#whatever you were baking turned out blue i fear

[llovedletters]

𝜗𝜚 we can run away to the walls inside your house .ᐟ

currently playing ❛ sailor song ❜ in which: ❛ without much of a family of your own, you take to spending time with percy's family; sally finding a bit of her younger self in you. ❜

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pairing: ❛ percy jackson x fem!reader ❜ warnings: ❛ use of y/n, not super well written, very short, old people being nostalgic ❜

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"how do you already have flour on your face? we haven't even done anything yet." you smile to yourself as you tug on your sleeve, bringing the fabric to percy's cheek.

"when i pulled it down from the shelf it spilled a bit..." he leaned into your touch, his cheeks warm despite the cool weather.

as time passed and sally watched her son annoy the living hell out of you by messing up the recipe, she laughed to herself. paul turned his head to the woman sitting next to him. you and percy's laughs heard in the almost quiet distance. he'd give her a knowing look, prompting the 'what is it?' that left his mouth.

"she just reminds me so much of myself... that poor girl has no idea what shes getting herself into."

"are you making fun of your own son?"

sally tilted her head, her eyes meeting paul's, "no, i'm simply saying that if his father was such a handful imagine what she puts up with."

paul nodded, glancing back and forth between her and the pair throwing flour around the kitchen. "i doubt she minds, i mean look at her."

before you could get the chance to toss another fist of flour at him percy places one hand around your wrist, his eyes narrowing before letting your hand go. you regretfully place the powder back into the bag.

he places a finger through the belt loop of your jeans turning you slightly so you face him. percy wipes all the flour away from your face, trying to avoid the boring eyes of his parents. you tried hard to keep down the smile that tried to slip it's way onto your lips. you failed miserably.

"there she is..." his voice is soft, like every word he spoke was a secret just between the two of you. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before beginning to actually clean up.

paul looked back to his wife with a smile. "i think she'll be alright."

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. . .

A LETTER FROM LAY! guess who hit 111 followers! i've never done a follower event before but i do want to do one, so give me some time and i'll think of something!

this is super short but i fear it's been sitting unfinished in my drafts forever and i wanted it posted :)

[sunnixsunshine]

Gonna just post this all together lol uh big post, lots of words, whatever, enjoy

Anyway, meet Roronoa Hikoboshi and Orihime! Hikoboshi resembles Zoro’s dad, he takes over the restaurant eventually while Sora is off sailing, Shinjiro is off sailing, and Takehiko is just causing massive amounts of problems to every type of authority out there lol. Orihime is actually Pudding’s daughter, her only child in fact. Idk, Pudding just eventually gets over Sanji(good, hes way too old for you sweetie tbh; narratively I enjoy their story but ooooooof couldnt she have been at least 18?), meets a new gentleman whos just as kind to her. He, too, has an interest in baking and they open a bakery together, which eventually moves to the exact oart of the All Blue where Sanji resides. Hikoboshi and Orihime meet when theyre 15/16 years old and immediately theyre pretty infatuated. With Orihime being a fairytale and love at first sight kind of gal and Hikoboshi being just as much as a hopeless romantic as his father. When the two want ther parents to meet—its pretty awkward at first lol

Hikoboshi and Orihime is directly inspired by the myth and Tanabata festival itself. As I said, Hikoboshi more so resembles his grandfather Arashi. Orihime is supposed to look like her father the most, however I wanted to play with the idea of her resembling Big Mom a bit? Mostly just the hair honestly, which starts off as brown but as he gets older it gradually changes to pink. Which makes me think about the possibility of Pudding maybe holding some kind of issues against her early on???? Idk but I would like to explore the idea! Btw, their moles are supposed to reflect their respective stars’ positions, Vega and Altair!

But anyway heres my designs for Zoro’s parents. Arashi was s two swords style user trying to work his way up to three swords style before he died. He grew up an orphan on the very outskirts of the village after both of his parents passed away when he was roughly 10. Tera grew up on the same island but she wasnt born there, her father bringing her there when she was eeeeeh like 4-6. She didnt grow up in the village though, in fact she didnt up grow up having a home town to name, she doesnt know where in the east blue her family is specifically from, they camped out in a tiny cabin in the wood with a few other bandits. She gets lost a lot, which is where Zoro gets it! She actually ended up having to choose between “carrying on the family business” (being a thief) or Arashi, and she chose Arashi because she’s actually really bad ar being a bandit. They met when they were 18, married a year later, but it took four years to finally have a family of their own. And turns out Zoro is the only kid they ever would have. Quick little details; when Arashi was fatally wounded by the pirates attacking the village, his swords were both essentially destroyed and later buried with him. And so was his earring. Same with Tera, who had genetic illness, Huntington’s disease, however she actually died of pneumonia in the winter time, but her Huntington’s symptoms were prevalent and Zoro was aware of what was going on. She, too, was buried with her earring, two of Zoro’s earrings specifically just being replicas in memory of his parents. And gonna state it outright here: no Zoro doesn’t have Huntington’s disease, but it is a fear of his that he pushes off to the back of his mind constantly. Tbh I just think it makes him more human as a character to have such a natural fear, idk.

Something I kinda REALLY wanna expand on is my idea of Arashi and Koushiro having a relationship somewhat similar to Zoro and Kuina; Arashi being a few years younger than Koushiro who has actual training to begin with, Arashi having no formal training, just his parents’ swords that they left behind. Now neither of them even knew they were like distant cousins, to Koushiro Arashi is just this younger kid with an obnoxiously loud desire to go above and beyond to learn two swords style when he doesnt have any formal training nor does he even know one swords style! Koushiro finds Arashi annoying and even talentless—and yet for several years they met in a field so Koushiro could pass his formal lessons onto Arashi. Arashi couldnt learn at the dojo because he couldnt afford it. The lessons would stop once Koushiro is being prepared to take over the dojo one day and also when he meets his future wife—so hes about 21 give or take, Arashi is around 17 at the least. Their relationship was mostly bickering because Koushiro doesnt like Arashi’s rash attitude and tendency to goof off. And Arashi found Koushiro to be uptight and too grown up. Arashi never could surpass Koushiro in a dual, both one sword style and two sword style. Hes just always been several steps behimd Koushiro and that’s what pushed him to train more. Fast forward to present day, and honest to god Koushiro NEVER connected Zoro to being Arashi’s child. For one thing, he didnt know Arashi had a kid, thats how strained they became, and another, Koushiro, to be fair, doesnt even see an ounce of Arashi in this kid whatsoever. The ego and eagerness to go above and beyond, sure, but what little kid ISNT like that?? Anyway, it comes as a shock and a part of him feels more obligated to take care of Zoro after having witnessed Arashi’s death himself years prior when Zoro wouldve only been a toddler.

[androgynousblackbox]

How I Met Your Father. 11 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

AO3 link

How We Got Separated

"Where are you going?" Emily asked, floating behind him.

Alastor did not answer. He kept making his way to the main doors that thankfully were easy to find. The door that he came out from was one of many in an ample circle full of other ones, but he could not care less to find out what was behind them. There were no other angels or winged creatures present. Only Emily that seemed to be more curious to know what he was planning than to stop him.

When Alastor opened up the crystal doors, he had to squint his eyes again. Why did everything in this place had to be so bright? How did anyone could see anything like that? As soon his vision adjusted, his stomach dropped through the floor back to home.

The sky was a clear perfect blue, decorated with fluffy white clouds. All the street were spotless shinny gold reflecting that could reflect anything like a mirror. Not a single trace of vomit, trash or blood as far the eyes could see. Nobody was fighting or yelling. Every creature that was passing by had their own set of wings and halo.

The air he was breathing in was too pure. It smelled vaguely pleasant, like someone was baking cookies everywhere at the same time. So perfectly organized, so immaculate that surely not even a pin would be out of place without getting fixed.

Alastor felt his own soul snearing. How could anything be so vile? How did anyone could live like this and not want to blow their head off to scape it? Where was the chaos? Where was the violence and grossness of the human condition? Where was the power struggle and the heart wrenching failure? Where was the fear that pumped the heart? Why nobody was screaming!?

What kind of monster could set up such a setting for eternity?

Controlling his own nausea, Alastor forced himself to move. He had already seen where he wanted to go. Emily noticed the direction of his eyes and perked up.

"Oh, do you want to see Saint Peter?" asked.

"Yes" said without looking at her.

The creatures that were on his way all moved to let him pass. They weren't doing it out of fear for knowing his reputation. They were just being polite. Some even said "excuse me" as if somehow it was their mistake that Alastor wasn't paying any attention to them.

Hell.

This place had to be the real hell after all. It made sense. He had too much fun back at home and now finally was receiving the punishment he deserved. His own personal hell. And he was called cruel? Oh, whatever he ever did, alive or dead, was child's play compared with the sadistic mind that would make such a horror as this one.

Alastor speed up.

"I can take you with him directly if you want" offered Emily, keeping up easily with him.

"No, thank you" said Alastor, clenching his jaw. "I missed the part where you explain why you are following me."

"Well, you seem… a little upset. And it's my job to spread joy to everyone so, I should probably do something with that. If there is any way in which I help you out to adapt better to Heaven, please let me know."

"Joy?" Alastor laughed, like that was a foreign idea. In this place at least it was and certainly more with this creature that was annoyingly remind him to Charlie. Good grief, that would be just the best way to torture him. To twist the knife on his gut real good. "Are you part of my punishment too?"

"What?" When Alastor didn't clarified any further, she continued, concern layering her voice. "I am… Are you okay? Maybe the travel was too abrupt and left you confused? I assure you, nobody is here to punish you. The punishment is over actually! You don't have to worry about anything anymore."

Alastor stopped on his tracks and turned to her.

"I assure you, my dear. I am very well aware and conscious of my surroundings" said, his smile feeling tense as his eye twitched. "That is not the issue I am facing. If you care about my wellbeing, you can rest easy now and come back to your heavinly duties. I don't need a babysitter."

Emily pouted at that. Clearly, she wasn't used to people rejecting her help. He started walking again and she didn't stay behind.

"I am not trying to babysit you!" she protested, floating at his side. "You are obviously going through something right now and a friendly hand goes a long way! If you let me help you, I am sure you will feel better."

Alastor looked around them, almost expecting mocking faces or people to look weirded out at anyone trying to be caring out of in the open. But everyone just kept walking, trusting that whatever was happening this Emily would know how to handle it already. That also meant that nobody was going to do anything to take this angel off his back if she decided to stick around.

He mentally groaned. Maybe if he played along for a bit she would be convinced to leave him alone.

"I changed my mind. Take me to Saint Peter" said and after a beat, added. "Please."

Emily arched an eyebrow, but she still smiled with a nod.

"Of course. I understand that for new souls it's always difficult to adapt to their wings. Later I can teach you how to handle yours! Lift your arms."

"My what" Alastor lifted his arms, trying to look at his back when suddenly Emily took him by the hands, elevating him on the air.

The travel up to the gold gates he had seen at a distance lasted only a few minutes. Emily let him land softly on the ground and floated to knock on the gate.

"Peter, can you come in for a moment? A new soul that just arrived wants to speak to you."

"Sure!" A perky voice answered on the other side and the gates opened. Alastor saw another road of gold up ahead that got lost in more clouds, no clear beggining or end. If he managed to jump from it, would he be able to get home or would just be a splatter on Earth, only to be brought back again? "What I can help you with?"

Alastor looked up to the saint and something inside recoiled at his too big openly friendly smile, full of good disposition to spare laid out in the open. Was this man ever really a human? Where was his nose? What did Heaven had against noses?

"I wanted to ask if you can see my name" said Alastor, after swallowing. "I believe there must have been a mistake. I shouldn't be here."

"Well, my friend, if you are here it must be because you are supposed to be here! Although it is weird that you didn't appear here directly. I am supposed to be the one to greet the new ones, not you, Emily" commented Saint Peter with a slight frown.

"That is because he is a reformed soul!" intervened Emily enthusiastically. "He appeared right in front of me and Sera at the very center of everything! That must be why he had a different way of entrance."

"Oh, seriously? Reformed from where?" Saint Peter looked at him with a new look of curiosity and Alastor showed his teeth on a too wide smile too, more than willing to bite if he put his hand on him. Saint Peter made a oh sound when understading reached him. "From downstairs. Right. Yeah, I can see that now. He is still a bit… rough around the edges, huh?"

"I am sure a period of adjustment is to be expected" said Emily, conciliatory.

"I will say. But anyway!" Saint Peter shrugged, elevating himself on the air to reach his book. With a flick of his wrist the thick volume floated in front of him, the pages moving from front to back. "I can take a look if that makes you feel any better. Your name, please?"

"Alastor… " Alastor looked down at his hand to see that his wedding ring was gone.

He was expecting something like that, it was only logical, but actually seeing it was still a new kick to the face. To make it even worse, his hands were so different now. The skin of his hands was desaturated brown instead of pure black and the tips of his fingers had lost their intense red color, turning into a muted pink. If Charlie was there, people wouldn't connect them directly as father and daughter even if they did paid attention.

"Alastor… what?" asked Saint Peter.

Alastor frowned. Did that last name even applied to him anymore? They had taken his colors, his family, why not his last name too?

"Try Morningstar" suggested anyway, without noticing the way that Emily's eyes light up. "If that doesn't appear, Abaddon."

"Morningstar?!" repeated Emily, looking him down and up. She gasped, holding her own cheeks. "Are you the father of Charlie Morningstar by any chance? I did heard that one of her parents was a sinner! I knooow…" The eyes of Emily darted for a second to Saint Peter, concentrated on looking in his book. "I mean, I didn't know that you were him! What a coincidence that you would be the first success of her hotel!"

The way she laughed, keeping tabs on Saint Peter, concentrated on his book, made Alastor suddenly a bit more interested on her. He decided to save that as a mental note for later.

"I am" said, relaxing a bit more around her.

Charlie did mentioned a seraphim that was willing to listen and believed on her ideals just as much as she did. This one had to be it. Emily smiled again, taking his hand to pat it gently. Alastor allowed her to.

"She would be so proud of seeing you right now."

He just let the silence fill the space until Saint Peter spoke up again.

"You are here" said, floating close to Alastor. He turned the book around so Alastor could see his name, at the very bottom, written with the same golden ink as any other. "Right there, see? Alastor Morningstar."

A small comfort, but a comfort all the same. Alastor clinged to that feeling as strong as he could. That is right, that was him. He was part of the Morningstar family, ring or not.

"I suppose you don't actually know why, though" said, knowing already that it was useless and useless it was when Saint Peter shrugged.

"Sorry, not my job" said, returning the book to its place. "Is there anything else I can do?"

Alastor looked at the saint and then at the gates.

"Oh no! What is that horrible thing over there?" Alastor pointed at something on the side.

When both angel and saint turned their heads, he made his way to the open gates. The stupidest and oldest tricks on the book sometimes could still work. But even though he was sure that his feet landed on the other side, he felt a pressure around him as if moving through a wave and suddenly found himself in the exact same place where he started.

"What are you doing?" asked Saint Peter, honestly confused.

Alastor grunted and ran again. For a second he thought this was working, only to be pushed back.

"Is… is he trying to leave?" Saint Peter looked to Emily to confirm that his eyes weren't deceiving him. Nobody had ever tried to leave.

"Mmm" Emily frowned with concern when Alastor raced a long way back and then throw himself to the open gates, with the expected result of landing on the floor over his side. He couldn't get hurt, but still it wasn't something she liked to see. "Alastor, I don't think that is going to work."

Alastor glared at her. The sudden rage behind his eyes took her aback, but did not scared her and that was even worse for his mood. She had no reason to fear him. Here they were on her home. She had the power and ranking over him, which meant he was at her mercy.

Emily offered him her hand to help stand up and Alastor took it. But instead of lifting himself up, he pulled the angel closer and spoke to her on a low, controlled, voice, just for her ears.

"Get me out of here or I will tell everyone you helped out the king of hell to have an unofficial meeting with a winner. Let's see what the rest of heaven thinks of a seraphim that is supposed to spread joy breaking the rules."

"Everything okay?" asked Saint Peter.

"Yes!" said Emily, quickly, turning around to him. Alastor was relieved to see that he had hit the nail on the head. He wasn't entirely sure she was the same seraphim when he said that. "Everything is perfect! Alastor was just… playing a little prank, right? Right, Alastor? A little joke for Peter?"

That was more like it.

"Yes, a prank" said, returning to his normal charming smile. "A winner trying to escape heaven after finally managing to get out of hell! Tell me if that is not the hilarious thing you have ever heard."

"Ooh, I get it now!" Saint Peter laughed, so hard that his eyes started to tear up. "That is hilarious! You would have to be an idiot to do a thing like that!" He calmed down finally, smiling to Emily. "Heaven could always do with another kidder, right? Makes things more interesting."

"Absolutely, yes" Emily bite her lip. "But, uh, I have to give Alastor the tour now. You know the drill! I will let you get back to work."

"Don't worry, it was a slow day anyway so I needed the distraction" Saint Peter chuckled as he patted the back of Alastor, completely missing the look full of murderous intent that he got as a response as he flew to the other side of the entrance no issue. "Welcome to heaven, Alastor. Feel free to come by anytime!"

"Thanks for your help!" said Emily, waving at the man until the gates were closed. Once she was sure they weren't moving anymore and therefore Saint Peter couldn't hear them, she turned to Alastor with tense fists at her side. "You know, when someone does a favor for you, most people would be grateful instead of holding it over their heads by blackmailing them!"

"I was grateful" said Alastor calmly", right until I got stuck here against my will. I was perfectly content back in hell."

Emily's eyes widened at that.

"Wait, really? I thought the hotel was for redemption. Isn't end up here supposed to be the goal?"

"Mine wasn't. I was only there to support Charlie" Alastor sighed, rubbing his temple. This is what it got him try to be a good father. "I had a daughter, a husband and a life I had built for myself after years of hardwork. Why, and pardon my french, the hell would I want to give up any of that to be here?"

"Oh" Emily looked down, twisting her hands together. "I-I am sorry, I didn't know. I thought this was what you were looking for. If you didn't, then of course you would be upset to being send to an entirely different realm."

Alastor let his shoulder fall. Truly, she wasn't more to blame for his situation than anything else was. At least she was able to actually listen instead of insisting how lucky he should feel for being there.

"I have to get back. My family needs me" Emily nodded, but her eyes still had doubt on them. Alastor crossed his arms. "Surely there must be a precedent to a soul being send back to hell. If my husband managed to get kicked out from here, there is no reason why I shouldn't."

"Your… Oh, right, Lucifer. I don't know, Alastor. Angels and human souls are not really treated the same. I think maybe the rules are a bit more strict for us. Heaven is supposed to be for humans after all."

Alastor thought of Adam. That crude, violent man who took genuine joy of slaughtering people. Besides that last detail, with no redeeming qualities that he could imagine. A human soul given too much power that reveled on it. Maybe that was the real reason why he still was up in Heaven while others had been casted out for doing a lot less. He had been deemed "worthy" already, the decision was final.

"I have no use for a place like this" said, disgusted at the thought. "Find a way to get me back or I will do it after telling everyone what you did. If I have to burn every house I come across and slash every neck that I can get my hands on, then I will. I will show to you and the rest of heaven how right they were sending me to hell."

Alastor wanted to call his magic to give his words more emphasis. But his shadows didn't respond and no tentacles were coming out of him. Did he even had any power left on this new realm? It made him sick just to think of how weak he had to be now. He didn't let any of that show on his face, smiling as usual.

Emily stared at him, not sure of how to respond.

"Okay, so, just so we are clear, we don't want to come to that, right? We both can agree there" asked after a while.

"I don't know, I feel with a particularly arsonist mood every minute I am away home" He sighed. "I am missing the battle too by being here. That doesn't help."

"You mean the… Oh" Emily floated closer and Alastor remembered that the rest of Heaven wasn't supposed to know about the extermination. He could probably use that as more leverage. "Is that how you ended up here?"

"Are you asking me how I died for the second time?" Alastor arched an eyebrow, amused. "Isn't that a morbid topic for an angel to feel curious about? Do you want me to describe how I felt myself drowning on my own blood, my dear? Or how I touched the injury of my neck open? Oh, wait, I could give you a demostration myself! Since Heaven won't let me have pain, I could just…"

"Do you do that a lot?" asked Emily suddenly. "I already accepted to help you out, Alastor. You don't have to try to intimidate me."

Alastor cleared his throat. Old habits died hard. She was more perceptive he gave her credit for.

"You do realize that try to send a winner to hell falls under the breaking rules category, right?" changed the topic easily.

"But if I don't do it, you will tell I already broke the rules before so what is the difference?" Emily frowned. "And just so you know, I would have help you even if you weren't backmailing me. If you genuinely are miserable in Heaven and want to return to your family, that would be the least thing I could do. I don't want anyone to be sad for all eternity."

"My mood is irrelevant. Like I said, they need me down there" clarified Alastor, holding his hands behind his back. "That is a nice sentiment, but I need to be sure we are going to be on the same boat, dear" Alastor smiled wide, petting her head like a little kid that was finally learning to multiply. "That is how we do things back in hell. I can't count on your word alone. If I don't fall, you fall. Or whatever else they decide to do with you, I don't know or care. Understood?"

"You are really mean" Emily pouted slightly, looking to a side.

Alastor did too when he thought of Lucifer calling him out.

"I know" said, before taking a breath. "How are we going to go about this? I already know what method I prefer to go with. The infinitely funnier one. Let's hear yours."

"Maybe the library?" suggested Emily. "It has a record for the most notorious souls that reached Heaven. If there is a soul that was vanished to hell after coming here, their name should come up. Then we can find out how they did it."

With no other alternative, that is where they went. The whole library seemed to be a cathedral by itself, way too big for anyone without wings or that couldn't fly, which was not an issue for Emily. As she was elevating herself to reach at the highest registers of books, Alastor had no other choice but to wait for her on the ground. That obnoxiously clean reflective ground that was returning to him the image of his new body there.

It was awful. Besides the change on his own skin, his hair had become duller like his finger tips. His whole suit had been changed into a soft yellow with some details in pure white, like the cross on top of his chest, the sleeves and the lapel jacket. He hated it, almost as much as the white his antlers had turn into, but none of that was as offensive and disgusting to his mind as the pair of white wings at his back and the halo above his head. Those two things in particular made him want to slam his head against the reflection until somehow he could destroy it or cause enough brain damage that he would die again.

On the time that Emily took to come back, he had at least the chance to learn to conjure his staff. White and gold, again, with a red heart on the center rather than an eye. The same connection was there, but it felt different, warmer than before. He wasn't sure that he liked that.

The only thing he could very well tolerate was his new brown eyes. He knew those were the closest to his when he was alive and that made it all the more alien after years getting used to the red ones.

Alastor gripped his hands together behind his back, elevating his gaze so he could ignore that. He didn't want to get used to any of this.

He was hoping she could have a faster solution at hand. A potion, a crystal, a portal. Anything that he could just eat, grab or jump into directly into the fiery pits that he called home, only to forget he ever saw any of this.

Purely because of habit, his hand reached out for his pocket and, surprisingly, something was actually there. He pulled his pocket watch and stared at it. Why was that still with him, but not his magic or ring?

"What is that?" asked Emily, floating nearby with a book on her hand.

The book in question was thicker than her entire torso. Despite that, she seemed to have no issue at all handling it.

"A present from Lucifer" said Alastor, frowing. "I don't know why it followed me to here."

Emily flied over him, throwing a quick glance to the object. Just that seemed to tell her everything she needed to know.

"It's made of angelic steel, isn't it? Then technically it already belonged to Heaven, so I guess it just came to its origin. With all the more reason if you are the owner" she explained, taking the book to a nearby table to open it up. One of the heavy half of the book slammed against the table, but no dust came because of course it wouldn't. Emily wasted no time going over the written lines, her eyes quickly jumping from one point to another. "It's a beautiful work, by the way! I haven't seen steel used like that in a long while. I guess people consider it old fashion now."

Alastor smirked at that. It was old fashioned in hell too. That is why Lucifer knew it wouldn't be out of place for him to have it. He opened up the cover and the clock was still ticking like normal. If what Vaggie said was true, then his time was still the same as it was on hell. Meaning that there had been already four hours since the battle started and two since he died again.

"Right now the first man must be dead" assumed, shrugging as he put the watch back where it belonged.

Emily shook her head at the casual comment.

"What-what? Why do you say that?"

"He killed the spouse of the devil. In hell" Alastor explained it like it should be obvious enough, relying his weight on the marble table. "A dumb move if I ever saw one. Lucifer doesn't know that I am here either. I will be very surprised if he left any of your little exorcist alive after that. Ah, what I would give to have seen it with my own eyes. It must have been truly glorious. To not witness my husband going all out on some puny angels and stain the ground gold with their blood in a mockery of Heaven might be the biggest tragedy of it all."

Emily stared at his wistful expression. She did not understand hellish beings at all.

"I don't know if to be creeped out or endeared by that" said after a while. Her finger was still moving over the page, following each line. "Your face and the words you say are confusing me."

Alastor chuckled. He took notice that she wasn't saddened by the lost of Adam or the other exorcists, which did earn her a few more points.

"Feel whatever you want, dear, but do keep searching. The sooner I can come back, the sooner I can ask Lucifer all the details."

Emily sighed.

"I don't know how long this could take" recognized, throwing a glance at him. "You know, while I am doing this, you could…"

"No" Alastor alredy knew what she wanted to say.

"You didn't even let me finish."

"I won't go visit my mother."

"Ah." Emily played with the corner of a page for a second, almost shy. She knew she was threading on personal territory and didn't want to overstep his boundaries. Alastor could appreciate that. "Mmm, want to tell me why is that?"

"What is the point? Just so I have to say goodbye again? To tell her sorry, mom, I actually prefer to live in hell for the rest of eternity than live in heaven with you? By the way, we might never see each other again, so let these be my last words to you." He exhaled through his lips, practically a snort but not quite. Luckily for him the entire library was empty with the sole exception of a library angel that was floating on the furthest shelfs, no interested in telling them to shut up. "What mother wants to hear something like that from their only son? What person even?"

Emily pressed her lips together, thoughful.

"She does know Lucifer though. And Charlie" said, as gently as she could. "I am certain that she would understand that you want to be with them. And don't say again that your mood is irrelevant. You are allowed to miss your family."

Alastor's lip twitched as he straighten up again, leaving the table. Emily followed up his movements, not sure if she had screwed up or how badly.

"Keep looking, dear. I need some… disgustingly fresh air. I might see where I can get gasoline."

"You are not going to burn houses, right?" asked Emily. The snickering she could hear from Alastor did nothing to calm her down. "Hey, no cut anything either, okay? If there is anything here that can help I will find it! Just have some patience, alright?"

Alastor dedicated her a high thumbs up, not promising anything. When he heard a little groan from Emily, he draw a bigger smile. She was too easy to pick on.

He thought that a walk would help distract his mind and it did, replacing the thoughts of his mother with more disgust directed at this entire realm that he thought was capable of. Up head he saw someone dropping their purse while talking through the phone, only for a stranger to pick it up and give it back without even trying to see what was inside. The owner of the purse thank them, they shook hands and each of them were their separate ways.

Neither of them tried to knock the other. There was no demand for a reward. There was no second inspection of the purse to see that something gross hasn't been put inside. There was no bomb in the purse to surprise any of them. A perfectly civilized and calm interaction that nobody around them cared about.

How utterly disgusting. How could they live like this? Every day for eternity?

Alastor shook off the shiver that ran through him and continue walking. If Lucifer could find him no matter where he was with his own angelic powers, then no doubt Emily could do the same when she found his way back home.

He didn't had any concrete objective in mind, so his steps somehow end up in what looked to be a commercial area. Except that everything was for free all the time and yet, nobody was trying to take out the products off the shelfs or exhibitors. It was all registered calmly by a cashier and it was done, wishing everyone to have a good day with a genuine smile. Absolute madness.

He was looking for a butcher shop or appliance for the kitchen where he could see the knives, when a reflection in the vitrines made him stop. He turned around and wasn't wrong. An exorcist was just coming out from a ortophedic shop, testing out still the shiny metal arm coming up above where her elbow used to be.

Alastor felt his heart skip a beat. Did Lucifer do that? Did his love ripped an arm clean on his rampage? Oh, he could only imagine the scream of pain that exorcist would make. He hoped it had been a espectacularly high pitched one. The voice of a soprano perhaps whose painful notes could break glass. The only question was why was she alive. The thought of her somehow managing to escape was unlikely, but not entirely impossible, he imagined.

Before he could realize what he was doing, he was already following after her, instinctively knowing to keep a healthy distance to not alert her at first. Did any of them survive too? Was Adam somewhere? But no, that would be actually impossible. Once Lucifer had a reason to want someone dead, they had to be a goner. Of that he had no single doubt.

When the exorcist turned in a corner, Alastor went there too and immediately was knocked against the wall. Her metal arm was pressing against his chest.

"Why the fuck are you following me?" asked the exorcist. Alastor noticed that her eyes looked so very tired and slightly red, like she had been crying not that long ago. That brought him even more joy to think were tears of grief. "If you like me so much, you could be less of a creep about it. But beyond that, I am not interested so you can forget it."

"Goodness gracious, no!" Alastor laughed at the misunderstanding. If he did ever had such intentions, she would have never seen him coming. He had been so curious that he didn't bothered to be as stealth as he could be. "I am a married man, my dear. Trust me, I have zero interest on you in that way."

The exorcist arched an eyebrow, looking down for a second before looking up again.

"I don't see any ring."

Alastor's eyes crinkled.

"My point still stands."

"Why were you following me then?"

"Well, you see, dear" started Alastor, grabbing her arm and twisting it to press it against the exorcist's back, putting her now against the same wall. Even without his powers, he still remembered a thing or two of how to use his body. "I just have a couple of questions and I will let you go. Simple as that. First one, you just came back from the extermination, didn't you?"

The exorcist froze in place, stopping her attempts to get ride of him and looked at him over her shoulder. It took her a couple of seconds, but soon her eyes widened with recognition.

"The red demon on the roof."

Alastor gave her a toothy smile. He had no idea of who she was without her mask. To him she was just any other of the exorcist that used the same dark uniform. It still made him happy that apparently she had been paying attention during the fight with Adam.

"The radio demon to be more exact."

"W-why… what are you…"

"To tell you the truth, I am just as confused as you are, dear. I am trying to rectify this mistake right now. If we are both lucky, I won't be on the same realm as you for long. But that doesn't answer my question, doesn't it?" Alastor let her go when he realized she wasn't going to fight anymore. She turned around, her hand holding onto the start of her mechanical arm as if it was suddenly hurting. Alastor sighed, lifting a finger to press against the metal plaque. "Did my husband do that?"

The exorcist looked creeped out by the tone of his voice. Alastor did not bother to hide the yearning on his voice. Here he didn't had to keep the secret from anyone.

"N-no…" Her eyes darted around, no doubt evaluating the prospect of risking causing a scene. If she did, Alastor would loudly talk about the extermination for anyone to hear. They both knew it. "No, I did it."

"Well, that was stupid and dissapointing. What happened after I was out of commission?"

"Adam…" The exorcist closed her eyes, as if saying that name was already costing her too much. Alastor smiled bigger. Oh, a true loss. How fun. "Adam went for the princess and Lucifer appeared."

"Then what?"

She sighed, her brow wrinkling at the effort of controlling herself. Alastor waited. He could have patience for this.

"I don't really know how, but he took us all out. It all happened so fast. First Adam, then everyone else."

"You are the only survivor?" asked Alastor, imagining alredy the terrifying vision that it must have been to witness.

The sounds of the scream and slaughter as they all succumbed to the king without quartel, learning way too late that they couldn't do anything against his king. More than ever since waking up in Heaven, Alastor so wished to hold Lucifer.

"That is so awful" said Alastor with obvious mirth. "He left you to be his messanger. What message did you had to deliver that it was worth your life, dear?"

The exorcist nodded.

"He said…" She swallowed, looking to a side. "He said I should get to live, knowing I couldn't do anything to save him. He also said that… all of that was the price for his sinner."

Alastor put his forehead against the wall above the head of the exorcist, closing his eyes as he breathed in. His whole body shivered as he bite down on his own fingers. The exorcist's eyes darted around as she took a silent step to the left, away from him. She didn't want to ask or know what was that about.

Alastor wouldn't have tell her even if she did, even if they were close friends instead of strangers meeting in the weirdest cicumstances. He wouldn't be able to describe the pure violent longing that made its home on the pit of his stomach, making him wish he could burn all of Heaven already. Burn them for ever making Lucifer to hurt himself and burn them again for having the audacity of keeping them apart. He wanted to do it now, until there was nothing more than ashes and the gold finally lost its shine, the sky turned grey and their gates was pulverized. The image was so clear on his head that it was already a beautiful painting. It would be his offering, his gift to Lucifer, given in a golden platter before he let the familiar flames consume him.

After a definitely uncomfortably long amount of time, Alastor woke up from his trance. He cleared his throat, regaining his composure as if nothing had happened.

"I am okay" said Alastor, fixing his suit. "Thank you for being so cooperative, dear. I have no use for you anymore so you can continue your merry way. I will keep my mouth shut too" added when she glared at him.

She had no reason to trust him, but for now the need of putting distance between the two of them was bigger than her reason. Right before she ran, her eyes fixated above Alastor and straighten up with a salute.

"Maam!"

Alastor had heard the delicate flapping of the wings already. When he turned around, though, it wasn't Emily that was standing behind him. That other, what was her name? The older one smiled pleasantly.

"You can go, Lute. I was intending to talk to our new resident. You earned yourself a rest."

Lute nodded emphatically, throwing a glance to Alastor before she put her legs to good use. Alastor likewise, hiting the floor with his staff.

"I don't believe we have been properly introduced, my dear! I am…"

"Alastor Morningstar" said Sera, tilting her head lightly. "Of course, Saint Peter told me already."

Was Saint Peter the gossiper of this place? Had he made a mistake already? No, they were going to find out his name sooner or later.

"Well, that is no fun!" declared Alistor with a lightheated chuckle. "I wanted to keep some sense of mystery for a while longer, but alas! Let me return the favor then. You are Sera, isn't it? I think Emily might have mentioned it when we first met."

The seraphim nodded. She was beautiful, he had to give her that, but she lacked the open arms aura of his husband. This angel kept her arms in front, where she could maintain at a distance what she didn't need.

"I am sorry I wasn't able to welcome you before. I had to have a talk with the elders about your… situation. You probably understand already how peculiar it is."

"No doubt about it!" laughed Alastor, wondering where the hell was Emily. "Emily has been a delight showing me around already! I don't think I will need any further assistance navigating this place. I appreciate the concern anyway."

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to offer you another tour" Sera put a graceful hand on his shoulder. "Would you mind coming with me so we can have a talk?"

This seraphim was older than Emily. Bigger and probably a lot stronger. Worse than that, he had nothing to hold against her. He had no choice but to follow, for now.

"Lead the way, dear."

[nemorialex]

The 25th June 13th

Today should have been horrible. It always was. Even if it was a “good” day, Alex’s fear, anxiety, and trauma came to tear at them, like wolves and flame to flesh… 10 years ago that was a literal statement.

That being said… Today was…

Today was good. 

Naturally, Frenchie spent the day with them. Alex probably wouldn’t survive the ordeal without him. He brought along Casey, who showed off new skirts and pelted her papa with beanbags. If there was ever a time where he earned that beautiful blue diamond badge and the title of “Moirail” it was now. A solid rock, a warm presence, and he did a damn good job of keeping them from spiraling.

Another reason for their good mood was declaring today a “baking” day. Eight pies (later totaling out to eleven) were made and sent out to friends and family. Shopping at the local consort market, out in the fresh air and bustling crowd of bubbles and chirps, provided clarity. Folding dough and measuring fillings and pipping out whipped cream took concentration that kept even their attention deficit mind occupied. They had even tried their hand at a couple of new creations! 

Dinner was also a success (when it had no right to be.) Frenchie looked amazing in his sky blue and cloudy suit, of course, and Dirk looked pretty ridiculous in a sleeveless tux. The bastard even used his new “accessory” of their sharp tooth as a tie pin, front and center. Taunting. But they weren’t going to get into that sort of fight tonight, Alex was going to keep their own dark blue suit and green tie clean of a scuffle. The restaurant that Frenchie worked at was a nicer place, but nothing RIDICULOUS like $500 garnishes or whatever; it was a good middle ground between dressing up and stressing out, and having been there a few times it familiar territory. 

Dirk gave them a gift. A piece of metal on a necklace in the shape of a tooth (bastard…) and decorated with moving, clicking, shifting parts… Something to play with? Something to solve? He also paid the check. 

After dinner, Alex went back to the boy’s home to spend the rest of the night there. Preferably cuddled up in an obscene number of pillows/blankets/plush while watching comfort movies until they fell asleep. Casey and Deb were dropped off earlier and by now they were tucked in. Or at least, they were off in a room with the door closed and pretending to be asleep. 

Before Alex could reach the cuddle pile, Zack caught them. With a jerk of the head, he lead his sibling outside to the balcony. 

“So… good day?”

“Actually…” Alex ducked their head and lowered their voice, as if some cosmic being would hear them. “Yeah… It was.”

“Cool. Good…” He nodded and looked out at the colorful dusk sky, studying those suddenly fascinating milky clouds. The silence stretched for a moment, just long enough to get a taste of the Awkward it would turn into when Zack spoke up again. 

“Obviously, I know you’re not into today.” He shrugged his shoulders in defense. “And I’m cool with that. Obviously.” 

“Obviously.” They echoed with a nod, a teasing smile playing at their lips.

“Shut up. Point is… Feels wrong to just. Let this one slide completely, y’know? It’s a milestone after all...”

“Milestone.” This echo was less teasing. It lingered as Alex collected the pieces implied. “Wait, is it?” 

“Yeah.” He looked back at them now, a teasing smile on his lips now. “You’re twenty five today, dude.” 

Alex sucked a tight breath through their teeth. Now it was their turn to see what was so fascinating about those clouds. It wasn’t as if they didn’t know their own age (and temporarily getting the dates mixed up did NOT count!) but the connections in meaning- the significance- was still there. He might as well strap a party hat to their skull and start blowing a noise maker.

Zack sighed. 

“Listen. It’s not even about today, okay? Forget about that. This is about you. You’re still my sibling. My little sister. You deserve… I dunno, something, right? Sum’in special. Lets just say it’s for the hell of it, even though making it to twenty five goddamned years with how batshit insane you are is a miracle in and of itself.” 

There was a nudge on their arm and Alex looked down at the small black box in his hand, then up at his face. He was pudgy. Not fat, per say, but his cheeks and chin were more rounded out and peachy and stubbled and healthy than- What mental picture were they trying to compare him to, here? When he was a rounder kid? When he was a re-discovered gaunt teen? When he was a muscular-by-survival young adult? Zack had called Alex his little sister. It wasn’t a forgotten slip-up, and it wasn’t out of malice. He was invoking a time long ago, built on a singularity between two, full of trust and love and defense. It felt… Okay, in this context and this instance. They understood the many, many words buried beneath the one.

Alex stared at him a moment longer as their hand slowly reached out and took the gift. A jewelry box, with a stiff and creaky hinge at the back. Inside was a clear crystal, only a couple of centimeters in diameter and completely spherical aside from the teardrop tail that connected it to a silver chain. While the outside was smooth, the inside was marred with cracks and beautiful imperfections. When Alex lifted it out of the box, those cracks within caught the last rays of sunlight and split it into a rainbow of refracted light.

“So get this, the store names each piece of jewelry, right? ‘Parently, this one’s called “Haven’s Tear.” It’s like, basically a solid fucking diamond, but. You know. Not from Earth. Think it’s got a different chemical makeup or something? Super rare, and I’m not telling you the price because you’ll shit your pants and then kill me.” 

His chuckles died at the lack of a response. Zack stayed quiet, even though they could tell he had a lot more to say. Alex looked up at him and- Wow, when did the world suddenly become wobbly and waterlogged? All at once, a hiccuping sob bubbled up out of them, those built-up tears spilling over. It was stupid! And spontaneous and weak and pointless and-!!! 

And it was a really sweet gift. With sentiment put behind it. With a little speech and a history (Zack had more to say, and Alex could see the little slip of informational paper just inside the cushioning of the box) Also it was at the end of a really, really stressful day that somehow turned out to be wonderful and–

“Thanks…” Their voice was wobbly. 

“No problem. May I?” Thankfully, Zack knew when to tone down the dramatics, but he was still being cheeky. He practically bowed and held out a hand to take their gift back. He carefully draped the chain around the front of his sibling’s heck and redid the clasp behind them, away from any loose hairs. After spinning them around by the shoulders to get a good look (the perfect fit, if he did say so himself) he closed the rest of the gap in a tight hug. Alex clung to his shirt, sniffling. 

“... You know I want to say it, right?”

Alex sniffled extra hard and gave him a wet laugh.

“Fine… Go ahead…”

He squeezed them tighter, and spoke quietly. 

“Happy birthday, Alex.”

[sleepy-seal]

{hi gale!! this'll be coming in waves so I don't flood your inbox too hard lmao. anyways part 1}

LORE Gale

What was the inspiration for his blue arc?

How was it putting ocean through every trial imaginable lmao

Not exactly LOREgale but why was Swap!Gale's hell Walmart. secondary why was shell in hell in the first place

At what point did the car dealership/rental service/whatever in Nebraska realize that something was Certainly And Extremely Wrong with Gale

Is he ever able to get therapy

Do you think when it was all calm he got some shitty storemade cake to celebrate

Did you ever want them to Go Insane?

Gale and Acher. can I ask about ocean's thoughts on the strange tiny murderous robot turned silly not-so-murderous robot throughout the arcs

Did anyone from Gale's old town wonder where they went?

Does he ever casually turn into a cat and then both people for a day

Has Gale ever gone to the ocean. because I think shell might like that. what was it like for them during Ocean Trip TM

OH BOY!!!!! MY FAVORITE

- the inspiration was partly inspired by, well, the pawn promotion. by becoming a queen lore gale became much more powerful than acher, and therefore much more dangerous. blue was kind of an improvised decision, as one of the main articles of clothing gale was wearing was . well, blue. so i kind of leaned into that a bit. the other part was well. the magnus archives. i made lore gale's character way more jarchivist coded than i intended so i leaned into it a bit, especially with gale progressively Losing their sense of humanity and their struggle trying to accept it.

- it was very fun lmao. they are my webkinz doll i am soaking with milk and throwing against the wall.

more answers under the cut because this is Long and i have a lot of things to say

- swap!gale's hell is walmart because 1) my partner moth goes there frequently and laments about how much of a labyrinth it is and 2) have you Seen walmart?? also the reason why sale is in hell is. um. fraud?? and also being a willing accomplice in and also enabling some of moth's war crimes.

- probably the moment gale walked into the dealership. they were glowing and sweaty and looked like they just got out of a fight (which they did) and immediately asked for a rental which. uh. definitely set people off. also their fingers were blue.

- maybe! once they are financially capable of it at least.

- probably! it would probably be a time when gale isn't in Stress Baking Mode but also too fatigued to make anything so they just buy a single cake slice and eat that. it tastes terrible but it's probably the most comforting thing they've had in a while

- yes. absolutely. 100%

- okay so i will try to simplify it enough in a way that Makes sense but also gives some insight to their thought process.

> gale under the belief that acher Really Is Moth or close to it and treats them as such, upset that "moth" is not really moth. they are also afraid of her

> they abandon "moth" and cut them off for a brief while, sabotaging its plan

> pure fear. they don't want to die to "moth". they briefly consider murder but quickly write it off

> truce. a calm period where gale thinks there may be a chance of redemption and rekindling

> moth comes back. he takes his eyes off acher and focuses more on shell's friend

> neutral, almost unfamiliar. acher asserts that they don't Actually care about anyone and gale believes them. since the real moth came back they can focus on them instead of the doppelgänger of the friend.

> rocky. they are on uneven ground and since the truce is technically off, it doesn't take much for acher to get on their bad side. this is probably the stage where gale is at their most unstable and willing to hurt back.

> truce, but better. gale hasn't quite forgiven acher yet. they can't. but at the very least they trust him enough to try again.

> trust. acher is a friend. they put their full faith in acher on improving and growing, even if forgiveness is not in sight yet.

- sorta? there were people gale knew before they ran away that considered gale a friend, but not the other way around. some of them think that they probably died, and some of them think they ran away because life was just too hard. their family misses them technically, but they also blame ocean for being so selfish.

- YES. 100%. turns out there are multiple benefits to being a cat. 1. is nobody will question you when you are annoying, because that's Just Cat Things.

- THEY HAVE! gale visited gem's cousin jeremy once or twice. he lives in california with his boyfriend, and they occasionally come by for family reuinions. mostly to see gale. but gale LOVES the ocean. they didn't get to see it much but it's always so big and they don't stop talking about the phenomenon that occurs in the sea.

[the-sidekick-club]

Happy Birthday Sadie!

Today, March 5th, is President Sadie's birthday! And ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed individuals we have a treat for you. It's time for a drum roll please… character interview!

Tws: None

Word Count: 2k... most of this length comes from overly-detailed baking descriptions.

"Good whatever time it is where you are ladies, gentlemen, and esteemed individuals. I'm your host, @tratieisdabest, welcome to Aiga Author News." I say excitedly. This is a special episode, and we have a very special set of guests. 

"Today we have a very special interview because it's President Sadie's birthday! Hi there, President Sadie, how are you today?" I say as she makes her way into frame, the fourth wall once again having crumbled. 

Thankfully, we have a device that quickly rebuilds it, known as the "Pretend this never happened and don't write anyone remembering it" button, a design born of my fellow writers and my genius. 

The President gracefully waves before taking her special seat, which is in her very special shade of blue and incredibly comfortable. 

"Thank you for asking, Trax, I've been great! A bit tired from baking my own cake, but I did get some help from Alexa, which was nice." Sadie replies. But suddenly the studio starts to wibble-wobble… back in time! That's right, folks, its time for a flashback!

—

Earlier today (March 5th), Sadie's parents' house. 

In the Delmira household, things were busy. Sadie's mom and dad don't have names because it hasn't been important to the story… yet! So they will be referred to as MenderMom and MenderDad. Anyway, MenderMom and MenderDad were hanging up decorations for a party in the backyard. It wasn't a big one or anything, but would host some of Sadie's college and hero friends. It also wasn't a particularly "exciting" one; instead of typical adult party games there was chess and trivia, and instead of alcohol there was sparkling apple cider and chocolate milk. In other words, it was exactly what Sadie wanted. 

But she wasn't around to help because she was busy baking her own birthday cake instead! While this may sound like a terrible time, she greatly enjoyed baking, and also the control it gave her over the outcome. And, if it turned out bad, no one could be upset because it was her birthday; who was going to get mad at her? But if someone else messed up the cake, they might feel bad (not that Sadie would be upset. And sometimes she made overly complex cakes, and didn't really feel comfortable asking a friend to do that for her, though none of them would've minded. But never fear, dear readers, she did have a helper. In a turn of the tables, Alexa (also known as Lady Alexandria) was the one assisting her… though it is worth noting that even in hero-work the two were closer to partners than a hero and sidekick. 

But anyway, the cake. 

Sadie had gone with a blackberry lime cake, with lime curd in the middle. 

Alexa was currently doing grunt work, stirring the egg yolks, sugar, butter, and lime juice and zest together over a double broiler. It was long and tedious and annoying and Sadie did not want to do it… so it was the perfect job for her assistant! Well, maybe it wasn't long, but you try standing over a double boiler constantly stirring with one hand and a thermometer in the other, waiting for your curd to reach the safe temperature! It may not actually take long, but it sure does feel like it, especially when you don't have super strength. Which luckily Alexa does, so, while it was still annoying, it wasn't terrible or anything. 

Sadie was whipping up some buttercream in her stand mixer, which was probably her favorite baking tool. She had accumulated many attachments for it over the years, and would hopefully get even more as presents this year! 

The cake was already baked and cooling on wire racks before it could be transferred to the fridge and later leveled, but that was the easy part anyhow. This was especially true since she had "bake even cake strips" (which are basically pieces of oven-safe fabric you soak in water to put around the outside of a cake pan), which helped ensure the outer part of the cake wouldn't cook before the middle, resulting in a partially dry cake. Dry cake made Sadie sad, so she was particularly happy when she received these strips one year on her birthday, especially since she hadn't even known they existed. If only more people knew about them…

Finally, the curd reached the proper temperature and thickness, so Sadie grabbed a glass bowl and poured it in before covering it with cling film, careful to press in down so it wouldn't form a film on top. She would use a metal bowl, but she knew from past recipe instructions that the metal taste would transfer to the curd if she did that (not even the whisk used to mix it could be metal), and she didn't really feel like having her cake taste like blood. 

And the blackberry lime buttercream was done too! 

"Hey Alexa, come taste this." Sadie said after Alexa placed the whisk she'd used in the dishwasher and turned off the stove. Alexa grabbed a spoon and took a small bite off the whisk attachment. 

"Wow Sadie, that's really good!" She praised her baking mentor. Sadie blushed, not dark enough that her skin could cover it up beyond a slight fluster. 

"Thanks, Alexa, but I really just followed the recipe." Alexa hummed lightly, clearly not agreeing that's all it was. "Actually I do think it needs a dash of vanilla extract." Sadie said, frowning as she took another taste. She always added vanilla to recipes, even if they didn't say to, because it tended to improve basically every flavor. 

Alexa's eyes widened, reaching for the bottle, but Sadie was too quick, already adding in two capfuls and starting the mixer back up before Alexa even fully processed her words. "Sadie." She scolded lightly. Sadie did this all the time, and Alexa had been baking cakes with her since their first year working together. "Do I need to put your vanilla under lock and key?" 

Sadie looked at her with absolute betrayal. "I bought this with my own money! And this is the really good stuff, dissolved in water instead of alcohol. It's expensive and if you steal it, I will report you to the agency." At this point Sadie was tightly clasping the bottle close to her chest, which wouldn't have stopped Alexa if she really wanted to take it, but did show how precious it was to Sadie. Alexa looked at her with amusement and slowly raised her hands in surrender. 

"Alright, I'll leave your vanilla be." 

Sadie eyed her suspiciously, choosing to tuck the glass bottle into her pocket for safekeeping. "I think the cakes are ready to be taken out of the pan." She said, checking the time. They'd been out for around an hour, so Sadie asked Alexa to carefully remove them from the pan. 

Many people thought that because she was so strong she didn't know how to control her strength and be gentle, but that really wasn't true. The hero had spent years learning how to control her power; it was ridiculous to think she couldn't be careful. 

So Alexa gently slammed them upside-down against the counter, the cakes sliding out easily since Sadie had used parchment paper and oil. The motion gave Alexa a weird sense of deja-vu, since she'd done something similar earlier today to get the air bubbles out of the cake batter… though that was done right side up. 

Alexa then placed the first cake onto a cling wrapped plate (so it wouldn't stick), put a layer of cling wrap, and then put the 2nd layer on. This step was repeated with a 3rd cake (as it was 3 layers) and the whole stack was wrapped up and stuck in the fridge. 

"Hey, can you grab the piping bags from the drawer?” Sadie asked as she scraped the sides of the icing bowl down with a spatula. “I think I want to pre-fill them."  

“Yeah sure.” Alexa grabbed some couplers (which held icing tips onto icing bags) as well. Sadie set to work assembling some icing bags for later, and Alexa began to clean up, putting dirty dishes into the dishwasher and cleaning up little messes. The two worked well together, having done this and other kinds of work for years now, so it was easy to find a rhythm. 

The recipe normally would've taken Sadie 4 hours on her own, but with Alexa's help it only took two, plus a bit of extra time to decorate the cake. This part went by fast, as Sadie just did a simple "palette knife" design, where you make the icing look like paint that was spread with a palette knife. This type of decorating had quickly become a favorite of Sadie's; it was easy but still looked artistic, which was a huge win in her book.

While the two had been waiting for the cake and curd to cool, they'd played some chess outside in the garden. Alexa was pretty neutral toward the game, but Sadie loved it (probably because she usually won), so she played it with her for her birthday. Alexa was also competitive, so losing so often was a bit annoying to her, but she loved Sadie and knew it was all in good fun, so she went through it a few times a year just to be nice. The bright smile Sadie made every time she tricked Alexa or checkmated her king was worth the small blows to her ego. This little break on their feet was nice, and probably had helped the previously mentioned decorating and assembly go by so quick. 

—

The party was plenty fun, everyone playing card games that Sadie well… sometimes won. Which did annoy her, but she was so was very mature about it and definitely didn't have to stop herself from screaming when she lost at Uno for the 4th time in a row. Thankfully, her suffering was interrupted when the cake was finally brought out! 

The group had slowly eaten dinner throughout the games, which was just typical barbecue food (hamburgers & hot dogs along with their vegan alternatives), so they weren't violating the household rule of "No dessert before dinner!", not that the Delmiras always complied with that. 

Everyone sang happy birthday, which was a bit awkward, Sadie made her wish (which she can't tell you but we can) for Alexa and Shadows to get together already, and everyone ate cake and had a good time. 

In short, Sadie had a perfect birthday, and lovely presents (though a few had to be given outside the party since they were slightly hero related and her civilian friends didn't know about that), and it was very nice. No stupid villains, no annoying Hirra, no oblivious Shadows and Alexandria, just Sadie and her friends and family. 

—

"Well, that's not totally true," Sadie said, staring at the last words on the screen. I turn away from the in-studio movie screen, a look of confusion on my face.

"What do you mean? These are real clips of your life. Were they doctored? Sam, did you –"

Sadie cuts me off "No, no, no. That was all real which is… kind of creepy. But the concluding ‘no stupid Hirra' wasn't exactly true." 

"Wait, what? She interrupted your special day?! And here I was starting to like her…" I say, shaking my head. 

"Well, she wasn't bad or anything. She gave me a little gift the next time I saw her." Sadie said with a slight smile. 

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we were battling and Mr. Shadows and Alexa were focused on each other per usual, so Hirra gave me an embarrassing photo of Kim and told me happy birthday. I asked her why and she said it was as much a present to me as it was her." Sadie said with a light laugh. 

I blinked in surprise. Sam hadn't informed me of this. Huh, we must've come up with that some other time and I forgot about it. Good thing there's 3 of us! "Well, that's a very sweet story. Thank you for taking the time to be with us, Sadie. Have a nice rest of your sleep." I gesture to the crew, who cut the cameras and zap Sadie's memories away, and herself back to Aiga to dream. 

And that's a wrap on our President Sadie Birthday Special. Have a nice rest of your whatever time it is, folks! 

[hiccanna-tidbits]

@jackunzel-time

Jackunzel Month Bonus Week Day 3 - Sugar Cookies

***

“Jack!”

Rapunzel frowns at the plastic container as she takes it out of the refrigerator, noting it’s about half as full as the last time she saw it.

“What’s up, Zellie?” Her boyfriend’s voice from the other room is muffled.

“Have you been snacking on the cookie dough again?”

Footfalls on linoleum, and she looks up to see an adorable mop of white hair and a pair of innocent blue eyes right above a tongue absolutely going to town on a spoon full of cookie dough. Jack’s lips and chin are already coated in the stuff, red and green sprinkles scattered across his pale skin like freckles.

“No,” he says defiantly, giving the spoon another lick.

“Jack.” She gives him her saddest pout. “That was supposed to be for our friends!”

“That’s what you said about the batch we baked yesterday, Punz. How many Christmas cookies do our friends need?”

“Oh. Right.” She blushes, suddenly embarrassed. “The ones from yesterday were for the party.”

He fixes her with a smug look, taking another long lick from the dough-covered spoon.

“Well, the cookies from today were supposed to be for us, then!” She crosses her arms and glares, not about to give in just yet. “I’ll have you know I got the decorations out and everything.”

“And we are making good use of them,” Jack says, downing another glob of dough. “Am I not included in ‘us?’”

Rapunzel glares harder--or tries to. It doesn’t seem to be very intimidating, if Jack starting to snicker is anything to go by.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about salmonella.” His voice is muffled by the unbaked confectionery treat he continues to consume with reckless abandon.

“No,” she huffs. “I know the chances of that are next to nothing. It’s--it’s the principle of the thing?”

Even as she says it, she knows it’s a weak argument. If she saved the last of the cookie dough for them, then there’s no real logical reason they shouldn’t eat it as is.

Jacks leans on the counter. “Well, I live life by the principle of ‘the world could explode at any moment, so why waste time following arbitrary rules?’ Might as well do whatever’s the most fun. Which is definitely eating this cookie dough straight out of the container and not going to all the trouble to bake it.”

She shakes her head, knowing this is a losing game.

“You are a pain, Jack Overland-Frost,” she says, although with no real conviction.

“Oh nooooo.” Jack’s eyes widen in mock horror. “Is North going to put me on the naughty list again? Is he gonna have to transfer me to The Naughty List: Extended Edition with Bonus Features?”

Despite her best efforts, Rapunzel laughs.

“Maybe he’ll give you twice as much coal,” she jokes. “And then it’ll get all over the carpet and make a huge mess. We can’t have that.”

“Can’t we?” He raises his eyebrows. “We could spread it everywhere and pretend our house is a haunted coal mine. Turn it into a big Halloween attraction next year and charge admissions. We’d make bank.”

She snickers. “All hail the Soot House! It’ll be the spookiest destination in town, I’m sure.”

He laughs along with her. “Honestly, at this point, I kind of want to get more coal.”

Jack grabs the top of the wooden mixing spoon, tilting it back slightly. Rapunzel’s eyes widen as she realizes how exactly the boy is planning on upping his naughtiness.

He lets go, and the spoon springs forward. The last glob of cookie dough flies across the room, set on an unbreakable trajectory toward Rapunzel.

No reason this has to be a setback.

Rapunzel leaps into the dough’s path and opens her mouth wide. The dough ball sails in, quickly disappearing down her throat.

“Impressive.” Jack gives her an approving nod, like he wasn’t expecting her to so easily foil his schemes of dastardly evil.

Without warning, she reaches into the cookie dough container and scoops out a dollop, hurling it right at the cocky boy still feasting on his stolen spoon. His eyes widen in fear right before the glob smacks him in the nose, slowly oozing off like a melting snowball.

Rapunzel breaks into giggles. “Two can play at this game, you know.”

He glances down at his now-mostly-empty spoon, and seems to compare it to her full container of dough. Rapunzel can tell he doesn’t like his chances.

“All right.” He lifts his hands up. “I surrender.”

She grins wickedly, licking a chunk of cookie dough off her finger.

“See?” Jack points at her, still looking smug despite his loss. “You know I’m right! You know it tastes better before you bake it!”

“Hmmm. Maybe.”

Rapunzel glances around bashfully, not meeting his eyes as she sneaks another dollop of cookie dough.

“So now that we’re in agreement...” Jack’s eyes flick toward the living room. “What do you say we turn on the fire, make some hot cocoa, and put on the absolute worst Christmas rom-com known to man while we finish that off?”

She beams. “You’ve got a deal.”

OOP I just mean to write a little drabble thing and it kinda. Got away from me ^^; Still not as novel-length and out-of-control as it COULD have gotten, so. Bravo to me for some restraint??? Not anything truly of note, but restraint nonetheless XD

ANYWAYS this prompt was very fun to make and made me highkey hungry for sugar cookies ^^; I really gotta start baking Christmas cookies with my family again. All I ever do is write about my blorbos doing Fun Seasonal Activities instead of doing any of them myself XD

Also Jack is absolutely correct, if you haven’t eaten a vast bucket of straight unbaked cookie dough then are you really living life??? Are you just existing without passion? Without zest? I think you are. Salmonella be damned, I survived food poisoning once and I can do it again!

Used Brunette Punzel for the moodboard once again because she really does deserve more love!!! And like. Come on now. When I see a pic of an adorable brown-haired aesthetic girl with hair that I think is the absolute perfect length for brunette!Rapunzel, what am I supposed to do??? Not snap it up and use it for a Jackunzel moodboard??? An absolute crime. This particular pic didn’t make it onto the Sweater Weather moodboard, so I’m happy I was able to work it into the Cozy Cookie-Making Day moodboard <3 <3 <3 Also got to work in a couple cookie aesthetic pics I’ve had saved for like 2 years, so a very satisfying accumulation of leftovers overall :D

Jack also very definitely has SOME naughty list-related merchandise and I will swear to that. North pretends not to approve, but he actually finds it pretty amusing how self-aware Jack is of his Little Shit tendencies.

Anyways, Jack and Rapunzel WOULD eat raw cookie dough, drink hot chocolate, and do mocking full-length commentaries of bad Christmas movies and you cannot change my mind.

Pic credits available upon request!

[urbuddynova]

Hi!! I found your art of Red/Dunce and I absolutely love the style, but you mentioned that you made up a whole backstory for the game, and I'm interested!! Is there any chance u can elaborate on the origin story you thought of for Rainbow Friends?/genq

Yeah sure!

i guess here goes my rant XD

Pretty much in my little version that Oswald and Trenton made a successful kids tv show. The characters were vibrant and had good morals at the end of each episode. The personality of the characters are kinda like this:

Blue: the leader (obviously-) , he is seen as that king like character who’s loyal, brave and always thinks things through before jumping to action. He’s pretty energetic and enthusiastic but has a running gag where at the start of the episodes he’s sleeping on his thrown and the kids have to wake him up by shouting his name.

green: green is the party goer, the one that plans and puts others before himself. He has impeccable eyesight and is able to see every detail imaginable to make sure a party goes PERFECTLY. Green is also blues best friend, always helping when the igns go wrong

orange: Orange is a pretty smart guy and is a train conductor on the railways. He’s quite the goofball and likes to talk a lot. He LOVES cake, a running gag for him is him chasing a piece of cake as the end credit of the episode, when the rainbow friends need i ride they can count on the fastest train conductor in the show!

purple: purple is a small little guy that has a fear of water and tight spaces. They’re quite the pipsqeauk but just like orange is a huge chatterbox and loves to help green witch parties. Whatever it is that’s exciting they’re down to help! As long as it doesn’t end up with them stuck in a high area or on a boat in the river.

yellow: yellows is an eccentric bird that is known to be the best flyer in all the show! No matter the height he can reach for the sky! Quite a social one like the others but also loves the spot light! Tight spaces? He can fly through! Closed areas? He’s great at gliding! The wind is his direction and the sky is the limit!

cyan: a sweet bubbly Dino! With an obsession with fun facts about bugs! If there’s a problem with any small critter she will know what to do! But she gets distracted easily and is abit of an air head so watch out! She will fight with you if you say spiders are a bug, (they are arachnids!!!). Overall is kind and curious.

Dunce: oh sweet dunce. An dumb little lookie that grew legs, doesn’t even know what to do with them! If you need help with math homework he’s the last person you wanna ask. Doesn’t speak but is expressive through chirps and hand gestures. Is a pro at baking sweets and will make you a cake on your birthday. Don’t worry the kitchen is the only thing he can’t mess up! He did blow it up once though-

all these characters with these personalities. Yet once they were recreate in real life their personalities and even physical traits were distorted. That’s what happens when you try to make life out of nothing…you get flaws. There are only snippets of their original personality.

Blue cannot think straight and has the brain power of a toddler. He will put anything in his mouth especially if he’s hungry. Don’t have food near him he will steal it. The only thing that was correct was his love to sleep. Especially in a sitting position.

Green came out completely blind. Couldn’t make a single sound except squeaks and party noises.Still surprisingly good friends with blue and silently follows him around when he hears his footsteps.

Orange…he’s just a rabid dog…he can’t drive he can’t speak the only thing he does is eat, run and sleep….he’s a strange thing. His live for cake is still there however.

purple. Wow…not only did they turn out HUGE. But they seemed to love dark murky areas where as their tv show counterpart despised it. They hate to socialise and stay in the vents. Do not put your feet near. No matter what you are they will grab you.

Yellow. Had it bad. They were created flightless. He needs a propeller on his back to help him fly. He’s not one to like the spotlight either and has become quite shy and secluded. He still has a live for flying…he just can’t do it indoors or as high as his tv show counterpart could.

Cyan. Aggressive, always alert. Still likes bugs but once only gazes at it. she hears something she will lock onto it. A true predator. Yet she’s still curious.

The scientist (or red). The one thing he keep was his love for baking. Despite not doing as often when he does he goes all out. He usually just makes the cake for the party room where the players go on the final night.

And if you wanted to know “dunce” was the one that tried to create blue and Oswald and Trenton mysteriously disappeared one day. It’s not known why they left but Mabye it was red to blame. They were at first happy to see him be so Intelligent and help them try and bring the friends to life. But as more of the rainbow friends were created and incidents happened….like blues….first and LAST friend incident…..They started to get upset and more agitated as to why he couldn’t have just been a dumb lookie. Red wanted to do something amazing and didn’t want them to slow him down from wanting be something more that just the “dunce”. He hates the name and when someone calls him that he seems upset. At least he still has his lookie family.

anyways here’s my little beliefs on how the characters were like. It’s abit silly since it’s late and I am not the best at putting words together to make a coherent sentence XD

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

✨ EXCERPT REVEAL ✨

Here's a first look at BARRETT by Laramie Briscoe

Barrett is the 4th book in the Broken Falls series by Laramie Briscoe

Available everywhere on July 26th!

Amazon ➜ https://amzn.to/4bwh21v

Laramie’s Website ➜ https://bit.ly/4bBeCOr

Kobo ➜ https://bit.ly/3yh5pMV

BN ➜ https://bit.ly/4bgSIjW

Apple ➜ https://apple.co/4dDg4lm

Google ➜ https://bit.ly/3yljsBi

First look at Barrett!

It's been a long day, and Gabby still hasn't texted me back. My common sense tells me I should take that for what it's worth, but the part that really cares about Gabby wants to make sure she's okay? It's worried as f*ck, and I need to know. I debate on whether I want to stop when I drive by and see her car still parked in the back of Get Baked. There's a real chance that she doesn't want to see me, there's an even bigger chance that I just need to make sure she's okay. I want to set eyes on her.

Parking next to her, I get out and walk to the back door. I knock twice, waiting for her.

"Who is it?"

"It's Barrett. I just wanna make sure you're alright. I'll leave if you want me to after I see how you're doing." I hurry those words in a rush.

The sound of her unlocking the door makes me smile. With a sigh, she opens it, staring at me. "As you can see I'm okay. It's going to take more than what happened to bring me down. I might be a little bruised and broken, but I'll make it through."

"I have no doubt that you will, Gabs. I just want to make sure you're good. You never texted me back."

She sticks out a hip, throwing me a little bit of attitude, which I love. "I didn't know I was required to text you back, Barrett. We broke up, remember? I wasn't sure that after the way we left each other, either of us would want to hear from the other."

That's a fair assumption. "I care about you, I always have. I can't turn that off because we've had some sh*t happen between us. I lost years off of my life when I saw that someone had broken into your shop, Gabby."

"I know..."

"No you don't. You'll never know the fear." I interrupt her. "I know I don't have the right to be here, because I f*cked up what we were building."

She interrupts me. "No, we both f*cked that up, Barrett. It wasn't just you. That was a team effort." She exhales loudly. "Let's start over."

I inhale, close my eyes, and then let the breath out slowly. "Hey girl, hey."

She laughs, which is what I hoped she would. It lights up those eyes of hers and my stomach does a flip. "Hey."

"So, I texted you earlier, you might not have gotten it, or you were busy. But I wanted to make sure you're okay. There's been some crazy sh*t happening in the neighborhood lately." I grip the door facing to keep from reaching out and cupping her hip in my hand.

Her head dips down, before coming back up. "I did get your text, but I was busy, and then when I thought about responding, I was tired. I'm fine. The window will be replaced next week, and until then I've posted on social media, and Kara mentioned it in her live stream today.  I'm not hurting for customers, people have been extremely supportive, and I'm sorry I didn't respond to you."

"It's okay. I'll leave now that I know you're not hurt. I gotta take a shower anyway." I'm dirty, and dusty, and just want to get all of that off. I love my job, but I'll never be the type of guy who can get off work and then head out immediately afterward. All part of living that blue collar life.

"Barrett, do you wanna come in and eat something? You came all the way over here, when I know more than anything after work, you want to go home." She pushes a piece of dark hair behind her ear. "You were worried about me, and I appreciate it. Let me at least feed you."

Little does she know I want way more than for her to feed me, but right now I'll take whatever she's offering. Whatever it takes to get me the second chance I've wanted for months, I'm going to do. "I'd appreciate it, you don't have to."

"I know, and the one thing you should know about me is I don't do things I don't want to do."

I grin, tilting my head back. "That's the damn truth. What are you feeding me?"

She rolls her eyes. "I have leftover pot roast that I'm making quesadilla's out of."

It's one of my f*cking favorite meals. I groan, rocking back on my heels. "It's like you knew I'd be here."

"Oh God c'mon in you little sh*t."

And with those whispered words, I know that for tonight we'll be okay.

Tropes Included

·  small town

·  blue collar

·  second chance

·  reverse age gap

·  golden retriever hero

Barrett is book three in The Broken Falls Series: a series of interconnected standalones following a group of friends who have become family in small-town West Virginia, and the women who bring them to their knees. You do not have to read them in order, but each book builds upon the relationships of the last.

[brainyxbat]

Chapter 5: Venus and Usopp Meet! A Beautiful Connection Begins

(chapter 50)

"The execution platform! The execution platform!" Luffy rambled through his sprint. "I wanna see the view the King of the Pirates saw before he died! I wanna see it now!" But he then skidded to a stop, and scaled the area. "But... which way is the execution platform?"

'The execution platform! The execution platform!' Venus rambled as well, only in her mind, and with frantic worry. 'Gotta find him first! Which way is it again?!'

Elsewhere, Zoro sat on a concrete staircase, admiring his new weapon from the local sword shop. "A cursed sword, huh..." He remarked, "Interesting."

Suddenly, Luffy popped up behind the sword, nearly stopping his heart. "Oh! That's a cool sword you have!"

"Damn! Don't scare me like that!" Zoro scolded.

"What're you doing here, Zoro?"

"No, what're you doing here?"

"Me?" Luffy scratched under his nose. "I'm lost," He grinned.

"Why're you acting cocky about that?!"

"Luffy!" They both turned to see Venus frantically running up the stairs.

"Hey, Venus!" He beamed, as she stopped to catch her breath.

"I... I've been looking all over for- Oh," She stopped when she saw he wasn't alone. A toned man in a white t-shirt, green belt, and black pants and shoes, with hair the same shade of green as hers, sat silently before her. "Who's your friend?"

"Roronoa Zoro," The swordsman introduced himself, looking her over. She seemed barely taller than five feet, and with her pigtails and short bangs, she seemed a little child-like.

"Tempeste G. Venus," She followed suit, "Nice hair. You the first mate or something?"

"He is!" Luffy replied. "And an awesome swordsman!"

"With three swords, that's well-expected," She smirked.

"And Zoro, she's a witch!"

"She's a what?"

"A witch! She does super cool magic!"

"Luffy, I doubt she really can-" Zoro's skepticism was cut off when the Wado Ichimonji started slowly inching out of the carrier on its own. He turned to the girl, and she was smirking in his direction, moving her hand to guide the sword.

She snickered as he urgently thrusted it back in, ending the spell. "That convince you? I ate the Witch-Witch Fruit."

"Look shortie, do whatever voodoo you want, but leave me out of it."

She giggled in her hand. "Deal."

"Hey, tell me. How do I get to the execution platform?" Luffy asked Zoro.

"How should I know?"

"Hey! There he is!"

"It's him! That bastard!" The three looked down at the commotion below.

A tall, looming man with a mustache, and long sideburns in a cloak and wide-brim hat stopped his trek down the street when he was surrounded by five street thugs, four pointing guns, and one gripping a large, thick chain. "Yeah, this isn't going to end well for those guys," Venus commented.

"What's that?" Luffy wondered aloud.

"Daddy the Parent," She replied simply.

"You bastard! How dare you sell our buddies to the Marines?!" The man in a green shirt glared. "You're gonna pay big-time!"

All the men prepared their weapons. "Die!"

They watched as four gunshots went off. Luffy and Zoro expected the man in the middle to collapse, but to their shock, all but one of his ambushers were the ones to fall, while he was still standing, completely unharmed. The last one was now shaking with fear, landing on his backside when his feet gave out on him. Daddy calmly walked over, pulled the cigarette out of the petrified man's vest, and bent it with his thumb like a drinking straw. "Run on home, and have your mama bake you a cake, kiddo." He tossed the cigarette back at him, and the man finally ran off with a yelp of terror.

Luffy was now pumping his fists with ecstasy. "That old guy's cool!" He gushed.

"I've heard of him before," Zoro remarked.

"He's the best sharpshooter in the East Blue," Venus said, "Also got a daughter, who's kind of a brat," She rolled her eye.

"Hey, didn't you need to grab more magic stuff?" Luffy reminded her.

After a beat, her eye widened; he was right, she did mention that before they left. "Oh yeah! I'd better do that! Mr. Rauru must be worried by now! See you later, Luffy! Nice meeting you, Zoro!"

"You too, short stack," Zoro called out back to her, then leaned against the stairs. "Strange girl."

"She's awesome! I want her to join our crew!"

"Have you asked her?"

"Yeah, but she said no."

"Well, we can't force her to join if she doesn't want to. It's her decision."

~

"You're lucky this is the only store that sells this stuff, you bastard, or you'd be out of business by now!"

"What was that?! Say that to my face, you little bitch!"

Exiting the store, she frantically ran with the full bag to get back home before lunch. In her haste, as she passed the Junk Shop, she wasn't watching where she was going.

That haste, little did she know, was going to change her life forever.

"I bought a lot! A real lot!" Usopp rambled with excitement to himself. Citizens stared in shock, as he carried a giant, full, green backpack like it was carrying feathers. Though due to his eyes being locked on the sidewalk, he didn't see what, or who, was coming up. "Now my preparations to be a brave warrior of the sea are complete! All I'm forgetting now is... oh, yeah! I forgot the most important thing!"

He finally looked up, and for a split second, saw a blur of light green and dark purple, before the figure crashed right into him, knocking them both down on the concrete. Both of their bags' contents spilled out, quickly getting mixed together, as they laid on the sidewalk.

Venus sat up, her hood falling over her head, and panted to catch her breath from the sudden collision. She really should've watched where she was going. She turned over, and noticed the other victim of the incident still on the ground; she quickly crawled over, and helped him sit up. "Sorry about that. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm..." Usopp replied sheepishly, but was silenced when he saw who was helping him, briefly locking eyes with her; she looked intimidating with the cloak she wore. But when she pulled the hood down, he had a better look at her face, before she started gathering her stuff. She was... kinda cute. Wait, what? "Uh, m-my fault," He stammered, following her lead.

"No, no, it was mine; I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Me neither."

"Well um, y-yeah," She giggled sheepishly, "I guess we both take responsibility."

"Fair." He helped her with the stuff she dropped alongside picking his own up. He became curious about a burlap drawstring bag filled with what felt like soft balls. "What's in here?"

"Eyes of toads," She replied casually, as if they were grapes.

"EEE!" He yelped, dropping the bag in shock.

She couldn't help but laugh, as she put it in with her stuff. "Worry about your own stuff; I got mine," She assured, "Thanks, though."

He observed her stuff not picked up yet, shaking his head. "Toad eyes, rat tails; what are you, a witch?"

"I am," She nodded, to his surprise, "I found and ate the Witch-Witch Fruit a few years ago. Tempeste G. Venus."

He grinned with confidence, puffing his chest under his brown overalls. "Captain Usopp of the Straw Hat crew."

"I thought Luffy was the captain," Venus smirked.

"Well- wait, you've met him?"

"Just earlier today, actually. Plus the swordsman Zoro." They both gathered the rest of their items, and stood on their feet.

"Got everything?" He asked her.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yep. Though there was something I was looking for, before we..."

"Met?" She finished.

"Yeah," He chuckled, "Before we met. I can't remember what it- oh, goggles!" He exclaimed. "That was it!"

"Goggles?"

"Yeah! A top-class sniper needs to have top-class goggles! Investing every last bit of money to get the best goggles around is the spirit of a top-class sniper!"

"Hmm... I might've seen some at the Junk Shop last time I was there," Venus recalled, "Let's have a look, shall we?"

"Yes, thank you!" Usopp straightened up, hauled the large bag on his back, and followed her down the walkway.

"So you're the sniper, huh?"

"Sure am! The best of the East Blue!"

"Ah," She nodded to humor him. 'Interesting crew,' she thought.

-

"How about those?" In the Junk Shop, where he left his bag outside, he tried out a pair of overhead goggles with blue flip-up sun shades. "Those top-class enough for ya, Mr. Top-Class Sniper?" Venus smirked jokingly, ignoring the sneer from the shop owner burning holes in her skull.

Overjoyed, Usopp played with the shades, then posed with his green slingshot. He grinned with excitement. "These ones! These goggles!" He decided. "It's gotta be these! I like 'em! Lady!"

"You got a good eye!" The shop owner praised. "Them's the latest North Blue model there!"

"I helped him pick those out, y'know," Venus pointed out when she was paid no mind to.

"Quiet, Missy! I got 'em from an import ship that leaves the Marines only once a year!" They both noticed Usopp feeling his pockets in a panic, Venus more concerned than the owner. "What's wrong? You got no money?" She glared. "I don't do business with people who don't got money! What's it gonna be?!"

"N-no, it's... oh! Right! Backpack..." Usopp was about to run inside when the young witch stopped him.

"Don't worry, I'll pick up-" Her kind offer was interrupted by a certain little blonde girl in a mint and white ruffled dress with ringlet curls.

"I'll take these goggles, please!" Usopp fell to the floor in despair.

"...the... tab," Venus finished uselessly.

"My! What a cute little girl!" The shop owner gushed. "Yes, yes! You're in luck! This is the only pair of these goggles in town!"

Venus facepalmed. "Are you kidding me?"

Now angry, Usopp pushed himself up from the floor. "Hold it right there! I was the first to-!"

He stopped when the little girl trotted up to him with a big, innocent grin. "Butt out... old man!"

Usopp collapsed back down in shock, as she left the store. "O... old man?"

Venus growled in anger, hands balled into fists. "That little brat! Those goggles are rightfully yours! Let's get 'em back!"

As the girl skipped happily along the streets, Usopp and Venus ran out of the store. "Stop!" Usopp shouted.

"Stop right there!" Venus shouted.

The girl stopped as told, so the two stood in front of her. "Listen! Let's set the record straight! I'm not an old man!" Venus facepalmed again. "Call me "mister"! Got it?"

"Huh?! What for?! You're an old man!"

"Dammit, you said it again!" Usopp ranted. "I'm 17 years old! Now gimme those goggles back! I found 'em first!"

"He has more use for them than you, brat," Venus sneered.

"Huh?!" Now angry, the girl stomped her foot, and prepared to fight them both. Usopp was now nervous, but Venus was unfazed. "You got a problem?! Huh?! Keep up yer damn complainin', and I'll call the Marines!"

"You need to watch your mouth," Venus glared back.

"M-Marines?" Usopp stammered.

"Yep!" The girl was suddenly back to being cheerful. "I'm friends with a Marine captain in this town! The old smoky man!"

"Liar."

'W-who is this girl?' Usopp wondered, then put on a tough facade. "So you don't know who I am, huh?! I'm Great Captain Usopp! I destroyed Arlong's fishman pirate group!"

"Arlong?" Venus' eye widened. She had seen his wanted poster in the bar, and he looked pretty tough.

"It was truly a battle to the death! Me, surrounded by 200, no, 300 fishmen! All alone, I punched, threw, stomped, kicked, and tore them all up!" The girl smiled evilly through his story, as Venus listened intently. "Thanks to that, I now have a 30 million Berry bounty on my head!"

"I see," The girl gained their attention, "30 million..."

"Yep! That's right!"

"Papa!"

"Papa?! Why am I your papa?!"

"Call me mama, and I'll punt you into the ocean," Venus threatened.

But the girl ran behind them to a cloaked figure, goggles in tow. Venus' eye widened when she recognized him; Daddy the Parent. Crap. "Here's a present for you, Papa!" The girl handed the goggles to him. "Happy birthday!"

"Oh, Carol..." He was stunned, as he failed to keep his emotions in check, "What a nice, angelic girl you are! I love you, Carol-chan!"

"Papa! I love you, papa!"

Venus and Usopp watched in shock. 'W-what's with this family?' Usopp thought.

'If she's angelic, then I'm queen of the damn town,' Venus snarked in her mind.

They were both tense when Carol glared at them. "But guess what? That old man and old woman there are trying to swipe your present!"

"Old woman?!" Venus shouted with pointy-teethed rage. "I'm 21!"

"I, I thought you were a teenager," Usopp stammered.

"I get that a lot. But do not mess with him!" She urged.

"Now, now! You mustn't say "swipe"!" Daddy scolded her, still keeping the sweet tone of voice. "It's not good manners, you know." In a split second, his demeanor immediately turned intimidating towards them. "Are you the ones who're bullying my adorable little Carol?"

"B-b-bullying...?" Usopp stuttered.

"She's lying!" Venus glared.

"That's not all!"

"Huh?" She whispered in his ear, too quiet for Usopp and Venus to know. They assumed it was bad. Daddy looked over with shock; most likely bad. "You have a bounty of 30 million Berries, I hear?" Usopp screamed in terror, as Venus stayed quiet. "Let's see here..." He took some papers out of his cloak.

"Are those new wanted posters?" Carol asked.

"Yeah, I got 'em from the outpost just now. 600,000... 1,300,000... 700,000," He counted off, then stopped on one, "30 million... Straw Hat Luffy? A starting bounty at this amount..." Usopp started to back away, as Venus watched. "Hold it, boy."

He stopped dead in his tracks, almost falling over. "Y-y-yes?! No, you see, sir! I'm obviously not the person on that poster! I was just lying!" He rambled. "My funny plan to trick people was a great success! Ha ha! Well, bye!" He tried to walk away, briefly grabbing Venus' wrist so she would follow.

Daddy pointed to behind Luffy in the picture. Sure enough, the back of Usopp's head was right there. "That's you, isn't it?"

"T-t-that's right! It sure is! That's me, all right!"

"I thought I'd seen you somewhere," Venus remarked.

"But I'll tell you this! Just you try and lay a hand on me! My captain Luffy won't sit by quietly! He's an evil, cold-blooded, devilish man!"

'Not from what I've seen,' Venus thought, but kept it to herself.

"No one's ever defied him, and lived to tell about it!" He sneered at Daddy testily. "You got a kid, right? You should really value your life," He whispered.

"I see. That sounds bad. Yes, given that this Luffy fellow is worth 30 million Berries, he's clearly no ordinary man."

"Got that right," Venus muttered.

"Papa!" Carol protested. "You're obviously way stronger, Papa! You're the strongest guy in the world!"

"Carol, it's all right. All that matters is that I make enough money to live happily with you. You're far more important to me than being the world's greatest!"

"Papa..."

Usopp watched the exchange in awe. 'The guy's wimping out after I said all that!' He grinned deviously. 'Alright! In that case...!' "Well?! Now do you see how terrifying I am?! Take my advice! Just hand those goggles over to me!"

Venus looked up at him with skepticism. "Let's just quit while we're ahead, shall we? You don't want to mess with this guy."

"No, I saw them first! They're rightfully mine! You said so yourself!"

"Huh?!" Carol glared.

"Don't worry! I'll pay for 'em!" He assured. "So just give 'em here!"

"Alright, you've made your point, let's go," Venus urged through clenched teeth.

"Why're you saying that right after he's just about to let you go-?!" Carol demanded, but Daddy stopped her. "Papa?"

"Then let's do this," His eyes narrowed, "I assume you have no problem with us settling this in a fair fight?"

"Fight?"

"Depends on the fight," Venus raised an eyebrow under her bangs.

"Here!"

Usopp was startled when Daddy tossed him a pistol, and Venus briefly ducked down to avoid any accidental shots. "Fight?" He nervously held it up. "Y-you're not talking about a duel, right?"

"If you win, the goggles are yours."

The pair was shocked when he whipped away his cloak, revealing lots of pistols. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6... 30 pistols?!" He exclaimed. "D-don't tell me you're... Daddy the Parent?!"

"The very same."

"Tried to warn you," She mumbled.

[imaginedreamwrite]

One of the guards flirting with Lloyd’s new girl because Lloyd is in a meeting and she wandered to the kitchen too shy to tell her husband she wants his attention… let your brain create magic 💕

Despite his assurance that you, and only you, could interrupt his meetings, you stayed away. Maybe it was your anxiousness at being at the centre of attention as you entered the room, maybe it was fear that he would make you sit on his lap after stripping you of your panties. Whatever it was, bashfulness at starting to grow innately fond of your older and inarguably powerful husband, you stayed away.

Instead, you found yourself in the kitchen rifling around through the pantry and the storage as you worked to compile a list of ingredients to bake. It was a way for you to waste time, a kind of stress reliever that had also made you reminiscent of your dad. You were happy to distract yourself while Lloyd was busy, happy to have your hands doing something.

“Lloyd really made you a domesticated woman, didn’t he?” You raised your head and eyed the newbie that entered the kitchen, his hands shoved into his pockets as he slowly stalked toward you.

“Excuse me?” You were taken back by his bold and accusatory statement. You’d gotten used to the other men who were milling around and their prickly personalities, some of them had even been considered friends, but this man was new.

“I mean I get it, a fuckable woman like you-“

“Fuckable?” You grit your teeth and looked past the henchman Lloyd had working for him, to the slow trickle of men coming out of the meeting room.

“I mean do you let all the new men have a taste?” He was grinning, moving toward you while you were becoming trapped against the cupboards. “You look like you got a real sweet cream-“

“You need to leave.” You side-eyed the kitchen cupboards, listened for the sounds of footsteps coming toward the kitchen though it was little hope to you as you were being blocked in.

“You look like every inch of you is sweet. Are you going to let me find out?” His hand reached out toward you, fingers grazing the front of your dress.

“Pumpkin.” You jumped when Lloyd spoke, your elbow slamming against the marble counter and a hiss falling from your lips as he rounded the counter. “You were looking for me?”

“Lloyd…I didn’t do anything…I didn’t-“ he silenced you with his finger pressed against your lips, his other hand slipping to the small of your back.

“I know darling, I know.” He looked down at you and replaced his finger with his mouth, kissing you silent again. “We have a dinner to go to.”

“Lloyd I swear-“

“I know, pumpkin.” He had pulled away from you and turned toward the man who had been bugging you. “You didn’t do anything wrong, but he did.”

“Lloyd please-“

“Quiet, baby.” He hushed you, looking over his shoulder and smiling briefly. “We’re gonna go after I deal with this. Go change, wear the blue dress that I love. I have a gift for you.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Not at you. Now go.” He let you slip past him, smacking your ass playfully as you moved, and only when you were gone did he finally grab the prick.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

the thing about life was that a flame could be so easily blown out, so people fought like hell to keep it alive. the tip of the candle could easily be cupped for protection, gentle breath given to let the flame flutter back to life. (is that what she did? when she pounded his chest again and again, her magic stronger than any human could be? when she pressed her lips to his and breathed the very essence of life back into his body?) what people often forgot was that you could simply relight the candle.

bernard hadn't thought about darla in years. people on online forums, ones he'll never tell tim how often he visited, spoke of their experiences with metas and myths and anyone in between. he knew what happened to people accosted by magic, knew of chains trapping them with their own terror, their minds turning against themselves as their nightmares came to life.

bernard, on the other hand, could say that he wasn't all that haunted by darla. she'd lifted his car off the ground in a display of power, told bernard she was laura fell now, no matter the fact that she looked and walked and talked like darla aquista, then threatened his life on behalf of her seemingly never-ending obsession with tim motherfucking drake. seemingly, because when bernard had brought up old times they used to spend with darla over lunch, casual as you please, tim had grinned a little before dismissing his fears. darla was training with some sort of enchantress to try and be good, growing more powerful by the day.

bernard wondered, for a moment, if all of his friends could make the earth quake with a press of their fingertips. if all of his friends could bend those figures of myth and meta and magic with only their will. if he'd spent his life in the company of gods in everything but name, right down to the perfect muscles pulling under skin and battle-worn glimmer in eyes too old to be on a faces so young. (bernard wondered, for a moment, if there was any way he could join them. if the madness in darla's eyes as she demanded tim's whereabouts and the screams of terror on his boyfriend's lips as he woke up with a knife in his hand were worth it.)

bernard knew there was nothing he could have done for darla. probably not now but definitely not back then. he had no power over life and death, he couldn't have saved darla from the bullet wound that cost her nearly everything had he even attempted to try. sometimes, darla shifted in his memories, morphed into someone with the same dark hair and same blue eyes, but with broader shoulders and a kinder smile.

there was the fear that one day, something would take tim down, a dark shadow grappling with his boyfriend's shining, golden soul before snuffing it out as surely as a candle. then there was the fear that one day, something would bring tim back, clawed fingers opening his boyfriend's eyes and twisting that golden soul into something dripping and jagged, as poisonously yellow as laura fell.

(bernard learned of what happened to jason todd on accident, a couple years after the cult of dionysus. there were some horrors he could force himself to speak aloud, some fates that he couldn't stomach.)

(if tim was surprised at the way bernard's fingernails dug into his back as he held the vigilante close, at the way bernard took advantage of the inches he'd lost to tim's late growth spurt to curl himself completely into his boyfriend's arms, then tim never showed a whisper of it.)

the quickest way to avoid all of that, bernard thought, was to just make sure tim didn't die in the first place.

"hey," tim said, bringing his hand up to flick bernard on the forehead. "only shit nurses get distracted when they're treating their patient."

"only shit patients have such abysmal bedside manner."

"oooh, abysmal," tim waggled his eyebrows. "that word-of-the-day calendar is really coming in handy, huh?"

bernard sniffed. "i'll have you know that i am a well-read intellectual. fuckin' sherlock at this point."

in the movies, people with wounds like the glaring one on tim's shoulder sagged into the wall, made tearful confessions through a mouth full of blood, shuddered in pain at the slightest touch. tim's fingers hurt where he hit bernard's forehead, he didn't lose his smart mouth for anything, and was tapping his foot in impatience before bernard propped it up on the sofa.

"you're fucking sherlock? that's such a sweet pet name, you should use it more often," tim teased.

"don't get a big head, you're not that good."

bernard opened the first aid kit, unusually large and unusually used. his fingers found the small pipe bottle of water and the gauze. he tore a small piece off before wiping off the rest of the dried blood as gently has he could.

"you know," tim sounded almost contemplative, musing. completely disregarding what should have been a throbbing pain. completely trusting bernard to take care of him. "ra's al ghul called me detective once."

bernard's fingers closed around the saline solution with more ease than what was comfortable, but he had plenty of practice pushing those thoughts aside.

"i have no clue who that is," he said, feeling tim tense only the barest bit when he poured the solution over the wound. it had to have stung something fierce. bernard had seen grown men whimper at the sensation. tim sighed and tipped his head back instead.

"no one important," tim chuckled. "but i do kinda wish damian was here to hear that."

antibiotics next, and if tim felt the urge to shy away from bernard's fingers as he brushed the wound with ointment, bernard couldn't tell; he suppressed it as impressively as always.

"come on, no sibling talk when you're shirtless and i'm on top of you." bernard joked. neither of them mentioned the blood staining tim's undershirt-slash-makeshift-bandage, the dried blood flakes all over tim's lap, the way bernard's thighs were clenching tim to the point of pain.

between one blink and the next, tim was all wrapped up, gauze in place and bandage taped on top. his boyfriend's lovestruck little smile gleamed up at him, one bernard recognized. a pinch of awe and a dash of trust and a sprinkle of comfort. mix them together and bake at 350, bernard thought a bit hysterically, and you get love for a man who's terrified at how fast he can use bandages.

still, tim took precedent. every night bernard spent washing his hands too roughly at the sink was another night his boyfriend was breathing on the bed in the other room. every night bernard opened that unusually large and unusually used first aid kit was another night tim's soul stayed whole and shining and untarnished by whatever creatures took people beyond the veil only to drag them back. every night bernard spend trying to rub the scent of copper and the spill of liquid poppy off his fingers was another night bernard used his bloodstained hands to keep tim's flame alive.

i mayyyyyyyy have gotten a little too excited every time i used the word "boyfriend."

tag list: @woahjaybird @anothertimdrakestan @birdy-bat-writes @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @buticaaba @comics-observer @newsical

[mindninjax]

Awake

Bakugo x Reader (duh)

wc: 1.7k

A/n: Had a full on mental breakdown yesterday. Tried to sleep tonight. Couldn’t. Wrote this instead. I listened to Rain Clouds by The Arcadian Wolf while writing it and it’s the song that’s referenced in this. I could link it but I’m lazy and depressed so I’m not gonna *dabs sadly*. Anyway here’s a comfort Fic I guess.?

Bakugo: Hey

(2:38AM): uh…hey?

Bakugo: You up?

(2:39 AM): clearly… clearly I’m up Bakugo. Why are you?

Bakugo: Can't sleep.

(2:39 AM): oh. I’m sorry.

Bakugo: Come outside?

(2:40 AM): like outside outside?

Bakugo: What other outside would there fucking be?

(2:41 AM): don’t curse at me stupid. I meant the balcony? Or are we going for a walk or something?

Bakugo: Fine. Nevermind. Forget I asked.

…

…

…

Bakugo: Balcony.

(2:52 AM): gimme five to put on pants.

Bakugo: Ok

(2:52 AM): folk or classical?

Bakugo: Ugh neither.

(2:53 AM): neither wasn’t an option shit head. Pick one.

Bakugo: Whatever you played last time. It helped me feel far away.

(2:54AM): Folk it is.

You put your phone down, the light dying and drawing you back into the darkness of your room. It’s quiet, you can hear him rustling on the other side of the wall, hear the balcony door slide open in his apartment next door and then shut.

You sit in bed for a moment, your heart the only thing thrumming in your ears as you take a deep breath. The city is quiet for the first time in a long time. There are no cars on the street, no sirens, just the sleepy lazy sound of the wind blowing and alley cats slinking through the garbage filled alleyways.

Then you get up, grab a pair of sweatpants and exchange the large holey t-shirt you’re wearing for a comfy but secure cami top. You search around your room for the little Bluetooth speaker and pause when your eyes fall on your acoustic guitar. You smile to yourself, it's perfect. You’ve been thinking about the song, the chords should be easy enough to grasp, and the words have been drifting around your head for days now.

You grab your phone to send him another quick text.

(2:58AM): Change of plans. The roof.

He doesn’t hesitate.

Bakugo: Ok.

He’s up on the roof of your city apartment building before you are, gazing out at the city lights , the moon in the sky blazing white shimmering light through his ash blond locks. He doesn’t turn around or acknowledge your presence when you land delicately on your toes and deactivate your air quirk. He’s wearing a red tank top, must’ve had to change out of the usual black one he wears to bed from all the sweat. His shoulders look broad and you can see the scars rippling down the muscles of his arms.

“Took you long enough, even with your floaty little air quirk,” he taunts, back still to you.

“And yet you’re still here,” you quip back, rolling your eyes and grabbing a crate to sit on. You pull another over and plop it down across from you the same time he turns to join you on the other crate. He has dark circles under his eyes, there’s still a gleam of sweat shimmering on his jaw and neck. He watches in anticipation as you ready the guitar on your leg and hook your arm over it, expert fingers finding the correct chords to strum a lovely tune.

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, gesturing to the guitar. You smile down at the guitar, concentrating on the correct note in your mind to start the song.

“It’s a nice night,” you murmur, eyes still focused on the instrument on your lap.

The muttered “It is now,” is swallowed by the sound of you strumming the strings softly diving into the tune as you rock back and forth. You close your eyes and hear Bakugo take a deep calming breath in and out before you start singing the lyrics.

I'm being frightened by the people

They look at me like I'm a scar upon their perfect skin

Perfect to only them

I'm being shadowed by my past

Reminding me of what I was and what I could become

My sins should stay where they belong

The wind is blowing gently and you can smell Bakugo’s sweet scent on the breeze. His crisp pine scented body wash mixes with his smoky sweet scent and it almost feels like the two of you are sitting around a campfire. Your voice drifts dreamily over the lyrics, enunciating the words and basking in the ease of the notes while putting your own lovely spin on it.

Listen to my voice

Close your frightened eyes

Hide behind my love for you

Fear's only a choice

One that we all must make some day

So know you're not alone in this

It’s clear and strong like a bell, punctuating every phrase with meaning that sits in Bakugo’s core and makes his heart do that weird thing where it’s fluttering but also extremely tranquil at the same time. When you end the song and finally open your eyes, he’s looking at you incredulously.

“How do you do that?”

“Hmm?” you say, placing the guitar against a huge wooden pallet gently.

“How do you fucking do that? Every time. It’s fucking creepy.”

“You mind elaborating, dummy? I’m not a mind reader.”

“Coulda fooled me,” he grunts, rolls his eyes and folds his arms, pouting.

You roll your eyes before chuckling and answer the question you already know he’s asking. “Somewhere out there. Someone has made a song for every feeling you’ve ever felt. So I won’t take credit for that.”

“But you show them to me.”

“Yes,” you say this as if it’s an obvious statement.

“And play them for me.”

“Yes.” Again, another obvious statement. Why wouldn’t you play them for him. It’s why the two of you are here. Right?

“And make them….ya know… sound good and shit,” he says, stuttering over the words as his cheeks and ears start to turn pink.

You smirk, “You can say I sound pretty. I won’t tell anyone you said it,” you tease.

“Tch. Idiot.”

There’s a beat of silence, you’re lost in your thoughts staring up at the starry sky before you look at him again.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You’re going to even if I say no.”

“Correct. Why do you text me when it happens? Why me?”

He shrugs his shoulders, looks away sheepishly and doesn’t meet your questioning gaze. "Don't know.”

You raise a suspicious eyebrow, “Yes you do”

He sighs, holds out a hand to gesture as if it’s obvious. Why would you be asking this? Especially after the many nights the two of you have done this. “Just feels right I guess. And after we talk I can go back to sleep just fine.”

“You realize what that is right?” You lean in closer to him, elbows on your thighs, chin in your hands. “That’s called trusting someone.”

“Sure I guess.”

Another beat of silence and then a long winded sigh from you, one that definitely says “I’m tired of this” and it makes a shiver of fear run up his spine.

“Look Bakugo. I’m not usually one that skates around feelings. And as much as I enjoy late night jam sessions or sneaking out and gazing at the moon with you until you feel ok enough to sleep, I…”

He holds his breath, “What?”

“Hmm…” you have a finger up to your chin in the universal thinking pose.

His heartbeat picks up and his fingers start to fiddle in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Fucking what? You just said you don’t skate around feelings so what?”

You frown at him, “Hold your flippin’ horses I’m thinkin’ first.”

“‘Flippin’ horses?’ You’re such a weirdo.”

And now you’re glaring. "Speaking of thinking before speaking. You should try it.”

“Fuck you.” There’s no hostility to it and he knows you know it.

“Very original. ANYWAY, I was going to say despite your constant attitude and constant shouting, I still really like hanging out with you. So I’d like to not only hang out at…”you pull your phone from your pocket and gaze at the tiny blue screen, “4 AM”

Another pause as he processes his elation. He’s happy you’re not telling him this is the last time. But this isn’t the hard part. “Ok.”

You squint suspiciously. “I mean it.”

“So do I.”

“Then say it aloud to me,” you challenge.

This is the hard part.

He takes a few deep breaths and then… “I don’t wanna be just friends with you. I don’t know what any of that shit even means. All the stupid lovey dovey shit Raccoon Ey-”

“Ashido.”

It’s his turn to glare. “Fine, Ashido talks about all the time. All I know is no one talks to me the way you do. And I always feel calm around you. Calmer than usual. I always wanna hang out more with the idiots when you’re around to hang out with them too.”

You smile but hide it behind your fingertips. He doesn’t look finished so you nod to encourage him to finish.

“And I don't know what it is. But whenever I wake up from the fucking …” He doesn’t say the word “nightmare”. He struggles with it like if he says it he’s surrendering to weakness or something. “Whenever I wake up the only thing I think of is you. Wishing you were there, like a fucking idiot. But it never goes away, not until I text you and I see you and I hear your voice.” His head is in his hands, like he’s ashamed to admit this to you.

It’s quiet again, some cars from below have started bustling on the street. The morning wind carries his scent and the city's waking smells of coffee and fresh baked bread. You stand quietly and walk over to him, head still hanging in his hands as he crouches over on the crate.

You hug him, force yourself between his legs and wrap your arms around his head. And at first he stiffens but he doesn’t pull away from you or move out of your grasp. He just sits there with his arms hanging limply at his sides,eyes wide, and your arms wrapped around his head. His ear is pressed against your chest, listening to the city waking around you. You're warm and you smell impossibly good and he knows this is what he craves when he wakes up from those terrifying nightmares. Your embrace is the cure.

“I like being here. I like being there for you.”

Then his arms move up to wrap around your waist and he hugs you back and sighs into your chest. He stays there for at least 10 minutes listening to the steady beating of your heart.

And then he quietly mutters, “Thanks.”

--

[dialovers-lover-xoxo]

The diaboys reacting to a boy forcefully kissing their s/o female x reader

❌Trigger Warning!❌ There is non-consensual kissing and aggressive flirting. The kisses are very short and it doesn’t go further than a kiss but if non-consensual kisses and aggressive flirting make you uncomfortable or trigger you or bother you in any way, you may not want to read after the cut :)

Shu

——-

The hallway was deserted, he had you cornered against a wall. “I really like you.” The boy said, his arms caging you in. You laughed nervously. “Thank you, but I actually have a boyfriend.” “He doesn’t need to know.” The boy said, moving his head closer to you, putting you nose to nose. “No, thank you!” You pulled back and tried to duck under one of his arms but he quickly grabbed your waist and pressed his lips to yours. You shoved at his chest but less than a second later the boy was pulled away from you and you heard him yelp in pain. Looking up you saw Shu had him pressed against the wall, his wrist in a bone-crushing grip. Shu’s voice was quiet and calm, but the look in his eyes would have made even the bravest of men cry for their mother. “You don’t kiss what doesn’t belong to you. Now scram.” The boy didn’t need to be told twice, the second Shu released him the boy dashed off. Shu turned to you, his eyebrows furrowed and you looked up at him sheepishly but he then hugged you. “Ha..you troublesome woman...making me use my legs.”

Reiji

——-

Reiji was walking through the school, mentally going over his notes for the next test. He passed you-seemingly alone in an empty classroom. Curious and worried, he walked in and saw a boy looming over you. The boy then pressed his mouth to yours, firmly holding you in place. Reiji stalked forward and grabbed his forearm, wrenching him off of you. “Kissing a woman forcefully, your lack of manners are completely deplorable. If Karlheinz Sakamaki found out scum like you went to this school...” Reiji let his voice trail off. The boy’s eyes widened. “K-Karlheinz Sakamaki?” “Yes, as I’m sure you know, he’s a very influential man.” Reiji let go of the boy and stepped closer to him. “He also happens to be my father. If you don’t wish to get expelled, leave this room.” After another fearful look, the boy ran out. Reiji looked down at you and you hung your head. “I’m sorry-“ “I know it’s not your fault. I’m going to teach you self-defense. He will not be the last man to approach you like that.”

Ayato

———

Ayato just wanted some damn takoyaki. Why did you even insist on going to class? Why would you prefer that over making the great Ayato food? He paced outside the classroom door, waiting for you. The door flung open and it was only Ayato’s incredibly vampire reflexes that prevented him from being hit with it. You walked out. “Finally! Your Truly was-“ You hurried past him. “Huh?” Ayato followed after you angrily. Why the hell were you ignoring him? A boy bumped into him. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” Then Ayato saw the boy run after you and grab your waist, then turned you around and kissed you. Ayato saw red. He ran forward and yanked the guy backwards by his sweatshirt, then threw him to the ground. “Don’t touch what belongs to Yours Truly!” Ayato kissed you deeply and grinned down at him. “I’m the only one who can kiss her, you got that?”

Kanato

————

“Uh, well, um...” You stammered, backing away from the boy approaching you. “You can’t seriously be loyal to that Kanato guy, right?” He asked. “He’s so weird, carrying that bear everywhere. You’d do so much better with me.” “No I-“ The boy grabbed your arm and pulled you forward, then kissed you. You squealed against his mouth and thrashed. Suddenly the boy pulled back, screaming in pain and fear, his clothes on fire. You turned in panic and saw Kanato, who looked terrifying. “No, Kanato, please don’t kill him!” You begged. Kanato’s eyes narrowed at you. “You want to save him? Are you cheating on me?!” “No! I tried to stop him from kissing me, but I don’t want him to die!” The fire stopped, the boy unscorched. Kanato turned to him. “I’ll spare you now, but if you come near my doll again, Teddy and I will cut you into little pieces.” The boy whimpered, nodding, then ran away. Kanato looked at you angrily. “Since I spared him, you owe me. Give me your blood now. After school we’ll go to the sweet shop and then you’ll bake me a pie.” You nodded weakly and allowed Kanato to sink his fangs into your flesh.

Laito

———

The boy leaned forward and kissed you. You shoved him away. “S-sorry, but I have a boyfriend!” The boy chuckled. “Yeah, that Laito guy? He’s a perv, I’m a gentleman.” He tried to kiss you again but Laito stepped in between the two of you. When did he get there? “A gentleman who tries to kiss a girl after she says no? Fufu, how pathetic. This is my Little Bitch. Get your own and leave.” The boy narrowed his eyes but left, muttering curses under his breath. “Thanks, Laito.” You tell your boyfriend quietly. He turned to you, smiling. “I need to get every trace of him off you. When we get home we’ll shower together and your body will drown in my touch.”

Subaru

————

“Look, I’m flattered, but I’m not interested.” You said, which was basically just a rewording of the previous three sentences that had left your mouth. The boy stalked closer. Was he always that tall and scary looking? He grinned down at you, then yanked you for a kiss. You squirmed but he was too strong, almost as strong as-“GET THE FUCK OFF HER!” Subaru. Subaru threw the guy against the wall and punched him in the face. “Don’t ever kiss her again, ya hear?” The boy desperately tried to stop his bleeding nose. “Okay, okay.” “Now fuck off.” Holding his nose, the boy ran off, leaving droplets of the blood. Subaru turned to you with a growl. “This is why I don’t want ya leaving my side! From now on, you’re stickin’ with me at all times.” Without waiting for an answer, Subaru grabbed your hand and started walking to his next class.

Ruki

———

“Your master isn’t here.” The boy next to you said thoughtfully. “Huh?” You blushed. Had he heard Ruki call himself your master? You were sure you never called Ruki master in public. The boy walked over to you. “I’ve got ya to myself, Livestock.” Your eyes widened and you nearly toppled over a desk. He grabbed your face so hard it hurt and kissed you. Ruki rushed into the room and pushed him off you and onto the ground. Ruki towered over the boy on the floor, his cold blue eyes like steel. “Nobody calls her Livestock but me. Her master is always with her and if you don’t want to be at the other end of my whip, you won’t approach her again.” The boy scrambled back. Ruki wrapped his arm around your shoulders and steered out of the room, leaving the boy petrified on the floor.

Kou

——

Kou had just finished giving autographs and finally had some time to himself. He passed the library and something caught his eye. You were sitting on a table, which was normal, but you weren’t reading or studying. In fact, you looked like you were inching away from something out of Kou’s view. Kou walked inside and growled. It was the same asshole that had been flirting with you for a week now. Kou walked forward but broke into a sprint when he saw the boy’s lips touch yours. Kou hugged you from behind and pulled you back. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Her boyfriend isn’t keen on others kissing her.” Kou lead you away and made a mental note to tell his fangirls to make his life a living hell.

Yuma

———

Yuma hated being stuck inside a classroom, he wanted to be outside working in his garden, preferably with you. He asked the teacher if he could go to the bathroom and left with his hands in his pockets. He heard a scared voice and turned the corner. He saw you were backed up against the wall by three large guys. Not larger than him, of course, but way too big for you to take on. The boy in the middle, right in front of you, who seemed to be the leader, yanked you against him and kissed you. Yuma pulled him back by his hair and punched him. The other boys tried to come to his defense but Yuma easily defeated them. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulders. “Don’t touch her again. There’s more where that came from.” He warned the boys with a fanged grin.

Azusa

———

You backed away from the boy. “Azusa’s so creepy, why do you like him?” “You’re acting creepy too now!” You said angrily. For a second the boy’s eyes widened but he then laughed. “Whatever. He’s a weakling, I’m not. So come here.” He managed to grab your arm and he pulled you close to him. He ducked his head and kissed you. A force shoved him away from you. “Eve...is mine...don’t touch her...” Azusa said. “Yeah, what are you gonna do?” Azusa pulled out a knife. “Your arm...would look so pretty...with a new friend...” the boy squeaked and ran away. Azusa chuckled but then looked at you seriously. “That was...an accident...right, Eve? You didn’t...want to...Kiss him, right?” You nodded. “I didn’t.” “Good...I’m glad...” Azusa kissed you sweetly. “Only I...can kiss Eve...”

Carla

———

If Carla wasn’t so angry, he would’ve laughed. A human like that guy kissing you? His lips weren’t even worthy of kissing the dirt under your shoes. Using his magic, Carla made him soar across the hallway and hit the wall. “You scum. Your mouth doesn’t deserve to breathe in the same oxygen as her. Now go away, or you’ll be very sorry.”

Shin

——-

Shin saw you struggling to escape the grasp of a boy kissing you. He ran forward and punched him, grinning when he saw the broken nose he had caused. “Don’t come back! Or I’ll send my wolves after you!” You doubted the guy understood the whole claim of wolves, but when a guy punches you in the face and breaks your nose, you do the sensible thing and run away. Luckily, this guy was at least somewhat sensible and did just that.

Kino

——-

“Um, noooo, I’d rather not.” “So you want to skip the movie and just do this?” The boy kissed you. You pulled back. “Hey! Don’t kiss a girl like that!” You yelled. Kino and Yuri walked forward, seemingly out of nowhere. Kino held your waist. Yuri looked at the boy. “You shouldn’t touch what belongs to another, nor should you kiss what belongs to my master. He’ll get very angry.” Kino kissed you deeply and shot the boy an arrogant grin. “She didn’t pull away from me.” His face then got angry. “Now screw off.”

[chokemeanakin]

Cruel Intentions - Anakin Skywalker x fem Reader (smut)

Masterlist

WC: 6.8k

Summary: It’s Life Day but Anakin is mad and he’s got a dirty fucking mouth

WARNINGS: 18+, some mean talk but it’s not really degrading, oral (m) receiving, p in v, holiday fun?

(a.n. plz, plz, pretty plz get Anakins voice in your head when you read this. watch a video of hayden stuttering his way through an interview or something, whatever, it just wont be the same unless you get his voice saying all this. anyway, continue. and merry christmas/happy holidays).

(Gif from @madeleineengland )

You had always loved Life Day, but this one in particular was going to be something special. Anakin scored time off from the war, and through the help of Padme, you got one of her lakeside Naboo houses all to yourselves for the holiday. 

You arrived before Anakin, as he was finishing up a meeting with the Jedi Council, and passed the time by making cookies. You were having a pretty good time at it too— your hair was up, music blasting, candles lit, and half a glass of wine was slowly disappearing as you danced around the kitchen. Then you heard the door jiggle and open, and a gust of cold air from around the corner signaled that Anakin was here. 

Right away, you could tell he was mad. He walked through the door with a scowl, face drawn in irritation, yanking his robe off and shaking the snow out of his hair. He threw his robe up on the hanger and nudged the door shut with his elbow. He didn’t even take his boots off as he came into the kitchen, still in full uniform.

You considered asking him what the mood was for, but in all honesty, you were afraid of his reaction. Usually he either deflects or gets mad back, and you really don’t want to fight. 

But he was silent as he prowled around the kitchen, taking in your activities, and you wanted to know what was bothering him on Life Day’s Eve of all days. If you could make it better, you’d try. So you softened your voice, and in your warmest, most innocent tone, you tried, “Hi, Anakin, I miss you! I’m making cookies if you want to stay here and help. Or just sit and watch. I don’t mind.”

You thought you’d start off simple. Get him to relax a bit, and then dig into what the issue was. He stood by the doorway, arms crossed, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re not mad that I’m late?” 

He thought you were mad? You were too tipsy to be mad. Honestly, you hadn’t even been keeping track of the time.

“Of course not! You had a council meeting, that’s important. I’m just glad to have you now,” you shot him your brightest grin. “Besides, we have all week to ourselves.”

At that, his shoulders loosened and he smiled a little back at you. It disappeared quickly, but his affections were replaced with two strong arms winding around your waist, one warm and one metal. He huffed lightly and rested his chin on your shoulder, watching you mix the icing in your bowl.

His demeanor was slightly better than you had previously perceived, so you decided to risk it.

“...Did something happen?”

“Just the same old,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your neck. It’s cold from the snowflakes still wetting his hair, and you shivered. “The council doesn’t trust me, they still won’t consider making me a master. Windu thinks I shouldn’t even be on the council.” 

You struggled to find words to this. You wanted to take his side, and tell him he deserved to have it all. At the same time, the council was full of old and wise members, and they knew what they’re doing. But you hated how much it was bothering Anakin, hated how under all that anger there was hurt, and a fear that he wasn’t good enough. The council was making him doubt himself, and it you wouldn’t have that.

“It’ll all come in due time, I’m sure of it,” you tell him. “Whether they like it or not, you’re on the council for a reason. You belong there, and I’m sure if you give it a littlest more time they’ll come around to seeing how you deserve the title of master. Besides,” you twist around in his arms enough to skim your lips across his jawbone, pressing a lingering kiss into his neck. “I can call you Master whenever you’d like.”  

This made Anakin freeze, and then begin to laugh. His low chuckles vibrated your body, and you couldn’t help but join in with him.

“I might have to take you up on that offer sometime.”

Your stomach clenched at the insinuation, heat pulsing through your veins. That was one of your goals for the night, admittedly— to be with Anakin. You had a little surprise for him as well, and you were just hoping he wouldn’t be too disgruntled or worked up to appreciate it. That being said... sometimes it was a good thing when he was frustrated.

Anakin sacrificed a hand to reach forward and dip into the bowl, scooping a dollop of blue icing out and placing it in his mouth. You heard him suck it off his finger, beating the dirty thoughts back with a stick. 

“Is it good?” You ask to distract yourself.

“Here, try.” 

You turn, expecting him to offer you a finger with some icing on it but instead he kisses you. Immediately your mouth is flooded with the sugary blue that stains his lips. You open your mouth, tongue tasting his, and he’s sweet. Your cheeks are burning bright as he kisses you, slow and deep and dirty, and it’s such a 360 from the lighthearted atmosphere you’ve created.

When you pulled back, you’re breathing hard, mouth tingling, licking your lips for the remnants of sweet icing. Anakin smiled down at you, eyes dark, and went back to resting his head on your neck, whispering in your ear in a low, rumbling voice. “Finish up. There’s other plans I want to get to.” 

•••

Anakin ended up having to leave again as you were icing the cookies to take one last impromptu call from Obi-Wan, just some last minute tying-loose-ends before his short break. He also took the chance to get out of his Jedi clothes, trading the leather armor and robes for more comfortable sleep clothes— which included loose fitting pants that hung low on his hips, and that damned sleep robe he wears without a shirt.

He came back into the kitchen just as you were finishing up, and you almost choked when you saw him.

“Aren’t you cold? It’s snowing pretty heavily out there and you’re not even wearing a shirt.” 

“I’ve got a fire going in the master bedroom, it should warm the place up soon,” he took some of your dirty dishes to the sink. “Why, do you not like it?”

“No, I—“ you stutter. It’s just the opposite. He’s beautiful beyond words. “I just didn’t want you to be cold.”

“I’m alright,” he smiled at you teasingly, reaching around you to grab the last of the dishes. 

Once they’re in the sink, he found you climbing up onto the counter, putting the spices away that were, of course, in the highest cabinet out of reach. You stretched up to reach it, unashamedly putting on a little show for Anakin as you exaggerate the curve of your backside. 

The action caused the holiday shorts you’re wearing to ride up, exposing the fleshy underside of your behind. You turned around to find him watching you, not even trying to hide it. He leaned back on the counter, arms crossed over his bare chest, eyes thoughtful as he took in the sight.

“Help me down?” You asked him, and he immediately pushes himself off the counter to fit his hands around your waist, lowering you safely to the ground. He held onto you a little too tight for it to be innocent, and you could feel him gravitating toward you, leaning in to start something you wouldn’t be able to stop. You pull away— you're not done with him, in fact your teasing has just begun.

Anakin huffed quietly to himself as you moved around him to start the warm water, soaking the dishes in it so the batter won’t stick overnight. You purposefully shot some water onto your shirt so that you had to gather a wad of paper towels in your hand and dab at your chest, pulling your shirt down so you could get at the wet spots. Anakin rolled his eyes as you grumbled about how clumsy you were, but you could see he was discreetly trying to look.

His resolve was already thin when he walked through the door. He hadn’t been able to have you in far too long, and he was planning on doing something about that tonight. He wasn’t sure what page you were on, though…. You seemed pretty content with baking cookies and then watching movies all night like you had mentioned in the days leading up, so your little teasing games were doing nothing to quell his curious anticipation.

You didn’t even have to try to get him all worked up. The spice cabinet, the wet shirt, those weren’t needed. It was like you didn’t even realize the effect you had on him— every little move you made around the kitchen, every little sigh or gasp or giggle, even the way you bent down to take the damn cookies out of the oven had him yearning for you. 

The last straw was when you needed a rag to clean the countertop, so you reached across his lap where he was sitting to grab it. You placed a not-so-innocent hand on his thigh to steady yourself, brushing against his chest as you did so. He was immediately enveloped in your smell, and the feel of your soft hair against his chest, your hand on his thigh— he needed to have you, now. 

“Y/n, forget the cookies,” he demanded.

“Oh?”

“Let’s go upstairs.”

•••

Your tongues clashed, teeth nipping, breaths gasping for air as you struggled to get closer to one another. All of Anakin’s anger and frustration was pouring out him in bruising kisses, fast and wet and greedy. You were combatting it with your own dirty, lustful responses. It was one of your favorite things to feel so needed by him, even if he was projecting his emotions from the day onto you. You were his outlet, the only thing that could help him, and you would gladly take these punishing kisses for as long as he needed.

The hand that wasn’t threaded through your hair exploded the rest of your body, fitting into each and every curve, squeezing at certain places and pulling you closer, adjusting you on his lap. He slipped his fingers beneath the neckline of your shirt, pulling it to the side so he could suck at the pulse in your neck, when he caught a flash of red.

His eyes darkened, lips twisting into a smirk as he traced the lacey garment. Suddenly his hands were gone, and he was leaning back away from you. “Show it to me.”

 So you stood before him and undressed, feeling small under his steady gaze. It was loaded with heat, and you could practically read his mind as each new strip of skin and the lacy red underwear you had worn specially for this occasion was revealed. He was planning everything he wanted to do to you, drinking you in, and storing away the sight into his memory for later times, when he’s on the battlefield and it’s been months and he misses you. But for now though, his present was waiting for him.

The look of him illuminated by the firelight, eyes scorching as he studied every inch of you had you squirming under his gaze. He leaned back in the loveseat, arrogant posture annoyingly sexy with the way his broad shoulders filled out the chair, long legs spreading before him. 

You needed to touch him. He wasn’t saying anything, or doing anything, so you approached him and settled yourself back on his lap, meaning to restart where you had left off. You trailed your hand down the smooth, hard planes of his body, feeling the ridges of his abs, the soft skin smooth and warm. He kept his arms slung lazily over the armrests, refraining from touching you, but you could feel the steady pulse of his eyes as he watched your every move. 

Those deep, calculating eyes. They made you nervous, but you’d be lying if you said the intimidation didn’t turn you on. 

He let you tangle one of your hands in his hair, feeling the soft curls glide between your fingers as you looked over him. But just as your palm slid near the band of his pants, he caught your wrist in his metal hand and stopped you.

“Get on the bed,” he flicked his eyes behind you, a cocky, mischievous glint in them. He knew you’ll do anything he said, with that voice. 

Hesitantly, you stood from his lap and made your way over to the bed. Your skin was raised with goosebumps, as you knew he was studying your every move. You sat on the plush mattress of the bed, crossing your legs over the knee, and looked at him. He was blanketed in shadows, but stared right back. 

“Spread your legs.” 

Your face immediately heated up in flames. He had always been the one to do that to you, with his hands, and pressed right up close to you. Somehow, having him sit across from you on the armchair and watching you from a distance was even more intimate.

He was waiting, though, so you did as he said. You already felt exposed under his greedy gaze, mesmerized by his beauty and the way the flames flickered off the sharp line of his jaw, the peak of his cheekbone. This dark angel was toying with you, teasing you, and you just wanted him to come over here and touch you. But he remained in that seat, head cocked as he looked you up and down.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded softly, cruelly. You had downcast your eyes, afraid to look at him without losing your confidence. The low tone of his voice left no room for debate, so you did as he said. 

Your stomach churned, heart fluttering as he leveled his gaze at you. He was studying every inch of your lewd pose, smug with himself. He wasn’t even even near you, but he had all the control, and he knew it. 

“Now let me see that pretty pussy.” 

Your breathing stopped. His voice is quiet, yet commanding all the same, and you forgot how dirty his mouth could be. It shocked you more than anything, which is why you hesitated.

“What, are you getting shy on me? That’s not what it seemed like in the kitchen,” he mused. “You wanted me to see you. Now, let me see you.” 

The words rang out in the air, causing heat to build up in your core and leak out onto your underwear. Swallowing your slight embarrassment, you hooked your finger around the front of your panties and pulled them to the side, exposing yourself to him. 

Anakin’s gaze darkened, and he sat up. He rested his elbows on his knees, covering his mouth in his hands as he appreciated the view. You squirmed under his gaze, waiting for him to tell you what to do next as you felt cold air hit your glistening folds.

“Look at you,” he purred. “Already soaking wet, and I haven’t even touched you.” 

You shrank away from his eyes, not having anything to say to defend yourself. The fire crackled but you shivered, his shadow looming over you, and you just wanted his warmth pressed against you, his hands on you, pulling that pleasure from the depths of your body. He knew how to do it just right, and you’d never been able to make yourself feel as good as he does. And now he’s right here, but he’s holding himself away from you. Shifting your hips in desperation, you whined and pulled at your panties, rubbing some friction against your throbbing clit.

“Stop. Don’t touch yourself,” Anakin ordered. His eyes were still lidded, voice sharp. You let go of your panties and dropped your hands to the side, holding yourself up on your elbows. Your legs were still splayed open, the sight of your panties soaking through put on display before Anakin.

“Please, Anakin,” you shifted your hips again, hoping it would provide some relief but finding none. “I need you.”

Anakin tsked at this but stood to his full, domineering height. You craned your neck to watch him as he stood over you, capturing your chin between his metal fingers and forcing you to look him in the eye, the other fitting itself on the soft flesh of your thigh. You keened into the soft touch, nerves lighting off like fireworks. 

“You need me?” He taunted, blue eyes digging into yours. “Or does your greedy little cunt need me?” 

You gasped at his words. Never had he called you something degrading before, like greedy. You’re pretty sure you’ve never heard the word “cunt” leave his mouth before either, but it spilled from his lips like red wine, smooth and dark. Anakin had always been so soft with you, so loving, and his statement shocked you. 

“Hm?” He goaded. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

He shifted his hands up your thigh, sneaking over your pelvis and landing on your mound. He let his thumb graze over your clit, unmoving.

Sparks erupted behind your eyes, and you leaned into his touch. An invisible force held your hips to the bed, stopping you from chasing your own pleasure as he continued with his words.

“Do you want me to fuck you open slowly on my cock? You want me to fill your tight little pussy until you can’t take anymore?” 

The weight of his thumb on your clit was distracting. It throbbed under his touch with every measured, vulgar word, and his mouth twitched as he felt it. “I think I just got my answer.” 

At this, he got on his knees before you. He lowered his mouth to trace his lips against the inside of your thighs, and you squirmed between the tickling sensation and the need to have his mouth on you. He gripped your hips in his strong hold, hard, mumbling into the soft flesh of your inner thighs. “You can’t seem to sit still today....” he sucked a bruising kiss into your thigh, and when you roll your hips into the feeling, he looked at you sharply.

“Behave.”

You flinched at his tone. It was deep, threatening, and pulsing with irritation. Was he angry at you? Your eyes stung, shrinking away from his narrowed gaze again, wandering if you did something to make him unhappy with you.

He lowered his head back to your thighs, purposefully skipping over the part that was throbbing for him, dripping for him. You held your breath, desperately trying to hold yourself back from moving or even making a sound, too afraid that you would anger him further. But his thumb pressed a little harder into your clit, and you fell back against the mattress, whimpering frustratedly. 

To your relief, he didn’t get mad at you. Instead he hooked his finger around your underwear, similar to how you did earlier so he could gage your response to his actions. The low hum he let out was pleased. “Such a pretty little pussy... dripping wet... is that all for me?” 

He was still toying with you, still teasing, and at this point it was getting painful. You would do anything to have his fingers on you, mouth on you, anything in you. So you nodded, and you told him it was all for him, everything was for him. He licked a single line up your slit, the tip of his tongue just barely grazing you. The sensation sent fully body shivers across your skin, and you melted into the bed, ready to lose yourself in the pleasure. He covered you again with the now drenched material.

Did you say something wrong?

“Show me how much you want me then.” 

You were shaking as he released his hold on you, head fuzzy with arousal, cheeks flushed with confusion. What game was he playing?

You swallow your nerves and stand from the bed, feeling so small even as you stood over him. He was kneeling, looking up at you under dark lids, daring you to do something. He was giving you some control, so you decided you’d try to get your sweet Ani back, to soften the energy in the room so he could be happy and playful like he usually was.

He sized you up quizzically as you wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand curling into his hair like before. You tilted his head up so you could lean down and plant a gentle kiss to his forehead, hugging his face into your chest. 

Your body shook as he laughed, dark and mocking underneath you. You pulled back to look at him. “Anakin?”

“If you want me to fuck you, sweetheart, you’re going to have to try harder than that.” 

That’s it. 

You just wanted to get fucked, and he just wanted to tease you. If he wanted you to come to him, then fine. So be it. 

Anger bloomed from the pit of your stomach and you pushed at his chest to get him onto the bed. He did so, at his own leisurely pace, pissing you off further with the smug smirk still on his face. You kissed it off of him, biting his lip in punishment and yanking his hair a little too hard in your fist. He groaned like he liked it, so release him and trail you kisses downward, biting and marking up his body until you get to his pants. You pulled back the waistband and revealed him to you, taking him in your grasp. Any normal man would be frightened of an angry girl with his dick in her hands, so you looked up at him, trying to see if he had been humbled by your anger yet. He was staring back at you, unimpressed.

You waste no time taking him into your mouth, sucking hard, maybe a little too hard. He sighed and leaned back, enjoying it far too much. You tried to convey your annoyance with the punishing pace you set on his cock, sliding up and down with your  mouth and hand. You grasped onto his thigh for stability, feeling the remnants of your saliva drip onto it as you gave him the sloppiest, dirtiest blowjob you’ve ever done. Halfway through, when you realize you’ve gotten little to no reaction, you peer up and see that he’s on his datapad. 

You pumped him up and down in your fist, gathering your breath as you studied him. Does it not feel good? Are you not doing a good enough job? He’s hard, so you must be doing something right. But it was like he didn’t even notice what you were doing anymore, or if he did, he didn’t care. You paused with your hand on the base of his cock, squeezing.

“Why’d you stop?” Anakin didnt’t even look up from his datapad. 

“Am… am I doing good?”

“Of course you are,” Anakin finally shifted his eyes to you, bringing a hand down to wipe some saliva off your bottom lip with his thumb. “Now finish the job.”

With this, he removed his hand and his gaze, going back to the data pad. Fueled by anger again, and a determination to make him react, you took him into your mouth harder, faster, sloppier, wetter. He didn’t even twitch, didn’t even moan or bury his hands in your hair or tell you how good it felt like he normally does.

You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked extra hard, tongue probing into the skin there and swirling in a circle, over and over. There. He gave an appreciative hum. You thought you’ve finally got him where you wanted when he says, 

“That the best you can do?”

You whined around him frustratedly, just wanting him to feel something, wanting him to feel good, wanting him to feel that way because of you. But he was bored, you could tell by the way he didn’t even spare you a second glance as you took him all the way into the back of your throat, holding him there for longer than you ever have. You were trying your best for him, and usually he’d be writhing and moaning beneath you, but now...

He laughed, pulling you off of him with both hands to halt your frenzied movements. 

“Anakin,” your eyes shone with confused tears. 

“Shhh, baby, none of that,” his voice was sweet again, and he stroked the skin of your cheek as he brought your face to his for a gentle kiss. “Come, sit on my lap.”

You were giving up on trying to figure him out. One minute he was so sweet, the next he was uncharacteristically callous. Your eyes burned in embarrassment, feeling like you’ve failed him as you crawled onto his lap. He positioned you on his thighs, keeping yours spread with his. An arm wrapped around your shoulders, locking you to his hard chest as the other snuck down your body, touching you over your panties.

“Is this what you wanted?” goosebumps erupted all over your body as you felt his lips ghost over your ear. “You wanted me to make you feel good?”

He rubbed gentle circles into your clit with his fingers, allowing you to shift your hips in time with it. For a moment, you forgot about your problems and lost yourself in the way he was rubbing you. You moaned as he played with your clit, more slick gushing out and further drenching your panties. 

“Even though you couldn’t make me feel good?”

Your breath caught in your throat, embarrassment bubbling up in your chest. You were ashamed, accepting this pleasure from him when you gave him nothing in return.

“I can try again,” you offered, hips halting. You didn’t want anything else from him until you could give it back, but he slipped his hands beneath your underwear and touched you directly, rubbing you at a fast pace. Your head fell back against his shoulders, legs opening wider on their own accord as your orgasm built up in time with his hand. You couldn’t help but accept the pleasure, forced to feel it as he held you in his iron grasp.

“Anakin.. Anakin please,” you begged. “Let me make you feel good, too.”

“Baby, you already tried,” he nippd at your ear, voice cruel. 

“I can try harder, Ani— please!” Your voice came out in a shout as your orgasm approached. Before you could finish, he stopped rubbing and kept his fingers on your clit, pressing down, feeling you throb beneath him. 

You could feel your slick dripping down your thighs. Your panties were uncomfortably wet, but your arms were trapped under his and you couldn’t reach down to remove them. He seemed to read your mind.

“Let’s get these off you now, hm? You’re soaking through them, I can feel it on my leg.” 

Of course, he ignores your pleas and shifted the focus to drag your panties down your leg. He was right— you’ve made a mess of his leg, but now that you’re sitting directly on him, it’s even worse. He parted your folds with his hand, middle finger dragging up and down your slit, collecting the glistening fluid. A little hint of satisfaction soothed your worries as you felt his cock twitch beneath you at the sight. 

“You always knew how to take my fingers so well,” he whispered in your ear, pushing his finger into you as he does so. You accepted him readily, walls fluttering around his finger as it relieved some of the ache. You wanted to come, but you couldn’t— not without feeling guilty, for neglecting his needs. How could you be so selfish and take all the pleasure for yourself?

“Anakin,” you whined again, trying to get his attention. You purposefully shifted your hips in a way that would rub against him, but only succeeded in pushing his finger deeper into you. “Anakin please, let me… speak… hmng… I can’t focus…”

“Speak,” he kissed your neck, pushing another finger into you despite your warnings. “I’m listening.”

“I want to make you feel good,” you moaned. His fingers stroked into you slow, deep, and perfect. You gushed around his digits, the sound of it absolutely sinful. He kissed the back of your neck as his thumb began to rub your clit again, gently because he knew how close you were to cumming. “Anakin, please.”

“I know, baby.”

No, he didn’t. He wasn’t getting it. Your hands dug into his thighs, wanting him to stop, wanting him to continue—

“I love you. Please, let me—“

“Enough.”

You gasped, bones turning to putty in his hands. He kept sliding his fingers into you, thumb grazing your clit, but you were so ashamed. He just yelled at you, he’s never done that before. And now you didn’t know how to act, how to feel. 

“Aw, baby, did I scare you?” He taunted, curling his fingers into you. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

The sting of his words brought tears to your eyes, but it was battled by your pleasured haze, vision spotting and feeling honing down to the push and pull of his fingers. There were too many emotions swirling inside you that you didn’t know what to say anymore. All you knew was that you were close to cumming again, you have been for a while, but you weren’t sure if you should accept it.

Your walls pulsed around him and he pulled his touch away, denying you of the orgasm as he spread the slick down your thigh. He reached for his dick, gliding it up and down your folds, covering it in your arousal. He was hot and wet and stiff against you, and you bore down, wanting him inside you. For once, he gave you what you wanted, and you both moaned as he began to sink into you.

The stretch was immediate, and you cried out as you took him inch by inch. He was so thick and the angle was so deep that he had to lift you up and bring you back down multiple times, opening you up gradually until he was fully buried inside you.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well,” he praised, kissing up your neck, along your cheek. He twisted a hand into your hair, tugging it back so he could suck at the sensitive skin of your neck. Your walls clenched around him at the pleasurable sensation, punching an unexpected moan from him.

“Fuck me,” he hissed, sounding like your Ani again for just a moment. 

Your chest swelled with pride. Finally, you were making him feel good. You clenched around him again, shifting your hips, searching for another reaction.

“Y/n, shit—“

“I know what your problem is,” you chanced, realizing you had the upper hand for now. “You’re still— fuck— you’re still mad about the Council.”

Anakin glared, thrusting into you harder. 

“That’s why you’re— hnng— that’s why you’re hate-fucking me.”

“I’m not hate-fucking you.”

“This certainly isn’t love-fucking.”

“Would you just shut up and take my cock already?”

He plunged into you hard and deep, stretching you open so good that you momentarily lost your train of thought. Did he just yell at you again?

“This isn’t— this isn’t fair,” you moaned, loving the feel of his length scraping against your walls . “You don’t get to boss me around like this.”

“Oh yeah?” He raised his eyebrows at you, fist tightening into your hair so that you couldn’t look away. “That’s not what it seemed like a few moments ago.”

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you slammed down onto his cock, anger winning out against everything else. You had one goal in mind now— if you could make him cum before you, it would even out the playing field.

He caught on to what you were planning immediately, flipping you over so he was fully in control. He grasped your hips, lifting them off the bed so he could drill into you at an angle, hitting the spot that had you arching off the bed and calling his name in a moment of weakness. Your pleasure heightened as he rolled his pelvis against yours, your clit rubbing against him. 

“Fuck you,” you moaned, clawing at the bedsheets.

“Currently doing that,” he gasped.

Oh, he was so going to get it.

You reached up, grabbing at his shoulders to pull him down to your level. He was stronger than you and could have resisted, but he gave in, thinking you were about to cum and just needed him close. He wasn’t entirely wrong— with each roll of his hips, his length probed deep inside you, causing your vision to white out. You could barely keep track of your thoughts as you squirmed beneath him. He held you down, completely negating your ability to try and flip him over. 

What had you been thinking? You had just been trying to get the high ground, but now you were so close— so close— to cumming. Think of something gross. Wet socks? Burnt cookies? Jar-Jar? 

Nothing seemed to be working. Soon, you didn’t want it to work. You cried out with each thrust of his hips, eyes rolling back into your head from the pleasure. Your pussy drooled around his cock, slick making a mess of both of your thighs. The slide of him was so hot, so wet, so good— 

“Stop!” 

You couldn’t think of any other way. Anakin immediately stopped his thrusts, pulling back to study your face in a panic.

“What? What happened? Are you okay?”

You bit your lip hard, heart pounding and walls pulsing around his cock from your denied orgasm. You squeezed your eyes closed, waiting for the heat to dissipate from your stomach before you pushed yourself to a sitting position. 

He gave you room to do so, the worry still clear in his eyes. 

“I’m completely fine,” you kissed his cheek, laughing deviously. “I just wanted to be on top.”

Anakin frowned at you, but switched positions anyway. “That’s not funny. I thought I hurt you.” 

“So you do care.”

“Of course I care,” he grabbed the finger that you had been jabbing into his chest, kissing your palm before wrapping it around his neck. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

“You yelled at me,” you lifted yourself off his lap slowly, relishing in the drag of his of cock inside you. You sunk down again, shivering at the sensation.

“I didn’t know you were that sensitive.” 

“Well… when it’s you…” you moaned suddenly, his dick pulsing into you at a delicious angle. “I just don’t like when you’re mad at me.”

“Then you should behave better next time,” he nipped the words into your collarbone, almost purring again.

“See, that’s not fair—“

“Do you need me to fuck some sense into you?” His gaze was firm, completely serious. Your knees weakened around his waist at the tone, wandering why you found that so damn attractive. He tilted his head at you when you didn’t answer. “Is that a yes?” 

“Anakin—“ your cries took you by surprise as he slid his hands down to your ass, clutching your flesh in each hand and spreading you open so he could fuck up into you, hard. Your nails dug into his shoulders, body bouncing as he bore into your aching hole. 

There was no way you were going to last now, not with the way he was making you feel. You had held your orgasm back for so long, and while it would have been nice to make Anakin cum before you, to give him a taste of his own medicine, you were completely at his mercy. 

“Cum for me, and then we’ll talk,” he appeased, voice dark. Why was that hot? Warmth blossomed in your stomach and you listened to his ragged breathing in your ear, body tingling, pussy tightening around him. He turned your face to him with a hand in your hair, holding you close as filthy words spilled from his mouth.

“Take my cock, baby. That’s it, fuck me, come on,” he chanted against your lips. Always so demanding. You couldn’t hold back your moans as he plunged into you over and over, right into that one spot, the heat in your belly expanding until it took over each of your senses. He fucked you at a rapid pace, hips slamming into yours, fingers bruising your ass. Your walls quivered around him, the ball in your stomach snapping. Suddenly, you were coming all over him, pussy throbbing as he massaged his dick into you in wave-like motions, working you through it. 

“Does that feel good?” He teased, lips tracing softly over your cheek, soothing hands rubbing your shaking thighs. He was being sweet again— another 360 change in demeanor. 

You responded with broken whimpers, muscles twitching as you rode out your high. When he finally stopped, you sucked in a deep breath, shivering from the aftershocks.

“Mmm, I fucked you good, didn’t I?” He planted soft kisses under your ear, down your neck, and over your shoulder. Now he was back to taunting you, his words cruel, but voice so sweet. “Your sweet little pussy just came all over my cock. So pretty. You wanted it so bad, didn’t you? Even though you don’t want to admit it?”

He was like a snake-charmer, hypnotizing you with every slow, filthy word. You knew what he was doing, but at the same time, you couldn’t stop your body’s reaction to it. Every syllable had you melting into his lap, his hands rubbing the flesh of your hips softly. 

“Are you blushing again?” He dragged his cock out of you, and you whimpered at the sensation of it against your overstimulated walls. “Don’t tell me you’re shy, now. Not after what we just did.” 

“I’m not shy—“ Force, you couldn’t focus when he looked at you like that, when he purred in your ear like that. 

“No?” He pushed back into you. “Then look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, eyelashes sticking together with moisture. His full lips pulled into a smirk, dewy skin glowing in the firelight. 

“Does this pretty little pussy want to cum on my cock again?” He pulled your hips flush against his, so deep, so thick inside of you. You mewled, blood heating up in your veins.

“Please,” you gave in, allowing him to massage his cock into your walls. 

“Please, what?”

You would get him back for this later. For now, the hot slide of his cock inside of you was too good, too overwhelming. 

“Please, make me cum,” you didn’t think your cheeks could get any redder, his eyes probing into yours as you said this. Never in a million years did he ever expect his shy little baby to say something so filthy. He immediately smirked, pressing a pleased kiss to your lips.

“Good girl.”

Your skin broke out into a hot sweat, hole pulsing around him as he began to rock back into you. His strokes were slower, deeper, pulling ecstasy from the depth of your bones. He kneaded your flesh between his fingers as he rolled his hips into you. You fell forward, moans being dragged out of your sore throat, watching his cock dissapear inside of you.

His thighs glistened with your juices, the sound of him sinking into your leaking hole humiliatingly sinful. He noticed you watching and brought a hand down, toying with your clit. He moaned into your ear as he did so, the drag of his cock becoming difficult as you squeezed around him. 

This time, your orgasm washed over you like a warm blanket, causing you to arch your body into his. You trembled as the waves of pleasure sapped you of energy, rocking your hips in time with Anakin as he spilled his warmth inside of you. The sounds of him cumming sparked a flame in your heart— you wished he had indulged you in his pleasure earlier. Now, all it left you with was a desire to hear him lose it over and over again, and you realized you had your plans all set for the rest of the night.

Anakin stroked his hand up and down your back, lips attaching to your neck as you came down from your highs. He positioned the two of you so that you were laying down, you on his chest, completely limp apart from the occasional post-orgasm shivers. He gave you time to recover before pulling out of you, kissing your quiet whimpers away as he tugged his length out of your aching hole. 

“I win,” he mumbled against your lips.

[gojology]

— Gojo and Nanami | Their Insecurities

pairing : insecure gojo x gender neutral reader, insecure nanami x gender neutral reader warnings : unedited, probably some misspellings, maybe some cursing, i probably dont make sense at all wordcount : 1703 a/n : this is so bad dear god please forgive me for deeming this as content

GOJO SATORU ‧₊˚✩彡.

☆ Gojo’s insecure about his lack of bodyhair. His lack of facial hair and arm hair worries him. Being babyfaced wasn’t something positive in his eyes- no, he wishes he was physically more masculine.

   Your eyes meet his, the sun rays bathing both of you in an orange filtered light. His mouth is slightly opened, skin flush to the touch. After a night of intimacy, your ready for another round, pushing your palm towards his forehead. “Good morning, Satoru.” you say, voice slightly wavering even in the most private presence, without the formalities and what not, he’s surprisingly normal, and it’s taken you a bit to adjust to that. He’s warm, but it’s the good kind of warm, and it shows on his silly, dopey smile.

    You guess it wasn’t the time for more sex, so you resist your urges, directing the energy to something else.

    Gradually, your palms find themselves on his cheeks, and you pinch them slightly, giving him a look you hope is loving- because you really do mean it. Your rest assured, as the curve to his swollen lips grew even wider. The sounds of bird chirped as your fingers danced across his jawline, finally at your final stop, his chin. 

    You tip his chin up, and sure enough, hickeys are adorning his neck. A feeling of joy and honor fills you for a brief second, you were the one that was allowed to see him vulnerable, given the pass into his locked up heart. He finally breaks the silence between the two of you, pushing away your slack hand delicately. 

    It’s peculiar, there’s a tremble to his lips, like he’s scared, or about to burst into a fit of tears. You think it should be the other way around, but here you were, arms held close to your chest, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, bated breath preventing you from questioning the sudden change in tone. 

    “Hey, um, Y/N, weird ass question, but, am I hairy? Like, wooly mammoth hairy?” 

    You can’t tell if it’s sarcasm or not.

    Trying not to make a face, you shrug your shoulders. “Well, I mean, not really. You’re actually pretty nonhairy, in terms of uh... The average-” you pause, realizing how drastically his face fell. “-But I do like non-hairy guys! Who would wanna date a wooly mammoth anyways? Hey, baby..” you coo, giving him a tiny peck on the cheek, fluttering your eyelashes.     “What’s this about? Hey, you know, you can just be straightforward with me, I don’t mind.” 

    He doesn’t take a moment of hesitation, exasperatedly blurting out, “Does my lack of.. Hair, bother you?” but it seems he regrets it, your cheeks puffing up, stifling a giggle. Yet, he maintains the bone-chilling eye contact, his eyes are as vivid as ever, so blue it looked like the entrance to heaven. Your immediately lulled, whatever he was going to say was definitely urgent.

    “W-What? Are you being serious?” covering your mouth, your voice is muffled, but his face looks absolutely terrified, and you relish in how funny he looked. It wasn’t everyday that he was genuinely frightened, well, maybe he didn’t show it often.    “Of course not! Why would I be even remotely worried about bodyhair when I have something way more eye-catching in front of me?”

    The shock turns into a sheepish smile, returning for a second time, your heart melting instantly. He takes a long, deep breath, exhaling the tension away, tugging at the covers to go over his chest. You hadn’t realized that he had stolen more than half of the blanket for himself, but you don’t make a fuss about it. 

    For all the weight he carried on his sagging shoulders, you’re sure the warmth is appreciated. 

NANAMI KENTO ‧₊˚✩彡.

☆ Nanami thinks he’s a boring person, through and through. Outside of work, he doesn’t see why anyone would want him. Some days, he wonders if he should pick up on Gojo’s personality, telling jokes and being sarcastic and what not.

   The fine, white porcelain Nanami had gifted you was beautiful, to say the least. Nanami frequently shone it until it glimmered in the light, wiping any smudge or speck of dirt that dared to get on his beloved tea set that he gifted to you a few months prior. Gold trim, alongside depictions of birds fluttering about, and your favorite flowers. It’s perfect for you, and that’s why he had gotten it. His eyes had instantly brightened, picturing your beaming face as you served the two of you some tea.

   But he wonders, would you be happier if he perhaps gifted you something more up to date in comparison to the porcelain? He had enough money to buy you the world, bags, jewelry, he’d often used to hear stories of his co-workers giving their wives expensive, well, anything, and they’d be over the moon. A sudden realization grew inside of him at the thought of this:    

   Was he too out-of-date?    

   The thought went rampant in his usually collected mind, twisting and turning at night, only the sound of you, deep in sleep, could calm the troubled man down. As a consequence to his overthinking, he got little to no rest, and if he got little to no rest, his eyebags would turn their ugly, sneering faces in his direction.

     And so, as he’s baking tea cakes to go along with the afternoon tea the two of you would routinely drink, he’s going deep into depth of himself. He’s a good worker, good at...

     What was he good at? Aside from work, he can’t see why he’d be of use. Nanami acknowledges he’s stoic, which may be good in some cases, but often, everyone runs away from him because he appears as scary with those cold, calculating eyes. As opposed to Gojo, everyone enjoyed how lenient of a teacher he was. Well, Nanami isn’t sure on that, maybe aside from Megumi, Nobara, and Yuuji, everyone hated that. Regardless, him and Gojo don’t share something in common.

     Gojo has humor, and he doesn’t. 

     So why did you like him? 

     Nanami’s subconsciously drumming his long, bony fingers against the counter, eyes studying the ceiling like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Steadily, an acrid smell completely overwhelmed your senses- now, you’re hacking into your arm, and finally, Nanami comes back to Earth. 

     He blinks a few times, like he’s drinking in his surroundings, before he realizes the tea cakes are completely burning into a crisp.

Now, he’s on heightened alert, yanking open the handle to the oven and fanning out the flames with a random oven mitt he had hastily grabbed for. Beads of sweat are developing on his skin, before finally, you rush in, still hacking up a storm with a large pot of freezing water in your shaking hands.

     Nanami curses himself for ever appearing as informal, but then he remembers he’s infront of his significant other, he didn’t have to put on an act. His face relaxes, and he opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, but he’s paused- by you. You raise your palm up at him, the other hand opening up a window looking over the garden.

      “Nana.” he freezes completely, the affectionate nickname was specially reserved for confrontations like this. You spoke softly, which, for some reason, was significantly worse than you screaming into his ear. Your eyes follow suit, staring at his collar, loosening his tie. He winces, but Nanami’s not sure why he does. You had touched him millions of times, so why was it now that he didn’t accept it?

     “Yes, my love?” he finally breathes out, wrapping a strong, gentle arm around your waist just loosely. You place your thumb just below his lower lip, your index finger rubbing his plush lips all at the same time. The exchange is purely affectionate, yet, he’s still tense. 

    “What has gotten into you?” you murmur. 

    “I- Nothing, darling, I’ll bake another-” 

    “No.” is all you say before you grab him by the chin, unwavering. Usually, those piercing eyes of his are emotionless, something shocking. The eyes are the gateway to the soul, so why is it that it’s blocked off? But you guess it wasn’t the case here, he stared back with the same level of intensity, fear and peculiarity. You stay in that position for a little, savoring just how much you must mean to him, it wasn’t everyday he was vulnerable and let you inside.      Your breathing is heavy, eyelids heavy as well due to his routinely ruckus every night, but you’re determined to erase any trace there was left of that.       You kiss him. It’s sloppy, yet chaste. A fight for dominance usually occurs between the two of you, and almost routinely, Nanami wins, but this time, he lets you do the work. 

   Your lips never once trail away from his own. Heavy breathing through nostrils, hands roaming where it shouldn’t at such an early time, but who gave a fuck about the rules? It wasn’t a workplace, and you’d never let it be one. He clings onto your figure, you savor his muscular physique. Not once do his hands not roam, your flesh was his, and his was yours. 

    Finally, you pull away, heat rising to your cheeks, tears are beginning to dawn on your glassy eyes. “I’ve listened to you roll around in bed every night, mumbling shit about how you don’t see why I’d want you. You better donate your eyes and brain to charity right now.” 

   This wasn’t the reaction, or beatdown he was expecting. He flinches at the vivid image he got of you gouging out his eyeballs. “...Why must I do that? 

   “Because, you don’t use them, obviously. If you took a fucking second of your life to look deeper into your personality below the surface level, you’d see how fucking amazing you are and I love you for that.” 

   Shaking your head furiously, you shush him up yet again when he finally decides to speak up, tears are beginning to spill down your cheeks. “Shut up, Nana. Shut. Up.” pulling him in for another kiss, your hands grabbing at his shoulder like he was going to let go. 

   But he never did.