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#i mean more like…. you don’t simply accept everything that’s handed to you… even things you don’t like

paimonial-rage · 3 months

Note

wriothesley 3, 16, 17 :3 -- @milkstore

[Character Analysis Ask Meme]

What is Wriothesley’s mbti/enneagram?

Wriothesley is a 9w8 ESTP sp/so.

What is the best way to win Wriothesley’s heart?

Wriothesley is a simple man, and simple men require simple methods. Simply put, the best way to win Wriothesley’s heart is to flirt with him. He doesn’t need much more than that. Challenge him, tease him, take him by surprise. Play hot and cold. Accept his invitations for tea, then spurn his advancements the next. Present yourself as a catch, dance right out of his reach, and let his instincts kick in. But make sure you’re having fun too. It’s not a game if both people aren’t having fun.

What are Wriothesley’s strengths in a relationship?

Of the many traits Wriothesley was blessed with, two that stand out are his level-headedness and his tendency toward action. No matter what you may go through as a couple, he will not be overcome by stress or fear. You can always trust him to be solid no matter the storm. Not to mention you can trust he will not take the backseat in your relationship. If there is anything wrong, he will address it. But more than that, if he sees the chance to make you happy, he will take it, whether it’d be bringing home flowers or taking you on a date to something you want to see. In a relationship, he won’t let you feel alone.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #my writing #character analysis #okay! i admit it! because it was you i let myself get a bit lazy with the writing #it’s not as uwu as it normally is #wriothesley’s ivs were so hard here because you can make an argument for any of the synflow types #he exudes pseudo sx vibes but i’m p sure that’s the case bc he’s the typical leather jacket bad boy types being an estp and 9w8 haha #i will say tho that the winning his heart thing isn’t completely accurate #that’s more how to capture his attention and get him to be interested in you #imo he’s not picky you know?#but if you had to ask i’d say he’s attracted to fighters #not in the super saiyan sense or in the love hate relationship sense p #i mean more like…. you don’t simply accept everything that’s handed to you… even things you don’t like #you have enough self respect to stand up for yourself in the way that you can get him to say #‘oho? i like that look in your eyes’#he’s a fighter so it only makes sense haha #but that’s just my opinion he’s pretty open

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eamour · 2 months

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a manifestation routine.

! long post ahead !

in this post, i want to give you an idea of how a manifestation "routine" could look like. i'm aware that this is one of my longer posts but i wanted to give as many insights and as much reassurance as possible. it’s a guide especially for those, who need a bit guidance, who may have come off track a little and who want to discipline themselves a bit more.

morning and evening.

right before you wake up or fall asleep, lay down on your bed and close your eyes. try to calm your mind, loose any tension built up in your body and take deep breaths in and out. with your eyes closed, pay attention to the darkness you're seeing. everything around you doesn’t exist for now. the outer world is none of your concern. your responsibilities fade away and in this given moment, there is nothing that needs to be worked on, nothing that needs to be fixed, nothing that needs to be dealt with. right now, it’s only you in this darkness. you are safe. you are protected.

now, think about it: what is it that you want? what is it that you wish to experience? this isn’t about what you feel like you should want or what you need to experience but rather what YOU deeply want. what would having / being it feel like? what would it look like? what if you had / were exactly what you wanted?

as you become more and more decisive and definitive about who you want to be and what you want to have, you begin to enter the state of the wish fulfilled. you take a step towards the end. you start to bask yourself in the feeling of being the version of yourself who has or is what you desire to have or be. for this, you can visualise yourself or use affirmations that go hand in hand with your desired outcome.

at the same time, let go of your old conception of self. leave your old mindset. right now, you aren’t who you were before you entered this state of calmness. shift your states. go from your former one to your desired one. give life to your new state and death to your old state. abandon the old story. you don’t need it now. you no longer need to retell it. you don’t need to carry it with you anymore.

don’t focus on details. don’t worry about your scenes of visualisation or wording of affirmations. don’t try to make it perfect. don’t question it. and don’t reason your way into it. try to make it natural. try to make it enjoyable. in imagination, you cannot do anything wrong. feel free to imagine any way you would like to. doing any technique without feeling it to be true and without accepting it won’t do anything. it cannot change you. not the technique itself but the feeling will alter self. your visualisations and affirmations shall only support you by guiding you to your desired state. don’t perform anything in vain. do it with purpose. do it with conviction. do it with acceptance. mere repetitions lead to mere results. if you repeat, then do it with feeling. for feeling is the secret.

this way, you become conscious of your new self. and since consciousness is the one and only reality, things can only appear through consciousness. becoming conscious of having your desire means to feel your desire to be yours. by making consciousness your aim, you are aiming to become conscious of BEING and HAVING your desire.

rest of the day.

after you took time to meditate in the morning, you continue to live with your wish fulfilled during the day. whenever you think of your desire, whenever you start to desire something, you claim it to be yours. you declare that it’s part of your reality now. you simply accept it to be true instead of letting your mind wander, overthink or worry. you don’t leave any space for feelings of desire and refrain from living in desire as well. you don’t have to go into a deep meditative state either. you think of it, recognise your desire, imagine it to be yours, feel it to be yours and then go on with your day. this way, you only aim for your inner fulfillment and get rid of any desire that comes up.

you don’t need to force yourself to think of your desire for a very long time, nor do you need to immediately start affirming or visualising a scene that implies you having your desire. what you do is that you take some time, not a lot, to acknowledge your desire and to shift your state from desiring to owning. you do this for as long as you like, until you have accepted your desire to be yours. you will know when you have shifted your state as you won’t feel feelings of desire anymore. you won’t want it anymore because you know there is nothing left to desire that isn’t already yours.

there's no need to constantly bring you back and to remind yourself of your manifestation. the moment you accept it, you can let it go. it’s done now. it belongs to you. assuming your desire to be yours once you think of it is totally enough. you don’t need to obsess over it either.

the more you do this, the easier it will be for you to remain in your desired state. you will get used to the state because you get used to the feeling. it will start to feel familiar to you. it won’t be as difficult as before. it won’t scare you as it did in the beginning.

once in the state, it will become easier to handle the outer world. your thoughts come from your state aka your feeling and if you happen to be in the state you wanted to occupy, you will respond better to 3D circumstances (if there are any). you'll stop viewing your physical world the way you used to and you'll also stop feeling like it’s a lot of work to be in the state of the wish fulfilled. you'll stop viewing the act of shifting your state as effortless. as normal. as natural. you can happily live in the 3D while still experiencing your manifestation from within, giving your inner self what you want. from now on, you will want to identify with your real self more frequently and anything outside of you will lose importance. you won’t care about how the world may look like, you won’t stress about your physical existence. anything that does not serve you will be of little account.

everyday.

the purpose of this guide is to motivate you to make fulfillment your one and only goal. make it a lovely habit to daily manifest your desires. do it each day.

do not waste time contemplating whether your desires are easy to manifest, quick to manifest, possible to manifest or logical to manifest. stop categorising your manifestations into "big" and "small". do not concern yourself with these matters.

the moment you accept your assumption to be true, it has no option but to materialise. your 3D can never stop reflecting your 4D. you can never run away from your feelings, so why not change them? why not choose lovely feelings for yourself? why not claim great things about yourself? why not immediately grant yourself every wish you have? stop wasting time, conditioning your desires and doubting your abilities as creator of your reality.

within imagination, all things exist and all things are possible. you can be or have anything you'd like in your imagination. it doesn’t have to be hard to get. you don’t need to earn your way to happiness. and you don’t need to work hard for it either. so why would you deny yourself that experience? why would you actively choose not to fulfill yourself? why would you not manifest your desires?

make your imagination a place you love spending time in. make yourself feel feelings of wealth, love, success, health and more. make it so amazing, so addicting that you cannot be bothered or moved by the limitations of the outside world. quoting aphrodite apprentice: "see your desires as invitations to experience something new within yourself and fulfill yourself. and then walk in that fulfillment. just live your entire life in fulfillment."

with love, ella.

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luffyvace · 20 days

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Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons

These are sfw and gender neutral

for Sanji’s big day! (I’m super late ik hush :3)

pt2 here my sillies :3 : Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons pt2

Dating Sanji includes royal treatment. We all know this. It’s so obvious. 😭 It’s in the manga, it’s canon, we all write it in our headcanons. We know this.

Royal treatment meaning sit back and relax dear, Sanji’s got this. Sea beast? He beat it up and is now cooking a delicious and nutritious sea beast stew for you, would you like that with a smoothie? Lemonade? Water? Ok water. Sparkling? Distilled? Iced?

oh your lost? Don’t worry he’s got bread and he’ll leave breadcrumbs where you’ve walked so you don’t go in circles :)

your clothes are wet? Take his. 💋

there’s mud up ahead and you just bought a snazzy new fit? He’ll carry you 🏋️‍♂️

somebody bothering you loveliest? He’s already kicked them to Australia (extra hard if it was Zoro)

Dating Sanji includes good communication.

If you feel anything but a positive emotion Sanji is on the case. And the first victim he’s pointing fingers at is Zoro 😼

”MOSS HEAD BASTARD!! YOU MADE THEM UPSET DIDNT YOU?!”

it’s not a person darling? Well what happened? What can he do to help? Did you loose something? He’ll turn into a mad man causing chaos around town looking for it! Did it drop into the ocean? He swims as deep as he needs to in order to find it.

Honestly he even babies you about little stuff :P you stubbed your toe? Want him to massage it for you? That’s it! He’s breaking out the foot spa! Take off your socks and shoes!

he did something that really upset you?! Tell him what it is right away! He’ll make sure he never steps outta line ever again! He *kiss* never *kiss* meant *kiss* to *kiss* upset *kiss* you *kiss*~

Never feel hesitation to tell him if something’s wrong with you physically “Chopper! Come check them out right now!! They say somethings’ wrong!”

Nor mentally! You’ve been going through some tough times these last few months?! Sit down and tell him everything!! Let’s get to the root of this! Together! Is it someone else?? Did it happen from something??

Even if you aren’t feeling negative emotions right now always feel free to rant to him about what’s making you happy! he’d love to hear it truly! He loves your voice even more~ 🥰 *nose bleed*

Dating Sanji includes 5 star meals.

another thing we all know. And in every headcanon- but seriously what’s all your favorite meals, snacks and desserts? Even if Luffy himself says to make one thing he might make another just because he knows you like it. That guy eats anything anyway so he might as well just make what you like! 🧑‍🍳

Dating Sanji includes overly cheesy confessions despite the fact that your already and only dating.

”My dearest..I would love if you would go out with me and make this evening the loveliest of my days! I’d wholeheartedly accept and put my all into cooking for our first date….My love and affection with herb and spice…the flavor of our intense compatibility will melt on your tongue every bite you take! Guaranteed!”

”Sanji….we’ve been dating for xyz months/years now..”

”ahhh~ Even to the blossoms of this beautiful spring day know we’re simply destined to be..! Getting married tomorrow..it’s been my dream since we’ve first met! I can see it already, smell it even..! The enchanting scene of you walking down the isle, putting your hands in mine…kiss! The happiest day of my life has officially been sealed! Everyone’s clapping! Cheering! Whoop woo’s arise in the air of our love!~ The 6 layer cake I spent every ounce of my time baking since I met you, on the side of us—predicting our perfect wedding kiss! An exact model of the scene~ It brings a tear to my eye! I hope I don’t keep you up tonight, my darling love! Because I certainly won’t be able to sleep when I’m much too busy imagining the scene over and over again until our big day tomorrow, the same one I’ve been replaying in my head since I first laid eyes on you~ 😚”

”what on EARTH Sanji. We’re only dating! Wha- What do I even say to this?!”

”you could say yes! My lovely future spouse!~ 😍😍”

”To what! You haven’t even properly proposed to me yet?! Let alone made it official⁉️“

”ohh my honey! I didn’t know you wanted to get married- the wind! The sea! The birds even know our fate! We-“

”ALRIGHT!”

”SHUT IT SEAWEED HEAD!! DON’T INTERUPT ME WHILE IM CONFESSING MY LOVE to the most wonderful soul to have ever lived~”

⚔️🗡🔥💥💥💥⚔️🗡🔥💥⚔️🗡💥💥🔥

(Sanji and zoro fighting :3)

Dating Sanji includes sure fire protection.

no one will ever lay a hand on you. For a man? Self explanatory. Blast that motha sucka to space.💥 For a woman?? Welll…he’ll take all the hits for you okay?! So run away and go get Nami or Robin!! Hurry darling!

Dating Sanji includes trust.

more than anything he trusts you with his deepest darkest secrets. There’s no front when it’s just you two around, purely him. Not telling you his lineage was because he wanted to put that behind him..it wasn’t supposed to come back up. And man is he the most sorry sucker on earth when he betrays the strawhats. Because that means he’s betraying you. Pleasepleasepleasetakehimbackplease.

Uh guys I ran out of characters I’m gonna do a part two I guess 😭… I didn’t want to thooo

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pokemoncenter · 1 month

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On RP Etiquette

While this post is mostly intended for the Pokemon IRL RP community, the basic rules and thrust of this post should apply just as well to all RP.

(Written with help from @wingsofachampion!)

On “Yes, And”

RP, when you get right down to it, is a form of improvisational theater. Comedy, drama, the exact genre doesn’t matter, but it’s still improv all the way down. And that means the golden rule of improv still applies.

“Yes, And” is the basic rule of improv. It means: ‘Accept what came before without just shutting it down’ (“yes”), and then build on it and continue to iterate on The Bit (“and”). Sometimes, ‘Yes, But’ works just as well. What’s important is that you build on what came before without simply shutting it all down.

“No, And” can also work well. What doesn’t work is a flat ‘no’. Those are generally discouraged, because it shuts down the RP- Where do you go when your contributions have simply been discarded and swept away like nothing? This isn’t to say you can’t ever refuse; keeping your boundaries is just as important in RP as it is in life. But RP is a collaborative sport, and you have to keep the other party in mind as well.

As Professor Oak says, there is a time and place for everything.

Building off the previous post in a constructive way, even if it is denying it, is what is important.

To use an example:

If Sophora says legendary Pokemon do not exist, a reply of “Really? But what about [a specific legendary]?” can be acceptable or fun. So can “Yeah, and neither do flying-types!” or something similarly ludicrous. But what is not fun, is when a reply is simply “[a picture of legendary Pokemon waving at the camera right now]”.

Similarly, for those playing sapient Pokemon or humans-turned-Pokemon, the post could be “I hate having a tail!”, and the responses could fall into several categories. “Humans don’t have tails!” would be acceptable, or “the furry RPers are weird” would be… less so but still on the safe side of the line. “[picture of you as a human right now] STOP LYING” wouldn’t be. Because, it goes back to the same thing: How is your RP partner supposed to reply to that?

Which brings us to our next point.

On Thinking Two Replies Deep

When I reply in a post, one thing I always try to keep in mind is that I have some sort of ‘hook’ in my reply for the other person to reply to. If it’s just shutting someone down entirely, there’s no possible reply other than a ‘nuh-uh’ ‘yuh-huh’ chain that would be more at home on an elementary school playground.

It is related to “yes, and”, but still distinct. The point of it is that when you reply, you be sure to consider how others can reply. You can think of a few ways people can reply, and then go even deeper, and try to predict entire conversational flows. This way, you’re prepared, and you have a constant supply of ‘hooks’- And that means you can keep the RP going, and not shut it down.

In my case, the most common cause of me stopping replying in an RP thread is simply that I do not have anything I feel I can reply to. I have no contributions, and so I do not contribute. If there’s no hook, I can’t reply. On the other hand, just because you have a hook, doesn’t mean the thread will go exactly how you think, and a lot of the fun in RP is seeing how things go differently from what you expected.

But it’s always best to try to think two replies deep- Never just consider your reply, but consider how others will reply to your reply.

On Checking the Pinned Post

This one, I’m not sure needs to be said, but I will re-emphasize it anyway. If you’re going to be interacting with someone to build off them, please be sure you read their pinned post. So many times I get people who are directly contradicting everything in my pinned post and it’s difficult to deal with.

On Giving and Receiving Engagement

Many people do wonder why they aren’t getting engagement. The secret answer to that is not actually secret: People will interact with who they know. If you want engagement from others, you have to give engagement to others yourself.

If you have a new blog, no one will really know anything or interact with it until you get out there and start interacting more. And even if you are a well-established blog, that can still dry up fast if you don’t keep it going. RP is a communal sport- You have to give in order to get. This is true for engagement, for interaction, and even for the replies I was talking about from the start- You can’t get replies if you don’t give hooks.

#ooc post

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dracowars · 1 year

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omg plz do a pt. 2 for the sectumsempra post!!! it can be the reader and Draco in the hospital (they're best friends to lovers) and he's comforting her cuz she really hates the scars that were left and it ends up being angst to fluff! you can also add something that has to do with Draco getting revenge

sectumsempra² | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x reader

word count: 1,1k

summary: where y/n feels insecure about her scars and draco is out for revenge

a/n: again, sorry for taking so long, there are a lot of things happening in rl right now :( second part of sectumsempra!

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of injuries, mentions of scars

universe: harry potter

“You have gotten quite a hit there, dear. You are really lucky you weren’t subject to the curse for any longer”, Madam Pomfrey casually mentions while examining the small puncture marks left all over your body. “I don’t know what lasting damage it would have done to you otherwise.”

Forcing a smile at her words, you really do not feel like thinking back to what happened. Even though you can hardly remember what happened, you do know that you wanted to help Draco so badly and suddenly you were faced with a pain that was unbearable. All of this resulted in your entire body being disfigured now, the wounds have left scars all over your skin as if you had been pierced by a dagger or sword thousands of times, each time in a different spot. When Madam Pomfrey asks you to change into a new white shirt to cover yourself, you quickly do so.

These scars make you feel extremely vulnerable and when Draco, who has been by your side the whole time after bringing you here, holding your hand tightly in his throughout the treatment, gives you a pitying look, you feel even more insecure about yourself and your body.

You do not want him to see you like this, with all these horrible scars on your skin.

“You should apply this ointment on the wound residue every day until it eventually fades. Unfortunately, there will always be some traces of what you have been through left behind”, the nurse explains before she hands you a tube of the appropriate ointment, which you accept with a quiet thanks. Saying goodbye to her, you make your way out of the hospital wing and into the silent corridors of Hogwarts, which are now lit up by torches on the walls since it has become dark outside in the meantime.

On your way you pursue no real goal, but only silently walk down the corridors hand in hand, simply enjoying each other’s company. Laying your head on Draco’s shoulder and hugging his arm tightly, his stride eventually slows, and you sense that something is wrong immediately, that the silence has made him think.

Tenderly taking your face in his hands, as if you could crumble to dust at the slightest touch beneath his fingers, he looks deep into your eyes, his pupils reflecting not only affection but also fear and anger.

“Don’t ever do that again, do you hear me?”, he finally says firmly, rubbing one of his thumbs along your cheekbone. It almost sounds like he blames himself for you getting hurt when in the end it was solely your own decision to join the fight and help him, protect him. Though you have to admit that you did not plan on almost dying.

“I would do it again every single time. For you”, you softly but sadly smile because you know that your words are true. No matter how awful and unbearable the pain that unknown curse caused you, you will let it hit you every time if it means that Draco would be spared.

“I know, and I hate and love you for it at the same time”, Draco giggles, shaking his head in defeat while realizing that there is no point in arguing with you because, ultimately, he would be doing it the other way around as well. In the future, he will do everything in his might to ensure that you are never harmed again. Not when he can prevent it. Seeing you like this was the worst thing Draco has ever experience and he never ever wants to feel this fear again that he might lose you.

And all this because of Harry Potter.

Just the thought of that bastard infuriates Draco, which is why he quickly lets go of your face in order to clench his fists at his sides, bowing his head to the side at the same time. Immediately reading the change of emotions in Draco’s face, you take a cautious step towards him. He does not even have to say anything for you to understand what he is thinking about at that moment. You just know it and that is why you enclose one of his fists with your two hands, opening it hesitantly.

“He is not worth it.”

“He almost killed you, Y/N! He nearly took you away from me and fled like the fucking coward he is”, Draco suddenly bursts out, but you do not even flinch when he raises his voice and looks at you furiously, but also desperately. “He deserves the worst of the worst. The next time he crosses my path, I swear to Merlin I will-”

“Don’t”, you interrupt him and put pressure on his clasped hand. “You are so much better than him, Draco. So much better.”

Slowly snuggling closer to his chest, you can feel his rapid heartbeat pounding against your cheek. Carefully, you place one of your hands on the spot right above his painfully beating heart and gently stroke over it. For a moment you ignore the scars that smile at you from the skin of your hand.

“You are so much better than him, you need to see that”, you repeat to make sure that Draco really gets what you are saying. Eventually your words seems to have an effect as Draco’s body slowly relaxes beneath you and he wraps one of his arms around your waist, squeezing you even closer so he can fully enjoy your proximity. Especially now that he was not sure if he could ever feel you again.

He knows you are right. However, he can’t promise that he will remember your words the next time Harry Potter crosses his path.

“And you are stunningly beautiful”, Draco whispers softly, running his free hand up your back to your head, which he then guides towards your face. Gently placing his lips on yours, the feeling almost overwhelms him. He does not see how he could ever live without you, or your kisses.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, he takes your hands in his and kisses your knuckles and the back of your hand like a true gentleman, leaving a soft kiss on any scar he finds. While you noticed that something was going on in his mind, he also noticed that something was wrong with you. It took him a moment to realize that you were feeling insecure about the scars that are now covering your beautiful body.

“Never let anyone tell you otherwise, okay? You are beautiful, inside and outside”, Draco admits honestly, a slight smile on his lips as he speaks against yours. “These scars are just proof of how brave and courageous you are. Proof that you will always get back up, no matter what.”

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pinkslashersimp · 2 years

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yandere nbc hannibal with a very chill fem darling? like he kidnaps her and she’s just like ‘i don’t have to pay rent or work and you’ll feed me and love me unconditionally?? bet sign me up’ lmao i think that would be me. idk just random domestic headcanons would be nice 😩😭

YES YES ABSOLUTELY YES

this would also be me (but with like, much more added fear💀) at least i’d have part of my life sorted

i’ll do a drabble and then put some domestic headcanons down for u💗

TW: Yandere behaviour, toxic relationship, implied kidnapping and false imprisonment, manipulation reader is female

NBC!Hannibal x Accepting Female!Reader💗🌷 (and domestic headcanons)

Domestic headcanons under the cut:)

On the surface, from the minute he took you, it seemed as if you were simply in too much shock to properly respond to what he had just done.

From the lack of fighting, screaming, crying, or begging like he had expected, Hannibal just assumed perhaps your mind had switched itself to survival instinct. To be as kind and patient with him as possible from the fear he may harm or kill you

And Hannibal loves the fact you’re so accepting of the sudden situation, it makes accepting being with him much easier and means he is able to be so much more lenient with restricting your freedom within the house.

He adores how you’ll obey any command without question, sitting when asked to or retreating to another room when he needs you to leave momentarily.

On the surface, it does seem like everything is alright.

But below? He’s concerned for you, quite a bit.

Sure, he presumed you were simply in shock, and it should've worn off the more he slyly therapised you, but each time you became more and more accepting of his i healthy obsession towards you, and his constant affections.

It worried him greatly that perhaps you’d developed stockholm syndrome. He wanted your devoted love, not some sick loyalty.

He was also concerned that perhaps you were trying to earn his trust to run away

So, he brought his concerns up with you one night over dinner, mentioning how ‘well behaved’ you’ve been and how you should think of a ‘reward’

((*hint hint* “please tell me why you’re being so obedient, darling. *hint hint*))

“I don’t want a reward Hanni, I just like living here with you. it’s free and I don’t have to work” you reply nonchalantly, barely lifting your eyes away from the food as you eat

Hes a little insulted that you view him more as a home and money bank, but happy nonetheless that you see him as the sole provider and have to rely on him only for food and shelter

You can tell that you’ve insulted him a little, so that evening whilst he’s reading in his study you come up behind him and wrap your arms around his neck, asking when he’s coming to bed because you can’t sleep without him

(He forgives you forever)

Hey, it’s a win-win.

Most chores in the house have already been completed before you’ve even noticed something needs to be cleaned. Hannibal takes care of it for you, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t little things you can do

Hannibal will not let you cook. no no no. He’s worried his ‘special eating habits’ will undo all the love you have for him and you’ll run away, or worse, cease to love him at all.

He lets you wash the dishes instead, snaking his arms around your waist from behind when you take too long.

Dusting the corners of the bookshelf, only Hannibal persuades you to climb down from the ladder since “it doesn’t need to be dusted”

(Hes actually just scared you’ll fall)

Loves spending his off days with you quietly reading whilst you sit in his lap, one hand on the book and the other running through your hair

When he trusts you enough, he’ll start bringing you out.

Never to his parties, no. Nobody can know you’re with him since your disappearance, but he’ll roam the woods with you or take you somewhere nice and secluded, letting you babble away at whatever current thing you’re interested in

Which, speaking of babbling, he loves hearing you talk. Tell him anything and he’ll listen intently, eyes softening at the sound of your voice

#slasher headcanons #slashers #yandere slashers #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #yandere hannibal #yandere hannibal headcanons #yandere hannibal x reader #yandere hannibal x you #yandere hannibal fic #hannibal x you #hannibal headcanons #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal fic #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter fic #male yandere

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epinebleue · 7 months

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love me now (m) | 05

in which you go for a night drive.

pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)

genre: established relationship!au, mature.

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), car sex, mention of past toxic relationships.

chapter index

Most times, Friday nights are pretty lively.

Sometimes, you go to your favorite club, whose owner is a good friend of yours. If you’re not in the mood for clubbing, you order pizza and watch a movie before making out on the couch.

But today is different. You’re bored as hell, having lost all interest in the movie you’re supposed to be watching. Johnny must feel the same, because when you turn to look at him, he’s scrolling through his Instagram feed aimlessly with one hand, caressing your leg with the other.

“Why don’t we go out?” He suddenly says, blocking his phone and leaving it on the coffee table.

“I don’t feel like partying.”

“I didn’t mean to party.” He corrects. “Something like a night drive.”

That sounds much better, so you accept right away. You pick something comfortable, not bothering to glance at the rest of the clothes in your wardrobe. When you reach the entrance, you see that Johnny has chosen something sporty, too. He grabs his keys from the keyholder next to the intercom, opening the door for you.

“Why don’t we get McDonald’s?”

You’re unable to contain your excitement, smiling as you get in the elevator, and pushing the parking button. Johnny grabs your cheeks and kisses your forehead so delicately that you think you’ll melt in his arms.

“Anything for you, babe.”

You sit on the passenger seat, immediately demanding the aux cord. Johnny doesn’t even fight it, knowing it’ll be a waste of time. It’s a fact that you’re in charge of the music when you travel by car. It’s also a fact that won't change anytime soon.

The car starts moving, and Johnny drives towards the nearest McDonald’s.

The song you’ve chosen plays softly in the background as you observe the streetlights through the window.

“How come we’ve never done this before?”

Johnny simply shrugs, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Maybe it wasn’t the right time yet.”

“Wow.” You nod, feigning being impressed. “Deep.”

You open the window on your side, the night breeze hitting your face. You cross your arms over the window, your eyes drawn to the city lights that seem endless.

New York’s beauty is truly hypnotizing.

This is the city where you were born and raised; where you studied; in which you met most of your friends. It’s the city that gave you Johnny, and that makes it much more special.

Johnny pulls into the drive-thru, steering the wheel with his palm. The technique makes your stomach tingle. He always looks so hot while driving, you could watch him for hours.

There’s only one car in front of you, so they prepare your order rather quickly. To be honest, you’ve been craving a burger, fries, and ice cream for a while, so you don’t hold yourself back. You’ll eat everything, even if it means having a stomachache later. It’ll have been worth it.

You pay, then move to the parking lot. You give Johnny his burger, which is huge, and fish for your fries at the bottom of the bag.

“I remember that when I was little,” Johnny says, “I celebrated my birthday at McDonald’s. They even gave me a paper crown.”

“That’s what I call luxury.”

“Mom sent me the photo yesterday.”

Johnny takes his phone out of his pocket, scrolling down the gallery until he finds said picture. A big smile crosses your face when he shows it to you.

Johnny couldn’t be more than six years old. His round face is the first thing you notice. Then, you look at his mom, who is holding him in her lap. She looked so pretty with her short hair and dark lipstick. In all honesty, she hasn’t changed much. They’re both wearing a paper crown shaped like a clown.

“Your mom’s so beautiful.”

“What about her son?”

He leans forward, brushing your cheek with the tip of his nose.

“He’s even more beautiful.”

Johnny kisses you, satisfied with the answer. He loves compliments, especially if they come from you. He gets all shy and smiley, and his cheeks go pink.

It’s crazy to think that, when you met Johnny, you found him a bit intimidating. He was tall and only wore black clothes, plus his resting bitch face didn’t help at all. But once you started talking and got to know each other better, you realized he was a human-shaped teddy bear rather than a jerk.

His voice snaps you out of your memories and brings you back to the present time.

“What if I buy another burger?”

You gasp, laughing in disbelief. “Babe, no!”

“Why not?” He mops, discharging the wrap on the empty bag placed in between the seats.

“One is enough.” You insist.

“They’re small! Two is the perfect amount.”

“They seem small because your hand is huge. If you eat another one, cholesterol will atrophy your arteries and, eventually, you’ll die.” Your tone is so serious that Johnny starts laughing seconds later, covering his face with his hands. “Why are you laughing? I’m right!” Now you’re laughing, too.

“That was so mean!”

“It's a medical fact, Johnny!.”

“Fine, you convinced me.”

Once you’ve finished your meal, Johnny drives aimlessly around the city before deciding where to go next. There’s a park from which you can see New York’s skyline, so that’s the destination. Johnny manages to find a secluded spot from which you have a nice view of the city, along with some privacy.

“This might be the best idea I’ve had this week.”

“Or this month.”

Your soft laughs fill the car for a few seconds before going back to silence. Johnny glances in your direction, watching you get lost in the stars and the lights of the city that watched you grow up.

“Everything okay?”

You hum, nodding. “I’m just… reminiscing.”

“A penny for your thoughts.”

You take a deep breath, your eyes never darting away from the view beneath you.

“During my last year of high school, I dated this boy. He was handsome and so, so funny. He treated me like a queen and sometimes made me wonder if he had just jumped right out of a fairy tale. We had the most romantic six months and then, he left me. He never said why, he didn’t even dare to break up with me in person. He told my best friend and asked her to give me the message.”

“What a fucker.” Johnny mumbles.

“For the longest time, I thought I was the problem because I wasn’t pretty enough, sexy enough, smart enough for him. I felt so worthless and sad that I kind of started to drift away. I allowed pretty fucked up things to happen to me that I’ve tried to forget.” Johnny grabs your hand, caressing the palm with his thumb. You’ve got his full attention. “Years later, I started dating again, but I… I was scared all the time. Not that they were horrible people, I was just afraid that they would leave me and make me return to the toxic relationship I had with myself. And then, you came around.”

You turn your head, looking for Johnny’s eyes. He’s looking at you with those fond orbs that you adore.

“Not once have you made me doubt myself. In any way.”

He cups your cheeks and pecks your lips, moving away just enough for you to look him in the eye again.

“I’ll never give you a reason to be scared.”

You give him a reassuring smile.

“I know.”

Slowly, Johnny starts kissing you, his lips soft and warm. The tip of his tongue touches your mouth and you open it, giving him full access. His wet muscle brushes yours and, delicately, Johnny holds the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You reach for his T-shirt, your clouded mind looking for the craved contact, any kind of contact.

“I need you.” He mumbles against his lips, and it’s all you need to hear.

You straddle his lap, trying to find a comfortable position in the driver's seat of the car. Johnny’s basketball shorts are thin enough to let you feel his boner against your core, and you find satisfaction in the fact that he’s just as worked up as you are. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Johnny squeezes you against his clothed chest, so tightly that you don’t know where you start and where Johnny ends.

You could get caught, you could get arrested, but none of that fades you. Right now, the only thing in your mind is Johnny. Johnny licking the length of your neck, Johnny biting where he knows it’ll make you hiss his name. You drag your hips, humping his boner, and when Johnny moans against your mouth, the little clarity you have slips through your fingers like water.

“What about taking this to the back?”

Johnny’s nod is enough of an answer. Before you know it, you’re making your way into the backseat, Johnny on your heels.

Your hands untie the lace of your sweatpants the moment you fall on the seat, Johnny lingering in the door, watching you. You take them off under his gaze, pressing your back against the door behind you and opening your legs to let him peek at the wet patch in your underwear. It’s not long before you take it off, too, the crisp air making you shiver.

“You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Come and punish me, then.”

You straddle his lap once again when Johnny gets in the car, your lips crashing against his. He looks for the door’s handle in the dark, slamming it, before taking off both his shorts and boxers in a swift movement.

You feel Johnny’s hand sneaking in between your bodies, then he’s forcing his length into you.

New York is a beautiful city, especially at night, but you’ve got the best view in front of you. Johnny lets his head fall back, his pretty mouth open and gasping for air as you start bouncing on his cock without warning, too eager to wait.

Johnny looks at you through half-opened eyes, his hands falling on your waist to give a particularly rough thrust that makes you gasp.

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen.” He whispers against your neck. “Especially when I’m balls-deep inside you.”

“I’m even prettier when you make me cum.”

Johnny’s fingers dig into your ass, guiding you up and down his cock.

“Is that so?”

You nod, biting your lips at the feeling of his tip hitting that spot that makes you go feral.

“You should see for yourself.”

Johnny takes it seriously, hugging your waist and fixing you in place, his pace getting quicker.

You didn’t expect to get railed in the backseat of his car when he offered a midnight drive, but here you are, wishing you were completely naked to scratch his broad shoulders, back, and chest, which he loves.

Today, he’ll have to settle for the mark of your teeth in his collarbone.

He pants in your ear, his hot breath fanning the droplets of sweat that decorate your neck like diamonds. You whine and wiggle, trying to break free from his grip.

“I want to ride you.”

Johnny usually makes you beg a little more, so you’re pleasantly surprised when he lets go of your waist.

You grind back and forth, making the most out of this new freedom he has granted you. It’s so hot inside the car that the windows are all fogged and your top sticks to your body. You take it off, much to Johnny’s delight, who grabs your breasts and squeezes them.

His hands move up and reach your sweaty neck, pushing away the strands of hair glued to the skin to lock one of them behind it. He uses it to hold you down, retraining your movements.

You open your mouth to protest, but he kisses you before you can say anything, rubbing your clit with his free hand, making you tremble, a choked moan ricocheting against the walls of the vehicle.

“Sorry, baby.” He says even though he’s not sorry at all, thrusting faster. “You can be in charge another time.”

The brutal pace of both his hips and hand is enough to make you forget why you were mad in the first place. He pounds into you as if you hadn’t had sex in months, he growls like an animal when you try to fuck him back, eyes shut close to focus on the feelings of his cock making its way into you over and over again.

Your legs hurt, yet you don’t want to stop.

You don’t last long, white sparkles dance around in the darkness when you reach your high.

Johnny fucks you through it for as long as he can, pressing his hips to yours as he fills you up, your name in his mouth like a song.

You rest your head on his shoulder, allowing him to caress your hair, you both trying to catch your breaths.

“Was that good?”

“I’ve got your cum inside me.” You remark. “So there’s your answer.”

Johnny’s chest shakes with his laugh, scratching your scalp with his fingertips. You would fall asleep if it wasn’t for his voice breaking the silence.

“Promise me you won’t freak out.”

“What?”

“There’s a car parked right next to us.”

No reposting or translations allowed.

#nct smut #nct fic #nct johnny #johnny smut #nct johnny smut #johnny suh smut #johnny suh fic #nct johnny fic #johnny imagine #johnny suh #nct fic smut

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ack4rwoman · 5 months

Text

•°. *࿐ 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄

tw: swearing, mention of nipples, arguing (counts as bantering), just chaos tbh

pairing: satoru gojo x reader

notes: the way i was bawling my eyes out for the new jjk ep that came out today whilst also trying to simultaneously stay happy for my husband’s birthday. had to distract myself, so here’s my gojo!birthday post! enjoyyy <33

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

certain events were taken very seriously in your household. it would be extremely unnatural if you missed something as simple as the first day back to school or the last day of school, even.

to be fair, as much excitement as you held for little events such as those, your partner’s excitement was enough to accustom every other member of your house (there were three of you, excluding satoru gojo).

seriously: he had only recently thrown a child-like tantrum because you’d forgotten the anniversary of your first sparring session three years ago — who even remembers shit like that? what happened to the normal, memorable events like valentines day, mothers day, or fathers day?

or birthdays.

now that was one you took extremely seriously. that was one you’d understand if satoru threw a tantrum over forgetting something as important as the day commemorating the year the world turned upside down by the birth of satoru gojo himself (it would have been nice if you were given a warning — putting up with him was forced labour, you firmly believe that you deserve to be paid).

and getting a gift for satoru was easy as pie. the man was so full of sunshines and daisies that he accepted nearly everything. it came to a point where you’d been under the impression that he was simply pretending for your sake, that you tried giving him one of nanami’s weird old pointed shoes during his 17th. needless to say, he was not pretending to like your gifts, and that was proven very well when the strongest sorcerer in the world held up the pair in one large hand, teary eyed with his lips wobbling.

drama queen, you thought in your head.

this year, you had much planned: the dinner table where you usually forbid a number of more than four candies or sweets were now filled with enough to diagnose him with diabetes and at least twenty cavities.

that was not all.

sometime last month, satoru had bought a pretty, blue dress for tsumiki (no special occasion, it was ‘speaking’ to him, apparently — his words, not yours) but it ended up being a size too small. you, wisely, suggested returning it, but the idiot came up with something… unique.

“just let megumi wear it!” he’d said with a giant grin.

megumi did not take that too well. despite the fact that you were already on his side, scolding satoru for constantly teasing the innocent boy, megumi had run back into your shared bedroom and returned with one of your own pretty blue dresses.

satoru looked down at him, his opaque, round glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose to reveal his scarily-blue eyes.

“oh?” he’d said, brows raised. “i mean i see why you’d want to wear that one, but —"

“i don’t want to wear it, creep,” snapped megumi, dropping the dress at satoru’s feet. the height difference was comical, megumi barely reached higher than the snow-haired man’s knee. “it’s for you.”

your eyes narrowed.

“now wait just a minute —”

“i’ll wear tsumiki’s dress the day you wear that one,” scoffed megumi, who knew very well that satoru would never stoop that low. he did not wait for another response before walking away.

you and satoru watched him leave; you looked at satoru, who shrugged at you, and before either of you could blink, megumi was at satoru’s knees again.

“wha—”

kick!

“ow!”

the dark haired kid ran off without a word, leaving satoru to rub at his knee with his glasses askew on his face.

“the kid can seriously kick, huh?” he grunted, bouncing on the heels of his feet as you had approached him with a scowl.

“that’s what you get for even saying such a stupid thing,” you told him as you pinched his arm to stop him from bouncing around. his face came to level with yours and you took the opportunity to fix his glasses before flicking him on the forehead. “put my dress away.”

satoru grinned at you.

“i’ll skin you alive if i see you in that.”

“i paid for it.”

“and you’ll do that again if you wear it.”

so that brought you to the present day, where you found yourself actually pleading with megumi to… wear the dress.

“no,” he said, glaring at you (a rare sight, because despite your obvious similarities in humour with satoru, megumi still preferred to side with you in every situation). “it’s ugly.”

“you didn’t say it was ugly when tsumiki said she liked it.”

“tsumiki’s —” started megumi, looking at you as if you’d grown three different heads. “tsumiki’s a girl! why is — what’s wrong with you people?”

“it’ll look funny!”

“exactly.”

“he’ll be here in a couple of minutes, megumi. just for a minute… please?” you reasoned, hands clasped in pleading. “i want to make sure his birthday is perfect.”

“at my expense.”

you stared at him. “why does a kid like you even know those words?”

tsumiki had walked in the room by that point, a party hat sitting on top of the braids you had expertly done for her that morning.

“he reads non-fiction books,” she answered your question easily, placing her own wrapped gift on the table with very little room due to the pastries and goodies.

“of course,” you sighed. “because that’s so normal for a seven year old kid. you know, forget the dress. want me to take you to a doctor instead?”

“you’re not normal either,” megumi shot back grumpily.

“i am!” you argued back, unaware of the fact that satoru was now in the process of unlocking the door. “aren’t i, tsumiki?”

the girl, though hesitant, nodded enthusiastically. you’ll take it.

“see, megumi? i’m norm— what are you staring at?”

megumi’s face had paled, his pupils growing smaller and smaller with whatever view behind you he was met with. your eyes darted to tsumiki, who also looked visibly shocked, but you knew her well enough to analyse the fact that she also looked very… amused.

what was so amusing?

“I’M HOOOOME!” sang satoru, his voice smooth as silk and loud as though he’d spoken through a megaphone.

but satoru wasn’t that shocking. satoru was just satoru. satoru was…

you turned around.

satoru was wearing a dress.

your dress.

the one you’d forbidden him from touching.

the one you’d explicitly threatened him with.

the one he knew was off-limits.

the one he had now stretched and ripped due to his broad shoulders, his muscular frame, his tall body.

satoru seemed blissfully unaware of the issue at hand, pouting as his blue eyes darted from you, to megumi, to tsumiki.

“what, no birthday songs? you know i love your singing, y/n —”

“is infinity on?” you asked slowly, voice shaky with frustration.

satoru blinked.

“huh?”

“is. infinity. on.”

“i mean — yeah — but —”

“okay,” you smiled, walking over to the table and presenting all the treats you’d bought for him. you picked up a cinnamon roll with your bare hands, ignoring the way the sugary icing was now dripping down your skin.

“oh! those for me? i knew you’d come through! remember that shoe you gave me back when —”

splatter!

it was a good thing you were known for hitting your targets every time: satoru’s — your — dress was now tainted with the mess only a delicious cinnamon roll could cause. it dropped to the floor after sliding down his front for a good five seconds as you, him, and the kids watched with interest.

he stared at the wasted treat, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape at the disaster. he looked back up again, ready to protest when he found you holding another one of his treats: it was kikufuku — edamame and cream flavour, also known as, satoru gojo’s favourite.

“hey, wait —”

smack!

square on the nose. target hit. mission… accomplished? no, not quite yet. that was not enough compensation for your previously, well-crafted, beloved dress.

the idiot tried catching it, only for it to slip between his unnecessarily long fingers and fall sadly onto the wooden floor.

“no!” he shouted dramatically, voice cracking with despair. “that was —”

“your favourite?” you finished off, head tilted mockingly. “i know. that was my dress.”

satoru shook his head vigorously; it would have made you laugh if not for the fact that the dress he was wearing belonged to you.

“it still is!” he stated desperately.

“it’s not even a dress anymore you stupid man-child!”

“i know it looks a little… weird —”

“just weird?”

“and… a little ripped —"

“a little?”

“but it’s still yo— put my kikufuku down right now!”

the next five minutes had been an unpleasant sight for all: you were trying to get him out of your ruined dress, he was trying to get his favourite treat out of your hand, not to be tragically wasted like the previous one. tsumiki had made one or two attempts to calm all the tension down, but megumi had hissed at her to stop interfering.

tsumiki knew it was because if the arguing had been an issue of the past, megumi and his claim that if satoru wore your dress then he’d wear tsumiki’s small one, would be an issue of the present.

satoru, with his arms wrapped around your body (somehow) to prevent you from grabbing another one of his goodies, looked over his shoulder to send a menacing glare to megumi.

“you’re not off the hook either, mister,” he said loudly, “get the dress on.”

you pushed satoru off of you with an impressive amount of strength seeing as he practically towered over you and bested you in physical strength any day.

“no, forget it megumi. he doesn’t deserve to see you in a dre—”

the rest of your sentence had been muffled by satoru’s large hand slapping over your mouth, making you stumble back in surprise and anger.

“ignore her megumi, put the damn dress on.”

you pulled at his already-dishevelled hair sharply. he bit back a high-pitched scream his inner girl had wanted to release.

“he doesn’t want to anyway, he’s not gonna listen to you!”

satoru tried pushing you with his chest away from the dinner table so it would be easier to hold you back. he’d decided that you wouldn’t give up on this, therefore creating some space between you and his beloved sugary treats would be ideal in this scenario.

“oi, i did what the little brat wanted me to do,” he hissed with fury. his hands closed around your wrist, he looked over his shoulder at megumi again. “and i feel like shit right now —”

“— no swearing in front of the kids —”

“— i feel like poop right now,” satoru obediently corrected himself without looking back at you. “now do your dad a favour and put the dress on —”

megumi gave him a look of disgust and did not hesitate to share his thoughts.

“ew you’re not my dad.”

and sometimes you genuinely believe that satoru has some mild form of adhd, for his attention diverted quickly from his physical battle with you to the random one picked up by megumi.

“what the hell?”

but it still seemed as though one side of his brain was still working, he hadn’t let go of your wrists just yet.

“oh my god,” you sighed, looking over at tsumiki as though she could help you in any way: the young girl shrugged, fiddling with the little bands that went round her face in order to keep her party hat in place.

“pause, this is getting really serious right now and i don’t like it,” said satoru, and then quickly turned his head to face you with a glare. “not that you wasting my food isn’t serious.”

you struggled with his iron-tight grip on your wrists.

“i paid for all of that,” you reminded him charmingly.

“and i paid for this dress.”

“and you also wrecked it,” you snapped, eyeing what once used to be your beautiful blue dress that now looked like something you’d seen peasants wear in a movie.

“i’ll buy you a closet full of dresses if that’s what you want!” satoru argued back.

“i don’t want a closet full of dresses,” you retorted, and then paused, looking up thoughtfully. “but i’ll hold you to that.”

satoru blinked at you, confused; you shook your head and focused.

“i want that dress!” you demanded angrily, the battle continuing despite yourself. “and you didn’t heed my warning, so your kikufuku and everything else i bought you gets it.”

“you’re evil —”

“and you look like a fool!”

satoru did not deny that, so with his eyes still trained on you, narrowing them slowly, he exhaled through his nose.

“megumi, i won’t ask again. wear the dress.”

before you could go for the dinner table again, satoru ducked and lifted you by your waist, using his long legs to make large strides towards the couch. you protested, your hands had instinctively held onto his shoulders, and without them, you could not fight back. you opted to dig your nails into him instead — he hissed but made no complaints as he continued to quickly jog you over to the couch.

“megumi!” you called out loudly: the boy still remained where you had last spoken to him, by the chairs of the table with a party hat he’d been fiddling with beneath his chin. “don’t —”

you were interrupted by your own gasp when your back harshly met the soft cushions of the couch. you did not have to focus that hard to hear megumi’s quiet ‘wasn’t planning on it’.

“one down, another to go!” cheered satoru, way too joyful for your liking.

your gaze hardened, taking a cushion and dashing it at the back of his head with as much force as you could gather. of course, you never missed, but it did little to stop satoru from approaching megumi (other than the offended look he sent you in that ridiculous dress you tried so hard not to laugh at).

megumi remained stagnant, his glare hardening with each step satoru took to get closer to him.

“clown,” muttered megumi, jumping off of the chair he’d been sitting on and running to his room.

“oh, good plan!” satoru called after him with a smile. “you go and get the dress and i’ll stay and wait here!”

tsumiki coughed nervously. “erm — i don’t think he’s going to get th—”

she cut herself off when she saw you get back up and charge towards satoru. he turned around a second too late, you’d pushed him back and grabbed a handful of random pastries and sweets, throwing them at him without another thought.

“you’re gonna have to use hollow purple to stop me,” you said over his shouts of protests.

“jokes — jokes on — oh my god, no! — jokes on you, i — stop! — could just use infinity!”

“what’s the point? the food gets wasted anyway, genius.”

the food war (and physical battle, when satoru had decided that enough was enough and the only way to pacify you was to beat you in a clash of strength) had gone on for at least another ten minutes. you were growing exhausted, but satoru? satoru, that monster, was still fighting you as if your attacks were nothing.

stamina now seemed like water on a dry desert for you.

but you refused to give up.

“i can see your nipple, you pervert, ew!” you shouted from underneath him.

it was an odd mix of your limbs. you were trying to flip him over but the stretch his body when you twisted his torso somehow only caused the fabric across his chest to tear, revealing one of his nipples.

“you see it every night,” satoru shot back with a grin.

you wanted to slap the smug look on his face badly.

“that’s why i tell you to stop sleeping shirtless every night —”

“why are you complaining? any other woman would be glad to —”

“what are you guys doing?” tsumiki’s soft voice interrupted you like the smooth spread of butter on toast.

the two of you looked up; your jaws dropped.

tsumiki had taken the time that you guys spent fighting to change out of her simple, regular dress and put on one of the new ones satoru had bought for her sometime last week. it was a similar shade to the blue he’d wanted megumi to wear (for some odd reason, the weirdo?) but was definitely much more flattering. much, much more prettier.

and it was her size.

“get off of me, you —"

“— no swearing —"

“you woman fetishise-r —”

“what’s that?” asked tsumiki, as you both got to your feet and dusted yourselves off.

“yeah, what’s that, y/n?” satoru cheekily repeated, staring at you as if he needed the answer or he’d die a sad and painful death.

“it’s —” you began sharply, trying not to kill him with your death stare before looking back at tsumiki with a smile, “it’s not important. the real question is: what’s that?”

“…it’s a dress,” said satoru unhelpfully. he was looking at you as if you had discovered new learning difficulties.

“another peep out of you and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” you threatened him quietly.

you did not need to look at him to know that he was pouting like a kicked puppy. at least he was mute, but not for long, it seemed.

“you’d do that to me on my birthda—”

“i’ve done a lot to you today, don’t push it,” you said, still eyeing tsumiki’s dress with obvious amazement and interest. you approached her, bending down to her height and tucking back some of the flyaways on her head. “it makes you look like a princess —”

“and it stopped you guys from fighting,” she smiled… like a princess.

satoru glared down at you, well aware that you could not see him.

“yeah i’m still not done with her —”

“i’ll make you sit in the naughty chair, gojo,” you said menacingly.

he wanted to let out a long, exaggerated sigh, but the sound of tsumiki laughing at your… mutual banter (?) had drawn his attention away from your backside to her and her new dress.

“ah,” sighed satoru, rubbing the back of his neck, “still wanted to see megumi in a dress.”

“can it, gojo.”

“i did!” he responded, sounding like a child getting scolded by their mother. he looked down at tsumiki and brushed her party hat aside to ruffle her hair (though not enough to mess her neat braids up). “i mean — you look so pretty with it on, i just wore this stupid dress for nothing now.”

“mhm,” you nodded, rising to your full height to raise a brow at him.

he shrugged, picking up an unwrapped lindor bar from the table. “can i at least get a picture of myself?”

“no,” you rolled your eyes. “your entire thought about putting megumi in a dress was just plain dumb, satoru.”

tsumiki blinked up at you. “but you spent all day trying to get megumi to agree to —”

your eye twitched as you felt satoru’s amused and interested stare directed at your cheek. you refused to look back at him.

you loved tsumiki, you really did. but just like any other kid, she had a tendency of speaking about something when it was very clear that it was simply not required. in other words, she spoke to make matters worse for you — unknowingly, of course. it stung a little more seeing as being proven wrong against the smug bastard that is satoru gojo is enough to make you want to jump into a big, black hole and never return again.

the idiot was just that cocky.

“a dumb idea, huh?” you heard him say.

you closed your eyes, as though they were the source of your hearing.

“mhm…” you hummed, irritated.

“that so?” said satoru, and when you did not respond, he took it as an opportunity to go on, and on, and on.

“aw, you did that for me?”

“just for me?”

“and she spent all day doing that, did she?”

“of course she did, look at all those treats for me!”

“i mean — not out of the ordinary for her to be bugging megumi but for me?”

“you know what?” you interrupted him loudly. you faced him with a frown. “i want a divorce!”

satoru stared down at you, glanced at tsumiki, before blinking down at you again. he raised his snow-white brow at you, acting as though you’d said something that deserved ten years in jail.

“we’re not even married!”

“and whose fucking fault is that?”

“language!”

“happy birthday!” you stated angrily, reaching up and kissing him on his cheek before storming out of the room, unaware of the dazed look he sent after you, unaware of the pink dusting his cheeks, unaware of the dreamy sigh he let out when the door slammed loud enough to shake the rest of the house.

soon, that argument could never be used against him, especially not by you.

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azullumi · 28 days

Text

“dangerously yours” ; alhaitham

summary — it was a simple mission, kill the scribe. it should be easy but what happens when you fall in love with your target?

pairing — alhaitham w/gender-neutral reader

tags — definitely not fluff, some angst here and there, reader is a criminal, inspired by the dangerously yours podcast (please listen to it), not proof-read as always, this is more like an idea dump and word vomit ; headcanons/scenario

words — 1200+

note — woke up and had this idea, goodnight (also wrote this months ago and just noticed this in my drafts)

you had one mission, an easy one at that.

working as a mercenary and spy under a criminal organization, you were tasked to do various kinds of things—from infiltrating certain groups in order to obtain information, from guarding someone and protecting their life to taking one at that. emotions were never relevant in this line of work, empathy and mercy never exists in these crimson-painted walls of your life. nor did the notion of affection and feelings were accepted.

until a file containing details about a gray-haired man with eyes that seem to reflect both the ocean and the forest along with the contents of your task were placed into your hands: gain his trust, take the necessary information, and with the words encased in red and capitalized as if it was an important note, as if it was something that shouldn’t be ignored, the words, kill him were written.

it was simple. it’s not like this was your first time receiving this kind of mission; you had plenty of these and you’ve always done and finished them without any sort of trouble coming in your way. it should have been simple.

however, nobody warned you of what he would become—to you. the soon-to-be bane of your existence: alhaitham.

his whole being itself was a hindrance, a disruption to the way that you have survived life—kill or be killed. so how did something that you have been so familiar and used to become as scary as if it was the unknown? how did something that your whole life revolved around become so foreign and strange? how could you ever let go of someone who basked you in the afterglow of warmth and serenity?

he had you experiencing such things that you never dared to imagine.

“how can you be so sure when you don’t even know me completely.” you say, sitting right in front of the light-haired man, alhaitham,—your target—with a smile plastered on your face, a fake one at that. everything that will unfold here and throughout was simply just a form of deception to accomplish your mission.

“oh, i know you.” there was an underlying meaning underneath the tone of his words, the corner of his lips lifted into a small smirk, and you couldn’t help the numbing and cold chill that runs through your skin.

it was in a way that those stupid turquoise eyes of his feels like it’s looking right through you, as if he could read and see every thought of yours—and that’s what scares you, it’s not the fear that he’ll know of your soul and what you truly came for but the fear that he’ll know of the alacritous thumping of your heart and how your mind spirals into a turmoil and how you have to remind yourself every single time you hear his voice or gaze at him that this is the man you are supposed to kill.

not even once have you ever bothered to remember the names of the previous men that you were entrusted to get to rid of, only knowing their faces and quickly forgetting about it after you have done your job. but to alhaitham, to him, you know every single thing about him—how he prefers his coffee made, the colors that he likes (he insists on not having a favorite), how he struggles with falling asleep often, his love and preferences for books and reading, how he styles his hair (he only brushes through it and let the wind do its job), how he expresses himself, and how he lives his life.

in this play that you have orchestrated, you have unknowingly become of a victim of your own deception.

oh, foolish you, yearning for something, someone, that you will never have. when did it even begin? how did you even start to crave for a life that was completely out of your hands? was it when he smiled when he looked at you with those eyes one time? was it when you heard the sound of his laughter and wished to hear more of it? was it at the moment he kissed you and all you could remember throughout the night was the feeling of his lips grazing against your own and ghosting against your skin? is it because he always treats you with gentleness and looks at you with adoration like your existence was made up of stars and the sun?

for the first time in your whole life, you feel like a normal person for once—one who only experienced being hurt by heartbreaks, who cried over simple things, who ran through the fields in freedom and with nothing chaining you in a single place. for once, you feel like living instead of surviving.

the thought of running away, leaving behind the one thing you’ve only known and clung to, and simply being with him remains at the back of your head, the idea of waking up and spending your morning with him underneath the warm light of the sun, that you’ll get to feel the soft beating of his heart against your ear as he held you, that you get to experience the tenderness of his touch and kisses, that you’ll get to have him so close and so bare to you fills you with such warmth and comfort (feelings that were completely shoved under the pile of increasing corpses of the lives that you betrayed and took). but you weren’t a good person and you never will be, so how could you covet for something that is entirely undeserving for your existence.

“i can’t do this, i have to kill you.” your words came out as a desperate whisper, almost like a plea. you don’t even notice the tears that started to well up in the corner of your eyes until alhaitham wiped one that threatened to spill over your cheeks, his gesture gentle and forgiving. no one had ever come this close, no one had ever treated you so softly.

don’t come so close.

“then do it.” was he taunting you? you could never tell. all you know is you can’t pull the trigger on him.

“i can’t.” when did killing someone become so hard after you have taken dozens of lives with your blood-stained hands? your life’s purpose had trails of crimson, remnants of betrayal all over it yet you couldn’t even bear the thought of watching his eyes lose its light.

“why can’t you?” his voice was as soft and kind as his touch—he always speaks to you in such a way, never raising his tone at you, even at this moment.

the words remain stuck on your throat, nothing willingly coming out of your moment and the moment between you two comes into a hush. you can’t even say it; a confession that feels like a sin once it’s uttered out loud.

“say it. just say it, my love, please.” he chokes on his last word and something inside you breaks seeing this state of him. oh, how utterly foolish both of you are for falling.

“don’t do this to me.” your plea turns into a prayer, praying and wishing yet you don’t even know what it is that you are begging for.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin imagines #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham imagines #alhaitham x you #alhaitham #alhaitham genshin #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #al haitam x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin impact x you #azul.writes

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cosmicisms · 8 months

Text

alhaitham being whipped for his lover

sfw

gn!reader

a/n: love you alhaitham but you’ve been temporarily benched for a twink magician. sorry! also idk what the format of this post is like, i just threw words together without much thought.

alhaitham who had no want or need for romance before meeting you.

panics upon getting to know you more because he can sense something is wrong.

he’s very in tune with his own emotions and thoughts, so right off the bat, he knows that you’re making him feel some type of way.

poor guy, you’ve made him doubt everything he ever knew about himself.

you’d never realise it, though.

even when you greeted him with your happy smile, placing the hot coffee on his desk, he simply nods and politely thanks you.

oh god, but if you could peek into his mind. panic.

he’d usher you out of his office, claiming that you’re distracting him from the files he must attend to, even though you’re pretty sure he’s asked you out to lunch many a time during his work hours. hm…

after a while he caves, tired of denying his own feelings.

as mentioned earlier, he’s very in tune with his own thoughts. he’s not going to hide from them forever.

having approached you with his confession laid out neatly in his mind, alhaitham is rendered speechless as he’s met with that same feeling of desire he always felt around you.

except now it was more intense, blooming within him and causing him to belt out his confession in a rather strange way.

you could’ve sworn he was lecturing you, judging by the way he spoke.

after you processed his words, you accepted and returned his confession with that same sweet smile he adored.

and here you two are now. a happy couple. all according to alhaitham’s strategic plan that he definitely did not spend hours upon hours perfecting and agonising over.

now, having alhaitham as your boyfriend comes with a lot of things.

first of all, his love languages are quality time and acts of service.

even you being in the room with him while he works is enough for him. bonus points if you sit on his lap while he reads.

speaking of work, do you need help with yours? alhaitham’s a scholar, well versed in many fields. have a report you’re dreading to write up? alhaitham will try his best to help, lending you resources and giving you pointers along the way.

also he’s a touchy guy. not in the sense that he’s emotional, i mean he’s a cuddlebug.

loves to touch you in any sort of way. interpret that however you like, but i’m talking about linked pinkies while walking through sumeru city, fingers gently caring through your hair while he reads, and throwing his leg over you while you both sleep.

“i’m clingy? not at all, i simply want to keep you in my sights lest you get into any trouble. what’s that? i’m in denial? hm… then i will refrain from touching you. no, no, you’ve lost your chances now, darling.”

pet names are another thing. he doesn’t really use em. maybe the occasional “darling” or “dear” now and then, but most of the time, he’ll address you by your name.

but the way he does it still has you blushing all the same.

he likes seeing you wearing his clothes. at first, he was confused, however.

“i don’t understand. you have your own clothes that are perfectly suitable, and yet you wear mine anyways? …alright, then.”

yep, he secretly loves it. will melt upon seeing you wrapped up in his cape, his cheeks tainted with pink.

not the biggest sappy romantic, if i’m being honest. how would’ve thought, right?

he’ll cook something for you both and have a nice dinner in the privacy of his home (having kicked kaveh out for the night).

doesn’t enjoy dates out and about, but will gladly take you to the quieter spots of the city. maybe the library for a nice reading date, the two of you cuddled together in a corner with a book each.

…though, his attention is definitely focused on you, rather than the text in his hand.

will literally do anything for you. yeah, he might tease you a little for it, but he won’t hesitate.

alhaitham’s always been sure of himself. whether people thought he was arrogant or just that self-confident, he didn’t really care either way.

but for you? oh, for you…

he loves you. he could never deny that.

“you are the only one who could ever make me feel this way. i love you, y/n. let’s stay together for a long time. dare i say forever?”

#✩°｡⋆⸜ �� genshin #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gn reader #alhaitham x you #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #alhaitham headcanons #alhaitham genshin impact

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klausysworld · 11 months

Note

Hello, can you do a one shot where the reader befriends Klaus just to get close to Rebecca, who actively accepts her advances and much moooooore over time?

No getting rid of me now

Becoming Klaus’ friend was a hassle enough.

He was paranoid and narcissistic.

However as soon as he trusted me, it was far too easy to see her every day.

He was constantly needing my opinions, my judgement on his plans and situations. And she was often there, just being an extra pair of eyes, throwing in her judgement every now and then and laughing something I said.

It didn’t take too long to become friends with Rebekah, her inviting me on shopping trips or spa days. Of course the best days were when she wanted to go lingerie shopping and needed my opinion.

———————————————————————

She did a little turn before putting her hands on her hips. The floral jade-green set hugging her figure tightly.

My tongue darted to to wet my lips as I did her a once over.

“What d’ya think?” She asked, her bright eyes shining back at me

I blinked at her a few times, my mouth failing to form words making me nod enthusiastically with a blush covering my face. She smiled widely and turned around to look in the mirror, her ass in display for my greedy eyes making me let out a breath and stand up.

“You think so? I mean it’s a little small, don’t you think?” She asked, her hands grasping her own breasts through the undergarments and pushing them together.

I bit my tongue before clearing my throat

“I think it’s meant to be a little…tight” I murmured before moving infront of her and adjusting the material over her breasts. When I looked back to her eyes they were dark, her lips parted and her cheeks pinker, contrasting with the shade of her lingerie, I could only hope that I was the only one receiving that look.

———————————————————————

Klaus picked up on my little obsession crush on his sister and found it rather amusing.

He often pointed out things he knew she would appreciate me getting her

“If anyones going to be with my sister, I don’t mind it being you love”

And once Klaus was on board it was much easier to get her.

Rebekah’s the kind of girl who thrives on the chase, she wants to be a prize to be won. She wants to prove she’s my first choice and I was all the more glad to show her.

Gifts were simple, even though she had everything already, any clothing or jewellery I got for her became her favourite thing to wear.

Stocking her up on her favourite perfume earned me and squeal and a kiss of the cheek.

Something as simple as aa sugar ring donut would have her launching into my arms.

The Mikaelsons as a family were rather touch starved, I had already learnt that as part of being Klaus’s now best friend. Whenever something awful had happened, despite his screaming and yelling for me to get out of his house, all he really wanted was a hug.

Rebekah was no different, bad day? Come here, we’ll snuggle and watch movies.

Someone said something mean? Okay we’ll go shopping just give me a second while i send an address to Klaus

She was like a cuddly cat, always wanted to be on me, touching me, wanted help with her hair or her dresses.

Especially when it was a special occasion, like a ball or a gala.

She needed me every step of the way.

And more often or not, while i would be zipping up her dress, I would find my lips sucking soon to be healed marks into her skin. Her head back to give me more access while she brought my hand round to her chest.

And throughout the ball, her eyes were always on me and mine on her.

But I made sure not to ask her to dance, she had to do that bit. I wanted her to come to me.

Klaus said it was always most amusing when she would come to him aimlessly panicking that I would say no and he’d have to literally push her into me so she’d have to say something.

And the night after I had finally gotten her in my bed, fingers deep inside her while I sucked on her tits and she yelled my name, Klaus simply gave me a smirk and a childish high five as an official welcome to the family.

There was no getting rid of me now I had her.

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lightsinthedistancee · 1 year

Text

Honeysuckle

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 9.6k

Summary: Following Joel and Ellie’s return, you’re there to mend things over.

“When night comes, he wants to drown in your presence, drown in your eyes, feel you, remember what home is like again—it requires three of you, together in one place.

The picture of the month he puts together for you is jumbled, vague. There’s already an underlying sense of change, and he’d rather focus on the things that remained.

You. Only you, in his arms.”

A/N: Set right after Joel and Ellie return from the hospital. (Tagged everyone from my “everything” list, but it’s a new character for me, so no pressure to interact!)

Warnings: Brief smut, loss, angst (but with a happy ending and plenty of soft moments!), implied age gap, language

“Joel?”

Your back is pressed to his chest, his heavy arm draped over your waist protectively. Your voice is a whisper in the darkness, a breath in the night.

He tenses at it, presumably reminding himself that they’re safe. Ellie’s just down the hall, and you’re evidently not alerting him to danger. It’s a foreign feeling—their own house, their own space, their own room.

“What?” he finally replies, voice scratchy with sleep and disuse. A smile almost—just almost—pulls at your lips at the way he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You remember how it’d surprised you how cuddly he was the first time the comfort of a shared bed was available.

“You’re thinking,” you simply reply.

He pauses, and you wouldn’t for a second believe it’s in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” You squirm in his grasp, turning over, placing a tender hand on his cheek. You can just barely make out the outlines of his features with streetlight filtering in through the window. “And you’re not sleeping.”

“Well…when you get to my age, you won’t be sleeping that much either.” It comes out serious, in that Joel sort of way when you can never tell if he’s joking. It’s not entertaining to you even if it were.

“Joel,” you insist more forcefully this time. His long nights of restless sleep, bags forming under his eyes, tenseness with the young girl down the hall, are starting to get to you. “Talk to me,” you whisper. “Please.”

He grows quiet, only the sound of your breaths intermingling filling the room. There is something amiss in the household, like a secret withheld from you, one Joel and Ellie both share and despise, a wall driven between them.

His lips part like he’s going to say something, then they close once more. So close, but he deflects. “I’m okay, darlin’,” he promises, his voice softening, filled with a genuine gentleness as his hands creep into your hair. “I’m okay.”

You accept when he presses his lips to yours, slow, tender, as if you might shatter in his hands—a plead for you to let it go.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You met them on the outskirts of Kansas City.

You saw her first. Small, young, evidently scrappy as she tears through the shelves of a long abandoned convenience store. There’s a rage about her, her eyes perhaps slightly red, hands shaking.

But still something youthful—the naivety of it, the inexperience of it. She’s entirely too loud, entirely too unaware of the eyes on her. Too quick to assume nothing will come looking for her. They’re no longer in the safe central city.

A clang sounds from the back of the shop. You wished you hadn’t thought it, that maybe you’d conjured it up. You want to scream at her—protect her—she’s so small after all. But it’s not right. You should run. You should fucking run. But you don’t, paralyzed by this perverse show in front of you as she stills, frozen like a deer in headlights, an awful snarling sound coming out of the dark.

It seems to reverberate, her large doe eyes widening even further as she finally goes for her pack. Too slow. Without a thought, you raise your pistol, and it’s done.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You’d thought the world had gone black for a second.

All you’d heard was a shriek of a name from the girl, followed by a weight slamming into you, a broken cry that you don’t recognize as your own piercing the air. The cool metal in your hand is wrestled away, and as you scramble upright, as your vision clears, a taller figure stands over you.

For a few moments, you just stare at one another. There’s a wildness to his eyes, an unbridled paranoia that’ll strike if prodded too hard. They’ll want your bag—you’re sure of it.

But no. He places a hand on the young girl beside him, eyes never leaving yours, taking a wary step back, ready at any second to turn on his heel and leave.

“Give it back,” you say quietly, eyeing your gun, making every effort to hide the shake in your voice. You won’t survive without it. You might not even survive with it, a thought that continues to weigh heavily on your mind.

He only stares, an imperceptible shake of his head.

“I saved your goddam kid’s life,” you bite out. “If I wanted to shoot her, I would’ve.”

He looks at her for confirmation, and all she has to give him is a look, thought it evidently only partially helps your case.

“You want fuckin’ food or what?” You slowly grab your pack, and he tenses.

“Stop,” he says. So he talks. His voice is gruff, grinding; it makes you shiver.

You catch the young girl’s eye. You don’t miss the way she perks up at the mention. “Well, you guys must be hungry if you’re digging through empty cans like rats.”

“Joel,” she insists, resting a hand on his arm. He gives her a conflicted look; you know there’s nothing more urgent than a hungry kid.

His gaze refocuses on you, and you continue undoing the straps.

“Dump it out,” he orders, flicking the gun for emphasis.

You swallow, obeying, a few cans falling to the floor. You give them a look—see?

You stare back at him fully for the first time, conjuring up enough steel to match his own eyes. “Now put the fucking gun down.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Some days, Joel thinks you’re too soft for him.

Not weak, but soft.

It’s only become more evident with your time in Jackson. The opposite of him.

And it’s painful in a way, especially with you. You flourish here. In a way he doesn’t think he can. Ellie does too, but she’s just a kid; he’d always expected that. You, on the other hand, he always saw you as like him—an adult, for one, but also hardened.

It quickly becomes obvious however, that the years he has on you have done something more to him, something that maybe jarred something loose, that he wants to hide from you, the doubt already settling in with so much time to think, and after all, he feels like he’s broken, because all he seems to dream of nowadays are Fireflies and Ellie, and—

“Joel!”

He comes to as someone snaps their fingers in front of his face.

“You good?” you tease, a small smile on your lips as you lean over the table, placing a cup of coffee in front of him. His honest initial thought is that you have no right to look this good at this hour, dressed for the warmer day in a tank top and shorts that could certainly afford to be longer.

“Yeah,” he finally responds, turning at Ellie’s soft huff of laughter to his right, where she eats some scrambled eggs you’d cooked.

“Old man hearing,” she says under her breath, a smile twitching at her lips.

You don’t try to hide your soft laugh. “He’s trying, El’.”

He rolls his eyes, keeps the smile off his own face in a force of habit, but he’s never minded.

“You wanna work on some guitar after breakfast?” he asks her. It’s Saturday; they have the whole day. But she retreats into herself at the question, clearing her throat, the energy of the room seeming to contract.

“Maybe tomorrow,” she replies, a coldness emerging all of a sudden.

The room lapses into silence, and he clears his throat. You give the two of them a confused look, your own cup of coffee clutched between your hands, the small of your back settled against the counter.

He doesn’t want you to know.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Joel had put the gun down.

Henry did it for him. He’ll do it for you—a repentance.

There’s a sickening sense of anxiety in his stomach as you eat together; it all feels the same. But he refuses to believe it will be.

But Ellie’s taken just fine, the trauma of the last day seemingly washed away. But he knows it lies dormant, just beneath, ready to come bursting free when the moment is unfortunate enough.

He only half listens to your story, takes away the big points—fled the St. Louis QZ, you’re all alone. You’re scared. You hadn’t said that part, but he can feel it. It clouds the air around you, subtle, but there. He knows Ellie can sense it too with that uncanny ability of hers, the way she reads people.

He’s wary, of course, but he can just feel you. That you’re good. And it goes back in forth in his head, that maybe you’re actually good or that he’s simply distracted by how goddamn kind and pretty you are.

We’re going to Wyoming. It feels like they’ve barely known you when Ellie says it, but the statement doesn’t strike the dread in him he’d expected.

Instead, he watches you. The way your shoulders rise at first, a blink, as you process the meaning. The way they fall as a tension seems to leave your body, a belief that maybe you’d finally feel safe.

But before you can respond, he cuts in. “Let’s camp out here for the night.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

He takes first watch, but you don’t fall asleep.

He didn’t expect you to.

Ellie’s curled up near the corner, pack as her pillow, jacket as her blanket. You, however, sit against the wall, knees curled to your chest. It’s surprisingly cold, and he sees the way you shiver.

“She yours?” You finally break the silence, staring ahead at the wall.

He’s immediately reminded of the before—before the world had gone to hell—how the list of conversation topics with strangers always went to kids first once the weather had expired.

“My best friend’s kid,” he lies, fingers twitching on his rifle; he’d never given your gun back, but you seem unperturbed. “Before he…”

“I’m sorry,” you say softly.

He softens slightly at your genuine response to his lie, a fact he remains hidden externally.

“Does she help though?”

“What?”

You turn to look at him, head tiredly following the pane of the wall. “I see the way you treat her. You were someone’s father once.”

He doesn’t think he freezes at that. But he wants to. The words are painfully familiar, utterly agonizing as the memory of Henry and Sam and Sarah all come together with that one statement. He feels it’s written all over him—can people just see it? See how broken he is? You were someone’s father once.

You had someone once.

You loved someone once.

Something’s changed; it’s mutually sensed as you clear your throat, making a clumsy save. “So where’re you from?”

“Austin. You?”

“Chicago.”

It again lapses into silence, only the sound of Ellie’s soft breath, the visible cloud of your own breath in the night air.

He mutters your name, and you turn, eyes widening as he tosses you his jacket. It’s accepted graciously.

He thinks you’ve got a fire in your eyes and a survivor’s mindset, but a small part of him knows—you’re not going to make it out here on your own.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

“Can you stay here till I fall asleep?” Ellie asks quietly.

“Of course.”

She still has trouble sleeping on her own. You don’t blame her. It’d been hard at first, separating in the darkness because, for so long, darkness had been danger. For months, the three of you had always holed up in tiny, found shelters, sometimes with barely there walls, sometimes huddling together for warmth. Always someone keeping watch, someone to protect them.

You all had done the same the first week in Jackson—one room despite the spaciousness of the house. But you’d decided that it was time for Ellie to adjust. She’s a kid, her own space is what she deserves.

You’d helped her redecorate, and it was more fun than you thought it’d be, running around town to find things she liked. You vaguely remember that this is what it’d felt like before the outbreak, when there was time for frivolous things.

She settled well enough—but sometimes you stay, obviously. The lamp stays on as you sit in the chair by her bed, your current read in your lap. She’s undoubtedly too old for this, would probably be fine without it, but you submit, for in all honesty, you yourself are glad you don’t have to sleep alone.

You’re glad that he’s there—protecting you, always. Someone to feel when you think you’re slipping away from reality, struggling too much with the past.

You know she struggles too, but she looks so angelic when she’s sleeping. She certainly wasn’t meant for the life she’d been forced to endure, and the coolness about her since she and Joel had returned occasionally makes your chest tighten.

The nightmares certainly come. On bad nights, you’ll wake up to your mattress shifting, her rolling under the covers on your side of the bed, waking you just enough for you to roll closer to Joel and make room. Maybe it’s a little ridiculous, but it’s what everyone needs.

You remember the first time it’d happened. How you’d woken to her figure just standing in the dark, her hands shaking. Confusion was first inevitably, but you knew the look on her face. “Come here,” you’d whispered, offering her your hand.

You think that’s when you’d finally settled it with yourself—she’s yours.

Her breath growing louder and leveling out brings you out of your head, and per routine, you close your book, switch off the lamp. “Love you, El’.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You grew up on the Great Lakes.

You miss deep dish pizza.

You had a friend you fled with.

Those were some of the things Joel learned as the days dragged on, albeit mostly from you talking with Ellie, not him.

For the first time in his life maybe, Joel learns what it’s like to walk. Truly walk. The days are long, slow. His knees ache. It’s agonizing progress, with a lot of time to pass.

Mostly he listens at first. Ellie’s certainly glad she has someone new to talk to, someone undoubtedly more responsive. She laughs more—which he didn’t even think was possible—and he finds yours is equally bright and clear.

Sometimes he joins, when you and Ellie rope him in, goading him into revealing little things—movies he likes, his favorite food before the outbreak.

He has to admit it’s nice having someone else around, an extra set of eyes to share the responsibility. A part of him hates himself for letting his guard down, but a couple weeks in when he finally lets you take solo watch, he truly rests for the first time in weeks.

“You want some?”

He blinks, startling slightly as you say his name. You’d brought him food, part of a rabbit he’d gotten in the morning. He mutters a thank you, and to his surprise, you sit down next to him. Still, he eats in silence, as you fiddle with your own fingers, slender and delicate, something he focuses on more than he’d like.

“I wanted to say thank you,” you say all of a sudden, casting down your gaze.

“For what?”

“You know what.” You’re hunched over, almost as if you’re ashamed, your throat bobbing as your eyelashes flutter. He wants to rest his hands on you and ease the pain away. “I was looking for…people.”

“‘s alright,” he responds, the usual monotone he forces into his voice. “No one can make it out here on their own.”

You let out a short, bitter laugh that catches him off guard. “I’m sure you could.”

He’s silent for a long time at that, wrestling over what he should say next. The fire crackles quietly in the distance, Ellie’s silhouette resting near it. “No,” he finally admits. “She saved my life, y’know.”

He knows you hear it, with the way your breath hitches. There’s a silent question on your lips, one he’s thankful you don’t ask.

“And I’d rather she not have to do it again.” There’s a sharp edge to it. He himself doesn’t really know what he’s trying to say, but it lingers in the back of his mind—I’ll protect you, but you better protect her.

“You’ve done well, y’know,” you say softly, changing the topic. Still tender, still strong; you’re not intimidated by him.

“What do you mean?”

“I think she’s a good judge of character, I can feel it.” You draw you knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself. “And she likes you.”

Something’s amiss. Something in him feels off when he looks at you and you don’t even spare him a glance back.

“I don’t know where you got her Joel, but I know it wasn’t from your friend. And she had no one before. And she likes you.”

He says your name, but you talk right past him.

“Kids like that can get overly attached, I’m sure you know. But you’re good for her.”

It’s only been three fucking weeks. He likes to think you know nothing, but he knows you’re right. You can see right through him. Just like Ellie in that sense, and it makes something in him alight behind that cold exterior.

But he doesn’t think of you like he thinks of Ellie.

And again, as if you can see through him, the two of you sit in silence—time for his thoughts to simmer, for your pull to grow stronger.

Your jacket’s off, drying after being washed, and you’re just in a tank top, for it’s warmer tonight.

He likes to think of himself as beyond this, but it still piques his interest, the way it hugs your form, leaving little to the imagination, but still leaving plenty for him to imagine.

It’s not the first time, though. You’d always piqued his interest, even before he fully trusted you—hell, maybe since the moment you’d regained your bearings and looked up at him in that dilapidated convenience store.

At first, he thought it was because he hadn’t had someone in so long, that maybe you were just pretty and young and new and practically placed in front of him all the goddamn time, but as more time passes, he doesn’t think it’s just that, he thinks it’s you. So kind with Ellie, so kind with him, soft, but strong, perhaps what he aspires to be on some fundamental level.

And sometimes—like now—he thinks of how soft you’d be, how you’d sound, the way you’d respond to his touch. He imagines how your voice would change, high pitched and girlish, how his name would sound from your lips with a little extra breathiness and—

Fuck, he can’t do this next to you.

He grimaces at the fact that you’re still looking off into the night beside him in the comfortable enough silence, completely innocent in all this.

He blinks, standing with a quiet groan, needing to get away. “I’m gonna go check on Ellie.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You wake with a gasp, startling out of your sleep.

It’s dark, the silence unsettling all of a sudden, the fact a corner lies in shadows making you uneasy.

Your head pounds with a crippling fear, and you sit up, massaging your temples. You have to look to your side to make sure he’s still there, and it feels routine at this point.

The way you compulsively get out of bed to walk down the hall and make sure Ellie’s still there, safe and secure from the world you’d always tried to protect her from. It’s the only thing that keeps you sane when you wake with a chill in your bones.

Back in your room, you climb back under the covers, your heart still pounding in your chest a little faster than normal as you lie on your side and look at the sleeping man next to you.

He only ever seems fully at peace when he’s like this. Your eyes flutter shut—you force them to—as you nestle against him. An arm comes around you, the only indication he’s awake. He doesn’t say anything, just shows his comfort through actions.

You take a deep breath, but you’re still wide awake, too overly conscious of the calm of this situation in this moment, when you’ve just woken from visions of quite the opposite.

It feels ridiculous in your head, but these are nights you want to wake him and whisper, Joel, are we in a dream?

And you just want him to reassure you.

But you never do, content enough to let him sleep, to calm yourself and push through it because that’s what life is like now.

It’s safe, and it’s real.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

There’s a pureness to it as you watch Ellie’s eyes light up, as the sweetness overtakes her tongue.

The three of you had come across a honeysuckle bush by the abandoned house you’re staying in for the night. The bush is the first one you’d seen in years really, and you’d broken a flower open to let her taste the nectar.

It tastes like summer to you, and she savors the sweetness her body has been so deprived of.

“You take off this green part at the end,” you explain, showing her. “Then you pull the little tail thing out. But make sure you’re gentle so you don’t break it.”

She copies you, delightfully tasting another drop from a new flower.

“Tastes like sugar,” she remarks, a bright smile on her face.

You laugh at the contemplative expression on her face. “It is sugar.”

She cocks her head slightly, and picks another flower. “Makes sense.”

“Well, you’ve got claim on the whole bush, El’. Eat up.”

You make the short steps back into the house, where Joel’s standing at the window looking over a map. You can feel his eyes lingering on you.

“She’s definitely gonna pick that bush clean,” you remark, rifling through your pack for something to eat.

Your hands pause as you hear his heavy footsteps behind you. “Well, that’ll keep her preoccupied for a while,” he says quietly, and you gasp as he spins you around, capturing your lips with his.

Your eyes flutter shut, melting into him. It’s been nearly two months now—things have undoubtedly elevated.

It was maybe a few weeks ago when it’d started, when Ellie had been sleeping. Somehow the conversation had turned to the days before, when life was normal, safe. When loved ones were numerous, and sleep came easy.

But Joel had implied something, something that explained the pain in his eyes, and you hadn’t pushed it. You knew it would come later.

But it made something in you twinge, the way his hands shook.

And you’d wanted to make him feel better.

You’d seen the way his gaze tended to linger on you, the way you couldn’t ignore him either. The way pinpricks seemed to run across your skin whenever he touched you. The way both of you would stay a little too long when he offered you a hand when hiking rough terrain.

When you’d kissed him, he pulled away like he’d been burnt, his eyes wide, his guard thoroughly broken for maybe the first time in years.

But he’d returned, forceful, the dominating presence Joel always was, consuming all of you. The moment you let out a quiet moan, you knew you were a goner. Surely, he was too, the way he’d seemed so inherently gentle for once.

And it’s no different now as he wraps his arms around you waist, caging you against the table. It makes you rub your thighs together as his lips move to your neck.

You yelp as he pulls you with him to a room further in the house, lest Ellie decide to come bursting in, and it’s there that the intensity of the moment escalates.

You feel so surrounded by him, smothered by this feeling, and sometimes it’s precious to just forget about everything, to just return to this base need.

There’re no hard and fast rules to this, no defined feelings or commitments, and it’s freeing.

He unbuttons your jeans, slips a hand in, drags his fingers through your slick folds.

You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. His damn voice always gets you; it’s no different now. “Shhh…I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

There’re drying flowers hanging from your windowsill. A small vegetable garden sprouting in the backyard.

It’s the first time you’ve had the opportunity to create a normal, mundane life as an adult, and after everything that’s passed, it feels nice to play homemaker some days.

You already have more than you ever imagined—a growing set of clothes, a collection of plants, even more recently you’d obtained a bottle of flowered hair oil.

Sometime there’s still that doubt though, that anxiety that all this is an illusion that’ll disintegrate at the slightest touch—but at the end of the day, you’re happy.

You think Ellie is too. She goes to school, and she actually likes it. You’d expected it though—she was always so curious. She has acquaintances, friends, and maybe a little crush, but you’re still trying to weed that one out of her.

But that brings you to Joel, and for once, he’s the one that worries you more than Ellie. It seems like he only ever lives in his head some days, unaware of what they have around them. In all honesty, it reminds you of the first days, when you were just strangers, at a tentative injunction of trust.

Some days, it makes you doubt all of this. That maybe this isn’t as great as you see it, that maybe this whole place is a cheap attempt at a remake of before—after all, he’s the one that had truly known the before.

The only days you remember are like an endless summer haze—warm, blissful. You remember sun, fruit, water, friends. You hadn’t yet been old enough for the ordinary world to do you any true harm, and you’d never imagined it could.

But he knew it. He’d had her. And there’s no doubt you haven’t missed the fact of the parallels between now and then for him.

His coldness seems to bleed, to your doubts, to Ellie—or maybe just to you because now you’re really beginning to suspect it’d originated with him and Ellie, when they were gone. There’s an energy about them now that makes you just want to pace in circles till you can forget about it, till maybe you can think everything is normal again.

She’s never the usual chatterbox when he’s around. He less and less seems to express that deep warmth you know he’s more than capable of, and it worries you.

“What’s wrong?”

He jumps as you put your hands on his shoulders. Some days are better, some days are worse. Today is the latter.

He’s bent over a technical book he’d borrowed from the library. “The electrical wiring in the basement.”

You huff, falling onto the couch beside him; Ellie’s gone for the day. “Very funny.”

He doesn’t even turn to you.

“For real, Joel.”

Maybe he just needs someone to get him out of his head.

Maybe he just needs a distraction—there’s always too much time to think here.

“Hey,” you murmur, and when he turns, you surge forward, pulling him into a kiss. It’s a desperate thing filled with one idea. I love you. Please….

He groans into your mouth, pulling you against him, into his lap. This isn’t what you had in mind, but he’s decided. The idea of how he moves you so easily still makes you shiver, and a tremble wracks through your body as he finds that sensitive spot on your neck.

Maybe he just needs to feel better.

You don’t even know anymore, can’t even muster the energy to think of it further, so you submit, letting him pull your shirt off you.

But in one last second of resistance, you pull away, glancing to the side. You hate when he gets like this, so avoidant, turning what you’d intended into something else, and you’ve tried and tried and tried and you just want him to open up and you can’t. You love him and hate him and want him, but it’s difficult to even look him in the eye.

“What’s wrong?” he says, voice strained, slightly grinding up against you where you straddle him.

You know damn well what’s wrong, you want to say. But instead you shake your head. Forget about it.

You climb off his lap, and his objection turns into a groan as you drop to your knees, undoing his belt.

Maybe he just needs to feel better.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Your jaw drops the first time you see Jackson.

It feels unreal, like one of those cute Western towns you used to ski at with your family as a child.

You go about it in a haze, in awe, but anxious. There’s more people than the three of you have seen in months—strangers, and your eyes dart around as you walk.

You’d met Tommy, Maria, already scolded Ellie once or twice for her language.

But the house they give you hits you the most. One of those standard suburban homes that feels too familiar to you. Too homely, for it reminds you of everything that’s been lost. You think Joel feels the same, the way he’d paused in the doorway, just for a split second before continuing.

There’s marks of someone else’s life in here. You wonder what happened to them.

That evening, you sit on the bed as the sound of the shower runs in the background. Your hair is still wet, and a lamp illuminates the room in a soft glow. The sheets are so soft, and it’s warm for once.

It’s too much to process, like the old world has just been forcefully shocked from your system, and somehow you weren’t ready for everything to be okay all of a sudden, and you don’t know why exactly, but you draw your knees to your chest and tremble.

It’s agonizing, this reminder. That maybe this is what could’ve been all along if the world hadn’t gone to shit. That maybe you’d still be on the water, that you’d have a family, that maybe you’d see your parents every weekend.

You take in deep shuddering breaths, forcing yourself to calm as the door to the bathroom opens. You hear him pause before a weight sinks onto the bed beside you. He pulls you into his arms.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he murmurs.

You exhale, resting against him. He’s so warm. “It’s just a lot.”

That’s all he’s going to get, and apparently he decides he’s fine with that. “I know.”

The silence is eerie as he leans against the headboard, your head on his shoulder. You can feel his heart beating in his chest as you stare at a framed picture on the wall—a wedding photo of two strangers from another life.

“Did you tell her yet?” you ask quietly.

He tenses. “No.”

When he’d told you his decision to have Tommy take Ellie, you didn’t know what to say. You already knew it was a lot for him to process, that he didn’t take it lightly—he’d already walked in with his shoulders hunched, a broken look in his eyes.

Your first instinct had been an objection—you don’t really agree with his reasons, but at the end of the day, you decide to respect what he wants.

“You should tell her now,” you say quietly. A small part of you knows that you should go too, that she was no longer just Joel’s, but your fear wins over the selfishness in you.

He nods, gently lowering you to the mattress. The door closes as he steps out.

You inhale the scent of freshly washed sheets, and try to think of anything else. If you dwell on it, you think you’ll go yank Joel from Ellie’s room and beg him to change his mind. She was both of yours after all, she stays with the two of you.

Except she’s really not, and the reality stings.

But you perk up, propping yourself up on your elbows as you hear yelling. They’re fighting.

Joel’s voice, even muffled through walls, sends a shiver down your spine. Then a shrieking slew of words from Ellie that you can’t quite pick out.

And you startle as a door slams.

Joel bursts into the bedroom, and your eyes widen as his gaze settles on you, and for a split second, you think you sense something dangerous.

“Did you fuckin’ tell her about Sarah?” His voice is shaking, barely controlled from a yell, and it scares you, and you’d never seen him this mad.

“What? Of course not,” you insist, fully sitting up and crossing your arms in some sad attempt at self-comfort.

“Then how the fuck did she find out?”

You know he has a hard time with her, exponentially harder than he has with you. He’d never lost someone like you, but he’d definitely lost someone so completely like Ellie.

The question goes unanswered, and he fumes, sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

You rest on your knees, moving slowly, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Joel…” you whisper.

He mutters something under his breath and shakes his head. “It’s done.”

And you watch helplessly as he turns off the lamp and climbs under the covers. Conversation over.

He lies on his side with his back turned to you, and you stare at the door for a moment. You want to go to her, hold her, but it’s done. It’s over. There’s no use in rubbing salt in the wound.

So you lie down too, tentatively sliding closer to Joel, and you wrap an arm around his waist. The fact that he doesn’t push you away is what tells you it’s welcome. It’s so small, so small it could be mistaken, but you think he trembles.

And you slide a hand up his body, past his neck, to his cheek. You find the wetness you’d been suspecting, and tenderly, you wipe the tear away.

You don’t say anything, he doesn’t want you to.

You just go to sleep.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

“I did the wrong thing.”

You groggily rub your eyes. It’s six in the morning, the sun is beginning to rise. He lays wide awake beside you.

His dread seems to roll over the whole room. “Maybe,” you whisper.

“She’s scared,” he says.

“I think she’s always been scared.”

He makes a noise somewhat evocative of pain as he sits up, massaging his temples.

“I can’t…” he bites out.

“Can’t what?”

“She wants it to be me—us, actually.”

“Of course she does.” You sit up too, resting a hand on his back.

You have a lot of thoughts running through your mind, but in some terrible avoidance, you cling to the idea that this is his choice. They’d started this whole thing, they finish this whole thing.

His hand twitches. “Fuck it,” he mumbles, getting out of bed, and tossing his pack on the dresser, his choice obviously made.

It feels right.

“When are we leaving?” you ask quietly, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed.

“You’re staying.”

You freeze, your back still turned to him as you process his words, wondering if you’d heard him right. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says. “You’re staying here.”

“What the fuck do you mean I’m staying here?” You jump to your feet, glaring at him.

“It’s two weeks,” he insists. “Easy and quick.”

“Then why the fuck can I not come?”

“‘cause it ain’t safe.”

“But you just said—“

“Stop it,” he interjects, uttering your name with something menacing to it. A warning.

“Joel,” you plead, walking over to him, where he stands his ground.

“You’re safer here,” he says, softening slightly as he forces himself to take a breath. “Shit happens out there; I’d rather at least one of you be safe.”

“But—“

“Please.” He firmly cradles your face in his hands. His gaze on you is unwavering. You couldn’t break away if you wanted to. “I’ve never asked you for anything,” he begs, “and I’m asking you for something right now.”

You tremble, staring at him. He’s waiting for you to say something.

And finally, you swallow and nod, a pang in your chest at the thought of being left behind. “Okay.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Two weeks pass in a haze.

Day fifteen is anxiety-filled. Day sixteen is excruciating.

You can’t be alone. Again.

So you throw yourself into work to forget. You work in the gardens by day, clean the large house by night. You sweep the floors, clean up twenty years worth of dust, erase the remnants of the last occupants.

The night scares you, alone in the big house, and many are sleepless as you toss and turn, ultimately sitting downstairs till you fall asleep on the couch.

Tommy sends people out after about two and a half weeks. Nothing.

Just be patient.

“Please…” you whisper some nights. You don’t know if you’re talking to yourself, or them, or someone above.

The fear is debilitating, makes your head pound some days. On the third week mark, you give in for the first time and cry. In bed, your face buried in the pillows as you sob. You’d never let them see you like this, so shouldn’t you stop?

You can’t.

If Ellie comes back, you decide you’re going to tell her she’s yours, that she always will be. You’ll tell Joel you love him

You can’t lose another family.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Cordyceps grows in the brain.

He feels like he wants to hurl as he stares at the tile floor.

“Take him out to the highway. Leave him with his pack.”

Her. All that matters is her.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You’re done.

You can’t stand it anymore. You feel like you’re either going to scream or burst into tears.

There’s a tenseness going around the house today, not just a coldness.

They’d fought yesterday—Ellie and Joel—she’d said something rude, he’d yelled something about ‘showing a little goddamn respect.’

Everyone seems on edge, including you, and you know one thing for sure—this isn’t the family you’d found on the road.

You feel alone, stuck between some conflict no one will tell you of, and it’s slowly breaking you. Utopia gives too much time to think, and the well-functioning community around you drives you insane, for the situation at home is quite the opposite.

And Ellie also refuses to tell you anything—sometime it kills you how similar they are in some ways, and you can’t even count how many times you asked Joel about it.

This must be the millionth, as you stand before him, in the foyer for some reason, where this had all started.

He looks tired, and for a second, you think he’s going to walk out the door, leave you hanging. Again.

“You’re gonna tell me right now what happened,” you say, voice dangerously low. There’s a dish towel still in your hand, some mundane kitchen cleanup turned tense, one last avoidant flight before it could be avoided no longer.

He’s done pretending. “Leave it,” he hisses, turning around to walk off into the depths of the house.

You lunge out, grabbing his wrist. “Joel!”

He stops, still a modicum of respect left, roughly jerking your grip off of him. You stare back at him, a heat rising to the back of your eyes. He can be so cold.

“I deserve to know,” you bite out, your voice shaking.

“Will you just listen to what I tell you for once in your goddamn life?” he says, voice just a little too loud to be considered a normal volume.

Your eyes widen, fingers twisting painfully into the fabric in your hand as you shake your head. “All I’ve ever done is listen to you since you got back. And I’ve been waiting, Joel. I’ve been fucking waiting.”

Tears poke at your eyes, and he opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let it escape.

“I don’t know if you really realize this, but you’re my partner and she’s ours. I don’t know why we keep pretending we’re not, but that’s the fucking truth, and whatever the hell is going on between the two of you needs to include me.”

He falters, lip parting before closing again. He rests a hand on the railing of the stairs, like he’s having trouble keeping himself up, like the weight on his shoulders has just increased tenfold. “You don’t want to know,” he says quietly.

“You can’t keep this from me,” you exclaim, voice cracking. “You can’t keep this from me after you left me.”

His head snaps up at that. “I didn’t leave you—“

“Yes, you did, you fucking left me, Joel!” you exclaim, tears finally falling. You fall quiet, finally aware of how much pent up anger you have left over, how scared you’d been.

You grab onto the banister, burying your head in your hands. You become acutely aware of his nearer presence, as he wraps his arms around you, leading you to the couch.

“You can’t leave me and then not tell me what happened,” you say quietly into his chest.

He exhales, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry, sweet girl,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I can’t stand it like this,” you gasp, shaking your head.

“I know, sweet girl. I know,” he murmurs, wiping your tears away. “Don’t cry,” he mutters, hardly audible, his face twisted in something like pain.

It’s silent for a few moments, his chest rising and falling in something intense.

And then he tells you.

Cordyceyps grows in the brain.

I couldn’t let them.

“I killed them all,” he whispers. But his voice remains unwavering. You don’t think he regrets it. “I don’t know what happened…I just couldn’t let them.”

You let out a shuddering breath. You don’t want to even ask the number—twenty? Thirty?

“And then…then Marlene—she said Ellie would’ve wanted it…but I killed her too.”

Joel looks out the window instead of at you, into the street where people walk, completely oblivious to what had happened.

“And then, I lied to Ellie, told her they’d given up, that I’d rescued her from raiders attacking.”

It comes together as he continues, his hand grasping yours as you trace circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

“And I keep sayin’ to myself there’s no way she would’ve wanted that, and I keep sayin’ I would’ve respected her choice if she did, but I would’ve done the same. I would’ve done the same fuckin’ thing a million times over. I couldn’t let that happen to her—she’s just a kid.”

He hasn’t cried since the night before he and Ellie had left, and that had been in darkness. It’s light now, and he tries to hide. But it’s too much, the pull of the conflict on him, your still remaining tear streaks.

“And she knows you lied,” you say plainly, a confirmation.

He nods. “I know she fuckin’ knows.”

He turns, looking straight at you, and the fear in his eyes makes you swallow. It’s so foreign. Joel is never afraid.

“What if she hates me forever?” he asks, voice cracking on the last syllable.

You shake your head, a silent reassurance. It’s your turn to pull him against you. “She won’t.”

You don’t think Joel has ever let you hold him, ever let you treat him with the tenderness he deserves.

“You did the right thing, Joel,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hair.

Other considerations don’t even occur to you because this is right. It’s right to you because she’s yours—and no one takes what’s yours. No one hurts what’s yours—not even some stupid delusion of guilt, and you hold him as if you can soothe the pain away.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, in silence, against each other. At some point, he falls asleep, his head in your lap, a much needed rest.

You stare out the window, only the sound of his breath in the background. It’s green outside. Beautiful.

The sound of the doorknob turning brings your attention, Ellie walking in.

She looks at you, then Joel, that coldness developing in her eyes with the latter.

“Ellie,” you say as she’s about to dart up the stairs.

She freezes. “Yeah?”

“Let’s talk tonight.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

They return to you a month later.

Haggard, tired, lacking one less horse than they’d left with.

He wants to sob the first time he sees you again. But he doesn’t. Lets you do it for the both of them instead as you collapse in his arms, as he reassures you, as a million words rush out of your mouth, the flow of anxiety that had accumulated over the weeks. Your other arm is tightly around Ellie. “We’re okay, baby,” he murmurs. “We’re okay.”

He just wants to forget this first day back, for when he’s not in Ellie’s presence, he lets go, let’s that doubt creep in just the tiniest bit.

You’d revitalized the house, started a garden out back, and it feels like years had passed while they were out there. All except with you.

When night comes, he wants to drown in your presence, drown in your eyes, feel you, remember what home is like again—it requires three of you, together in one place.

The picture of the month he puts together for you is jumbled, vague—he doesn’t know what Ellie tells you, but you’d sat with her in her room for a while. There’s already an underlying sense of change, and he’d rather focus on the things that remained.

You. Only you, in his arms.

The bedroom’s been repainted, the curtains new. You’d rearranged too, the bed and dresser moved around. But now there’re undoubtedly signs of you—there’s clothes in the drawers, a bouquet of flowers on the side table, a bottle of perfume in the bathroom that he remembers smelling on you.

“Do you like the room?”

He turns from where he’d already been looking at one of the dresser drawer tracks that stuck.

“Of course,” he replies, throwing his jacket into the hamper. It’s dark out already, that same lamp illuminating the room, but it’s warmer now, the lightbulb changed.

“Go shower,” you tell him, a small smile twitching at your lips. “Then come to bed.”

He savors the hot water, but doesn’t take too long. He doesn’t know if you were really insinuating what he thought you were, but he hadn’t asked—he supposed he was fine with the surprise.

He’d said he wanted to drown in you, and it’s as if you can read his mind when you push him back, into the freshly changed sheets.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, your body resting on his. The admittance is not the first, but one of few, and he takes it in equally, murmuring it back.

He wastes no time in getting your clothes off, taking a second to admire, for you’ve gained some much needed weight, the dip in your waist and the curve of your hips much more pronounced.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs against your skin, almost chasing you as you pull away to unbutton his softer flannel sleep shirt—he decides it was a waste of time putting it on in the first place.

Honestly, he’d barely looked in the mirror, so he forgets. He’s only reminded when you freeze, your eyes dead set on the gnarly scar in his lower right abdomen.

He shakes his head, meets your eyes, pleading with you. Don’t.

But—

Please.

And you oblige, dipping down to press a chaste kiss to the scar tissue.

“Come back.” He pulls you back up towards him, his hands wandering. You’re so soft, both your body and the way you seem to mould to him. Too delicate for him, too precious, but still, all he wants is you.

You giggle at his groan when you slip your hand past the waistband of his boxers; the corners of his lips twitch at the bright sound that leaves you lips.

But it turns to a gasp as your grip tightens, his body tensing in anticipation.

“Relax, baby,” you whisper.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

She’s lying on the bed when you come in, on her stomach, a comic clutched in her hands.

She scowls when she sees you, but there’s that apprehension hiding behind those doe eyes of hers.

“You’re not in trouble,” you assure her as you sit down in your usual chair near her bed.

“I don’t give a fuck if I’m in trouble,” she bites out, sitting up cross legged.

“Sure,” you merely reply. Her scowl seems to deepen further at your nonchalant response—you’re not Joel, she’s never gotten a rise out of you.

You shift uncomfortably, for the room feels stifling despite the open window. The tension in your shoulders betrays your reasoning for waiting till night.

You take a deep breath, your palms flat on your lap. “Do you know what happened?”

She stays silent for a long moment. “Let me guess…it was for my own good, you’re gonna say.”

You flinch at that biting tone, letting out a sigh. You push her to the side as you instead sit on the bed beside her. “El’…,” you warn, looking her dead in the eye. She subtly gulps. She’s not used to this intensity from you. “Do you know what happened?”

“I know he lied,” she says, looking down. “I know it.”

She was always softer with you than with Joel, meeting you where you were at. You think it’s where she really wants to be.

“I remember…falling asleep, but they never told me anything.” Her voice shakes as she implies the thoughts that have been running through her head for so long.

A cool breeze blows in through the open window.

“But he fucking lied to me,” she says quietly. “Why? We’d gone so far. I…I could’ve fixed everything.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, your chest twisting painfully.

“Ellie….” You reach a hand out, tilting her chin up to make her look at you. “Sometimes we do things that….” You pause, struggling to find the words. “Sometimes we do things for each other that we don’t—“

“Mean? Mean to do? Things we don’t mean to be selfish?” Her interjection startles you, those doe eyes of hers suddenly seeming so dark.

You let out a quiet groan, massaging your forehead. But she’s not done.

“So you’re taking his side? I—“

“There’re no fucking sides here, Ellie!” you exclaim. She falls quiet.

When you take her hand in yours, you can feel the slight shake.

“Look, I don’t know if what he did was right,” you say softly. “No one here is expecting you to pretend everything is okay and no one’s expecting you to believe everything will be fine, but I just need you to understand….”

She just stares at you, a silent command to keep going.

“I’m sorry, El’.” You wipe away a stray tear with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry for everything, but at the end of the day, what matters is that you’re here. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I…I would’ve done the same.”

She deflates slightly at that. You don’t know how to interpret it.

“You know why?” you ask.

She pauses. “Why?” she finally croaks out.

“Because that’s what parents do.”

She shakes, her own tears falling, freezing up as if already worrying she’d heard it wrong.

“He told me what you said, y’know. That you had to do this, after everything you’ve been through and done. And…and I know you’ve never had anyone, El’. But I promise,”—your grip on her hand tightens—“you do now. And I want you to know that your life is worth more than some bullshit cure that probably wouldn’t have even worked.”

She’s stone still, the only movement her chest rising and falling with some unspoken urgency. And it takes you by surprise when she lunges forward, throwing her arms around you. It’s so unlike her, but the shock becomes irrelevant when you begin to feel her trembles, something twisting painfully at her reaction—the strength of which is a testament to how alone she’s always been.

“I love you, El’,” you whisper. “We love you. I hope you know that.”

Her face is buried in the crook of your neck, as your eyes fall to the doorway. You’d sensed his presence, somewhere between your insistent words, and he leans against the frame. You meet his eye, and he lingers, eyes on the two of you. There’s an inexplicable warmth to him.

“Joel.” You call him to attention, gesturing at the chair near the bed.

She jerks away at the realization, eyeing him warily. You keep an arm around her shoulders, easing away the tension.

He settles, that gaze of his always unwavering, intense.

“Ellie,” he says quietly.

She slowly leans into you, wiping her eyes. You give her side a small squeeze, a reassurance.

His eyes flutter for a moment, hands clasped tightly together. “I’m sorry,” he finally says, and for the first time, he looks away, head bowed in something like shame. “I couldn’t let them.” A direct mirror to what he’d told you earlier.

She seems as if she doesn’t know how to react, her head just laying on your shoulder. She looks tired; you’ll have to insist she go straight to bed after.

“And I’m sorry for lying,” he continues, fingers twisting together. “I keep looking for a reason, but I just…I couldn’t lose you. I just couldn’t….”

There’s a frustration to it, a struggle to convey what he means exactly. He makes the same switch as you—sitting on her other side, bridging the divide.

“We’re safe here, Ellie.”

You drop your hand down from her shoulder, grasping his.

“You deserve to know life like this.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

He’ll never get tired of that laugh of hers.

It’s maybe the brightest thing he’s heard in twenty years.

Some days he feels like he’s drowning in white, drowning in this purity. White sheets, white clouds, white-capped mountains—clean, beautiful. And he lets go. It’s a self-forced surrender, a difficult thing he thinks he’s finally overcoming.

“Here.” He kneels to the ground, pulling out a small switchblade to cut Ellie a small branch of blackberries. She still has some in her mouth, that bright smile of hers. It’s the first time she’s ever had them.

The adjustment can be harsh some days, shocking. But things improve, the normalcy, the slow mend of tensions—it certainly helps that you seem to take to this better than him.

“Don’t go through the whole bush, El’,” you call out, weeding the garden on the other side of the yard, a white-flowered honeysuckle bush to your right that Ellie equally adores. “You’re gonna give yourself a stomachache.”

A smile tugs at his lips as he watches her roll her eyes slightly. “Yes, mom.”

It’s in that usual sarcastic Ellie manner, but he swears he sees your nimble fingers pause for a moment before you continue your work. It makes him pause too.

“Better listen to her, kid.”

She nods, only snatching the switchblade from his hand to cut another small segment. He shakes his head, barely restraining a small chuckle as he walks nearer to you, sitting on the small garden bench you’d recently acquired, watching Ellie from a distance now.

“She’s getting better,” you say, softly enough that she can’t hear.

He only swallows and nods. For him, at least, some days it’s better, others the guilt is overwhelming, a deluge of thoughts that he can’t quite shake. She reminds him so much of someone else undoubtedly, and deep down, the thought of how he’d hurt her is agonizing. She’s so young, has so much right to be untouched by this world.

“Hey…” you say softly, bringing him back to the moment, where you’d come to sit beside him. “What is it?” He instinctively leans into your hand on his cheek.

He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. “Nothing, I just….” His voice trails off.

“I know,” you merely answer, resting your head on his shoulder. It’s one of those lazy summer days, a little too warm to run around town, just right to simply bask in the sun.

It’s all you and her—it’s why he wants to stay. Stay here. Stay out of his head. Stay present in this world that’s not completely broken yet. One to bring him back, one to solidify it. He doesn’t know what he’d do without both of you.

He remembers clearly the words you’d whispered a few nights ago, in bed, in darkness. The night of his apology to Ellie, her cold reaction. Not one for poetics, he still remembers, the feel of your hand curled around his wrist, the subtle disturbance of your breath, your words that will forever stick with him.

“We’re here now, Joel. We’re safe.”

He remembers his own breathing sounding labored almost, the way his hand curled around the back of your neck had gently tightened.

“I know you’re not used to this, but this is the only thing left, Joel, and then we’re on the other side.” You’d leaned forward, a small, chaste kiss. “Only love can save us now.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Taglist: @dark-academics-and-florals, @theultimateslashgirl @princessxkenobi @djjarins @jitterbugs927 @whoviayanesha @iamskyereads @dessinemoiunehistoire @damerondala @laura-naruto-fan1998 @something-tofightfor @mandosmistress @hoodedbirdie @ginger-swag-rapunzel

A/N: This is the longest thing I’ve ever written (by far!), and honestly, I really love it. I haven’t written in a while, so I’m a little nervous, but this has been brewing in my mind since the finale aired—I really hope you guys enjoyed. Thanks for reading 💕

Masterlist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us show #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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yourpsicodelicbitch · 11 months

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astro observations that i founded in my notes

*birth chart placements

Picture from Pinterest

taurus moon: they’re so CALM and so comforting. my histrionic energy 🤪 at first didn’t understand but just accept it. Sometimes I have the urge to smack them or shake their shoulders so they can “wake up”. They seem high, in a way they seem to accept things as how they come -but I really doubt it- (it’ll resonate more on the ones with mercury 12H at pisces degree) -I only know them for like 2 weeks-. THEY LOOK SO FUCKING COMFORTABLE OR CALM. When they’re panicking they don’t rise their voice BUT I’ve seen another taurus moon with a lot of cancer and Leo placements that’s the total opposite - I wanted to point it out bc it surprised me how tf they look so in tune with everything but at the same time their expression say otherwise-. UPDATE: she left. And that makes me wanna point out another thing. (she also has a pisces rising) —->

Pisces risings ALWAYS -idk how to bring this up- make their actions seem irresponsable or the situations they go trough are really unexpected. The other day, out of nowhere, a friend disappeared and told me she wasn’t going to stay. She didn’t specified anything. Too suden. They act or -I want to believe- their life makes them take decisions that can seem irresponsable, impulsive or egoist. I knew her for fourth weeks and then she disappeared, not specifying what was the situation. Everyone was asking me what happened and she left me the weight? the responsibility of telling everyone something I couldn’t tell (bc she told me it was a secret and I didn’t told them exactly). My ex best friend is a pisces rising and he always made decisions that affected not only him but their loved ones in a devastating way. He always passed the barrier of limits only bc he wanted and he could. He knew how much weight the situations held and even knowing that he minimized them. I’m not saying every pisces rising is like that. BC THEYRE NOT. Don’t generalize or take my observation as a way of justifying others actions. It’s complex. That’s based on what I observed, it’s completely subjective. So pls don’t take advantage of this and benefit yourself to hate on others. UPDATE: She changed careers, to major in communication to medicine. THAT’S A WHOLE CHANGE. SHE JUST TOLD ME. (with majority of air elements)

I’ve noticed that pisces risings are always questioning if they look good physically. They ask “Do I look good?” and if you say yes, they’ll be like “What do you mean that I look good? Specify. Do I look good meh or do I look good good?”

If you order an Aquarius and Capricorn prominent person, they will not do what you ordered them. They don’t like to be told what to do, to not be able to process and question that order and simply bc you’re telling them what to do, you’re demanding them. They only can do THAT -order people-, if you’re not informed 🙄

oN tHE otHeR hAnD, if you order a Sagittarius prominent person to do something, they will not do it but not bc they’re mad at you, like the case of Saturn rulers. No, they’ll not do it. They’ll joke about it and ignore it bc they don’t feel free, to not be allowed or able to choose. And the most important thing: bc they can.

The life of people with Venus 7H turns around relationships, romantic relationships? A really lovely friend I have always suffer bc he gives too much of his energy on relationships, friendship, every type/aspect. He came out of his almost 2 years relationship -he was very mature about it, also he was really broken when it happened obviously but he knew how to overcome it and im proud of him 😭-, now, time have passed but not too much -I’m not judging him. I didn’t thought about it till now, 3-2 months😟🤪😚- and he already told me he is starting to like someone and that he kissed her and I’m proud of him BUT HOW TF YOU LIKE SOMEONE SO EASILY AND START SOMETHING WITH SOMEONE IN A ROMANTIC PURE WAY. IM LITERALLY SAYING ROMANTIC BC HES REALLY LEAL, ALWAYS THINK TOO MUCH ABOUT THEIR PARTNER/LOVED ONES ETC. I FUCKING BLOCK ALL MY FEELINGS LIKE HOW DO YOU ENTER A SOMETHING SMOOTHLY WITHOUT KILLING YOURSELF THINKING THAT YOU CANT HAVE CONTROL OF THE SITUATION OR AAAAAAA

I think I know why my friend with scorpio moon don’t like my other friend with moon and mercury 12H. Scorpio always likes to control the situation, what’s happening, to know everything and to everyone to know nothing but what they want others to know -except for their loved ones?no-. 12H is synonym of “hidden”, they always hide something…-traumatic- that a scorpio may find it often uncomfortable. Why? They don’t know what’s happening easily, they know the other is hiding something. They can’t control it. They have to make an effort. They don’t like when people on purpose hide something. Scorpio moons are intuitive ASF. They don’t like your fake smile. My scorpio moon friend told me “I don’t like her. She hides something” and yes, my mercury/moon 12H friend does. She is always smiling and daydreaming, she’s not direct. She told me about her past situations that were certainly traumatic, there were a lot of changes in her life and my scorpio moon friend knows she hides THAT something.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

❀ Based on my personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

❀ English is not my first language.

❀ I’m not a profesional astrologer, I just love astrology and I’m willing to learn.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#astro observations #astrology #pinterest #astrologia #astro notes #astro placements #astro posts #12h placements #scorpio moon #taurus moon #aquarius #capricon #pisces rising #venusian #7H placements #saggitarius #birth chart

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thegoblinboy · 11 months

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Ok so random thought, but what if Steve was trans (ftm) and no one realizes it. Not even Robin. Just hear me out on this.

The first question out of this I know I’ll get is “Why wouldn’t Steve come out to Robin as well? Why doesn’t Robin know?” Well in my head cannon I believe Steve is aware that he’s trans but just simply forgets. He’s just a guy being a dude in a very judgemental world. That and he’s under stealth mode, he doesn’t want to be treated differently. He’s proud to be trans but in his mind he’s like any other guy, he doesn’t stand out. He’s transitioned socially that he doesn’t even think to much about it unless he’s in the men’s bathroom.

(Also for this au that is being built from scratch this is going to be modern, because I don’t want to accidentally put my experiences as a trans man on a transguy in the 80’s. I’m fully aware that they are different which is why I’m turning this into a modern au.)

There’s loopholes in this idea but I don’t care. Just Steve Harrington who is still getting used to being treated like a man socially. He doesn’t understand the hand shake thing with Lucas or the other jocks and he’s still a bit nervous about all of it. Like he’s finally fitting what he feels and he loves it but hates it at the same time. Because now he has to learn how to be a proper “gentleman” in public, which is a lot easier then hoe he was taught to be a lady. Now both of his parents are not conservative. Shockingly. So they are more open to things then most. Though secretly his father has always wanted a son to pass the business down to and this is the perfect opportunity. His mother isn’t to happy but she finally gets on board. Once he’s sixteen he starts hormones and switches schools, where he becomes king steve. Where he falls into a toxic masculine group of Tommy’s so he can “fit” in.

But then things start to go down hill with the upside down. And everything goes by normal. He meets Robin and they are two pees in the pod. Just missing one, that they are not really searching for but are?

The whole trans thing comes up when they are all in the boat and Steve’s a bit panicked because this means he has to take his shirt off in front of them. This can go to so different ways.

A) He hasn’t had top surgery yet and is currently wearing his binder. Which is skin toned but doesn’t match. He’s beat red as he catches the curious eyes of all of them on the boat. None of them knowing what a binder is. Robin of course asks what that is, and avoiding the question he jumps in and goes under. (You aren’t supposed to swim with your binder on) and he regrets all of his life decisions before coming back up and then being pulled back down. Everyone of course follows along, and after all of it Steve is in a lot of pain. Between the bite and his ribs he has no choice but to pull his binder off. Everything is explained and he’s really embarrassed as he finally gets the damn thing off while holding his chest. Trying to hide his boobs, in which Eddie ends up coming over with the vest. Wrapping it around Steve carefully with the most awkward back pat ever. Like it’s not brought up, but Steve does end up wearing one of Eddie’s old baggy shirts from what’s “83” but really a different year because it’s modern. And his vest as well to help cover his chest and it’s the most gender euphoria ever. (Also he still has a hairy chest, so before he gets the shirt and the vest is covering most of his moobs Eddie nearly dies seeing his chest hair)

Or it goes B) where he’s had top surgery but it’s been a bit more recent. He’s still recovering and he has to awkwardly check his wrap his on properly before diving in. Like he shouldn’t be swimming either and he has to awkwardly explain what top surgery is to them. And robin who can’t help the jokes

“I thought you liked boobs!”

But just Steve being fully accepted. And after everything Eddie just sneaks some more baggy masculine clothes that Steve has been wanting to wear but weren’t preppy enough for his parents.

Like there is so much with this idea

(This all started because I pictured Steve with top surgery scars with Eddie’s vest, but also pre op steve with his vest is also equally as gender. Though do not feminize his chest or else I’ll bite you.)

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #bxb #steveharrington #steveddie #eddie stranger things #steve and eddie #trans steve harrington #modern au #Steve and testosterone shots #trans steve in Eddie’s vest has me

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rosepeta1z · 4 months

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A slice of sweets

A/N: this is a very very late happy birthday fic to Wanderer/Scaramouche. Fluff, you call him Scaramouche, small tiny tiny mention of throwing up and gagging. I think that’s it.

Word count: 853 words

Scaramouche hates sweets, but for you, he’s willing to suffer and try.

Today was Scaramouche birthday.

It was just another normal day for him. To him, there was no reason to celebrate his birthday. It was no big deal, especially to him. It was just a waste of his time. He had other things to do. If anything, he just wanted peace and quiet for the whole day.

That would be his birthday wish.

So, why were the students in the akademiya bothering him and trying to give him sweets and cake?

He almost gagged when a poor student went up to him when he was just hiding out in the wild and gave him a small sweet. Anyone could tell it was so sickeningly sweet. He simply gave the sweet a grimaced look and shook his head, giving her the small sweet back.

“I don’t do sweets. Take it for yourself, I don’t need or want it.”

The girl that was trying to be nice gave him a sad look, simply nodding her head and walking away seemingly embarrassed.

Maybe he was a bit too straightforward, but he just couldn’t stand sweets! There was nothing in the world that could make him eat them.

Hours passed by, and the same thing would happen over and over again. People from the akademiya would somehow find him and offer him the same thing over and over again.

Sweets, cake, sweet, cake. He felt like throwing up just by how many times he had to smell and look at the sugar filled stuff they gave him. That, and the fact it was starting to really annoy him now.

—-

After all of that, he finally found a place he could sit and just relax. It was a big tree that gave a nice shadow that cooled him down a bit. It was refreshing and relaxing. This, was his birthday wish.

….

Or was it really? He laid his hat on the side and stared at the sky in deep thoughts.

Were birthday wishes even true? I mean, sure, peace and quiet seem nice. But that’s not his actual wish.

His actual wish was to spend more time with you. You were one of the students in the akademiya, and he was quite fond of you. Unlike the others. You talked a lot, but you didn’t talk a lot where to the point you would blow his ear off from how much you’d talk. You talked the perfect amount, your choice of words fascinated him, the way you talk, the way you look when you talk. Everything about you was perfect to him.

He chuckled at his own thoughts. When did he start thinking about stuff like this? He wasn’t used to it.

Right when he was deep in thought, he heard a branch crack near him. He glanced around him before his eyes laid on a figure. It was you? How’d you find him? Before he could collect himself you walked up to him with a sweet smile on your face. The smile that he secretly loved to see everyday.

“Hey, Scaramouche! Happy birthday, I heard from the other students that you were around here so I thought I’d stop by to give you my own little gift for you!”

You presented him a small case of a slice of cake. It seemed sweet. Too sweet.

But how could he give up a cake you gave him? There’s no possible way that he could.

He stared at the cake, then at you, then at the cake once again. He cleared his throat and managed to crack a small smile before raising his hands to take the cake from you.

“Oh, cake? …Thanks. I’ll be sure to eat it. Though, you really didn’t need to do this much for my simple ‘birth’. It’s not necessary one bit.” He muttered, he bit back what he wanted to say about sweets and how much he hated them. But for you, he’ll accept it. But, don’t expect him to actually eat it. Nope.

“Nonsense, I did it because you’re my friend and I care about you! So much so that I made a cake for you. How about you try it? I wanna know what you think about it.” You happily said as you took a seat down right next to him. You seemed more happier than him for his birthday.

“Eat? This cake?” He so desperately wanted to say ‘absolutely not’, but…for you.. he guesses he could make an acceptation just to see you happy. Even though he hated sweets with a burning passion.

He didn’t want to waste any more time stalling, so he quickly took a bite of the cake and swallowed it as quickly as he could so he couldn’t get that taste of awfully sweet sugar. He almost gagged but put on a straight face for you.

Your eyes sparkled when you saw him try it and give a thumbs up. He knew it would be worth it.

At the end of the day, he did managed to spend more time with you and form a stronger bond. It turns out, birthday wishes do come true.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshots #genshin x reader #genshin scara #scaramouche #scarameow #scara x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer #genshin wanderer #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 23 days

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may i ask for strawhats with a reader thats like madeline hatter from ever after high or just simply the mad hatter?

-Growing up you could remember so many people calling you odd or strange, but you weren’t, you were just Y/N- bright, colorful, and a bit mad, but then again, everyone was!

-Where you grew up, nothing made sense, everything was wacky, mad, and impossible, but that’s what made your home so wonderful~

-When you made the decision to leave home to explore the world, your family supported you, making you promise to send letters and visit often, which you had no issues doing.

-Armed with your bottomless handbag and umbrella that you used like a boat, you set off for adventure and new experiences.

-And you found them on a pirate ship of all places, with your new crew, the Straw Hats! They found you on an island, having a tea party, but with your tea set, everything would float around, including you!

-When Luffy and the crew entered the clearing, you beamed brightly as you floated on by, “Hello new friend~ please join me for a wonderous tea-party!”

-Zoro, Franky, and Jinbei didn’t really know what to make of this situation, but Chopper and Luffy were quick to rush in, grabbing teacups and drinking down the tea so they started to float, cheering loudly as you giggled, swimming on by.

-Robin and Nami went next, then Usopp and Brook, all of them joining you in the air as you floated on by, twirling Chopped by his hoof, making him squeal.

-Robin spoke to you, “You don’t seem bothered by Chopper or Brook? Have you seen other odd things?” you looked a bit confused, “Odd? I don’t think they’re odd at all, a talking reindeer and a talking skeleton- how -hehe- mad!”

-Zoro commented that you had a few screws loose to which you floated over to him, handing him a cup of tea, “Everyone has loose screws, but missing screws is when I’d worry, that would mean something’s about to break!”

-His eyelid twitched as Sanji floated on by, feeling so weightless, “But if you’re too scared to join us~” they were quickly fighting after Zoro drank down the tea.

-Jinbei and Franky took someone handing them a cup as well and they joined as Franky floated by you, “This is SUPER awesome!!” which made more cheers ring out.

-Jinbei felt a little odd, floating in the air, “This isn’t like floating in water.” You hugged him around his neck, beaming, “Floating in water or floating in air, all that matters is what it does to your hair!”

-You were so unique and fun, Luffy didn’t even hesitate to invite you to join his crew and you immediately accepted, after taking a sip of tea, like you were pondering it, which made him and some of the others laugh.

-Marines and enemies didn’t know what to make of you, with your riddles, your odd way of talking and moving, and they weren’t expecting your bottomless bag to be sentient, chasing after them like a rabid honey badger, snarling and baring its previously unseen teeth.

-Sanji and Nami had been terrified, seeing this, until it came over to you after chasing everyone away and you patted it on the top, like it was a dog, “Good boy Jeoffrey! I hope you didn’t eat too many of them, you’ll spoil your dinner!”

-Luffy begged you to let him see what was inside Jeoffrey, and you agreed, taking his hand and you immediately leapt up and the two of you were promptly swallowed.

-Inside it was like a rabbit hole, spiraling columns of different patterns, colors, and textures, playing cards, desserts, tea sets, strange creatures all floated around, as you both floated down and down.

-At the very bottom was a door, but it was much too small for the two of you to fit inside, so you grabbed a pair of nearby floating bottles, handing Luffy one.

-His eyes went huge as he watched you shrink down to the perfect size, and he did the same, immediately shrinking, letting out a cheer as you both headed to the door.

-Luffy was stunned when you both went through the doorway, being spat out by Jeoffrey as you laughed warmly, enjoying the little adventure while Luffy started to ramble and gush on what he had seen.

-You promised to take the others in, a few at a time, later, as Jeoffrey needed his afternoon nap. You carried your bag like it was a cat, now snoring loudly, inside so it would sleep peacefully.

-You were a weirdo surrounded by weird things, but you were their weirdo, and that was the best compliment you had ever received, other than someone telling you that your hat looked nice!

#one piece #luffy #zoro #sanji #nami #chopper #usopp #franky #brook #robin #jinbei #madeline hatter

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