#time to clear out my inbox :D

[butterfilledpockets]

we got the full set!!!

notice how none of these look remotely the same

#bad end ninja turtles #B.E.N.T #cannot be bothered to add the other tags holy fuck #time to clear out my inbox :D

[dixons-sunshine]

Soooo I just read your Shopping Spree fic with young Daryl- and ohmygosh it is one of the BEST fics about young Daryl I've read!!

Your writing is absolutely incredible!!

I'm not sure how busy you are, and don't feel forced to do this pls I really just got on here to thank you, but perhaps a part 2?

Seriously, thank you for the amazing writing :D

Make sure you drink water- and don't skip sleeping for writing!!

Dyeing For The Haircut | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Part two to Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams, but can be read as a standalone.

Summary: After months of watching you practice haircutting- and hair dyeing techniques on multiple people around the trailer park, Daryl's curiosity lead him to ask you for one of your "magical" hair transformations—hair dye and everything. His request turned out to be one of the best decisions ever when you gave him the best, most loving hairstyling experience of his life, as well as some kisses inbetween.

Genre: Fluff, some angst if you squint (mentions of Daryl's dad.)

Era: Pre outbreak

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to money problems, sexual content but nothing major, Daryl is low-key a thigh guy in this, reader's mom is implied to be a single parent.

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request lovely. And thank you so much for your kind words! When I saw your ask in my inbox, I legitimately teared up at the compliments you gave me about my writing. Writing is something that I do to pass the time and I never thought that people would actually like it, so reading that really made me feel like I was on cloud nine. And that you think that my little story about young!Daryl was one of the best you've read? I can't even begin to explain how honoured that makes me feel 😭. I've read a few young!Daryl fics worthy of being actual novels, so that is the best compliment I've ever gotten in my life. I hope that this is an okay attempt at a part two. It's kinda random but since there weren't any specific requirements I had to meet, I went with my gut. I hope you like it! If you specifically wanted a part two with the reader's mom confronting her and Daryl after catching them making out, let me know! (btw, the same goes for you. Stay hydrated and rested, lovely ❤️)

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests.

—

“Are you sure? I might make a mistake, you know.”

“I know, but I gotta know wha' everyone's ravin' 'bout. Besides, my hair's gettin' too long fer my old man's standards. I'm one growin' hair strand away from bein' told my hair is too long to be considered manly.”

You shook your head at your boyfriend with a small laugh and motioned for him to follow you into your trailer. Once inside, you headed into the bathroom to retrieve the pair of scissors you've used for cutting hair multiple times over the past few months, as well as a towel, a comb and a hand mirror. Satisfied with the items in your possession, you walked back into the living room and saw Daryl seated on a wooden chair, his legs crossed as he read the back of a box of hair dye he bought earlier that day, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips.

At the sound of your approaching footsteps, Daryl lifted his gaze from the box to you, a boyish smile gracing his face as his eyes followed your movements. You placed the items in your hands down on the ground next to him and motioned for him to give you the hair dye, to which he complied.

“Are you sure you wanna dye your hair? Once I do it, there's no turning back,” you asked for the hundredth time since your boyfriend had asked you to do his hair, uncertainty clear in your voice.

Sensing your hesitance, Daryl gently grabbed your hips and tugged you over to him, bringing you to sit in his lap. You straddled him and wrapped your hands around his neck, watching him take the final drag from his cigarette and turn his head to blow the smoke away from you. He leaned down to put it out in the ashtray on the ground and then turned his attention back to you, bringing his hand back to rest on your hip.

“'M sure,” he finally responded, running his hands down your body to rest on your things. “I've been wantin' to go brunette fer a while now. Jus' never had the money to go to a salon and I dun' have the balls to try and dye it myself. I trust ya. Yer gonna be fine. 'S jus' me.”

You nodded and gave him a smile. You leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips before withdrawing. “You're amazing, you know that?”

Daryl scoffed and ducked his head, the tips of his ears reddening, a telltale sign that he was blushing. “Nah,” he denied, shaking his head. “'M not. Yer the amazin' one. Ya make me want to be a better person.”

“Aww,” you gushed, using one of your hands to gently cup his cheek, Daryl subconsciously leaning into your touch. “Careful, Dar, or I might start to believe that you actually care about me.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “Nah, I actually despise ya. I jus' keep ya 'round 'cause ya kiss real damn good,” he joked, a teasing smirk on his face.

You let out a mock offended gasp and playfully shoved his chest, making Daryl laugh fully, a rare sound that you cherished whenever you heard it. You laughed with him and leaned forward to lay your head on his shoulder, your body wracking with laughter. You could feel Daryl's arms move from your thighs to wrap around you, bringing you into a loving hug.

“'M jus' jokin'. I do care 'bout ya,” Daryl whispered into your hair, his chin resting on top of your head.

“I know. And I lo- care about you, too,” you replied, pressing a feathery light kiss to the exposed skin on his shoulder, eliciting a small hum of satisfaction from him.

The clearing of someone's throat caught your attention, and you hastily got off of your boyfriend's lap, turning to face your mom, who looked at you with a small smirk on her face.

“I'm leaving for work,” she started, her eyes trailing between you and Daryl. “I'll be back around midnight. Just thought I'd say goodbye to my daughter before I left.”

You could feel heat flushing on your face. You hastily nodded at your mom. “Okay, bye Mom. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she responded, before turning her attention to Daryl. “Bye, Daryl.”

“Bye, ma'am,” Daryl bid quietly, refusing to meet your mother's intense gaze.

“By the way,” your mother started, grabbing her jacket that was draped over the couch. “This isn't a Mary and Joseph situation. I'm not gonna believe that my daughter magically got knocked up. Anything happens, use protection. There should be a box of condoms in the bathroom.”

“Goodbye, Mom!” you exclaimed in embarrassment, hurriedly pushing your laughing mother out the door and shutting it. You turned to Daryl and saw his bright red face, his eyes shut in embarrassment.

“Sorry about her,” you apologized, moving over to grab the scissors and towel. “She has no filter when it comes to embarrassing her daughter, apparently.”

“S'fine,” he said, straightening his back. “Compared to wha' she told us the first time she walked in on us all those months ago, I'd say this was alrigh'. It was pretty tame.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, recalling the embarrassing memory from the first time you and Daryl kissed and confessed your feelings. “After you went home the next day, she gave me so much shit and so much unneeded advice on safe sex and all that lovely stuff.”

“Sorry I got ya into trouble.”

“It's fine. My mom walking in that day was awkward as fuck, but I wouldn't change anything. Things changed for the better that day,” you replied, shaking the towel out.

“Damn straight,” he agreed, eyeing your movements. “Ya gonna cut my hair now?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, draping the towel across his shoulders.

“Wha's the towel fer?” he questioned, accepting the handheld mirror you offered him.

“To try to prevent any hair from falling on your clothes. Hairstylists use these cape things, but the towel will have to do for now,” you explained, using a hair clip to clip the towel together, keeping it in place around his shoulders, before moving to get the hair dye ready for use when you needed it.

“Ya do the same thing with the others?” he asked, watching as you finished mixing the contents of the hair dye together in a disposable container before grabbing the comb and scissors, moving to stand behind him.

“Yeah. Basically everything I do right now while cutting and dyeing your hair, I do with everyone. Except, of course, for charging you. The others have to pay me.”

“How much do ya charge 'em?”

“Depends on what I have to do,” you started, softly combing his hair, smiling at the small shiver you felt go up his back at your gentle movements. “And it also depends on how well-off they are. For instance, I wouldn't charge Mrs Hathaway as much as I charge Mr Langdon.”

“'Course not,” Daryl agreed. “Mrs Hathaway is a pensioner. She dun' make nearly as much as Langdon does. Guy's an accountant. Only reason he even lives in this shitty trailer park is 'cause he's a fuckin' cheapskate and dun' wanna give his girl a better life.”

You smiled at your boyfriend. “Yeah, Mr Langdon is a dick. But he pays okay, though. Even tips me from time to time.”

“Ya do know tha' the only reason he pays you tha' good is 'cause—”

“He has a thing for me,” you cut him off, bringing the scissors up to his hair to start cutting it. “Yeah, I know. That's why I bring pepper spray with me whenever I go over to his trailer. If he tries something, his eyes are gonna burn like five hells.”

Daryl chuckled. “Smart girl,” he complimented you, earning a small giggle from you in return.

“Thanks,” you thanked him bashfully, continuing to snip at his hair with the scissors.

After a few more minutes of cutting and measuring to ensure that his hair was at an even length, you softly tapped his shoulder to signify that you were done. He held the mirror up to his face and examined his new haircut, humming in approval.

“Good job,” he complimented, lowering the mirror before turning his head to look at you. “My hair's still longer than my usual cut, though.”

“I know,” you acknowledged, nodding your head. “I know we have to keep your hair on the short side so that your father doesn't get mad, but I like your longer hair. It compliments your features more. Besides, I remembered you mentioning that you've been wanting to grow your hair out but he won't let you, so I only trimmed it to the point where your father won't get pissed over how long it is.”

Daryl looked at you, awestruck. “Thanks. It looks good.”

He vaguely remembered mentioning that he wanted longer hair, but it was a small thing that he didn't think you'd remember. So hearing you say that made him adore you even more, made him fall in love with you even more. Those three important words—I love you—almost fell from his lips at that moment, but he quickly caught himself. He was scared to admit that he loved you out loud, scared that if he did, the universe would somehow take you away from him. No, he couldn't let that happen.

You locked eyes with him for a moment before setting the scissors aside, moving to grab a pair of disposable plastic gloves and the container holding the hair dye. With the container in hand, you turned to Daryl and adjusted his head so that he was looking forward again, before going to work on dyeing his hair.

The entire process of applying the colour changing paste was spent in silence. You were silent because you were focused on the task at hand, and Daryl was silent because he was focused on the bliss your hands in his hair was giving him. His eyes were shut as your hands moved through his hair in gentle movements, all of his racing thoughts fading away.

Once the task was complete, you put the container aside and moved to the garbage can, throwing the gloves away. You turned to Daryl and saw him watching you, and you gave him a small smile that he easily returned.

“Now wha'?” he asked, standing up and stretching, his back cracking after sitting for so long.

“Now we wait for half an hour before we wash your hair and apply the conditioner to keep the colour in your hair.”

“So we got half an hour fer some fun?” Daryl asked suggestively, a small smirk on his face. He walked over to you and brought you into his arms, his hands going to rest on your hips.

You giggled and took his hands from your hips, entwining your fingers. “Slow down, Romeo. We're not doing anything until that dye is washed off. I don't want to stain everything.”

“Worth a shot,” Daryl replied playfully, earning a small, playful shove in return.

He laughed before pulling you back into him, leaning down to give you a slow, hungry kiss. You wrapped your arms around his midsection and returned the kiss, kissing him back deeply. After what felt like an eternity and only a few seconds at the same time, you pulled back with a breathless giggle.

“You wanna watch a movie while we wait to wash your hair?”

“Sure,” Daryl agreed, untangling himself from you and allowing himself to be pulled over to the couch. He sat down and watched you grab a random movie from the limited supply before doing the small task of getting it into the player and pressing play.

After the opening credits successfully started playing on your crappy television, you moved over to the couch and sat down next to Daryl. Instead of resting your head on his shoulder like you normally would due to the dye in his hair, you rested your head against the back of the couch. Daryl moved one of his hands to lightly grip your thigh, keeping it their for the remaining 25 minutes.

After the time passed, you paused the movie and got up, extending a hand to Daryl. He took it and followed you into the small bathroom, following your instructions and sank to his knees, leaning his head over the tub. You then gently started washing the dye off his hair, making sure to be careful and not get any water in his eyes.

In no time at all, you were done. Daryl was towel drying his hair, looking into the mirror in the bathroom with an impressed look on his face.

“I'll be damned,” he hummed in approval, looking at you in adoration. “It looks good. Ya should consider openin' yer own salon or somethin'.”

You smiled shyly. “I'm glad you like it.”

“Everyone was speakin' the truth. Ya truly are a magician when it comes to hair. I dun' think my hair's ever been cut this good, and the dye job looks like it was done by a professional. Ya really did good.”

“You don't regret dyeing your hair?” you asked curiously, moving to embrace him from behind as he continued drying his hair.

“I wasn't sure if it was a good idea at first, but I like the way it looks. I dun' know if dyein' my hair will be a regular thing, but I dun' regret dyein' it now,” he admitted, casting the towel aside and turning around. He moved his arms around you and brought you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head.

“You look good. I might have to start fighting off the ladies soon. Everyone's gonna want a piece of you now,” you said playfully.

“Nah,” Daryl chuckled. “I doubt tha', but if they do, I'll be tellin' them all about my beautiful girl.”

You smiled and withdrew from his hold. You looked at the small window and saw the sun setting, a few stars already appearing in the sky. “Do you wanna stay over?”

Daryl hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Ya sure? I can go home if ya want.”

You laughed lightly, a sense of deja vu flooding you. That was the same response he gave you all those months ago. “No, I want you to stay over. It's been a while since you've stayed over, anyways.”

“Alrigh', if yer sure,” he relented.

“Come on, we've got a movie to finish.”

Together, the two of you walked back to the living room. You sat down on the couch and pressed play on the movie you were watching, the sound flooding the trailer. Daryl sat down next to you, but instead of focusing on the movie, his eyes remained fixated on you.

Feeling his gaze on you, you turned to him. “Is something wrong?”

“Nah, 'm jus' wonderin' how I got so lucky with someone as amazin' as ya,” he confessed.

You smiled lovingly at him. “By being amazing yourself.”

You moved your hand up to his face and cupped his cheek. Daryl turned his head and kissed your palm, before moving his feathery light kisses to your wrist. After placing one final kiss on your wrist, he pulled you into his arms and cuddled up to you. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. You focused back on the movie, but your attention shifted back to him when he muttered three words into your hair.

“I love ya.”

You smiled up at him, your heart beating faster at his confession. You placed a tender, loving kiss on his lips before resting your head back on his chest.

“I love you, too.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

[alicerosejensen]

What about uhh Leon with a playful gf? Like in a childish endearing way. A child at heart and likes adventure :D

So, I’m slowly clearing out my inbox and answering old requests. In this case, I decided to make headcanons (I have writer's block).

There are no special warnings. Any version of Leon you want (for me it’s most likely Leon!Re4).

💙 Perhaps sometimes he will be annoyed by your behavior but rarely. His negative attitude will only manifest itself in moments when he is emotionally vulnerable (especially after a mission).

💙 Loves to fall asleep with you under these plush bedspreads but in a dream, he will involuntarily pull it over himself.

💙However, you will not stay without warmth. Leon loves hugging you very much, although you can already sleep, sleep won't come to Leon for a long time, so he will just hug you and look at all these plush toys and various little things that he gave you or that you bought yourself.

💙 I don't think Leon will fall in love with someone who behaves just like a child, but some mischief would give him hope that in this world he has something worth fighting for.

💙 He will buy all these cute stockings to please you.

💙 Leon doesn't really like different adventures because of his job, but if it's something harmless, then no problem. Sometimes he also wants to make a joke and cheer himself up by remembering that he is still a man and not just a slave to the government.

💙 He may sometimes feel uncomfortable in your apartment because of the abundance of toys, but again this is a temporary phenomenon. I'm more than sure that later he will buy you these giant stuffed animals himself.

💙 Leon will always be ready to go to fairs and various festivals with you (provided that he does not eliminate another threat in the form of bioweapons).

💙 If you have a little dog, Leon will even try to get along with him. Maybe he doesn't really like dogs, but from this little miracle he will also be touched and ask you to take him for a romantic walk together.

💙 Without any problems, he will allow you to make all these masks, scrubs, peels on it as a joke and even make some funny photos with you, but on condition that they are stored in personal archives.

💙 Leon will even help you realize your childhood dreams that you did not have time to realize at that time. It may be a small thing in the form of some kind of trip to a place that you have always dreamed of, or a thing that may no longer have any value and usefulness, but you still want to get it since you did not have it in childhood.

💙 He wouldn't have a problem shooting for you in a regular air rifle range, but if you really want to win on your own, then go ahead, baby. At least if you screw up completely, then Leon can save the day.

💙 You may even ask him to let you shoot with his gun (under his supervision, of course)

💙 He doesn't mind when you throw an arm or leg over him in a dream. Over time, Leon will get used to it so much that he will feel uncomfortable sleeping without your body parts on him.

💙 Leon S Kennedy are constantly teasing. This will often lead to him being hit on the head with a pillow, which can eventually turn into a soft battle.

💙 He likes quiet or slightly noisy evenings with you. He likes these old movies with delicious food or some sweets while the movie is on and you're sitting or lying next to him and gently fingering strands of his hair laughing or at least smiling at his ridiculous comments or jokes.

💙However, sometimes while watching, you can seriously start a dispute with him on any topic and take offense at not agreeing with him in opinions.

💙 Although these quarrels never last long.

💙 In any case, he loves you anyway and will most likely be the first to reconcile. Even if you act like a real kid sometimes.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy resident evil #leon resident evil #resident evil leon #resident evil #leon kennedy headcanons #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil 4 #resident evil headcanons #reader

[catscidr]

I think we have all seen the "Argenti thinks the Reader is Idrila" stuff on here. But what if the reader actually is Idrila? So I wanted to request Argenti/Idrila!Reader (gn or afab reader) headcanons or a oneshot where Idrila, who has taken on a mortal identity after [Insert tragic event here], and meets Argenti. They develop feelings for each other, Argenti finds out she is Idrila, they end up dating. (Maybe or maybe not in that specific order) I thought maybe after protecting her followers from Nanook she disappeared to ensure Nanook doesn't target them anymore? That part isn't as important so feel free to add whatever backstory you think fits^^ Thank you in advance, I really like your writing!

NONNIE omg im booting up star rail rn to stare at him lovingly. also i changed the scenario a smidge so reader is her own person while also being idrila? if that makes sense......?? yeah. also bc otherwise id be writing ten thousand words n i didnt want ur ask to grow dusty in my inbox d(;∀;d) but tysm for the prompt i couldn’t stop thinking about it ueue. also hey gang peep me trying to make my blog look more coherent n nicer looking. am i doin it ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: a smidge of amnesia and soulmate trope (it’s not that bad, trust), fluff, love at first sight (does that even count in this scenario....), argenti and reader are dancing around the topic a lot bc argenti is a gentleman and doesn’t want to pressure her to talk. blurbs to set up the plot + a fic after them hehe. not proofread, writer’s block is killing me  includes: fem reader (he refers to reader as "my lady"), argenti, natasha, luocha is kinda there wc: 2,3k

-ˋˏ You’d go to Natasha’s clinic at least once every other day because you always had the worst migraines. To the point where you almost got beat up by a Flamespawn one time when you were clearing out calyxes (thankfully there was a Silvermane guard patrolling the area, otherwise you would’ve been charred). The doctor always says the same thing; “Stop looking for fights so often”, “Let your body rest”, “I can’t prescribe you antibiotics”, and your favorite, “Stop slamming my door open I can’t do anything about your headaches”. She was a good friend, but whenever she repeated how she couldn’t be of any help to your predicament, you’d wish you could just take that glass vial hanging from her outfit and chuck it far, far away out of spite. 

-ˋˏ Obviously it wasn’t her fault- she'd done everything she could. Natasha even had you undergo the Underworld’s equivalent of an MRI scan because of how frequently you would visit her, insisting that something was wrong. The symptoms consisted of forgetting important things too often, feeling a foreign buzz in your limbs and brain, having a sudden burst of elemental energy come out of your attacks and a myriad of benign but annoying, irritating signs that something was up with you. 

-ˋˏ It became more of a chore than anything to leave your room. Some days you felt fine, but then when you’d go out again and beat up wave after wave of enemies in Caverns of Corrosion you would keel over, clutching your head while vague images of what could only be described as a fever dream ran through your mind. 

-ˋˏ You decided to leave the Underworld for some time- considering your absence like some sort of “vacation”. You heard of a wandering doctor (and merchant, apparently) by the name of Luocha and, from the people that crossed paths with him, it seemed like he was extraordinary at his job. A trek to the Xianzhou Luofu would be a long one, but after weighing your options you thought you’d give it a try (it was worth it if it meant you’d stop waking up at ungodly hours, holding your head in your hands while hoping, praying that the pain stops.) 

-ˋˏ You (somehow) made your way to the Xianzhou Luofu from Jarilo-VI. As competent as you were however, being stranded on a foreign planet with no map nor local to guide you was... a challenge. In retrospect, maybe you should’ve gotten in contact with that Luocha doctor and had him come to Belobog instead of you going to him since, well, he was a traveling merchant. Going from planet to planet is what he does (you assume). 

✧✧✧ 

If you had read up more on general information about the Luofu you would have been aware of how many enemies were roaming around the docking area. But you didn’t. So, unbeknownst to you, a rogue mara-struck soldier was on your tail, trying to sneak up to you to snag the goods you hid in your bag (which were basically just different types of painkillers and sustenance that bodes well on an upset stomach. He doesn’t know that though.) 

Your head was throbbing; ever since you set foot on the planet, your physical health had slowly dropped down to levels you wouldn’t be enduring if it wasn’t for the promise of a competent doctor once you get to the main city. Painkillers weren’t working, your feet hurt and to make matters worse, you felt the familiar lack of something in your head. It was so bad to the point where you had to have a tangible mark somewhere to remind you that you did, in fact, just take something for your headache and if you took two more painkillers, your body wouldn’t agree with your decision. It was a struggle even remembering what you did five minutes ago, no way were you going to be in top shape, beating up every enemy crossing your way. 

Clouds began covering the bright sun, casting shadows over the desolate, geometric area. You huff, irritated that, from the looks of it, you won’t be able to find a cozy place to set up camp. Though sleeping on a ground made of primarily iron and steel was considerably less nerve-wracking than sleeping on the mushy, cold, dirty ground of Jarilo-VI. So, with a pout aimed at no one in particular, you find some place that you deemed decent enough to set your humble tent. It wasn’t often that adventurers slept outside of safe zones, however with your condition you couldn’t afford to miss out on some rest and possibly get even more lost than you already are. 

You set your heavy backpack down, rolling your shoulders to soothe the ache in your muscles from carrying something so bulky. As you ruffle through your belongings, you open a bottled soda and take a swift gulp, sighing contentedly at the pleasant taste on your tongue. Now that you were sat and could rest your bones (until you started setting up your tent, at least), your ears were able to pick up on some not-so-distant footsteps. 

There’s no time for you to react; the mara-struck soldier that had been following you lunges at you, aiming for your bag. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to yell, but before any sound can leave your mouth, a long, red and gold spear pierces the ground between you and the rabid man, making you yelp in surprise. You scurry as far back as you can in your current state; however, the soldier doesn’t have time to take advantage of your weakened stature. The owner of the spear lodges himself before your shaking figure and the mara-struck, yanking his spear out of the ground with impressive elegance, and summons an array of thorny vines to catch your assailant. 

It takes little to no effort for the seasoned fighter to take down the mara-struck as he swings his weapon, swiftly knocking the blunt end on the soldier’s plexus, knocking the wind out of him. A strangled scream leaves his throat as he scampers away, leaving your belongings safe with you and the strange red-haired man. He lowers his spear, careful to keep the sharp edge far from you, and turns around to face you properly. His brows raise a smidge for a split second before he composes himself and bows before you, the action short and curt.  

“It would have been a shame to lose a beauty such as yourself,” he says smoothly, straightening his back to look down at you with a warm smile. He stretches his hand out, a polite offer to help you stand up, as he continues speaking. “My name is Argenti, I belong to the Knights of Beauty. What might you be doing so far away from civilization, dear...?” he trails off, waiting for you to introduce yourself. 

You were in a state of shock, your mind still processing what had happened in such a short amount of time, that you failed to notice the lack of pain at the back of your head. As you meekly tell him your name, you hold onto his hand to help yourself up- as soon as his armored glove comes in contact with your hand something flashes in your mind; too quick to allow you to think about it too much, or to recognize what you saw for a millisecond. 

“So far away from civilization... do you know how to get to the city?” you ask as you feel a glimmer of hope spark in you. His words were refreshing, probably the best thing someone has ever said to you in the past month. He nods, reaching into his pocket to fish out a blue handkerchief embroidered with a delicate gold trim. Argenti hands it over to you and you gratefully take it, blotting the sweat and... dust off of your face. 

“I have made my way around the Luofu for long enough to show someone the way,” he says kindly. “Besides, even if I didn’t, I would still offer to accompany you through your trek. It is my duty as a Knight of Beauty, for I must uphold chivalry and distinguished manners, in the name of the Goddess guiding me.” His words resonate within you, making you beam, nodding in understanding. 

Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the knight. As you hand his handkerchief back, he smiles at you and gestures to your bag. “What brings you so far from your homeworld, my lady?” Argenti asks gently, though a glimmer of doubt swirls in his sparkling, verdant eyes. The question makes you pause, a memory flashing in your mind too suddenly for you to know what it meant. Although, from what you could tell, you knew you could trust him with what troubled you somehow. 

“Ah, it’s a long story,” you start sheepishly, “I’ve been having these incredibly painful migraines recently. And sometimes I feel like my memory is fading too quickly for what would be considered normal,” you say, trailing off slightly at the end. “I’m looking for a healer, a doctor by the name of Luocha...?” 

Somehow, the doctor was currently the least of your worries. You’d never felt so refreshed before, at least not that you could remember; simply being in Argenti’s presence seemed to be enough to make your aches disappear like a starskiff smoothly gliding through a cloudless sky. 

“I’ve seen the man only a handful of times,” Argenti mutters aloud, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I can do my best to guide you to him, but if I may... you don’t seem to be injured?” the knight says, his voice trailing off into a questioning tone despite the observation. You shake your head, wondering how you should explain your predicament to the man. 

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” you say again, shrugging sheepishly. You wondered if you should even go into the nitty gritty- he could always just be making small talk to help you get comfortable or something. Sensing your unease, he changes the spotlight to him instead. 

“There’s no need to delve into details if you wish to keep them secret,” he says with a kind smile, bending down to take ahold of your hand- gently pressing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. Red flushes your ears immediately, words caught in your throat at the sight of his hair cascading over his shoulders, a beautiful contrast from the gold and silver armor glittering in what was left of the sunlight. 

“As for myself, like I mentioned earlier, I am a Knight of Beauty. I’m on a quest to find my dear Goddess Idrila once more, for I need to pay my respects to them after they saved me from a particularly grim fate.” His words echoed in your mind, your brows knitting together as you felt what could only be described as a cold bucket of water being dunked on your head. “I-Idrila?” you parrot, your voice coming out as a choked noise. Argenti perks up, the hand that had been softly holding onto yours now holding it with a firmer grip, his other hand joining it. 

“Yes, Idrila. Have you ever heard of them? Or...” he trails off, looking deep into your eyes expectantly, almost as if he knew something you didn’t. His eyes seemed to suck you in, bringing a comfortable wave of warmth over you, making you yearn for something. 

“I...” you begin, your gaze falling down to look at your feet. As you thought long and hard about what you wanted to say, what you tried to remember, you slowly look over to his spear, lying flat on the ground- long forgotten since the fight earlier. As if a lightbulb went off above your head, you perk up just as he did, and look at him, beaming. The words were caught in your throat; there was so much you wanted to say, to declare, to do in this moment of clarity, but with how fast your mind was running to catch you up on the current events of your life it was a struggle. 

“Argenti,” you murmur, the name rolling off your tongue smoothly, as you realized seeing the traveling merchant was no longer required. Though the road might have been arduous, and you may have almost lost your mind in the process, being with Argenti suddenly made everything make sense. That’s why your migraines mysteriously disappeared as soon as you were in the knight’s presence, that’s why you had gaps in your memory, that’s why you were freakishly powerful... at convenient times.  

Everything clicked into place. 

The both of you share a pregnant pause, eyes locked together as the world seemed to come to a stop around you. If it were possible, you’re sure there would be delicate, silky rose petals floating around your figures, suspended in the air. You glance down at his lips, and for the first time, make a decision with a clear head. 

His lips felt smooth against yours, the faint taste of vanilla mixed with roses transferring to your own lips. The kiss almost felt like it could be the result of a symbiotic relationship; now that you had Argenti, or at least had him by your side once again, you didn’t think you’d be able to continue on without him. 

#i may or may not have butchered the ending bc i DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THEM /SOBS #i did my best #୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #argenti x reader #argenti x fem reader #argenti x you #argenti x y/n

[chvoswxtch]

baking with matty & frankie

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle

summary: your boyfriends insist on accompanying you to a baking class.

warnings: swearing, all the tooth rotting fluff in the world

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this lil drabble was inspired by a daydream @neverlandcity & I came up with together about how funny it would be to take a baking class with our idiot boyfriends, & how we would both absolutely sell our soul for this. thanks for always contributing to my silly little fantasies about these two sweet baby d. <3

psa, if you come into my inbox to ramble about your daydreams with me, odds are i'm gonna write it.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Jesus Chr-would you shut the fuck up?”

“That’s not what it’s supposed to look like-”

“And how the fuck would you know what it looks like, Red?”

“I don’t need to see to know you’re going in the wrong direction, Castle. It’s supposed to be the other way-”

“Did I lecture you when you were doin’ your part? Huh? Quit bustin’ my goddamn balls and get off my ass.”

“Frank you’re-”

“Everything alright over here?”

Frank and Matt both whipped their heads in the direction of the instructor, a light shade of scarlet coating both of their cheeks as they cleared their throats and mumbled apologies. A smirk tugged over your lips as you caught the instructor’s eye, popping another chocolate chip into your mouth as you leaned against the counter and shrugged.

“They’re just having a lovers quarrel. Happens all the time.”

Matt’s plump lips immediately pursed into a pout as he stood with his hands on his hips, and Frank let out a quiet grunt in the back of his throat while returning to the task at hand. You couldn’t help but giggle as the instructor walked away, earning a glare from both men.

“Keep it up. We’ll see how much you’ll be laughin’ later when we get you home.”

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you grinned as you moved to stand in between Matt and Frank, gently wrapping your fingers around Frank’s forearm.

“Hey, you two said you would behave, remember?”

“We are behaving.”

“Lying is a sin, Matthew.”

Matt let out a quiet scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the table. You couldn’t help but giggle again as you turned to gently cup his face in your hand.

“Aww, don’t pout Matty. You’re both doing a great job. But if you keep bickering like that, you’re gonna get us kicked out of this baking class, and I really wanna stay. So can you two please be nice? Frankie?”

Frank let out another quiet grunt as you looked at him, twisting the top of the pastry bag in his massive hands as he continued to pipe frosting onto the cake he twisted around on the stand.

Initially, you had planned to come to this baking class alone. It had been a stressful week, and you wanted to do something fun to take your mind off of it. Baking was something that you’d always enjoyed, so you signed yourself up for a class that evening. As you were getting ready to walk out the door, Frank caught your arm and blocked your path to the door.

“Where you goin’?”

“To a baking class. I won’t be gone long.”

“A bakin’ class? You already know how to bake, darlin’. The hell you need a class for?”

A soft laugh left your lips as you placed your hands on his broad chest, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Because it’s fun and relaxing, and I could learn a few things I don’t know.”

Frank stared down at you for a moment with a look of contemplation, moving his hands down to settle on your waist as he pulled you in closer to his chest.

“Can I come?”

A look of surprise flashed across your features as you stared up at Frank with a smile blooming on your lips.

“You wanna come with me?”

“I don’t like you goin’ places alone.”

“I’ll be fine, Frankie. It’s not far.”

“I never learned to bake. I was s’posed to…said I would, ya’know? Just never got around to it.”

Staring up at Frank with a soft smile, you brought your hand up to gently push his hair back into place when you realized he was talking about a promise he never got to fulfill with Maria. 

“Okay, baby. You can come.”

“Can I come too?”

Matt suddenly appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, tilting his head to the side slightly as he stared blankly in your direction.

“Why don’t you mind your goddamn business for one night? Ain’t you got devil shit to do?”

“Don’t you have murder and felonies to commit?”

“Boys, please. We’ve talked about this. Yes Matty, you can come too.”

Frank grumbled under his breath as a proud toothy grin stretched across Matt’s lips, causing your favorite dimples to appear on either side of his cheeks.

“Wipe that fuckin’ smile off your face, Red. Or I’ll knock it off.”

Everyone’s eyes were on you the second you stepped into the building with Matt and Frank on either side of you. You had pretty much gotten used to the confused stares the three of you got. Matt couldn’t see them anyway, and Frank simply didn’t care. But the hunger you saw in the women’s eyes anytime you went somewhere with the two of them still ignited a tiny ember of jealousy in you, causing you to hold onto them both a little tighter.

You couldn’t blame them. You still stared at Matt and Frank like it was your first time seeing them all over again, and they were yours. But you knew you didn’t have anything to worry about with them. Every time you looked at Frank, he was already looking right back at you with a knowing smile. And every time you went to reach for Matt, he was already right beside you with his hand stretched out for you to take. 

To your surprise and total delight, Matt and Frank were exceptional at baking. Matt’s heightened senses made him perfect at measuring things, picking out the ripest fruits and freshest ingredients, and knowing exactly when to pull your cakes out of the oven, along with when your frosting had reached peak consistency. Frank’s expertise with a knife allowed him to chop everything as finely and consistently as possible, as well as carve the shape of your cakes perfectly. He assembled them together with immaculate precision, paying close attention to detail as he spread the crumb coat and final frosting layers evenly and smoothly. 

Both of them had gotten so wrapped up in it, neither of them realized that you hadn’t done anything the entire time. You watched in awe at the way they moved around the space together, almost perfectly in sync, trading tools and pans wordlessly, actually listening to the others' commentary, complimenting each other's skills and ideas. You couldn’t help but notice the way everyone else in the class watched them too as if you were all in some kind of trance. 

These were your favorite moments with them. When they actually got along, and you could see in their actions and hear in their words how much they actually loved each other. 

But as it usually went with two people that had very strong personalities, it never lasted too long. 

As soon as it came time to put the finishing touches on their creation, they started bickering again. Matt insisted that Frank was piping the decorative icing the wrong way, and Frank kept telling Matt to fuck off. You should’ve stepped in when Frank called Matt a ‘candy ass rule following altar boy’, or when Matt said Frank was an ‘unhinged asshole with a trigger finger’, but you couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of them arguing with lavender colored aprons on. 

“Why don’t you two let me finish up? You’ve both taken over this whole thing.”

Both of the men stilled, a guilty look settling on their features.

“Shit. Sorry, darlin’. We didn’t-“

Frank looked at Matt for help, gesturing his hand towards him as Matt’s lips parted, rubbing at the back of his neck as he cleared his throat.

“We got carried away. I…we’re…sorry, sweetheart.”

Shaking your head slowly, you took the piping bag from Frank’s hands and pressed a kiss to both of the boys' cheeks.

“Can’t take you two anywhere.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

#matt murdock #frank castle #matt murdock x you #frank castle x you #matt murdock x y/n #frank castle x y/n #matt murdock x reader #frank castle x reader #matt murdock x female reader #frank castle x female reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #frank castle x fem!reader #matt murdock x f!reader #frank castle x f!reader #matt murdock x reader x frank castle #matt murdock x female reader x frank castle #matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle #matt murdock x f!reader x frank castle #matt murdock drabble #frank castle drabble #daredevil drabble #the punisher drabble

[rzyraffek]

Hello I have a NSFWish?? Request could you do Eddie Gluskin and maybe Brahms W a pervy s/o? Like always checking them out, grabbing their booty and pecs - I know you've done some NSFWish stuff and this isn't explicit so I thought it'd be okie!

Thank you!!

- 🎨

O my god your a genius, I swear those guys are not expecting that! I hope that you don't mind adding few characters 😈 rest of notes at the end

They/them, Request open (yeah I know im taking long time to write but its summer time this person (me) is going o u t s i d e )

Slashers with pervy s/o

Eddie Gluskin

BRO TAKES IT AS INVITATION

Litteraly slaps their ass back

Kinda suprised at first, not used to people being so straightforward with him... and so brave... and- oh my darling your so...so...

bro caught simping

When they slapped him first time he just slowly turns around, he is about to whoop that ass HARDD

I swear anything playfully or just straightforward creepy/pervy this dude sees as flirt and a suggestion

But completely oblivious to their stares and eyes wandering in places, untill he looks at them directly he won't notice, BCS NOONE EVER YKNOW DID THAT TO HIM HE DOESNT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

Brahms Heelshire

I just realised that hes name is so british... omg just say it out loud BRAHMS HeelSHIRE this dude is more british than queen herself (rip btw) LIKE IF anyone in amercia or anywhere else really was named brahms fucking heelshire he would be bullied so hard. Tbh maybe that's why he's in walls

Feels threatened... he was suppose to be pervy one! Not his s/o :((

At least you guys have fun running around mansion and slapping eachothers ass??? Yay relationship goals!!!

Man says "I mean I support equal rights" just to trow them from stairs or something

Also HE LITTERALY BLUSHES when they touch him normally NOW IMAGINE IF S/O does that to his bootie

"Are you checking me out again? Stoophh"

Pls he just tries to cuddle when he feels their arms slowly moving lower and lower and- hold up what do you think your doing love?🤨😳

Asa Emory

No

Nuh uh

You dont

He will litteraly cut their hands off if they try to do anything skechy

Hes so dreamy

Pov: asa just cutting vegetables for dinner, vibing, then suddenly out of dark corridor, emerges goblin-like creature (s/o) with evil grin, running to attack him, he tries to dogde it, but their evil arms are too quick, goblin smacks his ass so hard he collapses(dramatically), Asa feels the wave of embarrassment and dies immediately

Its currently 4am

Tbh he kinda likes the attention, like s/o is such a simp for him rn, his ego loves itttt

If some stuff doesr make sense im sorry, its 4am and I want to clear my inbox asap cuz I feel bad for all people that are waiting for my fics. Although you still can request!!! Im just trying to get some ideas for old ones (cuz tbh some of yall dont really have ideas for requests and just say "write for this dude ok bye" 😔😔 plz ily all but I cant work with that, I need some sort of idea, even boring one or overused

#slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #brahms x reader #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #brahms heelsire #eddie gluskin x reader #eddie gluskin #eddie x reader #request open

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Yandere!Yang Jeongin x F!Reader TW : jeongin redemption sort of but at what cost? ; mention of readers s**c*d* attempt ; reader depression ; Jeongin doing his best ; it's still really angsty ; reader has very valid trust issues ; fluff ending though because Jeongin never gets any fluff ; Word Count : 3.1K Request : @slayhyunjin @neteyamsmate4life and the one anon who was in my inbox... Part 2 for Pins and Needles!! A/N : THIS ONE TOOK A TURN FOR THE BETTER! YAYYYY!!!

“Good morning, beautiful…” Jeongin whispered, his words slightly slurred by his yawn as he stretched his arms above his head. “You’re making breakfast?” He questioned, walking over to where you stood at the stove, trying not to pay too much attention to the way you flinched away from him, your movements went from fluid to almost robotic. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Do you care?” You mumbled back, taking a shaky breath as you flipped the omelet in the pan. Jeongin couldn’t help but appreciate just how perfectly you did it too, there was no residue on the side, none had splattered over the edge, you had gotten it to land right in the center. “Please don’t pretend just because you found me like that. It’s the first time and the last time I’d let you see me that way.” 

“I hope it was the first and the last time you’d try to do something like that in general.” He snipped, but immediately clenched his teeth. You were annoyed with him, and reflecting on the way he had been made it very clear that he deserved everything you might want to do or say to him. “I do care though… I want you to sleep well… A good sleep is important for your health.” 

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and sliding the omelet to the center before placing the bacon on the side. “You can eat now.” You said flatly, setting the plate down at his spot and then grabbing his drink. “I’m gonna take a shower and-” 

“D-Don’t… Don’t lock the door…” He blurted out as his eyes widened, his fork inches brom his mouth but the food falling off of it and back onto the plate. “Please… Just in case you need me for anything… I can come in and help you.” He rambled, and your eyes shut as you shook your head. 

“God, would you just stop.” You sounded so tired when you said it, your hands slipping into the pockets of the hoodie you were wearing. When your eyes opened once more, you were glaring at him and it pissed him off to be honest. He was trying his best and you were just pushing him aside. How was he supposed to be better for you when everything he did seemed to piss you off? 

“Stop what? What am I supposed to do? I’m trying to change and that’s not good enough for you! So tell me! What do you want!?” He shouted, and he saw you shiver, it was evident that him raising his voice still scared you, and while it used to be amusing to him, now it was just upsetting. How could he have ever found that to be amusing in the first place? He never wanted to hurt you, but it just became habitual almost. That in itself was sickening. 

“I don’t know!” You shouted back, but it was like you immediately backed down, inching back until you were standing against the fridge, like you were trying to disappear inside of it. “I’m scared of you…” The whispered confession had his heart sinking and he wanted nothing more than to run over to you and hold you, to tell you that you didn’t have to be scared anymore, but he knew that wouldn’t make anything better, not at all. “I’m scared of you being nice to me because I never know when you’ll go back to being that way… At least when you were treating me like garbage I was prepared for it daily… Now I just… I don’t know… And that’s the scariest part. So just… Just stop…” 

Seeing you in the bathtub… Seeing you trying to leave him like that… It had been a rude awakening, but one that he very clearly needed. Now he was left with the pieces of you that he had broken, and he didn’t know how to handle you, he didn’t know where to even begin in putting you back together. Being gentle wasn’t working, but it made sense… The pieces were shattered almost beyond recognition, every time he thought he was getting somewhere, you’d fall apart all over again… Or maybe the pieces had never fit in the first place and it was all wishful thinking on his part. 

Now he had to watch you walk away, closing the bedroom door behind you, and he heard the lock click, and while he had the key to get in, he wanted to believe that you were at least past the point of wanting to hurt yourself. Sometimes he felt selfish… He knew he was selfish… You wanted to leave him, he had put you through enough… He should have let you go that night… But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Somewhere beyond the sick twisted part of him that found fun in making you cry, he did love you, and now that twisted part of him was long gone and all he could feel was love for you, and you weren’t ready to give it back… And maybe you’d never be ready. 

“Are you sleeping already, beautiful?” He whispered when he walked into the bedroom after work. He was exhausted, but the entire day he thought of nothing more than coming home to you. There was no dinner made, the house was clean, but it was also still… Which in itself scared the hell out of him and had him rushing to the bedroom to check on you. God, he’d never get that image out of his mind, it even replayed often when he was working, enough to text you every hour, and even if you didn’t respond, you’d read the message which let him know that you were okay. 

The room was dark aside from the faint glow of the moon that painted the carpeted floors a pristine white, and he thought that maybe, maybe he’d finally get to sleep beside you for the first time since everything happened. Usually you’d get up as soon as he came in and you’d move to the couch, and he wanted to argue, he wanted to tell you to come back, but again, he was trying to be better, and he respected the fact that you needed space. What might be easy for him to do was obviously not at all easy for you. 

He pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, climbing under the blankets and moving as close to you as he possibly could without waking you up. Your hair still smelled of the shampoo and conditioner that you used earlier in the day when you took your shower, and that in itself was comforting. There was a warmth that radiated off of you, one that he had never taken the opportunity to fully appreciate before, but it made him feel fuzzy, it made him feel safe… He wanted to give you those same feelings… 

“I’ll move to the couch now…” You murmured tiredly, and he wondered if maybe you had just been laying there silently waiting for him to come home or if you had actually been sleeping and he had just woken you up. You started moving and he reached out to grab your hand, and it was like grabbing a statue the way you froze, he could hear you inhale sharply, and he wondered what was going through your mind right now, what you thought he’d do. 

“Please don’t… Can you just sleep in here tonight? I’ll even put pillows between us… I just want you next to me…” His hold wasn’t tight at all, and his thumbs brushed lightly over your wrist, trying to show you that he could be gentle, he could be sweet. He could be all the things you had wanted him to be before… He was changing for you… He wanted you to see that. 

“Do I have a choice?” You mumbled, and while he wanted to say no, he wanted to tell you that you had to lay beside him, he knew that would only be setting him back. He hummed softly, and while it wasn’t truly an answer, his actions were enough, letting go of your arm and dropping his hand back down on the mattress. “I can respect… I appreciate the fact that you’re not… hitting me… or yelling at me… Or belittling me anymore… Thank you…” You sighed heavily through your nose and he could hear you rubbing your hands nervously against your lap. You were still scared of him. “I’m just not ready… It’s a lot for me… But I’m trying too… I hope you know that…” 

You were trying… And while he couldn’t really tell at first, the fact that you sat there long enough to tell him this, to explain to him why you couldn’t lay beside him… He could tell that you were doing your best. He respected that, and he wasn’t going to force you to do something that scared you or made you uncomfortable, so he relented. “I do… I know…” He whispered, pushing himself up so he was sitting on the bed, his body fully turned towards you. “Is the couch comfortable? You can sleep in the bed and I can take the couch if you want…” 

You let out a little laugh, and the sound was weird… You hadn’t laughed in so long, it was almost nostalgic, sending his mind back to a time when your giggles were heard almost daily when he was with you. It had been so long… It had him getting choked up. “Don’t worry… I’m used to it. I’ve been sleeping on the couch for months now.” Your attempt at reassurance was nothing more than another slap though when the lightbulb clicked and he realized just what you were saying. 

All those times that he had woken up in the morning and the bed was empty, he thought it was just because you had woken up before him to make breakfast… But you had somehow managed to slip out in the middle of the night to be away from him and he hadn’t even noticed… You didn’t want to be around him at all. “Oh… Well… We can change that… I can sleep on the couch, really… It’s no big deal…” 

The conversation was just going in a circle at this point, and while most people would find it annoying, the constant back and forth… This was the most you had talked to him in the two months since the incident. He hadn’t realized how much he missed your voice until now. “It’s fine, Jeongin…” You said his name… It sounded so wonderful coming from your mouth, he wanted to hear it over and over again. “Get some sleep… Goodnight.” Had it been too much contact for you? You were rushing out of the room now, and while he wanted nothing more than the conversation to keep going, he didn’t want to push you, so he watched you walk out the door, your body silhouetted by the hall light until it disappeared once the door had shut again. He was alone… And while he had been alone every single night before… Now he knew about it and it hurt, the darkness was eating away at him, and for some reason he was scared, although he wasn’t sure what of.

“I had a nightmare last night, beautiful.” Jeongin said, hearing your feet pad across the floor and then stop at the entrance to the kitchen. “Do you want to hear about it?” He turned around to see your very confused face. He had never made breakfast before, and while he was pretty damn sure he was burning everything, he wanted to do more, show you that things would be better and only get better from here on out. 

“S-Sure…” You stammered, walking over to the stove and eyeing the food in the pot with an ever more confused gaze. “Do you want me to take over and you can tell me while you sit and have your coffee?” You asked, noticing that he had already started to brew the drink, but he shook his head, motioning for you to sit down. “O-Okay…” 

“It was so scary… I woke up and I felt like it was real for a second…” He monologued, and you hummed softly, letting him know that you were listening to him. “You left me… And I couldn’t find you… I was so scared. And then I opened the bathroom door and-” 

“Ah…” You cut him off, drumming your hands on the table. “I know where you’re going with this… I’m not gonna do it again, if that makes you feel any better.” And it did, it made him feel a lot better, because for the first time since it had happened, you sounded honest when you told him it wouldn’t happen again. “Luckily, I don’t have dreams or nightmares anymore.” 

“Oh? Why not?” He mused, turning around to face you, leaning against the counter. He was genuinely interested in everything about you, and this was new considering when you had first got together you’d tell him every morning about the dreams you had the night before. When did things change? 

“Well my entire life up until now has been a nightmare in itself so… I guess my subconscious mind thought I deserved a little bit of peace at some point.” Oh… That made sense… It didn’t make him feel any better, but it made a lot of sense. He quickly turned back towards the stove, his head hung low as he continued frying the egg in the pan, trying his best to make an omelet as good as yours was yesterday just for you. 

“I’m sorry… I really am…” He whispered, focusing on the egg now, trying to remember exactly how you flipped it to make it look so good. “I love you… And I’m never going to forgive myself for what I put you through. I was an awful boyfriend, just… An awful person in general and I know that I don’t… I don’t deserve to be standing in the same room as you right now… And I’m sorry… I’m just really sorry and this egg is going to be shit… And I’m sorry about that too… I suck… At this and everything and…” 

“Innie…” You cooed the nickname, and his heart seemed to freeze and simultaneously speed up at the same time. Hearing his name had been one thing, but hearing you call him that… It was like hearing heaven's bells ringing in his ears. “You’re gonna fuck up the omelet… A few times at least… But it happens, and it’s still gonna be delicious and I’ll eat it.” That wasn’t where he thought the conversation was going… But in a way, it made him feel a lot better. “You never apologized before… Not genuinely…” He had though… He knows he apologized… Had it been genuine? Maybe not… Maybe the initial apology had just been him ranting out of fear… He wasn’t sure. “It’s okay now… You know? I’m okay now…” What did that mean? What were you saying? He didn’t want to get his hopes up that things would be normal… And now he understood what you meant that night, when you practically ran away from him… Sometimes hearing someone be sweet after so long was scarier than the usual… He didn’t know what was coming next. “I thought a lot last night… about everything… And I… I think it’s okay now… For me… For you… For us…” 

“Us?” What were you saying… God you were so vague, he just needed to know, he needed to be 100% sure that he wasn’t being too hopeful. Was this your way of saying that you wanted to leave? Were you going to leave him? He had gotten better… But he still wouldn’t let that happen… He needed you there… He did. “Wh-What are you… What do you mean? You’re scaring me right now, beautiful…” 

It was like he couldn’t get his breathing under control, just the thought of you leaving him had him tearing up, a knot forming in his throat that he couldn’t get rid of. “Come here…” You whispered, and he slowly took those few steps towards you, pausing a couple inches away just in case you didn’t want him too close to you, but then you stood up, your hands folded in front of your lap as you pursed your lips. You looked just as shy as you did after your second date when he had kissed you for the first time, what he wouldn’t do to live that moment again. “Do you think that.. When you’re done making the omelet… We can maybe… I don’t know… Cuddle or something?” 

Cuddle… You wanted to cuddle? He felt like a complete idiot that it took so long for the question to fully click, but once it did, he was reaching back to turn off the stove, scared to take his eyes off of you, worried that you’d change your mind, but once that fire was out underneath the pan he was scooping you up in his arms and rushing towards the couch, your laughter like music to his ears as you buried your face in his neck. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that!?” He whined as he fell back on the couch, bringing you down with him onto his lap. “I almost cried!” 

“You did cry!” You teased, sitting back and looking at him, and there was a twinkle in your eyes that was akin to all the stars in the sky at night, so beautiful, and he couldn’t help but reach his hand up, brushing his fingers along your cheeks. How could he have ever hurt you? Did he even deserve this chance? You leaned in to kiss him, the feeling setting off fireworks in his chest, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, but it felt good… He liked that feeling… “You’re thinking too much…” 

“Do that again… please… Just so I can be sure…” He murmured, his fingers gently tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer, and you didn’t pull away, instead your lips collided with his once more and it was like a dream, the best dream, and if that’s all this way, he never wanted to wake up. “You love me… right?” He whispered when you pulled away, your own fingers catching the tears that had at some point begun to fall. 

“I do… I love you, Innie… Always…” 

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz x you #yandere!stray kids #yandere!skz #yandere skz #yandere stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fic #skz headcanons #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz drabbles #skz fics #yang jeongin #jeongin #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x reader #jeongin x you #jeongin headcanons #jeongin scenarios #jeongin imagines #jeongin drabbles #jeongin fic

[bugsnaxaudio]

I don’t suppose you’ve already posted Snorpy and Chandlo’s conversation from the last big party, have you? 👉👈

All together now: aww!

Sorry for letting this collect dust in my inbox for almost a month, anon. Not sure why this took me so long...

FUN FACT THAT'LL RUIN THE SWEETNESS OF THIS SCENE: When I exported the audio from Audacity, this is what I saved it as:

So if anyone wants to draw Snorpy and Chandlo as that one picture of Jesse Pinkman and Walter White homo-erotically in bed together and Jesse asks "What are we, Mr. White?", you have my blessing.

Audio transcript under the cut for brevity's sake.

Snorpy: [clears throat] Chandlo… I-I…we've been together for so long and I've always wondered how you feel about me and… d-do you want to be my boyfriend?

Chandlo: What? Bro, that doesn't make any sense.

Snorpy: Oh, I see... Y-yes... Never mind. F-forget what I said-

Chandlo: Snorpy, we've been dating for YEARS.

Snorpy: W-wait… what? How is that possible?!

Chandlo: Dude, remember that time we made out on that ferris wheel and I said we should move in together?

Snorpy: W-w-well, w-yes, I-I just thought we were… roommates with benefits. You know I hate ambiguity!

Chandlo: Sorry, Snorp-Dawg! [kisses] Is that clear enough for ya?

Snorpy: [unintelligible flustered stammering]

Chandlo: I love you, dawg! Now, LET'S DANCE!

#bugsnax #snorpy fizzlebean #bugsnax snorpy #chandlo funkbun #bugsnax chandlo #audio type: story event #requested

[dumbificat]

‎INEVITABLE EVANESCENCE ✮⋆˙

multifandom angst prompt event.

no matter the person, no matter the place. we will all fade away. that is our ‎inevitable evanescence.

— RULES ✮⋆˙

— reblog / comment if you’re interested in joining + the character(s) you’ll be writing for (so i know how many people will be joining) ('ω') — you can reblog even if you aren’t joining -> it helps with reach, so please do !!

— work with these prompts how you like ! there are no fandom restrictions. please write for one of the following: character x reader, character x character, character x oc, any of the aforementioned but platonic.（^人^）

— no nsfw, only sfw or suggestive - if you’re unsure if your work is too much, reach out to me before you post (⌒▽⌒)

— when you post your work, please use the tag 「INEVITABLE EVANESCENCE ✮⋆˙」 + @ me ! i’ll be making a masterlist for the published works :D

— when you post, please put which prompt you’ve used - either the word or the whole thing !

— you have until june 2nd to post, but if you need more time or want to withdraw, please let me know as soon as you can ! this is voluntary and just for fun after all ٩(^‿^)۶

— if you have any questions, reach out to my inbox or on discord (also dumbificat) ^_^

PROMPTS ✮⋆˙

FADE — watching as the light fades from their eyes, muttering soft “no’s” as they weakly reach up to your face, pushing hair behind your ear for the last time.

「i’m so glad you’re here…」 「of course i am, i promised, didn’t i?」

WITHER — they’ve been in a tough battle, now they limp on the bed. you’ve been treating them with such care but it’s hard to watch as they wither away.

「hang in there, okay?」 「i’ll try. for you, i’ll try.」

WANE — (romantic) after years in a relationship, you can feel their feelings wane. they don’t look, touch or say the same things they used too. will you let them go gently or fight for what once was?

「i’ll see you later. love you.」 「do you? you can’t even say “I” before it. what, are you scared of a letter?」

DISSOLVE — having to leave, not knowing when you’ll next see each other. you share one last hug, pulling away with shuddered breaths. it takes only a moment before their resolve dissolves into a mess of tears.

「please don’t go…」 「you know i have to. if i could, i would. you know that, too.」

VANISH — it’s been days since the accident, you’ve been by their side the entire time. the beeping of the heart monitor is enough to give you strength, but a flatline was quick to make that strength vanish.

「no… no, NO! IT’S NOT FAIR!」

DWINDLE — (hanahaki disease au) your best friend sits at your side, shocked at your state. you seemed fine days ago, how could you get so ill so fast? you contemplate telling them how you feel, ruining your friendship all the while or force them to watch as you dwindle away.

「how did this happen?! please, tell me!」 「i can’t…」

DIM — you notice how their smiles are weaker, dimmer than usual. it’s clear something happened, but you don’t know how to ask. you only hope you can offer comfort, but even that might be too much.

「i can tell you’re hurting. please, talk to me.」 「…」

DECLINE — they’ve been coming home late, not responding to texts. you barely know who they are anymore. your relationship declines, culminating when they send a fatal message:

「stop messaging me, you don’t need to know where i am.」 「so i guess that’s it then?」

DEGRADE — (platonic) they started hanging out with new people, leaving you in the memories of what your friendship used to be. you work up the courage to question the degradation of what you were but that might be the last time you speak.

「leave me alone.」 「you’ve changed. im glad you’re showing your true colours now.」

EVANESCE — they hurt you. more than you could ever imagine. promises were broken, as was your heart. you can’t stop the tears when they began to yell at you.

「what the hell is your problem?!」 「i’m sorry…」 「it’s too late for that now.」

well? what are you waiting for? join now !! :D

#INEVITABLE EVANESCENCE ✮⋆˙ #multifandom #angst #event #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #prompts #angst prompts #blog event #dumbi

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞 ✿

@junerixi asked: This is just angst.. Maybe comfort but you decide.

You know how Venti took the form of his friend? Well what if he thinks the reader likes him just for his looks? I've been thinking about it for quite a while..

My brain stopped there, I can't think of any other words to describe it without me getting second hand embarrassment..

characters: venti x gn!reader

warnings: fluff, reverse comfort, body dysmorphia, existential crisis, venti having doubts😢

notes: sorry i took so long to respond junie😔 but here it is, a venti fic for the number 1 venti simp. also i’m finally clearing my inbox so keep the requests coming y’all😤💪

beautiful melody and soft singing can be heard whenever you enter your home shared with your loving bard of a boyfriend. however today the home you’ve shared together was eerily silent. no humming, no snoring, no stringing of the lyre. just complete hollow silence.

“hummingbird? darling, are you home?” shrugging off your outer layers and walking to your shared bedroom, a faint sniffing can be heard from the cracks of the door. it was so silent and miserable as if the person crying inside was trying to hide away from the whole world.

stepping inside your shared bedroom, you saw a small ball, curled up under the covers, shaking and twitching violently. cooing soft reassurances under your breath, you moved to hug his curled up body, laying behind him and pulling him close.

whispering soft praises, understanding words and humming a song that the bard made only for the two of you, you gently kissed where you think his forehead would be.

after some time of just simple laying there, humming a song, your lovely bard peeked out from under the covers. his puffy red eyes and pouty lips staring up at you.

“d-do you love me sniff as for who i am, [name]?” shattering the poor fragile heart of yours with that question, venti only managed to whisper his doubt out loud.

it was no good. he will always be a thief, a liar, a fake, a disappointment. he will never be venti. he will always be the tiny, helpless elemental being who watched as his only friend got shot through his heart. he will always be the empty husk of a being which never had a body to call his own. he will never be venti. just the simple, pathetic, weak, nameless, hopeless elemental-

as if sensing his swirling mush of dark thoughts, your warm hands wrapped around him tightly. pulling his head to lay over your chest, feeling the warmth of your skin, hearing the heart beat in your chest, feeling the life you breathe.

and the dam that was putting his facade of a happy-go-lucky bard broke when you simply whispered his name with love pouring from your soul. clinging to your clothes tightly, wailing and sobbing out loudly like a child. begging for you to never leave him, never let go of him, never stop calling him by his name. only then did the bard understood. how could he not when the truth was out in the open, bare and naked all along?

yes, he is venti. your venti. and he will always be your beloved bard, venti.

#nobu.writes #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader angst #genshin x reader fluff #genshin x reader angst #genshin impact x reader fluff #genshin impact x reader #venti x you #venti x reader #venti fanfic #venti fluff #venti angst

[kipstarr-mojis]

⭐Welcome 2 my page!⭐[ INACTIVE ]

requests allowed: none

If your request does not follow ( ⬆️ ) then they will be deleted /nm

hi! im kip, i run this blog! i use he/it/fuzz pronouns! im a minor & neurodivergent, and i spend a majority of my time making emojis or playing minecraft .. /silly

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⭐will be edited!⭐

[singsweetmelodies]

Hello Katie 👋🏼👋🏼 :D

For the 50 romance prompts ask meme, I'll like to request for 44: soulmate AU: timers <3

but if possible... with a twist...? (you don't have to include a twist if it's too difficult to work it in!)

The twist being, for whatever reason, their countdown timers for each of them to the time they meet their soulmates doesn't match, so they think "we're not each other's soulmates. that's cool. (no it's not)" but it turns out that they're each other soulmates anyways. or they choose to be with each other in spite of not being each other's soulmates. idk. *nervous laughter*

hiiii charlotte 🥰 first off, i am SO sorry for the incredible delay with this answer!! i saw this prompt and i absolutely LOVED IT (and the twist!! 🙏 *chef's kiss*) but unfortunately i got struck with a horrible case of writer's block/work deadlines, and just couldn't get to it at all.

until yesterday: i decided to just open my inbox and see what came to me. no thinking, just following the vibe of a prompt and writing. and uh. this happened... not only did it get ridiculously long (oops?) but it also somehow became a mini "investigate montreal" fic?? so in that vein, i'm tagging @1016week and submitting a belated entry for Day 6 "Montreal"... ❤️

i love this one. hope you love it too!! 👀⌚

~

Charles' soulmate timer stops when he is seven years old, and he meets the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen.

He's been vibrating with excitement all weekend - not just because it's a karting cup, but because his soulmate timer has been ticking down to this day for months now. Well, not just months, not really. It's actually been his whole life, but Charles doesn't remember all of that. He only remembers the past few months, when the little numbers had been getting smaller and smaller, until there were only ten days left and Charles gasped when he realised that the day would fall on the same day as the Bridgestone Cup.

"Of course the girl I marry is going to like racing, too," he'd told Maman and Papa, confidingly. Not a lot about soulmates made much sense to him, but this did.

His Maman had tried to smile, and Charles had hugged her tight to let her know it was going to be okay. He would find his soulmate, and then everyone would be smiling, because that's what people do when you meet your soulmate.

(Later that night, when Charles had been too excited to sleep and he'd gone to the bathroom quickly, Charles had heard his parents having an argument in their room. The door was closed, so their voices were muffled, but Charles could still make out his Maman saying "I just don't think it's a good sign, to meet your soulmate so young!" But Papa had countered, "Many people do, and they have beautiful stories. You have to trust that our Charles will meet his perfect match tomorrow." And then there had been an icky noise, like kissing, and Charles had flushed the loo quickly and ran back to his room.)

Now, with the beautiful blue eyed boy standing in front of him, Charles thinks of Papa's words again. Our Charles will meet his perfect match tomorrow.

Charles thought it would be a girl who really liked karting, but this is even better. This is a boy who wins at karting, because he's holding a trophy in both hands and grinning like he couldn't be happier.

Of course Charles' perfect match would be someone who wins at karting. It's only right, because Charles also wins at karting.

Charles clears his throat. "Hi," he says shyly, and the blue-eyed boy jumps.

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," he says apologetically, and then he laughs. He has a nice laugh, Charles thinks - like he knows how to have fun. "You are a bit short," the blue-eyed boy adds, and hey.

"Hey," Charles protests. "I'm tall for my age. I'm seven."

"Well, I'm nine," the blue-eyed boy says, like that's the most impressive age in the world.

It is a bit impressive, but not very, because Lorenzo is much older than that. Still, it is a little scary - Charles is only seven. What if this blue-eyed boy doesn't like him because he's only seven? Older kids can be mean like that.

No, he is your perfect match, Charles reminds himself. This blue-eyed boy won't be mean to him, because that's not how perfect matches work.

Charles takes a deep breath, then he sticks out his hand. "I'm Charles," he says.

The blue-eyed boy takes his hand, and it feels... weird. A little bit like when you get shocked by static electricity.

Charles giggles, unable to stop himself, and the blue-eyed boy smiles, as though he likes that.

"Hello, Charles. I'm Pierre," he says, squeezing Charles' hand. His eyes widen a moment later. "Oh! You've met your soulmate?!"

Charles doesn't understand what he means. "Well, yeah," he says. "It's y-"

And then he notices it.

Pierre's soulmate timer, right there on his wrist, right above where Charles is gripping his hand - it's still ticking.

Now, Charles doesn't know a lot about soulmates yet, but he knows that that's not good. Not good at all.

"I, um," Charles stammers, and then he does the one thing Maman and Papa said you should never do to your soulmate. Charles lies.

"I met so many new people today. I don't remember who it was."

Pierre's face falls. "Oh," he says, and he sounds unbearably sad for Charles. "But..." He chews his lip, shaking his head with a deep frown.

Then, mid-shake, Pierre's expression changes to one of determination. "I will help you find them," he says, with the kind of confidence Charles can only dream of when he's not on the racetrack.

He tugs on Charles' hand - which he still hasn't let go of - and Charles is helpless to do anything but follow.

~

They don't find Charles' soulmate anywhere, of course, and then Charles has to go win his race - but Pierre makes him promise that they will find each other at the next French karting event, and Charles will tell him all about his soulmate.

Charles promises, even though the idea makes his stomach feel all funny. I shouldn't be lying to my soulmate, he thinks, guiltily.

But Pierre's soulmate timer didn't stop ticking, and... that's not how soulmates are supposed to work.

The moment he's in the car with his father after the race, heading back home, Charles asks him about it.

Papa is quiet for a long moment, then: "Are you sure there wasn't someone behind Pierre, Charles?" he asks, in his careful, kind way. "Someone who's timer stopped at the same time as yours?"

Charles thinks about it for a moment, but even the idea of that feels - wrong, somehow. Like going into a corner and knowing you braked too hard, and you're going to flip the kart.

He shakes his head decisively. "No," he says. "It's Pierre."

He hears rather than sees his father blow out a soft sigh. Charles catches his eye in the rearview mirror, feeling confused and a little shaky inside.

When Papa sighs like that, it's never good news - it's usually something about sponsorship, which is a word Charles is already coming to dread.

It doesn't make sense how this could be about sponsorship, though. It probably isn't.

Charles waits for his father to gather his thoughts, like he needs to do sometimes to make sure he says exactly what he means. (It's something Maman keeps telling him he should try doing as well, but he's not so good at that yet.)

"You know how even the greatest racing drivers make mistakes sometimes?" Papa asks.

Charles frowns, but he nods. "Yes?"

"Sometimes the universe is like that, too. Sometimes the universe makes a mistake, and stops the timers too soon," Papa explains.

Charles frowns. He hasn't heard about that before, but he guesses it makes sense. It's true what Papa said - not even Senna was a perfect driver who never made mistakes. It makes sense that the universe is the same.

"But this doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate, okay, Charles?" Papa says before Charles can spend too much time thinking about the whole thing. His voice is firmer than Charles was expecting, and he reaches up to tilt the rearview mirror to see Charles better.

"It doesn't mean you don't have a soulmate," he repeats, like he doesn't want Charles to ever doubt that. "It just means it's going to be a little harder to find them."

Charles frowns, and he can't help but be a little annoyed. Isn't the whole point of soulmate timers to make it easier to find your perfect match?

It's just his luck that his soulmate timer doesn't work properly.

"I understand," Charles says, though, because he can tell it's important to his father.

Papa nods, but he keeps watching Charles in the rearview mirror for the rest of the drive, like he sometimes does after a race where Charles crashed the kart badly and he needs to keep making sure that Charles is fine.

Of course Charles is fine. He doesn't think this is comparable to a bad race at all! It's a little annoying, yes, but it's not that bad. It's just a bit of extra work, isn't it?

Charles shrugs his shoulders, glancing quickly down at the stopped soulmate timer at his wrist.

Whatever. Racing is more important than soulmates, anyway.

~

Almost twenty years later, Charles still says that to himself almost every day, even if he doesn't believe it with nearly the same careless seven-year-old confidence anymore: racing is more important than soulmates.

It is, because it has to be.

The thing is this: his father's explanation to Charles' seven-year-old self had been true - if a little oversimplified, and painted with an overt layer of kindness.

The truth Charles knows now is that there are two reasons, two categories, for people whose timers stop when the other person's keeps running.

One is, like Papa had said all those years ago, a simple case of mistaken timing - cases where the universe or fate or whatever controls it all stopped one person's timer a little too soon, or the other's a little too late.

It's harder to find each other in those cases, but it's still quite possible.

And then there's the second category. The unrequiteds. People whose timers stopped at the right time - when they met the person who would be their perfect match - except that they are not that person's perfect match in return. It only goes one way.

It's rare, but it happens sometimes. No system is perfect, after all - not even a system of soulmates.

For years and years, Charles tried to convince himself that he fell into the first category. His soulmate timer simply stopped too early, by some cosmic accident - but it's okay, Charles insists to everyone who asks and to himself as well, because what it's done is given Charles more time to focus on his racing instead. He's not constantly glancing down at his wrist and wondering when his timer is going to stop ticking - he can just get on with the racing.

He'll find his soulmate eventually, but on his own terms. There's nothing bad about that, surely.

Charles believes that. Really he does.

Except.

Except, if it's true and Charles falls into the first category - the mistaken timing category - then it would mean Pierre isn't his soulmate.

Pierre, who kept the promise he'd made to a seven-year-old who wasn't even his soulmate (because, yes, he had found Charles at the very next French karting cup, and he'd asked to meet Charles' soulmate - and when Charles had to admit that he still hadn't found them, Pierre had hugged him and told him not to give up and that he would find his soulmate someday. Pierre had held Charles' hand and explained that his parents almost didn't find each other, but they did. So it might take Charles some time, but that was okay, because it had taken Pierre's parents some time too, but now they were happier than ever. He'd been so convincing, firm but kind and absolutely sure of himself, and he'd made Charles believe it. He also made Charles smile, genuinely and truly, when he promised he'd stick by Charles' side no matter what anyone else said or whispered about his stopped soulmate timer.)

Pierre, who kept that promise about sticking with Charles, too. Pierre who never stopped being kind, and loyal, and the best friend Charles could ask for, whether he was seven or thirteen or nineteen or twenty-six.

Honestly, how was Charles supposed to not fall hopelessly in love with him?

He tried to deny it. For years and years, Charles tried to deny it - I will find my soulmate someday and it will all make sense, he'd tried to convince himself - but the thing was, what made more sense than Pierre being his soulmate?

It was roundabout the time of Pierre's first win (when Charles was standing under the podium in Monza with an aching back but a heart soaring with joy for his best friend despite the disaster of his own race) that Charles resigned himself to the truth: Pierre is his soulmate.

He has to be. Isn't a soulmate meant to be your perfect match; the person who understands you better than anyone and makes you happier than any other person in the world?

There's nobody else who could make Charles as happy as Pierre does. Nobody, nobody. There's no point in even trying to deny it anymore.

Pierre is his soulmate. But he is not Pierre's.

And that's okay. It's okay.

It has to be.

~

It isn't okay, not really, but that's true of a lot of things in Charles' life, and he's learned how to deal with them. He can deal with this, too.

On the whole, Charles thinks he does a pretty good job of dealing with it. He gets to be Pierre's best friend, after all - isn't that just a different kind of soulmate? True, Charles might want more, but it isn't like he has nothing. He has Pierre, and he will have Pierre for the rest of their lives.

Not in the way he wants, but - at least he will have Pierre.

The one thing he tries never to think about is Pierre's actual soulmate. Because Pierre has one, he knows, and he will meet them at some point.

Charles doesn't know how the hell he's supposed to look at some soulmate of Pierre's, and smile at her, and not be hopelessly, heartbreakingly jealous.

(He will do it, though. He will learn to smile at Pierre's soulmate - for Pierre's sake. He'll do it for Pierre.)

But that's a bridge he will cross when they get there. He doesn't have to worry about it yet (or at least, that's what Charles keeps telling himself even as the months tick by, and he knows there aren't year figures left on Pierre's soulmate timer anymore. Just months now, and then... weeks.)

Charles isn't thinking about it. He's put it out of his mind completely - which is easy enough to do, thankfully, given everything that's been happening on-track this season.

That's probably why he accepts Pierre's invitation to dinner in Montreal without thinking twice about it. (Even if he had realised, though, Charles doesn't think he would have been able to say no, either. He would give Pierre everything, if he only asked.)

So they go to dinner in Montreal, and it's perfect, and wonderful, and laughter-filled, and all in all exactly what Charles needed to distract himself from the fact that he has yet another engine penalty, and the sinking feeling that the championship is beginning to slip out of his reach.

Pierre seems to realise it, because he's in even finer form than usual - teasing Charles and tickling his ribs playfully and making him laugh at every possible opportunity.

Even on the drive back to the hotel: they stop at a red light, and Pierre steals Charles' cap, and Charles is giggling and filming it while Pierre is giggling back, and he's pretty sure neither of them are thinking about it at all, until-

Until Pierre's face changes from laughter to something almost ashen. "Charles," he says, and for all the years Charles has known him, he's never once heard Pierre's voice like that. "My soulmate timer just stopped."

For a few seconds, the words don't even register in Charles' mind.

Then they do, and Charles can feel his heart drop. "What?" he breathes.

His hands shake, and he doesn't even register the fact that the light has gone green as he glances all around them, craning his neck to see if there's anyone behind the white Ferrari, or around to the side.

Just a few minutes ago, their car had been surrounded by fans on all sides, all jostling to try and get pictures of them. But now, somehow, they're all alone in the Montreal night.

(The irony of it all is not lost on him - is this how Pierre felt all those years ago, when he was trying to look for Charles' soulmate at a karting cup, but not finding anybody it could be?)

"Are you sure it stopped just now? And not earlier?" Charles asks, willing his voice not to shake.

"Yeah," Pierre whispers. He sounds... devastated.

"But," Charles says, and then he has to take a deep breath. "But there's no-one else here, Pierrot."

"I know," Pierre says, somehow even softer.

Charles' fingers clench reflexively around the steering wheel, and he's moving in blank autopilot as he puts the car into gear and starts driving forward again.

He doesn't even realise he's shaking his head until Pierre says softly, "Charles." There's something wounded about it.

Charles stops shaking his head and slams on the brakes instead, jerking the car into something he hopes is a parking space at the side of the road.

"I don't understand," he says, far more calmly than he feels. "You can't - I can't be your soulmate."

Okay, maybe he's not so calm after all. But he doesn't think... he doesn't think anyone would be calm, in this situation.

Pierre makes a sound that could almost be a laugh, except that it sounds too strangled. "Do you know," he says, "that I have spent half my life wondering if the soulmate system got something wrong in my case? Because if you're not my soulmate, then who is? Who could possibly..."

Pierre does laugh this time, shaking his head. "You know, I asked to go out with you tonight for a reason. I knew - I knew it would happen tonight, so I needed to..." He swallows. "I needed to see you, one last time. Before I wouldn't be allowed to love you anymore."

It jolts through Charles then, what Pierre is trying to say. "Pierre," he breathes, and now it's his turn to say his best friend's name in a way he doesn't think he's ever said it before.

But Pierre's not finished yet. "I thought I could have one last night with you," he says. "One last night, before I had to say goodbye to my feelings, and try to love someone else."

My feelings. Try to love someone else.

Charles Leclerc is a lot of things, but an idiot is not one of them. He knows what Pierre is saying. He's...

Pierre loves him too. All along, Pierre has loved him too.

Only, he never had the option of thinking we're soulmates, Charles realised, and his heart twists in his chest.

Because Charles, for all that he accepted his soulbond toward Pierre was unrequited - at least he'd had the option of them being soulmates. Yes, it was in a twisted way, but at least he'd had that.

Pierre didn't. And he still fell in love with Charles.

The thought hits him like a shell-shock, and it's enough that Charles can only sit there for a moment, staring blankly, as Pierre continues talking beside him.

"I meant for tonight to just be a quick dinner together, something fun but normal for us," Pierre is saying, wringing his hands. "But I lost track of time. I always lose time when I'm talking to you, Charlito, I could talk to you forever - but the point is, I forgot to tell you I need to go back. I forgot that I was meant to meet my fucking soulmate tonight, because I was spending time with you, and - "

He takes a deep breath, and then he laughs again, leaning forward to drop his head into his hands. "I felt it happen, you know? I knew exactly when my soulmate timer stopped, because I could feel it, and it's - it was when I put that fucking cap on my head, Charles."

The cap that he's still wearing. Charles' 16 Ferrari cap.

Charles' hands shake as he reaches out to touch it, just the brim. "Your soulmate timer stopped when you put my cap on," he says, because a part of him still can't believe that this is real, that he's not living in some kind of heartbreakingly wonderful dream.

Pierre straightens up so fast that Charles is left with his fingers dangling awkwardly in mid-air. "Yes," he says, suddenly looking wild, "but this doesn't have to change anything, Charlito, I promise. I will still help you find your soulmate, and I will - I'll learn how to live with an unrequited bond, it's -"

"No!" Charles interrupts, half-throwing himself across the car to catch hold of Pierre's hands. "No, no, no, no. No more unrequited bonds, Pierrot."

Pierre starts to shake his head, but then he stops in the middle of the movement. "What do you mean," he asks, very carefully, "no more?"

And suddenly, Charles feels giddy, of all things. "I mean, your timer didn't stop when mine did. So for years, I have thought that we can't be soulmates, or at least that you couldn't be my soulmate. But now your timer stopped when you put on my cap, so -"

"Stop, stop, stop," Pierre says, squeezing Charles' hands tightly. "What do you mean, my timer didn't stop when yours did?"

"Oh," Charles says, and then he winces, the weight of the only real lie he's ever told his best friend (the only real lie he's ever told his soulmate) settling onto his shoulders with uncomfortable heaviness. "Um. Well. Do you remember when we met, and you thought I already met my soulmate?"

"No," Pierre breathes, but it's not the kind of no that says "no I don't remember." This no is more like "no way."

"Yeah," Charles says, and he can't help but look down at his own wrist, where the soulmate timer has been stopped for years and years. "My timer stopped the moment I met you, Pierrot."

"You..."

Pierre doesn't look like he knows how to finish that sentence, but Charles understands him anyway. "How was I supposed to tell you? I was seven, Pierre, and your timer didn't stop. I thought it was a mistake for years."

"But?" Pierre asks, like he can tell there was a but.

Charles beams at him. "But, I realised that there was nobody else who could be my perfect match. So I thought you were my soulmate after all, but it was unrequited."

"Never," Pierre says with a fierceness Charles doesn't expect. "Charles, never. If I knew... if I thought I had even half a chance, I would have been with you anyway."

Charles tries to laugh, but it comes out all breathless. "No you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would," Pierre argues, and his voice is heartbreakingly sincere. "I don't care. I would have chosen you."

Charles hears a punched-out noise, and it takes him a moment to realise it came from him. The next moment, he's unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing awkwardly over to sit on Pierre's lap.

It's not quite comfortable, because for all its luxury, the white Ferrari does not have a lot of leg space - but Charles doesn't think either of them give a single fuck, in this moment.

"I love you," he tells Pierre, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I've always loved you, but I never would have stood between you and your soulmate."

"Funny," Pierre says, his hands coming up to grip Charles' hips, "because that's exactly what stopped me from kissing you senseless."

"Well," Charles says, and if he grinds down just a little on Pierre's lap, he'll swear to everyone who asks that it was accidental. "It doesn't have to stop us anymore."

"Never again," Pierre agrees, tightening his grip on Charles' hips. "Never."

"So kiss me senseless, please," Charles whispers, and then he adds "soulmate," and that's what does it. Pierre surges up and kisses him, wild and desperate and more than a little clumsy, but without question the best kiss Charles has ever had. His own cap digs into his forehead a little, but Charles can't even bring himself to care about that - they owe too much to this cap now, honestly.

Maybe the universe does know what it's doing after all, Charles thinks. Maybe the universe just wanted to write a good story for them. A story that goes like this:

Charles' soulmate timer stopped when he was seven years old, and he met the boy with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

Almost twenty years later, Pierre's soulmate timer stopped in a white Ferrari in Montreal, and Charles finally got to kiss the boy with the bluest eyes he's ever seen, the man who is his best friend and his soulmate.

The odds of it working out this way have to be... a million to one, probably, or maybe even less.

But then again, what are the odds that two boys who met at a French karting cup and became friends with a shared dream would both make it to Formula 1?

Maybe the answer is just that Pierre and Charles have always liked beating the odds.

~

(50 Romance Prompts Ask Meme) <- not currently taking more prompts, sorry!

#50 romance prompts meme #piarles #piarles fic #myfic #soulmate timers au #*me writing this to try and banish my writers block* so it's just going to be a short little drabble! #you can tell i am a scuderia ferrari fan and delusional because LOOK what happened lmfao #i don't think you could call this ''short'' in any sense of the word #in fact it probably belongs on AO3 #OOPS #but i love it #i love it SO MUCH #we are so back babyyyyy #(like any good ferrari fan i fully expect to be saying ''it's so over!'' a week from now) #(but let's enjoy it while it lasts!!) #(SOULMATE PIARLES BABYYYYY) #(posted at exactly 16:26 my time too! this makes me smile <333)

[utahlive]

Sticker update + Q&A

All the stickers have been sent out! Hopefully those of you who bought them will be receiving them in the next few weeks! Honestly I wasn't expecting them to all be bought so fast... THANK YOU!!! I really hope you enjoy them :D

Quick Q&A (because I need to clear out the inbox a little bit)

The art usually takes anywhere from 5 - 20 minutes for a regular episode. The hardest & most time consuming part is figuring out a good response (and I get distracted very easily) so that part can take from anywhere between literally 3 minutes to 45

Special ones take... 1/1.5 hours minimum. I don't usually time them and I don't always do them in one sitting. the haircut episode probably took 4-6 hours?

HELL YEAH I AM!!! I'd love to read or see whatever art (in every form) people make for this blog, it makes my day every time. Tagging is probably the best way!

That being said sometimes Tumblr is a little funky and doesn't show me tagged posts, so if you sent art in and it's been 4-5 days and it still hasn't been posted, feel free to tag the blog again or send in an ask with the link to your original post.

And my blog loves you, random citizen

(ps I’ll try to get back on regular updates tomorrow :] thank u for the patience!)

#4th wall break

[mage-parivir]

Hello hello,

Book 1 of AMR is releasing within a few hours! Really exciting stuff!

A couple of things I want to talk about ahead of the release:

First things first, I’ve said before that I wanted the demo for AMR to stay up until the game hits the market, and surreal as it is to say, today is that day! The demo version of AMR will be temporarily unavailable for a couple of days as I phase Book 1 out of the code, and create a stand-in character-creation scene (a la Fallen Hero: Retribution’s demo) to facilitate customized playthroughs. After the changes, the demo will start from the mage’s awakening scene in Arcadia, and anything before that will be inaccessible.

When the game goes online again, it will also include a new full-length update, which covers basically the rest of the Yotai arc. It’s been a long time coming! Thank you for your patience all this time. :D

Second thing to talk about: In the interest of full transparency, the published version of AMR is north of 90% similar to the demo version of AMR, with content up to the exoneration scene (right before the resurrection). The main differences in the release version vs. the demo are twofold: that the game has gone through a professional editing process, and that a number of choice forks throughout the game has seen some expansions. Overall, it should contribute to a more streamlined experience, but just in case anyone was expecting a dramatically different product vs. the demo, I’d just like to make this clear!

Last but not least, I wanted to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for being the reason that AMR could come to life. As an amateur writer and a non-coder, tackling an interactive fiction piece with hundreds of thousands of words was a terrifying, and often maddening endeavor. The enthusiasm surrounding this project is a big part of why I soldiered on despite it all, and I will always be thankful for your support.

I’ll be back tomorrow to answer some questions from the inbox and reblog the lovely fanworks that have come in since last month. Until next time, everyone!

Love,

Adam

#a mage reborn #aaaaahhhh its really happening

[appleasks]

–    G  U  I  D  E  L  I  N  E  S  .

     ⭑      BLOG  INFO.

this  is  an  independent  roleplay  ask  blog  (wow  that’s  a  mouthful) 

lucifer  usually  types  out  his  own  replies  and  ocassionally  as  an  editor  over  his  shoulder  (me).  lucifer  knows  he’s  speaking  with  the  living  world  but  doesn’t  know  he’s  in  the  show  called  ‘hazbin  hotel.’

       ⭑      CRITICISM.

i  answer  a  lot  of  asks  in  the  day  meaning  i’ll  likely  make  typos  so  do  be  kind  if  you  spot  them!  i  will  only  be  taking  constructive  criticism  into  consideration.  this  blog  is  only  my  second  shot  at  roleplaying  so  apologies  if  there  are  any  issues!

       ⭑      PORTRAYAL.

lucifer  will  be  portrayed  as  i  see  fit.  he  can  be  silly  and  kind  towards  lighthearted  asks.  inversely,  he  can  be  serious  towards  other  asks,  but  please  remember  to  separate  me  from  the  character. 

       ⭑      ASK  RULES.

NSFW  is  okay  on  my  blog,  seeing  as  lucifer  is  also  quite  open  to  the  idea.  excessively  troll  /  low  effort  asks  (e.g.  i  have  had  TONS  of  asks  just  saying  ‘bald’)  will  be  ignored  as  it  does  take  time  and  energy  out  of  me  to  tap  into  the  character’s  voice  when  i  answer  these.

this  one’s  specific  and  it  is  actually  the  reason  i  had  to  do  a  heavy  update  on  my  guidelines,  but;  i  have  had  people  come  into  my  inbox  saying  they  take  pleasure  in  indulging  in  the  following  :  dr*gs,  m*rder,  ab*se,  s*icide,  sh,  and  more  along  these  lines.  asks  like  these  aren’t  allowed  unless  you’re  clearly  joking  or  using  it  as  an  expression.  however,  merely  mentioning  these  topics  IS  allowed.  i  understand  some  people  will  still  not  be  comfortable  seeing  it  being  used  as  such,  but  as  someone  who’s  had  experience  in  the  last  three  topics  listed,  i’m  not  easily  fazed  and  do  not  wish  to  censor  this  blog  too  much.  here  are  some  examples  of  what  i  do  not  allow  : 

the  rest  is  only  the  obvious  :  i  will  not  condone  homophobia  and  racism,  and  will  not  be  entertaining  asks  over  political  views. 

however,  if  you  are  suffering  from  s*icidal  thoughts  or  sh  and  you  cannot  refrain  from  sending  me  an  ask  about  it,  please  at  the  very  least  provide  me  a  way  to  contact  you  in  private  so  as  to  not  trouble  others  viewing  this  blog. 

       ⭑      RESPONSE  TIME.

to  those  who  have  been  here  since  the  beginning,  i  am  so  sorry  i  am  no  longer  able  to  get  through  asks  as  quickly.  i  have  a  real  life  as  well  as  my  main  blog  to  attend  to  so  you  ask  might  take  a  while  to  get  to!  i  should  not  take  more  than  a  week  to  get  to  your  ask,  but  apologies  if  i  still  do.

       ⭑      ART.

any  art  on  this  blog  (as  scarce  as  it  may  be)  is  drawn  by  the  editor,  me.  please  do  not  repost  without  my  permission! 

       ⭑      OOC.

some  of  my  personal  thoughts  or  comments  to  your  asks  will  be  in  the  tags  labelled  as  ‘ooc’.  sometimes  i  may  also  make  announcements  on  this  blog  without  using  lucifer’s  voice  so  do  take  not  of  that!

       ⭑      WARNINGS.

as  mentioned  above,  this  blog  may  contain  mentions  of  m*rder,  ab*se  (probably  because  of  val  asks)  nsfw,  manipulation,  gore,  body  horror,  immoral  views,  etc.

       ⭑      UPDATE  LOG.

03.04.24   —   more  clear  guidelines  hehe

#.lucinav

[minniiaa]

I AM FROTHING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!!!!11!!!!1!!!!!! YOU GOT ME BARKING

First of all, thank you ^-^ <333

You've not only satisfied my simp heart with bottom Law but also my yearn for and emotionally constipated Law being proven wrong

Second, I have more ideas or course :D

This is a gigantic leap from my previous… contributions, but I want to share my love for something I enjoy just as much as my little guys (grown ass men) getting railed in such a way it puts the trolley problem to shame. Sweet, sweet aftercare, I dunno what about it that enthralls me but just- like- I- jsbdudbskospaks-

It's an honest 50/50 whether the aftercare situations I think up actually comes after sex or if it's all I think of. It has me by the throat man.

Something about Law feeling safe enough to tell Luffy when he's had enough without feeling the need to force or threaten Luffy, or not holding out far past his limit so Luffy doesn't “get bored of him” makes my brain melt and mold back into the shape of a sea urchin.

OH, MORE THOUGHTS!!! >:0

Here me out, modern au, Law comes back to their apartment more tired than he's ever been after the longest shift he's pulled in a while. All he wants, more than anything, is their bed, screw the shower, he couldn't stand long enough to take one and he knows the moment his knee bends further than what's needed to walk his body will collapse. So he heads straight to bed, unsurprisingly, Luffy is awake and anticipating Law's return to give him his “goodnight kiss” that became the only constant thing Luffy upholds. Law tosses himself into bed as soon as he gets his pants off, leaving them on the floor along with his shirt, and Luffy is immediately on him. Not to Law's dismay, he knows he won't last long but the fact that Luffy still wants him when he's coated in sweat and deadweight kind of turns him on. He's right, he doesn't last when Luffy eats him out while running only the pad of his thumb up and down the base of Law's shaft, and GOD does everything *hurt. Law doesn't get that post-nut daze, instead he's hit with an ache deep in every muscle and bone from the souls of his feet to the back of his head that he has no choice but to succumb to. So badly does he want to feel Luffy all over him, all up in him, but he can't ignore his limit if he tries. He gets what he wants anyways, without having said a word Law's exhausted body is crushed by the concrete hold Luffy calls a hug, and Law couldn't be more grateful for Luffy's mysterious workout routine. It's the silent communication of Law's needs that relaxes him further, not needing to rely on his voice for Luffy to know, to understand, his pain makes it all the more easier to just let Luffy take care of him.

You got me out here writing paragraphs man, you've changed my chemical components on a spiritual level lol. Also, I stand by that my headcanon dumps are a bit much, so just know that I don't expect a masterpiece response every time. I MEAN THEY ARE ENCOURAGED CAUSE GYATT DAMN, would ABSOLUTELY eat your writing while dressed better than for a wedding and a napkin in my lap, but I dunno, I don't want you to think I'm trying to make you pump out tailored content for me. Definitely just like my own self-consciousness wanting me to make that clear sorry lol I think this might be the largest headcanon dump I've shared.

-💫💀💫

ANONNN I AM SO SORRY I JUST CHECKED MY INBOX AND SAW THIS BEAUTY!!

I am sooo glad you enjoyed my little oneshot I wrote and it scratched the itch of your last message. I just took that idea and RANNNNNN with it I have to admit.

I am also super happy that you came up with your own head canons omfg I'm frothing. I definitely can't write a whole story this time, but you inspired me to add some of my own little head canons because it was just too good!

You are hilarious and I am picturing you dressed for a wedding waiting for dinner but it's actually just my writing. Don't feel self-conscious, I live for this shit. You can leave headcanons whenever though I can't promise I'll be able to get back asap, I will always slurp it up and add my own thoughts if it's something that speaks to me. Maybe one day you'll decide to share your own stories and I will be the one who gets to leave my headcanons in there! :)

With that being said, here are my thoughts:

I loveee Lulaw aftercare (and just aftercare in general cause who doesn't like the sweet moments after getting your insides rearranged), especially your situation. I'm deceased at the thought of Luffy always waiting up for Law's goodnight kiss. Does he do it because he wants Law to be the last thing he sees every night before bed? Or because he wants to make sure that he's awake if Law needs him after his long hard days at work? Maybe both, Luffy is self-indulgent and also wants to do whatever he can to make Law feel loved and comfortable.

Sometimes Law needs Luffy to fuck him until he forgets about how shit his day was and how maybe he lost a patient and he just needs his mind and body filled with nothing but Luffy who can push him to the edge in unimaginable ways. Luffy never says no, he could eat Law for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He just loves watching the way his normally tense and irritated lover falls apart underneath him. Other times, Law just needs his partner to give him a quick and much-needed release before pulling him into his arms and giving him the attention he craves when he can barely think straight after a stressful day, his body screaming at him to just shut off and let go.

Luffy knows Law so well that he never has to tell him what he wants which is great because Law is terrible about asking for things. He never wants to be a burden, never wants to feel like he's taking too much from Luffy when he's already given him everything he's ever wanted and more. Luffy feels Law's body going limp after he comes, how he sighs contently and buries his face into his chest. Law just needs him there to recharge him, to soothe his weary body and soul and Luffy loves him so much he would never think of doing anything different.

Luffy knows exactly what Law needs in those quiet moments in the dark. He runs his hands over Law's aching body, healing him with his soft touches. Soft kisses are pressed against his skin, no intent to go anywhere further behind them even though Luffy yearns to feel Law around him, to hear his pretty sounds echoing through his ears. That can wait for another time, right now he will just satisfy Law with his gentle caresses. He wraps his arms around Law, pulling his weary form into his arms, so close that he begins to forget where he ends and Law begins just the way he likes it.

Law usually gets so flustered and cranky when Luffy spills his feeling out but they've been doing this for so long now that Luffy knows Law will let him say whatever he wants when they're like this and he takes full advantage of it. He plays with Law's hair, telling him how much he loves him, how he's so lucky to have him in his life, how he wants to be with him forever. He lists all of the thing he loves about him-his compassion, dedication, strength, and beauty.

Law loves the way Luffy's voice sounds when he whispers these sweet nothings into his ear. He's so calm and quiet, so different from his normally loudmouthed self. Sometimes he responds, though usually only with a "thank you" or "I love you". Words are hard for him even though he feels just as strongly for Luffy. It brings him comfort knowing that Luffy never expects him to say anything back, that he does this simply because he wants to.

Once, in a fit of insecurity, Law asked Luffy if he feels neglected because Law is so terrible with words and even though he tries, he just can't express how he feels inside. Luffy simply smiled at him and said "I know how much you love me. You don't need to say it. I just like to tell you because sometimes you get in your head like you are right now and forget". Another time, he apologized to Luffy for being too exhausted to move a muscle after Luffy went down on him. Just like before, Luffy smiled and said "Making you feel good makes me feel good. Taking care of you makes me happy."

After that, Law realized he might just be the luckiest man in the world. He stopped worrying about if Luffy wanted or needed more from him on these days when he he couldn't give anymore. He graciously took all the affection he was given, allowing Luffy's calming voice to lull him to sleep, saying words Law would never be able to accept were all for him.

That's all for today, sorry if it was a little messy I am too tired to proofread any further. Thank you once again for the food for thought <3333

#anon ask #ask #lulaw #law x luffy #lawlu headcanon #law #luffy #trafalgar d water law #monkey d luffy #one piece lawlu