#you are welcome to ask any questions about anything i just said i know it was a lot
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neiptune · 2 days ago
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santa, boy, you're the worst
cw: 3k wc, female reader, suggestive if you squint, oliver aiku is the most infuriating idiot you know and this holiday season you unfortunately discover he just so happens to also be maddeningly soft and generous at the community centre where he volunteers as santa for children in low-income families
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“Here, this is where you can get changed”, Chiyo smiles kindly as she guides you into a small room filled with dusty boxes and christmas decorations, “thank you so much for doing this, we really needed some help this year”.
“Don’t mention it, I was really hoping you’d find a spot for me”, you take off your backpack and place it on an old table, “are you absolutely sure I’m going to be fine? Eiko said I just needed a costume but I’ve never-”
“Absolutely”, she vaguely gestures with one hand, “just follow Santa’s lead. He’s the one who’s good with kids”.
“I’ll just put this on, then”, you jut your bottom lip out, still not entirely convinced. She smiles again.
“I’ll leave you to it. We’ll be in the main hall!”.
They made a new elf costume just for you. Despite Eiko having a dreadful cold being a big bummer, you’re happy a few coincidences aligned to finally allow you to make something meaningful of the time you’d usually spend home, moping underneath a billion blankets.
There are no mirrors in the room, therefore you can only hope the costume looks good enough. You feel a bit ridiculous but, apparently, the hat is mandatory.
You leave your phone in your backpack and take out all the plastic bags filled with food instead: when you called her to inquire about what you could bring, Chiyo explained that they were all set with gifts but could’ve used some additions to the buffet. You brought all the alternatives for the kids whose gluten intolerance makes it hard to enjoy yummy snacks: carrot cake, peanut butter cookies, brownies, pizza, so many quiches. The previous day was spent cooking and baking but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
The main hall is filled with colorful christmas decorations and a table so long, filled with so much food. Chiyo spots you right away and rushes to help you carry all the bags.
“I got this, you can go help Oliver”, she efficiently starts pulling out the containers and you’re flabbergasted for a second.
“Who?”
“Santa! They already started, go, go!”, she indicates the other end of the hall, where a guy in a Santa costume sits on a chair and all around him there’s a numerous group of children on the floor, fawning over him. A giant bag filled with what you can only guess are gifts, is placed at safe distance from pouty lips and grabby hands.
You make your way to them with a big smile, only slightly tense at the corners because you only know one guy with that name but what are the chances? He’s the most insufferable person you’ve ever met. A constant flirt with anything that moves, way too confident for his own good, so unfairly attractive and quick witted. What would he even be doing here, so close to the holidays? No, it must be another Oliver.
The way Santa spots you and instantly opens his arms, warm and welcoming, tells you otherwise. Fuck. You’re now close enough to recognize eyes no one in their right mind would be able to ever forget.
“If it isn’t my favorite helper!”, his tone is jovial and deep, a perfect representation of a jolly Santa. Suddenly, so many little heads whip around to look at you.
“Hello!”, you excitedly wave, “nice to meet you, everyone!”.
“She’s not the elf from last year”, as you position yourself right behind Oliver’s chair and next to the gifts you’ll later help him distribute, a little boy furrows his brows with a slight pout. Before you can come up with something to say, Santa ho-ho-hos his way into the conversation.
“That’s exactly right, Kenji. She’s my side piece”.
You choke on your own spit. A little girl politely raises her hand and Oliver grants her permission to ask her question.
“What’s a side piece, Oli?”.
Oh, god. This is so much worse than what you could’ve anticipated.
Once more, he doesn’t allow you to reply and the grin underneath his fake beard is nothing short of infuriating.
“It’s an elf who helps when my other helpers are too busy”.
“So she’s your side elf? Is she as nice as the other?”.
He shifts in his seat and you quietly sigh, still smiling awkwardly to the children curiously checking you out, prepared for another jab.
“She’s the best”, Oliver turns to look at you with a small wink, drinking in the surprise written all over your features, “why don’t you introduce yourself, side elf? My kids are great, they’re gonna love you”.
There’s really no time to ponder over the words, how sweet they sounded. He’s only been with them for what, a few hours, and is already so protective of them? If he’s faking it, he really is one hell of an actor.
You attention soon shifts to the little, curious faces staring back at you and the thought of Oliver is pushed to the back of your mind. You’re there to make the afternoon special for those kids and you’ll give it your all, whatever it takes.
He ends up being right, they are great. So intelligent, affectionate and welcoming. You introduce yourself and it only takes a few minutes for them to accept your presence completely. There’s an odd sense of familiarity in the way they climb onto Oliver’s lap one by one, sometimes wrap their arms around his neck. They play with his silver beard as they answer questions about what they asked for christmas and he leans down to whisper secrets to their ear from time to time, to either make them laugh or put them at ease.
Some of the younger children grow restless after a while and you patiently placate small quarrels, pick up kid after kid while they wait for their turn and jokingly twirl until they’re giggling against your shoulder, the fabric of your costume squeezed by little fingers.
“Does Oli really work for Santa?”, Riko asks. She’s been in your arms for a while now and you balance her better against your chest with one arm, your other hand wrapped around Kenji’s.
“He does. We’re both in direct contact with him”, you smile.
“Do you ever go to his workshop?”.
“Sometimes we have to, yeah. Santa always gives us so many cookies and big glasses filled with milk”.
Riko hums, enraptured.
“Will I smell as good as you if I eat so many cookies and drink big glasses of milk?”.
Surprised, you fail to come up with an answer for a moment. Then you melt into a chuckle.
“But you already smell sooo good, Riko! I could eat you!”, she squeals with a laugh when you take a fake bite out of her cheek and Oliver turns to look at you both as he helps another little girl down from his knees.
“Trying to eat my kids, are you?”, he grins.
“Just this one for now”, you jokingly wink and Riko giggles once more. Kenji reclaims your attention by pulling at your hand.
“You have to do the thing”.
Lips still curled into a smile, you tilt your head to the side.
“The thing?”.
He nods, solemn.
“Oh, right”, Oliver snaps his fingers, “the thing. Let my elf go, Riko, we have to perform”.
“We have to do what now?”, as you carefully let the little girl down, Kenji slips his hand from yours.
“Santa baby”, Oliver pats his knees and, horrified, you realize it’s an invitation for you, “it’s their favorite song. We did it last year too”.
You let out a nervous laugh.
“I’m not a great performer-”
“C’mon, side elf! You gotta do it!”, Riko’s palms press to the small of your back and, as she pushes you towards an awaiting lap, you don’t have the heart to ask her to stop calling you that.
Oliver welcomes you onto his knees like you belong there, one arm instantly wrapping around your waist and the other on your thighs. He’s warm, solid underneath you. It’s the closest you’ve ever been to him and you hate that you’re suddenly tempted to pull him even closer.
“No one told me about this”, you murmur between gritted teeth, tense smile causing a low chuckle to vibrate in his chest.   
“You’ll be fine”, the hand resting on your hip gives it a light, playful squeeze, “it’s acapella, by the way. Give it your all”.
You’re still smiling but fail to entirely conceal the glare as you try to position yourself better against him. Whether he does it istinctively or not, Oliver tightens his hold around your waist.
All chatter stops and, between hushed but still excited whispers coming from the group sitting at your feet, you start humming the familiar tune.
“Santa baby, just slip a sable under the tree for me. Been an awful good girl”, you briefly turn to the kids and give them an exaggerated wink that makes them laugh, “Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight!”, you twirl part of Oliver’s fake beard around your pointer finger and when you meet his gaze, it’s surprising how serious it is. Time to get up, for your own sanity.
While he is supposed to keep up the act and match both your goofy tone and exaggerated motions to make the song playful and appropriate for children, he just keeps looking back at you with something unreadable in those dangerous eyes of his.
“Think of all the fun I missed!”, you dramatically drop to your knees and grab his arm, “think of all the fellas that I haven’t kissed!”, he finally seems to be shaken from his weird stupor and gasps loudly, looking back and forth between you and the giggling audience.
“Next year I could be just as good, if you check off my christmas list?”, you pout as Oliver shakes his head no, feigning disappointment. A few kids whine in fake sadness.
“I want a yacht and really that’s not a lot
 right?”, you beg for their approval and it makes you chuckle that they erupt in agreeing cheers right away, “been an angel all year!”.
“Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight”, with a deep sigh, you desperately squeeze his hand for a moment before getting up once more and continuing your performance around the audience with a skip in your step, hands behind your back as you sway and twirl around them.
“Please help me ask him, everyone!”, you implore, “so hurry down the chimney tonight”. They do join you in your plea, to which Oliver audibly slaps a hand to his forehead.
“Hurry down the chimney tonight”, you slowly approach his chair once more and the playfulness in his stare seems to vanish once more, fingers twitching on knees you don’t sit on, “hurry, tonight”, with a small smile, you twirl one last time and then bow deeply as the audience immediately starts clapping at the end of your performance.
“Oli, I want a yacht”, Riko pouts and her sister next to her giggles.
“I’ll see what I can do, sweetheart”, he smiles, then looks at you once more, “wanna help me give out this year’s gifts? Maybe we’ll find a yacht somewhere”.
He doesn’t even get to finish the question: in a matter of seconds, you’re both surrounded by exuberant little kids who are way too excited to find out what Santa’s helpers have in store for them this holiday season. The youngest of the group, six year old Tsumugi, raises her little arms and Oliver bends down to pick her up, balancing her on his leg.
You didn’t think the community centre would be able to put together enough funds to get
 all those presents. There are so much. Enough for each child to get three or four. Clothes, audio book players, lego sets, tablets, dolls, water marbling kits, headphones, books. An entire, separate bag is filled with signed soccer uniforms. You discreetly glance at Oliver, busy helping Hiro unwrap his third present.
You remember very few details about the blue lock project, from which some of the current top players of the globe suddenly came out years ago. You know he was part of it at some point and of course you remember his past as captain of the former U-20 team. Oliver is still one of the best known soccer players in Japan and clearly he is friends with those guys. But the fact that he went out of his way to make sure he had all those uniforms for these kids, stirs something in your chest.
As you hand out the shirts, little squeals make you smile.
“Riko, this one’s from Nagi”, the little girl practically snatches it from your hand, “wait, don’t push, there’s one for each of you! Who asked for the Kaiser one?”.
“Oli, will you keep your promise next year?”, Tsumugi, still in his lap, rests her head on his shoulder as she hugs a new teddy bear to her chest. He hums, one hand rising to boop her nose.
“You have my word, sweet girl. I told Yoichi you wanted to meet him and he was so sad he couldn’t make it today. He promised he’ll come next time”.
“Look what he sent you”, with a grin, you hand her the shirt Isagi signed for her. The way her eyes light up makes you wish for Eiko to be sick once more, the following year.
It’s the evening when parents slowly start arriving to collect their kids and thank everyone for the organization. You and Chiyo welcome them by the door and offer warm cups of tea. Those who are not in a rush are more than welcome to eat something despite the buffet having been more or less devoured by now.
As soon as you’re alone with Chiyo once more, the last remaining parents shaking hands with Oliver as they say goodbye, you deflate in a chair. Your legs hurt, you didn’t eat anything and you feel so tired but also immensely rewarded.
“It was fun, wasn’t it?”, with a smile, Chiyo pushes a water bottle towards you.
“So fun. You were right, he’s good with kids. Remembered all their names and everything”.
She chuckles.
“Well, I’d hope so. He comes every year”.
You stare back.
“Every year?”.
“Yeah, since forever. And he always gets so many extra presents for them, never accepted a single yen back”.
You sip on your water, unable to come up with something to say. Oliver Aiku, the same unbearably smug idiot who’d pissed you off endlessly each time you had the unfortunate chance of meeting him thanks to your cousin Shuto, seemed so different today. Patient, caring, attentive, fun. So generous.
You watch as parents bow to him and he bows back, ruffles their kid’s hair, laughs when Tsugumi hugs his legs. This is not good, not good at all, judging by the way your heart fumbles in your chest as he meets your gaze from across the room.
The elf costume is shoved into your backpack but the drawings and notes some of the kids made for you are placed on the table right next to it as you put on your coat. You’ll keep them in your hand, against your chest and underneath the warm fabric if you must, in case it’s still snowing outside. You’d hate for anything to happen to such precious cargo.
“You know, Riko has a point”, the gravelly voice so close to your ear makes you jump, “you really do smell good”.
“Try taking a shower”, your intention is to turn around with a scowl but the second you do, your back is pressed to the table as he leans forward and rests his palms on the rough surface. The sharp inhale you take makes him smile.
“Nah, I think it’s really just you”.
You stare back for a moment, then clear your throat, trying your best to not appear intimidated.
“Who knew you were so good with kids. They love you”.
Oliver pulls back, leaving you enough space to put a safe distance between your bodies.
“Well, who knew you were such a great cook. How long did it take to make all that food?”.
Much to your irritation, a smile threatens to appear on your lips. He deflects when complimented? Fuck. Off.
Your mind traces back to how protective he was of them. My kids. It’s sickening, really.
“You didn’t eat anything all day”, the softer tone catches him off guard for just a second, “take some leftovers”.
Oliver hums, something flashing across his features so quickly you may have imagined it. Then, he starts unbuttoning the red velvet jacket he’s still in.
“Don’t be so thoughtful, it’ll make me hard”.
Astonished, you look at him.
“What are you doing?”
He discards the jacket with a grin, hat and fake beard already discarded before entering the changing room.
“You didn’t think I’d leave in this, right?”.
“You could’ve waited until I left the room”.
Oliver rubs his chin in exasperating, fake pensiveness.
“Yeah, I could’ve”, his signature smirk makes you want to punch him in his handsome face, “but there’s this girl I like. Maybe if I impress her, she’ll finally give me a chance”.
You chalk the heat rising to your cheeks up to the thermostat temperature being too high. When you murmur a confused, hasty goodbye and attempt to make your leave, drawings safely tucked underneath one arm, Oliver gently wraps a hand around your wrist.
“It’s snowing. Let me give you a ride”, the way his thumb tentatively grazes the sliver of skin underneath your sleeve makes you shudder. He does it again, intentional, serious eyes boring into yours to make sure he's not crossing a boundary. Your mouth feels dry.
“Wait for me?”, Oliver offers, gentle. There’s no trace of his previous teasing and you’re painfully aware of how long the silence is stretching for, a weird vibration to the moment laced in your aching hesitation.
Another beat passes before you relax under his touch.
“I’ll be outside”.
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randomfoggytiger · 12 hours ago
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Hello, Tiger! I discovered TXF at the beginning of January 2024 and your blog recently and
 thank you! It's my reading material on TXF, I think you're great, don't ever stop writing. I haven't been able to see all your material yet, so I'm sorry if you've answered this question before: in your opinion, is there a possibility of continuing TXF, with Mulder and Scully in special appearances or should they leave the series alone, just in the memory of the fans? Happy 2025!
Thank you-- that means a lot a lot a lot. :,))))) Ask as many questions as you want. I'm always up for repeats!
As per your question, I'm part of the fandom faction that hopes The X-Files stays dead. I wasn't satisfied with the quality or care of the Revival, nor soothed by any remarks the writers have said since then. To them, the series has devolved into a jolly good time where anything can happen; to me, the show was always about preserving believability in the face of the unnatural. And, unfortunately, the quality of their work has seriously deteriorated; and they seem in no rush to alter or polish up said work.
I know there's a reboot underway... I think. I have no faith, at all, in the project because The X-Files does not have a good track record; but also because the potential new show runner hasn't expressed what drew him to the work-- except to say he has ideas to re-imagine it. If he can do something cool, creative, or fresh, good for him. It would have to be radically different for me to forget that Duchovny and Anderson are The X-Files. And, frankly, I'm not that curious to see what happens. Other tv show revivals and reboots have been bottom of the barrel, even when "updated" by the original writers; so.... Yeah. Perhaps I'm in my "trust no one" phase. ;)))
DD and GA have expressed interest, here or there, in one-off appearances as a "passing the torch" gesture to the next cast or crew. However, it all rides on Gillian's interest-- and she's been burned pretty badly-- because David won't do it without her (good man.) And I'm fine with that. I'd much prefer the two of them doing another podcast episode together, or bantering back and forth on social media.
I'm content that other fans accept all of canon or derive enjoyment from later canon-- taste is subjective, after all. :DDD Mine just can't stomach anything past Season 8, though I love to discuss the show as a whole and learn what others do (and don't) like about S9, IWTB, S10, and S11.
What do you think thus far, anon? You're always welcome to drop back in. And if you love what I don't or have different thoughts, let me know-- always curious!
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amiharana · 2 years ago
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BTS BOTW AU OMG WHAT??? pls share with the class immediately
LMFAODJFNKD it's honestly not even that interesting
back in 2019, i was writing for taegi week and the last day was a free day, and at the time i was still in my baby revalinker phase so i decided i wanted to write the most self-indulgent bts x botw au in which bts members took the places of botw characters. i actually had a tumblr post drafted to talk about this, but i guess we'll talk about it here now! in the case you are familiar with bts while also being a botw player, this could be of some interest to you.
i never actually got very far in writing it out (because i was 15 and school was beating my ass), but after reviewing the two unfinished drafts and the conceptual outlining style i do on every post, i remembered that i planned to rewrite the mount lanayru-calamity awakening memory with bts members as well as putting the revalink dynamic in there
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please don't laugh i was 15 when i wrote this LMFAODJFKFJKD i don't plan on showing you what the unfinished drafts look like because like i said, i never got very far in writing them so there's nothing of interest to really note in either of those
as you can from the pic, i wrote V/taehyung as revali and SUGA/yoongi as link. looking back on it now, i probably would not have chosen yoongi as link and i should have written taehyung as link and yoongi as revali because that makes more sense regarding their personalities, but i guess 15-year-old me was really set on that dynamic. other characters included:
RM/kim namjoon as princess zelda
park jimin as mipha
jeon jungkook as baby sidon LOL
j-hope/jung hoseok as daruk
jin/kim seokjin as urbosa
and *drumroll*
bang pd as king rhoam bosphoramus hyrule âœ‹đŸ˜©
i'm going to assume most of my mutuals and followers are probably not familiar with bts, so i'll try to give you a quick rundown!
V (or kim taehyung) is one of the group's vocalists and is one of my biases, or favorite member :> he's been my bias since 2018 when i became a bts fan! (the other one is jungkook he's the one in my pfp KJDHFHJKD) he has this show recently called 'jinny's kitchen' but i haven't watched it yet because i've been busy with school 😭 but from the clips i've seen that shit is funnyyy. SUGA (or min yoongi) is one of the rappers and he's coming out with a new album called 'D-DAY' soon + just released a song called 'people pt 2' ft. iu! the first part of 'people' on his last album was a fawking banger.
revalink had to be taehyung and yoongi because this au was originally intended to be uploaded for taehyung and yoongi (taegi)'s ship week. i definitely didn't place them as revali and link correctly, but i think know why i made it that way? there used to be this huge stereotype against yoongi that he was really mean and cold-hearted, and i was and always have been against that stereotype because bro really isn't like that. he's a soft sweet and sensitive tangerine boy fr! and making yoongi as revali wouldn't help that cause so i did what had to be done. i do think that taehyung still a relatively good fit for revali though; they be dramatic gays fr
RM (or kim namjoon) is the leader of bts, one of the rappers, and is a really smart guy. bro has an IQ of 148 and was also once one of the top 1% of students in south korea. so naturally, i made him zelda, the figurehead of the champions and the representation of the triforce of wisdom. but i was thinking about this connection more the other day when i first was writing out the post to talk about this, and i think namjoon and botw zelda actually have quite a few parallels. if anyone is interested in hearing more, please send an ask or a dm or something because i don't wanna make this post longer 😭
jimin is one of the group's vocalists and is also an incredible dancer. he had a solo debut recently with the album 'face' and title track 'like crazy' which you guys should all check out! :) but the reason why i put jimin as mipha is because he studied contemporary dance in high school and his personal style of dance tends to be very fluid and graceful, and like. do y'all see the connection lmao. mipha, being a zora in a watery domain? thus also being very fluid and graceful in her movements? TEEHEE
jungkook is the youngest member of the group another one of the vocalists and dancers, is my boyfriend and is Thee Golden Boy of K-pop and also the world. sidon being a baby pre-calamity and also everyone in general both in-game and online being obsessed with how boyfriend sidon is, as well as how polite and goofy jungkook is... i think the connection between jungkook and sidon is very clearly there LOL i also just didn't know how to include him in the story because i felt that jungkook just didn't fit into the personality of the other champions. if i had the chance to rewrite this au, i would have had jungkook as link because jungkook is so Main Character Vibes, and then taekook (taehyung and jungkook) would literally be revalink
back then, i remember having a difficult time trying to place who would be daruk and urbosa, but i think i made the right call with hoseok and jin. j-hope (or jung hoseok) is one of bts's rappers and is known as the sunshine of the group because he's just so energetic and positive, and i think that definitely matches with daruk's jovial and encouraging disposition. jin (kim seokjin) is one of the vocalists and is the eldest in the group, and as the kind of like "older brother" figure, he takes care of everyone in the group in a way that's different from how namjoon is as the leader y'know? i think urbosa fills that role for the champions because i personally think she might be the oldest of the group (daruk gives man in his 50s lowkey so i'm like hmmm) and takes care of them in a way that isn't the same as leading.
as for king rhoam bosphoramus hyrule... bang pd (or producer bang sihyuk) is the founder of the company bts is under and is the chairman of the label that bts eventually created. he is, in that sense, the "guy who made bts." he kind of has this fatherly relationship to the rest of bts, but that's where the similarities between him and king rhoam end LOL because rhoam is kind of an asshole who puts too much pressure on zelda and assembles the champions as his own tools to save the country, while bang pd is just this super chill guy who unlike other kpop ceos tends to stay out of the limelight and really just has a passion for making good music. but i thought it would be funny to emphasize a fatherly relationship between namjoon and bang pd KDJHFDKF
there's so many implied dynamics that could go here between the bts members as champions. like for one, taehyung and jimin are regarded as soulmate-besties in the bts fandom, so the implication that revali (taehyung) and mipha (jimin) are soulmate-besties is Feeding tf out of my brainworms like hell yeah. daruk and urbosa shenanigans are gonna line up perfectly with hoseok and jin's dynamic. NAMJOON (zelda) HAVING FEELINGS FOR YOONGI (link)? also lines up, these hoes have been living together for 10+ years and namjoon was practically proposing to yoongi in that one 'respect' performance.
idk.... maybe i'll come back to this, workshop it, and actually write it one day haha!
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medicinemane · 7 months ago
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also a legit favor to ask
please don't pray for me. it honestly makes me uncomfortable
i try not to bring it up cause i don't want to be an ass but... like i'm nothing, i don't believe in shit cause i just kinda don't care what comes after, too much going on here and now to deal with (too many people in trouble that need help and that's... that's the question that interests me... how to help, i just don't think about stuff after death enough to have an opinion and it's not like i'll know)
like understand, i don't like bringing this up cause i see too many of those asshole atheists that shit on prayer when it's like... buddy, i ain't gonna tell other people how to live their lives
but you gotta understand the context that stuff exists in, of very much a vocal portion of us christians wanting to do exactly that, tell me how to live my life based on things they believe but i don't... that's it, that's why i prefer not to be prayed for
cause i don't believe and just... lotta times where my views aren't respected on faith, at least on the big scale by certain groups, so for me... if there's a god (which i got no opinion on in either direction) i'd rather not have my name in their ear... i ain't part of nothin, i ain't asking for help or salvation, pray for all the people really suffering in this world instead cause they're the ones who need help
so listen, i'm not gonna get mad if you pray for me, i'm just tossing it out there that it's not my thing and it kinda makes me uncomfortable
just in a mood where i feel like saying this is all. not about anything or anyone, just a thought i forget why i even had it... it's just not for me, and if it's real important to you that's fine, but it's not for me
(clarification: anyway; i hope the take away from this post is what i want it to be; that if praying for me really makes you feel better that's fine, but it's not what i care for, though my opinions aren't solid enough that it's like hurtful or something)
#if i were gonna be anything i think i'd be jewish#for many reasons; one being a i grew up around a bunch of jews i really liked; like i said; i found my dreidel from elementary school#but second cause stuff like hallelujah with lines like 'maybe there's a god above'... that resonates much more with me#the questioning; the saying i don't know the answer and i never will i can only stumble blindly#if that were a question i wanted to ask; i think judaism is where i'd find the thing that most felt like how i feel about stuff#but i'm not jewish and i'll never be; mostly cause i'll never ask to learn and join#legit even since i was little my feeling was kinda 'i'm not jewish but i kinda wish i was'#which may sound like a strange thing with all the antisemitism in the world#but that's the honest truth... that's how i felt when i was small and it's how i feel now#but i'm not ever gonna be; i'd never try to convert... it's not the path for me#i'm nothing; even agnostic... it describes me best; but i'm just not big on labels#i yam what i yam; and i suppose i ain't what i ain't and i ain't a theist or all that interested in the afterlife#...most i can really muster is putting it out there that any of my past cats will always be welcome in this house#mm tag so i can find things later#i got like 2 scenarios i'd like from being dead; and one is to stop existing#don't need that for everyone else; they all go to heaven or nirvana or whatever that's wonderful#i need to be done though#second option you don't get to hear
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taeyongdoyoung · 7 days ago
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that's a warning
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summary: your professor's age is not a problem to you. and neither is his dark secret... pairing: professor!chan x uni student!reader genre: dark academia, vampire!au, smut warnings: professor/student dynamic, age gap (unspecified), mentions of toxic friend, descriptions of blood, kissing, biting, eating out, blowjob, daddy kink (who's surprised?), ddlg implied, size kink, unprotected sex, forbidden relationship, insecurities, danger kink author's note: this is based on a dream i had + inspired by railway, obviously. read at your own risk đŸ„” too many references to the song's lyrics in bold, sawrryyy word count: 3k
The moment you set your eyes on Professor Bang, you know that you need to have him. You've never felt an attraction so intense, so overpowering, so sinister in its obsession. You are willing to go to any lengths to get close to him. Even if it kills you.
It starts off innocent, almost childlike. The way you stay after his lectures to ask him silly questions (you know the answers to) about the homework. Sometimes you ask him about the location of other lecture halls (even though you've been to them hundreds of times). Sometimes you go to his office hours just to be alone with him (even though you are perfectly confident in understanding the study material).
At first, Chan accepts your incessant flood of questions with an easy-going smile. If he's being honest with himself, he likes the attention. It's been a while since someone's been that interested in talking to him. Especially someone so
young. Most students usually avoid his intense stare. He's been told it's far too intimidating. He tries to be welcoming to everyone but he's not sure he's doing a good job.
But as the semester nears its end, his patience wears thin. You always get full marks on your assignments and quizzes so he doesn't understand why you are constantly asking for his "help". And he's certain you know your way around the university better than any other student. You're always on time and your homework is flawless 100% of the time. So, he really doesn't get it. Are you messing with him? Is it funny to you to joke around with a poor old lonely professor?
Chan's decided he's had enough. And this time, when you catch him alone after the lecture, he's going to confront you.
"Cut the act," Professor Bang scolds you directly. "I know you know the answer to that question. Why are you doing this to me?"
"Doing what, Professor Bang?" you ask innocently, while batting your eyelashes.
"Pretending you're dumb. It's obvious you're a top student, so why are you always asking me stuff?" he grunts and pins you down with his intense gaze you're so addicted to.
Hell, you've never felt more terrified. It excites you.
"Don't you know already?" you mumble quietly. You want to look away but you're trapped in his beautiful dark eyes. So you don't.
"Is it fun, messing with an old man like me, huh? Is it some stupid college dare?" Chan asks, his insecurities getting the worst of him.
"You're not old," you insist passionately. "There's no dare. I just
like you."
"You
like me?" he repeats in disbelief.
You nod furiously, trying to convince him of your sincerity.
"But
why?"
"What do you mean why? You're so smart and handsome and sometimes even cute. I like
how you explain stuff like you don't think anyone is dumb, you're so patient and
warm."
Huh. Warm? It's been a while since someone's used that word to describe him, Chan thought.
"You do realize we could both get in trouble if
" he can't even believe he's even considering this. "If we were to
pursue something outside of the university walls?"
Fuck it, he said it.
"I know. I won't tell anyone, I promise," you are desperately grasping at straws as you find yourself so close to the one thing you've ever wanted more than anything.
Professor Bang shakes his head.
"I'm not asking you to keep it a complete secret. Just
if you choose to share it with people, be careful who you trust."
"I understand, Professor, I'll be careful," you promise.
"And
call me Chris or Chan or something," he shrugs. "When it's just us two."
God. It's really happening.
"Let me take you out to a restaurant," he offers suddenly. "Tomorrow evening?"
"That sounds amazing!" you grin excitedly.
Your first date with Chan arrives and you are so happy you feel like you could die. You don't wanna jinx things so soon and don't tell anyone where you're going.
"You look stunning," he compliments your dress as he pulls a chair out for you.
"Thank you so much, Chris," you smile and take a seat. "You look absolutely dashing, as always."
He chuckles but doesn't respond rightaway.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, it's just
I don't hear that much. Especially not from beautiful young women such as yourself."
"You're surely joking?" you frown. "Anyone would kill to be in my shoes right now."
"You're too kind," Chan replies, not seeming to believe your words and you decide to drop the subject. For now. "What would you like to drink?"
"Hmm
maybe some red wine?"
"Good choice," he smirks. "And food?"
"I'm really into pasta these days!" you squeal with excitement.
Chris orders for the two of you, making your heart flutter for the hundredth time. He's just
so dependable.
Till the food arrives, you busy yourselves with getting to know each other better. Outside of the university walls, it turns out you are both passionate about things other than academic endeavours. And with each glass of red, it becomes easier to share stuff about yourself with him.
As the evening nears its natural conclusion, Chan insists on paying the bill for the food and drinks.
"Now I feel bad," you pout adorably, clinging onto his arm for support, because all the wine made your legs slightly unstable. "Let's go for coffee!"
"I don't
really drink coffee," Chris confesses shyly.
"Tea, then! Please, I don't want to go home just yet. This night is so perfect, I don't want it to end."
"Okay, okay," he agrees easily.
You lead the way to one of your favourite cafés. This time, you excitedly pay for the warm beverages.
"It's snowing outside!" you marvel at the pretty snowflakes falling, illuminated by the street lights.
"Good thing we're all cozy and inside, then," Chan chuckles.
"Yeah
" you smile softly. "I really like you, Chan," you admit.
"I know, you said that a couple of times," he shakes his head, amused.
"Yes, but
you didn't say anything. Do you like me, too?" you inquire self-consciously.
"I do like you. You're very clever and funny and obviously super pretty."
"Really?" you blink furiously to stop yourself from tearing up. You don't get to hear something like that by someone you admire so much. Someone who inspires you to be as diligent and hard-working as him. Scratch that. You don't get to hear words like that very often. It sometimes strikes you how badly you need to be acknowledged for your efforts.
"You must know that."
"No, actually, I don't," you smile sadly. "But it's really nice of you to say it. True or not."
Chan stretches his hand out across the table to hold yours.
"Hey. It's true, okay?"
"Guess I'll stick around to find out, yeah? And maybe I'll help you believe it, too," you suggest.
"Maybe. I'd really like that."
And stick around you do. The next semester, Chan is no longer your Professor, so you don't have to worry so much about getting in trouble with the university's authorities. Eventually, as things start becoming more serious, you decide to share the news about your boyfriend's identity with a few of your closest friends.
Luckily, most of them are super supportive and happy about your relationship. They tell you that you've looked happier recently and are pleased to finally know the reason. There is one friend, however, who is completely against.
"I don't approve. You can't date him," she outright says.
"Can't? Excuse me?" you become aggravated. You've had some fights in the past, situations when she's been jealous of you hanging out with other friends and has done some toxic stuff behind your back. So, her reaction doesn't come as a complete surprise. But still, it sucks that she hasn't outgrown this kind of pettiness.
"He's like
too old for you. And the fact he was your Professor is just
gross."
"How can you say that? You've never even met him."
"Then, let me meet him."
"Why would you meet him if you've already made up your mind?"
"To make sure he's worthy of you, duh."
"That's my call to make. Not yours."
And with that, you leave. This is just
too much. Later, you talk to another friend about this situation to get a second opinion.
"Nah, fuck her. I mean, it's your relationship, she can't dictate how you feel or who you're seeing romantically."
"Right? That's exactly what I've been thinking."
"It sucks that she said those stuff but maybe you're better off," your other friend shrugs.
"Yeah
For the time being, I'll distance myself from her. If she starts acting like an adult, only then will I consider letting her back in."
"That's totally valid," your friend agrees. "Take your time and look after your mental health."
"Thank you so much. I knew you'd get it."
"Always!"
Soon after that, you hang out at Chan's place and you decide to talk talk to him about the falling-out with that toxic friend.
"Well, technically, I am too old for you."
"The fuck you are! Are you taking her side?" you cry out passionately.
"Hell, no! I'm just saying
you could find any college guy your age and
"
"No, shut up, Chris!" you shake your head, refusing to entertain such an idea. "I don't want anyone but you!"
"But I'm dangerous for you," Chan sighs. But you can't believe that. He's been nothing but kind and accepting in the short time you've known each other.
"What do you mean?" you ask.
"You'd think I'm crazy if I told you," he grins somewhat devilishly. "It'd be better if I showed you instead. But then, I'd have to kill you."
"W-what?" you stammer, his behaviour totally unlike the gentle guy you're used to seeing.
Suddenly, Chris grabs your wrist and starts pulling you somewhere.
"W-where are we g-going?" you ask helplessly but he doesn't respond. He's too strong to fight him back so you just try to keep up with his speed and follow him down the stairs and into the basement. Where you'll find answers to questions you didn't even know you were supposed to be asking.
When he unlocks the door, you are greeted with red. A lot of it.
"What is all this?"
"Come on, sweetheart, I thought you were smarter than that," Chris chuckles.
"It's
blood banks," you state the obvious, feeling dumber than ever.
"Wow, you don't say," Chris replies sarcastically.
"Why
why do you have all this blood in your basement? Is it like a
kink thing?!" you gasp in shock.
"No, darling, it's not a kink thing," he laughs, the idea incredibly amusing. "Take a guess."
"Are you a serial killer?" you try to think of a logical explanation.
"You're too realistic," Chris sighs. "Think
something you never thought possible."
"You're
a vampire!" you exclaim triumphantly.
"Bingo," he confirms unenthusiastically. "So, your friend was correct to worry. I am too old for you. And bad for you. I never should have let this go so far."
You shake your head.
"N-no, she's not right," you disagree. "I don't care."
"You don't care?" Chris tilts your chin up, facing you directly. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to restrain myself from sucking your blood dry?"
You gulp nervously but refuse to believe he'd actually do that. Especially considering he hasn't done so already

"Why did you become a Professor surrounded by so many humans if self-control is so hard for you?" you push back cleverly.
"It's never been a problem for me to control my thirst. Until you."
"Then, why did you let me get so close?" you inquire.
"Because I was weak
And lonely. I shouldn't have let you in."
Your eyes tear up with emotion.
"Are you saying you'd be happier without me?"
"Happier?" Chris scoffs. "No, I wouldn't be happier. But you would be safer without me."
"Fuck that," you argue. "I am safe when it's just you and me. Knowing you're a vampire changes nothing about how I feel about you."
"Then, you're even more insane than I am," Chris sighs, unable to deny the growing tension between you two.
You kiss him roughly to prove him right, digging your fingers into his soft hair. He kisses you back just as hungrily, incapable of letting you go.
Yes, he may be dangerous for you. But so are you. Willingly pursuing him, not running away from him despite knowing the truth.
He grabs your hair and pulls back, exposing your neck.
"Last chance to get out of here. That's a warning," Chris whispers darkly.
"Is that a threat or a promise?" you grin, completely trusting him.
Even if he was your Professor, even if he is way older than you than you initially thought, even if he is a blood-sucking predator, there is no one else you'd trust so unconditionally, so irrevocably.
"What if I hurt you?" he asks, a hint of worry making his dark eyes glow with warmth.
"You couldn't," you insist and close your eyes, tilting your neck. "You can bite me, if you want."
"You're crazy," Chris repeats.
"I trust you," you speak your thoughts out loud.
And this is his breaking point. He attacks your neck with his sharp fangs, not wanting to hold back any longer. The bite stings but in such a sweet way you would be happy to go, if this was your fate
As he drinks from you, you weakly wrap your hands around his neck for support, needing him to ground you. Just as badly as he needed one taste from your delicious blood. If your blood is what Chris needs for survival, then he will surely be your undoing.
Somehow, against all reason, Chan manages to detach his fangs from your neck.
"Fuck," he caresses your neck, smearing the blood all over your porcelain skin. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," you murmur dazedly. "I'm okay."
He holds you close, kissing your cheeks and trying to clean up the mess he made.
"Let's get out of here," Chan suggests and lifts you in his arms, carrying you back to the coziness of his place.
"I don't mind," you reassure him. "You being a vampire, that is. I love every part about you. I love...you."
"You
love me?" Chan gasps in surprise.
"I do, I love you," you say once again for good measure.
He doesn't say anything, just kisses you again in disbelief. You hug him tightly, finding so much comfort in his arms. Whatever you've heard about vampires doesn't apply to Chan. He's radiating so much warmth you feel you could burn.
"Hold on tight," he warns and you grip the headboard top rail for dear life, as Chan makes sure to show you blood is not the only thing he's interested in drinking.
As he laps up your juices greedily, you find yourself on the verge of losing your sanity. Your hands give out and you let go of the bed's railings and opt for burying your fingers into his curls once more for support.
"Chris, please, please," you cry out, not even sure what you're begging for. For him to stop? For sweet release? It doesn't matter, as long as he stays with you.
Soon enough, your prayers are answered and you start seeing stars floating in the middle of the room.
"Did I kill you already?" he laughs upon seeing your reaction.
"Try harder," you tease him, even though you are already so gone.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," Chris shrugs.
He takes off his jeans and stuffs your mouth full with his giant cock. You try to babble something but it's no use and your helplessness only turns him on more. You hug the back of his knees and let him fuck your throat as he pleases, even though you don't have much of a choice in the matter. Your vision is cloudy with tears and you can't even ask for mercy as his cum starts flooding your mouth. If you thought him drinking your blood was overwhelming, this is on a whole 'nother level of dizzying.
Once he's done using and abusing your throat, he pulls his cock out, smirking at you from above.
"You okay, sweetheart? Still alive?"
"Y-yes, d-daddy," you manage to croak out weakly.
Chris shakes his head in amusement upon hearing the sudden title.
"Then, I guess Daddy's gonna have to give ya a rough ride so you'll forget your own name, huh? How does that sound?"
"More, please," you plead desperately and he makes good on his promise.
He enters you without another warning and you can't keep your screams inside.
"G-god, y-yes," you moan.
"God isn't in this room, darling," Chris cackles maniacally. "The devil, however
"
You kiss him again because he's talking so much your brain can't keep up.
"S-so b-big," you cry.
"Yeah? Too big for my little girl?" he teases you.
"N-no. P-perfect. You're perfect," you insist stubbornly.
Chris fucks into you with supernatural stamina and you are grateful for that because even though you want to, you aren't able of keeping pace with him. Instead, you are happy to just hold onto him and focusing all your energy into
well, not passing out. You're so wet for him that his enormous size slides in and out easily, satisfying both of you with the intensity of the feeling. At last, you cum together, overwhelmed by the passion and affection you feel for each other.
He collapses on top of you, not wanting to pull out just yet. You welcome his weight like he's a giant blanket, comforting you.
"Don't wanna let go of you," Chan murmurs cutely.
You stroke his hair once more with a gentle touch. How is this man who has so many more years of experience still such a cute boy, desperate for tenderness?
"Then, don't. I'm all yours to keep," you chuckle weakly.
"That wouldn't be very productive to our academic future," Chan complains.
"It's okay. I feel like we've both earned a little break," you point out.
"From university? Sure. But when it comes to us two
I need no break. No brakes."
"Nicely said," you giggle, ready for another round on this train that never sleeps.
The End
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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago
Note
noona. noon. any angsty thoughts to share for the duke au? đŸ‘ïž (i’m craving angst sorry)
Original post
I DO!! Angst version of the au would be if you weren’t welcomed at all. Sure, no one is being flat out rude to you, no one is actively sabotaging you and John doesn’t hit or force you into anything.
But it’s lonely.
The maids barely touch you, as if disgusted they have to help and tend to the woman their Duke needed to and not wanted to marry, and the butlers are the same. Especially the head butler Garrick. You still don’t know his first name and he doesn’t seem inclined to tell you.
During the dinner
 nights with John, you’ve started noticing that your food isn’t quite as well done as his? Less decorated, occasionally burnt or not cooked well, but you don’t want to cause any trouble so you remain silent and John never asks why you seem to eat so little.
You do also meet Duke Riley, the man that John is said to have an incredibly close friendship with, something born during his time servicing the kingdom. You’ve heard so much about him, from bad to good, and you wonder how he actually is.
In the end, you wish you hadn’t met him, too. The humiliation of being flat-out ignored in your own home while he speaks amicably with John

So yes. Life as Duchess Price isn’t a happy one, but you are just glad you aren’t physically hurting.
But you do find solace in the only kindness your parents had bothered to show you before they gave you away; your personal knight, König. He is the only one to not treat you as such. He is the only one you can confide in, feel just a little bit of happiness and friendship with even if you haven’t even seen his face yet.
“I’m so tired,” you whisper to him one night, under the blanket of the night sky. You’d thrown a simple shawl over your shoulders, and hadn’t questioned it when he fell in steps behind you, always a protective shadow. Today had been hard. You had also decided to no longer dine with John, not too excited about the lackluster food and the stilted conversations. Cold maids, lonely night
 you ached for something more.
You take in a shuddering breath, wrapping the shawl tighter around yourself. Konig stands right beside the bench you are sitting on, a familiar and comforting sight and presence. But tonight, it’s not enough. “I’m so tired, König.” You repeat, your voice cracking.
König simply stares at you for a while; you are used to it, used to everything about him. The mask, the accent, the unyielding body that is always keeping you safe. The quiet congestions you have had, during the days you lock yourself away in your office to ignore the loneliness and sadness plaguing you.
You aren’t used to seeing König bend down in front of you, holding his hands out until you place them in his. Familiar pale eyes peer up at you. Proper etiquette doesn’t matter to you in this moment; who will chastise you for the lack of it when this entire duchy holds only the most basic form of respect for you?
Even if they did, you would not let go of König, your confidant. Your knight.
“
What do you need, mylady?”
After a silent moment, you take in a deep breath and look back at him. “
I want
 someone who loves me enough to be kind towards me. I want someone who loves me.”
König nods his head. With bated breath, you watch silently as he brings your hands forward, under his mask, to kiss each knuckle on your hands.
“I am your knight, mylady. I am your sword, and your shield. I, too, can be your lover if that is what you want, mylady. Whatever you desire, it is my duty to provide.” König breathes out against your skin, eyes not once flicking away, words not once breaking. He is fully devoted in his decision. “Will you allow me, mylady? The decision is your, always has been. I cannot take you away from this horrible place-“ not yet. “-but I can give you my love and devotion, just as I’ve always done. Will you allow me, mylady?”
And after everything you’ve been through, all the pain and loneliness and exclusion- you can’t say no.
“
Yes, König.”
(By the time John begins to realize that he may have misjudged you, once you find out the truth, it is already far too late for mending any bridges. There is no particular feeling when you look at him, or any of his men. You only ask that no one bothers your time alone with your shadow, your knight. It’s far too late for anything.)
Part 2 + dukedom au masterlist
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ambivalence-is-me · 3 months ago
Text
All I Want (One-Shot)
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Summary: Do opposites really attract? Feyre didn’t think so but Y/N and Azriel prove her wrong.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: fluff
A/N: this is kinda from Feyre’s pov, beginning of ACOMF. I’m in love with the idea of someone from the outside looking at two people in love. I’m thinking of turning this into a series? Or just more one shots? Like write about the dates, the wedding, that stuff. Let me know if anyone would be interested to read it!
————————————————————-
Feyre was shocked. Well, lately it seemed that’s all she was: shocked with a side of skeptical and scared. How else was she supposed to feel after everything she’s been through? She’s thinking of the very first times Rhysand took her to the Night Court. It was during one of those ‘’visits’’ that she first met you.
‘’She’ll help you with anything you need’’ he had said and that you did.
Feyre had taken one look at you and didn’t really know what to think. Physically you didn’t look like a threat, you were beautiful (it seemed there weren’t ugly faes) and your posture was relaxed, like you weren’t standing in front of the Cursebreaker but just another fae. You were smiling kindly at her, no judgement in your eyes and then you started talking.
And you never really stopped.
You were a yapper. Answered all of Feyre’s questions as best as you could and more. You walked her through the court’s history, culture, customs, everything. On her second meeting with you, she had concluded you definitely weren’t a threat. Instead, you were easygoing, kind and just freaking
happy? It seemed like you were always shinning, that nothing can bring you down. Feyre had tested that after a particularly bad day when Rhysand was driving her up the wall. But instead of running away, you stayed and helped her, saving Rhys from another shoe-throwing incident.
You had this soft and gentle angle that reminded her of her sister Elain. But you weren’t quite as graceful as Elain. You were louder, clumsier and upbeat, not afraid to strike up a conversation with anyone about anything. And you definitely weren’t like her sister Nesta but she could tell you shared her observation skills.
Truthfully, for Feyre, you were a saving grace. Someone she could go to in this new world that was thrown at her. She never really expressed any of this of course, scared that if someone found out you’d be in harm's way but she kept you close to her whenever possible.
That’s why Feyre was extremely happy that you were accompanying her to a dinner with Rhysand’s family. Thanks to the information Feyre had gathered from you and meeting them beforehand briefly, she inferred that you obviously knew them but you never stated what was your relationship with them.
Which is why Feyre is now shocked to see the turn of events.
She had expected you to be close friends with them, how can you not? You were a social butterfly and if Rhysand’s family was anything like him, she was sure you had befriended all of them. And you had but not in the way Feyre had expected.
‘’Feyre darling, care to share why you look so shocked?’’ Rhysand asked her with that stupid smile of his. But she couldn’t even bother to answer him, not when she was still staring at the scene in front of her.
Again, Feyre had met these faes
briefly. She’d experience Mor’s welcoming energy, Cassian’s cheeky smiles and jokes, Amren’s silver bright eyes and of course
Azriel’s quiet and intimidating presence. The latter preferring to stay in his shadows and observe the chaos around him.
Which is why Feyre NEVER expected for him to be with
you.
Obviously Feyre didn’t know him, not at all, just what you and Rhysand had told her but she was confident that her observations of him helped her come up with an idea of him. It seemed that she was wrong.
They were all gathered in this beautiful grand room, just chatting and sipping on expensive wine before dinner. Cassian and Amren were in conversation in a corner of the room, the latter looking annoyed at whatever the big Illyrian was saying. You, Mor and Azriel occupied a big comfortable looking sofa. You and Mor leading the dialogue and Azriel, unsurprisingly, was just sitting there listening and assessing. But that’s not what had Feyre shocked. No, it was the fact that you were almost sitting on the Shadowsinger’s lap.
He had one whole arm wrapped around your waist, it screamed ‘’she’s mine’’. His other hand touching your hair softly, as if he put any more pressure on it, it would break. His eyes went back and forth between all of the faes in the room but stayed mostly on you. And Feyre didn’t know if he knew that he was smiling.
SMILING
A small soft smile that Feyre didn’t know the Shadowsinger was capable of. It made him look a thousand times more irresistible. A thought that didn’t go unnoticed by Rhys, who arched an eyebrow at her in return. But Feyre didn’t say anything, she opted to try and hide her surprise and continue on with the evening.
An evening that only continue to bamboozle her. At the dinner table, you were sitting infront of Feyre. Azriel on your left side, Cassian on your right. It was a pretty funny picture Feyre would love to paint. Your frame and sunshine aura in the middle of two big intimidating Illyrian soldiers. As she had expected, you were mostly leading the conversation during dinner. Cassian and Mor quickly keeping up with your jokes and laughter, Rhysand chimed in at times but seemed content to take it all in with a soft smile. But Feyre was observing Azriel and Azriel was observing you.
His eyes didn’t seem to wander off too much, seemingly staying on you throughout the night. He looked at you like you held the world in your hands. Honestly, Feyre had never seen anything like this up close. There were no doubts that this male was incredibly in love with you and honestly, Feyre didn’t even know how to react.
Feyre thought she loved Tamlin at one point but now, after witnessing how Azriel looked at you, just this one look, she was extremely in the wrong.
If you moved, Azriel moved. He was so attentive to your needs: refilling your drinks, serving you more food, he held your hand, brushed your hair away from your face; all of it without you having to ask once. At one point, you looked at him with a smile Feyre hadn’t seen from you before and kissed his temple. An act so simple and yet so intimate that Feyre had to look away. Small tears graced the corner of her eyes, her chest felt so
whole?
She was in a room full of so much love that it was overwhelming her. This isn’t what she expected at all.
You seemed to notice that something was wrong with Feyre. Asking her with your eyes what was wrong. But she didn’t say anything, just gave her a look that you hoped would understand that said ‘’we’ll talk later’’. And later you did.
‘’You’re with Azriel?!’’ She had all but exploded the next day when it was just the two of you.
You smiled and said ‘’Yes’’ like it was a fact so obvious that Feyre should’ve have known. But it only confused her more.
‘’But-you-you’re so
’’
‘’Different?’’ You finished. The same smile still on your face. Feyre could only nod.
This wasn’t the first time someone had questioned your relationship with Azriel. To be fair, you were the very first one to question it back when you started courting a couple of hundred years ago. Because the truth was that you and him truly were opposites. You, an extrovert and him obviously an introvert.
But it was your differences that somehow made it work, that completed each other. At the beginning it had taken time. You never seemed to stop talking and you worried that it was only annoying Azriel. But you never did, at least, he insists that you don’t. But you’ve learned to know his little quirks and expressions. You’ve learned when to stop your yapping around him, particularly only for few moments after he’s had a bad day. You’ve learned his ways, and he learned yours.
He learned to interpret the moments when you kept a conversation going because you wanted to and not because you felt like you HAD to. He learned how to ground you back and remind you that your job wasn’t to make everyone’s day brighter. He learned to take care of you, and you took care of him.
You explained all of this to Feyre, a soft smile never leaving your face when you talked about your Shadowsinger and Feyre couldn’t help but smile back.
‘’In the human world, we- ‘’..She cleared her throat. ‘’When people love each other, they get married but here that seems so
miniscule. Like, marriage isn’t enough for the love you and Azriel have.’’
It was the best thing Feyre could say because really, she didn’t know how else to compare the love you and Azriel seemed to have.
You beamed at that. ‘’I thought the same actually but our wedding day was one of the best days of my life. Right after our mating ceremony.’’
Feyre looked confused. Mating ceremony? But you only kept smiling.
‘’ We’d already been married for a hundred years when the bond snapped. Mating bonds are so special and rare, Feyre’’ You looked at her.
‘’I was already blessed to have found a male that loved me and all of my loudness. And then, to be gifted a mating bond with him?’’ You shook your head as if you still couldn’t believe it.
In truth, even many years later, you still couldn’t. And that was all Azriel. He made you feel so incredibly happy and whole. He still made you feel like a fool, as if you’re a female who’s experiencing falling in love for the first time. And perhaps that’s why the shock Feyre had felt still hadn’t left. Because she couldn’t comprehend how you and Azriel made it look like it was just yesterday that you got together. Like you were still in the honeymoon phase.
Feyre had seen married couples in her village. They fought and yelled at each other frequently, almost never held hands and especially didn’t show public display of affection. But what you and Azriel had didn’t look like that AT ALL.
Later, after you had left saying ‘’Azriel said he had a surprise but I’m pretty sure I know what it is. I don’t care what his job description is, I can find out what he’s planning!’’, Feyre was still processing your love story.
It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem real that two people/fae could love each other so much, who would do absolutely freaking anything, including die, for each other. After her experience with Tamlin, Feyre wasn’t sure if she’d ever have what you and Azriel have. Deep down inside, she wanted it. She felt like she didn’t deserve it, specially after what she’s done but
she hoped that maybe one day, however far it may be, she would have someone who would look at her like Azriel looks at you.
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narizaki · 6 months ago
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sticky notes   sakusa kiyoomi x reader
―   tags   fem reader,   fluff,   roommates to something close to lovers,   timeskip kiyoomi
―   notes   wc is 1.8k,   i wrote this on a whim so please forgive ooc kiyoomi, also please forgive any grammar mistakes lmao
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you and sakusa have been communicating through notes for the past three months.
at first, you had mindlessly written down a few groceries you needed to buy on a sticky note, pasting it onto the fridge so you wouldn’t forget. it included some of the basics: eggs, flour, rice, milk, and other necessities for you and your roommate’s fridge. 
then, the next time you came home, you were greeted by a bright yellow sticky note seated next to your pink one. it said:
protein powder
lettuce
masks (the white ones)
between your full-time job and sakusa’s hectic schedule as a professional volleyball player, the two of you hardly saw each other, if at all. especially with sakusa’s new status on the olympic team. it wasn’t bad, per se, as you’d never been the closest to him — he was closed-off and, frankly, intimidating. it was like the man would go to any lengths to avoid interacting with others. regardless, his small addition to your grocery list had made you laugh. 
you checked off the items he wanted, and the sticky note was gone the next day.
from then, the two of you only ever communicated with each other this way. one of you would write the groceries they needed to get that weekend, and the other would make their additions to the list. it was effective, simple, and considering how the only post-it notes the either of you owned were offensively bright colors, hard to miss. 
after a while, you began adding little comments in addition to the list of items you needed to buy. they were short and sweet, like a thanks! written in the corner of your post-it detailing the items you needed sakusa to buy, or there are leftovers in the fridge after you made too much for dinner. you weren’t expecting sakusa to respond to them, given his stand-offish nature. so, when he did, you were surprised. no; scratch that, you were elated. although his replies weren’t anything extraordinary, just a simple you’re welcome or thank you for the food written in his neat handwriting under your own, it felt like a break in your relationship with sakusa. 
despite knowing him for a while now, the two of you stayed as acquaintances and nothing more. but, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to know more about him. and though unconventional, the sticky notes worked perfectly for this.
writing to each other using post-its became such a habit that sakusa bought a magnetic whiteboard. you were only made aware of it when you walked into the kitchen to see it set up. there was a note already written in black marker on the board, stating that the post-it notes were beginning to be a waste of paper. you made sure to write a large thanks, sakusa! with the same marker, adding a few hearts around it.
(and if sakusa flushed red at the sight of his name with hearts surrounding it, only he would know.) 
whenever your friends came over, they would question the purpose of the whiteboard. you couldn't blame them; it did take up the better half of your fridge's surface. they had a good laugh when you explained the story behind it, but some asked why couldn’t you just text each other?
and, honestly? you didn’t know either.
you knew it would be more efficient if you were to text sakusa instead of patiently waiting for his replies on the dry-erase board every day. but, if you wanted to, you knew you would’ve done it a while ago; before he even had the idea of buying the whiteboard, back when the two of you were conversing through neon sticky notes and wasting an unnecessary amount of paper. 
you surmise it’s because you didn't want to ruin your and sakusa’s relationship — if you could even call it that. texting him would forcefully pull him into your orbit. though you’ve been regularly interacting with him for the past few months, you were aware that you hardly knew anything about the man; small notes and lists only gave you so much information about a person. the whiteboard was a safe in-between — you learn a little more about him and his habits, while not forcing him to interact with you. 
well, you think, he’s not obligated to answer my texts, either. you have his number, and it’s not like you haven’t texted him before. there was only so much you could do when you weren’t home to pick up packages or forget to inform him of a repairman coming over. 
you mull over the decision, a short text already typed into your conversation with sakusa. your finger hovers over the send button, before you furiously spam the delete key and put your phone down. no, nevermind. 
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your plan of staying content with your relationship fails miserably.
it’s been a hard few weeks at work, with seemingly endless deadlines you have to meet and an equally endless amount of meetings you’ve had to attend. you feel as if you haven’t had a moment to yourself in forever.
so, when you submit your most recent project to your boss and shut your laptop closed, the first thing on your mind is to go home and rest. your mind is on auto-pilot as you pack your belongings, spitting out no’s to your co-workers' offers to go out drinking. when you’re this tired, the last thing you want to do is wake up with a splitting headache and an awful hangover the next day.
you stumble into your apartment, hastily toeing your heels off. a sigh leaves you, the harsh pressure of the shoe finally being relieved. they’re thrown somewhere in the corner, probably not anywhere close to where they should be, but you’ll deal with that tomorrow. all you want is some sleep. you consider just crashing on the couch and dealing with the consequences tomorrow.
“rough day?” a flat voice asks. you jump at the noise, not expecting anyone to be in your apartment. when you look up, you’re greeted by a tall figure standing in front of you. your eyes take a moment to rack over them, not completely registering that the only other person who has access to your apartment is

sakusa.
“huh
?” you mutter, blinking a few times to will the tiredness from your eyes. it doesn’t work. sakusa only sighs, stepping from the doorway and further into your home. there’s a look on his face that’s telling you to follow, but when you don’t out of pure shock because he’s here? like, actually here? at home? he rolls his eyes.
“come on,” he says, “there’s food on the stove already.” 
you continue to stay silent, causing sakusa to raise an eyebrow. your face is scrunched up, a hand on the wall next to you to support your weight.
“are you
am i hallucinating
?” you mumble, internally debating if you wanted to pinch yourself to make sure that you’re not dreaming in any way. “i thought you weren’t going to be back for a while?” 
in response to your delirious rambling, sakusa laughs. it’s rather quiet, but you know he does. you hear the rapid exhalation of air accompanied by a deep rumble coming from his chest, and you can see his shoulders shaking. 
he steps closer to you, forcing your bag from your shoulder and practically pulling you with him into your shared living room. you’re tripping over your feet, mind still fuzzy from your tiring day. 
“leave it up to you to not be able to think properly after a long day,” he murmurs, setting your bag down on the couch. in your half-awake daze, you’re unable to form a proper response. “i guess you’re not hungry then.”
“well
” you stammer, still trying to get your bearings. “you’re like, never home, sakusa
so how am i supposed to react when you practically teleport in front of me?” you finish, a yawn escaping you. that makes sakusa laugh again. 
“for your information, i didn’t teleport in front of you,” he replies, “i heard the door open, so i went to greet my roommate. now, go get ready for bed.”
you disregard what he says, opting to groan when he orders you to get ready for bed. it just seems like so much work. you have to take off your makeup, change, brush your teeth, do your skincare
you think you’d rather crash face-first on your couch, like you were planning on doing earlier. you tell him that much.
sakusa rolls his eyes again. he pushes you towardsthe bathroom, telling you to take off your makeup, while he goes to rummage in your room for sleepwear. what? 
you don't have much of a choice, so you follow his directions. beginning with your meticulous skincare routine, you cleanse off your makeup. while you’re drying your face, sakusa knocks on the bathroom door with a fresh pair of pajamas for you to change into. 
once you’ve completed your nightly routine, you wander out of the bathroom to find sakusa sitting on the couch. he seems preoccupied with something on his phone, and you have to admit that the sight of him concentrating is rather charming. 
thankfully, the cold water you’d splashed onto your face woke you up, so you’re more awake than you were when you’d entered. you’re still horribly tired, and you want nothing but to sleep in the comfort of your bed, but you feel bad going straight to bed without even thanking sakusa for taking care of you. the only way the two of you talked for the last few months  was over post-it notes, for god's sake! 
“hey, sakusa?” you call, and his attention snaps from his phone to you. “thanks for uh
taking care of me. sorry about all that, i was really tired. or, er, am really tired.” you awkwardly stutter out. 
he hums in response, standing up from the couch and taking long strides towards you. thanks to his height, he’s face-to-face with you in no time. he’s close — maybe a little too close for someone you think probably doesn't even consider you a friend. that leads you to another realization: for someone that you knew disliked social interaction, he’s also talked to you an awful lot today.
“if you were really thankful, you’d go to bed right now and eat what i made tomorrow. you’re exhausted.” he bluntly replies. you gape at him for a moment, about to reply, but he cuts you off. “i’ll be home more often. volleyball is in the off-season now.” 
you know you should just nod and turn on your heel to go to bed, but there’s a question on the tip of your tongue that slips before you’re able to catch it. 
“so
 no more whiteboard notes?” you question. sakusa laughs for a third time that night, and you think you’ve hit the jackpot in your slightly delirious state. 
he shakes his head. “no more whiteboard notes for now.”
you wake up the next morning, and when you enter the kitchen, you see a yellow sticky note pasted onto the whiteboard. on it, it reads: 
we can make these lists together now, so there's no need for either of these.
and, yeah, you think you can get used to that. 
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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago
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When Johnny takes Simon to his home, and you open the door, Simon's heart stops beating. You direct that lovely smile he's fallen in love with at Johnny as you hug him and usher him inside. Simon's frozen in place, his body refusing to move, because gods, you're a fucking dream.
And then you turn your attention towards him, with ruddy cheeks and pink lips and a delicate neck he could easily wrap his hand around—
"You must be Simon!" and his cock starts to stir. All you said was his name, in that angelic voice of yours, and his blood started to rush to his groin.
When you move to wrap your arms around him in an embrace, he finally breaks from his trance and returns it. Barely. It's awkward— one arm coming up to inelegantly pat your upper back a little too hard, and the other stiff at his side. But you seem completely unbothered, just giving him one last squeeze and step back, holding both of his arms in your dainty hands, and you say, "It's great to meet the one that keeps my Johnny safe. Now, come on in, make yourself at home!"
Simon timidly walks inside, and closes the door behind him, and utters, "Thank you for lettin' me stay here."
The joyful laughter you let out sends exquisite prickles up his spine. "He actually speaks! I'm surprised, Johnny said it took a bit for you to warm up to others," and you give another stomach-fluttering giggle. "You're welcome here any time, Simon. Now let me take you to the room you'll be staying in."
Simon has to carry his duffle bag in front of him as you lead him to the guest room to cover the throbbing erection he's got. When you leave him to freshen up, he wastes no time in pulling his jeans down and taking himself in his hand, stroking firmly. When his imagination paints a picture of you wearing an apron while cooking a meal for him, his vision blurs as he climaxes.
--
Simon knows he's atypical. He has no real decorum. He tells piss-poor dark jokes, inadvertently stares at people when he's lost in thought— and since he's been here, Simon likes to shadow you.
But you don't seem to mind any of it. You laugh at his jokes, the ones Johnny never fails to scoff in disgust at, you tilt your head innocently towards him, silently questioning his intense gaze — and it's so fucking adorable that he's come to that look 8 times in the last 3 days— and you always ask him to reach for things that are out of your reach because you know he's around. (Johnny made a joke once, said that you're being haunted by a ghost, and the quip you replied with as you came to his defense had him dizzy.)
His favorite thing about you though, is how unafraid you are of him. You had rounded a corner and saw his skull mask for the first time, and had you been like any other woman, you would've been startled. But you hadn't been— If anything, you asked him if he wanted it fixed.
"I can see a couple of tears here, Simon. I can patch it up if you like."
It was so deliciously domiciliary that he counted each stitch of his mended mask with his thumb as he touched himself that night.
And then, through the thin walls of the home, he suddenly heard your dulcet moans. He quickly got up and put his skills to use— silently crossing the living room and leaning against the wall closest to your bedroom door.
The bed repeatedly creaked and every choked moan that left you, Simon heard clearly. He hastily took out his achingly hard cock, spit on his palm, and stroked himself to the rhythm of the slapping of skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fucked himself to the thought of him being the one in there with you.
He has no doubt that you'd feel heavenly. Your slick cunt swallowing his turgid length, walls almost painfully tight around him. You'd beg for him to hammer into you, relentlessly, mercilessly. You'd tell him to bite the crook of your shoulder once you were about to come around his cock, and when he actually hears you reach your peak, he rhythmically tightens and loosens his grip, imitating your fluttering walls. His toes are curling inside his socks, he's so bloody close—
And then Simon hears your lascivious voice murmur, "Come in me."
He bites his lip so hard it splits under the pressure as he comes. Tiny, hushed whimpers seeped from behind his mouth, as hot cum spilled onto his fingers, and trickled onto the floor.
The only noise Simon can hear now is his own shaky breath— the fun's over on both sides, it seems. He looks down, gives his softening cock one more stroke, wringing out the last of his seed, before tucking himself away, and sluggishly wiping his mess off the floor with his foot.
He quietly moves, heading back to his room, when he spots your laundry basket in the utility room.
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Simon has never believed in luck until now when he's sniffing your knickers in the privacy of the guest room, and he realizes they've been worn. And by how strong the smell of you is, they've been used very recently. He felt like he won the goddamn lottery.
Wrapping it around his cock, he touches himself. Again. And when he comes, he makes sure to spurt his cum directly onto the gusset of the undergarment.
Come morning, when they're all stiff and crusted, he laments that he didn't lick them first, in a pitiful bid to experience a taste of you, before stowing them into a secret compartment in his bag. He makes a mental note to remember to do just that when he takes another pair.
Simon wordlessly makes a cup of tea later, hissing as the hot liquid comes in contact with the small wound on his lip, when Johnny approaches him.
"Mornin' LT."
A grunt is his only reply.
Johnny then shoots him a sly grin.
"Last night, ye weren't as wheesht, as quiet, as ye thought. But dinnae worry, Bonnie doesn't ken a thing."
He claps a hand on Simon's petrified shoulders. "If ye wanted a slice of the cake, ye could've just asked. I dinnae mind sharin'."
Simon gives him a borderline-demented look, puts his tea down on the counter, and clears his throat.
"When?"
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starkwlkr · 5 months ago
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pretty in pink | logan howlett
an: this comes straight from my delusional mind
dad!logan (you can choose if you want this to be an old man logan fic!!)
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All week your daughter, Ada, had been reminding everyone about her sixth birthday that was coming up. She made sure you and Logan marked it on every calendar in the house. During dinner, all she talked about was her pink princess themed party.
“And the cake has to be pink!” She said for the hundredth time. She sat in her chair at the table completely forgetting she was supposed to be eating her spaghetti.
“We know, bub. You told us everyday before and after school.” Logan said.
“I told the girls in my class to come too. They said they wouldn’t come because we’re freaks.” Her excitement about the party died down.
Laura, now a teenager, gave her sister an encouraging smile. “They’re the freaks. You’re the coolest girl in school. That means we get to have all the cake.” That earned a laugh from Ada. Logan chuckled, it warmed his heart to see his daughter’s bond.
“Your party is going to be the best, my love,” You stood up and grabbed your and Logan’s plate that were now empty. “Finish up and then get ready for bed, both of you.” You walked to the kitchen sink and began to wash the dishes.
Laura immediately challenged Ada to see who could finish their spaghetti first. After a scolding from their parents, Laura let Ada win. Soon, the sisters raced upstairs to get ready for bed.
As you and Logan finished cleaning, you couldn’t help but think about your little girl. Your sweet innocent little girl didn’t deserve to be called a freak. Your thoughts were interrupted when a car pulled up to your driveway. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.
“Stay here.” Logan said to you after he wiped his hands on a dish rag. He walked out the door ready to confront whoever it was. The car’s headlights were blinding him, but once he heard the familiar voice call his name, he put away his claws.
Inside you were still wondering who it was. Before you could join Logan outside, Ada had run down the stairs already in her princess pajamas.
“Mommy, who’s outside?” She asked you. Her question was answered when Logan walked in with Rogue by his side. Ada screamed in excitement when she saw her other sister. “You’re here! You’re here!” The little girl ran to Rogue and gave her a welcoming hug.
“I wouldn’t want to miss your princess party.” Rogue picked up the girl.
“Are you going to sleep in my room? Dad got some new books for me!”
“Oh you bet we’re going to stay up all night reading those books! I’ll be up in a few, let me talk to mom and dad for a sec,” Rogue set her down. The adults watched as Ada happily skipped up the stairs to her room. “Alright, what’s wrong?” She looked at you and Logan.
“What? Nothing wrong, why are you asking?” Logan asked surprised by her question.
Rogue knew she wasn’t going to get a straight answer from Logan so she looked at you. You sighed and told your daughter the truth. You were nervous about Ada’s party. A few of her classmates did tell her they were attending, but you were convinced they were only coming to make fun of her and ruin her big day.
“Those little shits ain’t going ruin my girl’s party.” Logan added.
“Honey, those little shits are first graders.” You corrected him.
“Little shits or not, Logan’s right. This is Ada’s party and she’s going to have the best damn princess party in the world.” Rogue declared. Before she left, she gave you and Logan a kiss on the cheek then walked up the stairs to Ada’s room.
Logan noticed that you still had a concerned look on your face. “Hey, Ada is going to be okay.”
“I just don’t want my little girl to get hurt.” You said.
“I won’t let anything or anyone hurt any of my girls.” Logan reminded you.
With that, you and Logan finished cleaning and went up to Laura’s room to say goodnight. As you reached Ada’s room, you saw her and Rogue already asleep. You quietly took the book out of Rogue’s hand and put it back on the bookshelf then adjusted the blanket over your daughters. You gave them both a goodnight kiss and left the room.
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In the morning, Ada was the first to wake up. She ran to yours and Logan’s room as fast as she could and jumped on to the bed screaming that it was her birthday. Logan groaned since she had landed on his stomach.
“Wake up! It’s my birthday!” She giggled as Logan sat up and brought her into his arms.
“How old are you today? Eighty? Ninety seven?” He watched as Ada’s smile dropped.
“No, that’s you!”
You were trying so hard to hold in your laugh, but failed. Logan playfully rolled his eyes. It was Ada’s day, he wasn’t going to get mad at her on her special day.
“Okay birthday girl, I believe your sisters promised a special birthday breakfast just for you.” Logan told Ada.
The now six year old gasped as soon as she heard ‘special breakfast’. She immediately jumped off the bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen where Laura and Rogue were making breakfast.
Logan sighed deeply and rolled over to his side, his eyes meeting yours. “Remember . . . Everything is going to be okay today.”
You hummed in response.
Eventually you and Logan joined the girls in the kitchen. Laura and Ada were throwing grapes into each others mouth while Rogue laughed at them failing miserably. Ada had thrown a grape so far from Laura that it hit Logan’s head when he walked in.
“Ada! You hit an elderly man!” Rogue teased.
“Kids.” Logan rolled his eyes yet again.
As a family you all sang happy birthday to Ada as Rogue placed a stack of pancakes topped with whipped cream and Ada’s favorite fruits. The little girl’s smile brought joy to her family.
“Wait, let me get the camera!” You ran to the cabinet that had random items inside. You grabbed the camera and snapped a couple of pictures of your girls and Logan.
It was a beautiful start to a beautiful day.
As the day went on, Rogue and Laura helped decorate the backyard with princess themed decorations. Ada was too busy running around in her pink princess dress to help. Logan was inside blowing up balloons until members of the x-men started showing up.
“Is that the big bad wolverine in a plastic tiara?” Scott Summers chuckled at the sight of Logan wearing a tiara that Ada had given him.
“Watch it, I don’t want you bleeding all over my daughter’s party when I—” Before Logan could finish, Ada joined them with more tiaras in hand. She gave one to every member telling them they couldn’t enter her party if they didn’t wear it.
And that’s how Scott Summers ended up with a plastic pink tiara on his head.
Ada was enjoying her party so far. A couple of classmates did end up attending. You saw as they played on the swing set that Logan had bought for Ada for her last birthday.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Logan said as he stood beside you.
“Hey,” you relaxed more when he was close to you. “Did you see the big box Storm brought for Ada? I bet it’s a big doll house.”
“You’re wrong. It’s definitely a large case of beer for me and you to enjoy when our girls are passed out.”
You chuckled. “After this, no more parties until next year.” You placed a kiss on his lips.
“Whatever you say . . .” He got another kiss in before Ada came running to you with a butterfly knife in hand and the biggest smile on her face.
“Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Wade got me a pretty knife!”
“Uncle Wade?!” “What the fuck!” You and Logan yelled at the same time.
“Hey mommy milf dearest! Peanut! Guess my invite got lost in the mail . . . again. I’m starting to think it’s on purpose. Harsh! Whatever, hey kids! Who wants to learn how to use this baby!” He held up his gun.
“Wade, No!”
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chastiefoul · 1 year ago
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0:56 a.m. | nanami kento
0.6k words
“kento,” you whispered into the silence of the night and the dimmed lights on your room. It’s been way past midnight and you hadn’t been able to sleep, contrary to your boyfriend who’s lying beside you—his breath steady and calm.
when your voice didn’t budge him out of his slumber you tried once more.
“kento.” this time a little louder.
he then muttered an inaudible word, still closing his eyes. his hand wandered though, tightening his hold around the back of your shoulder; bringing you close to his chest. better, but the gesture was not enough for you who’s not feeling even a little sleepy, as mischief ideas filled your head.
third time’s a charm, they said. so you called him once more.
this time it finally did something as he hummed a reply, his free hand rubbed your side in a calming pattern, his hand went underneath your shirt that’s all rode up. he settled his grip just an inch under your chest, his thumb slowly moved up and down. “that tickles,” you said as you put a hand over his, refraining his little movement. Although, you’re sure he could hear the smile on your voice.
he finally opened his eyes as he gave you a lazy little smile and you swore you didn’t remember seeing anything more gorgeous than that. “why aren’t you asleep, hm?” his voice a tone heavier than usual, a tad husky as it laced deep with sleep. “i can’t sleep,” you whispered, like telling a secret to your best friends in a slumber party. “right. so i don’t get to either, yeah?” he replied, a smile on his face; and it’s only fondness shine across his feature.
“i mean, i understand if the old man needs his sleep even though tomorrow’s weekend. so by all means,” you said playfully, and that earned a deep chuckle from him. “don’t tease, who said we should have an early night today?” he raised an eyebrow, and for such a calm sleeper he now couldn’t stop his wandering hand as he’s diligent on giving you back-scratches—not that you’re complaining. “yes, but that was before my confidence in being able to fall asleep crumbled right before my eyes,” you claimed, feigning a serious tone. “i see, my mistake.” his eyes narrowed affectionately and you had a feeling you could say the dumbest excuse and he’d let you get away with anything.
you felt the need to sit up and do something but before you could even do that he held you down gently. “none of that, you’ll feel even more restless, love.” you couldn’t even protest at that since you knew he’s always right. “then what do you suggest we do now?”
“it’s a we problem now, hm?” he stared at you in amusement, knowing who dragged him into the sleepless night as well was none other than you. “is that a complaint i hear?” you threw him a questioning look. “it’s excitement, of course.” he laughed softly as he stroke your hair ever-so-gently.
“i should just start rambling maybe it’ll get me tired,” you said randomly and he just nodded without offering any question. “sure, i’m listening.” his hand didn’t stop moving. “where should i start?” you asked, relying on his answer. And of course it came easy for the man who seemed like he knew all the right words. “start anywhere, love. you could repeat anything, skipped over some words, or even tell it backwards and i’ll be here to point it out,” he said lovingly.
and you don’t know if it’s just his power you didn’t know about but it’s not even ten minutes after you started talking and as he kept doing the little gesture you could feel the sleepiness coming, welcoming you to one of your best slumber in a while.
--
idk how it took me this long to write this man. i love him so much.
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ilydeku · 5 months ago
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izuku loves to talk about you during interviews
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- anything and every topic it will ALWAYS be about you
- the question won't even be remotely related to you and still izukus answer will revolve around "y/n, my wife!!" <3
- oh, the glint in his eyes, the peaking smile when he speaks about you, lover boyyy
- the media knows he LOVE LOVES you, they think it's funny for this big, confident, mighty hero to be reduced to sap when it comes to you
- it's like his whole personality is HIS WIFE
- the journalists lowkey get so SICK of him for this, they don't want to invite him anymore 😭
- but they kinda have to, due to to his status as #1
"Good evening everyone and welcome Hero Talk! Tonight we'll be staring someone you all know and love, single handedly the greatest hero of all time, Deku! Alright, Deku how are you tonight?"
"Feeling pretty good! This is one of my wife's favorite shows, so I'm even more grateful to be here. And how are you?"
"Oh, same old. Really, just living. Now, we wanted to ask you some fun questions. Let's start with this one. Why did you want to become a hero?"
"Wow, haha! That really brings be back to my youth. When I was kid, my biggest influence was All Might, and he miraculously became my mentor. He was a good hero, and a good man. I wanted to be just like him: fearless, persevering, saving people with I smile. I would beg my mom everyday to watch this video on the computer of him saving a bunch a people. I was really swayed by All Might. I wanted to become a hero to make an impact in the world. I wanted to save people with a smile too."
"That sounds really endearing, Deku. I remember All Might's reign. He wasn't number one on the top charts all those years for nothing. So, did you ever think you'd be standing as Japan's top hero?"
"Well, it was never really my goal to become number one. That was Kacchan's- Dynamight's. My dream was, like I said, to become a hero and save others. But I have to say, it really is a blessing. I'd like to thank my Mom, All Might, my friends, and especially my wife for who I've become. My Mom has really done a lot for me growing up: protecting, encourage, and just always caring for me. All Might has kinda been that father figure for me when my Dad was away. My friends have shown me what it's like to work together and really be part of a heart. And my wife? Haha...I can't thank her enough for all the times she's been right by my side, even before we were together. Nothing I can say or do will ever be enough to express how much she means to me."
"Mm. Quite the supportive group. Your wife sounds like quite the lady!"
"She is. She's wonderful."
"Moving on to the next question, do you use social media often?"
"Occasionally, yes?? My wife uses it regularly, posting about us when we go out and stuff. It's mostly for her family to see how she's doing. She handles most of my official accounts. She says it's to be more appealing to the public, and I guess to show that there's more to heroes on the inside?? I'm not really sure, but I trust her process. Although, I'd rather be appealing to her alone."
"The public will always interested in a hero's private life! Now, Deku, what is your ideal setting of relaxation?"
"My wife doesn't like places that are too crowded or noisy, so maybe a cozy day at the beach?- but early in the morning or in the evening when the crowds calm down. Maybe a movie theatre, but days after the movie is released so it's just us together. Actually, a lazy day at home together is great too! Cooking meals and watching a movie on the couch? Really, any place is relaxing if my wife is with me."
(am i questioning Deku's wife or Deku!?) "How scenic! Those sound very fitting for you!! How about any restaurants?"
"Not really. My wife really knows how to cook, it's amazing! I love her home-cooked meals, so there's no way I'd go out of my way to a restaurant. But if my wife is feeling it, I'll be sure to make reservations."
"(sigh)"
"(smiling warmly)"
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satellite-evans · 7 months ago
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Drunk in love
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Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader
Summary: When their wives get drunk, it is up to the Bridgerton brothers to take care of them ;)
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: Kate and reader are drunk lol, just pure fluff
A/N:
this is just something silly I had in my mind lol enjoy
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
The Bridgerton household was steeped in the soft glow of the evening, and in the library, two brothers sat comfortably. Benedict Bridgerton leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips as he listened to Anthony's latest tirade about the complexities of running the family estate. The occasional crackle of the fire punctuated Anthony’s words, creating a comforting backdrop to their conversation.
"It's all well and good for you, Benedict," Anthony was saying, "to prance about with your paints and canvases. But someone has to keep this family afloat."
Benedict chuckled, shaking his head. "You take life far too seriously, Anthony. One day, you'll realize there's more to it than ledgers and land."
Before Anthony could retort, a burst of laughter erupted from the drawing room, loud enough to make both men pause. They exchanged curious glances, and without a word, rose to investigate the source of the commotion.
As they approached the drawing room, the laughter grew louder and more infectious. Pushing the door open, they were met with a sight that brought simultaneous smiles and sighs to their faces. There, amidst a sea of discarded shawls and half-empty wine glasses, were their wives: Y/N and Kate, draped over the settee in fits of giggles.
"My love," Benedict began, striding over to Y/N, who looked up at him with sparkling, mischievous eyes.
"Ben!" Y/N exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. "Have you come to join our party?"
Anthony moved to Kate, who was similarly animated, her cheeks flushed with wine. "What on earth is going on here?" he asked, unable to keep a smile from his lips.
"We were just... having a bit of fun," Kate replied, her words slightly slurred. "Isn't that right, Y/N?"
Y/N nodded enthusiastically, her grip on Benedict tightening. "Yes! And you should have been here, Benedict. We were planning all sorts of adventures!"
Benedict exchanged a knowing look with Anthony. "It's getting late," he said gently. "Perhaps it's time to retire for the night before we wake the whole household."
"But we’re not tired!" Kate protested, though she yawned right after.
"Yes!" Y/N said eagerly. " We have work to do. We need to save the pirates!"
Benedict looked at Anthony with a confused look on his face, not understanding a word his wife is saying.
"The pirates? What pirates?" He asked his wife.
"Silly Benedict, the pirates that got captured of course! If we don't help them they will die or worse, catch a cold." Kate said to her brother-in-law while slurring the words, indicating that the night was surely over for the 2 ladies.
With a mixture of gentle coaxing and persuasive charm, Benedict and Anthony managed to guide their wives towards the staircase, their efforts accompanied by more giggles and shushing noises. Y/N and Kate were like a pair of mischievous schoolgirls, clutching each other for support as they swayed precariously.
"Shhh, we must be quiet!" Kate whispered loudly, her finger pressed to Y/N's lips.
"Yes, shhh!" Y/N echoed, though her laughter threatened to spill over.
Benedict exchanged an amused glance with Anthony. "Easier said than done," he muttered, placing a steadying hand on Y/N's waist.
The trek upstairs was a comedic parade of whispered laughter and shuffling feet. Y/N, in her drunken state, decided it was a brilliant idea to try walking on her tiptoes to avoid making noise. She stumbled, her giggles turning into a high-pitched squeal as Benedict caught her just in time.
"My hero," she declared, leaning heavily against him.
"Always," Benedict replied, his voice filled with warmth.
Meanwhile, Anthony had his hands full with Kate, who seemed determined to recount an elaborate and entirely fictitious tale about their latest adventure. "And then the pirate said, 'No, it's my treasure!' and I told him, 'You can have it, but only if you dance a jig!'"
Anthony shook his head, suppressing his laughter. "Let's get you to bed, love. You can tell me the rest of the story tomorrow."
As they finally reached the top of the stairs, the brothers carefully navigated their wives down the hall to their respective bedrooms. Y/N clung to Benedict, her fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt.
"Do you know what we should do, Ben?" she whispered, her voice conspiratorial. "We should have our own little party. Just you and me."
Benedict raised an eyebrow, amused. "Is that so?"
Y/N nodded, her movements exaggerated by the effects of the wine. "Yes. And I have... ideas." She bit her lip, trying to look sexy for her husband but failing miserably.
Benedict couldn't help but laugh softly at her earnest expression. "I'm sure you do, darling. But I think you might regret them in the morning."
She pouted, leaning in closer. "You're laughing at me," she accused, though her own lips twitched upwards.
"Never," Benedict said, kissing her forehead. "I just find you utterly adorable."
Y/N’s pout deepened. "I’m trying to seduce you, Benedict Bridgerton, and you’re laughing."
Benedict wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "And I love you for it," he murmured. "But you’re far too drunk to remember this tomorrow."
Y/N huffed, but her eyelids were already drooping. "Fine. But you owe me, mister."
"I’ll gladly pay my dues," he promised, tucking her under the covers, making sure she was comfortable.
Once the bedroom doors softly clicked shut behind them, Benedict and Anthony exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of fond exasperation and lingering mirth.
Anthony let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "Well, that was certainly an eventful evening."
Benedict grinned, running a hand through his hair. "Indeed. I never knew Y/N had such a penchant for dramatic declarations."
"And Kate," Anthony added with a raised eyebrow, "tyring to save pirates? I wonder where she comes up with these ideas."
Benedict chuckled softly, moving to pour himself a glass of water. "It’s all part of their charm, I suppose. Makes life interesting."
Anthony nodded thoughtfully, leaning against the dresser. "Indeed it does. They certainly keep us on our toes."
Silence settled between them for a moment, the sounds of the quiet house filling the space. Benedict took a sip of water, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at Anthony. "At least they provided us with some entertainment."
Anthony grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. "To our adventurous wives and the mornings after."
Benedict laughed, clinking his glass against Anthony's. "May we always be prepared for their antics."
The next morning, the dining room was a scene of quiet activity as the Bridgerton family gathered for breakfast. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow over the table laden with a variety of morning fare. Benedict and Anthony were already seated, exchanging knowing glances as they sipped their coffee.
"Good morning," Anthony greeted with a wry smile, his voice a bit too cheerful as Kate and Y/N finally made their way downstairs. The two women looked thoroughly sheepish, their faces pale and their movements slow, battling clear signs of a hangover.
Kate, with a hand on her throbbing head, groaned softly as she took her seat. "Please. Not so loud, Anthony," she muttered, reaching for a slice of toast but ultimately settling for a glass of water.
Y/N, trailing slightly behind, sat down next to Benedict, doing her best to avoid his amused gaze. "Good morning," she mumbled, her voice hoarse, reaching for a cup of tea as if it were a lifeline.
Benedict leaned over, a smirk playing on his lips as he whispered in her ear, "How’s your head, my love?"
She shot him a sideways glance, her cheeks coloring. "Let’s not talk about it," she replied, taking a tentative sip of her tea.
"But you were quite the charming seductress last night," Benedict teased gently, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
Y/N buried her face in her hands, groaning softly. "I’m never drinking that much again."
At the other end of the table, Kate was having a similar conversation with Anthony. "Honestly, I can't remember the last time I felt this awful," she confessed, gingerly rubbing her temples.
Anthony chuckled, passing her a plate of fruit. "Perhaps next time you’ll heed my warnings about overindulgence."
Kate shot him a baleful look, but there was a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. "Don’t be smug, Anthony. It’s not becoming."
"Who, me? Never," Anthony replied with a wink, earning a soft laugh from Kate despite her discomfort.
As the morning continued, the initial awkwardness began to fade, replaced by the comforting normalcy of family life. Eloise and Colin entered the room, their curiosity piqued by the unusual quietness of their typically lively sisters-in-law.
"Good morning," Eloise said brightly, her keen eyes darting between Kate and Y/N. "You two look like you’ve been through the wars."
"Something like that," Y/N muttered, managing a small, embarrassed smile.
Colin, always one for humor, grinned broadly. "Did we miss an adventure last night?"
"Let’s just say it was a night to remember," Benedict replied, his eyes meeting Y/N’s with a tender affection that spoke volumes.
Eloise raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Do tell."
"Another time, perhaps," Y/N said quickly, the color rising in her cheeks again.
As the conversation flowed around the table, the bonds of love and laughter only grew stronger. Despite their mortification, Y/N and Kate couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for their husbands’ gentle teasing and unwavering support.
"Do you remember anything from last night?" Benedict asked Y/N, his tone light but with a hint of curiosity.
Y/N took a deep breath, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. "Bits and pieces," she admitted. "I remember laughing a lot. And I think I tried to..." She trailed off, her cheeks flushing.
Benedict chuckled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "You were very determined to have a private party," he said, his eyes twinkling. "It was quite the spectacle."
Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I’m so embarrassed."
"Don't be," Benedict said softly, leaning closer. "I love seeing every side of you, even the tipsy, adventurous one."
At the other end of the table, Kate was facing a similar interrogation. "So, what exactly were you and Y/N plotting in the drawing room?" Anthony asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.
Kate looked mortified, her face pale except for the flush of her cheeks. "I think we were planning an expedition to find some pirate treasure," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Or something equally ridiculous."
Anthony laughed, the sound rich and warm. "You certainly had quite the adventure in mind. Perhaps we should consider a career change?"
"Very funny," Kate muttered, though she couldn’t help but smile at his good-natured teasing.
The rest of the family, picking up on the mood, joined in the light-hearted banter. Colin leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "It seems our sisters-in-law have a penchant for late-night escapades. We'll have to keep an eye on them."
Eloise, never one to miss a chance to tease, added, "I think it’s wonderful. We could use more excitement around here. Perhaps next time, I'll join in the fun."
"Absolutely not," Anthony interjected firmly, though his smile betrayed his true feelings. "Two tipsy adventurers are quite enough."
Amidst the laughter and teasing, the lingering embarrassment began to fade. Y/N and Kate, though still feeling the effects of their overindulgence, found themselves relaxing, their initial mortification replaced by a growing sense of comfort. The warmth and acceptance from their family wrapped around them like a cozy blanket, reinforcing the love that bound them all together.
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juniperskye · 2 months ago
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Three’s Company
This is just a lil blurb about Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan and you being in love! Based on the following Request: @satans-bitch Hi! Idk if you would be comfortable writing it, but I love the idea of Aaron hotchner x reader x Derek Morgan just all being so in love with each other. Thank u Xx – I took some creative liberties
I hope you like it!
Hotch x BAU! Fem Reader x Morgan
Word count: 883
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, poly-relationship (I’m not the most familiar with this lifestyle) canon typical violence, mantion of babies and pregnancy, Let me know if I missed any.
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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So, neither Derek nor Aaron ever and I mean EVER thought they’d be in a polyamorous relationship. But let me tell you, when you arrived at the BAU, they both knew they had to have you. Aaron had gone to Dave time and time again seeking advice and Derek did the same with Penelope.
They’d both complain that there was no way you were interested, because clearly you like the other guy. Only, that wasn’t quite the issue.
You didn’t just like Aaron or Derek, you liked them both. They were so similar and yet so different and there was no way you could ever choose just one of them.
After many instances of the men fighting for your attention and affection, you pulled them both aside to have a serious conversation.
“I think I should leave the BAU.” You stated.
“What? No!” Derek blurted.
“Why would you think that?” Aaron inquired. “If our behavior has made you uncomfortable, I am so sorry. It was never my intention, and I would hate to see such a talented agent leave because of my idiocy.”
“It’s not your guy’s behavior that’s making me feel this way. It’s my feelings for you.” You said, gesturing to both men.
“Feelings for who?” Derek questioned.
“Both of you.” You blushed.
That evening you’d explained to the men that you had feelings for both of them and had the situation been different you’d have suggested a poly relationship, but you knew that it was too much to ask of two alpha males who’d never been in one before.
What you hadn’t expected to happen was for them to give you a quizzical look and then ask you to give them some time to think about it.
--
It had been nearly a year since then and the three of you had developed something truly beautiful. Aaron had been so stoic at work but at home he was soft, and he always did everything in his power to ensure you and Derek were both cared for.
And well Derek, he was clingy at home. Always wanting his hands on you and he’d come to really enjoy having physical contact with Aaron.
Like when you’d watch a movie, Aaron would have his arm slung over the back of the couch while you cuddled up into his side, and Derek would be sitting as close to you as possible, practically sitting you in his lap. This position would allow for Aaron’s hand to rest around Derek as well and that warmth became a comfort for him.
There had been another shift shortly after that, pet names
they’d been slipping out more frequently. And not just them men using them with you either.
“Sweetheart can you pass me my phone?” Aaron had asked, looking directly at Derek.
“Sure thing sugar.” Derek had replied.
You had been shocked initially, but it ultimately had warmed your heart to see them falling into this relationship more and more. Their comfort in this had been your main priority, you hadn’t cared about anything else.
--
Work had been the toughest part of this newfound dynamic. When any of you got hurt on a case, the other two couldn’t exactly hold it together. And with the team being out of the loop of your lifestyle, well they definitely suspected something.
The most recent had been Aaron, he had been shot while taking down an unsub. Thankfully it had been a flesh wound, but when you heard the shot and saw him go down, you couldn’t help the wail that tore through you. The paramedics had requested you step away, and Derek pulled you into his embrace to get you to comply.
“Baby he’s gonna be okay!” Derek said while holding you close.
“He was shot D! What if he’s not?” You cried.
“I know he’s gonna be okay baby. He has to be.” Derek mumbled the last part.
You looked up to see the tears falling from his misty eyes, and you held him tighter. The team sat by and watched the situation play out, fully convinced now that something was transpiring between the three of you. More than they had initially assumed.
--
The newest development had been the discussion of children. The guys had baby fever, they had seen you interacting with your sister’s newborn and you swear you saw them both drooling over the sight of you.
So
have you ever thought about having kids princess?” Derek posed.
Currently you were lying on the couch, your head in Derek’s lap and him pressed against Aaron. The movie playing, long forgotten as Derek combed his fingers through your hair and Aaron traced shapes on Derek’s bicep.
“Um, yes
I have thought about it. Why do you ask?” You sat up.
“Well, honey, we had a conversation about it the other day.” Aaron clarified.
“You two
had a conversation about me having a baby?” You questioned.
“About us
having a baby.” Derek said, gesturing to the three of you.
Your jaw dropped in shock. What had started as inappropriate flirting in the workplace had developed into a serious relationship between the three of you. One fueled by love, safety, and trust.
“I would love to have a baby with you guys.” You smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
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I think I have a potentially controversial opinion on Aziraphale and the ending.
So one of the things that made me smile so, SO much, was THIS:
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That PURE ABSOLUTE UTTER JOY.
We have not seen ANYTHING like that from demon Crowley. We've seen him be drunk and silly, we've seen him be amused, but we've not seen this.
Now, let's consider what we know about Heaven:
It's never fully populated. ALL of the shots are completely devoid of angels, except for a few, who are almost always just getting somewhere and never really talking to each other.
Where I thought the archangels were a tight clan, it really looks like they're super catty and prone to jealousy. No doubt they would stab each other in the back happily if it came down to it. How much of Heaven is like that, if even the archangels all hate each other?
Aziraphale already has a nervous disposition when he meets Crowley. Is he perhaps an angel that NEVER fit in? Is he familiar with being ostracized by his peers? Just how lonely IS Heaven? Crowley seems to be a pretty powerful angel, and HE doesn't even know that it's all getting shut down in 6000 years -- it's like no one talks to anyone.
Aziraphale, during their whole meeting, looks absolutely smitten. At one point, Crowley goes, "Look at you! You're gorgeous!" and Aziraphale looks over with happy surprise, just before realizing he's not looking at him but rather at what he's created. And then, when Crowley starts going on about making suggestions and asking questions, Aziraphale is IMMEDIATELY concerned and doesn't want him to get into trouble.
Aziraphale is hooked on this angel, and I cannot help but think that this is perhaps the first angel who has ever WELCOMED Aziraphale into his company.
He is hooked on this angel, and the way Crowley smiles is with the light of all the stars he's just created, and it's infectious and it brings a smile to Aziraphale's face as well. And then this angel shields him from the oncoming falling stars.
He is hooked on this angel, and then this angel goes and joins the Great Rebellion, and becomes fallen himself.
"You were an angel once," Aziraphale said, softly, at the bandstand. He remembers.
I think it's reasonable to guess that Heaven has never felt so warm as it did in the presence of millions of exploding stars, next to the (arch?)angel that may perhaps be one of the few (only?) to pay him any positive attention.
I think it's reasonable to assume that Heaven was not the same after Crowley fell. I wouldn't be surprised to find out Aziraphale had wondered about the angel, wondered if he was okay. I would imagine that Aziraphale keeps that picture of pure, angelic, unbridled joy somewhere inside of him.
So, really, is it any surprise that threaded throughout EVERY interaction, Aziraphale has this deep-down feeling that Crowley is good? Would it be any surprise that Aziraphale, an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can (which isn't always), feels that if HE is still an angel, then what was done to Crowley was a great injustice?
I think it would make sense that we are shown "before the beginning" not just because it is fun, but because THIS is the foundational context for everything Aziraphale thinks Crowley is, everything Crowley enjoys. I think he remembers this moment and wishes he could live there forever. With Crowley. The two of them with this happiness, forever.
But nothing lasts forever, as much as he wishes it did.
I'm not saying Aziraphale was right with what he did to Crowley at the end of s2. There is a lot I think he did wrong. I think he held onto this picture so tightly, he didn't realize that Crowley had long since let it go, and painted a new one with Aziraphale with all the shades of grey he picked up as he sauntered (or plummeted) vaguely downward (into a pool of boiling sulfur).
I don't think he was right, but I do think he is understandable. I think there was a lot of selfishness, but also some misguided selflessness too. I watched that first scene with angelic Crowley and my heart actually broke a little, because I thought, "What a shame this joy was taken away from him."
I think Aziraphale is trying to right the injustice he feels has been done. But I also think Aziraphale doesn't realize that Crowley can never go back. The concept of falling never crossed Crowley's mind when he suggested that he ask a few questions, and he will NEVER get that kind of innocence back. And Aziraphale doesn't understand, because Heaven has clearly always just been that way for him (he is already aware of the danger of asking questions).
Crowley does not want to go back because he can never go back. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could build a universal machine that would crank out stars for eons and eons. He can never be the same angel he was when he thought he could make some suggestions and ask some questions and co-create with THE Creator.
Crowley understands that, and Aziraphale doesn't. But I can understand why Aziraphale would want to try. And I think it's all because of this:
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literally-loco · 2 months ago
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Lend a Hand? (18+)
Pairings : Johnny “Soap” Mactavish / Fem!Reader / Simon “Ghost” Riley Content Warnings : PIV Sex, Oral (Fem receiving) Voyeurism, She/Her pronouns used, [slut] used, praise Word Count: 3K A/N: This is my first time actually posting my writing-thank you SO much for reading xoxo
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“You want me
to fuck your best friend?”
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You almost dropped the dish you were scrubbing and looked over at your boyfriend in disbelief. Did he seriously just ask that, like it was nothing?
“What?” By the look on his face, you wondered if you’d misheard him. That was the face of someone asking what you wanted for dinner, or if you’d taken the bins out.
“What’d you say Johnny?” You asked, letting the plate fall softly back into the soap(hah funny) filled water.
“Simon. Think you’d ever fuck him?” He barely looked up from his phone, letting his arm drape lazily over the back of your well-loved sofa. It wasn’t your hearing messing up-he’d actually said that. You faltered slightly, turning around to look at your boyfriend.
“I mean-Johnny where’s this coming from?” You asked hesitantly. Johnny had never been an insecure boyfriend-he’d proudly show you off to his friends at any given chance. You’d be the one to choose the less revealing outfits, he was just so desperate to show his friends how lucky he got.
“He’s been in a bad mood lately. ‘Think he needs a good fuck.” Johnny finally met your gaze, placing his phone down on the console table to give you his full attention. “I haven’t said anything yet-not to him.” He clarified, clearing his throat as he spoke. ”I trust him to not be a stupid bastard-most of the time-and, you know, he’s not a bad looker-“
“You want me
to fuck your best friend?” You cut him off, a shocked look on your face. You hadn’t thought about it before, hell, Johnny hadn’t brought it up before. You’d never really thought of Simon in that way, the man that managed to darken any doorway with his sheer presence. The man with eyes so deep you could spend days exploring them. The man who never gave away so much as a hint of who he really was-the man who you could spend hours interrogating and all you’d get was a migraine.
“I mean, yeah? Only if you want to hen, completely up to you.” His words were gentle, not pushy or pressuring, but a question. “I’d be in the room with you, right next to you if you wanted. And it’s Simon-not just anyone, Si-“
“I’ll do it.” You answered-suddenly quite sure of yourself. You’d had sex with people other than Johnny, sure, but never whilst you were dating anyone. It was new, that’s for sure, but was new necessarily bad? Johnny would be right there-he said so, and it was Simon. You’d met him countless times. And he was Johnny’s best friend-his brother in arms.
“Grand, I’ll shoot him a message.”
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Three days has passed since Johnny had sent the message, and all you’d got in response was “Ok.”.
You opened the door, expecting your shopping, and was instead met with the wall that was Simon. You felt warmth creep up your neck to your face as it dawned on you. Today was the day. What felt like minutes passed, and you were still stood in the doorway.
“Am I coming in?” His gruff voice asked, placing a gloved hand on the doorframe. You quickly moved to the side, and he walked his way in. “So we’re doin’ this?”
“Ah-yeah! You can still back ou-“
“No.” He cut you off, turning back to meet your gaze with those explorer worthy eyes. “I want to.” You just nodded, glancing back to wonder how a man could spend so long in the bathroom.
Johnny welcomed Simon soon after, pulling him into a hug, before leading him to the sofa. Unsure of how exactly this was going to go, you stood beside your boyfriend, letting a hand rest on his shoulder for comfort.
“Come sit down lass.” Johnny murmured, pulling you onto his lap as he continued talking to Simon about when they were next needed on base, the gentle rhythm of his finger gently stroking your thigh easing the building anxiety of what was to come.
“We doin’ this?” You glanced over at Simon’s sudden words, and caught sight of the small grin that had appeared on your boyfriend’s face. “Hope it’s not too..err..rushed-I assume Johnny already made out that I was some sex starved bastard.” Johnny snorted at that, his light strokes on your thigh soon turned into him gripping it tight, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh.
“Bit eager to fuck my girl, aren’t you Simon?” His grip stayed firm, almost holding you in place on his lap.
“Never said I wasn’t, Johnny.” Simon retaliated, his gaze staying fixed on you, those blue eyes meeting your gaze beneath his ever so familiar mask.
“Ready hen?” You barely had time to choke out a small “Yes” before Johnny was lifting you up, and carrying you into your shared bedroom.
————————————————————————-
You were used to the familiar sense of Johnny tossing you onto the bed with the greed of a starved man entering a banquet, but this time he ever so gently placed you down.
His gaze turned to face the shadow darkening your door frame, and spoke firmly. “Traffic lights rule apply-Green for go, amber for slow down, red for stop.” He shifted his body so he was facing you, his perfectly blue eyes meeting your gaze. “You still wanna do this? You can back out anytime lovie-mean it. He won’t be mad-neither will I.” His tone was gentle, but firm in a way that evidenced he meant what he said. You met his lips with yours, planting a soft kiss on his.
“I know. I want to.” And you did. Three days had passed-but it had been on your mind. How Simon would be the one to fuck you. How the hands you’d ever only seen gloved would be all over you. You’d wondered how he’d fuck you-would he be gentle? All soft words and soft hands. Would he be rough? Moving you around as if you weighed nothing, whispering harsh words into your ear as he ravaged you. It was enough to get you flushed in bed, lying next to Johnny.
“Don’t just stand there then Simon-not when she’s already on the bed, looking this pretty for you.” Johnny sat down in the corner chair, his gaze never leaving Simon-as he watched him slowly walk up to the bed.
You’d never considered the size difference before this. Johnny was tall, yes, but Simon was big. He easily towered over you, even when he crawled onto the bed, right by your legs.
His hands slowly met your legs, and a shiver ran down your spine. Even with those gloves on, you could still feel the heat radiating from his body, a stark contrast to how cold you felt. Gently pushing your legs to the side-his eyes never leaving yours, searching for any hint of discomfort-he settled in between them, blocking out the brightness from the ceiling light.
His hands continued their wander, up your lower legs, over your knees, and settled on your thighs. “This okay?” His rough voice asked, and you nodded. “Need an answer, I asked you a question, didn’t I?” You hadn’t expected him to sound so assertive, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Yeah-Yeah that’s okay.” You murmured, keeping your gaze on his masked face.
“Good.” His hands continued their journey, ending up on your waist, just under your shirt. “Want to lose this?” He gently teased the seam of your shirt, and you nodded once more. “Gotta speak up for me lovie.”
Once you’d consented, he carefully supported your back up, and lifted your shirt over your head.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He murmured-quiet enough that maybe you weren’t supposed to hear. His gloved hands ran up your torso,
thumbs gentry stroking the skin just under your bra-wire. You sat up, gently moving him off you to reach behind your back. Simon scooted back, confused at first and searching for the uncertainty in your eyes. But when your bra fell forward, and you tossed it off the bed, his eye lit up. “So eager for me..” He murmured, lunging forward with his mouth stopping just over your nipple.
“Okay?”
“Yeah.” You murmured, taking a deep breath when you realised what he was about to do.
Barely waiting a second after you answered, he reached up to lift the mask onto his nose, revealing his scarred mouth. In an instant, his mouth was on your nipple, licking and sucking on it as if he would never be able to again. One of his hands moved to tease your other nipple-drawing a soft, desperate sound out of you. He captures it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching slightly to harden it between his fingers.
Desperate to pull that beautiful sound out of you again, he swapped over, palming your now damn breast with the gloved palm of his hand. “Such pretty fucking tits.”
“Aren’t they just?” Johnny’s voice chimed in, and your gaze turned to him. He got up out of his chair, and strode over to the bed. Crouching beside you, he planted a soft kiss on your lips. “Keep looking at him hen-keep those pretty eyes on him.” You nodded, turning your gaze back to Simon, and found his eyes staring up into yours. You’d never seen him so blissed before, suckling on your tit like he’d never see one again.
“You like that, eh? Having my best friends hands on you, teasing you, touching you?” Johnny murmured in your ear, and turned your face back when you went to look at him. “What did I say? Eyes on him.”
All you could do was let out a pretty whine when he pinched your nipple between his finger-sending jolts of pleasure down to your cunt, and earning a sharp inhale from Simon.
“She liked that, didn’t she L.T?”
Simon lifted his head, palming your breasts with his hands.
“You want some more hen? Is that it?” Your boyfriend murmured, and Simon’s hands slid off your tits, and down your torso until they rested on your hips. He-awkwardly-shuffled down the bed, until his head rested on your thigh.
“Are we losing these?” Simon murmured, his fingers resting on the hem of your shorts.
“Please
Simon..” You gasped, watching the small smirk appear on his face.
“So sweet for me-aren’t ya?” He breathed, gently pulling down your shorts and panties until you could kick them off.
“She’s awful sweet when she wants to get fucked.” Johnny chuckled, his hand on the back of your head to force your gaze down to Simon.
“All this, just from me worshiping those pretty tits?” You instinctively went to close your thighs, but his hands pushed them back open. “I’m not hearing red.” Simon’s eyes went up to meet yours, as he licked the first stipe up your folds.
You swear you met God.
A soft whine escaped your lips and the vibrations of his low chuckle ran up your spine. “So fucking sensitive-aren’t you?” You watched his eyes flutter shut as he darted his tongue over your bundle of nerves, and you couldn’t help but arch your hips into him.
Simon ate pussy like it was his last meal. He wasn’t sloppy, but you were sure the combined effort of his saliva and your wetness had made you a sopping mess for him. His hands left your inner thighs-and you didn’t quite understand why until you felt his thumb circling your clit. One gloved hand rested on your lower stomach, as you bucked your hips into his face. “Yeah-you’re real sensitive.” He murmured, his mouth taking over from his thumb, making what you assumed was a figure of eight over your clit.
With the ungloved hand-his middle finger gently teased your hole, until he pushed it inside to gently begin fucking you on his finger.
You definitely met God.
You should’ve guessed his hands would be thick-he was huge-but this was something else.
“You like that, hen? Knowing that my best friend is knuckle deep inside you, fingerfucking you.” Johnny whispered in your ear, planting soft kisses on the underside of your jaw. ”You love this. Knowing that whilst I’m planting kisses here-Simon is worshiping your drenched cunt.”
You bit your lip to stifle the gasps and whines that threatened to escaped, when something else pressed against your lips.
“Open.” Johnny murmured, and you tasted leather. Simon’s glove. “Bite down.” And you did-eyes rolling back as Simon added another finger inside you, stretching you.
“Ain’t that a sight L.T? These beautiful fucking tits, hard and wet, and her face blissed out whilst she has to bite down on your glove.”
You swear you heard Simon groan at the sight, increasing the speed of his hand, as his thumb found your clit again. Your back arched up at the sensation, and you heard him chuckle.
“Squeezing my fingers so fucking tight-you gonna cum? Going to cum on my fucking fingers?” All he got in response was your stifled whines, your gaze still meeting his. It was too much and not enough at the same time-your hips rocked against his hand, and the way his thumb drew circles on your clit had that tight knot inside you tightening, and tightening.
“C’mon lovie-cum for me.”
And all at once you felt that knot unravel-and you were soaring off the cliff. Simon’s hands gripped your shaking thighs, fingerfucking you through your orgasm. “Oh good girl
was that good? Looked so fucking good, didn’t she Johnny?” Simon murmured, planting soft kisses on your inner thighs.
“Looked beautiful hen.”
“Gonna let me fuck you doll?” Simon groaned, pulling his fingers free from your dripping wet pussy. “Gonna let me fuck you senseless, until you can’t even think?”
“Mmph-please Si..-“ You whined around his glove, clenching around nothing. Johnny chuckled, tilting your head up to face him. “Real fucking polite for someone fucking their boyfriends best friend.” He teased, forcing your head to look back at Simon.
You’d imagined a lot about this moment, but what you hadn’t considered was his size. Johnny was big, but Simon was huge. Uncut, and tilting slightly upwards, and perfect.
“God she’s drooling over it L.T.” Your boyfriend cooed, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Drooling all over that fucking glove.”
Simon crawled up the bed until he was kneeling between your legs, the tip of his cock just ghosting over your pussy. “It’ll hurt for a bit lovie, but I know you can take it. Red and we stop.” His hands gripped your hips, digging into the flesh hard enough you were sure it’d bruise. He was gentle at first-pulling your hips close so he could push in. The moan that escaped around the glove was downright dirty, but you kept your gaze on him.
It took a while, and patience, but he bottomed out inside you, his hips flushed against yours. And the filthy moan that shuddered out of him was incredible.
“Just gonna sit there Simon?” Johnny teased, and was met with a stern glare.
“Recalculating Johnny. Didn’t realise how fucking-Jesus-tight she’d be.” He panted, pulling out nearly completely, before thrusting back in. “And so-so fucking warm.” He gasped, shuddering slightly as he thrust into you once more.
“Taking him so well hen, isn’t she Simon?” Johnny cooed in your ear, his hand resting on your throat.
“So-so fucking good.” Simon uttered back, getting a firmer grip on your hips as he picked up a regular pace.
“Such a good little slut for us, fucking my best friend whilst I watch.”
Simon let out a breathtakingly beautiful moan at that word-his head falling back slightly. “She-she fucking squeezed me Johnny.”
“She likes being a slut, don’t you hen? A little slut that gets fucked.” Your boyfriend chuckled, and Simon picked the pace up.
“Is-is that it? You like being fucked?” Simon groaned, drawing a string of moans to escape your lips as he picked up the pace. “Yeah you do-you love having your boyfriend watch you fuck someone else.”
His fingers found your clit again-and your legs instinctively squeezed around his waist. “Atta-fucking-girl.” Simon growled, the one hand gripping your waist moving to rest just over your collarbones. “Like that? Like having someone tower over you whilst they fuck you into the mattress?” He leaned over you completely, his head resting in the crook of your neck to leave open mouthed kisses.
“Gonna cum again? Gonna cum on my cock-yeah, you are.” His voice was rough in your ear, and you felt that knot tightening in your lower abdomen again. “Squeezing me so fucking tight-God you’re so fucking perfect. Wanted to fuck you for ages.” He shuddered, his rhythm faltering slightly. “Every time I saw you-those fucking eyes. Knew I needed them looking up at me as i f-fucked you.”
“Gon-gonna-“ You whined against the glove, no doubt biting through it at this point. And that was it-that knot unraveled once more, leaving your legs trembling around his waist.
“Gonna cum lovie-gonna fuck-fucking-“ He gasped, quickly pulling out as hot cum splashed onto your lower stomach.
It wasn’t until you heard Johnny’s own shuddering gasp that you realised he’d gotten off on this. How you didn’t consider he maybe liked watching, it was unknown.
“Open.” Simon’s gruff voice sounded next to your ear, cleaning the cum off your stomach with his fingers. You obeyed-and his fingers set on the flat of your tongue. You sucked on his fingers-until he pulled them out, and took the glove off of your chest.
“How’d you feel now Simon?” Your boyfriend teased, earning a tired glare from Simon.
“Should be asking her that. She’s been so fucking good for me.” His eyes bore down into yours as he knelt between your trembling thighs.
“Let’s get you cleaned up hen.” And you were scooped off the bed, your boyfriend carrying you into the en suite bathroom.
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It was gone ten by the time Simon went home, and you’d ended up curled on the sofa with Johnny. “How was that hen?” He murmured, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.
You hummed, looking up at him. “Do you want to do it again sometime?” You asked your boyfriend, his blue eyes meeting yours.
“I think that can be arranged.”
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