#it's the best thing ever when u have a polite character

[lilacthebooklover]

i love the phrase "with all due respect" so much. because sometimes, the respect due is absolutely none at all.

#it's the best thing ever when u have a polite character #and they really hate someone #with all due respect #random things #what do i even tag this with??? #tumblr trash #writers on tumblr #ao3 writer #fanfiction writer #that'll do i suppose

[xiao-come-home]

Boothill relationship headcanons;

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✰ Characters: Boothill x reader.

✰ Words: ~1k.

✰ SFW+N//SFW ; SFW mentions no pronouns or gender of the reader. N//SFW section was written with fem!reader in mind.

Warnings: THIS HAS A NSFW PART. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS skip this section if possible. some of these hc are based on this post, since i wanted to write a little more about it.

A/N: BRAINROT gRR he truly gives me doctor by Miley Cyrus vibes. idk how to explain it but take it

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Boothill:

SFW

he's such a gentleman! opens doors for you, pulls out a chair, kisses your hand when he sees you first for the day, it doesn't get boring for him at all. if you ignore some of his unhinged behaviors, then he's a perfect man.

like i mentioned in my previous post, he's VERY possessive of you. he does like to go to unknown clubs or bars with you to try out their best drinks in his spare time, though he doesn't have you attached to his hip (even.. if he wouldn't probably mind at all), he does keep a sharp eye on you. if a weird guy approaches you and you're clearly uncomfortable, he tries to intimidate the guy away and clearly let him see that you're his (aka placing his arm around your waist and pushing you into him), if being polite doesn't work, well, they have a rough night. not in a good way.

this man SCREAMS BACK HUGS!! since his body is like 90% metal and machines, he loves to embrace you from behind and wrap his arms around your tummy, while his chin rests on your shoulder. he misses the softness of his own skin, so having you gives him a lot of comfort; the warmth you're radiating makes him reluctant to ever pull away. boothill often finds himself touching his cheeks with his robotic arms, when they get warm enough - the feeling almost long forgotten in his mind.

speaking of back hugs: he's also very big on neck kisses, mostly giving than receiving, depending on how he feels, they're either very innocent and loving - very soft, paired with butterfly kisses, or biting you and then kissing it better, when things get steamy.

boothil finds it funny when his hair tickles you when he hugs you from behind. if he's feeling particularly like a little shit that day, he can annoy you the entire day like that, only to respond with "hmm? what do you mean? I'm not doing anything, baby!" ...don't tell him his smirk gives it away, but honestly, at this point, he probably doesn't try to hide it that well.

he DOES slap your ass when you go past him. EVERY time. it doesn't get boring for him, he likes the sound it makes AND how soft it is, bonus if it jiggles, then he's even more proud. he might offer "an apologetic massage," which you rarely agree to (but he'll try until u say yes).

if someone ever tinkers with his Synesthesia beacon, he cannot swear for his life. you might catch him trying to cook, spilling something, and then hearing loud "YOU LITTLE DAISY FLOWER! CUTIE PIE! CURSED FROG!" it's kinda impressive how colorful they can get...

speaking of his voice, he's probably able to manipulate it so it sounds the best according to your taste. although his flesh heart has been gone for so long, he still feels that familiar, warm feeling and squeeze of his own, mechanical one, when your answer is always the same - to modulate it so it sounds the closest to what it used to be, or that the current one is just as pleasant to hear.

he likes to kiss you. no matter where, or when. if he wants to, he'll get one, pressing you against him, cupping your face with one hand, and kissing your puckered lips. once you give in, he kisses you properly, caressing your cheek ever so slightly to ease any discomfort left, only to hold you tightly on your hips and whimper on purpose just to tease you more (i believe in boothill is a little shit theory).

if we assume his face is the only human part of him left (besides his eyes). In that case, he just truly loves the softness of your lips on his. he kisses you as much as he can, and will get all fussy and whiny if he doesn't get his good morning kiss, we-see-each-other-for-the-first-time-today kiss (note: this is not the same as good morning kiss), goodnight kiss and so on. yes, he could get it by himself, but he wants it from you first. he's just very stubborn.

watch out! he likes to draw blood on your lower lip when his intrusive thoughts win. he licks the blood off later, and gives it a loving kiss.

his hair is genuine, so he loves whenever you play with it, brush it, or take care of it in general. it's probably one of the very few human features of his, so if your boothill lets you carefully pamper it, let alone without flooding his cords, he's not only very impressed, but also very willing to indulge in more sessions.

finds it absolutely adorable when you wear his hat when he isn't looking. or, well, when you think he isn't looking.

N/SFW. minors and ageless blogs shoo!

the council has decided that he has a vibrator in place of his real junk. but if you're into experimenting and want him to feel a bit more, hm, natural - he's more than happy to change his parts. shape, size and pace - everything for his lady.

you can probably guess, but that's an absolute ass man. he sees you in tighter pants that hug you just so nicely and might go feral.

eats pussy like a starved man. he has no shame and licks, sucks, and fucks you with his tongue and THE SOUNDS could put the devil himself to shame. boothill always wants everyone to know that you're his, how you scream and moan for him, so in return - he never lets a drop of your juices go to waste, slurping and moaning into your slit.

he's literally so flexible, that he'll fuck you in every position you want him to. if it means he'll get deeper, he's on board. and probably on top of you too.

likes to grope you through your clothes. sounds very tame, but it really gets him going, and might sometimes cause trouble in public.. unless you WANT that trouble.

adding to the headcanon above - he truly just gets turned on by your skin, especially imperfections. stretch marks? he'll kiss them all, scars? he has them all memorized. when he touches you through your clothes, he already remembers what is where, it's like he's edging himself knowing that soon enough he'll undress you completely and see it clearly; he quite literally worships what truly makes you... you.

he. is. so. SO over when you pull on his hair. when you make out, when he fucks you - doesn't matter. DO IT and he'll go absolutely crazy, hissing in pleasure and grinding into you.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill #boothill hsr #boothill x reader #.headcanon #oops #gif by @/freyito!!

[caraphernellie]

cowboy like me // e.w. [chapter one]

summary: a modern day princess living under outdated royal protocol in which your own existence is forbidden. in a typical state visit to strengthen your country's relations with the united states, you find it harder than ever to keep your sexuality secret when you meet the president's daughter, ellie williams, and sparks fly.

wc: 2.1k masterlist

content warnings: fluff, angst, eventual smut. homophobia, governments, monarchy, politics. reader is specified as lesbian with she/her pronouns used for plot purposes i sorry, smoking, making out, femme! reader. u-haul lesbians fr. reader plays piano. ellie is a disaster lesbian lmaooooo. she's also super privileged and a bit of an ass. mostly based off of the british royal family in terms of royal protocol and all that shit, don’t kill me if things are inaccurate i’m not american, this chapter is more an intro to ellie's character and establishing tension

authors note: i'm so excited about this fic... but i might hate it in the morning so we'll see!! i've never read/watched red white and royal blue but it did inspire this fic (do not expect it to be anything like rwrb as i said i don't know what happens in it lmao). ellie's the president's daughter obvs. if your country doesn't have a monarchy just pretend there is one. if you're from the us then L 💀 play pretend

converse sneakers pelting across marble tiled floors with an onslaught of urgency, ellie makes her way through the halls. she stops at a mirror for a second, a muse in her mind– eh, good enough.

smoothing down flyaway hairs, ellie realises spending free time in the courtyard outside may not have been the best idea on a cool spring day such as this. the winter is still lingering, breezes battering the flag of red, white, and blue on the roof of the building as warm temperatures are still fresh. still- she needs as much a distraction as anyone else. as if procrastinating on something like homework, assignments, except the only thing ellie has done is make herself late to the introductory banquet of the royal family. all she knows is the president won’t be happy with her. 

bringing her wrist to her nose, ellie sniffs, though it’s less sniffing and more inhaling, trying to figure out if she has masked the smell of the cigarette she wasted or if she needs more cologne.

ellie’s caught by a housekeeper with her face stuck awkwardly into her suit jacket, furrowed brows as she inspects her own scent. pausing, a strained smile takes its place on chapped lips.

“he–”

“goodness, miss williams, you’re terribly late,” the housekeeper says, quickly approaching. “staff have been searching everywhere for you.”

“right,” ellie mumbles, straightening up her posture. “sorry. i’ll be on my way to the state dining room right now.”

approaching said room, ellie can already hear the fuss– loud and polite conversations, the snapping of photos, subtle classical playing over the speakers. christ, ellie thinks, how do i render myself invisible?

ellie’s worries ease the minute she steps inside, however, as the commotion isn’t around her own family today. it’s the royal family. and that realisation almost sparks up yet another mini freakout in ellie’s mind. she’s been looking forward to this for weeks, of course she has, a hot princess living in her home for an entire month..? that’s something she could get used to. but it’s real now, and just staring at you is sending a chill down ellie’s spine.

flash photography and yelling of the invited press is suffocating ellie as she ventures further into the room. she hasn’t even been noticed yet, thank god, so she decides to humbly busy herself at the table of finger food. until–

“ellie williams?”

a delicate voice smooth and sweet, ellie’s ears prick up to the sound of an accent unique and she knows exactly who this has to be.

fuck.

ellie makes quick effort to swallow the stupid cocktail frank she was eating and turns around, wiping her clammy hands on the ass of her slacks.

a princess standing right in front of her, of course these things only happen to ellie in her most cringeworthy moments. demolishing a table of finger food… what can she say? she’s an anxious snacker.

“ah-” ellie’s eyes meet your own and she gulps, extending a hand. “a pleasure to meet you, princess…”

get your head in the game, ellie. she clears her throat, putting on her famous, confident smile. and as you place your hand in hers, she acts purely without thinking, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. nobody was watching, but ellie drops your hand in an instant- is flirting with a princess the right move? even if it’s humorous?

your brain just about short-circuits, and ellie’s reeling. that was stupid, so stupid. acting on total whim.

the collar of ellie’s shirt feels too tight as she observes the split-second utter shock in your eyes, though she relaxes as you reward her a smile. and it isn’t that typical, media-trained smile, either.

“charming,” you murmur in response, eyes fixed on ellie’s piercing greens. however delighted you might be to be treated in this way by a girl like ellie, the way in which you hide it is effortless.

and charming, of course, is exactly what ellie is. messy, shirt creased and hair tousled and she honestly reeks of expensive cologne and faint smoke – but she has that handsome smile and that confident demeanour that the girls of washington d.c. fall for so easily.

“i hope so,” ellie says with an awkward chuckle, shoving her hands into her pockets. “that’s the aim of the game.”

you laugh similarly, politely, and make it as clear as possible to glance ellie up and down. “i’ll play.”

and the look on ellie’s face is plain silly at the least, her brows furrowed and eyes wide. “wh- uh..”

“say, it’s a little stuffy in here,” you say, gently fanning yourself, “you wouldn’t happen to know of any quiet spaces we could disappear to?”

ellie’s lips form a small o-shape as she processes the question. you want to be alone with her. a smirk crosses ellie’s face and she nods, “absolutely, your highness. my office.”

“would you be so kind as to show me to it?”

“of course, follow me,” ellie nods her head to the direction of the door. “we’ll have to sneak around.”

your heels click against the floor while ellie leads you down the hall, the sound a constant reminder to her that you’re actually walking alongside her. approaching a large door adorned by a gold plate with ellie’s name carved into it, she pulls a key from her pocket. and yet her eyes are on you the whole time.

the door clicks open and ellie holds it for you, only for her face to turn red when met with the sight of her office.

“excuse the mess,” she mutters, closing and locking the door behind the two of you. “i was uh, in here late last night. i had a speech to work on.”

“it’s alright,” you say, “some organised mess makes it homely.”

“right,” ellie nods. she’s beyond sensical thought now, just going along with anything you say. try harder. this is ellie’s issue, she eggs herself on too much, gets too overzealous, does things for the sake of doing them because her life has quite literally no direction if she doesn’t set herself these impossible dares. “just take a seat anywhere if you like. the couch is pretty comfy.”

ellie makes a pointless attempt to tidy some papers on her desk. she doesn’t necessarily do a lot of work here, though she enjoys being an activist, often writing speeches and finding causes to help others. though it did only begin in the first place as a way to increase the votes for her father’s party during the election- that doesn’t mean it isn’t genuine!

it’s just that ellie’s lazy ass needs pressure to do these things.

she gnaws her lower lip between her teeth for a moment, watching as you sit on the two-seater, eyeing the guitars along the wall of the office. “you play?”

“hm? no,” you say, watching ellie take a warm toned acoustic and sit beside you. “i’m a pianist, though.”

“pianist?” ellie chuckles, thumb stroking over each string of the guitar. “you’ll have to play for me sometime.”

you nod, watching intently as ellie begins playing a quiet tune. she can’t help but notice your rigid, straight posture. she can’t tell if you just have great posture, or if you’re uncomfortable.

but, noticing your eyes lingering over her nimble fingers as they pick at the guitar, ellie’s lips curl upwards just slightly.

she knows well when she’s got a girl worked up. she’d never expected the princess to be this easy.

“music is just beautiful,” you say with a small nod, again, that genuine smile small as ever on your lips insecurely. “nothing like it.”

“you think so?” ellie muses, and when you manage to finally stray your eyes from her hands, you meet ellie’s own soft gaze. “because i think… even the most beautiful ballad couldn’t compare to the solid view i got right now.”

you scoff, turning quiet as heat fills your cheeks. your brows furrow as you tilt your head a nod to the side, studying ellie’s features, searching for any hint of dishonesty. and it’s like she can tell that, with your gaze silently begging her to not be messing with you- she turns her expression more serious.

“you’re something else, williams,” you retort, though adjusting yourself a little closer. knees touch, and you don’t flinch away.

“yeah?” ellie grins. the room goes silent, ellie no longer continuing to play her tune. the guitar on her lap, she rests her chin over it. “something good, or something bad?”

there’s a more subtle smirk on her face now. she begins to move, setting the guitar down and leaning it against the couch as she shifts even closer.

“mmm…” you think for a moment, a smaller expression of interest visible across your features. “something that my head tells me is not a good idea, but my heart says is just fine.”

how the fuck did i get here, ellie wonders? she’s running on pure luck at this point. stumbled in late and somehow she’s got a princess way in over her head.

and ellie doesn’t leave you waiting a moment longer– the second you lean closer she’s grabbing your head and meeting your lips in a fervent kiss, one you gasp into and immediately lean into, hands falling into place with one on her chest and the other on the back of her neck.

pulling away breathlessly, ellie chuckles a bit and shrugs her shoulders, “eh- oops?” she looks almost embarrassed by her own reckless act. “sorry.”

there’s too much going on for you– just too much in your head. your first kiss, the first other lesbian you’ve ever met. her words get you weak in the knees, yet she gets just as flustered by her own actions which seem to only ever work on impulse. so you start laughing, and you can’t stop.

ellie herself laughs a little, watching you giggle at her pink face as you lean into the back of the couch and hold up a cushion to hide your face. it’s all snorting and snickering and ellie’s face is getting redder.

she snatches the cushion out of your hands and raises a brow at you, “if you keep being that cute i’m gonna–”

“sorry,” you laugh, “sorry-”

ellie can’t help but notice how much it seems like you really needed this laughing fit, the way it’s instantly relaxed you…

“that’s it,” she mutters with a chuckle, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. “c’mere.”

the yelp of surprise that ellie’s movement elicits has her beaming, holding you on her lap. she rests a hand on the back of your head, the other cupping your ass. it’s indecent, indelicate to touch a princess like that, and yet you’re not stopping her. ellie’s already found herself addicted.

because this time ellie lets herself just go, pressing her lips to yours. she swipes her tongue over your bottom lip, grunting as you gasp. with your lips parted she slips her tongue into the kiss. she isn’t just kissing you, she’s devouring. she’s making sure not to leave an inch of your mouth unexplored, nor will she allow it for your body, getting rather handsy. every pretty little sound you breathe motivates her to continue, pulling you back in every time you pull back for air.

a hand slides under your dress, gripping your thigh, the other squeezes your breast before gliding to the curve of your ass, and she slumps into the couch. her boxers are growing uncomfortably wet and she needs to do something about it, hold you down on her desk and–

a key turns in the door and her eyes snap open, as do yours. not a single word is said but the panicked look you share tells all as you move back onto the couch beside ellie, smoothing down your dress. she grabs her forgotten guitar and moves it onto her lap.

and in mere seconds, the door opens to reveal a housekeeper who had used the master key to get in. and she’s clueless, though a little discomforted by the taut smiles you and ellie offer.

“sorry to interrupt you, ladies,” she offers awkwardly. “nobody has seen either of you in a long time, it was requested by president williams that we search the place.”

“ah,” ellie muses, clearing her throat before her voice can come out as weak as it feels. “i understand. we’re alright, yes, sorry, um… we needed a quiet place.”

sitting there with that prim and proper posture once again, your leg crossed over the other, you stare at ellie, resisting the urge to reach over right now and fix her hair after having ran your hands through it with desperation.

this is going to be an interesting state visit.

tag list (msg me or find my tag list in my pinned post if u want to be tagged!!): @dinasvampgf

🙈🙈 omg this fic..

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams x fem reader #fem reader #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fanfic #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x you #ellie x yn #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x yn #ellie fanfic

[thatdeadaquarius]

imagine if reader is given an ancient scripture from around the time humanity founded out how to write and do the alphabet (somehow it was preserved so well that you can still see the words with no issue)

and it's the most heart wrenching, soul crushing, tear inducing, hyperventilating, sanity disappearing angst, misunderstandings, hurt/no comfort, it gets worse but never better, major character death, unrequited love story to have ever existed in teyvat.

and after reader goes through the whole thing, they can barely talk or breathe properly with how much they're crying.

(even better, it was smut not angst and reader is staring ar the scripture, jaw dropped to the floor with shaking hands.)

STOP- I avoid fanfics like that at all costs 😭 id stop reading it after the first angsty event LMAO

Im like... too emotionally affected by fanfics, esp angst ones 💀

Its just, ppl who write closer to my generation or just very psychologically honestly, are like fucking deadly writers. Got my day ruined and shit w/just fanfics 😭

LMAO THE GIF IS JUST YOU ON THE SPOT NOT EVEN HALFWAY THRU-

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Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short! Headcanons-ish

Stars: my first of the Fontians!! Fontainianes? Fontainains?? u get it

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: sobbing, discussion of vague smut/NSFW book at the end, okay for Teen/Mature audiences, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

no but it’d be hilarious if u got this crazy like hand-width deep tablet for each “page” of the book, like how every novel or info in genshin is like one page at a time 😭

Sumeru and other international academics are literally constantly harassing politely requesting your translation of these and sending them to you in whichever country you’re visiting at the moment

Fontaine was even more complex and pretty in real life than it could ever be in game and i can def see you at like Neuvillette’s office or a nice french fontaine cafe and just WHAM

huge ass tablet bc as much as the fic tortures you, you have to know what the fuck happens to these miserable idiots

Neuvillette, Clorinde, and Lynette are all the type to immediately try and dissuade you from reading it again, bc from their point of view you just pull out this huge old rock and start sobbing quietly about 10 mins into the read every time 😭😭

(unsurprisingly, Neuvillette would even go so far as to get the Marechaussee Phantom to sneakily steal ur most recent tablets of the story to hide them, which sucks for you LMAO)

Freminet, Wriothesley, Navia, Lyney, and Furina,all frantically try to distract you, and also theyre in order of who would be the most dramatic w/it lmao

NO BC I JUST HAD THE THOUGHT-

Ur tears absolutely are top priority to Neuvillette and Furina so when they inevitably find the memories in them (and the traveler too maybe)

of what the story is about, except its like all the feelings and stuff, so like its the best “translation” they get of the book so far, u best believe it rains for a week straight

it started out as a light drizzle, but as Neuvillette “read on” in ur tear’s memories if got worse HAHA

mans is out here trying to convince himself like, “this is a classic tragedy from eons ago, its about a human romance, im definitely unaffected, though im glad i could figure out what ails My Majesty so”

meanwhile the story gets worse and its just like that meme “ohHHhhhHH its got a little kiicckkk”

Neuvillette nearly floods the streets by chapter 5 when the miscommunication happens and then they cant get in contact with each other to fix it lmao

LMAO I JUST HAD A VISIONNN

ur in fontaine and while yes drinks were popular (like obv fonta)

business is rlly booming bc now everyone you know (like the Vision-users or archons Neuvill, etc) all have develop this habit of having a water bottle or drink on them to offer you when u start reading to rehydrate you 😭😭😭

Navia, Clorinde, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney, Lynette all have a handkerchief on them at all times too 😭😭

Good God-

the moment you translate the now instant Shakespearean-level tragedy classic, it is a known tear-jerker thruout all of Teyvat,

like theres trigger warnings and age limits and shit 💀

◇

on another note,

if its smut,

ur desperately combing thru all the tablets and wall carvings and cave paintings to try and lowkey cover it up LMAO

and its not like a story with a smut scene either, its like what anon said,

just fully like the ao3 tag “Porn What Plot/Porn With Plot”

STOP

not u yanking the tablets out of Neuvillette’s hands when he curiously picks them up one time lmao

(he is now invested in getting these translated too bc of ur reaction lol)

☆

consider supporting me with an iced coffee? :0

Spooky Season! Spooky Season!! Spooky Season!!!

still not dead btw

just got hired at my new job so ive been training and busy!! :)

im a host at Olive Garden lol its weird and kinda hard, my feet hurt a lot and i havent had a full shift yet ;-; its a brand new one so it opens the 23rd

dw that eldritch one shot is still coming btw, just talking with betas and editing it now lol

hope if you read this you have a great upcoming weekend!!

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

☆

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657

#hello #its me #reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated #if anyone was reporting my death #ironic bc of my user #<3 cant wait to post that one shot #hope u guys will like it #its the eldritch au 1000+ followers celeb if u remember #sagau #genshin isekai #genshin imagines #genshin sagau #genshin impact #aqua asks #my asks #genshin impact sagau #genshin self aware #genshin x reader #gender neutral reader

[disco-troy]

I realize that this was initially retconned in the new 52, but I just assumed that now that we are out of the new 52 the ntt backrounds would be canon again for Kory… instead I have to sit into 3 pages that completely invalidate some of Korys core themes for what?!? Why can’t we be free of Lodells retcons!?!?

WHAT R U DOING?!? Kory and Koms relationship is interesting because inherently doomed to happen, created by factors beyond their control. Kom, born hated, was pushed into being the Tamaranian equivalent of “child that was not embraced by the village grows up to want to burn it down”. Kory, born heir apparent, takes Koms throne. How are you supposed to come to terms with being hated by your parents and your people as a young child?!? She takes it out on Kory as she seems the only acceptable target but it only makes her only more hated by her own sister. It was an inevitable self propagating cycle… Making them always co-rulers changes the entire narrative!!

They created sibling rivalries do you even care?!!?!??

The tragedy of they being they only two who can understand what each other went through but they will never be able to at the same time.

Kom being the only character who on panel tells Kory what she needs to hear - that Korys parents pretend to sacrifice when it’s Kory who is being sacrificed! All they have done in exchange for her undying loyalty was sell her to slavery and then exchange her for a political marriage - both arguably having other solutions that would have only required more bravery or political sacrifice (said by character explicitly on panel!)

Kom - older and more experienced is the only one who can recognize just how much their parents fucked them up. But Kory can’t because her parents being correct is the only way she can justify the years she spend in slavery. To bring the cycle full circle Kom becomes Korys only acceptable target

Kom couldn’t blame her parents. Kory still can’t. Myand’r and Luand’r lurk large in the life of their childen…

The parents who… are dead?!?

You are going to take the Fucked Up Parents away from girl in the Fucked Up Parents team?!? DO YOU EVEN CARE??

You don’t need to kill Korys parents to have things in common with Dick? You can parallel their needs to do their duty for their parents sometimes against their own well-being!! You want to talk more parellels? Korys backstory is packed with parellels to the other titans!

What happends to both Kory and Joey having parents who hurt them, and instead of ever apologizing always double down on how hurting them is the only and best option?? What happens to Korys seeing herself when Raven exchanging herself so trigon will leave earth alone!?

GIVE HER HER PARALLELS BACK HER THEMES!!!

#dc comics #Kory #starfire #koriand'r #kory anders #new teen titans #titans spoilers #titans #blackfire #komandr #Kom

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 2

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle* Mentions of sick loved ones, mutual pining, personal guilt, relationship turmoil. Summary: After only knowing Marcus for a brief time, you can already feel emotions beginning to build. Will that spell trouble for the relationship you've worked so hard to build with Sam, or will something else altogether begun to sow seeds of doubt? Notes: Once again I'm afraid I have to ask forgiveness in the edit of this chapter. I went away for a few days this week and ever since my chronic illness has been utterly kicking my ass. Hopefully I didn't miss too many errors here.

Game night will probably go down in the year's history as one of the best and most fun times that Marcus has had in a long time. He had laughed until his stomach hurt, his abs aching the next week for at least three days. He's gotten an open invitation back, but he doesn't know if that was a good thing, if he's honest with himself. His attraction to you is something that he's got to get ahold of if he's going to socialize with you more. It seems like everything about you just makes the heavens sing and the sun shine. It's crazy and he hates that, considering you are very happy in a relationship.

Eastern Market is his usual haunt on the weekend, preferring it to a generic grocery store, and he’s lost in thought enough that he doesn’t notice a familiar face at the florist’s stand across the way as he’s walking through the stalls. "Some peaches will be good." Marcus decides, looking through some of the fruits that have been trucked in from warmer states. "Peach smoothies." He decides, walking towards the gorgeous plump peaches on display.

If you were any other person in the world, it would be you who bumped into him and not the Secret Service agent contractually obligated to come along on your errands. As it is, when Agent Bailey defends you from being bumped into by the familiar figure of Marcus Pike, you’re the one who apologizes. “Oh! I’m so sorry, excuse u—Marcus?”

“Oh, hi!” Marcus shakes his head, reaching out and taking your arm. “I am so sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” He apologizes. “Was focused on getting some peaches and didn’t notice anything or anyone, obviously.” He flushes slightly, feeling that pull towards you and hating that he looks like a jerk, or maybe just thoughtless, in front of you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

"Not at all." The flowers in your hands and the canvas shopping bags on your arm aren't harmed either, and you find yourself smiling much more brightly than you were even a second ago. "No harm done to me or to Agent Bailey, not to worry. Is it errand day for you, too?"

“Trying to eat healthier.” Marcus admits, slightly upset by the prospect but he figures that just comes with getting older. “Figured the produce here would be better than in a grocery store. Are these for the inn?” He asks, looking at the flowers in your hands and immediately reaches for them. “Let me help.”

"I thought my apartment could use some brightening up." He's seen the organized chaos that you live in and you're not embarrassed by it by any means, but there is a small sting to buying your own flowers just a few days before Valentine's Day. Sam isn't a flowers guy and that's perfectly fine, but you're definitely a flowers girl. When Marcus scoops them up without a second thought and stays by your side, you can feel your cheeks heat up. "I, um—thank you.

“Of course.” He huffs, as if newly made acquaintances should always scoop up flowers from you. “You chose brilliantly. They are gorgeous. Have you already paid for them?”

"Yes, so don't even try." It's just a playful warning that comes with a waggle of your finger, but you really have a feeling that he would try to pay for them if you hadn't.

He grumbles at that slightly. “Well, okay.” It’s almost pathetic that he takes note of what kind of flowers you like and he smirks. “So which flower is your favorite in this?” He asks.

"These," you point out a geometrically fascinating flower with petals that seem to spiral endlessly. "They're called camellias. We called them Winter Roses when I was growing up, but I've always loved them." The intimacy of the question goes straight over your head, just excited to have something pretty to split amongst the small vases in your little space.

“Camellias.” Marcus repeats the flower, filing away the information even though he shouldn’t use it. “They are beautiful.”

"Not everyone has them, so I tend to get my flowers here just to make sure they're in the mix." Barely aware that you're standing in the middle of a bustling market with people trying to move all around you, you have to shake away the warmth settling in you that is definitely not due to any kind of attraction. Nope. Not even a little. Not at all. "You, um..." you gesture to the next stall, where he was originally headed when the collision happened. "Peaches?"

“Peaches? Oh right, peaches.” Marcus laughs at himself and shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, I’m – I forgot.” He snorts. “I was thinking about fresh peach smoothies.”

"Ooooo, that sounds incredible." All of a sudden it's the best idea you've heard all day, and you grin mischievously. "It's not exactly standard, but the next time you're craving a sweet after having Indian take out? Make a peach smoothie. It's got that same vibe as a mango lassi but it's slightly sweeter, and it's the most refreshing thing ever."

“I was actually thinking about having Indian tonight.” Marcus admits with a grin. “To reward myself for eating healthier.”

"Best reward in the world." You agree easily. "I told myself I was going to cook tonight and make sure there were leftovers for another day this week, but I am teetering dangerously close to just calling for take-out as well."

"Well..." Marcus almost doesn't offer, because of the fact that you have a boyfriend, but he is truly meaning this as a friendly offer. "If we went to have Indian together, it wouldn't be as bad as ordering it as take out, would it?" He ventures, raising his brows in offer.

You should say no, You should absolutely say no. Not because the invitation is improper in any way — after all, he's a friend. But because of the way your heart bumps and skips at the offer like you hope he means it as more. He doesn't, and that is a good thing. In fact, Marcus and Sam got along fairly well at game night. But you can't help the way your cheeks burn pleasantly. "DuPont Circle?" You ask, confirming that he means he was intending to order from the same place you were. When he nods, you do too. "That sounds really nice."

"This way..." He's immensely happy you are agreeing to come to eat with him. "We can order the samosas and pakoras and not feel any guilt what so ever." He tells you, grinning at you.

"No guilt, but definitely extra time at the gym." His smile is dangerous, but apparently your self-preservation instincts aren't nearly as good as you think they are, because the only alarm bell going off in your head is the one that says Don't Let It Become a Date! which you just brush off. Surely that won't even be a possibility. It can't, because you and Sam have a good thing going. "Although, you're not masochistic enough to have my little brother as your biweekly gym buddy, so your trips are probably far less traumatic than mine," you offer with a laugh.

"Nope." Marcus chuckles. "I just torture myself by running around the Mall during my lunchbreaks instead of spending it in museums or at the food trucks." He snorts. "I just get to smell them just off the Mall."

"Have you lived in DC for three years without doing any of the food trucks out on the Mall?" That might be the most appalling thing you've ever heard in your life, and you nearly drop the peach that you had just picked up to add to your basket.

"Oh no." He laughs at that. "First six months I was here, I fucking lived off food trucks." He admits. "I was undercover and my contact checked in with me through the food trucks."

"Oh, thank God." The both of you laugh as you wipe imaginary sweat of your forehead as though it had made you nervous. "If you had never had Julia's Empanadas, I might have had to drag you down to the Mall right now."

"Then I wouldn't have room for Indian." Marcus groans, rolling his eyes at the thought of how many empanadas he would try to fit in his stomach if you went to Julia's Empanadas. "And I'm really craving Indian."

"I am too." Although, now you're going to be thinking about empanadas for ages. Maybe you'll have to try making some. "How has your week been?" Making small talk is easy with him, as you poke through the fruit bins to find peaches, apples, and pears to snack on this week.

"It's been alright." He shrugs slightly. "Depositions for a few upcoming cases. So I've had to revisit case files and work with the district attorney's office to make sure that there aren't any surprises."

"Paperwork and meetings," you nod in understanding. "I get that. Being my own boss is a hell of a lot more paperwork and meetings than I ever thought it would be."

"Ordering supplies, creating events to drum up interest. Balancing budgets." He nods. "I can imagine that it feels like it's hard to get a free moment for yourself."

The way you nod is tired but proud. Every ounce of hard work that you put into that inn is worthwhile, and you do it with straight shoulders and as much determination as you can possibly summon. "Today is my first day off in...two or three weeks? It's...a lot. But it's so worthwhile. And it means that Syd has her place, too. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"So how did you come to have the inn?" Marcus has been curious about that. "Was it always your dream? Or something you fell into?'

"I really, really liked throwing parties when I was younger." That's the easy way to start, as you both move to the line to pay for your bundles of fruit at this particular stall. "That grew up into loving to have guests over all the time. And then dreaming about running a hotel. So I took my sociology and history double major and got a job a hotel in Philly after college, putting myself through a hospitality degree while I started learning the ropes. It was a lot of years of working my way up, but eventually I got hired as the manager for the Inn at Jones Point under the old owners. They were struggling to keep up with new technology and losing clients because of it, and then..." Your eyes flick up to Marcus, almost apologizing for telling him the whole story. "We found out the reason Anita was having so much trouble learning the new technology was early-onset dementia alongside a sizeable brain tumor. I bought the inn from them when they made the decision that a comfortable end to her life was the most important thing they could do. Michael – Anita's husband – he comes around once a week for dinner and to check up on the place now that she's gone. He likes to keep an eye on it for her."

“That’s….” Marcus softens so much at the background story. “Beautiful. You are maintaining their legacy while adapting it to the new realities of time. Weathering time.”

"That farmhouse has been standing since the 1700s. We're just part of its legacy, not the other way around." The pair of you step up to be next in line, with Agent Bailey standing mere feet away managing to look imposing and nonchalant all at once. "The best part is that it could give Sydney her restaurant, and Juan a way to find himself in all the event planning. We didn't know what a team we'd be until we got going and now it's...it's just amazing."

“That’s incredible, and the fact that the place runs so smoothly is a testament to your hard work.” Marcus praises. He’s read some of the reviews and they are all positive, even the ones that had events beyond your control.

“That’s very kind of you.” Kind is an operative word for Marcus. As are sweet, funny, intelli— Nope, stop it, you’re getting dreamy again. Even the momentary distraction of having to pay for fruit is a welcome one if it gets your mind off that track.

Ouch. Kind is such a word that lands him in the friend zone. Which is where he has to be with you, but it still hurts. No longer edgy or cool like he was when he was in his old band. “What else do you need to get?” He asks, swinging his head around at the options available.

“I’m almost done actually.” It didn’t escape you that he flinched slightly when you were trying to be grateful and at least a little complimentary, and suddenly your stomach flips in fear that he might not like spending time with you are much as it seems. Or that you’d done something wrong. “I just wanted to get some fresh bread. But…I don’t know how much more you have to do.”

“Nothing.” He promises, shooting you a grin. “The least I can do is carrying things. Since you are saving me from a night of trying to cook.”

“Never learned to cook or just never got good at it?” There is a difference, after all, and it isn’t about want. Some people find cooking to be an incredible challenge. He gives you a look when you take your parcel of fruit from the vendor and accepts it on your behalf with thanks. Like a damn gentleman, you think with a pant in your chest.

“Never really had the time or the inclination.” He admits. “It’s hard to be enthusiastic about cooking for one, you know what I mean?”

“But that’s when you get to experiment!” Maybe it’s years of being friends with Sydney, whose world revolves around her tastebuds, but cooking has always been an outlet for you. It’s one of the only things you dislike about your apartment —the teeny tiny kitchen. “You can test out new things and weird combinations, and if it’s not great then the only person who knows is you. But if it’s awesome?” You grin up at him like you’re unveiling some kind of ultimate secret. “You become a rockstar at the next office potluck.”

Marcus chuckles. “I’m a rockstar anyway.” He jokes. “I’m the one who brings in the pizza and Chinese for the late nights in the office.”

“Okay, actually, that does count for a lot.” Walking in the direction of the bakery where you get all of your sweet treats and fresh bread, you readjust your shopping bag on your arm and try to glance around the place to survey your surroundings the way Agent Bailey has been teaching you. A comprehensive knowledge of your surroundings, she calls it. “I can’t really cook for my staff much when they have Sydney’s kitchen nearby, but I leave baked goods in the break room from time to time as a thank you. They work so hard.”

“There’s nothing better than snagging a muffin or a cookie when you’re rushing around.” Marcus agrees wisely.

“Or a slice of pizza.” It sounds like he works hard to keep his team in good spirits the same way you do, and you have to commend that in someone who works in such a dour field. Even art crimes — being less violent in nature, according to what you looked up the other night out of sheer curiosity — can’t possible be all sunshine and roses.

“Exactly.” He nods. “Sometimes we have all night surveillance or going through the evidence when something is time sensitive. My teams work better when they are well fed, and know how much they are appreciated.” He shrugs slightly, “everyone could benefit from know that every now and again.”

"Sometimes the weddings we run are just...they're insane. Or last year we had an entire family reunion take over the grounds for four very long days. I can't imagine it's half as stressful as what you deal with but the days can be really long and busy in their own right." For what it's worth, at least, you do love your job. And it's obvious that Marcus feels just as passionately about what he does.

“Oof.” He winces. “I bet the staff wanted to break out a bottle of bubbly when they were checked out.” Marcus jokes, chuckling slightly. “Yeah a lot of people don’t understand that when you love your job, the long hours are worth it.”

"Yeah." A tinge of regret breaks your smile, barely twitching in the corner of your mouth, and you barely nod. He can't possibly know what kind of a nerve he's hit — hell, you barely know yourself and you're the one feeling it. It just...it stings.

“Did I say something wrong?” He asks, immediately concerned when your smile seems almost sad.

"No." You reassure him much too quickly, and flinch in your own right when he looks skeptical. "It's just...not everyone thinks what I do is as worthwhile as, say, something like what you do. A—and that makes sense. Running an inn and upholding the law are—they're not the same. I'm not saying they are. It's just...that important to me. That's all."

“Whoever believes that is wrong.” Marcus insists wholeheartedly. “Running an inn is absolutely crucial. Maybe not to everyone, but to the people who need a little escape, a retreat to relax and revive themselves, your inn is a haven to them.” He is speaking passionately because he believes it. “When I’m out of town on a case, I hope that I can book a little inn. Something more personable than a Holiday Inn, so when I come back, it’s like a little slice of home.”

“I appreciate that. Really. It’s—I guess it’s a sore spot at the moment and I didn’t realize it. That’s all.” And you are absolutely not going to allow yourself to indulge in the image of Marcus coming back to the inn for you. Your place is not his ‘ little slice of home’. Even if you’re wondering what the would feel like if it was real.

“Well, you can always gripe and complain if you need to.” He promises.

“No, that’s—that’s not it.” It’s a little embarrassing, if you’re honest, but that’s only because you’re fighting being attracted to the man beside you. Otherwise you would just be chatting to a friend. “I just…don’t get to spend as much time with Sam as he would like. That’s all. Because we both have busy jobs.”

Marcus winces. “With the job he has, it would be hard unless you didn’t work.” He murmurs quietly. “But what counts is that you make the time you do have together special.”

“That’s what I said. Making the most of our time it’s what is most important.” The topic had come up again in conversation when you and Sam had talked about next steps — through the odd avenue of discussing your commute. His house to the inn isn’t a prohibitive drive, but it will warrant either having a lot of work done on your car or getting an upgrade. Right now you have no commute whatsoever, so you’re barely using your car outside of town.

“My favorite thing to do with my ex-wife was to curl up and watch a movie.” He admits. “Or work on a crossword together.”

“Those…” You laugh quietly, almost self-consciously, and shrug with the air of someone who is just about to give up. “Are the things I do with my good friend Agent Bailey, here. Though she kicks my ass at the Times Sunday crossword every single week.”

He rolls his eyes at himself. “I know it’s an old person’s activity, but I was normally exhausted from the academy.”

“Don’t you dare besmirch the Times Crossword.” A waggles finger and disapproving tsk seems to amuse him and it makes you smile, too. “That’s a mandatory topic of conversation at my mother’s dinner table.”

“Your mother enjoys the Times Crossword?” He asks, grinning at you. “She would get along with my parents. They have two subscriptions just so they can each do their own.”

“I’m keeping that in mind for Dad’s birthday this year.” It’s a brilliant idea. They would love to make a competition of it. It would be the highlight of their week.

“My parents got it as a wedding present and they enjoyed it so much, they kept it.” He tells you, smiling fondly at the memory of the two of them arguing playfully over their crosswords.

“That’s incredibly sweet.” There is a crowd at the bakery, as to be expected, so you and Marcus step into line to wait your turn. “I love the idea of being able to share small things with your partner. They’re every bit as important as the grand gestures, if not more.”

“Sometimes the smaller gestures are the most meaningful.” He admits with a grin. “I love cherry Danishes, and so did my ex. We would find these combo boxes of assorted and she would get the cherry one.”

“Giving up your favorite Danish flavor is not small.” An attempt at lightening the already light and sweet conversation is maybe…just trying to keep your own mind off of things. But that somehow doesn’t keep you from admitting the truth before you can stop yourself. “I have yet to meet the man I would give up my lemon poppyseed muffin for.”

“That’s only because you’ve never traded for a raspberry crumble muffin.” Marcus vows, smirking at the way you look stingy, even though he knows for a fact you aren’t.

“You’re on, Pike.” The smirk on his lips spreads to yours as effortlessly as breathing. “But lemon poppyseed is pretty impossible to unseat.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever had a raspberry crumble then.” He huffs, looking offended at the idea. “But I don’t think this place has them. I get them from a little bakery near the Bureau. I’ll have to bring you one.”

“I’ll get you a lemon poppyseed from the coffeeshop I go to in Old Town.” Even as its coming out of your mouth you know it sounds like flirting, but the fact is that you just feel so naturally comfortable with him. There is nothing flirtatious about muffins, you tell yourself. Nothing at all. “We can compare notes.”

“That sounds like a plan to me.” Marcus is extremely happy that you would like to make plans with him, any plans. Even if it’s just a friendly wager. “I’ll get the raspberry crumble. I say we each get two. And if you like the other one so much, you have to give up both.”

“Deal.” You put your hand out to him, willing to make a friendly bet on almost anything. That’s gotten you and your brother in trouble before, but this is harmless.

Marcus grins as he takes your hand, imagining that lightning bolts are shooting up his hand. Winking, he laughs, “just don’t be disappointed when you break that little rule of yours for me.” He boasts.

“We’ll see.” The tone of the thing really tries for teasing, but you end up so taken aback by the electricity in shaking his hand that you fluster — which is only compounded when you end up next in line and completely forget the word for ‘sourdough’ in the process.

“I, uh, I want-“ you seem completely out of it, and the bored looking boy behind the counter seems to be getting annoyed with you. “Can we have just a second?” Marcus asks, pulling you back and allowing another couple to go ahead of the two of you. “I’ve completely forgotten what I wanted.” He takes the blame, not wanting to embarrass you.

“Bread?” You manage to supply, feeling like a world class idiot for clamming up on something so routine. If being around him is going to be this big of a problem, you need to get yourself in order.

“Yeah, bread.” He nods, wrinkling his nose slightly. “What’s that type that I like?”

At this point he could mean him or he could mean you, or he could even just be speaking in theoreticals, but you have you head in straight enough again to blow out a breath and remember yourself. “Sourdough. I forgot the damn word for sourdough.”

“Thats it.” He snaps his fingers and looks back at the boy. “Could we get some sourdough bread?”

“Sure.” The kid looks at the both of you like you’ve gone insane but turns around to bag a loaf of freshly baked bread without a second thought for his strange customers.

Marcus pays for the bread, even with you huffing beside him and guides you towards the clearing. “That wasn’t that bad.”

“Only because you saved me from sputtering like an idiot.” It’s beside the point that he is also the reason you were sputtering in the first place. That doesn’t matter. It’s the fact that you couldn’t keep it together that bothers you. “Thanks for that.”

“Not at all.” He waves off your thanks. “Everyone has those moments.” He promises, smiling at you.

There is such a moment of relief when you exhale again that you have to make light of it or else you’re in danger of feeling far more grateful than is probably necessary, and that makes your chest ache in a dull and insistent kind of way. “That’s either very sweet of you or a complete placation, but either way I appreciate it.”

“No placation, I promise.” He crosses his finger over his heart and smiles at you. “Anywhere else?”

“That was the last thing for me.” Even though you have plans to have dinner with him that night you still can’t help feeling a little disappointed that the impromptu shopping trip has come to an end. “Unless you needed something else?”

“Well…” Marcus looks around, not wanting to let you leave just yet. “Maybe I could find a plant to kill?” He asks. “Something to brighten up my place?”

"Bit of a black thumb?" The excuse to not say goodbye yet is welcome, and you end up smiling more broadly than you mean to. "Let's see what we can do about that."

“More that I forget to set up someone to water my plants when I go out of town and they die miserable, thirsty deaths while I’m away.” He flashes you a guilty grin. “I’m a murderer.”

“Very rude of you to do to your plants.” The wholesome, straight-faced nod that you cry for cracks on a giggle, though, and you nod in the direction of an entirely different florist stand than the one you were at before. “What you need is a succulent.”

“That sounds a little dirty.” Marcus admits, not even realizes how flirtatious that sounds.

It does. And you didn’t mean for it to. You were just talking about the type of plant he could get. But then there’s that grin on his face and it’s so fucking puckish and * handsome* that you practically groan about how unfair the whole damn thing is. “Whoops?” You offer, obviously not apologetic in the least.

He snorts and winks at you again. “I don’t mind. Sometimes being a little dirty is a good thing.” It’s borderline inappropriate, so Marcus doesn’t say anything else.

“Sometimes it’s the fun of an otherwise boring day.” But since you’re genuinely afraid you might say too much if you go ahead with this line of thought, and since Agent Bailey is steadily avoiding your eyes like an older sister trying not to bear witness to your trouble making, you clear your throat and change the subject. “I think I snake plant would work for you. They’re really easy to care for and great for beginners or busy people.”

Marcus takes your lead and nods seriously. “I’ll take some advice. Any advice.” He shrugs slightly. “I wish I had the time for pets, but I don’t and it’s wrong to do that to them.”

“If I could have a dog, I would have a little corgi or a Yorkie in a heartbeat.” It comes with an almost wistful sigh, but you feel the same way he does. It would be cruel to the animal you’re supposed to be taking care of. “But since I have no concept of work-life balance? I have plants.”

“I’ll start with plants.” Marcus huffs. “If I can keep one alive? Maybe I’ll move on to cats? They are low maintenance.”

“Cats are fantastic. Sydney and Anna Leigh always had a couple when we were growing up and they can’t be the sweetest animals in the world.” There is a florist that specializes in succulents and potted plants further into the market and you head that way, chatting as you go. “I just always said I would want my kids to grow up with a puppy.”

“Puppy, a swing set in the yard and dinner together.” Marcus adds wistfully, having his own version of that same dream. “Every kid needs a puppy pal.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” And the knot in your stomach tells you that that isn’t a coincidence — that the future you’ve dreamt about probably lines up with the one he wants in so many different ways.

“We had my dog for nearly twenty years.” Marcus tells you. “He was my best friend and the best soul I’ve ever met.”

“I got Alex instead of a dog,” you giggle, silliness tinging the edge of his sweet nostalgia. “My little brother.”

“Isn’t a younger brother the same thing?” He asks with a grin.

“Very much so. And Alex is as much Golden Retriever as he is human.” If he were here, he’d give you so much grief for that comparison, but you stand by it. “What kind of dog did you have?”

Marcus chuckles. “A golden retriever.” He tells you without skipping a beat. “I’ve got a picture of him, wanna see?”

“Absolutely!” They say you’re either a kid person or a dog person, but you’re definitely both. Anything cute and squishy is right up your alley.

Digging out his wallet, it might be a little old fashioned to carry a physical photo of the favorite family pet, but he likes looking at it sometimes. He’s holding his dog, Hansel, in the picture. The white around the dog’s snout indicative of the older age of the golden retriever. “Here he is. Hansel.”

“What an angel!” If you could jump right through the photo and squeeze his beautiful face you would — the only problem is that you don’t know if you mean young Marcus or the dog.

“Wasn’t he?” Marcus hums happily. “He slept in my room growing up. Hated me leaving for college, although I hated being apart from him too.”

"How could you possibly leave that face? Look at him!" Yeah, it's definitely the dog that you're talking about. At least right now.

“Yeah.” He smiles down at the photo, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the canine face with happy memories flooding through him. “He was the best.”

"So would you want another Golden Retriever?" Looking between him and the photo, you think you might be able to guess the answer yourself. "Or will no other Golden ever live up to him?"

“Probably not.” Marcus shrugs. “He was from a litter of puppies at the shelter. It was just a coincidence that he was a pure Golden.” He frowns slightly. “I would want to adopt. It’s the best way to give a loving home to an animal.”

"Adopting is the only way." On that, you can firmly agree. But you point to the florist stand up ahead and touch his arm gently in an unconscious moment of casual comfort. "First, let's get you a plant to adopt."

“Yes, I would prefer adopted over nursery grown.” Marcus jokes, trying to ignore how easy it is to be with you. You can just be a friend. It’s possible and it’s possible he’s lying to himself.

"Wild, orphaned plants wandering the lonely roads with all their belongings tied up in a little bandana on a stick," you tease, conjuring the image of a cartoon orphan as best you can. To the girl behind the counter, you turn your full attention and the best conspiratorial smile you can conjure. "We're looking for something he'll have trouble killing," you confide with a chuckle. "Something like a snake plant, maybe? Or if you have a better recommendation we're all ears."

“It’s best to start them out with a plant before having pets or kids, isn’t it?” She asks with a grin, eyeing Marcus in amusement. “But he seems like the trustworthy type to me.”

"A fine, upstanding citizen if ever I saw one." The smirk you offer her is playful, and you glance up at Marcus beside you. "Plus, I'll be keeping an eye on the situation. For the good of the adoptee, of course."

“Of course.” She nods seriously, even though there is a definitely shaking to her voice, like she’s holding back laughter. “Let me show you the best options for a recovering black thumb.”

It's several minutes of back and forth with the florist who parries your playful banter well, and you end up leaving her stand with not just a lovely potted snake plant for Marcus, but an identical one for your apartment as well. "I had to!" You coo, when Marcus laughs at the little plant that you're cradling like a newborn. "It's so precious! And they're twins! I couldn't just leave it abandoned."

“Well, we have to name them.” Marcus decides. “Twin names.” He grins at you, “what do you think?”

"Luke and Leia," you joke right away, because that will always be the first pair of twins you think of in any situation. "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum? Oh, do the creepy girls from The Shining have names?"

Considering The Shining was his first foray into horror when he was younger, it was also one of his favorites. "No, they were just called Grady Daughters one and two." He tells you. "But..." He whips out his phone. "They are Lisa and Louise Burns, in real life."

“So are the plants Grady and Burns, or Lisa and Louise?” Either way they’re exceedingly silly choices, and you’re going for it.

“Either one works for me.” Marcus laughs. “It depends on if the plants are male or female.” He jokes.

“I think we probably get to pick,” you joke right back, making a show of rolling your eyes at him even though you’re laughing.

“Hmmmmm.” He pretends to take a closer look at his plant. “I’m going to surprise you.” He decides. “My plant is female.”

“Oh, that’s no surprise to me.” The smirk you shoot back at him is probably the lightest and most carefree you r felt in ages, and just for the moment you’re not going to second guess it. You’re just going to revel in the moment. “All my plants are female.”

He snickers with you and then tilts his head. “Lisa or Louise for you?” He asks, before he answers. “I bet you want the name Louise. You’ll pretend it’s for Thelma and Louise.”

“I—how—” Staring at him in utter confusion does not help matters one bit, but you still don’t have any clue as to how he could possibly have guessed that about you after only having met you two whole times. “So?” You ask after a second, realizing you’re laughing with the absurdity.

You have the most beautiful laughs Marcus has ever heard, and he loves that he caused it. There’s a flash of guilt that comes with the thought and he decides to reel it back into the scope of reality. You are becoming a friend, nothing more. “Who wouldn’t?” He asks, still chuckling. “They were the greatest female duo in modern cinema. In my opinion.”

“They line up against Idgie and Ruth from Fried Green Tomatoes.” You’ll stand by that pairing until the day you die, but the way warmth is spreading through your chest and your fingers ache dully from wanting to reach out for him is a special, damning sort of agony. “And I will die on that hill.”

“I had completely forgotten about Idgie and Ruth.” He admits, hanging his head in shame. “Forgive me.”

“Just this once.” There is still a teasing grin on your face when your phone goes off in your pocket. Sam’s name splashed across your caller ID and guilt crawls through your veins immediately. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, glancing up at Marcus. “Just give me one second.”

Marcus catches a glimpse of the name and it’s like he’s doused with cold water. “Of course.” He murmurs politely, turning towards a little book stand to give you some privacy, beating himself up for flirting with another man’s significant other.

“Hey honey.” The second you pick up the phone with a plant in your other arm and your groceries weighing on your shoulder, that is the second you feel most self-conscious.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice comes over the line and he has a straightforward attitude, jumping into the reason for his call. “I’ve had a dinner invite tonight, some potential donors.” He tells you. “Can you make it?”

“I—” It’s not like it’s an unusual request. If he has a work event tonight then the best possible person he can have at his side is you. The idea of having dinner with Marcus had been so uplifting, and now cancelling on him makes you feel awful. But this is your boyfriend. “Yeah. Yeah, I can make it. Where and when? Is there a dress code?”

Sam rattles off the address and dress code. “Thanks honey, I knew I could count on you.” He tells you before he murmurs to someone else. “Hey, I’ve got to go, I love you.” The line clicks off immediately.

“I love you too.” It’s said to the silence, and you look down at your phone for a moment before pocketing it again. Marcus has stepped away to give you privacy, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other before walking back over to him. “I’m really sorry,” you murmur, actually looking as apologetic as you feel. “Can we postpone dinner tonight?”

“Oh….yeah, of course.” He hates the way the feels rejected, but you have priorities, ones that aren’t him. “That’s no problem at all.” He nods quickly and looks around. “Well, we should probably get your things to your car, right?”

“I—I’m really sorry.” Repeating it just makes you feel worse. But both of you feel worse, unbeknownst to you, and you walk in the direction of your car with Agent Bailey her usual two steps behind. “Something came up.”

“Not a problem at all.” Marcus promises you, plastering on a smile as you turn to him at your car. “I understand. Believe me, I’ve had plenty of things come up.”

"It was really nice to run into you today." There is no word of a lie or even exaggeration in that, and you take your flowers from Marcus's arms carefully, loading it into the backseat with your other bags and Louise the snake plant.

“Yeah, it was nice seeing you. Marcus holds up his plant. “Thanks for the help.” He hums. “Hopefully I won’t kill Thelma.”

"If you do, try to make it as spectacular as possible." Offering him a half smile, you realize that you just wish you could give him a big hug, but that would be totally out of line. So instead all you can think to do is shift your weight awkwardly again before opening your car door. "I'll see you around, Marcus."

“See ya.” He nods and turns around to walk to his car. He doesn’t turn around, knowing that it would look weird if he did.

Once you’re in the car with Agent Bailey and focused on getting back home to put everything away and make a cup of coffee before you have to start getting ready for the night, you sigh softly and sit back in your seat. You can feel the curiosity of the Secret Service agent beside you and you wonder if you look as guilty as you. “That was a nice surprise.”

“Yes.” Agent Bailey hums. “Special Agent Pike was quite a surprise.”

“He’s nice,” you defend, very aware that you’re defending yourself and not him.

“He’s very nice.” She agrees. “And exactly who he says he is.” Of course a background check had been done on the agent, which she was glad of now that he had popped back up on radar. Not quite sure what to make of the interaction at the market, it’s also not her place to judge it.

"Well, that's a comfort." The drive back to Alexandria won't take long, but you twist your hands around the steering wheel a few times before pulling out into traffic. "Unfortunately, tonight will be the opposite," you tell her with a dramatic sigh that cushions the blow of having to attend an impromptu event. "Sam asked me to come to a dinner party tonight. Last minute invitation, I guess somebody had a seat they needed filled and asked him."

“I see.” Now she has to find out where you are going to be, who is on the guest least and it means overtime tonight. She doesn’t sigh, but she wants to, much preferring to go to small Indian restaurant over some political function. “I’m sure it will be a lovely evening.”

"I know you have to vet everything." The process seems exhausting, but you would never question the agent's ability to get her job done. "It's a private party at Arthur Connesby's house. The aerospace tech guy? Apparently it's a party for his wife, but everybody invited are Sam's constituents. I have a feeling they're going to spend the night trying to pitch their own interests to him, but if nothing else they might donate to his next campaign if they feel like they got to be friendly with him." It sounds like it will be a fairly boring night of overly rich old men feeling self-important, but Sam asked you to be there and that's why you're going.

“Noted.” The agent is immediately firing off a text to her support team, letting them know about the change of plans tonight.

"I know it's not what we had in mind." The night has gone from staying home and watching a movie and maybe playing cards, to dinner out, to an entire party. It's a lot of jumps in not much time. "And I appreciate you being flexible. Truly."

“It’s my job to protect you no matter what.” She reminds you softly. She enjoys you, has gotten to know you and thinks you are lovely, but you are Hummingbird to her. The First Daughter of the President of the United States and her assignment. She would guard you regardless of what you were doing because it’s her job.

"Right." You nod slightly, eyes cast back out on the road, and try not to slump even a little as you drive. It's not necessary to be everyone's best friend. You know that on a practical level. Right now your energy is better served focusing on the night ahead. "Well, I can still be grateful. So thank you. For...being professional. An very good at your job."

She knows that you are disappointed, but one of the cardinal rules of the secret service is to not be emotionally attached to your assignment. It would be too difficult to make life or death decisions. “Protecting you has been my pleasure.” She promises.

"I appreciate that." For better or for worse, the Secret Service will be a part of your life for the rest of your life. So if you can't be friends, at least you can appreciate each other. For now, though, you ought to focus. A party with your boyfriend's constituents is no place to have your mind wander.

The dinner party is exactly what you imagined it would be. Self important people, boasting about how important they are as they fawn over ‘more’ important people. Or the people who could give them access to the power they wished to have. Sam was in his element, smiling and shaking hands. Listening to ideas with a feigned interest that comes naturally to politicians.

He's charismatic enough to keep their attention but has enough of his own heart left that he does seem to care about issues being brought to him. Unfortunately for these folks, they're talking about a whole lot of things that just one man can't change on their behalf. So all he can really do is listen and express interest in whatever plight it is they have.

You have found yourself in the rather unfortunate position of being inundated by the significant others of these men, and when the party turns to mingling after dinner they somehow manage to whisk you away to the garden where you aren't sure if they're planning on trying to get you to dance with various people, or maybe join their country clubs, You really can't tell which.

“You must tell me, how is living in the White House?” One asks you, under the impression that you are still living with your mother.

“I understand it’s very comfortable.” It’s almost a relief that these women seem not to know a thing about you beside who your mother is. Your greatest fear about the whole thing was being hounded through every day of your life — so far that hasn’t been the case. But it’s been barely more than a month. There’s time. “However, I chose not to reside there.”

“Oh, what a shame.” She hums, wondering why you wouldn’t want to call the most famous house in America home. “I hear that it’s haunted.”

“That is what they say.” And according to your little sister, it’s absolutely true. But an upscale party of relatively stuffy guests like this doesn’t seem like the place to spout tales of your sister taking her homework to the Lincoln bedroom. “And it’s certainly very beautiful.”

“I would love to take a tour sometime.” She tells you, hoping that you might offer to set it up for her. An intimate tour would be amazing.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” You aren’t the sort of person who would exchange favors, so the thought that this could mean a donation for Sam’s campaign in the near future. Instead, you just know it would be something nice. “I can have something put together for you if you like?”

“That would be lovely!” She exclaimed, sending you a warm smile. “You know, you and the congressman make a beautiful couple. Possibly even presidential one day.” It’s a fishing expedition, feeling you out for your thoughts on a possible run.

"Possibly." And two weeks ago, you might have beamed at that implication. At the idea of Sam moving through his career with such gusto and motivation that he makes it all the way to the White House. But seeing what your father contends with as First Gentleman, the idea of being First Lady sounds overwhelming to you. It's even less likely that you would end up in politics yourself. "Sam takes his work very seriously, and he has high hopes for the future of our country."

“And what about you?” She asks. “You made waves, positive ones in my opinion, during your mother’s campaign about your stance on soulmates.”

"I don't have any political ambitions for myself." Of that, you can absolutely assure her. "While I'm more than happy to support the people around me, I'm very happy with my own career."

“At least until Congressman Chase makes an honest woman out of you.” She hums. “Then it’s so hard to balance your own career while supporting the ambitions of your husband.” There’s a rueful chuckle on her part. “Believe me, I know.”

"I won't be giving up my career." This is always a topic of conversation amongst significant others, you've found, and a topic that your father has contended with on multiple occasions. As your mother's career grew, he became a stay-at-home-dad and raised three kids. Because it was something he wanted to do, not because it was forced on him. And that has always been the key to you. "I own a business. So it's essentially my first child already."

“Oh?” Her brows wing up in surprise. “My apologies. I must have misunderstood.” Her eyes slide past you. “Excuse me, I must go catch Mrs. Jackson before she leaves.” She cuts off the conversation and hustles away.

It's a bit on and definitely abrupt, but the conversation wasn't very enjoyable to begin with so you smile politely and just let it roll off your back. Whatever she 'misunderstood' doesn't really concern you. Some gossip article must have speculated on the next steps of your relationship with Sam and you try not to let that kind of nonsense get to you.

“Having fun?” Sam comes up to you, his hand slipping around your waist and he presses a kiss to your cheek. “You look amazing, especially since it was so last minute.”

"You always like this dress." The first time you wore it was the nominating party after the Democratic National Convention, and then again to a fundraiser in Chicago. That was the night you met Sam, and he had remarked even then that the dress was particularly beautiful. It seemed like the logical choice for tonight based on that alone. "It's a nice party." The food was predictable but tasty, and the drinks are flowing, just like the way you expected the night to go. "Do we think there will be birthday cake?" You ask conspiratorially, looking up at him beside you with a smirk. "Is that something people still do for fancy fiftieth birthdays?"

“Cake is universal.” Sam snorts and nods. “I have it on good authority the cake is a chocolate raspberry mascarpone cream cake.” He tells you, knowing it will be an idea you carry back to Sydney.

"I know exactly what Saturday's dessert special is going to be." Somehow your best friend will turn a classic cake into something elegant and thoughtful, and you know the entire restaurant will go nuts for it. They always do, when Sydney gets to show off. "Are you having a good night? I know you had high hopes for networking tonight."

“It’s going well.” He hums happily and beams at you. “How about you? Working the other side for me?” He teases playfully, aware you don’t usually like campaigning.

"Nothing that will get me in trouble with my Mom's staff." Not that he would ever ask you to do anything like that. Sam doesn't go in for most of the entitled bullshit that other politicians do. "One request for a White House tour that I'll put through the appropriate channels. Nothing too odd."

“Interesting.” Sam looks thoughtful. “Who asked for that?”

"Shelly D'Amario." The wife of District Attorney-turned-Superior Court Judge Raymond D'Amario was one of the few people you had recognized from press coverage of events supporting your mother's campaign. Her husband's politics were lined up with most moderate Democrats, and he tended to hand down verdicts with thoughtful conclusions at the end of each case. He's one of those people you wouldn't have minded at all sitting at this dinner party with, but unfortunately the Judge was not able to attend.

“Oh.” Sam nods. “I was at another dinner with her and the judge just the other night.” He tells you. “Picking his brain about Constitutional law.”

“She was very nice.” Though instinct takes over, and you chew on your bottom lip for a second before going on. “Did you guys talk…about me at all? About us, I mean? At your dinner?”

“Well, naturally you came up.” Sam admits with a slight frown, wondering if Shelly had somehow insulted you. “Not everyone is dating the daughter of the current sitting President. But I didn’t share any private details about you.” He promises. “Or your family.”

“I know you wouldn’t do that.” If he was the sort of person who went around sharing personal details with anyone and everyone, you wouldn’t have been able to trust him. Especially not under the condition you met in. Campaigns are cutthroat. “She just…said something that kind of confused me, that’s all.”

“What confused you?” He asks, trying to recall the exact details of the dinner with the judge and his wife.

Without wanting to imply that he might have said anything, you still glance around you to make sure that Agent Bailey is the only one close enough by to overhear you. “She seemed to be under the impression that I would be quitting my job if we ever have a family. And when I said that wasn’t the case, she said she must have ‘misunderstood’ something and walked away immediately.”

Understand dawns in his eyes and Sam shifts slightly. “Well, that’s not something we’ve talked about just yet.” He reminds you. “That’s a conversation we need to have.”

"Right." You couldn't agree more. "Which is why I was confused that she seemed to have heard an opinion about it somewhere before. But it was probably just some gossip article."

He hesitates and then decides to come clean, you don’t like liars. “I might have voice my hopes for our future.” He admits. “It’s not so unexpected, is it?” He asks. “I’ll be spending a lot of time at different events and I will want you by my side.”

"Sam..." There's disappointment in your voice that you don't bother to hide. Of course he's absolutely entitled to talk about hopes, as he puts it, but you can't believe that he would ever think you would give up the inn. "I own the place, honey. It's not like taking a smaller role in an office or shifting to part time somewhere."

“Yes, you own it.” Sam stresses. “But you can have someone else manage it.”

"But I don't want to have someone else manage it." It's really like you can't believe your ears. Sam has never voiced anything like this before within the dynamic of your relationship and he knows very well how proud you are of your work at the inn and how much it means to you.

By the set of your jaw and the frown on your face, Sam knows that he can’t argue the point right now. He shakes his head, smiling at you and taking your hand. “You’re right. I—I wasn’t thinking about how much you love your inn.” He admits softly. “Let’s just forget about it, hm?”

"O—okay." There he is again. Your understanding, supportive Sam smiling at you and taking the stress out of the situation. The man you started dating almost a year ago. Dependable. "Okay."

“Good.” He pats your hand gently and leans in to kiss you softly. “But I do still want to talk about moving in together.”

"After our date on Tuesday?" The Valentine's night you had settled on together is dinner at a small, family-owned restaurant in his hometown followed by a fundraiser screening of short films made by local high schoolers looking to update their school's resources with the proceeds. Community-oriented is the theme of the night.

“That sounds appropriate.” He agrees with a nod. “For now, let’s just enjoy the rest of the evening.” He looks towards your secret service agent. “Will you be allowed to come to my place tonight?”

"I think that can be arranged." The invitation means you'll be sleeping over at his place twice this week, which is definitely more than you've been able to do lately and maybe that's a good thing. Maybe you just need to refocus yourself. And stop thinking about Marcus, for fuck's sake. You slip your arm around Sam's waist and lean into his side. "I just have to let Bailey know. Her relief agent will have to be told to go to your place instead of mine."

"Of course." Even though it irritates him, he nods. Understanding that you cannot help it right now. After your mother's term, perhaps you will decline protection.

"I know it isn't perfect." He's bristled about lack of privacy before, and though you can't say that you really blame him? There's nothing you can do about it. Secret Service protect for the President's immediate family is mandatory. And hell, you have a Secret Service agent in your apartment every night. At least when you stay with Sam, your agent usually stays in the living room or their car like a stakeout. It's typically left up to them. But still, you do understand the objection. "I'm sorry. It is what it is."

"I know." He sighs softly, hating that the evening has been sidetracked from what he imagined. "I understand. I just don't like them be so close when we are alone." He admits.

"I know." The last five minutes have become increasingly uncomfortable, but you still stick close to Sam and continue smiling, aware that eyes at the party might be on you just like they are anytime you go anywhere outside of your little haven at the inn. "But better that, than someone breaking into your house."

He doesn't point out that he has a security system and his townhouse is in a gate community. There's no point and it would just further cause an discussion that is best left for the relative privacy of his bedroom - with a secret service agent parked outside in his living room. He sighs. "Shall we get more wine?" He asks, trying to change the subject.

"Sure." There are people starting to dance to the music being piped through outdoor speakers, but you're not really in a dancing mood. There's too much swirling around in your mind to be light on your feet. "Wine sounds like a good plan."

Sam leads you over to the bar, ever the gentleman and stands beside you to look at the drink selections. "They have a nice pinot grigio." He murmurs softly.

"Is that what you want too?" The bar is open, of course, but the catering company has allowed the bartender to put out a small and discreet tip jar for the reasonably large party tonight, and you have a few more bills in your purse that you're happy to add to the jar.

"I think I'm going to stick with the pinot noir." He tells you, holding up his almost empty glass.

You order both glasses without hesitation and tip the very pleasant bartender, handing Sam his glass after it's put on the bar top. Just something nice to get the night back on track. At least as far as the two of you go.

"So I think that we should drink our wine and then dance." Sam suggests. It would be a good visual and romantic as a bonus. He's not calculating, but he does understand that optics are important in politics. It's a good opportunity to romance you and look good for the discreet photographers that are roaming around.

"And at some point, eat cake." Trying to lighten the mood a little is really your go-to for diffusing tension in any situation, and the air around the two of you feels a little thick, so you offer him a big smile instead of getting serious again.

"Eating cake is always a good way to spend a night." Sam agrees, smiling back at you.

"Morning." You haul yourself into the restaurant's kitchen the next morning when you arrive bright and early for your eight-a.m. start time looking vaguely less drowsy than usual. The other member of your Secret Service detail — Agent Sisson — has music taste more in line with yours and you'd listened to Duran Duran on your way back to town this morning. That and a cup of strong coffee means that you're feeling okay but definitely in need of breakfast.

“Wellllllll,” Sydney’s grin is bright as she eyes you. “I see the walk of shame has taken on a festive air.” She teases, laughing as she moves over to pour you a cup of coffee. “I take it last night went well?”

“I have enough time to go upstairs and change before work,” you grumble, though you’re smiling and accept the cup of coffee gratefully. “Usual boring party, but I bring you home a new cake flavor combination to try, and it was nice to see Sam.”

She snorts. “Nice to see Sam.” She mimics. “It’s like you ran into him in the store.” She huffs at you. “This is your boyfriend. The man you love.”

“And that’s why it’s nice to see him more than just one measly night a week.” Given that you have a few minutes, you hop up on a stool at the counter beside her work station and groan in appreciation at the slice of sweet Italian brioche and carefully cut piece of frittata she plates up for you without hesitation. “Oh my god, thank you. All I’ve had so far is coffee. We overslept and both had to run out to get to work on time.”

“Overslept…” she rolls her eyes and rubs her stomach. “I wish I could remember what that was like.” She grumbles. “This one is giving me heartburn all the time and keeping my sleep short.”

“They just really want to make sure you remember they’re there,” you tease, picking up a forkful of frittata and not even caring what’s inside. Everything Syd makes it incredible. “Twenty-seven whole more weeks of this, Mama. Get excited!”

“I am, I promise. But the kid can let me sleep in a little, right?” She huffs playfully. “So how was the dinner? You came back from the market in a hurry so I didn’t get to talk to you. Did you forget about this or was it last minute?”

“It was last minute. He got a spontaneous invitation to a potential supporter’s wife’s birthday party.” Oh my god, spinach and artichoke frittata, so fucking good. “She got the gift of bragging rights that a Congressman and the First Daughter came to her party, and a very nice bottle of champagne.”

“Sounds like a ton of fun.” Sydney likes hobnobbing even less than you do, preferring to be on the service side of fancy events. “So you ate mildly bland catered food and drank way too much wine?”

“Exactly. Which is why this tastes even more incredible than usual.” You point at your plate even while scooping up another bite. “So did you and Juanito ever decide what you’re doing tomorrow? I know you scheduled yourself for the dinner rush, but you’ve got to do something.”

“My husband is amazing.” She promises, beaming in delight. “He actually got us reservations at St. Regis for the Valentine’s Day Afternoon Tea.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet! It’s so utterly romantic I could barf.” The momentary flash of jealousy is nothing, and you’re genuinely happy that they’ll be able to get out and do something. They work so incredibly hard and never complain for a second. “It’s perfect, Syd. I want a full report.”

“I’m excited.” She admits, biting her lip and fiddling with her practical silicone wedding band that she wears in the kitchen. “I’ve also been promised a very relaxing massage and a few orgasms.”

“All things which you deserve very much.” You raise your coffee cup in salute to her and grin.

“At the very least.” She huffs, her own grin one of pure happiness. “I am growing Badillo’s baby.” She reminds you, as if it isn’t common knowledge at this point. She’s so proud of being with her soulmate and she cock her head at you curiously. “Have you given any more thought to that tattoo?” She pries gently.

“Yes and no…” It’s much more yes than no, if you’re honest with yourself, but the fact is that it’s probably not good to think about it as much as you have. It’s like a never-ending loop in your mind and you absolutely can’t shake it. “I just don’t know what good it would do to bring it up. Or who I would even bring it up to.”

“You know who you should bring it up to.” She huffs.

“Who?” You challenge, feeling like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place without doing so much as being awake this morning. “My boyfriend of almost a year who asked me to move in with him and wants to start planning our future? Or the guy I barely know who invited me to dinner yesterday when I ran into him at Eastern Market and looked so hurt when I had to ask him to reschedule that I still feel like I kicked the world’s cutest puppy?” Clearly it’s been on your mind, and Syd is really the one person you can talk to about any of it. But admitting that you’ve been thinking about Marcus feels like cheating and you have always despised cheaters deeply. Being cheated on will do that to a person.

“You ran into Marcus?” Her eyes widen with the new information and she immediately sets down her spoon and walks around the counter to hug you. “Oh honey, talk to me. What happened?” She asks softly. While she might be pushing you to at least ask if you might be soulmates, she doesn’t want you to be upset.

“It wasn’t a big deal…we ran into each other and we finished our shopping together.” It’s such a relief to have a space to talk about it, and yet you know you’re blowing it out of proportion in your head. It was just a coincidence that you ran into him. Not fate. “We were both talking about wanting Indian for dinner so he asked if I wanted to go to the restaurant with him. We were just going to hang out. Then Sam called.”

“And of course you said yes to Sam.” Sydney doesn’t exactly approve of the way Sam seems to think that you wait for his call and will drop everything to accommodate him, but she doesn’t say anything. “How did Marcus take the change of plans?”

“He said he understood and that it was fine.” Which is, technically, what happened. So when you shift your eyes away from hers, Sydney makes a noise and you cave. “He seemed disappointed,” you admit, throwing up your hands. “But I’m probably just projecting that.”

“Anyone would be disappointed to not spend time with you.” Sydney defends immediately, always the best cheerleader for you. “Maybe text him and reschedule?” She suggests. “Friends have dinner, it’s not cheating. You aren’t going out on a date.”

“I know it’s not cheating.” Syd knows better than anyone why you hate liars and cheaters. “I texted him on my way in this morning to reschedule, but I don’t…I don’t know if he’ll respond. He was probably just being polite asking in the first place.”

“I doubt that.” Sydney had seen the covert looks that each one of them had given the other when they weren’t looking during game night. Both of them were curious and she is interested to know about that hummingbird tattoo, it’s not common, despite what you might say.

“Then it’s because I’m best friends with his friend’s soulmate,” you reason instead.

“No, it’s because Juan said that Marcus was trying to be polite but that he was interested in you.” Sydney tells you.

You feel the blood drain from your face shamefully fast, and your eyes dart up to meet your best friend’s. “He said that?”

“Yes.” She isn’t going to lie to you, Juan had told her that. “But, he also said that Marcus respects relationships and he’s not the type of man to make a move on you if you’re in a relationship.” She knows how you feel about that kind of thing and she agrees with you.

“Well…I mean…that’s good? Isn’t it? That just means he’s respectful.” Still , you find yourself sitting on the idea that Marcus likes you and being halfway between mortified and grinning. It feels ultimately childish and yet like your chest is filling full of something very much like joy.

“According to Juan, Marcus Pike is the best man, the best person that he’s ever known.” Sydney acknowledges with a nod, deciding not to comment on your giddy expression. “Even though he was busy with training at the academy, he was always helping with housework or running errands to take care of things.” She shrugs. “His ex-wife was a med student. So I guess she’s a doctor now.”

“It’s just a coincidence.” This mantra of yours is going to get old quick, but you have a partner. A long term one, even. One that until a week or so ago, you had thought you had a future with. Now that resolve is waning and you don’t really know how you started to question yourself so easily.

Sensing that you’ve dug your heels in, she backs off, giving a small shrug. “I’m sure it is.” She hums. “So what are your Valentine’s Day plans with Sam?” She asks. “Did he plan something romantic?”

“We’re going to dinner and then a community fundraiser in his district.” It doesn’t sound romantic, you will admit that, but anything too luxurious you did can be perceived in a very wrong way by the general public if it gets out. A Congressman and the First Daughter going to a spa getaway or the symphony would be seen as being out of touch with the people. “He…wants to talk about the future.”

“And you don’t sound like it’s a conversation that you are eager to have.” She sits down, her own herbal tea in front of her and she frowns slightly.

“I’m…not sure, honestly.” Without hesitation and without filter, the explanation about your conversation with Judge D’Amario’s wife and what Sam said at dinner with them comes tumbling out of your mouth and you can’t help but cringe to yourself when you get it all out in the open air. “Am I overreacting? Please tell me I’m overreacting.”

Sydney winces and gives you a small shrug. “He has known from the beginning that you aren’t the type to want to be a typical politician’s spouse and give up your career.” She reminds you. “Remember that night out in Alexandria? Where we were bar hopping? I had a very frank conversation with him about that.”

“You did?” Your forehead scrunches as you take a sip of coffee. “Then why would he think I would be willing to have someone else manage the inn?”

“I don’t know if I can answer that.” She admits quietly. “But I think he gave them his true ideal. You quitting and being by his side for all his accomplishments.”

“It’s not that I’m not proud of him.” Some would argue that that is what it signals, but you and Sydney are not those types of people. “He’s doing such good work, and I do want to have kids and a house and all that domestic stuff. I just…I don’t want to give up working. And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life standing behind a podium waving politely. I’m—I want to be me, not an extension of my partner.”

“I know that.” She reaches out and takes your hand. “But does Sam? Really? I think that he can convince you that it’s what you want.” She huffs. “I know he’s a good guy, but is he the right guy?”

“Not everybody finds perfect,” you remind her quietly, knowing that that is exactly what she has with Juan. Their version of perfect is about support, respect, and unending silliness, and you’ve always craved the same. But there aren’t many men in the world like Juan. Not many at all.

“That doesn’t mean you need to settle.” She tells you, squeezing your hand gently. “If you are happy, I’m happy. All I want is for you to be happy.”

“To be honest?” Closing your eyes for a second to swallow a sigh, the best you can do is shake your head. “I didn’t think I was settling. But now I can’t help but wonder…”

“Then you owe it to yourself, and to Sam, to make sure before you commit any further.” She suggests, knowing that you would feel horrible about divorcing later on.

“How?” It’s an honest question, since the situation is tangled up in guesses and implied maybes. “Break up with Sam because Marcus might be my soulmate? What happens if I’m wrong and I regret the whole thing? Sam would never take me back and I would deserve it.”

“Ask Marcus to show you the tattoo.” She hums. “That’s not cheating. It would be no different than seeing him in swimming trunks.”

“If he ever responds to me.” Which you sort of doubt. You sort of did just drop plans with him the second your boyfriend called. But you are the kind of person who makes your relationship a priority. You always have been.

“And if he doesn’t….” She shrugs. “You just deal with that.” She frowns. “But I would be upset if you had done the same to me.”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t have a right to be upset with me.” Marcus has a right to feel however he feels. He’s human, after all. “This whole thing is just so out of left field. Especially after spending all of last year talking about freedom of affection and being happy with a partner who isn’t your soulmate.”

“Except you had never potentially met your soulmate.” She pauses and shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter, if you don’t want to pursue it, don’t. Juan won’t say anything and I’ll just encourage him to hang out with Marcus on a guys night.”

“I don’t know,” you admit honestly, poking at the remains of your breakfast with a frown. “First let’s see if he speaks to me again. I gotta go change my clothes for work.” A heavy blanket of tension works on you that wasn’t there when you came home, and you drag yourself off the stool with a swallowed sigh. “Thanks for breakfast, honey.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs, wishing for a moment that Juan hadn’t run into Marcus. Hadn’t mentioned a tattoo that was throwing you into a spin. “I’m here whenever you need.”

“Thank you.” Coming around the counter, you wrap your arms around her tightly and inhale, trying to remember your yoga and let the stress roll off your shoulders and not carry it into the work day. “And I’m always here for you. No matter what.”

“I know.” She grins into your shoulder. “You’re my best friend, bitch.” She teases. “I will go to war for you, bury bodies and not even think twice.”

"No hesitation." You link your pinkies together, the same way you have since you were little kids. "I really have to go change now. But thanks for listening to me ramble and fret."

“Anytime.” She scoffs, waving away your thanks. “You’ve listened to me plenty.” Lately it’s been about being a good mother and not completely wrecking Baby Badillo, but she understands the need to just vent. You’re there for one another, both of you, through thick and thin.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #love triangle

[mysterycitrus]

hi! i' m really loving persephone but i was a little confused about how you're writing jason (and roy). i read through the author's note but i havent read a tonne of earlier comics yet so i just wanted to ask about your characterisation of him? its really different from other fic ibe read

hello! firstly, thank u for the question. i included that chunky list of comics at the beginning of persephone cause i knew how i was writing some of the characters (SPECIFICALLY jason and roy lmao) would be pretty different from popular mainstream interpretations of them. even if most people can acknowledge rhato 2011 was a bad comic these days, it's still (unfortunately) a foundational comic for a lot of jason fans.

the long answer is jason is a very popular character, but because he hasn't had an actual good comic since 2005 a lot has to be filled in to make him a "consistant" character. if u actually analyse any of his modern comics with knowledge of other characters, u would probably notice that: a) 99% of his relationships are stolen from dick grayson wholesale, with no development, b) 99% of what makes him popular was stolen wholesale from characters like selina kyle, helena bertinelli, and stephanie brown, and c) that everything politically interesting about his concept has been watered down to like... a sometimes angry dude who doesn't even use guns anymore.

roy is a separate issue - i truly dont believe most people who identify as royandjason fans have read anything preboot about roy, cause otherwise they'd understand that he would not do any of the things he does in rhato, and he definately wouldn't be besties with his best friends thirteen year old brother.

jason as he exists in fan spaces is a guy who is devoid of nuance, and is basically a reskinned 90s dick grayson stand in. that's not interesting to me. his original conception - the fact that he's from park row, he struggles with violence, he was a fundamentally kind person who isn't anymore because of things outside his control..... that's someone who could engage with batman's legacy in a cool way! a guy with his own moral values who does terrible things but still believes in the inherent value of his personal crusade! when i was writing him, it was important that yes, he can be quippy and fun, but he's also a person who's done a lot of fucked up things, and people aren't going to just roll over and think he's the coolest guy ever cause the writer treats him like a self insert.

the short answer is that im a roy harper fan and i haven't known peace since 2011.

#sorry this turned out way too long but i hope this answers ur question! #anti rhato #roy harper #dc comics #batfam #the ask and the answer #persephone tag

[demonbarbers]

so high rn so sorry if this doesn’t make any sense i’m just so emotional about josh and annaleigh and this production so i’m gonna ramble a bit about what i love about it and them. ok. enjoy.

the thing about sweeney todd is that it’s mean. it’s a mean show. it ends on the cruel irony of 2 officers bursting in on toby slitting sweeney’s throat, surrounded by 2 other bodies and one in the oven; on johanna watching her father die holding her mother and not even knowing it. everyone is an abuser or abused, and there is no hope or redemption to be found. and it fucking rules! it just rules. it’s so fun to indulge in our basest pleasures for nearly 3 hours, delicately served to us by one of the greatest composers who’s ever lived.

and every major production takes the bile and cruelty inherent to the material and runs away with it. like- just look at this swedish production from 2006, directed by vernon mound. or the last time it was on broadway, directed by john doyle:

productions tend go smaller and nastier, more intimate, in keeping with the spirit of how sondheim originally conceived the piece. (side note: i LOVE when they do that. my ideal sweeney has buckets of blood and visera right in your face)

the original production of sweeney was MASSIVE, but that came from hal prince. hal couldn’t really get an emotional foothold on the material until he found within sweeney an extended metaphor for capitalism and the industrial revolution; people literally eating people and the machine of capitalism grinding everyone up. revivals also tend to seize on the brechtian class elements, like this absolutely gorgeous korean production from 2019 directed by eric schaeffer:

sondheim, meanwhile, always objected to readings of sweeney as brechtian- it was all a farce to him, just a good, nasty time at the theatre. he approached it as a horror fan who wanted to write some fucked up stuff, which is maybe now some of the best art is created. but hal made it into epic theatre.

(if u don’t know what epic theatre is or what brechtian means google will explain it better to u than my ridiculously stoned ass can rn but im just focusing on one aspect of it rn: the distancing effect. basically, emotionally distancing the audience from the characters and the material so that everyone is engaging with the work on an intellectual level as opposed to an emotional one)

obc sweeney is an alienating show. it’s so fun and brutal and deeply felt, but these characters are grotesque. they’re cartoonish in their cruelty. just look at their makeup! john doyle also embraces the distancing effect; his revival is actor-muso, so we’re pretty aware at all times we’re watching a show. it’s all so cold, and the only warmth to be found is in the humor. and it rules. it’s nasty. i love it. this is the show i fell in love with.

all these things have become inherent to sweeney over time, all teased out of the greatest broadway show to ever exist; visceral horror, cruelty, coldness, and class commentary.

but this revival is just.. it’s warm! it’s lush! it’s romantic! and i don’t mean that in the sense of lovett and sweeney (tho this is the warmest they’ve ever been towards each other in any major production i’ve seen). i mean that it gestures at and plays with romanticism.

my biggest critique of this production is, in doing away with the brechtian elements (sondheim just cheered), it also does away with overt class commentary. it’s all still there in the text- turpin is a corrupt judge, beadle is effectively a sheriff, sweeney and lovett are working class, the beggar woman is homeless- but as a director tommy kail seems… uninterested in any biting political commentary, to put it generously lmfao. and i hate so much how little of it there is to be found in this revival, bc you can still Do It without invoking brecht. but i’ve long made my peace with that. i wanna talk about what i love.

and what i really love and what kept me returning to it (beyond the fact that it’s sondheim, and it’s sweeney, and josh groban is so stupid fucking hot) is how human everyone is. the entire production, from the ground up, is built around taking these characters and their pain seriously.

the ensemble all have incredibly period accurate costumes, unique to each character they’ve crafted (fun fact even the swings have their own unique costume that’s only seen when they perform). gone is toby as a mentally disabled man child with an oedipal fixation on lovett. in gaten’s hands he’s a young teenager, aging out of being a cute urchin and just looking for a mother. in daniel’s hands he’s beaten down young man with a limp and a genuine love for lovett.

ruthie’s beggar woman has developed DID after a brutal rape and the trauma of institutionalization and homelessness. she’s not played for laughs, even if sometimes the audience chuckles, and she makes u feel guilty if you ever did laugh at her situation. daniel yearwood leans so far into anthony as a sweet guy completely unaware of the story he’s actually in to the point of comedy. maria is just a revelation as johanna, all nerve and tension and bloody nails from years of self-harm. it’s easy to lean into johanna as a princess track, but ~crazy~. and maria plays jo as mentally ill and traumatized from years of incesteous abuse, but it’s not a pastiche or a praody of it. jo feels human in a way i’ve never seen her depicted before. i love it. maria bilbao u have my heart forever for this.

and then josh and annaleigh…. ugh!!! annaleigh really captures the avarice at the heart of lovett, but still brings in enough genuine moments of humanity and compassion that you find yourself (like sweeney and toby) endeared to her. lovett is always cruel and can only love through manipulation, but annaleigh’s lovett is a woman who makes small concessions. bit by bit, piece by piece, she erodes whatever goodness she had inside her until nothing but her desire for sweeney is left. she’s a woman who’s used seduction to get her way, and it’s easy to envision that when lucy returned from turpin’s, she shamed her for “giving it away” without getting benjamin back. she’s a monster! and yet, when she dreams of a better life, you feel it. when she holds toby in her arms and cried at her perfect little life unraveling, you feel it. annaleigh makes you laugh so hard she gets under your skin and stays there, exactly how lovett seduces sweeney in ALP. and there it is- identification! the complete opposite of alienation. we’re in it with them.

and then there’s josh and his sweeney… i really feel like his sweeney is undervalued. annaleigh steals the show. she won the drama desk for a reason. it’s a legendary performance. but josh…. man. i just. i keep returning to josh’s open wound of a sweeney over and over again. i think he’s probably had this take bouncing around in his head for years. they smartly leaned away from sweeney as this embodiment of rage and physical menace, which surprised a lot of people. but instead leaned into sweeney’s grief in a way i haven’t seen any major production do. josh’s sweeney feels like a man who was put on this earth to be a father and a husband. there’s a buried sweetness to him and you can still see benjamin barker in him until the very end. i keep calling him “kendall roy sweeney” bc it’s the closest way i can covey to other ppl what josh is doing here. he’s all big sad eyes and suicidal ideation, tragedy and twitchy hands. he’s so deeply pathetic he just endears himself to you. i want sweeney to succeed more than ever before. even though he spends all of act 2 killing people and being a shit father and thus killing benjamin barker, i still find myself wanting him and lovett to get away with it. and when the reveal comes, and even worse the betrayal hits- that this woman who he let into his life and body and who, in some odd way, became a friend, lied to him this entire time- it hits like never before for me.

i just love it all so much. i’m so happy it exists, so happy this revival does something so new! sondheim has said sweeney todd is a show about obsession, and it is. this revival supposes: what is the difference between love and obsession? what if the two look the same?

i think often of this quote from luca guadagnino’s suspiria (a masterpiece btw): “Love and manipulation, they share houses very often. They are frequent bedfellows.”

to me, that’s this revival in a nutshell- the thin line between love and obsession, and all the blood spilled in between.

#2023 revival #sweeney todd #.txt #josh groban #annaleigh ashford #i’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense. i’m crying rn. i love this production i miss josh and annaleigh soooo much

[writingfool001]

Can u make f!Yuu that goes to the all princess school but a prince fell in love with her not knowing she was destined to marry a one of the dorm leaders but she is happy because she gets a happy ending so she rejects him infront of every guy and girl as there in shock and she explains why and the dorm leaders react to her saying that she is Destined to marry a villian

I Already Found my Happily Ever After

Author's Note: I am starting out with three and complete the other four later. Please remember the 3-character limit per request. If I ever write about female reader, they will be strong.

Pairing: Riddle, Leona, and Azul x Female Reader

Part 2 (Jamil, Vil, Idia, & Malleus) Part 3 (Kalim, Rook, & Lilia)

It was a joint school get together or basically what prom would be with several academies together which was an upside for you and your lover. You barely have had the time to see each other since both of you go to different schools and your school would rather affiliate themselves with the Royal Sword Academy than Raven Night College. 

When the event was announced, the headmistress advised everyone to be on their best behavior and if anyone from another school tried to force themselves, you had full permission to take care of the problem or find an instructor. Yeah, your headmistress had zero tolerance for assholes. She also mentioned that it was NRC's turn this year to  

You met up with each other at the event and your lover was dressed handsomely as he stood out in the crowd. You both decided to have a nice night, wanting to enjoy the time with each other. He complimented you on your attire and gave you a kiss on the cheek before escorting you to the main hall where the event was being held. 

At some point, you stepped away to use the restroom and right as you were on the way to return, a figure stepped into the middle of your path which made you stop. 

“My humble apologies, but I couldn’t help ignoring your gorgeous self and was wondering if I could possibly have this dance as your date.” He started bowing and held his hand out. 

“Sorry, but I’m here with someone,” You decline politely, stepping around him to continue on your way and only get a couple feet away before he spoke again.  

“What could be better than dancing with a prince and possibly your future true love?” He said, causing you to freeze as others paused and watched the interaction.  

“What could be better than that, you ask?” You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, “Dancing with my betrothed.”  

“Who could he possibly be? Possibly from RSA?”  

“Nope, he goes to NRC.”  

“A villain?! Are you mad?”  

“Nope, I’ve always loved the villain more than the hero. Perhaps all the other girls, fawning after you, will take up your proposal.”  

You walk off, leaving many people’s jaws on the floor as you made your way over to your beloved who saw you publicly humiliate some prince. 

Riddle 

He was flustered after hearing the entire thing and stuttered a bit because he just saw you publicly reject a student from RSA and chose to stay with him. 

He feels proud and happy that you would rather stay with him than run off with some prince. Gracefully, he bows and takes your hand before kissing your knuckle before escorting you to the dance floor. Internally, he was celebrating and was applauding you for standing up for yourself.  

He was a bit panicked when you talked back to his mother once and stood your ground. It took him a while to get used to it and after a while, you would occasionally do the whole "he asked for no pickles' ' a couple of times. He introduces you to Trey and Che'nya, who coincidentally keeps you company whenever your school and RSA get together for some sort of event. 

Che'nya has kept Riddle informed of all the boys at RSA who have tried to "wow" you and every time, you rejected them, and you tell your classmates that you already found your happy ever after.  

He was worried your opinion would change when he overblotted and the level of worrying got worse when he woke you sleeping in a chair, next to his bed. When you woke up, he was ready for you to break off your engagement and had a whole speech before you kissed him and told him he was stuck with you.  

His heart melted at the compliment and was flushed before telling you that he was going to confront his mother about everything she did while he grew up. Trey and Cater showed up with a small group of new boys and a cat. 

You thanked them for saving him and looking after him before bluenette asked who you were and told them you are Riddle’s fiancé. The three new faces’ eyes widened, and jaws dropped as the calmer one of the four just nodded. After that, you make sure to have a small study call with Riddle and check on him to make sure he’s okay. When winter break came around, you were waiting for him in your hometown and told him that you had your family on speed dial in case his mother became violent. He just smiled brightly and took his hand in yours before walking back to his house, readying to face the beast. 

If there was to be one thing that came out well with his mother’s involvement, it was the betrothal between you two. He hopes you will stay by his side in the future.  

Leona 

Smugish face, he has made ever since you two met, and lets out a hearty chuckle as he approaches before holding his arm out for you to take before you both strutted away from the unknown prince. 

One of the many things he cherished about you was your bite and he remembers the first time you returned his snide remark with your own. The appalled look of his parents when they watched you two interact after meeting each other for the first time while your father chuckled as your mother would light lecture you later. Overtime, it was fun to have you around, especially during the gatherings you both had to attend. 

Even during some of those, some noble's son tried to propose and sweep you off your feet before failing. This even happened to Leona, he either let them make their case or refuse. 

After a while you two would bet who would approach either of you to try to come between you two. 

"They seem to get bolder, but never learn." You spoke under your breath, causing Leona to chuckle. 

"I'll wager you're right, my queen." He kissed the crown of your head before continuing to lead you to the botanical garden for a nightly walk. 

Azul 

Internally, he has stopped working and wants to disappear to his octopi while he hides his small blush by pushing up his glasses. He wishes he had your boldness sometimes, but he remembers he'd rather leave bold moves to you. 

You both met originally when he was somewhat getting bullied while the twins weren't around. They were threatening him before you showed up and showed them you weren't going to put up with their shit. Afterwards, he thought you would want something in return and all you said was his friendship which stunned him. He decided to see how long you would stick around, thinking it would be short time. 

Welp, he was wrong because you became part of the small trio and stuck next to Azul more than the twins. You knew a majority of things about him, yet he knew nothing about you and when asked, you would tell him you had a family and lived down the way from his home. His mother decided to have a business meeting with a local restaurant owner to see if they would be interested in working with her. Azul questioned why she wanted him to come along and was told that they had a daughter around his age.  

To his shock when he saw you, sitting next to the owner of the restaurant and having a light conversation before noticing the shocked octopus. You revealed everything to him, and a majority of the evening was you two talked the night away without noticing the two parents who saw the small spark between you two as you lightly teased Azul. 

It would be a couple of months later before a suggestion of being engaged to one another came up which didn't surprise you since Azul mumbled something about marrying you while you two were studying. Nothing really changed between the two of you other than occasional dinner dates and close family teasing you two. Of course, there were moments where you two would argue and walk away from each other for space before either one of you or both of you would come together to talk it out.  

The same routine would happen when you two were studying at different academies. You both would text and send each other small trinkets or gifts that reminded you of each other. Every now and then, you two would meet up somehow to spend time with each other. 

Azul held his hand out to you before kissing you gently on the cheek, causing you to smile. He led you to the dance floor before dancing the night away with you. 

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twst #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #riddle x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #happily ever after au

[greenerteacups]

Hi! Just wanted to say the latest chapter is lovely & amazing & sweet & had me smiling the whole time! I absolutely love your characterisation of everyone, especially Draco, so it was so so lovely to return to this world & to his thoughts!! with his best friend and crush at malfoy manor no less! All the yearning is already off to a great start hehe I am so excited for the rest of book 5!

Wanted to ask you how has it been for you to write this new book and volume? Has your writing process changed since when you’d first begun taking on a long form project like this?

& also are there any moments or surprises in this book that you’re especially excited about?

sending so much love & gratitude for you and your incredible works 💓

Thank you so much! This is really encouraging, I so appreciate it.

Inasmuch as I can use this metaphor without having kids myself, I sort of see each of the books as a different child. The first one flew out in basically a few weeks of very intensive writing, and it was a total dream — plot, pacing, symbolism, major beats, all fell into place basically without effort. The character stuff was the hardest, as I've written about before, but even then, the glorious part of writing beginnings is it's the most energy you'll ever have for a project, so the lows were pretty soft lows. Book 2, in contrast, I had to drag kicking and screaming by its ankle from under the bottommost mattress of my brain. It's one of my least favorite books (tone problem; COS has killer plot/setting/ingredients for a YA novel, but it's stuck in the doldrums of Harry Potter's well-documented Early-Installment Weirdness, before Cedric Diggory slams the gas and upshifts the whole series into its correct age bracket). More specifically, once I'd gone through and picked out everything in the book that happened because of Lucius, I didn't have a plot — hey alexa how do you rewrite Chamber of Secrets when We Got No Fucking Chamber Of Secrets — and oh by the way, even if you want to do a moody tone/political setup book, remember that your protagonists are still twelve, so if you go too dark or too intense, you'll risk torpedoing your readers' suspension of disbelief. Good luck, Charlie.

Book 3 felt the most like its own novel, if that makes sense? It's the last truly feel-good book of the series; it's a great stand-alone mystery novel with relatively low stakes. Plus you get a bunch of the big series icons: patronuses, dementors, werewolves, Hogsmeade, the Marauders' Map, and time turners arithmancy. It just felt like a good old-fashioned motherfucking romp of a mystery/adventure story, before any of the complex character work and major stakes of the late books come in.

Book 4 was the most fun I've had writing anything maybe ever. I don't even know what it was. Maybe the tournament arc, honestly? Love me a tournament arc. But in any case, I opened every new chapter feeling a tingle of excitement for what I was gonna get to do. Oh, and the romance started, finally, Jesus God (if it feels like a slow burn reading, just imagine what it felt like writing it, when everything takes ten times as long, and you have to figure out how to word the fucker.)

Book 5, in contrast, has felt much less like that tingle of "here we go!" and more like "oh, man, this is gonna be cool." Because this is the arc of the story that composed the original idea for Lionheart, literally years ago, and to be honest, I didn't think I'd get this far! If you'd asked me "do you know that it's going to take you 500,000 words of backstory before you can start writing that concept you're thinking about, and you're going to do it anyway?" I would have said: "absolutely not, strange mind-reader!" But like... I'm here! Finally! And it's... real now? Like, this isn't just a bunch of clips of scenes in my head anymore! That's rad!

That being said, it's definitely been slower than Book 4, because I kept switching back to my outline document to make sure that certain things were set up properly, and that I hadn't lost any of the plot threads or forgotten a minor beat that was vitally important for the story three chapters later. And I had a minor crisis about three months ago when I ripped out about 8 chapters in the first third of the book — basically everything from September to December — because I'd done a readthrough to check pacing (big mistake! never edit while drafting, that's satan talking) and realized I had a missing storyline. Like, there was a whole layer of the story that was just. Missing. Not there. And the existing text really couldn't fit another thread, so instead of taking weeks to pore through and try to sift out what I could save, I needed to factory reset and start over. And I didn't want to! I vividly remember sitting there with my head in my hands, trying not to weep, because I'd decimated 90,000 words of work in a single edit. But it had to be done. Because the story wasn't going to work. And now (hopefully) it will.

And of course, there's still that sense of excitement and exhilaration from before. Always. But whereas Book 4 felt like a delicious chocolate pudding, Book 5 is a medium-rare steak.

(Book 6, so far, is four shots of espresso and a whiskey chaser. FWIW.)

#greenteacup asks #lionheart #lionheart spoilers #dramione

[devilscastle69]

panic! at the drugstore (j/jk, nanami)

hiiiii @ezynse merry xmas, happy new year, happy day. <3

im ur secret santa. <33 i hope u like this fic. ily. i want u to know the j key on my keyboard is challenged so i wrote "Goo" by accident sm ToT

(sorry for the title i dont even rlly listen to them i- )

please keep this to sneeze kink blogs only! 18+ only!

Summary stuff:

Fandom: J/JK

Characters: Nan//ami, Go/jo, Ijic/hi, Yu/ji,

Pairings: slight nana/go. in the way la croix has flavor

Good future AU (no bad stuff, everyones an adult. set in 2023)

As soon as Nanami detected Gojo’s presence, he should have turned on his heel and left. Instead, he’d gone into the drugstore, reasoning that the necessity of his trip outweighed the aggravation it’d cause. He wasn’t naive enough to hope he’d get out of here without any additional psychic damage but maybe he’d luck out and Gojo would— 

“Nanami!” Gojo sang from a few aisles over. This was starting to play out like one of his nightmares. Verbatim. “Wow, you shop here too?!” 

“Not anymore.” 

Gojo laughed easily and brushed off the obvious rejection with a wave of his hand. “Oh, don’t act like you’re not happy to see your best buddy!”

“I have no such thing.” Nanami sighed and drew out a cough in the process which he managed to muffle into the sleeve of his jacket. Anyone else would have read the room and left him alone, but Gojo continued to chatter on at a volume unfit for the public space they were in. If only he’d move back a few centimeters so Nanami could escape without having to push past him and potentially causing a bigger scene than they’re already causing. He’d already used up his energy—both cursed and otherwise—at work today and he was quickly fading. 

 For the first time, he wished he could focus on the bubblegum pop blasting through the speakers with its sentiments of Sakura blossoms and old times; it would beat trying to follow the embellished story Gojo was telling. He pinched the bridge of his nose. To make matters worse, the temperature change had caused the congestion that had mostly settled by the end of the train ride over here to return with a vengeance. His nose threatened to drip and he risked a small sniffle. Immediately, he recognized it as a mistake when the lingering prickle sharpened and traveled deeper into his nose.

As if he hadn’t sneezed enough today. 

“And after all that I got some wagashi at this great place near the hospital, Great Luck right? And haha it was! Anyway, the point is… I got some stuff for Yuji, but then I got hungry waiting for the car so I figured I’d better make up for it.”

Nanami made a point of checking his watch as a last ditch effort for a polite departure, less for Gojo’s sake and more for the sake of everyone else in this godforsaken store. But most of all for his own sake, considering he’s quickly losing the battle against the pertinent tickle up his right nostril. “I don’t have time to talk,” he said evenly, breath only wavering once he’s gotten the last word out. 

Unfortunately, Gojo clasped his shoulder, refusing to let him leave. “Did you take the train here? We could carpool instead, Ijichi is—”

“ht’KKxt!” Nanami interrupted with a poorly restrained sneeze directed into the sleeve of his jacket. 

“Bless you!” Gojo’s head lolled to the side; he had the decency to release him, but otherwise didn’t move out of his personal space. Nanami nodded and turned away. “Wow, that sounded painful. You okay?”

It was. “hGNXt’ch! h’kKt…chh.” Damnit. “Hh- kmpht’Chhh!” He might not have been able to see Gojo’s eyes, but he sure could feel them on him. This tickle just wasn’t going to quit until he let it out, and he’d rather end this as soon as possible. “h’eSCHh!” 

“Oh bless you.” Gojo, ever uncaring of displaying any decorum, took zero steps away from him. He examined him from a few different angles, tapping his chin as he hovered. “Bet I can guess why you’re here today!”

“Excuse me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed small circles all the way into the inner corners of his eyes and tried to ignore the heat that had risen to his ears. His head pounded even harder than it had before. 

“Always so formal, huh?”

Always so inappropriately casual, huh? Nanami glanced at Gojo’s basket and its contents: strawberry shampoo, bags of candy, winter apple body wash, face masks, moisturizer, cotton candy flavored lip gloss, and more items he couldn’t quite make out, but surely none of them were essential enough to inconvenience Ijichi in the way Gojo was. Everything he’s learned about Satoru Gojo has been against his will, and now he’s horrified that his brain was wasting the time wondering if he’s one of those people who can’t go to the store and truly buy one item.

“So, how was your—”

“I don’t have time to talk. Excuse me.” Risking a shoulder check, Nanami walked towards the aisles. He tried not to sniffle more than strictly necessary and tried to ignore the extra set of footsteps behind him. Key word was tried.

“Oh wow, you really sound terrible.” Gojo said sympathetically, continuing to haunt Nanami all the way to the cold and flu aisle. “How long have you had that cold?”

Why did it have to be Gojo?

“Stop following me.”

“You forgot your basket, though.” 

So he did. “I don’dt need that much.” It was true, but Nanami accepted the basket anyway from the pouting man. 

“Mm, really? You kinda sound like you’re dying, y’know.” Gojo wandered around the aisle and picked up a box of medicine that he held up to his blindfolded eyes. “No offense.” A man started walking in their direction, took one look at Gojo, and immediately turned around. Nanami released a small forlorn sigh through gritted teeth.

“I’ll be finde.” he said, clearing his throat. He could curb the hoarse quality his voice had taken on, but the congestion was something he’d have to live with for now. “You mentionded Ijichi is waiting?”

“Yeah, so hurry up, Nanami!”

“I will n’dot be ri-ridi’hhgg wih—” He’d gotten distracted and hadn’t noticed that the itch from before had been slowly respawning. Gojo gave a questioning hum as Nanami his knuckle to his nose, sniffled sharply, and cleared his throat again. “I will not be riding with you.”

 “Aw, not with me?” 

Nanami shot him a glare. All of his efforts were in vain because the urge to sneeze returned with a vengeance and demanded his attention in a way that put Gojo’s efforts to shame. The prickle spread like wildfire through his sinuses, and in spite of his efforts in snuffing it out, he’d allowed himself to get distracted enough to give the enemy the advantage. “Hh-!” He inhaled sharply before shoving the back of his wrist up to his nose. “nGhthsCH! hh’NGXTCHh’ueh!” That last one had been particularly loud but had been just as unrelieving as its predecessors. “hehH’TSChhiuh!”

 Gojo patted his back. There was a warmth to his palm that Nanami could feel even through the layers of fabric acting as a buffer between them. “Bless you.” Using only his free hand, he easily broke the seal of a travel pack of tissues on the shelf and nudged a few tissues into Nanami’s palm.

“You’re supposed to pay first.” In spite of the protest, he fixed his glasses that were in danger of falling off his face and accepted the tissues; by noon, his handkerchief had become unusable and he’d already gone through the tissues he’d accepted at the train station this morning, so his options were limited. He turned away for a moment to blow his nose. While his efforts were productive, they did little to kill the taunting buzzing in the back of his nose. He pinched his nostrils shut from behind the tissue and willed the tickle to recede.

“Not yet! Hey if I buy your stuff will you ride with me? Wouldn’t you get back sooner that way? Oh, bless—”

“hh’MPHtchh!”

“—you again!”

He took a moment to massage the bridge of his nose in a silent apology to himself for the poor attempt at stifling before clearing his throat and bringing up sodden tissue to wipe the lingering moisture from the red rims of his nostrils. 

No amount of free cold medicine would make spending his free time with this absolute menace in a small enclosed space worth it, but at the same time it’d be less aggravating for him to just go along with it in the long run. Gojo’s already made it clear he has no intention of leaving him alone. He gave half a nod and picked up the first bottle of cold medicine that he saw and a bag of face masks and took a few steps in the direction of the check out. 

“That’s all you’re buying?” Gojo asked. His lips formed an exaggerated frown and his forehead wrinkled as if he was bewildered by Nanami’s shopping habits.

Nanami was too busy fighting a losing battle against the threat of another sneeze to tell Gojo to stop adding more items to the basket, but he managed to shoot him a pointed glare before his expression crumpled. “Hh- hehhH- …mPHTtshhiuh! Pardon,” he said more out of habit than anything and wiped his nose again, “I have more than enough now.” 

“So frugal.”

He supposed the cough drops, vicks, lotion tissues, vitamins, and nasal spray wouldn’t hurt, especially if accepting them will get Nanami out of here faster. Since he’d already opened the tissues, he figured he might as well put on one of the masks in the pack. His glasses immediately fogged and he tucked them into his inner coat pocket.

After they’d approached the register Gojo told the cashier they would be paying together and nuzzled his cheek against Nanami’s shoulder in an intimate way. He’d smack him later. 

The cold pierced through Nanami’s coat as soon as they opened the door. As annoying as this situation is, he can’t say he’s upset that he won’t have to walk back to the train station. They turned a corner and Gojo pointed out the car. 

“I know, I know.” Gojo opened the door to the passenger side and abruptly wrapped an arm around Nanami’s shoulder, yanking him into the field of vision as if he’d run away. “That took a little longer than I said, but look who I ran into!”

“Nanamin!” Itadori called out from the back seat with a cheery wave. Nanami is just as surprised to see him, though he’d mostly tuned out Gojo’s story. “No way, what a coincidence!”

Nanami shot Gojo a withering look and gave a slight bow to Itadori. “Itadori-kun…” 

“Think fast!” Gojo called out and threw a bag of candy at Itadori. 

He caught it easily. “Wow, thank you, Gojo-sensei!” 

“Gojo-san, we were meant to be back over a half hour ago—“

“Ijichiiii, you need to relax. Seriously, you’re already getting frown lines, that’s no good. Look, I even got something for you. Tadaaa~” He dropped a pack of instant udon into his lap and a face mask and made himself comfortable in the passenger seat. “Can you drop Nanami Kento-kun off first?”

“Don’t call me that.”

Ijichi sighed and took a moment before he half-heartedly thanked Gojo for the gifts. Then he turns to look at the backseat. “Of course, Nanami-san.” He and Nanami shared a quick glance as the cause of their stress tore into his own pack of candy and ate it noisily. 

“Oh, why are you wearing a mask, Nanamin?” Itadori asked as Nanami sat next to him and put on his seatbelt. “Do you have a cold?”

“It’s alright,” Nanami assured him and cleared his throat, “just a mild one.”

“I dunno if mild is the right word there, Nanamin.” Gojo interjected as Ijichi finally started driving.  

Itadori’s face fell and Nanami sincerely considered kicking the back of Gojo’s chair, though he was too busy pinching his nose shut over the fabric of the mask to stifle a sneeze that had nearly escaped his detection. “hGXxt’chshh!- excuse me.”

“Bless you. I hope you feel better soon.” Itadori frowned and offered him a piece of candy. Nanami shook his head and Itadori shrugged and ate it himself. 

“You’re gonna pop an eardrum like that,” Gojo chastised, clicking his tongue.

All of this was past the point of the nightmare he’d thought he was having earlier and was starting to veer into the fever dream category. Perhaps in more ways than one. Gojo flicked through the radio stations until he found what he was looking for and started singing along with a pop song. Itadori joined him and they pointed at each other while Nanami reflected on his life choices and folded his arms more tightly over his chest.  

Nanami glanced at Ijichi’s GPS. Twenty minutes of this felt like a death sentence. His limbs had started aching a few hours ago and now that the adrenaline was long dead and he was sitting again, he felt it in full force. The sudden urge to lean his temple against the foggy window arose and he indulged in it, ever so slowly pressing his forehead to the window. 

While Gojo was especially pitchy, the noise at least took the focus off of Nanami as he muffled a series of throat-tearing coughs against the crook of his arm. His lungs gave a slight whine as he regained his breath and he could feel the silent attention the other three men were giving him. 

“Can you breathe okay, Nanamin?” Itadori asked, patting his shoulder. If it were anyone else, Nanami would have batted the hand away, but doing that to Itadori would feel like kicking a puppy and it's not like he was heartless. While most people become hardened and jaded after living the life of a jujutsu sorcerer, Itadori remained as kind and genuine as ever over the years. 

Instead he nodded. “Yes. Don’t worry.” 

Itadori gave him a thumbs up. The singing continued and he pitied Ijichi for how long he’s had to put up with Satoru Gojo today. 

To Gojo’s credit, he toned down the singing, but Nanami almost wished he’d go back to his caterwauling, because his nose had chosen that moment to betray him yet again. It itched like mad and putting pressure on the tip of his nose did nothing to chase the feeling away. He did his best to muffle it into his sleeve anyway, hoping the extra layers would do anything to make it less intrusive than he knew it would be. “Hh- hgzt’SChhiuh! heHMPHhshh’ieuh!- pardon me.”

“Aw, bless you,” Gojo chimed in, stretching out his seatbelt as he turned his body around to face him. “Do you want my jacket, Nanamin?” He puckered his lips.

This time he let his shoe dig into the bag of Gojo’s chair. “No.”

Ijichi quietly turned up the heat. “Give him a break, Gojo-san,” he said tiredly. 

The rest of the ride quite literally blurred together as Nanami fought to keep his eyes open. With the heat on, his chills were kept at bay, and it was easy to drift off to sleep. He jolted and shook himself awake at least three times before the familiar building came into view, and the third time, it’d been because Itadori was saying his name to get his attention. Ijichi pulled up closer and stopped the car. Nanami thanked him for the ride and held up a hand to stop Itadori from offering a side hug. 

“Get well soon, Nana—”

Nanami shut the car door and ignored the rest of Gojo’s sentence. Getting into the apartment was a blur, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d come home in rough shape, relying on autopilot. He immediately hung his jacket and loosened his tie, and then he removed his face mask, cringing as he pinched away the lingering moisture from his nostrils. He’d done his best to avoid rubbing his nose all day, but his efforts seemed to be in vain considering how sore it still was. 

As much as he wanted to just collapse into the couch, his discipline won out and he managed to undress. Though, not without challenge. “huhh…HGSCHh’uh!” He sneezed all over his chest, too slow to cover in his exhausted state. Undeniably, it was a relief to be able to sneeze freely in the privacy of his bedroom. “hh-...hDJtSchh’euh! hhaH’DTzSHhh’ih!” 

He found the tissues from the bag and blew his nose, letting out a slight hum of relief as some of the congestion came free. His eyes still ached and with a quick dose of medicine, he was ready to close them. He laid in bed with the extra throw blanket atop the comforter and waited for the chills to die down so he could sleep.

It  was restful for the first few hours. As he’d anticipated, he woke up in the early hours of the morning coughing, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and his mouth bone dry. 

3 AM. 

It was too early for this. He forces himself into the kitchen to fill a tall glass with water and to find a few more items from the bag. He took the cough drops out and put one in his mouth and placed the rest of the bag on the bedside table. 

Somehow knowing that he needed as much sleep as possible hindered him from doing so. He drifted in and out of sleeping for the entire morning, occasionally walking up mumbling something incomprehensible. 

He was finally asleep until his phone went off a few minutes past 6 AM. It wasn’t his alarm, but an obnoxious ding.

Gojo: 

heyyy nanamin~ 

… Nanami clenched his jaw as he watched the animated ellipses bubble and waited to see what could possibly be so important to disturb him.

Gojo:

good morning! 🌞hope u get some rest today hahaha :D you sounded awful 🤒dont go dying </3

Typically jujutsu sorcerers have about as much paid sick leave as he would’ve had at his former company: basically none. What kind of fucked up—

Nanami frowned, realizing he’d missed some other notifications, including the ones canceling his mission for the day. It’s easy to put the pieces together. He had to put the phone down to sneeze a few times, and it continued to ding throughout his fit.

Gojo:

we’ll have to go out when youre better!! next friday?? theres a new barcade i wanna try and then KARAOKE!!!!!! :DDD

Gojo:

Nanamiiiiii D: 

Gojo:

don’t leave me on read

Gojo:

bless youuuuu :3

Gojo:

no i cant hear u im just guessing

Gojo:

was i right?? o.O 

Nanami silenced his phone and went back to sleep, deciding to address the new situation, along with the strange feelings that’d started coming up, later. For now, at least he could relax. 

Nanami:

Thank you.

#snzfic #snz #sneeze kink #my writing #j/jk #cold snz #sneeze fic #snz fic

[lxmiko]

Uhm...hello!

This is my first time requesting something....sooo if u don't mind....

Can u do something where luxiem gets jealous?? if you've done this already pls ignore this >¬<

Anyways thank u and I love the way u write!💞

luxiem being jealous / protective . . .

— ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ—

hello hello !! sorry for the incredibly long wait ;; my first week of school just ended !! i’m trying to set some sort of schedule where i write a lil bit of whatever i’m doing throughout the week and then finish it up on the weekend if i don’t have any big projects due mhmhm, aka updates most likely every five to seven days (due to the fact that how much i write rn is actually a lot for me ••;;)

sorry that this kinda became more of a jealousy/protective thing ••;; wasn’t sure how to write jealousy for some of them ;;

but anyway, moving on to the brainrot >:D

characters: luxiem (separately)

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

vox akuma

vox makes it very obvious when he’s jealous, he’s a little more passive aggressive toward whatever’s making him frustrated, and pins it on you (jokingly) afterward when the problem’s gone

he takes his eyes off of you for a second and comes back to see you swarmed by a stranger, and immediately, he begins to frown, but he calms himself enough to approach you quietly. perhaps he’s misreading the situation, maybe they’re a friend of yours, a relative or someone similar (but would they make your brows furrow? make you frown as you shake your head in polite refusal? he hopes he knows you better than that)

“hey there, my love,” he murmurs as he appears out of thin air by your side, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek with his eyes locked onto your confused expression with a smile. even as you stutter out a reply, he keeps his focus on you, completely ignoring the stranger in front of the two of you

his arms stay wrapped snugly around you, his gaze sweet as can be (and he makes sure the person sees the way you return his affection when you place a hand on top of the one he has on your hip)

and god, is vox protective .///. , his attention on you isn’t just for show. his eyes quickly and subtly scan for anything that’s amiss, his arm curling a little tighter at any and every difference he catches (that stranger best hope nothing’s wrong or they’ll be six feet under before they even know it ••;;)

it’s only when they make themselves known with an irritated sigh that vox’s eyes lazily drag to them. his lips curl up at the sneer on their face as he addresses you again. “who’s this, dear?”

it takes only a few minutes for the stranger to leave, frustrated and with a scowl at vox’s blatant attitude toward them (and your inability to stop him even as when you slap him arm and tell him to be nice ;;)

don’t worry about him being a lil shit after they’re gone though!! he means no harm, it’s just that he loves when you push at his chest and look away with a pout whenever he leans toward you with that stupid grin of him, asking, “you did that on purpose, didn’t you, love?”

he pokes fun at you and pouts dramatically when you huff, accusing you of being “so mean” to him when he’s only asking a “simple question”

you can try to win, argue with him all you want, tease him back, or maybe even get so flustered that you die (;;), but all he’ll do is shoot you a cheeky smile and go “mmhm~” >:c

even though he doesn’t get jealous often (as he might try to make you think) since he feels very secure in your relationship and himself ^^, he won’t ever give up the chance to tease you, so watch out for that ;;

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

mysta rias

mysta tries really hard to not let you know when he’s jealous ;;

it’s almost like an embarrassment to him. he hates doubting and he hates feeling so insecure no matter how many times you tell him you love him, and he stumbles to come up with lies to cover up his feelings, especially if it’s over something he thinks is stupid

you asked him on a date earlier that day, and he’s currently walking toward where you wanted to meet up. his mind supplying useless anxieties as he came closer and closer. god, he hopes he looks okay, that he isn’t late even though he made sure he’d arrive a few minutes early, but above all else, his heart thrums with excitement with every step ^^

but up ahead, he sees a stranger looking at you so sweetly, your back to him, and he stutters in his step at the sight. maybe you know them, maybe he shouldn’t intrude…

his head floods with numerous thoughts, perhaps you want to talk to them more than him right now, you might’ve asked him to hang out today but maybe you had a sudden change of plans

he hates that his mind jumps to all these stupid conclusions, but he can’t help it, nor can he the resentment that bubbles at the sight of the stranger. he wants to run away, terribly so

before his thoughts overtake his mind, he catches the frown you show them, taking a step back as they take a step forward. you’re uncomfortable, he notes, and it makes him furrow his brow in confusion for a second at the revelation

while mysta’s not the most observant person, something clicks in his mind, and he just knows something’s wrong, especially with the way that stranger’s trying to place a hand on your arm with a leer as you jerk away from their grasp. it makes his blood boil.

mysta quickens his pace, yanking their hand from your wrist, his grip tightening when they immediately try to defend themselves. “don’t touch them,” his scowl grows at their insistence that they weren’t trying to do anything, and it especially gets worse when the stranger tries to ask for your opinion

they ask you to confirm that they’re just a friend, right? mysta’s just overreacting, right? but mysta knows better. he pushes the stranger away with the grasp he has on them, his voice low and mean as he speaks, “i don’t care who you are, don’t touch them or come near us ever again.”

the stranger stumbles away with a curse and disappears among the crowd, and the second they’re gone, mysta’s eyes and hands are wandering over every inch of your body, inspecting for any injuries or discomforts. “are you okay, babe? shit, i should’ve came earlier,” he scolds himself and apologizes profusely despite your adamant refusal to it being his fault

he sulks and pouts, and god, he just hopes you’re okay and that you’ll forgive him (even if he’s done nothing wrong ;;). the whole situation leaves a bad taste in his mouth, but he forgets any and all of his bitter emotions toward the stranger to focus on you (and perhaps if you give him a kiss, he’ll feel even better ^^)

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

luca kaneshiro

luca doesn’t really notice that he’s jealous, being one to confuse his feelings at times and overall having a hard time expressing himself as someone other than “the himbo who screams ‘pog >:DD!!!’”

though, it doesn’t take much to get him jealous, but most of the time, it’s not enough to make him react any different than he usually does

it’s only when someone’s bothering the two of you while you’re out on a date that jealousy burns him and anger flickers dangerously within him

he’s only gone for a moment, perhaps picking up the food and drinks you two ordered at the counter, when he comes back to you uncomfortably but politely rejecting someone’s advances ;;

a flurry of emotions and thoughts hit him all at once: anger, jealousy, annoyance, and most importantly, he has to get that person away from you

he approaches you both with a furrowed brow, asking who the person is and making sure the hand he has secured around your hip is noticeable. his presence alone is intimidating, especially with the scowl that begins to grow on his face for every second the stranger lingers, but eventually, they stumble away with a shaky gasp at luca’s glare, out of sight

he turns to you, frowning and quiet, even as you pull him to a secluded area for him to calm down, he still pouts at you ;; responding with mumbles to your questions

but then, you ask him if he’s jealous. he shrugs, thinking that if this is what he’s feeling, the slight weight on his chest that burns and makes him so upset, then he’ll admit it. “yeah, i am, what about it?”

the instant it clicks that it’s jealousy, luca scolds himself in his head. he knows you love him, and he’s confident in all that is you and him (a part of him can’t believe he doubted what the two of you are in the first place)

he flashes you a cheeky grin and showers you with love, pulling you close with arms encircling your waist, his head snuggling into the junction of your neck and shoulder and pressing sweet, little kisses to your skin .///.

it’s a twist that you could only expect luca to pull on you, giving you copious amounts of affection with a smile on his face even if he was frowning and pouting at you earlier

“i love you, honey,” he snuggles onto you as his arms wrap just a little tighter around you, “i love you, you know that?” he repeats and pulls back to admire your features for a moment before giving you a chaste kiss to the lips with a smile

luca knows you’re his and he reminds you he’s yours as well, pulling you out from the secluded area you took him to to continue your date (he makes sure it goes smoothly this time ^^)

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

ike eveland

ike likes to think he’s mature enough to not get jealous, and he defines it more as being (over)protective instead when he feels that way at times

as much as he hates confrontation, the idea of you being bothered by some stranger and being uncomfortable when he could be doing something to help you makes him act

he nearly drops the energy drinks he bought at the store the two of you are at when he hears you yelp

there’s someone who has their hand wound tightly around your wrist, tugging you closer as they whisper something about how you’re too pretty to be alone, and ike feels something burning within him, his hands trembling with anger as he approaches the two of you with fast steps

as he draws nearer, his lips part to speak, “let go of them,” his voice is clipped and borderline snappy, but he adds to the end of his demand to be polite, “please.”

the stranger questions his authority over you, as if you’re something to be owned, asking things such as who was he to say what they could do to you, you didn’t belong to him, and ike swears he’s never been so annoyed in his entire life when his hand comes between the two of you, his fingers prying off the person’s grimy grip on you, careful to not hurt you

“i suggest you leave,” he tries to hard to keep his voice even, but it’s so hard when all he can think of is how this person’s an absolute idiot, and how he’s one too for having you to wait outside when he went into the store

when the stranger gives up and walks away, ike turns back to you, his eyes filled with worry as he traces your features, his hands trembling almost undetectably

he smooths out the creases in your clothes caused by the scuffle and murmurs under his breath, whether it’s to you or himself, “it’s okay, you’re okay, everything’s fine.”

he was so scared, he realizes, of what could’ve happened if he appeared a little too late, or if the stranger had been a lot more stubborn

it worries him to no end, but he takes in a shaky breath and sighs, as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters

reassure him please ;; he needs to know that you're fine and that he did enough

no matter what you say though, he'll continue to be wary while the two of you are out, tensing when situations feel dangerous and darting his eyes around the area more often to make sure everything is fine

ike keeps his eye on you too and might worry a little too much (don’t be surprised to see him glancing to the shop’s door every time someone enters to make sure it’s no one suspicious ^^;;) but he means very well and just wants to keep you safe .///.

— *✧･ﾟ: * —

shu yamino

shu isn't one for jealousy, and he believes you’re able to take care of yourself without needing him to step in, though it doesn’t stop him for subtly looking out for you either way

he’s always assumed he was pretty dense, but he always seems to notice everything when it comes to you

like the stranger flirting with you right in front of him while the two of you are out on an errand

he’s not entirely shocked, since he usually limits pda since he feels that those things should be kept a little more private, so it’s harder to tell that you and him are dating

but this person is completely ignoring him

whether they knew you and shu were together, they focused only on you, sending flirty remarks as you smile politely, albeit uncomfortably

there’s a weird feeling building in his chest, something that makes him want to snap at the stranger to go away, but he tries to make no mind of it even if his eyes stay locked on the interaction between you and the stranger

he’s usually pretty good at staying out of things like these, knowing you can take care of it yourself, but whatever emotion he’s feelings pushes him to cough and step closer to you, hoping to get the stranger’s attention off you

when they don’t react, he clears his throat a little louder, and finally, the stranger shoots him an annoyed look, but at least he has their attention

he looks to you and leans in with a hand on your lower back to murmur, loud enough for the stranger to hear, “babe, we should keep moving. we only need to get one more thing.”

at the petname, the stranger cringes and immediately departs with a few colorful words and judging stares (something about leading them on ••;;)

you turn to him all confused, asking why he did that for, but he just shrugs and instead tugs you along to continue on with the errand

he slips his hand down to yours, keeping your fingers intertwined for the rest of the time the two of you are out :>>

you can point out that he’s being a little more affectionate than usual, at least in public, but he’ll deny any and all accusations as he subconsciously rubs his thumb back and forth on top of yours as you hold hands ^^

in the end, he’ll probably never tell you his reasoning for getting rid of the stranger, but he’ll admit to himself in the very least that while he’s not a petty person (nijitoxic, fake..), the fact that he had ruined that person’s day made him a lot happier than he should’ve been (nijitoxic, real?!)

— ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ—

update on discord server !! it’s very much slowly coming together ! i’m not entirely sure what technical things gotta be done to it just yet since it’s a pretty slow process with the only worker being just me (especially because of school ;;) but it’s coming along!! i’ll post an update soon so look out for that if you’re interested in joining ^^!!

#nijien #nijisanji #nijisanji en #luxiem #luxiem x reader #shu yamino x reader #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #mysta rias x reader #vox akuma x reader

[intrusiveinks]

I have a question. What is your MLP poly au about?

Sorry for the bad formatting I'm on phone and in a rush bc I spent all lunch writing this lmao

I also wanna start out by saying you don't have to agree with all my hcs n I don't mind other interpretations of these characters obviously, lmao

Tbh it's mainly just like random gay little hcs of mine, mainly surrounding the mane 6 being Poly, of course. I suppose it's technically one of my more fluid aus, as in not everything is honestly set in stone bc I can't decide if I want some of it to be darker or completely keep it more to Canon yet.

It's technically similar in some aspects to my Elements of Necessity Mane 6, just... a lot less horrible overall? Still not the the best ponies but also not the Worst like Necessity plans on being once I work on that again. (Especially w similarities w Twilight at least at first)

Despite shipping (almost) all of the mane 6 together (I just don't rlly see AJ n Pinkie as dating in any way, even if I don't entirely think they're actually related (I don't think they ever officially confirmed things in the show even later on so I could be wrong!)), my main fixation is on Dash x Pinkie x Shy and then also Twi x Rarity x Aj, and when talking to a friend I thought the concept of those two trios actually getting together first (and going through a semi-dramatic (kinda rivals in some cases) to friends to lovers thing and finally calming down then girls from both groups start falling for each other and it's chaos ALL OVER AGAIN!!!

Twilight is a lot more like ep 1 Twi (can u tell I loved that version of her) and she's not super social and when she is she can be rude (sometimes on purpose) and she's very work oriented and perfectionistic, even after she befriends the mane 6 in a similar way to the first ep, she doesn't do a super immediate flip and she doesn't ever entirely drop all of her more unsociable mannerisms because they are a part of her, she's not a total dick, but I like the thought that even people who don't socialize normally can be friends and have friendship!

Aj is a workaholic and kinda judgemental, especially if she doesn't really think somepony is as tough/mature/reliable as her, but she still tries to be polite because of how she was raised. A lot of those judgements normally happen when she feels like she's forced to interact with ponies who aren't relatives, (Rarity cough cough) but a lot of her judgements are because she forced herself to grow up fast and later on some of her frustrations turn out to be because she likes the others and not just bc she's annoyed.

Rarity is pretty much the same but even more slay serve dramatic queen in some aspects, she's actually pretty self conscious though, and for a while she's put herself in a creative rut because she feels ponies only want certain designs from her and she's scared to expand from that. (I wonder if 5 mares w different styles could help her out with that ;]) also kinda a workaholic.

Fluttershy is a EARTH PONY I do think unicorn Flutters is interesting but she's literally so earth pony coded idc!!! She's pretty much the same except a lot of her interactions (especially w Dash and Pinkie) are based on her admiration of them and then it becomes romantic over time. Similar with AJ and Rarity but in a kind of different way. With Twilight she actually relates to her social issues and ends up reaching out more when Twi is struggling to help her and the two of them get a bit of a bond sharing interests. Flutters also doesn't really care about getting messy and loves wilderness activities! The darkness is scary, but if she's scavenging in the day or sleeping in a tent she feels a lot safer, especially if she knows it's just some animals nearby (like a bear. And not a monster).

Pinkie is a pegasus like her Granny pie was because I said so, though she is the only one out of all her siblings to be one, (Maud, Lime, Marble, and Octavio), so she was actually raised on the ground, hence her hopping a lot of the time because it's like a middle ground for her! She's kinda mentally ill, and very ND obviously! She's been besties with Dash for AGES to the point Ponyville thinks they're gay before they even start dating (they don't say anything to be polite, Twilight is actually the one who says it out loud (she's still new) and it kicks off a "wait??? Do I like her??" For the two ponies who for the most part normally don't care about who they might like).

Dash is your local loser gamer boy but he's not only a boy she's also a girl (both states are masculine bc gender is a fuck!!!) She's still egotistical but a lot more aggressive in certain places too because of her own self consciousness issues. She's not diagnosed with ADHD but God he really needs to be! He actually deals more with storm clouds and the aftermath when it comes to weather! She's literally only been open with Pinkie about doing silly things like stimming for Ages bc she has a problem with admitting she may think she has anything. Kinda similar to how she ends up bonding w Twi over reading Daring-Do.

Idk if I've been too open about things but the base hcs for pronouns/Gender/etc for the mane 6 (at least in this au) are

Twilight - She/Her - Cis - Bisexual (She doesn't know it yet)

Rarity - She/Her, They/Them - Nonbinary (I can't decide exactly? Maybe a demigirl? Genderfluid? I'm unsure.) - Unlabeled

Apple Jack - She/Her - Cis - Sapphic (I'm not sure on anything for her yet I just know she deffo likes girls)

Fluttershy - She/Her, They/Them - Demigirl - Queer

Pinkie Pie - She/Her, They/Them, He/Him, It/Its, (Probably neos too) - Nonbinary (not really any solid gender identity but mainly goes as some form of a girl) - Pansexual

Rainbow Dash - He/Him, She/Her - Bigender (Male and Female Specifically) - She likes girls but she doesn't really care to label herself on specifics.

#mlp #my little pony #my little pony friendship is magic #mlp fim #mane 6 #poly mane 6 #mlp headcanons #twilight sparkle #rarity #apple jack #rainbow dash #pinkie pie #fluttershy

[solomons-poison]

Neighbor!Gojo and Geto hcs

A/N: I got distracted by other fics while writing this and lost steam so I’m sorry its late. I have a rough understanding of Geto as a character but didn't feel comfortable doing a solo run with him, so figured next best was using his and Gojo's dynamic together for some tasty headcanons. If anyone has other thoughts about this concept, feel free to share!

Warnings: MDNI!!, fem reader (no pronouns but reader has vagina), the boys are their own warning here honestly, poly relationship, mention of fingering and oral (f and m receiving), spitroasting, vaginal sex, degradation, pet names (babe, pretty princess). If I missed anything please ask to tag!

Neighbor!Toji hcs

Neighbor!Nanami hcs

Masterlist

Neighbors!Gojo and Geto that are up all hours of the night, keeping you up with their noise. One of them, Gojo you've learned, laughs like a hyena and has no sense of indoor voices. But when you try to politely ask them to bring down the volume, Geto only sneers at you to mind your own business. Gojo is a little friendlier but the result is the same, telling you "I'm sorry, babe, we're just having some fun. Cut us some slack this time, won't you?" with his damned attractive smirk on his face. He might promise to lower the volume, but time and time again he does the same thing, and you never fail to forgive him.

Neighbors!Gojo and Geto that are the most ridiculously gorgeous men you've ever seen, towering over you and watching with their intense eyes, and oh do they know it. They always seem joined at the hip, and you can't help but feel a little disappointed when you find out they're dating. Of course, that doesn't stop them from flirting up a storm with you, making innuendos that make your cheeks flame up, enjoying putting you on edge. And little do you know the way they talk about you behind your back, how they plan to play with you, their new favorite little toy.

Neighbors!Gojo and Geto that, as soon as you get friendly with them, come over to your apartment on the regular and walk in like they own the place. Geto intimidates you, and you're never quite sure he actually likes you or not, but Gojo acts as a buffer and something about their company is comforting, falling into a routine of movie nights and the occasional drinks. You start to learn Geto is just a tough read. While Gojo is as open with his words as he is with his actions, Geto shows his interest in the intense eye contact he makes with you, the way he listens to you in conversations and doesn’t judge you.

Neighbors!Gojo and Geto that get possessive around you, flanking you on both sides when they occasionally drag you out to the local bar for drinks instead of drinking at home. Geto puts on his classic bitch face, scaring off any person brave enough to approach you, while Gojo keeps an arm wrapped around your shoulders or your waist at all times. You know somewhere along the way, you’ve all crossed the threshold into new relationship territory and it makes your heart flutter to get so close to the boys.

Neighbors!Gojo and Geto that, as soon as they’ve got you hooked on them, decide to crank up the heat on you. They start to get a little more handsy, Gojo offering to rub your shoulders after a hard day's work and Geto keeping you literally under hand at almost all times. The more they do it, the more they let their hands wander, touching your waist, your hips, playing with your hair and fingers. Gojo coos at you in his sing-song voice with more pet names than you’re accustomed to while he does it. Geto’s fingers trail along the back of your neck and your shoulders when you cuddle, other times his hand is rubbing and squeezing your thigh. While Gojo cradles you, Geto possesses you, so that you’re never left alone or wanting.

Neighbors!Gojo and Geto that know things are moving too fast for you, how overwhelmed you are with the attention they’re giving you, but they can’t help but get drunk off of the way your body is reacting to them. You get so used to them constantly touching you in some way, you can’t help but pout when they withdraw and it drives the boys insane. It’s how they know they’ve made the perfect little plaything out of you.

Neighbors!Gojo and Geto that work you back and forth between them, building the tension higher and higher, until you feel like you're going crazy and the dam finally breaks. Geto breaks you down, calling you his filthy little slut, saying how dirty you are to let yourself be handled by two men at once, aren't you satisfied yet? Meanwhile, Gojo works you back up, cooing at you and praising you about how your body responds to him, teasing you that his pretty princess is practically dripping for them. Blush all you want, but your soaked panties speak for themselves.

Neighbors!Gojo and Geto that overwhelm your senses and take pride in that fact. While Geto is stuffing his cock into your warm mouth, Gojo is prepping your tight hole with his tongue, then finally with his long, nimble fingers before finally sheathing himself in your tight cunt. They take turns making you fall apart for them on their fingers, tongues, and cocks until you collapse from exhaustion, and they just know you’ll come running back for more in no time.

Well. It turned out both short and long at the same time and I’m not sure how. Sorry its so rough, had a hard time putting my ideas into words but I just love the idea of a poly relationship with Geto and Gojo, ESPECIALLY when they are in love with each other too.

Reblogs and comments appreciated!

Edit: I forgot to tagggg @peachsayshi @theesotericedition

#can you tell i went hog wild with this #out with love triangles and in with poly relationships thank you very much #nsft warning #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satosugu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk imagines #gojo x mc #gojo x y/n #geto x mc #geto x y/n #tarren*writes #satosugu x reader #getou x reader #gojou x reader #the minx can write ✍️ #spicy minx 🔥

[mccnstruck]

hold me like you understand

(in other words, you have a parent like mafuyu's mom )

characters: akito x gn!reader

tags: hurt/comfort, not proofread, vent post, ooc, established relationship, kissing, one curse word

a/n: hi sorry for the amount of vent posts i make, im just not living laughing loving a lot anymore so um yea sorry this is really ooc

- you let a dry laugh out at your mom's joke. you didn't quite understand it, but you think it was about grades?

- you forced the corners of your mouths to turn upwards. you mom finally stopped laughing at her joke.

- "ahh, [name] how are your studies going?"

- you fought the urge to roll your eyes. of course, the only thing you want to talk to me about is grades.

- "it's fine, mama! i have a quiz tomorrow."

- she let out a hum. "make sure you study for it. i do all the work for you just so you can peacefully study, you know?"

- you clenched your jaw. "mhm!"

- silence. you don't know if your mom felt it, but the tension in the air made you feel on edge.

- "you plan on going into the field you set your classes for, right?"

- "yea, why?"

- "nothing, nothing. i just don't want you making poor choices. i was just worried because you've been doing your little hobbies, can't have you running off to them."

- your hands started to shake and grip onto itself. why was she so.... so..

- you tested the waters of her “unconditional love”. “hypothetically, if i were.... to pursue them...?"

- a confused "huh?" came from your mom. "what do you mean?"

- "what if i wanted a different career...? what then-"

- your mother let out a scoff, procceding to laugh at you as if you said something funny. you don't think you said anything funny, so why...

- "absolutely not."

- "huh? i just said-"

- "and i'm saying no. your hobbies are just hobbies. nothing more. you will spend all your life struggling when you could just have gone the better route. i know what's best for you. you are taking this career."

- "mama, i just said it as a joke-"

- "good. it will stay as a joke."

- her words latched to your mind like pests.

- it will stay as a joke. it will stay as a joke. was your true personality a joke to her?

- were you a joke to her?

- "alright mama, i'm going to my room now."

- "alright. make sure you study on your quiz or exam. i don't want to see you doing anything else."

- you rushed up the stairs and into the bathroom closest to you. tears fell from your eyes as you tried to silence your cries.

- you were an idiot, such a dumb, hopeful, idiot. you knew. you knew your mother, of course she wouldn't ever accept that!

- you hugged yourself and sat on the cold, hard tiles. you wanted to disappear, away from everything, away from everyone....

- akito.

- akito. you whispered his name in realization. quickly pulling out your phone hidden in your pocket, you typed in akito's contact and opened his messages. you checked the time. he most likely would be leaving practice.

you:

akito

akito

akito

kito <3:

wtf u want

you:

akito code red

- there was a pause in messages, before he made up for it, spamming you relentlessly.

kito <3:

what happened?

who did this to you?

do you need me to beat up anyone?

do u need me to come over? anything i should bring?

you'll be ok, just tell me what you need right now.

you:

just need you here with me

no need to beat anyone up

if you do come over, please just try to make as little conversation with her. like, smile whatever just give her a good impression of you. she's home today

- hoping he got the hint, you washed your face, quietly walked to your room and waited paitently.

- soon enough, you heard a knock downstairs. akito's polite voice (you would usually snicker everytime he used it) chimed through the house, and your mother called you downstairs. "[name], someone's here for you!"

- you wemt downstairs to find your mother and akito, who's customer service smile turned a little softer seeing you.

"this is your boyfriend, correct?"

"...yes mama."

"it's wonderful to see you! i would've loved to chat more, but i'm quite busy nowadays. surely you must be a good choice if [name] chose you."

- "mama..."

- akito smiled. "i'm very lucky to be with [name], mrs. [last name]. now, if you'll excuse us."

- your mother chuckled. "alright, alright. make sure you study for the test. you don't want to ruin your future, do you?"

- you laughed uncomfortably at her remark. she sure knows how to rub in wounds.

- “[name], i have to head off to do some errands, so make sure everything is ok while i'm gone."

- eager to leave, you nodded in response. you finally walked akito to your room and closed the door a little. keys jingled downstairs before a door closed and the lock clicked. you finally took a chance to sigh in relief.

- he sat on the bed and observed your mannerisms, worry in his face. "what happened? was it your mom?"

- tears started flowing down your cheeks and you gripped at your hair, fingers etching itself into your skin. everything turned blurry. your throat felt like the tears were closing it up. your breath was fast, deep, desperate.

- akito abruptly stood up and gently plied your hands off your hair, gently intertwining his fingers with yours. "hey, hey. [name]."

- he guided you to both sit on your bed, as he leaned his face closer to you. his olive green eyes looked into yours, and his whisper felt soft in your eardrums.

- "[name]. breathe. in and out."

- you hiccup and your words tripped over another. "my mom.... dammit! it's always my mom! i'm always trying to please her...but...she's always sets me up to be just her little trophy kid! my whole personality is just a stupid little joke to her! it hurts...akito...it hurts so much..."

- your outburst turned into a desperate, hoarse cry of hopelessness. "this isn't even the first time, 'kito. i'm so done. i put on a happy face for everyone and always pleasing others but when i want something suddenly i'm the bad guy. is this what selfishness is...?"

- akito pulled you closer to him and tightened his arms around you, one hand on your back and one on your head. your cries were the only thing heard as akito rocked you back and forth. a repeated plea of "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry" was muffled as your head rested on the crook of akito's neck.

- "be as selfish as you want, [name]. we'll both be selfish. never apologize for being selfish with me."

- your cries slowly quieted down to hiccups, as akito let his lips linger on the top of your head. for the first time this night, you didn't feel so tense.

- "feeling better?"

- you lifted your head for a moment. "a little bit.......!!!!" you noticed your tears landed on his hoodie, and you apologized repeatedly. "oh crap, akito i'm so sorry why didn't you tell me-"

- he placed his hand on your forearm and pulled you in. his lips found their place to yours, and your eyes widened before you finally melted.

- you both slowly leaned back for air and stared into the other's eyes.

- akito took your hand and gently kissed it, leaving no part of your skin without his love.

"we'll have our own little apartment." a kiss to your index knuckle.

- "and we'll have it filled with my equipment and your supplies." a kiss to your middle knuckle.

- "and we'll have little dates in the house, where we just do our own thing, but we know the other person is there and enjoying the other's company. and i'll make sure you never feel unappreciated ever again. and if someone has a problem with that, they're gonna have to go through me first." a kiss to your ring finger. you notice how his lips lingered, almost as if he was sealing a promise.

- "could we have a dog in the apartment?"

- he glared at you and almost let your hand go in disbelief. "absolutely not."

- "whyy?"

- "do you even want me in the apartment??"

- you laughed loudly, and akito eyes softened looking at you. he was finally satisfied with your smile back on your face. but, there’s one thing he forgot.

- you pointed to your last knuckle and watched as akito’s eyes furrowed in confusion before soon realizing what you wanted. he sighed, yet his smile only grew as he kissed the last one.

- “happy?”

- “very. very happy.”

- “you know what i said is true, right? i’m not one to give empty words. you know that out of all people, ya know?”

- you eyes crinkled in genuine joy as you whisper, “i know.”

- he took your hand and stood up, urging you to as well. “well, time to study then. i know damn well i’m not gonna pass this one anyways…”

- you snicker at your lover being hopeless with studying. “you complete idiot, we had so much time to study…”

- the future was always so intimidating to you, the choices of your life so dependent on what you did today. the future where your mother’s dissapointment held. you never wanted the future to come.

- but with akito by your side, you knew at least that your future wouldn’t be so bad with him.

- bring it on, future.

reposting or plagiarizing of my works is not allowed under any circumstances.

#akito x gn reader #akito x reader #shinonome akito x reader #akito shinonome x reader #akito shinonome #project sekai x reader #pjsekai x reader #[ the lost library ]

[p0rkguts]

you got any ocs u wanna ramble abt pork? (trying to politely ask everything ever forever)

CATEGORY 7 BLORBO HEART ATTACK

Why yeas.... Yes I do :]

Okay so so so so my main story my favorite story my baby my child my magnum opus my pride and joy my best creation. Most developed story I've ever had. working title is Metamerist. I love it I love them u don't understand u don;t undersTAND

It's about a little amnesiac girl thing trying to recover their memories and find their identity in a world that is against them in every way possible. It's about two problematic lesbians with a messy ass past trying to get over their own emotional constipation and toxic codependency to raise children and save the world. It's about a Totalitarian government bent on completely dominating the globe until it's all under their control. It's about SHAPESHIFTERS. IT'S ABOUT QUEERS. IT'S ABOUT WHAT CAN'T BE TAKEN BACK. IT'S ABOUT BEING MADE ANEW. IT'S ABOUT FEELINGS❕❕❕❕❕

Oh my god jeez fuck how am I even meant to explain all this lore to you rn.... Okay I I. I'm working on this big PowerPoint Google slide presentation that explains the WHOLE story but it's not done yet. And it's like sooo impossible (for me) to abridge. So I'm just gonna tell u about ONE Metamerist character for now and their lore

Readmore bc this got long

This is The Doctor (it/its). It doesn't have a name it just calls itself The Doctor. It's a shapeshifter that can take on different animal traits— specifically from certain bugs and bats. It grew up in a shapeshifter colony in the distant mountains until they were all either kidnapped or killed by the government for their shapeshifter related experiments when The Doctor was like. A shapeshifter tween. The Doctor managed to hide in a little crevice crawl space thing until they left but it was the only survivor.

After days of just waiting thinking they'd be right outside to attack, it left its hiding place and the mountain and camped out at the foot of the mountain for a bit. Eventually Nivera finds it and she wants to be friends and The Doctor doesn't really wanna be friends bc it thinks Nivera is a human girl from the nearby village and it hates humans now but it doesn't wanna appear suspicious so it tries to be all friendly because well. People are supposed to be nice to other people?? Probably

Nivera keeps visiting The Doctor and they slowly become actual friends. Not like it'd admit that tho. But eventually the truth comes out and they both realize they're both shapeshifters who thought the other was human and we're trying to pass as humans because of that. It's silly they're both stupid. After that they get a lot closer

Every time Nivera would leave The Doctor at the end of the day after visiting and she claimed to "go home to her family" to sell her human alibi and everything she was just going to some abandoned cottage she found. After they figure each other out they start living there together

While this was going on, The Doctor started sneaking into the nearby village and stealing things like food and books and clothes and stuff. When Nivera becomes friends with It she asks to join in on the little thieving escapades and The Doctor begrudgingly agrees. They then become wanted criminals there but they never get caught because they've got The Doctor's shape shifting abilities on their side

One day when The Doctor and Nivera were out exploring the woods, they found a tunnel that led into a secret underground compound and saw some humans bringing stuff into it in boxes. They hid while they watched them transport all the materials and it was all very suspicious. After they snuck away, Nivera wanted to leave the place alone but The Doctor wanted to go back and investigate further. Nivera was against it so The Doctor started visiting the place in secret and lying to Nivera about it saying they were going hunting instead.

The Doctor just watched them transport their mystery goods for a few days until one day they saw them carrying in a shackled shapeshifter. This set off major alarms in its head. The next time they visited the tunnel they snuck in and saw the humans were experimenting on shapeshifters in there. It snapped and killed all the workers there (like 20-30 people)

The Doctor is scarred in 7 new ways bc of it all but just cleans up as much of the carnage it can and returns to Nivera. For a few days It avoids the place and doesn't say anything to her but eventually it goes back to see what became of the place and Nivera follows it because she was getting really suspicious. The place is still empty and untouched and The Doctor tells Nivera they all just left. At some point Nivera sees faint remnants of blood there, and pieces together that there was more to it than that, but she tells herself that whatever it did must've been absolutely necessary and her bff would never do wrong.

The Doctor had wanted to get back at humans somehow ever since their family was taken from it and it saw the now empty compound as the perfect starting point to learn about their plans. Nivera isn't a fan but acquiesces to The Doctor's desire to start spending time there. It figures out how to operate their computers soon enough and figures out the vast extent of their work.

Okay so by this point years have passed amidst all this and they're both shifter young adults now. The Doctor spends a bunch of time at the compound trying to come up with plans to stop all the government mandated shapeshifter murder. It eventually figures out the lab equipment and after studying some of the things they did there, it figured out how to make its own concoctions it saw as useful.

The compound is attached to now abandoned tunnels that lead to a more urban part of the land and The Doctor started using them as a way to sneak in to essentially scavenge for more materials for their projects. Nivera begged to come along one time bc she likes to be included and when they got there they ended up almost getting caught, but The Doctor used its shifting powers to get them to safety and Nivera was like "😳 woaw..." Bc she's monster fucker trash (affectionate)

After they got home safely Nivera was like "man with I could do all that cool stuff teehee ☺️" and The Doctor's like "...You can't?" And Nivera's like "no my shapeshifter powers have always been super weak lol I'm not strong like you 🥰" and The Doctor's like "hmmm. I wonder if a serum could fix that."

Nivera essentially has a shifter disability that makes her shifting abilities abnormally weak and The Doctor offers to make some concoction that could possibly fix it. Nivera doesn't really mind her disability at all and lives just fine with minimal powers but agrees because The Doctor seems really excited about the possibility of the experiment being successful so anything for her pookie 🥰

The Doctor makes a few versions of the concoction but they keep not doing anything and Nivera assured it that it's fine but The Doctor won't back down and gets obsessed with making it work. Eventually, one night when they're testing another version in The Doctor's lab, it does work, but it works too well and Nivera loses control of her shape shifting abilities, shifting uncontrollably into a warped pained form

Uhhhhh something something. Kinda like this

(this is maybe 2 years old and all just vague concepts but I never drew her fucked up form ever again so this all I got)

Also Nivera can take on traits from spiders, deer, and plants

Nivera ran out into the woods like a frightened rampaging animal and The Doctor chased after them. Once it had Nivera cornered, it sedated her and had to drag her back to the lab. After making sure she was okay, The Doctor took Nivera to her cottage with some supplies and nursed Nivera back to health for the following few days while Nivera was in and out of consciousness. Once she was fully lucid, The Doctor gave her a rundown of what happened, told her to get some rest, and left. And they didn't see each other again for YEARS! Bc they were both pretty much of the belief that them being together would only hurt the both of them. The Doctor fell deep into depression and Nivera did too but she was just a little better at deluding herself

The Doctor really let itself go and spiralled completely. Its hair used to be all black and wavy but after the divorce arc it's got tons of white bits and it's all flat and matted and dirty. And it smells

Then like. decades later. which affects them slower bc shifters they'll live like 3x as long as humans. They're kinda forced back into each other's lives to take care of these two shapeshifter kids Echo and Tealin. it's a whole thing.

OKAY UUUHM. i think I've rambled enough. I get very shy about sharing ocs. BUT FEEL FREE TO ASK ME TO CLARIFY ANYTHING.... THIS IS VERY SIMPLIFIED.......... teehee ok bye

#THANK YOU SOOOO SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK ILY XOXO #sorry it took so long to respond i kept remaking it because it felt too long #but eventually i just said fuck it bc you NEED THE FULL STORY #well. this is still technically abridged #BUT YEAH UHM . YEA #my art #oc art #Metamerist #Nivera #The Doctor #long post #my ocs