#this idea has been plaguing my mind for over a year…

[greenunoreversecard]

Omg I was the anon who requested the Cole soulmate one! 💚 Its was rlly good!!! So good in fact I’d like to request a pt2 where it expands more on how Cole and the reader come to bloom into their relationship! Of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to!! 🫶

A/N: IM SORRY ITS SO LATE POOKIE JUNIOR YEAR IS EATING MY ASSHOLE. Also sorry about the shit ending I couldn't figure out how it end it

Heart to Heart (Just don't get the Hype, Pt.2)

I don't see Cole for another week, nor do I text him. Our next meeting is entirely coincidence, running into him on a street corner as he and the other ninja are wandering around post mission, probably to get some supper.

I have my headphones in as I walk down the desolate Street, as most people have already gone home by this time at night. Well, it's probably not the smartest idea to have both headphones in in such a crime ridden city; but it's the option I go with and the one that brings me the most comfort. My eyes are trained on the ground, My mind lulled by The gentle March I've become accustomed to on my way back from work. It's about the time I really start to detach that I feel a pat on my shoulder, causing me to whip around, yelping a bit, and flinging one headphone off.

As I do so I see the same alluring eyes and easy-going smile of the one and only rat bastard I've come to know as my soulmate.

The same eyes that have been plaguing my dreams, the same tall, built stature who despite looks like he could kill me, I also feel safe with.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this” he says, and that same cocky, playful tone.

“Well, you've got to stop sneaking up on me, then.”

“It's part of my job description”

I snort a bit at that, but quickly try and mask it with a scowl. He doesn't hide his look of triumph.

He turns, looking at the duo behind him, which I've only just noticed. one is in a electric blue, the other in a vibrant red. He waves them over, slinging a arm over my shoulder, and I curl in a bit on myself as he does, and I glare at him through my peripheral.

“Guys, you both head back to the monastery and brief sensei and the others on the mission. I think I'm gonna stay out a bit longer, chat with Y/n for a bit,”

He speaks, a smirk in his tone, and I mutter; “wow, thanks so much for asking how I feel about this arrangement.” My voice laced with sarcasm, and the one in red snorts, but the one in blue speaks up as the red one goes to retort.

“Y/n? Like that guy you mentioned you met at the bakery last week? Didn't you say he was like snobby, though? And also like-”

The man starts rambling on, and at least Cole has the decency to be embarrassed. I shrug his arm off my shoulder, as I side eye him once more, and he rubs the back of his neck nervously.

“Jay, Shut up, man.” Cole borderline hisses, smacking the blue ninja, whom I now know as Jay, who promptly shuts up, but not before whacking him back. I snort, and look over at the red one, who looks rather bored and decently annoyed.

“So. He's Jay, and your pissy?” I smirk a bit, eyeing the red ninja, as I speak with Cole and Jay banter a bit from what I can tell.

He glares at me.

“No, I'm Kai. Are you fucking stupid?”

“Well, do you consider Cole stupid?”

He snorts, and rubs his hand over his face, trying to keep his glare on his face, but failing. I hear Cole choke a bit.

“Excuse me?”

“Your excused”

“No I meant what did you just say?”

“I asked if Kai considered you stupid.”

“Yeah after you-” he sighs, and rubs his eyes, and I hear a small Snickers from Jay and Kai. A smirk grows on my face.

“It's not worth it.”

Cole turns back to the duo. “Are you guys going to head back to the monastery?”

The two complain a bit about the proposed plan, but concede, leaving me and Cole on the corner of the street.

He clears his throat. “You down to go to the park?”

“At…12:30 at night? The only people at parks this late are drug dealers and high schoolers.”

He snorts, but shrugs.

“What, are you scared of highschoolers.” he says, starting to walk towards the park. I follow him without question, which is concerning.

“Yes. Some of them fuckers are kind of insane.”

He laughs a bit. “The joys of adolescence, am I right?”

I snort, before realising myself once more and mustering a small glare from my position next to him, the streetlights illuminating his iridescent demeanor.

“Why do you do that?”

His question breaks me out of the small lapse of silent we had fallen into, and I look at him questioningly.

“What?”

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

He sighs.

“Force yourself to hate me.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

I sigh.

“I don't hate you.”

“Obviously.”

“I just….” I pause. Why am I spilling my guts to him? A man I barely know. A man I'm supposed to loathe.

“I just hate the concept of someone who's picked for me.”

His brows furrow. And his pace slows.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…” I sigh. “It's complicated”

“Then uncomplicate it” he says it like its the most simple thing in the world.

And just like that, I'm spilling my guts to someone who's essentially a stranger.

“I don't like having choices made for me. Like I have to bend myself to the will of another, to water myself into something loveable, something accustomed to another person. I hate the fact I didn't get to make the choice, that neither did my supposed soulmate. Because I want to be chosen, not for what we are to each other as decided by date, but because of who I am, what I mean to them. I want to be chosen out of love, not obligation.” I sigh, rubbing my face. Cole looks at me with a soft, imploring gaze, like he's using all of his hindbrain to memorize my words. I approach a nearby bench, and sit down. Cole sits next to me.“I also hate how reliant society has become on soulmates, using it as a pseudo crutch- a reason to abandon everything and go on the hunt for someone who might not even be alive. People put their lives on hold, leave their reasoning behind just to find a single person. And it's infuriating.”

Cole hums. I don't spare him a glance.

“I…that's a few valid reasons.” He starts, “but what makes you think I wouldn't chose you?”

I roll my eyes, sparing him a glance and a unimpressed raise of my brow. “You don't even know me, Cole”

“I could”

I look at him likes he's stupid. Maybe he is, a bit. He continues on, though, like a bulldozer.

“I think… I think I understand now, why people put their lives on hold, like you said. I mean- before we met, for the longest time, I loathed the idea. My parents, they were soulmates, you know? And when…” he hesitates. I don't push. Just listen, my gaze holding a tenderness I refuse to admit. “I just, I couldn't fathom the idea of finding someone who's supposed to be perfect for me, just to loose them. With my line of work, and with everything, it just didn't seem like it was in the cards for me and even if it was, it would be used as a shitty character development plot point by the universe. I loathed it, but I think I also feared it. Loosing someone I loved. Or would come to love.”

We make eye contact. His eyes are soft, knowing, the moon lighting his features and making him look like a angel. Maybe he is, in a way.

“But I wouldn't mind, if it was you. I don't think I would.”

My breath hitches a bit. His gaze is soft, tender. like a freshly baked cookie, affection oozing out of every pore, like chocolate bleeding out onto your hands.

He's not forcing anything, just showing a quiet understanding, a mutual fear. And it's soft, turning my insides into goo.

I sigh, and reply quietly, “maybe… maybe I wouldn't mind to much either, I guess.”

[aguasarcoiris]

I mentioned briefly in one of my previous posts that I am currently working on a VERY canon divergent crossover AU, involving (mostly) Corrin and Byleth

It’s pretty self indulgent if I’m being honest, but I have been working on the plot and characters for a year or two, and I’d be more than happy to share this out loud! :))

(^^ a little redesign I made for Corrin, ft. the main cast)

To make a (very, VERY,) long story short, Corrin runs away as the last prince Nohr, having lost the war against Hoshido. He ends up fleeing into Fódlan, where Byleth, Shez, and Jeralt find him unconscious in a river.

Corrin joins the mercenaries, and during this time, he struggles with gathering the courage and self-worth to return to liberate his homeland.

The focus is also heavy on Byleth, where he never becomes a professor, so he learns a new perspective in life after meeting Corrin, learning to view himself as something other than a living weapon.

Im planning to make this a full on fic, and I am working very hard on itthis! For anyone interested, be on the lookout!! :))

[xjulixred45x]

I'm doing nothing right now, and to kill time (because I can't write requests from here), I decided to bring up this TWST idea that's been plaguing my mind.

A Yuu who's a parent

And I'm not talking about a Yuu who's a teenage or young parent, no, I'm talking about an adult Yuu, of legal age, who has had a job for YEARS, EVEN HAVE MULTIPLE CHILDREN!!

Who had the bad luck of being run over by the black carriage while doing something mundane like taking out the trash or coming home from work😅

Can you imagine the characters' reactions to an adult man/woman appearing out of nowhere at the entrance ceremony? Not even a member of the staff, just a random human without magic who is suddenly surrounded by teenage boys (almost the same age as their children).

An adult Yuu can probably "make themself understood" better by Crowley than a minor Yuu, since they understand the gravity of the situation and their basic civil rights, especially how to negotiate. Of course, that doesn't mean the Ramshakle dorm room is spotless, but at least it's fixed faster than in canon.

OH GOD, GRIM! Part of me thinks Grim would have more patience/respect for an adult Yuu, and the other part knows that's a complete lie. Although at least Grim seems to have more trust in this new maternal/paternal figure in his life.

Did you see how Inosuke gets when Tanjiro is friendly to him? That's Grim every time YuuMom/Dad says something maternal/paternal to him or is friendly/patient with him.

Ace is still a little shit at first, obviously, but I think he softens quickly, just like in canon. DEUCE, on the other hand, is almost immediately bland. Yuu reminds him so much of his mother that it's not even funny. If you thought these two were protective of the normal Yuu, brace yourself. This is THEIR PARENT NOW, AND THEY'RE THE ONLY ONES WHO DISRESPECT THEM>:(

Their relationships with the other dorm leaders would be just as funny and/or cute.

Riddle DEFINITELY needs a Yuumom/Dad in his life the most. Even though their first interaction was probably fatal (no parent, ESPECIALLY a JAPANESE one, would put up with Riddle's tantrums), I can see Riddle being naturally drawn to them these days.

This kid needs a father/mother figure who makes him understand that making mistakes is a way of learning, and Yuumom/Dad help make learning fun! Just like the Robinson family.

I also get the feeling Riddle would like to know the basics of the original work/world of Yuu (especially if they work in a field like a doctor or lawyer) and it ends up being a two-way street, with Riddle learning about Yuu's world and them learning about Twisted Wonderland.

Leona, another who needs someone to recognize him as his own person and not as a hindrance or a lesser version of his brother. It's obviously one of the hardest to have a positive relationship, but not impossible. Especially after Book 3, where Leona sees Yuu in a more respectful light instead of annoying.

They do the typical things you'd think of as a parent-child relationship, like when Yuu does certain things like scold Leona for sleeping too much, skipping classes, and straightening his uniform—things Leona complains about but doesn't stop them. It's a rare kind of positive attention.

Or when Yuu congratulates him on something specific they NOTICED he's improved, when they let him wander around the ramshakle dorm, etc. Let's just say it's an unwritten rule in Savanaclaw not to mess with Yuumom/dad from now on.

Azul also has a certain trick. He probably had more trouble with an adult Yuu than a student due to, well, life's advantages (any adult knows that contracts made by minors aren't valid—) and ends up having a mixture of fear and respect for them.

Fortunately, there's also a certain soft spot for Yuu, especially because of his age and paternal/maternal attitude. they probably reminds him of his mom.

For that reason, it's not unusual for Yuu to end up going to the Monster Lounge from time to time just to catch up with Azul, make sure he's not doing anything suspicious, and get something to eat. The usual.

KALIM. LOVES. YUUMOM/DAD. Yuu can barely keep up with all his energy, but it's contagious.

Jamil will have to get Kalim to tone down the intensity a few notches for the sake of Yuu's blood pressure, especially if he wants to surprise them with a magic carpet ride. they liked it! they swears! Just let them know next time!

they are also a great source of comfort after Jamil's Overplot. Let's just say that with their help, Kalim is trying to learn a few things about social norms.

Have you seen that typical mom/dad style of dress? Mothers in plain/patterned blouses and fathers in knee-length pants? Yep, that's Yuumom/dad. And Vil won't STAND IT. Practically their first interaction is picking out a new wardrobe for them. IT BURNS HIS EYES--

Aside from that, I can see Vil being genuinely flustered when Yuu criticizes his behavior, whether out of habit or because, well, parents are good at making points (and knowing the entertainment industry, very few adults care THAT much).

There's also the fact that Yuu's compliments are painfully sweet and genuine, like that "you're such a handsome young man!" meme, and Vil can't help but feel more arrogant than usual when Yuu compliments him like that. Parental stuff.

Idia ironically has a good relationship (within reason) with his parents, but that doesn't mean he's scared of Yuu at first, precisely because there's nothing more terrifying than seeing them angry.

He's also bothered by Yuu trying to get him out of his room so often, or by joining Ortho in bringing him food that isn't fast food. Damn it, he gets it!

He's a huge tsundere, which is why he hasn't banned them from Ignihide after all.

Malleus is definitely the one who most relies on Yuumom/dad's positive attention. Not only does this human lack fear of him, but they treats him like a normal teenager, with normal problems, even going so far as to scold him when he deserves it. What does Yuu care if he's a prince? He speaks to people with respect!

Yuu has so much power that he can make Malleus apologize by sounding arrogant, stop him from electrocuting people, or make him think about his actions, all because Malleus would rather put aside his ego than think that his new friend/father/Mother figure is angry with him :(

Thanks to this, Malleus goes to the ramshakle dorm even more often than expected, whether it's to tell Yuu something new he learned about the school's gargoyles, ask for advice on how to make friends, etc.

I like to think that this Yuu is very homesick for being around the kids, especially if they have children at home waiting for them. Which probably does something unusual: it causes the principals to unite to pressure Crowley to return home as soon as possible.

They have grown attached to Yuumom/dad, yes, but the thought that Yuu's children don't have their parent, that they are waiting for their return, that they are suffering, twists their stomachs.

Until then, They'll be in charge of protecting Yuu as much as possible until they can return home to their family!

__________

(ESPAÑOL)

Estoy haciendo nada en este momento, y para matar el tiempo (porque no puedo escribir pedidos desde aqui) decidi sacar esta idea de TWST que ha estado plagando mi mente.

Un Yuu que es padre/madre

y no estoy hablando de un Yuu que es padre/madre adolecente o joven, no, estoy hablando de un Yuu adulto, mayor de edad, que tiene un trabajo de AÑOS, HIJOS INCLUSO!!

Que tuvo la mala suerte de ser arroyado por el caruaje negro mientras hacia algo cotidiano como sacar la basura o volver del trabajo😅

¿te imaginas las reacciones de los personajes a un señor/a adulto apareciendo de la nada en la ceremonia de ingreso? nisiquiera alguien del Staff, solo un humano sin magia cualquiera que de la nada esta rodeado de chicos adolescentes (de la edad de sus hijos casi).

probablemente un Yuu adulto pueda "hacerse entender" mejor con Crowley que un Yuu menor de edad, ya que entienden la gravedad de la situación y sus derechos civiles basicos, sobretodo como negociar. claro, no significa que el dormitorio destartalado este impecable, pero al menos es arreglado mas rapido que en el canon.

¡AY DIOS, GRIM! una parte de mi cree que Grim tendria entre mas paciencia/respeto por un Yuu adulto, y la otra parte sabe que eso es una mentira absoluta. aunque por lo menos Grim parece tener mas confianza en esta nueva figura materna/paterna en su vida.

¿viste como se pone Inosuke cuando Tanjiro es amigable con el? ese es Grim cada vez que YuuMom/Dad le dicen algo maternal/paternal o es amigable/paciente con el.

Ace sigue siendo una pequeña mierda al principio, obviamente, pero creo que se ablanda rapido igual que en el canon. DEUCE, por otro lado, es blando casi de inmediato, Yuu le recuerda tanto a su madre que no es nisiquiera divertido, si creias que estos dos eran protectores con el Yuu normal, prepárate, este es su PADRE/MADRE AHORA, Y SOLO ELLOS LE FALTAN EL RESPETO>:(

Las relaciones con los otros lideres de dormitorio serian igual de graciososas y/o tiernas.

Riddle DEFINITIVAMENTE es quien mas necesita a un Yuumom/Dad en su vida. Aun si probablemente su primera interaccion fue fatal (ningun padre ESPECIALMENTE JAPONES soportaria los berrinches de Riddle), en la actualidad puedo ver a Riddle naturalmente atraido hacia ellos.

este chico necesita una figura paterna/materna que le haga entender que cometer errores es una forma de aprender ¡y Yuumom/dad ayudan a hacer el aprendizaje divertido! como la familia Robinson.

tambien me da vibras de que Riddle le gustaria saber las bases del trabajo original de Yuu(especialmente si trabajan de algo como medico o abogado) y termina siendo algo de doble via, con Riddle aprendiendo del mundo de Yuu y ellos de Twisted Wonderland.

Leona, otro que necesita alguien que lo reconozca como su propia persona y no como un estorbo o la versión inferior de su hermano. obviamente es de los que mas cuesta tener una relación positiva, pero no imposible. especialmente después del libro 3. donde Leona ve a Yuu con una luz mas respetuosa en vez de fastidiosa.

hacen las tipicas cosas que uno pensaria de un padre-hijo, como cuando Yuu hace ciertas cosas como regañar a Leona por dormir demaciado, saltar clases, acomodarle el uniforme, cosas de las cuales Leona se queja pero no los detiene. es un tipo de atención positiva no muy común.

o cuando Yuu le felicita por algo en específico que NOTARON que mejoro, cuando le dejan pasearse por el dormitorio destartalado, etc. digamos que es una regla no escrita ee Savanaclaw no meterse con Yuumom/dad apartir de ahora.

Azul tambien tiene cierto truco, probablemente tuvo mas problemas con un Yuu adulto que un estudiante por, bueno, ventajas de la vida (cualquier adulto sabe que los contratos hechos por menores no son validos---) termina teniendole una mezcla entre miedo y respeto.

afortunadamente tambien hay cierto punto suave por Yuu, especialmente por su edad y actitud paternal/maternal. probablemente le recuerda a su mamá-

por lo mismo, no es raro que Yuu termine yendo al Monstee Louge de vez en cuando simplemente a ponerse al dia con Azul, asegurar que no este haciendo nada sospechoso y comer algo. lo normal.

KALIM. AMA. A. YUUMOM/DAD. Yuu apenas puede mantenerse al dia con toda su energia, pero es contagioso.

Jamil tendra que hacer que Kalim le baje un par de rajitas a su intensidad por el bien de la presión arterial de Yuu, especialmente si quiere llevarlos de sorpresa a un viaje de alfombra magica ¡le gusto!¡lo jura!¡solo avisa la proxima vez!

tambien es una gran fuente de consuelo después del Overplot de Jamil, digamos que con su ayuda Kalim esta tratando de aprender algunas cosas sobre las normas sociales.

¿viste ese estilo tipico de los padres de vestir? madres con bluzas planas/de patrones y padres con pantalones hasta la rodilla? sip, ese es Yuumom/dad. y Vil no LO SOPORTARA. prácticamente su primera interacción es elejirle un nuevo guardarropa. LE QUEMA LOS OJOS--

Aparte de eso, puedo ver a Vil genuinamente aturdido cuando Yuu critica sus actitudes, ya sea por costumbre o porque bueno, los padres son buenos haciendo puntos (y conociendo la industria del entretenimiento, muy pocos adultos les importa TANTO).

tambien esta el aspecto que los cumplidos de Yuu son dolorosamente dulces y genuinos, como ese meme de "youre such a Handsome young man!" y Vil no puede evitar sentirse mas arrogante de lo normal cuando Yuu lo halaga asi. cosas de padres.

Idia irónicamente tiene una buena relación (dentro de lo que cabe) con sus padres, pero eso no quita que Yuu al principio le es mucho miedo, justamente porque no hay nada mas aterrador que verle enojado.

tambien le molesta que Yuu trate de sacarlo de su cuarto tan seguido, o que se sume a Ortho en traerle comida que no sea comida rapida ¡ya entendio maldita sea!

es un gran Tsundere, por eso mismo no les ha prohibido la entrada a Ignihide después de todo.

Malleus definitivamente es quien mas se apega a la atención positiva de Yuumom/dad, no solo este humano carece de miedo hacia el, sino que lo trata como si fuera un adolescente normal, con problemas normales, incluso llegando tan lejos como para regañarlo cuando se lo merece ¿que le importa a Yuu si es un príncipe? ¡a la gente le habla con respeto!

Yuu tiene tanto poder que puede hacer que Malleus se disculpe al sonar arrogante, evitar que electrocute a la gente, o hacer que piense en sus acciones, todo porque Malleus prefiere mil veces dejar de lado si ego que pensar que su nuevo amigo/figura paternal esta enojada con el :(

gracias a esto, Malleus va aun mas seguido de lo esperado al dormitorio destartalado, ya sea para contarle a Yuu algo nuevo que aprendio sobre las gargolas de la escuela, pedir consejos sobre como hacer amigos, etc.

me gusta pensar que este Yuu tiene mucha nostalgia al estar rodeado de los chicos, especialmente si tienen hijos en casa esperandolos. lo que probablemente hace algo insolito, causa que los rectores se unisen para presionar en conjunto s Crowley para que vuelvan a casa lo mas pronto posible.

ellos han aprendido a encariñarse con Yuumom/dad, si, pero pensar que sus hijos no tienen a su padre, que estan sufriendo, les retuerce el estomago.

hasta entonces, se encargaran de proteger a Yuu lo mas posible hasta que puedan regresar a su casa con su familia!

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Let me know if you want me to share any more ideas I have for Yuus!

[74thcookie]

CondensedMilkAU

The condense milk is stuck in my head but I imagine this goes is mini arcs and we’re just in the BlueberryMilk Arc

This AU I’m pretty sure others already had a similar concept but this one primarily focuses on the Sage of Truth, juggling his duty as the Sage and a “mother” of two young cookies while also fighting with his burnt out from both his passion for the truth and his loneliness.

Nutshell of the Arcs:

Burnt Out

This is the beginning of SoTs crash out phase in where he left like he knows too much and is tired of answering others question. He almost fallen to the deserve for something more fun like deceit, he remember Truthless Recluse and what he became. He then tries to take a break from being a Sage and files for leave, his wise enough that rest is essential even if they’re immortal.

Escapism

He uses his “leave” to observe ordinary peoples life is like, he begins to envy their easy life. He then question himself if it really is easy, if their life really is easy as he proclaimed so he had an idea

Eyes of a liar

He disguises himself as a regular blueberry cookie with a simple back story. He struggled a lot being a regular citizen while pretending to be clueless but his charms manage to make the folks familiar with him easily. He is now one with the townsfolk and is nickname as the Mommy figure due to him accidentally lecturing some people with wisdom accidentally from time to time but they think it’s just “her” kind and caring nature hitting in and not him being smart

HonestFacade

During his time as a regular blueberry cookie he stumble upon a young black sapphire cookie who is working as a shoe shiner, he and the cookie bonded over the fact they love gathering information from clients and agree “all knowledge is good knowledge”. When the Sage warm up to the young cookie he then decided to adopt him and his sister. Though initially black sapphire rejects it and had a debate with the Sage, he lost that debate and the Sage was victorious. Black Sapphire didn’t really feel bad losing but relief he finally have some help with life and he can have some free time for once.

Blueberry Milk

When SoT sees the posters from his actual town of their concern as to where their Sage went, that’s where he realized his been gone for almost a year. He cant abandon this new life he made or his duty as Sage but he scuffs thinking he can balance both of this life with magic but his body seems to feel like it’s not ready to return… yet he has to.

He returns and people celebrate his return but that’s where black sapphire also connect the dots together about his mama. He knows for a fact his mama is hiding something and she is smarter than she let on. The young cookie is good at reading people and now that it makes sense these two are the same person, he now feels not betrayed but intrigued.

He also told Candy Apple cookie because shes a simp for the Sage and she goes nuts but agrees to remain quiet about knowing the truth for the Sages sake.

The events of the HonestFacade Arc made the Sage a bit open to new questions, having the value of time in his mind and unfortunately insecurities he didn’t realize he had like “Once the kids are all grown up or..crumble of old age. Who am I going to share my life with?”. His new thoughts of eternal loneliness begins to plague his usual routines.

And thats about it. I only made this to have an excuse to draw a tired SoT or soon to be wrecked or comfort SoT. Please don’t kill me

Also bonus:

[immortaljai]

Luddite ass nigga.

1.2 words (sigh), poly, age gap, fear & tension (?), Stack x reader x Mary, MLWLW

Luddite: Indicates a fear or strong dislike of technology

Got this idea from the end of the movie.

------

Imagine you, young, turnt, black, small knotless bohemi down to your ass (too much? mb) out clubbing with you friends..well you behind the bar serving your friends as they party. Okay fine you're at work but you get off in an hour so what's the big deal, these college loans not gonna pay themselves. Pouring a wasted man who has been hitting on you the entire time you feel..a weight shift in the atmosphere you look up and around the basic club seeing people grinding on each other, people recording for instagram with a wack ass hookah, you know the usual. Until your eyes land on two people. One tall jacked black man his hair nice and faded on the sides wearing some nice ass clothes, Jordans fresh out the box, toothpick in his mouth, next to him this fine fair skinned woman her hair curled nicely as she walked next to him the same confidence radiating off of her (gay ass). The music booming “HOW I LOOK” blasting through the club speakers “YOOO Y/N” you snapped out of it looking at your homegirl who look already wasted “Gimmie a free shot guuurl” internally rolling your eyes you looked at her and shook your head “hell nah you hears about these people going missing down south the hell you thinking” you said handing her a cool glass of water, and watching her frown but thank you as she walked away.

You sat there for another twenty minutes. Serving drinks. But your eyes always landed back on them the way she didn't leave his side not once yet, they weren't even drinking just..observing, it was weird, but you were gonna mind your business. Another five minutes went by with loud ass music playing no one at the bar, everyone too wrapped up in “getting some” or throwing ass. But you had about twenty more minutes left so you were on your phone, as you scrolled through your instagram you heard one..or two chairs scrap against the floor “what can i get you-” looking up you saw them both looking at you their eyes covered slightly in glasses. “Yea can I get..a whiskey” his voice thick and southern like, almost vintage and not of this time he spoke with confidence you never seen. You nodded quickly and turned to the lady who hadn't spoken a word yet but her eyes were already on you her glasses slightly tilted down as she smiled her red lips showing a few sharp teeth you didn't pay attention to at the time. “Lemme get a…bloody mary please” you felt the air get heavy for a second before turning around your braids moving with you as you quickly made the drinks. A bead of sweat slowly drips down your face as you struggle to get yourself together. Handing them the drinks you quickly and efficiently noped away from them to the other side of the bar drinking a big gulp of water.

Ten minutes passed you had about another ten left, at this point you were over everything and only wanted to go home, watching tiktok on your phone one airpod in you were called over by the lady with piercing eyes, you quickly stood up and walked over “bro what the fuck is wrong with me” you though to yourself as you stood infront of them “How..can i help you” you said avoiding eye contact like the plague “well i seen you there on your phone and I was just wonderin..if you could teach my dear love here how to use one”. Now momma ain't raise no fool..and this aint the 1930s but this lady…was asking you how to teach them how to use a..phone. You raised you eyebrow and slightly laughed “you-you forreal?” you asked in a choked laugh, making her eyebrows furrow the man finally spoke up “It would be my honor to learn from someone so young and..experienced” his sultry voice spoke up as he tilted his head slightly the dark and lights making him look even better “Young? You're a few years older than me”...the silence was loud as they both looked at you, her straight face slowly turning into a cunning smile. As the silence grew louder the small weight came back “I'll pay you” the man said snapping you out of it. Now you had a choice to tell these attractive fear gaging people no…or show them how to use the phone in about…8 minutes. He held up a stack of money pulling out a smooth 500, making you raise your eyebrows before taking it and slowly making your way from behind the counter “this is just for the money” you thought. You looked up from the floor seing the lady already moved a seat down making you sit in the middle. Sitting down you sighed lightly the seat warm and comfortable as you took the phone out. A sleek new version of the iphone matte black coming into your palms, your fingers brushing his as a shock ran through you. “By the way i'm Mary..and that's Stack” The lady said right into your ear making you jumo and hold the phone on your beating heart “DEAR GOD-” you yelped before sighing and nodding “Right” you said turning back to the phone collectively missing the smirk the two shared between each other.

“So right here is the power button, this right here is facial recognition, and then these are all your apps and hey siri take me to the app store” as soon as it took you too the app store you thanked siri and she said you're welcome effectively making stack raise his eyebrow “The phone talk?” that made you look up at him, “yes..it's basically..ai” showing him a few apps through the store you finally made it to the social media. “And this is instagram basically you follow people and like celebrities and shit” you said handing back the phone to them before noticing you were squished between them Mary looking over your shoulder leaning you you and stack pressed against you. “Whatchu mean follow?” Stack asked as Mary nodded “..bro…luddite ass nigga, basically people you know or are friends with you can follow and talk to them send stupid reels and shit” you said standing up emotionally drained as you yawned looking at your phone.

“Well im clocking out imma see you guys?” hopefully…hopefully not you thought before starting to walk away “Aye..whats ya instagram” she asked curiously before you could leave. “Uhm..” you said scratching the back of your neck before writing it down and bidding them a quick goodbye. As you made it into your car your eyes tired and feet aching your phone beeped with a nonfiction “S&MFANG has followed you”. ROlling your eyes you sighed pulling back out of the club the red sign that said “HEAVEN” written above as you drove off into the night. But little did you know that wasn't the end, not by a long shot. Mary and Stack watch you leave from the darkness of the night as you drive away they look at eachother “She pretty aint it?” stack said “Nervous little mouse” Mary said letting the man whose blood she just drank go, that just so happened to own the place. “Keep her safe eye on her yea?” Stack said as Mary patted the now vamp go. “Of course.”

-----

This was supposed to be a short oneshot.

[gallusrostromegalus]

As someone who was recently introduced to the wonders/horrors of the night shift, what does the graveyard shift look like for the 4th Division?

Also, is healthcare in Soul Society plagued with the same understaffing as the Living World, or has Unohana managed to destroy it with her own hand?

Under the cut:

1. The ER nurses I used to let Charlie therapy dog for

2. 4th division staffing

3. Unohana's genetic meddling

4. Unohana's genetic meddling part 2: Kuchiki clan Boogaloo

5. The actual night shift

1. I used to live near an Emergency Room and walked my dog where the nurses would go to smoke, and they'd fawn attention on him and share horror stories with me. I made a comment once about the night shift being worse than the day shift, and they all disagreed. People only come to the ER at night if they're really, really in distress and while that's not great, that is a problem they have been specifically trained to handle. During the daytime however, you get people coming into the ER for mundane shit because they can't be arsed to schedule an appointment with a GP, or because they're bored and want to start a fight, or a host of other reasons that do not belong in the ER and that is VERY frustrating.

2. Staffing: shortly after the founding of the Gotei-13, the Central 46 started getting paranoid about them potentially siezing power and declared that no individual division have more than 200 members. Unohana interpreted this to mean "I can only have 200 *Shinigami* working under me. I can have as much support staff as I want " and has finagled her way into having the hospital staffed with non shinigami nurses, researchers, specialists and the like so the hospital isn't short staffed.

2.1: It also helps that she put the Fear Of Unohana into the political powers that be, so the staff of the fourth division are not just the best-compensated in the Gotei-13, they're some of the highest-paid people with the best employee benefits in the soul society at large.

3. I headcanon that Unohana has more or less been selectively breeding the Yamada Clan for the last millennium. Her very good friend from the founding generation Shijima Chigiri married into the Yamada Clan after they handed the fourth over to Kirinji, and Unohana has been a sort of unofficial wizened aunt to them ever since. She's not pushy about it, but it is extremely convenient for any young person who is interested in romance or starting a family to be able to go to her, because she will have a list of candidates who would be good matches in terms of personality, interests and genetic traits.

It's ESPECIALLY convenient for the Yamada because the Yamada are the single largest shinigami clan. Every single division has at least one Yamada in it, and there have been at least two Captain's Yamada. The family is occupying an unusually large section of the already shallow local gene pool, and it's very easy to accidentally start dating your cousin. The Yamadas at large are aware of her meddling, and given that the family's expected lifespan has tripled since she started, they're not about to complain.

She's mostly been breeding them for Kaido (the ability to magically heal bodies and replenish reiatsu). While Unohana has been very crafty about staffing, the ability to perform Kaido is RARE so early on, there were years when she didn't have 200 shinigami to command. And out of this major staffing issue came her idea about selectively breeding for more Kaido users.

Lately , the thing Unohana has been breeding for is temperament. As prolific and powerful as the Yamada Clan is, they're not well-liked: Hanataro's older brother and her former lieutenant Seinosuke, who regards pain management as 'optional' and will revive people actively begging for death, is a fairly prototypical Yamada. The whole family has a beautiful talent for single-minded focus, and atrocious social skills, like if one were to cross-breed a border Collie and a dumpster raccoon. While this does have the benefit of cutting down on the amount of people who turn up at the hospital who do not need to be there, it also stresses patients out, so they take longer to heal etc.

So to that end, Hanataro Yamada is a TRIUMPH of practical genetics. He's exceptionally good at Kaido and remarkably death-resistant, but most importantly, had the affable temperament and work ethic of a large draft horse, something she's been trying to introduce to the line for CENTURIES. While he's not quite old enough for her to start walking potential mates across his line of sight yet, she has the list fully prepared.

4. In more recent years, her genetic meddling has started to pay dividends and she now has SPARE kaido-positive shinigami, so she is spreading them into the seated officers of other divisions, partly so there's at least one healer on-site in an emergency, and partly because it's not a bad thing for a third of the seated officers in the Gotei-13 to salute her out of habit. Lieutenant Izuru Kira started out in the fourth before he was poached by Gin (a move that rather annoyed Unohana. He'd been shaping up to be a fine anesthesiologist.), and Thirteenth division third seat Kiyone Koetetsu was formerly unohana's fifth seat. Extremely handy to have an accomplished medic within arms reach of one of her most intractable cases (ukitake and his imploding lungs).

4.1: Byakuya Kuchiki is also a triumph of Unohana's genetic meddling, because the Kuchiki clan doesn't have a gene pool so much as vague genetic dampness. It was a miracle that poor Sojun Kuchiki made it to adolescence, let alone breeding age, his blood was so doggedly determined to evacuate his body. Unohana had... Not quite pleaded, but she had taken Ginrei aside and very gently* explained that having Sojun father any children would be cruel to the resulting offspring and that maybe senbonzakura should be passed to a branch member with less catastrophic blood problems.

* for Unohana. It was really more of an extremely blunt, academically dense and somewhat threatening slideshow

Ginrei refused, and so Unohana embarked on a clever plan of subterfuge that Sojun be attended to by only her most physically robust nurses during his long stays at the 4th. To her delight, Sojun hit it off with the ox-constitutioned Sachiko Yamada, who was of sufficient respectability and remarkable charm that Ginrei allowed the marriage. Young Byakuya had the good fortune to inherit the best aspects of both his parents- Sojun's enormous well of reiki and talent for Kido, and Sachiko's excellent health and stubbornness.

Unohana was genuinely devastated when Sachiko died quite young, defending her husband and son from the assassins of a rival clan, and again when Sojun succumbed to his hemophilia from a battlefield injury. Despite this, Byakuya continued to thrive, and when he fell in love with the as-unrelated-to-him-as-possible Hisana Aramaki, she went out of her way to see them married come hell or Ginrei.

Hisana Kuchiki died of complications from an ectopic pregnancy. The surgery to save her had been successful but had introduced a septic infection that killed her a month later. While it could not be determined where Hisana picked up the infection, the surgical center in the 4th at the time was dilapidated from centuries of putting off repairs due to budget concerns from the central 46.

Unohaba destroyed the surgical center in a fit of rage not seen since she became Retsu.

This did rather force the hand of the budget committee and the surgical center was rebuilt with a ruthless adherence to sanitary practices. There have been no incidents of post-surgical sepsis originating from the 4th since. If Byakuya blames her, he's never said a word, and still willingly goes under her knife. Regardless, Unohana blames herself. She holds out hope that he might marry again, but understands why he hasn't yet.

5. BACK ON TOPIC: As for the actual night shift, it's probably the best time to get a hold of Unohana. She has ADHD and the delayed phase sleep issues that come with it, so where most people have a circadian rhythm she has an experimental noise album. The ER is slow at night, until it's not, and then everyone present is VERY GLAD the captain and her centuries of experience at this bullshit are also here.

5.1: Counterintuitively, she almost never sees anyone from the 11th late at night these days. Zaraki and his division are far from averse to danger, but he also has centuries of experience in That Bullshit, and has been passing the benefits of his experience onto his men, in such topics as "how much water have you had? Not enough", "Protect your head goddamnit" and "the nerds in the 12th will be sad of we don't use all this protective gear they made us. Humor them."

It also helps that she has Hanataro on regular duty over there for auxiliary lessons like "don't touch snakes" and "if you think 'am I sober enough to do this?' you're not. If you think 'I'm totally sober enough to do this!' you're REALLY NOT."

In fact, the ONLY member of the 11th she's seen after midnight since Zaraki took over was Yachiru, who developed appendicitis in the middle of the night. That was alarming but entirely manageable. Having her beloved, the most anxious single father in that world or the previous one, in the waiting room, was much less manageable.

"Yamada." She addressed Hanataro the following morning, slightly haggard. "I am going to request your expertise as both my head of toxicology and 11th division liaison-"

"I've been trying to figure out a reliable sedative for Captain Zaraki for fourteen years now." Hanataro sighed. "I'm well into the snake, spider and cone snail families with no success."

"...Shit."

[emonaculate]

Emon babbles...

This idea has been plaguing my mind, but I couldn't figure out how to write it in the way I visualize it in my brain. So, why not give you all what I have in the meantime?

Bandmate!Gojo x Readerــــــــﮩ٨ـ

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo who didn’t even want to be at this tacky-ass three-day audition. He had better things to do than wake up before the birds and the worms just to hear sob stories and half-baked songs from wannabe musicians hoping to ride the coattails of his fame.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who’s uncharacteristically… cruel? He claims it’s just because he’s not a morning person—that it has nothing to do with the reason they’re even holding auditions for a new bassist. But Gojo Satoru has always been a terrible liar. Everyone knows it. Especially Shoko.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo still manages to tower over his bandmates, Nanami and Shoko, even while slouched in his seat—absently clicking and unclicking a pen, expression unreadable behind nearly pitch-black shades. He rolls his eyes as another girl onstage gushes about how he saved her, how she loves him… blah blah blah.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who gets elbowed—hard—by Shoko. She doesn't need to see his eyes to know he's zoning out and back on his bullshit. She always knows.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo isn’t usually the bad guy. A menace? Sure. Annoying? Absolutely. Cocky? Always. But this version—this cold, detached, almost cruel version? That’s new. That’s not him.

But he doesn’t know how to go back. Back to when the band was whole. Back to when music actually meant something. Back to when Geto was still with him. with the band.

Nothing's been the same since.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo watches the girl slink offstage, dejected after failing to get her “main character moment.” He shouldn’t feel satisfied, but he does. Something is intoxicating about having that kind of power over someone.

“You’re a piece of shit, y’know that?” Nanami’s voice cuts through the silence. Calm. Cold.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who usually lets criticism roll off his back like water. After all, he knows who he is: a prodigy, a pioneer, a legend in the making. His influence will echo long after he's gone. But what unsettles him—what really gets under his skin—is when someone sees through the performance. Past the cocky smirk, the designer sunglasses, the tattoos and piercings, the curated persona. Nanami might be one of those people.

And that terrifies him.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who pretends Nanami’s stare doesn’t make his skin crawl—doesn’t make him feel seen in the worst possible way. He shrugs, casual and dismissive, but his fingers tighten around the pen in his hand until the plastic creaks.

“Nanami…” Shoko warns, her voice low. She can feel the tension thickening, like a storm about to break. This conversation? It’s been a long time coming.

“No,” Nanami cuts her off, voice gentle but firm. “He needs to hear this. The label won’t say anything, and I know you’re tired of getting dragged for his behavior too.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo feels his eye twitch. Slowly, deliberately, he drags his gaze up to meet Nanami’s. A smirk curls at his lips, and he lets out a low, mocking laugh.

“You got something you wanna say to me, Kenny?”

“I’m glad you think all this is funny,” Nanami replies, voice steady, hands tucked neatly in his lap like he’s discussing the weather. “Let me tell you what I find really fucking funny.”

He turns his chair to face Satoru directly and leans forward slightly, manspread, not to intimidate him—but to talk to him, man to man.

“You’re a twenty-three-year-old burnout lashing out at everyone around you. You're angry at the world, but the truth is, you're the reason everything's falling apart. You’re the reason Geto dumped you.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo shoots up from his chair, the metal legs screeching violently against the floor before the whole thing crashes backward with a loud clang. The sheer aggression in his movement makes the air crackle. That mocking smirk is gone.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who takes a single step forward, and before the second one even lands, Nanami is already moving—controlled, practiced, deliberate. In one fluid motion, he swaps places with Shoko, placing himself squarely between her and Gojo without a word.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who seethes as his chest rises and falls, fists clenched tight, turning his knuckles white at his sides. The pen, long forgotten, lies cracked on the floor near the upturned chair.

“You wanna say that again?” He growls, voice low and venomous like a snake ready to strike. His shades had been discarded during the commotion, and his gaze was nothing but a dark azure color as he glared.

Despite how scary Gojo looks at the moment, Nanami remains unshaken and firm. “I don’t repeat myself. You heard me the first time.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who suddenly feels like he’s vibrating out of his own skin. His vision flashes white-hot with rage and—something else. Guilt, maybe. Pain, definitely. But mostly, he just wants to hit something. Break something. Make someone else feel the way he’s been feeling for months.

Shoko forcefully wedges herself between the two men and lets out a low hum as if she hasn’t just been caught in the middle of a powder keg ready to blow. She gives Nanami a reassuring smile, relieved to see the blonde ease up immediately.

“Alright,” she breathes out lowly, “who wants to explain to the label that the bassist auditions ended in a fistfight? Let's just get through the last audition and call it a night.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who doesn’t move. Who doesn’t breathe for a second too long? His eyes still locked on his target; Nanami.

Because for all his anger—for all the pressure in his chest and heat behind his eyes—he knows Nanami is right. And that’s what pisses him off the most.

“Please… Satoru?” Her voice is soft, tired in a way that hurts way more than yelling could ever compare. And for a flicker of a second, something in him stirs. Guilt. Once upon a time, he was the guy who would tell someone off for stressing Shoko out. Once upon a time, he was the guy who would protect her.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo tears his eyes away from Nanami wordlessly, jaw tight as he forces himself to back down. The rage in his chest doesn’t vanish, but it simmers just enough to allow him to move. For Shoko.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who bends to pick up his chair with slow, deliberate movements, as though controlling the pace of his own unraveling. He counts silently in his head as a means to calm down while he moves the chair. He sets it upright without a word, the echo of metal legs scraping across the floor barely audible over the hush of the room.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who doesn’t acknowledge the crew’s concerned murmurs. If they were so concerned, they would have done more to help alleviate the situation besides just watching.

"Are you alright?" "Do you want some water?" "Should we take a break?"

He ignores all of it. Eyes forward. Shoulders squared. Like nothing happened.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo sinks into the chair again, but it’s different now. The slouch is gone. His hands rest on his thighs, clenched into fists. He picked up his sunglasses and placed them on the top of his head. They're slightly lopsided, but he makes no move to fix them.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo was sure he hated himself more than anyone else could.

Y/n, who had been waiting backstage for what felt like hours, hears her name finally called—flatly, almost like an afterthought. Damn. Maybe calling out of work to be here wasn't the brightest idea.

“Next up... Y/N L/N.”

Y/n, who walks in clutching a slightly-too-big journal to her chest, its edges worn and dog-eared from being dragged through years of lyrics and late-night thoughts. A seaweed colored bass, with various aged stickers on it as decor, is slung across her back.

Y/n, who had promised herself she wouldn’t freeze—wouldn’t fangirl or stumble or stare too hard. But when she steps under the lights and sees him in the flesh for the first time, her breath still hitches.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who barely even looks like the version of himself plastered across album covers and magazine spreads. There’s no spotlight glow here, no teasing grin or playful arrogance. He was just there.

Y/n, who felt that starstruck shimmer fade, like fog burning off in daylight. Because this close, Gojo Satoru doesn’t look untouchable. He looks hollow. Like someone who lost something or someone important and never figured out how to fill the space it left behind.

Y/n blinks, clears her throat, and adjusts her grip on her journal as she crosses the stage. Her scuffed red high-top Converse echoes with every step.

“Y/n, right? Thanks for waiting.” Shoko meekly smiles; it's clear she wants to give an explanation for the delay, but knows better.

Y/n nods absently and begins shifting her bass around to rest in front of her. “Yeah. Of course.”

She doesn’t say she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life. She doesn’t say that the only thing keeping her from throwing up backstage was the sketch she doodled of her setup in the margins of that same battered journal.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who still hasn’t said a word. Still hasn’t really looked at her. Y/n feels something twist in her chest—not disappointment, not exactly. Just the quiet understanding that legends are people, too. Flawed. Fractured. Geez, angsty much?

She plugs in. Fingers hover just above the strings.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo doesn’t bother to look up as the girl starts playing. He’s already heard enough bad renditions of their hits today to fill a lifetime. The stage lights hum. Someone in the crew coughs in the corner. The low rumble of nervous fingers plucking strings reaches his ears. He pulls his shades back down over his eyes; he could already feel a migraine coming on.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo clenches his jaw as she stumbles through the first few measures. The rhythm is off. The timing slips. Her tone’s there, somewhere, but it’s drowning in nerves and a touch too much hesitance. He hears her miss a transition—rookie mistake.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo rolls his eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck. He finally lifts his head just slightly, not enough to meet her eyes, but enough to glare over the rim of his sunglasses.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who’s done. He can’t stand another second of it.

“Alright,” he snaps, voice slicing through the room like a whip. “Stop. Fuck. Just—seriously. Stop.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who stands up, raking a hand through his snowy hair with visible agitation. “This is insane. Every person that walks on this stage either wants to fuck me, cry on me, or butcher my songs like it’s some kind of sick talent show. I don’t need another hopeful fangirl with a decent smile and a hobby.”

His voice rises.

“Where are the real musicians? The ones who feel it in their goddamn DNA? Who play like they’d bleed for it, not like they’re worried about hitting the right note just to impress someone they saw on a magazine cover!”

“Jesus, Satoru…” Shoko winces and mutters under her breath.

“You could’ve just said she’s not ready.” Nanami, presses a hand to his forehead.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who meets her stare for the first time. Actually looks at her. And for a moment, something about the way she’s holding her bass again—this time not as a shield, but like a weapon—makes him pause.

“…I appreciate the opportunity…”

Y/n starts and leans into the mic, her voice soft and sweet. She trails off, but her gaze doesn’t break. Something’s changed. The stage lights don’t feel so big anymore. The nerves melt right off her shoulders as she tilts her head, considers him—really considers him. Her gaze flashes from what was once starstruck to almost condescending.

Her sweet, soft tone sharpens into something sharp-edged and raspy—the kind of voice that belongs in front of crowds, under spotlights, on vinyl.

“You say all this about real musicians and what true artists are… but you don’t even look like one yourself.”

The room stills.

“I know I’m a real musician. I know I could keep up with you on your so-called ‘level.’ OR even outplay you. Hell, I could play any song you throw at me blindfolded and I wouldn’t miss a single note.”

She steps closer to the mic, wrapping her manicured hand around it as she raises her voice. The bass hangs at her hip now like it’s fused to her. Her voice is filled with pure confidence and snark.

“So go ahead and throw your tantrum, bitch. But don’t talk to me like I don’t fucking belong here.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who lets out a sharp laugh—humorless, more reflex than joy. She really just said that. To him. He steps forward slowly, only the sound of the chains around his neck is heard with how quiet the room is.

“Oh, you’ve got nerve, I’ll give you that,” He mutters, tilting his head just slightly to the side. His voice lowers, smug and dangerous. “Big words for someone who can’t even hold tempo under pressure.”

Y/n, however, doesn't waver. Doesn’t shift. She just watches him, chest rising and falling steadily, like she wants him to try her. The look in her eyes screams nothing if not defiant.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who sees the challenge in her eyes and decides, Fine. You want to prove it? Let's see you burn.

“Alright, hotshot.” He lifts a hand and snaps his fingers toward a crew member. “Bring me a six-string. Get the monitors live.”

“You’re seriously doing this now?”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who ignores Nanami's protests, is already pulling off his black aviator jacket and letting it fall carelessly behind a speaker. Someone hands him his guitar—a weathered custom model, black body, silver hardware, nearly as iconic as he is. His toned arms flex underneath his grey wife-beater as he holds the guitar.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who doesn’t even need to tune it. Just slings it on and strums a few warmup chords with effortless precision, muscle memory sharp from years of living in this world. He looks up at her, eyes glinting behind his crooked shades.

“Let’s make this simple,” he says, voice low. “You say you can hang with me? Prove it. ‘Charmolypi.’”

Y/n stills as she hears the title—not from fear, but sheer shock. That track was never released as sheet music. No tabs. No official breakdowns. Only the live version exists online—jagged, brutal, unforgiving. The song that reminds him of Geto. The song Gojo never plays anymore.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo watches Y/n closely now, waiting for her to fold. Daring her to.

“Blindfolded, right?” he adds with a singsong grin that’s almost cruel. “Unless that was just another line for the mic.”

Y/n slowly, silently, pulls her journal from the amp where she left it. She sets it down. Unzips a side pocket. Pulls out a black ribbon and ties it calmly around her head—right over her eyes. The room suddenly became even quieter.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, whose smirk falters for just a second. Y/n lifts the bass effortlessly and adjusts her grip, then rolls her shoulders back like she's about to dive head first off a cliff.

“I hope you’re ready to keep up with me,” Y/n says into the mic.

There's a pause in her words...

“Bitch.”

Ah there it is.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who can’t stop the sharp, stunned laugh that bursts out of him.

“…You’re insane.”

But this time, he doesn’t sound mad. He sounds alive.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo doesn’t look at her right away. He watches her in fragments. Through the slant of his lowered head. Through his lashes. Through the spaces between his thoughts, where the ghosts tend to live.

Charmolypi. A song with a name that means joy mixed with grief. A kind of beauty that hurts to hold. It was never meant for public ears, just something born between long nights, cigarette smoke, and a friendship that cracked before it could heal.

He plays the opening chords like muscle memory—because it has to be. His fingers know the way better than his heart does. That part of him got buried under too many headlines and hangovers, under too many nights he couldn’t quite remember but always seemed to end with Geto’s name stuck in his throat.

The strings hum.

And then she begins to play. Y/n, blindfolded, hands steady, pulse louder than the amp she plugs into. And yet, she starts anyway.

She comes in slightly behind him at first, just a breath too cautious. He’s already rolling his eyes in the back of his mind when she catches the rhythm mid-step, and holds it. No stutter. No flinch. It’s like watching someone walk a tightrope barefoot, terrified and trembling, but still refusing to fall. He almost respects it. Then she improvises.

Not just to show off. It’s nothing flashy. No desperate finger-speed acrobatics like the other posers who tried to impress him with technique and no soul. This? This is something else. She adds four notes. Quiet. Intentional. Mournful in a way that feels too intimate to be accidental. A deviation so subtle it would’ve gone unnoticed—except Gojo feels it; right in the center of his goddamn chest.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo suddenly looks at her. Really really looks. The blindfold. The curve of her mouth, not smirking, not posing. Just concentrating. Like she’s trying to wring something honest from a song that was never meant to see the light of day. Her hands move like she’s searching. Not for applause, but for meaning.

And something sharp pierces the haze behind his eyes. For a second, he sees Geto.

Geto, who used to press his forehead to Gojo’s back after long studio sessions and hum the bassline into his spine while Gojo pretended it didn’t make his breath hitch.

Geto, who co-wrote Charmolypi in a hotel bedroom while the rest of them slept. Who refused to write lyrics for it because he said the music should “ache in silence.”

Geto, who walked out of Gojo’s life without ever saying goodbye. No closure. No letters. Just an empty seat, and a song that no one else was ever supposed to touch.

Until now.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, whose jaw clenches. Because she shouldn’t be able to play this. She shouldn't understand the weight of it. And yet—here she is. Breathing life into something he left to rot. Y/n, who improvises again during the bridge. Adds a cascading fill that slips through his melody like water through fingers. It's like she’s not playing with him. She’s playing to him. Speaking in a language only musicians and broken people understand.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who suddenly can’t look away. There’s something infuriating about her. About the way she walks in here, green and trembling, but still braver than half the industry fakes he’s had to deal with in the last year. She’s raw. She’s rough around the edges. But she’s honest. And that’s the one thing he’s been starving for without even knowing it. The final note hangs in the air. It echoes like the end of a confession. Silence follows. But not the kind that asks for applause. It’s heavier than that. Reverent. Like something just shifted.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo exhales, and realizes he was holding his breath. He hates that she made him do that.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who speaks first, low and flat. “You improvised.”

“Was I not allowed to?” Y/n, still blindfolded, lifts her chin.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo almost says yes. Almost says she ruined it. But he remembers the ache in that bridge. The way her fingers knew where to fill the silence.

“You made it better,” he says instead, the words tasting like betrayal.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who looks at the girl still standing on that stage like it doesn’t take everything in him not to ask her to play it again. Not because he needs proof—but because he needs to feel that truth again. That ache. That joy. That grief. He’ll never tell her what Charmolypi really means. He’ll never tell her how he and Geto played the song for the first time together, as a confession for things unsaid, both of them bleeding in different ways, neither willing to say it out loud. He’ll never tell her that this was the first time the song didn’t feel like a grave.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who knows now: he’s going to keep her around.

Not for romance. Not for drama. But because something about her matters. And for the first time in a long time, Gojo Satoru wants to see what comes next.

Part II ???

[bumpen-underbeds]

So I love a good hybrid story and have been plagued by an idea... So here's my rambling.

Living in a mixed town, hybrids and humans all together barely managing to live next to or with each other, and you're brand new, fresh as fresh can be. Living in a house you can barely afford to rent, with a job you want to love, but the clients and even your coworkers are driving you up the wall and almost over the edge with how they act, the only saving grace being the kind young man who lives next door.

A beautiful fox hybrid, the whole nine yards of a man that should not be single, soft ginger hair and wiry ears that flick every which way whenever he is out and about, and a plush tail that is likely more oiled, brushed, and conditioned than anything you'd ever seen. He was beyond just stunning; he was kind, and his home looked so comfortable and cosy, with how it almost seemed to mimic one of those semi-underground eco-homes, almost like a hobbit home.

Only as winter sets in and your heating begins to fail do you end up closer than expected, shivering under your coat as the temperature drops more and more as evening turns to night. Dragging yourself to the front door and fingers going slightly numb as you fumble with the keys, sighing heavily as the lock sticks from how cold the metal is, turning and slumping against the chilled wood you wave at your neighbour as he stands by his own door, tilting your head at him as he waves you over.

Shrugging and heading out of your yard and onto his property, the only thing that passes through your mind is 'what could go wrong', letting out a happy sigh as he ushers you inside, his home warm and surprisingly filled with trinkets. Shelves and cabinets overflow with candles, blankets, shiny rocks, small plants and pillows that cover almost every colour possible.

Letting him take your coat and settling onto the soft couch, all you can do is sigh and rub warmth back into your fingers as he closes the front door, smiling at him as he cosies up to you wrapping his tail around your waist and throwing a blanket over your lap before puttering off to make you a warm drink. When he comes back, he is once again close to your side, handing you the drink and letting his fingers linger as he passes the cup, smiling at you as he watches you sip away at the drink.

Blissfully unaware of the reason behind this kindness, never having looked into foxes or fox hybrids, just happily sharing space and this warmth with him as he settles into your side, almost guarding you in a way.

How strange it was as your eyes fluttered and you yawned, mumbling about having to go home as you slowly nodded off, sleep coming easily as your friendly fox hybrid neighbour nuzzles into your shoulder smiling happily as he knows that he has secured his mate for this year's mating period, maybe even more mating seasons if you take to him as well as he had to you...

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Until I found you

The reader's nickname is princess. There are slightly spicy scenes so mdni. Fuck boy Eddie who quickly turns into simp for you Eddie, fluff and a bit of angst. 18+

❤️

The First time that Eddie met you was when he was running from a very irate ex fling. He had literally just ended things and she had taken it badly; even though he told Cassia that he wasn't a relationship guy, she still thought that she could change him.

So intent on getting away from the crying and yelling he fell arse over tit and landed in a heap at your feet.

Normally Eddie would put on the charm right about now but his mind had gone blank at your pretty smile and the amusement in your eyes.

"Uh hey, you wouldn't mind hiding me from my very angry ex would you?" you snort at his request and proceed to help him up.

Now he would like to say that he charmed the pants off you that night but he didn't. In fact it was weeks before that would happen.

Eddie didn't do love. He was too cynical for that shit and he had seen enough break ups and fighting from his own parents and couples around him in his early years that it stuck with him.

Truthfully when he was younger there was still an idealised part of him that dreamed of finding someone who would love him but after various disappointments it was easy to close off that part of him.

He was thirty nine and had yet to have a serious relationship, preferred to indulge in flings with like minded people; there were still a few women who liked to think they could change his mind despite his warnings but they were unsuccessful.

Some people liked nothing better than a challenge and Eddie was a challenge, but he was also stubborn and refused to change his mind about things.

Even when he met you he was still determined that you would be like the others, that this would be a short fling and then be over within weeks... well if you ever agreed to go on a date with himm

However you seemed to have other ideas...

When you finally did agree to a date, Eddie made sure you knew the rules. No way was he having another angry woman chasing after him. You seemed pretty nonchalant about the whole thing until towards the end when you surprised him by gently taking his hand.

"Doesn't it get lonely?" you ask him curious and a little sad. He swallows and shakes his head. "No" he murmurs but that isn't quite the truth, he does get lonely but chases it away with flings, weed and D&D.

You didn't look like you believed him but you dropped it and gave him a little smirk. "So what's this amazing date you're taking me on Munson?"

❤️

Weeks pass and Eddie doesn't seem to realise that this has lasted longer than his usual flings, the two of you are having fun so he doesn't see why you would have to stop now.

Eddie groans as he thrusts into you, he can never get over how incredible it feels being inside of you and quickens the pace, loves the way you moan his name and clench around him.

A powerful, intense orgasm rocks the both of you and Eddie moans into your neck, softly kissing over it and your breasts. You're still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm, eyes closed and a blissful smile on your face.

"Hey beautiful" he caresses your cheek for a second, you cuddle back in his arms and look so content and happy, warmness spreads over his chest as he watches you. Fuck.

This was bad, this was very bad. What the fuck was going on with him? He was moving into dangerous territory here, things he avoided like the plague.

While you were nodding off he quickly dressed and tried to ignore his racing thoughts. So he liked spending time with you? So what! that didn't mean anything.

The content feelings that had been popping up out of nowhere meant nothing either, the warm feeling when he looked at you? Maybe he was getting sick or the AC was too high. That must be it..

This was fine. Maybe if he kept telling himself this then he would believe it? He feels a tug on his hand as he's trying to find his shirt and you're wide awake and gazing at him with big puppy eyes.

"Stay" you murmur sleepily and pout, it's so adorable that Eddie can't help but join you back in the bed.

This was fine. It was just one night it didn't mean anything. Nothing at all.

...

Steve is the first person to notice what's happening, he presses a beer into Eddie's hands before everyone arrives for the campaign and the two settle to chat.

"So you and princess? It's lasting a while huh?" Steve waggles his eyebrows at Eddie who almost chokes on the beer he's drinking, annoyed at Steve's teasing tone he shrugs and answers.

"I could end things whenever I want Steve" Eddie waves off Steve's comment, he really doesn't want to mention to Steve how sick he feels at the thought of never seeing you again.

"Yeah, you could but you don't want to Munson and you need to admit that to yourself" Steve says wisely and is saved from answering as some of Hellfire arrive.

No he doesn't.

Steve doesn't stop there and pins Eddie with his gaze. "Dude she's a catch and if you lose her because you're so stubborn, you know she will get snapped up like that" he snaps his fingers and Eddie feels like he's been punched in the gut.

Steve is right. He knows he's right and Eddie knows he's right and those thoughts stay with him.

He tries to lose himself in the campaign, and it works for a while, he's completely in DM mode and smiling at his enraptured audience. Dustin and mini Dustin are hanging on his every word as he finishes this part of the campaign on a cliffhanger.

"Dude, seriously!" Mike whines and Eddie smirks and pats Mike on the shoulder, "Wheeler good things come to those who wait. Now scram!" he orders him.

He's already annoyed that he was so distracted at times during the campaign in the first place, it wasn't often but it was enough to unnerve him. Since when did he get distracted while he was in the zone?

It was you that was distracting him and Steve stupid musings but speaking of you distracting him...

You walk into Steve's house smiling shyly at Steve and your eyes light up the minute that you find Eddie. His heart annoyingly speeds up which makes him grumble under his breath.

The minute you're in his arms his grumbling ceases and he smiles. "Hey whatcha doing here princess?" he's aware of the others watching him and gawking, he throws them a dark look and they scatter off in different directions.

"I thought I'd surprise you, is that alright?" you ask nervously and he's quick to assure you it's fine. The two of you liked hanging out together so he didn't see the problem and he never wanted you to feel nervous asking him these things.

"Sure princess, you want me to teach you how to play? I have a mini set back home" he doesn't expect you'll say yes but you surprise him by nodding happily.

"I'd like that Eddie"

❤️

Eddie smiles as you fall asleep cuddled into his chest, the two of you have barely left the bed since he picked you up from work and you're finally tuckered out.

Usually right about now he would slip out while you slept. Except he finds out that he doesn't want to, he wants to stay and the thought doesn't make him want to run for the hills.

You mumble in your sleep then whimper as your hand traces the empty sheets, he moves closer to you and instinctively you seek him out and sigh content when you're cuddled up on his chest.

It's cute as fuck and he melts. Melts, he can't cope with how sweet that was and he feels that warmness flood over him again as he strokes your hair.

The realisation hits him then. He could happily do this for the rest of his life.

Well shit. That was new and terrifying and he needs to leave now and not look back.

For a second it feels like he can't breath and he's gently moving you to your side of the bed and is halfway through scrambling for his boxers when it hits him that he doesn't want to leave.

His breathing calms and the racing beat of his heart slows down to a normal rhythm.

Once again the thought of not seeing you again makes him feel like his chest had caved in and he slumps back on the bed and immediately gathers you back in his arms.

With a gentle kiss to your hair and the feeling of your body flush against his, he begins to relax and he admits to himself that the feeling of you in his arms is something he will never tire of.

He wants to do this for the rest of his life.

❤️

[sehaedazokla]

he that dares

part one

premise: Cregan Stark's arrival in King's Landing has brought a new type of chaos to the capital. Lady Tyrell is determined to use the Northern lord to her advantage, but the task might not be as straightforward as it seems. 

warnings: grief mention

word count: 4k

a/n: here is the idea that has been plaguing my brain since i started this blog. more installments to follow. any comments, feedback, thoughts are always appreciated, especially since this is my first longer piece on here. thank you to whomever requested this. it is not exactly what you asked for, but rest assured the story shall eventually give you what you desire.

next part | series masterlist

The Tyrell girl finds herself with the distinct thought that there is absolutely nothing special about Cregan Stark after all. 

She decides upon this in her quarters at King’s Landing, which are modest in size, almost befitting a young lady from a family as opulent as House Tyrell. The sheer silks of the curtains blow inwards gently in the face of the afternoon wind that drifts in from the open window, the slight smell of seawater and the remnants of a cooler day. 

The girl in the vanity mirror gazes back at her with a delicately downturned chin and round doe eyes that look up underneath delicate wisps of long lashes. She gives the look another attempt, pressing her lips together slightly to give her a darling pout as she opens a small pot of rouge. The color comes from an ornate box that is covered in gilded roses and twisting thorns. Her fingernails tap gently on the edge of the metal as she opens the rouge with a soft click. With one of her fingers, she presses into the coloring only the slightest bit to pull some onto her skin. 

Her plump lips are parted carefully as she raises her hand to dab the color to her mouth, leaning forward slightly. Some of her loose curls sway softly with the motion, and she rests her elbow against the edge of the vanity’s table. Once she has finished, she reaches down to open a drawer and produces a white lace handkerchief that is embroidered with the sigil of House Tyrell – a beautiful rose in shimmering golden silk. When she wipes her finger against the fabric, a light stain of pink is left behind. 

She returns to her earlier judgement, regarding the young lord she is set to meet with shortly. Cregan Stark is heavy on her mind that day. 

It was not too long ago that the Northern men had arrived in King’s Landing. Soon after followed their liege lord, the Lord of Winterfell, the man who holds the court at present. With him had come an even larger force and with that army he had seized control of the entire city in a very short manner of time. It would seem the young lord had every intention of continuing the war that had consumed the noble houses, much to the concern of House Tyrell.

The House is ran by a woman at present. The Tyrell girl thought of her mother briefly, and of her little brother Lyonel who was only two years of age. She knew her mother did not wish for the war to continue. That very mother had then told the girl that while this Northern lord maintained a firm hold on King’s Landing it was her responsibility to do what she did best: win him over.

There was little to complain about when the request was delivered to her. On the contrary, she had already predicted the wishes of her mother and had ensured she was in the throne room the moment Cregan Stark had first pushed those large doors open, blue eyes sharp and sword still in his hand as he led his bannermen in. It is with perfect clarity that she can recall the moment his head lifted to the balcony of the grand room, meeting her gaze for the first time. 

She could additionally recall each and every following occurrence of the prolonged gaze they exchanged whenever they happened to cross paths. After a few instances of this, heavy looks where the Northern lord would hold her stare as if he had no intention of ever looking elsewhere again, she found his eyes began to wander. To the lady’s lace she occasionally wove into her elaborate hairstyles, to the small freshwater pearls that spilled over of her collarbones, and then down further to the way the embroidery at the top of her gowns would sweep across her breasts that were pushed upward by the tightness of her whalebone corsets.

And once an adequate trap had been laid, the Rose of the Court had swept in with angelic grace and poise to introduce herself to him. It had gone as smoothly as she could have expected – save for the way she had found Cregan Stark was smarter than she expected. The shine in his eyes when she’d spoken let her know that this Northern lord would not fall prey to her so easily. 

Nevertheless, he has called upon her that afternoon. Which is why she is spending a rather grey day dabbing the subtlest of color onto her lips before smoothing her delicately arranged hair into place and informing her maid she is ready to depart.

They are to meet in the castle’s gardens, as per her own request. She had spent quite some time in the gardens during her time in King’s Landing, and found men were much more likely to deem a conservation there pleasant as it would reflect her scents of rose water and lavender oil and honey.

She catches sight of him as she makes her way down one of the pathways made of little rocks, her elegant heels tapping on the small, pearl-colored pebbles as she approaches. Lord Stark is facing away from her, his hands clasped behind his back. He is still dressed in dark colors but has opted against the heavy furs that had adorned his broad shoulders the first time she had seen him. His hair is a striking shade of red that when caught by sunlight shines almost golden about the edges. But this day, the sky is overcast and gloomy with a few gusts of wind and the faint smell of rain that perhaps foretold an incoming summer storm.

Cregan Stark turns as he hears her drawing nearer, his chin raising slightly as his stern gaze falls upon the Tyrell girl. 

She has settled for a hurried step, the heavy skirts of her elaborate dress clutched in her petite hands as she rushes up to him rather quickly, bringing a natural red flush to her cheeks. As if she had been quite fretful over the idea of making him wait for even a moment. Her maid trails behind, grasping at the fluttering of her headdress that the wind plucks at in gusts. The maid is providing the girl with a small amount of distance as she stops to catch her breath in front of Cregan.

“I do hope I have not kept you waiting, Lord Stark,” The Tyrell girl begins, her shoulders rolling back elegantly as she speaks. The action draws further attention to the prominence of her collarbone, over which a thin necklace of gold lays. Her eyebrows raise and draw closer as she gives Cregan a honeyed and apologetic smile. The color of her lips is that of a blooming rose.

Cregan finds there are no shortages of places to look when it comes to her. And yet there is no safe place to rest his eyes upon, no part of her that has not been subtly enhanced or maneuvered to make her look as comely as might be possible. It is no wonder that she has enchanted half of his bannermen as if by some sort of spell, leaving longing eyes and craning necks in her wake as she glides about the court. 

And Cregan cannot truthfully declare he is immune to her beauty. The only reason he has noticed so much regarding her is that he had been staring, all dry swallows and heavy-lidded eyes, at her since arriving. The way she made his blood rush hot in his veins, her face and figure more than pleasing. Cregan will not imagine – he is a gentleman, and she a highborn lady -but he could imagine, if he allows himself to, and he could imagine much whenever she enters his line of sight. She needn’t say a word to draw his eye.

He settles for looking into her eyes, although they are perhaps the most disarming feature on her dollish face.

“No, you have not Lady Tyrell.” There is a depth to his tone that she is not used to, even after a week of hearing Northern accents echoing down the halls of King’s Landing. He pronounces both her name and title by enunciating both syllables with a low timbre. She notices the way he intentionally kept his gaze to her eyes, his brows neutral and his features even. A proper Northern lord, perhaps. The girl will figure him out for herself soon enough.

“Oh, thank goodness,” She breathes the first word as a sigh of sweet relief, pausing for a moment to catch her breath since she had hurried so worriedly over to him. A hand comes to her chest, sliding over the top of her full breasts as she presses down to soothe her aching lungs.

Cregan’s eyes flick down.

“I would hate to be late. I know how busy you must be, what with all of your responsibilities here at King’s Landing,” There is that sweet smile again, breaking across her face like the sun through the sky in the early hours of the morning. When she folds her hands gracefully across her front, her cleavage comes together impossibly tighter as her arms press to her sides.

Cregan looks back up to her face, hand clenching lightly.

“Aye, I have been quite busy. Handling the remnants of Aegon’s supporters has proved a heavy task.” His eyes are light, reflective of the overcast sky above their heads. They narrow a bit as he speaks, his expression stern and his voice gruff. She wonders for a moment over how seriously he must take himself.

“A difficult yet vital task, verily.” The Tyrell girl’s eyelashes flutter lightly. She dips her head as if to acknowledge the severity and importance of his work at the capital.

He beholds her for a heartbeat, the slightest twitch of his heavy brows when she speaks with a tone that implies the most agreeable and sweet countenance. It is the perfect thing to reply with, a simple sentence that does not ally herself with either side of the war. An easy compliment given to him like candy. Here is a girl who has learned to play the game of court.

And before Cregan can push the subject further to see if he might glimpse a hint of her true opinion on the matter, the girl is already turning towards the path. He waits a moment while she begins to walk, observing the way she steps with effortless grace. Letting out a small sigh, his wide shoulders drop and he takes a few heavy steps to catch up with her.

The maid trails behind them, and Cregan wonders for a moment if she needs anything from the girl. As he glances over his shoulder, the girl catches notice and smiles, sugary and pleasant.

“How has the capital treated you, my lord? Aside from your important work, that is,” Her chin raises as she looks at him sideways. It is a fair way she has to look up, with the obvious height he has on her. She has never been considered tall, but even so, Cregan’s stature is quite imposing.

Cregan considers her words for a moment. The gardens are quiet, most of the lords and ladies inside to avoid the low clouds that hang precariously above them.

“The South is not much like the North,” He meets her eyes with a heavy gaze as he speaks. There is a heaviness about him in general – stern and disciplined. “I came for the war and find there’s one in every corner of your court.”

She keeps her eyes to the ground for a moment, her expression cool and pleasing. So it would seem Cregan Stark was not altogether empty-headed and boorish.

“Life at court can be quite turbulent at times, it is true,” A honey-tongued and cool concession, smooth as river water over rocks. “But your steadfast devotion to bringing justice is a refreshing presence. Others of your idealism have long since left these walls.”

At first glance, it is a compliment of the softest praise. But Cregan is not foolish enough to take her words for their immediate meaning. No, what Cregan hears instead is an unimpressed warning of what happens to those who come to King’s Landing with good intentions.

“I swore an oath and intend to keep it,” His brow creases in a serious frown. “Even should those I made that oath to no longer draw breath.”

“How very honorable,” Swift and candied, the words fall from her rosy lips as she walks gracefully at his side, finding herself with a flash of annoyance as she has to increase her pace to keep up with his wide steps. This is supposed to be a leisurely stroll, why is it that every step he takes has the length and intent of someone walking towards a particular destination? “It is good to know that the stories of Northern loyalty ring true.”

Cregan feels his jaw tighten slightly, his eyes on her face as she upturns her chin to meet his gaze once more. The look on her face implies she is impressed, but the Lord of Winterfell has an eye for falsehoods and this girl is covered in them, no matter how coquettishly smoothed they are.

A frown of contemplation folds onto his stern face. “It is our nature, my lady.”

“So it is.” A saccharine smile and the glitter of wide eyes. The garden’s flowers are in full bloom, upturned to the sky to catch the possible rain that would occur in the later evening. The petals facing the clouds, waiting, watching. Leaning towards the water they wish for. A small flutter of wings can be heard as a butterfly brushes past. “To be true to one’s nature, you will find, is not a common occurrence here at court. If it is Northern custom to be honest and straightforward, it is Southern custom to be prudent and waiting.” 

There is an eloquent way of describing the venomous snake pit that was the capital. Most of the men there came for their own personal interest or gain, clawing to the top of the food chain through underhanded tactics and broken oaths and lies. Most men worked their entire lives for a fragment of what Cregan Stark had come to King’s Landing and taken in one day.

“Therefore, you must imagine why you are so fascinating to many of us here at court.”  She explains in a tone of light and airy amiableness, meeting his gaze as if admitting why she had been staring after him so often since his arrival at King’s Landing. This is not exclusively a lie – she was sizing him up, same as every other noble who cared enough to keep an eye on the larger game at play. But some of her staring had been purely self-indulgent, much to her own irritation.

“And you have lived here at court long?” Cregan’s question is reserved and polite.

“A couple of years now,” The Tyrell girl looks out in front of her again while they walk, surveying the gardens around them thoughtfully as if she had not seen them a thousand times. “I served as a lady in waiting to Queen Helaena. The Hightowers are bannermen of House Tyrell and I had been betrothed to her younger brother Daeron from his birth. We had been set to marry this year, however…”

She could not care less about her betrothal to Daeron. It had served her well, allowing her more time to live unmarried as Daeron was much younger than her and the two had never met. And then he had died, and she found herself lacking the safety and security of a royal and wealthy betrothed who was miles away. She wishes she could say she had mourned him, but she had not known him at all.

“I am sorry for your loss, Lady Tyrell.” There is an almost warm quality in his voice as Cregan offers his sincere condolences. She looks down, as she knows she should. Many had given her similar sentiments in regard to the loss of her betrothed, but she did not find herself shedding a single tear for the fallen prince. It is not that there had been no love between them: it is that there had been nothing between them at all. Daeron had never so much as written her a single letter in an attempt to know her. But his sister plagues her thoughts.

Helaena had been a dear friend, a companion, a confidant. It was Helaena who had offered the girl company in that first frightening year at court, who had been unfaltering honest and direct with her. There were no court games or schemes at play with Helaena, no power struggles or competition or backstabbing. The Tyrell girl had been devastated to lose the Queen. Much more so than a stranger she had never even laid eyes upon. Daeron was a figment of imagination from the mind of her childhood self; Helaena had been flesh and blood and dreams and understanding. 

She is glad her eyes are downcast; she can feel the glassy haze falling over them and the way her smile lacks any warmth. After a moment, she forces a happier smile back upon her lips and dips her head slightly.

“I thank you, Lord Stark. It has been difficult in the face of such a loss, but I do hope to persevere.”  The brightness of her voice lowers to a softer tone. She is well used to pretending to mourn her late betrothed. It is not hard when she simply examines her feelings over Helaena, but such raw and angry grief is not befitting of a lady. No one wishes to see her scream and tear at her hair over the pain that rakes carved, hollow cavities into her chest. They wish for a light dab at a stray tear, a quiet, palatable sadness they can soothe with promises of future love and happiness.

Cregan does not know what to make of her reaction, unable to see her face as it is turned away. Her words are even, practiced. 

“I have only spent my time between the capital and Highgarden. There is much of the world I have yet to see,” The Tyrell girl guides the conversation back to Cregan’s original question with ease and experience. She catches his stormy eyes gazing intensely at her once more, sucking in a gentle breath that she wishes she could say is done on purpose to feign interest.

“I imagine I might fair poorly in the North,” She continues hurriedly, eyelashes fluttering as she regains control over her composure, eyes cast to the sky as she presents a sheepish breath of laughter. “With the cold and what not.”

Cregan’s lips twitch faintly at her admission, his head tilting a little as he gazes down at her. It is an amusing thought, this delicate rose in her pastel fabrics and shining jewelry among the ice and snow. He rather wishes to see it, he finds.

“Aye, I fear even our summers would prove challenging for those raised in such fair climate.” The amusement reaches his eyes and she finds herself watching as Cregan looks down, doing his best to remain a gentleman and fighting off the smile that seems to be threatening to break out at the corners of his lips. She hears what his words truthfully mean: he views the Southerners as weaker, used to sunshine and easy days. 

Does he fancy himself better because he spent all his time in nightmarish weather, buried under pelts and furs and smelling of sweat and snow? She is eager to see how he’d fare in court without the large army he had brought with him.

“Oh, I simply could not bear it,” She sighs deeply, as if even the thought of such bitter cold was too worrying a predicament to bear in her delicate mind. “I am afraid you shall not be seeing me in the North anytime soon, Lord Stark.”

“A pity, my lady,” There is still a measure of serious composure in his face, but Cregan’s eyes shimmer with something else as he watches her bring her hand to her chest again, smoothing down the expensive fabrics and then up over the soft flesh of her breasts. An action that feigns worry and concern and draws his attention. She has a way of leading the eye about in a subtle manner. Her figure gives him pause. “The North offers a great beauty for those who choose to brave it.”

Her eyes flick to his and there is a moment where Cregan can almost see her sharp mind discerning whether his comment is a challenge or a jab or merely an observation. It fascinates him, yet his face betrays nothing of the thought.

“Perhaps I should amend my previous statement,” The soft laugh that escapes her lips and the sweetness of her expression makes Cregan wonder if he has imagined something. “If my lord was so kind as to offer me an invitation to Winterfell, I would, of course, be honored beyond words.”

Cregan wonders for a moment if he can discern her true intentions. She intrigues him, much more than she should. It was her alone of all the Southern ladies who had approached him directly, introducing herself and offering welcome. Cregan knows it is not from the goodness of her heart. She could fool his bannerman with her wide eyes and friendly smiles, but Cregan was attuned to lies, no matter how beautifully they were spun. Attuned, yet perhaps not immune to their crafter.

It is likely she seeks marriage, now that her betrothed has fallen in battle. Cregan is a perfect candidate. But he cannot be sure, not when she’s blinking up at him with such sweet and thoughtful eyes. Her weapons are great and her skill with them is more so. Before Cregan can open his mouth to mention that he would in fact, wish to see her with rosy cheeks bitten from the cold and snowflakes in her soft hair, she casts her eyes to the sky, frowning thoughtfully.

“It would seem that the evening storm is rolling in sooner that anticipated,” She muses, sighing a little, as if she is truly saddened their stroll is coming to an end. They have almost walked to the end of the gardens anyhow. “I shall excuse myself, if you do not mind, Lord Stark.”

Cregan lowers his head in understanding, his eyes meeting hers as he lifts his chin. He holds the stare for longer than needed. “Go ahead, my lady. I would hate to see you caught in the rain. You might melt.”

She blinks, that sweet smile on her lips but not quite reaching her eyes as she feels her jaw tighten slightly. How utterly charming. As if to subtly let her know he has not fallen for a single thing she has said or done in the last hour. She imagines he finds that amusing.

“How kind of you, my lord.” She offers him through a mildly forced grace, her right eye twitching a little as she gives a deep curtsy that once again showcases just how fortunately she is blessed in the bosom. Cregan finds his mouth dry, his shoulders rolling back slightly. “Do not hesitate to call upon me should you need anything at court. I hear it can be quite challenging for those raised in such fair company.”

When she draws herself up, she gives him one last smile before she turns to collect her maid and disappears.

Cregan hears his own words shot back at him with the most amiable and honeyed cadence but realizes a moment too late. He runs a hand through his red hair and then over his face as he sighs. But as he does so, he feels the ghost of a smile on his lips. Cregan finds himself shaking his head, gazing in the direction she has vanished into for a long moment in silence.

comment or message if you would like to be added to the tag list

[mediumgayitalian]

¡hi! I just wanted to mention I found your ficts like, a week ago by pure chance and I am absolutely obsessed with the way you characterize will and the rest of the apollo cabin. Haven't actually interacted with any pjo content in a WHILE but i just absolutely ran through most your ficts in such few time, i adore how you write oh my god. It's everything i've ever wanted for these characters I so rarely find any content but am still mildly loosing my mind over.

🥺thank u..........that is so kind. and if ur looking for more stuff i can list some of my biggest inspirations!!

my fave pjo writer, even above rick riordan, is @cordelia---rose -- she is the will solace author of all time and gets him like no one else does. and me personally im more of a character writer than a plot writer, but BOY can cordelia do both. here's her ao3.

another writer i love is @the-ghost-king, who is not only right all the time but has some EXCELLENT niche headcanons for will that fit so so well. he's also got great analyses in abundance about the entire canon series, as he's currently rereading it, and on nico in general. his ao3 is here.

GOD does @rottenpomegranate (could not tell u if this is the right blog, im going off ao3 username) ever get not only solangelo specifically but how to write really intimate relationships. i stg im regularly picking thru their fics for instructions. anyways. ao3 here.

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll u wanna talk about PLOT! they have ur back!! they come up with the most fascinating story ideas and i eat it up every time. delicious. they are also an autistic will truther and i love that. ao3 here.

OVER TO THE FCKN CLASSICS IT'S @rosyredlipstick !!! ive been reading her stuff genuinely since i was 11 years old. i GREW UP on conchell. her stuff is so interesting and her shorter stuff is so cozy i reread on the reg. ao3 here.

ANOTHER ENDLESS CLASSIC! been reading @buoyantsaturn 's stuff just as long. he's got a HUGE collection of work it's my aspiration. they're really good at writing drew actually which is niche but i love her. ao3.

and a third classic! @percyspandapillowpetperry ive been reading their fics forever and it's funny cus their username is so specific it Sticks in my memory. i remember where i was when reading a lot of these for the first time. they write a lot of silliness and they're great for a laugh ! ao3

THE PJO ARRANGED MARRIAGE ROYAL AU....😭😭😭 @gatesofember COME BACK PLEASE I NEED TO SEE HOW IT ENDS!!! i used this fic as inspo for my own royal au. i drank up every word and i think of will's family dynamic in it ALL THE TIME. ao3.

@percyinpanties wrote my favourite smutty solangelo fic of all time and they actually generally write a lot of good, kind of plot driven but mostly just GOOD smut and i am there w a notepad every time. i stg. ao3.

i disagree with @ughdomenico a Lot but i can never pinpoint why and im always mad that even tho i disagree i also agree a little. even if i don't want to. she always has something fascinating to stay and it sticks in my mind forever. always inspired. ao3.

nikkiRA when i fucking catch you nikkiRA. "Will dreams of the people he cannot save. They're mad a him." changed my fucking LIFE youre evil youre sick and twisted. ao3

THE GOLDEN APPLE THE FUCKIN GOL okay. @thegoldenappleofdiscord has this one fucking fic and its unfinished right. has been for years. of will growing up with plague powers that he hates. and it fucking HAUNTS me it changed the way i wrote will solace forever PLEASE COME BACK (ao3)

@ghosttotheparty dude his solangelo is great of course but their PERCABETH...their percabeth fucking gets me bad. ao3.

look if you're frothing at the mouth for a royal au. and i so often am. @theroyalsavage as you can maybe guess, has you COVERED. they get the weirdo power dynamics means sucker punch intimacy of a royal au SO good...like she knows what she's doing fr. ao3.

OKAY ONTO ARTISTS:

@mothmanavenue hasnt been doing much pjo stuff lately but when she does it's fire!! she made my pfp too.

@skysmadness is less active here but he's pretty active on instagram (same username) and just posted some nico art actually!! i love the way he draws faces. AND in general i love how he draws nico, he styles him really well.

oh boy @cindersart hasnt drawn pjo in FOREVER but they've been drawing since i was a kid. i have soooooo many of their works saved on my phone bc their comedic expressions KILL me and inspire so so many fics.

brand new follow for me but @the-sunniest-angels angels holy moly!!! they use colours SO well it shocks me so bad. i love how whipped nico is in their art lol

@delicate-sketch ... oh all of you know delicate sketch. she's got pfp's all over this site lol. and HOO boy do her paintings knock the breath out of you.......ive been thinking of her children of hades painting for a while like im always thinking about delicate demigods now. they are. they are

hasn't gone here in a while either (i am noticing a trend 😭😭) but @clingonlikeclingwrap drew a couple of my fics and they captured will angst SO well. love that to pieces.

and finally @cometjuice HI BELOVED.....theeeeee apollo cabin artist OF ALL TIME like oh my goodness i scroll thru their blog every day like the paper. endless endless w's.

ANYWAYS this was a lot but i hope ur can curate ur tumblr experience!! so many brilliant minds at work here!!

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. FANTASIZE

I know what you fantasize about

TAKUMA INO x SUCCUBUS! READER.

sum: ino, desperate to feel the touch of a woman, seeks out alternative options. which includes, summoning a demon into his house.

cw: ooc characters, modern au (no cursed techniques), lowkey loser ino (i love him), virgin!ino, switch (both of you), handjob, blowjob, cowgirl, praise, pussy-drunk ino, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (on both sides), demons, demon rituals, angst if you squint, porn no plot, chubby reader, gojo is a bit of a dick, etc.

it was so funny looking up rituals for summoning a succubus, i know the person watching my phone activity is concerned. also, does this count for kinktober? idk i’m new around here. but i got this idea while working so…:) hope you enjoy. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.

Takuma Ino was having a bit of dilemma. It wasn’t anything serious like a sickness or losing his home, rather— it was actually quite silly.

He has never, in his twenty-one years of living, made love to a woman. Or anyone for that matter.

Now he’s been on dates before. Has flirted with woman, hell; even kissed a few. But, it never went farther then that. He wasn’t sure why, it ate him up inside that he didn’t have such experience like his seniors Gojo and Geto, even Nanami. And as much as he’d like to find the root of the problem, Ino refused to ask any of them for some perspective.

The thought alone made him want to curl into a ball and die.

But him being inexperienced wasn’t a secret, given Satoru teased him on it constantly. Much to the younger man’s dismay.

Things really took a turn one night, however, when Gojo said something a little off-putting.

At this point, you should just summon a succubus.

The statement was quickly overshadowed by Geto stating the white-haired male was being rude, along with Nanami agreeing. But in that moment, Takuma Ino wasn’t focused on Gojo’s lack of manners, rather; his mind swarmed with that idea.

Was it possible? Were such creatures real? Could he really summon one?

Ino was desperate. He felt something was lacking inside of him having no experience and all. So, just the thought of a solution like this.. well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

Which brings him to tonight, the man seated crisscrossed on his bedroom floor; staring down at the pentagram and candles in the middle of the room. He had spent hours before searching the web for summons, deciding on a relatively easy one. Drawing the pentagram took much more time then he wanted it to, along with placing the candles down. It was currently dark out, the moon shining into his already lit bedroom.

Ino pursed his lips, a bout of anxiety developing in the pit of his stomach. What if, he messed it up somehow? The thought of dealing with something worse then a succubus scared him much more than never having sex. However, another thought plagued him..

What if it didn’t work? Was it really worth wasting time on some stupid comment Gojo made?

It took a moment for Ino to decide his next choice of action, leaning on his crossed legs as an exasperated sigh escaped him. Moments of silence passed before he rose up, a small fuck it, escaping him. Leaning against his bed, the man glanced at his phone, reading through the remaining steps quickly.

“Okay, blood.. then chant.” Ino gulped softly. Settling his phone back beside him, he reached for the pocket knife off to the side. Flipping it open, he placed the blade against his palm, squeezing the handle of the small weapon. His breathing got heavy for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth— glaring down at his hand. Quickly, Takuma slid the blade across his skin, a sharp hissing escaping him once the wound started to sting. He watched as scarlet red blood slowly bubbled from the cut, breath hitching as the sight.

Ino breathed, lifting his hand over the pentagram and rose petals in the middle; watching droplets of blood slowly fall from his hand, into the pile. His lips moved, softly chanting the spell he had found on the internet, dark eyes glaring at the ritual.

The chant escaped his mouth five more times before he stopped, resting their silently for a moment. Waiting for.. anything, really. A signal, a sign the ritual had worked. That his desperation wasn’t all for not..

That he hadn’t cut his palm for some odd fantasy.

Unfortunately, nothing happened. Nothing, except for the sting of his hand and the one of his dignity. He was such an idiot— taking Gojo’s word at face value instead of as a joke.

Takuma Ino, felt pathetic.

Silently, he pulled his hand back, ignoring the sting of it as he began to collected the dirtied petals. He moved to blow out the candles next, collecting them as well to throw away. Once that was completely he exited his bedroom to his bathroom, coming back with a wet rag shortly after to rub away the pentagram.

Still silent, still completely mad at himself.

That was about five hours ago, Takuma deciding to push the event to the back of his mind and sleep. He couldn’t dwell over his stupidity for too long, he had work in the morning.

Curled up under his blankets, the man slept soundly, face pressed into his pillow. The room was quiet, atmosphere soft, his legs, heavy… heavy. Why were his legs so heavy? The half-asleep man turned, pulling his blankets a bit, thinking it was simply that.

But, no. Ino quickly realized it wasn’t that. Sleep was slowly drifting away, annoyance traveling into his body. Did he accidentally place something on his bed? Did something fall? Such question entered his mind, blinking away sleep as he turned— shutting his bedside lamp on.

Takuma Ino blinked slowly, eyes peering down at.. something, someone. A woman. She was, pretty. Cloaked in warm mocha skin, a form figure will full hips and curves; pudge pushed against the blankets underneath her. Her hair was neat, styled in long braids that rested in curly ends just below her ass.

And from what Takuma could see, she was completely bare.

“Wh—what..” The man stuttered under his breath, slowly pulling his legs from under her body, backing to the headboard of his bed. Biting the inside of his cheek, he reached over, planting a hand onto her shoulder. “Hey.. uh— miss?” He spoke, watching her stir just a bit. To his horror she turned from laying on her stomach, Ino quickly tossing his blanket in her direction. “Miss— its time to wake up!” Ino spoke again, voice holding much more urgency then it did before.

You slowly stirred from your sleep, blinking and yawning softly. You tilted your head to spot Ino already staring at you, a look of shock and nervousness painting his features. You only smiled, turning once again to rise up on your hands. “Hi..”

Ino gulped the moment your voice hit his ears, range a sickeningly sweet tone, soft; traveling into his mind so easily. He bit his cheek, clenching his pants in his hands. “How did you..get in here? Are you lost?”

You blinked at him for a moment, coming to sit comfortably on the bed, nearly smiling at the way he refused to look at you. Or rather, your body. “I’m not lost.. you summoned me here, right?”

As the words left your mouth, his breath hitched; eyes widening in shock. The ritual, actually worked? He had really summoned one, a succubus? There was no way, this had to be a prank.

“You look human.”

“I look how you want me to look..” You spoke softly, leaning back, sliding your hands down your body. “Or rather, your type.” You grinned, watching a warm red spread across his cheeks. You leaned, crawling up to him until you were far too close for comfort; watching as he sunk into the headboard to gain some space. “But, would you like me to change? Is there something else you wish to see?”

Ino breathed heavily, eyes finally falling from your face and to your body; trained on your soft plump breasts, your thighs, your hips.. everything was just so, perfect. Change? Such a thought would never pass his mind.

His trance was interrupted the moment a pretty giggle escaped you, his entire body stilling the moment your hand rested upon his lower stomach. You pushed up until your mouth was against his ear, speaking lowly;

“Looks like your body answer the question for you..” He hissed softly as your hand breached his black tshirt, gliding your fingers along his vline. You were so close, yet so far from he really wanted you to touch him; his head leaning back as you continued to rub gentle circles into his skin.

“Please..”

“Hm?” You feigned innocence, pulling back to glance at his face. His eyebrows were pinched a little close, eyes closed as he gently bit his lips. The sight was very pretty, you had to admit. “You want me to touch you more?”

“Yes—“ Ino spoke far too quickly, raising his head to look at you. His cheeks were flushed with red, embarrassed out of his mind— but he didn’t care. Not one bit. “Please.. please touch me more.”

Your glossed lips curled into a small smile, leaning over so you two were only a breath’s away. “You’re so cute, Ino.” You spoke softly, closing the gap to capture his lips. Slowly, you two enjoyed the other’s mouth, pressing your body against his own. You felt his hand twitched with uncertainty, slowly lifting to gently grasp your waist. You smiled against his lips, gently biting them in response. The moment a soft gasp escaped him, your tongue intruded his mouth, while your hand.. reached into his pants.

His fingers gripped your bare skin as your own traced his shaft, feeling him slowly harden under your touch. You wrapped your hand around his cock, slowly pulling him out of his pants and boxers. The man groaned softly as your thumb traced his tip, feeling precum slowly drip from the slit. You pulled back, cooing at the sight of his strained face. How cute..

You leaned over, lips pressed against his neck as you began to drag your hand up and down his shaft, slowly, watching him twitch with each glide across his sensitive tip. You sucked a kiss into his skin, switching around to kiss against his throat; relishing at the gulp you felt under your lips. Your hand quickened around his cock; focusing around his tip, grinning at the way his hips rose up into your hand.

“So cute..” You murmured to yourself, watching him carefully. He felt so sensitive from your touch, gasping out; soft groans escaping him every so often. The hand on your hip was bruising by now, fingertips digging into your skin, holding on for leverage. He’s never felt anything like this; your hand completely differently from his own. You played like him as if you knew his own body more than he did, grazing across secret places he’s never known about.

“O—oh, fuck..”

“You’re close, handsome?” You questioned softly, eyelids lowered as you hand got even faster. The man was bucking up into your hand at this point, fucking it, chasing his release. One he reached easily, lips parted as a husky, prolonged moan escaped his throat. You hummed softly as his warm release coated your fingers, glancing down as your hand slowly came to a stop. You tilted your head with a little simper, traveling down the bed. “You made a mess of yourself, Ino.”

Your voice brought him down from his high, blinking tiredly over at you. To his horror, you were leaning down towards his cock; the man gasping the moment your lips brushed his tip. “F—fuck..” He whined softly, gripping the blanket under him, a stuttered groan escaping him as your tongue traveled up his shaft, collecting his cum. “‘M too sensitive, please—“

Ino’s own pornographic groan interrupted his words the moment you took him into his mouth, eyes rolling back at your warm cavern. He could only lay there, overstimulated whines escaping him as you took him deeper into your mouth, tongue gliding across his cock; allowing his tip to hit the back of your throat.

You bobbed up and down his length, eyes closed and focused on your breath. Your hands resting on his thighs, feeling the muscles shake and clench with each movement of your head. It didn’t take long for the poor man to come again, his voice much louder than before; painting your mouth and throat white. Your moaned around his cock, slowly sucking him dry, feeling his hand press against your shoulder— gasping from the sensitivity. You pulled back slowly, swallowing the rest of his release, eyes peering over at him.

You warmed as his hand traveled to your face, feeling his thumb gently wipe away your mouth. You leaned into his palm, “Did that feel good, Ino?” You questioned sweetly, watching the man nod rather quickly; still breathless. You gently kissed his palm — right above his wound —, slowly traveling up his body, settling on his torso. His hands found your ass, gently caressing the warm skin— clenching when you pressed against his chest lightly.

“You want more, don’t you?” You spoke softly, leaning closely. Your noses brushed, moving in as if to kiss him, only to back away the moment you saw his eyes fluttered. His hand clenched your ass, a small chuckle exiting you as a result. “Use your words..”

Ino breathed sure his cheeks and ears were terribly red. He never imagined his first time would go like this, but, he wasn’t complaining. He glanced into your eyes, “Please.. I—I want to feel you.” He spoke, watching as you moaned softly at his words. He felt accomplished the moment you rose your body, scooting down a bit to hover above his crotch.

Your hand collected his cock, breathing slowly as you lined it up with your entrance. Pressing your knees into the bed, you slowly lowered yourself on his length; feeling his hands grasp your thighs the moment they began to shake. You moaned as he stretched you, velvety walls clenching the deeper he went. Soon, you settled into his lap, pressing your hands against his stomach to still yourself.

“Ar—are you okay?” You glanced up to spot the tinge of worry in his eyes, your cheeks warming at this. You leaned over, kissing his chin.

“Of course.”

Digging your knees into his soft blankets, you rose yourself up until only his tip remained inside— dropping down in one swift motion. The action caused the both of you to moan, his hands clenching your skin; resting his head on his pillows. You hands pressed against his stomach, fucking yourself on his cock; pretty moans escaping your swollen lips.

Ino was holding you so tightly at this point, allowing you to do anything you wanted; trapped under the pleasure you were giving him. Your plush walls clenching him, your hot skin pressed against his own— it was all so much, but he loved every piece. Hazy eyes slowly focused on you, watching work yourself up and down his length, how erotic your expression was.

“Look.. fuck— You’re so pretty.” Ino gasped out, hands traveling to your waist, slowly meeting your thrusts. His hips circled, watching you clench his shirt, pretty babbles of his name escaping you. He wanted to see more of it, needed to. You were far too much, yet he craved it.

A surprised whine escaped you the moment he began to fuck up into you, his feet flat on his bed, holding you tightly on his cock so you could do nothing but take it. The sound of skin on skin contact entered the room, your jumbled noises of pleasure surrounding the space too. Your bodies moved against each other, desperate for release— for the other’s as well.

Repeated fucks escaped you, leaning over to wrap your arms around his neck as he rose his hips more; reaching even deeper inside your messy cunt. You held onto him tightly, eyes pinched close as your nails dug into his covered skin. “F—fuck, so close, so close— Ino!”

His breathing was ragged, face stuffed into your neck as he felt his hips began to stutter. “Me.. me too, fuck— can i come inside? Wanna.. fill you up, oh fuck!” Ino’s voice came out in harsh whimpers, thrusts turning desperate, slamming into you as his mind grew cloudy. In the midst he heard your soft pleas for his cum, your pretty whines enough for him— pushing him over the edge. Spilling into your, fucking his seed into you; stuffing you full.

You gasped, eyes rolling back as you came as well; wet walls clenching, milking him of all he’s worth. The two of you panted heavily, his hips slowly falling to the bed as his arms wrapped around your middle. Your fingers curled into his hair, eyes closed as you simply laid on him.

“… Are you leaving now?” His tone was soft, voice scratchy from its previous abuse. You smiled at his words, shaking your head. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

To your surprise his arms wrapped tighter around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

“Good.”

[meazalykov]

wrong number

bayern munich frauen x reader

1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6

"who are you, and why do you have my number?"

you've been preparing for this move for what feels like forever.

the idea of leaving your small hometown in virginia to live in munich is both exciting and terrifying. you’ve spent weeks packing your things, saying goodbyes, and trying to mentally prepare yourself for the massive change that’s about to happen. 

sure, you’ve dreamed about studying abroad for a long time. now that it’s here, the reality of it feels overwhelming.

you’re going to be thousands of miles away from home, from everything you’ve ever known. your family is supportive, and your friends have been hyping you up nonstop. yasmeen, your closest friend, has been particularly great about helping you stay grounded, always there to distract you from the “what ifs” when the anxiety gets a little too intense. 

today is one of those days.

the two of you had planned a mall trip—something normal and fun before the whirlwind of final packing and travel arrangements takes over. well, yasmeen says that you need a new closet for munich and you don’t disagree.

it feels good to be doing something so ordinary, especially when you know that soon enough, everything in your life is about to be not-so-ordinary. 

you’ve been to this mall a hundred times with yasmeen, today feels a little more special though. maybe it’s because you’re hyperaware that you won’t have moments like these once you’re in germany.

will you make friends in germany? what if germany turns out horribly? are the people nice? is there xenophobia you might experience due to yourself being american? these thoughts plagued the back of your mind. 

"you’re gonna miss me so much, you know that, right?" yasmeen teases as the two of you walk through the mall’s food court, eyeing the chick-fil-a counter but opting for chipotle instead.

you roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your elbow with the arm that's carrying your aritzia bag. 

"i’ll miss your constant harassment, that’s for sure."

"constant harassment? i’m literally the best thing that ever happened to you!"

"okay, sure," you laugh. 

honestly, yasmeen has been a huge part of your life for the past few years. she was the first person you clicked with back in high school, and now it feels weird to think about going through the next few years without her by your side. 

you’re trying not to dwell on it, though. you’ll still have facetime, you tell yourself. 

after grabbing and eating your rice bowls, you both head toward the stores. it’s one of those days where everything feels easy—there’s no pressure to buy anything. you did though obviously.

at one point, yasmeen holds up a bright red kit with a smirk.

"ouu a bayern munich kittt. you should totally buy it, you will fit in with the munich community."

you tilt your head, laughing. 

"what is that? i don’t even watch soccer."

"woah! you better once you hit germany– i heard soccer to them is like how the nfl is to americans."

you shake your head but decide to try it on anyway. yasmeen snaps a photo and tells you that you look like you’re about to cheer for some random german soccer team. 

you don’t think much of it and put the jersey back, moving on to the next store.

as the day goes on, you feel a strange mix of contentment and anticipation. it’s nice being here, with your best friend, doing normal things, but there’s a part of you that’s itching to start this next chapter of your life. 

it’s like you’re stuck in this weird limbo between your old life and the new one that’s waiting for you on the other side of the world.

eventually, after several hours of shopping, you realize your phone had died. you don’t even remember when it happened. 

you’ve been so caught up in the moment with yasmeen that you didn’t notice the battery draining.

"ugh, my phone’s dead," you say, glancing at the blank screen.

yasmeen shrugs. 

"mine’s still good. if anything, i can call you an uber."

"nah, i’m good. i’ll just charge it when i get home."

you both grab shoes at birkenstock before say your goodbyes outside the mall. yasmeen gives you an extra tight hug. 

"don’t get caught up with your european friends and forgetting about me, okay?"

"never," you promise.

when you get home, you immediately plug your phone into the charger and head straight to the shower. 

the hot water feels good against your skin, washing away the stress of the day. you’ve got so much on your mind—packing, travel plans, what your life is going to look like in a few weeks—but right now, standing under the stream of water, you feel calm. 

you let your thoughts drift away and focus on the simple rhythm of the water hitting your shoulders.

when you finally get out of the shower, you feel refreshed, like maybe you can tackle all the things on your to-do list without getting overwhelmed.

when you grab your phone and take it off of your charger, you notice something strange. 

it’s blowing up with notifications. you squint at the screen, trying to make sense of what’s happening. 

there’s a new group chat, and it’s filled with numbers you don’t recognize.

confused, you open the messages. the chat is already deep into a conversation about something, but none of it makes sense to you.

+49 176 1234567: pernille you’re AMAZING wtf was that!!!!????? 

+49 171 7654321: arsenals defense during this match had nothing on you or syd holy shit

your brows furrow. arsenal? match? what are they talking about? you know absolutely nothing about this conversation. 

hell, you’re not even sure what country arsenal plays for. the confusion only grows as you scroll up to see more of the conversation.

you: hi?

almost immediately, your message is met with a flood of responses.

+49 171 7654321: giulia! finally! where have you been?

+49 178 1233567: we’ve been trying to reach all day, i know we had no training but are you okay?

your heart skips a beat. giulia? who the hell is giulia? you’ve definitely never gone by that name.

you: uh, i think you’ve got the wrong number. i’m not giulia.

for a moment, the chat goes silent. you stare at your phone, wondering if you should just leave the group.

before you can, a new message pops up.

+49 176 1234567: wait, what?

+49 171 7654321: did we add the wrong number again?

+49 171 11122222: sydney, you’re an idiot. you added the wrong number!

there’s a pause before a new number is added to the group.

+49 152 3334444: you guys finally added me.

you assume this is the real giulia. still, no one seems to be kicking you out of the chat, and before you know it, the conversation picks up again.

+49 176 1234567: giulia, you missed our whole debate about the arsenal match.

+49 171 7654321: yeah, and we were saying bayern needs to keep it up for juventus.

you stare at your phone, more confused than ever. arsenal, bayern… these are clearly soccer teams, but why are they talking to you? you don’t even watch soccer. eventually, you decide to chime in.

you: um?? i have no idea what any of you are talking about. 

this time, the chat explodes with messages.

+49 171 7654321: what?!

+49 176 1234567: how do you not know bayern munich?

+49 175 7778888: do you watch fusball? 

+49 171 1112222: okay, who are you?

+44 177 9900000: ok guys that makes me feel better about this not being a crazy fan.

+49 170 4479173: i agree with georgia 

you explain your situation—that you’re a 21-year-old college student from virginia, and you somehow got added to this group chat by mistake. 

you tell them about your upcoming move to munich for your study abroad program, hoping to clear up the confusion.

+49 152 3334444: wait… you’re moving to munich? like… munich, germany?

+49 171 7654321: that’s insane omg we all live in munich.

+44 171 9900000: wtffff 

+49 176 1234567: this is such a weird coincidence.

you blink at your screen. this is getting stranger by the second. what are the odds that you’d get added to a random group chat full of people who live in the exact city you’re about to move to?

+49 171 1112222: okay, but how do we know you’re not some creepy dude pretending to be a girl?

+49 172 4567389: LMAO LENA 

+57 170 9193831: wait… 

you roll your eyes at the suspicion but understand why they might be cautious. so, you send them your instagram handle to prove you’re real. 

you: ew, i am not some old dude. @ y/n.l/n is my insta, just me out for yourselves.

after a few minutes, messages start pouring in again.

+49 152 3334444: yep, she’s legit.

+49 176 1234567: okay, cool. she seems sweet.

+49 171 9718193: guys laura would love her photography skills

you: who’s laura

+49 171 9900000: someone from the german national team. she plays in frankfurt

+44 177 9900000: this is so cool idky why.. usually i’d be freaked out

a few new followers pop up on your instagram notifications, and you open the app to check. you almost drop your phone when you see that some of the accounts following you are verified. 

*sydneylohmann is now following you*

and another 

*georgiastanway is now following you* 

*tuvahansen is now following you* 

and more.. 

*leaschuller is now following you* 

*lenaoberdorf is now following you* 

*kathi.ng is now following you* 

*pharder10 is now following you*

*guzman013_ is now following you* 

*sarahzadrazil25 is now following you* 

now it seems like the whole team is catching on.. 

*buehlklara is now following you* 

*magdalenaeriksson26 is now following you* 

*magou_doucoure is now following you* 

*dahmannlinda is now following you* 

it's until you do a quick google search that you realize who they are.

they’re professional soccer players.

you sit there, staring at your phone, completely in shock. you’ve somehow stumbled into a group chat full of actual women’s soccer players. 

trying to play it cool, you decide to treat them like normal people.

after all, you don’t even know anything about soccer, so it’s not like you’re going to fan out over them.

you: so, what are your names? i want to save your numbers because all of the unsaved numbers are overwhelming haha 

they go around introducing themselves, and you quickly type their names into your phone, saving each number under the name they give you.

+49 152 3334444: i’m giulia

+49 171 7654321: sydney

+44 177 9900000: georgia s 

+49 179 7777777: lea 

+57 170 9193831: ana g. there’s two ana’s so i’d add the last name letter to tell the difference 💜

it’s surreal, somehow you find yourself chatting with them like they’re any other group of girls you’d meet in a random group chat. 

they even start to warm up to you after a few days, especially after you tell them more about your move to munich. 

a few of them offer to show you around the city once you get there.

georgia: honestly, munich’s great. you’re going to love it.

sydney: we can help you find all the best spots.

lena: i can definitely ☺️

lea: lena you just moved here from wolfsburg.. 

lena: lea shushhhh 🙄

pernille: ??? 

you smile at your phone, feeling a little less nervous about the move. it’s strange, but you’re actually starting to look forward to meeting these girls in person. 

sure, they’re professional soccer players, but they’re also just… normal people. and they seem to like you.

as the chat continues, you get the sense that they trust you. maybe it’s because of your instagram or the way you’ve been honest with them from the start, but whatever it is, they don’t seem to mind that you accidentally got added to their group. 

in fact, they seem to enjoy having you around.

klara: you seem chill. i know its been a week since you’ve been added but do you promise to keep our secrets safe? 

lena: ^

you: i promise. i like you guys! 

it’s not every day you accidentally make friends with a group of famous athletes, but somehow, that’s exactly what’s happened. 

as strange as it is, you’re kind of excited about it.

part two here

[lqveharrington]

Can I request I can do it with a broken heart for a Lucifer (Morningstar) x reader? Ty and congrats! <3

With a Broken Heart | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer's relationship has been strained for years, and Charlie tries to mend your broken hearts.

pairing: lucifer morningstar x fem!reader

includes: arguing, cursing, crying, angst, heart break

a/n: luciiiii! it’s been so long 😭 (rules for celebration here!)

Ever since Charlie was born, your relationship with Lucifer had been strained. You both wanted to protect her from all the harm Hell would reign down on your family, but your methods were quite different.

He wanted to make peace with the Heavens — have them back out of their killings once a year. You wanted to hide Charlie from the exterminators until she was able to take care of herself without you or Lucifer. Or until she was able to use her magic properly.

Down to the second Charlie turned eighteen, you and Lucifer continued to argue about what was considered right. Unfortunately, in the heat of the moment after a horrible extermination, Lucifer finally snapped at you when Charlie walked in. She never saw her dad yell at you, and you clearly weren't expecting it either because later that night you left Morningstar Manor.

You hadn’t seen Lucifer since, but Charlie refused to lose contact between you and her dad. She tried to get you two to meet up, but no avail. Not until she needed help with the hotel and refused to admit she invited her dad over when you arrived.

“Charlie, you didn’t call your father to join us, right?" You asked and sighed when she puffed her cheeks out. She was a horrible liar and you knew that came from her being born from two angels. “Great.”

“Mom, whatever you and dad had going on should be history by now! It’s been what? Two centuries since you’ve last seen him?” Charlie grabbed your hands and squeezed them, looking back and forth between your eyes. "It'll be okay."

You opened your mouth to retort but she had already walked away to find Vaggie. Bringing a hand up to your temple, you silently cursed that she was so determined to get everything absolutely perfect.

Although you never officially divorced Lucifer, he still left you with a broken heart that he never attempted to mend. He left all your broken pieces for you to deal with — not caring that you had to handle all the sinners’ affairs as well when he decided to go M.I.A.

“Oh sweet sweet queen of hell,” Angel wrapped an arm around your shoulder while the other popped open a drink, taking a quick swig of the alcoholic drink. “I’m sure you can handle whatever shit his majesty will throw at you.”

“It’s not what I can handle.” You murmur and shake your head, spinning the golden ring on your finger before glaring at it once you realize what you were doing. “It’s if he can handle seeing me after ages of leaving me on my own without anything but my own fucking tears.”

Angel’s eyes widened before toasting to that, chugging the rest of his drink down and pulling you toward the couch. Honestly, you were ready to fight for your side again until you saw him. It was like nothing affected him.

When Lucifer burst into the Hotel like he owned the place, you noticed the façade he put on just to see Charlie smile. He was always putting on a face so she would see the best of him. He was in the middle of meeting all the sinners of the hotel when his gaze shifted to you, face paling when he met your glare.

As if you read his mind, you turned away and immersed yourself in whatever Angel Dust was complaining about to Husk. Charlie looked between the both of you, defeat etching across her face. Nothing was ever going to get done if the two of you refused to acknowledge each other the entire time he was staying with them.

She had to fix her parents' relationship — despite the way the both of you avoided each other like a plague.

"Charlie, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, your mom looked like she was ready to kill your dad the second he stepped into the hotel." Vaggie looked up her, eye brows creased in doubt. She was never one to doubt her girlfriend, but the King and Queen of Hell could easily kill all the sinners within the snap of their fingers if pushed far enough.

"They may be upset with each other but we won't get anything done if they keep walking eggshells around each other!" Charlie rubbed her forehead and began to pace the foyer, eyes glowing red in frustration. "Besides, my dad regrets ever yelling at my mom. She just... She doesn't know it because they're both too stubborn!"

Charlie's horns poked out before settling, steam releasing from her mouth. She waved a hand over the room's door and let the enchantments settle before whisking Vaggie away. "Anyway, we have to try and do this. If we don't, we can say goodbye to the hotel forever."

"Charlie, sweetheart, what are we even looking for? I can barely see anything in here." You huffed and moved cobwebs away from your face, snapping your fingers to produce small flames. When you didn't hear her respond, you turned around only to be met with the eyes of Lucifer Morningstar himself. "Where's Charlie?"

"Wha— Uhm, she shoved me in here and told me to look for something." Lucifer squeaked out and waved his hand around, letting golden whisps illuminate the small space. "I didn't realize you would be in here."

You rolled your eyes and continued to push away old pieces of furniture, doing your best to ignore the tugging in your chest. However, Lucifer couldn't help but stare. You were just as gorgeous as the day you met, and the lights shining across your face only took his breath away.

"Do you know what we're supposed to be— Lucifer!" You frowned and dragged a hand down your face in annoyance, letting the flames go out. "You know what? I can't deal with this right now."

You moved to the door and tried yanking it open, only to jerk backward. You looked back at Lucifer before trying the door again, this time the handle burning your palms. Wincing, you glare at the door and call out for you daughter.

"Charlie Morningstar, you come here and unlock this door!"

"Not until you and dad make up!" She shouted through the thick door, mind forcing herself to be confident. "And don't even try using your magic because I will send you back in there."

"Charlie!" You groan and bang your forehead on the door, shutting your eyes in disappointment.

Lucifer tugged his hat down to cover his face and moved to sit on an old crate behind him. He couldn't face you. Not yet. Not when you refused to even meet his eyes properly. It was like the Heavens purposely wanted to see him suffer.

Finally admitting defeat, you sat on the opposing crate and held your breath. You didn't think seeing him would affect you so much, especially since it had been cartularies since you last saw him. But Lucifer was always full of surprises and you knew Charlie got that trait from him.

You blew out a breath and spun your ring, eyes glued to the wooden floor. "Why did you do it?"

Lucifer peeked past his hat and looked around the room like it wasn't just you and him. He swallowed and shifted his gaze over to you, pursing his lips when he saw your wedding band. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it, not knowing what to say to you.

"Why did never try and stop me from leaving?" You whispered out and watched his body stiffen.

"I..." Lucifer shook his head and buried his face in his hands, voice muffled. "I don't know."

You brows creased and clasped your hands together, wanting to stop your fidgeting. "Lucifer, you promised to keep your family safe and you didn't even try to get me to stay." You stared at his hands, eyes hardening at the sight of his own wedding ring. "I don't understand—"

"Because you were so paranoid that something horrible was going to happen to us!" Lucifer finally burst and stood from his spot, eyes red and face contorted in dissatisfaction. He began to pace the small room and rubbed the back of his neck, voice cracking. "You were so overprotective of Charlie that you wouldn't even let me near her somedays."

"You were handling the Heavens, Luce! Did you think I wanted to keep her away from her own father? I didn't want her dead from the hands of an exterminator." You paused at the thought of your daughter ever dying from the hands of a supposed holy figure. When Lucifer shook his head, you wiped a stray tear and turned away. "You never understood what I was trying to tell you."

"Neither did you." He stopped his walking and stared at you with solemn eyes. He knew you tried your best to protect Charlie, but he wanted to protect more than his daughter. He also wanted to protect you, but you never understood his plans to do so. "Sometimes I think you wanted to pretend this wasn't our reality, but it is."

"Was it my fault Heaven kicked us out?" You bit your bottom lip and finally met his eyes, watching them soften instantly. You tilted your head to the side and frowned, "You told me you'd love me for all time but the second we landed in Hell, our time was cut short wasn't it?"

The look in your eyes broke Lucifer's heart even further. He always hated arguing with you and for the first time in so long, he wanted to freeze time and just hold you.

"You may think I've been perfectly fine without you, but nursing a broken heart absolutely crushes a person." You whisper before standing and walking toward the enchanted door, muttering your own reversal charms.

Lucifer reached out to you before pulling back, his own eyes glossing over. "Angel..."

"After we help Charlie with her hotel, we're done, okay?" You stay by the door and refuse to face him, doing your best to not have your voice waiver in heartache. When you didn't hear a response, you gripped the handle harder. "Luce?"

"Okay." He murmured back and tapped his cane to the ground, vanishing to a different part of the hotel.

You choked on your tears and covered your mouth, letting your heart completely dissolve to nothing. You knew crying wasn't going to help, but you had to try and be productive. Afterall, you were the Queen of Hell.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[midniqhtt]

james buchanan ‘bucky’ barnes

masterlist • marvel • 07/08/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs two

one

𑣲 jealousy and flirtation I @kinanabinks

There's nothing you want more than Bucky Barnes - but you and his best friend, Juniper, seem to have that in common.

𑣲 sesame and the sweetheart I @/kinanabinks

You've been on a few dates with Bucky now, and the sexual tension is at an all-time high. After another cute date, you realize you can't keep your hands off him for very much longer

𑣲 the sound of love I @/kinanabinks

𑣲 beneath the milky twilight pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 drabble I @bucksangel

Being Mr. Barnes’ personal assistant has been tough, balancing a full time job while taking care of your younger brothers has you running yourself thin. Then, things take a sharp turn after a dinner with your boss when you disclose your financial situation.

𑣲 give me a minute I @/bucksangel

𑣲 the spark I @/bucksangel

James Barnes, the bane of your existence, the man you swore to stay away from. Though his naturally good looks and charming smile may fool many of the women around you, you refuse to fall into his trap. It gets harder to do with every interaction you have with him, and when Bucky gets taken by Hydra, you're forced to face your feelings or risk losing him forever.

𑣲 until we meet again I @/bucksangel

The Blip changed everything and everyone. With Bucky now gone, and a toddler to raise, you find yourself leaning on Steve for support, as he does with you. What happens when, five years later, Bucky returns to find his best friend and best girl raising a kid? His kid.

𑣲 sniper I @adrinktostopyourthirst

Reluctantly, you get thrown into an assignment with Bucky and Yelena, but Bucky doesn't trust you as far as he can throw you. When he's proven to be correct, it turns out you're still a hell of a good team.

𑣲 pride and privacy pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 pt7 I @/adrinktostopyourthirst

Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.

𑣲 don’t tell bucky I @lives-in-midgard

After a night out with Natasha and Wanda reader gets drunk and tells someone about her secret crush on Bucky.

𑣲 mine I @thestarkinternship

When you went out for drinks with the team one Friday, you had no idea that this was how the night would end: with your back pressed flush against your bedroom door, a shaking thigh hitched over your boyfriend's shoulder and his pretty mouth daring you to completely let go for everyone to hear.

𑣲 welcome home…soldat? pt2 pt3 pt4 I @winterarmyy

Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' every time he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.

𑣲 until then I @/winterarmyy

A mission back in time brought Y/N to an unexpected encounter with the man she fell in love with.

𑣲 guess i’m just good with them I @amathslutsguidetofandom

𑣲 big, strong man I @/amathslutsguidetofandom

𑣲 unwanted I @scoonsalicious

When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn't be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

𑣲 sleepwalking I @lanadelreyscokewhor3

when your boyfriend bucky wakes up with the winter soldier mindest, you do the only thing you know how to do- comfort him. he does the only thing he knows how to thank you- possessive sex. 

𑣲 ease my mind I @wkemeup

When Bucky is drugged into a coma plagued with nightmares and his heart rate has risen to dangerous levels within his sleep, you are the last resort to wake him before his heart gives out. But you must enter his mind to do so; enter... his nightmares.

𑣲 canyons and valleys I @/wkemeup

Bucky’s violent history is written upon his body like a map; scars he cannot bear to look at in fear of the monster in his reflection. When Bucky is forced to put his scars on display, he’s certain you’ll take one look at him and run.

𑣲 in shades of purple I @/wkemeup

While on a mission, you uncover footage of the Winter Soldier Project, exposing just how much torture Bucky had endured.

𑣲 behind the storm I @/wkemeup

On a mission, you're hit with a spell that takes away your ability to see. Bucky does what he can to make you feel safe.

𑣲 lavender I @/wkemeup

Not every nightmare is the same and Bucky doesn’t always wake up as the man you know. 

𑣲 graveyard pt2 I @/wkemeup

As the unofficial healer for the Avengers, you pride yourself on the ability to mend heroes with the touch of your hand. Only, your gift comes at a heavy price — one you keep secret from your friends —and when Bucky asks you to do the impossible, they’ll discover why your gift is called a sacrifice, too.

𑣲 play pretend pt2 I @/wkemeup

When Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help.

𑣲 american tattoo I @seventven

steve and bucky run a tattoo shop together in brooklyn. y/n, a friend of steve’s, decides to get inked. only bucky is present at the shop and he’s about to close it for the night. 

𑣲 the other guy I @/seventven

pietro proves to y/n that bucky is into her by doing everything in his power to make him jealous

𑣲 i’m begging for you (take my hand) I @allyouneedisbuck

bucky doesn’t do love, you love bucky. being friends with benefits makes sense, right?

𑣲 please thy neighbor I @jurassicbarnes

𑣲 what a night I @/jurassicbarnes

Bucky Barnes is out in the new world, navigating through everyday life and its trials and tribulations. His therapist insists he tries new things. He has collected a few new hobbies. But when it comes to making new acquaintances, what’s a better way to meet new people than a little dating site called Tinder.

𑣲 paper thin walls I @watchmegetobsessed

𑣲 upstairs I @onceuponastory

Bucky Barnes is constantly annoyed by his cat Alpine going to visit his upstairs neighbor for treats. That is however, until Bucky meets his new upstairs neighbour Y/N. Who Bucky definitely isn’t in love with. Not at all. Turns out that a 106 year old man might know more about love than he first thought. And that cats can make excellent wingmen.

𑣲 burn the witch I @dreamwritesimagines

There’s a thin line between mission and love, and spies aren’t allowed to cross that line.

𑣲 unrequited I @bccky

you realise that you are in love with your best friend, only for him to confess that he loves someone else.

𑣲 raw I @buckysboobs

she just wants bucky to fucking destroy her insides and rearrange her guts, but bucky's scared so he rejects her before another one of their love making sessions. she gets mad so making him jealous is the only way left to get him to fulfill her fantasies.

𑣲 after hours I @bucksfucks

it’s hard to focus on your PhD when your supervisor is none other than Professor Barnes.

𑣲 stress relief I @/bucksfucks

they say an orgasm reduces stress—bucky puts that to the test.

𑣲 the two of us I @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky go to investigate the phenomenon happening in Westview, New Jersey. While attempting to understand the issue, you yourselves are sucked into Wanda's world of pretend. Now, you believe yourselves to be the happily married Mr. and Mrs. Barnes; in real life, you are most definitely not a happy pair. It is up to you and Bucky to piece together what's happening while dealing with one another inside the hex.

𑣲 crawling back to you I @honeybunchesofbucky

After your breakup with Steve Rogers left you heartbroken and lonely, a night in with a bottle of wine gets interrupted by a familiar face; Bucky Barnes, who’s on a mission to show you what you’ve been missing out on.

𑣲 little boy blue pt2 pt3 pt4 I @samingtonwilson

𑣲 his baby I @inkedbybarnes

bucky won't call you by your name.

𑣲 damn bear I @lanabuckybarnes

Sgt Barnes wins you a bear at a carnival. What he doesn’t expect nor like is when you give it more attention, Bucky shows you that he’s better than the bear.

𑣲 angst request I @imyourbratzdoll

bucky flirts with sarah to make you jealous, forgetting that you aren't as secure as you come off.

𑣲 home is where you are I @buckys-wintersoldier

when you hear someone talking about Bucky you offer them your help to find him.

𑣲 fondue I @duuhrayliegh

bucky and steve’s daughter have been dating secretly for over half a year, this is how steve finds out.

𑣲 unleashed I @veltana

During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.

𑣲 a forbidden invitation I @thevillainswhore

You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.

𑣲 donut: the hole story I @jobean12-blog

When you stop at your favorite donut shop to grab some sweets on the way home from work they only have one left of your favorite flavor so you do what any other person would do...even though it's your husband's favorite too.

𑣲 fancy restaurant I @/jobean12-blog

Nat works her magic and 'accidentally' double books you and Bucky for babysitting. The kids don't want either of you to leave so you end up babysitting together and thanks to some imaginative play the night progresses perfectly.

𑣲 goes with the theme I @navybrat817

Bucky thinks his suit goes with a gala theme. You slightly disagree.

𑣲 loose ends I @sarahghetti

He picks up a photo on a bookshelf and Bucky sees her face, her smile between him and Steve and- He’s breaking down a door, she’s screaming. Metal around her throat, nothing more than choked gasps from her mouth--he does not want this memory back

𑣲 actor!bucky I @buckyalpine

𑣲 blackwidow!reader I @/buckyalpine

𑣲 unclear I @inkedbybarnes

everyone thinks you’re dating bucky, except yourself.

𑣲 sneaky I @malum-forev

Bucky has been acting extremely suspicious recently and Sam and Steve have noticed, but what they find out isn't the answer they were expecting.

[yandere-daze]

I´ve had this idea plague my mind for the last few days and now it´s finally time for me to unleash it onto the world. Feel free to comment on or ask questions about this idea/ AU if you find it interesting!

This work was inspired by the normalized yandere genshin AU I stumbled upon while scrolling through Tumblr, created by @fancyfeathers

Hope you enjoy!

gn reader

2,2k words

tw yandere, normalized yandere behaviour, mentions of obsession, possessiveness, kidnapping, stalking, murder, emotional manipulation and isolation

Yandere! Genshin Academy/Normalized Yandere AU

In this AU, yanderes are a normal and accepted part of society. Not only are their toxic attitudes and behaviours permitted but even encouraged. Somehow, over the years, people have even started to wish for a yandere as their partners. By Teyvat society at large, yanderes are seen as somewhat of an ideal partner. They´re fiercely loyal and would do absolutely anything for their darlings, right?

And yet, many darlings sing a different tune when reality suddenly comes crashing down onto them when a yandere actually starts pursuing them. Fantasizing about things such as being kidnapped is simply something entirely different compared to experiencing the real thing. And yet, when they call out for help from their loved ones, they´re simply patted on their back and congratulated. Some might even express their condolences to the poor yandere, saying that it always takes a bit of time for a darling to realize that this is for the best.

You are one of the few people who are completely horrified by the concept of a yandere and even more so to see everyone around you treat kidnappings or murder sprees as something completely normal or even romantic. You shudder at the thought of ever attracting the attention of a yandere, knowing that you would have no one to help you avoid that dreadful fate.

Which is why your complete world is turned upside down when you´ve been registered at the wrong academy by mistake. An administrative error, you were told. One, that might take a few weeks or even months to correct.

Now normally, you would have been annoyed but fine with this. You would just have to bear with it for a bit and attend a different school until the error is fixed and you can finally go to your desired one.

But you felt a pool of dread form deep within you when you did some research on the academy you had been wrongly assigned to. It actually wasn´t all that easy to find information on the academy, which you found strange, seeing as this has never been an issue with any other well-regarded academy. But no matter how much you search, nothing concrete is to be found. Only a few abandoned forum posts where people asked around about their missing friend who had last been seen close to the academy in question.

It made you feel a bit uneasy but you figured that it probably didn´t have anything to do with the academy itself. As sad as it was, disappearances were happening all over Teyvat, so this one case wasn´t really of note.

But seeing as you couldn´t find anything else, you figured that you would just need to figure things out on your first day attending the academy.

And oh, were you in for a nasty surprise.

As soon as you sat down for your first lesson, you noticed how strange the atmosphere was. Everyone had been staring at you so strangely when you entered the room, it kind of unnerved you.

After that, a few introductions were exchanged and you slowly calmed down again. Your classmates seemed nice enough and you thought that maybe, your time here wouldn´t be so bad after all.

All that quickly changed when your professor finally entered the room and introduced himself as the instructor who would teach you the subject of "stalking".

Turning your head left and right, you tried to see if anyone else was as shocked about this as you were but to your surprise, no one even raised an eyebrow at this very concerning introduction.

A class on stalking? Maybe this wasn´t what you actually feared and more so a clumsy way of saying that this would be a psychology class focusing on the mental effects stalking has on the victims? With all these yanderes running around unchecked, there were bound to be many victims and so a class like this might actually be beneficiary. I mean surely they wouldn´t actually try to teach young adults how to kidnap someone, right?

Right?

Well, it turns out you were wrong when the professor started outlining different forms of stalking. Following "your darling" around, stalking them online, placing cameras or microphones in their rooms to observe them anytime you wanted.

Your mind was spiraling as you listened to the lecture and you briefly wondered at just what kind of an academy you had been enlisted in. Surely this must be some kind of joke, right? A prank played on newcomers at the academy to get them spooked? Surely someone is going to come in any moment, clear all of this up and then laugh at you actually falling for this?

But no matter how much you hoped for this to be the case, no one was coming. No one was making fun of you for falling for such an obvious prank. In fact, none of your classmates seemed perturbed at all by what was being taught here. How could they be okay with a lesson that basically amounted to "how to stalk someone 101"? You felt like you were losing your mind.

Glancing to your right, you see your blond deskmate eagerly nodding along to whatever the professor was saying and swiftly taking notes whenever a sentence seemed to particularly strike a chord with him. His red eyes practically sparkled as he outlined "helpful tips and tricks for not alerting your darling of your presence" on his paper, using a text marker to highlight a particular passage as if to say that it would come in handy in the future.

On your left, you saw another tall male student and for a moment you hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was someone else here who was bothered by the lecture given. He had a bored look on his face and he was wearing some type of headphones over his grey hair. Was he even paying attention? Maybe he was trying to cancel out the horrific lecture taking place at the moment.

You discreetly leaned over a bit, only to see that he was actually holding a book hidden under the desk, his eyes carefully following the paragraphs of tiny letters. Well, it seems like he certainly wasn´t paying much attention to the lecture because what he was secretly reading seemed to be some advanced material on the success rate of different methods of stalking, from the looks of it.

You quickly turned your head back when you saw him glancing over at you with an unreadable stare. Well, it looks like your hopes were dashed again after all. This guy was nuts too.

Knowing this, you really couldn´t do much aside from waiting for class to be over.

Your small hope that this was just a really strange outlier was quickly destroyed again in your following classes.

Next was a class on emotional manipulation and how to get your darling to depend on you.

Then, a class on how to force yourself into your darling´s life and how to approach growing closer to them.

Finally, the day ended with a lecture on how to kidnap your darling and make them disappear without a trace.

As the bell finally rung, the professor informed your class that there was also an optional class about how to effectively "get rid" of a rival that you can sign up for. You pretended to not be bothered when several students raised their hands to show their interest in attending this course.

You scrambled to get out of your seat as fast as possible, not wanting to stay in this hellish classroom for even a second later. You fled into the hallway and walk by groups of students excitedly chattering about things you didn´t want to listen to.

"Oh, I hope I can find my darling soon! I just know I´ll feel a special connection when we first make eye contact! I´ve been waiting for so long", the first girl swooned as she twirled strands of her long brown hair around her finger, seemingly lost in her own fantasies.

"Agreed. I know that once I meet my darling, I won´t let anything get between us. I will never let them go. It´s only a matter of time", the taller, blue-haired woman chimed in, her voice calmer than that of her excitable friend.

You didn´t like the way her eyes linger on you as you pass by them.

Once home, you tried to make contact with the administrative office again to ask them if the process of your transfer can be sped up in any way. You didn´t want to spend another second in that academy.

With what you have seen today, you were easily able to deduce the true nature of this academy and it left you absolutely terrified.

The fact that you weren´t able to find any information about the academy beforehand, your strange classmates fixated on their potential "darlings" and of course the horrid classes being taught there.

Somehow, you have ended up in an academy for yanderes. Every single person you saw there today was a lovesick lunatic in some shape or form. And the more you thought about it, the more you realized you were in huge danger there. What would your crazed classmates do if they ever found out that you actually weren´t a fellow yandere but someone they could claim as a "darling"? The very thought of it makes you sick. You have to get out of there immediately!

Which is why your heart dropped when after some long hesitation, the person on the phone finally answered you.

"You must excuse me but I´m afraid to tell you that there have been some... unforeseen circumstances that do not permit me to work on your case at the moment. I have been asked to postpone this matter until further notice".

"What? Why?", is all you could manage to say in your befuddlement. You knew bureaucracy can take a long time but for this woman to specifically be asked to postpone this? Just what was going on here?

Again, the woman on the phone hesitated to answer and you could hear a tinge of nervousness in her voice when she finally spoke up. As if she wasn´t sure if she was allowed to say what she was about to.

"I´m afraid that I´m not at liberty to provide this information. The person asking me to...focus on different cases for the meantime wished to stay anonymous. Even so, it is not within my power to refuse their wishes as they have provided our establishment with a generous donation. I sadly cannot help you with this issue", at least the woman did sound generally apologetic but that didn´t really help you in this situation.

Your mind was still reeling as you processed this information. Someone specifically asked for your transferal to not be worked on? Why would anyone do this? And they seemed to have a large fortune too? Why all this to make you stay around?

It can´t be that you already attracted someone´s attention while at the academy, right? Surely that couldn´t be true! You made sure to not interact with anyone directly after you realized just what kind of people attended this school. How could one of these yanderes have "fallen for you" already?

It seemed so utterly unbelievable and if you were being honest, you didn´t want to believe that it was true either. But nothing else made sense. Why would anyone do this otherwise?

Noticing your prolonged silence, the woman spoke up once more.

"I´m sure that all of this will be resolved soon. It will only be a few months. I am sure you will find many friends at your current school soon."

You sure hoped not. The thought of being noticed by any of the yanderes already made the hairs on your neck rise. You vowed to stay away from anyone who even showed a fleeting interest in you. You had to keep yourself safe until you can finally switch schools. You could do this, you had to!

You barely registered when the woman bid you farewell and hung up the phone after you once again didn´t answer her.

Now completely alone, you forged a plan. If you didn´t want to get involved in anything dangerous, no one could find out that you were actually here by mistake and not a yandere. Nothing could be worse than these lunatics finding out that you´re a darling, so you´ll have to be very careful. But how do you do this?

Well, it seemed like you must act like a yandere yourself. You would have to pretend that you´re a lovesick fool who totally isn´t bothered by all this talk about kidnapping, stalking, and murder. Thinking about it again already made you sick but you didn´t really have any other options. No one could find out or it was over for you.

You only hoped that you could convincingly play the part and that no one was perceptive enough to see right through you. Well, it couldn´t be that hard, right?

Surely no one already had their eye on you. Right?