#who would die for them at the drop of a hat

[chrisrin]

i'm not sorry.

[rpfisfine]

I’m still so fucking angry abt the death grips thing I wish ppl could treat artists like human beings

[foreveradreamaway]

helmets and hats- MV33/1

summary- the stress his father put on him never left his head, and neither does his helmet. only until you turn up with his lucky cap.

yes i know max won 2021, this is for the plot don’t come for me

Abu Dhabi 2021. the ride or die race for max and lewis. both of them just one race away from being the world champion. this was one of the biggest races of maxs life. this was what he had been waiting for his whole life. everything his father had put him through was for this. he could not mess this up.

but he did.

you stood in the room with all the engineers and important people who help to ensure maxs car runs perfectly throughout the entire race. you knew how much pressure max had been putting on himself in the weeks leading up to the race. spending 10 times more time at the race simulator and even more time working his body tirelessly to make sure it was race ready. you had watched hopelessly when he would do this many times before and knew this was just how he works. no protest from you will stop him, only make him work harder. he will come to you whenever he needs that little bit of comfort and reassurance, or even just a quick kiss to keep him motivated.

it was your favourite thing. knowing that he still needed you. he could be so deep in his own mind and would still seek you out. only you. he relied on you. for some things more than others, but he still did and you both knew it. he didn't always admit it, or want to, but you both knew. you were his main source of comfort and he couldn't go a day without it. he needed you in every sense of the word. he needed your love, he needed you there to remind him to pack enough socks when he goes away, he needed you to look after him when he was ill and most importantly he needed you there for the losses.

your heart drops when they cross the finish line, further than its ever dropped before. he wanted this so bad, needed it even. he had never lost a race this big before. but you were prepared, you would do the exact same as you did every other loss.

your feet carry you over to the intern whos specific job was to hold maxs hat. it was a very important hat and needed a whole person for it. you had had many interactions with the intern, retrieving his hat every time he lost. she gave you a knowing smile as you took the hat from her hands and went to meet max at you're usual spot.

he doesn't look at anyone as he exits the car and storms off. he physically cant. he doesn't even remove his helmet as he walks over to you, something you were already prepared for. his head is hung low as he approaches you, your hand immediately finding his shoulder. his feet stop in place, keeping his head down. the visor of his helmet was still all the way down so you couldn't make out the expression on his face.

he doesn't say anything as he places his hand softly over yours that sits on his shoulder. you knew not to push him at a time like this, letting him take your comfort when he needs. you stayed like that until you felt a sob rake his body. immediately wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms stayed at his side as you just held him. it wasn't often that he cried, but when he did, he did.

you weren't sure how long you stood there until his hands found your hips. you took this as your sign to move both your hands to his shoulders, finally speaking the words on your mind.

"you did so good baby" your hands moved to the sides of his helmet, attempting to lift it over his head but his hands quickly grabbed yours and brought them down in between the two of you. your face scrunching in compassion. lots of people knew what his father was like when max was younger, you more than most. the constant badgering and abuse never left his head, sticking with him throughout his life. as much as you comforted him and told him how proud you were of him, he always did the same thing after his losses. refusing to take his helmet off.

instead, you move to lift his visor up, catching a quick glimpse of his tear stained cheeks. you didn't see them for long before he quickly swiped it back down to cover his face again. your hand, once again, went back to swipe it up. his hand repeating his previous actions. smiles appeared on both your faces as you both kept up the act. his hand returning to yours when he heard a giggle escape your lips, allowing the visor to stay up. your laugh was his drug.

your head tilted to the side when you finally got to look at him. his cheeks slightly squished from the sides of his helmet and those slightly red eyes staring back at you, full of emotion.

"let me take your helmet off max" you whispered. his eyes shut as he shook his head, dropping it down again. you rested you forehead against the helmet in front of you. hands still gripping each others.

"you're safe baby, ive got you. its just me and you here." his head still didn't rise until you pressed a kiss to the top of his helmet. "im sorry" he croaked. your arms wrapped back around his neck to provide the comfort he desperately needed in that moment. the front of his helmet rested on your shoulder causing your head to tilt to the side, when it did you caught a glimpse of his oh so special hat.

you let go of one of maxs hands and leaned slightly to be able to grab the hat. as you did max slowly lifted his head up to see what you were doing and caught you with the hat in hand. a small smile appeared on his face when he noticed. it was always the small things that he loved about you. the fact that you noticed all the little things that comforted him made him feel so seen and loved in a way that he never had before.

you made eye contact with max and he gave you a small nod, approval to remove his helmet. your hands reached up to the sides of his head and slowly lifted it off. you placed it on the table where the hat had previously sat and moved back in front of max. one hand going to the back of his neck to carefully remove his under layer. you had never seen his face look sadder.

he closed his eyes and moved his head to rest between your neck and shoulder. this time you could feel the tears that were coming from his eyes. your heart breaking even more with every tear that fell.

"im so proud of you max" you whispered gently in his ear.

"i did so bad, schatje baby" his voice could barely be heard as he just felt too weak from everything. his body was filled with emotions that he didn't even know existed. the disappointment he felt was sickening and he didn't quite know how to deal with these feelings. the only thing he could do was cry in your arms.

"no way you didn't, you drove so well my love. that race was yours, it was a split second thing. there was nothing more you could have done. ive never been more proud of you than i am now max, everyone is so proud of you" you always tried your hardest to comfort him after a loss but he was stubborn and rarely actually took in what you said.

"not my dad" his voice was low, as if he didn't even want you to hear what he said. but you did. his father always loomed in the back of his mind no matter what he was doing. his fathers voice booming through his brain.

"he isn't here, no one else matters but me and you right now. im proud of you and thats all that matters. you've given this season your all, trust me i would know" a soft smile fell on your lips, max couldn't help but stare at your mouth as you talked. "you've spent countless hours in that bloody gym at home and did everything you could to make sure the best max was out on them tracks this season. i promise you max so many people will believe that you won this race and are standing behind you" his face had seemed to calm down a little now. his eyebrows no longer scrunched and his frown was slowly become flat.

his eye fell to the hat that was in your hand, your eyes doing the same. your smile got bigger as you knew what he wanted. you quickly secured the hat on its rightful place on maxs head. hats had slowly become a comfort for max. you would hardly ever see him without one, especially on race weekends. it became a shield between him and the scary eyes of the world. all he needed to do was tilt his head slightly down and he was alone and away from the chaos.

he quickly secured his lips to yours as his hands found the sides of your neck. your hands grabbing his wrists. he needed one final reassurance from you before he had to face the horrible questions of the media.

"go do what you need to do baby, call me and ill come find you. remember, im so proud of you." you placed a final kiss to his nose and cheek before he grabbed his helmet and began to make his way out the room. "you'll always be my champion max verstappen" you winked before he disappeared out the room.

he was a champion, he didnt need a trophy to prove it.

i hope you enjoyed my first max fic, many more to come. please send me requests i love hearing them

[sailoryooons]

Boyfriend Material | jjk (m)

☾ Pairing: Hockey Player!Jungkook x f. Reader 

☾ Summary: Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material – except when he is.  

☾ Word Count: 2,127

☾ Genre: FWB, Hint of Angst, Smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Friends with benefits who are very obviously pretending not to have feelings, being in a confusing relationship that is basically a relationship without titles, feelings of confusion and self-doubt, lying to oneself, mentions of some toxic interactions with other people/women, repressed feelings, explicit sexual content including oral (f. receiving) in the shower, honestly, in general, some very cliche/stereotypical conflict you’d find in a relationship with someone of status 

☾ Published: March 23, 2024

☾ A/N: This is a self-insert of one of the most confusing relationships I have ever had in my life and I will die on the hill that no one should date athletes because 98% of them are the rule, not the exception no matter how much they seem like it! TRAUMA!!! Also, should I have been dating a professional athlete for the sport I worked in? No!!!! This is for all the people who have been in a not-relationship-that-is-a-relationship why the fuck do people do that like it is okay to have feelings and call ur partner ur partner?? 

☾ A/N 2: This is drabble number six for the Drabble Challenge that I have been utterly failing at! Today I rolled for ‘athlete’ but I didn’t feel like writing actual sports so I was like :) I worked in sports for ten years, I can just share a glimpse of my life when I was 23 years old :) Enjoy 

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration

“Fuck, I’m so tired,” Jungkook groans, leaning back in the chair and stretching his arms. Sun beats down on his golden skin. You feel the heat of it on your back and the top of your head. It’s pleasant, the cool spring breeze threatening to send the napkins on the table running. “Wanna lay out at the pool?”

Finishing the rest of your coffee, you nudge the empty plate away from you. Where once an eggs benedict had stood is now smears of leftover yolk and a single onion you missed when eating your hashbrowns. 

“Not sick of me?” you ask, raising a brow. 

Jungkook isn’t looking at you, scrolling on his phone. The bill of his hat is pulled low, hiding most of his face as he squints down at the device held low in his lap. You wait patiently for his answer, running your finger up and down the now-empty glass as it sweats from the sun. 

“Nope,” he answers, popping the end of the word sharply. “Did you ever get your desk fixed? Yoongi said he would fix it if not.”

“I have not.” 

He nods. “He said he’ll swing by this afternoon. We can lay out at the pool at my place and then head to yours after?” 

Your mouth twitches. You don’t say it out loud because you don’t want to risk him backing out, but another full day spent with Jungkook is a surprise to you. Not because it doesn’t happen often – it does. But rather because it keeps happening more often.

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. He’d established that the first night he met you at a bar. Him being a professional athlete was a warning sign enough that you didn’t want to romance that but what had come afterward has been nothing short of surprising. 

Friendship and… well. You don’t know how to explain the extras. 

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. But you do your groceries together on the weekend. You drop him off at the arena when they’re heading out for a road trip. You take him to doctor's appointments to monitor the knee injury from last season. 

You’re not Jungkook’s girlfriend but he takes you to team events. He lets himself in and does your laundry at your apartment while you’re at work so you don’t have to do it when you come home. He has his teammates fix furniture for you and they’ve asked you to babysit their kids. 

“Babe?” the endearment makes you blink a few times, realizing you’d been staring into your lap. Jungkook’s dark eyes are focused on you now, phone shoved into his pocket. “We don’t have to go to the pool. We can just nap.”

We. Not you. Jungkook is going to hang out with you regardless if you like his original idea or not. Your stomach flips in that way you hate, the way that you know you’re doing everything you said you wouldn’t.

“Sounds good.” 

Jungkook flashes a grin and you become acutely aware that thinking you could be friends with benefits without being anything more was a stupid idea. Jungkook is not made to be resisted, with round eyes that darken when he’s turned on, a giggle that contrasts with the big, broad-shouldered athlete built, a smile that lights up the room and can dispel any tension, a sweet voice that can tempt anyone the moment he pouts or when he decides to pur. 

You were fucked - literally and figuratively - that first night you let him in your apartment. 

Instead of thinking about it, you hide from the truth. Again. Jungkook is not boyfriend material, despite the fact that he pays for breakfast despite your protests, and reaches over the center console in the car to squeeze your thigh. 

“Mmm,” he hums, fingers skating over your flash and making you squirm in the passenger seat. “Warm.”

“I was sitting in the sun.”

“I like it.”

Jungkook likes a lot about you. He tells you all the time, very open about how he likes the way you taste, likes the way you organize your books by color, likes the way you sing in the shower, likes the way you speak in Star Wars quotes. 

Perhaps that’s what makes you the most wary about him. He says he’s not boyfriend material, but his actions betray his words. And you let them, every single time. 

Jungkook smells like sunscreen, sweat, and a little bit of his cologne from earlier that morning. You’re hyperaware of him as you lounge on the cabana bed together, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his firm body. 

His tattooed arm is tossed over his eyes, blocking out the sun as he snores a little. Careful not to knock into him, you lean over him and grab his phone to check the time. You haven’t been lounging in the sun long, but you don’t want him to get a sunburn.

Again. 

You wager you can stay a little longer, placing the phone back down under his discarded shirt where it can hide from the sun’s heat. Sitting back in your spot, you pick up your book from your sweaty thighs as the sound of the gate to the pool yard opening catches your attention. 

Some of Jungkook’s teammates live in the same apartment complex. It’s easier that way, especially for the players who get sent up and down from the minors. You catch a few of the younger players with a few girls you don’t know the name of tugging a cooler on wheels behind them with a speaker blaring. 

Jungkook doesn’t so much as move. He can sleep through anything – has slept through you falling into his gaming setup while trying to get to the bathroom drunk. His slumbering leaves you to watch them head to the beds a few over from yours. 

One of the girls notices you. You don’t recognize her specifically, but she recognizes Jungkook. Looks back at you. Frowns and mutters something to one of the other girls, who is not very subtle as she cranks her head around in your direction. 

You don’t wince anymore. It’s not an uncommon thing, among these circles. You refuse to engage with any of it. You used to tell yourself it was because a casual whatever-Jungkook-is simply isn’t worth the drama. At night, you know you don’t engage with it because you don’t want to know. 

Ignorance is bliss, especially in this dangerously plastic world Jungkook exists in. 

Thankfully, you’re not alone in the matter. Jimin appears out of thin air, dropping down on the empty bed next to you. Namjoon – arguably Jimin’s better half and team captain – is nowhere to be found. Jimin lowers his shades and looks beyond you to the group of now rowdy players. 

“Gross,” he huffs. He slides his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and stretches out on the bed like a cat. Jimin doesn’t play, but he certainly has the body of an athlete, all fine lines and corded muscle. “Ignore them.”

“I was doing that already.” You lift your book as if to prove yourself.

He snorts. “You were thinking about it, be honest.” Your silence is answer enough and Jimin grins, lacing his hands behind his head as he tilts toward the sun. “Don’t let Jungkookie burn again.”

“I’m not,” you huff before snapping your book shut. Jimin is in the circle of player’s partners that you genuinely enjoy, but he has the keen ability to get under your skin and tell you all of the truths that you don’t want to be voiced out loud. Still, having him on your side has more benefits than just keeping the hyenas away from you. He’s also genuinely nice when he wants to be. “Jungkook, wake up.”

The man mumbles and turns his head away from you. You sigh heavily, squeezing his strong, very sweaty arm gently. “Come on, you’re gonna burn if you stay out here any longer.”

“Mm. Feels nice.”

“A sunburn won’t feel nice.”

“You can rub aloe all over me.”

“I will not.”

“Just five more minutes.”

“Jeon.” 

He drops his arm from his eyes, squinting in the bright light at you. His hair is damp with sweat and hangs in his eyes. He’s been growing it out longer and longer, especially since Seokjin keeps encouraging Jungkook by telling him he has the best flow on the team. 

“So you don’t want to rub aloe all over me?”

“You don’t need to get sunburned for me to touch you, Jungkook.”

“Bleh,” Jimin grunts. 

That makes Jungkook sit up, rolling his shoulders and twisting to pop his back. He sighs for a moment, closing his eyes as though willing himself to get up. When he opens them again, there’s a light in them and he smirks, looking you up and down.

“Wanna shower?”

Your mouth twitches and you roll your eyes to hide how much you want to shiver. “Come on,” you sigh, getting up, the fabric of the sunbed clinging to your sweaty skin. 

Eyes cling to you as you pull the sundress over your head and slide your sandals on. You don’t have to glance over at the mini-party a few sunbeds over to know you’re being watched. You suppose they’re watching Jungkook more than anything, but you’re in direct view behind him, grabbing your book. 

You know Jungkook notices them. He says nothing, though. Instead, he offers his hand out when you shove all your belongings in a bag, wanting to carry it. You grin and hand it over to him, smile growing as he shoulders it easily and offers his hand again, this time for you to take.

And you do take it. Perhaps the satisfaction that thrums through you as he leads you out of the pool yard and onto the deck that crosses the lake toward his apartment building is a little bit insidious. You don’t care. The momentary triumph that you shouldn’t be feeling at all is far too powerful and Jungkook’s hand is far too warm and safe in yours to care about why you feel good about the public display of affection.

It isn’t like he hasn’t done it before. Jungkook isn’t shy with others in front of you. It’s what makes the whole thing worse, somehow. Because Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he introduces you to people and friends and slides between your legs to lean on you when you’re sitting on a barstool. He holds your hand when you go on a lunch and shopping spree with your mom and he brings her coffee and flowers. 

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but you don’t care when the shower hits the warm skin and runs down your back as he presses your chest to the cold shower wall in front of you. The cool stone stings against your nipples, over-sensitive and sending a shiver down your spine as your eyes flutter shut. 

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he curses low under the sound of the shower as he pries your legs apart, tongue seeking the heat between them hungrily. Your mouth falls open as Jungkook’s tongue licks you soft-slow, lips sucking gently against your clit. 

“Shit,” you hiss. The difference in temperatures between the hot water and the cold wall makes the room spin. Steam makes it harder to breathe, your head pleasure-dizzy as Jungkook laughs and rolls his tongue lazily around your dripping cunt. “Fuck.”

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he eats you out slow and hungry. He doesn’t care that the water starts to lose its warmth as his mouth works you, smacking his lips loudly and moaning, vibrations going straight to your core where you drip on his soft tongue. 

His hands grip your ass, fingers digging into the flesh as he pries you apart further, tongue delving into your aching hole. He slurps at you, mouth loud and sticky over the sound of your panting and the water hitting the tile floor. His little hums of appreciation buzz through you, making the room spin.

“Fuck,” you whisper, pressing your cheek to the wet, cold stone as you try to ground yourself. You twist an arm backward, gripping Jungkook’s wet hair. He lets out a loud groan in appreciation, always pleased when you pull on his hair. “Don’t stop.”

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material, but he does whatever you want him to. His tongue delves in, working you to orgasm until you’re shaking against the wall, knees knocking together and nearly collapsing on him. He catches you easily, standing and pressing you against the wall as he grabs your chin and brings your mouth toward him, his to devour.

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material. 

But more than anything, you want him to be. 

[whimsicalazriel]

fae in a china shop → Azriel x female!reader

summary: in which Azriel’s mate is clumsy

warnings: it gets a little spicy towards the end, just kissing lol. just pure tooth rotting fluff otherwise! a few spoilers

word count: 2k yay

a/n: thank you so much for the support on the first one-shot, it means the world to me 🤍

masterlist

Azriel was sure he’d have a heart attack the first time he met you. The market in Velaris was as usual filled to the brim with fae shopping last minute for winter solstice, and there you were, appearing to argue with a market stall owner, fruits of all kinds on the ground by your feet, some continuing to roll down the icy street.

The bond snapped into place, almost bringin the spymaster to his knees. You were the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. You wore a thick long coat, a few sizes too big, the sleeves falling over your gloved hands. On your head was a hat, homemade or old as loose pieces of yarn stood straight out. He found it endearing.

“Ah,” You groaned, not feeling the heavy gaze of the Illyrian a few meters away, his shadows dancing around him as if they’re containing themselves from reaching out to you. “I’m sorry,” you sounded flustered as you kneeled down to pick them up, a few rolling off your arms and into the crowd.

Azriel was frozen on the spot, his mind reeling. After 500 years he finally found you. He felt his shoulders slump in pure relief.

His shadows hissed at him to go and help his mate, but as much as he tried to move; he couldn’t. He felt foolish.

“My mother almost forbade me from going to the market today–gods knows I’m clumsy.” You joked awkwardly as you stood with an armful of fruits. “Do-how-do I just,” you gestured towards the box of fruits. “Drop them in there?”

The stall owner nodded, dumbfounded as he stared at you. You awkwardly bent over and opened your arms, letting them fall into the box. Azriel wasn’t sure if he was worried or amused as he watched you fumble.

A sigh of relief left your lips as you backed away. “Best get going before I accidentally start a fire.” You joked, choosing to ignore the horrified expression of the stall owner.

Azriel’s feet finally decided to work as he took careful steps towards you, his shadows hissing out warnings as you backed away into the crowd, not being mindful of the stray fruits and patches of ice.

Azriel quickly found himself behind you, grabbing ahold of your shoulder when your feet left the ground with a small shriek. “Careful.” He breathed out, his chest aflamed as his hands held you against him.

You turned around, a small sheepish smile on your lips. Azriel wanted to die. You were absolutely perfect.

“Gods, thank you! It would be quite embarrassing if I fell and cracked my head open.” You snorted.

Azriel winced at the image conjured in his head, “You’re welcome.” He smiled, his wings tucked in tight as he simply looked at you. He never knew how strongly felt the bond would be. He felt like an asshole for keeping Elain away from Lucien. And suddenly he found himself admiring the emissary, who kept a straight head on his shoulder despite it all.

He watched as your eyes widened, your lips pursing. “Oh.” Dread began to build up in his chest, the voices of his dead brothers coming back to haunt and taunt him.

“I-“ you began before clearing your throat. “This has never happened before,” you said softly before snorting, a big smile growing on your lips. “Obviously.”

Azriel found himself breathing out with a smile. “Would you like some company?” He softly asked, his shadows slithering towards you, not yet touching you.

You nodded quickly, holding back your excitement. He was definitely the most beautiful male you’ve ever seen, and he was your mate.

He held out his scarred hand, a small twinge of insecurity in his stomach which quickly was stomped down as you grabbed his hand without a second thought.

.･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙ .･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙

Azriel had proudly introduced you to the inner circle, ignoring Cassian’s grin and wriggling eyebrows. You were nervous, hands shaking as you all dined in the river house. You had already spilled the glass of expensive tasting wine, much to everyone’s amusement. Azriel held your hand under the table for the rest of the night, his thumb caressing your skin.

You were a nervous wreck when you stepped into the home of the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court. But Rhysand and Feyre welcomed you with open arms.

“So, finally we get to meet the spymaster's mate.” Cassian spoke, Nesta sitting quietly beside him, observing you, a small smile on her lips every time you dropped something. She found you endearing to watch.

Whilst Azriel was quiet, walking in shadows to stay hidden, you tumbled around like a fawn, loud yet shy. She couldn’t get enough. She decided that night that you would leave the house being her friend.

And she was right.

Nesta, to everyone's surprise, had seemingly taken you under her wing, introducing you to her books, books you were ashamed to read but couldn’t put down. She found herself adoring your quiet yet clumsy presence, weird sense of clothing style and quickly introduced you to Gwyn and Emerie.

You had yet to formally accept the bond, both agreeing to getting to know each other the traditional way; dates and picnics by the Sidra.

Azriel knew he had fallen for you when he came to your apartment for the first time. He waited as he heard you running towards the door. “Coming!” Your voice was faint but his heart reacted the same way it always does. A thud shook the door before you opened it with a flustered smile.

“Hi!” You greeted him. Azriel could feel himself staring to laugh. “Are you okay?” He asked, gesturing to the red old door. “Oh-yeah, I tripped on the carpet.” You laughed and quickly invited him into your cluttered home.

He couldn’t imagine a place that would represent you better than your home. Mismatched furniture and carpets layered on top of each other. It was the most cozy apartment he’d seen. It smelled faintly of vanilla and there were candles on every surface.

A roll of tangled yarn laid on the floor. You saw him looking at it, and felt yourself getting more flustered. “I picked it up as a hobby a few months ago, and then it got tangled so I gave up. I did make a hat though.” You smiled proudly. If he wasn’t in love with you before, he definitely was now.

He found himself thinking back to when he first saw you. The hat that caught his attention.

You grabbed his hand and dragged him to the kitchen. “Come sit, my parents are on the way.”

Azriel’s eyes widened. “What?” He sat down on the rickety chair, adjusting his wings to get comfortable.

“Yeah.” You nodded, rushing around the kitchen to prepare something easy to eat. “It’s only fair since I met your family.” Azriel’s eyes widened further as he watched you prepare the food. ‘Is she accepting the bond?’ He thought to himself.

“Um, darling…” He began softly, standing up to walk up behind you. His hands found themselves on your hips, squeezing softly as he rested his chin on your shoulder, breathing you in.

You hummed in acknowledgment, trying to regulate your breathing. “You’re preparing me food.” He murmured. You nodded in agreement, slightly confused.

Azriel’s sigh blew hot air over your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “It’s what one does when accepting the bond.” He explained, his lips touching your skin with each word spoken.

You froze before asking tentatively, “Is it okay if I am?” Your hands shook. “I just-I really want my parents to meet you before accepting the bond.”

A groan left Azriel’s lips and he tugged you towards him. “Fuck, I love you.” He admitted with a soft laugh. You turned around in his arms to face him, your hands grabbing ahold of his neck to meet his lips with yours, but a knock halted the both of you.

Azriel’s forehead rested on yours, his hair tickling your skin. “It’s them,” you breathed out, before detaching yourself from the Shadowsinger to open the door.

Azriel couldn’t believe his eyes when your parents stepped in. He now knew where your sense of style came from. Your mother wore a green overall with a mustard yellow sweater tied around her waist. Your father also wore an overall, though it was definitely more sun bleached. On his head was an old ratty hat, hiding his unruly hair.

Azriel would never dream of ever saying someone’s parents looked interesting, but yours did.

He took notice that you and your father shared the same smile, but your eyes were definitely your mothers. Warm and loving.

A shriek left your mother as she sprung towards Azriel, her arms wide open to embrace him. He stood awkwardly, not knowing if he should hug her back. He wasn’t used to any platonic affection that came from outside the inner circle. He wasn’t sure how to feel.

“Mother,“ you groaned, “we talked about this. Personal space-“

“Personal space,” your mother finished the sentence with a huff and a glint in her eyes. “Yes, of course, but he’s so handsome!”

Your father laughed, a deep from the belly one as he looked at Azriel. “If he wasn’t so big I would've fought him for that.” He joked, before walking up to slap Azriel’s shoulder with wince. “He’s very strong.” He said approvingly.

.･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙ .･:*:･ﾟ’✫,’✫’ﾟ･:*:･˙

Your parents ended up staying for three hours, though neither of you minded. Azriel quickly warmed up to them, though a bitter taste of jealousy coated his tongue when he found himself comparing his childhood to yours.

Your father was a local fisherman whilst your mother was a bartender on certain weekends. It was all fascinating for the spymaster, who’s lived anything but an ordinary life. It was nice to imagine himself with you that way. No war, no cauldron or High Lords, just you and him.

He noticed that you and your father shared the same clumsiness as the older man knocked the kettle over after tripping over the yarn.

Your mother laughed softly with the look of raw love in her eyes. “It’s never an ordinary day with those two around.” She gestured towards you and your father as you fussed over your broken kettle.

Azriel found himself laughing along.

The moment the door closed you quickly forced Azriel to take a seat at the table once more. You sat beside him with a nervous look in your eyes.

His eyes never left yours as you fed him piece after piece of the homemade bread. You felt whole after he finished the last piece.

“I love you, Azriel, so much that it hurts.” He could only stand up and lift you on the table, ignoring the clatter of porcelain. He grabbed your neck and pressed his lips to yours. The bond stretching between the two of you, lighting up like a beacon.

His shadows caressed your skin, their cool touch leaving you gasping for air. He laughed into the kiss and tugged you closer so that he was snug between your legs. The kiss felt never ending as though time was simply a suggestion. “The bed,” you gasped between kisses.

Azriel nodded before he paused, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Where is your bed?”

You stole a few more kisses, “left door by the kitchen,”

Azriel hummed into your lips, his tongue dancing with yours as he picked you up, your thighs around his waist as he navigated through your apartment whilst kissing you like his life depended on it; which to him, it did.

He laid you softly down on the plush bed, and he took note of the three different duvets with a chuckle.

He sighed in pleasure as your lips found themselves on his neck, kissing, sucking and biting on his warm tan skin. The taste of him was like nothing you’ve ever experienced and you were willing to never stop kissing him.

Azriel grabbed ahold of your chin, his lips meeting yours in desperation.

“I will never let you go.” He murmured against your lips, his hazel eyes shining silver.

“I will never let you go either.”

Nesta could beat me up and I would thank her for it.

[nyoomfruits]

osctober day thirty one

prompt: halloween pairing: lando/oscar word count: 1200w

“Lando,” Oscar says, when he makes his way into the living room to drop his work bag next to the couch. “Why is my baby dressed as a pumpkin?”

Becca is in her little baby playpen banging a few blocks together, dressed in a felt pumpkin suit. There’s even a little hat with a stalk on top perched on her little blond curls. “Da,” she says, when she spots Oscar.

“Hi love,” Oscar says, picking her up and snuggling her closing, earning him another, more decisive “Da!”

“Oscar!” Lando says, appearing from the kitchen. “I can explain.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow, putting his daughter back down. “Can you?”

Lando bites at his lip. He has a spatula in hand, which means he’s attempting to cook dinner again, which means Oscar needs to make this as short as possible so he can make his way into the kitchen and salvage whatever is going on there.

“It’s Halloween?” Lando eventually settles on. “And like. I don’t. I’m not overstepping, or like, I don’t want to overstep, but I just thought. It’s her first you know. I think she should go out trick or treating.”

“She’s fourteen months,” Oscar states, but he’s mostly amused.

“Yeah? So? It’s Halloween, Oscar,” Lando says. Something in the kitchen beeps, and Lando quietly curses under his breath, making his way in there. Oscar throws one last look to Becca, who’s gone back to banging blocks together, and follows Lando into the kitchen.

“Maybe it’s time to revoke your babysitting privileges,” Oscar says, leaning against the doorway and watching Lando flit through the kitchen. There’s a pasta sauce bubbling away in a pot, next to one filled with pasta. It doesn’t seem disastrous yet, so Oscar’s happy to lean back and watch.

“Oh, please,” Lando says. “You would die without you convenient next door neighbor who works from home and loves your kid and is therefor willing to watch her whenever you need someone.”

Unfortunately, this is true. For reasons other than just the convenience, too. Like the way Lando smiles at him sometimes. Or the way Lando’s eyes sparkle in the sunlight. Embarrassing stuff like that.

“You really want to go trick or treating with her?” Oscar asks.

“We are going trick or treating with her,” Lando says, grinning at Oscar, clearly feeling like he’s won something here. “I have matching outfits.”

The matching outfits, thankfully, are just headbands with little pumpkins on bouncy springs. Oscar is pretty sure he looks ridiculous, especially next to Lando, who somehow makes the damned things look cute.

There really is no going back now, so after they finish their pasta, they put Becca’s coat on under her little pumpkin suit, don their stupid little headbands, and head to their first house.

Which is when things get kind of. Weird.

“Oh, your family is so cute,” The first lady says, as she deposits a few pieces of candy in the little bag Lando is holding. “Reminds me of my own daughter and her husband. Precious. Have a good night.”

“Uh,” Lando says, but she’s already closing the door.

Oscar adjusts Becca on his hip, mostly so he kind hide the blush on his face. “On to the next one?” He says quickly, mostly hoping that means Lando won’t bring it up.

“Yeah,” Lando says, still staring at the now closed door. “Yeah, next one.”

But at the next one, roughly the same thing happens. And the Next one. And the next one.

Oscar is coping with this wonderfully, mostly by pretending none of this is happening and no one is actually confusing them for some kind of cute young family rather than for what they are, which is two totally platonic neighbors who are friends who are trick or treating with one of the neighbors kids.

It’s going swimmingly, if he says so himself, even though is heart aches at the thought. Becca, entire unaware, babbles happily in his arms and tries to grab at the pumpkins on his headband.

Lando is quiet, too, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t correct anyone and that’s. Something, right? Nothing, for sure. But.

But.

Except then he does say something, when an young mom smiles at them and says, “Oh, what an adorable little family you have. My kid is her age, too. It’s the best, isn’t it?”

“We aren’t-“ Lando blurts, a little too loud, making Becca startle a little as she looks at him with wide eyes. “A family. I’m just. We’re not. Together. That’s his kid. She’s not. She’s not mine.”

Oscar doubts that. Becca thinks the sun shines out of Lando’s ass on most days. She’s just as much Lando’s as she is Oscar’s, but that’s. That’s dangerous territory, he thinks.

“Oh,” the woman says, a little taken aback. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Lando says, smiles tiredly. It must’ve been bothering him more than Oscar thought. Oscar tries not to be too hurt about that. “Have a good night,” he says, and stalks off the porch.

“You too?” The lady says, but Lando’s already gone. Oscar smiles awkwardly at her, and then follows Lando as quickly as he can with Becca in his arms.

“Hey,” he says, when he catches up.

“Hey,” Lando says, not looking at him, setting a pretty brutal pace. “Let’s go back to the apartments, yeah?”

“Okay,” Oscar says, noting how he says apartments, plural. Nothing how he doesn’t say home.

They walk in silence, for a bit, Becca dozing off on Oscar’s shoulder, before Lanod finally speaks again.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“For what,” Oscar says, confused. He doesn’t think Lando has anything to apologize for. If he’s uncomfortable being linked to Oscar as a husband, that’s. I mean. He’s allowed to feel those feelings, even if they hurt.

“I just. I’ve been inserting myself in Becca’s life, in your life, and this should have been a cute little milestone, her first Halloween, and instead you spend the whole time listening to people thinking we’re like, what. Together?” Lando is still not looking at him, aggressively biting at his lip.

Oscar takes a moment, unpacks everything Lando’s just said, tries to think of the right thing to say. Eventually he settles on. “We wouldn’t have had Becca’s first Halloween if not for you.”

When Lando finally turns to look at him, if only to send him a confused look, Oscar continues. “You got her the outfit. You got the headbands. I was just going to spend the night inside giving candy away to kids, but you made it special. So you’re not inserting yourself. If anything, I think you’re making her life much, much better.” And then, because he feels like it’s important Lando knows, even though it will probably not lead anywhere, “Also I don’t mind. When people think we’re together.”

“Oh,” Lando says. “You don’t? I mean. I don’t, either.” They’ve stopped, in the middle of the walkway, staring at each other over Becca’s head.

“Good? That’s. That’s good,” Oscar says, a little unsure all of a sudden. If this means what he thinks it means…

“Oh fudge it,” Lando says, and leans forward, softly presses his lips to Oscar’s. It’s a little awkward, with Becca still snoozing happily between them, but it’s the most perfect kiss Oscar’s ever gotten. When Lando pulls away, he’s smiling, a smile Oscar is sure is mirrored on his own face. “Let’s go home, yeah?” He says.

“Home,” Lando says, nods. Shakes his head like he can’t quite believe it.

They can’t hold hands, because Oscar’s are still occupied, but Lando’s hand finds a place at the small of his back, and that’s just as magical, Oscar thinks, as they slowly start making their way home.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Based on that post of Mafia!Konig x reader who borrowed money and pays him back with their body whenever they’re late on payments, but skips to the day that reader manages to pay him back in full and finds themselves in a better financial situation, not needing to borrow money from him anymore. Cue to him freaking out and finding ways to get them back under his hold.

Konig doesn't like it. Not one bit. Even if you weren't sleeping with him, losing such a perfect specimen would be bad for his business. The money you owed didn't really matter - it wasn't something in millions like with hia richer clients. Oh no - he builds his criminal empire on control and favors. Having people under his thumb is much more important than getting a few thousand in his pocket. He needs you to be under his full control - so when you actually manage to get all of your debt in check and give him money back... Konig invents math. Criminal math(like all math isn't criminal already). Percents and interest and loans that he learns to count in a way that would render you physically unable to get the money in time even if you somehow find a golden goose or something. And, well, let's not forget that the guy is a literal criminal. He isn't above simply kidnapping you and forcing you to be his little stress toy - he has enough safe houses to store you in, and he loves the feeling of your lips around his cock too much to just let you go. He might let you roam free for a few weeks, maybe even a month or so - if you aren't immediately switching countries and staying in Austria, he would let his favorite little borrow to have her alone time. This is a tough break in your relationships (or a nightmare, like you call it`), but silly girls need to have illusions of freedom before their scary criminal daddies will get them. He can allow to leave you for a month or two - he prepares everything to get you back in one of his secluded properties. Probably somewhere outside of the country - just to make sure that the government there is corrupt enough to ignore your pleas for help and that he has enough criminal connections to make sure you won't run. So...yeah, if you don't want to live and die in Bratislava, you should be a good girl for him and don't run. Just make sure that he is satisfied with having you remotely independent - because this man is insecure and anxious enough to force you to live with him at a drop of a hat.

[gators-aid]

decode (pt. 2) - toji f. x reader

previously titled: leave us

masterlist.

part one. | part three.

you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.

tags: fem!reader, gun violence, harassment, physical violence, mention of domestic abuse (not between toji & reader), teen pregnancy (reader and toji are both 18-19 range), mentions of abortion, mentioned that toji sold drugs, americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, toji initially denies megumi is his, i aged up gojo, geto, and shoko so you can have some frens, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(

wc: 2.7k

4 years later..

You pull Megumi’s hat over his ears to protect them from the cold and squeeze his body closer in your arms. “My mom can’t watch him today, she’s got a doctor's appointment. Shoko and Geto are working right now, too! I promise he won’t cause any trouble. He can sit in a booth while I’m working. Pleeeease, Nanami! You know he’s a good kid!” You beg your boss. He looks down at you and your son, contemplating which rules this would violate. 

It’s Gojo who comes to your defense.

“Come on Nanamiiii, I can help her keep an eye on him! You won’t have any problems, my Megumi is the sweetest little thing, aren’t you baby? Aren’t you?” He leans over to squeeze Megumi’s cheek until Megumi turns his head into your chest to escape Gojo’s teasing. 

Gojo had taken up working at the diner with you after he dropped out of college on account of, “My family has enough money for me to never have to work again. Why would I waste it in college when I can spend my youth working a minimum wage job for fun?”

You and Shoko had punched him in the face for that one. 

“Any disruptions to the customers and you’ll have to figure something else out, Y/N. This is a one time thing. Gojo, don’t let the kid be a distraction to you. You need to stop forgetting you have tables all the time.” You smile and give Gojo a victory high five. “Are you excited to spend the day with mama, Megumi?”

Megumi had turned four a couple of weeks ago. You two now lived in your own modest apartment. It was close to your mother’s house and your job. Usually your mother would keep Megumi for you during work hours, and when that wasn’t available Gojo, Geto, or Shoko would help you out. With all four contenders busy, there was no choice but for you to bring Megumi with you to work. Babysitters and daycare were out of the question on your salary of shitty tips. You could barely afford the apartment. The only way you could get furniture into it was on a loan from Gojo (which he refused to let you pay back). 

You, Nanami and Gojo walk into the back of the building through the kitchen to punch in. “Our little Megumi’s gonna be joining us today!” Gojo announces to the kitchen staff, mainly comprised of high school students and Hakari. You hear various coos as you walk Megumi through the kitchen. “Can you say ‘hi,’ baby?” You whisper to Megumi through his knitted hat. 

He pulls his face from the interior of your sweater and meekly waves to the staff, who all burst into bright smiles. There had been a few times your mother had brought Gumi to the diner to see you during hours, meaning the staff had not only heard of, but had seen Megumi around quite a bit. 

Megumi, unlike his father, was incredibly shy and quiet even for his young age. He was one of the best babies you could ever ask for. He cried of course, even had a nasty case of colic when he was little, but on average he cried far less than a normal kid. For a while you were concerned, bringing him to every doctor your insurance would allow to get second opinion after second opinion. Their conclusion? It’s just his personality. 

"It seems like he cried all his tears out during his first couple of weeks!" One doctor had joked. Yeah, so had you.

Every time you looked at Megumi, you saw Toji. Their resemblance was undeniable. Sometimes it felt as if he hadn’t inherited a single genetic trait from you. Some days, it made you more sad than others. You hadn’t seen any baby pictures of Toji, didn’t think his family even owned any, but if you had to guess, Megumi had to be the spitting image. You’d see old classmates you hadn’t talked to in years only for them to comment on how much they resembled each other. Not knowing about you and Toji's dramatic breakup.

You and Gojo punch in and take off your coats to hang them up on the rack. Yuki, one of your newer coworkers, bursts through the door with a few empty water glasses. “Agh, thank god you two are here!” She exclaims, setting them down by the sink. “I’ve got this table of guys that are driving me batshit. The kitchen guys don’t get it. I need a freakin’ break.” 

You giggle at her and take off Megumi’s hat from where you’re holding him on your hip. “I can take the next one!” You hang up Megumi’s hat next to your coat. “Just let me get him situated.” Yuki gasps and runs over to you. “Hi Megumi! I’ve heard so much about you! It’s nice to meet you, I’m Yuki! Oh my god, Y/N he’s so freakin’ cute!” She exclaims. 

Gojo and Yuki get to talking shit about her table while you walk out onto the floor to choose a booth for Megumi to sit. You choose the one furthest from the door and closest to the kitchen and set him down on a side where you’ll be able to see him clearly for the majority of your shift. “Okay Gumi, I’m gonna be working but I’m gonna come over and check on you a lot too, okay?” You set your bag next to him and pull out a few toys and a coloring book. “I’ll get the kitchen guys to sneak you some food, okay?” He nods and grabs a blue crayon from his half empty box. “Okay, mama.” He replies in the sweetest voice you've ever heard.

You give him a kiss on his forehead and move a piece of his hair behind his ear before moving to the other side of the booth and adjusting your waist apron. “Y/N, you got table three.” Yuki announced. You looked behind you to see Gojo and Yuki approaching Megumi’s table. “Megumiiiii! What are you coloring?” Gojo slid into the seat next to Megumi and his toys. 

“How many?” You asked Yuki. “Just two.” She responded, “The one guy’s hot, maybe you could get laid tonight.” You scoffed. “First of all, don’t say shit like that on the floor when we have customers who may hear you.” You give her a pointed look, “secondly, you’re too young to be talking about intercourse. You’re like twelve.” You smile at her and turn around to go greet your table. 

“I’m literally 18!” Yuki exclaims as you walk away.

“Exactly the point!” Gojo responds for you.

You pull out your server book as you approach your table and click your pen. “Hi, I’m Y/N, welcome to-” when you look up, you freeze. 

First, you see Jinichi, Toji’s brother. When your eyes move over to the other side of the booth, you see him in the flesh for the first time in five years. 

He’s looking down at the table, so you can’t see his face, but from his build alone you can see he’s almost doubled in muscle mass since you last saw him. His hair is longer, bangs falling over his eyes, and he sports a black muscle tee to show off how much he has bulked up over the years. He's intentionally avoiding your gaze.

All the feelings you’ve felt over these five years, anger, rage, resentment, loss, pain, sadness. They all come rushing back at once. Five years of wondering what he was up to while you stayed up with Megumi as a newborn when he had colic and wouldn’t stop crying for almost a month straight. As you operated on auto pilot and almost cried when you saw him smile again. As you cared for him through his first flu, which you had eventually caught too. Rushing him to the hospital for a slight rise in temperature as your mother convinced you over the phone that everything would be okay and you sobbed hysterically. When Megumi took his first steps, when he said his first word. You always thought of Toji. 

How would he have reacted? You may not have trusted him, but you don’t think he’d be a particularly bad father if he were to put in the effort. Every time Megumi smiles, every time he frowns, it looks like Toji has walked right back into your life. When you two talked about kids, it was never very serious. You always talked about the idyllic. How many you’d have, what their names would be, if you’d move out to the countryside so they’d have space to play. You never discussed how you wanted to raise them, how you two would afford it, if Toji would stop dealing.

“Well, well, fucking well!” Jinichi starts. “This is just fucking hilarious!” You can see Toji tense up where his elbows rest on the table. Jinichi leaned back in his seat looking back and forth between you and Toji. “High school fucking sweethearts! Look at this shit, Toji, that's your girl right there! Hey Y/N-” Before Jinichi can finish his sentence, Toji bangs his hands on the table, making the condiment bottles rattle loudly, and bringing the entire restaurant's attention towards the three of you. Toji mumbles something under his breath that you can’t pick up. You’re still physically frozen in place.

Jinichi had always been an asshole. Toji didn’t like you to go over to his house for multiple reasons relating to his family, but one of the major ones was because of his brother. Jinichi always had a smart mouth. Liked to put dumb ideas in Toji’s head, one of which was the one that eventually got him shot and bleeding out on your bedsheets.

“Ahh, come on little brother. You’re so intense nowadays. We’re here for a good ol-”

“We’re here for fucking business, Jinichi. Shut the fuck up. We don’t want nothin’.” Toji says, finally addressing you without even looking your way. You feel someone grab onto your shoulder and quickly turn to see Gojo. He gently pulls you away from the table. 

“I- I didn’t-” you begin, before Gojo can even get you five feet from the table, Jinichi is back at it. “Hey, what the hell, don’t take my waitress! I ain’t ordered nothin’ yet! Hey Y/N, you look good by the way! Usually girls get ugly after they have babies!” 

It’s so sudden and quick that if you weren’t five steps away, you wouldn’t have seen it at all. Toji leans over the table, somehow calmly and aggressively at the same time, to grab his brother by the collar of his shirt. “That’s enough. Don’t make me fucking tell you again.” He says, his tone quiet and deadly. 

All you can think about is Megumi, where the fuck is Megumi? He’s your priority right now. Your head whips toward Megumi’s table, where you see Yuki with her hand on Megumi’s shoulder as he watches you intensely. 

“Fuck. Gumi.” You whisper to yourself. 

You pull away from Gojo’s grasp to race toward your son. “Mama..” he whispers as you reach him and pull him tightly into a hug. “It’s okay honey. Don’t worry about it.” You firmly grasp the back of his neck to ground yourself. This is exactly why you had said all those things you said to Toji all those years ago. You didn’t want your child growing up in an unstable environment. You didn’t want Toji’s issues to be a cause of stress for yourself or for Megumi. It'd be slightly different if these were two random guys in the diner. Sure, you'd shield Megumi if it got intense, but the fact that one was his father made the hair on the back of your neck stand up at the slightest movement.

“You look sad mama. Did the big men hurt you?” You laugh at his innocence. “No, baby. They didn’t hurt me.” They did hurt you. In a deep emotional way that you didn’t feel like explaining to a four year old right now. “Let's go honey, little kids shouldn’t see this.” 

“I’m a little kid, right?” He asks. “Yes, you are.”

“What the hell is going on?” You hear a booming voice come from the kitchen door and see Nanami walking towards Toji’s table. “Nothings going on!” Jinichi yells. “You know how the little brothers are, always got a goddamned inferiority complex goin’ on or somethin’!” Toji still has a grasp on his shirt as Jinichi is yelling at Nanami. 

“I’m going to have to ask you two to leave.” Nanami says calmly. “I ain’t fucking leaving. I came here for some fuckin’ service from my brother’s old-” Suddenly, Jinichi’s head is being slammed onto the table, and a collective gasp is aroused from the restauraunt. 

“Come, Gumi.” You pick him up in your arms. “Yuki, can you pack his stuff up for me please?” You ask as you contemplate your next move. “Of course, of course.” You can’t head to the front or kitchen door without Gumi potentially seeing more violence. You would have to rush past in the hopes that nothing else happens while you’re moving by. The kitchen door is closer from here, less potential for Megumi to see anything. 

“Ok, Gumi. Can you close your eyes for me real quick, baby?” You ask, rubbing his back. “Ok, mama.” You move Megumi so that his face is pressed to your chest and book it toward the kitchen door. You hear more commotion as you pass by, but will yourself not to turn around and check. Gojo and Yuki follow you in from behind with your bag. When you’re in the kitchen, you’re quick to set Megumi on the ground to grab his hat and secure it on his head. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I never would’ve given you that table if I knew.” She apologizes as she hands you your bag. You laugh. “It’s not your fault Yuki. By the way, remember what I said about no intercourse? You wanna implement that policy because of fuckers like him-” “Mama!” Megumi chastises. “Sorry, bad word.” Yuki lets out a relieved sigh.

“I didn’t even see them walk in, Y/N-” Gojo starts. “Oh my gosh guys, it's not a big deal! Seriously, I’m just worried about Gumi seeing anything.” Even as you say this, your hands shake as you attempt to zip up Megumi’s coat. Gojo gives you a knowing look and grabs your own coat off the rack for you. 

“I just, um, need a little break. I can’t afford to lose out on the money tonight.” You say, grabbing your coat from him and sliding it on. “I’ll cover you-” Gojo starts, but you interrupt. “I’m not taking money from your family, Gojo!” You pick up Megumi and hold him on your hip. “I’m not saying that. I’ll split the tips from tonight with you. My apology for not seeing them before.” 

“No, Gojo.”

Nanami walks in the kitchen door. “Take the day off,” he says to you before walking back to his office. “No, Nanami I’m ok I’ll just take him to my mom’s really quick-” 

“You’re too shaken up to do anything else today. I’ll schedule you more next week to make up for it.” Nanami supplies. “Thank you.” You say, silently relieved. Was your distress seriously that obvious? You would have to tone it down in front of Gumi.

“Wooow Nanami you’re such a good manager-” 

“Can it Gojo, you’re gonna have to pick up the slack tonight.”

You’re already making your way out the back of the building when Gojo responds with a whine.

“Hey what the hells going on out there?” Hakari asks as you walk by. “Some bullshit.” You respond. “Mama!”

You weren’t even in the building for thirty minutes today, but it feels thirty degrees cooler when you walk out. The trek to the bus stop is gonna suck. 

It's a ten minute walk from the diner to the bus stop. You cling onto Megumi for warmth, making sure he's buried not only in his own coat, but in yours. When you get to the bus stop, you realize it’s gonna be another fifteen minutes before the bus comes. Megumi isn’t one to complain, but you can feel him shivering under you. “Just a little longer baby.” You soothe him, rapidly rubbing his back and arms in an attempt to warm him. 

It must be some sick joke for an old pickup truck to pull right in front of the bus stop and roll its window down. 

“Do you need a ride?” Toji asks.

You've gotta be fucking kidding.

part two is up! thanks so much for all the love on the first on! 70 notes is crazy!

pls send requests or questions to me! and also let me know if i missed anything in the tags!

thank you guys !!!

(i'll make a masterlist maybe when pt 3 goes up but im too lazy rnnnnnn)

[co-sharkie]

I'm so sorry I'm new to this request thing but I was wondering if you could do something with Scott from twisters and a brat reader who is new to Storm Par. Something like Scott being all authoritative when she acts out but like caring for her all at the same time. We like a mean dom Scott for sure lol

Sorry to bug you!

(Don’t ever be sorry for sending me a request I absolutely love them and you all bring me so much joy with them) (I hope I did ur request justice <3)

Brat Summer

Scott (Twisters) x F! Reader

Summary: Scott shows his authoritative and protective side with the newest addition to Storm Par.

Words: 1265

Warnings: Scott kinda bitchy, shit ass men (slightly mentioned), reader is bratty and unsafe

Scott eyed you up and down as you peacefully walked to the trucks with Javi. You were typically Scott's navigator when storm chasing, being one of the newest members of Storm Par you were not allowed to drive yet. It was a new rule Scott put in place as soon as you joined the team. Javi speculated that it was because Scott did not trust your driving.

You were a storm chaser in the past, having put that behind you to attend University. Meeting Javi in a convenience store during a tropical storm led you to join Storm Par.

You stopped next to Scott who was waiting at one of the trucks. "Ready to go?" You asked him when he didn't move or greet you.

"What are you wearing?" Scott smacked his gum in annoyance. His hat and glasses hid his eyes that were looking everywhere but you.

You popped your hip out dramatically and rose a brow. "Clothes." You stated. "It's ninety out, Scott. I'm wearing something I'm not gonna burn to death in."

The clothes in question was just a pair of shorts and a tank top. The white button up with 'Storm Par' written on the breast pocket was unbuttoned and showing off that tank top. "Couldn't have picked longer shorts?" Scott muttered under his breath.

"Won't be a problem if you just keep your eyes to yourself." You tilted your head and smirked at him.

"I can, but other people can't." Scott nodded his head in the direction of another group of storm chasers. Two of the men had their eyes locked on your figure. You shivered. Scott put a hand on your lower back and guided you to the passenger side of the white truck. "Just get in and pull up the GPS."

—

You directed Scott to the storm and sure enough there was a tornado that had just touched. Scott skillfully maneuvered to the side of the tornado. He stopped far enough ahead in its path that you two could set up the portable PAR.

Scott lifted majority of the weight and you two locked it into the ground. You pressed a few buttons to turn it on but nothing happened. No lights lit up and no beeping sounded. You were frantically pressing the buttons in hopes they would turn on.

The wind blew your button up shirt all over. Scott ran to the back of the truck when he didn't see you enter through the passenger door. "What are you doing? Get in the truck!" He yelled over the harsh sounds of the wind.

"It's not turning on!" You called back. "Do you still have that portable screwdriver? I can fix it before the tornado gets too close."

"No, don't worry about that." He looked over towards the said tornado and noticed it appeared to be stationary. His heart dropped when he realized it had changed paths during the set up and was not headed directly towards you two. Scott ran to your side and tried to pull you away from the PAR. "We can fix it when we're back."

You slid out of his arms and returned to the PAR, and inspected the instrument. "We need this data!"

The winds grew louder and your ears began ringing. Scott hastily wrapped his arms around your waist and dragged you back to the truck. "I don't care, get in!"

You huffed and got in the truck. Scott sped away before you had a chance to buckle up. You crossed your arms and stared out the window. Scott could tell you were frustrated with him. "Pissed off that I didn't let you die to a tornado?" He snorted.

"I could've fixed it if you had just grabbed me the damn screwdriver!" You snapped. It was common for an argument to ensue in the truck. Your risky behavior and Scott's snarky remarks never mixed well. "We could have had that data but now we have to wait for another tornado to show up."

Scott rolled his eyes. He parked the truck on the side of the road when he got you two to a safe distance from the storm. "Sorry, Princess, but it doesn't work if it's in the tornado."

"It wasn't going to be in it, Scott! We were on the side of it!"

"If you looked up for one second you would've seen that it changed paths and we were going to be in it!" Scott yelled back. He threw his goggles into the backseat. "You used to chase, you know better than to take your eyes off the storm!"

Your eyes widen at his sudden outburst. Sure, Scott was snarky and smug and sometimes a bit rude, but he never yelled at you before. You realized you could have been a bit more careful on the field. You still were not used to Storm Par. You were always reckless when you chased, it's what you grew up with and what you dedicated so much to.

"I didn't realize it changed course." You quietly said. "I'm sorry, Scott."

Scott suddenly felt guilty. You were never this quiet. And you never apologized to him. "I–" Scott started his sentence but choked on his words.

You picked up the talkie hooked to the truck's dashboard. "Scarecrow reporting. The PAR would not turn on when deployed. Wizard, please confirm if it's safe to retrieve."

Static came before a voice. "Copy that Scarecrow. No data came through from you guys. It's safe to retrieve now."

You set the talkie down and leaned back in your seat. "I'll take a look at it when we get to the next stop." You mumbled.

Scott's hand moved to the gearshift to put the truck in drive, but he paused. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." He uttered.

"You don't have to be sorry. You were just trying to keep us both alive." When you turned to look at Scott you met his bright blue eyes staring back at you. "I need to be more careful on the field and remember that this is not the same as what I was once used to."

You gave him a soft smile that had Scott looking away. "Do you want to drive next time?" He suddenly asked.

You blinked. "I thought you said I couldn't because I'm new?"

"I never said it was because you're new. Just that you couldn't." He started. "I never let you drive because I'm worried about your safety."

A laugh escaped your lips. "Unbelievable! Did you think I was gonna take us into the tornado or something?"

"No! I was just worried about you, that's why you don't ride with anyone else!"

You couldn't contain your giggles. "Y'know, I would've thought that after all these arguments we have you'd kick me out of your truck. And here you are admitting that you care about me!"

Scott just rolled his eyes. "Do you want to drive or not?" He groaned.

"No, it'd probably be better if you did." Your giggles calmed down. "I’m not much for a driver anyway."

Scott smiled with a small laugh. "Alright. Just do me a favor and listen to me next time."

"Sure, sure. I will." You smiled back at him. "You should smile more, Scotty. The dimples are cute." You teased.

"Shut up–!”

[oceantornadoo]

a ghost lives

price came to your door and told you simon was killed in action. three months later, who's that at your door step?

angsty but turns smutty. happy ending dw :)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“no.”

you slammed the door, hands shaking. “no, no, no. it’s not possible.” your shaking hands raised to your cheeks, clawing. tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision. the door opened, a dark figure walking through it. you flinched, taking steps backwards until your back hit the wall. you kept shaking your head, murmuring “no, no, no” without sound. you slid down the wall, staring at the man in front of you.

simon was in shambles. the moment he was medically cleared he had jumped on the next plane home, not bothering to tell anyone. he needed to see you, to hold everything he held dear, to believe in good again. and instead of a warm welcome, instead of your customary jump and kiss, you were breaking down. he didn’t understand it. what did he do wrong?

“love? it’s me. i’m home.” he said almost stupidly, unsure of his next move. he closed the door and locked it, and you flinched again. you were sitting on the floor now, tears running down your face with your head in your hands. he set his bag down gently, not wanting to spook you. he ripped off his mask and gloves, tucking them away. you gasped, finally making eye contact.

“you’re not real. you died. my husband died three months ago. you’re in my imagination. please, just go away.” you pleaded, prayed. price had come to your doorstep three months ago, hat in his hands, tears in his eyes. he talked about a difficult enemy and unfair terrain. the only word you heard was “k.i.a.” you died that day, and had been a breathing ghost ever since.

simon was in shock. he had left the hospital so quickly that he had never talked to his unit, didn’t know what they told you. he dropped to his knees, your pain flowing through him tenfold. “i didn’t die, love. i was just lost. i survived for two months in the woods until they found me. i was so badly injured i had to be treated by foreign operatives. price doesn’t even know, i thought they told him. i’m so sorry. i am so, so sorry. i’m here.” you shook your head at his every word. your nightmares were terrifying, but this was the worst one yet. you had never hallucinated in broad daylight. his familiar scent of musk and that cologne you bought him last christmas wafted through the air, punishing you. 

“i don’t believe you. you’re not real. i buried you.” you couldn’t afford to hope. the last months had been about survival, and you had just started eating regularly without bursting into tears, imagining simon cooking his famous meat pie in your kitchen. “casket was empty, lovie. i’m going to touch you now. i need you to know i’m here.” he reached his hand out slowly, like he was approaching a feral cat. you flinched again, breaking another piece of his heart and burying it like that empty casket. his fingertips brushed your cheek and your mouth dropped, tears stopping. 

“si? tell me this is real. convince me.” he maneuvered over until his knees touched yours, bringing you down to earth. you couldn’t believe him. your ghost was alive. there was no way. maybe you had too many melatonin gummies last night.

“look, dove.” he pulled up his shirt, showing you new scars. you had his scars memorized, mapped down to the millimeter, and you would never dream of him being hurt more. he showed you his bandages, moving your fingers over the wrapped bullet hole. he grimaced and you gasped. you would never wish for simon to be in pain, so the fact that he was meant…

you flung yourself at him, shedding new tears. “you’re here, you’re really here. you’re alive.” he nodded against your shoulder. you hear a small meow and drew your head back, looking at riley jr., your ball of fur. she padded over softly and nuzzled her head against simon’s knee, drawing a short laugh from him as he scratched behind her ears. through all of your nightmares, riley jr. had never acknowledged your ghosts. which meant simon was real. which meant he was alive. 

“i’m here.” he kissed your forehead, brushing back your hair. “i’m here.” he kissed between your eyebrows, smoothing the creases there. “i’m alive.” he kissed your tears away, drying your face. “i’m never leaving, dove.” he kissed your nose, finally drawing a small smile out of your. “i’m home.” he kissed your lips, and you kissed back fervently. your husband was home and alive and here. “simon, i’ve missed you. you have no idea. i died that day. i’ve been waiting to join you ever since.” he shook his head as tears rolled down his face. “be ready to wait another 70 years, love. we’re alive.” you tackled him again, pushing him down on the ground. you kissed him with the passion that had been gone for the last three months, cracked and dried out inside you. you climbed on top of him, needing to feel him, needing to believe. 

you grinded your hips against his, drawing out a low moan. “let me inside. let me show you i’m alive.” he said, still not convinced you believed him. you nodded, overcome with love for the man beneath you. he rubbed his palm against your clit, rocking you as you kissed. you hadn’t even thought of sex in the last three months, and it had somehow built up to this. you were instantly wet, always ready for your simon. you felt his hardness underneath you as he bucked his hips. you unzipped his pants, taking him out, long and heavy in your hands. he pulled aside your shorts and you sunk down on him with a low moan. “my husband. my simon. you’re alive.” you finally, truly believed it. he bucked into you, the friction of his clothes stimulating your clit. “my wife and her beautiful cunt, sucking me in. look at you.” there were dried tears on your face, sweaty clothes clung to your body, and your cunt squelched with every thrust. you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. you were so pretty, even when you cried. 

he flipped you both over, fucking into you hard on the floor. his hand wrapped around your head, protecting it from bumping. “i’m back because no one could ever fuck you like this. no one as good as me. say it.” he ordered, needing reassurance. “no one as good as you, si. no one will ever be you.” you moaned, your orgasm building up, with something behind it. he sucked your neck and pinched your nipples, reminding your body of how good it felt to be owned by him. “come on, dove. come for me.” you felt so wet and achy, your emotions out of control. his voice was the only thing keeping you conscious. you felt stuffed, full of your husband. “come on, my dirty girl. let me fill you up. my welcome home gift.” you gasped as you came, a tingling sensation following it. you looked down as you squirted on simon’s cock, so overwhelmed. he came, the juices mixing, trailing down your holes. “gonna give you a baby so you won’t ever leave. we’re never leaving each other, yeah?” he grasped your hair and pulled you in for a kiss.

“never, simon. i’m yours.”

[mcflymemes]

BULLET TRAIN (2022) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

if you mention thomas the tank engine one more time, i'm gonna shoot you in the fucking face.

would you describe me as someone who lives in perpetual anxiety?

well, you also have a shoot-able face.

you never know what horrible fate your bad luck has saved you from.

thank you for taking the job on such short notice.

you are getting the new and improved me.

i'm less reactive to situations, i'm more accepting of people's shortcomings.

you put peace out in the world, you get peace back.

i'm not even trying to kill people and someone dies.

i could live here. i like the atmosphere, the people are considerate.

i know i'm being judgmental. i need to work on that.

this train is bound for kyoto.

i'm gonna assume you didn't take the gun?

you know, i'm thinking of starting my own agency.

what am i snatching and/or grabbing?

shit, i think i dropped my ticket.

you're bleeding.

who the fuck did i kill?

i think they'll notice the childish code names first.

when was the last time you ate a lemon meringue pie?

there's always a catch.

you idiots work for my father?

you ever watch thomas the tank engine? everything i learned about people i learned from thomas.

i want to strangle you now.

why do you always bring swords?

that wasn't our fault.

hey, listen, i'm just gonna get off at the next stop.

where's the briefcase?

he doesn't need a reason to kill people like you.

you're going to want to hear the whole story, or you'll be very, very sorry.

why do i even bother forwarding you the briefings?

no one really knows the truth.

we are... fucked.

find me the son of a bitch who did this.

can we just take a time out here? talk this out?

why does that sound so familiar?

the guy who stabbed me. i spilled wine on his suit.

one of them is walking towards me right now.

why are we whispering?

your orders were to stay on the train.

can i please do my job now?

shove that fucking hat up your fucking asshole.

there's a gun underneath this table pointed right at you.

i'm just fucking with you.

real quick... every day is a fucking headache with you, innit?

you're alive, i'm alive, everyone's happy.

i just want to get off this train, go see a zen garden and some shit, you know?

there's another body here.

this guy's like criss fucking angel. he pops up everywhere.

unlike you, i'm a professional.

you shoot first and come up with the answers later.

are you hiding in a bathroom?

i knew my luck would rub off on you.

you're really proud of yourself, aren't you?

for what it's worth, you seem like a right fucking asshole and i'm glad you're gonna fucking die with me.

you proved you're smarter than everyone.

am i dreaming?

i don't know how to use a gun.

i'm glad you enjoyed the performance.

i'm mansplaining. i'm mansplaining again.

you want a blanket? you want me to hold your hand?

you have been lying to me, my friend.

i never forget a face.

i'm so happy to see you. please help me.

make sure you do something that brings you peace, 'cause everything else is a pain in the ass.

fate for me is just another word for bad luck.

why are you motherfuckers using metaphors?

i'm gonna buy us some time.

i built myself up from the nothing you gave me.

i came here to kill you.

oh shit. something's happening.

i'm sorry i shot you twice.

we're almost there. you just need to get up.

what's happening to your face? are you crying?

[flowercrowngods]

for prompt tag!

28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)

but also take your time 🫡🫂

in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours

When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie. 

But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured. 

Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no. 

The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.

God, where did Steve even unbury that? 

And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it?  His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red. 

Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man. 

In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie). 

“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?” 

“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him. 

He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really. 

Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt. 

They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.

“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms. 

“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."

Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?” 

“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that. 

“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”

Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch. 

“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again. 

“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile. 

“Good?” 

Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.” 

“And you have a fever.” 

“Hmm. Still.” 

It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly. 

“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has. 

“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.

Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?” 

“That. Your voice. Feels nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.” 

Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”

“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it. 

“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”

Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades. 

It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.  

hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶

[kaiser-author-san-iii]

Star Light, Star Bright | Fatui Harbingers x (Fem)Creator!Reader

A/N: holy Tsarista, I did not think that it would be this popular. Thank you so much!! It's been a couple months since I got into Genshin, but I'm glad that the Harbinger trailer dropped cause otherwise, this probably wouldn't have existed lol. I apologize for the late update. I have been quite stumped in the plot and just taking a moment to come up with one. If I didn't tag everyone, I'm sorry! DM or reply to be added to the taglist! :3

Summary: Caring for children is hard, but it's especially hard when around the Fatui. Getting isekaied was the last thing on your mind after landing in the icy tundra of Snezhnaya all while your nephew is with you. What will happen when you encounter not only a Fatui Skirmisher but a Fatui Harbinger?

Tags/warnings: female reader, God!reader, Cult AU,

Not edited or beta read, we die like Signora.

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Chapter 2: The Creator's Welcome

Silence.

What could be said while the entire palace and the surrounding area waited with bated breath for their Grace to awaken?

They were fervent - they waited to leave and search for the "meaner" that has done harm to their Beloved but that would leave their Previous Grace with only the Heir for company and guard.

The Precious Heir - they have heard of them only from what was written centuries ago. He was beautiful - he was innocent and was crying for their Grace to wake up all while the Harbingers stood by with the Tsarista finally making her appearance, rushing towards the bed that their Grace rested in, bending the knee and holding their hand.

"Your Grace. Your Excellency. Oh, my Beloved Creator. What has that Meaner done to you?"

Nugget never left your side as he clutched onto your waist, but being careful with your arms as he was told by the blue-haired man with the mask. He was a doctor and clearly knew what he was talking about so the little one made sure to listen well. The Doctor man and the others gave them a room which is what his Auntie expected and though he was focused more on taking care of you, it was nice to wander around the room all while the Harbin Gingers (It was some word that he had trouble saying) always came to check on him and his auntie and even gave him coloring books and sweets and fruits. It was all so good and he made sure to save you some whenever you were going to wake up.

But he especially loved the Tsarista and Columbia (Colombina)

They were very nice. They held him when you were still asleep and he couldn't be there for the operation.

For what seemed like forever, when it was only a matter of four days, the bed shifted as Nugget was reading the latest book that the guy with the funny hat gave him. He wanted to read it to you when you woke up and his wish was soon coming true as he felt movement and looked over to see your [E/c] eyes. He gasped and immediately snuggled into the sheets and wrapped his small arms around your waist.

"Auntie! You're awake! You're awake!"

Soft wet globs of tears started to stain your shirt as you looked down at the child who held you tightly and didn't want to let go. It would have been endearing if it wasn't for the fact that you had almost died from possible blood poisoning from ignoring your wounds. Your Nephew remembered seeing a lot of gold and despite still learning, he knew for a fact blood was red.

Carefully holding him up and ruffling his hair, you kissed his forehead and wiped his tears away.

"I'm sorry I made you worry, Nugget. I promise, I'll be sure to look after myself but my main concern was you."

That response earned a pout but your nephew thought it was good enough for now. If you weren't healthy and in one piece, how are you supposed to find a husband or a wife?!

"Just don't go to sleep anymore or at least for a long time. You made everyone worry!"

"Everyone?"

At the mention, your Nephew saw the clear confusion on your face and smiled brightly, but with a glint of mischievousness as he swiftly, with his small feet could go, hopped out of bed but careful to stay clear from your arms, rushed to the door and yelled out.

"Auntie [Y/n] is awake!" he said with a bright smile that was quite contagious, but it was last minute that you saw a figure by the door, or make it two figures. They had hoods over their head but it was the masks that covered their identities - the sheer happiness was clear from their body movements and one of them rushed out to who knows where while your nephew ran back to your side and started to share all the books he's read while you were recovering.

He's always had trouble reading so it was a feat itself to see him now reading at his supposed grade level. He still had trouble with certain words but nothing to worry about.

While trying to process all that was happening around you, you heard multiple footsteps before the door flew open, and in walked in about a dozen people.

Your face heated up at seeing all the gorgeous faces quickly surround you, pulling your nephew close to your side, weary of what else could happen. But you could have sworn that there was a hint of sadness in their eyes from your pull away from them.

"Don't be scared. They helped us! They helped you! Especially the Doctor man." Your nephew grinned as he held your hand and decided to make you sit up and face the group properly and pointed at the Doctor. The Doctor that he mentioned was practically preening from the praise like a peacock showing off its feathers.

The grip on his hand lessened as you looked at all twelve people one by one. It didn't take a rocket scientist to distinguish the power that they all radiated. Though at the time, you didn't know of the power you held yourself.

The elegant lady with long white hair, icy blue eyes, and who seemed to scream 'Ice Queen', slowly walked up to your bedside with a gentle smile as her hand moved to slowly hold yours. Now, you wouldn't have minded if it was your nephew or family, but this was a stranger. A stranger with a very firm grip despite how delicate it was.

"Now. How shall we punish the meaner that's done this to you?"

Eh?

-x-

It was... a change to have people cater to your every whim despite half of them being just jokes like bringing you the finest gem. The honor of bestowing such a gem was by none other than the 9th Harbinger, Pantalone.

Your nephew was having a great time, especially when he got to get along with a majority of the Harbingers and the Fatui, who took the mission of entertaining Nugget very seriously.

Once your arms were good as new, you asked for the group of Fatui soldiers that you and your nephew first encountered. At first, they were adamant about having you and Nugget leave the palace but you needed to get back to your car and get the rest of your things.

But funnily enough, you don't remember a palace or an organization going by the Fatui in your life...

Not to mention, these people seemed to recognize you and your nephew despite you two not knowing any of them.

If you thought of it more, a headache occurred and the Tsarista was adamant in asking you to save your energy and that it didn't matter if you recognized them. That all that mattered was that you and the Heir were fine.

While bedridden, your Nephew had the privilege to waltz around like he owned the place and even got you some books to read in the meantime. You saw mentions of a Divine Creator, a God-like figure that was first in creating the world around you and beyond, the one that made the stars and skies. A Divine Creator from the Beyond gave life to a speck in the skies and named it Teyvat and thus, its first child was born.

During a certain period when the Creator was roaming freely, they announced that their sister was with child and so, the Creator named the unborn babe the Heir to Teyvat.

The book was quite the read and wanting to know more about why the people around you and Nugget called you the Divine Creator and the Heir, you took it around with you.

"Your Grace, you must bundle up. Snezhnayan winters are quite brutal. People freeze to death here, quite literally in fact." announced a Fatui sniper, the one that first saw you and Nugget as he came behind you and placed a coat, courtesy of Pantalone of course, on your shoulders and your nephew too.

Stepping out to the brutal snow, instead of the harsh snow that you were expecting, it was a light snowfall that shocked the group of Fatui that decided to travel with you.

[Nephew's Name] stepped out from behind you and cheered happily as he rushed out to the snow and started to play, making snowmen and snow angels with, of course, the Fatui looking out and being won over by the child's heart-felt giggles.

They were all trying to make sense of why the snowfall was reduced to just light snow instead of the blizzards they're used to until they recalled that their Divine Grace and the Heir were right here with them. Teyvat was the Divine Creator's first child and as the loyal child it was, it could always sense where they were. Though Snezhnaya was the domain of the Tsarista, the Cryo Archon, the Divine Creator's word was Law.

Ehe.

Everything came to a slow stop as the world first heard the giggle from the Creator and with each step that you had taken, noticeable patches of green started to appear and grow more and more. The chilled winds of winter called down as the grey skies parted to make way for the rays of the sun.

The Tsarista felt the pause of winter, looking out that the frozen lands of her region have warmed up to what it had been long ago before her ascension.

Her Grace has given warmth back to the frozen tundras of Snezhnaya to the point that the flora and fauna basked in the sunlight. "Nugget. Be careful. The snow is melting."

And like that, the snow stopped melting just enough for your nephew to enjoy making snow angels.

'Welcome to Teyvat, Divine Creator!'

TAGLIST:

@lizzhearthz, @yoshikuno , @anonclyde , @khalhaimdad, @ellenoir

@yunsblog030 , @lsleepysimpl, @potol0ver, @kitty-chan33

[french-unknown]

hiya, can i request hcs of straw hats reacting to their s/o getting seriously injured because of a marine?

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, robin 𝐂/𝐖: fluff, hurt/comfort 𝐀/𝐍: hiya! (〃´・ω・`)ゝ 𝐖/𝐂: 1k +

| m a s t e r l i s t |

𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

✧ The escape that he had previously taken lightly, with all the crew arguing, immediately took on different propensities when you were hit in the chest by a bullet from a Marine soldier.

✧ Luffy suddenly stopped laughing when you collapsed.

✧ He asked the others to take you back to the boat safely while he was left alone behind. He even refused Zoro's help.

✧ He returned an hour after you and, as the boat moved away from the coast without being bothered by any world organization, he came to join you in the infirmary.

✧ Throughout your convalescence, his days consisted of keeping face with his crew and living their adventures but, as soon as evening came, he would sneak into the infirmary to talk to you about his day. He told it to you in every detail without doubting for a second that you would eventually open your eyes.

✧ You were a survivor in his eyes. Period.

✧ As soon as you woke up, he brought you a piece of meat before even kissing or cuddling you.

𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎

✧ From the moment you were injured and he looked up at your attacker, the Marine himself saw his life flash before his eyes.

The East Blue demon may have been on the other side of the battlefield, but he distinctly felt the drop of sweat running down his spine at the swordsman's murderous aura.

✧ On the other hand, so caught up in his revenge, Zoro didn't think about getting you out of the combat zone.

He stayed next to you in order to defend you at the cost of his life but, not for a single second, he thought it would be a good idea to send you to Chopper. He was too caught up in his rage to think about it.

✧ It was Robin who moved you to the boat and Zoro growled when he saw your body going away.

✧ His bounty had increased when you regained consciousness.

✧ You finally recovered but he didn't let go of you when the next fight arrived. He tried to discreetly hide the stress in his stomach at the thought of you being hurt again.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

✧ From the moment she saw you bleeding, Nami became uncompromising. She won't go to the battlefield to fight if she knows she has no chance but she will have a cold rage.

✧ Tyrannical Nami appeared.

✧ She ordered several members of the Straw Hats to take special care of the one who hurt you. She sent Sanji first because she knew she would be able to convince him easily however, if you were really badly hurt, she would give the mission to Zoro to make sure they suffered. Even if it meant forgiving him his debts.

✧ When you returned to the infirmary, she led Chopper by the nose so that he could work hard to treat you. She might even push him to the point of making him cry or exhaust him.

✧ She couldn't bear to lose anyone else.

✧ Yet, when you woke up, she denied having worried about you. Instead, she told you that you were stupid to put yourself in such danger like that.

𝐔𝐒𝐎𝐏𝐏

✧ No matter the terror that cut into his stomach or made him want to cry, he overcame his fear to come and protect you.

✧ He pretended throughout your convalescence that he wasn't worried about you and that everything was fine. However, after dark, he would come to your room in the infirmary every night to sleep next to you and beg you to open your eyes. Not to die. Not to leave him alone.

✧ Seeing you, helpless, dying on a bed reactivated his traumas about his mother.

✧ His physical condition deteriorated because of the anxiety that was eating him from the inside. He was far too agitated to sleep, eat, or even think.

✧ The whole crew would see that he walked like a caged lion but he didn't want to bother anyone with his problems and traumas. He will eventually explode and tell them everything, and they will support him through this difficult phase until you are fully recovered.

✧ That didn't stop him from bragging about your rescue once the whole story was done.

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

✧ As soon as he saw you on the ground, he immediately gave up his competition with Zoro over who would beat the most Marines or who would defeat the strongest. He forgot the swordsman and his taunts, to see him leave, and he went towards you as quickly as his legs carried him.

✧ He brought you back to safety as soon as possible.

✧ He watched over you throughout your convalescence. He didn't leave your room unless it was to cook for the crew or to wash himself. Otherwise, he took up residence on your bed or the chair next to it.

✧ No matter how hard the crew tried, he didn't get through the door.

Chopper tried to get him out—to take some time for himself—by promising to watch you but Sanji refused. Robin offered to take care of you while he slept in his own bed but he didn't leave your side. Nami asked him to visit the city together, and carry her shopping bags, but he didn't look at her. Even Zoro tried to trouble him to take his mind off you but Sanji didn't pay him any attention.

✧ His life only resumed when you woke up.

𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍

✧ At first glance, she maintained impressive composure.

✧ She was very methodical in the procedure to follow: she formed a cocoon around you while she reached you, she protected you closely, brought you back safely on the boat and ended up entrusting you to the doctor.

✧ As soon as that was done, she returned to the battlefield and all hell broke loose on the entire Marine squadron.

✧ Even Luffy let her finish the fight without getting involved.

✧ Throughout your convalescence, she stayed with you without really worrying. She believed in your resistance as much as Luffy. She stayed quietly reading her book in the chair in the infirmary while waiting for you to wake up.

✧ The only indication you had of her concern when you opened your eyes was when she came to kiss and hug you as soon as you woke up. You were surprised but quite happy since she wasn't someone who was demonstrative.

✧ Chopper opened the door at that moment to check on you and ran away when he saw you kissing.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @d @lys-ada @xomingyu @parkyrr @yasmiinberkaa @dozcan123 @anotherproblemsos @cellgore @sketchmilk @kai-wifey

[kevindavidday]

i love that neil considers jean as part of the family he wants to protect. i will elaborate this time because

if you think about it, neil spent book 1 trying his best not to build a connection, book 2 trying to break down the walls ending with confirming from nicky if they were friends, and every second after that deliberately doing whatever was in his goddamn power to keep these people safe and happy. going to edens for andrew, keeping the truth from them, getting the letter back for kevin, reminding kevin that he owes jean a conversation after all that's happened, fixing the twins' relationship, spending time with them even though he knew he would leave. in his mind, what he was doing was selfish because he was going to die soon and they didn't even know it.

he doesn't die, though and he comes back with even MORE fight in him than before. he meets his uncle once and although his mother hadn't wanted him to be involved in one gang after another, he doesn't give a single flying fuck. the hatford's existence is just another resource for him, a way to hurt those who have hurt his family. stuart already killed his father, so what's it matter if there's a few more - protecting him means protecting his family. if the fbi had any clue about the power neil actually holds over the hatford's they would all willingly eat their hats tbh.

so the first thing he does when he sees his uncle again? despite knowing that ichirou is close-by? he tells him to kill proust.

hell, even the moriyama's are nothing to this man if i'm being honest. he isn't afraid of them, he knew the rarity of ichirou's visits which made him wary when he got into the car to talk about bargaining their lives and i truly do believe ichirou moriyama was fucking relieved neil didn't ask for more than that. there is that strange, dead look in his eyes that he's inherited from his father which unnerves the fuck out of everyone who doesn't know him. and when he bargained for his life and kevin's, he remembered jean too.

which is fucking insane. he spent only winter break with jean moreau, ONLY. i know there's extra days at the nest, but i'd kill to know what happened between jean and neil during that time for neil to have such unflinching loyalty towards his 'forever partner'. i want to know their conversations, i want to know what they suffered through together.

and the casual way in which jean dropped the news about grayson to neil, after hiding it away from everyone for so long. he admitted the truth to neil straight up, like of course neil should know, it's neil. jean's mind is still haywired to remember him too even though they were only together for a few weeks!!!

what is it about them?

and then the entire time otw to the diner, neil's plotting again. he's scheming. he's thinking. and he knows what to do. and its asking for local work because fuck anyone who has ever hurt his family. he literally only ever needs a fucking name, bro. 'my first memories are of people dying.' i think we can tell...

wymack saw that leadership potential and made him vice captain. god bless neil only cares about playing exy because if he had even a second more interest in crime he would've floored everyone. i can see it so clearly.

anyway, hope he takes a hit out on tetsuji moriyama next 🙏

[socks-nb]

“I saw someone comment how ford was forcing himself to hate stanely bc the moment he got burnt, ford immediately asked if he was okay as a reflex”

POOKIE (hiii POOKIE <<33) Sent me a comment on a tiktok video that had me sobbing at work and I’m not letting this character analysis get lost to the void because god dammit stan deserves so much better than the fucked up cards he was handed in life.

Ford definitely had to force himself to hate Stanley. Every time he started writing anything positive about him in journal 3 he’d immediately cross it out. I think that if he put any thought into it hat happened between them and his part of what he’d done it would have broke him. Because really what did he expect to happen to his brother after he got kicked out at 17? He knew it would be nothing good, but if he wasn’t angry he’d have to feel bad instead and that anger was a lot more palatable than the alternative.

Stan’s entire life has been nothing but living for and loving ford. As kids it was him who protected him from the other kids. It was Stan who was always so proud of him when their father couldn’t give a shit. It was Stan who after 10 years of being homeless. 10 years of being ignored. 10 years of his other half seemingly not caring where he was dead or alive. 10 years of horrors that “I had to chew my way out of the back of a car!” can only elude to. 10 years of either being chased out or chased down. But when he got that post card from Gravity Falls? He dropped everything and went straight there in the middle of winter. He had to travel several states to get there with what little money he might have had, gas alone must have been a nightmare. It was cold, his jacket was old asf, the Stanmobile couldn’t have been in the best of shape, and neither was Stanley himself. But he still came. And after all that he was just?? What? Threatened with a crossbow, immediately told to fuck off again, and then branded for fucks sake?

(Who else thinks about the fact that Stan probably never went to a hospital to get it treated so he had to deal with the infection on his own 😍🔫)

I’m surprised he didn’t have an even bigger crash out than he did in canon tbh.

And then when all was said and done, this highschool drop out spent the next 30 YEARS teaching himself quantum physics with a third the notes he needed, filled with ramblings of a paranoid lunatic, all to bring the only person who made his life worth something home.

Not just bring him home but making sure Ford had a home to come back too. Yeah he converted part of it to the shack but who does ford think was paying the electric bill? His mortgage? All of it was Stan. And what did he get in return? A fist to the face before later being told that at the end of the summer he’d be back on the streets. A 60 year old man, who’d lived in gravity falls, lived in the shack, for longer than he’d ever lived anywhere. Longer than Ford had even lived there. The first and only stable place he’d had since glass shard beach. He’d be back where he was all those years go, accept he wouldn’t have what he had the first time. Specifically, he wouldn’t have his youth, and he wouldn’t have his reason. The only thing that kept him going all those years was the thought of his brother and a blatant refusal to die. 60 year old stan has a hearing aid and cataracts, and is also legally dead. He wouldn’t have made it out there. Stan would have died.

Stan never got to have a life of his own. His life is and always has been his brother. Sure Ford didn’t get to go to the college he wanted, but he had a life and a pretty damn good one at that. He was never even guaranteed to get into that school in the first place.

As smart as Ford is, a perpetual motion machine is impossible. Physically and mathematically it can not happen. It was never going to happen. It would have never worked. Weather Stan was there that night or not, it would have stopped eventually.

Ford went to college, made a best friend, got 12 PHDs, got a large enough grant that he was able to move states again and build his own custom home from the ground up AND STILL ended up studying what he’d always dreamed too. And with bill he got to experience shit that he assumed no one else ever had before. His life really only god fucked up after bill showed his true colors.

Yeah, pushing ford into the portal was a fuck up. A MAJOR fuck up. But Ford acts like he’s not the reason fiddleford fell in, another person he had to lie to himself about and convince himself that they were the problem. He never even checked on fiddleford afterwards and Ford ruined his life. He took a father away from his wife and child, he made Tate grow up watching his father slip further and further into madness until he was unrecognizable. His mind was so fucked not even bill could handle being there. Or he acts like he doesn’t understand how easy the roles could have been reversed. How easy it would have been for Stan to fall through the portal instead of him. After going through the portal I don’t believe for a minute he didn’t run into at least one portal stan.

They both fucked up, but the difference is that Stan spent his entire life trying to atone for what he’d done, and Ford spent his entire life blaming Stan for everything that had gone wrong in his life, (which was practically nothing before he decided to make a deal with a demon because he thought he knew better than anyone who had ever met bill before) for a mistake he made when he was 17, like he everything Stan did for him before that point meant nothing. One fuck up was all it took for him to look at Stan the same way their father did.

I think allowed himself a minute to think even for a minute about the situation in its entirety he’d break. Being angry is easier than being hurt and afraid. It’s easier to deal with than guilt and regret. It’s so much easier than looking at yourself and having to question where you went wrong and acknowledging than you fucked up and hurt someone. But Stan spent his entire existence doing just that. Looking at himself and knowing that he fucked up and had no way of making it better. Feeling guilt and regret for a fuck up anyone could have made. Because he was a teenager and afraid of losing the only person he had, and he had t even meant to touch his project!! He hit the table and that was enough to make fords machine explode into nothing???? That always seemed strange to me. I genuinely believe that even if Stan hadn’t been there it would have broken anyways. Not that it makes it right what happened. Stan should have told Ford when it all went down. But Stan didn’t deserve what happened to him for the next 40 years after than.

These old men own my entire soul. All of it. I love their relationship so much despite how bittersweet and tragic it is but god I could talk about them for hours. I don’t know what I would have done if they didn’t get their happy ending.