#this came to me rn and i Had to write it down

[drunkinyourbenz]

can you do a billie with reader who has her period and it feels like literal hell please?

୨ৎ whatever you need. b.e

୨ৎ billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff

୨ৎ content: period cramps (obviously), overwhelmed reader, established relationship, this is soooo fluffy and billie's big on physical affection!!

୨ৎ note: anon baby u read my mind my period started today and ugh it’s literal hell so writing this came sooo naturally to me because this is exactly what i need rn (cried while writing this i'm so so emotional) i tried very hard not to make it super specific to my experiences so this is basically my morning minus my specific symptoms and plus billie!! i hope this brings u some much needed comfort baby, we're in this together <3

when you woke up, the sun was barely even peeking through the curtains, and your room was still bathed in darkness. you reached for your phone, groaning at the bright screen and rubbing your bleary eyes. two am, that’s what your phone read. that’s when it hit you, the sharp pain in your lower abdomen, a pain so intense you had no idea how you hadn’t noticed it straight away. you groaned, rolling over in bed and burying your head in your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut. your nails dug into your palms, anything to distract you from the constant excruciating pain you were feeling. 

after about half an hour, you dragged yourself out of bed. you trudged into the kitchen, where you ate half a mandarin before taking some pain medication. the meds didn’t tend to work, but you’d do anything to think you were making it better. you managed to force yourself to take a quick shower, just to freshen up. after the shower, you got changed into one of billie’s oversized t-shirts and some shorts, and you collapsed back into your bed. you were well aware that you should get yourself a heating pad, but you didn’t have the energy. 

after about half an hour of laying there with your legs hugged halfway to your chest, begging for the cramps to just disappear magically, you remembered something. today was a day where billie had a big surprise date planned out for you, and you really didn’t want to be a buzzkill, but… 

you grabbed your phone again, going straight to billie’s contact. you typed out a few messages, deleting them over and over again, before finally settling on one. 

hi baby, i’m so sorry i don’t think i can make our date 

it didn’t take long for billie to respond, and just over a minute later, you had a new text from her. there was no disappointment or frustration in the message, just concern.

bils: you okay angel? it’s 3am?

you stared at the text for a moment before responding simply.

eh, cramps. 

that time, her response was instant. you could picture the concerned expression on her face, and you were hit with a wave of adoration for her. she just cared so much. 

bils: aw baby, i’m coming over rn, okay??

no bils it’s 3am you don’t have to don’t wanna be a bother 

bils: please, u could never bother me bils: i’m coming over, end of story

you pouted softly, overwhelmed with love for her. 

i love you

bils: i love you more bils: anything you need me to bring?

just you and maggie’s baking if u have any

bils: ofc ofc i’m omw mama

before you knew it, billie had gotten to your place. you heard your front door open, she had a spare key that she used once in a while in situations like this or when you weren’t home. you heard her soft footsteps approaching your room, and soon enough your door opened and she walked in. she had on some sweatpants and a baggy hoodie, and a bag in her hands. 

“hi, angel.” she walked up to your bed, leaning down and kissing your forehead. her voice was soft and soothing, and you were reminded then that you could literally just listen to her talk for hours on end.

you opened your mouth to speak, but she continued talking before you could. “i brought some of mum’s cookies, you can have as many as you want. anything you need? can i get you a heating pad or some tea? what about pain meds?”

in reality, all you wanted was to curl up in bed to her and cling to her like she was your lifeline, but you knew that a heating pad would be the wise decision. so you nodded, “i’ve taken my pain meds, but a heating pad would be nice…”

billie quickly left the room and grabbed you a heating pad, passing it to you so you could put it wherever was most comfortable. she looked like she was about to ask what else you needed, so you bet her to it. you opened your arms up, holding them out for her and pouting up at her from the bed. a smile spread across her lips, and she didn’t waste time climbing under the covers with you and wrapping her arms around you. her fingers found your hair, and she let them gently brush through it. 

your head nuzzled into the crook of billie’s neck as you closed your eyes, fiddling with the edge of her hoodie to try and distract yourself from the pain. you could feel her eyes on you, and after a long moment, you lifted your head from where you’d hidden it. “i’m sorry ‘bout our date. i know you planned it all out.” your voice came out in a mumble, muffled against billie’s shoulder. 

she kept stroking your hair softly, “don’t apologise, baby. it’s totally out of your control. plus, there’ll be other days we can reschedule it to. i’d rather you be at home and comfortable.” she paused to press a kiss to the top of your head. “i love you, and i’d go wherever you asked, even at 3am. you’re not burdening me with anything, i promise.” 

you could already feel yourself getting overwhelmed with emotions at her sweet words, another thing that your period often caused. you groaned softly, burying your head back into the crook of her neck. “shut up, i’ll cry if you keep being so cute.”

billie just giggled, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, then your forehead, then your nose. “love youuu!” she said in a singsong voice, clearly trying to distract you from the fact that the date couldn’t go ahead. 

you knew that she was trying to take your mind off it, and you didn’t mind. it was reassuring that she was happy just to be there with you. the two of you spent a while just cuddled up together, when another wave of cramps hit. your cramps were constant, but some definitely worse than others. you groaned under your breath, your grip subconsciously tightening on the hem of billie’s hoodie.

she looked down at you, asking again with that ever so soothing voice. “need anything, angel?” 

you simply hummed, trying your best not to just double over in pain and not speak for the rest of the day. after a moment, you mumbled, “herbal tea? and maggie’s cookies?” 

billie leaned down and kissed your forehead, “at your service.” 

she spoke with a small playful grin on her face, and slipped out of the bed. she returned a few minutes later, a mug of lavender tea in her hands and a plate of maggie’s cookies. after placing those on your bedside table, she reached for her bag, pulling out another hoodie. it was one of the ones she wore most, and therefore also one of the ones that you wore most. you were the hoodie thief of the relationship, and billie certainly didn’t mind—if anything, she encouraged it. 

she slipped the hoodie over your head, and you let out a sigh when her smell enveloped you. it smelt like a mix of her perfume and that one moisturiser she used every single day and loved more than life itself. you hummed in satisfaction, “this one’s my favourite.”

billie chuckled, slipping your arms into the hoodie. “trust me, i’m well aware.”

she held the mug of tea up to your lips so you could take a sip, and she felt her heart warm at the small smile that spread across your lips. 

soon, billie slipped back into bed with you. the cramps were still tearing you apart from the inside and you still felt like absolute hell, but at least she was there with you—that made it a tiny bit better. 

the next half hour passed in a comfortable silence, the only movements being billie giving you a gentle kiss or stroking your hair. it didn’t take long, however, for a thought that you had pushed from your frustrated mind to return. it lingered there, clawing at your brain until you finally spoke. 

“i hate that this happened so close to christmas. i still have presents to wrap. i had so much i needed to do, and now i’m just–” 

“i can wrap your presents.” billie’s calming voice cut through the mess of thoughts in your brain, and you fell silent—only for a moment, though. 

“but–” 

“shhh, baby. no buts. i’ll wrap any presents that aren’t for me. i want to help you, yeah?” 

a pout made it’s way to your lips, “you’re too good to me. i can wrap maggie’s and—” 

“angel, i’m not going to tell my family what you got them. just let me help you, yeah?” 

after a long pause, you relented. “...yeah. thank you.” billie smiled, kissing your forehead once again and squeezing your hand. “It’s nothing. i’ll stay with you today: wrap your presents, make a nice warm dinner, run you a bath, and cuddle you to sleep.” 

at that, your heart practically melted. you weren’t sure if it was the period making you extra emotional or just the love you held in your heart for her. you were so full of adoration for this girl, you had no idea how she managed to be so completely and utterly perfect. she knew you like the back of her hand, she knew just how to make your day better, she knew just how to bring that smile to your face. sometimes you swore she knew you better than you knew yourself. 

you spoke again, your voice soft. “what did i ever do to deserve someone as perfect as you?” 

billie smiled and kissed your forehead again. “you deserve all the good things in the world, my beautiful girl. i’m just lucky to be one of them.”

[gothsuguru]

serial killer!reader my beloved <333

[laniidae-passerine]

catch me laughing in the club awkwardly because this season has a 19 year old blonde female companion from London, a space travelling left of law brunette queer boy who flirts heavily with the doctor, absolutely zero writers of colour and no mention of sensitivity readers…….and next season the new companion is a woman of colour. uh oh!

[nina-ya]

I’m gonna go work on some more of the ficmas things to hopefully get rid of my stress 💃💃💃I’ll see yall on the other side

[dailykugisaki]

Day 223 | id in alt

Maki thinking some very unsorcererly things over a piece of damn cheesecake.

(Read from right to left💥)

[puppyeared]

If I close my eyes and concentrate realllyyy hard I can pretend im in my animal crossing room

[soobvape]

i need brownies so fucking bad rn

[hanzajesthanza]

i was looking up tips for formatting bilingual books (for example, a copy of idk the iliad with ancient greek on one side, english translation on the other), but i didn’t know the word describing this kind of format 🤔

so i was stringing together keywords like “book with two languages” and one of the results was a reddit post with someone trying to find a book that alternates between multiple languages, i.e., there are no translations, it’s it’s one text, but half of the story is in english, then the other half, or interwoven throughout, is in french or whatever

and it took strength to not suggest the hussite trilogy 🥴

[bookishjules]

something something stoll not just sounding like 'stole' but looking like 'stroll'.. and hermes not only being the god of thieves but the god of travelers and anyone who takes the roads.. and the slower pace of a stroll and how hermes slowed down enough to have two kids with the same woman..

[intheholler]

the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!

my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.

nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned

so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).

they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!

as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.

the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.

they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.

naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.

so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.

305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.

while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.

perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).

but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.

(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)

so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.

it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.

but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.

a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.

in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.

men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.

her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.

as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.

meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.

but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting

i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.

(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)

in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.

anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.

it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.

but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."

in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.

how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?

[lyrefromthesea]

HELLLLLAAAAW THEEERRRE, LISTEN (or read), I've been thinking. THAT I LOVE UR WRITING A LOOOOT, and I've been waiting but before that, idrk if u take req rn so feel free to discard this request! anyway, back to main topic, I've been wondering how the hashira's would react to reader/their s/o, adoring their hands a lot, like i mean— obsessed with their hands, whether its holding hands in public (or privately, if the character does not really like showing affection in public), or maybe yk hold hands in bed HWGAHGAHWHS, maybe, something like soft nsfw, like with fluff! u get me? just the character, comforting their s/o when they get too tense during their sexual intercourse, andddddd more fluff if u want! thank u for taking ur time to read!!

Male Hashira x Reader - Hold my hands

author's note: my fever has killed me a few times during this post.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: nsfw, sexual intercourse (Rengoku, Giyuu), mildly suggestive (Sanemi)

Tengen:

• who knows exactly what his hands can do to you and despite his teasing nature uses them for your comfort

• enjoys seeing you calm down because of his hands and though he doesn't want you to feel bad he certainly doesn't mind calming you down

he's been looking towards the sky for quite some time now, sitting under the tree with the person he adored most.

you were so strong, so sure of your actions-

and sometimes you felt insecure and the worry seemed to consume you. he understood it, he understood your fear of failure and the future that would follow.

that's why he had no problems consoling you when you needed it most, taking his time to sit with you in silence. words weren't needed in these times, only the comfort of his presence.

he allowed himself to glance down at you, feeling the tender touches of your fingers on his. you were strong, he didn't doubt that, but your body felt so fragile compared to his own.

the difference in the size of your hands proved it to him every single time. he knew you could protect yourself, but if you couldn't, he would be there for you.

"i think i'm feeling better." you said, your eyes finally focusing on his face instead of his hands. you had been touching and playing with his fingers for quite some time now, your hold on them decreasing.

"ya sure? you still look down." he answered, earning a hesitant nod from you. feeling your hand let go of him made him act, bringing his own hand up to the back of your head.

"i don't believe it and lying is not flashy in my eyes. let's stay a bit longer." you were quite surprised when he pressed your head against his chest, looking up at the sky again.

somehow he always knew what you needed, even when you didn't admit it. and with a gentle smile, as well as his hand running through your hair, you sunk into a deep slumber.

Obanai:

• who is surprised when he found out you were fascinated by his hands.

• someone like you adoring a feature of his? the mere thought made him blush when he was laying awake at night.

• who enjoys holding your hand just as much as you, often turning into a blushing mess.

he knew he wasn't as strong as most other hashira. he was smaller, physically weaker. of course it gave him one or two advantages, like a flexibility the tall males around him could only dream about.

yet he secretly found himself craving their strength - at least a part of it. he wouldn't complain about a bit more arm strength, but that would remain a dream of his.

the moment he found himself content with the lack of strength he possessed clearly came with you. you had been sitting next to each other, simply enjoying the time you could spend together. at least that was what he was doing, your mind had long drifted away.

he tensed up when he felt your fingers brush over his, holding his hand. your thumb brushed over his knuckles comfortingly.

he didn't dare look at you, only turning towards you when he felt you glancing, uncertainty rising inside you with his current expression. his hand reached out to you when he felt you pull away.

"i shouldn't have done that, i'm sorry." you said, trying to escape any rising feeling of shame. you just didn't expect him to hold your hand tighter.

"don't stop." he answered, his tone letting it appear much more like a quiet plead. surprise overtook you, quickly replaced by a comforting shyness.

your fingers interlocked with his once more, this time with switched positions. you felt goosebumps appear on your skin, your cheeks heating up.

"your hands are soft, [name].."

Rengoku:

• whether it's in public or at home, he enjoys holding your hand just as much as you like holding his

• however, one attractive thing he does is taking your hand after overstimulating you

"honey.." he pants, trying not to cum a second time from the way you were squeezing around him, body basically trying to milk him even in your current state.

it had started a few hours ago, when he came home from a long mission. he had missed you during his time in the snowy mountains, deciding that his arrival would be the perfect moment to show you how much he appreciates your body.

having to cum multiple times - first his fingers, then his tongue and now his cock - was just too much for your poor body.

of course Rengoku realized that, seeing you shake and tremble under him, small tears running down your flushed cheeks. you were still caught up in your orgasm, trying to even out your breathing pattern.

"it's okay, we're done. breathe, little flame." he panted, hands letting go of the sheets of your shared bed, sitting upright and looking down at you.

he didn't pull out, simply admiring your panting form laying on the bed. his hands snaked along your arms, holding your hands and pressing them into the matress.

feeling the warmth of his palm press against yours got your attention, a silent moan leaving your lips. "are you okay?" the question made you nod quietly, finally being able to register the world around you again.

"'m so sore.." you mumbled, watching the man above you laugh, squeezing your hands in response.

Sanemi:

• he absolutely loves it

• you clearly developed a liking to your hand and he's fully using that to fluster you

• taking you by surprise is his favorite

you've been standing in the kitchen, making sure all the medical herbs you've received were in their right place. you needed to make sure they're easily accessible when Sanemi came home injured.

in your concentrated state, you didn't notice the tall man approaching you slowly - lurking like a predator.

and then you shriek, feeling a slap land on your ass. out of reflex you leaned forward, your head quickly turning around to find Sanemi right behind you.

"missed me?" he teased, stepping closer until he was right behind you, hands placed on the counter on either side of you. he pressed his body against yours with a smirk, resulting in your face getting a lot warmer than before.

"Sanemi! you always do this!" you scolded him, trying to turn around from the sheer embarrassment you just faced or rather the excitement that pooled in your body.

"what can i say? can't resist you with a fine ass like that." he chuckled, letting go of the counter to squeeze your behind with his calloused fingers, earning a whine from you.

"and truthfully, i think you can't resist me either." hearing him whisper into your ear, hand traveling up your side, made you stare at the watch.

he was right, you couldn't resist him, nor could he resist you. besides, the herbs could wait for a while.

Giyuu:

• initially he was the one that liked holding your hands, it was the most simple form of physical touch he could come up with

• still a touch-starved man, WILL have his hands on you the whole time when you're making love.

• knows it gets you more exited, wouldn't judge you for it either, since he gets just as exited when he sees you

"Oh~ baby.." he gasped, head resting against the headboard of your bed. he watched you lazily bounce up and down his cock, trying to work yourself into ecstacy.

whenever you were sharing such passionate moments with each other, he could feel his fingers twitch with the need to hold onto your body - onto you.

they first slid up your thighs, holding onto your hips, guiding you to grind back against him. he loved the feeling of your warmth and he loved the reactions his hands could coax out of you.

he didn't miss out on the way your lips opened in a silent cry, begging to feel his hands run over your body, around your neck or anything else that allowed you to feel them.

and of course he'll answer.

"hold.. hold my hands.. i want to feel you.." he moans, letting go of your hips only to intertwine his fingers with yours, feeling your hips stutter.

he certainly knew how to exploit your weakness for his hands - especially since he was just as weak for you.

Gyomei:

• likes using his hands to calm you down

• they're like a security rope connecting the two of you when the situation makes uncertainty rise within you

"my dearest child, are you ready to serve as a hashira?" the soothing voice of master Kagaya usually managed to calm you down, but not today.

you sat in front of him, a private meeting being held between the two of you and a pillar of choice. naturally, you went with the one you trusted most - the stone pillar.

it would've been an honor to serve as a hashira, every demon slayer knew that, but being confronted with the choice of being one, you found yourself unsure.

the pillars were the strongest humans you had ever set your eyes on, you weren't sure if you could stand by their side.

lowering your head in shame, you were ready to decline the master's offer. however, you were stopped by the blind man next to you.

he placed a large hand on your back, the warmth seeping into your skin slowly calming you down, letting you think properly.

you weren't chosen without a reason, if the master wanted you to become a hashira, he trusted in your talent.

swallowing down your uncertainty, you nodded with little to no hesitance. "i'm ready."

next to you, still his hand on your back, Gyomei found himself smiling. if it was his presence you needed to make a decision, he'd gladly do this for you everytime.

[pellucid-constellations]

Across Town

Pairing: Line Cook!Azriel x Reader

Summary: A coffee date with Azriel. It's snowing. He doesn't seem to mind.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Major fluff

a/n: Here's a little something since I can't post my longer fics rn (finals 🥲) I rarely ever post fluffy warm things like this so enjoy it while you can 🫵 This can be read on its own!! But the rest of this AU can be found in my masterlist right there ⬇ (This takes place pretty early in their relationship. Everything is out of order with this AU hehe)

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

Azriel wrapped his hands around the cups on the counter, the leather of his jacket feeble compared to the heat inside the cardboard. His nose was slightly red and his hair was windswept from the brief walk inside, but any remaining chill from the weather dissipated when he caught your entrance into the cafe. 

You beamed at him, a cool breeze sweeping in behind you. The bell atop the door sang as you shook your jacket from your shoulders, and Azriel quickly set the two cups on an open table to help you in the process. He stole a kiss to the side of your head as he slid it down your arms. 

“Hi,” Azriel murmured against your hair. 

“Hi,” you chirped back, pressing your hands to his chest to lean up and peck his lips. Azriel hung your jacket on his arm and guided you to the table with his other hand. 

You pretended to ignore the blush dusting his cheeks. 

“Did you make it alright?” he asked, pressing your chair closer to the table before taking his own seat. 

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just a little windy but nothing too crazy.” 

“I should have picked you up.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes and cupped the drink in front of you. It warmed your hands and you didn’t have to look at the writing on the side to know it was exactly what you wanted. The warmth moved to bloom within your chest under Azriel’s adoring gaze. 

“My dorm is literally 15 minutes in the opposite direction.” 

Azirel hummed. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I would have,” you emphasized, leaning back in your chair with a huff that made Azriel grin. “You’re always driving me around. I’ve turned you into a rideshare.” 

“I love driving you around.” 

Your face heated to match the temperature of the cafe. You attempted to hide your bashful expression behind your coffee, but Azriel practically lived for how shy you always got around him, so he tilted his head to keep you in his sights. 

“What’s the matter, baby?” he almost cooed. The smirk plastered on his face was ridiculously attractive and the slight blush on his face remained, making it impossible to collect your bearings. 

“Nothing,” you mumbled into your drink.

He only hummed in response, raising his brows as he sipped his black coffee. This spark in your chest had started growing the minute you spotted his bike outside the cafe. Your feelings for him were insane and almost incongruent with the short two months you’d been dating, but it was so easy to love Azriel. He was attentive and hot and handled you so delicately. It always gave you whiplash when he came to pick you up from class with his tattoos and motorcycle and massive biceps and then pressed soft kisses to your cheek and buckled your helmet in with care. 

But maybe he didn’t even love you. 

Maybe. 

You really hoped he did though. 

He made the best omelets. 

“How’s your drink?” Azriel asked, pulling you out of the tug-of-war happening in your mind. 

“Really good,” you smiled back. “Have you considered getting an espresso machine at the restaurant? I think it’d be a hit.” 

He leaned back, hooking his arm over the chair beside him. “But then how would I convince you to go on dates with me across town? You’d insist we just stay at Velaris and I can barely see your eyes under the lighting there.” 

You almost coughed on your drink as you took a poorly timed sip. Damn him and his smooth words. It seemed impossible for your face to get any warmer than it already was, but somehow, he made it possible.

“You are the biggest flirt, Azriel,” you scolded, your tone free-flowing and light to match the ambiance of the cafe

He only hummed in response and kicked forward to brush the hair back that had slipped from your hair tie—both from the wind and you nervously tugging at the stands under his gaze. Azriel’s eyes were alight with adoration as he let it graze over your face, huffing out a small, breathless laugh at the smile you were desperately trying to contain. 

You couldn’t look too into him, right?

“Should probably wear a hat when it’s this cold. And a scarf too.” 

You pretended to think on his subtle admonishment. “I guess I could consider that.” 

“If you want to ride my bike I’m also going to require a thicker jacket,” Azriel added, still leaning in close to the table as he spoke. 

You opened your mouth in shocked offense. “I love that jacket and it keeps me plenty warm.” 

“You’ll be freezing, baby. Can’t have you getting sick, can we?” 

You narrowed your eyes but didn’t argue—mostly due to the effect his small terms of endearment always seemed to have on you. Baby, angel, sweetheart; he used them sparingly, almost as if testing the waters. Or maybe he knew how flustered they made you and he wanted to have productive conversations every once in a while. 

A gentle flow of conversation fell over the table, words punctuated by the whirring of espresso machines and the occasional ding of convection ovens. The blush on your face was permanent and quite embarrassing, but Azriel didn’t seem to be faring much better, his eyes shifting and his hand coming up to run through his hair with every small joke you made. 

At some point, Azriel had concluded that you hadn’t eaten breakfast yet and set off to get you a croissant. You watched his imposing figure in the otherwise quaint cafe as he towered over the barista and politely ordered you too many pastries. “For you to take back to your dorm,” he would tell you later, “I know you don’t have enough food there.”

He placed another kiss on your temple when he returned with the bag and plate, holding your head steady with his hand which was entirely unnecessary, but Azriel always seemed to touch you far more than what seemed necessary. 

“Do you work today?” you asked, digging into the croissant with vigor. 

Seated once more, Azriel responded yes and asked how your food was and stared at you as if eating a croissant was the most interesting thing on earth. Beyond the doors of the cafe, a light dusting of snow blanketed the street signs and filled crevices within the asphalt of the road. Azriel could see the gentle white from just over your shoulder, and once again eyed your jacket on the chair beside him. 

Azriel decided you would just have to wear his jacket when he took you back to the dorms. You’d be swimming in it and protest to no end, but Azriel was usually very good at being convincing, and he wasn’t about to let his girl be cold on their ride home. 

You were none the wiser to the snow or the decisions cementing in Azriel’s head. The music in the cafe had turned up just a few notches, gentle piano the backdrop to the story you were telling, and you were too lost in Azriel’s soft smile to think about anything else. 

[ellecdc]

HI QUEEN 🎀🩷🎀🩷

I literally just atalkws all your marauders fics for like 2 solid hours. You're writing is healing me at this point.

I was wondering if your requests were open? And if they are can I please request a fic that happens directly after the first war (marauders era) and reader has ptsd and maybe got triggered by the smallest of domestic actions done by one of the boys and comfort ensues for the episode and aftermath guilt?

I'm sorry it's oddly specific, just fighting some demons rn and your awesome writing kinda does the trick heheh

please feel free to ignore this one! love u <33

thanks for your request, love. hope things have been easier on you as of late <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader who is struggling with PTSD [1.5k words]

CW: PTSD, post-war, mention of past character death/grief, panic attack, hurt/comfort

The war had taken its toll on all of you; ghosts of the people you lost and the people you all once were haunted you, reminding you of scars both visible and invisible that coloured every aspect of your life.

There were things that the four of you staunchly refused to talk about; Remus refused to speak about his time in the feral packs, Sirius refused to speak about his brother, James refused to speak about Peter’s betrayal, and you refused to speak about what happened when you went missing.

Perhaps there were healthier ways to manage the grief and pain, perhaps you would all benefit from reconsidering those lines each of you had drawn in the sand.

But you were all alive, you were all together, and you had your whole lives ahead of you, and for now, that was enough. 

It was enough until it wasn’t.

It was enough until Remus was sitting on the floor of your kitchen with you pulled into his chest as Sirius hovered in front of you, holding your hands against his chest as he begged you to breathe, to copy his breaths, to come back to him. 

To come back to him. 

You and James had been fussing in the kitchen making breakfast this morning; Remus being wholly uninterested in mornings but very much interested in the two of you had been sitting at the kitchen table in camaraderie as Sirius shuffled sleepily into the room. 

He took the time to admire Sirius’ sleep rumpled hair and the faint lines over his face and bare torso, clearly having rolled straight out of bed before going in search of his loves. 

You were reaching into a cupboard to retrieve Sirius’ favourite mug when he came up behind you and placed his hand at the nape of your neck at the exact moment that James burned himself at the stove; cursing loudly and dropping the pan which landed on the floor with a bang, closely followed by the sound of breaking glass. 

Remus was up from his seat in record time, aching joints be damned, and at James’ side.

“I’m sorry, I’m okay; sorry.” James gritted out, acquiescing to Remus’ probes and allowing him to examine his hand.

“Awe bubs, you got yourself good.” Remus cooed as he cast a quick aguamenti over the burn.  

“Shit, yeah.” He breathed out. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“What broke?” Remus asked then, looking down at the pan that had landed horribly close to James’ feet and searching for evidence of a broken bowl.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you not drop something?” Remus clarified.

James shook his head with furrowed brows. “Just the pan.”

Their bemusement turned to concern when they heard a choked “baby” coming from Sirius’ lips. 

Remus’ stomach dropped as he turned to see you half keeled over, leaning against the counter with one hand at your abdomen and the other over your mouth as if you were suppressing a scream. 

“Is she hurt!?” James asked quickly, moving swiftly along from his own pain.

“It…I- it was me. I-” Sirius started, sinking to the floor in time with you as your legs seemed wholly unable to hold you up in your current state. 

“She’s panicking.” Remus surmised aloud, quickly tiptoeing over what he realised were shards of Sirius’ mug that you’d been procuring moments before. 

“Dove? Hey, look at me.” Remus offered as he crouched in front of you.

You shook your head quickly and sucked in a stilted breath. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my love, just look at me.”

You shook your head again and tried to back further into the lower cabinets as if hoping they would simply swallow you whole.

“I’ll clean it up. I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart,” Sirius pleaded, “we’re not worried about the mess.”

“I’m okay.” You sobbed, sounding anything but.

“I know you are, dove. You’re okay, come now.” Remus said as he finally joined you on the floor, leaning back against the cabinets and pulling you into his lap so that you were fully enveloped in his embrace. “Big breath, babylove, can you do that for me?”

You made a high pitched keening sound and shook your head quickly. “I’m sorry.”

Remus looked over to notice that James had his burnt hand held protectively against his chest while his other kneaded into Sirius’ shoulder as he whispered into his ear.

“Look, dove, Jamie can fix the mug no problem, and Siri’s gonna help you take big breaths, okay?” Remus tired then, stirring both boys into action as James straightened and cast a quick reparo to Sirius’ mug and Sirius shuffled over on his knees to station himself between Remus’ spread legs and in front of you. 

“Can you copy me, baby? Like this?” Sirius begged. “Just like this.”

Sirius pried your hands away from your face and encouraged them to flatten out against his chest where Remus was sure you could feel the hammering of his heart as he took a dramatic breath for your benefit. 

You choked out a few more apologies that both boys gently admonished you for as you tried to copy Sirius’ breaths; they were nowhere near as deep or graceful, but Remus was thankful for your effort nonetheless. 

James reappeared then, his own hand now wrapped with medical tape and smelling strongly of Remus’ healing balms when he held something out for you.

“Angel, can you do me a favour?” He asked extraordinarily softly that it even had Remus feeling more at ease. “Can you hold these for me?”

Remus watched your face as you wretched your eyes open - another ‘deep breath’ stilted by a sob as you looked to him - to see him holding two large spheres of ice that Sirius had for his firewhiskey. 

Sirius kept his hands gently stationed on your arms as you removed them from his chest and accepted the ice from James, still never letting go even as the ice began to melt and drip freezing water down your wrists. 

When your sobs became the occasional hiccups and Remus felt you deflate further into his embrace, he braved a gentle caress of your upper arms in warning of his presence.

“Better?” He murmured lowly into your shoulder, earning him a deep sigh that came out only slightly shaky. 

“I…think so. I’m s-”

“No, no, dove.” He admonished quickly, peppering slow kisses along your shoulder and the column of your neck. “There’s nothing to apologise for.”

“I didn’t mean to cause a scene.” You murmured quietly, and Remus watched as Sirius’ face crumpled.

“You didn’t cause a scene, baby.” He argued quickly. “You were scared; I-”

James made a sympathetic sound in the back of his throat as he wrapped an arm around Sirius and pressed his lips to his long-haired boyfriend’s head.

“Should we not touch you like that, dove? Here?” Remus asked carefully then; dragging a barely-there finger across the nape of your neck and watching goosebumps appear.

“No, that’s fine, I- it wasn’t that I…it was just both and I…I didn’t sleep very well and it was just…”

“Too much?” Sirius offered as James relinquished you of what was left of your ice that had you and Remus damp, drawing circles into your wrists that he still had secured in his grasp.

“Just at once, I’m sorry.”

“Angel…” James chided.

“I am sorry.” You insisted as you looked at James imploringly. “I’ve not been doing a very good job handling my shit lately and now I’ve ruined the morning for everyone.”

“It’s not your shit, baby, and it’s not only yours to handle; we’re supposed to be helping you too, yeah?” Sirius pressed as he craned his neck to meet your eye that you were trying to avoid. 

“And you didn’t ruin anything; you could never ruin anything.” James added. 

You sniffled at that and took another deep breath that hardly shook at all as you leaned further into Remus. “Is your hand okay, Jamie?”

James smiled softly at you before bending down to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’ll be good as new, but I owe Moons some healing balm since I used a whole jar from his stash.”

“I’ll buy it!” Sirius announced quickly, surprising a small laugh from you.

“I’d think not, Pads; I’m the one who used it up!”

“Yes but you’re the one who was hurt, I’m the one who upset our girl.”

“I upset her too.” James countered as they began arguing who had played a bigger hand in this morning’s commotion. 

You and Remus shared a fond yet exasperated look before the two of you stood - on shaky legs after being folded up for so long - and opted to take a warm shower and change into dry clothes.

It may not have been the start to the day any of you would have liked, but you all made it out okay, you were all together, and you had your whole lives ahead of you. 

And for now, that was more than enough.

[lunaticamic]

i don’t know if someone in the naruto fandom already said that but here’s a piece of mind:

sai isn’t sasuke’s replacement or his lookalike. or at least not character-wise.

sai is sakura’s foil

[gyrlliar]

Stress Relief

(short fic; stressed bf x male reader)

(note: hey...hhaaha, hi guys im back but my finals are still happening tmrw, i promizse ill write mure shit, this fic is actual stress relief rn)

Jaeyun groaned as he just realized he didn't review the topics for the finals tomorrow. He looked up at the ticking clock on the wall, 'tick, tick, tick' the clock softly sounded around the empty room. His hands gripped on his desk as he groans once more.

Not from stress, but from you, sucking and slobbering on his meaty cock. It twitched in your mouth frantically, almost signalling everytime that Jaeyun was stressed. You caressed and held his hand everytime you felt it twitch in your throat.

You licked at the base of his cock, the stress making him slightly overstimulated. He bucked his hips into your mouth harshly, cussing out a string of cusses and random topics about anatomy from his lips.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, he threw his head back in pleasure and in frustration. "That's right baby, keep sucking..." He grunted out, his hand hot at the back of your neck as he read his notes on neuroanatomy.

You moaned on his cock, the vibrations from your lewd sounds made his cock spill out more pre-cum. He choked out a groan from his throat, and then finally, for once, he looked down at you and smirked at your watery doe eyes.

"Good boy...you learn so well." Jaeyun praised and cooed at you lovingly, you happily sucked more on his throbbing cock as you hear the praises.

The twitching stopped and his cock was now being plunged somehow deeper in your throat as he started to use you like the toy you are.

He groaned loudly, feeling his high come near, his veiny hands gripped on your hair like a vice.

"Good boy...! I'm gonna cum." He spat out, you sucked harder, almost like you were trying to suck out his cum AND his stress. He smiled at you adoringly at your adorable happy expression.

He finally came inside your warm mouth, the stress in his brows melting away as he relaxed. Your hands were still holding his, he squeezed your hand gently.

His toned chest heaved up and down, he chuckled when you lapped up the remaining cum that was still dribbling from out of his cock. Jaeyun's warm hand ruffled your hair.

"Thank you baby. You really helped me relieve some stress." You both giggled, your eyes shining at each other with love and support.

'Ping!' A notification caught Jaeyun's attention, he picked up his phone and looked at it with hatred as if it had just insulted his boyfriend. Jaeyun's free hand rubbed his temples slowly, his cock twitched up again.

You gulped, he looked down at you. "...I have more topics to memorize, baby..." He said with a strained chuckle. "You don't have to- mm?" He deeply groaned out the last part as you started to suck on his cock like your life depended on it.

Jaeyun sighed shakily, he opened the new documents that his professor had sent. His face paled slightly when he saw that it was 112 pages long. He looked down at you with a stressed look in his eyed and his thick cock twitching frantically.

"We're gonna be here all night."

-

-

-

-

-

(im so gay)

[mad-hunts]

as far as jack could tell, jervis was really out of it; and it made him wonder it was due to something that had happened while he was out with his father, or when they'd gotten here. perhaps both. jack gnawed on his bottom lip, his eyes darting to jervis's hands, which were flexing like he was struggling with something. an eyebrow rose as jack contemplated asking whether he needed some pain medication.

since he didn't receive an answer to his question yet, jack figured he might as well introduce himself. ❝ uhh, well, you don't have to talk to me if you aren't feeling up to it. my sister told me that you fainted in front of her out there — so, i understand if you're still feeling sick. my name is jack, ❞ he scratched at the back of his neck as he continued to observe jervis. whenever the man tried to get up, jack approached him and was about to caution jervis that maybe he shouldn't by lightly touching his shoulder.

but he remembered matilda telling him something about the other really not liking to be touched, so he merely was going to verbally tell him. up until jervis laid back down himself, anyhow. jack couldn't hold himself back from frowning at his poor present state before venturing out of the room with a 'i'll be right back.' and indeed he had been, with two different vials, alongside a few syringes to inject into that IV bag: should jervis want to be medicated. jack figured it'd be easier to just do that rather than forcing him to swallow anything.

he placed those also on the table before tilting his head at the quote jervis had said until it clicked a few seconds later, ❝ that's a quote from through the looking glass, isn't it? and one that the red queen said in the story if i remember correctly. she was basically teaching alice that staying in the same place is falling behind, right? ❞ jack squinted his eyes at that before a thought came to mind. a soft snort left him, but one that was done of an innocent sort of amusement rather than malice. ❝ that is a kind of roundabout way of talking about survival of the fittest. but hey, lewis carroll was all about the whimsy of things, i guess. and its no big deal. ❞

jack pretended not to see the tears that the other shed for jervis's own sake. the blood on his lips was something he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried, though. jack grabbed a washcloth from his pack and held it out towards's jervis's hand. once it was out of his hand was when jack set down that teacup, the slightly too long stripped pants he wore swaying across the ground. ❝ mm, you and dad were both asleep for nearly four hours. sure — i don't think that's silly at all. i keep something on me all the time from when my brother, julien, was still around. ❞ the bracelet he showed the other on his right wrist then seemed to be made up entirely of tiny conch shells.

julien was a big fan of the sea, which jack thought made his death all the more crushing. after seeing the state that the stuffed animal was in, he figured that that bunny must've been really loved; though it didn't really matter by whom it was. the end result was the same, as love changes you. jack knew this well as he'd never wanted anything more than to be embraced by the warmth of it.

he quickly shook that thought off, only to grab the two vials he got from the fridge once more. ❝ eh... the four hours actually went by rather fast. ❞ jack cleared his throat then, ❝ you know, i couldn't help but notice that you aren't looking so hot still, and so i grabbed some meds for you. but i won't force you to take them. i have a pain reliever as well as something that relieves vertigo. are either, or both of these, something you want? ❞

Eigengrau.

A faint hum buzzed in his ears; his mouth was so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a wad of wool.

The thin sheet beneath him brushed his fingertips as Jervis flexed his hands, cracking his eyes open a sliver. The room tilted, everything blurring at the edges. Ah… so he had fainted. Just as he’d suspected. No glasses, then.

"Hey. Ahh, you're awake… That's awesome. How are you feeling?"

The new voice was barely a whisper, young and uncertain—belonging to a boy, maybe sixteen or eighteen by the timber. Was this another of Barton's assistants, a friend of Matilda’s, or perhaps her brother? Jervis couldn’t quite remember; hadn't Barton mentioned something about having more than one child?

He winced, his body feeling heavy, leaden; aching everywhere. Slowly, he exhaled and tried to push himself upright—tried being the keyword. The effort brought only a wave of vertigo, dizzying and blue-hot, making his vision swim.

… ohh, god…

He swallowed thickly, curling into himself. Something wasn’t right. His glasses and gloves weren’t the only thing missing. He was in his socks, jeans, and a now damp charcoal t-shirt, his body slick with cold sweat. His graying auburn curls clung to his neck in tangled ropes. His boots were beside the cot, his messenger bag on a desk across the room. His overcoat and maroon button-down were draped over a chair.

A flicker of discomfort in his right arm. Burning. Tugging.

Jervis glanced down at the source: a plastic tube. A peripheral IV catheter.

"Ah, you know... 'It takes all the running you can do, to stay in the same place,'" he muttered, his voice clipped and hollow; Bermudian accent casual, almost detached. He turned his eyes to the boy; offered him a faint, strained smile. "Keeps things interesting, I suppose... but I appreciate your concern, lad."

He lifted his fingers to his cheek, feeling the moisture trickle down—salt on his lips. Tears, sharp and stinging. Jervis flinched and quickly scrubbed them away with the heels of his hands.

Cold metal pressed into his spine, tight around his neck—the chain with his and Sylvie’s wedding rings twisted against his skin. He must’ve been thrashing in his sleep. There was blood on his lips.

"Forgive me…" His vision swam as he watched the boy set a teacup on the small table beside the cot, just within view. "But I'm afraid I've rather lost my sense of time. How long has it been since I…?" He paused, his voice barely steady. "... if... if you don’t mind, could you please reach into my coat pocket? You'll find a small cuddly toy. A rabbit..." He rubbed his mouth, lowered his eyes. "It sounds foolish, I know... but it... it was my daughter's, you see..."

The boy nodded, moving quickly to retrieve the toy from Jervis’ coat pocket, and placed it on the table beside the teacup. The bunny was missing one of its button eyes, its white fur faded and matted. A pink satin ribbon around its neck was frayed and tattered.

“Thank you,” Jervis said hoarsely. “I must have been out of it for quite a while.”