#this month was good practice for coloration

[oatmealthighs]

plug!eren x blackfem!reader

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 contents: nsfw 18+, MDNI. reader indulges 🍃, eren is overprotective, public sex, maybe semi public? idk. daddy/mama usage. might be some slightly toxic dynamics. but nothing too serious. rushed ending cus i suck at endings 💔 a sequel full of fluff will be coming soon out of this.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 author's note: omg i haven't posted in like months. but anyways what would i be without dropping the token plug!eren drabble. nothing too crazy, just some bathroom sex. also there are instances where there are texts but i got too lazy and didn't bother making texts out of them mwahahahaaa sorry in advance. this is barely proofread and not my best so if there are mistakes i am sorry. requests are open! also look out for a tengen x reader x wives fic coming really soon. like this week soon

the feeling of your phone buzzing in the back pocket of your true religion jeans whisked your attention away from the pearled blunt you had pinched between your fingers.

your glossy lips curled into a little smirk, your acrylics clicking at the keyboard of your screen.

you've been pushing eren's cute lil buttons all night. honestly all day... but you didn't feel bad for making him sweat. he's been trying you as of late.

you and eren were supposed to be spending some quality time together last night, and he was specifically supposed to be over your place by no later than 8:00. you had the whole shabang... bath and body works candle burning out, led lights on and set to the color purple, some of his favorite snacks and some dinner and dessert you had wrapped up for him that you had made earlier. you were planning on watching a show with him, giving him a scalp massage while he played his playstation that he always brought whenever he came over, and give him the best head he's ever received that night before riding him into the sunset, but all those plans went soiled. 8:00 came, and on the dot he had sent a text message about him having to go make a few more drop offs, then he'd come to you. 8 turned to 9, then 10:30, then 1... fucking... AM.

was it fucked up you didn't answer the door when he came knocking finally? kinda, but the guilt didn't last long when you thought about how he practically stood you up.

eren was a popular plug on the university you attended. you knew friday is usually the day that people were trying to cop, given it was majority people's payday and the weekend, but you were hoping that he would close up shop early just this one time for you. his clientele would live-- there were plugs by the dozen on campus. but eren knew wasn't none of them fucking with his shit. you weren't sure what other outcome you were expecting. he never turned his head away from possible income.

eren already knew he fucked up, but he knew ultimately in the end it was going to be worth it. the extra money was going to go into play towards his proposal to ask you to be his girlfriend, and no amount of your anger was going to get that out of him. he was prepared to keep his mouth shut, throw away the key, and take his lashings like a man. so when he was met with radio silence, he was flabbergasted.

when he pulled up to your crib and didn't get an answer from him knocking on your door and calling your phone, he figured you fell asleep and resulted in retreating to his abode. the next morning, when he woke up to find that you didn't respond to his apology texts from last night, it made him sit up in his bed and squint at his phone with crust-ridden eyes.

no response? it was so unlike you. usually you would respond with a barrage of text messages stating your feelings, or at the very least he'd get a passive-aggressive dry text from you. but to be met with nothing at all made his gut twist in a disgustingly vexing way.

he rubs at his temples, sending you a "good morning baby" text before opening the safari app and going to the local floral shop's delivery site.

later that afternoon, eren's sitting in his blacked out durango when he receives email confirmation that the flowers have been delivered, the low hum of the strong engine the only thing somewhat soothing his frazzled nerves. he made sure to get your favorite, and tried to ask them to incorporate your favorite color as much as possible.

he checks your location as he hits his blunt, releasing the smoke from his mouth and inhaling it through his nostrils. he already knows your home, having your schedule downpack. and you were. so why didn't you say anything about the flowers? did you not like them? he sends you a text, saying, "i sent you some flowers," staring at the screen and awaiting your response.

yess, you know he sent you flowers, and you loved them. you had gasped when you found them on your porch, bright and vibrant in color and smelling so freshly sweet. you had already cut the stems and put them in some warm water in a lovely vase. you almost wanted to text eren, to tell him how much you loved them and thank you, but the strong annoyance you had from last night still lingered. with a twist of your lips you disregarded your phone on the kitchen counter, humming a tune as you moved about the kitchen to prepare you a nice lunch.

eren releases a defeated sigh as he puts his jay out, not even in the mood to smoke anymore. mopily, he clicks off his phone, shifting his gear to drive to make more plays.

he spends the rest of the day pondering ways to possibly pull a conversation from you, and a lightbulb flickers in his head when he recalls you saying you were running low on weed. eren always gives you gas free of charge, one of the special privileges that comes with being his favorite girl. he opens his phone to text you again.

doechii's expressive voice flows through your speaker at a volume level most would call excessive. but you didn't care. anything to drown out the annoying pensive thoughts of eren's sexy little face. "i ain't a killer but don't push me, don't wanna have to turn a nigga guts into SOUP BEANS!" no, really, doechii.

your phone vibrates on your vanity as you rummage through your closet for a cute outfit to wear tonight, striding over to your phone with nimbleness. you figured it'd be hitch, since you and her were accompanying each other to the kickback tonight and she was asking either what time you wanted to go or what you were wearing. your hypothesis was proven incorrect when you saw eren's name on your notification wall instead. just him asking if you wanted to him to drop off some more weed for you.

your heart twinged ever-so-softly at the thought of you ignoring your baby. you missed him. it was embarrassing to say this was the longest you went without talking to him. but how would he know you were serious if you just gave in now?

you wanted to respond and tell him you were cool. hitch was bringing the weed tonight. but you refrained, if anything that would get him all the more riled up. eren doesn't like you smoking others weed, his reasoning being he doesn't "trust their product." he was so sexy when he was protective. you remember when you told him you copped from someone else when he had to go off campus for a little bit to see his family, and he spent a half hour inspecting it on the scale with his phone flashlight.

eren let out an irritated growl after constantly checking his phone for 10 minutes, still no reply from you in his notifications. he wanted to tell you you were dragging it, but he knew you weren't. you had every right to be pissed with him given he had promised you this quality time and swore he would make time for you. you were never a stickler for too much attention, but with eren always on the run it was easy for him to neglect you. he's been getting better at it though. until last night.

connie's name flashes across eren's phone screen. he slides the answer button right and lets his car sync the call to the radio. "yo."

"what's good, man. you coming to the kickback tonight? it's gonna be at jean's place." eren rolls his neck until he hears it pop. he knows you'll be there.

"yeah, i might come. today's been slow. don't got nothin' else to do."

"damn, i know that voice. what'd you do this time?"

eren weakly chuckles at connie's intuition. "what can i say, business was booming like crazy last night. we were supposed to hang out but my phone just kept ringing."

connie let out a long sigh over the line. "typical eren, never knows when to close shop." he pauses. "you know you're the asshole, right?"

"yeah," eren groans, shutting his car off and putting his phone on speaker. "i know. i plan on making it up to her."

"yeah, how? surely not with some weed and dick." connie snorts. "[name]'s a nice girl, you plan on locking it down with her anytime soon? i see the way floch be looking at her."

"he wouldn't dare," eren denies, the simple thought of it just making his eye twitch. while you and eren weren't official, basically everyone in the friend group and the vicinity knew y'all were on each other bad. but some assholes just didn't respect boundaries. he noticed floch's gaze would linger on you a little longer than he deemed appropriate. how they would trail your body. he noticed the way his cheeks would blush when you would speak to him in passing or make small talk.

"i dunno, man," connie instigated, smugness in his voice. "but, bring a quarter with you. it's on me, i'm gonna zelle you."

"just send me $50." eren and connie exchange a few last words before they end the call, leaving eren in silence as he stares at the gray wall of the parking garage he was parked in. he didn't know what he was gonna do about you.

eren always tended to look the sexiest when you were mad at him, or he was upset with you. he always would wear his hair down, taupe tresses brushing his broad shoulders. he'd always wear a black tee and some baggy sweatpants that always had you imagining what it was he had underneath. it was nothing you haven't seen, but it was always a pleasant surprise.

you felt your defiance wavering when he and all is glory walked in to jean's house, high as fuck. you swore you could smell his ysl cologne from across the room.

"you okay girl?" sasha questions, her eyebrows pinching in concern as she leans into your eyesight. you blink your mascara coated lashes, giving her a smile.

"yeah, my man just walked in. he always looks so good when im pissed at him."

"it's a trap. don't fall for it." hitch scoffs, her hazel eyes trained on the blunt she was busy rolling. her thighs were squeezed together to keep her carebear rolling tray in place. "don't even look his direction."

"i forget hitch is such a hard-ass. how does marlo manage," ymir jokes. historia chuckles, her head resting against her girlfriend's broad shoulder.

as their conversation goes on, your eyes can't help but find eren again through the decent amount of people crowding the bottom floor of the house, watching him interact with connie and hand him a bag of what you assumed to be cannabis. his turquoise eyes cut across the room, and you know he's looking for you. you look away before any eye contact can happen. when you feel eyes burn into your skin, you know he spots you.

the night involves you acting as if he doesn't exist, keeping your back turned and acting like you're too busy to acknowledge your phone notifications. when you finally light the blunt hitch pearled, you know eren texts you asking where did you get that. you chuckle to yourself as your thoughts were confirmed when you snuck a peek at your phone.

eren feels anger welling in his body as he watches you from a safe distance, lounging against the wall and his eyes never leaving you. you knew what you were doing at this point. wearing them jeans that made your ass sit so perfect and a crop top that teased at your skin and your belly button piercing. your hair was in curls, and your glittery lip gloss shone in the low light of the room. he knew you probably had on his favorite perfume too. that vanilla one he loved so much.

"just go talk to her dude," connie yells over the aggravatingly loud jersey mixed song that was booming through the surround sound, his words slightly slurred from the drink he's been sipping on. eren furrows his thick brows as he hits his spliff, watching the tip burn bright orange as he shuts his eyes for a moment. "and you better hurry. i think tonight's the night floch makes his move."

"connie, shut the fuck up." eren's tone is firm and warning as he feels the vein in his neck rising to the surface of his skin. he finally opens his eyes, glancing at you, and what he sees makes his stomach cave and everything around him turn red.

floch, with his ugly fucking haircut and that ugly dangling earring had the audacity to be all up in your glory, smiling sheepishly as you were saying something to him. he doesn't know what you were saying, your back was to him, but the way your head swayed and your hands were moving he knew you were talking.

honestly eren was never this defensive of someone before. maybe it was your constant insistence of you being fine on your own. "boy, i'm grown," you'd say to him. it only made his instinct to protect you grow stronger.

he knew well you could handle your own. but how fucking dare him?! it's like floch was begging for an ass whooping!

he wasn't actually. he was begging for you to send him the homework answers for your chem class. "not gonna lie floch, i haven't even looked at that shit yet," you admit with a shrug, your lips pulled into a friendly smile.

floch groans as he rubs the back of his neck. "i'm for sure gonna flunk that class. i might just say fuck it and retake it next year."

"not if i can help it," you interject, furrowing your brows. "we pass together, we fail together. i'll send you the answers on groupme tomorrow when i finish."

floch pumps his fist. "man, you're the fucking best, [name]. if you weren't in there i dunno what i'd–"

a hard body brushes past floch, harshly and intentionally slamming his shoulder into theirs. "hey, man, what the–"

you smell eren before you see him, wearing that delicious cologne that's stained into your bed sheets. you look up to find him looking down at you, fire in his sea green irises as he glares at you.

you feign oblivion, lifting an eyebrow at him. "hey," you speak first.

"why haven't you been responding to my texts." his voice is curt, but still soft nonetheless. you feel your girls looking at you intently to see how you were going to play this.

"been busy, sorry," you respond, not sounding much too apologetic.

eren cuts his eyes to the right to see floch still standing there, much to his distaste, a look of confusion plastered across his face. "you need somethin'?" he asks him, a foreign, cutting edge to his question.

"i was just trying to ask her about the homework, dude," floch bites back defensively, taking the smallest step back.

your dainty hand trails up to grab eren's forearm, your soft, irreplicable touch quelling his aggravation. you swear you could feel his taut muscles relax at your contact, knowing he was probably deprived. so dramatic.

"eren, calm down," you reprimand him gently, but sternly. you gave floch an apologetic glance. "sorry, floch. see you tuesday."

floch nods, his auburn eyebrows creased in the middle as he glanced at eren, then back at you, before departing. in tandem, you let go.

"what's your problem," you seethe, but not loud enough for your friends to hear. "you damn near made that boy shit his pants."

eren sucked his teeth, closing his eyes to roll them as he clenched his jaw. "why are you ignoring me, [name]," his low voice is strained, constricting his internal anger to the best of his ability. his high was blown, the music was too loud, you smelled and looked too good, it was all too much.

you place a hand on your hip, your beautiful eyes passive, but holding a glint of hurt behind them. "just collect your breath. i don't wanna talk about it here... even though you know what the problem is-"

"yo, [name], wanna hit this again?" saved by the bell.

"yes, pleaseeee," you drawl. you turn on heels, but not before telling eren, "i'll see you later."

shortly after eren departed to god knows where, and you got high as hell, was when you received that text. and you don't know if it was the marijuana making you fuzzy and horny, the growing urge to just be in his arms, or what, but you complied.

as you brushed and weaved between drunken bodies, you couldn't subdue the underlying feelings of anxiety that swelled in your chest. you didn't know what to expect. but you knew one thing for certain, you were gonna give eren a piece of your mind tonight.

when you finally made it to the bathroom door, you released a breath you didn't even realize you were holding, shaking yourself of your jittery nerves before your knuckles rapped against the hollow wood of the door.

it wasn't even three seconds before eren cracked the door, and before you could say anything, you were yanked in.

you squealed at his presentation of strength, the butterflies in your stomach downward-diving straight to your core. "well, damn! what happened to hello? how are you?!"

eren ignored your playful reprimanding, instead using the time to soak and drink you in. you were so pretty, fussing at him like that. the way your glossy lips twisted as you spoke on about nothing relevant, the way your hair swayed with every movement you made. every muscle in his body urged him to kiss you, breathe you in.

"whatcha call me in here for? it's hot as hell..." you murmured, leaning against the cool wood of the door in attempt to catch your breath.

eren was quiet as he loomed on the opposite side of the bathroom, half-lidded cyan eyes carefully trained on you. you lifted your eyebrows with a shake of your head, prompting him to go on, your arms crossed against your glittery chest. "you're so pretty," he hums, a side smirk playing at his lips, showing his pretty white teeth that you wish you were nibbling on you just about right now.

"can't smooth-talk your way out of everything, eren," you resisted with a strain in your voice, turning to face the mirror to the left of you instead of him. "i'm still upset with you."

"rightfully so," eren agrees, slowly closing the distance between the two of you, backing you against the cool oak wood of the bathroom door. "'m sorry baby, you know i love spending time with you more than anything in this world–"

"i beg to differ," you interject. eren rests his eyes as he clenches his jaw, withholding a sigh. "all i asked was that you put me first for one night... and you couldn't even do that."

"baby, listen to me." eren's large hand engulfs yours, the warmth of his palm spreading through your limbs like wildfire. "words can't even begin to express how deeply sorry i am. i know i fucked up... i know. but, i had reason i've been wanting to work a lot more often as of late." he pauses. he couldn’t possibly pop his question in a bathroom at connie’s party. you’d hate him ten times more than you already do in his moment.

you cock your brow, looking up at him through those pretty lashes that framed your eyes so well. “i’m waiting, eren.”

he sucks in a deep breath, making the sound he usually makes when he’s about to say something you don’t like. “just… trust me. okay?”

that was enough to make you head for the door, reaching out to twist at the knob before he grabs at your wrist. “man, move,” you mutter, over the bullshit. you were over it all: the lies, the empty promises. and you were especially over being crowded in this bathroom with him, because you felt your resolve faltering with each passing second you remained in his presence. you felt like an animal resisting every primal instinct and bone in your body, begging you to let him touch you. it was borderline pathetic.

“you aren’t going anywhere, [name].” he meant that in more ways than one.

“how much you wanna bet?”

the frustrated glint in his aquamarine eyes and the knit in his thick brows made your knees give.

“ummm, have you guys seen [name]?” hitch asks after a good thirty minutes fly by since you first departed the group, skating her eyes around the living room with a quizzical glance.

ymir snorts. “you already know she ran off with that boy,” she exhaled the smoke she was holding in her chest out towards the ceiling, running her long fingers through historia’s golden locks. “wouldn’t be surprised if she already dipped off with him.”

not quite. instead, you and eren were still in the bathroom, your ass on the bathroom counter and your head resting against the mirror as eren was crouched before you, low to the ground as he slurped at your pussy like a man starved. he looks up at you from his place between your thighs, tongue flicking at your swollen clit before taking it into his mouth to suck on it whole. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your eyes rolling behind your closed eyelids as eren gazed up at you with hearts in his eyes. you were always so fucking beautiful, whether you were mad at him, grinning at him, or cumming for him.

“fuuuck, i think i’m bouta cum again,” you whimper, your eyebrows pinched as your orgasm brewed at a slow boil within the pit of your stomach. you already left your mark all over the marble sink, leaking down your thighs, and all over eren’s chin. but when was that ever enough to satiate his thirst?

“do it, baby,” he breathes, french kissing your pussy before speaking again. “you know i want it.”

“get it outta me, then,” you retort, a sexy simper pulling at your lips, and the darkened glare he have you through heavy eyelids made your pussy squeeze.

his big hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging in your skin as he begins rocking your lower body up and down, sliding his long tongue from between your pussy lips to your ass with each bounce. you let out a squeal of surprise, your pink toes wriggling as he just kept doing it, over and over and over. you hear him, moaning with each stride, reveling in the saccharine taste of you. his dick felt like it was bouta break, restricted to his boxer briefs, and he felt the sticky precum leaking on his thigh. he needed to fuck you. but he always prioritizes you over all.

your orgasm bust inside you, your pussy profusely contracting as your juices coated eren’s face. “fuck, yeah,” he encourages in you, his voice in a low growl of satisfaction. he didn’t stop, cleaning you up and slurping your pussy clean. you flinched as he left a final loving kiss to your aching clit, and he chuckled as he stood to his feet. your eyes couldn’t help but look at his crotch, you couldn’t help but smirk at the prominent tent of his stiff dick being held hostage in his sweatpants. “turn around for me. i want you to see me fuck you.”

you slid off off the counter, ringing your panties off the ankle they were hanging on to, before turning around, leaning against the sink and arching your back. you looked back at him, gazing at him tauntingly. “whatchu waiting for?”

“cool it,” he warns you playfully, his thumbs hooking into the bands of his sweats. "don't bite off more than you can chew."

"i've had mouthfuls of you. i promise you i can chew."

"look at the mirror."

you turn back forward, looking at eren in the reflection. he was so pretty, his hickory locks tousled around yet still framing his face beautifully. his bottom lip was pinched between his teeth as he shifts his pants to fall below his knees before rolling his briefs down his thighs. he lifts his tshirt up, showcasing his tan abs that had a slight shimmer of perspiration as he readies the head of his dick at your opening. then, with steady hips and a deep breath, he pushes forward.

him putting his cock inside of you was such an irreplicable feeling, you don't know how to explain it. to feel his girth stretching you, giving you a burn that was so deliciously good, always made your head spin. you whine, pushing your ass back just a little bit to help eren bottom out in you. he cusses under his breath, grounding himself with a hand on your ass cheek as his pelvis met flush against your tailbone.

you felt his dick twitching inside you, and you couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan as you let your head drop against your arms folded over the sink. eren grit his teeth, his jaw clenching as he tries to regain his composure. you were so warm, so wet, so greedy judging by the way your pussy squeezed him like a vice. any sudden movements and he was bound to nut in you.

suddenly, the bathroom knob jiggles, followed by pounding against the door. you jump, your muscles stiffening as fear tickled at your tummy. eren hisses, his nails digging crescents in your cocoa buttered skin at you tightening around him. "uh, anyone in there? i gotta piss!" connie. what are the fucking odds.

"uhh, give me a few minutes!" you yell, your voice uncharacteristically shrill from your newborn anxiety as you looked back at eren with wide eyes. "maybe we should-"

you were shut up with one, heavy stroke, eren almost completely unsheathing himself before bottoming out in you again. your words died in your throat, replaced with a gasp.

"uh, okay...?" the end of connie's okay drawls up in the end. "wait, [name], is that you? are you straight in there?"

"yes... fuck, yes!" you sputter out, squeezing your eyes shut as eren picks up his speed a bit, but not his power. he was gonna do you a favor and not fuck you too dumb in here. he wants you to at least have some chance of walking out of here on your own two feet. "i'm fine!"

"okay, okay! i'll just go upstairs." after a few seconds, you hear connie shifting away, but that genuinely wasn't your main focus. eren was rolling his hips, making sure the tip of his dick hit that sweet spot that made you sing with every. single. thrust. your head was down, resting against the counter, your eyes stuck in the back of your head as you took every inch of him with grace. your moans were mere whimpers, trying your best to muffle them with the inside of your arm.

eren sees his phone vibrate from his place on the hanging shelf beside him, and he smirks to himself when he takes a brisk glance at the banner:

convict: [name]'s in the bathroom. she didnt sound too great so u should prolly check in on her

eren groans under his breath, leaning forward to mold his abdomen against the curvature of your spine. that motion was enough to make him feel like he was touching your stomach. "what are you doing?" he purrs, flicking his tongue out to lick at the shell of your ear. he feels you shiver, your shoulders shuddering as a sex-soaked cry escaped your lips. "i said i want you to watch me fuck you. why are you hiding that pretty face?"

you had nothing but a pathetic moan to offer as a response, and he scoffed to himself, a smirk curling at his lips. he stands straight, both of his hands settling at your lovehandles as he begins sending you to poundtown. the impact of his hips against your ass was loud, and there was no doubt that if anyone came to the door they would hear you getting the shit fucked out of you. "be a big girl, mama," he muses. his hand reaches for your curls, gripping your tresses to pull your head up and back. you squealed, your eyebrows pinching at the burning sensation. you mustered up the courage to flutter your eyes open to be met with the godly sight of your man, looking down at you throw those thick eyelashes, his cheeks tinting pink from the overwhelming heat of the small, crammed space. " watch me while i fuck you."

his wish is your command as you watch him through teary eyes, licking your lips at the feeling his hand snaking up the arch of your spine to come around and grip your chin. the pads of his fingers rest on your cheeks, slightly squeezing as he snaps his hips against you from behind. his eyes are boring into you, clouded by lust with a hint of adoration, watching the way your face contorts into pleasure-ridden expressions. he's watching the way your plump lips wrap around his thumb, the way your titties bounce with every deep thrust and threaten to spill out your victoria's secret bra and tank top, the way that fat ass jiggled and made waves every time he drilled his dick in you. you were perfect. from your pretty face, to your loving heart that had a padlock with his initial on it, to your gushing pussy that would squirt all over him just for him.

"this pussy is so perfect," eren hums, looking down in awe as he watches the way you cream and squeeze on his shaft. "it's like it was made just for me. was it, baby? this is just my pussy, right?"

"you know that, daddy," you slur, feeling your orgasm coming to a head. you were so ready to release, your pussy just aching to cum. you hear him give a chuckle, his hips speeding up in tandem.

"i think you're ready to cum now. i want it all on my dick. can you do that for me, princess? or is that too much to ask of you?"

but before you could even muster a response, it was as if a tsunami hit your pussy, because the way your juices sprayed against his upper thighs was a damn shame. eren lets out a moan of appreciation, biting his lip as he lets your orgasm ride out and coat his dick. he gives your ass a few appreciative cracks, making you tighten around his cock until you managed to collect your breath.

eren slowly begins unsheathing himself from you, his dick still solid as concrete but he honestly wasn't concerned with getting his own nut off right now. after all, this wasn't going to be the last time he was to be in you tonight. as soon as he takes you back to his place, he was gonna fuck you through the mattress and the bedframe.

...

"girl, there you are! you've been missing for like, an hour!" you bumped into hitch on your way towards the front door, eren being your guide but you squeezed his hand to let him know to stop. she shifts her eyes to him, then looks back at you with an "oh-i-see" look. "you headed home?"

"yeah, eren's gonna take me."

"okay, be safe," hitch adjusts your shirt, tugging the top hem over the shadows of your peeking bra. "call me when you get in."

"she will." eren assures hitch, and she nods, the two of you slipping away from the crowd and going off into the night.

[luvluu]

Hello I hope you're having a good day I have a request for Chishiya, we visit him in the hospital after the whole Shibuya incident

Lillies… Shuntaro Chishiya

A/N: this is my first request and I’m so excited but scared omfg😭 so I hope you liked this because I rlly did! I feel like it has a lot of backstory but I hope you like it idk(I’m nervous ok?)

Please leave more request because they make me so happy idk why(love you all sm😭💕)

————

Shuntaro Chishiya x reader

Fluff❤️‍🩹

TW: insults.

WORDS: 900

REQUESTED: YES/NO

————

It had been months since you had a meal with your friends. You and Chishiya had been very busy lately agreeing on all the details of your wedding, which was to be held in December. Ever since you were very little, you had always dreamed of getting married at Christmas, with a white dress/suit to match the color of the surrounding snow.

Chishiya, on the other hand, had never had much interest in getting married, nor had he had much interest in love. His dreams were not related to having another person, but that changed when he met you. He knew how excited you were about getting married and although he had never thought about it, seeing himself together with you for the rest of your lives was something he didn't want to pass up.

It was during the spring festival. You and Chishiya went to a park, to a part a little out of the way of practically everyone. The pink petals were falling on your heads and you were looking around in delight, Chishiya knew that you always had a soft spot for that festival, you loved to see the city turn pink.

You were standing next to him, talking about how beautiful you found the scene when Chishiya knelt down in front of you and took a small box out of his pocket.

“Would you grant me the honor of spending the rest of my life with you?”

You were a tearful mess, not even bothering to try on the ring as you bent down and hugged him tighter than ever.

You were talking to one of your friends when a call came in. At first you didn't answer, it was probably the wedding ambassador asking for the seventh time in a week what kind of flowers you were going to want; but after persistence, you decided to answer.

“Are you the fiancée of Mr. Shuntaro Chishiya?” Someone asked behind the phone, you frowned quizzically.

“Yes, yes, it's me” you affirmed, moving a little away from your friends to speak more calmly.

“I'm calling from Tokyo hospital, your fiancé has been urgently admitted due to a meteorite that has affected the entire Shibuya neighborhood.”

No, it wasn't possible. You guys didn't even live near that neighborhood, what was Chishiya doing there, was he okay? Your mind clouded with negative thoughts. You weren't ready to lose the love of your life, no one was, but you... you just couldn't, not so few days before your wedding.

Without even saying anything to your group of friends, you got in your car and drove as fast as you could. The streets were in chaos. The road was full of cars, all on their way to the hospital while you could see smoke coming out of the Shibuya neighborhood.

It took you almost an hour to get to the hospital, an hour in which all you could think about was whether Chishiya was well. You were afraid that it was too late and that when you arrived you would be given the news that he had not held on long enough and had already died, but you refused to believe it.

You rushed into the hospital, more desperate than ever, and asked at the front desk about the room. Not bothering to wait for the elevator, you walked up seven floors and carefully opened the door.

Chishiya was in a shared room. There was a black-haired boy with half of his face covered lying on the bed next to Chishiya's. Your fiancé seemed relatively calm. He had that usual calm expression, as if he hadn't been on the verge of death.

“Shuntaro” you whispered with relief to see him safe and sound. “Shuntaro” you said now in a louder tone. Both men turned to look at you. You circled around another boy's bed until you reached Chishiya's and knelt beside the bed, hugging him tightly and shedding tears on his chest. “You scared me to death.” You felt his arms wrap around you and stroke your hair.

“You're overreacting...” he laughed lightly, you looked up to meet his eyes.

“Shut the fuck up...” you said, hugging him again. You clung to him as if he was the only thing that mattered to you. "What were you doing there? You asked in a broken voice, looking into his eyes, which were duller than normal.

“I think I want Lilies at our wedding...” he said, intertwining his hand with yours.

“You're an idiot.” You said and he wiped away your tears with his free hand. He moved to the side and you lay with him on the small hospital gurney.

Chishiya didn't remember why, but holding you in his arms again comforted him, as if he had been wanting to do it for months. He didn't remember, but if he won every game in Borderland he did it so he could go home to his fiancée.

“Chishi…” you whispered, feeling his hand stroking your hair.

“What?” He asked in a soft tone, keeping you as if you were made of glass.

“I love you.” He kissed you in the head as he heard your words.

“Love you more”

You couldn’t imagine a life without Chishiya, but he had to spend two months without even knowing if he would ever see you again. You would die without Chishiya, but he survived only because of you.

[satellite-evans]

farmers market

Pairing: Harry Styles x pregnant!reader

Summary: Harry takes his pregnant girlfriend to the farmers market :)

Word count: 1k+

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Saturday mornings had become your favorite part of the week, especially now that you were six months pregnant. There was something about the air in the fall that made everything feel crisp, fresh, and alive. You breathed it in deeply as you and Harry approached the farmer’s market entrance, the golden sunlight filtering through the trees and creating a beautiful radiance on everything. The sounds of the bustling crowd, the chatter of vendors, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze all added to the charm. For you, this was the perfect way to spend the morning—slowly strolling through the stalls, picking out fresh produce, and taking in the delicious aromas that surrounded you.

Harry, on the other hand, loved watching you. There was a joy in your eyes every time you came across something that caught your attention—whether it was a basket of perfectly ripe peaches or a bouquet of wildflowers. He found himself smiling more, simply watching you enjoy the little things. Though his schedule was often packed with work, he didn’t mind these outings. In fact, he insisted on them.

"I can't believe you actually woke up early for this," you teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder as the two of you made your way through the market entrance.

Harry adjusted his sunglasses, his hand still wrapped around yours. He squeezed it gently before responding, "Hey, I have my priorities straight. You, our little one, and fresh strawberries."

You grinned at him. "I knew you were just here for the food."

"And the company," he corrected, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. He lingered for a moment, his fingers brushing your skin. "You sure you're up for this? We could’ve just ordered everything online."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. "Harry, I’m pregnant, not fragile. I’m not going to break. Besides, I want to pick things out myself. You know how picky I get when it comes to cravings."

He chuckled, his hand gently resting on the small of your back, guiding you as you walked. "Yeah, I remember. The great pickle debacle of last month."

You groaned, covering your face with your hand in embarrassment. "Don’t remind me. I still feel bad for that poor store clerk."

"He survived," Harry teased, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face as you reached the first stall. "And now we have a whole shelf stocked with pickles at home. We're prepared for the next craving, love."

As you approached the stall, a burst of color filled your vision. Strawberries. Plump and bright, their sweetness practically radiated from the basket. You couldn’t help yourself. A soft gasp left your lips as you reached for a carton. "Oh my gosh, look at these strawberries! I need them."

The vendor, an older man with a wide grin and a straw hat, chuckled at your enthusiasm. "Good choice, dear. These are the sweetest berries you’ll find this season, grown just down the road."

Harry smiled at the vendor, then at you. "Perfect. We’ll take a few cartons, please."

The man winked at you as he handed over the strawberries. "Craving strawberries, huh? Must mean you’re having a sweet little one."

You laughed, resting your hand on your bump. "Seems like it."

Harry watched you carefully, his hand brushing yours as you inspected the fruit, a soft chuckle escaping him. "You know, love, if you keep eating them like this, our little one is going to come out looking like a strawberry."

You raised an eyebrow at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Should be no problem for you, since you only sing about fruit and... other things."

Harry’s face broke into laughter, shaking his head as he squeezed your hand a little tighter. "Alright, fair point. Guess we’re a perfect match then."

As you both moved down the market path, you spotted a stall selling honey, its glass jars glistening in the sunlight. Your eyes lit up, and without missing a beat, you tugged Harry toward it. "Ooh, fresh honey!"

The elderly woman behind the stand greeted you with a warm smile. "Well hello, dear! Looking for something sweet today?"

Harry wrapped his arm around you protectively, as if to shield you from the bustling crowd around you. He glanced down at you, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "She’s been craving everything sweet since she got pregnant," he said, his voice soft, his gaze lingering on you.

The vendor’s smile widened. "Ah, a little one on the way! Congratulations, dear. I’ve got just the thing for you—this wildflower honey. It’s perfect with tea or drizzled over yogurt."

You took one of the jars into your hands, turning it over in your palms as you inspected it. "We’ll take two jars, please," you said with a smile. You could already imagine the honey paired with some of the fruit you had bought.

Harry leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "At this rate, we’ll have an entire pantry of honey, jams, and fruit."

You nudged him with your elbow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Says the guy who could probably live off protein shakes and fruit."

He grinned down at you, leaning his head against yours for a brief moment. "Hey, fruit’s good for you. And clearly, our little one agrees."

As the two of you continued down the market lane, Harry remained ever the protector, placing a hand gently on your lower back whenever the crowd got too dense or people brushed by too closely. He made sure to stay close, watching you like a hawk as you darted from one stall to another, carefully selecting items that would satisfy your cravings. His protective nature seemed to grow stronger with each passing day, and you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of love in your chest every time he touched you.

You stopped in front of a stall selling freshly baked bread. You picked up a warm loaf, its crust golden and inviting, and breathed in deeply. "Look at this bread, H!" you said, holding it up to him. "It smells amazing."

The baker, a jovial man with flour-dusted hands, beamed at you. "Fresh from the oven this morning, love. It’s a market favorite!"

Harry inhaled the rich aroma of the bread and nodded. "Alright, we’ll take two. One for you, and one for the baby."

You giggled, shaking your head at him. "You’re going to use the baby excuse for everything now, aren’t you?"

He shot you a mischievous grin. "Absolutely."

Next, you came across a stand selling handmade baby clothes. Harry’s eyes softened the moment he saw a tiny knitted sweater. His hand lingered over the soft material before he held it up to you, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at this. Think our little one would like it?"

An elderly woman behind the stand smiled warmly at the two of you. "Oh, that one’s made from the softest wool, dear. Perfect for a little bundle of joy."

You felt your heart swell in your chest as you looked at Harry. Your voice wavered slightly. "I think they’d look adorable in it."

Harry’s fingers gently traced the top of your arm, sending a warm shiver through you. "We’re really doing this, huh?" His gaze softened as he brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. "Baby, family, all of it."

You smiled, your heart full of emotion. Resting your hand over his, you looked up at him with a soft, affectionate smile. "Yeah, we are."

As the morning wore on, your bags filled with fresh produce, honey, flowers, and baby clothes, Harry remained a constant presence at your side, his protectiveness never wavering. He kissed your forehead whenever you stopped to look at something, always keeping a careful eye on you as the crowds grew thicker.

You were about to make your way to the car when Harry glanced at the overflowing bags in his hands, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Think we went a little overboard?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "No such thing when it comes to fresh fruit."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "You and your fruit obsession. I’m telling you, if this baby’s first word is 'peach,' I’m blaming you."

You shot back with a laugh. "Alright, but if their first word is 'kiwi,' or ‘watermelon’ or ‘cherry’ then I’m blaming you!"

Harry pulled you closer, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "Alright, love. Truce. Let's go home and make something delicious with all this."

And as the two of you walked back to the car, the morning sun warm on your skin, you knew that these were the moments that would stay with you forever—simple, quiet, full of love and anticipation.

[deluxewhump]

The Fundraiser

Cameron takes Zee to a fundraiser and someone from Zee’s home state recognizes him. Middle of frathouse arc timeline.

CW: bbu, previous identity

On an overcast Saturday morning in October, Cameron told Zee to shower and get dressed. He obeyed, and when he came down the stairs a grey windbreaker was thrust into his arms. He followed Cam out the door of their off-campus house and ducked into the passenger seat of his car. The door was stiff with the cold. He had to pull it firmly in order to get it to shut again. It slammed louder than he’d intended and he winced, waiting for a reprimand. None came.

“Cam?” he asked, trying to gauge his mood by his reaction to his name alone.

Cameron turned his eyes to his passenger as he turned the key and his 88’ Mustang growled to life. He was wearing khakis with a navy university hoodie and his green eyes were sleepy but not stoned. “What.”

A what with no inflection was a good response from Cameron. It was neutral, not fake-friendly but not tinged with warning, either.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh.” He actually laughed as he checked his dash’s gas gauge and rpm’s. The needle jumped and dipped as the Mustang idled in the unseasonably chilly air. “Nobody told you, huh?”

Zee shook his head. A few months ago, Cam would have let him ride in mystery or said something cryptic to make him nervous. Something like questions are above your rank, aren’t they? Or why spoil my fun, Z2?

But lately Cam had been more tolerable. Zee didn’t know if this was because he’d finally figured out what it is Cam wanted, which was not a perfect WRU product but a self aware, would-be equal demoted to the rank of subordinate— someone a little afraid of him but not too much, someone who would give him pushback if he went too far, but submit if he persisted. The other explanation was that it could be some strange change of heart after the time he’d come into Alex’s room and hung out with them. Maybe he just got sick of the performative bullying he’d spent so much of his hard earned money on for laughs, and was moving on. Either way, Zee was just glad moving on looked like more eye contact and conversation between them, and not being locked in a room somewhere forgotten, or abandoned to the brothers he considered even worse.

“Chapter fundraiser,” Cam answered mildly as he reversed out of the overcrowded driveway and onto the street. Zee could smell the car’s exhaust, and something like drifting smoke from a backyard brushfire in the dry air.

“A color run. You know, like a 5k but they dump a bunch of colored powder on everyone as they run? I’m manning a photo-slash-donation booth at the finish line today.” He pulled into a Dunkin Donuts half a mile from their street, on a divided highway dotted with office parks and medical buildings, ENT’s and orthopedic clinics with meticulously maintained black mulch landscaping.

The Dunkin had cream siding and tan trim, like it was trying to blend in with a more sophisticated neighborhood than its bright pink and orange colors warranted. Cam parked out front and absently told him “sit.” A few minutes later he returned with two cardboard gallon-boxes in each hand.

“Coffee and hot chocolate,” he said, setting one by Zee’s feet and the other in Zee’s lap. The warmth of its sides felt delicious on his hands. The Mustang’s heat was touch and go. “How anyone goes straight from a 5k to hot chocolate is beyond me, but I do what I’m told.”

Zee didn’t think it would be that hard, for people used to running in all sorts of weather. He’d seen Dominic mainline back to back tuna melts not ten minutes after a practice that had him as soaked in sweat as if he’d been swimming. Cameron was discerning and catlike in comparison— economical with his movements, apt to go a full day without eating and not even notice.

The thought of food made him hungry, but he was with Cam today, which meant he was on a Cam schedule. If Cam happened to eat, he might be offered food. More than likely though, Cam would have nicotine for lunch and not eat until much later when he was high. He put the thought from his mind.

The event site was already packed with people. Zee carried the gallon containers like dumbbells while Cameron got a backpack out of the trunk and led the way to the finish line. Their booth was already assembled. Anthony Shorey, always in shorts even if there was snow on the ground, was there with his hands crossed over his chest and tucked under his armpits for warmth, talking to a couple of girls wearing white hoodies and pastel leggings.

One of the girls saw Cameron and did what was meant to be a cutesy whine of his name, dragging out the N at the end. She saw Zee and her eyes slid to the boxes he carried. “Ohh, what’d you bring?” she asked, ignoring Zee entirely.

“Coffee and cocoa,” Cam answered, lifting his arm as she tucked herself under him into a hug. “Help yourself.”

There were two races scheduled, he learned. One started at eleven and the second at one. Sunlight was breaking weakly through the clouds as Cam set up their gear— a scannable QR code he taped to the table, a card reader, a cash tip jar with their Greek letters taped to the front of it. A cardboard box that had been left under the booth contained color run event lanyards and t shirts, which he set up tabletop in neat rows.

Zee set up the drinks on his end of the table, closest to the photo booth. He sat back in one of the plastic chairs and startled like an idiot when something touched his legs. It was a blanket, and Cam was holding the other end of it. A quick scan of his surroundings told him neither Tony Shorey nor the girls in running clothes from the next booth had noticed his flinch, but Cam had. He gave Zee a centimeter’s tilt of the head that Zee had begun to understand was an olive branch, a momentary reassurance of truce. Zee tucked the blanket around his legs and torso. “Thanks,” he said softly.

The first run brought waves of color-spattered participants past their booth, with many stopping in to take post-race photos together with their magenta, indigo and canary-yellow faces, hair, and clothes. Cam chatted and sold t-shirts. Zee spent most of his energy on just trying to look normal, glad he wasn’t covered in colored powder and made to run with his ankles tied closely together or something equally stupid. They would’ve if it was a frat backyard event. This was too big, too public. For all anyone knew he was a brother.

As the waves of completionists came through following the second race, he was more comfortable. David Shoaf brought new Dunkin containers and paper cups and replaced the nearly empty ones on the table. He took Cam’s place and Cam disappeared to a nearby booth where Zee kept glancing over his shoulder for him, uneasy being left without him in the way he used to be uneasy without Alex or Dominic. He was talking to a group of guys, two of which were covered in powder, and one girl, a ponytailed Amber Malloy who was not.

“Jamey?!”

Zee’s attention snapped back to the booth. In front of him was a twenty-one year old named Marshall Sains. His brain knew it immediately— provided the name with the face that was looking into his with a mixture of surprise and the specific delight that comes with encountering the deeply unlikely. Though Zee knew him immediately, it took a moment to place him. He rarely thought of anyone from before, except for the judge and his own mother, though he tried very hard to block those thoughts, banish them to his subconscious. There was discomfort in his life that he could control and discomfort that he couldn’t. Thoughts of before— of who he really was, belonged to the former category.

Marshall Sains belonged to before, he realized slowly. Not a brother, or a friend of theirs, or a guy someone knew who came around sometimes. Not a teammate of Dominic’s he recognized or one of Alex’s siblings. Marshall Sains was his friend in highschool. They had biology together, and B lunch. He drove a Toyota Camry, and his star athlete older brother had died in a car accident in 2010. People still stopped him and offered condolences when he was a junior in 2014, Zee had witnessed it more than once.

“N-no,” he muttered weakly. Absurdly. Adrenaline flooded his gut like a writhing pile of snakes. A group came out of the photo booth covered head to toe in garish colors like warpaint. Marshall Sains studied him, his smile freezing and dying on his familiar face, a few years older now but not much changed.

He was looking at him like he couldn’t believe it, like he was looking for something that might indicate he’d made a mistake— a cluster of freckles or the bridge of a nose that was not quite right. Zee knew he wouldn’t find it. He was right, of course, he was two feet away from his friend Jamey who’d disappeared from the face of the earth with nothing but rumors of where he’d gone and why.

He’d rather they all thought he was in prison. Or dead, really. Less humiliating that way.

In his peripheral vision he saw Cameron break away from the group he’d been talking to and come slowly back over to the booth, hands in the front pocket of his university hoodie, not inserting himself in the situation but hanging casually back as if to survey the runners as they completed their race. But Zee knew he was listening.

“Jamey. Oh my God. Dude. It’s Marshall Sains?” he laughed uncomfortably, like he was waiting for Zee to admit he was just messing with him and stand up to hug him and clap him on the back. “How the fuck are ya?”

“I’m sorry man,” Zee managed in his most offhanded, who-is-this-weirdo voice. “I guess I have a twin. But I don’t know a Jamey and I don’t know you.”

Marshall grew flustered then. The group that had come out of the photo booth were trying to pour themselves cups of coffee and he was in the way. Anthony Shorey was watching the exchange now with faintly raised eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” Marshall said. “I could swear…” he looked into Zee’s face one more time, reluctant to accept that his own eyes would lie to him so boldly. Zee stared back, fully committed to his story now that the initial shock and panic of seeing someone from before had subsided. His ears still rang like someone had boxed them from the word Jamey tossed out in proximity to Cameron Byrne and Anthony Shorey and all these people who belonged firmly to after.

“You gonna buy a shirt or something?” Zee asked with a little more sting behind it than he would have liked. Marshall was a good guy. But it did the trick. He gave an awkward hands-up gesture and backed off. Zee watched his friend’s back disappear into the colorful crowd.

Cam offered to take back his post behind the card reader and Anthony gladly gave it up. Cam said nothing at first, blowing warm air into his big-knuckled hands and rubbing them together near his lips. Finally he turned to Zee, which spiked his adrenaline all over again and made his teeth clench in his skull.

“He was right, wasn’t he?”

Lying to Marshall Sains and the rest of the world was one thing. Lying to Cameron was pointless, and it would only irritate him. Zee nodded.

“Who is he?”

“A guy I knew in highschool.”

“Where was highschool?”

Zee swallowed. They’d never talked about any of it, and he didn’t want to get into it here, in the middle of a crowd of people. Cam didn’t like when he acted too much like a mindless boxie, but he didn’t think he’d like him talking about his life before either.

“Kentucky,” he answered flatly.

Cameron scanned the crowd absently. “Mm.”

Zee stared at the fine print on the back of one of the Dunkin boxes, too small to read from where he sat and therefore too small to set off the needling discomfort that reading larger font brought onto his vision like a migraine.

Cam’s hand was chilly but not unpleasant on the back of his neck. It was a gentle weight, and he squeezed lightly with only the pads of his fingers. Zee turned in surprise, wondering what he would find in Cam’s eyes. They met his intently.

“I can call someone to come pick you up,” he said. “Alex is around I think.”

“No,” Zee shook his head. “I’m good.”

Cam gave him a questioning look, and now the pads of his fingers were almost petting the back of his neck, a touch that could be controlling or casual— certainly common among fraternity brothers to clasp each other by the back of the neck like it was a scruff— and turning it into something intimate. His skin tingled.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Drink something.” He nodded towards the boxes. “Either one, just get a drink.”

Zee reached for a paper cup and fumbled with the lever of the coffee box til steaming black liquid poured out. He hadn’t run the 5k at all but he felt like he’d sprinted it— his legs were shaky and his mouth was thick with saliva. He thought sweet cocoa might make him feel sick, and hoped caffeine would snap him out of his daze.

“Atta boy,” Cameron said under his breath, sliding the hand away from his neck. It wasn’t as condescending as it ought to be, or fake, or even really meant to be heard. It sounded something like simple camaraderie, even bordering on affection.

He sipped black coffee and felt the cold air on his neck where Cameron’s hand had been.

[jaijeijayjei]

What's in a Name? - Fic

Viktor meets Mel and Jayce's daughter for the first time, and is pleasantly surprised upon learning her name. Pure fluff, AU where Viktor has recovered from his illness. Inspired by @cluelessrockcollector 's art!

Relationships: Mel/Jayce, Jayce & Viktor, Mel & Viktor.

Word count: 971

Rating: General Audiences, no warnings.

For once it was nice visiting Piltover’s General Hospital as a guest, and not a patient. Upon learning Mel gave birth overnight, Viktor immediately left to visit her.

“Viktor! Thanks for coming,” Jayce said happily, embracing Viktor before leading him to Mel’s hospital room. 

While there was always respect between Viktor and Mel, it was only recently that their relationship developed beyond mere acquaintances. 

Viktor was curious about the woman who had captured his closest friend’s heart and so an unexpected friendship blossomed. Councilor Medarda was a brilliant woman and one of the few able to match his quick wit. Unlike most of Piltover’s elite, Mel neither pitied nor derided him. Likewise, Viktor was neither sycophantic or intimidated by Mel, a refreshing difference. Although he once claimed this interest was purely for Jayce’s sake, he had developed a genuine fondness for the beguiling woman.

Perhaps he didn’t show his affection in the sweeping, sentimental ways Jayce preferred, but it was present nonetheless. Among other acts, Viktor took it upon himself to thoroughly investigate Mel’s healthcare providers (and made sure they rejected the ones who didn’t pass his standards). He also sought out Sky’s assistance in gathering herbal remedies for expectant mothers and subtly rearranged their project schedules to allow Jayce more time with his growing family. 

While walking down the hallway, Jayce enthusiastically updated him on the sudden events of the previous day and reassured him both mother and child were well. While he insisted on protecting his wife’s privacy during her pregnancy and birth, both him and Mel agreed Viktor, Caitlyn, and Ximena are always welcome. 

“Fatherhood suits you Jayce,” Viktor remarked fondly as they entered the private room.  

“Viktor! Welcome” Caitlyn exclaimed, a cup of tea in hand. Ximena gave a warm smile and gestured for him to take a seat.

Mel was seated upright in her bed, cradling her daughter. Viktor was extraordinarily curious to meet her, yet turned his attention first to his dear friend. 

“Thank you for welcoming my presence, Mel. Jayce tells me you are recovering well.”

“The pleasure is mine, Viktor. I am thankful to have such good company,” she said fondly while stroking her daughter's cheek.  

Viktor caught sight of the sleeping baby nestled against Mel’s chest. Her delicate skin was a few shades deeper than Jayce’s and she had a soft halo of dark curly hair just like her mother. He wondered what color her eyes would be.

“Would you like to hold her, Viktor?” Mel offered.

“I would be honored,” he replied softly.

Jayce walked over to carefully place the child into his nervous, yet steady arms. 

Such a delicate creature- her fragile breaths a mere whisper against his face. And yet each breath promised a lifetime of endless possibilities. Her eyes fluttered open. Amber, just like Jayce’s.

Viktor’s breath caught in his throat as her hand reached out to him, grasping his index finger. 

“And does the little one have a name?” he questioned, careful to keep his voice low. 

===============

Some months ago

Mel sat on the floor of her daughter’s nursery adding the finishing details to the mural. She was inspired by Ximena’s wistful memories of her homeland’s mountain ranges and created a beautiful landscape. 

Jayce had insisted on building most of the furniture himself. A dresser housing baby clothes gifted by Caitlyn, a crib painted blue, and a practical changing table were neatly arranged against the far wall. 

Her husband was across the room, carefully carving out little birds for his daughter’s wooden mobile. 

“How about Vivienne?” Mel called out

“Eh, too prissy for me. Clara?”

“Hm, I know too many Claras. Estella?”

Jayce gave a noncommittal hum. “Evelynn?” he suggested with a hopeful lilt to his voice. 

“Jayce, we are not naming our daughter after a pop star,” Mel sighed. 

“Worth a shot,” he shrugged. 

Although the baby would be their beloved daughter first and foremost, she would also be a scion of both House Medarda and House Talis. They knew their daughter will have the world’s eyes on her the moment she is born. Thus, she should have a strong, respectable, yet meaningful name, Mel believed. 

Mel traced her fingers over the dried portion of the painted background- a cheerful yellow that would reflect the sunshine streaming in from the skylights. The mural was full of soft, gentle colors, yet in the shadows of the trees and glints in the streaming rivers, she included accents of Medarda red. A silent acknowledgement to her daughter’s roots. 

Still, she and Jayce agreed to hold off conversations about Mel’s heritage until their daughter was older. Until she could better understand the complex feelings of respect and rejection, of love and regret. Mel wished to give her daughter a clean slate, free from the weight associated with the Medarda name. And for that reason she chose to break from tradition- her firstborn would not be named after a family member.

But there was one person she considered worthy of such recognition…

==========

“Her name is Viktoria,” Jayce murmured softly. 

His gaze snapped up at Jayce, who eagerly awaited his reaction. 

A flood of emotions rushed through Viktor, surprise, joy, and gratitude at the forefront. He thought back to his fears of being forgotten, of becoming nothing more than a footnote in history.

As soon as Jayce realized his partner’s name was missing from the Hexgate plans, he went on a tirade combing through all the documentation he could find, ensuring Viktor’s name had its rightful place. Yet now, every accolade and attribution paled next to this honor. A testament to the unbreakable bonds he has made. His legacy would be preserved, not just as a scientist, but as a beloved friend and partner.

“How… sentimental,” he muttered, unable to hide the joyful smile creeping up his face. The others laughed.

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 5

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 1200

Masterlist

———————————————————————

I was flipping through a carpet catalog, carefully selecting options for my meeting with Madame Bronze in an hour.

“Classy! She’s going to love it, I’m sure!” said Alexia from behind, who had just appeared out of nowhere.

“Yeah, if you’re the one showing it to her. She’s just going to give me an earful,” I grumbled, adding, “Come on, I’ll iron your clothes for the next month if you take my place!”

“Nice try! But I’m incorruptible, my dear.”

Unfortunately. It had been 15 days since my last meeting with Lucy. The major construction was complete, and we were now moving on to flooring, wallpapering, then furniture, interior arrangements, and decorations… quite the lineup. And on top of it, a meeting every two or three days with the Dragon herself, as she insisted. What a treat.

Alexia pulled me out of my thoughts. “Don’t forget to give her the invitation!”

The invitation… Right, I’d forgotten. It was for the celebration of our office’s one-year anniversary. We hadn’t had time or money to celebrate when we opened, so we wanted to make up for it by inviting our partners, clients, and friends.

“Seriously, Ona, it’s important! Imagine if the Mayor shows up—it’d bring in the local press for sure!”

I shrugged. “Honestly, the thought of her at our event doesn’t thrill me. And she’s not going to come if I invite her.”

“Make an effort! You can be persuasive! I’m counting on you. By the way, is Alessia coming?”

I told Alexia everything, so she knew all about my situation with Alessia.

“You never know with her… For now, yes! But, you know… it’s Alessia.”

“Are you still seeing her?”

“Yep, hard to resist!”

“Well, just be careful.”

Alexia had seen the toll the breakup had taken on me and wanted to protect me.

“Being careful means avoiding a meeting with the Dragon!” I joked.

“All right, enough joking; I’m off. Wish me luck!”

“Good luck! And don’t forget to smile!”

I walked from the parking lot to the house, just two minutes away, through pouring rain. I regretted wearing just a light jacket; I was soaked by the time I arrived, shivering as I inspected the progress. The workers had left, and we were on schedule, with tiling underway. I didn’t hear the door open and was startled by Lucy’s voice.

“Horrible weather!”

I turned, taking in the sight. Clearly, Madame Mayor hadn’t expected this downpour, either; she was in a white blouse, now practically see-through.

With a broad smile, I greeted her, “Hello, Madame Bronze!”

“Hello, Ona. Let’s go over the progress on the work,” she replied, her usual authoritative tone on full display. We went through each room as I explained the next steps and progress. When we got to the office, where tiling had just started, she gasped.

“What is this tile? It’s way too light! It was supposed to contrast with the white walls!”

“This is what you chose, I imagine…”

“No way. I’m not having an operating room as my office!” she snapped.

I took a moment to call Alexia, who confirmed that Lucy had chosen this model with her and had been advised that it was light-colored. Classic change of mood. I handed Lucy the phone, where she had a brief but animated exchange with Alexia. When she hung up, she turned to me.

“So, what do we do now?”

This woman was exasperating.

“Well, there aren’t many options. We can’t repaint the tile. Either we change the wall color, replace the tile with a darker tone, or…”

“Replace it, replace it, replace it!” she interrupted, gesturing dramatically with her hands each time she said it. This woman was exasperating—and crazy.

“All right, but I have to warn you, this will incur extra costs, as it’s not our…”

“For what I’m paying?” she scoffed. “I don’t have much choice.” She turned on her heel. “Let’s go downstairs and look at these rugs!”

She had a bad habit of cutting me off. No way was I letting her get away with it, especially if she was going to change her mind on a whim with every tile and carpet.

When we got to the large room, I was still shivering. The house wasn’t heated, and I was drenched—just like her, to my surprise.

“It's too cold in here with this rain,” she remarked unexpectedly. “Let’s go across to the café to look at everything, all right?”

The Dragon was human—she was cold. And she was asking for my opinion? Incredible! I nodded.

We ended up in a cozy little café across the street. Everyone greeted the Mayor as she entered, and she shook hands warmly with each person, smiling.  If only they knew , I thought. She took a seat across from me and ordered a glass of white wine, so I did the same. This new proximity between us amused me.

I broke the silence. “Tell me, you must shake a lot of hands in a day. And always with a smile!”

“It’s part of being Mayor. It’s usually enjoyable, getting to talk to people about what’s working and what isn’t in the city. Though it can be a bit overwhelming sometimes.”

“I can imagine. It must be incredibly demanding work!”

“It’s more than a job; it’s almost like giving a piece of yourself. Forget quiet weekends or long vacations. But it’s rewarding! And it’s not something you do forever.”

This was our first personal conversation since meeting. I knew she was on her second term and wouldn’t be running again in a year.

“So, do you know what you’ll do after?”

“Travel at first. And I’ll stay involved with the city, I imagine. Now, the carpets?”

Right. No getting too personal with her. Got it. I showed her the entire selection of rugs. She only had one small critique, practically a miracle.

“This one looks so old-fashioned…”

“I love mixing the old with the modern, so I thought a Persian rug might add something unique,” I replied with an amused look. “You could pick three, for example, and we could lay them in the living room to see which one suits it best. It’s always better than seeing it on paper.”

She gave me a curious look, a slight smile playing on her full lips.

“All right, this one, that one, and… that,” she pointed to the Persian rug she’d just dismissed. My puzzled look amused her.

“I can’t wait to see this ‘antique’ in my living room to prove how badly it’ll fit!”

And mock me in the process. I returned her smile, replying, “Very well, we’ll see!”

We finished our wine, left the café, and headed out. As I got into my car, I realized I’d nearly forgotten the invitation in my pocket. I ran after her car, yelling like mad for her to stop.  Mortifying .

“Sorry! Uh… so we’re celebrating our office’s first anniversary next week. It’s a small cocktail party for partners, clients, and friends. Here’s the invitation.”

She looked at me, slightly skeptical.

“I imagine you’re busy, so…”

“We’ll see. I’ll let you know!”

And with that, she drove off, leaving me standing there.

 Sorry, Alexia , I thought.  Not looking good for the press.

[chimchiri]

The monthly art prompt from the mlp server was 'Awakening' and of course my mind immediately went to AJ's gay awakening. Or rather, the moment she realizes that the feelings she harbors for Rara are not in fact just friendship.

Besides Rarijack, AJ/Rara is one of my fave AJ ships. I love to think that Rara probably was her first crush and camp romance.

[milkbreadtoast]

white ghost cookie🥺🤍👻

[entropyvoid]

[squuote]

cut my face up

[labyrinth-guard]

After 9-ish hours of painting, playing with Krita features, and listening to long horror related video essays, I have completed what I consider, my best piece to date Honestly I am just so fucking proud of this, I just felt like drawing my favorite 80s horror icons with some headcanon designs and then suddenly I was practicing a bunch of stuff I needed to like Shading, color variation, and backgrounds

[azidoazide-art]

monochrome OC warmup pieces from this month!

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

.

[matutito]

Freaks touching hands 💕 you get it! Also totally agree with the dark and dingy colour pallet and scratchy messy lines, it really is their aesthetic x rough and hand crafted

Also while I am here I love your rasey art and I added the song you references in your four panel piece to my rasey playlist 💕

a dark, dingy and colder color pallette feels like the night, like secrecy, a dark and grimy alleyway to hide in.

scratchy, imperfect lines are perfect for them, because they might be messy or unkempt looking, but they're also fun and bold

Raph is a freak because he's a mutant and Casey's a freak because he's queer. they are holding hands.

(also thank you !!! there's like five people who make fanart, i gotta contribute sometimes hehee)

[todayisafridaynight]

Every guy in Yakuza seems like they have enough social awkwardness for Tien to role his eyes at…

there's no feasible chance on earth any man can be more awkward than mountain man tien I'm Going To Hide From My Friends Every Other Year And Then For A Decade After Telling Them I'd Never See Them Again For No Apparent Reason And Only Coming Back Cause the World Was Literally Ending shinhan

[quibbs126]

Oh yeah, something I just remembered I did one time

So back when I was first playing Evoland 2 (which was like a year ago now, dang), I was looking for concept art, as I kind of wanted any crumbs of content I could find, and I found some concepts for Kuro, the main character (this is the original picture)

And in my head, I was thinking they all looked like they could be their own characters, so I basically made up this thing where all of them were the hero character, just each from alternate timelines where they’re each different people, and at the end of their respective stories, they disappear and end up in this strange other world, and they each meet and basically become this group all trying to figure out what’s going on, and some at least are trying to get back to their timeline

I gave them all names and some of them semblances of personalities, but to be honest I forget what most of them were. All I can remember is Gin’s probably been here longest and is rather cocky, then Ken who’s more an exasperated voice of reason, Shiro’s basically the least experienced despite not being the latest here because her adventure ended unexpectedly quickly (also she’s the only girl), Ha is the leader of the group, Yami might have been a soldier, and Aku is quiet

I named each of them after Japanese words, because the main character of Evoland 2, Kuro, has a name that means “black” in Japanese. I personally think that he’s called that because the company name is Shiro Games, and “shiro” in Japanese is “white”, so why not have the new main character have their name be the opposite of that? I don’t remember what all these names mean though

Oh also, if you notice, one of them has the same name as the original main character, Kuro. That’s because I thought that one in particular looked like the original character, just with different clothes. So in terms of the story, that actually is the original Kuro, and after the end of Evoland 2, he finds himself in this world with the other heroes, and the story is basically him trying to work to get back home

I remember I was trying to draw a lineup for all of them, but I never finished, only getting to like, number 4 or 5 in the sketch. And it was just the posing. If I ever do draw all of them it’ll probably just be waist up

But yeah, just felt like sharing this, since I thought it was neat