#this cannot continue but i don’t know how to make it so. all i know is my heart hurts so bad and my head is spinning except not necessarily
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VOTE! DO IT!
(My Guide to Voting of Sorts:)
Early voting is still available in many states for tomorrow, Nov 4, if you are registered! If you’re not sure if you’re registered, check online through your state’s website, or simply go to https://www.vote.org to see if you can still vote, where to vote, if you can vote early, etc.!
YOU HAVE TWO DAYS TO INFLUENCE THE FUTURE OF NOT ONLY THE UNITED STATES, BUT THE WORLD, FOR DECADES, IF NOT *CENTURIES* TO COME.
Don’t think your vote doesn’t count based on your state’s voting trends either—even if you’re sure your presidential vote won’t “count” for the electoral college, VOTE IT ANYWAY!Pennsylvania flipped red in 2016! Georgia flipped blue in 2020! and IOWA could flip blue in 2024! (<link)
ALSO, MAKE SURE TO VOTE STATE AND LOCAL. Up AND down the ballot!!! That’s actually where the most power resides regarding your day to day life, especially state constitutional amendments and local propositions.
You can research your local issues and candidates with many online tools by the way! I prefer https://ballotpedia.org/Main_Page - there is also https://www.vote411.org/ballot , and many others I’m sure if you look it up!
(Quick reminder that these are only tools, as you CANNOT vote online— you MUST visit your local polling station!!)
(Examples of local issues: I just voted on restoring reproductive rights in my state, as well as for a well needed local half cent tax to fix our roads, including my own street, which hasn’t been repaved the entire time I’ve lived there. Better late than never, and—)
Better ON TIME than ever- check your registration, and if you still can, VOTE Nov 5th, in two days at the latest. It’ll be here before you know it!!
Oh yeah, and I’m not your dad, but here’s that old extremely useful quote about fascism that I wish more people deeply knew and understood (plus important context: Niemöller initially symphathized with some fascist propaganda before becoming a vocal critic of those 1930 Germans [idk the censorship trends on Tumblr I’m being cautious, you know what and who I mean]):
“ First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”
—Martin Niemöller
It does not matter who you are now. The definition of “the enemy within” will continue to expand until you—even you who thought you were safe— will be at risk of arrest, prison time, possibly torture, and even death.
Fascism does not stop escalating until no one has a voice except a dictator with supreme power.
No matter what he says, Trump does not care about you. No matter how loyal you are or were to him, he sees you as a number only to clutch power again.
If he sees you as an enemy, he WOULD and WILL kill you- even if he says he would never do so now! I’m deadly serious, and I’m speaking to all past and near future voters here, especially past Trump voters.
Hell, he’s jokingly (but sincerely) said as much 8 years ago: https://youtu.be/qC16c98hDPc?si=hT5VcgRs1pPjTzhy
youtube
This is not about just one issue, even ones most pressing to us in the moment. I disagree with Kamala Harris on many issues, particularly on the U.S.’s foreign policy on Israel, but I voted for her to vote against Trump. And so maybe my voice could be heard in a government that is still intact as it has been since the Civil War, and ideally listens to all of its constituents, or at least *could*, if I am vocal enough, organize with people, etc.
(Also, voting third party, as always, in our flawed two-party system, WILL hand the electoral college to Harris or Trump, depending on the state. (< Link)
I strongly advise you all not to do that, as it is a crapshoot who a third party vote would support.)
My choices for local elections could differ from yours too—politics is complicated.
But I think one choice—for President—is pretty clear this time, if you care about the future of yourself, your neighbors, and your planet.
Even if you never vote for a Democrat again, I advise voting for Harris. Just this one time. This election is NOT a normal one. You and your children’s future are at stake. It’s time to put country first over party, so we even have a country that everyone can safely call home.
Politics is about future moments as much as our current moment.
It is a continuum—
And again, this election will have ramifications for DECADES, even for CENTURIES.
Don’t sit this out.
VOTE.
Your life—and the lives of your neighbors—quite literally depend on it.
Thank you.
(Bonus: my I Voted sticker from the 2022 midterms I still have in my wallet! I had to take the photo at an angle and crop it so it looks a lil funky, but here it is! Democracy in action! I have three I Voted stickers in my wallet now. Man, even on my important voting post I’m a nerd, LOL. Well, my fellow nerds, my geeks and freaks (respectful freaks that is), go vote!!! 🗳️ 🤓☝️🇺🇸💙)
Because I remember disinformation being spread around the last few elections and I’m sure assholes will bring it back:
YOU CAN’T VOTE ONLINE.
YOU CAN’T VOTE FROM YOUR PHONE.
IN MANY STATES THERE ARE LEGAL CONSEQUENCES FOR PHOTOGRAPHING YOUR BALLOT.
DO NOT WEAR CAMPAIGN GEAR TO THE POLLS.
DO NOT TRY TO PERSUADE PEOPLE TO VOTE FOR A CANDIDATE AT THE POLLS.
DO NOT ENGAGE IN ANY KIND OF POLITICAL DISCOURSE AT THE POLLS.
NO ELECTION IS EVER A SURE THING, EVEN IF YOU’RE IN THE BLUEST OR REDDEST OF STATES.�� IF SOMEONE TRIES TO TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN SIT THIS ONE OUT, THEY ARE EITHER IGNORANT OR MALICIOUS.
VOTE.
#please vote#go vote#2024#us politics#usa news#news#world news#election 2024#kamala harris#donald trump#kamala 2024#trump 2024#lgbtq#lgbtq rights#trans rights#intersectionality#human rights#climate change#climate crisis#reproductive rights#reproductive freedom#vote 2024#vote#voting#Youtube
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desiderium.
synopsis: Omega desires you in ways he cannot have you, so he has to make do with what he’s given.
includes: dottore (omega) w/ fem! reader
notes: Omega touches himself while fantasizing about you - so none of this actually happens, he just really wishes it would. Established relationship, oral (reader receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, lots of teasing, posessiveness, he makes you beg and cry, he's a lil freak tbh, reader uses no pronouns, mdni (tell me if I should add anything.)
It wasn’t really a secret that you were the object of the Second Harbinger’s affections. Frequently it would be witnessed by shocked agents the depth of attention you were given by not only the Doctor himself, but also his segments. Hell, you were the only one who could ever interrupt their experiments!
If you asked the Omega segment, there were numerous reasons he could list as to why he found you so endearing. First, your mind was ever so interesting. He loved to pick at it, discover new ways to make you tick or blush. Not to mention how he loved to do research with you. Your perspectives could be quite helpful, especially when compared to the agents who feared opening their mouths.
Moving on, he loved your expressions too. When your eyes crinkled gently, full of love, and when a great smile stretched across your face. Or when you were pouty and ignoring him because he didn’t give you enough attention, though he always knew how to get back on your good side. And your voice, it was refreshing to hear after ungodly hours spent in a lab.
And you - you in general, you were attractive. He had only seen you nude a few times, but he had every spot and curve of your perfect body mapped out and memorized in his mind. Sadly, it was more of a see, don’t touch situation.
It was evident only Prime Dottore had that opportunity.
Your… nightly activities with Dottore were rather obvious to the other segments. There weren’t many explanations for why you would walk around the lab the next day a bit sore with numerous marks around your neck, despite your attempts to cover it up. Prime didn’t need to say anything - his message was clear.
Still, that didn’t stop Omega from desiring you. This was one such moment he found himself fantasizing about you. He had been working continuously for a long time and hadn’t seen you much, so this was a much-needed moment of respite. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair and began to palm himself.
Omega knew you’d feel just as good as you looked - his hands twitched, trying to imagine your skin against his, and so did his cock. He made quick work of his zipper as he imagined how you’d look under him, a common scenario.
He had always wondered how you’d act. There were so many possibilities he could think of, all of which sent a thrill throughout his body. Knowing you, you’d probably be shy about it.
“Omega,” you whined, as your hands half-heartedly tried to stop him from undressing you, embarrassed by his forwardness. For some reason, you didn’t think he’d want you in this way too. “A-Are you sure?”
“Positive,” he purred, intent on seeing you laid bare and all needy for him, his hands already set on squeezing and playing with your soft breasts as you softly moaned. He had only ever heard such cute noises in his head, unfortunately. But he would continue to draw them out for as long as he could, mercilessly teasing you and refusing to touch you where you really wanted him to.
But regardless, all of these scenarios ended with you obediently taking his cock. However, as much as he wanted to be inside of you, he couldn’t forget about how much he wanted to taste you. Yes, your taste, he thought as he licked his lips and pumped himself again.
“Ah, ‘Mega, please…” your breath hitched as he experimentally rubbed his finger over your clothed cunt, your wetness seeping through, “don’t tease,” you fruitlessly demanded as he ignored your plea. Omega would take his time with you, savor your sweetness like he would with one of your baked treats. He was a very patient man after all. (You? Not so much, but you would have to deal with it.)
Eventually, he would slip a finger, and then another, and then one more inside your aching pussy and hold you down as your back arched, pinning your hands above your head as you were insistent on trying to cover your mouth. Your moans were one of the loudest and most accurate proofs of the effect he had on you, and he refused to let them be silenced.
“Now, now, what did I say about that? Try to do that again and I’ll stop.” You could only let out another choked moan and look at him helplessly as he curled his fingers inside of you, and then sped up his pace until you finally finished all over his hand. It was almost filthy how he began to suck and lick on his own fingers that were drenched in your essence, concentrating on tasting every last drop. You wanted to look away out of embarrassment, but you were entranced by the scene, probably because it was just that hot.
Of course, that would only be the beginning of it. There was no way he would be satisfied with just that. Barely giving you a chance to recover, he pried your legs open further to lick and suck at your cunt, relishing in how your thighs squeezed around him - he’d make sure to mark them up some more later. Your hand was tangled in his hair, alternating between trying to push him away from coming too much or pushing him further down on your needy pussy. He didn’t care, either way, your juices would be smeared around his lips as he made sure to lick it all up. By the time he was done with you, you’d be struggling to even call out his name, eyes hazy and too far gone.
As Omega thought about you more, he stroked himself faster until he was almost close. But he had yet to bury himself inside your tight cunt.
It was all too easy to tease you, reveling in how your eyes darted around nervously at the sight of him pumping himself as he prepared to enter you. You licked your lips and swallowed as you briefly wondered how you’d take him. Ah… your mouth too… Omega decided he could brush his cock against your supple lips another day.
The segment nudged his tip leaking pre-cum against your cunt, on the verge of slipping in until he pulled out just at the right moment, teasing you as he delighted in your frustration. He would only ever give you what you wanted if you begged for it, his favorite subject.
“Use your words, darling.” You gripped the sheets harder at his stupid insistence.
“P-Please… please, I want- need you inside, Omega,” your plea came out as a ragged breath, desperately needing some relief already. Unfortunately, your lover only hummed, seemingly unsatisfied with your response, and continued to hold your thighs steady, still pressing himself against your pussy. You huffed in slight irritation.
“Please Omega, just fuck me already,” your words came out speedy and rushed as you sniffed, a tear rolling down your face at how intently he was staring at you with his singular red gem. Finally, a content grin appeared on his face now that he had gotten what he wanted. Perhaps there was still some work to be done, but now even his patience was wearing thin, especially when you had declared your neediness for him so blatantly.
Lining himself up with your entrance, Omega began to push himself in slowly, wanting to drag out both your and his pleasure, and also having the uncharacteristic consideration to make sure you weren’t too overwhelmed. Your walls fit snugly around him, offering him pleasure that he could have never reached by himself. Your legs were hooked around him, tightening as he finally buried himself completely in you.
“Omega… Omega…” you breathed out his name, adjusting to the sensation of being filled with his cock. You moved your hand to intertwine with his (because of course you did, you were too sweet for your own good) and he quickly did so, locking his fingers with yours. Pulling back out, he moved to kiss you which you reciprocated, before slamming back in, your scream muffled by his lips on yours. From then, he pounded into you without mercy, making sure to give every other part of your body attention too, from licking your tears to sucking and nipping at your breasts.
From the way your nails harshly dug into his back, he could tell you were close. He knew his mind couldn’t sufficiently replicate how lovely you’d look once you came on his cock, but he had to try anyway. Picking up the pace, he continued to ram into that one spot and rubbed your clit. He wasn’t far behind - if he had not met you, the segment would have continued to think that chasing such a high with another person was a waste of time. But now that he had you in his grasp, a part of him could understand why the desires of humans overtook their common sense. Logic had no place right now, for you were completely intoxicating.
Snapping his hips into you with one final thrust, he felt your walls squeeze around him as you came hard, his name only a half moan as your throat was sore from too much talking. The feeling had Omega holding back his own noise as he came too, still keeping up a mostly unaffected demeanor although that was far from the truth. Omega remained inside of you for a little while, stroking your cheek as you caught your breath, before pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you.
A perfect sight. A perfect mark. A perfect claim.
As he came to, Omega sighed at the mess staining his hands. It wasn’t as nearly as satisfying as his little fantasy, but it was something nonetheless.
Couldn’t you see? See his selfish need for you, see how his gaze burned into you at particular moments, or how he traced your collarbone for a few moments too long? If only he had a chance, he could give you pleasure beyond what his creator could give you, he’d make sure of that. Any way you wanted it, he’d make sure you’d be blissed out.
… Well, regardless of his desires, Omega had to clean up and get back to work. Maybe if he was lucky, you’d break into his lab despite him telling you he was busy and cuddle on his lap, unaware of his previous pastime.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#dottore x reader#il dottore x reader#dottore smut#genshin smut#genshin dottore x reader#il dottore#genshin il dottore#genshin impact smut#fatui harbingers x reader#zandik x reader#genshin impact dottore#genshin dottore#genshin impact zandik#dottore#dottore genshin#genshin impact x you#divider by cafekitsune
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Mini-me {Love and Deepspace boys}
I can't stop imagining the LADS boys with kids. Mainly because of the "Plushies I gave her; plushies she gave me" trend. I CAN'T, I CANNOT, I DO NOT HAVE THE ABILITY TO CAN XD
Enjoy!
-Seven
|| Masterlist ||
Rafayel ❖· ────── · ·
Rafayel is as much of a child as he is a man
I think that Rafayel would have a son.
Right now, the two of you aren’t planning for another child, but Rafayel wouldn’t say no XD
Rafayel would be super fun and silly with your son
He would be overly dramatic when your son presents a new drawing of craft to him
“Here, papa,” Your son presents a painting of the ocean to Rafayel, “I tried the oil paints this time.”
With a hand at his chest, Rafayel does a big gasp, “What a masterpiece!”
Your son giggles
“I should present this at my next art exhibit!”
Please, as much as he exaggerates his reactions, he would have those painting and trinkets buried with him - that’s how much he loves your son
I imagine that one day as you’re cooking, they’re in the living room and Rafayel has your son’s hand enveloped in his own, guiding him as he paints.
It reminds you of that time in his studio in Greensprings after you promised to see the lanterns together
“What should we add next, kiddo?”
“Hmmm.” Your son taps the paintbrush on his chin, “What about some birds?”
“Heh, like the ones that stole your chips the other day?”
“It wasn’t the birds! It was you, papa!” he jabs the paintbrush at Rafayel’s chest
Rafayel lifts his hands up in surrender, “What do you mean? I’m innocent.” He chuckles as your son pouts at him
More often than not, the two of them are covered in paint, or whatever art supply they used. It ends up to be a whole load of washing for you >:(
Your son definitely loves the ocean just as much as his father.
When you were pregnant with him, he would kick in your belly whenever you were swimming or submerged in water.
As a toddler, he would kick his legs and squeal every time the waves washed over him
Rafayel would have his hands under your son’s arms, stabilising him so that the waves wouldn’t push him over
Now at six years old, he’s diving under, collecting shells and chasing fish,“Momma, look at this shell.” He lifts his small palm carrying a pink shell, his pearly whites beaming up at you as he smiled, “You can have it, momma, orrrrr, maybe I can make it into a paint with papa later.”
It’s late afternoon and your son is knocked out on the couch from spending the entire morning at the beach.
You and Rafayel get started on dinner
Rafayel comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder.
“Huh?” You pinch your brows and chuckle a little as he nuzzles your neck, “What for?”
He takes a deep breath, “I don’t know, just… For our son, for being my wife, I’m just happy, I guess.”
You chuckle lightly, “I’m happy too.” You turn around and pinch his cheek, “A little jealous that he takes after you so much, but happy.” you offer a bright smile.
Before Rafayel can lean in, his arms are jerked away from your waist
Your son is pulling at Rafayel’s arms, “No, papa! Momma is mine!” He’s leaning all the way back, using his entire weight as leverage to pry Rafayel’s body from yours, “Go away, papa!”
Rafayel scoffs, “Yours?” He raises an eyebrow, “Tsk.” He clicks his tongue and hauls your son over his shoulder, Your momma was mine first, you jellyfish!”
Rafayel's fingers jab at your son's sides, and the sound of your son’s laughter fills the kitchen “Hahaha, pa—haha-papa! Stop!” He’s got tears in his eyes but the biggest smile on his face.
“Nope!” Rafayel pops the ‘p’ and continues to tickle him, “I gotta show you who’s the big fish in this tank, pipsqueak.”
You shake your head and put an hand at your hip, the other one pointing the spatula at them, “Alright, enough, or both of you aren’t getting dinner.”
Sylus ❖· ────── · ·
Sylus has a daughter, a son, and another on the way!
He’d spoil them ROTTENNNNNN. I mean, he buys you dresses, gives you his black card to spend as much as you want, what more would he do for your children? Or rather, what wouldn’t he do for them?
He would definitely be the type to let your children learn how to do things on their own, even if they are clearly struggling. He lives by the ‘they’ll never learn if they don’t do it themselves.’ idea - he literally says "I prefer the cold and things that make me strong."
Although, he would yield after a little while when they’re clearly upset and wailing, but more often than not, with some gentle encouragement, he’d get them to figure out how to do it themselves - climbing thing, opening boxed, pulling out chairs, etc.
It gets a little troublesome since they become explorative - he often has to use his Evol to reign them back in. Although, the children squeal in delight when they’re lifted into the air and land in their father’s arms.
Mephisto is surprisingly gentle with your little ones, keeping his claws and beak out of range because it could hurt them, but also because they wouldn’t hesitate to grab it XD
Luke and Kieran are often on babysitting duty so that you and Sylus can go out - Honestly, this is why you have another baby on the way. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Sylus would totally hum to your belly, always off-tune, but he definitely would.
ANYWAY
Today, you’re out on an errand and your baby boy is absolutely crying to bits so Sylus and your daughter are trying their best to calm him down
Sylus has your daughter on his shoulders as he changes your son’s diaper. Your daughter has her hands in his hair as she makes silly faces down at her brother to try and distract him from crying.
By the time you come home, it’s quite late and you find that they are all sprawled out in the middle of the living room floor, toys scattered about and a kids show playing in the background.
Your son is splayed out on Sylus chest while your daughter is on her stomach, across Sylus’ stomach XD
You chuckle a lightly at their positioning
The lack of sleep must have finally caught up to Sylus, huh? You think
As you come closer you realise that your son is awake - he’s cooing with a fist in his mouth, drooling all over Sylus’ shoulder.
With a little difficulty, you kneel down onto the floor to slip your son out from Sylus’ arms. Slow and steady… The last few times you’ve tried, Sylus’ eyes would snap open, on high alert -because who would dare try to take his precious angels.
Anyways, you decided that Sylus probably needs the sleep, especially since you’re pregnant again, he’s been so on edge
You cradle your son in one arm, and with the other, you run your hand through Sylus’ hair - which he subconsciously leans into.
Then, you lean down to place a light kiss on your daughter’s cheek, although leaning down has become a challenge in itself with your growing belly.
With the support of a nearby armchair, you stand yourself up.
You make your way over to the cushioned rocking chair in the corner of the room, cradling your son to your chest to feed him.
Just as he finishes, your daughter’s slowly sits up from where she was laying. She rubs at her eyes and blinks sleepily - a vibrant red, like her father’s, peeking through.
She looks around the room and gasps in delight when her eyes land on you, “Mama!”
She takes a few steps to you and then stops midway to look back at her father. She hurriedly grabs the throw blanket from the armchair and throws it across her father, uncaring of whether it covered him properly or not.
“Hi, mama.” She greets you as she climbs to sit in your lap
“Hi, sweetie.” You gently caress her face, “How was your day?”
“Mmm…” She quirks her lips, “Well, little bubba was crying a lot, like, a lot, a lot.”
You chuckle as she spreads her arms all the way apart.
“But I missed you." She nuzzles into your shoulder, "Daddy did too, he kept looking at the clock.”
Hehe, ever the observant girl your daughter was.
“Aww, I missed you, and daddy, and bubba as well.” You press little pecks to her face and nuzzle your nose with hers to which she giggles. Like tinkling bells in the wind.
Zayne ❖· ────── · ·
I feel like Zayne would have a son and a daughter. Your son would be quite a few years older than her though
Some days, Zayne would take them to work, subtly showing them off to his colleagues
Greyson never misses the opportunity to pinch their cheeks and ruffle their hair, “They both look like a mini Dr. Zayne."
Zayne may have all those awards and trophies lining his office walls, but his pride and joy will always be his children
He may not outwardly express it, but he absolutely cherishes them - reading them bedtime stories, tucking them in with the lightest kiss upon their foreheads
I imagine your son would be very studious, having read most of the books occupying the shelves of Zayne’s office. He would be quite curious, exploring the hospital and asking the doctors all sorts of questions that they themselves do not even have the answers to.
He would be your little gentleman, learning from his father, pulling out chairs and opening doors.
Your daughter would probably be a little shy, always having a fist clenched on her daddy’s clothes or holding onto his hands, or rather his fingers.
Her big brother wouldn’t hesitate to get her whatever she wanted or take her wherever she wishes - your family’s little princess
As much of a workaholic Zayne is, and as much as he wants to provide for you and your little family, he would have no problems lessening his hours to spend time with you and the children
It doesn’t matter how tired he is from a long day of endless surgeries, he would just as eagerly play with them in the living room
“Here, Dad, have a turn.”
“What is it?” Zayne removes his coat and drapes it over the couch’s armrest.
“Uncle Greyson bought it for us.” Your son leads Zayne over to the living room table.
“Uncle Greyson, huh?”
Your son brushes over the comment and continues to explain the little toy, “You have to take these plastic organs and bacteria out without touching the edges or else it beeps and his nose flashes a red light.”
Ever the steady-handed surgeon, Zayne takes them all out without a problem.
“Daddy,” your daughter clutches at the fabric of Zayne’s dress shirt. “I want to try.”
Zayne beckons her over to stand in front of him where he can support her little hands holding the plastic forceps
On the off chance that you are not with them, Zayne would get them sweet treats on the way home
“It’ll be our little secret.” Zayne whispers, with a finger pressed to his lips
your son and daughter giggle in their seats and happily gobble up spoonfuls of the dessert
It isn’t long before they all start having toothaches and receive a scolding from you
On family vacations, you all end up in a cabin up in the mountains of Snowcrest (at the request of your sweet little angels)
Zayne is more than happy to teach them how to snowboard,
Much to your surprise, as your daughter grew older, you found that she was quite proficient in snowboarding
But there used to be times where Zayne made them little tiaras and crowns of ice and built little ice castle with them using his Evol
Xavier ❖· ────── · ·
Sleeps as much as your newborn son, if not more, and your eldest son has inherited his father’s incredible appetite.
When you’re not at home, Xavier nearly burns the house down trying to make food for them, so once your son was old enough, he opted to learn how to cook - having his father as an assistant because, you know… they need supervision or something XD
Xavier would definitely read them bed time stories
His voice is so soft and mellow, they would fall asleep so quickly
Not much of a surprise considering that Xavier falls asleep at the drop of a hat
But on days when they have nightmares, Xavier would use his Evol to create little bunnies and flowers that float around in their bedroom
and when sleep finally overtook them, he would tuck their blankets around them and whisper,
“Sweet dreams, my little starlight.”
Most days, in your lounge, your younger son would be crawling all over Xavier as he laid on the floor.
“Arghh, the monster’s got me.” he would jokingly say.
Your older son would then come in with a cardboard sword, gently tapping his little brother on the back to slay the monster
Xavier cradles the young one in his arms, “And the hero has saved the day once again!” He lifts the infant up into the air and receives a toothless smile.
“Just like you and mommy!” Your son beams down at Xavier, sword and shield still poised, “You keep us safe from all the wanderers, right? I wanna be just like you and mommy.”
Xavier just smiles - the kind that crinkles the corners of his eyes, “Well, we better start training, huh?” Xavier ruffles your son’s hair.
Although he may not be as well-off as Sylus, he definitely would do his best to spoil them, bringing them to amusement parks, buying them little star lamps for their bedrooms, taking them to the arcade and playing kitty cards with them.
One time, you all went on a holiday to this guest house in the forest. When you asked him how he knew about this place he replied with:
“I befriended the uncle that runs this guesthouse while I went fishing that one time.”
Xavier would take them hiking, showing your sons the most scenic views in the forest
when night time came, all four of you were laying down on a blanket, gazing at the stars
Today, he’s taken you to a cherry blossom park. He’s got your eldest son on his shoulders, and your little one in a baby carrier at his front.
Your eldest son is reaching up trying to grasp at the pink petals some of which fall onto your youngest’s head.
Xavier quickly lets go of your hand, which he was holding, to brush them out of your baby’s face. (he’s using the other one to stabilise your son’s leg over his shoulder)
Just as quickly, he grasps your hand once more.
You squeeze his hand lightly, “Let me take the carrier from you, Xavier.”
“No, it’s okay.” He quickly refuses, “I want to carry them both. It won’t be long before they’ll be too big to do so.”
AHHHHAAA, I'm finally finished with exams, so I'll be able to write more often. Yahooooo ~(˘▾˘~)
But brooooo, the Lads with KIDSSSSS I CAN DIE HAPPY
-Seven
|| Masterlist ||
#fanfic#fanfiction#lads x reader#LaDs#LoveandDeepspace#L&DS#Deepspace#Otome#Datingsim#Deepspacehunter#LaDsxReader#LoveandDeepspacexReader#Sylus#SylusxReader#QinChe#Mephisto#Luke#Kieran#LukeandKieran#Crows#CrowTwins#Onychinus#love and deepspace#lads#lads sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you#xreader#x reader#love and deepspace x you
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Where My Affections Lie
CrownPrince!RE4R!Leon x AFAB!Maid!Reader
word count - 2.6k
tags - MDNI, not proofread, slight angst, p in v, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), fingering (f!receiving), soft dom/sub undertones, creampie, missionary, begging, aftercare, generally vanilla sex
the crown prince, Leon, grapples with his princely duty to marry the princess of the neighboring kingdom in order to secure a political alliance with both lands, even if his heart belongs to another− you.
Leon enters your quarters, shutting the door and sliding the lock in place behind him. He looks crestfallen and defeated, his dejected face worrying you. He takes your work-hardened hands in his smooth ones, pressing kisses and nuzzling his face into the warmth of your palm as he looks up at you with tear-glossed eyes. He sets aside the linens you were folding, recently picked from the clothesline first thing in the afternoon. Unlike your princely lover who could indulge in personal interests and other idle hobbies, nearly all your days in serving his family are spent busying yourself with chores and domestic duties; up until he had come inside to seek comfort in your presence, you were occupied with folding newly dried sheets before sending it upwards to their personal housekeepers.
“What’s the matter?” you gently ask him, cupping his teary face nearer to yours.
“The king and queen,” his voice nearly cracks. “My parents, they will marry me off to the princess of the neighbouring kingdom in a month. I am due to meet her at the end of this week and shall be gone for two nights.”
The breath never makes it past your lips, lodging itself in your throat to form an uncomfortable lump that accompanies the sunken feeling in your chest and the tears that begin to blur your vision.
“It is purely for the interest of politics, for the economic well-being of our kingdom,” Leon continues though he sounds far from pleased. “Father has cut ties with the trade of our previous ally, much to my contempt. No matter what I say and how much I beg, nothing will change their minds. A ship is on its way to deliver the message now.”
The king’s speak is the law and you know that there is no denying his wishes unless you wish to lose your head. If Leon, the crown prince, couldn’t get him to retract his statement, what more can a lowly maid do? You set aside the ache of your own heart, putting Leon’s emotions first in this gutting moment in both your lives.
“Leon, it’s all going to be fine. I’m sure she is rich and beautiful,” you point out with a feigned smile.
“That is nothing if I cannot have you,” he responds. “I care not for material riches when you are far more wealthy in the love you spoil me with. She is not you so I could care less about her. She will never be you.”
“The kingdom needs you, Leon. We are all relying on you for our prosperity,” you quietly say. “It’s best you follow the king, this is for the good of your people.”
Leon shakes his head, his blond fringe swaying along with the motion. He dips his head, eyes downcast to his bare ring finger.
“I don’t wish to stop loving you, my dove.” He confesses in a voice so broken.
“But you’ll hurt her,” you retort. “She is your wife, my future queen, and I am but an ignoble servant. She will bear your children so you must love her, as fiercely or more than you have loved me.”
He shakes and cries into the crook of your neck, saline tears leaving dark circles on the fabric of your garments as his arms hold you close to himself.
“It’ll be fine, Leon. I forgive you and I always will,” you whisper as you pat the soft hair at the back of his head. “It must be done.”
You had more words to say but it dies down at the base of your throat, the lump growing more uncomfortable as tears of your own descend as you both share your griefs in the tragedy of your circumstances.
After a delicate silence spent tearfully, Leon pulls back and stares into your eyes with fervour as if he is committing every blemish and groove of your face to memory.
“Fuck it,” he whipsers beneath his breath.
Light and careful hands cup your cheeks as if your face is made of glass, drawing your face near until your lips connect. The kiss is gentle and careful at first, no more than the tender smacking of lips and stifled noises accompanied by low smacks but the passion and desperation grows tenfold; his hands find themselves groping and grabbing, warm tongues coming to meet in the middle to engage in a passionate tango amidst hot puffs of breaths. Leon breaks away and plants damp kisses on the side of your lips, trailing it down your neck and making its way into your collarbones. His fingers fumble around behind you, fervidly undoing the laces of your clothing.
“Take these off,” he damn near growls. “Rip it, just rip it.”
You reach behind you to try and undo it swiftly but your lover has gone impatient, the sound of fabric ripping reaching your ears as your back is exposed to the air as he shoves the remainder of the torn clothing down, exposing your breasts.
“Leon!” You yelp in surprise.
“Need you,” he breathes in between clumsy pecks to your lips. “Need you now.”
He backs you into your bed, gently setting you down before climbing on top of your pinning you down with his enveloping weight. His kisses are bold and sloppy, desperate for more of you as teeth clack and grunts increase in volume. Your hands untangle themselves from his locks, gliding down the ripples of his muscled back and down to his trousers as you try to shove it down. Taking your hint, he rises up for a moment and undoes the button before shucking it down along with his underwear. His cock springs out, slapping into his abdomen right underneath his navel; his tip is flushed and glossy, covered in a thin layer of his arousal. Veins deliciously adorn the shaft like vines, the sight before you making you all the more hot and bothered. You sit up as Leon lies down, back resting against the headboard as you bend to eye-level with his erection.
“Please,” he begs. “Just…– ah, fuck.”
You interrupt his begging in the most heavenly way possible with your lips wrapped around his tip, gently giving cautious sucks before you take more of him into your mouth and start bobbing your head up and down. Spit dribbles from the corner of your mouth and glides down his girth, making Leon painfully harder if it was even possible.
“F-Faster,” he chokes out as his hips twitch. “Faster… yeah, jus’ like that.”
You pull away for a moment to catch your breath, a thin string of spit connecting you to his cock. You wrap your warm hands around him and form a tunnel, gliding it up and down his length at a pleasurable pace while you look at him through lidded eyes.
“F-Fuck,” he whimpers as his back bows from time to time. “Ah, ple–please, please. F-Fuck, faster!”
Shlicks resonate through the room, growing in speed as you pick up the pace with your hands. His face tightens and his balls flex, signaling that he’s right over the edge when you pull your hand away for a moment before replacing it with the wetness of your mouth again.
“Faster, faster–ngh–faster!” He chants in a whiny tone as his hands cup the back of your head as he urges you on. “Mine, y-you’re… hngh… mine! A-And I’m yours– all yours, p-please!”
He shoves your head down a little rougher, catching you off-guard as warm spurts of his cum shoots deep inside your mouth. Throaty whines and moans accompany his bliss, throat exposed as his head is thrown back in a white-hot ecstasy. He releases his hands from your head, letting you pull away as you take a breath. He’s still hard, angry cock pointing to the sky as it kicks in desire for more of you.
“Get on your back for me,” he pants in a low register. Sitting up, he crawls over you to lay down. “Let me return the favor, like a good lover does.”
You lift your hips up for him as he unbuttons your lower garments and slides it off of your legs before haphazardly tossing it to the floor as he focuses on his desire right between your legs. The sunlight filtering in through the window illuminates your soaked pussy, bathing it in a tantalizing glow.
“She’s crying for me and I haven’t even touched her yet,” he thickly chuckles to himself as he parts your soaked folds with his thumb, earning a weak mewl from you.
“Touch me, Leon. “ You admit in a hushed tone. “Please.”
“I’m going to need you to be a little louder for me, my queen,” he breathes against your inner thigh as he noses your sensitive clit.
“Leon,” you drawl. “Please! Please, just touch me.” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment at hearing yourself beg but you’re given no chance to bask in it before he dives in and plunges his tongue. “Leon!”
He positions your legs to rest against his shoulders, his arm encircled over your hips to gently rub soothing circles against your skin as he laps and licks like a mad hound. He looks up at you, the throb in his weeping cock aching even more powerful as your cries of his name reverbs throughout the room with no regard for who could hear.
“Good girl,” he purred as he plunged his right index into your eager hole and used his left thumb to stroke your pudgy clit. “Good fucking girl.”
“H-Harder,” you breathed as your velvety walls clamped around his finger. “L-Leon…”
“Gotta give my girl what she wants,” your lover breathes as he withdraws his finger to add another one and plunge it inside again. “You hear yourself, love? How she’s so needy for my cock?”
“Fuck!” You curse, writhing due to the overwhelming pleasure that runs through your body. “Ah! T-there, Leon– there, don’t s-stop!”
Your moans increase in volume and pitch, growing more feral and raw with the need to chase after that high as he relentlessly rubs that gummy spot you love.
“That’s it,” you hear him say. “Don’t be quiet, have to let everyone know who I love. Let the princess know, yeah?”
You feel empty again, only for his mouth to engulf your wet sex. Your mouth parted to make way for a primal groan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel that knot in your abdomen tense up for an incoming release.
“Louder baby,” Leon says with a smug smirk. “Let them know how good I treat you– ugh!”
He groans as his eyes shut as you tug on his face forcefully, shoving your pussy into his face as your body shakes with the shockwave of pleasure that crashed over you.
“Leon!” you breathe as you keep his head in place between your legs. “Leon!”
You chant his name over and over again like a prayer, screaming in pleasure as you feel his tongue kitten lick your clit. Your body relaxes, your fingers releasing its vice grip on his hair as your legs fall apart and free his head.
“Are you still with me?” Leon asks as he presses gentle kisses to your cheeks.
“Yes,” you pant as you direct his lips to yours. You hum with the taste of your slick, still not satisfied with being devoured alive alone. “Wan’ more, dove.”
“Good,” he darkly chuckles. “You want me now?”
You nod feverishly, coating his erection in your slick and his spit as you grind despite your overstimulation.
“Fuck,” he hisses as he lines himself up. “Tell me you want me, please, love. Tell me you want me so bad.”
Your hands gently push his hips down to yourself, easing his hot cockhead into you. “I… want you so bad, Leon. So fucking bad.”
“T-That’s it,” he encourages you as he pushes himself in slowly. Despite having made love with him more than twice, his cock still stretched you out like you’ve never taken him before. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
He stills to let you adjust to being stuffed to the brim, occasionally huffing grunts when he feels your walls pulse and constrict around his sensitive cock. Once you give him the go-ahead to move, he moves his head to watch your face scrunch in pleasure as he begins to rock his cock in and out of your soaked pussy.
“I love your whines,” he chuckles. “Fuck, what a slut for me– only me. You’re mine,” he rasped.
“Yours!” You choke out as you drag your nails down his back, certain that it will leave red streaks that would certainly sting later on. “Yours, L-Leon!”
The grind of his recently-trimmed pelvis provided a delicious friction as he drove himself deeper into you, the bed creaking with each thrust.
“L-Love… you!” Leon keened, punctuating his words with harsh slaps. “So fucking much!”
Leon is temporarily taken aback by your hands moving to both sides of his sweat-soaked cheeks as you drew it nearer to yourself and captured his lips in a hungry exchange of passionate-fueled smacks as he delivered more thrusts of growing intensity. He felt his heart drop at the fact that he will need to consummate his marriage with the princess he will soon marry, a dark cloud coming back to trouble his mind, but the feeling of your teeth and tongue on his neck brought him back to the present so he pushed those negative feelings away for now, focusing on how snug your pussy envelopes his cock and how pretty the marks you’ve left on his neck and collar bones are. He does the same, moving your face to the side to paint your neck in reds, purples, and light indents of his teeth on the flesh.
“I’m g-going to cum,” Leon whines against your ear. “F-Fuck! This sweet pussy’s m-made just f’me.”
“Leon!” You exclaim as you cling onto him even more as if he’d be ripped away. “L-Leon, I-I’m going t’cum!”
He knocks the breath away from your lungs, back arched and chest pressed against him as your finger nails embed crescents into his shoulder blades. You weakly gush some more of your juices around his length, velvety pussy rippling around his cock.
With a throaty whine of your name, he holds you close against him as he delivers the last thrust before he shoots his warm spend inside you. He only puts a halt to his shallow thrusts when you tell him to stop as the pleasure is now bordering on discomfort. Ever the caring boyfriend he is, even in times of steaming passion, he looks after your wellbeing. He pushes hair away from your eyes, gently rubbing your cheeks as he adoringly whispers your name while he tends to you first.
“Does anything hurt?” He asks. “Did I cause you any pain?”
You laugh, tucking a long strand of sweat-dampened hair behind his ears. “No, my love. You made me feel happy today, like you always have. Stay with me for a little longer, Leon. I wish to rest with you,” you softly ask of him as you lift your covers to your chest.
“What about cleaning yourself up?” He asks.
“That can wait. I need you now,” you respond. “I meant it when I screamed that I needed you, Leon. I said it with my heart.”
His heart pinches in his chest, unfortunately brought back to the grim reality of his situation but that can wait so for now, he lifts the covers over both your bodies and stretches his arm to let you rest on it, stroking your hair until you fall asleep with no plans to leave despite what awaits him.
NOTE - hi guys!! i decided to try my hand at writing smut so if this isn't the best smut you've ever read, i'd like to apologize because this is my first time!! though it was certainly full of me giggling mid-writing coz i found my situation lowkey funny, i actually had fun but i don't think i'll be writing lots of smut :) i decided to post this to check out the flexibility of my writing skills so this is pretty experimental. i won't be super active in here because my main is @leonw4nter :) i also decided to start a ko-fi [still fixing some things up] in case anyone wants to drop a tip but please, please, please do not think that i'm forcing you to give me some money-- it's just there as a grander form of showing appreciation but likes and reblogs get me going already :) anyway, that's it and thank you for reading this <3 let me know what you guys think in the comments, i'd love to hear your thoughts <3
#dividers by adornedwithlight#dividers by cafe kitsune#leon kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#resident evil#leon kennedy x y/n#leon s kennedy#re4 remake#resident evil 4#resident evil x reader#resident evil smut#resident evil x you#smut#afab reader#leon s kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x y/n
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I Am Forever Yours (part 1)
Day 1: Gentleman
Summary: Lucien is his gentlemanly self. Of course, not without being a rake.
•○●⛦●○•
Word Count: 1111 (lmao)
Warnings: none, just lucy being a delulu girlie 🤭
A/n: lol it wont be like my if i posted stuff that arent series for character weeks loll. happy @lucienweekofficial to all my fellow lucien simps, i love you all hehe.
(also i wouldnt say he is very gentlemanly in his thoughts, but we all know he wouldnt be 😏)
anyways, ENJOY🥹
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Lucien stood by himself against the wall nearest to the refreshment tables, quietly humming along to the rising tunes of the violins from the opposite corner, eyeing the couples twirling around the dance floor. If he cared, he would have opened a dancing class just to teach the men how to dance. If he were the one dancing with them, he would be so embarrassed.
The women though. They were the embodiment of grace, elegance and poise, so beautiful and twirling like they were born to conquer dance floors.
Alas, Lucien could not do anything to bring them justice except for cursing their partners.
With that depressing thought, Lucien moved away to set his empty glass on the table when someone bumped into him, jerking him forward and making the glass shatter as it hit the floor. Lucien looked at the broken glass, then turned away to look at the perpetrator who led to its demise, and did a double take.
Wide, frantic eyes moved to meet his after surveying the crime scene of the murdered glass, and blinked at him when he did nothing, as if she had expected to be yelled at and he had surprised her.
Her cheeks shimmered lightly under the lights emanating from the numerous chandeliers hanging from the carved ceiling, her shoulders pushed back and enhancing the look of her collar bones. Just the sight of those made Lucien swallow hard.
Who is this goddess?
While Lucien had been busy ogling the lady who clearly hailed from a high family clearly given away by her dressing, an older lady sharing the same hair and eyes appeared, glaring. "Y/n Jade, I cannot believe you would be so clumsy. Do you need to go back to school?"
Y/n?
Definitely moanable-
Fuck.
Pretty, Lucein told himself he meant to say pretty. Pretty name for a pretty lady.
The older lady turned to give Lucien an apologetic glance. "Forgive me, sir, for my daughter has begun to lose her mind." With a scathing glance at Y/n, she continued. "How are you enjoying the party? I haven’t seen you around much. Are you from this city?"
Lucien offered her a polite tilt of his lips. "Yes, though I prefer to travel. I work under my father as his emissary."
Lucien figured this lady did not know of his parentage, and he would love for it to remain that way.
"Oh, that’s wonderful."
Lucien could see the gears turning in the woman’s head, and he wished he had a glass of drink in his hands so he could hide his smirk behind the rim. Even not knowing that he was the youngest prince, everyone wanted their daughters to marry this fine specimen of a gentleman.
And why would they not, Lucien wondered. He was everything anyone could wish for, if just slightly cocky.
Not cocky. Just the slightest bit self assured.
"Well, I fear I must go hunt for my husband to make sure he isn’t making a fool out of himself. Y/n, why don’t you give your new friend some company while I search for your father?"
The lady, who by now was clear was Y/n’s mother, turned away and strode off, leaving Lucien to look at Y/n, who rolled her eyes. It amused Lucien to no end.
This was new.
"So… how old are you?" Lucien mumbled, trying to get rid of the stagnant silence between the two when it became clear that Y/n found the numerous chandeliers and the arguably bad dancers more intriguing than Lucien.
She only spared him a glance before turning her gaze towards the orchestra. "Twenty two."
"I’m twenty five."
She hummed in response.
"Your name is Y/n?"
Finally, she heaved an exasperated sigh and shot him an unamused look. "Yes, I would have assumed that was clear by now."
Lucien blinked. No one talked to him like that, even when he acted like he was one of the lowly townsfolk when he travelled to avoid attention.
"I- I’m Lucien."
"Did I ask?"
He stared at her a moment, eyes widening before dipping his head, fumbling for the first time in his life when talking to a lady. "I… I just thought-"
She snorted. "Stop thinking then."
He nodded dumbly, trying to focus on the strings of the instrument that was leading the song currently playing, the shine of his boot, the crunching glass under his toes, anything to stop himself from focusing on this lady who was thoroughly uninterested in him.
It made him want to interest her even more.
"You’re from which family?"
"Oak."
The favoured advisor of the king would be her father then.
"Y/n Jade Oak? That’s a pretty name."
"I know."
Lucien inhaled, deciding that if he wanted to get a reaction out of this ethereal creature who seemed to not know how to give any reaction other than unbothered, he would have to tell her something she wouldn’t expect. "I’m from the Vanserra’s. The king’s youngest son."
And as Lucien watched her, his eyes unwavering in hopes of catching even the tiniest bit of reaction, he almost nearly cried in joy when he spied her lips twitching at the corners.
"Look, I can do nothing about that. I’m not the one you should be complaining to. Maybe try your mother?"
It took Lucien a moment to comprehend those words, for he was too busy staring at her lips that still retained that slight tilt. And when he did, an unexpected laugh burst out of him. Once he finally got himself under control, he met her surprised eyes, and she blinked at him, as if him laughing was something that had not even crossed her mind.
"My, you’re funny." He grinned, shaking his head. "Are you by any chance engaged?"
She still watched him as she shook her head. "No. They usually decide they’re way too good for an uncultured lady like myself."
He raised a brow. "Well, as much as I want to give my condolences, I simply cannot say I’m sad for you, considering they have just made me courting you easier."
For the first time, Y/n’s composure faltered. "What?"
He offered her a lazy grin as he extended his hand to her, and after a moment of consideration, she placed hers in it. "I would like to court you. If that’s okay with you, I will like to talk to your father right away."
She searched his eyes, then dipped her head in the barest of nods. Lucien smiled, brushing his lips against her knuckles before he straightened.
"Then let’s go find your father, my lady."
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
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clover would be nice to bugs, i think.
they don’t crazily save every insect they see, nor do they keep a census of lives rescued. this isn’t that kind of story. not at all.
but when they come across a beetle on its back, legs cycling through air like broken clock hands, there is no internal debate about morality, no performance of kindness for an invisible audience. they simply reach down, right what's wrong, and move on without waiting for thanks.
all those tiny lives that others casually swat at or sweep away. the spider rebuilding its web for the third time today, patiently reweaving what was thoughtlessly destroyed. the ant dragging a crumb twice its size across an endless expanse of floor. the moth fluttering desperately as it searches for a way back to the light.
more often than not, clover stops.
again, nothing ceremonial about it. no fanfare or fuss. just a tender hand extending a leaf to bridge a gap, or a solicitous finger nudging a fallen to safer ground.
they'd probably be cracking terrible puns in their head, something about giving beetles a "turn" for the better or how “moth-ers” know best. it stays there. tucked away with all the other small jokes that no one else will hear.
clover understands. they know what it feels like to live in spaces where you’re not wanted, to move carefully, noiselessly, hoping that the larger, more powerful beings in your world might just pass you by. they know exactly how heavy a careless footstep can be. you can see it in the way they move through the underground. this perfect quietude, like they're walking between raindrops.
it’s the kind of placidity born of understanding that survival sometimes translates to being so quiet that even the air forgets to stir around you.
being small doesn’t make you less deserving. powerlessness doesn't make you wrong. occasionally, the truest form of justice is simply making space for others to exist.
and clover would know.
their life on the surface was hardly rich with comforts or attachments. it was a life of static-laden tv shows, dishes washed with nary a nod, and spaces that felt more borrowed than lived in. they know what it is to go unnoticed, to be treated like something inconsequential, a minor nuisance at best.
more presence than person, clover has lived off scraps and donned garments stitched together with hope and necessity. they'd understand, better than anyone, what it means to exist underfoot.
it feels so natural, so right, to imagine clover giving a bug a second chance. where others see something disposable, clover sees something familiar. just trying to live. get by.
not a saint by any stretch, they’ll “borrow” what they need without asking. still, they’ll mutter a soft “excuse me” to a ladybug flitting too close, and still they'd find the time to guide a caterpillar out of harm’s way with a scrap of paper.
they'd choose to handle the fragile and easily breakable with care and fairness, for mercy matters most when it’s offered to those who cannot demand it.
the world has a way of teaching its smallest inhabitants to expect cruelty—to see a hand coming down like judgment, a step as an unthinking end. to know that to exist while small is to always be one breath away from being deemed an annoyance, a pest.
the bugs are blissfully unaware of their reprieve. they don’t realize that someone paused, saw, and judged their lives worthy of continuing. clover never needs them to know. it's not why they do it.
clover permits these lives to continue without condition because being bigger doesn’t confer more importance. having strength doesn’t mean it must be used to crush the small. that wouldn't be fair now, would it?
and i like to believe this compassion for little critters isn’t so separate from their pursuit of justice; it’s part of the same whole.
justice isn't always the thundering declaration people expect.
justice here wears a shabby hat. walks without sound. respects a balloon's privacy and even waves it goodbye.
justice can very much come in the form of realizing that the most revolutionary thing you can do in a world that worships its own thorns is to be solemnly, persistently kind and just.
even to the things that everyone else would much rather squash than spare.
especially then.
#undertale yellow#ut yellow#uty#clover undertale yellow#undertale yellow clover#clover ut yellow#ut yellow clover#clover uty#uty clover#i'm deathly afraid of bugs by the way#clover is so brave#anyhoooow this is my attempt at characterizing the goober#hope i did em Justice (HAHAHA!)#sorry cloverheads (i'm one of u) if i totally didn't#headcanonish#yep. that's the word
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♔Silent Serenades preview- Part Ten♔
An arranged marriage with Duke Gojo
Part Ten Will be out around Nov 8-10th <3
SPOLIER ALERT- Do NOT read if you have not read Part Nine
Masterlist
“I for once am honest, after a month of lies. Feel my heart.” He puts your little hand on his chest, and you feel it, pounding, making you weak, as your eyes lock upon each other.
“It cannot be true, not a word. If you felt that you would have never!”
“I grew to feel it more and more. Now it’s consuming me, whole, I’d let you walk all over me just to feel your goddamn step. I’d let you destroy me just to watch your pretty face as you do. I would do anything to see you smile, to see your face as you feel pleasure, to taste you, to-”
“Fuck, shut up, shut up!” You shove at him now, and he lets you, gulping and staring at you so pleadingly, this six foot plus man who looms so tall, seems so small and fragile. “I hate you more for saying it all! For making me believe it!” You cry out hoarsely, and he lets you smack at him, nodding, just standing there.
“You should hate me, you should never forgive me.” He whispers sullenly, and you hate that you want to forgive him, that you want him to…
“Hold me, please.” You beg softly, and he breaks with you, holding you tightly against his hard body, enwrapping his strong arms around you, as you bury your face against his chest, crying in earnest.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I will spend every moment making it up, as much as I can, before you leave.” His voice is a hoarse whisper, and you realize then, you don’t want to fucking leave. “I know I have lost you, I know I never had you.”
“Satoru.” You lean up, looking at him now, and he brushes your endless tears with his long fingers, gulping and nodding for you to continue. “I’m not saying I will stay, but I will say… I have not yet made up my mind to leave, either.”
He blinks then, with those teary lashes, sucking in a breath, his blue eyes swirling as they study you. “You haven’t!?”
“No. Not yet. It does not mean I forgive you, or even like you. But it does mean that… I wish to understand you more, to understand this more.” You take his hand, feeling the thrumming energy between you both. “I will give you that chance, the month, to show me who you are, before I decide fully.”
“I thought I had no chance. I thought you couldn’t wait to leave.” He whispers, and you take a shaky breath now.
“Well, you are trying, and I see it.”
“It’s not too late?”
“I do not know yet. Do you mean it, what you said, about seeing me, seeing me truly?”
He laughs softly, brushing your hair back tenderly, kissing your forehead, something you never thought Duke Gojo would do. “Oh, Princess, I mean every fucking word. I see your heart and soul, the kindness, but you know what I also see? Your bad mouth, your ability to destroy me with a look, your snappy little remarks.” He says with a little smirk now.
You smile a bit then, and he smiles down at you, pressing you further into the desk, and you feel your body react quickly. “Oh do you enjoy that, the way I wreck you with my words?”
“I’d let you wreck me in every fucking way.” His hand slides up your skirts now, and your breath quickens. “You’re strong, you’re not some simpering little damsel, you could probably crush me, kick my ass.”
You giggle now, then his hands pause on your bare thigh, fingering your garter belt, and your pussy reacts by clenching around nothing, your head falling back, a little sigh escaping your lips. “Kick your ass, you’re too big and tall.”
“You’re a scary little thing, I think you’d kick me in the dick.” You laugh again, and he marvels at it, his thumb making little circles closer to your heat. Your own hands slide up his chest, as he makes you feel more seen than anyone ever has, and how does he see you so well?
“I was sorely tempted after that whore on the table.”
“You and that tablecloth move? Fuck that made me hard.”
“You’re always hard, you slutty man.” Your fingers drift down to his belt, toying with him, giving him a little smile, and he smirks, his free hand cupping your face.
“I would do anything to feel you again, even knowing I do not deserve you. Give anything for you to sit on my face.”
Your tummy clenches, face flushed at the lewd, insane images he brings. “Sit on your face!? I… what!?”
He sighs, kissing you gently, finding you with his fingers finally, moaning softly as he does, you drink up his moans into your mouth. “I’ve had this fantasy of your thighs on either side of my face, pussy dripping on me.”
“Satoru that… sounds insane!”
“You could shut my mouth up, use me how you want. Ride me.” His words destroy you, his touch on your clit makes you moan, and he’s watching you hungrily, lips parted. “Fuck you’re beautiful. So wet, I want it dripping down my face.”
“We shouldn’t do this.” You whisper, but your hips are leaning forward, to more of his touch, Satoru’s lips hover just above yours, and you embarrassingly hear how wet you are when he’s rubbing between your lips.
“You shouldn’t give me anything, but you do, and I’m too selfish and greedy not to drink up every bit of it. Of you.”
It's coming soon, dear masochistic readers!
Taglist : @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions @chiyokoemilia @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @peppertoastuniverse @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka @labelt-san @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jjknanamin @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @valleydoli @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy @webshooterrr9 @miizuzu @thikcems @erensblackwife @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @airandyeah @jaylenezzz @blue-musingss @huuuhwhaat @teacupwaifu @makingtimemine @saccharinesatoru @sunnyviewsblog @nanananananaiknow @spookyblackhottie @ekaterinatepes @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @szna
#gojo x reader#jjk smut#duke gojo#satoru x reader#gojo smut#arranged marriage#slow burn#enemies to lovers#silent serenades#story preview#current wip#satoru gojo x you#jjk x reader
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a recollection of bellflowers — h. rindō
content. fem!reader, slice of life, implied/referenced infidelity (not by you or rindō), non-linear
word count. 7.4k
note. this is something i’ve been working on for a while because i have no idea how to write rindō . . . >< i wanted this to have a summery shōjo feel to it, so hopefully i was able to capture it well enough ?? (also, sorry, this is a little unedited.)
i had to force myself to finish this or else i would end up forgetting about it again ! there’s only three parts to this, however, updates will be sporadic :x
part one / from summer, 1999
Your fiancé has a lover in Tokyo.
He doesn’t tell you, you never ask, you just know — a woman’s intuition is never wrong. Something you learned from your dear mother.
Two nights ago, while you are both lying beside one another in bed, he complains that he has yet another business trip in Tokyo [his last one was just a few weeks ago], he asks if there is anything you would like him to buy — like that dessert you find yourself indulging in a little too much these days, a new novel to add to your collection of unread books that you swear you will get to them eventually, a new set of coffee mugs or a bouquet of your favourite flowers. You tell him, “No, it’s okay. I don’t need anything.”
He doesn’t press when you decline. Instead, he leans down to capture your lips with his before he leaves; the wind rushes by, chilling over the spot he had touched. His “I’ll miss you” never reaches you, carrying with it the ghosts of your past. His “I love you” completely passes you by. Ever-so-fleeting.
It’s been this way for a few months now. You don’t know when it first began, but the signs became more and more obvious as the days passed by. Rather than sadness or anger, you don’t really feel anything anymore. Only regret remains. Those memories and promises you both made together are beginning to fade. And what seems to make your heart shake is that you don’t know what to do, despite change and abandonment seemingly always following after you. Time and time again. Even after all these seasons, you are still lost.
When summer burns, or when fireworks spark up the midnight sky, you feel it on your tongue and skin as the same memories fill your mind once again. That summer night by the river’s edge. And summer nights following that — all of them are unforgettable, always leaving you feeling the bittersweet taste of citrus and honey drowning in the back of your throat. Too sweet, too sour.
No matter where you are in the world, a spirit of a little girl clinging onto the sandbox of an old playground remains in Roppongi. Abandoned, yet not once forgotten. Your flesh, blood, and bones will always be made up of Rindō and Ran from way back then. You hold these memories deep in your heart so preciously like a collection of little treasures as you continue to grow older.
A quarter before midnight, the moon is down and clouded by the fog; you take the train all the way to Roppongi. It’s strangely empty inside, you cannot see what lies outside. Tired and uneasy, the sound of the midnight train running across the tracks lulls you to sleep.
—
You are eleven when your mother drops you off at your grandfather’s house all the way in Roppongi during the summer; miles away from the countryside you grew up in. She doesn’t wait for your grandfather to open the door to come and greet you. She yells out how she will see you in a few weeks, the engine roars, and she is gone.
You have never met any grandparents before. Your mother doesn’t like to talk about them, so you never ask, not wanting to overstep the invisible line (she is scary when she is in a foul mood). You learn to be a good child because you want to see your mother smile again — she stopped smiling for months now, and you don’t know why. However, you believe she will feel better once she picks you up in a few days.
After all, adults need their rest as well (or something like that).
You soon also learn that your grandfather is a tall, scary man. A seemingly permanent scowl, a low and gruff voice that is only heard through a few words. A strong scent of alcohol lingers on the collar of his shirt – one you sometimes smell on your mother’s breath – he looks at you so emptily, then sighs. The chill in the air prickles against your exposed skin, you gulp.
No matter how silent of a man he is, you are a good daughter, so you introduce yourself to him and thank him for letting you stay with him — “I’ve always imagined meeting you, grandpa. I saw you in a picture before!”
These words seem to catch his attention. His tracks stop, he doesn’t look back, and all you can see is his wide back. You hear him mumble something beneath his breath, you don’t catch any of the words — you weren’t meant to. Something sticks out about your grandfather. Something you can’t help, but focus on is his missing a pinky. You try not to stare, and he doesn’t say anything when he catches your innocent, curious eyes. Rather, he doesn’t say anything at all to you and you can’t help but become overly sensitive to every draw of his breath.
You wish you were back home in that little countryside town, tucked far away from this bizarre place. You want your mother to come and pick you up.
You would rather be at home with her than here.
—
Surprisingly, you got more sleep than you expected last night. This is your first time sleeping in a bed that doesn’t belong to you; in a place that is so foreign to you.
And you guess it wasn’t so bad. The mattress is a lot softer than the one back at home.
Breakfast is simple and traditional. A bowl of steamed rice, fried mackerel with a side of nattō (you don't like the smell, but you try your best to swallow the beans without making any faces, and fail). The mackerel on your plate is neatly pulled apart, bones discarded, and you smile to yourself. Your grandfather is more attentive — kinder than he looks. Your teachers have always told you and your classmates to never judge someone based on their appearance.
“Um . . . Grandpa?” Silence is met with your call. However, you take that silence as a sign to continue speaking. “Can I, uh, may I go outside for a little bit?”
“There’s a park nearby,” he simply replies with a few words before directing his attention back onto the television.
Your eyes brighten. “Okay, thank you!”
Quickly shoving down your breakfast, you’re out the door and ready to play.
So, your grandfather isn’t the greatest at giving directions. After some twists and turns and walking back and forth, it is not too hard to find the park he vaguely described.
There's a group of kids playing on the playground, dangling off the monkey bars and sitting around. Too shy to approach, you shuffle over to the swing set, and rock yourself back and forth.
After some moments of swinging, and looking back at them to your feet, you hear a bunch of footsteps heading towards you.
You look up in anticipation and nervously smile at the group of boys in front you. Maybe they want to join you? [Hopefully.] “Um, hi! Did you want to—” Your words are immediately cut off as someone steps right in front of you.
“Get off.”
“H-huh?”
“H-huh?” A boy mocks with a high pitch tone and your cheeks heat up when you hear laughter surrounding you.
“Get off so we can play,” this one stands in front of you, hair short with a red cap in his hand. “You can hear properly, right?”
Someone says, “No, I don’t think she can.”
Another laughs.
The short-haired boy glares at you, hand reaching over and tugs on your hair — hard. You yelp as your hand immediately wraps around his wrist. “We told you to move, so move,” he harshly shouts and you flinch as your ear rings.
You don’t understand why they’re mad or why they are telling you to leave. This has never happened to you back at home before.
You yell at the boy to let go of you, pushing his arm away as hard as you can. However, this action only leads him to pull hard this time. You yelp. The group breaks out into snickers and grins.
Traitorously, your body betrays you as tears gather in the corner of your eyes. You don’t want to cry — you don’t like crying, never wanting anyone to see your tears. But you feel so helpless and lost and alone.
"Hey, wait, you're gonna make her cry. . .” Someone speaks up and for a second, you’re hopeful.
“I’m not even doing it hard. She’s just being a baby,” the short-haired boy scoffs before he accuses, “why do you care? You like her?”
His face flushes, and beneath the thick frames of his glasses, his widened eyes shake. “No way!”
“I bet you think she’s pretty.”
The boy gags as he takes great strides away from you. His arms cross over his chest as he yells, “Gross. Over my dead body.”
“Oh, is that so?”
It’s a voice that comes out of nowhere, causing you to jump. Colour drained from the faces in front of you; awfully, sickly pale.
And it comes fast all too fast — someone running in between you and the group of boys with a flying fist. Another one and another one. Colour falls from your cheeks mirroring the group and unlike them, you find yourself unable to move. To run away. You think you see a drop of red splattered on the concrete as you tightly shut your eyes, your body shakes and you cover your ears in an attempt to block the sound.
Someone cries. Screams, shoes smacking against the pavement, and laughter — one both loud and taunting. Then all of a sudden, everything goes silent. Hesitantly, you slowly open your eyes. Purple fills your entire vision. You jump at the sudden close proximity, you can feel their hair tickling your cheek as he leans in close to you.
There’s glass covering purple gems.
The boy asks, "Are you good?”
You slowly nod, “Thank you for, um . . . helping me?” You say this rather confusingly, unable to comprehend everything that had happened within minutes. You take a step back as you look around, you don’t see any of those boys from earlier. They vanished as if they were never here, the footprints made in the sandpit and droplets of blood remind you otherwise.
Your eyes fall towards his hands that punched those bullies — knuckles all red, you bite your lip to conceal your quivering lips. You turn to the taller boy with no visible cuts or bruises, only a smug grin on his face that matches with the one in front you, and you thank him as well. When you take a better look at him, you notice the two of them sort of look similar.
He looks down at you and waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Those guys were lame for ganging up on you. They always pick fights with people weaker than them.”
“Right, those idiots got what was coming for them,” the other boy adds with a laugh. “Are you not from around here?”
You shake your head.
“Thought so. Haven’t seen you around here before. So, what’s your name? I’m Rindō, and that’s my older brother, Ran,” the boy – Rindō – introduces.
You tell them your name and thank them once again.
“Uh-uh. Just tell us if they bother you again. We’ll deal with it,” says Ran.
You perk up, “You will?”
“Yeah, Roppongi belongs to the Haitani brothers.”
Roppongi belongs to the two boys who don’t seem older than you. Confused, you ask, “Are you guys protectors or something? Like heroes?”
Your words are met with snorts that evolve into laughter. Beside you, Rindō gives you a toothy grin as he readjusts his glasses. “I guess if that’s what you think, then sure.”
The heroes of Roppongi.
The sun is shining and his smile glows.
Meeting the Haitani brothers was probably nothing special, a similar story that could be told by countless people during their youth. However, to you, an eleven-year-old girl being picked on at the playground, helpless and tear-stained, they seemed like your heroes. So bright and blinding. A moment that changes your entire life.
—
Ran and Rindō have come to knock on the door to your grandfather’s house nearly everyday since then. When the old man opens it to see two unfamiliar children, he sighs before calling out your name (which makes your heart jump from your chest from how loud his voice can be). And you’re quick to slip on your old running shoes and bolt out the door.
Rindō tells you he found a cool place the other day, a hidden room at the back of an old shrine, and he wants to show it to you. Keeping up with the Haitanis is hard; chasing after them is even harder. Their legs aren’t that much longer than yours, but their strides are far too long, too fast.
Rindō is kind enough to slow down, only for a moment. “You’re too slow,” he complains before grabbing your hand and pulls you along to keep up with them. Without noticing, you don’t trip over your own feet anymore.
“Careful, Rindō,” Ran lowly warns as his hand reaches out and wraps around Rindō’s wrist, pulling him away from walking up the stone steps. The tall, red torii gate looms above. A crow lingers at the very top. “Don’t you know young children get spirited away here?”
“Huh? Spirited away? Like the movie?”
“No, no. Not the film, Rin,” Ran snickers at his brother’s words, you don’t understand what Ran finds so funny. And Rindō doesn’t seem to know either, but his face is red and he looks mad at Ran. “The legends. Haven’t you heard that the yōkai will come and snatch you up? They take away children who run off alone. They’ll come to get you, dummy.”
Rindō shakes his head, staring up at his brother with skeptical lavender eyes. “No way. You’re just trying to scare me again. I won’t fall for it anymore, nii-chan.”
“Nuh-uh, ‘m serious this time.” Ran says this so lightly, it sounds unconvincing.
Rindō's glare hardens as he crosses his arm. “Okay. Why are you such a liar these days?”
“Am not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No—”
You block out their childish bickering — they always seem to do this. It’s always Ran who seems to start it. And through their yelling, an old memory flashes in your mind. Your head perks up in remembrance as you gasp.
This garners their attention because they both immediately stop their “argument” and turn to look at you.
“Wait, it is true! I heard that Tomoko-chan from the class next door visited the shrine last summer and she never returned . . .” you pitch in with the eerie rumour your classmates had whispered to each other last year — Tomoko-chan got taken away by a monster. Those words reach to the end of the long hallways and snuck into the wooden panels in the room. Kids at school don’t go anywhere alone now.
In the distance, a crow caws.
So, you learn something new: monsters also live in the city. They don’t only reside in the little town you grew up in. Monsters exist everywhere in the world.
The brothers send each other a look, one that you don’t understand, something only they know — only them. You watch as they communicate through stares alone before turning their attention back onto you.
“Really?”
Quickly nodding, you add, “Yup, it’s true. I swear. Everyone said so. She went to make a wish, and then disappeared. Her family isn’t even in town anymore.”
Ran lets out an exaggerated sigh. He crosses his arms with a half smile to his face. “See, I was looking out for you.”
“Right. Don’t you think you’ve been lying too much to me lately? At least, learn to make it believable.”
Ran laughs before quietly saying, “If you’re scared, just say so.”
The crow above the gate caws, careful, you glance up at the noise, to the long steps then to Ran, and then Rindō, who looks up at his brother clearly unimpressed.
Obviously, Rindō isn’t scared of ghosts, or yōkai, or monsters that eat children. He is already too old to believe in things like that. He protests and says this, despite you and Ran telling him otherwise, Rindō is skeptical. He says he still doesn’t believe you, he can’t believe you would make up a lie and follow Ran, and you tell him you would never lie to him or anybody. Only bad people lie.
However, the Haitani brothers are closer than anyone — they told you this when you first met, so it’s to no one’s surprise when they turn around and gang up on you instead. Because you are scared, or so Rindō insists. Ran says it’s okay because you are a girl and you’re just a baby compared to them. It’s true, you are scared of the yōkai who snatch away wandering children. You aren’t scared because of the reasons Ran says. It’s rather annoying how Ran calls you a baby for something like that.
(You don’t tell him that, though.)
The three of you don’t enter the shrine. They show you around the neighbourhood and some spots they like to hang out at, like an arcade and a newly opened ramen shop. The entire time, Ran holds both of your hands tightly, you are sure he is holding Rindō’s even tighter. Your shadows are overlapped, mixing together. The yōkai don’t come for them or you. You are safe together.
As the sun begins to set, you stop by a food stall, the old lady running it tells you that you look so pretty and you remind her of her granddaughter. She gives a discount — 100 yen for six pieces. Ran takes out the coin from his pocket and he divides the takoyaki between the three of you before heading home.
It’s quiet when you enter the house, nobody welcomes you home, but your grandfather sits in the living room watching television again. He spares you a glance, before turning his attention back to the t.v. Static and muffled voices fill the house.
—
A week turns into two, then three. Summer passes by quickly here in Roppongi. Everything moves so fast in the city, it’s exhilarating — overwhelming. Your little body struggles to keep up.
You run, run, and run the days away.
Again and again, you fall.
(Rindō and Ran pick you back up.)
“My mom abandoned me,” you tell Rindō one afternoon, weakly adding in, “. . . I think.” Hopefulness seeps through; a child’s innocence, your naïveté.
Underneath the big oak tree, Rindō turns to look at you while opening the blue ramune and gives it to you to drink first — he was supposed to buy two, but he forgot the rest of his change at home. He says it’s fine because he doesn’t mind sharing his drink with you. He shares drinks with Ran all the time. And you don’t mind it either.
“. . . She will,” he slowly replies, “maybe she is just busy working — adults are like that, y’know. What about your dad?”
Adults are like that, at least the ones you know. Your mom is probably busy, but either way, she lied to you and this is what hurts. You don’t try to hide your disappointment in her.
You shake your head, looking down at your swaying feet. “I don’t know.”
You really don’t know.
You don’t remember his face, eyes, and everything is blurred, but you recall his boxy smile and a heavy hand that ruffled your hair.
“I haven’t seen my dad before either. I don’t even think that guy knows I exist.”
“Oh,” you breathe out. “Are you lonely without him?”
He shakes his head, hair bouncing with every movement. “Nah, I have Ran. Even though he’s so annoying these days.”
The two [three] of you are similar in a way. It’s rather comforting knowing you aren’t the only one with a family like that.
Rindō vows to you that he will always be by your side so you aren’t alone anymore, because he has Ran, but you don’t have an older brother like Ran to stay with you.
He holds your hand — one so cold and sticky from the blue ramune. Again, he tells you that you still have him and Ran, because you are his best friend. Maybe he thinks you didn’t hear him the first time. His words are warm, so you don’t mind his cold fingers touching yours — it cools you down from the heat, even if the rest of your body is melting under the summer sun. Somehow, it always finds a way to peek through the little gaps, through the spaces between your fingers.
Together, you finish the ramune with lighter hearts.
At the end of summer, you are still at your grandfather’s house — your mother never comes to get you. That little, big, tiny feeling brewing in you all summer in Roppongi turned out to be right. But you aren’t alone.
Time flows quickly in Roppongi. Months pass by in a blink of an eye.
—
Coming home to the city where everything first began leaves your thoughts in a flurry; too jumbled and twisted. This house hasn’t changed one bit, walking into your old bedroom feels like a dream; both familiar and alien. A few of your old belongings still remain in place, you never have it in you to pack it up and bring them with you. Your mother hasn’t bothered to move them either.
Tonight, you help your mother make katsu curry. A staple in many households; also, the first dish you learned how to make.
You can feel your mother’s nerves as today is the day where you are officially meeting the man she is seeing (whom she had once mentioned as her new colleague over a year ago). He seemed like a normal, stand up man, but you can tell she likes him, so you don’t disapprove of him.
To calm her down (as well as your own excitement and nervousness), the two of you make small talk as you cook.
“Did you love him?”
You immediately stiffen, the knife stops just above the fresh carrots from your mother’s garden, and you don’t press down. She doesn’t say who, but you already know who she is referring to. Your heart aches without the mention of his name. A boy who isn’t your fiancé. Your soon-to-be husband. “Did you love that boy from back then?”
Your face shines in the knife, the glare of the light above makes your reflection disappear. You force yourself to focus, continuing to cutting the carrot into chunks. The sound of the knife hitting against the cutting board echoes in your ears. “Why are you mentioning that? Why are you curious about it now? It’s been too long since then.”
“I used to think you would end up marrying him in the future.”
The sentence has you turning around in surprise. You harshly swallow, forcing a short laugh. Your heart clogs your throat. Emotions twisting like ebbing waves. “You never even liked him,” your voice doesn’t sound less tense.
“Maybe I didn’t, but you did.” Her expression says nothing — no hatred, regret, or sadness; she is only looking at you so clearly — right through to your leaking heart. All you wish is to run and hide from that all-knowing gaze of hers, you wish you never turned around. “For some people, they are only capable of loving one person their entire life. There’s a saying that nobody forgets about their first loves and for those people, sometimes their first love lasts forever.”
Some people, she says. By this, she means you.
The ring that sits prettily on your finger feels too heavy, squeezing your finger.
“. . . That already ended so long ago,” softly, you say.
The doorbell rings, cutting through the tense atmosphere. There’s an exchange of looks — her expression soft as she offers a small smile of condolence.
The man – Mr. Hajime – arrives earlier than expected. You follow behind your mother as she opens the door and you see bright red roses before you see him. Your mother’s cheeks turn red as she bashfully smiles while accepting the bouquet.
He enters the home and when you meet his eyes, you smile and nod in acknowledgment. Mr. Hajime stops in front of you, pulling out a bouquet with a variety of flowers; of blues and whites.
“Thank you,” you say as he places the flowers in your hand.
His smile is awfully gentle. His eyes match that gentleness, too. An old, loving soul. “No, I should be the one thanking you. It’s nice to finally meet you. Your mother often talks about you.”
You smile as a reply.
You wish to know what she has said. And maybe you will ask him another time, you know you will. There’s no doubt you will be meeting him again and again.
Mr. Hajime moves with familiarity in the house as if he has been here many times before (you wouldn’t doubt if he has). He makes his way to the dining room as he turns on an old song on your grandfather’s beloved record player. You don’t know the title, but you remember hearing it play many times back when you were a kid. It sounds so nostalgic.
As the three of you eat dinner, a younger image of your mother and you eating in silence overlap, and the bittersweet feeling at how much your mother has grown begins to hit you. Despite her fading black hair and the grays that replace them, and the barely noticeable wrinkles around her eyes; the look in her eyes seems younger — happier.
You’ve never seen her like this before. Her heart races for her — her love for Mr. Hajime and the happiness he brings to her. You’re happy for her, you really are.
This street and this house bring back so many memories; memories of times that will never come again and new ones are being created. And even more in the future.
Nostalgia continues to devour you. Your heart is aching in many different ways.
—
A year passes by, you don’t hear from Rindō or Ran after a few weeks of sending letters back and forth, and occasional phone calls made on your house line when your mother works overtime on Saturday nights.
Ran had warned you beforehand that he doesn’t do handwritten letters or phone calls or emails [whatever that means], you think he may just not want to talk to you, and strangely, you don’t take much offence in it. Like Rindō has always said, Ran is Ran, he does things his own way. Plus, you had already assumed you would hear updates on Ran from Rindō, however your assumption turns out to be wrong.
Tons of calls and letters left unanswered. You send another one, your final letter to him.
2002 年 4月 22日
Hi Rindō,
I know it’s been a while since my last letter and I haven’t received one back from you either. I make sure to check the mailbox twice a week! I really will be upset if you don’t reply or call me this time for real.
The new year started recently and I’m being forced to join a club this time. Kaa-san is still busy with work, and she comes home exhausted, so I decided to join the culinary club. Coming home to a cooked meal is something everyone likes, right? I am not really confident in my cooking skills though. . .
I miss you and Ran a lot. It’s lonely here without you guys. I hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I won’t forgive you if you did. Write to me soon, okay? I want to know what you have been up to.
And it’s no shocker when there’s no response to it.
Your initial bitterness eventually fades into nothing but nostalgia.
As the years go on, you forget all about the Haitani brothers and Roppongi. Their faces become more and more blurred with each passing month. You must’ve been erased from their memory — a little childhood memory too dazed to remember.
Junior high is harder than it seems — making friends doesn’t come easy, you spend the majority of your time alone. But ever since you joined the culinary club in your second year, everyone there is friendly and supportive, and things begin to change. School becomes a little more fun, and sometimes, you don’t mind waking up so early in the morning.
You find yourself trapped in the middle of a circle. All eyes on you. Ones full of anticipation.
And of course, this could only be one thing — gossiping. They talk about love stories, first kisses, and boys. Unfortunately, the target today is none other than you.
“No, I don’t have a crush on anyone," you firmly state. It’s the third time this week you've been asked this question, you don’t understand why everyone is so curious.
“Ehh, don’t lie!” Sachiko playfully nudges you with a giggle. Eyes piercing into yours, and you inaudibly sigh at her skepticism. You don’t budge when she continues to push and she pouts. “Fine, fine. What about Naoki-kun from the baseball team?”
A chorus of ‘Ahh’s’ and giggles erupt in the room. A telling sign of the boy’s popularity. Even someone like you, who doesn’t care much about boys [yet] knows about him. From what you heard, he spends most of his time practicing baseball and he only dated one girl during his first year for only a week. He’s more serious than he seems, yet he gets along with everyone, parents and teachers included.
He’s good-looking. You aren’t blind, you know this much, but you don’t think you like short hair so much — even if Naoki-kun’s short hair suits him quite well. Still, you end up timidly agreeing with your club members, wishing to get this over with. “Mhm, I think Naoki-kun is kinda cute . . .”
"Oh my gosh . . .”
“Ah, I knew it,” someone says. “I mean, most girls like him, so it’s obvious, right?"
You never said anything about liking Naoki-kun in a romantic way, you just said he was kinda cute (you guess). You just shrug and the topic moves onto how a student in the grade below you had caught the new teacher from class 2-b and the principal on a date. Your married principal. A classic love affair. The rumour echoes down the streets in the town, forever spiralling.
And in the early morning of May, 2003, your mother enters the house again and you think she may have forgotten something before heading off to work. Instead, she tosses a letter on the kitchen table. She says it’s for you. It’s plain. A white envelope with no decorations — you immediately know it’s not from one of your friends from school and your heart races in anticipation even before you grab it. You flip it over to see if it says who it’s from.
And it does. It’s a letter sent from Roppongi — a letter from Haitani Rindō.
Time slows and your heart beats loudly in your ears. The wind leading into summer suddenly doesn’t feel so slow; the morning birds chirp in tune of your heartbeat.
It was already the end of June, you blow out your candles. Another June goes by and you graduate from junior high.
—
You are sixteen when you meet Rindō and Ran again.
They surprise you at the train station, and when you see them, you don’t recognise them at all. It feels like you don’t know who they are. They’re suddenly a lot taller, more mature with matching tattoos and dyed hair that you don’t see people your age with — and to their defence, they have always had dyed hair back when you first met. There’s an intimidating air to them which draws you in. An edge you should look out for. One step and you will fall.
Your grandfather has also changed — barely, but you can see he looks a little smaller than you remember him to be. Older, too. There’s wrinkles around his eyes and mouth — ones due to his permanent frown. Yet his eyes feel warm, they soften when he looks at you.
Ran doesn’t really hang out nor talk to you anymore. During your trip there, he spends most days out and sometimes Rindō tags along with him, in which you stay at home with your grandfather or go shopping. And when you first caught them with bruises on their faces and torn skin on their knuckles, you cried. Catching them two and three more times didn’t make it any better.
You knew from first glance that Rindō and Ran are what people call delinquents, you aren’t blind when faced with the obvious. It feels strange seeing your childhood friends like this — the violence indulge in.
(You couldn’t believe it when you first learned the reason as to why you haven’t heard from Rindō in a long, long time. It’s still hard to believe, but when you see them like this, you can’t refuse it.)
It gradually builds into a routine, always finding yourself in the Haitani home while their mother is away at work. Forcing Rindō down onto his bed as you clumsily clean up his wounds, shaky, and unable to look away. Fretting over the way they’ve been hurt like a mother to her children (this is how their own mother probably feels coming home to be greeted by bruised faces). A burned cd of his favourite songs plays in the background. Quietly, because you’re both afraid of Ran waking up.
“Stop looking at me like that.” His tone is anything, but harsh. His sigh is heavy, yet soft. “You gotta stop worrying at this point. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
You immediately frown as you glare up at him. “I worry because you don’t.”
“You know it’s not as bad as it looks. Can barely feel a thing. You’ve got nothin’ to worry about.”
You quickly retort, “It is . . . Why do you keep saying that? Every time I see you, you are injured. That’s not normal.” Growing more frustrated at his lack of self-care, you softly glare at his tattered hand. You mumble, “What are you and your brother even up to?” More so to you, than to Rindō.
However, he hears you. He laughs, more rather airy than his usual boastful one. “Aren’t you too nice?”
“No, I’m not,” you mutter. “Something like this is normal.”
“I guess that means my world isn’t so normal. I don’t know anyone else like you.”
Those pretty amethyst eyes draw you in. You shake your head, replying, “You will meet others like me. Caring about someone who is hurt is nothing special. It’s . . . it’s human to do so.” You hold his hand carefully in yours, inspecting the cloth to make sure it’s securely wrapped. Thumb brushing over the fabric.
“There’s only you.”
The room falls silent. The track slowly fades into the next. Your heart races.
Rindō coughs into his sleeve. “Um, I meant that I only know you. The guys I know aren’t really like that at all.”
It may be your mind playing tricks on you. The way he looks and sounds — his every gesture feels too tender to be Rindō. It’s odd, not him. Your eyes must be playing tricks on you too because the look in Rindō’s eyes seems too gentle and intimate. You look away.
“You have Ran, who cares about you a lot,” you point out, eyes looking anywhere but at him.
He quietly chuckles, “Yeah. That’s just Ran though. You know how he is.”
You vaguely reply, “I guess so.”
“You know so.”
“Everyone knows so,” you softly add, “just take of yourself more. Please.”
You lift your eyes for a split second, and he meets you within it. Rindō softly smiles, “Okay. I will, so you won’t cry anymore.”
You can’t look at him for too long without feeling your face flush, it gets too hot, and the unfamiliar feeling of butterflies that invade your stomach, pooling, itching to explode whenever he smiles at you. He makes you so nervous and you don’t know how to react. You’ve never felt this type of nervousness with someone before.
“I don’t cry.”
“I sure hope you won’t.”
You don’t know how to act.
That night, once Ran awakens from his nap, the three of you decide to hang outside. Roppongi is not similar to the countryside in any shape or form and you’re no longer surprised to see the city awake during these late nights. This city is always brighter after midnight.
Rindō had run off to the nearest konbini for drinks due to him losing three rounds of rock-paper-scissors [really, who actually chooses rock], and you and Ran are squatting down by the riverbank with sparklers burning in your hands. Rindō will probably be annoyed that the two of you started without him the second he ran off, but it’s Ran fault if anything. He’s the one who made you grab the sparklers and lit them himself.
However, Rindō wouldn’t be surprised by this, because everyone knows how impatient Ran can be at times.
“Y’know, on summer nights like this, the main character and her love interest would light sparklers together—” Ran begins to say with his sparkler dangles above yours, burning so fast and bright, “—and they will become stuck together. It stays like that, and that is usually when something in their relationship changes. . . I saw it in a shōjo anime before.” He pulls the end of his sparkler before his and yours get the chance to become tangled, and smiles softly at you. Ran looks pretty — prettier than most celebrities you see on television and magazine covers. He’s probably popular with girls.
And you assume, Rindō, too. He’s definitely no less popular than his brother. This thought immediately makes everything feel sour, your smile falters and you look back down at the sparklers. A pile of ash building below. The flames are bright, rushing into your eyes and leaves your head dizzy.
It’s quite beautiful; the way sparks flicker and dimming ashes fall around you. Vanishing within moments it hits the ground.
“You learned that from a shōjo anime?”
He replies with a shrug. “I mean, yeah. It’s a popular trope these days. I know you girls are into those types of things. Quite romantic, hm?”
You nod and don’t try to hide your smile. You didn’t think Ran was into anime like that. You didn’t know he was a romantic type of guy.
“Don’t laugh,” Ran scoffs. “You’ve become quite rude, huh.”
“I’m not! I just thought it was cute,” you huff in defense.
“Uh-huh.”
He rolls his eyes in which you mockingly repeat back, and you both laugh.
So, Ran is a little different these days. He’s all grown, almost unrecognisably so. But he is still your friend — there is still the Ran you knew back then there inside of him. And you think, he and Rindō could probably say the same about you. Change is inevitable, it comes hand-in-hand with growing up.
“So, this is something you do with someone you love. . .” you mutter his words to yourself. “Why aren’t you doing it with someone you love—well, uh, have you?”
It’s silent. A croak of a frog, a call of a cicada. His answer lies in his silence and it’s sad to hear, because beneath everything, Ran is someone with lots of love to give. It’s unfortunate how he’s never once liked to wear his heart on his sleeve, hidden away deep in a metal cage. He is a nice guy, really. So sweet to Rindō — sometimes towards you.
Ran shakes his head, redirecting the conversation to you. Something he always seems to do. “Why aren’t you?”
You . . . ?
Attentive with the eyes of a hawk, Ran picks up on your confusion within seconds. He tells you not to mind his words which only makes you feel more lost — heart racing. You think Ran knows something, but you do not know what. The unknown is always terrifying and you want to know.
Ran wants an answer that you cannot provide. Beginning to feel warm underneath your thin clothes, you grow anxious under his heavy stare, yet can’t find it in yourself to look away.
His eyes drift for a second and light from the sparklers fall in. He looks back at you, then cocks his head in the opposite direction. Curious, you follow his line of sight — Rindō.
Immediately, you take this opportunity to run. You hand the remains of your incense stick to Ran as you jump up, dusting off the dirt and ash that may have gotten on your clothes. Running up the stone steps, meeting him halfway (you pay no mind to Ran who yells that you got dirt on him). Your shadows reach before your bodies do, overlapping underneath the flickering lamp post.
“Rindō! Why’d you take so long?” You ask while leaning in, folding your hands behind your back. His blond locks are messy and sticking to his forehead instead of styled in his usual fashion, red cheeks and his chest is raising up and down as he breathes. “Did’ya run here? You’re looking a little red . . .”
He lets out an exasperated sigh, visibly annoyed with a prominent scowl on his face. “This idiot in front of me was taking his sweet fuckin’ time,” he replies, his glasses shift down his nose bridge and you reach your hand up to fix it. However, before you can, he grabs your wrist (a sudden yet gentle gesture) completely stopping you.
You awkwardly mutter, “Um. Sorry . . . ?”
Rindō blinks before letting go of your hand, shaking his head. “Ah, no,” he clears his throat, “I got it. Thanks.”
Opening the plastic bag, he holds a bottle of ramune towards you. The little spot he touched burns, and it’s then when Rindō asks you what’s wrong because you had suddenly froze in your movements. “Did you want a different flavour? I think I saw a strawberry one left,” he offers, “or you can take my drink. It’s beer, though. You don’t drink, right?”
“No, no. I like it. I prefer the original one,” you decline as you take the drink from his hand. Fingers brushing against his cold ones. “Thanks, Rin.”
“I do, too. It’s my favourite.”
His favourite, yet he had replaced it for some cheap canned alcohol — he and Ran aren’t even old enough to drink, but you don’t really care, either. Things like that strangely suit them.
You bite your tongue when you almost reply, I know. However, you do respond with a brief, “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s a necessity on summer days, y’know?”
You can’t help, but agree. “That’s why I like it.”
“Yeah, I know.”
And you wonder if Rindō remembers everything that happened the summer the both of you first met — you do. Those summer days spent underneath the shade side by side sharing melting popsicles and ramune, running around Roppongi and challenging each other at the arcade games. Aiding new cuts and bruises that appear on the brother’s bodies, Rindō would place a bandaid on your hands and knees every time you had fallen down trying to catch up to them, and whispering secrets only meant for the two of you to know [ones Ran comes to know, unsurprisingly]. You miss those summer days, and you don’t want to see the end of this one too.
Days with the Haitani brothers are unforgettable — so special, a feeling nothing can replace. Your hometown has never once felt like this.
Nobody has made you feel this way before.
You bring the ramune to your mouth, sweetness dissolves on your tongue, your lips tingle, and your heart burns and burns and burns.
—Bang!
A sudden sharp noise causes you to jump, droplets of your drink splash onto your thin shirt and down your chest. The culprit is none other than Rindō, who had bought firecrackers along with the drinks — setting it off a little too close to him and Ran, bursting right beneath their feet. Rindō laughs uproariously due to your surprised expression — so loud and clear, it cuts through the cicadas’ callings, passing cars, and the booming of firecrackers. His smile is like the warmth of summer; brighter than sparklers and the sea of little stars above. Your cheeks heat up, and all you can see is him.
At this moment, it’s two a.m. at the end of July when everything hits you like a huge tidal wave. Oh. You understand it now.
This feeling burns into you.
Everything feels like summer.
#tokyo revengers#rindou haitani#rindou haitani x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo rev x reader#haitani brothers
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P1HARMONY TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU'RE SICK
💌 GENRE: fluff 💌 READER: gender neutral
A/N: my own work reposted
KEEHO:
“Okay, this is fine, I know what to do.”
He’s internally panicking but still manages to remember what his mom did for him and his siblings, when they got sick.
After he finishes lecturing you about how you need to take better care of yourself, he also tries to remember what he usually did when he had to take care of his little brother.
Absolutely refuses to let you do anything, you’re only allowed to stay in your warm bundle of blankets and rest.
“Where are you going??” “Um, to the toilet?” “Oh... oh okay, you can go there.”
He feels like he can’t do anything to help and he hates that feeling.
He’s also very distraught because he hates seeing you miserable and he can’t even kiss your or give you a hug to make you feel better.
God forbid you ask for a kiss or a hug.
He’d have the biggest crisis of his life because ew, he doesn’t want to catch your cold but he cannot say no to you.
Holds your hand until you fall asleep and kisses your forehead anyway, in hopes that it will help you get well sooner.
THEO:
“Wow, you look like shit.”
Shakes his head and tsks because he told you that you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t dress warmer.
But did you listen to him? No. Of course you didn’t. You never do.
And now what? He has to take care of your sorry ass.
You better be super thankful to him once you get better and repay him for his efforts.
He’s only frustrated because he doesn’t like seeing you in such a bad state, it really hurts his heart.
He also blames himself a tiny bit because maybe he should have been firmer and not let you go out without a jacket.
If your condition is very bad, he will definitely tear up when you can’t see him.
But wipes his tears right away and forces all of your meds and a bowl of soup and a mug of tea down your throat.
Strictly enforces self-care.
Sings and talks to you so you won’t get bored, and because he knows that you like to fall asleep to the sound of his voice.
JIUNG:
Forces you to take all the vitamins in the house before going to the drug store and buying some more, as well as some medicine.
The best person to have around when you’re sick.
Makes you chicken soup and chamomile tea and a healthy meal, depending on what you’re able to swallow.
He knows all the tricks and the traditional folk remedies for colds, runny noses and sore throats.
Half of them come from his grandparents, half of them from various internet searches because obviously, he’s the one who takes care of his members too.
He doesn’t scold you, at least not until you get better, but he looks at you with that disappointed gaze and sighs, and that’s almost worse than a scolding.
He will never let you forget about this, he will bring it up all the time. “Remember when you got sick? You don’t want to repeat that, do you?”
He will literally not touch you.
May or may not comes into your room with a face mask on.
But he still fluffs your pillow up and pulls your blanket over you when it falls, because you were tossing and turning too much.
He also collects and throws out your used tissues then wipes your face with warm water so you won’t feel so terrible in your skin and environment after you wake up.
INTAK:
Continuously on the phone with his mom.
Asks what you feel and conveys everything through the phone because he sure as hell doesn’t know what to do and he doesn’t want to accidentally poison you with the wrong medicine or smth.
This is just a lot of pressure on him, he really wants to take care of you, not make your condition worse somehow.
It’s like he never in his life had a cold, his brain just shuts down.
After feeding you the medicine and making you go to bed, you fall asleep.
He hovers around your bed awkwardly like a lost puppy, not knowing what to do.
He sits down on your desk chair and just... stares at you. Not in a creepy way, he’s just observing if you’re okay so he can jump up and run to your help at the slightest hint of discomfort.
You start to stir and he’s already by your side with a cup of water or tea because he knows your throat must have dried out while you were sleeping.
Refuses to go home even if there’s really nothing he can do for you anymore.
Doesn’t care at all if he’s going to catch your cold or not, if it were up to him, he’d rather it was him being sick instead of you.
He hates seeing you like this so much.
If you don’t let him stay and cuddle you, he’s going to cry. He just needs to be there for you, with you.
SOUL:
Clueless and lost but he definitely won’t overreact.
Half thinks that this is just a cold so you’ll get better after some rest.
But also, when he sees you suffer, his heart is just in pain.
He knows that you’ll be just fine in a couple of days but still, he wishes those days could pass a little faster.
Keeps looking stuff up on the internet to find something he can help you with.
Which was a bad idea because now he’s overreacting.
“This article says, you might be dying... you’re not dying, right?” “...” “Right?” “No, I’m not dying, it’s okay, I just need some rest.”
Thinks that getting sick together would be a good couple bonding activity and it’s up to you to convince him that no, it is not.
Stays a respectful distance away but doesn’t really want to leave you.
He just knows that colds suck and you must be super bored with all that sleeping and resting so he takes your tv over and binge watches something the both of you like on low volume.
That way you can sleep when you want to sleep and watch the show when you wake up.
And he can also bring you whatever you need, help you and take care of you while entertaining himself.
Insists on holding your hand all the time, and the better your condition is, the closer he moves to you.
Before you notice, those few sick days already passed and you're cuddling all healthily again.
JONGSEOB:
First of all, he gives you a scolding through the phone while already putting on his shoes and collecting things you might need.
His heart sinks when he sees you in your bed, weak and surrounded by tissues but then gathers himself together and starts nagging.
Gives you a thousand kind of vitamins, explaining what each of them is for and how it’s good for your body, you should always take them not only when you’re sick. If you take them regularly, you won’t get sick in the first place.
Interrogates you about your symptoms and only eases up when he’s sure that you only have a common cold.
When he sighs in relief, it hits him just how deeply he cares about you and how worried he is.
He then takes on a softer tone and attitude, making sure that you have everything you need and you’re as comfortable as possible.
Runs home for his laptop so he can work from your bedroom.
He practically makes your desk his own and he does his usual things while you sleep.
He regularly checks your fever and makes sure that you stay hydrated too.
He knows that he could just leave you alone, it’s not like you need 24 hours supervision but he kind of doesn’t want to leave.
Finally, he decides to just sleep on the couch and makes you a nice breakfast in the morning.
#p1harmony#p1harmony imagines#p1harmony scenarios#p1harmony reactions#p1harmony fluff#p1harmony x reader#yoon keeho#choi taeyang#theo#choi jiung#hwang intak#soul#haku shota#kim jongseob
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Geno Media Availability
What hes looking for in the exhibition game: Basically trying to execute what they’ve been practicing. Try some lineups, and get things accomplished.
Says early on in November you don’t know what you are really going to get.
This year they have options, and the lineup may depend on who they are playing.. He says that he wouldn’t read too much about the exhibition starting lineup.
Kaitlyn: Has chemistry with the other players, said it doesn’t come easy. Kaitlyn is aggressive, tough competitor, shes in fantastic shape. She’s been everything that they had hoped.
Post Players: They are inexperienced and sometimes he has to sit and think when they are up and down is it because of the inexperience, or is it because they aren’t focused. Said that when the mistakes come from them not being focused those are the type of things he can’t accept. Says that they are getting better at understanding what they have to do, getting better at bringing the same thing everyday. Says that they have 3 completely different post players, they are distinct, completely different from each other and the rest of the team, and said that’s a good thing. They all wanna play and do well. Said he’s excited for them. Key to your team is how well they play. Didn’t replace Aaliyah and said someone has to fill in those gaps.
Was asked what were those distinct things they brought: Jana is her size, she takes up a lot of space, goes after every offensive rebound. Ice loves to play on the perimeter, she’s a good passer, she’s gotten better defensively. Sarah play’s more like a guard, she’s more like a guard-forward, shes comfortable wherever she is on the floor.
Sarah has continued to show the role that Geno wants from her, she’s coming out of her shell and feels that she’s too unselfish. Encouraging her to be herself. She has a lot to offer.
Excited for Jana to finally get her opportunity. Great teammate, exceptionally hard on herself. Not going to look pretty early on.
Morgan has practiced on and off sometimes. (Hamstring injuries are very easy to aggravate, so I’m happy they arent trying to rush her). She has multiple leg injuries it appears that probably weren’t probably taken care of when she was in highschool. Looked fantastic in practice, she’s a very comfortable player almost like sarah. She and Sarah can be interchangeable on the wing and post.
Azzi Looks great, she did practice today, just not while the practice was open (I wish the journalist would clarify that after they make those statements lmao). Just a matter of time now, but cannot give an exact date. Will be back sooner than the rest of the injuried players excluding Morgan.
Yanna still has the sling on, it has come off a little bit, it’s going to be a little while longer, he doesn’t have an exact timetable for any of the injuries really.
Caroline, Does more every day in practice, but very little to do with contact. She’s limited
Q, is continuing to look good in practice, says she’s active in practice, and has been incredibly aggressive, making it so that she can be in the rotation.
Allie shoots the ball great, she’s a fantastic scorer. Said that the new things that the freshmen didn’t have to do in high school are what they really struggle with. But the things that they were good at in Highschool are the things they are good at now. When they have her, Paige, and Azzi out on the floor at the same time that’s a lot of shots that go in.
Said that Ash comes and goes, she’ll have days where she makes everything.
Ice is in the best shape she’s ever been in, said that she worked really hard during the preseason, Ice is pretty good when she knows you’re counting on her. Said that both Jana and Ice are hard on themselves, he said it's very tricky to keep your confidence when it's not something you naturally have. They take too many things personally and say it'll be some work for the two of them. It is up to the coaching staff to make sure they guide them the right way.
Jokingly said that Paige is delusional (he was talking about confidence and said that some people have it, then said he doesn’t know if they are at the Paige level of delusion where they think they can do anything).
For Azzi’s Return Date: Geno said to him he thinks it’s a feel of comfortability and confidence that she’s ready to go. She has a limited practice of how many minutes she’s going to be out there, said there will be a time (next week, the week after he doesn’t know) when she’s going to come to him and say that she’s ready to go.
Not looking forward to his 40th Coaching Anniversary lmao.
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“i think we’ve found our first guest…”
cléo beckons the camera to follow her as she makes her way towards the first artist that catches her eye, tapping on her shoulder with a soft smile. “i thought i recognized you… say hi to the camera!”
the idol turns towards the camera with a smile of her own as she waves briefly. cléo adds on cheekily before pointing the mic towards her, “and who do i have the pleasure of speaking to tonight?”
“hi! i’m honey.b, but most people know me as honey of blackpink!” honey offers yet another charming smile, easily capturing the hearts of all the viewers watching.
“every blink and honeyboo at home must be going ballistic right now… you’re the first person i get to interview.” the two share an amused look before she continues. “and speaking of going ballistic.. i have to know what you’re wearing. you look good.”
“you know i had to go all out, cléo! my dress is from valentino who gracefully sent me this beautiful rose dress!” the camera moves from cléo to fully show off honey’s gorgeous dress as the idol continues to speak. “perks of being their brand ambassador, i guess!”
“you ‘guess’?” honey merely offers a sly shrug as cléo squints at her teasingly. “hm… i’ll let that slide this time.”
the camera shifting back to put both of them in frame, cléo continues on. “this might be just because i’m nosy, but what are three things you absolutely cannot live without?”
“hmmm… this one is hard, there are so many things i love.” cléo nods in agreement. “i would probably say my fans since i can’t exist without being the center of attention, snacks cause it’s the only way i’m gonna get through tonight, and—leaving the best to last, money. you know they do say money can't buy happiness, but my heart has to disagree.”
“diamonds may be a girl’s best friend, but money is also definitely a big contender. solid answers, mhm. next, let’s hear about the most insane thing to happen to you this year. it’s been a hectic one, hasn’t it?” honey laughs as cléo beckons the camera closer as if being let in on a secret. “i’m serious! inquiring minds are wondering!”
“well, i did have dispatch come for me earlier this year claiming i was dating a man during women's history month.” cléo’s lips part in dismay as the shorter shakes her head. “of all the months they could have posted it, they really chose to do me dirty. it was quite embarrassing but i did gain some more eyes on me because of it, so i cannot completely complain.”
honey then lets out a sigh, “it’s just the paparazzi that follow me everywhere like a hawk. but it’s not something i am not used to being in blackpink.”
cléo mumbles something about degenerate people something something and honey lets out another laugh, a hand flying up to her mouth. the noirette merely sends the camera a serene smile and trudges on as if she hadn’t said a thing.
“kudos to you, truly. you deserve a vacation. but before i let you go, i’ve got just a few more questions—just like this one: how do you feel about any of the nominees? the public is dying to know.”
“i don’t wanna yuck anyones yum but there were some artists i definitely was sad to not see. i definitely think they deserved some loving, too.. 2024 has been a hard year for us all.”
cléo’s expression turns sympathetic, turning to address the camera. “a sweetheart, truly. what about the weirdest thing a fan has ever done to or for you to get your attention? fans can be so cute… until they’re not.”
honey’s expression brightens, which immediately has cléo intrigued. “what a story do i have for you, cléo! for like a few months after my hit song espresso came out, i would wake up everyday—and there would my go-to-order that i have never shared publicly on my doorstep.”
cléo balks, her brows raised in disbelief. “they found your address?”
“—and me being silly, i thought it was something cute my boyfriend was doing. but in the end it turns out i was drinking potentially poisoned coffee for a while.” honey turns to the camera as cléo just stares. “just a little friendly reminder to plug in our braincells unlike i did!”
the recanted experience seems to really stop cléo in her tracks, blinking slowly before she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind—“twins!” she then lets out a mortified laugh as honey’s own laugh comes out choked, fighting off one of her own as the host squares her shoulders.
“i guess i’m paying for our therapy bills. moving on! what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever googled? even on incognito.”
“maybe not so weird but kind of funny.. after my album, love honey, came out, i was looking it up on google to see what critics were thinking! but i guess my team didn’t do their research when naming the album cause the first thing that popped up was a very adult business if you get what i mean.”
cléo has to fully walk out of view to process the news as honey laughs again, helplessly shrugging at the camera as cléo slowly appears back into view. “maybe… i shouldn’t have asked that. oh my god… okay, next question! what’s your dream role? any role!”
“i am gonna say it. i think it is about time we bring back the early 2000s rom-coms.” a staff member can be heard adamantly agreeing before quickly covering their mouth, making the girls laugh.
“i basically lived off how to lose a guy in 10 days when i was a kid! so my dream role would definitely be like an it-girl character that everyone falls for in a rom-com, not very different my actual life though.”
“and we would all tune in, i can tell you that.” cléo points at the camera as if to say you too. “last question. anyone.. special in your life?”
“well like, legally—” cléo raises a brow already, “—my company won’t let me comment on my love life, but there were these dating rumours that i was dating a seventeen member. i think that company confirmed it, but still my lips are locked.”
“well, as long as it’s not, like. kim mingyu, i think you’ll be fine.” cléo’s grin at the camera is as menacing as it can get as laughter sounds behind her. “i’m serious! i’ve seen many a deranged tweet. i’d be scared for my life. but thank you for indulging me! you’re a saint.”
cléo smiles sweetly as honey steps away from the camera with yet another wave, waving goodbye herself as she wishes her a good rest of her night. then to the camera, she tacks on a—
“on to the next!”
you can find honey at @pinkshaus ! thanks so much for joining the event !
#fictional idol community#fictional idol oc#fictional kpop community#fictional idol addition#fictional kpop oc#fictional kpop idol#fictional oc community
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Hannibal:
Elizabeth: The first kid that Hannibal taken a liking of due to having something in commons: witnessing a death of a parent (mom die from giving birth to her and Hannibal witnessing the last moment of his dad’s life), being used by their own family, and loves eating hotdogs. He will regret in letting Elizabeth go because she chose to live with her dad and extended family because she is suffering in the long run, thus she will be send to be with her paternal grandparents, who are castle servants in Lumenia Royal Palace, for a short while. When Elizabeth enroll in Ultimos’ school, she wants Hannibal to be her host parent. The two will be low key wants to be a family together, as father and daughter, but cannot expresses how they feel.
Velvet: He just took her, after he saw staryummies outcasted her in the village they made in Montagne Mansion. She gave up her dream and lost her passion. To thinks that Stella was her idol and she pick Emo Junior to be the mascot of her new clothing line! Yeah, she was one of the cousins who bullied Elizabeth, but that does not means she deserves to become furless to the point of being unrecognizable and get disowned by her own mom. Hannibal made an agreement with Pakmar that he will fund Velvet’s business in the future, as for now partnership, and be teaching her the ropes in business as a part of the partnership if someone else give her the bare minimum and love. So it is a temporary co-fostering to official co-fostering to adopting. (I am still working on it. Sorry for that.)
Blake, Nash, Uma, Mimi, and Marin: Despite Elizabeth’s half siblings get free housing and foods provided in Ultimos’ school for the underprivileged, they want Hannibal to be the dad. So Ultimos persuaded to make Hannibal a host parent and will get a payment provided, then allows him to think about adopting them once he spend time with them, because they magically fly to his house. Oof.
Bluey: Hannibal will be given Bluey the choice of continuing to stay with his parents, be in the foster system, or stay with him, his sister, Velvet, and cousins. He chose to be with Hannibal after he see his mom left him behind, stole Hannibal’s money, and ran off, after Hannibal had provided protection to his mom after the staryummies started justifiably attack her. The mom, Umbra-Violet/Umbra-Victoria is in jail by the way.
Vinnie, Vanny, May, Ben, Helena, Aurora, and Yumi, Delilah, Meena, Laurel, Poppy, Roxie, Aiden, Jewel, and Gem: Dorana the Second ask Hannibal to take them in because their parents are severely neglecting them and other reason.
Blake: He followed Hannibal. Why he does that? Why he stays in his house? I don’t know. Probably to learn about the world around him, and staying with Hannibal gives him an adventure of risks and dangers that will traumatize him. Which he did because he stop eating artificial tiffins and hamburgers.
Max: I don’t know.
Unknown numbered and unnamed Staryummies: When all the kids grow up, they are left in Hannibal’s front door, banadaged up.
Albius
Cindy: He adopts her at The Center.
which oc has adopted a child (or multiple)? what was the adoption process like, how did they end up with their child specifically?
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MAILMAN - SOUNDGARDEN
BABYGIRL WHAT IF THE SINGLE PLANK PATH TURNED MY YOUTHFUL INNOCENCE INTO A TOXIC COCKTAIL OF HUBRIS AND MORBID RESIGNATION
yeah. follow for more of the character of all time XO
#verse 2: for all of your kisses turned to spit in my face / for all that reminds me which is my place#for all of the times when you made me disappear / this time i’m sure you will know that i am here#verse 3: my place was beneath you / but now i am above#and now i send you a message of love / a simple reminder of what you won’t see / a future so holy without me#its the bitterness. the references to an inferior origin. the mocking tone. the finality.#the ‘i’m bringing you down with me and the eventuality of my demise gives me power over you.’#the spiteful continuance. OURGHHHHH#urgh yeah. ‘a simple reminder of what you won’t see/ a future so holy without me’ is probably my favorite line in reference to the yllz#my favorite song from Superunknown (album) is Limo Wreck!#but this has been on my wwx playlist for a while. and its right next to LVCRFT’s Dead Don’t Die djbdhgf#which is a banger about how awesome and spooky it is to be undead#(its like. hip hop x pop x how villain songs in musicals are always the best)#e.g.#‘welcome to my lair / put your bones in the air’#sorry lemme just#DEAD DONT DIEEEEE (the dead dont die we just multiply) DEAD DONT DIEEEE (does this look in my eye make you terrified?)#yeah its more goofy silly post resurrection wwx. hes a multifaceted character <3#is the curtain of talismans in the demon suppressing cave fanon or canon btw? i cannot rember where i got it from#used my yllz nenderoid as a reference 😌#art#mdzs#cringetober 2023#mo dao zu shi#my art#yiling laozu#yiling patriarch#wei wuxian#the grandmaster of diabolism#the grandmaster of demonic cultivation#self harm tw
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one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else
#i have to sleep a lot. i’m at the point where functioning requires 8 hours of sleep if not more#I should probably be getting 10+ but i’m a student and i work so 8 is the minimum. but then also getting ready for bed is a whole process s#the whole thing can take 10-12 hours depending how much im sleeping. just to make sure i can do anything#that is time in my day i cannot use for anything else. it’s not ‘oh but i can push through it’ because i can’t without spending the next da#lightheaded and nauseous and vaguely dizzy and with such intense brain fog I can’t think with my fatigue so bad i genuinely don’t know how#get myself to work a lot of days. my abled peers don’t have to deal with this at all. they have unlimited study time if they want to#and yeah it is a choice i’m making that’s true i could just not do. except i would lose my job and fail out of college because i would not#be able to get to classes or do my homework or think. but being told ‘but you are making choices about your life’ when i have lost so much#of what i used to be able to do because i am spiralling down and continuing to get worse is so.#literally last year i would wake up at 6:30 and then go to school till 3 and then go to my internship until 10 and get home at 11 and be in#bed anywhere from midnight to two in the morning and then wake up the next day and do it all again. i graduated with a 3.9 gpa and made it#into my top college while dealing with my cancer symptoms and then the two surgeries about it#but now i lose half my day to just making sure i can get out of bed. i can’t go anywhere because my body is physically too exhausted#any extra time goes into doing homework or occasionally time to myself#not decimating my health by doing minimum body care responsibilities isn’t freeing. occasionally i have a good day which is freeing but tha#usually goes into just. other things outside class or work or eating. I don’t go do something for myself or go do something fun on good day#because I still can’t. good days just mean i don’t want to lie down on the pavement when i’m going somewhere#I just. I don’t magically have control over my life because i try to get enough sleep. i lose half my day to doing that and ultimately it’s#just a bodily function that would have to happen anyway#this is a vent post im just having a really hard time right now because it feels like im in exponential decline. it was nowhere near this#bad last semester. my grades are tanking and i have no free time because anything outside of sleep is either work or school#vent tw#yall can rb this just ignore my tags completely#disability#chronically ill#i keep trying to explain to people how pots works because that’s all logical but there’s no way to explain what it’s doing to my body or ho#i feel all the time. the last time i felt this bad was when i had a bad flu or immediately after surgeries because i don’t react well to#anesthesia and always come out of them feeling like shit. and now i just feel like this all the time and it’s only getting worse#I can’t even stay up late anymore because my body feels like it isn’t counting the sleep even if I get 8 hours#I can deal if I have a free day the day after but that just leaves Friday and Saturday nights and I usually still have to do homework
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the crazy thing is that the way the world is makes it seem impossible to actually do the work to get better and be at peace with yourself and be comfortable in your skin.
#you can do all the work and society will constantly unravel it or create even more issues for you#i know i don’t need to dwell on it too much bc there are actions i and others can take in the hope of bettering society#it just gets so discouraging to see how much ppl hate and hate#how the american right wants to control its ppl utterly and completely and eliminate all the deviants#and how all their efforts don’t even make sense to me in anyway bc i cannot fathom what they even get out of it#like okay. you have all the power now. now what? what happens when you aren’t in office anymore. what happens when you die.#what will all of that effort have gotten you in the end?#what’s the point of making ppl suffer endlessly and continuously#i don’t think i will ever really get it.#doesn’t help that trans people aren’t really accepted anywhere.#it’s so so easy to get discouraged and not want to continue transitioning in the hope that it will be easier#but it’s either transition or love on the edge of suicide#i don’t really have many trans friends to talk to abt this. and the ones i do have aren’t/havent begun medical transition#idk i need to stop yapping#this post is very american srry guys
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There always seems to be one kid who just screams like a tornado siren, all day long, at any given opportunity. Like, kid, I love you, you are precious and deserve all the happiness in the world; but please for the love of god shut up. There are people trying to learn here and you’re not helping them or yourself.
#I don’t like being harsh with people in general but if one child is raising the tension in the room to a fever pitch every single day#making it incredibly hard for the kids who are trying really really hard to focus when they already have focus issues#and because I know this specific kid gets absolutely spoiled rotten at home and is allowed to do whatever they want#you know… sometimes it helps to show the kid how they sound to others by demonstrating the obnoxious nature of The Scream#because when the parents do Jack Shit about teaching their kid discipline and courtesy; you have to be a parent in their stead#But do NOT continue to scream. You are an adult with adequate emotional control. Screaming should be be done EXTREMELY sparingly#and only utilized for demonstration purposes or to stop a brawl; not for bullying or intimidation#Don’t do a JoJo Siwa and TRY to make kids cry even though you may get stressed enough that you want to escalate on purpose#Again: you are an adult with adequate emotional control; don’t escalate unless the overreaching plan is to deescalate#if eliciting a startle response will stop harmful behavior and “snap them out of it” for long enough for you to get through#or if they just need to let all their emotions out at once so they can lose enough of that high energy to think critically#then sure#but you have to guide them back down very carefully and calmly; it’s a precise science#Don’t be mean about it; be genuine in your feelings and don’t go overboard. Genuine ≠ mean unless you’re evil#Or if you don’t feel emotions very strongly (like I do) then react like a “normal” person. Lie about being angry or sad if it is appropriat#Again: Your goal should not be to get the kid to do what you want; the goal should be to get them to feel good enough#so they are ABLE to do it in the first place#And the goal should also be to show them how their actions affect others if they are not aware of it#“Teach a man to fish” and all that. Don’t always check them; get them to check themselves#If a kid hits another kid when they’re angry at something completely unrelated; then 1.) redirect destructive behavior#and 2.) walk them back over to the kid they hurt and say:#“Look at [name]; look how sad you made them. [name] didn’t do anything to you#It’s okay to be angry but we CANNOT hit people when we are angry because it hurts and makes them cry.” Works great#Always remember there is a power imbalance inherent in EVERY child-adult relationship and NEVER abuse it#And if you’re not patient or emotionally stable enough to work with or have children; then don’t. Please don’t.#Children are not cute little dolls to play dress-up with; nor are they perfect angels; nor are they your personal stress ball#Having children is NOT A GAME. They are PEOPLE who will grow to be your age one day and everything you do affects them#Sorry I’m just tired of all these parents who shove iPads in their kids faces so they don’t bother them. You’re giving them an addiction
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