#they're both very nostalgic to dai in a way

[sturnberries]

ꕤ TOUGH LUCK - in which lucky is having an unlucky day, and chris makes it better for her.

warnings; just fluff and fluff, intentional lowercase.

ꕤ �� ꕤ ˚ ꕤ ˚ ꕤ ˚ ꕤ ˚ ꕤ ˚ ꕤ

chris didn't really believe in the word luck. or whatever luck meant to him. it was fake, a clover or a dime didn't mean anything to him. until he saw lucky trip down a flight of stairs on her porch falling to her side.

maybe he didn't believe in luck, but he did believe that whatever the hell just happened was super unlucky.

chris quickly made his way over, crossing the street as he looked both ways, and she got up before he could tease her about falling down. he put out a hand and she gently took it pulling herself off the stairs, chris tried to hold his laughter back. she frowned a little bit brushing her sides with her hands.

"what's the frown for?" chris furrowed his eyebrows, and he spoke and a little laugh escaped his mouth. she sighed a little and shook her head and muttered a little ''nothing."

"okay but seriously, what's wrong?" chris asked again wanting to know. he realized she was probably hurt from that fall or something else she would complain about. "did you get hurt anywhere or anything?"

she shook her head and pushed her hair behind her ear a little bit. she was now just walking on the sidewalk wondering why chris was so annoyingly curious and continuing to walk beside her. it was a good warm day, the wind wasn't messing her hair up, the fresh grass smelled nostalgic, yet she was still quiet and not saying a word.

"is miss lucky feeling unlucky today?" chris said with a stupid smirk on his face looking at lucky to see her reaction and maybe she would open up or at least snap at him. why did he mow his way into her life? "tough luck?-"

"enough.-" lucky said as she walked a little quicker trying to leave him behind, praying he'd leave eventually, another part of her kind of hoped he'd stay and talk to her. chris spoke with a genuine tone in his voice now more understanding. "okay, okay I'm sorry, just tell me what happened, yeah?

"i don't even know-? just like alot of things happened I guess." lucky spoke finally opening up to him, chris nodded indicating that he was actually listening to her speak and wasn't messing or joking around with her. like he usually did.

"so it kind of started in the morning, I spilled strawberry milk all over my new white shorts, and now they're stained—and then my favorite sunglasses lenses broke, and I can't fix them and then when I fell down the stairs like an idiot-" she rambled on about what had went wrong on her day a little more and chris waited for her to finish so he could help her out.

"hey, it's okay, maybe just an unlucky day, alright? no need to frown."

"thought you didn't believe in luck."

"yea well—I believe in 'unlucky' now."

"cause of me?"

chris nodded and she mumbled something mean under her mouth. chris was thinking of some ideas on how to maybe fix her day so it doesn't end badly. the sun cast a beautiful glow on his and her face and they squinted their eyes projecting their vision from the sun. a wonderful idea springed into chris's head as he spotted a hill of grass in the distance.

"you look really pretty in the sun, lucky." chris spoke maybe hoping she'd try to get her mind off other things, he looked at her with a stupid smile again seeing her reaction. the truth was even if he was joking she did look beautiful and radiant in the sun, practically glowing.

"can you shut your mouth and walk please." she spoke continuing to walk and didn't believe him for a second—and just like that as they were walking by a hill that was a field of very overgrown grass, chris quickly tackled her into the grass like they were seven year olds as she screamed at him with a laugh. "chris! oh my gosh-."

they both couldn't contain their laughter, he was basically laying on top of her and their giggles were so cinematic. the grass hid her face a little bit, and chris's hand was gently resting on the side of her waist. they squinted their eyes as they laughed at how dumb this all felt, and chris felt better when he heard her laughter. he truly enjoyed making her laugh, it felt like an accomplishment to him. when the laughter died down chris rolled off her to the side of her as they laid closely next to eachother. arms touching eachother and close enough to hear whispers like lovers.

they both exhaled, stomachs hurting from laughing too much, chris wiped his eyes a little from the tears from all the laughter. he turned his head to the side to see lucky still laughing to herself a little. her chest rose up and down slower and slower. chris continued to look at her, not caring if it would get weird or anything.

"you feel better now?" chris asked. she nodded to chris with a sweet yet embarrassed smile on her face. it wasn't that much of a moment but it certainly turned her day around. chris looked around a little and plucked a wild flower with his hand and gave it to her with a silent grin.

"thanks." she said looking at the small delicate wild flower she took from his hands, twisting and turning it around like a ballerina in her hands.

they laid there just like that for a little longer on the slanted hill of overgrown grass like idiots. he was glad that she wasn't thinking about her unlucky day. it was such a small act that happened yet she was as happy as could be. they shared some whispers and giggles here and there.

maybe he did start to believe in at least some luck. he would never admit it though no matter how hard lucky tried. maybe he was just the luck she needed that day.

a/n: oh yes guys I loved this oneee I do take requests and ideas so please send them innn!

luckylawn!au taglist: @vanillaspacecamp @backwardshatnick

[dnangelic]

dark has a hard, absolutely not rule when it comes to underage vices of any sort, but i've gotta say given his and daisuke's shared sweet tooth people could way too easily mistake him having a lollipop for smoking :/

[hollow-vok]

Ohh im obssesed

[nemesyaaa]

sweet creature // truck driver!rafe x housewife!reader

summary : just a few mixed headcanons.

warnings : +18 content. minors dni. strong age gap. sweetheart x old man trope. smut. p in v. teasing. smoking. size difference. full nelson position bc big men lovers club here. hand fetish(sorry.). sleazy!rafe. squirting. loss of virginity. please, be aware of the warnings before reading.

author's note : muchas gracias a mi dulce @rafesangelita for giving me the idea bc i really loved to work on the concept of truck driver!rafe. shout out to crush by ethel cain too for give me the inspo of the story. <333

can't stop thinking about truck driver!rafe who's a proud working man. he's soooo bulky from charging alone some weighty goods on his eight wheelers everyday to deliveries driving for weeks and days. he's massive without forcing just because he's doing so hard with his hands on daily.

speaking of this, he's got such big sized hands. apparent thick veins on the back and calloused on the palms. large fingers with too much strength. easier for him to manhandle you or lift you up. they're very manly and rough. fat and round biceps with a strong size. he's tall and big, literally showing you without speaking who’s the man of the house, and who you belong to. you feel so secure every time he's around because you can be sure no one is touching you, no one is looking down at you, no one just dare to even glance at you. he doesn’t like to fight because he doesn't want you to think he's gonna hurt you one day, but if it's for you, he can do anything.

even if you don't like it, he's always smoking a bunch of cigarettes while he's driving and listening to some kind of old music. john denver or johnny cash are his favs.

he's always buying some new marlboro reds at the gas station with some gum when he's taking a break. if he's not smoking, he's chewing some gums until there is no flavor. he's just needs to get something in his mouth. just a bad habit.

he’s a loyal man that doesn't care about women hitting on him at the gas station. but sometimes, he's nostalgic because years ago , you were one of them. you were that pretty rebelious girl who's acting like she has no dad, no family and proudly flirting with him, doesn't give a fuck about getting away with a stranger. at first, you called him old man to joke. at contrary, he directly called you sweetheart, thinking that you're such a sweet thing.

both of you ended up in the motel. “ im curious of what you’ve got in your pants, old man. ” “ you're too young for that shit. ” “ huh, huh…don't you think it's more like you're too old for that shit, sir ? ” the smirk on his face at the moment was really something else. that fucking attitude of yours making him bite his lips.

the minute after, you were pinned down on the mattress, his whole body size over yours. “ repeat it. ” “ i said, you're too old to fuck, sir. ” “ isn’t a fucking virgin thing who doesn't even know anything about the word she's saying who's talking right now ? ” “ I'm not a virgin. ” you lied, rolling your eyes at the sight. “ i swear, I'm not ! ” he laughed softly. “ why are you lying, so eager to be a little slut ? that's why you ran away with strangers like me ?” it was the first time a man like that, and you were speechless. not in a bad way. it was just surprising. “ i think you're forgetting your manners. ” he said carefully, his blue gaze burning over yours.

“ if you want it, i will fuck you. but i need you to say it. clear and ‘oud. ” you turned your head away because there's no way you're gonna say such a thing to him. “ i will find someone else then. that receptionist girl was pre…” “ fuck me. ” you quickly said before repeating it slower and clearly. “ i want you to fuck me…” “ alright. spread those fucking legs for me, sweetheart…huh, look at you, being so wet for me…you really need me.” “ ugh, just touch me ! stop talking, old man. ” you gasped. “ remember that you asked for it. ”

“ yea, yea. ” he started to unbuckle his belt before taking off his pants. your mouth was gagging at his fat cock hanging between his heavy thighs. “ it’s not gonna suck itself. ” you gasped loudly, swallowing hard. “ i j-just don't know how to do it…show me please. ” “ fine. after all, it's my job as your eldest. ”

and that's how you consumed your first night with rafe.

truck driver!rafe who’s got such a pretty polaroid of you that stays and never leaves his truck. there is your lipstick stains on it and a sweet “ good luck ” written on the white space.

as a good housewife, you always prepare him some delicious meals to keep him fed even if he's away. you're always checking on your man' and loves when he's gaining more weight.

he's starting to get old, hitting his forties soon. he doesn't really care about his physic anymore but you still find him so attractive. when you met him, he was already a grown man so it didn't really change anything. he loves to wear a cap on his messy mullet, thinking that it makes him look cool. biggest tees with long sleeves lover. the fabric is not good enough to hide his muscular frame because his big size is so obvious. and he's wearing those blue jeans that fit his muddy boots.

he's not very hairy, but he's not the type to shave often like he used to when he was younger. he's fine with the apparent thick hair of his happy trail and mustache that makes him look like an 80's pornstar. when he's come home, shirtless and sweating, he's just serving you the best look to fuck.

you're obsessed with his scent after a long shift work. you don't care how strong he smells, you just want to hug him and never leave. while he's holding you tight, he's getting you locked on his hug, your face buried against his heavy and glistening chest. and you can't help but kiss his wet sweating tee.

even if he's tired, just knows this man gonna fuck you very hard, especially when you're so clingy to him. you can forget vanilla with truck driver!rafe, there's no way he's gonna be sweet on your fucking pussy, especially after you've been teasing him with dirty pictures of yourself while he was away and driving. also, he does need some stress relief so prepare to be dumb for at least one fucking day raw.

he's excited the moment he sees you. there is no more teasing. he's now in charge of everything and you better take everything he's gonna give you. this is not like he gives you other choices. at this moment, his favorite position to fuck you will be full nelson because you're trapped on his tight muscular hold, forced to bounce on the thickness of his dick. he's dicking you down so hard that you could hear the famous flap flap flap of his heavy balls slapping your skin.

“ don't fucking move. ” he treaths you with the raspy sound of his voice, while your body is bouncing at every of his thrusts. you're shaking loudly on his rocked abs, lips filled with drool and tears running down your heated cheeks. ” you're so fucking tight..! gonna give your pussy a big stretch…fuck ! ”

every back and forth is powerful enough to make your pussy throbs. the way his fleshy cock is moving and bruising your hole — going further and further to the point your stomach is filled with every inch of his shaft, the veiny lines of his dick pulsating inside your cunt and growing harder on your belly. all your whines and cries are nothing for the truck driver, nothing more than a sign to fuck you even faster and stronger. he still holding your twitching body against his toned chest, feeling every squirms of yours on his sweaty skin, and his hands grips at your back legs, while giving you the craziest thrusts. his hands feel so warm and huge on your lower tummy, fingers bruising at your belly while his length is striking to your spot each time. “ you're d-deep…fuck, rafe !! ah…it feels so good…” you cry out of emotions, tears bursting on your face again. “ yea, right ? fucking deep’. you really feel it inside you baby. ”

he's stretching your cunt so well that you can't stop screaming and quivering, feeling his sweat sticking to your body. his breathing is hard and heavy on the side of your cheeks, his jaw slacks but he keeps his mouth wide open loudly panting and getting deeper and stronger, lips tugging at your ears.

he's such a bully. i mean, his dick is. hitting and hitting your g-spot with any fucking breaks, always striking at it like a weapon. getting no mercy and pity on the way he's making you cry. he loves to see your face turning dumb, eyes wide shut, mouth leaking too much saliva, stupid babbles coming from your trembling lips. he's just pushing himself so deep inside your swollen core, breathy moans filling his lips as his cock hardly twitch between your walls, making your throbs even more. you can't even breathe without choking on yourself.

it's like he knows how to take all your energy with his thrusts. his cock won't leave your pussy alone, the veins still hard and bulged with pumping blood, and balls full even after your first orgasm. but not only he wanted you to come but to squirt too.

“ r-rafe, i feel it coming…nghh! ah stop. i c-ca…” “ just let it go, baby. can you do that for me ? ” and it happens just two seconds after, your stretched pussy opening bigger to splash a strong liquid over your folds and making a pool everywhere on yourself. you can't even process the situation that his dick is back into your walls again, merciless pounding your wetted hole. with the same fucked pace. you're such a shivering mess you can't feel anything except the length that's driving hard in your soaked insides. now that you're squirted, it's such a big wet place on your cunt. and he leads him to make you squirt another time. the sound of your pussy pumping his dick is so squishy and loud.

when he comes inside you, you can be sure it's gonna leak a lot from your slick. he's gonna fuck until his balls are empty, and your pussy gonna coats with so much of his sperm.

to be sure of his cock being dry, he's softly slapping at your lips with the tip, and making you clean it. he loves how sloppy you're sucking when you're tired, but he's a hard sucker for the look you give him when his dick weakly falls out of your mouth, and a stream of his sperm sticks at your lower lips.

and you're just off, laying your body back to the sheets.

you can't believe this man was soon forties. you simply can't believe it.

[changbunnies]

Devourance (18+)

♡ Pairing: Dracula / Nosferatu!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: vampire au, dracula / nosferatu au, 1800s au, human / vampire relationship, horror themes, reincarnation, soulmates, smut

♡ Word Count: 3.9k

♡ Summary: Hyunjin has crossed oceans of time to find you– the one who's blood calls to him, who beckons for him in the dead of night, who yearns for his touch against all conceptions of what one must and must not desire. The ancient Vampyr has an appetite for you; an appetite that won't ever be sated.

♡ General Warnings: reader has depression (referred to as melancholy), reader is a lucid dreamer, usage of vampire abilities (invading dreams, shapeshifting, heightened senses), hyun's true form is very Creature Vampire so. still sexy if ur a monster fucker like me but some of y'all may not like that lmao

♡ Smut Warnings: does having sex with someone inside their dream count as somnophilia? idk !!, outdoor sex (kind of; it's a dream so they're not really outside lol), wet dreams, pet names (my love, my heart), referenced biting and blood drinking, unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: originally, when i was planning my late kinktober fics, this was strictly a dracula au (as i love the 1992 movie and have a beautiful copy of the book sitting in my horror novel collection <3) but i saw the nosferatu remake in theaters and it rotted my fucking brain lmao so this became a blend of both ! i hope you enjoy it, cause i had a blast writing it <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

It starts as a dream; a waking one, so vivid and lucid that the line between conscious reality and imagination blurs, all perception of time and space bending and warping to what your subconscious mind feels most safe and familiar.

Your hands clasped together, a deep breath before you close your teary eyes, your souls desires laid out in a whispered prayer– "Come to me."

Who are you asking for? Who will heed your call? A friend you wish to have, but have yet to obtain? An imaginary prince charming who will right all the wrongs of your life with his presence alone? God himself? Death?

You do not know– all you know is that you are desperate for an escape from the melancholy that permeates your life, seeping its way into every crack of your porcelain heart, as thick and murky black as tar. It sticks to you, wraps itself around every cell, clinging to you in a loveless embrace.

Even in your dreams you cannot escape it; so often you hear tale of joyous dreams. Dreams in which you stand upon the altar, waiting to be wed to the love of your life, dreams in which you share a dinner with one you admire, or dreams in which you have coveted all that you desire.

You are regaled with recollections of dreams full of simple pleasures; warm and nostalgic, dreams of playing in the front yard as a child, with your mother's freshly baked bread wafting to you from the open window. Dreams of early school days, where one's only worry in the world was what they'd play when they got back home.

For some, dreams are entirely nonsensical; there is often no clear purpose, nor story, nor concrete feeling– but it is pleasant in its own right, and entertaining to recall the absurdities in which you found yourself in the middle of.

You do not experience such simple pleasures.

While for others, dreams are a pleasant escape from everyday life, a blissful end to an arduous day of work, your dreams are an extension of your reality. They offer no comfort, nor joy, nor escape from your bleak, mundane existence. You are ever as aware of yourself whilst asleep as you are while conscious, feeling every emotion just as strongly as you do in the light of day.

You wish you could say you have adapted to life with your melancholy, or learned to be at peace with it, or that you don't mind having no escape. But the truth of the matter is that your dreams being not a safe haven as they should be tolls on you, made worse by the fact that even in the sanctuary that should be your mind, you are utterly alone and miserable.

So there you stand in your waking dream, wishing for a change. A mirror of your reality, your status within your dream reflects the state you were in before falling to sleep. You are in your bedroom, as pitch dark as you left it when blowing out the candles, the only illumination coming from the moon shining through your balcony doors.

You stand in the middle of the room, hands clasped and eyes closed as you whisper your prayers, the same lily-white chemise you wore to bed draping your body. So perfect a recreation of your surroundings, that were it not for the fact that you so vividly remember adhering to your sleep routine and laying your head against the pillows, you might not even be able to say that this was a dream at all.

And though it is just the confines of your mind, and you are certain no one but God can hear you (if he will listen, and hasn't yet turned his back on you), you plead. 

"Come to me. A guardian angel, a spirit of comfort, a spirit of any celestial sphere– anyone, anything. Please, hear my call."

There is naught in the room but silence when you are finished; you are as alone with your thoughts as you ever are. You take a breath, blink away building tears, readying yourself to try again– and then, to your greatest surprise, there is a response.

For the first time in all your many dreams, a voice answers you– soft, an indistinct whisper akin to your own, but you hear it echo in the silence of your bedroom. Your eyes shoot open, a soft gasp leaving your parted lips as you look around the room.

Slowly, you lower your hands, taking an unconscious step forward, closer to where the voice calls to you from your balcony. You cannot yet discern what the voice is saying, nor can you see their figure, but you watch breathlessly as the lock on your balcony doors seems to unlatch itself, a sudden gust of wind pushing it open.

The air is cooler than you'd expect for a late spring's breeze, but you do not shiver or shrink away from the sudden chill; instead, you tentatively take another step, following the unfamiliar, beckoning voice. The voice becomes clearer the closer you step to the balcony, and though you see nothing out of the ordinary before you, you feel them.

No, to say you do not see them is not right– invisible in your mortal gaze, yes, but the moon casts their shadow on your wall, your curtains billowing with the steady breeze capturing their inhuman silhouette. And surely it is merely a trick of shadow that makes the figure appear so inhuman– because how else can you grapple with so foreign a creature standing before you?

You rationalize the impossibly tall silhouette as the moon elongating their shadow, the sharp and pointy length of their nails having simply become exaggerated, the unnatural point of their ears the result of a penumbra trick. Their figure vanishes with each fall of your curtains, reappearing with each rise; but their shadow ever lingers, eerie black against your ivory walls.

Their shadow serves as a reminder, you think– that even when you cannot see them, they will be there. Watching, beckoning, waiting; the voice, once so indistinct and otherworldly, is now crystal clear in your ears. Soft but luminous, it calls you as you take another cautious step closer.

"You," the voice starts, and though soft, it is an aching rasp– reminiscent, you think, of when one has fallen ill, or of times when one's throat has grown stiff from disuse. You have no further time to ponder if this is the man's– creature's?– natural inflection; for in just a few more careful utterances, their tone smooths, the soft voice becoming silken.

"You," the male voice repeats, smooth as satin and utterly mesmerizing, "I have heard you. And I answer in turn– come to me."

The shadow moves along your wall then, creeping closer to you; it feels as if it envelops you, embracing you with a blissful warmth you've never before felt. It clings to you with each step, but it does not feel like the melancholic tar you are accustomed to; it is a gentle ribbon, guiding you further with promises of sweetness you have so long craved.

Holding now to the railing of your balcony, you look to the gardens below. There you see him, standing amongst the tall, twisting trees and blooming lilacs. He gazes up at you, eyes black as a void, and yet they still shine in the light of the moon.

And just as a void promises to, his look swallows you whole. You lose yourself in the dark, hypnotic pool of his eyes, stumbling forward almost blindly, with one simple thought– you must go to him.

You are before him in an instant, though you have no recollection or understanding as to how. Did you walk off the balcony and fall below? Did you turn back and trek through the house to make it to the gardens? Is this the absurdity of dreams that normally eludes you, or is a greater power at work?

The answer seems of little importance; bewitched by the man standing before you, you find that logic and rationality hold no value. He is here, perfection and beauty embodied wholly– the answer to your prayers; that is all you care to know.

Your hand trembles, your utmost desire now to reach out and feel him beneath your fingertips, to confirm that he is not just a figment of your dream– that there really was someone in this world who could hear you from beyond, and cared enough to respond to your call.

Hair as black as his eyes, a few long strands falling over his perfect cheekbones, while the rest is tucked behind his normal, and not at all pointed, ears. He has full, plush lips shaded in an enchanting, muted red, with a little mole under his left eye and utterly flawless, pristine skin.

He is ethereal, and radiant, and he is here for you– and while his eyes hold a darkness you have never before seen, his smile is impossibly tender. He takes your trembling hand in his own, and you can feel his nails poke your skin as he closes it around you.

They are long, yes, but not as long and pointed as his shadow would've led you to believe them to be. There is a part of you that decides you were correct to think his features were simply exaggerated and warped by shadow, though the deep recesses of your heart and mind know this isn't true.

Whatever he is, whoever he may be– he is not of this world, you know that for certain. For who else in the world could hear you? Who would have the power to meet you in your mind? A trickster, an angel, a devil? It matters not, you decide; for perhaps, in some ways, you are not of this world either.

Perhaps you have always felt melancholic, twisted, and odd, because your destiny did not reside with your fellow man– perhaps it lied here, with this creature who wears the mask of the beautiful sort of prince charming you've yearned for.

His shadow was the truth of his being, you innately know, and yet it gives you no fear. He squeezes your hand, a reassurance, while the other rises to cup your cheek in his palm, a tender rub of his thumb along the skin where he holds you. His gentle touch is ice cold, but it spreads warmth through your body regardless– because oh, how you've longed for the companionship of another.

"You are for me," he whispers as he inches closer, your noses on the precipice of touching, "and I, you. Do you believe in destiny?" He stares at you, observing you closely as he awaits your answer. You swallow, heart quickening as you hold his gaze.

"Yes," you utter softly; for in the depths of your soul, you feel it– the immutable pull that tells you this is where you must be. Beside him, in his arms, at his side for all eternity– and he will love you, this you know true; because even down to the very marrow of your bones, your body says it is so.

He has searched for you for an age; not someone like you, no. You. Only you. And his delight to finally have heard his beloved's call, and to answer– it is an unparalleled joy, one that he expects you to share. For even in your mortal life, your blood sings for him just the same as it did those many, long centuries ago.

You were promised to him then, as you are now– and he will have you, just as he did then. First in sleep, as you are now, but someday soon he will find you in the physical world once more. He will hold you in his arms, your reunion as joyous as it is profane. Rejoice, as you join him back to your true home; the castle, your castle, where every moment was spent in unholy exuberance.

"Do you remember?" he asks, voice honey-sweet, "remember how we once were?"

You do not, not really– your mind has no recollection of the man before you. But your soul remembers, has carried the weight of centuries of love and longing with it all this time, waiting for the moment all the feelings harbored within could finally be unearthed.

"I know you," you answer, truthfully; because while this is your first meeting in this life, you recognize him all the same. In the deepest recesses of your memory, he is there, gazing upon you with the same reverence he does now. He holds you close, kisses you tender, his touch along your skin slow and gentle, his name a whispered prayer on your lips.

Hyunjin.

His eyes light up when you call his name, a smile growing on his perfect lips. Hyunjin would know you anywhere, and there was never any doubt you were his love– but all the same, it is a great relief to hear his name fall from your lips again after so many years spent longing for it.

He kisses you then, doing his utmost to relay the depths of his passion, while also holding the carnality he feels for you at bay– the last thing he wishes to do is overwhelm you with his appetite too soon. You are his affliction, his every desire, he must have you; and he can only pray that you will not deny him, or yourself, the pleasure– but only when the time is right.

"You will be mine once more," he says; a statement, not a question, between kisses to your lips, "as I am eternally yours." Your nerves tingle, blood alight as you return his affections, meeting his lips with urgency.

"I will have you," he continues, almost breathless as his lips begin to trail down your neck, "Will you swear it? That again, we are for no one but each other?" His breath tickles your skin, the points of two sharp teeth touching the sensitive pulse point. You shiver as his fangs linger there, closing your eyes as your heart thunders in your chest.

Hyunjin can not truly drink from you here, not in the confines of your dream, but his teeth against your neck serve as a reminder– that your blood is his greatest temptation. Should you promise yourself to him once more, he won't be able to resist you– as there is no taste sweeter than the blood of his beloved.

"I swear," you whisper your promise; for you will never fear him, nor can you deny the ecstasy that comes when he drinks from you. “ever-eternally, I am yours.” 

He is a beast of nightmares, a plague set upon the world, a ruinous omen of death, your immortal Vampyr; and you are safe in his hold. For he loves you and needs you too greatly to cause you any harm– an affection that contradicts his nature, but what a welcome contradiction it is. 

When you meet his gaze once more, his eyes burn with desire; it has been an agony, truly, to have such carnal desire for you all these centuries. And he could do naught with his desires but wait– wait for the day you would return to this world, and pray that your body and soul would still sing for him the way it once had. 

Hyunjin could have taken concubines, could’ve shared his castle with any great number of men or women– but they would not have been you. None can sate him the way you can, none can spread such flames of passion through his icy veins, none can make his eternally still heart feel as if it beats. It is not a vain promise when he says you are the only one for him– he means it with every fiber of his immortal being.

Your heart and soul, now free from their sepulchre, burn with need. He can hear the erratic thump of your heart, the blood rushing through your veins, can smell the arousal pooling between your legs. You desire him, just as he desires you– and he decides then that the time is right; there is no need to be cautious and careful with his affections.

You want him, and he wants you– and you will have each other, now and forever.

Hyunjin kisses you once more, hungry and urgent. He pulls your body flush to his own, holds you tightly as the wind rolls quickly past you. You realize, when you pull away to catch a breath, that your surroundings have shifted. Now in the center of the estate’s hedge maze, he lies you down on the stone bench beneath the grand statue of Mnemosyne.

You shiver against the cold stone, but he warms you with another kiss. His tongue meets your lips as his hand dances around the bottom of your chemise, lifting it up just enough to expose your lower half. His hands find your thighs, the points of his nails digging at the soft flesh as he squeezes you in his palms. 

It elicits a needy sound from deep within, one that you almost don’t recognize as your own. You feel the sharp points of his teeth with your tongue, while he spreads your legs apart to make more room for himself between them. He tugs your panties away with haste, and there is no shyness to be had when he separates to look at the way you glisten under the moonlight for him. 

He takes a moment to stare, licks his lips before looking back up to meet your eyes. You hold his gaze as he frees his cock from his trousers, swallowing as you look down for just a moment, and then back up to him. You are both eager, it is clear– and he will have neither of you wait any longer; you have both waited long enough. 

“I will have you,” Hyunjin repeats as he grabs your hips, lifting your bottom up from the stone bench and aligning you with himself. His thighs support you, while his feet stay firmly planted on the grass and stone below. You wrap your legs around his waist, and he removes one of his hands from your hips, using it to find leverage on the stone as he leans over you. 

You can feel his cock pulsing against you, excitement and anticipation building exponentially in your gut. “Mine again,” he whispers as he captures your lips in another kiss, “You are mine, my love.” 

He presses inside you as slowly as he can manage to, and you gasp, hands reaching out to cling to his arms. Thick and full, you let out a shuddering moan when his cock is sheathed fully inside your wet heat. He moans with you, the centuries of building need finally melting into the pure bliss he’d been longing for. 

But he refuses to rush– his thrusts are slow and fluid, precise and calculated, searching for the spot he knows will bring you utmost euphoria. You let out a high-pitched moan, followed by a curse, when he succeeds; and he smiles before he grits his teeth, determined to bring you to the heights of pleasure.

“Hyunjin, oh, please–” you whimper, nails digging into the fabric of his sleeves as he picks up his pace. He wanted to drag it out longer, truly, he did; but the mind is a powerful thing, and even whilst in a dream, the pleasure that you both feel is entirely real. 

And how much longer can one who has held centuries of lust and yearning hold back? Especially when the object of his every desire is moaning and begging for him so sweetly?

He could never resist you– not then, and especially not now. And long has he craved to hear his name spill from your lips like this again; so much so that the sound of it sends him into a frenzy. 

“Again,” he utters, equal parts desperate plea and urgent demand, “call to me, say my name.” You oblige easily, his name falling from your lips in a tantalizing mantra; and you feel his cock throb violently with each salacious whimper, his every thrust laced with desire and urgency.

He releases his grip on your hip, moving his hand to your center and pressing his thumb on your clit. Your breath catches, eyes rolling back as he rubs your clit in steady, practiced circles.

“Cum for me, my love,” Hyunjin urges; he is on the precipice of release himself, and he needs you to fall apart with him– it is the only way he can truly be satisfied. Your thighs tremble, whimpers broken by harsh breaths; and you let go of his arms, reach up to his face and pull him down into a desperate, needy kiss. 

He moans, and if his flesh were mortal, he is sure that goosebumps would’ve risen over every inch of his body. His thrusts lose their fluidity, becoming quick and choppy as he chases the high your body promises him. You clench tighter, toes curling and body quivering as you finally cum, your every moan of pleasure captured by his lips. 

His hips still as his own high takes him, his cock fully pressed inside, his cum spurting in long, sticky spurts. Your kisses are breathless, impassioned, but no longer urgent– they are soft promises of love, of eternity together in bliss.

You smile at him when he pulls away, and he looks at you just as tenderly as he had before, stroking your cheek and indulging in the heat it offers his thumb. You’ve never felt so relaxed, happy and at peace– but just then, you feel a sudden jolt.

It is a sign that your consciousness is returning to reality, and you will soon find yourself back in your bed, with the morning light shining on you from your balcony. Hyunjin, an invader in your mind, feels himself being pushed out– for he can not stay by your side beyond the bounds of your dream just yet. 

There is fear and uncertainty that peaks within you as you fight to stay asleep just a moment longer– but he is quick to calm you, kissing you one last time before you the sun’s rays shine down on you.

“I will find you again in the waking world, my heart,” he says, squeezing your hand in his before he starts to fade once more into shadow, “this, I promise.”

You rise with a start, blinking rapidly and lingering, unshed tears falling from your eyes as you raise your hand to your heart. Just as expected, it is morning now– the late spring sun is bright and warm, and birds chirp in delight as they welcome the dawn of a new day.

You frown, feeling the erratic thumb of your heart beneath your fingertips as the melancholy claws its way back around you, reminding you that it has not left. Your inner thighs are sticky and wet, you realize a short moment later, and for the first time, you blush.

And then you giggle– and the melancholy, though ever present, now has a weaker grasp. You wonder, as you rise from the bed and prepare for your day, how long it will take for Hyunjin to find you. Days, weeks, months? 

You hope it is soon– but if it is not, you know what you will do. Every night, when you blow out the candles and fall asleep, you will call to him. You’ll invite him back into your mind, greet him with a soft kiss, and revel in his tender touch.

You will make love, you will smile, and you will talk of the future with greater enthusiasm than you have ever known– for he is your destiny, your truest love, your one and only immortal Vampyr. Ever-eternally.

[rowdyluv]

Believe in Me — jh86

summary: in which the summer following Jack’s rookie year is coming to an end. Not only did his rookie year come with being shafted by the league as the biggest bust, but he managed to get painted as the biggest (and newest) playboy of the league. His personal management team, the team’s management, and PR step in to clear this all up, but it takes work from Jack.

warnings/points of importance: use of y/n, fem!reader x jack, use of nicknames for female character and for Jack, fake dating trope, oblivious pining trope(?), childhood friends, minor usage of foul language, creation of side original characters for plot, time jumps, memories inserted - tumblr’s intention and italics used to notate, inner thoughts marked with ‘..’ and italicized if they occur

word count: 4.32

notes: any names used for original characters that relate to someone’s name or closely relate to a person’s name is purely by happenstance. The names were rolled by random from a generator where I inserted random first and last names.

© property of quinnylouhughesx43 ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

Y/n sat cross-legged on the worn wooden planks of the back porch swing, her eyes following the lazy dance of the sunset as it descended behind the distant tree line. Her childhood home had changed so little over the years, the same comforting embrace of familiarity wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a chilly evening. The porch swing squeaked in a soothing rhythm as both her and Jack slowly swung, a nostalgic tune that had serenaded countless summer nights spent sharing secrets and laughter with Jack. The only other kid who had been in her grade when she moved in, well really one of the only other neighborhood children. The other two children in the neighborhood were his brothers. All three of which had become as much a part of her life as the very foundation of the house she grew up in.

She had spent all day out with his family by the pool, her mother insisted he come to their house for dinner though. Nothing to offer course for their life, well a year ago it wouldn’t have been.

"Do you want to talk about your new headline?" Y/n tried to hold back the hint of amusement in her tone but failed miserably. Jack's rookie season had just come to an end before the beginning of summer. In just a few months he had gone from the talk of the league as the number one draft pick to talk of the league as a "bust."

He was nothing close to a bust. It was just how the year fell.

Jack leaned back in the swing, the sun's final strokes of light for the day painting his cheekbones. He sighed; a heavy exhale filled with the weight of the rumors that had been following him like a dark shadow. "It's just how it's going to be now. You know how it is with the media. They're desperate to find a new angle to keep me going." There were a few moments of silence shared between them before he found the words to continue. "First, it's all about my game, how I'm not scoring enough or I'm not this hotshot star that every analyst built me up to be. Season ends and it's about my supposed love life." His voice was a mix of annoyance and defeat. He was used to being the center of attention, truthfully he strived to be in the center of attention. He just wasn't used to it always being negative attention.

"To be it all, I have this video chat meeting with public relations, franchise management, and my management team about some idea they have come up with to help bring attention away from everything." Jack groaned. "We have three days left of the summer before we drive back to Jersey, I don't want to spend one of them in meetings."

Y/n nodded sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on his forearm and leaning herself over on him. "It's okay, bubs. Maybe it's nothing too serious." But she could tell from the furrow in his brow, the way his jaw clenched and the tension in his voice that he was already aware of what they had come up with. Or at least he had an idea. She didn't dare pry, they may be best friends, but Jack was clearly not ready to share his thoughts. "And... If it is serious I will be in Jersey this season to help you through it."

Jack gave her a grateful smile before standing up from the porch swing, stretching his arms out wide. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't worry about it tonight." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, a gesture that was as commonplace as breathing between the two of them. "Thanks for the pep talk, toots." He said, using the childhood nickname that never failed to make her smile despite the circumstances. "I should head back down the street to my parent's place. It's getting late."

As he turned to leave, the rising moon cast a cool glow over the yard, highlighting the tall blades of grass that danced with the intermittent breeze. Y/n watched him go, her mind racing with the implications of what might happen at that during his meeting tomorrow. Would they really suggest something so ridiculous? And if they did, how would Jack handle it?

Jack's footsteps grew fainter until they were swallowed by the night. The house, once alive with the echoes of their laughter, now felt eerily quiet. Y/n remained seated out on the swing, her thoughts spiraling into a whirlwind of doubt and concern. She knew Jack was strong, capable of taking on any challenge thrown his way, but the thought of him being manipulated into some scheme to save the face of the Devils franchise made her sick. Then she thought, what if they didn't call a meeting to manipulate him into anything? What if it's simply to offer suggestions on what he can do differently going forward?

Y/n eventually shut that portion of her brain off and headed inside herself. A long hot shower and her bed was calling her name.

The next day Jack sat in his father's home office, the room smelling faintly of cologne and leather, waiting for the others to join the video call. The space was a testament to his father's success, filled with trophies and framed newspaper articles from his own days as a star player and coach. It was both inspiring and daunting, a constant reminder of the legacy he and his brothers were trying to live up to. The computer screen flickered to life, displaying a Zoom call with a row of faces, some familiar, some not. His management team, PR reps, and a couple of team officials stared back at him, all expectant and poised.

Jack leaned back in the chair, his casual attire feeling woefully inadequate among the suits and professional backgrounds of his callers. He had taken his mother's advice and dressed comfortably, but now he wished he had at least put on a button-up shirt. He glanced down at his New Jersey Devils t-shirt, the logo stretched slightly across his chest. It was a fan favorite, one that had been thrown at him in excitement by a young fan at a game. It felt like a piece of armor, a symbol of his pride and commitment to the team, but today it just made him feel like he was the kid, and he was playing dress-up in his dad's old gear.

The meeting began with a round of forced smiles and awkward greetings. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Y/n's words from the night before echoed in his mind, a comforting whisper amidst the storm of uncertainty. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for whoever their absurd suggestion be his girlfriend when they had conjured up the fake relationship idea to "fix" his image.

"Jack, before we start, do you remember the guidelines I told you for this relationship or should we go over them again with everyone here?" The voice was cold and calculated, belonging to one of the stern-faced PR reps. Her eyes bore into him through the screen, demanding his full attention.

Jack's stomach lurched. He had hoped they would just come right out with what was new, news. "I think everyone is aware of what we're trying to achieve here, but please go ahead," he said, trying to keep the sarcasm at bay.

The stern-faced public relations rep, Ms. Castellanos, nodded curtly. "Good. So, the first guideline is that you two must be seen together at least three times a week. This includes public appearances such as dates, her being seen attending your games, and even casual outings like grocery shopping or walking the dog. That is if you or her have one."

Jack's eyes widened slightly, glancing down at his half empty coffee mug. He didn't have a dog, but he still didn't know who this girl they paired him up with was. Plus, he didn't know if Y/n had picked up any new hobbies involving pets in her last year of college. It was never mentioned during their weekly calls or on visits. It would be important to know that since she’s going to be living with him.

"Jack, are you listening?" The voice brought him back to the present, the sternness of Ms. Castellanos' tone was unmistakable.

Jack swallowed down the anxiety that was bubbling up inside him and nodded in acknowledgement.

Ms. Castellanos continued, "Guideline two, and perhaps the most important one, is that the relationship must appear genuine. You must exhibit believable public affection and body language. This means holding hands, occasional kisses on the cheek, maybe a few on the lips if the situation calls for it. As for body language," the stone-cold lady stopped speaking, watching Jack carefully once more. "You're both young, attractive, and in the public eye. If you lean into each other, have your arms around each other's waist, or even occasionally rest your head on her shoulder, it'll look natural and convincing. The media will eat it up, and your image will be transformed from a lonely heartthrob to a lovestruck boyfriend in no time."

Jack felt his cheeks flush slightly, the thought of faking intimacy with someone he'd never met before was nerve-wracking, to say the least. He took another sip of his now lukewarm coffee, trying to imagine how awkward the first kiss would be. He had never been one for faking emotions, especially something as intimate as love.

Ms. Castellanos continued, her voice unforgiving. "Guideline four is critical. The relationship must end with your girlfriend, and I stress this, must be the one to initiate the breakup. It should be done publicly and dramatically enough to make headlines, but not so much that it causes a scandal." She paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to sink in. "You cannot under any circumstances leave her. If it looks like you're the one who ended things, it'll only add fuel to the fire of your reputation. You need to be seen as the heartbroken party, the victim of a fickle heart. It'll humanize you, make you more relatable to the fans."

Jack felt his jaw clench at the coldness of the plan. He had agreed to a fake relationship to get the media off his back, but this was starting to feel like a script for a reality TV show gone wrong. "And what happens if we... I mean, if she gets tired of the whole thing?" He stumbled over his words, trying to maintain some semblance of respect for the stranger he was about to be romantically linked with.

"Ah, that's where guideline five comes into play," said Ms. Castellanos, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of her own cleverness. "We've prepared a non-disclosure agreement that she will be signing before the relationship begins. It's quite comprehensive and includes clauses for breaking it off in a controlled manner. She'll understand her role in this, Jack."

Jack's grip tightened around his coffee mug, the cheap porcelain feeling fragile under his thumb. "But who is she?" he repeated, his voice a little louder, a hint of frustration creeping in.

Ms. Castellanos' smile didn't waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Her name is Elena Petrov," she said smoothly. "A local influencer with a clean reputation. She's been briefed on the situation and has agreed to help. She's a fan of the team and understands the importance of this for your career."

"No." Jack huffed out. gaining the attention of everyone on the call. Just the same as Jack, everyone else barely stayed tuned into her annoying voice. "She is the reason I am in this shit hole. Her friend is the last girl I was with. Elena took all the pictures. Maggie? A little help here." Jack pleaded with the IT media girl that for some miraculous reason was sitting in on the call.

"Oh. Uhm, yes. It took me days to get the pictures she put up taken down. And Mr. Hughes, we were able to prove they were edited after looking closer at them," Maggie spoke up, her voice shaky, probably from fear of interrupting the woman that could potentially ruin their lives with a tweet.

Ms. Castellanos' eyes darted from Jack to Maggie and back again, her displeasure clear. "Jack, this is non-negotiable. This is what's best for your career right now. You need to be seen as more than just a party boy. The sooner you start this relationship with Elena, the sooner we can start repairing your image," she said, her voice like a whip cracking through the tension in the room.

Jack's manager, Mr. Taylor, cleared his throat before speaking up, his tone measured and calm. "Perhaps there's another option we haven't considered. What about Y/n?" he suggested, glancing at Jack, who looked up at him, hope flickering in his eyes.

Ms. Castellanos raised an eyebrow. "Your childhood friend?" She sounded skeptical, but the video stream grew quiet, all eyes on Jack.

Jack nodded, feeling the weight of the decision he was about to make. "Yeah, Y/n. We've been best friends since middle school. Everyone already thinks we're together. It'll be believable, and she's... she's not in the spotlight like Elena is. It'll keep things more low-key." He swallowed, hoping he wasn't about to ruin their friendship.

Ms. Castellanos leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. "Very well, Jack. We'll consider it. But you need to talk to her and make sure she's on board with this. The last thing we need is for her to spill the beans and ruin the whole charade."

Jack nodded, his heart racing. He knew Y/n would do anything for him but asking her to be his fake girlfriend was a big ask. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he was about to have. After the call ended, he let out a guttural groan due to frustration. He needed to go shoot some basketball or pucks before he talked Y/n, but he didn't have that time to waste. Instead of blowing off some of his stress he slipped on some shoes, kissed his momma goodbye, and headed out to the house he has visited time and time again.

The warm afternoon air was a major contrast to the coldness of the conversation he had just had. The streetlights flickered to life as Jack approached Y/n's house, the familiar path to her door as comforting as ever. He stopped in front of the door, the color of her door had changed since last summer, but the memories that lie behind it remained the same.

Jack took a deep breath before raising his hand to knock, the sound echoing through his head. Only thing on his mind was the conversation they were about to have. Jack flinched as he realized how hard and urgent he had beat on her mother’s front door. His heart thudded against his chest, partially with the anticipation of her reaction to the proposal and because of how quickly he had walked down the block. Jack took a deep breath in an urgent need to calm himself and appear as normal as possible before he was face to face with her.

Before he could finish his internal mantra of calming himself, the front door swung open in a rush. He was slightly hoping it would somehow be one of her relatives, but there she was, looking up at him with her soft, hopeful eyes. Her hair messily tossed into a messy bun atop her head and a sprinkle of fresh freckles danced across her nose from spending the day in the sun with his family yesterday. She was wearing the momentous hoodie that he had gifted her before leaving last summer. A hoodie that held a lot in its threads for the two of them. For her, it now held a lot of silent screams and wiped away tears from the last year, but it still held their joint memories.

‘It originally had become Jack’s superstitious hoodie for a while. The lucky hoodie he would wear all the way up to when he would change for warm ups, then she would wear it. This superstition developed during the years of world juniors. The year he brought home the Gold, the superstition shifted. Jack had a “girlfriend” that entire season and she wasn’t fond of the idea of Jack and Y/n swapping clothes like they did. The games with the development program were when she noticed this happening. She confronted Y/n about having a useless crush on her boyfriend and she would be taking over wearing his hoodie from then on. Jack didn’t take lightly to it, that was his best friend, his biggest non-family supporter. So, he decided y/n would wear the hoodie the entire time, from the time they all got dressed for the day to after the game. Now, it’s hers entirely, his decision since he couldn’t be here for her and live out his dream. He wanted her to have a piece of him, but if be a piece of them. Once again, it has become her comfort item as it has been back then.’

She fiddled with the stretched out sleeves hanging over left hand anxiously as her right hand was still grasping the door knob.

"How was your meeting?" The words fell from her lips so fast she hadn't taken a moment to invite him inside. Y/n had sat out on the porch swing all morning waiting to hear from him. Seeing him now ignited her anxiety and her need to know.

Jack let out a simple laugh at her eagerness to know. He softly touched her side, giving a slight nudge as if to signal her to walk backwards into the house.

The coolness of the air conditioning kissing his skin. "It was... interesting," he said, his voice a mix of relief and dread.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. She walked a few steps backwards with his guidance to allow him in, the old floorboards creaking under their weight. "Interesting as in good or interesting bad?"

Jack shrugged, his smile wavering as he let go of her and made his way into the living room. The same room where they had spent hours playing video games, watching movies, doing homework.

—Could he ask her to do this? What if it blows up in their faces and ruins everything. What if he ruins her? He’d never be able to live with himself for hurting her.

The couch looked inviting, but he knew better than to sit down without spilling his guts. "Well, it’s one of those ‘depends on how you take it’ interesting type situations..." he trailed off, his eyes wandering around the room.

Y/n looked at him, her eyebrows rising in a questioning manner. Her eyes were filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. She could read the hesitancy written all across him. Starting with wanting to open up about his meeting. Which is something he's never had an issue with, at least with her, to not wanting to sit down. Almost as if, if he got too comfortable he would tell too much.

Taking a hold of his hand, rubbing her thumb over his palm she leaned her head on his upper arm. A common gesture between them. “Jackers?” She whispered so softly, he nearly missed it. He hummed in response coming out from where he drifted off too. She took a hold of his hand and softly pulled him down to take a seat on the couch with her.

“Jackers, just tell me. Did they come up with something ridiculous?"

Jack let out a small laugh , the sound hollow and forced. "Ridiculous doesn't even begin to cover it," he whined, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "They want me to start a fake relationship with someone who I know is not going to help me. Then my manager suggested someone who would be great and I was for it because we already know each other but.." He took a deep breath, bracing himself for her reaction.

Y/n let go of his hand, in an unnatural reaction as they have been platonically physical since high school, "A fake relationship?" she echoed that one snippet. “With.. With who? Since I’ll be living with you I should be prepared for a new girl even if she is a fake girlfriend.”

Jack took a deep breath and looked up at her, his eyes filled with a desperation she had never seen before. "Toots, I really don't know what to do about this. PR decided on Elena Petrov. B—”

“You mean the friend of the bitch who started this mess? No I’m sorry the two who started this mess? You’re going to pounce around all lovey with the girl who put you here?!” Y/n’s chest heaved up and down heavily. She watched Jack’s face twist in annoyance then soften.

“If you had let me finish… I flat out said no. I will not and am not going to do this plan with her. When I told everyone on the call right then that I wouldn’t, my manager suggested someone else. But I don’t know if they’ll do it. They seem pretty disappointed in me…” Jack kept his voice even and didn’t raise it. He knew how you felt about being yelled at and he couldn’t be the one to cause a panic attack because he got a little upset.

“Well, who did they suggest? Maybe I can help. As long as it’s not Elena..”

“They suggested you. They asked me if I thought you would do it or if I would like you to do it with me. But if you're upset or disappointed, I'll tell them no right now," Jack explained, his voice a low rumble of uncertainty. He started fishing his phone out of his pocket in case he had to call his manager.

Y/n felt her throat tighten as a knot formed, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She had always been there for Jack, and he for her, but this was something entirely different. This was a line they hadn’t truly crossed, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to pretend to cross it again. "Jack, I..." she murmured looking down at her hands in her lap, her voice trembling slightly. "Yes, I'll do it."

Jack's head snapped to look at her, his eyes failing to meet hers as she’s staring down, though a spark of hope igniting within him still. "You will?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and relief.

Y/n nodded, her throat tight with unspoken emotions. "Yeah, I'll do it," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "For you, I'll do it."

Jack's shoulders slumped with relief. He reached out to lift her head hesitantly so that he could meet her eyes with his. His eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. "You don't have to if you don't want to, management can figure it out.”

Y/n forced a smile and nodding her head yes, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and dread. The thrill of being able to go and do things with Jack was nice, but the dread of being scrutinized by females she didn’t know was already gnawing at her. "Besides, it's only for a couple of months, right?"

Jack's smile didn't part to show his teeth, it stayed tight lipped, evident he wasn't as enthused as his tone of voice was letting on. "Yup! Just for a couple of months."

"Okay, we can totally pull this off. It will be like playing pretend, remember?" She nudged him with her elbow, trying to lighten the mood with a memory from their childhood. More so for herself than him.

"You mean like when we got married under that old oak tree at my grandparents' house in the summer between sixth and seventh grade?" Jack nudged her back.

"Yup when you only agreed to get pretend married so you could get your first kiss."

She let a little giggle slip out as she reminisced on the memory of her and Jack as kids under the oak tree.

A young Jack with his signature smirk standing at the ‘altar’ with the “preacher Luke”. Jack didn’t wait for Luke to do his part of the pretend wedding he skipped straight to the kiss. ‘Couldn’t wait tootsie I was just wanting my 1st’

"If I remember correctly that was your first kiss too, and you asked for another one because of the ‘belly flies’." Jack teased her enjoying seeing her cheeky smile and blush creeping up on to her cheeks.

Y/n’s laughter echoed loudly through the room. "Jack Hughes, you are such a jerk!" She said playfully, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Jack laughed echoing her laughter. "So, do we have an agreement? You'll be okay with fake dating me, even though we never got fake divorced?"

Y/n shook her head yes once again, while rolling her eyes at the boy next to her. “Yes, Jackers. Even though you never fake divorced me, I will fake date you.”

If she only knew that Jack was silently and brutally beating himself up for this. They were in for a roller coaster of chaos and changes.

Now that he had secured one portion of the agreement, he has footwork left in figuring out how to get out of the hoops and twists. Like how to get out of that very public break up after a few months into dating. He wasn’t going to make her out to be some bitch she’s not.

And if Jack has it his way, they won’t be breaking up and it won’t be a “fake” relationship for long either.

Because Jack Hughes is hopelessly in love with his best friend. If he has any luck, besides puck luck, she loves him too.

notes 2.0: hello! welcome to my newest mini series, believe in me i hope you enjoyed the first part of the series. i am always open to kindly put creative criticism. i truly appreciate all of the continued support by reading, liking, & reblogging! thank you thank you!

[jerryandersonsdaughterinlaw]

my personal abby headcanons ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

soft!abby, wholesome!abby, character analysis 𑁤

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

⟢ Her favorite color is pretty obviously green, but not just any shade. It would be that deep, lush forest green. The kind that looks almost velvety when the light hits it right. A muted, natural tone, reminiscent of forest foliage or moss after it rains, or the way pine trees look at dusk. Earthy, grounded, alive. It fits her: strong and calm, but also quietly vibrant. It's the color of resilience and growth, things she's learned to nurture in herself. Maybe it reminds her of early morning hikes alone, where the world is still and her mind finally quiets. Or of those summer days when she'd sit outside with a book, before her dad dragged her along on another adventure. It’s nostalgic and rooted in something meaningful.

⟢ Her love language is acts of service, she loves taking care of her partner. She won't say "I love you" outright, and grand romantic gestures aren't her style, but if she cares about you, you'll know by the things she does. She'll fix the door that's been sticking in your apartment without saying a word, leave your favorite snack where you'll find it after a long day, or show up unasked when she knows you're hurting. Her affection is practical, grounded. Rooted in effort and presence rather than sentimentality. She's the type to remember small details you thought she forgot and act on them in meaningful, quiet ways. If she really trusts you, she'll share a part of herself she usually keeps hidden- an old story, a vulnerable thought, softness in her voice. Abby's the kind of person who'll notice you're out of shampoo and restock it without saying a word. She expresses love through actions: cleaning your glasses, packing your lunch, warming up the car on cold mornings. She doesn't make a big deal out of it-it's just who she is.

⟢ I think she would appreciate/prefer curvier women. She’s not afraid of a fuller figure. That preference makes perfect sense for Abby, her physical strength paired with emotional gentleness, and her attraction to contrast and depth. There's something very grounded and emotionally moving about the idea that Abby, with her strong, capable presence and quiet nature, would be drawn to someone with a softer, curvier frame. It adds to that "protector" dynamic she subtly embodies, in a way that balances her. A kind of mutual softening. She would probably admire her partner’s body in the same way she admires a good novel — quiet admiration. Noticing how your body curves when you stretch, the softness in your arms when they're wrapped around her, the strength in your thighs, how soft your stomach is when they're lying in bed. There's something about the combination of a curvier build and emotional openness that would both ground and unravel Abby, like it gives her permission to relax, to be vulnerable, to feel. And maybe she has this quiet pride about it, too. Abby strikes me as someone who finds beauty in the realness of people. Lived-in bodies, strength in softness, comfort in closeness. She loves that your body feels like warmth, like home - and she would never want you to feel anything less than wanted in it.

⟢ Motherhood was never something Abby imagined. Not in the traditional sense. Pregnancy, baby showers, the domesticity of it all—it never felt like her. But caring? Protecting? That's in her bones. She'd be the first to kneel down and fix a kid's scraped knee or teach them how to throw a punch. She doesn't talk about the future often, doesn't dare picture it too vividly-but sometimes, when the world feels quiet, she wonders if she could build something safe. Something like home. Abby never really pictured herself as a mom-not because she doesn't care, but because she never saw a version of it that looked like her. Growing up, “motherhood" felt tied to things she couldn't relate to. Domestic softness, conventional femininity, the assumption that women were supposed to want it. And the idea of pregnancy? That's a hard no. The physical vulnerability, the loss of control-it's not something she wants for her body. But that doesn't mean she's closed off to caregiving. She already lives it in quiet ways. She makes sure her friends get home safe. She bandages cuts without thinking. She checks in when someone's been too quiet, making sure that they eat enough. She's protective, even if she doesn't call it that. “I can barely take care of myself." But if pressed, she'd admit she's not against the idea of raising someone, just unsure if that life fits her. She'd worry she wouldn't be enough. Or worse, that she'd mess them up. She's great with kids but insists she isn't, she’ll deny it every time. Children gravitate toward her calm, steady energy, and she has a soft spot for them (especially the shy ones).

⟢ Abby would naturally switch between dominant and submissive roles depending on the moment. Intimacy isn't about dominance in the traditional sense-it's about trust, safety, and connection. Abby might appear more dominant because of her physicality and presence, but emotionally, she's surprisingly tender and receptive. Sometimes Abby will lead-grounded, steady, protective-and other times, she'll melt under her partner’s touch, especially when initiated with quiet intention. It's fluid, balanced, intuitive.

⟢ She likes to leave love letters and sweet little notes. Words aren't her first language, not when it comes to vulnerability, but when she writes them down, they come out softer, more honest. Writing gives her the space to say what she means without the pressure of getting it perfect on the spot. She can think it through, let the emotions settle, then put them into something real and lasting. It's not constant, Abby won’t shower you with them, but when they come, they feel earned, like a piece of her heart is being offered in this quiet, precious way. She probably tucks them into books or leaves them around your room. A crumpled napkin in your backpack with a half-written poem. A sticky note that says "Drink some water. I mean it." followed by a doodle of a cat face. A slip of paper tucked into your notebook that says "You looked pretty when you laughed today. I didn't know where to put that, so here it is."

⟢ Abby knows the library shelves by memory. The spine worn classics, the quiet fiction no one checks out anymore. She has a dog eared notebook tucked into her backpack where she keeps a running list of titles she wants to find next. Independent bookstores are her soft spot-she lingers in them like they're sanctuaries, trailing her fingers along book spines like they might whisper something to her. She reads like it's the only way she knows how to breathe.

⟢ If you asked her sexuality, she'd shrug. "I like who I like." That's it. No big declarations, no need for clarity. She's comfortable in her skin, comfortable not being boxed in. She's had relationships with men and women, but women are the ones who linger in her memory. The softness, the strength, the complexity. She doesn't overthink it. She just follows what feels right.

⟢ She would gladly read to her partner until they fall asleep. She has a low, steady voice that makes even the most complex writing sound gentle. She'll read aloud while her partner lays curled up against her side, half-listening, half-dozing. Sometimes it's poetry, sometimes it's a dense classic she's re-reading. She never comments when you doze off mid-sentence, she just marks the page and keeps going.

⟢ Abby has no shame when it comes to food. You blink, and half your sandwich is gone. She'll look at you mid-bite and ask, "You were done, right?" She doesn't waste anything, doesn't get weird about sharing and will eat off your plate if you let her. In fact, sharing food is her version of casual intimacy. She doesn't say "I like you" outright, but she'll finish your fries like it's a form of trust. She's the type to finish everyone else's scraps like some human trash can. Can't finish your food? Fork it over. She's not picky and takes all the extra protein she can get. It's a leftover habit from growing up around tight resources-and now, it's just her way.

⟢ I envision abby as being one of those people who's always naturally warm, human furnace vibes, great for snuggling. She’s the kind of person you instinctively lean into on cold mornings, Your hands like icicles until they’re pressed against Abby's back or sliding cold toes under her leg. Abby would groan dramatically, pretending to protest. "You're trying to kill me" — but secretly loves it. She'll complain about it every time, but she always adjusts to make room, letting you burrow into her side like it's the most natural thing in the world. She gets hot easily at night- despite this, somehow she still ends up hogging the blanket every time (canon, see post boat scene). She sleeps sprawled out and somehow tangled in all the bedding. You would wake up practically clinging to the edge of the sheet while Abby's burritoed in the rest of it, looking entirely unbothered and warm as hell. I would tease her about it every time. "You're such a thief." Abby, eyes still closed, grumbling, "No l'm not." "You're literally wrapped in three layers." "Coincidence."

⟢ She gives the best hugs. Not the polite kind. The real kind-the ones that feel like you're being held together. Strong arms, slow breath, maybe even a hand that cups the back of your head if you're really upset. She doesn't hug often, but when she does, it's wholehearted. No half measures. People don't forget them.

⟢ Her and Lev take care of stray cats on Catalina Island in their free time. She's got a soft spot for the ones who don't trust easily. The scarred-up tom that won't come close, the tiny one that hides behind the dumpsters. She leaves food out, builds little shelters when it gets cold, takes the injured ones to the infirmary when no one's looking. The other fireflies joke she and lev have a secret army of alley cats. She pretends to be annoyed, but they’ve named every single one.

⟢ Her dad used to braid her hair when she was younger, now she does it for practicality but also because it reminds her of him. The braid started as a habit. Tight and utilitarian, keeps her hair out of her face when she's working out or running drills. But on some days, the ritual of it feels heavier. She remembers his hands, clumsy but gentle, how he used to say, "Hold still, kiddo, I'm almost done." She doesn't talk about him much, but the braid says everything. It's grief and comfort, muscle memory and love.

⟢ Just for funsies, I think her birthday is in January and she has a: - Capricorn Sun: Abby's grounded, serious, and resilient core. She's hardworking, responsible, and reliable, she probably feels safest when she's doing something useful or taking care of someone else. She values loyalty deeply and is slow to trust but steadfast once she does. Her practicality and stoicism come from here. - Aries Moon: Her inner world is impulsive, intense, and fiercely emotional. She likely feels things very strongly but doesn't always have the tools to express it, leading to her occasional emotional shutdowns or sudden reactions (like anger when scared). This is where her brave, protective nature shines, she'd throw herself into danger without a second thought for someone she loves. It also contributes to her dry, blunt humor. - Cancer Venus: Soft, nurturing, tender. She shows love by taking care of you. Making sure you're fed, walking you home, giving you her jacket in the cold. But she's cautious and slow to open up, protective of her heart. Once in love, she's affectionate in small, meaningful ways. She craves emotional safety and might feel overwhelmed by intense vulnerability, but she's deeply loyal and incredibly gentle with the person she loves.

⟢ She’s terrible at taking compliments, always brushing them off with a scoff or a change of subject, like kindness directed at her is some kind of mistake. She never sees herself the way others do, she’s her own harshest critic, quick to downplay her strengths and dwell on her perceived flaws. But beneath the guarded exterior and the self doubt, there’s a quiet strength and depth to her that few ever get to see. She's also terrible at asking for help. She'll power through illness or injury until someone forces her to rest. When they scold her for not speaking up sooner, Abby just shrugs like, "It wasn't that bad."

⟢ There’s a wall around her, one she built over years of disappointment and betrayal. Getting close to her isn’t just about persistence. It’s about proving, time and time again, that you’re not like the rest. She watches everything, quietly, measuring your every word and action, waiting for the catch. But if you make it past the defenses and show her you’re genuine, patient, and unshakably loyal? She’ll fold you into her world like you’ve always belonged there. And once you’re in, she’s fiercely protective. She’d risk everything for you without a second thought, even if she never says it out loud.

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Ch. 111: Anya's Mama

So many things for such a little chapter, don't you think?

We saw baby Anya and we finally caught a glimpse of Anya's biological mother.

Something to notice is that they're both wearing hospital gowns, which makes me think they were in the lab and, because of that, we can solidify the theory about Anya being born there. It could be that her mom was pregnant when captured or that they experimented on her and she got pregnant while in that lab. A secret third option is that Anya's mom actually volunteered for the experiments (maybe she was a scientist herself or a family member coaxed her into doing it), although I find this unlikely due to her comment about the butterfly. Either way, I have a feeling we won't know for a very long time.

Mindreading or no mindreading?

Endo chose not to let us know about that explicitly. However, look at this panel:

I don't think Anya's mom is talking here. I think she's thinking this. Because of that, I do suspect Anya can read her mama's mind. She doesn't fully understand it but those words are inside her memory.

However, as you can see in the panel below, we don't see her classic mindreading sparkles. So, it' could also be that she saw her mom getting sad or nostalgic and she wanted to hug her. Kids are very perceptive of their parent's emotions.

If you ask me, I think she was born with that ability. Either her mom was also a telepath who was being studied during her pregnancy or she was experimented while pregnant and gained and passed her abilities to her daughter.

All this makes me consider that maybe Anya wasn't experimented on like many of us believed for a long time. Maybe those scientists were just studying her/observing her in order to understand and try to replicate her abilities. I'm really hoping Endo will go this route, it's less cruel. In any case, keeping someone so young as a case study is still wrong and I don't think Twilight and Yor will like this.

Anya's Mama

I'm talking about Yor, of course.

First of all, I think Endo summed up what motherhood is about in this panel:

It's not exactly that a mom can read their kid's mind, but it's something close. As a mom you get to know your child inside and out. When you take care of them, see them grow and love them with all your heart, you simply learn to "read every part of them."

That's how we know that Yor loves Anya and that she is her mom.

I don't know what happened to Anya's biological mom; she could be gone or still be alive. I'm sure we'll find out eventually. However, no matter what happens, I think Anya will always have that unconditional love from Yor.

There's a prevalent theme about motherhood in sxf: a mother as a safe place. Yor has mentioned it several times; she knows her job is to protect Anya and Anya feels safe when her mama is around (even Twilight notices this.)

I think the bond between them will get stronger as the story moves forward. Come on, it's pretty obvious Anya is Yor's baby, she's already head over heels and she decided she wanted to be a good mother since day 1. Also, a big theme in the story are bonds that are forged, and chosen family. In the story, blood ties sometimes are complicated (look at the Desmonds, for example.)

I'm not fluent in Japanese, but I am aware that Anya calls Yor and Twilight, Haha and Chichi, which is an English equivalent of "my mom and my dad", instead of just "mom and dad." In case you are wondering, Anya did call her biological mom, the right way: "mama."

At some point in the story, I think we will see Anya call Yor and Twilight, mama and papa the right way. I suspect this will be the moment when they will realize they're no longer a pretend family, but a real one. And it'll be simply beautiful 💖

A Few Questions

Whenever we learn something about one of the Forger's past, we are usually left with even more questions like:

Where's Anya's mom now?: I think either she's still a prisoner somewhere or she's dead. And if she's alive, does she know Anya lives?

How did Anya escape? She was so little! She must have had help from someone.

Who is Anya's dad? Maybe a scientist? A prisoner of war? Or was artificial insemination possible back then?

Is Anya her real name? I'm wondering if her mom called her differently. Here are some theories about her name. I suspect this will be important and I wouldn't be surprised if Anya is not her real name, almost as a foil of Twilight's name and story.

And also, there's a gap between that scene/memory and when Anya gets adopted by Twilight. We know thanks to Franky that in the year before Twilight adopted her, she was previously adopted by four different families, however, there's still a chunk of time missing.

I estimate she's probably 2 years old in that memory, she was 4 when she was adopted by those other families, and 5 years old when Twilight became her dad. That leaves 2 full years blank. Where was she during that time?

[koolades-world]

Hello! I hope your having a great day! I saw that requests are open briefly so I have one:

Reactions to Luke calling MC "Mom" and MC just rolling with it before they both realize what he said

Like MC helps him with something and Luke says something like "Thanks Mom!" And MC's like "Sure thing, Sweetie" before they're both like 0_0

hi!!!!! this is soooo cute omg! i love how your requests have all been luke centric. love that little guy, he deserves more attention

was unsure what characters you wanted done, so i decided to do the brothers. since it's you, if you'd like the other characters done too, just leave a comment or send a message letting me know, and i'll have it done by sunday :)

The brothers react to Luke calling Mc "Mom"

Lucifer

his heart isn’t made out of stone, so now, luke has a newer nickname bestowed to him by lucifer himself

“son”

it’s simple but it really gets to him. luke isn’t sure if chihuahua or son is worse

he tried getting lucifer back by calling him dad but it didn’t really work the way he wanted it to. it most definitely backfired on him and now he keeps accidentally saying it

Mammon

is now expecting luke to call him dad /hj lowkey mad that lucifer got the privilege first

mammon has always said he and luke have the same eyes... if he is your son, then he is now luke's father. he is ready to accept this position LOL

while you and luke are stewing in the awkwardness, of course he walks in and bluntly asks what happened

and that day marked his journey into fatherhood haha

Levi

he’s not very subtle about hiding his amusement

luke’s loud protesting only made him laugh harder

now when around luke he may or may not randomly burst out laughing because he remembered that moment

way to rub salt in the wound levi haha

Satan

he was there when it happened actually, because the three of you were doing homework together

he actually thought it was so cute, but tried to hide it because he knew luke would be embarrassed

he knew how he would feel if he accidentally called lucifer dad so he wouldn’t want to add insult to injury

luke is very grateful for how he responded :)

Asmo

he’s for sure giggling like a mad man about it

despite the fact that luke is bright red and you looked half overjoyed half sentimental, he snaps a photo for the memories

will look at it in two days and awe over it nostalgically like it happened years ago

seemingly, every time luke tries to delete this photo, it pops up in his life mysterious again. most recently, he found a printed out version at the bottom of his bowl of soup at dinner

Beel

he thinks it was really quite cute

to him, it’s so endearing that the two of you have such a close relationship. he values family more than anything else so he’s glad the two of you have a little found family

the devildom isn’t exactly welcoming after all

he doesn’t rub it in, but he holds that memory near and dear to his heart <3

Belphie

he is NEVER letting luke live this down

and I mean never

whenever he’s talking to luke about you, he’ll call you his mom instead of mc

“hey luke, your mom told me to bring this tupperware back to you from the cookies you sent over yesterday” “THAT WAS ONE TIME”

[yamujiburo]

Do you think you could info dump all that you know about Madame Boss and Mayomoto with drawings? I would love to know more about their dynamic and about young Giovanni with baby Jessie. Maybe Delia could ask Jessie about it in a comic? Would it be sad or nostalgic? Maybe both? Like a flashback or something would be cool! Anyway, love your art and everything that you do!! ❤️

I'm not sure I can get it out in just drawings (just because it's a lot) but I have quite a few I've already done if you wanna look through my tags~ I'll also explain a bit here with some of my old comics. Long post under the cut~

Canonically, Madame Boss is the founder of Team Rocket and Giovnanni's mother. Miyamoto was one of her elite agents and Jessie's mother. They're REALLY close as evidenced by how they talk to one another (ex. Madame Boss calling Miyamoto "Miyamoto chan", Miyamoto's informal way of speaking to Madame Boss despite her being her superior, their friendly banter, etc.). Madame Boss sends Miyamoto and two other Team Rocket members on a mission to find Mew, but she and the other members never return. Miyamoto's implied to still be alive, endlessly chasing Mew with Jessie as her north star and reason to keep going. Madame Boss passes away sometime between the radio drama and before the events of the first Pokémon Movie. You can listen to the whole drama here! Madame Boss and Miyamoto are primarily in the first part, but Miyamoto pops up at the end of each of the other parts at different periods of time.

This is more where my headcanons begin! Miyamoto, whose dub name I hc being (Calamity) Jane, joined Team Rocket mostly because of her not great circumstances. She works her way up the ladder quickly and impresses Madame Boss. They become close but at the time, Miyamoto was dating a charismatic performer/con man that MB, not so subtly, doesn't approve of. She was right to not approve as this man got Miyamoto pregnant but left her before he'd known.

Madame Boss, despite her penny pinching behavior (Team Rocket wasn't that big yet), does what she can to help out Miyamoto. They had to tread carefully though, they didn't want anyone thinking there was any sort of favoritism happening.

Jessie is born, and for a little while Miyamoto keeps her and raises her the best she can. On more short term missions she'd leave her with Madame Boss, who's not super fond of children, and would have her own son Giovanni watch her (or have another grunt in Team Rocket watch her). This wasn't sustainable, so Miyamoto quickly puts Jessie in foster care (the foster care part is canon). Miyamoto would still visit her daughter whenever she could.

Ultimately, Miyamoto was a very driven, one track minded woman. She would constantly go on missions and after discovering Mew, became obsessed. It was around this time Madame Boss was starting to catch feelings for Miyamoto. Miyamoto would play along but was not nearly as invested in their relationship is Madame Boss was. Not in a malicious or leading on sort of way, she just had a job she wanted to get done

When it was time for Miyamoto to go on the mission to actually find Mew, Madame Boss, while excited at the prospect of getting her hands on a legendary Pokémon and the money that came with that, began to worry in the days leading up to the mission and tried to get Miyamoto to stay. She offered to send a different team out. To her they were disposable, but Miyamoto wasn't. Miyamoto didn't take the offer, wanting the glory and money of finding Mew for herself (but also had a daughter she wanted to get back to and be able to provide for). She leaves and goes MIA

Madame Boss is brokenhearted and after several years of Miyamoto going missing, is not able to run Team Rocket, troubled by the immense amount of guilt and heartache, and Giovanni takes over. She remains in the organization, more so operating in the background. It was rare for agents to see her out and about. But years later she sees Jessie's joined Team Rocket as a trainee. She requests Viper and Giovanni keep an eye out for her. Viper doesn't know why but does as he's told. Giovanni understands, remembering Jessie as the little toddler he'd have to take care of many years ago as well as her mother Miyamoto, who he knew was very close to his mother.

Not too long after, Madame Boss passes away but Giovanni keeps his promise and continues to keep Jessie employed.

I don't think Jessie remembers much of her mom or anything from around this time. I don't think she even remembers her mom being in Team Rocket or Giovanni babysitting her. She just remembers her mother leaving and never coming back and holds some resentment, not knowing the context of why Miyamoto disappeared.

I've thought about doing a story where Miyamoto returns in my hanamusa au but I still gotta think it out more. It starts with Miyamoto stopping by Delia's restaurant and she and Delia talk, not knowing the little connection they have via Jessie.

[six-eyed-samurai]

🌸Life would be so much fun with these two psychos as your overprotective, fashion forward, freaky poser older brothers!

🌸I can think of a few words on how you'll turn out raised by these two: spoiled, coddled, well dressed, short sighted, manipulative, badass.

🌸The Haitanis were living by themselves as minors. Meals probably weren't fancy back then but all three of you would be playing hot potato with the best piece trying to give it to the other - or, well, Ran and Rindou ganging up to give it to you.

🌸Probably felt bad when you go to school (you're the only one still going) and all the girls have pretty things, new bags, non dog-eared textbooks, uniforms whose colours have faded a little. Ran tells you you're the best out of all of them, the smartest, the most beautiful, etc instead and Rindou counts their savings to get you a new pair of nice shoes.

🌸Speaking of school, Ran nearly cried the day you stopped needing to hold his hand all the way there, or so he claimed. You insist you can carry your own bag now and Rindou lectures you on the dangers of scoliosis all the way.

🌸I’m not sure about their grades academically but since they're older they still try and help you study. Well, Rindou does, because Ran has a bad habit of getting distracted and dragging you along. By distracted I mean napping.

🌸Ran loves doing your hair! When you were younger he’d be the one to brush and braid it, figuring out how to do whatever struck your fancy from magazines, secretly feeling nostalgic and sad when you outgrow pigtails and no longer match with him. Still though, you two divas are always making Rindou drive to the salon and pay for it all. You want to dye? Go for it! You want a perm? Whatever you want! Bleach?…uh, no, bad for your scalp :)

🌸Rindou and you gossip a lot - mostly about Ran and how you’re both tired of his stinky ass sleeping twenty four hours. Aside from that you think your brother’s got the best taste in music, even if you’ll never say it now, and Rindou takes pride in you idolizing him and his DJing skills. You don’t understand how someone so great at that hates going to karaoke so much but there we go. You’re very embarrassed when he catches you singing and records it.

🌸When they got into gang stuff and the whole ruling Roppongi thing they didn't have time anymore, but they tried to have either one of them fetch you from school no matter what. No, don't walk home with Yukiko! Nii-chan can get you!

🌸You know those annoying moms at sports games going all “hey, look over there, that's my kid” every other minute and love yapping about said kid's accomplishments? Yeah, that's why the Haitanis are really unpopular with the other parents when they attend your competitions. Not just because they're delinquents. They're noisy delinquents.

🌸My own bro has this thing of yelling stuff at me like “SOCIALIZE!”, “IT WAS RIGHT THERE, GOD, WHY?!” , “NOOOOO”in front of everyone. Ran does that a lot when he's trying to get your attention, no matter whether you're outside or inside. It's all “HEY LOOK WHAT I GOT YOU”, “LITTLE SISSSSSSSSS”, “PRINCESS, YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!!”until you and Rindou beg him to stop. Please.

🌸They’re very, very proud that you know how to defend yourself so well, both physically and verbally, from bullies looking to harass the Haitanis’ kid sister or mean girls picking on your outfit or bitching about how the little princess always needs saving. Rindou had to stifle his smirk when he saw you beat down the creep that wouldn't take no for an answer with a move he taught you himself because someone needs to be responsible and reprimand you that violence, is not, the answer!

“But you're in a gang, nii-chan.”

“That's different. Next time someone's following you around, I'm beating him up.”

🌸Low-key I feel like they'd turn a blind eye on whatever less than appropriate stuff you're doing. Oh, you wanna stuff shaving cream into Usagi’s locker for talking shit about your friends? No, Ran definitely didn't see you stuffing a can into your bag. What's this Rindou hears about you copying off someone's test paper? Nonsense. He helped you study this topic himself.

🌸No way, absolutely not, their baby sister is too innocent and pure for such things.

🌸But when it comes to breaking their rules, nuh uh. They're not gonna stand for it; sorry, it sucks but it sucks. No involvement with gangs. No smoking. No skipping school without a valid reason (”Yes, princess, going to a cafe with your beloved older brother is a valid reason, now let's get going.”). If you need money just ask. Again, no interacting with gang members.

🌸Most of all: no dating.

🌸If you've never gotten a confession and feel left out that all your friends are dating, sad bad luck, sorrows, sorrows. Ran will comfort you and assure you you're a catch, beyond a catch, an angel no one deserved, but secretly be glad.

🌸If you have, though, and it's not a secret admirer, Ran and Rindou will show up at school looking for him/her and give him/her a nice chat. With a baton. And Rindou casually bringing up all the ways to hide a body.

🌸Heaven forbid you actually have a boyfriend/girlfriend.

🌸The actual problem isn’t that they’re against that. Ran’s the best person you want when preparing for a date and you know one text will have Rindou running if he/she tries anything uncomfortable. Your number one hype men, although you’re tired of yelling at them no, okay, stop, you’re not gonna do the nasty, so stop will all these protection warnings!

🌸No, the problem is that they have the most unrealistic expectations for whoever your (unfortunate) crush will be. You’re not saying their (impossible) ideals don’t sound pleasant, because who doesn’t want the perfect partner, but they don’t exist and do they really have to be so nitpicky about whoever you bring home?

🌸Their baby sister is just too pure and innocent for such things!

🌸Moving on they’re extremely against bringing you into gang life. You know vaguely what they get up to, but otherwise they keep their lips sealed. The idiots showing up at their house for revenge from a rival gang had their asses handed back to them twice as much for involving their sister. The rest learnt to stay away from you. On the one occasion they had to bring you along very reluctantly, Tenjiku low ranks learnt the hard way not to make a comment on you, not just because you gave them a nosebleed (from a punch, not…yeah). They’d only trust Kakucho with you…Izana, not so much, but what can they do if boss wants to induct you in?

🌸What happens when they go to juvie? Ran and Rindou worried sick about you, of course. You’re equal parts tears and indignant anger when they’re taken away and they’re pretty alarmed because how are you going to make it on your own? How? How?!

🌸I think it’s after they’re released the dynamics that had been changing since the day they became delinquents become more obvious; you’re the one taking care of them now, not the other way around. Ran doesn’t order takeout anymore, you make bento. You no longer need Rindou to come fix a flat tire, in fact you take his bike to the shop for maintenance. Ran grumbles that you’re pulling at his hair too hard with the comb and Rindou grudgingly lets you do his highlights over the sink. When they’re back, battered and bruised you set down whatever you’re doing with a complaining sigh to bandage them up, pass ice and wipe off the blood.

🌸You’re the most precious thing in their lives. Ran and Rindou aren’t ever letting you go, get hurt or worse. You’re going to get into a good college, graduate, get a good job and everything great in life, far, far away from the mess in theirs.

🌸For now they’re content to lazily smile and watch you those off in between them, horror movie long forgotten and popcorn crumbs all over your hoodie.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

In terms of wizarding fashion is it more traditional wizards that are wearing the robes outside of a professional setting? Like are the Weasley kids all wearing wizarding robes around the Burrow or do they don muggle clothing for leisure wear?

I talked a bit about what I think wizarding fashion would look like more or less throughout the decades here.

There is this article from Pottermore as well:

By and large, wizard clothing has remained outside of fashion, although small alterations have been made to such garments as dress robes. Standard wizard clothing comprises plain robes, worn with or without the traditional pointed hat, and will always be worn on such formal occasions as christenings, weddings and funerals. Women’s dresses tend to be long. Wizard clothing might be said to be frozen in time, harking back to the seventeenth century, when they went into hiding. Their nostalgic adherence to this old-fashioned form of dress may be seen as a clinging to old ways and old times; a matter of cultural pride. Day to day, however, even those who detest Muggles wear a version of Muggle clothing, which is undeniably practical compared with robes. Anti-Muggles will often attempt to demonstrate their superiority by adopting a deliberately flamboyant, out-of-date or dandyish style in public.

(From Pottermore)

Which gives a general indication.

That being said, I wanted to do a more proper rundown since we know they're not really frozen in time considering Ron's Yule ball dress robes were "out of fashion". So I did some outfits rundown for various characters on various occasions to get the mental image of how common muggle clothing is in wizard fashion and who's wearing robes vs muggle clothes and when:

Formalwear

Formal robes are worn in all formal occasions by both men and women:

“What?” said Ron, looking horror-struck. “Dress robes!” repeated Mrs. Weasley. “It says on your school list that you’re supposed to have dress robes this year... robes for formal occasions.”

(GoF)

however; his dress robes didn’t have any lace on them at all — in fact, they were more or less the same as his school ones, except that they were bottle green instead of black.

(GoF)

“Hi,” said Padma, who was looking just as pretty as Parvati in robes of bright turquoise.

(GoF)

Malfoy was in front; he was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a high collar, which in Harry’s opinion made him look like a vicar. Pansy Parkinson in very frilly robes of pale pink was clutching Malfoy’s arm. 

(GoF)

Mrs. Weasley was wearing a brand-new set of amethyst-colored robes with a matching hat. A moment later Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee, both wearing dress robes, with large white roses in their buttonholes; 

(DH)

I assume the cuts of the robes are different, and that women's dress robes tend to be longer, which is true according to the books:

tried to sell Hermione wizard’s dress robes instead of witch’s

(HBP)

So wizard robes and witches dress robes are designed differently. I assume robes for daywear do have different cuts for wizards and witches but there are some unisex designs (like Hogwarts robes).

Daywear

Most wizards seem to wear casual robes in their daily lives and are unaccustomed to trousers and find them odd or uncomfortable, especially the older wizards who are unfamiliar with muggle culture:

“Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these,” said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers. “I’m not putting them on,” said old Archie in indignation. “I like a healthy breeze ’round my privates, thanks.”

(GoF)

Hogwarts Professors also wear robes on a daily basis:

Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations

(CoS)

Snape whirled about, robes swishing behind him, and stormed out of the ward.

(PoA)

Professor McGonagall had broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to Professor Trelawney and was patting her firmly on the back while withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes.

(OotP)

Dumbledore, of course, is more extreme in his robes choice:

He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots.

(PS)

Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons.

(GoF)

For the most part wizards seem to wear full muggle outfits only when trying to fit in among muggles like in the first example in this section or Dumbledore's plum suit from HBP:

This younger Albus Dumbledore’s long hair and beard were auburn. Having reached their side of the street, he strode off along the pavement, drawing many curious glances due to the flamboyantly cut suit of plum velvet that he was wearing. “Nice suit, sir,” said Harry, before he could stop himself

(HBP)

Mr. Weasley was sitting at the table, checking a sheaf of large parchment tickets. He looked up as the boys entered and spread his arms so that they could see his clothes more clearly. He was wearing what appeared to be a golfing sweater and a very old pair of jeans, slightly too big for him and held up with a thick leather belt. “What d’you think?” he asked anxiously. “We’re supposed to go incognito — do I look like a Muggle, Harry?”

(GoF)

So it seems most wizards own at least one "muggle passing" outfit for extensions in the muggle world (to varying degrees of success depending on their muggle knowledge):

There was Mad-Eye Moody, looking quite as sinister with his bowler hat pulled low over his magical eye as he would have done without it, his gnarled hands clutching a long staff, his body wrapped in a voluminous traveling cloak. Tonks stood just behind him, her bright bubble-gum-pink hair gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the dirty glass station ceiling, wearing heavily patched jeans and a bright purple T-shirt bearing the legend THE WEIRD SISTERS. Next to Tonks was Lupin, his face pale, his hair graying, a long and threadbare overcoat covering a shabby jumper and trousers. At the front of the group stood Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, dressed in their Muggle best, and Fred and George, who were both wearing brand-new jackets in some lurid green, scaly material.

(OotP)

Tonks who is more familiar with muggle fashion, clearly knows what to wear better than the Weasleys. That being said, we do see wizard-produced muggle clothes; like Tonks' Wierd Sisters T-shirt and Fred and George's jackets. So, it is accepted in the WW to wear "muggle-inspired" clothing in terms of cut, but with magical flare when it comes to materials or prints (which are way more colorful and whimsical).

Harry, who was raised in the muggle world, still wears muggle clothes on the breaks up to 5th year at least, but is very used to robes by this point:

“What?” said Ron, looking amazed (Harry wanted to stamp on Ron’s foot, but that sort of thing was much harder to bring off unnoticed when you were wearing jeans rather than robes).

(OotP)

We also know Ron owns at least one pair of jeans in DH:

“D-diffindo,” she said, pointing her wand at Ron, who roared in pain as she slashed open the knee of his jeans, leaving a deep cut. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ron, my hand’s shaking! Diffindo!” [...] “It’s no wonder I can’t get it out, Hermione, you packed my old jeans, they’re tight.”

(DH)

But Hermione packed said pair for him with the expectation they'll be hiding in the muggle world potentially, so I'm not sure if you could count it since it is implied Ron owns just one pair of jeans that actually fit him. It could be his one jeans for a muggle excursion or a comment on the Weasleys' finances, 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Wizards sometimes mix and match muggle and wizard clothes, like with the jumpers Mrs. Weasley knits.

So, while it seems most wizards do own some muggle clothing for when they go into the muggle world. We mostly see the Wesleys (and even Harry) in robes and cloaks even when not at school, but sometimes they are combined with muggle-inspired clothes (since they are clearly wizard-made due to color and pattern choices):

When he’d found his scarlet team robes and pulled on his cloak for warmth

(CoS)

‘Tm sorry, sir,” said Harry, emphasizing the last word as he stowed his wand inside his robes.

(HBP) - on a weekend.

“Keep it safe till we work out how to destroy it,” Harry replied, and, little though he wanted to, he hung the chain around his own neck, dropping the locket out of sight beneath his robes, where it rested against his chest beside the pouch Hagrid had given him.

(DH) - when on the run

More examples of mix and matching muggle-inspired clothes appear later in this post.

But to your question, I'd say the Weasleys probably don't wear muggle clothes around the Burrow usually. They don't seem that knowledgeable about muggle fashion. Molly and Arthur seem to only own the one set of muggle clothes for going into the muggle world. Their children do seem to own some muggle-inspired jackets and shirts and jumpers, but they are probably worn with robes more often than with jeans.

Workwear

For Potions, Herbology, and other manual labor there are work robes that are worn by Hogwarts students and teachers alike:

Professor Sprout put the pink, fluffy pair over her own ears, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

(CoS)

First-year students will require: 1 . Three sets of plain work robes (black) 2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear 3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) 4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings) 

(PS)

So, contrary to the Pottermore article (which I suspect was written to justify the movies' choices a bit), it seems "robes" are the go-to for working around and not muggle trousers for most wizards and witches.

Sportswear

Yawning and shivering slightly, Harry climbed out of bed and tried to find his Quidditch robes.

(CoS)

They were robes for Quidditch and sports.

Professional wear

Ministry personnel wear either robes:

“Morning, Reg!” called another wizard in navy blue robes as he let himself into a cubicle by inserting his golden token into a slot in the door.

(DH)

The man’s scowling, slightly brutish face was somehow at odds with his magnificent, sweeping robes, which were embroidered with much gold thread.

(DH)

Or more muggle-influenced suits, as shown by Fudge:

Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry. “I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry. The Minister of Magic.”

(PoA)

This is an example of mixing muggle-inspired wizard clothes with more traditional cloaks. Umbridge also does this with her pink cardigan over more traditional robes:

squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she had placed a horrible pink Alice band that matched the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes.

(OotP)

But it's clearly not quite muggle fashion as they mix and match muggle-inspired and wizard clothing. Again, these more muggle clothes are still wizardwear and have the typical whimsy of wizard fashion when it comes to colors (like the bright green scales of Fred & George's jackets) and fabrics (scales on the aforementioned jackets & Umbridge's fluffy cardigan is probably more extreme than the muggle version of it because wizards are extra like that).

Hats

Wizards are often mentioned wearing hats (mentioned in many of the quotes I brought up and other quotes I didn't copy here), in contrast to muggle fashion in the 1990s where hats were largely out of fashion. So when imagining wizard fashion in formal or professional settings, imagine a matching hat to the robes they are wearing. Hats in daywear seem to be quite common too, especially among older characters.

As you can tell, I love talking about wizard fashion.

[dreamlikevening]

Pick A Shade Of Pink ౨ৎ

for something you need to hear right now ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚

₊˚⊹ ᰔ piles 1, 2, and 3 ᰔ ⊹˚₊

pile 1

hello angels! i felt called to call this pile "angels". i think you're positively surrounded by them at this moment. i will give some intuitive channeling without any cards or anything. what i'm getting is "cherubs", you could be into melanie martinez. you could really enjoy piano and/or lo-fi music. you could like the song "still with you" by jungkook of bts, or "interlude: shadow" by suga of bts. 505 by arctic monkeys. you could enjoy magical-princessy stuff, i'm getting madoka magica? you could enjoy really cutesy stuff but also be into horror. i'm getting a very dual energy. maybe you like to mix opposing characteristics in certain things. if any of that resonated with you, this is definitely for you! remember to always trust your heart. let's begin! :D

when i was shuffling my decks i felt very nostalgic and cozy and familiar. a type of feeling that i felt all the time when i was a kid. you may be reuniting with your childlike joys and having a lot of wishes come true that you forgot you even made when you were a child. maybe your childhood required a lot of hope & faith on your part. and you held on for the lovely moments. angel, look around you and observe all the magic. create your own magic. surround yourself with things that lift you up. let it sink in.

your tarot cards are: 7 of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, queen of pentacles, and the hermit in reverse, oracle card keywords are compassion, devotion, humility, humanity, grace, psychic abilities, acting on visions, it's destined, heart healing, emotions, connection, time eases

you have four earth cards, and i am getting the message that someone here may be pushing aside their intuition or dismissing psychic visions or maybe they're seeing repetitive signs to stop doing a certain thing. this could only be for some. but if there's anything you've been doing impulsively, specifically a bad habit (i'm leaning towards substance abuse), your guides could be advising you to come back to yourself. if it's not substance abuse, it could be a tendency to overwork yourself or distract yourself too much. i'm getting an imbalance of the 3D and 5D-- too present in your ego rather than in your soul. and this is directly because of that "unhealthy habit" this will lessen over time because of a natural cause, but you also have the full power to work on it yourself and feel a lot better and quicker! my piece of advice to you is to take at least 3-5 minutes to meditate at the end of each day. have some tea and just let yourself think without running away or escaping your thoughts. i think you've been working on yourself for a long time, and this experience is just trying to remind you to stay on track, it won't change your progress (which is beautiful by the way! congratulations!). any epiphanies you gain right now, or any blockages that you perceive, write about them and analyze the little details. you will come out of it feeling brand new. whether this is about a creative project/aspiration or your spiritual journey, or both, you're reaching a very significant point of no return. you are "mastering" something meaningful. ending a long & difficult cycle. congrats congrats congrats!!

pile 2

hi! some intuitive things i got were dry skin, wintery (someone who likes winter time a lot), a difficult or unpleasant relationship situation. i'm also feeling the need to remind you specifically to stay warm right now, take lots of care, rest a lot, and just relax. i was hearing "Nurse Yourself" if you'd like to look that up! bubblegum.

some paper slips for confirmation that this is for you: animals (u like them a lot or take care of them), mind matters, winter (double confirmation!!!!!!!), summer (interesting, you could be dealing with someone in ur life right now that is your exact opposite or your half-birthday is their birthday and vice versa. getting capricorn and cancer energy), "baby ♡" so once again a romantic interest, and "never too late". if any of it resonated with you, this is for youuuuu

your cards: the emperor in reverse, two of cups, five of cups in the reverse, and king of pentacles.

i asked spirit what you were dealing with right now and got the emperor in reverse. i'm getting some sort of masculine figure that has an authoritative characteristic in your life is having an impact on you. maybe a relationship is bringing these things to the light so you're recognizing patterns that have to do with parental especially paternal (father) wounds. you could be struggling to see eye to eye with this person because the situation is pushing you into changing your mindset (for the better), ending a pattern. this relationship you're dealing with could be anything from romantic to someone in your circle, and they've been on your mind a lot, but for sure it isn't easy. it seems quite tough to deal with this situation, again, because it has karmic energy. you were definitely meant to meet them and learn something super important. this shift in perspective that is seeking you out could be related to the following: standing in your power/being more confident, knowing your worth, letting go of codependency/having a healthy balance between independence and relying on others, detaching or moving on from someone that has hurt you. if you've been feeling called to reflect on any or all of those, i would recommend doing ANY of these activities, i would suggest going with the ones you feel the most inspired to do! it's all about the intention anyway so these are just ideas to get a lil' nudge <3 reading, writing, research, gardening, crafting, helping others out, volunteering. these things may really help you find closure and do some wonderful healing! 🪴 "be resourceful! be wise!" i also just got harry potter for some reason haha. maybe ur feeling called to watch it :) those were your lovely messages, i hope clarity always finds your way.

pile 3

hi sweets i hope you're having a good day. i'm getting such a natural feeling from this group. very light, airy, natural, hollistic, down-to-earth kind of energy. if this sounds like you, or an ideal version of yourself, this is for you my love! 🌷 i just heard "you're like a flower in bloom right now" !! very kind message from your angels. (specifically got angels rather than just "spirit guides"). 222 and 333 could be significant to you. yogurt. yakult. soju. south korea (maybe makeup or fashion or snacks from s.korea). animation or manga. romance. filters. trend-setter. coffee or tea. a very truthful person with high principles.

your cards: the high priestess, the emperor, the magician, 9 of pentacles, oracle card messages are inner power, unbridled confidence, claiming your pace, and "what are you being called to create?"

when i was barely shuffling the cards i was just thinking to myself how beautiful you are. i could feel it so truly. you're like the calm breeze in people's lives. a constant. such a reassuring force. in my mind, i got the picture of a palm tree in front of a beautiful beach (very soothing and clear blue waters) and the wind was blowing a bit harshly, but the palm tree still looked So in its own essence. just existing beautifully. a part of nature. this is exactly what you give off and oh my goodness i would love to have a friend like you. i asked your angels what you needed to hear right now and FYI, when i shuffle and a lotsss of cards fall, i know that whoever i'm reading for has some guides that want to tell them So Many Things. lots of chitter-chatter. your guides freaking love you because you have such a special way of being and a light inside of you "like no other". whatever you are doing spiritually at the moment is being praised by your angels. i keep feeling the sensation that they are endlessly proud of you. i got the image of a kid with a golden medal and two angels on each side of them. you are surrounded by them. ahhhh. you are a breath of fresh air in this world. i'm getting that what you need to hear right now has to do with being sure of yourself. trust yourself. trust the universe. it has your back because you do a lot of important and not-so-easy things in your life. you have lots of integrity and i wouldn't be surprised if you had prominent earth placements in your astrology chart or maybe you're making some big strides towards finding true inner peace and finding contentment. your hard work is paying off. your inspired ideas and creativity are really wanting you to make them physical. put them out there. create something, anything that feels close to your heart and makes you feel excited. it's okay to be afraid, but as i always say, let fear be your motivator. fear is nothing but a little insect which you can just walk around. you're unstoppable seriously i'm so excited for you and whatever you're creating. whatever this thing is... it's gonna be rewarding. you're gonna be able to treat yourself to something really nice as a result and celebrate yourself and the wonderful person you are. this made me teary-eyed. have so much fun with whatever you're doing, you do not need instructions or rules, you just need yourself.

some songs i channeled for you, feel free to listen if you'd like :3 runners by stray kids, edge of seventeen by stevie nicks, chosen by blood orange, do it again by steely dan.

thank you for being here 🎀⋆˚˖°𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⋆˚˖˚⊹

[what-have-i-unleashed]

hmmmm somewhat a continuation of this

imagine one day killer is captured by the efforts of both the star sanses and epic sanses. but the thing now is that they don't know what to do with killer. like, he's almost impervious to all interrogation attempts, and none of them would stoop to torture to gain information of course.

while everyone is arguing over what to do with killer, color stands up and says he can deal with killer, with the condition that no one spy on him or killer while they're talking. everyone else looks at each other and agrees, since there's not much they can object for now.

so color enters the room where killer is held. and killer is very happy to see his fated enemy after entertaining so many boring side characters.

would be a bit fun/creepy if the interrogation room has a one-way mirror. and during a previous asking (maybe done by delta or swap), color was standing behind the glass watching the procedure, and killer immediately zeroed in on him despite color knowing that the glass is one-way so logically killer couldn't see him. but killer did, just intensely staring at where color was. color moved to another spot, and he swore killer turned his head to follow too. creepy killer yeehaw.

anyway, back to color and killer talking. killer is super ecstatic upon seeing color and starts dissing the other sanses for sucking at interrogation, proudly blathering on and on about he's gonna torture a hypothetical prisoner if he was in their shoes. color cuts him off being like "let's talk about something else" and asks about killer's injuries. killer is all "nah they're nothing compared to the worst ones", and color humors him "are any of them done by me?". killer blows a raspberry like "pfft, you think you're so terrible, o shining hero?"

and now they talk about their previous battles. which ones are the most deadly. which ones are the most fun. killer seems proud about the permanent marks he left on color, and also nostalgic about the ones color left on him. color keeps his opinions neutral throughout the whole conversation. it's best if this feels as if two friends having a chat after a long time not seeing each other. and aren't they friends now...?

and so color finally pops the proposal. he asks if killer wants to change side. he promises that killer doesn't have anything to fear if he joins color. and killer is silent for a moment before bursting into hysterical laughter. like suuuure thing, obviously people are gonna magically forgive him for terrorizing the multiverse. obviously nightmare is gonna leave them alone if he defects. he's been in too deep now, can't color see? there's no hope for him to rehabilitate.

and color is like "of course not! you're worth saving!". but killer wouldn't listen. it's cute that color thinks so. but the reality is that they're fated to be on opposite sides. that's their story decided by the players after all. and killer is content with it. content with having color in his life, even like this. it's best to have color than nothing at all.

{tagging @what-have-you-contained as revenge} {also @howlsofbloodhounds since i think you'd like it}

[blueberri-blu]

Ch.2 Mea Vita ∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡

[rise]Future!Donnie x Future!Reader & Donnie x Reader (Post Krang Invasion)

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, gore, injuries, may add more

Please heed the warnings

←Previous Next→

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳

Previously...

A couple hours later you heard a loud bang from the kitchen. Your heart was racing, you looked over at Donnie only to see him in a deep sleep still. He must've been awake for many days for him to still be asleep you thought. Grabbing his tech bo, you made your way to the kitchen, only to see an orange portal, and a much older Leo walk through...

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳

You paused, you both stared at each other as if caught red handed. Older Leo put his hands up slowly and said "Woah woah woah.. hold on just a second, I'm not looking for trouble" you eyed him suspiciously, but lowered the tech bo slightly and quirked an eyebrow, almost asking who, what, when, where, and why.

You guided him to the living area, Leo looked around almost nostalgically. You guessed he was a part of the alternate universe where you all didn't defeat the Krang. "Where is everyone else?" "Well, since it's almost 2pm, they're all asleep." He could see the bags under your eyes, and he registered just what had happened. He, a supposed stranger, broke into the layer while everyone was asleep, leaving Donnie's poor s/o fearing for their life. "Oh, i- I'm really sorry, I just, I really needed you." "What? You need me? What the hell for?"

In Donnie's room, he felt your absence soon after you had left, he got up, and started trying to look for you, hoping you had only gone to the bathroom. But realizing his tech bo was missing, he immediately knew something was wrong. He got up as quickly as possible, rushing for his battle shell. Practically sprinting to the living area, he saw a much older Leo sitting with you. You didn't seem hurt, just very confused, and clearly tired.

You saw Donnie panicking, so you got up and went over to him. "Hey, don! It's all ok, he's Leo, from the alternate universe, it's all ok." He calmed a bit at your words, and up close, he saw much better that you weren't hurt, so he allowed himself to relax more.

"and what exactly do you need from us" you could tell Donnie was irritated from the whole ordeal, not only interrupting his and your sleep, but also showing up unannounced, and talking to you.

"Not exactly from all of you. Just them." He pointed at you. Donnie saw red. There was absolutely nothing he could need from you that would bring good to them.

All of Donnie's yelling woke his brothers, all of them coming to where you were to see what was going on.

Upon walking into the living area, all they saw was an older Leo being yelled at by their Donnie, who was being held back by you.

Raph ran and put himself between Donnie and Older Leo. "What's going on Donnie?!" "He wants y/n! He wants to take them with him!" Older Leo looked embarrassed, and raph was so worried. You grabbed Donnie, and turned him around "Don, you don't know that, and even if that was his plan, we need to hear him out. We can't jump to conclusions. If we can help them, isn't it best we do?"

Donnie hated how you were always ready to help others, no matter how it affected you. He sighed and glared at Older Leo "You have 3 minutes"

Older Leo explained that he needed you to help Older Donnie with something, heavily implying that you... were no longer around.

Donnie softened at this implication, almost imagining it happening in this universe. "But what exactly do you need them for." "Our Donnie isn't.. motivated, at all. He is putting his life at risk carelessly, we just need y/n to be present with him for this next mission, that's all"

Donnie was... Skeptical to say the least. And frankly, his brothers were as well. Leo looked at his future self, unsure of being able to trust him. Meanwhile Mikey looked in horror at the amount of scars on Older Leo's body, and Raph? He was internally destroyed at seeing his usually hyped up brother so... emotionless.

But, you ever the helper, agreed. Older Leo laid out the specifics of the plan, trying his best to convince Donnie you would be safe. And although Donnie wasn't a hundred percent sure, he knew it was your decision, and that he would just have to trust you and his alternate universe brother.

You packed up what Donnie decided was necessary, and what Older Leo had told you to bring, along with a lot of food, just in case. Then, Older Leo made some kind of... Calling signal, and an orange portal opened up.

You kissed Donnie good bye a soft "I love you" slipped your lips, and he stared at you, holding you tight, you just barely heard an "I love you too" from him.

Then... You walked through the portal with Older Leo, not quite knowing what to expect, and your heart pounding out of your chest.

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳

You ended up in what seemed like an underground bunker. Ahead of you, you saw... Yoda? Wait, no.. is that, Mikey?

Older Leo greeted Yoda with a hug. "Hello Micheal, I was somehow able to convince them" he chuckled, and Older Mikey seemed to share these feelings. Older Mikey then stared at you, and smiled, then squealed, and came up and hugged you so tight, you felt your ribs cry.

"ohhhhh I'm so happy to see you! We've all missed you so much!" You tried to hug him back, but soon you were pulled out of his grasp by Older Leo. "Come on, we need to get you to Donnie soon"

You walked to the lab door, and Older Leo looked at you expectantly, You put in the password your Donnie had given you, and surprisingly, it was the same.

You were greeted with a Donnie's lab, only much darker and dirtier, littered with what seemed like failed gadgets and machines. Then you heard a chair squeak.

∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠°♡༶∘⁠˚⁠˳

[rookflower]

it's annoying because you can never have a nuanced discussion about those two (brambleclaw and squirrelflight) yes, brambleclaw does, within the text, have noble qualities and is capable of caring for squirrelflight, which is part of why she stays with him. but it is important to take into account the power imbalance within them that existed since the beginning of their relationship, and how squirrelflight's wrongdoings in the relationship are never as personal or reprehensible as bramble's. a lot of people see marriage/romantic love as some all-powerful, moral entity, but i think it's what makes them most interesting as a couple to show that even while he's capable of loving her, it doesn't lessen the fact that he has the capability to hurt her and how that has affected her. i feel like you can be fascinated with them as a couple without necessarily endorsing that dynamic irl idk.

OH yeah, absolutely. Brambleclaw is a really frustrating character to me because I see the intrigue there- intentionally or not, he's very flawed in a way which is fairly consistent and that I would genuinely enjoy as a part of the story, if it has a sense of intentionality or if the books had him face literally any consequences for his actions, but at the end of the day he is ALWAYS framed as a good or understandable person, is never humbled or forced to change, and his actions are never reflected on much past when they happen. I don't think he is intentionally abusive to squirrelflight, I think he is ambitious and self centered and very insecure, and his dynamic with her as older and more responsible -> deputy and warrior -> leader and deputy, combined with squirrelflight 's defiance and tendency to do what she feels is right over his authority makes him treat her like absolute shit. Yes I think he has a *reason* to be furious about her lying about the kits, but I don't think that he has the moral high ground about it especially when you mirror it with the hawkfrost shit in tnp which also involved lying to your partner about a wrongdoing in favour of your sibling. He never tells her about all that, does he.

The reason why I find "they're both as bad as each other" or "squirrelflight is worse" or "squirrelflight is morally grey" or whatever so fucking annoying is because that's what the books ALREADY DO to avoid framing bramblestar as in the wrong for literally anything and I think it is sexist as fuck and lazy cowardly writing. and I also think it is blatantly not true because any time she undermines his authority or lies to him I think she is sympathetic and/or genuinely right in doing so, which I can't say the same about most of his failings LOL.

TLDR I could like brambleclaw if he faced consequences for his actions towards squirrelflight or the text acknowledged his abuse for what it is, but he doesn't and it won't. I think bramblesquirrel is kind of fascinating in its unhealthiness and instability and it's a crucial part of both characters. It's just uh (gestures around to warrior cats misogyny moments that change it from being a tumultuous long term abusive and dysfunctional relationship into a wholesome nostalgic classic couple where they "just bicker a lot" but are perfect for each other)