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#although as I'm thinking about it more I can't decide on whether it would be funnier for Luigi or Bowser to have these internal thoughts

undiscovered-horizon · 6 months

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[Mihawk prefers to keep work and his private life separate. On one rare occasion when these two have to comingle, Mihawk is rather upset at the attention you attract.]

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When Mihawk said "It will be just a moment, my dear", you didn't think the issue would take more than half an hour. Yet here you are, two hours after he had left you in a fussy lounge in the back of Midnight Grove...

...and not a Dracule Mihawk in sight.

You let out an exasperated sigh and take another sip of your mai tai. The band is playing yet another song that sounds vaguely identical to the previous one. Similarly, the mob of other patrons seems to be merging into one, murky background of blurry figures in your eyes. Being used to the peaceful yet refined companionship of Mihawk, the aura of Midnight Grove is beyond unbearable.

Mindlessly playing with a coaster featuring a howling wolf, you don't notice a Marine cadet approaching you.

"I'm afraid I have to arrest you, my lady."

The unexpected and, frankly, unwelcome comment makes you look up from the devilishly fascinating coaster. Your eyes fall on a well-built man with long hair and a smug expression. The glint in his brown eyes makes you tense up in discomfort.

"Excuse me?" you ask him, not understanding the meaning behind his words.

The cadet gives you a bad parody of a flirtatious smile. "You look too beautiful," he purrs out.

You can't help but laugh. Somehow, you're undecided whether his pick-up disgusts or amuses you or maybe both. Perhaps his audacity forced a laugh out of you - the ring on your fourth finger is neither modest nor simple. Considering how the large gem in the golden band shone in the low light of the Midnight Grove, even a blind man could tell from a mile away that you are anything but single.

"Anyone waiting for you at home?" he continues his rather poor attempt at flirting.

With a casual flick of your wrist, you toss the coaster on the table. Feeling both curious and entertained, you decide to play along - for now, at least. "Why are you asking, sailor boy?" you question before taking another sip of your drink. The ice has melted and the diluted drink now tastes mostly of old freezer.

"He must be mighty jealous about you. And considering the gold you're wearing," he makes a point of staring at your cleavage, "a millionaire, too."

"Oh, this?" You look down at the necklace of jewels and pearls. A memory flashes before your eyes, suddenly remembering Mihawk's face, barely visible in candlelight as he clasps the jewellery around your neck, telling you sweet things only men in romance novels tend to say. "Yes, it's a gift from someone. I'm sure you know him," you tell the Marine cadet in a casual tone, already imagining how hilarious his face of terror will be when he realizes whose spouse he's been trying to woo. "Tall, yellow eyes, a rather large sword and...

"Awfully annoyed at your impertinence, boy."

The low, guttural voice laced with withheld anger makes both of you look away. There, standing right behind the cadet, is Mihawk himself. Part of his large physique blocks the scarce lighting, making him look significantly more insidious. In the twilight of the Midnight Grove, with fury burning in his eyes, Mihawk appears closer to a demon than a man.

Although the room is dark, you can clearly see the way the cadet's blood draws from his face and the way his eyes are suddenly bigger than an owl's. He scrambles to his feet, almost falling off his chair. Then, muttering apologies and promises of better behaviour, the young Marine runs off only to disappear in the crowd of Midnight Grove's patrons.

Mihawk's eyes follow the youngling for a moment.

"I should have him strung up and killed," he says more to himself than you.

"Or," you speak up, a playful smile curling your lips, "you could sit down, have a drink with your beautiful wife and gloat about the fact that you're the only man to undress her."

You might just be a witch because the change in his demeanour is instant. There is still something wild in his bright, yellow eyes but it's not bloodthirst or anger anymore. You notice how he glances at the ring and the necklace, admiring his own signs of "ownership". One would think they're big enough to send the message. Alas, some people just refuse to receive it.

"You have me convinced," Mihawk says as he sits down next to you.

#opla #opla x reader #opla fanfiction #one piece live action #one piece netflix #mihawk x reader #mihawk #dracule mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk one piece #mihawk fanfiction #mihawk x you #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x you #dracule mihawk fanfiction #dracule mihawk fanfic #dracule mihawk imagine #dracule mihawk x y/n #op mihawk

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impactedfates · 9 days

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Letters Unsent - Genshin + HSR Boys x GN! Reader

★ Summary: After their death, you find a letter. A letter he wrote. A letter he wrote for you, a letter he wished he could’ve given to you personally. A letter describing his feelings.

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Diluc, Wriothesley, Cyno, Argenti, Jing Yuan + Gepard

★ Genre/Trope: Angst + Hurt/No Comfort

☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (Not the Readers)

★ Extra: Angst is fun, angst is nice :)) // Might make another part with different characters if this does well // Not fully proof read // Motivation came back cuz of sad tunes/hj

He said he'd be back, that it'll be quick. Despite your worry, you knew he was strong, so he'd be able to protect himself right? So you trusted him. Trusted him so much that when his co-worker showed up to your door with an expression you couldn't exactly read, you were confused. It was about him but...he was fine right? Then why were they telling you he had passed? The injuries he sustained was...to much for his body to handle? The healers couldn't help him? But...he said he'd be back...you were snapped out of your thoughts when they handed you a letter with your name on it. "I think he knew he wouldn't be able to make it...so...he wanted you to have this...even if he couldn't hear your answer"

"To My Dearest,

If I'd ever be lucky to even call you that. Although this isn't ideally how I wanted to do this. I believe I can only get these things on paper, it's much too difficult otherwise. I was never good with words so I hope this alternative is alright for you.

Ever since the day I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were different. Not in a bad way. It took me way too long to figure out the reason for this was due to the fact I loved you.

I loved seeing your smile.

Hearing your laugh.

Loved the small talk we had that would end up with me taking you home. You made me feel something I didn't think I would ever feel, and I'm unsure if I even deserve it.

If I even deserve you.

Whether or not you feel the same way, I hope we can stick together as long as time allows us.

Sincerely

Diluc."

"To Y/N

Hope you're doing well, life in Meropide is still as dull as ever. Well, unless you decide to visit, you really do light up the room when you come by don't you? Or maybe that's just for me.

Anyways, preferably I would be telling you this in person, but more work has piled up. That's also why our little tea sessions have to be put on hold for now. Don't worry, as soon as this all clears up and I investigate this one area, then we can go back to the usual.

I have this one blend I think you'd really like!

Anyways, enough beating around the bush.

I like you.

Like like you.

I love you.

So much.

I can't even begin to describe how much I love you, and even if I did I feel you'd be gagging at how cheesy I was being haha!

But really, I love you so much. I want to be with you, of course I understand if you don't feel the same. But Sigwinnie would have my head if I postponed this confession any longer.

I hope to see you again after my work.

Yours Truly

Wriothesley"

"Hello Y/N

I never thought I'd be writing this kind of letter in my free time. Unfortunately for me, it seems as though fate likes making things harder for me and whenever I want to even try to talk to you about this, it's much more difficult than it was when I practised in the mirror.

Or...

Well...

Practised to Tighnari.

We can ignore that for now though as I'm still trying to put this all together in words.

I would let you borrow my TCG set, you can use it as you please and I'd even let you touch my limited edition cards.

If that's not making any sense then how about a joke?

How does a fruit confess?

They say "Olive You"

Get it, because an olive is a type of fruit, and olive sounds like "I love"

I love you"

"My beloved rose

As much as I'd love to tell you all these words in person, my search for Idrila is still ongoing and I am unsure when I'll be able to see your beautiful face once again.

Ever since my eyes laid on your beauty, I thought I had found Idrila herself, but once I got to know you. Even if you weren't the Goddess, you could almost rival her.

The sparkle in your eyes.

The pretty little smile.

Your wonderful personality.

All those things you think are flaws? I love each and everyone of them. They are not flaws to me and it pains me knowing you think of yourself like that.

Once we meet again, I want to make sure you know how deserving you are of these words, how your 'flaws' aren't flaws and how much I love every bit of you.

Though I am aware I find many things worthy of praise. I want to let you know that you're different.

I don't just want to praise you, compliment you. I wish to love you, hold your hands and protect you with my life, no matter what it takes.

I love you so much, and if I could be so lucky to call you mine. Well, I think I'd be the happiest man alive.

I will return soon,

Signed

Argenti"

"Morning, Afternoon or Night

I'm not too sure when the Cloud Knight will give this to you, or when I'll give this to them. Whatever the case, I won't beat around the bush too much.

I love you.

Nothing could compare the feeling in my heart when I see you.

The smile that will never fade as long as you're there by my side.

You are just amazing. In all my years of living, never would I have thought to have met someone as perfect as you.

Even Fu Xuan herself can see just how enamoured I am for you, although for her. She's been using it as an advantage to do work.

'If you finish now you can see them quicker'

'How would they feel knowing that you're not working?'

'Stop dozing off or they won't come to see you ever again!'

I must admit, they all do work. Even if in hindsight, not only would I still see you even with work uncomplete, I'll see you plenty of times and more to come but I don't think you care all too much about my sleep.

But I digress.

I hope this letter finds you well, take as much time as you need to consider my words and think about your own feelings.

I'll be waiting where I always am.

Jing Yuan"

"Dear Y/N

Aeons this is embarrassing. But it would be even more embarrassing if Serval kept teasing me about this. I've been putting this off for so long, worried about how you'd react.

Your answer.

And if this would change your view on me...but you're not that kind of person. I know you're not. And after a bit of thinking, to save me from stumbling on my words. I decided to write a letter.

Serval should be the one giving this to you, so I hope she didn't say anything to you, I would nearly die of embarrassment if she did. Anyways!

So...I know it's probably not much hoping Serval wouldn't say something actually, knowing her, she gave it away with one sentence but...

I like you, a lot. More than you could ever know.

And I'm more than happy to talk to you about this in full once I'm back from my mission.

I can only pray you feel the same, but even if you don't.

I hope we stay friends.

Until next time,

Gepard"

WOOO FINALLY GOT THIS DONE AFTER FOREVER.

Sorry if any characters are OOC, I tried my best with writing what I think they'd write in a confession letter, but I hope you enjoyed this anyways!

#Diluc x Reader #Diluc x You #Wriothesley x Reader #Wriothesley x You #Cyno x Reader #Cyno x You #Argenti x Reader #Argenti x You #Jing Yuan x Reader #Jing Yuan x You #Gepard x Reader #Gepard x You #hsr x reader #Genshin x reader #hsr imagines #hsr x you #genshin x reader #honkai star rail x you #genshin impact x you

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golden-cherry · 4 months

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deal - cl16 (21/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The truth comes under purple skies.

Warnings: angst, but mostly tooth rotting fluff because you deserve it

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: a little late happy birthday to me! sorry for the wait. I love you.

Although you keep your eyes closed, you know that it is still dark outside.

The air in the room is cool against your face, while your tired body is kept comfortably warm under the heavy comforter. It is just as warm against the free, uncovered parts of your body as Charles' soft skin.

His arm is wrapped around your middle, his fingers are tightly intertwined with yours and his thumb strokes gentle circles over your hand. A tender, loving gesture that you're not sure whether it's meant to calm your nerves or his own.

You haven't changed your positions in bed since you fell asleep pressed tightly together a few hours ago. Charles's chest is still pressed against your back and if you were to focus on it, you could certainly feel his heart beating hard and steady. But you don't. Your thoughts revolve around breathing as normally as possible so that it still looks like you're asleep.

You don't want to be awake.

Being awake would involve thinking, and you definitely don't want to think about the last few days. You don't want to think about how Charles told you that you would jump into bed with Lando at the next opportunity. You don't want to think about Raphael coming to your front door last night and calling you a whore. And you don't want to be reminded that Charles jumped to your side and defended you without so much as batting an eye.

All you want right now is to lie here, in his strong arms, wrapped in his scent and warmth. Deep down, you know you can't be angry with him. Lando's words flit through your head again and again about how you both want to protect each other, and even though you've only known each other for a few days, you can tell Charles so well that it's exactly this part of him that makes him who he is.

But you still don't know why he treated you like that.

You breathe in deeply, take in his scent - a mixture of sandalwood, peppermint and a smell that you can only describe as Charles - and press your face into the soft pillow. Although you had been furious with him, you had missed his closeness over the last few days.

The thumb that has been tenderly drawing figures on your hand pauses.

"I'm sorry." Charles' voice is little more than a whisper against your shoulder blade. As his warm breath brushes over you, your muscles tighten. "No apology in this world can make up for what I did to you. I betrayed your trust, hurt you, and left you thinking I didn't care about you." When you don't answer him, he continues. "I am so incredibly sorry. And I won't ask for your forgiveness or kindness, because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. And I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you."

Your heart beats so fast against your ribcage that you fear it will break your bones and jump out of your chest. His touch feels like your skin is burning. When you open your eyes, you see purple clouds in the morning sky through the window.

Carefully, you turn in his arms, whereupon his embrace loosens a little, but his arm remains on your hip. His eyes are closed, as if he doesn't dare to look into your face. His eyebrows are furrowed and there are a few wrinkles between them that you would love to smooth out with your fingers.

You decide to run your fingers over his bare shoulders. His muscles twitch under your fingertips. "Why did you do it?" Charles remains silent, so you tentatively place your hand against his cheek. You feel his stubble scratch your skin as he exhales deeply, as if he hasn't taken a decent breath in a long time.

He opens his eyes and there is an anxious gleam in the otherwise beautiful green. His gaze searches yours as he nuzzles his face against your hand. "I was jealous."

Jealous?

A small glimmer of hope flares up inside you. Maybe everything you've experienced together - the viewpoint, your movie night, the bookstore, the tiramisu - is based on something other than friendship. On something more. Maybe there was more to every conversation, every look and every smile than just the friendship you nailed down to protect your heart. Maybe you were just talking past each other the whole time. Maybe –

"I was jealous of how well you got on with Lando. I thought that if you got to know each other better and became more than just friends, then we wouldn't be friends anymore. I thought -" He pauses for a moment. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you because of your relationship."

You try to suppress the punch in the pit of your stomach and swallow the frog in your throat. "You hurt me and pushed me away because you didn't want to get hurt yourself?" Your heart breaks a little for him. You finally smooth out the wrinkles between his eyebrows with your thumb. His arm wraps around you tighter and presses you together. His fingers stroke your back and goose bumps spread across your body.

That's exactly what Lando said. That Charles pushes the people he cares about away to protect himself. Something you can well understand, after all, you were planning to do the same to him. Only not so drastically.

But Lando also told you something else about the Monegasque. "But that's not all, is it?" An image flickers in your mind's eye of Raphael holding out his hand to introduce himself to Charles. "You didn't just want to protect yourself. Or am I wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

As you say his name, a shiver jerks through his body, as if he's suddenly cold, and his hand freezes against your spine. "You're not." His tone is cooler, more distant than it was a few moments ago, and the tension in the room is palpable despite the purple clouds and morning calm as you place your hand on his bare chest. His heart is beating fast and strong.

"I - I think we both rushed into this friendship far too quickly." You try to put as much warmth into your whisper as you can, even though deep down your heart has caught quite a tear. "We've known each other for five days. And so much has happened in that time that takes some friends years. Our trust in each other went from zero to one hundred." You run your finger over his collarbone, your gaze following him.

Panting, he sucks air into his lungs at your touch. "What do you suggest?"

You purse your lips. "Maybe - maybe we should get to know each other better first. Get to know each other properly so that this doesn't happen again. So that our living together is easier."

Charles tightens his grip around your middle, his legs tangle with yours. "Living together? Does that mean you're staying with me?"

You nod slightly, but grab your arm with your hand to pull away from him. Something flits across his face, but as quickly as it came, it's gone again as you place his hand between your faces on the pillows. "But maybe a little distance will do us good. So we don't mess this up."

His fingers interlace with yours. "I'll do everything I can to make this work."

"That makes two of us," you smile, missing his touch on your body. You miss the warmth pulsing through your veins under your skin. But it's the right thing to do. At least that's what you try to tell yourself. You take a deep breath. "I - I'm unemployed, by the way." You look down at your hands. "I was fired from this magazine before we met. I'm looking for a new job so that I can continue to live in Monaco, because my savings won't last forever. That's why I'm so grateful to you for standing up for me with Joris. About the rent. I can't thank you enough for that."

"But you don't have to," he replies quietly. "Friends help each other. They're there for each other. I can understand why you didn't tell me. Nobody likes to talk about the fact that they've recently lost their job."

"Thank you," you whisper back. You feel a weight fall from your shoulders. You suddenly find it easier to breathe. But now it's something else that's plaguing your thoughts.

And no one but Charles can give you the answer. "Can you please explain to me what happened yesterday? With - with Raphael?"

The Monegasque briefly lets go of your hand so that he can play with your fingers. He doesn't look at you. "Do you remember the night we watched Cars together?"

You nod. How could you forget that night? The wine, the movie, the flirting that apparently wasn't flirting. Ouch.

"We talked about Formula One and how you used to watch it with your grandfather when Michael Schuhmacher drove for Ferrari." His gaze is literally glued to your fingers. "When we first met, I told you that my work had something to do with cars, and I wasn't lying."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. If he's a mechanic or engineer for one of the racing teams, that woiuld explain why he has to travel so much for work. "Is that where all the cool photos on your phone come from? Because you fly across the globe with Formula 1 to work on the cars?"

Your flatmate purses his lips. "I don't work on the cars. I - I drive them." He licks his lips once. "I'm a Formula One driver for Scuderia Ferrari."

"Don't fuck with me," you reply, wanting to pull your fingers out of his grasp. But he holds on to them and when he lifts his gaze and looks you in the eyes, you know he's telling the truth. And his confession makes you see the last few days from a different perspective.

The conversation between Charles and Joris, shortly after he suddenly appeared in the apartment, pops up in your mind. "When we met, that night - you were on the phone with Joris. You said something about headlines."

He nods slightly. "A few weeks ago, the season ended and Annika and I broke up. I stayed away from here as long as I could because I didn't want to be confronted with it. And when I got to my apartment for emergencies, there you were. With a valid tenancy agreement. I couldn't just throw you out the door. You could have gone public and then it would have made the headlines. Something like "Charles Leclerc throws poor woman out of rented apartment". It was a risk I couldn't take." He furrows his eyebrows again, but this time you hold back.

"You have a nutritionist."

Again he nods. "For the races, I have to follow a strict diet to make the car go faster. Unfortunately, pasta and thick sandwiches aren't part of it, so please don't tell him."

Fragments of the last few days appear one after the other in your mind's eye, which you try to sort out and work through. "The bistro you went to after the bookshop had already closed, hadn't it?"

"Yes. But when do you ever have a Formula One driver on your doorstep who needs two sandwiches?" He shrugs. "One photo and we've had our dinner."

You lick your tongue over your lips and you don't miss the way Charles' eyes twitch to your mouth. "We went everywhere in my car. Why?"

"You've seen my car." He's referring to the fancy Ferrari in the parking garage. "With its stripes, it's not exactly inconspicuous. Especially since everyone knows the car is mine." He runs his thumb over the side of your index finger. "As soon as the car rolls down the street, everyone knows it's me. And everyone takes photos of it. I couldn't risk you getting caught up in all this because of a stupid car. And especially not because you couldn't choose it until now. Your sweet tin can was the only way we could get around the city together without attracting attention."

You clench your jaw. "The meetings in Italy. What about it?"

"The headquarters are there, in Maranello. Before the winter break, the team wanted to get together again and discuss what went wrong this season and what we can improve."

"And you could just leave like that?" you ask him.

He shakes his head. "Not really. But in my opinion, there wasn't much to talk about either. The season was a throwaway." He shrugs his shoulders. "I was actually a little relieved when Lando called and asked me to go home."

So you were right. The Brit did call Charles. "And what did he say?"

"Exactly what I needed to hear." He smiles slightly. "He threw a lot of swear words at me and made it clear that I'd be the stupidest idiot in the world if I screwed up this friendship."

You don't know what to do with this information. The fact that Lando called Charles and made a slug out of him doesn't bother you much, because the Monegasque needed the push. But there's also something about the fact that Charles didn't come up with the idea of straightening things out himself. That one of his friends had to step in for you first so that he would get off his butt and stand up for this friendship. That Lando -

"What about Lando? And Pierre? And Kika? Are they part of Formula One too?"

Charles purses his lips into a thin line. "Lando and Pierre are also drivers. Kika is a model."

Bile rises in your gullet as you release your hand from his and turn onto your back, closing your eyes. Everyone knew, they even work in the same field, and no one thought to let you in on it. The whole thing could have gone down the drain. People could have recognized you both, taken photos of you and spread the word.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I -" Charles exhales. "I was just scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

"My job - my name - brings a lot with it. A lot of good things, like seeing the world, getting to know cultures and not having to worry about things like money. But there are also negative things, like a lot of pressure, fake friends, no privacy." He also turns onto his back. "I don't want you to choose something you don't want because of my name. I thought - I thought if we stayed in our little bubble, our little world, that - I don't know. It was just nice to have someone as a friend who wanted to be friends with me because I'm Charles. And not because I'm Charles Leclerc."

You have to smile. "Actually, I'm only friends with you so that I can live with you and save on rent."

"Haha."

You clasp your hands behind your head. "I can understand, I think. That you have to be careful who you surround yourself with. And that there are a lot of people who only use you because you're you. It sounds very lonely."

Charles snorts softly. "It can definitely be lonely."

"Then let me assure you that I don't want to be friends with you because of your money or your name."

"But?"

"Do you really need reasons?"

"It certainly wouldn't hurt my ego," you can practically hear his grin.

"All right," you reply. "I want to be friends with you because you're kind and considerate of your friends' feelings. Because you trusted me with your favorite place, even though you didn't know me. Because you introduced me to your friends because you thought it was inevitable anyway if our friendship strengthened." You take a deep breath and exhale. "I want to be friends with you because you're funny and make me laugh. Because you have a big heart. Because -"

A feeling bubbles up inside you. You've felt it before - the day after your movie night, when you were reviewing the evening. In the not entirely innocent dream you had about Charles. And when you shared the bed after the bookshop.

It's warm, like a warm blanket, strong like a good hug and bright like Charles' eyes when the sun shines on his face. Charles is not just your roommate. Or your friend. Charles is so much more. Charles is your home.

Before you can complete the sentence, the Monegasque interrupts you. "That's good. That's good enough for me, thank you." He smiles. "It's nice to have you as a friend. Even if I don't deserve it, the way I've treated you."

"Mm-hmm."

"Maybe you should sleep on it one more night and then decide if you really want it. There's so much more that comes with a friendship with me." When you yawn, he has to laugh. "You see? Maybe you're not even able to think straight right now. And then I push you into a friendship that you don't even want."

"I'm sure," you reply tiredly and you notice how your eyes get heavier.

"But -"

Before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his hand and interlace his fingers with yours. You try to ignore the fact that this makes your heart beat faster. "I'm sure of it. Believe me."

When you gently squeeze his fingers twice, he replies with the same gesture. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Then it's a good thing you don't have to find out," you smile and as you yawn again, Charles pulls you closer to him. Like a magnet, you slide across the bed towards him, unable to resist as your face finds its place against the crook of his neck.

He lets go of your hand, but only to wrap his arm around you. His hand rests on the bare skin of your hip, while his other hand pulls your leg over him so that you're half lying on top of him. You are enveloped by him, fully and completely, and as you place your hand on his bare chest, you feel his heartbeat under your fingertips.

You try to convince yourself that it's not beating for you, but as you snuggle even closer to him and your lips touch the soft skin on his neck, you feel it skip a beat. But maybe you're just imagining it.

"I'll be better from now on," he whispers and tentatively presses a kiss to your forehead. Goosebumps spread all over your body, but not because you're cold like he thinks, which is why his arm presses you even tighter against him. "I don't want there to be another moment when you doubt how important you are to me, mon amour."

"You can teach me a little French," you reply. "Then you can hide less from me if I speak your mother tongue too," you joke.

Charles feels your smile on his neck and he is glad that you can't see the blush on his face.

"Anything you want. I'll go to the other side of the world for you if I have to."

"But not until tomorrow, all right?" You gently caress his chest with your fingertips and Charles draws in a sharp breath. "Now it's time to sleep. And don't you dare steal my blanket in the night."

Charles would love to pull you on top of him, kiss you and promise you that you're safe with him and that he won't let anything happen to you. But he holds back, just lets his fingers dance over your skin.

He promises in the purple morning light. "Deal."

next part

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gglitch1dd · 9 days

Text

Listen yall, I know we hate Enji right. Totally hate him.

But like... 👀

Sugar daddy?

Imagine being Enji Todoroki's sugar baby, because my friends say I'm crazy when I say this AND I'M NOT CRAZY!

Warning: Some smut towards the end, INTENSE daddy issues (Glitch starts sweating), Age Gap.

Big bad fire lord Enji who's a father who's children don't trust him. He views himself as a father who failed and considering they are all old enough that they have their own careers, they don't want to rely on him anymore.

Enji who has enough money to burn because his kids wont let him spend it on them.

Divorced, Enji Todoroki who doesn't even want to attempt entering the dating scene because he just knows how that is going to go.

Enji who's still Number One, just waiting for Shoto's generation to finish being sidekicks and burst into the ProHero space and take over the ranks..

Enji who gets dragged to meet and greet one day with Hawks (who only has like a handful of people actually wanting to meet him since everyone is scared of him), and one of them just happens to be you.

You aren't afraid of him, nor do you seem to care that he is a giant muscular man, over twice your size with hands big enough to cover your entire face.

You talk too much, you flutter around him excitedly asking him about how it is as Number One, he isn't your favourite hero by any means but you respect his career and what he's had to do to get there.

He finds you annoying, but he can't help but crack a smile when you attempt to make him laugh.

Enji who finds himself thinking about you at the end of the day, in his empty home wondering whether you would smile as big as you did today.

Enji who meets you a few days later while at a coffee shop by pure coincidence. Who actually gets the courage to talk to you and ask about you.

The two of you talk for a few minutes, you telling him about what course in varsity you were in and what exactly you were doing.

He honestly wanted to throw in the towel when he found out you were nearly twenty years younger than him. That sounded like his next scandal.

However, you managed to make him feel as if time just ran by.

Somehow, between getting to know you better and managing to actually get your number, he found out that you were struggling financial. Your average student that was just trying to make enough money to survive and pay off the student debt you were in.

So Enji decided to help. Not because he wanted anything back, but he had the money that you could use.

That's how Enji became your Sugar Daddy, although he hated the term. He was something like a boyfriend but not really. A Sugar daddy but not really.

The both of you grew close, your own issues and traumas fueling your relationship. He was a failed father and you felt like a failed daughter.

He found pleasure in the little things. In having you hold his hand and drag him around the mall, your eyes catching on clothes that you would love to wear or him buying you a new laptop because yours was old or buying you a new phone because you got a good grade, or him sitting you down for a nice meal because you deserved to taste good wine more than ten times older than you.

However, Enji wasn't expecting to have you come into his home and wind your way into his bed.

Enji was not weak by any means. His self control was impeccable and so was his own strength.

However, having you hold onto his shoulders as you struggled to take his fat Coke can of a cock, was a type of rush he didn't expect to find again. To have you whining, telling him how big he was, how warm his skin was and how nice he felt inside you, all around you. He could encage you so easily too.

He wasn't rough at you the first time. He was slow and methodically, watching you undo yourself on his cock in pure bliss. You whined as you held onto him for dear life, almost as if you were afraid he would disappear. But Enji didn't disappear.

He was right there, and he held his large arms around you. He would rather die than have you, his little flame, disappear and be snuffed out of his life.

-Glitch1d

(random thought honestly)

#enji todoroki x reader #enji x reader #enji todoroki #enji todoroki x reader smut #enji todoroki smut #endeavor x reader #endeavor smut #todoroki enji x reader #todoroki enji x reader smut #todoroki enji smut

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rosettyller · 8 months

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some analysis of this scene from 2x02, because i am going absolutely insane over it:

first up: it's 2 500 BCE. They've known each other for around 1500 years at this point, but they haven't been meeting up very often; it's implied at this point, that they've only met at the Garden, and the Flood, and now here (as well as in Heaven, but there's varying interpretations about how much they each remember of Heaven).

(worth noting that these meetings are all bible-related meetings)

So, they don't know each other very well at all. This is why Aziraphale approaches Crowley so cautiously (apart from the fact that he thinks Crowley's going around murdering goats and soon kids). He doesn't know what happened to Crowley when he Fell, how he changed when he fell in with Lucifer, how God's rejection has warped Crowley's perspective or changed his morals (their meeting at the Flood seemed quite short, not enough time to get a definite picture.)

Aziraphale is still seeing Crowley as demonic, although there's already that thread of doubt - can you really see him trying to talk Hastur or Ligur out of this the way he does Crowley?

Aziraphale clings to the memory of Angel Crowley - Crowley gets quite defensive.

Here, Crowley reinforces that he's changed - personally I don't believe that he did fight in the War, but his views of God's Plan definitely got more extreme than "thats terrible god should get a suggestion box".

But, I also believe that here, Crowley is reinforcing that he is no longer an angel, and therefore no longer has to play by angel rules. He can do what he wants. He's a demon, it's in his job description.

And of course, that he is a demon, and he is Evil, and of course he would kill goats.

(more under the cut, because I just can't stop talking)

This shot is very yellow. Crowley's hair being the season 1 orange rather than red, the yellow walls, all accentuate the colour of Crowley's eyes, highlighting the physical reminder of Crowley's demonic nature.

I couldn't be bothered to gif it, but here, Crowley leans forward into Aziraphale's face. There are two reasons for this:

Get his yellow Demon Eyes right in Aziraphale face, just to hammer home his point.

It's an aggressive action, moving into someone's personal space like that. Saying, I could hurt you, I'm violent and aggressive and dangerous, I killed those goats, the kids are next.

The way the light hits Crowley's eyes in the above shot and the below shot also make them a very bright yellow. (Edit: I think someone pointed out that Crowley is making his eyes glow, but the overall yellowness of the scene serves to highlight this)

Clever wording on Crowley's part, because as we will find out, he faked the destruction of the goats to keep them safe, while making himself sound very evil.

You'll notice the repetition of "blameless"; this makes him seem even more evil, hurting the innocent, but also gives deeper insight into one of Crowley's biggest issues: hurting the innocent. What have they done to deserve this? Nothing.

This ties in quite nicely with what we have seen before of Crowley and free will; he gives people the option to sin. It's their actions that decide whether they end up in Heaven or Hell; they get what they deserve for their actions. He just makes it easier to choose Hell. (see: phone lines being down making people crankier and encouraging them to be horrible to each other, but it still being their choice, setting the holy water bucket above the door, so it's Ligur's choice to come in after Crowley that gets him killed.)

Note also the use of "long":

Aziraphale says to "tell me you want to do this". "Long" has rather stronger connotations than "want", but also rawer, more fundamental. Crowley is reminding Aziraphale that he is a demon, and that he has the traits of a demon, this is what he is now. He longs for violence, for destruction.

Aziraphale looks quite sad here. If you watch the video I linked, his previous conviction that Crowley doesn't want to do it is very strong. He fully believes in Crowley, that all he needs to do is reframe not killing the kids as within the rules of Hell, the way Crowley so often comes to do for Aziraphale ("Then you can't be certain that thwarting me isn't part of the divine plan too. I mean, you're supposed to thwart the wiles of the Evil One at every turn, aren't you?" "If you put it that way, Heaven couldn't actually mind me thwarting you.").

Aziraphale believed Crowley was still good, that the angel he remembered was still in there. But Crowley rejects it - and it hurts. Crowley has become what a demon should be.

Crowley looks quite sorrowful here, too: he already cares for Aziraphale (he fell in love at the Garden), and it hurts to decieve him, to disappoint him, to hurt him.

I would argue that here, Crowley is scared.

He's in shadow, which dims the yellows; his undemonic nature is about to be revealed.

And that is not safe, because Hell does not send rude notes. And here, Crowley is not doing just any temptation, but trying to help Satan win a bet (supposedly). And out of every demon in Hell, Satan is the one you want to piss off the least.

But here, Crowley is scared because Aziraphale could reveal him - because Aziraphale is on God's side, and because it is revealed that Crowley is not nearly as demonic as he makes himself out to be. He's vulnerable. Aziraphale could scorn him, hurt him. But instead:

Aziraphale is incredibly smug. "I knew I was right", he says. "I knew you were still good".

And here is another issue: Aziraphale conflates God/Heaven/angels with good, and demons/Hell with bad.

And Crowley does not see Heaven as good. He doesn't want Aziraphale to see his angelic core past the demonic exterior. He's on his own side.

This, for Aziraphale, confirms that "the angel you knew is not me", is not correct.

And I think, out of the three minisodes, it's this one that does the most for fleshing out Aziraphale and Crowley's frames of mind this series, and why they choose what they choose in ep6.

Aziraphale has been proven right about Crowley's angelic nature, and that he wants to do good, but can't, for fear of Hell's retribution.

And Crowley does not see Heaven as good. He recognises that being an angel again will not allow him the freedom to do good. (as Aziraphale had to try and talk a demon into helping him save the kids from God.)

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #meta #good omens meta #job minisode #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #go meta #good omens analysis #late.meta

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aphroditelovesu · 5 months

Text

Yandere L Lawliet Headcanons (General)

"I'm always two steps ahead of you, if not more, my sweetie." — L Lawliet.

❝ 📓 — lady l: watching Death Note again and commenting with a friend, I ended up thinking about it and decided to do some L headcanons, because I love him! 🖤 Hope you like it :) 🤍

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, stalking, unhealthy relationships, mention of kidnapping.

❝📓pairing: yandere!l lawliet x gender neutral!reader.

L Lawliet is very scary because he is very smart. A detective, the best detective. He is very good at reading people, at his deductions. There is no running away from him, he will always find you.

He was already stalking you before you even knew it. Before you even knew about his existence, L was already after you. Always behind you, watching you and gathering as much information about you as possible.

L knew about everything you. What was your childhood like, your fears, your desires, your dreams, everything. There is no privacy at all with him, he wants to be able to read you like a book and he does. There's nothing he can't figure out eventually.

He began to appear in your life slowly and normally, for you at least. He just seemed like an ordinary guy who needed some sleep and straightened out his back, but that was it. You had no idea who he really was, how obsessed he was with you.

L has morals that can be easily corrupted when he becomes obsessed. He believes that he is justice and he does in his way, which is not always the right way to do it. He firmly believes in justice above all else, his justice.

He doesn't believe that what he feels, that the things he did for you are considered wrong. L is delusional enough to believe he is right, but he will never do anything against your will. He respects you enough for that.

L is a natural stalker, it's one of his hobbies as a detective. Although he doesn't persecute you in the literal sense of the word, he usually sends Watari to watch you and accompany you somewhere. Whether it's going to school or work, he'll have his butler protecting you.

He won't risk your safety, especially with Kira on the loose. You're not a criminal, but L won't take any risks. He's never made a mistake before and it won't be you he makes a mistake with. Not when one mistake could cause your death.

Always very careful, L would only reveal himself to you when he was sure he would have your trust. He is very, very manipulative and will make you trust no one else but him. Not even your family could be as trustworthy as L. He would definitely lock you up at home if he could.

L has cameras in your house, all aimed at crucial points in your house. In your bedroom, in your living room, in your kitchen, everywhere there is a camera watching you. It had become a habit for him to spend hours a day looking at the images, waiting for you.

He's not the possessive type, but L has his limits and won't tolerate someone approaching you with ulterior motives. He is very quick to think, to deduce that there is someone interested in you and he will quickly push them away from you. He usually uses his manipulation for this. L is not in the habit of killing and will never do so unless it is really necessary.

Once his obsession consumed him for good, L could no longer remain but shadows. He could no longer remain in the background, watching you take risks every day, he needed to do something. And he did, during one night, you woke up in an unfamiliar room and with a pale guy, sitting in a strange way, staring at you intensely. You were finally with him.

You may think you're smarter than him, that you can get away from L, but he'll always be two steps ahead of you. You have nowhere to run. L would finally have you and he wouldn't let you go.

#death note #yandere death note #l lawliet #l Lawliet x reader #yandere l lawliet #yandere l lawliet x reader #yandere lawliet headcanons #yandere headcanons #headcanons #death note x reader #yandere death note x reader

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dreamcubed · 8 months

Text

me! | george weasley x reader

song; me! [taylor swift, brendon uri(n)e] pairing; george weasley x fem!muggle!reader genre; accidental marriage, s2l, fluff, comedy word count; 7,8k timeline; post-second wizarding war (fred lives au) warnings; swearing, referenced alcohol consumption, references to hook-ups, references to sex, references to the war summary; after waking up in bed with a red-haired stranger and no memories of the night prior, you run off as quickly as you can. it isn't until months later when you're trying to buy a house that you learn that you can't just leave that forgotten night in the past

thought it would be ironic to have the song with the lyrics "i promise that you'll never find another like me" and "i'm the only one of me" with one of the twins lol

masterlist

"you're the kinda guy the ladies want."

————————————————

Typically, you were more responsible than this. You had always stayed away from drunk hook-up culture, hoping (perhaps too idealistically) to find organic love. Yet, on the night of your cousin's bachelorette party, you got so drunk that you found yourself in bed with a stranger the next morning. And you didn't know what to do.

All you could do for a few moments was look around the hotel room that you had evidently decided was necessary for the hook-up - and although you couldn't remember a single thing after your tenth shot at the club, the fact you were both naked gave away the events of the night prior.

He was red-haired, and quite nicely toned, but he also donned a partially missing ear. You couldn't see his face, so at that particular moment you couldn't judge whether or not drunk you had good taste. You pushed that thought aside - that was the least of your concerns. You needed to get out of there and forget that anything had ever happened, which shouldn't be too difficult thanks to the alcohol-induced memory loss.

So, with that, you slipped out of bed and scavenged for all your clothes around the room, and then quickly departed. You made it all the way down to the lobby without any human interaction, but it was there at the desk that you finally had to communicate.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?" the receptionist smiled at you.

You frowned, not understanding why they would address you as such - probably had mistaken you for someone else. But, you were in a hurry, so just grinned and nodded, leaving to never return.

***

Not many people were fortunate enough to buy their first home (alone) at the age of twenty-four without any help from their parents, but you had chosen a rather well-paid career path and had been meticulous with your money savings, so this was a reality for you. After a few months of working with a real estate agent to view houses and find the perfect home for you, you had finally come to a decision.

You had stumbled upon it really, when travelling from London to visit your family, you came across a road that you had sworn hadn't been there before. Curiosity had overcame you, and you had driven down it to find the cutest village named Godric's Hollow, which could also be described as peculiar. A lot of things in the village didn't make sense - like the fact they all seemed bewildered at the sight of your car - but the architecture was gorgeous. When you drove past an adorable rustic cottage with a 'for sale' sign out front, you didn't even have to think twice about viewing it.

It was a strange process, however, as the sign didn't have a number for the real estate agency, but instead read 'owl Cauldron Realtors for more details'. You asked around for information about Cauldron Realtors (a particularly strange name, comparable to the robes many of the older members of the village wore), and they pointed you in the direction of the realtor's.

From then on, the process to view the house and apply for a mortgage had been relatively normal, if not a bit old-fashioned in the lack of technology used. However, you reasoned that it was a small village and that they merely hadn't updated themselves like cities just yet.

***

"Why have you asked me to come here?" you asked as delicately as you could upon entering Cauldron Realtors.

"We have had something come up," Mr Linseed said to you. He was an eccentric old man, constantly adorning a pair of half-moon spectacles perched on the tip of his nose.

"Like what?"

"You told us that you weren't married."

You frowned.

"And I thought it was a bit strange given your muggle situation, but honestly I had simply assumed that you were a squib."

He was using a lot of words that you didn't understand. You had heard the word muggle passed around in the time that you had spent in Godric's Hollow, but had been unable to find out what it meant online or in any dictionary. Everyone used it so commonly you had felt too embarrassed to ask.

"Obviously, this changes the process for you to apply for a mortgage. We need your husband to sign off either that he will partially own the house or have no claim over it."

"I don't understand- I'm not married," you said.

"No?" the man raised a brow at you, "When we searched for legal documentation of your name, we found that it hadn't been Y/N L/N for a few months, but instead Y/N Weasley. I didn't think much of you not having gotten around to changing your bank details yet since it hasn't been long, but going by your maiden name is a little strange. So, I assumed that the marriage was short-lived."

Why did Weasley sound so familiar? You wracked your brain for when you had heard it before.

"Heading out for a bit, Mrs Weasley?"

Your eyes widened.

The guy from the hotel.

"What did you say my husband's name was?" you said slowly.

"I didn't, but George Weasley," Mr Linseed replied, "You knew that, though, correct?"

You nodded, "Yeah... just making sure."

The man frowned at you, "He is quite well-known I suppose - the shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is quite famous. Anyhow, here are the new forms that I need you to fill out and then we will be back on track."

You accepted them in a daze, but snapped your eyes up towards him again, "Where can I find Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"Diagon Alley, of course," Mr Linseed was clearly confused that you didn't know where your husband worked.

You had never heard of Diagon Alley, and he sensed that.

"You know? Through The Leaky Cauldron? On Charing Cross Road?"

Finally, a name you recognised.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Mr Linseed, I'll be back soon."

God, what a process to get yourself a house.

***

You were pretty sure that in all your visits to Charing Cross Road, you had never seen that pub squeezed between those buildings before. But, you weren't about to complain, as you were desperate to find George Weasley and sort everything out. You couldn't remember his face, but you remembered his red hair and partially missing ear - that should be enough to identify him.

You hoped, anyway.

Upon entering the gloomy pub, you were met by quite a shocking sight - but one that wasn't entirely indifferent to Godric's Hollow. Except, you would describe the pub as having a more creepy ambiance, in a way. Beady eyes peered in your direction as you walked up to the bar, and you tried to hold your own as a woman with matted grey hair and disturbingly long fingernails smiled at you with missing teeth. You forced a smile back.

"Excuse me," you said to the bartender, who was similar to the woman in energy, "How do I get to Diagon Alley?"

He pointed to the door out the back.

"Just through that door?"

"You'll need your wand too," the woman who had smiled at you said, "To tap the wall."

"Wand?" you squeaked.

"I'll show you," the woman said eerily.

In any normal circumstance, you would have declined the offer, but you had already had so many new experiences you found yourself following her out the back.

"You're not one of us, are you?" she asked with a giggle of glee, pulling out a wooden stick from her pocket.

You didn't reply, watching as she brought it up and tapped some of the bricks on the wall. To your amazement, they then parted, presenting to you the most bustling and magical street that you had ever seen.

"Diagon Alley," she stated, "Although I prefer Knockturn Alley."

You thanked her, and hurried into the street.

***

The pet shops were strange: mostly having owls, cats and toads. The book shops were strange: having cages of moving books in the display windows. The clothes shops were strange: pretty much exclusively selling robes and pointed hats. All in all, Diagon Alley was the most eccentric place you had ever been.

There was a broomstick shop, a wand shop, and a place to buy cauldrons. You were so out of your depth that you decided you should focus on the task at hand.

It wasn't long before you found a bright and buzzing shop named Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, looking ten times more exciting than all the shops before it. You were almost overwhelmed with all the young people inside once you entered, and it finally became obvious to you that it was a joke shop. The numerous prank items on display were clearly enchanted in a way too, only furthering your amazement at this street.

You scanned around for a redhead, but it was really difficult to spot anything within the chaos. Eventually, you located a flash of red by the till and hurried over. The queue was unfortunately long, but you waited impatiently nonetheless.

When you finally reached the front, the red-haired man behind it looked at you, and you couldn't help but noticed he had two full ears.

"Are you buying anything, miss?"

"I'm looking for George Weasley," you said quickly.

He rose an eyebrow at you, "What for?"

"It's a long story, I really need to talk to him."

"I'll fetch him," he said, and disappeared out back for a few moments before returning with a man almost identical to him save for that all-too-familiar ear. He didn't look at you like he recognised you - maybe he drank so much he had memory loss too? That would make sense, considering he hadn't tried to find you either.

"Can I help you?" George Weasley asked, gesturing for you to move to the side so that his twin could continue at the till.

"This is gonna sound crazy, but," you took a deep breath, "You're my husband."

"You're right, that does sound crazy," he chuckled.

"You woke up in a hotel room a few months ago, right?"

His eyes widened, "I thought I hooked up with someone," he said, "Wasn't sure, though, because I woke up alone."

"Sorry about that. I don't really do hook-ups, I kinda freaked out and bolted."

"I don't really do hook-ups either," he shrugged, "No hard feelings."

"Anyway, as I said, it turns out we got married that night."

"Wow. I honestly can't remember anything."

"Me neither," you shook your head, "And we can't get an annulment - the cut off is three months. And we were way too efficient with sending off the marriage registration - we did it immediately."

He hummed, "That's quite a predicament. Divorce, then?"

You nodded, "Yes, obviously. But that will take ages, and I'm trying to buy a house for myself right now. I need you to sign off that you have no claim over it."

"That's no problem," thank God he was agreeable, "But what's your name?"

"Y/N L/N," you said, "Well, legally Y/N Weasley."

The man smirked at you, which admittedly made your stomach flip. Drunk you definitely had good taste: this man was gorgeous.

"Where's the house you're buying?" he asked.

"Godric's Hollow."

"Ah, my sister lives there," he hummed, "Nice village."

"Can I ask you a question - since you're my husband and all?" you didn't know why you added the last bit.

"Fire away."

"Why does everyone keep going on about muggles and wizards and witches and magic? I'm so lost, I don't know what's happening."

"Wait- you're a muggle?"

"As everyone apparently keeps saying."

He chuckled, "Oh, wow. My wife's a muggle."

"What does it mean?"

"I'll explain," he gestured towards the door to the back room, "But it'll be a lot to take in."

"I don't care, I just want an explanation."

And so, your husband, George Weasley, explained about the wizarding world that he was a part of. And how, by marrying him, you had automatically been granted permission by the Ministry of Magic to be an exception for all anti-muggle charms. Which was why you discovered the road to Godric's Hollow all of a sudden as a non-magic person, which you learned was what muggle meant.

At the very end of his explanation, you sat back in the armchair he had offered to you, "That explains so much. It's insane- but I'm relieved that it's not me going crazy."

"Must be quite a shock," he hummed, "I can't believe we got married. Are there any photos?"

"I mean, I suppose we could find the chapel we got married at and ask."

"Maybe it will trigger some memories of that night. I got drunkenly married - who knows what else I did?" he sighed.

"I don't know if I want to know."

George shrugged, "Better to find out that way than have a random woman come into your place of work and announce she's your wife."

You grimaced, making him laugh.

"I'm just teasing."

"Can I get your number? So I can contact you when I need to?" you asked.

George stared at you, "Number?"

"How do wizards and witches communicate?" you exasperated.

"By owl."

You blanked.

"You might want to get yourself one if you're moving into a wizarding village."

"How do they know where to go?"

"They just do."

You sighed.

***

"So, I phoned the chapel that we got married at and they confirmed that we signed the marriage registration and sent it off immediately," you said to George, taking a seat opposite him in your flat that you currently resided in, "They also posted this to me." You presented a large envelope to your husband and watched as he carefully opened it - even though it was already unsealed thanks to you.

He pulled out a marriage certificate: lettered in italic gold writing and clearly signed on the bottom two corners. As he pulled that out, another piece of card fluttered to the ground. You chewed your lip as you watched him pick it up.

"Wow," was all he said.

It was the same reaction you had when looking upon the photo of you and George at the alter: lips pressed together with smiles creeping on to your faces.

"We look so happy."

You hummed, "The photo hasn't triggered any memories for me."

You watched curiously as he waved it about. "It's weird that muggle photos don't move," he commented, "But- yeah- I can't remember anything more either."

"Maybe it's been too long," you reasoned, "Perhaps if we'd seen the photo the day after, it would've helped."

"Probably," he shrugged, "I can find a charm or potion that will help us remember - if you want to."

It hadn't occurred to you that magic was now a readily available tool.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you said after a while, "I just really want to seal the deal on my house."

George nodded, "Of course, I'll sign the papers saying I have no right to it."

"Thank you for making this so easy," you said, giving him a warm grin, "When I found out I was married, I was so worried it was to a complete asshole."

"When I found out I was married, I thought it was simply a cute way a gorgeous woman had of flirting with me."

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his comment. George was a stunning man: his damaged ear only added a rugged element to him, enhancing his beauty in a way that you didn't know possible.

He noticed your flustered reaction and chuckled a bit, "However, there is one problem with me signing those papers that your real estate agent really should've mentioned."

"What?" you filled with worry: that house was your dream house.

"If you're buying a house in the wizarding world, you're going to need a wizarding bank account."

"He kept going on about galleons," you thought for a moment, "But then he converted to pounds so I didn't think much of it."

George hummed, "Yes, but you're still going to need to pay in galleons."

"How do I get a wizarding bank account?"

"Only wizards, witches, squibs and muggles married to any of the former can access one. Oh, and muggles with magic children, even if they aren't married."

You realised what he was getting at. "So I can get one, but..."

"But it has to be a shared one with me."

You pulled your hands down your face, "But I love that house so much."

"I promise you I'm not trying to trap you."

"No, no- I get it. I just- that means I'd have to stay married to you until my mortgage is paid off. And that takes like thirty years."

"Even then, the bills would still need to be paid in galleons."

"Oh, fuck," you muttered, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

George watched you in silence.

"I'm sorry. I'll divorce you and forget about the house," you said eventually, "It's not fair for me to force you to stay in a marriage for the rest of your life - I mean, I can't force you."

"I didn't say anything about that."

You frowned. In your mind, there was no other option.

"I'm willing to do it."

"George, it's just a house, you really don't need to-"

"I will," he reiterated, "You realise that if you divorce me, you won't be able to access the magic world anymore?"

It had become something you were so excited to explore that you were disheartened by that fact.

"It would be cruel for me to take it away from you, I think."

"But-"

"So, I will set you up on my bank account, sign off on the house, and stay married to you."

Your mouth was opened wide as you stared at him, and in a flash you had leaped across the coffee table in order to pull him into a hug.

"You're so amazing," you mumbled, hugging him tighter as he returned the embrace, "Thank you so much."

"Hey, anything for my wife," he chuckled.

Your heart stopped.

***

"I've had to change my name on my driver's license and passport and bank account and everything else," you sighed, "Such a hassle for a fucking house."

George, who was walking with you throughout the empty house that you had just officially bought, chuckled, as he seemed to enjoy doing, "You must really love this place."

You shrugged, "The house, I would probably get over. An entire magical world that I would lose access to? Not so much."

He hummed, gazing around the place. You had decided that he at least deserved to see the property that he had given up so much for you to own.

"I can't wait to begin decorating," you sighed, "I have big plans for the downstairs rooms and the master bedroom."

"What about the other bedrooms?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," you pondered, "I'll probably make one of them an office, but the other two, I honestly don't know. It'll be a while before I have any kiddly winks running around."

"How come?"

"I need to find a man to create them with first," you reminded, "And that will be especially complicated since I'm married."

"Not if it's with me."

You were pretty sure his words held a joking undertone, so you laughed.

"Well, I shan't keep you any longer," you said, "I guess we'll keep in touch?"

"Stop by my shop as much as you can," George replied, but you sensed a slight trace of sadness in his voice.

Nonetheless, you smiled, "Of course."

***

Was two days later too soon to take George up on his offer of stopping by? Maybe, but life was too short for you to not do the things that you wanted to do. Plus, you were exhausted from moving furniture and painting (since you were stuck doing it the 'muggle' way), so a getaway from your new home was needed.

After getting someone from the Leaky Cauldron to let you into Diagon Alley, you made your way down to the corner that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes sat on. You couldn't help the fond smile that tugged on your lips as you pushed open the door and heard the tinkle of the bell above you. The last time you were there, you had been too nervous about meeting your husband to properly appreciate the joyful buzz of the shop; it was truly a marvel to witness. You wish you had grown up with access to such extraordinary things.

"Hello," a redhead popped up beside you.

You jumped a little, not failing to notice the fact this man, although initially appearing to be George, had two full ears.

"Hello... Fred?" you attempted to recall his name.

He nodded, "I must say, I wasn't expecting my sister-in-law to pop by today."

It hadn't occurred to you that George would have mentioned his marriage to his twin brother, but now it seemed obvious that he would have.

"Is my husband here?" you asked, adding a joking undertone. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but notice how warm saying that made you feel.

"Of course, he's out back."

"Should I...?" you trailed off.

"You don't need to ask permission to go out back," he chuckled, in a strikingly similar way to George, "You're married to one of the owners."

"Yeah, but-" but before you could finish your sentence, your brother-in-law had disappeared. With a sigh, you proceeded on your way to the staff-only space, unable to push aside how special you felt being able to freely enter the area.

It was only when you caught sight of George's back did you realise that you had nothing to say and had simply stopped by.

"Y/N!" he smiled, turning around upon sensing your presence, "What brings you here?"

You shrugged, "You said to stop by often."

His grin stretched wider, "That I did, I'm glad to see you."

You felt shy after hearing him say that, and avoided eye contact.

"How's moving in going?"

"Oh- well. Exhausting, though," you sighed.

"I can't imagine having to do everything without magic," he said, "If you want any help to speed up the process, I'm more than willing."

You shook your head, "You've done enough for me."

"I could never do enough for you," he half-mumbled, but you heard it. You couldn't believe it, but you heard it. "I'm free this weekend," he said at a more regular volume.

"I mean- if you're sure-"

"Of course I'm sure."

"I-" you stopped yourself, "Thank you, George."

"Georgie!" a voice called from the front of the shop, not long before a short plump woman appeared in the doorway. "There you are," she said with hands on her hips.

"Oh, hi, mum," he said, "I wasn't expecting you."

"I was just in town looking to pick up your father a new shirt - I don't know how he wears them out so quickly!" she sighed, "I thought I'd take the chance to invite you over for a roast on Sunday."

You smiled at the evidently kind woman.

"And who is this?" she asked.

"This is Y/N."

"How did you two meet?" this time she had a glint in her eye.

"Uh, funny story, actually," George scratched the back of his head, "We're married."

You were surprised at his honesty with his mother.

The woman's eyes widened, "And you didn't tell me!"

"No one knew, mum- not even us," he quickly added.

She seemed to ignore what the last part of his statement implied, and swooped you into her arms, "Welcome to the family, my dear, we have a lot of time to make up for! You'll be coming on Sunday too, yes?"

She didn't give you a chance to reply.

"I'll have to tell your father immediately - do all your siblings know? I expect Fred does. Probably Ron too." She paused, "I haven't even introduced myself! Molly Weasley - call me Molly, of course."

"Mum-"

"Godric- I have so many people to tell! I'll see you both Sunday at four o'clock, please don't be late."

And with a hug to both of you, Molly Weasley departed just as rapidly as she had arrived.

"I'm sorry about that- my mum can be very full on," George apologised.

"I think she's sweet."

A soft smile graced his face, "Yes, she's a very lovely woman."

You hummed.

"I'll get you out of the dinner."

You frowned, "Why?"

"Well, my family will think you're- well-"

With a shrug, you replied, "I don't mind."

"I have a big family."

"I know."

"Most of them are quite loud people."

"That's okay."

"They'll ask a lot of questions."

"George, I want to meet your family," you realised as soon as you said them what your words could potentially mean.

"It's just- I- I don't want them to scare you away."

"Scare me away?"

He nodded.

You chuckled, "I'd like to see them try."

***

Sunday rolled around quickly, and as promised, George showed up at your house to pick you up at five to four. You figured that his parents must live very nearby if he was picking you up so late, but you hadn't given it much thought. All you had done was focused on yourself, dressing up what you deemed the adequate amount for a family event.

A knock sounded on the door, and you quickly rushed to open it, smiling when you were faced with the red headed man that you could call your husband. He was wearing a knitted jumper and baggy jeans, which was a relief to you since you also sported a knitted jumper, just with a skirt instead.

"Hello," you said, almost shyly.

"Hey," he replied, "You ready to go?"

"Yep, let me just-" you hurried back inside to grab the bouquet of flowers that you had bought for his mother, you weren't familiar with the guidelines for meeting family as you had never been in a relationship long enough to reach that stage, but flowers had felt like the right thing.

"Oh, for me?" he said teasingly.

You shook your head, dramatically holding them away from him, "You would be so lucky."

He chuckled, "Right, let's get going," he held out his arm for you to take, "You're gonna want to hold tight."

You frowned, but took his advice nonetheless, taking a firm grip of his bicep which had a hardness that made your heart flip. But before you could dwell on that thought, you felt like you had been sucked into a vacuum and spat out again in a split second. Your stomach cramped up and you felt nauseous as you fell on to grass in a completely new location.

"Sorry, that often happens the first time," George quickly helped you up along with the flowers, which thankfully were unharmed.

"Did we just- teleport?" you asked, holding your stomach. Thankfully, the nausea was already dissipating.

"We call it apparating but yes, we did."

"Why couldn't I be born a witch?" you whined, following George as he began walking up the path ahead of you.

You could only be amazed when the strangest house that you had ever seen came into view: looking like it should tumble over instantly with the mismatched extensions stacked on top of each other. Not too long ago, you would have been worried about its sketchy looking state, but now you immediately concluded that it was kept steady by magic. Even at the distance you still were from the house, you could hear a lot of noise coming from it.

"I bet you anything Fleur and Hermione insisted on being early," George grumbled, "Making my brothers look like angelic sons."

You smiled to yourself: his relationship with his siblings was making you want to reach out to your sister.

George didn't bother knocking when you reached the door, simply throwing it open and grinning at everyone who was stood around the kitchen. You couldn't help but feel some level of nerves as you were faced with so many strangers.

"George! Y/N!" Molly beamed, pulling you both into a hug, "I'm so glad that you could make it."

You presented the flowers to her, "I got you these."

"Oh, they're gorgeous!"

You watched as she pulled out her wand and arranged them in a vase without even using her hands. You didn't think observing magic would ever get old.

"Thank you, dear," she said, before turning to the others in the room. There was Ron, who you vaguely recognised from the shop, with a curly brown-haired woman on his side. Then there was the most ethereal woman that you had ever seen next to one of the more rugged looking men that you had seen in your time. There was also an older, balding, red headed man, who you suspected to be George's father.

"Y/N, you might remember Ron here," George said, and you nodded, "And this is his fiancée, Hermione. This is my dad, and over there is my oldest brother, Bill, and his wife, Fleur."

"Our little shit of a son is running around here somewhere," Bill added.

"Pleasure to meet you, Y/N," George's father shook your hand, "You can call me Arthur."

"I didn't realise you were bringing a guest, George," Hermione said.

"Oh, she's no guest," Molly smiled, "She's family."

The only person who didn't exchange confused glances was Ron.

"I'm his, uh, wife," you said, feeling awkward. You didn't really want to say it, because it felt like you were lying to them even though you weren't.

What followed was an array of congratulations, and Hermione accusing Ron of not telling her when he clearly already knew. And then, upon being asked, you both finally revealed that it was an accidental marriage upon which you were both very drunk. Molly was new to this news as well, but nonetheless, before you could give any more detail on where your 'relationship' with George currently stood, she spoke.

"As irresponsible as that was, I think there's something beautiful in the fact that you're now happily married."

While you weren't unhappily married, you didn't know how to say that you didn't know you were married until a couple months later, and that you weren't in a relationship with George. He said nothing to clarify, either.

That was when a small boy tumbled into the room.

"Ah, zis is Victoire," Fleur said, "Our son."

He was just as red headed as his father.

God, your kids with George would probably end up redheaded.

You internally froze at that thought - why had it seemed so natural to imagine yourself having kids with George?

You were yet again distracted from your mind, as seemed common in the Weasley household, when more people arrived. It was Fred and his fiancée, Angelina, as you soon learned. Shortly followed by Harry Potter, allegedly quite a celebrity, who was dating George's only sister, Ginny.

The only person to arrive alone was Percy, who had a much less chaotic energy than the rest of his siblings.

"You'll meet Charlie at some point," Molly said to you, "But he lives in Romania for his work with dragons."

It was insane to you that George had five brothers and one sister; having six siblings seemed like such a hectic upbringing. That thought almost led you to brush over Molly's mention of dragons - dragons?

Once again, you were introduced as George's wife, solidifying you in their eyes as a sister-in-law. These were your in-laws, you realised.

"Dinner's almost ready," Molly announced over the noise of all the people.

Many people rushed forward to help the woman with the finishing touches and laying the table, and you felt like an ass for not assisting as well, but you would have been of no help. They were all using magic, which was ten times faster than you could complete any task.

"What year did you graduate school? I can't remember you," Ginny said, evidently assuming that her lack of recognition was because you had been in a different year at Hogwarts from her. George had told you how most witches and wizards in a similar age group knew each other because of there only being one magic school in the country.

"I didn't go to Hogwarts," you said.

"Oh, did you study abroad?" she asked, walking over to the table with you.

"No, uh, I'm a- I'm a muggle."

Her eyes widened in realisation, "Oh! I see," she hummed, "That makes sense now that I think about it."

"You're a muggle?" Hermione, who had overheard, said.

You nodded.

"I'm muggle-born," she said, "I was raised muggle."

"I was raised muggle too," Harry added on, "But I'm not muggle-born."

After that point, Arthur Weasley kept posing an array of questions to you, explaining that he was fascinated by muggles, and it was even what had led him to having the job that he did. Wanting to be liked, you answered all his questions as best as you could, and found his childlike curiosity quite endearing.

"Leave the poor girl alone, Arthur," Molly scolded her husband.

"I don't mind," you replied, and, really, you didn't.

The food was absolutely delicious, to the point you almost moaned when you first put it in your mouth. You didn't think you had ever eaten such delectable food before, and you made sure that Molly knew.

Once the first course was finished and dessert was being brought out, Bill and Fleur stood up.

"We have an announcement to make," the latter smiled, looking to her husband.

"Fleur's pregnant," Bill grinned, placing his hand on her abdomen.

"Oh, that's wonderful news!" Molly exclaimed, "How far along?"

"Twelve weeks, two days ago," Fleur said, "In ze clear zone, as zey say."

"We don't know the gender yet," Bill added.

"For your sake I hope it's a girl," Molly sighed, "It took me six tries."

"We will be happy eizer way," Fleur said simply.

You couldn't help but get the sense there was some level of tension between her and Molly, so you leaned over to George as everyone began chatting again, congratulating the expecting couple.

"Do your mum and Fleur get along?" you whispered.

"Well, yes, but they haven't always," he whispered back, "My mum thought she was vain at first, even thinking that she would call off the wedding when Bill got that scar." He was referring to the large mark on his eldest brother's face.

You hummed.

"They've mostly resolved their problems now, but I think there will always be a bit of tension."

After dinner, you wandered around the home, observing all the moving pictures of the family.

"Aw, you were so cute back then," you said to George, looking at a photo of him as a toddler on a mini broomstick.

"Are you saying I'm not anymore?"

You shrugged.

"And how do you know that's me and not Fred?"

"You may be a twin, but there's only one of you, George," you said in passing, not realising how much those words meant to your husband. As much as he loved being an identical twin, there were times where he didn't want to be seen as part of a package deal. Even his mother struggled to tell him and Fred apart before his ear injury, but you- you could recognise him instantly.

Your gaze moved up the wall.

"That's an interesting clock."

It didn't tell the time, but instead had a hand for all of Molly and Arthur's brood, all currently pointing in the direction of 'home' apart from who must be Charlie, which pointed at work.

"Even on Sundays, he works," George sighed, "You know, there was a time where me and Fred had the same hand."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but after he moved in with Angelina, mum had it altered."

Your eyes flicked over the 'mortal peril' section of the clock, and you didn't realise you had read it aloud til he responded.

"Thankfully that hasn't served a purpose since the war."

It was unbelievable to you that such a life-changing war had happened while you remained completely oblivious.

"I suppose we'll have to expand the guest list for our wedding," Angelina approached you, making you turn away from the clock.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," you said.

"No, no. An extra person is hardly anything," she smiled, "You're family, of course you're coming."

Family.

"Well, thank you."

"Of course."

***

As you and George said your goodbyes and departed, you couldn't help but let out an elated sigh, "Your family is so warm."

He smiled, "I'm glad you like them."

"They're like, everything I want my in-laws to be."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Loud, happy, there for each other - with the slightest hint of drama, of course. They're perfect."

"We've been through a lot together."

"Yeah, I expect so."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, one that had you feeling content with your life in the most heart-warming way.

"You ready to apparate again?" George broke the silence when you reached the end of the path.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you grasped his arm tightly, prepping yourself for what was to come.

You didn't fall to the ground this time when you appeared outside your house, but you did still feel nauseous for a few moments.

"I'm really glad you came," George said.

"I'm glad too," you smiled.

And then there was silence - tension-filled silence. The kind of silence that led up to what you had secretly hoped would happen this entire time.

His lips on yours.

You moved your hands up to his hair as the kiss got more heated, flashes of memories dancing through your brain.

You met at the bar your cousin's bachelorette party was at, and began chatting. He was charming, and funny, and you were both really drunk. You went on a walk together - you walked past a chapel.

You had suggested getting married - jokingly, but he had then said.

"Why don't we?"

And so you did, giggling and laughing the entire time, even when you kissed. The kiss held the same magical feeling as it did now, that's what had triggered the memory.

He had kissed all along your jaw and neck as you both filled out the forms, and it wasn't long before you both booked a hotel and by all technical terms, consummated.

"I remember," you parted from him breathlessly, only to kiss him again.

"Me too," he mumbled, pushing you back against your front door.

"Do you want to come in?" you asked.

***

This time, you were the one to wake up alone in bed, but that wasn't the only difference. You remembered every single moment and sensation from the night before - and from your wedding night, for that matter. A smile almost crept on to your face, but it dropped when the panic set in that George had upped and left like you had before. You scrambled out of bed, pulling a shirt and some pants on, and then rushed down the stairs to see if he was anywhere in your house.

And he was.

There your husband was, in the kitchen, cooking a full English breakfast - using magic, of course. You had electric appliances installed when you moved in, since most magic homes didn't generally possess them, but with George there, you supposed they weren't really necessary.

"Hey, love."

Love. That's what he had called you all of last night and your wedding night.

It made heat travel to your ears.

"Hi," you replied shyly.

"Take a seat, I'm almost finished."

You obeyed, deciding to let the wizard take care of you, even though he really had done too much for you ever since you met him - the second time, that was.

Your dining table was a temporary one, as your entire home was still a work in progress: it wasn't easy decorating an entire house by yourself, especially without the assistance of magic. Nevertheless, it did the job. George came over with the food and sat opposite you, gesturing for you to dig in.

"Thank you," you smiled, picking up the cutlery.

"I told you, anything for you."

"You're too perfect," you mumbled, making George chuckle.

"My ear may be injured, but my hearing's fine."

You looked up at him to make eye contact, feeling like he could read you with his gaze, "Your ear makes you even more perfect."

"I'm glad you think so, would be a bit upsetting for me if you didn't."

"I aim to please," you grinned.

***

"You didn't tell me the wedding would be quite so soon," you huffed, straightening out the pastel pink dress you adorned in the mirror.

George shrugged, tightening his tie, "Didn't think about it."

You were, of course, in reference to Angelina and Fred's wedding, merely two weeks after the dinner in which you met the former. Out of all the moving boxes you still had left to unpack, you had been forced to dig for a suitable outfit that fitted the colour scheme.

Aside from work, you and George had been practically glued at the hip in the days since he first stayed at yours - and he had been consistently staying at yours ever since. He had probably spent about three nights total at his own flat in that time span. So much to the point that when he came over the day prior, he had brought his suit for the wedding with him, fully anticipating that he would be spending the night.

You hadn't put a label on what you currently were, other than legally married, as it was.

"We have to be early," he said, "Since I'm the best man."

"I'm aware," you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed to pull your shoes on, "I'm pretty much ready."

"Alright, let's go."

***

The ceremony was a beautiful occasion: held at the Weasley house, The Burrow. The entire garden was decorated beautifully in shades of pink, purple and white, with bouquets of flowers adorning every table and chair. Obviously, a drastic difference from your own wedding.

You were sat in the crowd while George was up near the altar with the maid of honour, but he was not your focus. Angelina was a transcendent bride.

When it came to the meal, you were - to your shock - sat on the primary table where the newly weds were. You supposed that it made sense, since George was obviously going to be sat by his twin brother, and you were his wife. Generally, married couples weren't separated at events. You were certainly relieved, since you hardly knew anybody else.

The only other people on the main table were Molly, Arthur, Angelina's parents, and Angelina's maid of honour and her partner. There was a second table for the rest of the Weasley siblings and their partners, and so on and so forth for more distant relatives and friends.

Once the toasts were made, the meal commenced, and you hadn't realised how hungry you were 'til that moment.

"Slow down, love," your husband commented, "I'd prefer if you didn't choke."

You shrugged, your mouth full. Once you had eventually swallowed, you said, "Much grander event than our wedding."

"We could always renew our vows," he said, and even though he had made many comments about wanting to do anything for you, and had done many intimate things to you in the bedroom (and elsewhere in your house, for that matter), it felt like the first real confirmation that you were in a relationship. Even more, that you weren't just in a marriage out of convenience, but instead because you simply wanted to be.

You parted your mouth to reply, when some children from Angelina's side began causing chaos by running around. "Lord, our kids better behave," you muttered.

George turned to look at you, and it was then that you became aware of what you had said.

"Our kids?" he was grinning.

"Shut up," you mumbled.

"Never - just let me know when you want to start, love," he winked at you.

"A bit too soon, I think."

He shrugged, "We got married within a few hours of knowing each other."

"We were drunk."

"We can get drunk again."

You sighed, "We don't even live together."

"I can move in."

You didn't have anymore rebuttals.

"Are you out of arguments now?" he asked.

You reluctantly nodded.

"Perfect."

***

Instead of apparating directly to your house, you and George decided to take a late night walk around Godric's Hollow. It was such a pretty village, and you had yet to appreciate its beauty in the dark, with all the magical lamps glowing around you. But, you knew that you and George needed to have a conversation, especially after the kids talk from earlier.

"Are we together?" you asked him, even though your interlocked hands should have answered the question.

"We're married, love."

"Yes, but are we together?"

"I'd like to think we are - do you?"

You remained silent for a few moments, before nodding and looking at him in the darkness of the night.

"Then there you have it."

"I just don't get why."

"Why what?"

"Why you've done so much for me when you hardly knew me."

George chuckled, "I admit, I don't know exactly when I made the decision to do anything for you, but when you strutted into my shop, determined as ever, and announced that you were my wife, I just-" he paused, squeezing your hand, "You looked so cute and I knew- in that moment- that I would never meet someone else like you."

You felt like you were melting on the spot.

"It may have seemed selfless that I helped you get the house - but, to be honest, it was the perfect excuse for me to trap you to me- make it easier for me to pursue you, that is."

"I love you, George," you sighed.

"I'm glad, because I've loved you for quite some time now."

"Love at first sight?"

"You would be so lucky."

You let out a childish giggle at that.

"But, yes, I think it was."

——————————————————

masterlist

written; 18/08/2023 —> 03/09/2023 published;04/09/2023 edited; —/—/——

666 notes · View notes

kikiyoomis · 4 months

Note

hehe sorry for the sudden request but I've been really keeping this on my mind for so SO long and like can u pretty please make a fanfic with tsukishima or with any hq character u want with the trope "someone who believes they're hard to love" while the other person "loves them like its breathing" wuhsuehshhehe u get it rigghtt??!!!

tsukishima kei - "i'm hard to love" "loving you is like it's breathing"

you think it's all too good to be true. the way you're casually sitting across your boyfriend who used to be your long time crush since high school on a random tuesday just to have lunch together. the way you're still surprised about the fact that he reciprocated your feelings has your heart fluttering every time you thought about the day you two got together.

but sometimes you think you go overboard with your love. maybe it's because you have loved tsukishima for such a long time that you're just so excited to know that he loves you too. you want to be with him every second of the day, talk to him about everything on you mind and so much more. sometimes at the end of the day, after tsukishima walks you home, you think about whether or not you're too demanding from the relationship.

you want him to love you as easy as it was for you to love him but you can't help but worry about it. this was your first ever serious relationship and you don't want it to end up in flames.

tsukishima doesn't do anything outside of what he needs to do and what he's interested in. but what if your love was too much and he is no longer interested. what if you were too hard to love so he just decides enough is enough one day. you know he won't have any issues with breaking up with you if he can't do it anymore.

and that's what scares you the most.

you look down at the ramen you had ordered for lunch and noticed some extra pieces of meat that you know you didn't order in your bowl. glancing over at tsukishima's bowl you noticed that despite ordering the same ramen, you had twice as much meat and tsukishima has a lack of meat in his bowl.

"did you... give me the meat from your bowl?" you ask cautiously.

tsukishima takes a bite out of his ramen and wipes his mouth before speaking.

"you need the protein more than i do," he says casually, as if it wasn't anything he really thought too much of.

"but you're the athlete... here take my bowl i'll eat yours instead," you say pushing your bowl towards him. tsukishima looks at you almost incredulously.

"but i have my other means of getting protein. you haven't been eating well lately so you should eat it instead."

"you... noticed it?" although it wasn't deliberate, you have been skipping your meals in order to meet your deadlines. but it wasn't anything serious, you just stopped eating lunch nowadays and you've lost your appetite recently so you don't eat much anymore for dinner. just a filling breakfast works well for you.

"how could i not notice? i notice every little thing about you," tsukishima says with a soft smile.

"but..." you want to rebut him but nothing comes to mind.

"but what? it's the something i should do as your boyfriend."

oh, it's something he believes he should do as your boyfriend. maybe you were wearing him out too much...

"y/n, why do you look so sad? is there something bothering you?" tsukishima asks worriedly.

"i'm sorry, i'll take care of myself better so that it won't be a bother to you"

"bother to me? why would it be a bother to me? i just want you to be healthy."

"but it's making more work for you. i know my love is already overbearing so please don-"

"overbearing? who said that?" tsukishima's face grows with concern.

"no one! i just thought that i might be making extra work for you and i know you're already really busy so i don't want to be giving you a hard time on top of that!"

"you're my s/o though, how would this be extra work for me?"

"because i think sometimes i just ask too much of you"

tsukishima has an upset look on his face. you know this is it. the final push. maybe you shouldn't have said anything in the first place. maybe asking him out was already asking for too much.

you stare into your ramen, afraid that you really did mess it all up. there's an awkward silence between you and tsukishima. but while it was quiet between you, there was so much running through your head.

"i had a feeling you thought like that," tsukishima finally says. you feel your heart clench and everything hurts. you don't want to hear the rest of it, not when the best part of your life is coming to a close.

"but i didn't agree to your confession just because. i know i don't show it but i really do love you. i love you so much that i think that what i do for you isn't enough. you make it so easy for me to love you that i think it's easier than breathing."

you look up at him and tsukishima has the softest smile and the gentlest expression you have ever seen on him. he looks like someone who is completely and utterly head over heels in love. it's the first time you've seen him look like this. and to see that he's looking at you...

"but kei, i know i'm hard to love," you mumble.

"says who? who's opinion matters here more than mine?"

you chuckle a little to yourself, happy for his reassurance.

the two of you finish your meal and tsukishima pulls out his wallet to pay. on the way back home, you walk quietly beside him. the silence was comfortable. to be honest, you couldn't stop thinking about what he said earlier at lunch. you can feel yourself getting a little giddy as if you were still crushing on him.

just as you thought about it, a hand makes its way across your back and holding your waist.

"what are you thinking so happily about? it better not be another man," tsukishima says teasingly as he leans over to you so that his head rests on top of yours.

"thank you kei," you smile, leaning into his touch in response.

"i mean it you know. that i love you like it's easier than breathing," a tinge of red spreads across his cheeks and the tips of his ears. pressing a kiss to your forehead, his hand returns back to his side before quickly grabbing a hold of your hand.

#haikyu #haikyuu #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #gn reader #light angst #sorry if tsuki is ooc ueueue #tsukishima fluff

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flowerandblood · 2 months

Text

ONE YEAR OF FLOWER&BLOOD

✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙✨🎉🌙

Exactly one year ago I posted my first chapter of the My Best Friend series. Nowadays I think it's something awful and I don't even try to edit it because I'd have to write everything from scratch, but I've left it for people who feel attached to the story. I remember getting about six likes and one comment on the first day and that huuuuge interest made me eager to create chapter 2 and then all the others.

I remember the excitement with which I waited and then replied to comments, not believing that people were actually waiting for the next chapter. At the time I was literally not following anyone, which was good because I wasn't comparing myself to anyone.

Eventually I felt I was ready to try writing other series and a few were successful enough that I decided to stay here permanently and create because it made me happy. Up to that point, everyone had been very kind to me and I started following more and more blogs, wanting to feel part of the fandom, to make friends with everyone. Now I know that was the biggest mistake I made.

Seeing things that didn't interest me, fanfic's whose way of writing couldn't draw me in, I felt frustrated, while at the same time fearing that if I stopped following someone, that person would see it as an affront. At the same time, The Impossible Choice, my biggest project until The Fall from the Heavens (which I'm currently editing and re-editing, while inserting on AO3), began to be written.

Just when I thought I had reached the pinnacle of my abilities (which wasn't true), I also started to clash with anonymous hate messages, probably the worst of which were those vilifying me and my husband, and those regarding my one-shot with Micheal Gavey. I know now that taking it personally and getting involved was my big mistake, and the fandom was shaken by drama that got out of hand.

I was a few steps away from deleting my blog at the time, but my husband talked me out of the idea (thankfully, as my stories aren't saved anywhere else − I'm only now moving them to AO3).

That's when I first realised that some people here I don't even like, and they probably don't like me. I wondered, why are we following each other then? Why are we pretending to have any courtesy? It was only later that I realised that to be considered someone's friend, you have to reblog their work and preferably agree with them even when they write hurtful things.

Since I've depleted my circle of those I follow to about 20 people, since I've blocked dozens of people and tags, there's been blissful silence (with the exceptions of when I write about behaviour in the fandom that I find toxic and someone accuses me of causing drama, but I'm used to it now). I've also never written happier than I do now.

Ideas come to me on their own, I don't feel uptight about what other big people will think of me, whether they reblog it, approve of it or not. I don't give a shit and life is beautiful! Although I can be emotionally unstable, I'm only 70 people short of crossing the next milestone of 3,000 followers, and that's BIG for me. It amuses me that I keep getting messages that someone is going to block me or stop following me, and you guys keep coming. It's gratifying.

I'm going to keep writing for you guys, and I'm sure during season two you'll also see my posts describing my impressions after the episodes in which I hope to involve my husband. I'll also keep you updated here on how I'm doing with my book I'm creating in my private life.

Apreciation

@ewanmitchellcrumbs

Ange. I know that sometimes I'm fucked up, but I want you to know that you've made this place so much more bearable for me that I can't imagine it without you. What I appreciate most about you is that you can talk and discuss, that you always try to understand the other side, that you are empathetic, warm and kind. I feel that, like friends in everyday life, we can also tell each other about things we disagree about, and there are not many people like that here.

On top of that, you are very talented and your stories are always a pleasure to read, even when they are short, you are able to build the plot and atmosphere perfectly, something I have always admired. Thank you for every kind word and understanding.

I still remember your first message to me via ask, referring to the fact that I didn't want to write a pairing with a mermaid because someone else was writing about it at the same time. My heart melted then, it was so nice!

@targaryenrealnessdarling

Liz, Queen of Angst! Your calmness and composure puts me in awe. You're disgustingly talented when it comes to writing and you have a super-sweet personality. When you started following me I began to squirm with delight, and when you started reblogging my stuff? My goodness!!!

@persephonerinyes

You've been engaging and reblogging my stories for as long as I can remember. Always involved, your thoughts make me smile. Thank you for being with me for so long!

@zenka96

You've been here with me since the dawn of time. You know that I love you. Your support from the very beginning really makes me feel like I have a friend here.

@huramuna

I am so proud of you! I remember your asks when I wrote Glass Cuts Deepest, your illustrations for me and your uncertainty about whether you should start writing yourself. I'm so happy for you and that you are so successful! You deserved it.

@black-dread & @aegonx

You are my favourite gif makers. Your work always leaves me in awe, you are amazing! I know how much work you put into it and somehow you make even the worst lit scenes look wonderful!

@summerposie; @0eessirk8; @melsunshine; @immyowndefender; @bellaisasleep; @kckt88; @thedamewithabook; @happinessinthebeing; @queenofshinigamis; @travelingmypassion; @mefools; @fan-goddess; @toodlesxcuddles; @ammo23; @troublesomesnitch; @mariahossain; @out-of-life; @apothe-roses; @heavenhatesme; @whitearemydarkestnight; @liv-cole; @blackswxnn; @echos-muses; @watercolorskyy; @at-a-rax-ia; @tssf-imagines; @snh96; @hiatuswhore; @exitpursuedbyavulcan; @darylandbethfanforever9; @the-dendrophile-bookdragon; @opheliaas-stuff @zaldritzosrose

Your comments and reblogs make me want to keep writing. You make me laugh, you comfort me and you support me. I know I'm definitely forgetting someone, but I want you to know that I love everyone who comments on my stories and there is nothing better for me than responding to your reactions and questions! I have known some of you for so many months that I truly consider you my good friends!

lottie-blue-star; aveatquevale-; aemondtargaryenwifey marvelescvpe; alphard-hydraes-blog; herejusttostan; li0nn3stuff; alexandrawho; vilmakamunen; angelinap09; theloveablestargirl; rose-blue-19; xxxkat3xxx; flosaureum; mandiiblanche; librawh0re; jasminecosmic99; ivvypg; rojocarnation; killmanduh; tokkiiidoll; wolfdressedinlace; angelofvivianne; nina2697; starwarsgirlsimmer1; katsucker; ipostwhtifeel; aemondsdelight; ilswemoon; tigrigri; pasta-rask; roselibrary; lystargs; gemini-mama; nikstrange; tempo-rary-fix; coffeeobsessedtrencher; gwuinivyre; dreamerbythewayx; diiickbrainn; mothmankit

And everyone else I missed and whose icons I would recognize from afar. I know that you have been with me for many months, often in silence or communicating anonymously. Your silent support and presence is something wonderful for me, knowing that you have been with me for so long and read all my posts!

Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!

#one year anniversary #celebration

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gatitties · 11 months

Text

More distractions

—Whitebeard Pirates x reader

—Summary: you are easily distracted by cute things

—Warnings: none

This was part of this request by @alicedash2 🫶🏻

(Strawhats, Heart Pirates & Kid Pirates ver.)

You ran through the small village where you had embarked a few hours ago, your breathing heavy and your heart pounding for lack of time.

Whitebeard had warned the entire crew that you would only be here for a couple of hours to replenish supplies, and yet you found yourself too captivated by some stray cats that you took it upon yourself to feed with the gold you stole from local thugs.

You were running late, and it wouldn't be the first time you stayed on an island alone because all the things that were adorable in your eyes managed to cloud your thoughts. You didn't want Marco or Ace to have to look for you again because you made a promise not to be late again, you'd embarrass yourself.

"It seems that you arrive just in time, another minute and you would have stayed on the island."

Izo smiled at you when you got on board, you wiped the sweat from your forehead, taking the opportunity to rest for a few minutes while you watched the rest move the sails and shout orders to disembark.

"I trusted you, I knew you would arrive on time, Thatch, you owe me an extra plate tonight!"

"Whatever..."

You raised an eyebrow at Ace and Thatch's conversation, making bets on whether you'd be there on time, you'd have time to prank them so they wouldn't bet on you.

"It's not good to take your body to extreme exhaustion without prior training-yoi"

"It's not like I do it every day anyway."

Marco helped you stand up once you relaxed, he frowned slightly as he saw how you brought your hands to your stomach.

"No, but I have a feeling that you will do it more times-yoi, does your stomach hurt?"

Your body tensed immediately, you turned your back to the doctor carefully holding the small bundle under your clothes.

"N-no, I was just hugging myself."

"Sure..."

You sighed in relief, although your peace of mind was ephemeral, Marco grabbed your arm causing all your balance to disappear, the small bundle was too heavy in your other hand to be able to hold it, causing it to fall to the ground.

"I should have guessed."

"Don't tell dad, I promised him I wouldn't bring any more cats on the ship! But it was impossible to resist this cutie..."

You grabbed the cat you were hiding before, holding it against your chest while you caressed its head, Marco sighed, he wasn't the one who decided here, but he wasn't going to say anything either, a cute kitten doesn't hurt anyone anyway.

"I won't say anything but I think it's better that you talk it over with dad, I'm sure he'll let you have it anyway."

"Alright! But if not, you will accompany me to feed at least a hundred stray kittens."

"Oka- wait what?"

"Oh, you can't break a promise!"

"You're not one to talk about that!"

The blond's words hung in the air, you turned a deaf ear, hopping towards Whitebeard's resting place hoping to have a new little member on board.

#op #one piece #request #whitebeards #whitebeard pirates #whitebear pirates x reader #reader insert #xreader #sfw #one piece x reader #scenarios #one piece scenario

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jellieland · 1 year

Text

One hour and thirty-seven minutes.

That's ages, isn't it? Or is it no time at all?

---

For the first seven minutes, he paces in uneven circles around spawn.

"Happy with that, are ya?" He yells at the sky, laughing. "I know I am! How's that for a show, eh?"

He stalks around, eyes burning red, as though he is hunting someone. He is not quite sure who, and he doesn't have the presence of mind to question it right now, because all he knows in this moment is that he needs to keep going and he needs to keep his sword in his hand.

It takes him a while to realize his hands are shaking.

That'd be the adrenaline, supplies a vague thought in the back of his mind.

He goes past the lava he placed that killed Scott, and pauses for a moment, and pulls out his empty bucket.

He holds it. He looks into it, as though he can fill it back up just by looking.

His hands are still shaking.

He drops it, and it burns into nothing, and then he keeps pacing until he looks down and realizes that he has tracked Impulse's blood across the grass and the stone, and then he stumbles, and then he stops.

---

He stares out across the forest for just under twenty minutes.

Blood drips slowly down his sword. The puddle of red at his feet grows. At least, he thinks it does.

He doesn't move.

There's no point.

---

For the next eight minutes, noise buzzes in his ears. Familiar whispers and disapproval and judgement that fracture the air around them.

He ignores it, for a while.

You can't ignore them forever, though. Or, at least- he's never been able to.

Eventually it's always too much.

It's one particular comment that's the final straw.

"Are you stupid? Of course I cared!" He snaps suddenly, face twisting into resentment as he jerks back to movement. "But it was Mean Gills! Mean! The clue was in the name, in case you didn't notice that little tidbit!"

Another deep murmur.

"Yes, I know I came up with the name. But he agreed to it, didn't he? He knew what he was getting into!" And he keeps talking, voice suddenly light, refusing to entertain a response. "Although speaking of, the TIE lot seemed to like the idea of TIME and SMITE, huh?"

He snorts.

"You know, I think that's probably my main takeaway from this one- turns out you can get past a surprising amount of bad blood if you just offer up a catchy team name! Who would've thought?"

Reality shivers once more.

"Yeah, no, of course it was! I don't think there was really anything else important that happened this time. Team names were definitely the main thing I had to worry about. Why, did you notice something I missed?"

The world shatters, a little bit.

He winces slightly but recovers quickly, putting his easy, practiced grin back on. "Well thank you, thank you." He makes a show of looking around, then catches the blood on the floor in the corner of his eye, and turns back abruptly to stare over the forest. "I'm glad someone congratulated me, at least. Everyone else seems to have found better things to do, am I right?"

He sighs and shakes his head, jokingly exasperated. "This is just like my birthday party."

The air hums, once more.

Again, his expression falters for a moment. "Right." He says. "Well, it's about time, to be honest. Can't imagine pestering me is very interesting anymore." He shrugs. "And hey, wouldn't mind five minutes peace on my end either."

They have stopped talking.

---

He does not.

He doesn't stop talking for the next minute and a half.

"Hey, It'll be just like the old times back in double life! You, silently observing me because you don't want to talk to me this time for some reason, me, lying in a broken heart, kind of glad that I don't have to decide whether to be grateful that someone wants to talk to me even when it's you..."

He trails off.

"Even- even when it's you."

He makes an aborted movement to take a step, then stops.

"Winner." He shakes his head in a kind of amused condescension. "You'd think that out of everyone, they would know I'm not the winner."

He frowns. "Don't know why we even still call it that. Unless... no. There's no way."

He looks up at the sky. "You know I'm not the winner, right? There was never going to be a winner." He holds out his arms as if to make himself a target, and laughs, long and loud. "What, you're not seriously telling me none of you noticed?"

He steps back, craning his neck further. The brightness of the sun makes his head pound, makes his eyes burn.

"There is no winner. What there is, is the last one to lose. And hey, HERE I AM!" He spins around, grinning up at the sky. And if that grin is still a little manic... well. Who's going to say anything about it now? "ISN'T IT GREAT?"

And then he stumbles, dizzy, and falls, narrowly missing the lava, and there is blood on his hands there is blood on his hands it's still red it's only been thirty-six minutes.

"Isn't it great." He- it isn't a whimper. It's just- quiet.

He stares down at the ground.

"This is what I wanted." He whispers.

---

He stays there for five minutes.

---

Eventually, he gets up again, because that's that he always does. And for the next thirty-two minutes, he wanders.

"Well. Now what, huh?" He murmurs. "The eternal question. Guess I'm lucky not to have to worry about it for too much longer, this time."

He leaves his sword on the ground where he fell, and he walks away.

He doesn't wipe the blood off his hands. It feels... well. He just doesn't want to. That's all. He'll be dead soon enough anyway.

At first he heads towards the Mean Gills base. In fact, he gets all the way to the shoreline before he stops.

He doesn't want to go in the water.

What does he think he's looking for there, anyway? Everything he would have been hoping to find is gone.

The TIES tower is right there, and he wanders vaguely towards it, but - well. That's just a non-starter. He doesn't care about TIES, and he never did, and they should've known that. They should've all known that, and it's not his fault that Impulse- or, uh, Etho, or Tango- didn't. It's not his fault. It's not.

He doesn't care about them anyway, so either way it doesn't matter.

Anyway, they betrayed Scott, and if Martyn has stood for anything this time, it's that anyone who betrays Scott is going to live - or die! - to regret it. Die, if he has anything to say about it.

"No-one gets off Scott-free." He says out loud, and snorts. "Ok, that's not a bad one, but it sounds way more like an innuendo than I meant it to."

A beat passes.

"Pretty sure Scott would be fine with that, though."

...Scott would be fine with this. Right?

Scott would be fine with this. He would. He would. Martyn knows he would, has proof in the form of a memory of driving a sword through his ally's chest just over there, look, he can see where it happened, it was honestly in a pretty unremarkable spot, but he knows exactly where it is, he remembers it perfectly-

Martyn knows he would, and he also knows that it doesn't matter at all, because even if Scott had not been fine with it, he still would've done it.

Next, he heads towards the mansion.

He stands at the bottom. There's a lot of water here, too.

It felt good to kill people. It always did. Almost always, anyway. He's pretty sure they all agreed on that.

There's really something satisfying about ripping things apart. It makes those last thirty minutes taste that little bit sweeter.

(he kind of gets it, is the thing. how good it feels to drink in someone else's pain and panic, to pour it back into your own glass of pain and panic, filling it back up at least a little. that's not something he's saying even to himself, though.)

Maybe it's something about feeling like you're breaking things without actually damaging anything that wasn't put there to be damaged.

Without actually saying no, and letting someone else take from your cup when it's already empty, and has been for a while, now.

But there's nothing to rip apart, anymore, except himself.

He wonders if this is how Joel felt, when Jimmy died.

...Nah. Probably not.

He wanders through the forest for a while, at that point.

He considers, briefly, heading back to his original hourglass. That's already pretty much destroyed, though, and there's nothing there for him anyway.

He could head out past the mansion, into what is essentially wilderness.

That feels a bit too much like a fresh start for his taste, though. Nothing about this is a start. No point in pretending on that front.

He doesn't even entertain the idea of the Nosy Neighbours' tower. He tries not to look towards it.

Eventually, really, it seems obvious.

He ends up on the ground, outside the clock tower.

---

He sits there for five minutes, leaning up against the tower, to the right of the crater where Jimmy died.

"You three really committed in the end, didn't you?" He says. "Colour me surprised, honestly. That's one lack of a betrayal nobody saw coming at the start. Two of the most notoriously untrustworthy people on the server, and Cleo." He laughs. "Pretty sure you'd agree it doesn't really sound like the recipe for a happy family. Just goes to show, I guess."

He pauses.

"...Didn't get you to the end, though. Did it?"

He shifts slightly, frowning, and is quiet for a while.

"You realize you could get so much more done if you just stopped caring, right?" He asks.

"That's what I did." He lies. "It's much easier."

He stares out at the ocean and doesn't look over at spawn on his left.

All at once, he feels the urge to stand up.

He doesn't. Not yet. Maybe not ever again.

"I could jump off this tower, you know." He says. "But Grian already did that one. So I can't."

He shrugs. "I guess he didn't really have the option of just waiting it out, huh? Even if he did, can't really hold it against him. I get it."

He's silent for a while.

"Not much left to see. Is there?"

---

Eventually the ghost of that frantic energy grips him again, and keeps hold of him for slightly less than sixteen minutes. He wants to pace, he wants to stab something, he wants to do anything, anything at all except sit here and feel himself slowly crack open, because if he did that then he wouldn't be able to keep everything from spilling out.

He gets up, and just sort of stands there, whole body tense.

Why did he leave his sword behind? Why did he do that, he could've at least gone looking for some mobs to kill, and then maybe he could've been killing things when he died- that would've been nice, in a sick sort of way, but-

He does still have an axe, though.

He could still do that.

He lurches forward as soon as the decision is made. Before he's even really thought about it, he dives into the river and scrambles out of the other side into the forest. He curls his hands into fists in the mud, so they're still dirty, so nothing has changed really, so it's fine, and after he takes in a couple of breaths that sound desperate - which is because he was just underwater, so he was holding his breath, that's why, that's why - he forces himself to get up, and he staggers into the darkness of the forest and please, he just wants something to hit, come on.

A zombie lurches out from behind a tree and he almost sobs with relief, and he slashes at it with his axe once, twice, three times, and it falls, and he remembers why he usually uses a sword but at least he didn't behead it, he guesses, but it doesn't help, and then a skeleton shoots him in the back, and yeah, ok, that's probably fair at this point, and he fights.

And he keeps fighting.

And it doesn't help.

It doesn't do anything.

It never does anything, and if he had somehow died here, fighting mobs, alone, before anything else had happened, before Scott, before Cleo, before Ren, nothing would really be different.

After a while, he takes a breath and it hitches, and that's when he realizes he's crying.

He growls, and he hurls the axe away, and he runs.

---

He has three minutes left, and he is running through the forest alone, breathing unsteady and frantic, panic crawling up through his lungs.

It reminds him of last life, except this time there aren't any otherworldly voices taunting him. This time there isn't a Ren for him to run towards. This time he didn't even pretend to believe the lie that he might be able to save anyone. That he might be able to save himself.

He doesn't know where he's going.

He doesn't think it matters.

He doesn't think it ever has.

He gets to the edge of the forest, and staggers to a stop.

It's the edge of the ocean.

He can see his hourglass from here.

If he was in the mood for it, he'd probably say that was poetic.

Right now, he can't quite muster any poetry, though.

All he can do is look at it, and think-

This is it.

This is all it is.

This is it forever.

"I wish it wasn't like this." He says, and it's less a wish, really, and more of a reminder.

His countdown ends.

And next time, in one form or another, it will begin again.

#limited life spoilers #limited life smp #martyn inthelittlewood #my writing

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fatuismooches · 7 months

Text

Been thinking about childhood friend Pantalone and reader, but with kind of a twist. You two are of course the greatest of friends, doing everything together as you've been through thick and thin, the (mostly) bad and (minimal) good times together. And your "friendly" activities also include kissing and holding each other as just "friends." Just hear me out. As you grew older and reached adulthood it was no question that you found your childhood friend quite attractive and those feelings of friendship were slowly budding into ones of love, but there was no way you were going to risk years of friendship over your dumb crush. You were content with the way things were now. Until one day changed everything.

It was honestly just a normal day of dealing with shit in order to get by in the world but you just felt so stressed and done with everything and needed to rant to your friend about everything and anything. And you did, and it probably got more heated than usual but oh well. He didn't respond, and you weren't really expecting one, you were just grateful that he was willing to listen to your ramblings. What you weren't expecting, however, was for him to randomly cup your cheek, the intimate touch surprising you greatly. You were about to question him until he kissed you. Your childhood friend was kissing you, on the lips no less.

It took you a good few seconds to comprehend what was happening but slowly you kissed back. Your friend had to be a natural at kissing, because it felt so pleasurable just to have his lips on yours. When you two pulled away, he asked you if you liked it. You did. He asked you if you felt better. You definitely did. He asked if he could do it again. You let him. And thus began the series of shared touches between you two. Whenever either of you were stressed or down, you two would provide physical affection to each other. Whether that was simple or passionate kisses or comforting all over the other's body. All under the label of "friends." Yes, just friends. Neither of you would speak or bring up the topic during these intimate times.

And you? You were greedy. Greedy, greedy, greedy. You decided that even if he didn't like you like that, you were happy to be touched by him and to touch him. At least, that's what you told yourself in the beginning. Yes, it did feel terribly nice, but it was also beginning to hurt you terribly bad as your feelings of love for your friend were skyrocketing at every passing moment, especially when he held you. Eventually, you couldn't take it anymore and you had to confess.

You blurted out his real name, following with an "I lo-" before your friend's hand quickly covered your mouth, preventing you from finishing your sentence.

"Not now, [Name]."

"Huh...? So you know already? About how I..." your voice died down as heat crept up your face. This was so embarrassing.

"Yes, I do. But I cannot respond to your feelings right now." Those words crushed your heart.

"Oh... I understand. So you don't..." Your friend sighed before he stroked your cheek, beckoning you to look at him again.

"I don't mean it like that. I mean I am not worthy enough to accept your love right now."

"Worthy? But you are! You're so kind and smart and sweet and- just all-around great! How can you not be worthy!" Your friend chuckled in response.

"I'm flattered you feel that way. But I'm afraid I'm nowhere as good of a person as you believe. In fact, although I know I can't have you right now, I'm greedy enough to want to have your affection all to myself." You could only murmur his name on your lips.

"So I ask you, please wait for me so I can become the man you deserve. Will you do that for me, [Name]?" Instead of responding, you pulled him in for an emotional kiss that spoke your answer instead.

It would have to do for now.

#smooches talks #pantalone love notes <3 #this was longer than what i meant to write...#ive been neglecting pantalone im so sorry #see u in two years pookie <33 #i need to know his real name so badly bro #pantalone x reader

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 2 months

Note

General l lawiet x reader?

𝕀 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕪 𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕠𝕠𝕟 𝕞𝕒𝕟…

ℂ𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕠 @𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕤-𝕟-𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖! 𝔾𝕠 𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜!!

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕠 𝕞𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘!!

General L Lawliet relationship headcanons

Ok, first off it will take a very very long time before L even considers acknowledging any feelings he may have for you

I'm talking 3+ years

He is very distrusting of people, and wants to know that you won't put him or Watari in any danger

Once he does finally decide he trusts you enough, that's when his emotions begin to shine through

His biggest thing is staring, he will stare for hours on end, processing your behaviors, learning about you, etc

Something about his gaze is different too

His brows furrow in an almost worried way, as if it scares him that he can't logic his way out of his feelings for you

Confession is blunt with him (I hc him to be autistic, so tone isn't really a thing with him)

You'll notice that he hasn't done any work, which is very worrying considering who he is

So you turn your chair to look at him "Hey, are you ok? You seem kind of out of it"

"Yes, I'm just a bit frustrated is all" He says, staring up at the ceiling with his thumb between his lips

"About what?"

He takes a deep breath "Well, whilst getting to know you, I've come to realize that I have romantic feelings for you. This is troubling for me, as I do not have the time for anything as arbitrary as relationships. However, dwelling on these emotions aren't helping either, as it seems to take over my whole head space, making working almost impossible....The best course of action would be to confess my feelings, but problems will arise no matter what your answer to my confession is"

He finishes his rant and looks over at you blankly "Don't look so shocked. I still haven't decided whether I'm going to ask you or not"

You feel your face heat up and you quickly avert your gaze from his "right.."

A few minutes go by before you hear him speak again "Y/n?"

"Yes, Ryuzaki?"

"Will you be my partner?"

Once you are actually in a relationship with him, it takes him a while to get adjusted

He often forgets that he can be lovey dovey with you, or even that he should be

This being said, you'll have to initiate your first kiss

Communication is key with L, and while he is good at picking up on subtle hints, he prefers you to be direct with him

He's also rather shy when it comes to romantic things, so you being direct helps him feel more comfortable consenting

"May I kiss you?" You ask him one night, sitting comfortably on a hotel bed

He looks up from his laptop, placing his thumb on his lip, thinking long and hard about his decision

"Yes" He finally says, getting up and sitting on the bed, awaiting your kiss

The moment your lips touch his, he freaks out a little

It's all so new and overwhelming, but in a good way

He pulls away very fast, making you worry you did something to upset him

That same lovesick gaze creeps back onto his face, before asking for you to do it again

Once he gets used to it, he finds that he actually really likes kisses!

Kisses are one of the few physical things that he is fine doing whenever, wherever

His favorite spots to be kissed are on his forehead and cheeks, and he likes to kiss you on your nose and hands

Other than that, physical touch isn't much of a thing

If you wanted to cuddle, or if you wanted to hold his hand, he'd be up for it

He just won't seek those things out himself

He prefers small physical gestures, because they're easier and less overwhelming for him

He does things such as tug at the bottom of your shirt if he wants you to pay attention to him, lay on your shoulder, and smelling your clothes

Not in a weird perv way (although he very much is one of those

SPEAKING OF HIM BEING A PERV

Jfc someone come get this man

He seldom does anything touchy feely, but good god can this man stare

Stares at your butt as you walk to go get another cup of water, a barely visible grin coming to grace his face

Looking at your chest (doesnt matter if you're amab or afab) if you have a low hanging shirt that day

And when he does get touchy feely, it's in a more studious way if that makes sense

Like rubbing and squeezing your thighs just to see them jiggle, or running his fingers across your skin and smiling when he sees goosebumps show

As mentioned before, he doesn't like cuddling, but he loooves being in your general space

For example, he'll come sit next to you while you work, reading over all of your previously done tasks

Or if you go to brush your teeth, he'll go stand with you and put his face into your neck

When you can't be with him for whatever reason, he isn't above wearing your hoodies

He likes to wear them for the smell for the most part, but he also likes to wrap up in them like a little caterpillar and pretend he's metamorphosizing

His love language vibe is "sleepy"

Do with that what you will

#death note x y/n #death note x you #death note x reader #l death note #death note #l lawliet #l lawliet hcs #l lawliet x reader #l lawilet

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moonxytcn · 10 days

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Hii could you write a gluff/comfort billie x fem reader who is from europe (non english speaking/ dutch speaking but idk if you know dutch so its not that important) and they speak english but have a very obvious accent and is insecure abt it and struggles with pronounciation and like finding the right words and it gets really frustrating for reader? I know this is a very long request and if you don't like write things like this then dont feel bad or anything also i love your writing so much! <3

having an accent sucks

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

Summary – reader is insecure about her accent when speaking English.

warnings – fluffy, more cute content.

word count – 851.

a/n – hello, I hope this is what you wanted when you requested it, thank you very much for that by the way. and this comment about my writing made my heart warm, thank you anon <3

English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

This gif isn't mine, I found it on Google

–––

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft golden glow over the room where you were getting ready with Billie, you felt your anxiety growing with each passing second. In a few minutes, you would be heading out to meet Billie's friends, and it would be the first time you'd meet them. You couldn't help but feel nervous. You and Billie had been together for 5 months, having met her parents in the first 3 months of the relationship.

The reason for your nervousness? Simple, you were Dutch, and despite being in the United States for a while, it seemed like your accent had decided to stick with you, and it was very evident when you spoke. This had become an insecurity of yours since with the added accent, you ended up having difficulties with English pronunciation, stumbling over words and always desperately searching for the right one.

Finishing fixing your hair, all your mind could think about was whether Billie's friends would understand you, and if you would embarrass yourself with your awkward pronunciation. There were so many 'what ifs' running through your mind that you had to stop for a moment and catch your breath. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you began to unconsciously murmur words in English to practice pronunciation and avoid embarrassment, trying to imagine how it would sound to someone who had heard English all their life, fearing the judgment that could come, whether verbal or not.

Billie paused for a moment upon hearing a murmur coming from her girl beside her, glancing briefly at her through the mirror and seeing what she already imagined was happening. She always knew that you struggled a bit more than others to learn and speak English. And although she knew you didn't like how you sounded when you spoke, she always found your escaping accent absolutely adorable. She remembers it was the first thing that caught her attention when she heard you ordering coffee in line, she knows very well that's when she fell in love with you, it might as well be love at first sight, if you believe in that.

"Babe." Billie called softly, wrapping her arms around you from behind, looking at you through the mirror.

"Yes?" You answered softly, knowing you were caught and already knowing she knows what you were doing.

"You know you don't need to worry, right? They're my friends, they would never make fun of you if they know what's best for them. And even if they did, I'd be by your side and protect you. Always." She says, looking into your eyes with those beautiful ocean blue eyes.

"I know, I just— you know how diff-diff neuken!" You speak, already getting frustrated because you can't pronounce it right again. (neuken - fuck)

"Difficult?" Billie says softly, leaving a light kiss on your neck, you just nod, playing with her fingers that are on your belly. "I know. Believe me. But all I see whenever I hear you speak is how perfect your voice is and your accent just makes you more unique. Love, your accent is the cutest thing ever, I'm serious. Okay?" She says.

You nod, letting a small smile escape. "I think I'm ready to go. Just, promise me you'll stay by my side, always."

"I promise, darling. Always. You don't even need to ask me that." She says turning you and giving you a chaste and soft kiss on your soft lips.

–––

Arriving at the restaurant where Billie arranged to meet her friends, she parks the car and turns to you in the seat and grabs your hand giving it a squeeze to let you know she's here. "Ready?" She asks. You nod and take a deep breath seeing her get out and come to your side to open the door for you. Getting out you go straight into her arms and give her a tight hug, she hugs you with equal force knowing you need it.

"It will be alright, love. I love you." Billie says breaking from the hug and looking into your eyes holding your face with a softness that only she has.

"I love you, so much." You say giving a peck on her lips.

Entering the restaurant you soon find the table where her friends are. Approaching they soon see you. "Hey guys, this is my girlfriend Y/n." She introduces you.

"Hey everyone." You say already noticing your accent is very visible.

–––

Opening the door to the house together with Billie you can't wipe off the huge smile that's plastered on your face. When the door closes you jump into her arms and shower Billie with kisses while the last one becomes a slow and full of love, happiness and affection.

"I'm so happy! I didn't mess up any words today, did you see?" You say excitedly to her. While she can only look at you with adoration in her eyes, mirroring your smile and watching you ramble on about how good the night was, how much you liked her friends, and how happy you were for not messing up anything today.

"I'm proud of you, love." She says softly to you. Stopping your rambling upon hearing this, you look at her for a moment feeling tears of happiness wanting to spill. Closing the distance between you, you hope she understands everything you want to say to her at this moment.

"I love you Billie. God I love you so much, you're an angel in my life." You say softly against her lips, not wanting to separate yet you just grab her like a koala. And she understanding, takes you to the bedroom where she lies on the bed and hugs you as tightly as she can, whispering praises in your ear and saying how proud she is, and happy for you.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x you #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x y/n #celebrity imagine #wlw #gxg

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the-badger-mole · 10 months

Text

But FWIENDSHIP!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay, so you all know how I get when something gets stuck in my head, but yesterday I saw a post talking about how Katara and Zuko's potential romance messes with their friendship, and I don't understand how, but that's beside the point. This is an anti-Kataang post.

I will once again admit that I don't spend a ton of time in Kataang/anti-Zutara spaces (cause I'm respectful like that), but every so often, I see one of those takes pop up in my safe area (because respect isn't always a two way street, unfortunately). It's interesting to see how many times this take seems to crop up. Katara and Zuko falling in love would ruin their friendship, yet those same people fail to acknowledge that Bryke went ahead and ruined their friendship anyway out of jealousy. These same people also tend to hold Kataang as a prime example of Friends to Lovers, the only problem is, Aang isn't Katara's friend at any point.

Throughout the series, it's made very clear that Aang likes Katara, but for most of the series (until literally the last few seconds, in fact) it's also clear that Katara only sees him as a friend. This should have been an object lesson that sometimes crushes don't work out, but friendship can be stronger than temporarily disappointed feelings. However, that's not what we get. Aang doesn't care about Katara's friendship. He doesn't want Katara in his life unless it's in a romantic capacity. We see it in how he reacts when he feels romantically rejected (lava fissure, EIP). The narrative doesn't give Katara any space to say no to Aang without it permanently damaging their relationship, because they never had the relationship Katara thought they did. Katara thought she was Aang's friend, but for Aang, their 'friendship' was just a precursor to romance. In this, the year 2023, I know we all understand why this is a problem.

Aang can't even conceive of a world where Katara does turn him down. He dreams about her enthusiastic response to his declaration of love; he assumes that since they kissed he kissed her and staked his claim, they should be together, despite there never being any sort of conversation, and the fact that the one time he did try to talk about it, she changed the subject very quickly. Katara's feelings are an afterthought for Aang, which is terrible for any relationship, but particularly in a romantic one. There is never a moment where Aang puts Katara's emotional needs ahead of his own. He never puts a value on her platonic friendship. There's never a moment where he decides that despite his feelings for her, having Katara in his life as a friend is better than not having her at all. That moment should have happened regardless of whether they ended up together or not, because friendship is the most important component of the Friends to Lovers trope.

By comparison, the friendship Katara eventually forms with Zuko is much deeper, and based on a mutual respect, understanding and emotional support for each other. This is a fantastic foundation for a romance, although bafflingly, people who laud Katara and Zuko's deep friendship don't seem to agree. Them potentially falling in love doesn't cheapen their friendship because they actually were friends first. On top of that, their Enemies to Friends journey ending romantically would not only not cheapen their friendship, it would tie into the themes of the show beautifully (the illusion of separation; love being stronger than hate; learning to respect other people's differences etc).

Let's be real, what Kataang actually represents is The Hero Gets the Girl, and I think deep down we all know that, even the ones calling it Friends to Lovers. In the Hero Gets the Girl trope, the Girl in question doesn't really matter. She's less of a romantic partner and more a prize for the Hero saving the day. Her emotional journey to falling for the Hero mostly plays out off screen, even though she may not have even liked the Hero like that initially, and the hero doesn't ever show that he respects her as a person. For the most part it works (arguably) because the Girl isn't a character in her own right, she's just part of the Hero's story. The reason it doesn't work with Kataang is that Katara is a character. She does have her own journey, and as passionate and outspoken as she is in pretty much every other aspect of her life, it doesn't make sense for her journey to falling for Aang takes place largely off screen. Not unless you understand how little Katara's feelings matter to their relationship. Had Katara actually rejected Aang, their friendship would have ended because Aang was never interested in her friendship.

It's interesting to me to see people who claim to value friendship over romance spend more time complaining about a romance that isn't canon over the actual canon ship that really does cheapen the friendship. But then again, I guess that was never the problem in the first place.

#atla #anti aang #anti kataang #zutara #enemies-FRIENDS-lovers #that would have been worlds better than the Hero Gets the Girl ship masquerading as a friends-lovers romance #if you prefer platonic zutara that's fine #but let's not pretend that the problem is that their potential romance would spoil their friendship #not when you don't speak about how the actual canon ship completely devalued katara's friendship towards aang #be so for real #just say you don't like zutara and keep it pushing #because now the argument just looks hypocritical when you have nothing to say about kataang #the actual canon ship devaluing both friendship and consent #THE YEAR OF CONTENT!!!!

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