#until next time my homies... Good day

[princeguri66]

Back on my affectionate reader bullshit because I just want to smother those assholes with love.

TF 141 x Male! Reader

Kissing the homies goodnight.

18+ Minors DNI!

Cw: whole lotta fluff, it only gets suggestive at the end and that's it

It started with a joke. Gaz drunkenly saying "Hey, if I win will you give me a goodnight kiss?" Before you start a game of cards, you all laughed it off then. Until it starts getting later in the evening and when you excuse yourself to go to bed Soap calls out to you with a chuckle, "Ey, don't forget about Gaz's kiss" you trudge your way back to them eyes drooping. They all expect you to kick Soap or something akin to that, but you surprise them by leaning down and placing a kiss on Gaz's eyebrow before tiredly muttering a "goodnight" and walking away.

And if that didn't give them any ideas..

For the next week it was usually Soap and Gaz pestering you about your kisses being rewards.

"If I shoot all the targets will you give me a kiss?"

"If I beat him in this fight will you give me a kiss?"

It gives them such a boost of energy.

You don't expect anyone else other than them to ask you for one until you're watching a game on the telly with Ghost. "If my team wins, I want a reward like them" He says to you, referencing Soap and Gaz and you nod albeit a bit shocked.

And by a stroke of luck his team wins, you reward him with a kiss to his temple.

And when it comes to Price.. 

It occurred after a tough but successful mission, and it was all thanks to you. What you had to handle was rough but you still came back with minimal injuries.

After a quick check up and shower you head to the common room on base to lounge with your team, but when you just stepped in the area Price got himself up from the couch claiming he needs to get back to work. 

As he passed you he said a quick "Good job out there lad." And held you by your shoulder to pull you close and kiss you right on your cheek before walking away leaving you stunned.

The team saw it all of course, sitting still a bit stunned as well, seemed like your habit of kissing your homies rubbed off on the captain.

You were too focused on the lingering feeling of Price's beard scratching your face that you didn't hear Soap saying how that it's so unfair, how he also had a successful mission but didn't get a kiss from their dear captain, only realizing you've been standing there like an idiot this whole time when Soap ran past you trying to catch up with the captain to claim his well deserved prize.

And it just evolves from there, everyone gives each other kisses. 

It started off as conglatutory kisses like before, then it'll go to "kiss it better" kisses

(Like if Ghost trained so hard he gets bloody knuckles Price will kiss them better, or if Soap suffered an injury Gaz would be there to kiss his bandages, or if Gaz just had a rough day and is incredibly stressed you'd kiss his temple)

Then eventually everytime any of you are about to leave for a mission you all give a kiss to whoever's going for good luck, and when they come back it's those pushing mouth aggressively to cheek kisses happy that they came back alive and well.

And it goes to the point where any chance you get you'll exchange small kisses. Passing each other in the hall way? A kiss to the cheek. Finding each other in the kitchen late at night to grab a drink? A kiss on the forehead. One of you had a brutal nightmare? Boom, get kissed on your damn head, hell why not cuddle while you're at it? (You did cuddle while you're at it)

It doesn't take long for the kisses to trail closer to the lips, for the kisses to trail to your neck and collarbones as well. It doesn't take long for it to evolve from small pecks to heated make out sessions, desperate to feel each other's mouths even deeper. It doesn't take long for the five of you to end up swapping spit late at night, sloppily making out with whoever's mouth is open and wanting, stripping each other's clothes even with your mouth occupied.

After that it's no question to kiss the homies goodnight, hell it usually ends with more than a kiss.

[anisespice]

tokyo revengers boys when their horny but their s/o is too busy to deal with their shit? (u can add bonten-)

aye aye, anon! 🫡 needy men are my favorite flavor 🤤 thank you so much for your patience, and requesting ♡♡♡

pairing: tr x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI. cursing, vague descriptions of sex, teasing, mild nipple-play, empty threats, crack!fic coded behavior, a tiny pinch of barely-there angst in mikey’s with a hint of misogyny, and i think that’s it :D feel free to lemme know if i missed anything!

notes: something about this request screamed sano to me, and maybe even throw sanzu in the mix for a little treat ( ˘ ³˘). also may have strayed a little from the original plot of the request, but the premise is fairly the same >:)) hope you enjoy !!

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow

“Get outta there.”

Though your tone sounded stern, your demeanor remained placid as you continued typing on your laptop, making no move to actually stop the hands from creeping inside your sweater. You were well aware of their destination, and it was anything but harmless. SHINICHIRO was latched onto you the moment he arrived at your place, excited to spend his day off alone with you, and away from the prying eyes of his siblings for once. Rarely did the two of you get alone time due to your conflicting schedules, savoring the moments you did get without outward distractions in the way.

Things were going great for the most part…until your boss decided to dump busywork into your email, last minute.

“…tell ‘em to go fuck himself, so you can focus on fucking me,” Shinichiro grumbled into your shoulder, calloused hands feeling up your chest with slow, deliberate touches. You chortled, masking the small moan that nearly slipped out when he gently grazed your nipples.

“Good idea, Shin. But wait, oh shoot, fucking you won’t exactly pay my bills, now will it? So, knock it off.”

“Who says it won’t? I’ll pay your bills for the next month, hell, the next six months, if it means you’ll let me just stick it in, baby, please..”

You hissed through your teeth at the small pinch he gave your sensitive nubs, dick damn-near throbbing against your lower back as he rutted against you. Should’ve known sitting on his lap while you worked would backfire, poor thing’s so wound up, you felt a little bad. It’d been nearly three weeks since you and Shinichiro had even a second to breathe the same air, let alone touch each other.

You weren’t immune, craving a taste of him just as much, there’s nothing you wanted more than to succumb to his persuasion. But, having been on bad terms with your tyrant boss one too many times, you couldn’t afford to procrastinate.

“Shini,” you spoke, breathless as he suckled on your neck, growing more bold with his touch, “a-as much as I’d love for you to do that for me… you don’t exactly have the funds to make such an offer.”

He huffed, nipping playfully at your pulse. “I’ll get another job. Good? Good, problem solved, can you take your clothes off now?”

“Tempting…but no. Appreciate the sentiment, though.”

Shinichiro whined in the crook of your neck. His hands slowed to a stop inside your sweater, slipping down to rest on your tummy instead. It sent a tiny shiver up your spine, but was ignored all the same as you attempted to resume typing, seeming to have put a damper on his resolve. Or, so you thought.

Not even a minute passed when you felt his fingers searching for something else to play with. Something that has been calling his name since he waltzed through your front door. “Shin…”

Your warning fell upon deaf ears. Shinichiro merely shrugged, feigning innocence while his hands breached the waistband of your sleep-shorts, stopping right at your pelvic bone. Leaning back in the chair, the ravenette spread his legs further apart, forcing yours to do the same, giving him even more access to your already accessible center. Despite his lanky stature, homie had grip—Try and close your legs all you want, you’ll pull a muscle before pulling out of it. Your heart was borderline going Macarena, focus jumbled up to the point there were more typos than words in the report you tried completing.

You huffed, though your tone sounded less stern compared to the first time. “Shinichiro. If you don’t let me finish my work…I’ll ban your dick from ever entering me or this house for a whole month.”

On any other given day, that empty threat would’ve done the trick, hands flying off you so fast you’d think he got electrocuted. But, this wasn’t any other given day. This was already a two-week long hiatus of his most favorite place to be, in between your legs, and the only thing keeping him from it was your lack of underwear beneath thin-cotten shorts. Threaten him if you must, but it won’t work.

You weren’t fooling anyone.

Playing hard to get could take you so far, but he knew you were mere moments from crumbling to your desires you tried so hard to suppress, no shot you’d last another day, let alone a month. He was determined, and you were being stubborn—An immovable object verses an unstoppable force. Eventually, someone had to give. And it wasn’t about to be you.

It went on like that for another few minutes, him feeling you up and you batting him away. It only worsened the second he went further in your shorts, teasing your sex until you soaked through the fabric. You could feel his smug grin against your shoulder, no doubt thinking he was winning this battle. However, Shinichiro wasn’t aware of your trump card, your Charizard, if you will.

It’s a dirty trick. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

By slamming your fists atop of the table, startling him right out of your shorts, you turned to look him dead in the face, and said, “Don’t make me call Mikey.”

The mechanic widely blinked. But, his shock was short lived as he fixed you a sarcastic look, bringing his slick-coated fingers up to the light and right into his mouth to be even more obnoxious. After pulling them out with a wet pop!, Shinichiro called your bluff.

“You wouldn’t.”

“And would. Emma’s probably dying to catch up with me anyway, since I haven’t been around as much lately. And we both know Mikey would come just to spite you.”

As you continued to hold his stare, not backing down or giving any indication that you were joking, the sardonicism began to melt off his demeanor, and soon realization took its place. Shortly after that, betrayal. How could you be so cruel? He was already competing with an inanimate object, he’ll be damned if his siblings get added to the list. Taking a moment to weight his options, or lack there of, his face soon resembled a kicked puppy with his bottom lip stuck out and everything; you could’ve sworn his eyes started to water. “t’s not fair…been waiting all damn day…”

“I know, baby. But I need you to hang on for just a little longer f’me, okay? And once I’m done, then I’m all yours.” You cooed, placing a small peck on his nose as an olive branch. It seemed to do the trick, his frown softening as he pointed at his lips, puckering them. You snorted, but happily obliged, even placing a few more across his face until you got a smile. Shinichiro soaked up whatever he could as he leaned into you for more.

When it seemed he was satisfied, you turned back to continue working…only for the ravenette to try his luck one more time. “Can I get one here, too?”

You peered at him from over your shoulder—Give you one guess where he was pointing, wearing that all too pleased grin from before. You deadpanned.

“…I’m calling Mikey.”

“NoOO—”

—

“That’s considered sexual harassment, Mr. Sano.”

If he could time travel, MIKEY would beat the breaks off his past-self for ever encouraging you to fill the role of secretary at his work. At first, it seemed like a fantastic idea—Standing at his side, his pretty little assistant, wearing a tight uniform that left nothing to the imagination. He’d bend you over his desk and fuck you anytime he pleased, you’d call him Sir, and walk around the office filled to the brim with his cum until time to go home, then he’d fill you up all over again—The perfect work-life balance.

However, the gangster didn’t account for one teensy thing—You, actually taking the job seriously, and setting professional boundaries the moment you were hired on the staff. No matter if you’d be practically all over him in the car moments prior to clocking in, the second your kitten heels touched the marbled floors of the lobby…he wasn’t your lover anymore. He was your boss.

And he hated it.

“Sexual harass—You’re my s/o, [______].”

“Not within these walls, I’m not.” You continued reading one of the files left on your desk to review for tomorrow’s meeting, only for it soon to vanish right before your eyes. After a long blink, you held out an expectant hand to the stubborn blonde. “May I have that back, please?”

“No.”

“Mr. Sano-”

“If you address me formally one more time, I’ll take you right here in the middle of this hallway. Try me.” He hissed, holding the file out of reach.

You pursed your lips, fighting a grin. Seeing him get so worked up over not being able to get his dick wet was entertaining to say the least, but you were well aware he wasn’t kidding. Clearing your throat, you attempted to tread lightly as your expression morphed back to neutral.

“Alright. Mikey,” his eye twitched, but you continued, “would you be so kind as to let me finish reading the material for your meeting tomorrow? I would hate for anything to be amiss because I didn’t do a thorough review.”

“Tch. Where’s Kakucho? I distinctly remember assigning this task for him. Not you.”

You raised a brow. “You sent him on an impromptu errand to fill up the time he was spending ‘idling at my desk’. You remember that?”

Mikey averted his gaze. “…Don’t recall.”

“‘course you don’t,” you exhaled. “Mikey, with all due respect-”

“Not that name either.” He commanded, slapping the file back on the desk before placing his hands upon it to lean forward, towering over you. You couldn’t fight the grin this time, tilting your head up at him, amusement in your gaze.

“That’s your name, is it not?”

Mikey glared. “You know that isn’t the one I’d prefer you to use.”

With a shrug, you easily replied, “It’s what most of your employees call you. And last time I checked, that included me-” Mikey was quick to grab your chin, forcing you to look deep into his dark, deranged eyes. Man’s was definitely toeing line of his limit, and you were pushing it.

“And last time I checked, you aren’t like most employees. You’re my partner who’s working on my last nerve, and should really consider dropping this whole ‘professionalism’ act before I remind them why they were hired in the first place. And no, it wasn’t for your work ethic and attention to detail, or whatever bullshit Koko told you in the interview.”

Ouch.

Not to say you didn’t figure there were ulterior motives behind getting approved for the job, especially under the circumstances that you were heavily under-qualified to work in their type of environment. But, you tried your damnedest to keep up, do your part, and not be a burden on the team. For him to call it nonsense and boldly confirm such suspicions outloud? You think he realized his mistake the second your face reverted back to its neutral state. Wiggling out of his grip, you leaned back in the chair with your arms tightly crossed to your chest.

“That so? Well then, Michael, how ‘bout I remind you why a man shouldn’t mix his business with his pleasure. Things could turn ugly for him, maybe even end up losing both a loyal employee and a lover all in one day. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Out of all the names, that one made him cringe the most. A clear indicator of his grandiose fuck-up, one that if he didn’t fix immediately, he’d soon suffer the consequences. And your wrath.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. It came out wrong-”

“Oh, I’m sure it didn’t. You’re a man who speaks his mind, after all.”

Mikey, though subtly, panicked. This wasn’t at all how he expected the conversation to go. But, it’s not his fault! It was his dick doing all the driving. With you working for Bonten, his long hours became yours, and by the time you both got home, sex became scarce due to your exhaustion. He was immune to the taxation of the job, while it was kicking your ass. And to top it off, he couldn’t even cop a feel of his own s/o, in his own damn building, because of ‘power imbalances’ between a boss and secretary that was ‘socially unacceptable’, according to you…as you work for the biggest crime syndicate in all of Japan.

Flawed reasoning aside, it drove him insane.

But, no thanks to his lust-clouded brashness, if Mikey thought getting some action at work was difficult, his chances at home just got a whole lot worse. He’d be lucky if you even slept in the same bed tonight.

“[_____],” he sighed, reaching over to grab your hand, though you moved it away at the last second. “You do a fantastic job here, angel. Exceeded all my expectations, actually-”

“Well, based on the merits of why you hired me in the first place, that doesn’t sound like much.” At that point, you went back to reviewing the file he threw back on the desk, seeming disinterested. But, Mikey knew better.

He’d hurt your feelings. To be reduced to nothing but eye candy for him, when you were busting your ass off like everyone else, it stung. It was playful at first, but now the blonde had crossed a line. With determination, Mikey removed the file from your sight once more, rounding the desk before crouching down so he could level with you this time.

You allowed him to take your hands in his, still indifferent. Mikey spoke with a tenderness only reserved for you, one that never failed to melt any cold front you built to wane his efforts.

“I was being childish. I shouldn’t have diminished your role like that, and I apologize for making you feel like your work isn’t appreciated. I’m glad to have you as my loyal employee. Even if a visit in my office from my lover from time to time wouldn’t be too bad, either…”

His words trailed off, along with his gaze as he reminisced. You chortled, shaking your head. Mikey looked back at you, ghost of a grin on his face. “I’ll back off. Promise.”

You raised a brow, skeptical. “You mean it?”

“Mmhm. Under one condition.”

You groaned, “Mikey-”

“Manjiro.”

“Oh, is that the condition?” He lightly pinched you for the snark, resting his head on your lap. But, before you could reprimand him for his inappropriate position, your words catch in your throat.

His stare was intense as they gazed up at you with hidden hunger, the tenderness still swimming in the inky pools, but not as present compared to moments ago. Mikey licked his lips, nuzzling against your plush thigh.

“Work less hours. Don’t want you to run yourself ragged trynna keep up with the rest of us. We’ve been doing this line of work a lot longer than you have, baby. No need to overcompensate. I’m already proud of you.”

Steadily did those words make your heart melt, until your were practically mush once they’ve set in. To hear his pride in you almost made you kick your feet, for that was all you really wanted at the end of the day—Acknowledgment. Validation. Praise. And working less hours would definitely benefit in more ways than one, more so on your mental health. You won’t lie and say this new job hasn’t been a challenge, all the talk about blood, death and drugs, one could only handle so much.

“Thank you..Manjiro.” He lit up at the sound of his name spilling sweetly from your lips. “I greatly appreciate you saying that. But, what’s the catch?”

He hummed, hands releasing yours to caress your calves all the way back up to your hips. Mikey didn’t pull nor tug, more so just holding you in place as he continued to watch you like a hawk. Eventually he shook his head, tresses fluttering with him as they curtained the sides of his face.

“No catch. Work your hours, I’ll leave you be…But once those hours are up, you better be sitting pretty on my desk with your reports in one hand and your underwear in the other, waiting for me to choose between my business and my pleasure. Deal?”

—

“Pout all you want, I’m not sitting on your face.”

When you informed your darling SANZU that your Saturdays were strictly for housework, he honestly thought you were joking—What idiot in their twenties would spend the weekend doing that?

Evidently his idiot, that’s who.

Imagine his surprise when he showed up, unannounced, ready to have you on every piece of furniture, only to be threatened with a feather duster the second he went to grab your ass. “Paws off. I already changed the sheets on my bed, cleaned the bathroom, the kitchen, and mopped the floors, so unless you’re here to help dust or wipe windows, keep it in your pants, Haruchiyo.”

Needless to say, he wasn’t the happiest houseguest.

After the long work week he’s had, Sanzu was looking forward to locking the two of you in the back all weekend, going at it like rabbits with no other purpose but keep the neighbors up—Pretty much until the room stank. But, thanks to this cleaning ritual of yours, that wasn’t about to happen anytime soon. Especially not with the various scented candles you were burning to hide the potent smell of bleach and pine-sol. God, he was getting such a headache from overstimulation…and not the good kind.

“This is such bullshit,” he groaned into the couch, where you banished him after he tried to bend you over the washing machine while you were loading another basket of dirty clothes. “Why’d you even invite me over if we weren’t gonna do anything…”

You paused from folding, side-eyeing him. “I didn’t invite you.”

“You said you were staying in all day. That’s practically code for: I’m bored, come dick me down.”

Your laugh had snuck up on you, racking through your entire body to the point you had curled forward. The leap he took to draw such a conclusion nearly gave you whiplash as you attempted to regain composure. “Maybe for freaky-fucks like you, but the rest of us usually mean it as something mundane. Like, oh I dunno, doing chores.”

“On a Saturday?? What ‘re ya, 80??”

You shrugged, placing another item onto its respective pile. “You don’t have to stay, y’know. If you have something better to do, then by all means, don’t let me keep you.”

Sanzu abruptly sat up from his position, the clothes you had laid on his back flopping onto the floor, instantly losing their folded shape. You shot him an annoyed glance, but figured some of the blame was yours for using his skittish-ass for a table. The pinkette wore a pitiful look, wide cerulean eyes piercing right through you as he gave a defiant punch to the couch cushion, “Was ‘posed to be doing you! And you are keeping me from doing that!”

With a huff, you set aside the pile you were currently working through to gather up the clothes that he so rudely let fall to the floor. “Unfortunate. Now lay back down, and be a good table. Since you wanted to be chair so fucking badly.”

“Piss off.”

He absolutely laid back down.

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

can I request a Vox x reader fluff where they've both been struggling to come to terms with their feelings but when something (you can decide what) happens and the reader gets hurt really badly, he confesses

ANOOOOOOOOON!! YOU. GET ME. SO GOOD. HOW DARE YOU HIT ME UP WITH ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES?? Literally, give this trope to me as many times as yall want. I'll find a million ways to write it. Reap the repercussions and enjoy the food you beautiful homie, you!

Star-Crossed Idiots [Vox x Reader]

Vox refused to believe it.

Velvette had been the one to call him out on his shit first. Unlike him, she had a semblance of emotional maturity that meant she was perceptive to shit that flew over his head entirely. While he didn't understand why he found himself going out of his way to spend time with you, Velvette figured it out in a matter of days. The very fact that he had kept his involvement with you a secret was suspicious in itself. Not to mention, Velvette realized before he did. When she discovered his feelings for you, she found it hilarious. And a touch pathetic.

"I mean really Vox, you have zero reason to even know them," Velvette scoffed as she sipped on the frappuccino he had used to buy her silence. Things were already messy enough with Valentino. He had no intention of the pissy moth hearing of this until whatever this was, was sorted.

"Yet you constantly check in on their phone activity, go out of your way to run into them on the streets, and now they're even working for you just because your needy ass wanted an excuse to see them on the regular," Velvette listed as Vox did everything in his power to avoid eye contact.

Vox buried his face in his hands and groaned while Velvette rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't it just be easier to ask them out at this point? I love you, darling, but you're making this so much more complicated than it needs to be."

"No," Vox growled as he looked up and shot her a warning glare. "Do you have any idea how much shit we'd be in if I just started dating some random sinner? And that's only if the feelings were mutual."

He ran his hand down his screen with a huff, turning to look at Vark swimming up to the glass. While Vox had originally had the aquarium extend to the meeting rooms for a sense of looming intimidation, he'd found quite a bit of comfort in his sharks being able to follow him through the tower.

"Look, for all we know, I'm just pent up," Vox tried to reason. It sounded fake, even to his own ears, but he was in denial. There was too much bullshit he'd have to face if he really was as whipped for you as he feared. "It's been a shit couple of weeks. I probably just need a break and a good fuck and this will all be something you make fun of me about next week for ever entertaining in the first place."

Velvette shook her head, sighing as she pulled out her phone and started to scroll.

"Whatever you say."

---

You refused to believe it.

There was no way you fell for Vox of all people. For starters, you told yourself you'd never love again! Every time you'd tried, disaster followed. It didn't help that any potential match was one to be made in Hell. Granted, you knew not everyone in Hell was bad. There were a lot of sinners who you firmly believed belonged in Heaven or some sort of equivalent.

But even so... Vox was definitely not one of those people. Not that that was the important part or truly mattered. You were no saint either, you were also in Hell.

"I don't see what the big deal is toots," Angel Dust sighed as he watched you give Fat Nuggets attention to keep your hands busy through the stress. "There are worse people to have a crush on."

"There's better too," you whined. "I'd rather not have a crush at all," you muttered bitterly as your hand continued the soothing action of petting the teacup pig.

You'd originally been on the production team for one of Valentino's studios. That was how you befriended Angel Dust and why Vox scooped you out from under Valentino to work on his own set. He told you it was because he valued someone who had an ear for audio balance, but Angel said he'd only offered you the new job after the overlord walked in on the cameraman flirting with you right before.

"Why not just fuck the guy and see if it's a matter of heart or a matter of-"

You laughed as you covered Angel's mouth with one of your hands. "Okay, okay! Don't... finish that sentence. I won't let you taint poor little Fat Nuggets ears with your porn language."

Angel snickered as you pulled back your hand. "But you see my point, right?"

"I do," you sighed. "But that's... not really my style. If anything, I think it'd just hurt to see him after something like a casual fling. The idea of him wanting my body, but not me? Yeah no. I'll choose the healthier option of repressing my feelings, thank you very much."

"I'm telling ya, he's into you," Angel groaned. "I've seen the way he is with people he thinks are hot. I've seen him with Val. You're different, toots."

You smile sadly at Angel and put Fat Nuggets down on the bed. It was clear you didn't believe Angel and he was on the verge of ripping out his fur because of it. The two of you were so unbelievably oblivious it was gonna kill him again. "Thanks, Angie but... it's okay. Really, it is."

He sighed and eventually let it go. The two of you talked about other things for a while before Charlie peeked into his room to ask for your help on something. Once you were gone, he rolled over the conversation in his mind as he tried to think of ways to get the ball rolling on your love life.

Angel shook his head with a sigh and pulled out his phone. He scooped up Fat Nuggets and flopped back in his bed as the dialing sound filled the room. The line connected, and he was quick to the point.

"Hey, I know we don't really talk, but I've got an idea."

---

"Really Angie, I don't think this was necessary," You grumbled as you tugged down on the all-too-short skirt of the outfit he'd squeezed you into.

"Oh, but it was and it is," Angel grinned as he took your hand and twirled you in the entry hall to the club. You rolled your eyes and let him spin you in jest. He'd asked you to come with him to one of your old coworkers' birthday parties.

Apparently, one of the rules was to dress like you'd get hired to dance at the club. At least, that had been Angel's excuse when you questioned why he was hovering over you as he did your hair, and makeup and held up several outfits to your body that you doubted would fit.

Despite the discomfort of getting all dolled up, you were happy he'd invited you. It had been a while since you saw your old friends. That being said, it would have been more fun if you weren't tugging down your skirt every two minutes. You weren't the only one hyperaware of how much of your skin was exposed. Nor of the way the fabric hugged your frame tightly. Several of your old friends had suggested you return to the studio with a job in front of the camera instead of in the shadows of the set.

You'd been having a good time, sticking to the corner of the room with some of your old friends to watch the drinks while the rest were out on the dance floor. One of the drunker sinners of the bunch accidentally knocked over some of the drinks while she'd been telling a story about the recent cam show she did. You volunteered to go get more napkins from the bar. One of your friends came with you to reorder the ruined drinks and the two of you had nearly pushed your way through the crowd when you heard a familiar voice call your name through the noise.

Vox didn't have to fight through the crowd the way you had. The second sinners saw the glow of his screen, they were quick to move out of his path. Your friend touched your arm, pulling your attention away from the approaching overlord. They winked at you and told you they had the drink issue handled.

When you turned, you caught Vox's screen flickering from pink to his usual blue. You had never seen any color other than the "You don't get to sleep" blue light, so you assumed it was just a trick of the flashing dance lights above.

"I didn't think you'd be here," you say to break the tension. This wasn't the first time you'd seen him in casual wear, nor was it the first time you'd seen Vox since realizing you had feelings for him. Even so, your heart was beating hard just from the sight of him.

"A-Ah yeah, well," Vox stammered as the music blared through the busy room. "Velvette wanted to drop by. She said something about wanting to check the place out as a potential venue for an upcoming show."

"Just the two of you?" you ask, perking up slightly.

"It was supposed to be," Vox chuckled dryly. His grin was tired and forced as he looked to the side and scanned the room. "Valentino heard we were coming here and tagged along. I don't know why, but Velvette got really heated about it. Something about him fucking up her plans..."

"Oh," your shoulders drop. You cringe internally, wishing you could take back the bitterness in your voice. You hoped it wasn't too obvious, but the way Vox was looking at you like you were some sort of a puzzle told you everything you needed to know.

You actually loved Velevette. She was sassy and cutthroat but had a kind side to her as well. Valentino however... He'd been the source of a lot of suffering for the people you cared about. While the more obvious examples of Angel Dust returning to the hotel looking like shit came to mind, so did the times you had to comfort Vox after being yanked this way and that by the moth emotionally.

That was actually how you'd realized you'd come to care for him as deeply as you do. He'd been standing alone in one of the meeting rooms with a distant look on his face. When you found him and asked him if he was okay, he tried to play it off with his usual bravado, but couldn't. He never cried in front of you, he only vented his frustrations about Valentino and you listened. You sympathized. And eventually, you found yourself wishing you could be the one to treat him better.

Vox opened his mouth to say something, only for Valentino to slip his arm around his shoulder, appearing out of nowhere from the crowd.

"There you are baby," he purred, his fingers immediately slipping under the collar of Vox's vest. You resisted the urge to gag as Valentino took a long puff from his pipe and blew the majority of the smoke in your direction.

"I was wondering where you up and fucked off to," Valentino grinned as he leaned down to nip drunkenly at Vox's shoulder. "You left me all alone with our little fashionista, "Valentino scoffed. "She's in such a bitchy mood."

If it wasn't bad enough that Valentino was practically drooling all over Vox in front of you and pretending you weren't there, insult was only added to injury when Valentino grinned at you with sharp teeth when he called Velvette bitchy.

"Come back and unwind with me," Valentino hummed as he started to kiss up Vox's neck. "Some of my best toys are here tonight. Don't you want to play?"

If Vox had any doubt he was in Hell before, he had every reason to confirm the fact at this moment. He'd fallen out of love with Valentino, but the almost... the almost killed him. To make it worse, he was completely frozen, letting it all happen in front of you. He made no moves to stop Valentino, he made no moves to reciprocate. He simply froze.

Unable to watch any longer as Vox continued to fall for the very same game of tug-o-war he told you he was done with, you bite your lip and turn on your heel. You can't tell if you heard Vox say your name or if it was just a trick of the crowd.

"Anyone else gonna drink this?" You asked as you rejoined your friends still at the table and pointed to one of the more full glasses left on the table. When your friends who were sober enough to answer said you could go for it, you tossed it back in one shot.

You griped to one of your friends who had stayed behind to watch over those too drunk to make good choices. The two of you had been having a damn good venting session about how stupid you felt your feelings were when the entire bar swayed. Your words slurred as your body grew heavy.

One second you were sitting up, wondering why your friend looked so concerned. The next second there was a sharp pain against the temple of your forehead, followed by a heavy thunk, more pain, and darkness.

---

Vox had been desperately searching the dance floor for any sign of you. He'd torn away from Valentino and the moth hadn't bothered to follow. Vox would... handle that another time. For as much as he denied his feelings for you this morning, the second he saw the hurt look in your eyes he knew he had to tell you. There was no way he could ignore the sharp lurch in his chest at the sight of you.

He didn't know what it meant. He couldn't tell if it was just a sense of betrayal after he'd been so open with you about Valentino or if it was something more. Every time he found himself wanting to talk about his true feelings on anything, he wanted to talk to you. Every time he had a rare second alone in the middle of the night, the only touch he craved was yours. Yes, he had a history with Valentino, but he didn't actively want that. He wanted you.

He finally spotted you across the room, sitting at a table with one of the whores he'd seen at Valentino's studio and getting way too close to them for his liking. He made his way through the drunken idiots who were too far gone to notice him, keeping his eyes on you as you started swaying dangerously.

You tried to reach down for something on the table and Vox swore as you lost what little balance you had and fell over. Someone got in his way so he didn't see the impact, but somehow he heard it. Through all the noise he heard the sharp thud and the panicked swearing of the person you were with after.

Vox was suddenly shoving every idiot out of his way, ignoring their shouts as he ran into the small clearing and found you on the ground with blood seeping from your head. He was immediately on his knees, scooping you up as the sinner who'd been with you started freaking out.

The only thing Vox could hear was a high-pitched whine as he pulled you to him and tried to frantically find where you were bleeding from. Half of your head was dripping with blood and he vaguely registered your friend saying your head had hit the edge of the table.

"Just s̴̢̃ḧ̸̺u̸͇͋t̷̯͂ ̷̬̂u̶͖̓p̵̳͗!̶̳͌," Vox snapped as he whipped up and affixed the sinner with a violent glare. He didn't care that half the club was looking at him. For once, he didn't care that he'd made a scene. Logically, he knew something like this couldn't kill you, you were all already dead. But his hands were shaking violently and the buzzing in his head was getting louder because you weren't moving.

Everything around him flashed with bright blue light as he held you close and teleported out of the club without even thinking about it. The two of you reappeared in his room back at the tower and he let out a shaky breath as he placed you down on his bed.

Not knowing what to do, Vox quickly crossed the room and threw his bathroom door open as he searched for anything he could use to stop the bleeding. He was muttering furiously as he nearly ripped the hinges off the cupboard under the sink looking for anything he could use.

Vox let out a loud, angry shout as his body kept glitching. His movements were jerky and he'd hit his head on the sink twice now. Just as he was about to have an absolute meltdown, he heard you groan from his bedroom. His head snapped up and he turned around at the sound of your voice so fast he was surprised he didn't snap his own neck.

Vox yanked a towel off of the wall and scrambled across the nylon tiles as he fell into his room with all the grace of a CEO that he clearly had. He swore, picking himself up and coming over to you as you sat up and clutched your head.

"Shit, that stuff was stronger than I thought," you groaned. "Note to self, don't just chug random alcohol at the club." you tried to laugh, only to hiss as the pain in your head doubled down due to the movement.

"You're a fucking idiot," Vox sighed as he sat down next to you and lifted the towel to your head.

You flinched at the contact, and Vox grabbed your wrist with his free hand. "Stay still," he frowned, pressing again on the wound. "You're still bleeding."

Trying not to do more damage, you stay as still as possible while he tries to stop the bleeding. The silence is heavy between the two of you before you mumble quietly.

"Sorry..."

Vox blinks, frowning down at you. "For what?"

You avoid eye contact the best you can given your current condition and fist your hands on your thighs nervously. "For acting like an idiot. You've told me about how hard it is with Valentino. I should've said or done something and not have gotten..."

"Upset?" Vox finished for you quietly. You flinched, unable to read the tone in his voice. He sighed and slowly lifted the towel from your head, before lowering it. "Why did you?"

"It's stupid," you bite your lip, hand drifting up curiously to see how bad the wound is. Before your fingers could brush against your hair, Vox's hand grabbed your wrists again.

"Try me."

You couldn't say if it was due to the pain, blood loss, or alcohol in your system, but the moment you finally gathered the courage to look him in the eye, you said fuck it. Vox gasped as you surged forward and pressed your lips against his. He'd barely had a chance to process the feeling before you were already turned away from him and rambling some bullshit about how you knew he didn't feel the same.

He took your hand, ignoring the anxious nonsense flowing from your mouth, and lifted it to his lips. Your speech died on your tongue as his lips pressed against the palm of your hand.

"Do you have any idea how much you've been on my mind?" He growled softly, his lips trailing up your arm slowly as he practically worshiped your skin.

If it wasn't for the fact that your blood was still on his hands, Vox would have been so much more rough with you. He would have grabbed you and crashed his lips against yours. He would have torn the fabric that hugged your curves so tightly off of your body and shown you just how badly he'd been needing you.

Instead, he made do with tracing his claw under your chin and guiding you to face him properly. His eyes searched yours for any doubt or sign that you'd acted purely on adrenaline and not something more. When your breath hitched and your cheeks flushed, he knew. As he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, as his arms snaked down and pulled you flush against him like you'd break, as your fingers found a home in his vest he knew.

You wanted him too. You fell for him too. This wasn't a game of "do they, don't they" like the one he'd played with Valentino for so fucking long.

His breath hitched, his arms tightening around you before he slowly pulled back and laughed breathlessly.

"Does this mean we're dating?" you ask, smiling at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky.

"God that sounds cheesy," Vox grimaced. The phrase felt so... high school bullshit. But it wasn't wrong. He wanted that. He really wanted that with you.

He reached down, hesitating before his clawed hand gently covered yours. "But yeah... I guess it does," he smiled softer than you'd ever seen before.

[chernabogs]

Belladonna, Forget-me-not, Hyssop, dwarf sunflower 🌻

ouagh thank you for sending a request <3 check out the list here! <3

Inc: Lilia (both present and general), Reader, Silver, Sebek mention WC: 3.5k Warnings: War mention, arson, crimes committed during war time (all my homies hate Silver Owls). Lilia cussing, as he should. Flowers: Belladonna (a confession given without words aka we are pining mentally in the club), Forget me not (the one thing I remembered and how it brought me back to you), Hyssop (one last walk through a house—sort of), Sunflower, dwarf (how many ways do I have to confess for you to believe me?). Some flexibility with these. Summary: A trinket he had forgotten pulls him down a path of memories that he wishes he could forget.

There’s a sunflower in the garden this year. 

He thinks it’s quite curious when he first sees the bud, its petals still closed tight as though afraid to enter the world. He’s standing outside of the front door of his cottage with a mug in hand as he gives it a scrutinizing look. The silence of the forest surrounding his home lets him focus ample attention on how this oddity came to be. Silver has run to town and won’t be back until the evening, aiding Sebek in purchasing school supplies for the coming year, and Malleus is likely packing in his eagerness to get out of the palace for another ten months. 

It’s just Lilia, his mug, and the sunflower. 

“Shy, are we?” He murmurs in amusement as he raises the mug to his lips before they twist to a wry grimace. Perhaps being alone is not good for him—he’s beginning to speak to his gardens like an old man already. 

He wisely turns heel and re-enters the cottage as he downs the bitter coffee before discarding the mug in the sink. He’ll wash the dishes before Silver gets home, only because he knows the boy will do it all himself if he doesn’t, which would do nothing but make Lilia feel guilty. Silver insists it’s fine, he’s happy to help his father—but it shouldn’t be that way. His brow furrows in dissatisfaction as he weaves through the cottage's halls to arrive at his bedroom.

Contrary to his room at NRC, this one is so barren it looks downright unoccupied, like no one has ever lived in it to begin with. Lilia had moved most of his valuables with him when he had received notice of his pending enrolment alongside Malleus. This at least makes sorting out what he’s to wear today much easier as he pulls open the closet to peer inside. His fingers dance along the various fabrics as he hums, and haws, and already knows he’s going to wear the same outfit he wears essentially every day.

Lilia Vanrouge has become a man of consistency—another factor that serves to paint him as ‘old’. 

“Decrepit, even,” he grumbles to himself as he tosses his clothes onto the bed. Perhaps he can spice it up a bit to combat these self-perpetuated accusations through the application of an accessory. The thought pleases him enough to make him reach for the top shelf of his closet, his hand hitting against objects and shoving things around in his bid to grab something useful. Maybe he would have benefited from just floating up to see what he needed to get, because his hand soon hits an item that topples off the shelf and nearly clocks him in the face.

“Shit!” He snarls as he moves back. The box clatters to the floor by his foot with a loud rattle, causing him to glare down at it accusingly. His eyes narrow as another low curse slips out and he fumbles to pick the box up. 

It’s made of carved wood—oak, by the weight of it. Each etching along the sides paints a tale that draws Lilia to a stop as he turns it over in his hands. A figure perched on a tree branch with another sitting beneath, a blade and wood in hand. The two figures are next in a home, with a few flowers hanging to dry from a window. Then they are standing beside each other by a body of water; the carving here is detailed enough that he can see apprehension in one’s gaze and sternness in the others. 

The final carving is incomplete, only because a blackened char mark has burnt the wood to an unusable state. 

Ah.

He remembers why he didn’t take this to NRC. He remembers why he had it shoved in the back of the closet like something rotten, something meant to be concealed. He feels his mood darken as he turns the box over again. Each nick, each mark, tells a tale of something that stirs a burning shame in his gut. His hands tighten enough that he hears the wood creaking under his strength before they relax once more. 

Then, he pauses. Silver won’t be back until far later in the day. He has nothing to do but wash a mug that now sits fermenting in his sink. Beyond this, he’ll simply be wandering from room to room in his cottage like a ghost, perhaps cutting some firewood, perhaps seeing if the bloody quails that have been tormenting his vegetable gardens are back. 

Lilia moves until the back of his knees hit his bed and he sits down, cradling the box more gently now. A sudden urge—a bit of masochistic curiosity—tugs at his heart as his lips curl into a sneer. His thumb brushes against the carving of the figure crouching in the tree. 

Well, if he needs a good way to kill an hour or so. 

“All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far cry cradle.” 

_________________________________________________________

The memory begins as it always did any time that he did this. He’s just over 300 years old, his hair long and his body perched on the branches of a tree. He forgot that if he’s personally in the memory, his magic has a habit of tossing him headfirst directly into his body again. The scent of pine overwhelms him as he looks across a Briar Valley that once was just as full of life as he. Green, as far as the eye can see, and the songs of birds that have since gone extinct filling the warm air. 

He shifts on the branch and closes his eyes for a moment as he drinks it all in. Things long since gone, things he wishes he could experience just one more time in his current life. He almost loses himself in the memory—a dangerous risk—before he hears the faint sound of scraping from beneath where he’s perched.

Lilia’s eyes snap open and his gaze travels down to see a figure with a cloak sitting against the pine tree, their hood pulled up as their hands expertly carve a piece of wood with their blade. He can’t quite tell what it is they’re making—and truthfully, he’s long since forgotten. 

But the sound of their voice as they hum an old folk song he hasn’t heard since the war times makes him tense all the same. 

You.

Fuck.

The uncomfortableness of the situation, the realization that perhaps doing this was a mistake on his part, makes him shift back on the branch. This is enough to make a few twigs snap and force your attention to jerk upwards to where he lay. His red gaze locks onto yours as every sound in the forest falls silent and all he knows is the confusion in your eyes. 

“How long have you been up there?” You blurt out, your voice sounding exactly how he hears it in his dreams for the past four hundred years. A strangled sound leaves his throat, and with all of the energy he can muster, Lilia jerks himself free of the memory. 

_________________________________________________________

He stutters for air as his eyes open once more and he grips the box tight. The carving of his body on the branch overlooking yours at the base is now just a mockery for things he foolishly lost. The only way he can know you now is through the use of magic, and even that cannot return you entirely. 

He shouldn’t be doing this. A glance at the clock on the wall tells him he was in the memory for fifteen minutes, despite it feeling only like mere seconds. 

He shouldn’t be doing this. He turns the box over in his hand to look at the next carving. The two figures in a home, with a few flowers hanging to dry from a window. He notes with a bitter amusement that they’re all sunflowers.

The box should go back on the top shelf. He should lock it away again and forget it, leave it for Silver to find only once his father is dead and rotting under the earth. Perhaps the boy can finish what the humans started—burning it to nothing but cinders. 

He shouldn’t be doing this to himself, and yet… 

“All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far cry cradle.” 

_________________________________________________________

Lilia finds himself standing in a small cottage eerily reminiscent of his own. He knows a few months have passed since the first encounter by the way there’s snow falling heavily from the skies outside. Briar Valley’s winters are vicious—as untamed as the land itself once had been before metal teeth had torn it apart and left the fae to clean its viscera. His gaze travels to the window nearby to look out at the landscape before it’s drawn upwards to the flowers hanging down from the sill. 

Sunflowers, which look as fresh as the day they were likely picked, paint a cheery picture against the bleak backdrop beyond. 

“I am afraid it isn’t quite perfect, but it should do the trick to warm you up.” Your voice's soft cadence causes his shoulders to tense as he doesn’t turn around to face you. He can hear you humming, the sound of a bowl being set on a nearby table, and the aroma of something so intoxicating it makes his stomach twist in phantom hunger. “Why were you rushing through this blizzard to begin with?”

Lilia blinks as silence falls. You’re waiting for his response. This likely won’t play out unless he gives it.

“Her majesty bid me to deliver a missive to Princess Meleanor.” He murmurs, eyes still fixated on the sunflower. They almost look real to him despite the knowledge that this is nothing but an illusion. He hears you hum in disapproval. You often did that—hummed a lot, laughed a lot.

“Terrible weather to be doing so, but I suppose if it’s urgent, you can’t sit on it. At least have something to eat before you go braving Briar Nation once more.” 

His head turns slightly so that he can catch a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision. Your back is to him as you scoop more food into a second bowl. You’re not unique—just another fae in a nation of many—but you stand out to him. Four hundred years later, he still struggles to rationalize why. 

“You must like sunflowers a lot.” He comments abruptly. He didn’t say this in the memory, and he can tell by the way it seems to stutter around him. You still turn and look at him in confusion, however. “You only have sunflowers hanging on your window.”

“Oh!” You seem surprised, and then delighted as a smile graces your face. He wishes he had never seen that again. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

He wants to say something, perhaps ‘I know’, but the memory melts away before the words can leave his tongue.

_________________________________________________________

Lilia tastes copper when his eyes snap to the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes have gone by now—another fifteen in the previous memory. His hands shake slightly as he turns the box over like a man under a compulsion. The carving of two figures by the water seems to be taunting him as his thumb traces across your body. 

He doesn’t even bother speaking the phrase clearly this time. It comes as a mumble, and suddenly he’s falling into darkness again. 

_________________________________________________________

Tension is palpable when Lilia opens his eyes. Although it’s spring, the warmth seems nonexistent in the air as deafening silence fills where he stands. You’re by his side, your arms crossed tight over your chest as you stare at the pond beyond. By your feet, a patch of sunflowers smiles up at the bright skies above.

“How much longer do you think it will last before they wipe it clean?” You ask, your voice containing barely concealed rage as your nails dig into your sleeves. His jaw clenches as he shrugs one shoulder.

“A week. A month. A year. It could be any amount of time. They have new machines that they’ve been using—new means to rip open our nation to reach its heart.” He scoffs and turns sharply. “Fucking humans. Why did they need to come here to begin with? We were fine before they came crawling onto our shores, with their bitching, and moaning, and noxious fucking machines!”

“Lilia.” Your voice is calmer as he feels your hand touch his arm. His fury simmers slightly under this action. “At least we’re gaining some ground against them, right? And they haven’t reached all of Briar Nation yet. I can still provide game and herbs to the neighbouring villages—there’s an abundance surrounding my cottage.” 

Lilia wants to say that’s because all of the animals are being driven deeper into the woods, but he holds his tongue as he meets your steadfast gaze. In the period of time since he’s come to know you, he’s also realized that your stubbornness will have you refuting every claim with an optimistic one of your own. Already you had staunchly refused to leave your cottage despite the looming threat drawing ever so nearby.

“I need to go soon.” He finally sighs as he tears his gaze away from you to the pond again. He hasn’t seen this pond since the war era simply because he knows it was drained for the Silver Owls' use. He hears your own sigh slip out as you remove your hand. The skin that you touched aches in its absence. 

He steals a glance at you and tries to preserve your side-profile in his mind. If he could, he would carve it onto every surface he possessed, marking every line and bump that comprised the masterpiece that is you to his liking. He has already devoted himself by this point to mapping these curves with his fingers under the shadow of Briar Nations endless nights. He has memorized every sound you make, as sweet as any song can be, and which places on your body elicit such music. You had both entered this dance as a means to release stress—but now, four hundred years later, he knows it meant so much more. 

He wants to sweep you in his arms. He wants to pull you to safety, to silence your protests with hushed whispers and utterances of his devotion. He wants to pour his heart into your hands until he’s empty and belonging entirely to you. He is a man who, once he devotes himself to something, gives endlessly until he remains a ghost of who he once was.

He loves you in this moment, where the sun dapples your skin, and he can pretend he’s still in the Briar Nation he knew. So, he breaks conduct again. 

“You should leave.” The memory wavers at his words. In the past, he had simply turned at this point to begin returning to your cottage so that he could ready his travel pack. “You should go to the next village over. Go somewhere safe.”

The memory wavers again, fraying along the edges, and yet still Lilia finds himself persevering. “Please. I don’t want to see what’s going to happen next.” 

You turn to look at him as his vision begins to darken. Your brow furrows, confusion etching your face as the last words you speak feel like a nail in his own coffin. 

“Lilia, this is my home.”  

_________________________________________________________

He doesn’t immediately speak as he comes back again. The clock shows forty-five minutes have passed now, and the lighting in the bedroom he sits in has altered to reflect this. A numbness has crept into his body and settled just below his skin. It fluctuates and writhes like an insect and causes him to shiver as he rotates the box once more.

The last carving is incomplete. The black marks that mar its surface guarantee this. Faintly, he can smell smoke on both the box and his hands as he traces his thumb across this, as well.

It comes back filthy. 

Lilia’s expression schools itself to a blank look as the silence of the empty cottage perpetuates. Only his breathing breaks the still air, stuttering slightly as his lips part. 

“... far cry cradle.” 

_________________________________________________________

Lilia can smell it before he sees it. Wood, smouldering in the unforgiving winter sun, accompanied by something more pungent and feral. He’s already running by the time he snaps into the memory, his feet dragging through heavy snow as he fights against the elements to reach the treeline. He can see dark smoke pluming upwards.

It’s always too late by the time he arrives. 

His steps slow, his feet drawing to a stop as cold snow soaks through his pants. Before him lays a painting of carnage, crafted by human hands, and displayed for the eyes of any fae passing by. Footsteps trample in the aged snow that surrounds the smouldering husk of the structure. Your words regarding your cottage being in a hot spot for game and herbs ring as a mockery now in his ears as he slowly, slowly, inches closer. 

“Hello?” His voice cracks as the words leave him. The forest echoes them back—hello? Hello? Hello?

Stone dust scatters across the white earth as his hand comes to touch the frame you had been so proud of when you had first shown it off. Burnt, with embers still smouldering in the wood. He feels afraid to step further, but he knows that if he doesn’t then he’ll never get the satisfaction of knowing whether you may have survived it or not. 

Lilia passes through the door frame. He looks up to what remains of your roof, to the space where sunflowers once hung, and then just beyond the large wooden table you had carved for yourself as well. A small box sits perfectly on its blackened surface, like it had been placed on display intentionally for his discovery. 

The memory begins to blur at this point. Things that should be there soon bleed into black outlines, dripping down onto the floor with a rhythmic thump. He can see static in what looks like the shape of an arm peeking out from behind the table leg as his stomach twists, and rage begins to flood through his veins in place of blood. A stuttering breath leaves him as the static arm remains still.

He is General Lilia Vanrouge. He is a soldier. He is meant to protect his people, and yet, and yet—

_________________________________________________________

Lilia snaps out of this memory by throwing the box to the floor. It clatters at his outburst before he kicks it viciously into the closet, his breath leaving him in ragged gasps as he does. His mind is a blur as his one hand grips the sheets beneath him and the other grabs his collar, trying to ground him in the moment before the whole world spins out of proportion. 

He is not General Lilia Vanrouge. He is not a soldier. He is not walking into the home of the person he thought he loved, forced to bury what was left of them in a pauper's grave—just another loss in the wartime. 

He is a man, sitting in his cottage, with a son who will be home by evening and a school he needs to pack for. 

“Fuck,” he groans, pressing his face into his hands as he shakes himself free of the thoughts. “Fuck... fuck!”

A brief glance at the clock shows an hour has passed by now. His chest feels heavy, and his mind full of cotton as he dresses in a mechanical manner before going about his chores for the day.

By the time Silver returns, he’s fought off the quails, weeded the garden, cut firewood, and cleared the gutters. What he hasn’t done is clean the mug that’s been sitting in the sink since the morning—a task that Silver happily takes on after Lilia looks close to losing it.

If his son notices anything else off about his father, he says nothing about it, but Lilia does note the way Silver seems a bit more talkative than usual this evening. Lilia’s mind continues to replay the memories he experienced in a macabre theatrical viewing as he tries hard to listen to what Silver is saying. Eventually, they both fall silent as Silver washes the mug, along with the dishes from dinner in addition. The sun is beginning to set when he pauses to peer out the window with a curious expression.

“Did you see the sunflower in the garden?” Silver asks, his voice soft as he finishes drying off the mug. Lilia raises an eyebrow as he looks up again.

“What about it?” 

“It opened up.” Silver looks surprised, and then delighted as a smile graces his face. Lilia’s eyes widen as he notes the similarities between the childish joy on his son's face, and that which he once saw on your own.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

[alexfromjersey]

ℕ𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕪 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝 - jenna ortega

Stripper!Jenna x Black!G!PReader

summary: to celebrate you being recently released from prison, your siblings take you to a strip club.

warnings: mature language

a/n: blame beyonce for this...might turn this into a series if yall fuck with it enough 👀

“You want to take me where?” You questioned your siblings. One minute, you were focused on doing your job for your first day. The next minute, your siblings were calling you and harassing you about letting them take you out somewhere to celebrate.

Celebrate what you might ask.

You were locked up on drug charges for the last 7 years and you were recently released on parole for good behavior. You were released four months ago and for four months straight, your two brothers and sister kept hounding you to let them throw a party or something. Each time you said no because truthfully, there wasn’t anything to celebrate in your opinion. However, they strongly disagreed.

“To a strip club. One of my homies recommended it to me, it’ll be fun” Your older brother Akeem stated.

“I don’t got no money for no strip club. I just started this job today” You responded and sorted the packages in the truck.

“Don’t worry about that. We got you covered, all you have to do is say yes you’re going” Your younger brother Jeremiah said.

“Nah I’m good, y’all go have fun though” You declined.

You hear your siblings moan and groan out of frustration due to you declining to celebrate again. You just ignored it like usual.

“You irk the shit out of me. You’ve been out for four months and haven’t done a single fun thing yet. I know you’re trying to adjust to the outside world again but a part of adjusting is to have fun. So, come out and let us celebrate being able to hold you again, talk to you face to face and not behind some glass, and be able to experience life again” Your sister Eve ranted.

Even though, you felt the way you felt about being celebrated. Eve was right. Being behind bars for seven years did a number on your mental health, not being able to freely see your loved ones was rough.

You sighed, “If I say yes, will you leave me alone after this?”

“No promises” Akeem smiled.

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Fine whatever. What time should I be ready?”

Eve, Akeem, and Jeremiah all shouted yes and told you to be ready by 9. You nodded hung up the phone and got back to work.

“What the fuck am I going to wear?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You finished your first day at work by 5 and with praise from your supervisor. You worked at FedEx, sorting packages and loading up trucks for deliveries. You were surprised they even hired you since your record. You were rejected from numerous jobs because of it and you were about to give up when they called you.

“Nana I’m home” You called out to your grandmother Sheryl as you entered the house. You took your shoes off by the door and hung your jacket on the hook.

“Hey sweetie, how was your first day?” Sheryl asked.

“It was alright, easy work, easy day” You shrugged and sat on the couch.

“Hmm, that’s good. Your dinner is in the microwave. I got to leave in a minute, I’m going to bingo” Sheryl said.

“Cool” You replied and watched Family Feud on the TV.

“Got any plans tonight?” Sheryl asked.

“I was planning on just taking a shower, eating, and going to bed. But your other grandchildren are dragging me out tonight against my will” You rolled your eyes.

“Oh lord, now don’t you go out and get yourself in trouble fooling with your brothers and sister. You need to stay focused, you hear me” Sheryl demanded.

“Yes ma’am” You replied.

“Alright now,” Sheryl said and turned her attention toward the TV.

You sat there until the Family Feud episode ended and then went to the kitchen. You opened the microwave and grabbed your plate.

“Yes!” You quietly cheered when you saw she made baked chicken, mac and cheese, cornbread, and string beans. You were definitely going to get the itis after eating this. You heat it up and basically inhale the food and sweet ice tea.

Not long after, Sheryl left to go to bingo as you were in the shower. You got dressed in some shorts and a tank top. You went back on the couch and laid across which was technically your bed. The other spare room your grandmother had was already preoccupied by your Uncle who was a truck driver. He was on the road but due to be back in a couple of days.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up to the sound of your phone constantly ringing and dinging from calls and texts. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and grabbed it from the coffee table.

AK:

come outside

You groan and take a minute to collect yourself before getting up and getting dressed. You put on some loose fit jeans, a white undershirt, a tan long sleeve shirt, and your Timberlands. You make sure your hair is straight and looking good. You also may have stolen some of your uncle’s cologne.

You exit the house, making sure it’s locked up.

“Damn took you forever bitch” Eve commented without looking up from her phone.

“Shut up cornflakes” You replied and smacked her phone out of her hand. Eve sucked her teeth and mumbled an insult under her breath.

“Come on let’s go I’m ready to get a lap dance” Jeremiah bounced excitedly in the passenger seat.

You roll your eyes at your excited brother and got in the backseat next to Eve. Once you were inside the car, you felt a hard smack to the back of your head.

“That was for smacking my phone out my hand bitch” She grumbled.

You muttered an ‘ow’ and rubbed the spot that hurt. Soon after Akeem starts the journey to the strip club. The two boys in the front were engrossed in a conversation about attempting to take a girl home for the night. While Eve hasn’t taken her eyes off her phone since you left the house. You wanted to question it but also didn’t want to pry into her business.

Instead, you looked out the window. You took in the passing scenery. You savored it actually. You didn’t know how much you’ll miss seeing the night life in your city until you got locked up. People watching and observing how other people how fun at night was a great pass time for you.

You didn’t realize how deep into your thoughts you were until you noticed the car stopped outside a building. Your siblings got out and you followed behind them. You make your way to the back of line, thinking that’s what supposed to do. But you noticed your siblings skipped to the front by the bouncers.

“Yo what you doing? Get up here” Jeremiah ushered you.

You gave a sheepish smile to everyone in the line as you passed them. Jeremiah grabbed your shoulders and lead you in strip club.

“How we get to skip all those people?” You asked.

“Connections baby” Jeremiah smirked before digging into his pocket. He then pulled out a band (1,000 if you didn’t know). The younger boy then placed it into your hand.

“What the fuck you giving me this for?” You questioned confused.

“Uh to disperse among all the talented and beautiful sexy ladies in this building. Or you can wipe your ass with it I don’t know and I don’t care” Jeremiah shrugged and left your side before you can even reject it.

You stood there for a minute looking stupid before you pocketed the money. Honestly, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. It smelt like strong ass marijuana and cheap fruity cologne. The bass from the music that was currently playing was vibrating your whole body. Quickly, you found a seat at the front of the stage.

You looked around and saw Jeremiah getting a lap dance in a private room. Akeem was at the bar waiting on his drink. Eve was seen at a booth with a bunch of girls laughing hard.

They beg you to take you out and then leave you as soon they can. You internally roll your eyes at the thought.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and saw a woman with nothing but a bikini top and a thong next to you.

“Follow me” She smiled and grabbed your hand.

You were confused but did as the lady told. She walked you up some stairs and towards a folding chair. You now realize that you’re on stage.

“Wait I-I don’t-”

“Enjoy the show” The woman cut you off. She gave you a wink before walking off the stage.

Suddenly, the lights in the room changed to a dark sultry red and the music cut off. Everyone’s eyes was now turned to the stage including your siblings.

“Alright, everyone for the first time in almost a year please clap your hands, hide your boners, and welcome back to the building Naughty.” The DJ introduced.

It was silent for a moment before you heard the sound of heels clicking on the floor behind you. You turned your head a little behind you and saw a short woman dressed in all red. From the bright red lacy bra corset top to her red 6-inch stilettos. You turned back around when she stood behind you as the beat of a familiar song played. It was Naughty Girl by Beyoncé, how ironic.

You felt her hands glide down the front of your body. Her scent was intoxicating, it was a mix of something fruity and sexy. You were incited by it.

I love to love you, baby (I love to love you, baby), I love to love you, baby (I love to love you, baby)

She removed her hands but not before grabbing your jaw and moving it to your left to face her. Her dark brown eyes never leaving your light brown ones. She dipped down in front of you while swaying her hips sexily to the beat of the song.

I'm feelin' sexy, I wanna hear you say my name, boy

You watched as she poked her ass out to everyone in the crowd. You heard the cheers and saw the money being thrown onto the stage out your peripheral vision. But you wasn’t focused on that, you were focused on the woman dancing in front of you.

Feelin' kind of n-a-s-t-y, Why I just might take you home with me

She got behind you and grabbed the pole behind you and started climbing up it. You looked up in amazement at her strength.

Start feeling so crazy, babe, lately, I feel the funk coming over me, I don't know what's gotten into me, the rhythm's got me feelin' so crazy, babe

She started spinning on the pole using one hand. You were a little scared that she would fall but you had to remember that she’s a professional and she knew what she was doing. Plus, if she were too fall you’ll catch her without hesitation.

She turned herself upside down and prepared herself to slide down. Your eyes once locked on to each other again and she slid down just as the chorus began.

Tonight, I'll be your naughty girl (Uh), I'm calling all my girls

She stopped just a breath away from your face. She expected you to flinch like everyone person she brought up on stage but to her surprise, you didn’t move an inch.

We gon' turn this party out, I know you want my body

She climbed back up the pole and started doing her routine. You felt your hands getting clammy so you wiped it on your pants leg. You then remembered the money in your pocket and pulled it out. You threw a few hundreds in the air making it rain down onto the floor.

After the chorus, she slid down again and got off the pole. Your eyes now took the time to wander over her body. You bit your lip and a finger lifts your chin to her face again. She straddle your legs and you kept your hands to your side.

You saw the rule about no touching the dancers. It was painted in big bold letter, you couldn’t miss it.

You're so sexy, tonight, I am all yours, boy

She leaned in towards your face and you thought your lips were going to brush against each other for a second. But she pulled back a millisecond before they could.

The way your body moves across the floor, feelin' kind of n-a-s-t-y, why I just might take you home with me

She smirked when she felt you twitch at not being able to touch her. Her arms rested on your shoulders and you felt her start to roll on your crotch. Your eyes widen and you instinctively go to grab her hips but you remembered the rule and kept your hands to the side. You did make clench fists to stop yourself from growing happy in that region.

Meanwhile, the woman on top of you applauded your self control. Most people tap out way before this part.

Tonight, I'll be your naughty girl (Uh), (Oh) I'm calling all my girls (Oh), We gon' turn this party out, I know you want my body

She ticked her hips to the beat of the song which made you let out a low groan.

Tonight, I'll be your naughty girl, I'm calling all my girls (Girls), I see you look me up and down, and I came to party

She turned around and started grinding into you again. Your bottom lip was trapped between your teeth as you focused on the woman and trying not to get a boner.

I love to love you, baby (I love to love you, baby), I love to love you, baby (I love to love you, baby)

She did a slow dive towards the fall making sure her ass was still your main view. While she winked at one of the men in the audience who threw basically all of his money towards her. She turned around on to her back and did a body roll on the ground.

I love to love you, baby (I love to love you, baby), I love to love you, baby (I love to love you, baby)

She pulled herself to a squat in front of you and pushed your legs apart. She wrapped her arms under your thighs and flipped herself up onto your shoulders. She supported herself impressively on your shoulders. Her hand gripped your curly hair without causing any pain to you.

Tonight, I'll be your naughty girl (Uh), I'm calling all my girls, we gon' turn this party out, I know you want my body

She then grabbed onto the pole again and climbed up it. She spin on it without any hands this time just core and leg strength. For the finale, she slid down the pole and into a split.

At the end of the song, the whole place was cheering loudly. You were blinded by the sight of falling money everywhere.

“Give it up for Naughty!” The DJ yelled and made the place cheer even louder than before.

You watched as the woman stood up and waved to everyone. Once she locked eyes with you again, she smirked and gave you a wink. She then walked off the stage.

After you were escorted off the stage and made your way to your siblings. They all stared at your flushed face with a grin.

“Money well spent” Akeem commented.

“You paid for that?” You questioned.

“Sure did. We knew if you agreed all you were going to do is either sit at the bar or watch the dancers and occasionally throw money. We had to let you experience a little something” Eve replied.

“And experience something you did” Jeremiah laughed.

You chuckled because you couldn’t even be upset at them. You had a amazing time and it was one for the books.

For the rest of the night, you hung out with your siblings, drinking and chatting. But your mind was still stuck on the sexy small woman named Naughty.

a/n: I hope I wrote this okay. I’ve been feeling a little anxious about my writing lately. let me know if you guys want this into a series cause if you do I got plans for it 👀.

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

watched the s1 finale with my sister two days ago (but it was like semi-late when we finished watching and then some shit happened the next day so i didn't post her thoughts until now):

"vander would go on my hear me out cake"

"she has the fighting equivalent to blue balls. she's all revved up and no one to punch" (about vi when jayce left her with the gauntlets)

"i think you're just talking out of your ass" (about silco after renni's son died)

"i would've had your son killed for this" "i would've punch him in the face cause who the fuck does he think he is"

"you could go back to noxus if you like to talk about it so much" (about ambessa)

"with respect, i don't give a shit what any of you think of me anymore" "period, kind of attractive of him to say, just that though. i don't forgive how you've neglected viktor"

"this is a dinner party from hell"

"i was hating him but now i feel bad for him" (about heimerdinger)

i jokingly called the show a masterpiece sometime after we finished watching and she went "i wouldn't say that" so do with that what you will

"kay but the thing is, nothing he said was wrong" (about finn after he died)

"are they flirting?" (about jayvik when they were on the ledge)

"i feel bad for her but i'm not sad that he's dead" (about jinx and silco)

the credits rolled and she went "i'm sorry what" which is so me-watching-arcane-for-the-first-time-coded of her to do

"there's too much moral greyness for me"

okay and then i had her list her top 5 and bottom 5 characters (she struggled to find three more top characters after the first two, probably tells you a lot about her viewing experience)

top 5:

vander: "he has clear morals and he's just trying to protect his people and he's a good father figure"

ekko: "he's the little guy, when we first meet him that is, he's like a tech wiz. and for him to build this place, i'm proud of him"

caitlyn: "she's an actual good enforcer like she's actually trying to listen to the people"

viktor: "he just wants to help people and he's looked over a lot and downgraded so he tries not to do the same"

claggor: "he's just a homie, he's a ride or die, literally, i don't know, he just has a special place in my heart" (that "literally" was UNNECESSARY)

bottom 5:

silco: "he is the archenemy. he is persona non grata. he. killed. vander. so- he's also a crime lord who doesn't care about his own people. silco doesn't have a code. silco has no scruples"

sevika: "sevika is just annoying. why she tryna kill vi all the time? i mean vi's tryna kill her but-"

marcus: "i hate a crooked cop"

jinx: "the crimes. like the killing of those six cops, and the almost killing of caitlyn, and the kidnapping of cailtyn. like she's obviously a pawn of silco's so that's why she's lower than silco but she did some crime independently"

ambessa: "ambessa's a bad mother"

special mention: deckard: "he is bad, he was really creepy and a predator" and any of silco's goons (reason is obvious i guess)

and these are her thoughts on some of the characters who aren't in either of those lists (no ranked order, just the order she spoke about them):

jayce: "i don't care about [him], you're a bad friend and i hate when people are bad friends"

mel: "you're kind of two-faced but i do feel bad about the situation with your mom"

vi: "i'm still upset with what you said to powder but i like that you're trying to make up for it but unfortunately words stick"

cassandra: "booo *thumbs down*" (that's it i guess i don't-)

mylo: "booo *thumbs down* i feel bad that he died but he was really mean to powder"

heimerdinger: "i judged him quickly cause he was a bit annoying but by the end, he had a warm place in my heart and i always go back to him in the orchestra" (the scene with ray chen's insert)

sky: "i feel so bad for her. it's also kind of a commentary. even without meaning to, the man destroyed her to save himself"

tobias: "he cares about his daughter and what she wants and realizes there's a time and place for chastising"

episodes 1 and 2

episode 3

episode 4

episodes 5 and 6

episodes 7 and 8

[2knightt]

hiii I was wondering if u could do smth for the outsiders? Like Darry has a s/o who is the mother figure for the gang and often Johnny n pony call her ma / mom? I js thought it was sooo cute but if not it’s also okay dearrr

darry curtis x motherly!reader

!warnings!

1.fem!reader

2.swearing

3.probably ooc LMFAO

darry would literally love you. oh my god.

you’re caring???? you help take care of the gang??? you help ponyboy with homework???

you might as well rip his heart out of his chest cause it’s already yours!

the gang loves you, probably even more than darry does!

but to darry, that’s impossible.

you’re heaven sent to him. he truly believes you’re a miracle!

when he’s stressed out, you’re right there to help him destress!

giving him a massage, giving him tea, shit maybe even all of the above if you feel like it.

“jeez dare, stop overworking yourself so much! you’re gonna die some day because of it!”

“no i won’t, been doin’ it for so long i’ve gotten used to it.”

“thats even worse!!”

when you cook for him he will GOBBLE it up.

homie can taste the love you put in and he thinks it makes the food taste 100x better.

but even you have stressful days! but, expect darry to treat you like a princess!

he will not let you leave his bed, he is getting everything you want.

water? done. a book? already in your hand. a fucking car? he’s wasting all his money for you!

he will follow you to hell if you ask him nicely.

he just loves you so much.

when he somehow get’s hurt in rumbles he’s so glad you’re there to patch him up.

but he isn’t glad that he gets an earful from you.

“you know i hate these things. why do you out of all people go darry? you’re better than this.”

he just grumbles because he doesn’t even want to answer anything with a black eye that’s slowly forming on his right eye.

the gang is so thankful that you can patch them up too. they sometimes fight over who you’re gonna help next.

“i’m goin’ after darry!”

“SODA! YOU’VE GONE SECOND FOR LIKE 3 TIMES IN A ROW. IT’S MY TURN!!”

“PISS OFF TWO-BIT.”

“actually it’s my turn.”

“shut the hell up steve.”

“AYE!”

ponyboy’s just happy he has a mother figure in his life again. his mom was definitely his favourite parent, so now that he has someone to replicate that, he’s on the moon.

he only calls you mom or ma in private, he’s too embarrassed to say it with others in the room.

BUT, he definitely lets the mom calling slip accidentally infront of the gang.

“mom, do you need help with the dishes?”

“MOM?!”

“WHAT?!?”

pony just looks down in embarrassment until you chuckle and agree to him helping you. then he’s all smiles and sunshine!

darry is so happy to see this you don’t get it.

darry asks for advice from you to get to know ponyboy better since he rambles on and on about whatever he’s most interested in at the time.

“so uh, about ponyboy…”

“oh! he really likes ‘gone with the wind’, i know you don’t have much time to read so, i can just tell you the important stuff!”

he just nods and stares at you as you talk about the characters, the main plot, and the small details ponyboy’s obsessed with.

he’s taking mental notes and thanking you heavily when you’re finished talking!

“thank you, y/n. really. i appreciate all you do for me.”

“awe! of course, babe. anything for you.”

he’s giggling and blushing at the last sentence

he’s so thankful that you’re there to talk some sense into the gang.

sometimes he sits on the sidelines and just watches.

“DALLAS WINSTON. WHAT ON GODS GREEN EARTH WERE YOU THINKING PULLING SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!”

“I’M SORRY! JESUS.”

dallas just throws his hands in the air in defeat, knowing that no matter how much he apologizes you’ll continue to scold him.

but he listens, he doesn’t do whatever he did for awhile.

darry just chuckles at the sight.

his mom used to scold dallas like that, so seeing you do the same brought back good memories for him.

being around you just reminds him of the ‘good old days’ so when he’s around you his mood immediately lifts.

like he could be yelling at ponyboy to raise his grades and you could walk in and darry would go “AND STUDY MO- oh hey babyyy!!☺️☺️”

everyone’s eternally grateful for you.

ESPECIALLY JOHNNY GOOD LORD.

he goes to you for literally everything.

something bad happened to him?? he’s at your front door! something good happened to him??? he’s right beside you telling you about it!

yeah, he calls you mom too.

he doesn’t mean to though! he just looks up to you so much, he’s always seen you has a mother figure but he never thought he’d actually call you mom!

“hey ma, does my hair look tuff!?”

“huh?”

he’s FROZEN in place. he’s so embarrassed, he’s literally overheating.

you just giggle to yourself and say his hair does infact, look extremely tuff.

he walks away smiling with a little hop when he walks.

the gang fights over your attention with darry.

they ain’t got a good life at home, but if you give them the motherly love they’ve been missing? they will kill someone for you.

darry loves and hates this.

he loves that you and the gang get along. he can’t be with someone the gang doesn’t like, but he hates that they like you so much they talk to you 24/7.

he sometimes just snatches you while you’re talking to someone in the curtis house.

like you could be talking to sodapop and he’ll come behind you and grab you by the waist and carry you into his room.

all that while soda chases him down, yelling nonsense.

“DARRY! I WAS TALKING TO HER.”

“that’s crazy…”

overall, darry would definitely look for a mother-like lover.

he needs it fr🙏

author notes;

1.EVERYONE SHUT UP THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST I CANT

2.when i read dear i lowkey giggled and kicked my feet

3.should i make a taglist??!!???? would literally anyone like to be tagged in my outsiders fics?!!!????

4.i really hope i did this justice LMFAO

5.btw if you’ve DMed me im not ignoring you, im working up the courage to talk to you. im a very nervous person😭😭

may 11th, 2023. 10:18PM.

[tricktster]

how long have you been getting burritoed... i love the thought of you guys being together for five years and you still fall for it every time

Slightly NSFW warning but the full backstory for the burritoing is honestly very sweet and i can take absolutely no credit for it being so.

so it has not been five years, it’s only been five months, but given that my tolerance for being in relationships can usually be measured in weeks, five months with me harboring every single desire to keep this going is saying something. but rest assured the burrito thing has always been a threat in this relationship. lemme explain.

see, i met my boyfriend the most romantic way a person can, in that i hopped on tinder one friday when I was bored and he was the most interesting person that night to ask me to grab a drink with him the following week. I agreed, with every expectation that this was going to be a one night stand situation. This was because I had already concluded I would probably sleep with him since he was hot and funny over tinder/text but also, more importantly, because I had decided to plunge back into the dating world after several years of being resolutely single by having what my roommate described as “a wanton winter,” which is a nicer way of saying that I was here to sleep around without any strings remotely attached. I had every intention of this being followed by a slutty spring, sexually-available summer, and perhaps even a fuckboi fall.

All this to say, I was not looking for an actual relationship when I agreed to “grab a drink” with the man who is now my boyfriend. In fact, even though he was categorically hunky all-round? I was by this point in my wanton winter not even optimistically hoping for a good time. I had recently re-discovered that hunky meant absolutely nothing, and was still haunted by memories of sleeping with an extremely attractive massage therapist who was not only terrible in bed but also read me a very bad poem that he’d written afterwards and started crying about the state of his life at one point and also his mom called like 11 times while he was over. Like, my expectations were subterranean.

Now given this background, i presumed that this guy would follow the established pattern set by every other guy i’d hooked up with during wanton winter; we’d go back to my place, fool around, he’d leave, and i’d get occasional “u up” texts from him for the next few weeks until one of us ghosted etc. so like it was a surprise - but certainly not an unpleasant one! - when he asked (a little nervously) post-hookup if he could stay the night. he didn’t want to impose, he explained, but he had a day shift the next morning and it was really late and his house was 24 minutes away and while he didn’t want to be presumptuous he’d thrown what he needed in a backpack just in case and also he wanted to cuddle and be big spoon.

well. this was a deviation. this possibly suggested more interest than just a one night stand.

ideologically i was opposed to the threat this posed to my no commitments wanton winter lifestyle but given that he was significantly cuter and funnier in person than he’d been online and also that he had just absolutely rocked my entire world for several hours(!!!) i was just like “yeah homie you are more than welcome to stay,” and decided against issuing my standard warning whenever anyone proposes sharing a bed with me that “I do not tolerate people attempting to cuddle me in my sleep well so don’t be hurt when you find me as far from you as physically possible tomorrow, and also you may be kicked in the process of me rolling away, and my toenails are inexplicably sharp so you may bleed.”

and then, you know, suddenly the alarm was going off, and he was extracting himself, unwounded, from the big spoon position that I had not felt the unconscious need to escape from all night, and I was just internally like “haha! i might be in trouble!”

that mighta done it on its own, honestly, the whole bit about him being the sole exception i have ever encountered to my instinctual need for space when i’m sleeping. but he was not done. he quietly got ready while i was mulling this development over in a state of half consciousness, and then? instead of slinking out into the barely-morning, that motherfucker very gently rearranged the bedclothes to actually cover me, gave me a kiss, said he’d text me when he got to work, and then the bastard tucked me in.

he then left me, the victim of the cutest goddamn nonsense that has ever happened after a tinder hookup, to process this unexpected turn of events.

I concluded that I was, in fact, in trouble.

so like… needless to say, that act of tucking me in was the death knell for my wanton winter, as well as my adversarial relationship with the concept of developing feelings. I am an extremely crotchety housecat that doesn’t like to be crowded who has unprecedentedly fallen incredibly hard for a wildly enthusiastic golden retriever, and our relationship is foundationally based upon this man’s desire to make me all snug and cozy before he leaves.

the burrito aspect was merely an afterthought. it’s all about the tuck-in babey.

[ghostsvacuumcleaner]

Hello! i was wondering if you could write me a req bc i saw your reqs r open (bc I ✨respectfully✨ suck booty at writing)

basically, reader made friends with Ghost while working together on deployment, and became friends, they hang out sometimes bc they live kinda close, blah blah blah. then, Ghost doesn't hear from reader in months (which isn't normal, bc they text like once a month, just to make sure one another is okay when they can). then, one day, in the middle of a meeting Ghost gets a call from an unfamiliar number and almost ignores it until he sees that the area code is the one reader lives in, so he decides to answer it. boom, guess what? the reader is in the hospital, sustained r/srs injuries, and is in need of emergency surgery, and the reader made Ghost the emergency contact (lets also say they traded dog tags bc fluff?)

homie gets all sad bc Reader might die and is in a mini coma, blah blah blah, realized he r in love w the reader, and uh

you can decide whether or not the reader dies and what happens next

i fr scream YIPEEE when i saw your req open, i adore your writing, like top tear, makes me cry but laugh and scream bc how are you so good?! srs, im so jelly of your writing! okay anyways, hope you have a lovely day, you dont have to do this is you dont want or if im jus a silly fucker and mis read and your reqs r closed or sum

Hellloooo! Thank you SO MUCH for the beautiful compliments and for this request <3 I loved it so much I started writing the day you sent it to me. But since it's very emotionally charged, it took me a little while to finish and I'm sorry bout that, and I rly hope you're still around and eager to read it!!! Well, there it is, my take on ur req, hope you like it.

Take me back (to the night we met) | Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

✦Word count: 2.1k ✦ Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley xf!reader ✦Summary: Simon gets a call from the hospital saying that you are hospitalized, in a coma and in great life risk. ✦ TW and general warnings: sensitive topics, lots of angst, fluff though, death implications, open ending, sad af read at ur own risks cuz i'm crying in my room rn;

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met

“Johnny and I make our entrances fast. I clear the way, he goes front, three of you get in by the back and we surround the site to get enough space for the hostages to come out. Any questions?” Ghost asks sternly, as is the usual of his tone especially coming down to work. He was being brutally professional at the moment - if there was rather a sign of an existing Simon, it was gone the moment he got inside the briefing room. Silence follows for the next seconds while the crew seems to be pondering over what he said, analyzing the map over the big round table sticking to the center of the room.

As it is expected, no questions. He nods with his head assuming by the silence that they’re all understood.

“Our orders are to neutralize any individual we find on the site whose face doesn’t match with our hostages, which means we do it fast before they get the chance to call for reinforcements. We don’t wanna make a mess out of this.” Price then continues his own talking, marking X’s over the tactic map and giving the next orders to every one of them. It is when Gaz opens his mouth to say something, that Simon’s phone rings for the third time in a row. He curses mentally - he muted his phone the first time; now, it was vibrating in his pocket. Awkwardly, the vibration itself is heard by everyone in the room and they turn their eyes on him almost instantly.

“Hell.” He curses out in a low voice before shaking his head. “My apologies, Captain.” His voice tries its best not to come out too annoyed, but he fails and it does; despite the timing being inconvenient, no one seems to be bothered. Johnny furrows his brows in concern, and looks over at Price, who seems to have the same, perhaps even more intense, look on his face.

Ghost mentions to pull out and turn off his phone once again, but Price is quick to intervene.

“Riley.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Third time in a row; seems like somethin’ serious, get out and pick up.” He states comprehensively.

Despite being slightly reluctant, Ghost agrees - it must be something serious. What, he couldn't come to imagine - but if for a moment in his life he had something close to a hunch, it was now, and it said he should take that call.

“Alright, one minute. Move on without me.” He nods and leaves the room, phone in hand and a worried sigh leaving his nostrils. When the door closes behind him and he walks a bit further down the hallway, he picks up.

“Yes?”

“Is this Lieutenant Simon Riley?” A feminine voice asks from the other side. Sounds in the background, beeps and small, muffled voices.

“Affirmative, who’s this?” He frowns.

“This is from the Special Forces Manchester Hospital, are you familiar with the name- hmm…” She seems to be taking a couple seconds to read, and continues saying your name. 

He freezes in place.

How long has it been since he last heard this name? How long has it been since you vanished like thin air, disappeared, stopped calling or answering? Busy. That’s what he thought. Busy with work, busy with anything. The two of you had always been two busy people, in a desperate need for time.

For a moment, in those torturous seconds of silence, Simon found himself praying to a God he wasn't even sure he believed in, that this nurse wouldn't tell him you’re dead.

“Yes.” It’s all he manages to say, with his eyes running down to the ground in a dead stare. Dead eyes. He gulps, after the despair in his chest makes him speak once again, “Why?”

“Well- sir, you’re her emergency number, we’re calling because we couldn’t manage any family members… She’s in a coma. She was severely injured in combat, and [...]”

His heart stops, like it never did before. He doesn't react, his eyes look around as if he's searching for something - as if searching for his own reaction hidden somewhere within that empty hallway. The weight of your dog tag around his neck seems to be suffocating him now. 

To his silence, the woman continues.

“[...] it’s… currently sort of impossible to predict her state within the next few days, she’s fighting but struggling lots; can you come over?” 

“Yes.” He sharply replies, immediately. His eyes are still on the ground as he closes his eyes, and nods. “I’ll be on my way, yes.” 

“Good.” She replies, and he turns off.

For a moment, he stops to breathe; Ghost wipes his hand over his mouth in a somewhat guilty expression, he should have reached for you. He should have reached you the instant he missed you, your calls. 

“Hell…” He shuts his eyes for a moment, his heart stings like he’s poisoned, it hurts - some sort of pain he swears to god, he probably never felt before. Not when he lost his training dog, nor when he lost friends before - maybe because there were always a lingering possibility between the two of you. It was nothing but a friendship, never had been - but every word, every phrase was full of underlines of sentiment, an immense desire to reveal his interior and spit out the fears he refused to speak about to anyone else.

It's the possibility that kills him now. Even after all this time, not for a second did you cease to exist in his troubled and saddened mind. Suppressed by all the worries and feelings he thought were more important than you.

Not for a moment did he stop thinking about that pleasant end to his career, the retirement he knew he deserved, a house at least isolated from the rest of the world with trees and streams, the snow falling when winter comes and the sun scorching the land. land when summer finally arrived. You, on the front porch. 

You.  You.

When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet Oh, take me back to the night we met

You were leaning back on the sofa, your legs stretched out by the small table that marked the space between you and the balcony railing of his apartment.

The rain fell calmly, some thunder, but few drops. The sound of them falling against the roofs of the houses below the level where you were was echoing in your ears, and he seemed busy drawing patterns among the heavy clouds that covered the sky. 

He gave up trying to find any stars in that rainy sky and found comfort in finding your eyes instead. They were already watching him, almost expecting him to say something, even though the silence between two of you usually speaks volumes more than words itself; you’ve never been good with them, much less him. 

Simon looked down at your dog tag, lying brightly on your bust exposed by the tank top you wore. 

“What do you want to do after retiring?” He asked, his voice calm, his eyes almost closed. He took your necklace between his fingers calmly, and watched your shiny name exposed on the icy metal.

“Gotta be honest with you, can’t see myself retiring.” You replied, with your usual brutal honesty - something he particularly always liked so much about you. “What about you?” 

You don’t mind him, you allow.

“Don’t know.” He was, too, brutally honest. “Seek fuckin’ forgiveness for my sins before I die and end up in hell, I suppose.” 

You laughed.

“Oh, fuck. Gonna die trying to find that, mate.” You admit, raising your eyebrows in another big sip of your beer. “We’re all going to hell… At least we’ll all party there together.” You sounded fun, and your eyes turned into little lines with the genuine smile you let out when noticed that he too laughed at your joke. 

“We’re partyin’? Tell me Johnny isn’t going…”

“He’s my first guest.” You laugh harder.

“Thought that’d be me.” 

“You hate parties.” You raised your eyebrows.

“I don’t hate you.”

You silently smiled and looked away. 

“Fair enough.”

When it came to the two of you, there was nothing but connotation.

You could spend hours in that apartment alone with him - and you did. Did plenty of times, and yet, among subtle touches and heartfelt conversations, the end would be the same. Not in his bed, not in yours: by the door, with a rueful look and smile on your face. 

With a held back hug you never gave, a held back kiss you never allowed and an uncertain goodbye before departing on a mission that could take your or his life.

There was a phone call, once.

He called you late in the night. He was drunk. Too drunk. 

“I’m scared.” His voice was low, fluttering, like those cold days he’d be waiting for his dad’s arrival in his bed, under the covers, terrified and alone. “I’m scared. Can- can I see you? Can I come over, please?” 

As you hugged him on the couch in your own apartment now - that huge, strong, self-sufficient man collapsing in your lap like a baby in need of comfort, your heart was never right about anything like it was right about loving him. In that moment you knew it, you were fucking lost, taken, desperately in love.

You departed; you gave him your dog tag, he gave you his. A memory, an attempt. Do not forget me, you said. Don’t you dare forget me if I die, Simon Riley.

“I didn’t.” 

He looks at you with regret. The devices that help you breathe keep him from seeing you fully, whole - but still behind all those hospital beeps and sounds, you're still as beautiful as the first time he saw you.

He wants to go back to the past. Reverse everything he did, redo it from scratch; the first time he saw you, the first time he felt his heart ache listening to you talk about another man, all the times he repressed his feelings and swore not to love you.

“I want to be with you.” He mutters, his eyes emptily stare down your almost lifeless hand resting over his. “After I retire. I want to be with you.” He says again, closing his eyes, shutting them tight like he’s trying his very best to repress the tears he wants so bad to let fall. 

“I fuckin’ need you- I- how did this happen, how did you…” He gasps as the clock ticks, low, the sound of the hands ringing like doomsday inside his head. Every second that passed was one less with you. There are twenty minutes left for you to enter that operating room, and maybe you’ll never leave it again.

His eyes water and his legs give out, he kneels beside the bed, his suppressed voice sounding like a low, painful moan. The cry of a child who lost everything he had; of a confused teenager who would become a soldier, cold, dead inside, incapable of love - who loved you. Who loves you. “I’m scared. I’m scared- I love you.” He’d mutter, praying to all known gods to not take you. Take anything, anything from me; anything but her.

When the doctors came into the room and hurriedly moved your gurney to the ward in a desperate attempt to get your heart working again with the transplant, Simon sat in the waiting room with his face buried in his hands, his legs trembling. and the false hope that you would come back.

That you’ll be on that front porch, resting ever so happily, a bottle of beer in your hand and the dogs running around. He will have gotten rid of the mask and the habit of wearing it and you’ll be happy. You’ll be happy. You’ll be alive.

“God, please.” He mutters. “You’ve taken so much from me, now please, not this.”

He stands up as the doctor calls his name, with his heart on his hand and regret flashing his face off, he just wants another minute with you, another second with you, enough seconds so he can tell you he love you - he had, for most of his life and now, and he will, for the rest of his days with or without you.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met.

[destinyc1020]

https://variety.com/2024/film/news/florence-pugh-acting-break-1236148515/

A common trend amongst stars these days. Maybe we should hold back on the "unemployment" jokes and stop with the "booked and busy" mantra. Homies be burnt out and tired.

You know what? Good for her! 😊👏🏾

I definitely feel like actors should prioritize their physical, mental, and emotional health first and foremost.

If you're feeling burnt out, then there's nothing wrong with taking a break.

I never saw anything wrong with Tom or Zendaya taking a much-needed break last year.

And yea, the unemployed jokes are tired and old. 😒🙄

Most actors are technically "unemployed" until their next project films anyway. It's just the nature of the industry. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Tom and Z have multiple side gigs and streams of income anyway, so even if they're not filming anything, they're still making money. Not to mention, back-end pay from Spiderman MCU films. 😊

They're just fine.

Happy for Florence if that's what she needed. 😃

[sillyguy99]

* don't look now, but i lost my shoe.

(Undertale Sans x Reader)

Chapter One: * what's with these homies, dissin' my girl?

[Index | Next]

Notice:

(This story is nearly 5 years old, and though it doesn't show my best work, I decided to post it, just because I stopped it at chapter 18, when there were only 2 more chapters left to finish it. So... I'm gonna give it another shot – making minor edits to make the plot less dramatic and angsty, lol.)

(***Also, since Tumblr has a more limited format: italic texts are from you, the reader, and bold texts are from others.)

• • • • •

You've changed.

The best thing your boss did was to give you that warning.

You shouldn't keep working for the law if you're just gonna be a traitor.

How am I a traitor?

You work 9 to 5, sometimes 8 to 6, for the benefit of monsters.

Now, all of a sudden, our sex life goes down the drain.

I haven't slept with you since you got that promotion, and that was two whole months ago.

I'm supposed to be your husband, but you've left me in the dry.

I'm tired.

And I refuse to sleep with someone who won't support me in my new job.

Or should I remind you said I wasn't a real detective?

That my degree's 'worth shit', simply because of the field I'm working in these days?

               The rest is an ongoing, fruitless conversation you can't bother yourself with.

               Through reading those texts for what has to be the twentieth time today, you sigh, hiccup, and close your eyes tight, lifting your face slightly to avoid letting tears fall. 

               Barely two hours are left until he comes home to drop off your child, and the mere thought that you have to sleep with him five hours after that makes your stomach twist and churn. You don't want to imagine him naked: panting, heavy, and on top of you again, doing whatever he pleases with little regards to your own limits. Nausea takes over – violent, making you open your eyes and suppress a gag.

               You really, really don't want anything to do with him anymore.

               Yet, he insists you should remain married until your child reaches their eighteenth birthday.

               “At least wait until they're grown up,” he said. “Cuz what's six more years? Be honest with me.” Then, he chuckled. “As ugly as you frown when you see me, I doubt you hate me that much.”

               That had been a year ago.

               Would you really have to wait five more years until your freedom?

               The thought sends chills down your spine.

               While he was a good father, that adjective didn't really fit next to husband. 

               At the beginning of your marriage, yes – he was the best spouse you could ask for.

               Now?

               You'd rather eat drywall than have to spend a single second near him – without your child around, of course.

               With your newest agreement, it felt more as if your husband were a client, his payment being not making your life hell, and your service what he claimed was something a wife should be willing to give twenty-four seven.

               You shake your head and search for a distraction amongst the people surrounding the bar, aware you can only end up worse if you continue to dwell on the subject. The air presses down on you hot and heavy, a feeling that only increases the more time you stay seated without doing anything for your growing aches. Your sole companion is your mind when you realize you're too overcome with emotions to talk to someone without scaring them off. Chatter drowns out coherent thinking and sensory overload begins to show by how difficult breathing becomes. Seeking an escape route, you hold the bartender back with a raised hand and an 'excuse me'. Then, you ask him for some bottled water – the only kind he could touch willingly. Small embers flutter around the air as he turns around, leaving you alone with burning cheeks and a pounding headache. 

               Groaning, you pinch the bridge of your nose and blink through your blurry vision. Then, you adjust your glasses – despite knowing the excess shots have pretty much screwed you over already. The hour marked on your phone surfaces a sigh. How fast time seems to be going makes you notice you currently only have around an hour left before your husband arrives with your child. They would be staying with you while he went off to work, and the least you wanted was to look washed up for his arrival.

               "need somethin' else, pal?"

               You jolt at the new voice, deep and hearty.

               Reluctantly, you cast your gaze up to see a skeleton monster standing behind the counter, now glossy with polish. His face is tough to make out with the blurriness, yet you can tell he's looking at you. From the way he stands behind the counter and the stuffy look his suit gives off with its pristine and exaggerated formality, you figure he's a new employee. His newbie appearance doesn't erase the warm and welcoming aura most bartenders appear to carry by default, however. Instead, it makes his smile and words more genuine in his approach.

               It takes you a while to respond aside from shaking your head – mind hazy and disoriented. You thank him and sweep the water bottle off the counter, then turn the lid open, breathe in deep, and take a series of long, greedy gulps. Finally, you set it back down, more than half of it already gone.

               One more screw up, and you were out of your job at the law department for good.

               It doesn't help that you're currently hanging out at a place strictly and utterly forbidden by your boss: a hole-in-the-wall bar and grill establishment open to all, kept family-friendly during the day and becoming more daring during the night. It has been long since you ever drank alcohol of any sort, and it's beginning to show. You can hardly sit without tumbling pitifully to the side.

               “hey.”

               You're snapped back toward reality through the feeling of someone resting their arms over the counter, facing you and waiting for your return. 

               You frown and look up from the water bottle to see the same skeleton – his previous stuffy appearance appearing more natural now that he's taken off his tie and left two of the shirt's buttons unfastened.

               "i’m no expert on humans, but you look like you could use someone to talk to."

               You feel hazy again.

               And whether due to the drinks or the heat, you're not too certain of.

               But – right now – you're positive about one thing. 

               “U- Um…”

               As you wipe a tear off your cheek and burst out half a sob and half a laugh, you realize you really could use someone to talk to.

               “Thank you.”

[heavyhitterheaux]

You Better Call Becky With the Good Hair

AN: Loveee this one 🤭😏

Synopsis: You have a decision to make when you find out your longtime husband has been cheating on you for the past three months.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: my treacherous twin @harlowsbby 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You had been keeping close tabs on how your husband had been acting.

For the past three months to be exact.

Plenty of times you would pretend that you were sleeping and noticed that Jack would check to see if you were "sleeping" before immediately grabbing his phone and keys and would leave the house or he would go into the bathroom and be in there for hours.

You truly did not want to believe that Jack would do anything to mess up your marriage, but the amount of evidence that you had was beginning to pile up and he was looking more and more guilty with every day that had passed.

"Babe, where are you going?" You curiously asked. Bottom line was that you missed your husband, but he was obviously occupied with spending his time with someone else.

"Just out to that new club that just opened. Urban and Sunni are going to."

"Okay." You replied not even putting up a fight which Jack was surprised by.

"Okay? Not putting up much of a fight tonight."

"Well am I supposed to? You're a grown ass man that can do what you want."

"Oh really? But you've been giving me shit lately every time I want to hang out with someone who isn't you."

"I'm not arguing with you. If you don't want to spend time with your wife, that's on you."

Jack immediately rolled his eyes.

"Here we fucking go."

"Did I lie? It's like you don't even want to be bothered with me anymore."

"Baby! That is not true. I promise this weekend that I'm all yours. No interruptions. My phone will be off. Just me and you. Can you hold out until then, pretty girl?" Jack asked you and you sighed before finally nodding your head.

Jack leaned down to kiss you before he gave you his famous smile.

"I love you." Jack whispered to you and your foreheads were touching.

"I love you too. Have fun."

"I'll be back before you know it."

Once you had heard the door close and Jack pull out of the driveway, you immediately grabbed your phone to text your two best friends, Luna and Lav.

You- Plan is a go. He just left.

Lav- What’s the plan again?

Luna- LAV! Keep up! We’re trying to catch Jack cheating! We already know that’s what he’s been doing and we just need proof

Lav- Oh, okay. I’ll be ready in 20 and come get the both of you

Luna- So we can put an end to this shit for good. Now Y/N, what are you going to do when you actually do see him?

You- I hadn’t thought that far yet

Lav- So we out here just winging it?

You- I have to catch him in the act first and then we’ll go from there

Lav- Imma kick his ass

Luna- Count me in too

The three of you made your way into the club about an hour after Jack had originally left the house and knew that Jack would be somewhere near the V.I.P. area which was towards the back.

Big homie better hold up (Hold up)

Me and my whoadies 'bout to roll up (Roll up)

I say my whoadies 'bout to stroll up (Stroll up)

They comin' through the back door

You weaved through sweaty bodies and it took you less than five minutes to spot him in the corner with a girl grinding all over him. Next thing you knew, Jack had grabbed her and had passionately kissed her and she was eagerly kissing him back with his wedding ring glistening against the light teasing you. 

“No the fuck he didn’t.” Lav exclaimed while looking at the scene in front of her.

“Oh yes the fuck he did and obviously Urban, Sunni and the rest of PG knew because they’re literally standing around him like this is fucking normal.” Luna added before she peered over at you.

Just then you and Urban made eye contact and his eyes went wide and was immediately nudging Jack who then looked up in your direction.

All you did was shake your head and turn around to make your way out of the club and you briefly heard both Lav and Luna yelling at Jack and attempting to stop him from coming after you.

You felt trapped and as if you couldn’t breathe.

Once you had gotten outside you leaned against the side of the building and just let the tears fall.

Only a minute passed before you felt a presence behind you and you smelled the cologne that you had gotten him for Christmas last year.

“Y/N….” Jack said as he tried to place his hand on your shoulder and you immediately jerked away from him.

“I cannot fucking believe you, but then again I can. I KNEW IT.”

“Baby, just let me explain.”

“What is there to explain, Jack? Like what in the world can you possibly say to me right now that will keep me from kicking your fucking ass?”

“I just…. It’s not what it looks like.”

“Literally the oldest lie in the book. Please tell me you can do better.”

“Y/N, you know I love you.”

“I know that might be true however, you don’t love me enough not to cheat on me so you can go back to your little side piece because this, whatever this was is fucking over.” You said pointing in between the two of you.

“No, babe come on.”

“And the fact that Urban and Sunni knew and didn’t tell me anything?!? And would be covering for you? I fucking knew you were cheating on me.”

“Because you weren’t the wife I needed you to be!”

“So instead of coming to your wife about that you go and fuck someone else?! What sense does that make?!”

This white boy had you fucked all the way up and couldn’t believe what he had just told you.

“Every time I would try to talk to you it would start a fucking argument and I got tired of that shit!”

“It would turn into an argument because you always think you’re right all the fucking time when you’re not!”

“Oh? So you aren’t at fault in any of this?”

“JACKMAN! I DIDN’T FUCKING CHEAT YOU DID! AND UNLIKE YOU I’VE BEEN TRYING TO SAVE THIS SHITTY ASS MARRIAGE!”

“What are we saving it for if all we do is argue?!?”

“Oh. Then consider this done. Get your shit out of the house by Monday and I’ll be sure to call my lawyer. I’m getting half of everything.”

“WAIT! Y/N, we can fix this.” Jack exclaimed while trying to grab your hand once more but you simply backed up away from him. 

“Didn’t your ass just say that I was to blame because I got cheated on and what are we saving this for if all we do is argue? Keep that same fucking energy. You said that shit with your chest so stick by it. Oh, and don’t come home. You can stay with Urban or Sunni since they were in fucking cahoots with you this entire time.”

Sometimes I regret the day I put this ring on (Get in line)

Looking at my watch he should've been home (Get in line)

He always got them motherfucking excuses (Get in line)

I pray to God you reveal to me what his truth is (Get in line)

Since that night Jack had been continuously blowing up your phone but you weren’t giving him the time of day.

You were too busy trying to keep your sanity intact and trying for your life not to fall apart and you were failing.

Miserably.

There was no doubt in your mind that you truly did love your husband, but how in the world would you be able to come back from this?

Even if you did forgive him and decided to not divorce him, the fear of being cheated on again would sit in the back of your mind and you truly wouldn’t be able to trust him to go anywhere by himself.

And you obviously couldn’t trust Sunni or Urban who had also been blowing up your phone apologizing for not telling you and telling you how miserable Jack was.

He was miserable and he deserved that shit.

You were miserable too but you weren’t going to tell them that so therefore they got ignored right along with Jack. 

Just then you heard tiny footsteps and your daughter climbed up into your lap and tightly hugged you.

She could tell that you were sad, but you tried to distract her from asking where her father was and used the obvious excuse that he was working.

“Mommy sad still?”

“Just a little bit, but I’ll be okay. Don’t you worry.” You answered as you kissed the top of her nose and she giggled before smiling at you. 

“Daddy home soon?”

And that’s when your heart broke all over again.

You were more hurt at the fact that Jack had no regard for his daughter.

When she got older, she was obviously going to find out what he had done to you and only being 2 and a half, she already worshiped the ground that he walked on and he could do no wrong in her eyes.

He was her hero.

He was yours too, until about three days ago. 

You didn’t want her heart to break like yours did. 

“He should be bub.”

“Can’t wait!” She exclaimed while going towards her toy box and pulling out a stuffed animal that Jack had gotten for her in Sweden. 

A few tears slipped out, but you quickly wiped them away not wanting for her to see.

“Mommy? Markers, please. I want to draw daddy a picture for when he comes home.”

“Sure, bub. Let me get them for you.” You said getting up and going over to the cabinet next to the television in order to get out everything that she needed.

You turned around to see that she was already sitting at her little table and you placed the markers and paper in front of her.

“What are you going to draw for daddy?” You asked while sitting across from her.

“A picture of the three of us. You have to help me mommy to make sure it’s perfect. I want daddy to like it.”

“It’s coming from you so no matter how it comes out, daddy will love it.”

She got the biggest smile on her face and you couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Pass me the purple marker please! Daddy loves purple!”

Me and my daughter, we gon' be alright

We gon' live a good life (Good life)

You sat on the deck facing the backyard as you watched Jack play with Amiyah and slowly took in the scene in front of you.

It had been about a month since everything happened and since you didn’t want your daughter to pick up on anything being wrong, you told Jack to come home.

Come home, Amiyah misses you

How fucking ironic

It was extremely awkward between the two of you but you acted like the perfect couple in front of your daughter.

You loved the way she looked up at him when he picked her up and never wanted for that sparkle to leave her eyes.

Making your way back into the house, you decided on ordering pizza not having the energy to make dinner and you realized it was movie night.

It was Amiyah’s turn to choose even though you already knew her answer would be one of three choices. Moana, Encanto, or Princess and the Frog. 

You ordered the pizza and got all of Jack and Amiyah’s favorite snacks ready before bringing them into the living room.

As you were carrying the last of it, you heard the back door slide open and the laughter of your husband and daughter.

“Mommy! It’s movie night! We haven't made our pillow fort yet!”

“There’s still time, bub. I just ordered the pizza so we have about 45 minutes until it gets here. Ask daddy to help you.”

“Daddy come on.” She said while pulling him in the direction of the living room. 

It was the middle of the Princess and the Frog when you looked down at your daughter who was perched between the two of you and saw how she was fast asleep.

You didn’t want to disturb her as her head was in your lap as her feet were in Jack’s and decided to watch the rest of the movie.

You saw Jack eyeing you but you damn sure weren’t going to say anything first.

“Baby?”

“You know good and damn well you lost the privilege to call me that.”

“Y/N, please. I’m trying here.”

“You wouldn’t have to try if you didn’t do what you did.”

“Think of Amiyah, we want her to grow up in a household with two parents.”

“But not when her parents are miserable.”

“I will literally do anything to fix this and prove to you that I can be the husband you deserve.”

“Jack, I don’t want to talk about this right now. They’re about to meet Mama Odie and I want to sing but I can’t if you’re talking my ear off.”

“Y/N, if not then when?”

I ain't fucking with nobody (Nobody)

Toast to the good life (Good life)

Suicide before you see my tears in my eyes (In my eyes)

“Jack, I’m done crying over you. You chose to do this to us. You put us second and quite frankly, I don’t know if I can forgive you for that right now.”

“Then tell me what to do so that you can forgive me. I can’t live without you or our daughter.”

“You won’t live without us, but you might have to live without us being married.”

Jack went silent as one of your favorite scenes in the movie came on and you began to sing quietly not trying to wake up Amiyah.

When the movie was over, you simply turned to Jack as he made a motion to get up and pick up Amiyah to put her in her room.

He was by the steps when you called out to him and he quickly looked over at you.

“You better call Becky with the good hair because I meant it when I said that this was over between us.”

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

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[anisespice]

How about walking around in booty shorts to get your man’s attention❤️❤️

you got it, anon! thank you so much for your patience and for requesting !! i took wayyyyy too long to do this lol wasn't sure who you wanted for this, so i figured i'd just make it into an "insert who you want" kind of scenario. hope you enjoy :))

pairing: various x fem!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI. talks about posteriors (lol), suggestive themes, and i think that's all.

notes: been sick these past few days, so had to put a hold on the next part of "the fuck it list" :((( but hopefully i'll have it up sometime tomorrow, didn't want to leave you guys high and dry sooo !! hope you enjoy ♡♡♡

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐬 ∵ The ones who are caught completely by surprise, needing to do a double-take at them double-stacks attached to your spine to make sure his eyes were playing tricks. You didn’t normally wear them around the house, at least not without a big shirt that usually covered everything, so clearly you were baiting him for something; and consider him hooked. It didn't matter what he was doing before you walked into the room, consider it DROPPED + IGORNERED + NONEXISTENT. On the game with the guys? Dropped. Typing up a work email? Ignored. Watching a show? Nonexistent. Won't put his hands on you right away, his mama raised him better than that, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But he will side-eye tf out your ass until you eventually have to say something—He looked like he was finna pass out if you didn’t.

"You know you’re allowed to touch me, right?"

"Thank FUCK, I thought you were gonna torture me forever - please come over here now please, thank you.”

TAKEMICHI, kakucho, chifuyu, angry, SHINICHIRO, kazutora, kyotani, kenma, aran, kageyama, deku, kirishima, tamaki, twice, [insert anyone you want ].

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 ∵ DOWN BAD AND PROUD OF IT. Utterly shameless, eyes waste no time honing in on your ass the second you walk past him, indulging his intrusive thoughts by giving you a light smack on that thang just to watch it jiggle. Wearing a shit-eating grin when you turn to playfully glare at him; he fucking knows you love it. Doesn't even care if y'all got company either, I mean shittt - you didn't when you decided to walk around with them shorts on. Absolutely will follow you around, feel you up and everything, homie cannot keep his hands to himself to save his life. Not his fault you look so damn tempting, he just couldn't resist. Good luck trying to get anything done now, and prepare to be absolutely SICK of him. You wanted his attention, you got it.

"Oh my goddd, boy, leave me aloneee."

"Nah, don’t get shy on me now, babe. Nowhere close to being done with you."

SANZU, hanma, rindou, RAN, smiley, baji, mikey, MATTSUN, maki, tanaka, nishinoya, SUNA, ATSUMU, HINATA, bokuto, sero, denki, mirio, HAWKS, [insert anyone you want ].

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝-𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 ∵ Won't look like he's phased at all, you could be walking around in your underwear and he won't break a sweat. Honestly, he'll have you feeling stupid at first, thinking you weren't as irresistible as you thought. Fret not you sexy thing, that's just how it appeared on the outside. On the inside tho, that man was having some rather... depraved thoughts. He wasn't born yesterday, he knew you were trying to get a rise outta him, but he really needed to focus on his work right now. But, don't worry...once he's done, he got something for that ass later.

"You didn't think I was gonna let your little stunt slide, did you?"

kokonoi, WAKASA, izana, draken, MITSUYA, ushijima, KITA, daichi, kuroo, iwaizumi, akaashi, osamu, sugawara, oikawa, TODOROKI, bakugou, shinshou, shigaraki, dabi, [ insert anyone you want ].

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[missbaphomet]

God, I feel like a little girl having her first crush.

A little backstory, when I moved I found a place to play dnd hoping to make friends in the area. I found a group and started showing up. In this group there's this girl and from literal first meeting it was like meeting my other half. We were deadass finishing each other's thoughts, babbling excitedly about shared interests, we even both decided to play half elf bards. I knew immediately I wanted to be her friend.

I didn't at the time know I wanted it to be more than friends.

I guess my first clue was the second time I met her, I asked if she would want to move in with me in a year (it should have been obvious here that I like-liked her but I am a disaster of a bi woman) since I would be looking for a roommate and she was really cool. Not long after that I was telling the homies I had a crush.

I wanted to sit on it, get to know her a little better before I said anything, so I kept quiet. (I wonder if she noticed how I hung on her every word?)

A few sessions in, she messages me and tells me her character has a crush on mine. I won't lie, I was pretty excited. Obviously a dnd character having feelings for someone in their party doesn't necessarily translate to the real world, but I took it as a good sign.

Eventually she invited me to the game she was running, and I jumped at the opportunity to spend more time with her and play more DnD. She's a fantastic DM. We got closer, talking about the campaign and our characters.

That brings us to last Sunday.

We were hanging out after our DnD session, as we usually do, and it came up that someone from our Wednesday group had confided in her that they had a crush on me. I was totally oblivious, I was totally focused on my own crush! But hearing that... it made me decide that I should at least tell her how I felt. I didn't want to do it in front of the people that were still there chatting, and I DEFINIETLY didn't want to do it over text, so I waited for the right moment. Her brother plays with us, and he wanted to go home, and so I offered to take her home so he could leave and she could stay and talk. I can't tell you how excited I was when she agreed.

We talked with another member of the party for a while, then it was finally time to go. We're walking to my car, and I say "So, since we were talking about crushes... If you don't feel the same way, that's totally fine, but I have a crush on you." What she said left me starstruck.

"I kinda guessed. I mean, I am irresistible."

All I could manage to say in reply was "Real". I still feel like such a dumbass for saying that.

We talked a bit more on the way home, and she told me she wanted to think it over and see if she felt the same. She assured me it wasn't a no, but she wanted to be sure. I respected it, but I was a nervous wreck. I sent her another message just reassuring her that there was no pressure, that I would rather keep her as a friend than ruin things between us because she felt like she had to say yes. The next day, we planned a date.

We had DnD again today. As usual, we talked until the store closed, then talked more in the parking lot. She told me that when I brought up crushes, she thought I knew she had a crush on me. The reason she wanted to think about it was to see if she was conflating the feelings of her dnd character with her real feelings.

She did feel the same.

My heart fluttered all the way home. I was giddy. The first thing I did after getting to my apartment was gush about her to the homies. Now I'm gushing about it here.

I know you'll probably see this. I don't want to dox your name, but you know who you are.

I know I'm a disater of a person, but I can't express how happy I am you gave me a chance. I can't wait to see where this goes.

I'll see you Saturday.

[natsuki-bakery]

⁎˚ ఎ ICP Agere ໒ ˚⁎

Hey! I saw your Shaggy 2 Dope CG headcanons... and I was wondering if you could do a one shot where Shaggy is comforting an agere reader having a panic attack/mental breakdown after a horrible day? (Yes! I know requests are closed rn! I just wanted to get this ask in! I apologize! <3)

The day had been brutal. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong, one of those days where the universe seemed to conspire against you. You stumbled into your small, dimly lit apartment, shutting the door behind you with trembling hands. The tension that had been brewing all day finally snapped, and you slid down to the floor, gasping for breath as panic took over.

You weren’t even sure how it started—just that everything suddenly felt like too much. Like an elephant was sitting on your chest, squeezing all the air out. Your mind raced, flashing back through every awful moment, every mistake, every fear

As your vision blurred with tears, you fumbled for your phone, not even sure what you were doing, until your fingers, shaky and instinctive, pressed Shaggy’s number. He picked up almost immediately

"Hey, what up, ninja ?" His voice was casual, slightly raspy with that Detroit drawl that always made him sound like he didn’t take anything too seriously. But you couldn’t answer; you could barely breathe. The static-filled silence must have hit him harder than you expected because the next thing you heard was, "Yo, you good ? What’s goin’ on ?". You swallowed hard, trying to form words, but they wouldn’t come. Just a whimper

"Ah, crap" Shaggy muttered, but there wasn’t a trace of impatience in his voice. "You at home ? I’m comin’ !"

A few minutes later, the faint knock on your door echoed through the small space, cutting through your racing thoughts. You scrambled to unlock it, barely standing as you pulled it open. Shaggy 2 Dope, face clean of the signature ICP paint, just wearing a black hoodie and baggy jeans, stepped inside without a word

He took one look at you, eyes narrowing slightly, but then he did something you didn’t expect. Instead of asking questions or lecturing you, he knelt down in front of you and pulled you into a hug. It was awkward at first; the guy wasn’t exactly known for being touchy-feely. But you didn’t resist, collapsing against him, tears soaking into his hoodie as the panic finally started to break, like a dam cracking under pressure. He just held you, letting you breathe, letting you cry without saying a word

After a while, when your sobs had quieted down, he leaned back a little, still keeping one arm around you as he reached into his hoodie pocket with the other hand. He pulled out a plastic bottle of Faygo, of course he did, and handed it to you. "Here. Take a swig. Ain’t nothin’ like some good Faygo to put you back together !"

You managed a weak smile and took a sip. The drink sweetness hit your tongue, grounding you, bringing a bit of normalcy to the chaos in your head. But the heaviness in your chest didn’t leave. It never did, not right away. You were slipping, back into the smaller, safer version of yourself. The part of you that felt like a little kid, overwhelmed and unsure, that came out when things got too hard

Shaggy noticed the shift immediately. He might have been wild and brash most of the time, but he was sharp when it came to the people he cared about. He sat back a little, studying you, then reached into his bag again. This time, when his hand came out, he held a small pacifier, one you’d left behind in his car the last time you’d seen him. He handed it to you without making a big deal out of it. "Here, my lil’ homie" he said, his tone soft but playful, "thought you might want this !"

You hesitated for a moment, but when he nudged it closer, you took it from his hand and popped it into your mouth. The familiar comfort of the pacifier calmed you, helping you feel smaller, safer. Shaggy grinned. "There ya go, that’s better. Look at my little ninja now, all chilled out"

You snuggled deeper into his hoodie, feeling warmth from both the fabric and his words. You didn’t need to explain why you needed the pacifier or the safety of regression. Shaggy just got it—like he always did. He didn’t make it weird, didn’t question it. To him, you were just you, and that was enough

He said, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you, "you wanna color or somethin’ ? I got some paper in my backpack. We could draw some wicked clowns or dinosaurs. Whatever you’re into, little homie". You blinked at him, surprised. It wasn’t the first time he’d offered something like that, but it still caught you off guard how easily he rolled with it. Most people would think it was strange, but not Shaggy. He treated it like just another day in the Dark Carnival

He dug into his bag and pulled out a small, crumpled notepad and some markers. "These are old as heck, but hey, a marker’s a marker, right ?". You nodded, feeling a bit more grounded as you took a red marker and started drawing aimless scribbles on the paper. Shaggy started doodling too, his version of a clown with a twisted grin and oversized shoes coming to life on the page. Every so often, he’d make a sound effect—"Whoop whoop !" or "Bam! Right in the nose !"—making you giggle quietly through the lingering anxiety

"There we go, sugarplum" he said, looking at your drawing with a heartwarming smile. "You got some real skills, y’know ? And if the world tries to mess with you again, you just let me know. I’ll hit it with a dropkick. Ain’t nobody gonna mess with my little Juggalo !"

You smiled, feeling lighter in the way only he could make you feel. The markers, the silly drawings, the warmth of his hoodie wrapped around you, and the comforting presence of the pacifier in your mouth—it was enough to make the day’s awfulness fade just a bit

Shaggy leaned back, tapping your shoulder lightly. "You keep bein’ the tough lil’ ninja you are, aight ? But you don’t gotta be tough all the time. You wanna chill, be my baby clown for a while, you do that. I got your back no matter what. Ain’t nobody out here judging"

He gave you a reassuring smile, calling you "kiddo" and "sugarplum" here and there, his voice soothing as you regressed a little further. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear those words from someone like him—someone so wild but fiercely loyal

"I got your back, always" Shaggy said seriously, tapping his chest. "Ain’t no one messin’ with my little homie. We family, and that’s for life!"

You nodded, sniffling but calmer now. Being with Shaggy, being in this small, safe moment, was enough. You didn’t need to explain why you needed to regress, why your mind needed this space to recover. Shaggy didn’t need explanations—he just accepted it, accepted you. And in that, there was a kind of magic, the kind that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay

If you're in the basic criteria , are DSMP fans, vivziep0p fans , h0tel/h3lluva b0ss fans, Owl h0use fans, St4r butterfly fans, Ghibli fans, ddlg/abdl blogs, nsfw/k!nk blogs, anti-agere blogs, or anti Christians/Christianity blogs : just dont interact !

[scorpioracha]

Channie’s Room

I might be projecting justttt a little bit 🤪 but I know I needed this college student comfort so maybe others did too. If you like what I wrote don’t be shy and like,comment or reblog because they make my world go round. I hope you enjoy! Pls validate me

-Just imagine going straight to Chan’s studio after a long day of classes. All you have to do is send that man a text saying you’re having a hard day and his studio is suddenly empty of all members, a silly little coincidence

He threatened each member not to barge in via their gc

-Seoul is a busy and overstimulating place as is any major city and you didn’t necessarily go to school very close to the JYP building so Channie keeps you entertained your entire public transit ride by sending you texts about what the kids were up to during the day or how Chaeryeong whooped Changbins ass for the third time that week

-anything really to keep your mind of your own stress

-he would never say it but with the whole Eldest™ he has going on you being stressed stresses him out because why is one of his people stressed???

-while making sure you’re calm and okay his mind is racing with every possible outcome for why you could be having a hard time. Period? Sick??? Professor troubles????

-by the time you arrived at the studio he already has a plan made up in his mind to sue the entire department you’re studying in—students and all🤡

-he would set you up all nice and comfy on the couch while doing the quickest checklist for possible injuries or mental distress

-homie is fluffing the pillows next to you like ‘hmmm no bruises🧠📝’

-he’s a worrier and he’s not ashamed of it

-he’s great at keeping it all in his head

-until your eyes get all glassy and you’re sniffling

- be ready for an interrogation🤡 what’s going on? Are you okay? Who did it? Was it that Professor? He never liked that fucking Professor—

-he’s got himself so worked up you couldn’t help but giggle through your tears and you spend the next few minutes calming him down. No one did anything. The Professor you have is lovely. You were just feeling overwhelmed with the workload and knew his studio was a safe place to be, because he was there. now you’ve got him blushing and stuttering and his ears are hot.

-after he gets over himself he turns on Serious Chan mode and is asking you if you’ve had food and water for the day, If you’re sleeping well,etc

-he wants to make sure you’re physically okay and that your urgent needs are met before he gets into the mental with you

-it’s okay if you cry because he’s there to wipe your tears and he’s asking you how long you’ve felt like this, are you seeing an professionals? Because he would drop everyone dollar to his last dime to make sure you’re alright inside and out

-not doing well in a subject? Boom, he somehow knows another idol who aced that subject back when they were in school. Not sleeping well? Wowie the pharmacy is only a ten minute walk away and they have melatonin. He knows you’re eating because he’s made it a habit of you guys sending pics of your meals to each other 1)because it’s fun and 2)he knows how busy life can get for both of you and it’s a good way to keep you accountable

-you better drink your goddamn water because he has no problem dragging your ass into a hospital and asking them to give you an IV

-once you’ve cried your eyes out practically and your head is clear Channie always has spare towels for you to wipe down your face and he’s looking at you with a big grin asking if you wanna try out a new chicken place with him

-you’re always welcome in Chan’s studio, it days like this reminded you how appreciated you are