#there's a really low chance that there was a letter in the first place (and in the void heh) but there is! ;)

[zu-is-here]

New headcannon! In relation to this. If we took that as being something that could have happened with the same Cross and Dream from darkcream, my headcannon iss.

Cross never actually read Dream this letter, perhaps tried to throw it out, but Dream saved it. He later comes to realise it might have been some sort of love confession, based on context of what happens soon afterwards. But he still doesn't actually know what it actually says.

Only then years later, handing the letter back to Cross, to ask him to read it to him on there wedding night.

Sickly sweet, but wanted to share something none angst related

Too sweet to resist ♡

[starreo]

multi-character drabble.

includes the friends to lovers trope, slightly insecure! character, and adult themes so, mdni.

he always treated you like you were special to him. he dropped you home every day unless he really had somewhere to be. even when he did, he would at least make sure to stay with you till your bus arrived. he didn't have to do that, you had never asked him to do that, but he wanted to.

he packed an extra box of lunch for you when he noticed you weren't bringing healthy meals to school. he would softly place it on your desk every day, and then proceed to sit down on the chair next to you. he didn't have to do that, you had never asked him to do that, but he wanted to.

he would let you cheat off of his paper when you hadn't studied for the test. sure, he could've just waved you off and told you to study next time, but he didn't. he let you copy his answers, and even wrote a few points for a question you were attempting. he didn't have to do that, you had never asked him to do that, but he wanted to.

he was the dream man according to every girl in school. a complete green flag. no wonder his locker would be flooded with love letters on valentine's day. he wouldn't respond to any of those, just quickly scan for one with your name on it. and when he wouldn't find one, he would just smile softly to himself, it's okay, she doesn't have to feel the same way. but he would never give up on you. he was too much in love.

but you felt the same way, didn't you? how could you not fall for him? after how much of a gentleman he had been...after how well he had treated you and never expected anything in return?

so today you decided to ask him, "hey, what do you want from me?"

he almost looked offended for a split second, clearing his throat before he asked you what you meant...

"i mean...y'know, with your birthday tomorrow, what do you want?"

his eyes widened and then immediately went back to the same way they were before, gentle.

"uhm, n-"

"don't say nothing!" you interrupted him before he could say it. as he sighed, you moved closer to him, "i want to...give you something...special..." his eyebrows furrowed and his head snapped towards you, special?

before he could think, his mouth said something that his heart had been dying to say for the past two years..."i want you."

that's all it took for you to lose your composure. you immediately slammed your lips against his, shocking him. as he struggled to understand just what sort of lucid dream he was having, you pulled apart, placing your hand on his cheek, your thumb caressing his lips. "i will give you whatever you want, just ask for it."

"y/n-"

"anything."

and you could see him contemplating his next words, before he dropped his head low, taking your hands in his when he looked up. "give me a chance to let me show you..." as he placed a soft kiss on your hand, "just how much i love you."

and you gave him that chance. obviously...why else would you be on his bed right now, with your ankles buried between his shoulder blades as he rutted into you.

now don't get confused, he didn't just fuck you like this. first, he made love to you, let you know how much you mean to him and how thankful he is. then, he said, he wanted to give you something special this time. he didn't have to do that, you had never asked him to do that, but he wanted to.

which is why he had the entire bed shaking with his quick thrusts, oh, he made you cum- how many times now? well, who cares, all you knew right now was, "a-ah, i-i'm g-gonna-!"

nagi, reo, rin, isagi, ness, hiori, bachira, chifuyu, eren, jean, suna + your favs <3

© starreo 2023. do not copy, translate or repost .

[fanboyoff1]

Landoscar- Losing your bags at the airport (1.7k words)

Hello all! This is based off that one tweet about Lando losing his bags at the airport and Oscar staying with him. Disclaimer- I know nothing about airports, all of this was google searched stuff, so go easy on me. (I made it an American airport because dealing with a language barrier was too complicated lol) It's mostly fluff, but I suppose a bit of angst?

Also, this is my first fic I'm posting online, so please be kind ❤️

Lando sighed loudly, blowing hair out of his face as he exhaled. He wasn’t the biggest fan of airports by principle. They’re boring, the lines are long, and the whole thing seems so much bigger than it needs to be. But it’s kind of a necessary part of his job, so he’d mostly gotten used to waiting for stupid amounts of time at airports.

But this is just kinda ridiculous. He and Oscar had been waiting for Lando’s suitcase to show up at baggage claim for… well he didn’t know how long it had been, but it was longer than he’d ever had to wait before. Even worse, Oscar’s bag had practically been the first to get dumped out onto the carousel, because of course it had. They were going to the hotel together, so Oscar was staying with him. The Aussie was on his phone, sitting on his suitcase and texting someone. Lando hated the silence, so he tore his eyes away from Oscar’s gorgeous side profile and yawned.

“This is taking foreverrr,” he said, stretching from his place crouched on the floor.

“It’s been ten minutes,” Oscar corrected, not once looking up from his phone.

“Screen-ager,” Lando decided to retaliate. Oscar looked up now, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment clear on his face. Lando looked back to the baggage carousel, satisfied by getting a reaction out of the younger man.

Oscar cleared his throat. “How about we just wait a few more minutes and then go to the baggage desk.”

“Huh?”

“The baggage desk. Where you go if you lose your luggage. It’s right there.” He pointed, and sure enough, back against the wall and a few carousels down was a little front desk-looking thing, with neon letters spelling out ‘Baggage Desk’ above it.

“Oh,” Lando mumbled, adjusting his hat. 

“I’ll just tell Zak we’ll be a bit later than expected,” Oscar said, giving Lando a blinding smile that made his stomach twist with that complicated more-than-just-a-crush feeling he preferred not to think about. He hummed in response, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

After a few more minutes, everyone that had been on their flight (aka about half the Mclaren crew, including Zak and Andrea who had ditched them first chance they got) had left, and Lando was getting more and more stressed out. He was biting his lip and running his hands through his hair repeatedly, imagining practically every worse-case scenario. What if his suitcase got on the wrong flight? What if there was something bad in there he didn’t realize and they wouldn’t let him get his stuff? What if some rando took his stuff?

He didn’t realize Oscar was talking to him until a hand waved in front of his face. He looked to his teammate who was already staring at him worriedly.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, resting his hand on Lando’s arm. Lando managed a small, likely unconvincing nod. 

Oscar let go of his upper arm with a gentle squeeze, and Lando might just melt away at the spot. “Well, I was asking you if you wanted to go to the baggage desk and ask about your suitcase?”

Lando nodded again and stood, walking away before even giving Oscar a chance to do so as well. He felt a bit bad as he heard Oscar scramble upright and start pulling his suitcase behind him, but it had been a long day and he really just needed to collapse into his hotel room now.

He reached the desk and made eye contact with a short woman, her long brown hair tied up in a low ponytail and wearing official looking clothes, who was standing near the back of the small room. She rushed forward and sat down in a swivel chair, pushing her glasses up.

“What’s your issue, dearie?” she said in a strong Southern accent, only slightly muffled by the thick glass separating them.

“Uh, can’t find my bag. Didn't show up,” he said with a guilty smile. He tried to turn on his charm as much as possible, his train of thought being, Maybe if I’m nice she’ll be nice back and then I can go to bed quicker. 

“Alright love. Name?”

“Lando Norris,” he said. Oscar had reached him by now, standing so close to his side that their shoulders were almost brushing against each other.

The lady did some typing on her computer, then let out a little tsk sound in the back of her throat. “I’m sorry, it seems like your luggage got sent to the wrong place. We’re trying to get it here as we speak.”

Lando shot a glance back to Oscar, who raised his eyebrows. “Do you know what happened?” he asked the lady. He looked at the pin on her shirt, which said her name was Charlotte. Huh, she didn’t look like a Charlotte.

Charlotte gave a shrug in response. “Could’ve been anything. My guess, there wasn’t enough space in the cargo hold on your plane. It got placed on the wrong extra-storage space, and got sent somewhere else. You’ll have to wait until it gets here. That might take a while.”

Lando worked hard to suppress a groan. “Okay. Thanks.” He tried for a smile that ended up more like a grimace.

“You two can sit in one of those chairs on the right while you wait,” Charlotte said with a sympathetic smile. Lando turned to his right and flopped into a chair. At least they were cushioned. 

This night was turning shitty fast. He just wanted to sleep, was that too much to ask? And what was even more awful about this was that Oscar had to stay with him.

“Sorry about this,” he told his friend, who looked at him confused.

“Why? It’s nothing you could control.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just…” he trailed off, not sure how to explain that somehow he was blaming himself for this. No, he’d never tell Oscar that, he’d think he was weird. The edge of Lando’s eyes were starting to water with tears, and he wanted to scream. You’re such a baby. What’s your problem? Bury it, you can’t do this right now. Crybaby.

“Hey, Lando, it’s okay,” Oscar said, reaching out with one hand. He touched Lando’s shoulder tenderly. “I don’t mind.”

Lando hugged his legs to his chest and buried his head in his knees. “I’m just having a bad day,” he mumbled, and for a second he wasn’t sure if Oscar heard him.

“That’s alright,” Oscar said, and he let go of Lando’s arm. Lando didn’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of contact though, because then Oscar’s arm was wrapping around his shoulders and gently tugging him closer. Lando practically fell onto his chest, and could feel his cheeks reddening.

“This okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You can rest. You know, if you want. I know you’re tired.”

“Will you wake me up when my suitcase shows up?”

“Mm-hmm,” Oscar hummed, and Lando let himself sink into his embrace, their breaths and heartbeats syncing. Oscar was really cuddly, he thought as he drifted off.

# # #

“Hey, Lando, wake up.”

Osc, Lando thought and smiled. “Wake up, Lando.” Then someone was gently pushing his shoulder, and he blearily opened his eyes.

He took in his surroundings with a moment of slight confusion before remembering. The airport. His bags. Crying. Oscar.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” the man in question said, and Lando swore he felt his fingers brushing through his curls. “C’mon, your stuff got here.”

A part of Lando wanted to jump up and start doing a victory dance on the spot. The annoyance of getting up overruled it though. He was so comfy.

Wait, where exactly was he? He knew he was at the airport, but this was way too comfy for a chair. His eyes flickered around trying to figure it out, and oh God he was in Oscar’s lap. He quickly sat up, using his hands to push himself upright. However, he didn’t account for where he was putting his hands, and ended up putting half of his weight on Oscar’s thigh. Oscar let out a little grunt of pain, wincing.

“Oh shit, sorry sorry sorry,” Lando hurriedly apologized, backing up.

“No no, you’re fine,” Oscar reassured him, but his voice was strained. He looked at Lando with a smirk. “Are you trying to sabotage me, Lando Norris?”

“I’m sorry!”

Oscar just giggled and stood. He reached a hand out to Lando, who took it. He used his free hand to grab his suitcase and took off confidently to the left, not releasing his tight grasp on Lando’s hand.

“Uh, where are we going?” Lando asked, desperately trying to stop the stupid butterflies rising in his stomach. God he was so childish, they were literally just holding hands. But they were holding hands. 

“To get your bag. Obviously.”

With no further explanation, he proceeded to get dragged through what felt like half the airport. Not that he minded. Every once in a while Oscar would look back and give him a trademark Osc Smile that made his insides turn to mush, so that made up for the mystery part pretty well.

Finally they reached their destination, some obscure part of the airport. A few official people gave him his suitcase along with many apologies and a crap ton of airline points (not that those were especially helpful to him, Mclaren paid for most of his flights anyways. It was a nice gesture though.) He accepted the apologies quickly, not wanting to drag out this process any longer than necessary.

 Then they were in a taxi headed to their hotel, and the exhaustion was coming back ten-fold.

“Tired?” Oscar asked once Lando had yawned for the fifth time.

“Just a bit,” Lando quipped.

“Want to sleep again?”

“You’re fine with it?”

“Of course.”

Lando hesitantly let his head fall on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar’s arm found its way around his shoulders again.

Just before Lando fell asleep again, he felt a feather-light kiss pressing against his head, and he scooted closer to Oscar with a sigh.

Here are some people who said they were interested: @slugesh, @peppysinc, @sunnykasarova, @alto-the-avocado, @lailau7904, @standgrand, @chamberkat

[lovezbrownies]

Mockingbird. (Fem!Yandere Pop Idol x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist

(Coudln't pick between making her an american pop idol or a k-pop idol so i made her both! She's half American and half Korean and makes variety solo music while in her band :))

Synopsis: While trying to earn your paycheck as a Audio Tech, you manage to catch the eyes of the magnetic, Grammy winning Yuna Claire.

Under the spotlight, Yuna Claire was perfection—every note, every glance choreographed for the adoration of thousands. But when her eyes landed on you, their fire softened into something sharper, something that burned with a dangerous kind of focus. You’d noticed her at first only because of Yuna's fame, the admiration people lavished on her so excessive it was hard to ignore. It was after a concert that she’d approached you, alone in the backstage crowd, moving with a deliberate pace that only you seemed oblivious to.

She’d started with a polite introduction, a charming laugh. Fans had parted around Yuna, gaping as if she were a goddess, while you gave her a casual nod, barely glancing her way. If anything, you’d appeared more captivated by the band posters on the walls. Yuna wasn’t deterred, though. Instead, she leaned in, her words silken, inviting you to a private after-party. Her words were sugar, her gaze hypnotic—but something didn’t feel quite right. And still, her allure was undeniable, almost magnetic.

But you had your own reasons for resisting. The world of flashing lights and obsessive fans didn’t appeal to you, and the drama of idol life felt exhausting just to observe. You'd given her a nonchalant smile, declining politely, leaving Yuna alone in a corridor of confused and shocked onlookers.

Yuna didn’t give up. For weeks after that, her messages appeared daily, each one a bit more intense than the last, though always wrapped in a veneer of politeness. She’d send short, casual notes about her day, like Yuna was trying to convince you of her “normal” side. Then came the carefully crafted photos, her smile dazzling, eyes dark with something unsettling. Still, Yuna knew just how to tread the line between flirty and forward, between coy and committed.

But you didn’t respond, letting your silence answer in your place.

The silence only seemed to make her bolder.

Soon, small “gifts” began appearing. They were subtle at first: a book you’d mentioned liking left anonymously on your doorstep, a handwritten letter slipped into your bag somehow, perfume lingering on the pages. Then, one day, your phone buzzed, and there was a photo attached—a candid shot of you in a coffee shop, reading. The angle was wrong, too close, taken without your notice. The caption beneath read, “I love how focused you look.”

By now, you’d pieced together Yuna's persistence and presence. She was relentless, yet subtle. You’d heard rumors that she had been known to ghost her managers, locking herself away from the world for weeks until she’d get what she wanted. Those who defied her had been known to face mysterious career setbacks, projects canceled without reason. And now, that ambition—obsession—had found its focus on you.

One evening, you returned home to find Yuna waiting at your door. Her smile was radiant as ever, but there was an edge to her eyes, a desperation swimming beneath her polished exterior. Yuna wore a hoodie, as though trying to blend into your world, her gloved hands hidden in her pockets.

“You haven’t answered me,” Yuna said, her voice soft yet unyielding. “I thought… maybe in person you’d give me a chance.”

Her gaze didn’t waver as you fumbled for your keys, blocking your way. She leaned in, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her breath. “Please,” she murmured, her voice low and nearly pleading, though her eyes told a different story.

“I’m… really not interested,” you managed, keeping your tone polite but firm.

The smile on Yuna's face tightened, her fingers flexing slightly as she stood still, the air heavy with her scent and the weight of her expectations. The seconds stretched, her intense silence trapping you until she finally spoke again, her voice softer, almost disarmingly gentle.

“I can change your mind.” It wasn’t a question, more like a fact she’d already accepted. She shifted, a gleam flickering in her gaze as she stepped closer, her voice lowering to a whisper. “I just need a little more time to show you how much you mean to me. You wouldn’t turn me away if you knew how long I’ve waited to find someone like you.”

You could feel your pulse quicken, her intensity seeping into the air between you. The way Yuna looked at you—as though you were the one person in a world of facades—stirred something uncomfortable, something deeply unsettling. But behind that, a chill ran down your spine, the unease creeping in as her gaze lingered, too steady, too fixed, a promise hidden in the depths of her stare.

“I just… want to be left alone,” you said softly, pushing the words out, feeling the way they seemed to make her freeze for a moment, like she was memorizing the rejection, absorbing it before it sank into her.

And then, Yuna's smile widened, her voice tinged with an eerie, honeyed calm. “You’ll change your mind,” she murmured, pressing a soft hand to your arm. “I have all the time in the world for you. And don’t worry—I won’t be far.”

She let her fingers linger just a moment too long before stepping back, her gaze never leaving yours as she turned, leaving you in the dim hallway. And as she walked away, you felt a cold certainty that this was only the beginning.

A few days passed with nothing more than a tense silence and a faint scent of her perfume lingering in your mind. You tried to shake her memory, the look in her eyes that had lingered too long, the unwavering way Yuna had spoken as if her persistence was just a matter of inevitability. But Yuna had fallen quiet, her presence slipping back into the shadows. You told yourself that maybe she’d taken the hint, that perhaps her attention had finally shifted.

But soon, small traces of her began appearing everywhere. It started innocently enough: a coffee cup with Yuna's autograph on the sleeve sitting outside your door one morning, her signature sharp and elaborate. Then, one day, a bouquet of deep red roses appeared—delivered straight to your office, the envelope tucked inside holding only a single message in her elegant handwriting: You missed my last concert. I was thinking of you the whole time. You could almost hear her voice in the words, soft and unhurried, like a gentle reminder she would never let you go.

Still, you kept your distance, responding to her with only silence, the only reaction you could give that felt remotely safe. But Yuna's gifts continued, each more intimate than the last. One night, you found a plush blanket folded perfectly at your doorstep, the fabric woven with her initials stitched carefully into the corner. You left it there, untouched, but the next morning, it was gone, replaced by a small silver necklace, engraved with the words, Forever yours.

By now, you were beginning to feel Yuna's presence even when she wasn’t there. You couldn’t walk down the street without glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting her to step out from the shadows, her voice low and calm, as if she’d just been waiting for you to look her way. It made the world feel smaller, her influence extending far beyond the glossy photoshoots and stage lights. She wasn’t just a presence on screens or in songs; she was a shadow, creeping into every quiet corner of your life.

It was on a rainy night that she finally crossed the line. You were sitting at your kitchen table, half-awake and nursing a cup of coffee, trying to shake off the unease that had followed you home. There was a knock on your door, soft but unmissable. Your heart dropped, a part of you already knowing who it would be.

Reluctantly, you opened the door, and there she was—drenched from the rain, her hair clinging to her face, lips painted red but smudged slightly as though she’d been rushing. Her eyes were wide and focused, her gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made you want to step back, but she was faster, already inside before you could say anything.

“Why haven’t you answered me?” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, but the sharpness was unmistakable. “I’ve tried to be patient. I’ve tried to give you time, but you’re making this so much harder than it has to be.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Yuna shook her head, her fingers curling into fists, her gaze brimming with something raw and desperate. “I’ve waited so long to find someone who doesn’t see me as just entertainment,” she continued, her voice wavering slightly. “Everyone else is obsessed with the idea of me, but you… You’re real. You’re the only real thing in my world, and I won’t let you ignore me.”

Her words were laced with a haunting vulnerability, but there was an edge there, a dark gleam in her eye that made your skin prickle. She took a step forward, and before you could react, her hands were on your arms, her grip surprisingly strong as she pulled you close.

“Do you know what it’s like to be worshipped by everyone but feel completely alone?” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. “No one sees me like you do. You can’t understand what that means to me… what you mean to me.”

Her fingers traced along your arms, almost possessively, her gaze dropping to the floor before lifting again, filled with a sorrowful intensity that left you speechless. Her voice softened, barely above a whisper, but there was an unmistakable steel behind her words. “If I have to tear down every wall, break every distance between us, I will. You don’t understand how much I need you. You don’t know what it feels like to need someone the way I need you.”

You tried to pull away, but her grip tightened, her fingers pressing into your skin. There was a flicker of pain in her eyes, like she was fighting something darker, something she couldn’t control. Yuna's voice grew softer, almost pleading, a softness masking something much more intense. “I’ll be everything for you,” she whispered, her gaze dropping to her hands on your arms. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll leave the spotlight if I have to… if that’s what it takes.”

Her words hung in the air, filled with an eerie promise, a willingness to unravel her entire life just for a chance to stay by your side. You could feel her desperation, her obsession suffocating, seeping into the space between you until it felt like a cage.

“Please,” you finally said, managing to pry her hands off, your voice steady though your heart was pounding. “I don’t want this. I never asked for it, and you need to understand that.”

Her face fell, her expression wavering as though the weight of your rejection was physically painful. But after a moment, she smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You think you don’t want this now,” she said softly, her voice gentle, yet chilling. “But you just haven’t given me a chance to show you. I’ll change your mind… I know I will.”

With that, she took a step back, her gaze lingering as she brushed a strand of wet hair from her face. Her voice was soft, affectionate, but there was something almost dangerous in it now, something unyielding. “I’ll be seeing you,” she whispered, almost like a promise, before turning and slipping out into the rain.

As the door clicked shut behind her, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You knew, with an unsettling certainty, that this wasn’t over. And somehow, a part of you wondered if it ever would be.

You sank into a chair, heart pounding as you tried to shake off the echo of her words. But her presence lingered, curling around you like smoke, insistent and inescapable. Every shadow in your apartment seemed to hold her gaze, every sound just outside the door felt like her footsteps waiting to step back into your world.

In the days that followed, it was as if she’d slipped into your life like a shadow cast just beyond reach. It started small again—your phone buzzing with her messages, her number somehow bypassing the blocks you’d put in place. A photo of the view from her hotel room, sent late at night with a message below: This would look better if you were here. Each time you saw her name appear, a tightness grew in your chest, the constant reminder that she was watching, waiting.

When you went out, she was there, always just out of sight but close enough that you could feel her, as if her gaze was a constant weight on the back of your neck. She lingered at cafes, always alone at a distant table, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, never taking them off until you’d met her stare for just a moment too long. She’d nod, that half-smile twisting into something more when she saw the flicker of discomfort on your face.

One evening, you arrived home to find a package waiting for you—an expensive leather-bound journal, its cover engraved with your initials. Inside, she’d filled pages with a mix of her own thoughts, scrawled lyrics, and snapshots of herself, each one accompanied by a handwritten note. Some were simple—Thinking of you—while others were bolder: You belong in my life. The scent of her perfume clung to every page, making it feel as though she’d marked each one as her own. The effect was suffocating.

You tried to shake it off, tried to return to normal. You avoided places she’d visited, tried to take different routes, anything to break free of the feeling of being watched. But no matter where you went, she was always one step ahead, a quiet but relentless shadow. And then one night, as you sat in a dimly lit bar, she slipped into the seat across from you, her presence as bold and unyielding as ever.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you murmured, your voice betraying the surprise and unease that flooded your senses.

She simply tilted her head, a knowing smile curling her lips. “I told you, didn’t I? I’d be seeing you again.” Her fingers drummed on the table, her gaze never leaving yours. “You keep avoiding me, but I know what you really need, what you’re afraid to admit.” Her words were soft, intimate, as though she were whispering them just for you.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you replied, keeping your tone even, though it felt like you were trying to steady yourself on a tightrope. “This obsession… it’s not what you think it is.”

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “That’s where you’re wrong.” Her eyes gleamed with a chilling certainty. “You’ve made me wait, given me time to understand what you really need. I know what it’s like to be surrounded by people who don’t see you… but I see everything about you.” She leaned closer, her voice low and steady, her gaze intense enough to hold you in place. “And I’m not going anywhere. Not until you realize that we belong together.”

She pulled out a silver key, placing it on the table between you, a soft clink breaking the heavy silence. “I had a spare made,” she murmured, her voice a ghost of a whisper, as though confessing a secret. “I didn’t want to intrude too much, but… it’s better this way. I don’t have to wait for you to come to me—I can just find you when you’re ready.”

A chill swept through you, and the faint smile on her lips made it clear she knew exactly the effect she was having on you. She reached out, her fingers grazing the back of your hand, her touch soft yet possessive. “You’re afraid now,” she murmured, her eyes softening just enough to mimic tenderness. “But I’m willing to wait. I’m patient. I’ll give you all the time you need… because in the end, you’ll see that I’m the only one who truly understands you.”

Before you could respond, she rose, leaving the key glinting in the dim light between you, a symbol of the door she had already opened, the boundary she’d so carefully, and deliberately, crossed. And as she walked away, you realized, with a sinking certainty, that there was no escaping her.

[scenteddelusion5]

Hi, can I request a platonic Rosie(or several overlords if that’s okay) with a Female reader who’s a teenager overlord who accidentally became an overlord?

The Overlord of Disasters

Fem teenage reader x platonic Rosie (and other overlords)

This got way too long so I tried to shorten it, hope you still enjoy it.

Word count: 2886

Note: I actually am working on a young adult/teenager oc that has the powers to become an overlord, so the fact that this is my first request is very funny. When I've finished her design, I'll write about her. But for now, here is the story of Y/n the overlord of disasters.

Y\n had to admit that she wasn't the nicest person but she never expected to end up in hell. HELL, like yess she was a bit of a troubled teen... she was a petty thief, yess, but some of her peers were much worse. Besides, she was only fifteen when she died. She never had the chance to do better. That should've given her at least some leeway? Right?? RIGHT???

But no, she ended up in hell.

When Y/n first arrived, she roamed the dangerous streets looking for shelter. Her face and slim goat-like stature was hidden by a torn cloak. She tried to be inconspicuous, discreet, low-key but she overlooked one thing... Our Y/n was ridiculously clumsy. So when she tripped over her own foot, her arm bumped into the light pole causing it to fall over onto a postal van. That in turn caused all the letters to fly out on the street. Some of the papers got carried up by the wind, eventually getting stuck onto the cord of a power pylon. Then there was fire, which spread onto a building...

Everyone's eyes were focused on her, including a set of hollow eye socket. It didn't take long for the demons that lived in the now burning building to storm her.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!" One incredibly tall shark demon took the lead. "I'm going to rip fucking longs out of your chest and feed it to those CANIBAL FREAKS!!!"

At first Rosie didn't want to intervene. It really wasn't her style to get involved into random street fights, even though she found Y/n's disastrous display hilarious. But now that the loan shark insulted her people, she felt it was her duty to step in.

"Gentlemen, whatever might be the problem?" Rosie stepped in between you and the threatening hoard and flashed her sharp teeth to them. "You aren't bullying this poor newcomer, right?"

"Uhm, n-no miss, uhm Rosie. We're sorry." Before Rosie could open her mouth again, they ran back into the still burning building.

The overlord then turned to you. "Now darling, I take it you don't have a place to stay?"

Y/n shook her head.

"Then you can stay with me. I'm quite the powerful demon."

From that day on Y/n stayed with Rosie. During the years of living together, the two grew quite close. The overlord took over a motherly role for the teen. Everyone in cannibal town loved the unofficially adopted daughter of Rosie, they were even willing to put up with Y/n's clumsy nature.

Rosie truly loved her and when Y/n accidentally called her mom while helping out in the store, she was the happiest demoness in all of hell.

From that day on Rosie introduced Y/n as her daughter to anyone and everyone, even some of her fellow overlords.

Alastor and Y/n had met many times and often had tea together. The man often joked about how it's never boring with her. She had also met Zestial and Camilla a few times, but she wasn't as close with them as Alastor and Rosie.

One day Y/n had to make a trip to the Doomsday district. Rosie had, reluctingly, sent you to deliver a dress to a customer. She was all alone, her hand rested on the angelic steel knife on her belt. Rosie had given it to her so she could protect herself, just in case. Most people knew you were close to several overlords but you could never be more careful, especially Y/n.

Y/n was repeating her 'safety protocol' in her head.

Stay away from the walls

stay away from the poles

stay away from the demons

Stay away from the fire

Look where you step

Hold th-

She walked into something and fall back on her but. Looking up was a demon she recognized... An overlord, he was in charge of the Doomsday district.

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!!!" This situation seemed awfully familiar.

Y/n clenched her shirt. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to."

"I DON'T CARE!!!"

The demon was menacingly towering over her. She crawled back and pulled herself up. Seeing as this wasn't going to be resolved with a pleasant conversation over tea, Y/n pulled out her knife. Her arms were shaking and the knife felt heavy in her hands.

"What do you think that toothpick is going to do?" He stepped forward and you stepped back. On and on until she hit the wall... OH no... she hit the wall...

Her elbow hit the random waterpipe on the side of the building and broke it. Water spewed out right into the overlord's face. The demon fell back. The water had landed on the street, causing a car to slip and running over the overlord and crashing into the wall. This in turn caused the satellite aerial to fall down and slightly bumped your back. The knife shot out of your hand right into overlord. The aerial send out a weird frequency.

"Spare me... Please..." The overlord gasped out.

Y/n was still shaken up. "What?... Uhm I don't plan on killing you." her voice sounded unsure, which the overlord took way different than you meant.

"Please!" He wailed. "I'm begging you... You can have all my souls, just please."

"I don't uhm..."

"PLEASE!!! TAKE THEM!!!"

"... Sure...??" She said very confused. "I'll take them." The two shook hands and immediately, Y/n could feel the pure power flowing through her veins. "Alright... Bye now?" As she stepped away a shadow covered the overlord. Before Y/n could look up a piano hit the demon, pushing the knife deeper in effectively killing him.

What the fuck just happened?

Everything was quiet. All eyes were on her, again... As always, only this time, she doubted she would be saved this time. She was prepared to be killed again... Only nobody did anything, no demons threatening to kill her, no stray bullets that got way to close to her head, not even another butterfly effect disaster... The demons around just stared.

One small demon with black eyes walked up to you... "What are you going to do to us?"

"What...?"

"What are you going to do to us?" He repeated. "You are the new overlord of the Doomsday district, you own our souls."

"I... I don't." She awkwardly grabbed at her sleeves. "I'm not an overlord."

"Yes, you are. You defeated the previous overlord of doom, took over his souls and territory, you became an overlord." Y/n stayed silent at this. "How about we talk in private?" He took her into a smaller building nearby, away from all prying eyes. "Let's start over. I'm Piper. You own my soul." The small demon introduced himself.

"Uhm... Y/n, and I'm no overlord. Overlords are like scary, like WHA!" She made grabby gestures with her hands. "And BOE! I'm anything but that."

Piper looked at her like she had just grown another head. "How about this? I'll keep your territory in control while you think this over a bit? And in turn, you'll keep me in high up in the social latter here."

Her mouth was dry. "... Deal..?" She was so confused.

From that day on Piper took care of the Doomsday district for her. Y/n never went to Rosie about this. She always wanted to keep her daughter safe and would be so mad to find out she got into trouble again... At least that's what Y/n convinced herself.

Even though Piper took care of most of the problems in the Doomsday district, word got around of the new overlord of disasters; a terrifying force of nature that shouldn't be reckoned with. So of course there were demons that wanted to challenge her. Every other day y/n needed to sneak out of Cannibal town to 'fight' these challengers. See 'fight' as in accidentally defeating them.

Y/n was filing her bag with a cloak and a mask she picked up to hide her identity when a knock came from her door.

"Y/n darling! It's me and Alastor." Rosie opened the door and summoned a table. "Please sit down, we want to talk to you."

She sat down in the Victorian style chair, but not before stumbling a bit.

"Little lamb, your mother is worried about you." Alastor broke the silence.

"Deary, you've been sneaking out a lot and staying away for longer and longer and when you come home you're exhausted-" Rosie took a deep breath "- what I'm trying to say is that you can talk to me if something's wrong... You know that right?" Her cheeks were droopy, a frown plastered on her porcelain face, it made Y/n's stomach turn.

"I'm fine, mom. There is no need to worry about me." She lied.

Alastor's eyebrows down, almost like he wanted to frown, but he still had that giant smile on his face. "Are you sure? If somebody is bothering you, we don't mind serving them for tonight's dinner. Hahaha." He joked, underneath, however, he was nervous. The Radio demon had grown quite fond of her and, knowing how clumsy she could be, he couldn't help but worry.

"No, one is bothering me... Thank you for offering though." At this point, Y/n had grown used to the cannibalistic tendencies of the people around her and so shrugged Alastor's joke off.

Rosie had a bad feeling about this. "Can you at least tell us where you've been sneaking of to?"

Shit

Y/n didn't have excuse for this. "J-just some friends... I.. I didn't want them to be scared off, so I didn't tell them about you. I'm sorry mom." Tears filled her eyes, she didn't want to lie to her. Rosie had done so much for her... She was planning on giving this whole being an overlord up anyway, there was no reason for Y/n to tell the truth now. It'll be like it never happened and then she can go back to her normal life with her mom.

Rosie stared into her cup. "Alright deary, but please make sure to be careful. Genuine friends are rare in hell."

"Thanks mom." Y/n stood up again and left the imperium, through the front door this time.

Alastor squinted his eyes, following your silhouette. Something was wrong, you were lying. He could feel it... But this was Rosie's responsibility, so he should leave it up to her. "She is lying."

"I know but if she isn't ready to talk about it, then I'll wait."

"On a different note, did you hear that the Doomsday district has a new overlord." Alastor took a sip from his 'Oh, Deer' mug. "They've been defeating demon after demon. I've been meaning to meet them for my radio show, would you like to come with me?"

Y/n was walking down the street to the Doomsday district. I should've just told Rosie the truth. She thought. But she had panicked and lied, only making it harder for herself.

Stepping into the same, small building where Piper first dragged her off too, Y/n put on her overlord disguise.

"You didn't break anything, right?" Piper asked, dressed in a brand-new suit. "I don't want to fix the sewerage again."

"It went fine!" She put up her thumb, before knocking over a chair that landed on a vase, breaking it in two thousant pieces. "Sorry."

Y/n and Piper walked around the district for a while, more so to let the demons know that the overlord of disaster was still around and that they were close with Piper. She caused chain reactions all around her, letting people know she got her title for a reason... Not her fault the denizens of hell took it the wrong way.

The two were rounding the corner when a familiar set came into view... What were Rosie and Alastor doing here? Y/n's panic only grew once she realised Alastar was trying to get her attention. Did they recognize her? What was happening?

As the two overlords came closer and closer, Y/n ducked into an alleyway and seemingly disappeared~

The dumpster wasn't Y/n's first choice of hiding place but it was the only one she had.

Piper was left alone on the burning streets with two dangerous overlords heading straight for him.

"Where did she go?" The woman, who Piper recognized to be the cannibal overlord, asked. "I swore she was just here."

"And what relation do you have with this new overlord, my incredibly short fellow." The second man Piper knew all too well. The terrifying Radio demon. "I was hoping to speak to her."

"Ah, I- I'm incredibly sorry... B-but the disaster overlord doesn't like dealing with overlord stuff, so she makes me represent." Piper sputtered.

"I see, but you see I want to speak to the REAL overlord. Not some pathetic representative." Dials appeared in Alastor's eyes and strange symbols started floating around. "GOT THAT."

"YES!"

"Lovely, then you can set up an audience for me. How does Friday sound?"

"Perfect, Friday at 5 p.m."

"Great, I can't wait to meet her." The two overlords went on their merry way again through the streets of Doomsday district.

Friday came around and nothing. Alastor had waited for twenty minutes, yet there was no sight of the disaster demon or her little pet. This was rich, never before was the overlord stood up like this. Who would dare to waste his time?! Alastor's stature as well as his antlers grew. That day there was a very horrifying broadcast and Y/n was at home with Rosie. She had to admit she almost peed her pants when Alastor openly threatened her on the radio broadcast...

There was no way she could come clean now. From that day on, you didn't show your overlord self once. Always letting Piper deal with everything.

That was until he came running to you, a letter in hand. It was an invitation to an overlord meeting, one she wouldn't be allowed to send Piper to. At first she didn't want to go, but Piper thought that would be a surefire way to piss off even more overlords. She had to go.

That's how she ended up, dressed in her cloak and mask, in front of an office building in Carmilla's circle of the pentagram. Stepping into the building the place was quiet, no one was around... Was this a trap? Y/n continued on the conference room, although more cautious. Room 666.

Everyone was already there. Were you supposed to come early?

"Disaster demon, glad you could join us." Carmilla spoke first. "We weren't sure you would show up anymore."

Y/n kind of shrugged trying her best to hide her voice.

"How rude, this new generation of overlords ought to know their place. Don't you think so Zestial?" Alastor commented half-jokingly.

"Yes, I must agree." The oldest overlord answered.

You wobbly sat down in your seat, but in doing so breaking the seat. A metal leg shot out to Vox, who protected himself. It ricocheted to the chandelier, which luckily kept hanging. Unluckily though, one of the more heavy ornaments fell down onto the table. It broke in two.

With each sound and broken item, Y/n hugged herself more and more until she resembled more of an hedgehog than a goat. She felt incredibly awkward, tears came out of her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I'M SORRY!!!! YOU ALMOST BROKE MY SCREEN AND DESTROYED THE CONFERENCE ROOM AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS SORRY?!!!" Vox screamed, he was about to launch over the broken table but Alastor stopped him.

"Not a step closer my pal." Alastar's horns grew, showing that he was serious in protecting the newest overlord.

"There is only one demon in the entire universe who could create such a mess." Rosie spoke to herself. "Y/n is that you?" Rosie almost couldn't keep herself from smirking when she removed her mask.

"Yes... I-"

"Alright, everyone out this meeting is over!" Carmilla said. The demons left but only with some push. "Not you three."

They were all looking at you, Carmilla, Zestial, Alastor and Rosie, waiting for an explanation.

"Be- Before you get mad at me, this was an accident."

"I'm not mad about my conference room, now explain." Carmilla's eyes stayed focused on her, like lion waiting for its prey.

"I don't just mean the conference room, this was an accident." Y/n points to herself. "I didn't mean to become an overlord. It just kind of happened and I thought you would be mad at me and then I dug myself into a deeper hole, and now I'm here dressed like this embarrasing myself in front of everyone." The tears that had been slowly building up, started flowing.

"Oh deary." Rosie stood up and gave you a big hug. "I could never be mad at you. I just wish you would've told me. We can work this out together, besides this means you have the power to protect yourself. You don't know how worried I was if you would ever find yourself in a sticky situation alone."

"Thanks mom." Y/n hugged her back.

"If I may interrupted your lovely bonding time, but how exactly did you 'accidentally' defeat the previous overlord?" Alastor asked.

"Oh, I didn't defeat him." She explained. "He got runover by a car, then he decided to give me all his souls and a piano dropped on him."

"Excuse me?"

Masterlist/request guidlines

[sleepybbie]

#TRENDING ! | nagi x reader

summary: your and nagi’s name seemed to be in the main headline of hashtags on twitter when you woke up one day…

proplayer!nagi x idol!fem!reader

warning! mentions of threats and hate comments,

a/n: this fic is based on episode 9 of season 2 of aggretsuko on netflix when they found out retsuko and tadano were dating TwT

it really wasn’t tensional.

you were feeling lonely, and so did he. nagi followed what you told him. he thought if he were to hide through his identity with a cap, mask, and some glasses, then he wouldn’t be easily recognized by the public, and then he would be able to meet up with you in secret with no one to disturb you two. go at his place, exchange kisses and words of affirmation, cuddle and have your time together.

the pro football player, going out with one of the most beautiful known idols in japan. basically you. it was a death sentence at just that.

ever since your manager, sara, allowed you to date someone after the success of your first solo album to be released, you had never been more happy to tell nagi the news, in which he too was delighted, kissing the temple of your head after. finally, you don’t have to hide your phone every time she checks.

your manager says that if this information were ever to be turned in public, there’s a chance that your career would have a turn for the worse, and that you have to keep it private.

fans are crazy, she says. and she wasn’t wrong.

you received a couple of threats from letters you thought were fan letters, and even some during your concerts, in which they were gladly taken away by security and were banned from ever attending to your concerts. being famous is scary, but nagi had became your comfort after all of that. that’s why you dated him. surprisingly, you two have already been dating for 3 years, in secret from your manager even. only his best friend reo knows about your relationship and so as your two closest friends. they were amazing at keeping secrets.

you promised your manager that you would try your best to keep a low profile when going out, using the same method every famous people do when walking outside in public—which is wearing a disguise.

since the two of you were famous, you told nagi that the best disguise is just a simple cap, mask, sunglasses and an attire that would look plain. nagi took these suggestions in mind, and used them one day during a rest day. you were used to wearing disguises, so you had a usual waiting for you in your hotel room. you had finished doing a song rehearsal, and nagi messaged to you if you wanted to go out on a date for your free day.

without thinking, you said ‘yes.’

maybe you should always take your manager’s words in your head all the time. and the thing is, she had no idea you were dating him.

wednesday, 11:02am

sara sat down on the computer chair as she slammed the finished documents over her desk, stretching her arms up in the air along with a tired sigh escaping her lips. she just finished her paperwork for your album, talking to various producers who’ll help you out and such, making schedules and plans afterwards.

thank goodness it was a rest day, you were probably busy anyways and she doesn’t want to do anymore work for she only messaged to you about the upcoming rehearsal you were having on friday and to prepare. and that was that. the stress she was having at the moment irked her.

“it’s like seeing my old self…ugh, my back hurts..”

without saying anything more, she opened her computer, google, then checked out the latest news. maybe a little drama could spice up her boring day..

“new trial; kiinomori, says not guilty,” boring.

“a car crash happening after a cos event, yesterday,” do car crashes always happen now?

“japan’s new technology shocks the tokyo community,” eh, not interested

“wanted: extra line artist,” why are you even looking for help here on the news website??!

‘even the news are starting to become uninteresting…well at least the crime rates aren’t going up any sooner..’ she thoughts to herself, clicking on the mouse to see if there were any particular headlines that might catch her interest. maybe about you would be nice.

however, something stopped her from scrolling.

“photo of japan’s football genius and japan’s most beloved idol’s lovey-dovey date.”

her eyes widen a little. no, that was impossible. you wouldn’t find a boyfriend that soon, right? and a football player? no, far too impossible..it just might be another idol, yeah. maybe even a colleague? yeah, that must be it.

steadily, her mouse clicked on the news page, and in an instant it opened.

“are the two going out as friends? or something more?” was what the article stated in the first sentence. sara took a good look on the photos, and all she could see was what she recognized to be the genius nagi seishiro’s back, his white hair flowing out of the cap on his head, holding a lemon tea drink in his hand, and the other in his pockets. nagi seishiro, the proclaimed genius football player who participated in the blue lock project? dating? sara barely knew anything about him, but woah.

beside nagi, was a girl smaller than him. sara couldn’t see her face, so she went forward to scroll down for more pictures.

that moment when she continues to scroll down on her computer, eyes intensely trying to take a good look on the photos took by the secret paparazzi, they kept only taking shots of nagi’s face, not even bothering to let the viewer look at who he’s with. her patience was almost running out…

that was until…she finally identified who the footballer was with.

time pauses, the tranquil silence was eerie, and sara felt her heart stop at the moment. jaw dropped, eyes wide, and the cup of coffee she bought at starbucks almost fell to the ground, a drip of the coffee falling on her desk.

“y…y/n..?”

then the whole public went on fire.

“WHATTTTTTTTTT???????!!”

“EEEEHHHH????”

“HUHHH????”

“HAHH?????”

“FOR REAL?????”

“HWHSHUHHHH???”

“OH MY GOOODDDDDDDD??????”

the article, with now over 2 million views, ended the statement with, “will the two get married soon??”

“a-aha..ahaha..they’re joking right?? y/n with t-that guy..? ahaha..ahaha..” one was on the verge of insanity from astonishment.

“PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, MA’AM!”

the number one trending hashtag on twitter, over 400 brand new tweets not long after the news broke out in public. your closest friends, saw the article. and not long after they tried their best to contact you to no avail.

“you’ve seen the article?”

“yes, i have. have you seen the way y/n’s instagram has been popping up after?” one of your friends showed the other on her phone screen, your verified instagram page. it seems your followers had multiplied after the article was posted online. from 30k to now 70k followers. your friends were able to read the newly added comments from your last post. the other comments are mostly from the good fans, showing their support for you and nagi’s relationship, and some were mostly from those nagi fangirls in which they despise the most..

‘found her lol.’

‘nagi could do better lmao.’

‘she’s not even that good looking.’

‘she’s just attention seeking lol.’

yeah, they definitely despise them. since not long, the two were preparing their bot accounts, about to fight them back.

even the team blue lock members’ were able to read the article, jaws dropped on the floor in surprise. how did the lazy genius managed to pull a famous idol like you?

“wha…what is…what’s this..?”

“holy crap, so this is why they’re trending?”

“i…i’m shocked.”

“woah! nagichi is actually dating y/n? how lucky, aha! they’re trending!”

“is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“so this is what that guy’s keeping away from us, huh?!”

“i didn’t even know he was dating someone. better yet, someone famous.”

“is this also why he’s late for practice?”

“it’s almost 3 million views now, they really are taking over the headlines.”

“wait, since they’re dating can i ask nagi if i can get an autograph from her??”

“shut up, igaguri.”

your friends were almost screaming at the end of the line when you answered their call, curled up over your bed and a little shaking, covering your naked body in the blankets with a sleepy nagi next to you. this wasn’t intentional, it really wasn’t. you didn’t know, you didn’t know that there was a secret paparazzi nearby. now you’re scared of what your manager might say to you after this. will she force you two to break up? or never see each other again? make you say you’re just friends with him? no, no, anything but that.

you thought the morning routine for this day would be blissful, with yesterday’s love making was comforting and full of passion, and now you’re awoken with news about you and nagi’s relationship now being in public.

“Y/N! YOU AND NAGI ARE TRENDING.”

“y-yeah, i know..” your voice was hush, like a whisper. you felt afraid of what might happen.

“y/n, are you alright over there? we can come over if you want. is nagi there with you right now?”

“n-no, you guys don’t have to..and yeah, he’s with me right now...’s just asleep..” you replied.

“it’s insane. it hasn’t even been hours and you two are—

your other friend’s voice has been cut off quick, “you don’t have to remind that to her..! listen, y/n, don’t be scared ok? i know it’s scary, but stay strong. trust me, that’ll get over soon.”

their voices are a little muffled on the end of the line, probably fighting over the phone.

the moment you felt movement beside you, you were quick to turn your head to see nagi already waking up from his sleep. great, now how are you going to tell him?

“guys, i’ll call you back later. i have to talk to sei about it. bye now.” then the call dropped. when you looked back over to nagi, his eyes were half lidded, white locks covering his right eye as he rubbed them awake.

“morning..”

“ah…morning, sei…uh..” you nervously avoided eye contact, fingers padding through your phone to look for the article about you and your now public boyfriend that went viral online. nagi tried to pull your figure close to him, arms wrapping over your stomach with a mumble, “it’s so early…hey y/n…go back to sleep with me..”

“it’s 11am now, sei..don’t you have practice today..?”

“ah, you’re right…what a bother..too tired from last night..” fuck, how are you supposed to tell him now? it’s now or never.

“hey, sei…i think you should see this..”

“huh?”

passing your phone over to your boyfriend, you anxiously played with your fingers as you can spot his pupils reading the article displayed over the screen, lazily. it took him some time to finish, his thumb scrolling down to continue reading before nagi lays the phone down between the both of you and groans. “ahh…what a pain. how did they even manage to recognize us? ‘thought my disguise was good..”

“paparazzis are terrifying..” was what you replied. in a few moments, you sighed, covering your face with both of your palms, letting go of the blanket that was covering your upper chest. “what should we do? this is bad…if sara sees this then we’re done for…how did this happen?? oh please, i don’t wanna leave you, sei..”

“didn’t she say you’re allowed to be in a relationship?”

“yeah, as long as i keep it private..!” you say, almost yelling at him. nagi stares at you, hugging the pillow he’s laying underneath. realization hits you, then you covered your mouth, embarrassed. “ah, sorry…i didn’t mean to yell at you..”

“ts fine…” he responds. you hid your face beneath your palms again, expression filled with nothing but worry and little fear. your insta’s been popping up, more followers were added and even more comments popping at your last post. and when you looked over to twitter to see your name trending over the hashtags, the whole world fell down over your shoulders.

“hey, y/n…look at me.”

you couldn’t.

“y/n. hey, let me see you..” nagi who was now sitting up, grabbed both of your hands off of your face to make you look at him.

pretty, you were so pretty. so pretty for him. “it’s gonna be alright..”

“no, no—easy for you to say but…my..my manager..she’ll..” then you looked down over the blanket again, breath hitching as you struggled to breathe a little. nagi had to hold you close to him in order to calm you down, hands brushing your hair, voice hushing your small whimpers. “shh, hey, hey..take deep breaths…c’mon…calm down..”

he always did that when you had panic attacks. most of the time after your concerts or handshakes with your fans. nagi holds you close, then stays quiet. maybe you’re overreacting a little bit…yet at the same time, it’s going to be scary facing the public afterwards.

nagi stayed with you for a while until you could face him calmly, with steady breaths and a peaceful heart. he could see the notifs popping up on his phone.

99+ new messages.

38 missed calls from reo

17 missed calls from isagi and the rest ongoing. his phone too was exploding this morning. but first he has to make sure you’re ok.

when you finally managed to calm down, nagi continues to brush your hair back, looking straight to your eyes. “feel a little better?”

you nodded. “just…just still a bit scared of sara..”

“yeah? well i’ll make sure to apologize. i was the one who dragged you out after all.”

“n-no, sei! you don’t have to i—that’ll make it more worse i’ll be the one to talk to her.” nagi shakes his head, not approving of your idea. “it would be a hassle if you had to go through that alone…at least let me talk to her too..” your boyfriend caressingly rubs your hand together with his, he could still spot the small bruises he left on your neck..a loving gaze pictured over his face.

“it wouldn’t be so much work unlike practice. i’ll come with you…wherever you are. sometimes i wish we were cats so we can spend 9 lives together, y’know?”

you couldn’t say anything much for this dork, except pull nagi for another hug. you prayed to whatever existed that you don’t ever get pulled away from him, your beloved. you sometimes wished things don’t turn out to be in a bad way, after all, you’re an idol of love and kindness. however sometimes, maybe the entertainment industry should be less strict on their idols, including you. nagi was the only one that made you feel alive from them. from all the negativity you’ve been feeling because of what you do.

you love nagi seishiro. and nagi seishiro loves you. that’s there to it.

in the end, you and nagi managed to talk to sara about the whole relationship situation going on, and the only thing she was mad about was that fact you didn’t tell her you were dating, better yet a pro player. she just gave you a warning and then head straight to ask permission to your company about your relationship.

then not long after too, the situation calmly fainted down, and everything went back to normal. maybe except about some of your fans who are quite upset that you’re in a relationship.

still, you were glad the company was kind enough to let you two stay together. maybe it’s because you’re with someone famous, too, but it didn’t really matter.

yeah, maybe you were overreacting.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Sailor Boy

tom bennett x reader

A/N: i haven't actually watched the show but i had this idea and really wanted to write it

WARNINGS: smut!, tom is a little pushy, size kink (if you squint)

WORD COUNT: 1,416 words

The knock at your window frightens you. Your parents are only two doors down the hall but you can’t imagine who would be climbing up to your window at this ungodly hour. 

Then you hear it, his voice.

“Open up, love. It’s bloody freezing out here.”

It can’t be.

You rush to your window, opening it up wide to see Tom Bennett hanging on with a playboy grin on his face.

“Took you long enough.” He teases as he climbs inside. You throw your arms around him right away.

“I didn’t think you’d be back for months!” You exclaim in a whisper-shout. Your father never liked it when Tom was sneaking into your room.

“Well i’m back early, doll. Wanted to surprise you.” He murmurs into your hair as his arms squeeze around your waist. Nothing has ever felt quite as good as having you in his arms.

“That’s why you didn’t respond to my last letter?” You ask. “God, Tommy. You had worried out of my bloody mind.” You look at him with sorrow in your eyes. “I almost let myself think you were dead.”

“I’m sorry to frighten you, love. You know I never meant to, but i’m here now.” He strokes your cheek with the back of his two fingers. He clearly means it.

“I never knew how much I needed my best friend.” You say mournfully.

“Thought about you every day when I was gone.” He whispers.

His fingers trail up and down your waist. “I thought about you every day too.”

“I barely got back an hour ago, wanted you to be the first person I saw.” His words make a blush rise to your cheeks.

“Explains the sailor uniform. You clearly haven’t washed it in a while.” You tease.

“You gonna talk to someone who served your country like that? You should be thanking me for my service.” He says with mock self-righteousness. 

“Thank you.” You say nonchalantly.

“That's it? I think I deserve a bit more of a reward than that.” He says as a cheeky grin makes its way onto his face.

“What kinda reward are you wanting, soldier boy?” You ask, sensing his innuendo.

“Just a little kiss, doll.” He replies and you roll your eyes before quickly pecking his cheek.

“Happy?”

“I meant on the lips, darling. You knew that.” He lifts your chin up with his hand and brushes his thumb over your soft lips.

“Don’t…” You pull your head away and take a step back. “You know i’m not your girl, Thomas Bennett.” He always knows he’s in trouble when you use his full name like that. He hates when you’re upset with him… but he likes teasing you more.

“I just want one little kiss, then i’ll leave ya alone.” He gives you his best puppy-dog eyes with his baby blues.

“Then go down to the bar and pick a girl there.”

“I don’t wanna go down to the bar when I already got the prettiest girl in England right in front of me.” He places each of his hands on your waist as he gazes down at you.

“You shouldn’t be such a flirt with your closest friend.” You murmur.

“You shouldn’t deny a navy-man his one wish after coming back from war.” He returns.

“We both know you won’t stop at one kiss.”

“I will if that’s what you really want.”

You think on his words for a moment, nibbling on your lip that he’s so desperate to taste.

“One kiss.”

He grins and you before pulling you closer with his strong hands and then lifting one so he can guide your head until your lips meet his. It’s nothing of an innocent peck. No, this kiss is much more. He pushes his tongue past your lips and in your hazy state, you weren’t stopping him. Tom knows he might not get another chance like this so he kisses you with all the passion he can muster, hoping that it keeps you coming back for more… but it all ends too soon when you push him away gently, just enough so he gets the idea.

“What’s wrong?” He asks in a low, almost drowsy tone.

“You promised.”

“I did… but I can tell you wanna kiss me more.” He looks at you with such desire in his eyes.

“I won’t be another notch on your belt, Tommy.” You say firmly.

“A notch on my belt? Is that what you think?” He looks at you, clearly upset. “Do you not know how much you mean to me?”

“You just… sleep with a lot of girls.”

“I don’t only want to sleep with you, love. You’re so much more to me than that. I wanna make you my girl.” He says earnestly, looking you right in the eyes as he speaks.

“But I just thought-”

“Doll, your letters were the only thing keeping me sane when I was away. A girl like you is no one night stand.”

“You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. Is that why you’ve never let me kiss you before?”

You feel yourself blush even harder. “Yeah.” Your eyes fall to the floor but he lifts your chin back up right away.

“Let me show me how much I love you.”

He waits for a moment until you finally nod. He then closes the space between your lips and kisses you with just as fervour as before. You whine into his mouth as his hands squeeze at your waist and before you know it, one of those hands is sliding up your skirt. You let out a gasp as he begins to rub you through the thin fabric of your panties. You never knew a man could bestow such pleasure.

“Mmm, Tommy.” You whimper out.

“You like that, pretty girl?” He rubs your pearl a little more firmly now. “Why don’t you take those panties off and lie on your bed for me?”

You climb back on your bed quickly and he smirks at your eagerness. You pull your panties off from under your nightgown and he lifts the hem of the garment so he can see your glistening cunny.

“Knew you wanted it.” He smirks before beginning to rub your pearl directly now. As he does, he uses his other hand to free himself from his trousers. His fingers slip inside of you now as he starts stroking his cock.

“I want you, Tommy… all of you.” No other words could have been more perfect for him to hear.

“This is your first time, right?” He asks slowly as he lines up with your entrance. 

You nod.

“I’ll be real gentle with you then.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your lips as he slides in. It does sting ever so slightly but nothing akin to pain even with how big he is.

“You can um… continue.” He laughs when you can’t seem to find the words.

“I’ll take good care of you, doll.” He murmurs as he starts to thrust in and out of you.

You’ve never felt anything quite like it before. You’ve pleasured yourself with your fingers before but it’s never felt this good. He seems to hit every spot inside of you that needs attention.

“You feel so good squeezing around me like that.” He praises as he picks up the pace. It feels like he’s fucking into you even deeper now.

“I like it, Tommy.” You whine.

“I knew you would, baby.” He presses fluttering kisses to your neck that contrast very nicely with how he’s pounding into you. He goes back to rubbing your pearl, wanting you to get as close to your peak as he is.

“I think i’m gonna…” You breathe out.

“Do it, darling. Cum for me.” He says and immediately notices how your walls contract around him. 

He fucks your hard through your high, until your squirming beneath him, and then finally pulls out to cum on your tummy, just below where your nightgown rests.

“You did such a good job for me. Made me feel so good.” He whispers as he collapses on top of you. You start to run your fingers through his hair. As much as you would like to savour this moment, you know you can’t.

“My parents will be up soon, Tommy. I can’t imagine how they’d react if they saw the state of us right now.”

“Five more minutes.” He grumbles into your chest.

You sigh. “Fine… five more minutes.”

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

[fictionadventurer]

1980 Pride and Prejudice Episode 1 Thoughts

I'm kind of digging the low-budget 1980s artificiality. Feels comfortable.

Love Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, and the way the script highlights the sitcom vibes of the story, especially in their scenes.

This Lizzie is amazing. She's lively, witty, mischievous, but without feeling like a modern girl in Regency dress. I think I started to fall a little bit in love with her.

Not too fond of Jane so far. Maybe I'm too influenced by other adaptations' takes on her, but she just doesn't act like Jane. I didn't even know which sister was Jane until after the first ball.

This Bingley's a touch too much on the buffoonish side. Though the scenes of banter with Darcy and Lizzie were well-done.

(I'm a bit disappointed they cut out a lot of banter in the letter-writing scene. Now "if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow" seems to come out of nowhere, because we don't get Bingley's witty rejoinder about "comparative heights and sizes").

I'm surprised by how much focus there is on Mary, though disappointed that they portray her piano-playing as "she's terrible" and not "she's better than Lizzie but too stiff and artificial".

Also a lot of Kitty and Lydia! Excellent! (We get the coughing scene!)

Sir William Lucas and Charlotte are both very good.

Everything I've ever heard about this adaptation has focused on how robotic this Darcy is. I guess that skewed my expectations, because I found him shockingly expressive. He's reserved, haughty, and wears his good breeding like a mask, but he's not inhuman. There are plenty of moments where he loosens up a bit, or where we can see the humanity behind the iron control. Like the letter-writing scene--Darcy goes after Bingley for boasting about his poor handwriting, and it might seem like he's just being a pedantic stick-in-the-mud, but he was so straight-faced about it that it was clear to me that he was joking around with a friend.

That first scene with Darcy did feel more like these people were telling us how proud Darcy was before he had a chance to show them.

That first moment with Elizabeth made me realize that the worst thing Darcy says is not "not handsome enough to tempt me" but "I am in no humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men." Ouch.

Fascinated by how much of the narration is put into dialogue (and how well it usually works).

There were several points where the dialogue seemed too stilted and artificial, but it's almost word-for-word from the book, so I can't really complain.

I did find myself wondering how well this works for people who don't know the book. Sure, it's almost word-for-word (if abridged and rearranged in places), but is it engaging on its own merits, or just a satisfying watch for the book-loving pedants who can tell it's word-for-word? Because the style of this feels like something that most people wouldn't find engaging if they didn't already know the story.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Mastermind

Hii, I hope you enjoy this dark!Oscar x reader one-shot I wrote to celebrate his win :)

The only thing Oscar can see as his gaze falls on the crowd is yours. How pretty you look, with tears running down your cheeks, as you stare at him with pride. The only thing Oscar can feel is the first-place trophy and the drops of champagne dripping all over him. It's perfect; he has the girl and the trophy, but it wasn't luck that brought it to him. No, none of it was accidental. After all, Oscar was a mastermind.

It all started when, by chance, he befriended Arthur while racing in Formula 2. Arthur was a nice guy, charming even, but the most important thing about him was that he led you to Oscar.

It was supposed to be an uneventful day. He just had to film some content with Arthur, but Arthur didn't come alone; he brought you with him, his sister. When Oscar first laid eyes on you, he simply knew he had to have you. You looked like an angel who had stepped foot on earth, and not only were you gorgeous, but you were also kind and funny.

"And this is my sister, Y/N," Arthur said as he introduced both of you.

"Hi, Oscar, nice to meet you," you said with an adorable smile as you shook his hand.

Oscar felt his heart race as he shook your hand, captivated by your smile. He took a deep breath, hoping his nerves wouldn’t show too much. “Hi Y/N, it’s really nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice warm but slightly shaky. He added with a shy smile, “I didn't know the Leclercs had a sister.”

And from that day, Oscar's plotting began. You ended up falling for his trap and consequently falling for him. You two started dating after he won F2, and you finished high school. You'd been together ever since.

Oscar’s love for you was intense, almost consuming, but he always had a way of making it seem endearing rather than overbearing. Every moment he spent with you was calculated, a part of his grand design to keep you close, to make you his. He showered you with attention, always knowing what to say and do to make you feel special.

His obsession, though deeply rooted in love, was evident in the way he wanted to know every detail of your day, who you talked to, and where you went. He was your biggest supporter, always encouraging your dreams and goals, but he also subtly ensured that those dreams intertwined with his own.

Oscar loved showing you off, but only on his terms. At public events, his arm was always around you, a subtle message to everyone that you were his. He would whisper sweet nothings in your ear, making you blush and smile, ensuring all eyes were on the two of you, but mainly on how happy you seemed together.

In private, his devotion was even more apparent. He planned elaborate dates, surprised you with thoughtful gifts, and wrote you heartfelt letters. His eyes would light up whenever you entered the room, and he always found a way to touch you, to reassure himself that you were real and you were his.

After the race and debriefing ended, he took you to a secluded spot overlooking the city. The lights below twinkled like stars, and he held you close, his gaze intense yet tender.

“You know, Y/N,” he began, his voice low and earnest, “I don’t think I could do any of this without you. You’re my muse, my reason for everything.”

You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his words seep into your heart. “I’m happy to be by your side, Oscar.”

His grip tightened slightly, a subtle reminder of his possessiveness. “And I’ll always make sure you stay there,” he whispered, sealing his promise with a passionate kiss.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel the intensity of his emotions, his love, and his obsession. It was as if he was pouring all his feelings into that single moment, making you feel cherished and desired. The city lights blurred into a soft glow, and all you could think about was how perfect everything felt in his arms, where you belonged.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Can you do a hc of the lost boys finding out that their mate is VERY rich?

Yes omg absolutely!!!

I am fully convinced that the boys just have no concept of the value of money whatsoever. They don't have an exact need for it, and the money they do have has been - let's sya its been locally sourced, right? So they don't earn money, they don't pay rent, and the only thing they ever really buy is things they want - not need per se.

Just to kind of establish what we're dealing with here

They do realise immediately that their mate is well off, you know, living in a big house and not ever having to worry about money

And they do notice that their mate has some designer brands that they've heard of

But it still doesn't quite click how rich their mate actually is until, one day, they get invited over to their place

It's bigger than the boys thought, and they are taken aback when they realise you have an actual butler? Like - that's something you never really mentioned to them.

It's only then that they really realise that their mate is not just well of, but that they're absolutely rich. Capital letters RICH.

The reason their mate invited them over was to show them what they were working on.

They lead the boys down into the basement, and there they find a large area, with sunproof rooms made especially for them if they ever need a place to stay that's not the cave.

They love it - but they're still not quite sure how to react to their mate being that rich

It does explain why their mate never wanted them to pay when out on a date.

Paul is the first to fully come around, jokingly calling their mate "majesty" and other fitting royal titles. He loves that their mate doesn't have to worry about any financial problems. Also, he might - not so subtly - hint towards several things he's been wanting. A new motorcycle, a new and improved soundsystem for the cave, you know - little things.😉

David's more curious about how they accumulated all that money. It's a lot, and to be that rich? So their mate tells him, showing him all the company's their family own or have shares in. His mate also shows him what they do with all the money - obviously, a lot is kept for the family themselves, but a lot goes towards climate causes or children's welfare. David still doesn't know what to think about it, but he appreciates being the one in the know.

Marko has an intense dislike for such elaborate riches, stating it's a waste of money and that if the money was shared with others, more would benefit from it. He's surprised when his mate agrees. It's a difficult conversation between the two of them, but they come to a compromise. Obviously, his mate can't just get rid of the money, still having a family to deal with that's in charge, but they can make suggestions to the family. So, they try to make sure that their family donates as much as they can because the amount of money they have is a tad bit ridiculous.

Their mate starts a fund in Marko's name, especially aimed at artistically gifted children from low income families, to give them a chance to thrive as artists.

Dwayne is the last to come around, not quite understanding why their mate wouldn't have mentioned their background before. He has to come around to the idea of his mate not only being rich, but being filthy rich. He doesn't mind that they are. He minds that they weren't upfront about it once they started dating. Once he does come around, he will ask his mate to help give Laddie what he needs and wants - which obviously isn't a big deal.

They don't mind that their mate is rich. They only ever see the benefit of it once they come around to the idea

And if their mate decides to turn, they probably take their riches along with them, which will once again only help their mate and them in the long run

So they don't mind, in the end, it will only make their undead live together easier.

[youregonnabeokay-kid]

SO. i was able to figure out the general structure of the script JLH leaked.

[explanation under the cut]

in order for all this to make sense, the first thing you need to know is that in north america all screenplays (scripts) are written in the same format

knowing this, we can deduce the general structure of the scene and even the length of some of the words

first we need to address the big question everyone's been asking:

are they talking about Bobby or Eddie?

screenplays are always typed in courier font, and in courier the capital letters B and E are identical at their left sides.

so while i enjoy people trying to figure out if the blurry letter in line 24 is a B or an E, the answer is it could honestly be either

where we really need to look is line one. the screengrab is blurry so i've outlined the word "going" and circled the area we should pay attention to

at first, the last letter of the prior word looks like an undistinguishable blob, but there is actually one key thing we can discern from it: the letter can't be y, it doesn't hang low enough

there is a chance that the word is not a name and is "he" which would not rule out Bobby or Eddie. however, that would mean the conversation goes on for at least 14 lines without mentioning "him" by name which is (heavily) frowned against in screenwriting. so chances are they're talking about Eddie

also, with what we know about the characters it's most likely Eddie. can you really see Bobby not talking to Buck because of... well, anything? and we already know that Eddie has a difficult time communicating. so i've decided to go with him for this script but haven't 100 per cent ruled Bobby out

moving on to the actual script itself, anything not highlighted in red is something i'm confident is either the exact wording or something similar. the red sections are the parts that i'm less confident in or know are incorrect somehow

Maddie's first dialogue block is the part i had the most trouble with. with context from the following conversation i figured that she probably asked something along the lines of when [Eddie] will be back at work. the main issue with this section is that the top line is actually six letters shorter than what i have written. this also means that the word that follows "going" has to be at least eight letters long. i tried messing around with the dialogue a bit but couldn't come up with something that would fit the appropriate letter count so for now i just wrote a line similar to what i think the actual line probably is

line six has to be either 12 or 13 spaces long and the first word has to be at least four letters long so i used "really soon" as a place holder, but i'm not completely confident in it

for line eight i initially had "Oh, that's good." but the line was one space short so i changed the "Oh" to "Hey" instead. i don't feel too poorly about this one but it still doesn't feel right to me. if the actual script says "Hey" i wouldn't be surprised if JLH changes it to something else or forgoes the exclamation completely

the final line is just a rough guess of what it could be. i'm not sure how formal the 911 writers are with action lines so i just took a random guess. some writers are extremely formal with action lines while others are more comedic with it (Neil Gaiman is a great example of this). i'm guessing the 911 writers are more the former but i honestly have no clue

[grandlinedreams]

hi hi i really love your writing!! if you don't mind a request i was thinking about reader having devil fruit powers, specifically the nagi nagi no mi, and law's reaction to it. he and the reader were apart for some time and in that time she acquired the fruit! thank you!

hiya! aah, that's such a good request, of course I can!! I hope that i've done it justice for you!!

[heads up!: brief mention of Law's light novel, Dressrosa arc spoilers]

“Silent.” 

Despite the low thrum of energy that the murky purple aura emits, you still tense as you slip into the room from the open window, glancing towards the door. Outside, it’s dark and still ㅡ perfect. Turning, you refocus on the task at hand, knowing that you have to be quick. 

Approaching the mahogany desk in the center of the room, your gaze sweeps over the stacks of paper, the neatly lined pens and carefully angled photograph. At first glance, it suggests the presence of a man who’s dedicated to his work, using his family as a motivation. 

Your eyes narrow. What a joke. You’re tempted to swipe the photo and dispose of it, but you also know that it’ll cause more problems than it solves as you crouch behind the desk. The bottom drawer is locked, though it’s a temporary problem solved by the quick work of a hairpin before you slide it open.

The contents at the top are carefully innocent, manila folders with titles scrawled across them, but it’s not what you’re after. It takes a minute of prying around the edges with your fingernails but the false bottom finally pops free, and you stare at the stack of envelopes, the names on them ㅡ and you smirk.

Paydirt. 

The stack of letters are carefully inserted into the satchel slung across your body, false bottom pressed carefully back into place before everything is put back and the lock re-done. You take a couple minutes to make sure absolutely everything is as it was before you entered the room before you approach the window, slipping out of it and making sure to shut it.

It’s a short drop to the ground below, and you glance up at the window, then to the satchel before you turn and slip away like a thief into the night. 

ㅡ

The man before him is an idiot. An influential one, but an idiot nevertheless ㅡ and as Law watches him fluster and attempt to cater to the warlord despite not having said a word yet beyond a greeting, he makes a mental addition of kiss-ass to his assessment. 

“It’s not every day we have one of the warlords here, what an honor!” Shorter than Law by almost a foot and sweating profusely, the man has to take two steps to every one of Law’s in order to keep ahead of him. “You’ll have the finest accommodations here in my estate!”

“Generous of you.” Law glances out one of the many ornate windows, the disparage between the lush, sprawling green of this idiot’s estate and the dull, dusty spider web of town roads beyond it making his eyes narrow. “Especially given that your people seem to be struggling to make ends meet.” 

“It’s nothing to worry about, I assure you.” The mayor blots his face with a handkerchief before stuffing it back into his sleeve. “We’ve been having issues with the locals, but I’m sure we’ll come to an agreement soon.”

Law is far from the biggest fan of the navy even though he now technically “works” for them ㅡ a concession that still makes his mood sour every time he thinks about it ㅡ, but he’ll have no qualms in reporting the blatant corruption when he gets a chance. If they’d even listen, that is. For the difference to be as vast as it is, he wonders if they know and simply don’t care. 

“Ah, just who I was looking for.” The mayor ㅡ whose name Law hasn’t bothered to remember ㅡ comes to a halt, and Law doesn’t look away from his silent observation of the view outside the windows. “Show our guest to his quarters, will you please?”

“Of course, Mayor Tamago.” The newcomer’s voice is vaguely familiar, and it prompts Law to look over, eyes widening a fraction as he realizes he   recognizes the speaker. You stare back, the only sign that you share his surprise being the brief flicker in your eyes, there and gone as you smile at the mayor, who turns to Law.

“This is my assistant, [Name]. They’ll make sure you have what you need.” 

“Right this way,” you say, gesturing for him to follow you down the hall.Once you’re around the corner, you snatch Law’s arm and yank him into the closest room in one fluid movement. Letting go of him, you make sure that the door is locked before rounding on him. “What are you doing here?”

Law raises an eyebrow, arms folded across his chest. “I could ask you the same. You work for that man?"

Your eyes narrow. "No, Iㅡ" You still, turning to eye the door warily. You can't talk here, too risky to use your ability where others can see. "Give me a second."

Law watches as you fish a piece of paper from your pocket as well as a pen, scribbling something down before you hand it to him. "Here. Meet me here tonight." Your eyes flick over him, assessing how he's changed since you last saw him. "We both have explaining to do."

ㅡ 

You've changed a lot since Law last saw you. Leaning against a wall, your arms are folded across your chest, expression contemplative as you stare up at the moon, seemingly unaware of his approach. 

Gone is the gangly teenager who'd glared at him from behind Wolf's back, loud with their fists when sparring and even louder with their words ㅡ but you're still you, just far from what he remembers. 

"Thought you got lost," you say as he approaches, pushing off from where you'd been resting. You've changed out of the outfit from before, wide bands of dark leather braced at your elbows and your knees, along with gloves and boots a shade or two lighter. 

It's in his silent observation that Law becomes abruptly aware that you aren't alone, tensing as someone steps from the shadows. Your expression doesn't change, however, even as you pivot to gesture to your companion. "Law, this is Sabo."

Law isn't dumb. The news coo and word of mouth keep him well informed, and the man standing next to you is familiar only in name and face, printed on the occasional page. 

Sabo is second in command within the Revolutionary Army. His expression is friendly if not a little guarded, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder. "[Name] told me they ran into an old friend, but I wasn't expecting it to be a warlord." 

"It's still a new development," Law replies, then glances at you. "I wasn't aware you'd joined the rebels. Is that why you're here?"

You nod. He waits for you to say more, but you're looking around before you glance at Sabo, who debates for a moment before he nods. You lift a hand and snap your fingers before uttering a phrase that Law never thought he'd ever hear again. "Silent."

And suddenly he's ten again, watching that murky purple aura encompass him. But this time he's not standing in an alley, and you're not Corazon. 

"We're taking a big risk telling you all of this," Sabo says, pulling Law's attention from you. "But [Name] trusts you, so I'll trust their judgment." 

ㅡ 

"That devil fruit…" Law trails off as he walks in step with you. He's tried to think of how to broach the subject with you over the last ten minutes in any way that doesn't involve grabbing you and demanding you tell him how and where you came across that particular devil fruit. 

"Surprised, huh?" Your tone is softer now. "I stumbled upon it by accident. I had every intention of letting you know somehow, but…” Your right hand comes up, pressing against the front of your left shoulder. “I landed myself in something of a desperate situation right after, so I…”

“It’s fine.” It’s not, it really isn’t ㅡ but Law tells himself that it is, because there’s nothing he can do about it now. And somehow, he has the feeling that if Corazon knew that it’s you who has his power now, he’d approve. “So you’re done here?”

“Mm. Sabo’s going to turn in that information I stole to the appropriate people, and things should fall into place after. I’ll stay here to make sure, but it shouldn’t take long.” You glance at him, eyes glimmering with amusement. “Why, that eager to get rid of me?”

He smirks. “You’re more tolerable than you used to be. I was going to ask if you’d want to come with me instead. I could use someone with your talents.”

“Yeah, yeah, just admit you missed me already.” Your tone is teasing, though your expression sobers. “As tempting as that offer is, I can’t just abandon the rebels.” You reach for his hand, ignoring the way he tenses as your gloved fingers brush over the stamped letters on his knuckles. “You’ll see me again, Law. Sooner than you think.” It’s a rejection at worst and cryptic at best, and you temper your words with a grin that’s entirely the you of his memories. “Try not to miss me too much until then, okay?”

ㅡ

The next time that Law sees you, it’s after everything that’s unfolded in Dressrosa. It’s far from somewhere that he wants to see you, but when he catches wind from Luffy that Sabo (who’s his brother, of all things) is here, he suspects (read: hopes) that you’re lurking around somewhere as well. 

And he ends up being right, because you accompany Sabo in visiting while they’re tending to various injuries in Kyros’ old house. “Glad you didn’t lose your arm,” you remark when you settle next to him, studying the neat bandaging that covers the healing stitches. “But you did what you set out to do, didn’t you? So congratulations are in order.” 

“It wasn’t how I planned,” Law says flatly and all you do is laugh. You’d gotten the impression from your brief interactions with the Strawhat crew that they weren’t fond of following plans ㅡ and Law’s frustrated expression only hammers that home. He tries not to let himself enjoy your presence, knowing that it’s fleeting ㅡ you’ve been set on a different path than him, ever since you parted ways the first time. 

When Sabo moves to leave after handing Zoro the vivre card he’s had made for Luffy, he expects you to get up and join him ㅡ and when you don’t, Law nudges you. “Aren’t you leaving?”

“Do you want me to? And here I thought you said I was tolerable now.” There’s more than amusement gleaming in your eyes and when he frowns, you roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Sabo and I are parting ways for now. He has business regarding the summit and I’m being sent to deal with the fallout of this fiasco, however it pans out.” You get to your feet, stretching. “And as I recall, a friend of mine made an offer to me a while ago.” You pause. “Does that offer still stand?”

Shooting star that you are, you’ve seen fit to linger for him ㅡ how long, Law isn’t sure. But you’re smiling at him, and it means more to him than he cares to admit.

“Of course it does.”

[justelib]

I heard u need some baku requests so I’m here to place one 🥸

Bakugou x fem reader where she confessed to him in middle school but he rejects her, few years later in U.A she has a major glow up and he starts to catch feelings. (Bonus if he gets a tad jealous from hearing their guy classmates talking abt her)

I thank you for this request! It’s is quite short, but I am planning a part two for this!

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Warnings: bullying, humiliation, Kyoka Jiro is BISEXUAL! Mean Bakugou, as always.

Fear, embarrassment, sadness, it was hard to place the emotions, she stood there, squeezing her hands while she looked down, he was laughing at her, showing his friends the very personal letter she had written for him. She could feel the tears threaten to spill out, she couldn’t even form words.

“I find that you brighten up the room every time you enter it, I honestly don’t know what this feeling is, but if you’d give me a chance, I’d like for us yo get to know eachother.” Bakugou’s friend mocked in a stereotypical high voice, sounding nowhere near like y\n.

She bit her lip, holding back her sobs as Izuku Midoriya escorted her out of the class room. Middle school was hell since then, absolute, living, burning, hell.

•

UA high, the best hero school in Japan, she honestly couldn’t believe she was excepted, not that she didn’t have an amazing quirk, but because of her lack of points. Y\N made her way through the school gates, her large Canvas satchel bag at her side. She was running a bit late so she was quite literally Skidding around every corner to make her way into 1-A, only to stop upon a large door.

“What in all things holy?” Y\N blinked up at the door, it was weird, because the door handle was quite low, no one of that height would have been able to reach it.

The girl just shrugged it off and opened the door, to be faced with an older man, and if she was into older man, she’d probably find him attractive…if he didn’t look like a bright yellow caterpillar.

“Wait.” She blinked rapidly for a second. “Aren’t you the erasure hero, eraser head?” She smiled brightly, “I’m quite a fan, I admire how you try to stay out of the press.”

Aizawa stared.

“Sorry, i’m L\N Y\N, but please, call me Y\N.” She smiled. “I’ll go find a seat now, I’m sorry I’m a bit late, I missed my train (?)”

“It’s fine, sit down.” He replied exhaustedly.

Y\N faced the class, finally realising who else was in the class. Her face harden, seeing as the only seat left was next to him. ‘So cliche.’ She thought, before making her way over the the seat next to Bakugou, placing her bag under the desk. She didn’t look at him, not even a glance, she couldn’t even form the words on how much she despised him.

He, on the other hand…stared at her as if she was unrecognisable, also noticing how Denki kaminari and Kyoka Jiro were staring at her.

“That is the hottest girl I have ever seen.” Denki whispered under his breath.

“You’ve said that about every girl that entered this room.” Jiro rolled her eyes.

“Except you.” Denki snapped back, though, he definitely thought she was good looking.

“Shut up.” Jiro rolled her eyes.

Bakugou watched the conversation, only really picking up Denki’s first sentence, and for some odd reason, he could feel the all to familiar anger bubble in is gut.

——————————————————

Bro, it actually so short, I am so sorry 😭😭🙏🙏 I fr didn’t mean for it to be so short, I’ve literally written over 1000 words for a single chapter, but it’s nearly 11 and I have to be up early tomorrow <\3

[bet-on-me-13]

Silent Chaos prompt

I don’t know if that is the actual ship name, but Dani Phantom usually has Chaos in her ship name and Cass is really sneaky so Silent? idk, anyways-

I have an idea for an angst story involving this ship

Dani and Cass have been friends for a while now, and recently started dating, but the rest of her family doesn’t really trust Dani. She doesn’t have any sort of backstory, she seems to be (badly) hiding Meta Abilities for unknown reasons, she constantly references a Brother somewhere in Illinois who doesn’t seem to exist, and she is nowhere to be seen some nights. So overall she seems very suspicious.

Cass feels slightly betrayed that her Family doesn’t trust her Girlfriend, even when she vouches for her. There’s too many red flags for them to ignore, so she can’t really argue with them, but she still feels like they should trust her judgement.

Dani meanwhile has a passive aggressive relationship with them at best. She kind of dislikes them because they have made their opinions on their relationship apparent, but she tries to be passive for Cass.

This all comes to a head one night when Dani is at her night job. She is a low level henchmen working for Penguin, cause she needs to pay the bills some way and she can’t exactly set up citizenship while being hunted by the GIW. Dani also hates the idea of mooching off of her girlfriend. She gets involved in a fight with the Bat Family, and she is managing to barely hold her own, even while still hiding her powers.

She is wearing a classic Goon mask, so they can’t recognize her as she fights them.

Orphan joins the fight, and during their scuffle they rip each others masks off. They are both shocked, and Cass freezes long enough to get shot in the back by a stray bullet.

Dani just falls to her knees as the battle ends, the other Goons retreating as she stays with Cass on the ground. The rest of the Bat Family rush up to her and push her away, trying to tend to Cass. Maybe Damian even says something along the lines of “I knew we couldn’t trust you!”

But Dani knows she needs to hurry. Cass was shot in the Spine, which is going to kill her soon, not even mentioning the blood loss. So she rushes in, phasing past the Bat Family members that try to stop her, and jumps into Cass’s Body to Overshadow her. While being overshadowed, Cass has all of her powers including her Regeneration, but it’s going to take a while to heal damage this intense.

She manages to at least stabilize her, and then uses her floating to get cass upright.

The Bat Family immediately try to restrain her, try to do anything to force her out of Cass’s body, anything to save their sister. But Dani refuses, and can’t get a word in to explain. They are being very aggressive, verbally not physically obviously, accusing her of a bunch of stuff while yelling at her to get out of their sister. 

Eventually, Dani can’t take it anymore and has to run away. Flying away at top speed, she manages to get away and hide in an abandoned apartment while she focuses on healing Cass’s body. She also leaves a letter in her pocket, explaining what happened and that she needed to leave after this, because the GIW would hear about this and try to capture her.

Meanwhile, the Bat Family is assuming the worst as per usual. They think Dani only became friends with Cass in the first place to get the chance to steal her body, or to blackmail them by using Cass as a hostage, or something equally horrible.

They eventually find a lead. Dani had the same powers as an Ectoplasmic Entity, meaning she is an imprint of a Human Consciousness which has absolutely no empathetic or emotional feelings whatsoever. This further solidifies their theory that Dani was just using Cass this entire time.

(If they had been in a more right state of mind, they would have found that the Dr’s who published that study later retracted it for misinformation)

They also find out that there is a Government Agency called the GIW who works to hunt these sort of creatures. Out of options (JLD is off world), they contact the GIW under their Civilian identities, claiming that a Ghost kidnapped Cass in the night and escaped.

The GIW appears, manages to trap Dani as she is getting for supplies to patch Cass’s body up, and delivers her to the Waynes so they can perform an “exorcism” (basically they just boot Dani out of Cass’s body using Blood Blossoms)

Cass is released from the Overshadowing, still very much injured but stable and healing thanks to Dani. The GIW capture Dani as she tries to escape, and take her away.

Cass is put in the Medical Wing, and when she wakes up, she asks where Dani is. Bruce tells her that Dani was arrested for kidnapping her, and she wouldn’t hurt her anymore. Cass is angry, she had some memory of being overshadowed, and she could hear Dani’s panicked thoughts the entire time.

She was desperate to save her, even risking using up all of her energy to heal her. She used up all of her emergency funds to buy medical supplies, even knowing she would need them soon because her Power Usage would attract “them”

She tells them to leave her alone. And when they try to stay, she nearly screams at them, before her muteness kicks in and she just signs ‘Leave’, throwing a piece of paper at them. They pick it up and leave as she starts crying to herself

 It is the letter from Dani, apologizing for having to Overshadow her and apologizing for not telling her about the Night Job. She explains that once she is healed, Dani is going to have to leave and never come back, because the GIW will find her if she stays. And she can’t risk being captured, because the might do what they did her brother to her.

They are confused, finally second guessing themselves, and leave her in peace as they go to do a more thorough investigation. Now that they are in their right minds, and have seen Dani’s Ghost Form, Tim feels like it’s kind of Familiar.

He looks it up, and lo and behold, he finds an Article about “Phantom and Phantasm”, the Ghost Fighting Heroes of Amity Park who mysteriously disappeared about 7 months ago.

Right after the “Anti-Ecto Acts” were passed in Congress.

Which, now that he’s looking them up and reading more thoroughly, seem extremely unethical. They gave the GIW permission to do anything they want with Ghosts, declaring them non-sentient and completely malicious.

The Anti-Ecto Acts, combined with the letter mentioning her brother, makes Tim realize what’s going on.

The GIW killed the Hero Phantom, and they just gave them the Hero Phantasm. 

And that is the perfect explanation for all of their suspicions about Dani. She has no backstory because she died years ago (presumably), she was hiding her powers because the GIW would find her is she used them, her brother doesn’t seem to exist because he’s dead, and she disappeared some nights because she can’t get a Legal job and unfortunately Goon Work is one of the better paying jobs in the city.

And she ran away because they were screaming at her in a rage, not because she wanted to kidnap their sister. She was terrified of them.

Looking back to the studies on Ectoplasmic Entities, They had been retracted years ago after the Dr’s who published it discovered that Ghosts were sentient after all, and not all of them were malicious. Since then they had been speaking out against the Anti-Ecto Acts, saying that the GIW had killed their son, which, looking at their collateral damage records, was not hard to believe.

They had fucked up. And both Cass and Dani were suffering for it.

[taeraemisu]

the words i wanted to say ; taerae zb1

synopsis ; after getting blocked on almost everywhere, taerae wrote a bunch of emails (or letters) to reader which he never got the chance to send (or so he thought)

genre ; exes, slight ‘i didn’t know you sent letters/emails’, angst, kind of miscommunication ?, drunkenness

pairings ; taerae x reader, mentions of evnne park hanbin

word count ; 1.8k words

“yn blocked you?!” park hanbin spit out his drink, the liquid getting all over taerae’s clothes and the table.

“gross,” he grumbled, taking a napkin and wiping the droplets off. “but yes, they did.”

taerae did not know what to do. yes, you and him did breakup but that didn’t justify you blocking him on all social media accounts and his number. he just wanted to talk.

both him and hanbin were catching up in a convenience store, telling each other about the significant things that happened since they last met. in fact, it was just the second time they have met in the year.

“but why? was the breakup really that bad?” hanbin asked, cleaning up the spill. “how long has it been?”

taerae sighs. “it’s been months honestly. not that long after since we last met actually.” he paused and thinks further. “i actually haven’t seen yn since the breakup. i tried contacting them but … i was blocked everywhere.”

hanbin gives his friend a pitiful look. he knew how much taerae liked you. he remembers the first time taerae asked you out, where taerae was pacing around the room stressed and panicking after sending the text. it seemed like you both would last forever.

apparently not.

“i never crossed paths with yn at work so i wouldn’t know,” hanbin grumbles. both you and hanbin worked in the same work industry so there were times you would meet him by chance. “oh! have you tried emailing them?”

taerae tilted his head. email? he wasn’t going to go as far as to email you.

right?

“i … never thought about it,” taerae whispers. his friend shakes his head. “what an idiot,” hanbin chuckles. “if you really need to talk to yn so desperately, email works. i highly doubt they even thought about blocking you on gmail.”

taerae thought about it. should he email you? he shakes his head. no. absolutely not. he was not going to go that low.

right?

hanbin takes out his wallet and looks through it, before taking out a business card. he slides it across the table for taerae. “here. yn’s business card. their email is on it. and their work number. actually … did you even went to their work place?”

taerae shakes his head. he did consider that thought but he did not want to bother you. yes he wanted to talk to you so badly to talk things out, but he would never disturb you at your workplace. he had some decency for himself. “do you have a personal email instead?”

“you don’t even know your partner’s own-“ taerae shoots hanbin a glare. “-i mean, ex-partner’s email?”

“i only had their school email, which was from before we even graduated,” the dimpled-boy says sadly. “and that email is long gone now. and you knew yn, they immediately went straight for work afterwards.”

hanbin shrugs his shoulder. “i don’t have their personal, sorry.” he gives his friend an apologetic smile. “but try using their work email, it could work.”

taerae glanced at the business card and picks it up, before placing it back on the table. there was no way he was going to email you.

right?

taerae stares at the business card that was in his hands. he can’t believe he’s going as far as to thinking about emailing you. he was now back at home. after the meet up with hanbin, he seriously considered about emailing you. but with your work email? no.

taerae knew how work was everything to you, and he could not bare to go as far as emailing you. but he had to talk to you to work things out. it’s been months but how could you guys not even cross paths once? did you move away without him knowing? where did you go?

taerae sat down on his desk and his laptop was opened right in front of him, typing in your email. oh gosh, he was really doing this.

“no, i can’t,” taerae whispers to himself, stopping himself from writing anything more. he couldn’t. what did he have to say? he glanced at the small duck-puppy plushie that was sitting peacefully on his desk. it was the gift you had given him for your second anniversary together. you had always said he looked like a mix of a duck and a dog so you crocheted that plushie as a gift.

oh, it meant so much to taerae.

he smiles at the little memory. he missed you. where did it all go wrong?

he glanced around his room. he sees a guitar you had given him for his birthday in the corner. even though taerae had already owned one, that particular guitar was even more special as it had his initials and a doodle of a his face engraved into it. a doodle you made. he glanced at the painting of a park that was hanging over his bed. it was a painting of the park you both went to on your first date together, all those years ago. painted by you.

there was you in everywhere he looked.

taerae looked back at his computer, his fingers having a mind of his own while he starts to type out the email. yes, taerae would go that low.

first unsent email . .

yn,

i know that i am crossing the line. i can’t help it. i need to talk to you. you can never find me again, i just had to talk to you. you know what’s funny, i was never going to write this. i didn’t want to actually, but hanbin gave me this crazy idea. he even gave me your work email. hanbin has always been crazy since school right?

i didn’t even realised this but you gave me so many things over the years. like that duck-puppy plushie? he’s literally sitting next to me right now, wondering where his parent went. what should i say? we named him tubbies right? or was that just me? you used to have me saved as taeraetubbies, i wonder if you still do. or maybe you deleted my number. i guess that’s the most probable choice. i’m sorry, can we talk?

-taerae

taerae looked at what he has written but his mouse hovered over the draft button. he couldn’t do it. how could he? you clearly did not want to be bothered by him. taerae finally clicked on the draft button, closing his laptop, letting out a deep breath. he misses you so much.

second unsent email . .

yn,

it started snowing today. they say the person you are with on the first snow is your soulmate. which is funny, when we first started dating, we spent the first snow together. it’s kinda ironic how things turned out. i was a dick when we broke up, and i swear i meant to word things differently. i hope if i ever get the urge to send these emails, you are willing to hear me out at least. you can never talk to me again afterwards, i just need to explain myself you know?

how come i never saw you again? when we were together, there were times i would meet you on the street by chance. i would joke and say it’s fate and you will say it’s just a coincidence. you never believed in fate, right? well what if i say it’s fate that we broke up, would you believe in it then? i still think it’s fate that we first met. if i had taken an earlier bus and that bus didn’t get stuck in traffic, i would have never met you. would we still have met? if it’s meant to be, we would’ve.

-taerae

fourth unsent email . .

yn,

this is starting to be like a diary of mine. i hope i never send these emails then. kind of feels like i am still talking to a part of you. i never got over how you just packed your things instantly and moved out of the apartment. where did you go? i hope you managed to find a warm place to sleep. i kid you not i went out looking for you in the streets in case you got cold or something.

i wouldn’t have thought that was the last time i will see you. i said some things i did not meant to say, and i hope … you did not meant what you said either. it’s been months, and yet, why can’t i forget you? i tried so desperately to get over you but how could i? you are in everywhere i look.

- taerae

seventh unsent email . .

yn,

i was cleaning the house today and i found a scrapbook you made. why didn’t you ever show it to me? why didn’t you take it when you left? did you want me to see it? you were always so good at art, my hand-made pieces for you are trash compared to the things you made for me. why didn’t you tell me about this scrapbook? there were memories and logs from every date we went on from the beginning. when were you ever going to show it to me? i cant tell you how i cried instantly as soon as i saw it. you are everything to me. please.

-taerae

taerae got drunk on one particular night. it was the day it would have been your fifth anniversary together. where did all the time go? it didn’t feel that long to taerae. time passed by so quickly whenever he was with you. he was at home, drinking all by himself before he got up from his seat, stumbling into his room. he opened his laptop, writing one more email to you.

first email . .

yn !!!

it’s otir fifht anjiverdayrh togejther !! five yehads alregsdy? i cnsf beleiev this. liek? i rmeber all the dyss we soent ttoghefr. our firsjf month, our hundrbed dyas, oru thosuand days andb so mhch more. we soent birhtdhas, cheistmas togejther. we alwhas went to teh pakr wehn it was our annivehrsy! i wnet todya, where wrer you :( i miss you so mhch, its bene so lnog sicne we have seen ehahc ither :(( i’m so sorry, lets meent up !!!!

-your teletubbie, taerae :DD

taerae woke up with a splitting headache. he found himself sleeping on his desk. what happened last night? he knew he was drinking all night but did he seriously get so drunk? why didn’t he remember anything? how did he end up sitting and falling asleep on his desk? he sat up straight and realised his computer was still on. oh?

barely half-awaked, he looked at his recent emails. he glanced over at the drafts portion. his eyes widen. no. it can’t be.

drafts > 0

his mouse clicked on it. no, no, no, this can’t be happening. where did all the emails go? did he delete them all? all the things he had wanted to say … were they gone just like that?

his eyes went over to his recent emails. one stuck out to him. oh no. this cannot be real.

yn. NEW > hey, it’s me. i saw your emails we should . . .

© taeraemisu do not copy my works !

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Ummm- Hunger Games AU with mentor!Price and quarter quell tribute!reader from one of the richer districts, probably 1, 2, or 5.

Warnings for typical Hunger Games stuff and a bit more.

For the quarter quell, the “twist” on the games is that the age range is bumped up, so instead of 12-18 year olds being sent to the games, it’s 19-25 year olds being sent. Sort of as a “oh, you thought you were safe? Well fuck you.”

So, there’s no careers, no one’s ready for it. Even the people who wanted to be careers aren’t in any sort of shape to volunteer as tribute, they were long past 18, they’d missed their chance. They’d probably also grown a bit older and had a moment to reconsider the whole very-likely-dying thing.

Price wasn’t from your district in the first place. He’d was originally from one of the poorer districts, maybe even 12. But he’d upset the capital enough for them to pay attention- either with how he won the games or what he did after (i.e.- definitely tried to organize a resistance). So they’d moved him, cutting him off from all his friends, family, and contacts back in his own district. They’d framed it as a reward or honor, he’d done so good competing in the games/coaching tributes that they’d brought him all the way to whatever district they had him on house arrest in.

It was a richer one- where peacekeepers did more than threaten, tessera rates were low, and most importantly, one where they were able to keep a good eye on him. They kept his communication heavily monitored- something he figured out after one too many letters were delivered torn open, with others seemingly getting “lost in the mail” anytime he mentioned something too honest about his situation.

After a while, he’d stopped writing. The handwriting on the returning letters started looking a bit too unfamiliar. (Or maybe that was just his paranoid. Had Simon always written his A’s slanted? Was he just in a rush?) He couldn’t bear the thought of them being dead and him never knowing- continuing to write to people playing off his hope and pretending to be his dead friends. so he’d simply assumed them so. The incoming letters had gone ignored even as they dwindled to nothing, left to pile under his mail slot and be crumbled against the wall by the door on the rare occasions he left the house.

He couldn’t bring himself to move them- either to throw them away or read them through. To trash them would be accepting his friends’s deaths, but to read them would be to reopen his mind to the gnawing of uncertainty over whether it was really ever them in the first place.

Price has more or less turned into a recluse. He’s paranoid- sure that there’s a peace keeper or someone from the capital following him at every turn (the fear’s not unfounded. He’s caught them enough times that he knows they’re there).

He’s beaten down. Everyone he knew and loved is dead. When he’s called up to mentor tributes, it’s never ones with any chance of winning. It’s never careers- always some poor 12 or 13 year old who’s name was drawn on a year where there didn’t happen to be a career that would take their place.

And they always die. And he always watches. And he always mourns.

If you really want to throw in the angst, we could say that Gaz was either the first tribute he mentored, back before he was taken out of district 12 or he was one of the only ones Price had managed to make himself try with. We could say that he put his whole heart into preparing Kyle for the arena, that he thought this would be the start of the poorer districts actually standing a chance in the games. Kyle was his prodigy, but it didn’t matter. Kyle did everything right, he ignored the cornucopia, just grabbed a hunting knife that was somewhat on its outskirts, but it didn’t count for anything. A career hit him in the back with a throwing knife. One of the first kills of the game. John had braced himself for death, no matter how much he thought Kyle had a chance, but it was all for nothing. He didn’t even have a chance to try to survive, taking his life took no more than the flick of someone’s wrist.

Then, comes you. He’s never happy when he’s called up to mentor a tribute, and this time is no different. When he’s called up to mentor one of the tributes for this year’s games, he doesn’t let himself get hopeful, you don’t stand a chance.

You’re not a career, simple as that. He’s only going through the motions, doing what he can for you even though he knows it’s pointless, just waiting to be allowed to return to his empty house back in victor’s village.

He’s stand-offish to you, barely puts any effort into training you beyond telling you which stations in the training hall will help you the most. He’s not really mentally there. In a way, he hasn’t been for years.

During and before the tribute parade, he’d hardly present. You’re left terrified, always glancing behind you, looking to the man who’s supposed to be your mentor for reassurance and finding him dissociating half the time, and not there the other half.

If you’d prefer the non-angsty route, we could say that Kyle and/or Johnny were your stylists, and that they were doing everything they could to try and make you comfortable.

Johnny was cracking jokes, adjusting to your level depending on your age but still trying to just get you to laugh and have a moment of fun, to act like a 16 or 17 year old again and laugh at his dumb, crude jokes and make cruder ones back.

Then Kyle was being sweet too. (we’ll say he was the one doing costumes, while Johnny was doing more hair and makeup stuff.) He’d sat down with you and showed you the costume ideas he’d had for the tribute parade, coaxing you into giving him feedback- even getting you to choose one of the designs and telling him what you’d want to change about it if you could (which all gets done, naturally. He isn’t going to let you go out there without loving what you’re wearing).

He also explains all the designs to you- letting you why he chose the pieces that he did, how each of the elements somehow represents district two. With district two being the district of masonry and weapons manufacturing, the most common costumes were of Roman generals (not quite sure why really but… okay.) So your options actually end up being pretty okay.

All of this is happening, and John is acting like a zombie. And all of this goes on until the first day of training, when you find him during a lunch break and break down crying. You’re sobbing at his feet, blubbering about how you don’t want to die, you want to live- you know he doesn’t believe in you, but you don’t want to die, please.

(And if you’re going with the extra angst version, then god, you reminded him so much of Kyle in that moment.)

So Price picks himself up. He says “Okay, you want to live? We’re going to make you live.” And starts training the living fuck out of you. Every morning, he has you waking up before and staying up later anyone else. He has you learning survival skills, practicing fighting him, he makes you learn to skin/clean animals and how to use nearly every weapon there might be.

He’s determined. He’s going to make you survive, he’s going to get you through this.

And the entire time you’re in the arena, he’s on the edge of his seat. Alternating between being nauseous from anxiety and watching 24 hour coverage of the game like a hawk. He nearly has a stroke when he watches you narrowly avoid some scrawny guy from district 7 right at the edge of the cornucopia, and he cheers (probably stands up and screams “THATS MY GIRL!!”) when you manage to hold your own in a hand-to-hand fight against a guy a head taller than you long enough to make a break for it. (And god, he’s so proud of you- of how smart you are for recognizing battles you can’t win and focusing on survival)

Even when you end up having to leave all your supplies behind to escape that tribute, you’re immediately sent more. You’d somehow amassed an army of sponsors. Public support within district 2 had originally started skewed towards the male tribute (a 19 year old career who never got a chance to volunteer for the other games- not sure how volunteering works, but I assume it’s first come first serve)

But by now, more and more people were cheering for you as an underdog, even people in the capital. So when it gets out that you’d manage to fend off a much larger opponent like you did and that you’d lost all your supplies in the process- the gifts start (literally) flying in.

And the gamemakers and higher-ups in Panem love you too. You’ve got that typical underdog appeal that can be so popular while still being from a “good” district- that’s why they let you get as far as you do.

And lo and behold, you manage to make it out, winning in a gruesome fight between you and the last surviving tribute that somehow ends up with you both on the ground- throwing punches, tearing hair, clawing at skin.

And when you’re brought out of that arena, you’re a mess. Chunks of hair matted or missing, improperly treated wounds, dehydrated, and probably with a concussion or something of the sort.

But John is the first one by your side, he doesn’t let them keep him back while you’re being put back together. He’s running along side the stretcher the doctors have you on, squeezing one of your hand with both of his as he sobs because you did it- you did it- you did it.

And you’re already so loopy from whatever drugs are in your system that all you can say back is I did it- I did it- I told you I was going to live and I did it.

Afterwards, it’s like the two of were trauma bonded. John stays with you for your entire victory tour- every second of it. He refuses to let you sleep in any room without checking it for cameras or bugs, and he’s always right behind or beside you. You yourself aren’t much better- you end up sleeping in his room more often than not. You can’t stomach the thought of being alone, not when you wake up thinking you’re still back in the arena. You guys end up with a little routine- you knock on his door some time after everyone else is asleep, he lets you in and wordlessly takes a blanket and pillow to curl up on the couch- or, when it’s really bad, he builds a pallet for himself right next to where you’re asleep in his bed, just to give you both the peace of mind that you’re safe now. (No way was he letting you sleep on the floor or couch, no when you’d been in the arena no more than a month ago.)

The touring gose on for a bit over a month, but when you two finally do get back to district two, your house in Victor’s Village never even gets moved into, the two of you stay holed up in John’s house for weeks as you recover mentally and he helps you with processing the PTSD you undoubtedly develop.

And over time, you two become so heavily reliant on each other that separation would kill you. It’s not a healthy relationship- John’s paranoia and trauma of having his entire family and life ripped away once before plays off of your issues- but you two find your a balance.

Depending on how you want to read this, things could stay platonic, but even if they do, it doesn’t look that way. The Capitol sees you moving in with John, they see you curled up in his lap having a flashback or panic attack and interpret it as you two are together- which isn’t exactly a good look for them. Having their victor so obviously traumatized during public events and your victory tour was bad enough, but now the middle aged man refusing to leave her side and constantly glancing around like he’s going to make a break for it is even worse.

They see an older man who was in a position of power over you at some point and say “Oh, yeah. We’re not going to show that to the public.” So they quietly retire you and John as mentors, leaving you two to your own devices once they’re done parading you around.

If things ever do go beyond platonic with you two, it wouldn’t be for a long while. Maybe the lines blurred at first, when it became easy for you two to simply exist in each other’s space- just sitting together for hours holding each other as you try to process that you’re really here- that you really made it out. Years are devoted to simply trying to heal- not just for you, but for John too. He’s terrified the Capitol will try to take you from him like they did with his friends and family back in district 12, and he never truly gets over that fear.(how could anyone, really)

But he does get better- mostly with his depression and general hopelessness. It’s definitely not a healthy relationship, but you two aren’t healthy people. You’ve both been through hell and back, and the fact that you’re still alive is enough of a miracle on its own.