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cupcakeinat0r · 8 months

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<3 Valentine’s Breakfast w/ DadBod!Miguel <3

[NSFW]

With the sun rays flowing in through the curtains, your eyes flutter open, your blurred vision focusing in on the gorgeous man lying on top of you. This is usually how it is. You start the night laying on his hairy and soft chest, but after tossing and turning through the night, you two never failed to end up in this position. It sort of just happens. You believe it’s Miguel’s need to protect you in every sense of the word, so he just absentmindedly engulfs you in his sleep.

Miguel was a big man. In every way. It was sort of hard to breathe when he was on you like this.

But that was more than ok. In fact, you thrived on the feeling of all his body weight on yours, his face snuggled deep into the crook of your neck and his Herculean arms wrapped around you, not too tight, but just enough so that you weren’t going anywhere. And yes, his snoring was loud, but you learned to love it, it becoming the music to your ears on mornings like this.

It only takes you a few seconds for it to click.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You smile to yourself, excited about all things you have planned for Miguel. But first… to figure out how the hell you were gonna get Gigantor off of you.

Unable to move, your head isolated, you look around for ideas. With your free hand, you reach for the blanket, slowly pulling it off of him in hopes he’ll move off of you to wrap himself in it again. Your idea succeeds, and he frees you just enough for you to sneak off the bed.

In the most cautious way humanely possible, you sneak out of the room (not before you softly kiss his forehead) and into the kitchen. You weren’t too worried, though. Miguel didn’t get to sleep in a lot like this due to his work, but when he did, not even a geographical disaster could wake him. You were safe.

You start listing in your head all the things you remembered you wanted to make him.

Your hands were ace in the kitchen. Everything you made, Miguel loved. One of his favorite parts of the day was coming home after a long day of work and into the arms of his cute sweet little housewife, a plate of delicious warm food already ready for him on the table. It’s kinda funny; it’s you he blames for his weight gain, but you always reply with how much you absolutely love him that way, accompanied by a kiss and a playful smack to his juicy butt (which has also gotten larger, props to you).

You slave away in the kitchen, making sure everything was perfect, even down to exacting the edges of your heart-shaped pancakes, which matched the heart-shaped strawberry slices.

You go to check on the sleeping giant. He’s still knocked out thankfully, except he’s on his back now, hugging a pillow (thinking it’s you no doubt). Aw.

You notice that the blanket wasn’t on him anymore, which allowed you a beautiful view.

His dark wavy hair sprinkled with hints of gray tussled from his sleep. His 5 o'clock shadow framing his perfect, dark, plump lips. His thick neck, chest and arms, peppered with dark hair as well, resting beautifully. His soft midsection, rising and falling with each dad snore. Near his happy trail was a prominent tent, the print of his huge cock tightening his briefs. You bit your bottom lip at his morning wood. God, this man was too perfect for his own good. You could feel yourself salivate as you remind yourself of all the other things you had to get to like decorations or lighting the candles or the rose petals…

It doesn’t take much for you to give into your urges. He won’t miss the candles or any decorations anyways…

He’ll appreciate what you’re about to do way more.

You silently climb onto the foot of the bed, your face dangerously close to the bulge. You give it a small caress, your hands gently molding around the shaft on top of the fabric of his boxers. You look up when you evoke a barely audible groan from Miguel, who’s still asleep.

You apply just a little more pressure in your next caress, this time making his dick twitch and his hips faintly buck up into your hand, his instinctive neediness signaling you to proceed with your lustful endeavor.

You then lift the band of his boxers, his completely hardened cock immediately springing up. You have to literally suck in your lips to muffle a moan.

Your eyes drink in his perfectly shaped bush at the end of his delicious happy trail, the pumped veins going up his shaft, the singular drop of pre-cum already running down, and finally his fat tip. He was perfect.

You use the juice already there as lubricant, slowly stroking his dick, the other hand on his thick, hairy thigh for support.

You start to feel Miguel‘s thighs contract and hips slightly bucking up some more, little grunts escaping his lips. His arms tense up as well, his muscles clenching around the poor pillow.

His small, slow thrusts drove you crazy, not able to wait any longer to put your mouth to use. You test the waters by giving his tip soft licks, swirling your tongue on it in lazy, annoyingly slow circles.

This grants you a few quiet hums from him, his belly and round pecs rising and falling faster, his body telling you to keep going for him.

Faint ‘Ffuuuckkk’s and ‘Mmm’s were sighed in his sleep, brows furrowed, lips in a pout; signs that you were doing amazing.

You then take him in completely, hollowing out your mouth for him as much as you possibly can, because as mentioned before, this man is big.

You bob your head slowly a few times. It’s when you pull him out with a pop! and start treating it like your own popsicle does his eyes finally slowly open, his lips curling when he looks down at his now very cock drunk girlfriend with a satisfied smirk. His chuckle is low and silk-like, his morning voice making your cunt clench around nothing.

“Well,” his breathing remains labored, his jaw hanging open, “Good morning to you too, Mamita… Mmfuck.”

He says as you maintain eye contact, your lips wrapped around his long and thick member, tongue tracing along a vein. You pull away with a wet smack before saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy”, in the most sing song tone of voice.

Miguel tuts at your adorable yet seductive response, “ay, beba, so thoughtful n’ good to me…do that again...” he pleads.

“Like this, Daddy?” You ask, lapping your tongue over his tip just the way he likes it.

“Oh-oh fuck… si, just like that, mamita, así, goood girllll.” his head falls back against the headboard for a moment to sigh before looking back down at you again, seeing his balls in your mouth as your thumb works on his sensitive tip almost making him instantly burst.

You know he’s getting close when he starts panting, propping himself on his elbows and reaching a hand out to your scalp (it practically covers your entire head), gently applying pressure now that he’s in your mouth again. “Aw shit…. I’m close, mama, almost there… fuck, takin’ my fat cock so well, princesa…” He mutters apologies and thank you’s as he relentlessly rams into your mouth, his bush managing to meet the tip of your nose almost every time. He growls as he starts greedily thrusting his hips, face fucking his release into you.

You take your sweet time pulling him out of lips, making sure to get every single drop, your eyes on his the entire time. Once he’s out of your mouth, he sees you swallow, “Open,” and you do as he asks, “diablo, mami, eres tan sucia.” You begin to sit up, wiping your mouth, “Only for you, baby… C'mon, there’s some things in the kitchen for yo-“

“Oye, whoa whoa whoa,” He grabs your hand as you’re about to leave the bed and pulls you toward himself, “I didn’t say we were finished, did I?”

You fall into the bed again, Miguel guiding your hips onto his lap as he sloppily makes out with you, his tongue practically down your throat. “I’m not done with you yet, nena,” he mumbles against your lips.

He lays back down on the bed, “C’mere. Sientate.” He brings his hands up to his face motioning for you to sit on your throne.

You wince, now realizing you forgot that you had meant to shave last night.

“Babe, noooo wait... I haven’t shaved…”

Miguel furrows his brows, a confused scowl on his face.

“Mama. Look me in the face and tell me if I look like I care.” You begin to smile seeing how Miguel was starting to look genuinely mad at you for saying such a ridiculous thing.

“Now, I said sientate. I’m hungry.” He says sternly.

“You sureee? You really don't have to-”

“I don’t like repeating myself.” He commands. This man wasn’t playing any games. He was starving.

Your smile widens at his insistence. Your boyfriend was a real man.

Placing your hands on his hairy, thick body for support, you scoot your way up to his face, Miguel’s grin getting wider as your wet cunt comes into full view.

“So perfect for me, fuck,” His voice is sweet and tender now, planting a few equally tender kisses on your inner thighs, making sure to show them some love before you squeeze his head between them like a melon. “Te amo mucho, you know that, mama? Wanna make you feel good, beba.”

“Mhm,” You nod, biting your lip as the breath of his voice tickles your womanhood.

If Miguel could, he would just live in between your thighs just like this for all of eternity. His absolute favorite place in the whole world. “N' when I tell you to sit on my face, yo nunca quiero ir ese porqueria, understood?”

His stern tone made both your heart and pussy flutter. “Yessir.”

Your hands use the edge of the headboard as support, tentatively hovering your hips over his face as he showers your inner thighs with loving pecks and nibbles, the smack of his lips making your pussy clench again.

One of his big hands steadies your hips with a tight grip, the other moving your panties aside to reveal your unshaven lips.

“Prettiest pussy ever…. y todo es mio. Fuck, you’re so wet, mamita, did I do that?” He speaks mockingly.

You sigh when his lips kiss your clit, his tongue following shortly after by flicking it a couple times. You hear him grunt beneath you after having to lift his head off the bed to reach your hole.

"Baby, sit down. All of your body weight." He's short with his words. It sounds more like an order than a request.

"But Miguel-"

He breathes out, "You're really testing my patience, mama." And with that, his massive hands wrap firmly around your waist and pull you down, a yelp falling from your mouth as he feasts on your sensitive pussy.

Miguel is the definition of a munch. His head movement adds to the stimulation, moving it up and down, side to side; any effort to submerge his face deeper into your folds. His nose, the perfect size and shape that brushes against your clit while he simultaneously slurps and tongue fucks your cunt. The vibrations of his ‘Mmmph’s, the scruff of his face rubbing against your inner thighs, and softly pressing your clit between his tongue and front teeth were the cherry on top.

Your sounds are pornographic as he eats you out. When you're unable to sit up straight anymore due to the immense pleasure, you lean back, hands landing behind you on his soft pecs, pushing into them in an effort to get some kind of break, but Miguel wasn't having it. Plus, he was way stronger than you. There was no escaping him. A small part of you wondered how he was going so long without coming up for air, but you quickly answer your own question when you remember that your man loves to eat, and when he does, he’s like a starved man. Each time you pushed, his grasp only got stronger, but as much as you pushed, you truthfully didn't want him to stop. Ever.

"B-baby, baby… I- I- c-can't," you cry, unable to speak without stopping mid-sentence to let out a whine, "I'm so close, Daddy, don't stop, please, don't stop, don't stop!" You became a broken record, all sense leaving your body. The only thing on your mind was Miguel's mouth ravishing your weeping cunt. You sat forward again, now tugging on his hair, making him hum further and fueling his hunger. "Mmmph fuck! I won't mama, I won't, don't worry... I'll give you whatever you want," You began to literally ride his face, desperately chasing your climax with his hands slapping against your ass. Miguel was in heaven with this view, bucking his own hips into the air from how perfect you looked like this.

“Mmm… such a dirty fuckin’ girl you are,” smack, “wakin' me up like this… ay, que ricoooo, sabe tan dulce,” smack, “puta madre, Puedo vivir de este coño y nada más…” both his voice, an octave lower, and the wet, sucking sounds of his mouth helped uncoil the knot in your stomach, bursting on his handsome face.

Your hips stutter and your jaw falls open when you cum, Miguel drinking in your juices as if he’s been stranded on the Sahara for weeks. You could’ve split his skull into two, that’s how hard you pressed your thighs together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Miguel finally lets you go, allowing you to sit on his chest now, both of you catching your breaths. He smirks back up at you, and you roll your eyes, blushing. "awww, mi princesita gets all shy when I make her cum, eh?"

"Leave me aloooneeee." With Miguel’s big hands as support and guidance, he rolls over, so he’s still in between your legs, but you’re now the bottom, and him the top. With your legs now around his waist, He chuckles at you and goes to kiss your flushed cheeks.

Then he goes in for a sweet, romantic kiss on the lips. You feel safe and taken care of while feeling his body weight on you again, his soft tummy against yours and his big muscly arms wrapped securely around you. You can feel his cock twitch against your overstimulated cunt, completely soaked from his second climax from simply eating you out, no doubt. He moves any hair on your face aside, caressing your cheek when he does.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, princesita. Have I told you how much I love you?” He coos, pure adoration in his eyes.

You manage a soft, tired smile, “Every day. I love you, too.” you chuckle, “Oh! I made you breakfast! You must be hungry, baby…” you say, as you start getting up.

He gently stops you, and you lay back down.

“I am… but not for food.”

Safe to say the feast you prepared was cold by the time y’all got to the kitchen<3

Hope u liked it <3 It's a bit longer but I've been thinking alottttt about this tee hee!!!

This is a culmination of my thots and the thots of some of my hot moots, so Tysm @mybvalentine @gltzpzy for the ideas <3

Happy Valentine’s season, my loves!!! Wishing everyone not only a day but a whole new year of love. Not just romantic love, but also the love of your friends, family, and above all, the love for yourself <3

Speak to yourself kindly, treat your heart nicely, and consume all the chocolate!!!! You deserve ittt!!!

P.s. n if u don’t have a Valentine’s, I’ll happily be urs 🤭 MWAH!

- Cupcake xoxo

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

1K notes · View notes

couldeatthatgirlforlunch · 1 month

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I really loved your scenario of The Justice League AND The Ill reader,Lmao, poor reader they only need a rest.

Anyway, ever since I read the first part I was thinking about the kids, you know, the League Sidekicks, obviously The Reader knows them, due to work (I can really imagine Batman introducing His kids to the Reader to force a bond , And obviously The rest of The League does the same) So I had the headcanon that the reader really likes the children, they talk to them after missions, sometimes they buy them some gifts for their birthdays, they listen to them when they complain about their father figures (Therapist Reader), etc. But at the same time I can imagine The Reader being totally uncomfortable with his parents, so I can't help but think of a scenario in which The Reader is talking to the League kids in a good mood, but the League members walk in. to the room (They obviously saw the Happy Reader, so they want to gain some advantage) And The Reader just turns off, goes into business mode and is curt as always with the league, and when he finishes talking to the league, he goes back to talking to the children and their mood is happy again. Man I would love to see the league's reaction to the obvious reader favoritism

PD:I really love your work, you are amazing

Pd2:If The kids are yandere, ITS UP to you

A Week in Life: Take Your Kid to Work Day

Synopsis: A week in your life where you get a lot of new little friends, even if you know something’s sketchy about it.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Yanderes! Robin (Dick), Superboy (Konner), Miss Martian, Kid Flash (Wally) and Aqualad (Kaldur'ahm)

Tw: A single implication about Hal’s past dub/non con incidente (blink and you miss it); Implied emotional manipulation, I guess? Justice League using kids as a manipulation tactic; A little angst, I think we all hate how Superman treated Conner, so I added that, so technically not a healthy relationship between them here, could be interpreted as Superman manipulating him or Superboy trying too hard to make his bio-dad like him; The kid’s ages are definitely not accurate canon wise, but what is canon anyway? I mixed their personalities and origins from Young Justice (along with their age gap) and for Superboy it was mainly the animated movie Reign of the Supermen; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 3,3k

Requested? More than once.

Extra notes: Dick is 10, Kaldur'ahm, Conner, Megan and Wally are 13. I wish I knew more about the Wonder Girls to write about one of them, I felt bad for not adding them, but I would’ve felt worse writing for a character I have no idea how to write.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

— I wasn't aware that there was a Take Your Kid to Work Day on schedule... — You said in a surprised, maybe taken aback, tone, if not a little strangled and sarcastic, even if a little happy. You rubbed your forehead, you knew your hunch was right…

Monday…

You’ve heard the rumors Gotham media was spreading for months now, you even asked Batman if you should prepare the marketing team in case of an emergency, he denied everything.

So why was it that now you were staring at a 10 year old dressed as a traffic light?

— Miss/Mister/Mx (Y/N)... I’m hungry… — Worst of all? The kid was cute.

You smile in a friendly manner.

— Okay, okay. Just give me a second, buddy, I need to talk to your… Dad…?! — You just now realized you didn't know their actual relationship. Batman only told you his name was Robin, that he was his partner, and that he was in the watchtower to observe. You didn't know superheroes accepted 10 year old interns, but whatever. The kid just stared blankly at you, not giving an actual answer to if you got your assumption right.

— Can I go with you? — Robin fiddled with his fingers. So cute. You nodded with a small smile. The kid jumped off his too big chair and ran towards you, surprising you by taking your hand. He had small hands. So cute.

You walked slowly, to accommodate to his height, in the direction of the door to the briefing room, where Batman was talking to John Stewart. This other Green Lantern was a breath of fresh air. The other one (the one who shouldn't be named) was away, working on another district of the universe since that whole… Less-than-consensual situation. You were happy and surprised when the League didn't just brush it off, and even compensated you for it, alongside making him go away. He either agreed to that, or caused the 3rd World War against the Justice League. It was a temporary predicament, but happier nonetheless, since John wasn't obsessed with you, unlike the rest of them, and easy to work with.

You cleared your throat so they would turn to you.

— Does Robin have any restrictions? He said he's hungry so I'm gonna take him to the kitchen. — You said politely. Batman shook his head.

— Just don't give him sugar. He needs to sleep before patrol tonight. — You raised your eyebrows in surprise and nodded your head. Batman looked at the boy. — Behave, chum. — You blinked, Robin nodded solemnly.

As you walked in the direction of the kitchen, the kid showed to be very happy and talkative. You were surprised, considering who his dad was, but it warmed your heart. At least it seemed he wasn't mistreated.

At some point, he let your hand go and started cartwheeling and doing acrobatics all the way there to show off his abilities to you. You gasped and clapped, praising his talent along with other workers from the crew who were passing the hall. You were slightly worried that he would fall and get hurt, but the kid was really confident in what he was doing (but they always are, until they fall).

When you got there, you were impressed that he wasn't even the slightest out of breath.

— Do you have games on your phone? — He asked, sitting down on a table while you rummaged the fridge for some sandwiches or any healthy snack, since you didn't know how his home diet was, but guessing by his build, which was a lot more athletic than kids his age are, he was probably pretty healthy. Son of the Bat.

— Hmm, I have Dress to Impress, Pou and Candy Crush.

— What is Pou? — Your heart panged and you sighed, feeling old.

— When were you born? 2010? — You walked towards him and settled a plate with a sandwich in front of him, before pouring a cup of juice.

— 2014. — Your mouth dropped, speechless. — Wait, so not even Stardew Valley? — You cleared your throat and shook your head, sitting beside him, while he started eating.

— Wait, can I even let you play? Does Batman let you have screen time? — He nodded.

— I have a phone. I just couldn't bring it with me today… He said he would show me around the tower, but he got busy with work… — He deflated a little at the end of the sentence, your heart broke. — Anyway… He told me I could distract myself. I just need your permission. — You bite your lip.

— Okay. How about we go to the recreational room and you can play some videogames while I work from the computer. — Robin nodded eagerly.

— Damn, you can't even play with me? Working sucks. That must be why adults are so boring. — You took a napkin and cleaned some food from his cheek.

— It's not that bad… You can do whatever you want. — He perked up.

— I guess so… — He looked you up and down. You prepared yourself for one of those moments where kids are so blunt that they don't know they could offend someone. — But you're not boring, (Y/N), you're cool. Must be why daddy likes you so much. And he doesn't like no one.

Tuesday…

Wow, what a weird coincidence. Just yesterday Batman brought his kid, and now Martian Manhunter brought his niece.

Miss Martian looked older than Robin, but again, she was a martian, her appearance was shifted to whatever she wanted to look like. All you knew was that she was young and new on Earth.

Right now, she looked very human. She had freckles and auburn hair. The only thing that made her stand out was the green of her skin.

When she presented herself to you, you got startled by her voice in your head, but you and Martian Manhunter softly explained to her that on Earth people didn't communicate through their minds, and it was kinda like an invasion of privacy. Kinda funny hearing him say that, but whatever.

Like Batman the day prior, Martian trusted the girl in your hands. So many coincidences, right?!

— So, honey, how old are you?

— Oh, on my home planet I should be about 39. But converting to Earth years, I’m 13. — She said with a shy but friendly smile, you smiled back.

— You’re pretty young then. How are you settling on Earth? Planning to go to school maybe? — She nodded.

— I just started the school year… I wasn't too sure about that, but my uncle said it would be good to learn human behaviors. — You nodded.

— American school is nice, I recommend you should take part in clubs. And don't feel pressured to make a billion friends. It's better to have one good friend, instead of 10 people you know but can't rely on. — She nodded, biting her lip.

— I already know some of the other sidekicks, I just don't have any civilian friends… I was thinking about joining the cheerleading team. — You gasped, excited.

— Oh, that's really good! I always wanted to join, but was never the sporty type. You’re sweet, I think that already gives you some points. — Her green cheeks got darker.

— You think so?! — Her voice got louder with excitement.

— Of course! Now let me give you some tips about the jocks, honey…

Wednesday…

Today, Flash brought Kid Flash. You haven't met him until now. The sequence of days the older heroes brought in their sidekicks was starting to look weird… But not that weird. Batman said he would give Robin a tour but became unavailable. Manhunter wanted Miss Martian to meet civilian people and have a good role model — you don't know why he decided that that role model should be you, but it made sense, so… —. Flash Said they would spend the day using the lab to experiment some more on Kid Flash’s still recently acquired powers. So. Coincidences, right?

The boy was 13 too, he had messy red hair and green eyes. Flash didn't specify their relationship, but their personalities definitely matched a little. Both a little hyperiperactive and smiley. Although that could be more of a speedster thing, especially the first part.

Like promised, they spent half that day on the lab, occasionally calling you for snack breaks. However, at some point, Flash gave an excuse and left you with the kid.

Huh.

— Sooo, what do you do around here? — Kid Flash asked, spinning around in a chair he found somewhere and rolled to the middle of your office in the blink of an eye. You half-smiled. It was nice not being crowded by those weirdos and being around fresh and youthful people, but it was starting to feel weird.

— I plan schedule appointments, organize team meetings, prepare agendas and itineraries, book meals and travel arrangements, handle record keeping and documentation, and make sure a project stays on budget. — The ginger blinked and stopped spinning.

— Uhh, you went to college for that? — You blinked.

— I did, why? — He chuckled slightly.

— Nothing, it's cool, sounds boring, though. — You nodded.

— What do you want to work with? — He looked to the side, thoughtful for a moment.

— I think I want to be a scientist.

— Oh really?

— Yeah, I like physics, mechanics and a little bit of chemistry. — You smirked.

— Chemistry? Sounds boring. — Kidflash froze for a second, wide-eyed, then relaxed and started laughing loudly. His chuckling prompted you to chuckle alongside him.

He used his feet to push the chair around your table and stopped at your side.

— Hey, can I see how much people get paid here? If I'm gonna be a member of the League one day, might as well optimize time and just work here. — You slapped his hands away when he reached for your computer, he pouted.

— Wouldn't that make it difficult to keep your secret identity hidden?! — Kid Flash stretched his arm, then draped it across your shoulders, you lifted an eyebrow.

— Babe. I'm a superhero. I could change clothes really fast right now and you wouldn't even notice. — You scoffed and lightly pushed him and his chair away.

— A phone booth would be more appropriate for that.

— What's a phone booth?

Thursday…

Superman brought Superboy.

Why the fuck are they doing that, bro?

You didn't even know they were close! Sure, Superboy is Superman and Lex Luthor’s clone, the whole world knew that, and that Superboy took to Superman's side. But they were never seen together, unlike Flash and Kid Flash, or Batman and Robin, for example.

Worst of all? It looked like the mood between them was… Weary. Especially on Superman’s part. Did he not trust Superboy? You could understand that… But look at his puppy sad face!

And not even five minutes later, Superman just flew away, saying something about a hurricane in Texas, AND SUPERBOY STAYED!

The silence was awkward for a few seconds. You thought back to the personality he showed when he was first announced by LexCorp, when Superman was considered dead. He was all over the media (Lex’s marketing team was good) with his charisma and flirty personality. Although he kept the leather jacket, his quietness surprised you.

You cleared your throat.

Superman brought Superboy.

Why the fuck are they doing that, bro?

Worst of all? It looked like the mood between them was… Weary. Especially on Superman’s part. Did he not trust Superboy? You could understand that… But look at his puppy sad face!

And not even five minutes later, Superman just flew away, saying something about a hurricane in Texas, AND SUPERBOY STAYED!

You cleared your throat.

— So… Are you hungry? Wanna play videogames? — You grimaced slightly. He looked at you again, a little hesitant.

— Uh… I think so? — He blinked. — You guys have videogames here?! — He exclaimed, surprised. You chuckled.

— Oh yeah, for such a serious and stern guy, Batman really invested in the work environment. — You chuckled together, walking towards the recreational area.

You were curious about the earlier weird vibe, but didn't want to prod.

At first, you just let the boy play by himself, just sitting beside him and working while talking, that was until he paused the game between missions and stretched, then looked at you.

— Are you guys involved? — You looked at him with your eyebrows raised.

— You guys…? — He pursed his lips.

— You and Superman. — You grimaced slightly.

— Oh no, he's my boss, and not my type at all. — He nodded, looking pensive.

— He likes you. — You kept a blank expression, waiting for him to continue. — I like you too, so I can imagine why he likes you. — You stared at him, exasperated. He widened his eyes. — Not like that! — He raised his hands to deny. — It's just- I feel comfortable with you. I felt comfortable with some of his friends before, I didn't even know why, but I think it's because half of me is from him. Like I have some things from Lex since I was… Born… — He looked to the ground for a second, pouting lightly. — That's why Superman doesn't like me. — You widened your eyes.

— I'm sure he likes you! — Superboy looked at you like he didn't believe you.

— No, it's okay… He's polite, I guess. And took me in as his family, just not… As his son… More like a brother, or… A cousin… I mean, I can understand, I'm basically a hate baby, created by his biggest enemy to outdo and destroy him… — You shook your head.

You didn't know what to say, since you didn't know how their dynamic was like.

— H-He brought you here to spend time with you, didn't he? He just had an emergency to take care of… — He looked to the ground and then at you again. He didn't have the heart to tell you that's the first time they ever “hung out”, and that his genius brain clocked hours ago that Superman's plan was to create a connection between you both by orchestrating a connection with you and him. He also didn't want to bad mouth Clark. A part of him always would have hope that Superman would want to be closer to him one day.

Superboy looked at the clock and then at you.

— Don't you have a break? I can hear your stomach, I'm hungry too.

Friday…

This madness has to stop now.

— Nice to meet you, Aqualad. — You nodded at the boy with a small smile. You were a little mesmerized by his exotic appearance. He had brown skin, blonde hair in braids (where are his roots?) and blue eyes. His arms were also covered in tattoos that you knew had something to do with his abilities.

— I was showing him around the Watchtower, but now I have a meeting with Wonder Woman, why don't you two hang out for a while? — Aquaman, always the most obnoxious one. Their intentions were 100% clear now.

Aquaman didn't let you say anything else and left the room with said hero. You heard her murmur something about having to find her own apprentice to bring to the watchtower as soon as possible.

You looked at the boy, not knowing what to say.

— Have you ever been to Atlantis? — He surprised you by speaking first, his tone was gentle, if not a little monotonous, but he looked at you with interest.

— Uhhh, no? I’m not that good of a swimmer and I can't breathe underwater. — Aqualad smirked lightly.

— You wouldn't need to worry about breathing, there are multiple ways for humans to do that, from magic to technology. As for swimming… I'm sure we can find some sort of solution for that, also. And I doubt my king would be opposed to the idea of teaching you. — You nodded slowly. So much for subtly.

— … My vitamin D is low enough as it is, I’d rather stay on land, no offense. — The atlantean opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. — Aqualad! Do you like the food here? I've always been curious about your culture’s cuisine…

You kept talking for hours, eventually, Aqualad and you ended up in the training room, he offered to show you a little of his control over water bodies, and you, still a little fascinated over the convivence with superheroes, and this being the second time you met someone from Atlantis, accepted eagerly.

— This is just like H2O… — Kauldur’ahm blinked.

— It is water… — The boy confirmed, hesitantly. You laughed.

— No, no, not water. It's a TV show, it's about mermaids. I guess it isn't exactly accurate, but they can control water, just like you! — He nodded, slowly, contemplating. You looked at your watch, noticing your lunch time was due. You looked at him, shyly. — If you're up for it, we could watch it now… — That seemed to make him perk up a little and he nodded quickly.

— I would like to.

Monday…

There they were, in the meeting room, all seated around the big roundtable, almost double the number of people who usually sit there.

Now, the food order they made, made sense.

You pushed the food cart forward, one for Flash. You came back and pushed another one, this one for Kid Flash, you ruffled his hair. Then, you walked back and pushed the 3rd food cart around the table, delivering each meal for each hero.

— Steak for Green Lantern. One black coffee for Batman. One meat sandwich and chocolate milk for Robin. — You squeezed his cheek. He smiled brightly at you. — Toast for Martian Manhunter and a slice of strawberry cake for Missy Miss Martian. — As you put the plate in front of her, you whispered that you wanted to know how the cheerleading team was going. She nodded happily. — A burger with fries for Aquaman, a smoothie and salad for Aqualad. Oh, did you change your hair? I like it! — You smiled brightly at the boy and his cheeks burned, he nodded. — Ice cream for Wonder Woman. Another burger and fries for Superman and another for Superboy. I see you followed my advice, your style really matches with those piercings. Tell me how you did it later. — You laughed carelessly and went to the door. — Need me for something more? — Your bosses shook their heads, stunned. You left and closed the door.

— Can't believe you guys actually did it… — John shook his head, disappointed at his teammates.

— I knew it would work. — Batman said, sipping from his drink.

— That's why we stole your idea when we knew about it. — Aquaman chuckled.

— I really need to find a sidekick. — Diana huffed.

Batman turned to Robin.

— You did a good job, chum. — Dick chuckled.

— Yeah, I even asked for a sandwich without the crust. Now (Y/N) think I'm the cutest here. — He smirked smugly. Wally scoffed.

— Yeah, right. She totally doesn't think you're an annoying kid. — The duo stared at each other. — I, for example, made them laugh. — The redhead puffed his chest proudly.

— Are you sure it wasn’t a pity laugh?! — Superboy snorted at Robin’s retort.

— Although Robin might be physically more adorable, and Kid Flash, in his words, made them laugh. (Y/N) and I started a TV show together, my king. — Aquaman nodded at his apprentice’s words.

— You did a good job.

— But (Y/N) actually said they wanted to talk to me later! That usually oficializes human’s friendships! — Megan said, softly.

— They said the same to me, the other day. That I could talk to them whenever I wanted… — Superman looked at Superboy, surprised. He felt awkward praising him, so he just nodded his head and looked away. Superboy pouted slightly.

— Because you told them your sob story, now they think you're a loser. — Conner glared at Dick. — Their physical language showed that they loved me, B! I honestly deserve an Oscar after that performance! They're gonna be ours before you suckers know it!

As a screaming match raised inside the room, the adult heroes looked at each other, lost for words, not only had the kids gotten you roped a bazillion times faster then they could ever dream, but also you were so amazing that they were enamored with you too.

Comment, like and reblog 🥰

DC taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant

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richiehugs · 7 months

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Fallen angel - part 1

Angel was a chubby child. As teenagehood hit him, however, he got into wrestling and weight-lifting. He grew up to be a tall, handsome, and - more importantly - shredded young adult. As he grew taller and stronger, he thought he should move up a weight class or two - and so the bulk began.

In just a couple of months, he started losing his rock hard abs, which he achieved by countless hours at the gym and a strict diet. But he knew he was ought to be more. It was a just a bulk. How hard could it be to lose the fat again?

As the weight piled on, he got suggested to use his new power at another kind of wrestling - sumo. Why not? He was already at the end of his bulk, it was only logical to end the story with a gold medal. So he participated at the next championship.

He was just heavy enough for heavyweight class. Although he won his first two matches against opponents 30-40 kilos heavier than him, he didn't make it to the finals. At least he tried this sumo sport out.

He would never compete again in sumo, but he kept his gym addiction and wrestling hobby the next years on. The bulk, however, never seemed to go away.

He got fat. He was tall, over 190 cm, so the 120 kg weight he was carrying was barely visible. He was incredibly muscular, too, so a little fat couldn't hurt.

He went from one relationship to another, until he finally met Ana. It was love at first sight. Ana, though a short woman, she never cared much about a couple extra pounds on a man, she even found it attractive. Angel was big, strong, the perfect father figure.

Angel was happy he had a supportive girlfriend, who was also a great chef. He noticed soon that his XL shirts started to get snug, but he was still wrestling, so the weight was under control. The weight was also great for cuddles in bed, so it was rather a win-win.

But then the pandemic happened.

During the Summer of 2020, Angel has gained a significant amount of weight. It wasn't a small bulk anymore. He couldn't find excuses, such as "going to the gym", "working hard", "it will go away" - he got obese. As gyms closed and he was stuck at home, his appetite didn't go away, only grew. With every takeaway his figure rounded out more and more.

At the end of the year, he looked like he ate his teenage self. A thick sphere of soft, jiggly lard has covered his abs and pecs. His moobs and belly were fighting hard against the fabric of every single shirt of his. He even moved up two sizes - just to almost grow out his 3XLs, too. He was close to 150 kilos - a big milestone in the life of a man.

There was no hiding it anymore. And he was yet to attend a wedding...

This is part one of the story of Angel.

I won't share his real name or any personal information about him. Please, don't reuse the content anywhere.

#weight gain #fat bhm #bhm weight gain #weight gain story #obese #exjock #wrestler weight gain #sumo #balkan fatty

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 months

Text

Yandere Hitman // Accident

Imagine you wake up tied to a chair ducktape over your mouth and the weight of gravity weighing on your chest. Finally gaining your bearings you realize you are haphazardly hanging from a rickety-looking bridge above a raging river by a man in a black compression shirt a bored look on his face and a phone to his ear. You don’t try to struggle only watching wide-eyed as you hope this Hitman doesn’t drop you

“Really…the wrong one? Fine, I’ll figure it out.”

Breathing is so much easier when he pulls you from the edge with one hand by the way. He doesn’t untie you sighing exasperatedly while running a hand through his hair. Finally, he takes the ducktape off your mouth waving off your barrage of questions.

“Look things happened and I was supposed to kill someone who looks a lot like you but not.”

“So you're a hitman and you made a mistake?”

“Yup.”

“Are you going to kill me for knowing you then?”

“I don’t have to.”

“Then can I go home?”

“Er no.”

“Because I’m going to talk?”

“No more like you wouldn’t be able to get into the country anyway.”

Turns out the hitman who happened to target you was incredibly too thorough and ended up burning your ID, crafting up a reasonable missing persons case for you, and making it hard for you to do anything in the country that you can’t properly even find on a map. So to combat the absolute mess of having to go through all the legalese and interrogation you’d go through to get back to your life he comes up with his solution.

“How about you just stay with me? I’ve got more than enough room.”

And he does. It's a place that’s like a small castle, he reasons it’s best that you just help clean the place and maybe make a meal or two. You accept not that you had any other choice at this point so he’ll untie you and take you there. Wherever this backwater country is he’s got a home filled with villagers who are happy to care for it. And in a language you don’t recognize they celebrate it when he brings you home, cheering and excitedly holding your hands. He can’t help but laugh at you while you try to figure things out.

“Hey! What was she saying before?”

“You really shouldn’t just blindly nod to what people are saying. That’s what gets you in trouble.”

“What else am I supposed to do?! She was smiling so wide it must’ve been something nice, right?”

“Hahaha, you're hopelessly adorable.”

When this Hitman is not sitting around laughing at you or mistranslating your requests, he’s not so bad. As the only one who understands what you’re saying and can actually respond to you in a rewarding way. Dismissing that he ruined your everyday life, he’s decent company usually smirking to himself while he makes fun of whatever you're doing.

“That hat is way too big for you and so are your clothes. It’s kinda cute.”

“It’s not cute! For whatever reason nobody will give me anything other than your clothes it’s really inconvenient.”

“How do you know they're mine?”

“Because they smell like–”

“Awwww are you smelling me in your free time (Y/n)?”

“NO! Wait it’s just an observation—”

“Ewww so perverted (Y/n)~”

When he’s not around to mess with you, he’s off to work. Wearing those same tight-fitted pants he did when you first woke up. It’s…a little sad sometimes. He is the only one you can easily communicate with but you manage to enjoy the thousands of books he has in his home, hang out with the kittens of the farm, and slowly but surely get a grasp on the language all the villagers speak. Maybe one day you can surprise him by being able to call him out the next time he tries to humiliate you to the villagers. It certainly keeps you occupied from thinking about going home anytime soon.

“That’s another body in the ground. Where’s my money?”

The hitman once again casually dismembers another target for his client, taking a quick picture before hurrying to the store. You did say you were a fan of a certain gaming system, he’s got more than enough to spend now that he’s completed another job. Not that he really needed to that amount he had could very well pay for the entire lives of generations to come. That is if he hasn’t budgeted for a luxurious life with you.

“Mmm, which one should I get? Hmm?”

“Oh, are you interested in some of our AAA titles?”

“Not for me but for my partner….I’m just worried they’ll leave me and our kids out while playing.”

“Well if you like we have some lighthearted multiplayer games.”

“That’s perfect!”

He does plan as though you already have kids. He doesn’t need to know if you two will conceive with him or adopt but it doesn’t matter it’s happening. Because to him, you two are already bound to be happily married—all according to his plan. He’s just glad it’s going off so far without a hitch.

“Hi I’m back!”

“Welcome welcome hope everything went well for you chief!”

“How are their studies coming?”

“Decent but they’ll never fully be able to grasp the codes, just as you planned.”

“Perfect. (Y/n) they’re saying you should be the one to massage me this time.”

“What?! There is no way they said that.”

Your hitman’s greatest power is his nonchalant attitude. It’s what allows you to accept that it was his carelessness that led to you being targeted in the first place. It’s what have you not looking twice when ‘the villager’ demands you both feed each other. It might take a while before you fully become the you–he envisioned in his plans but he can wait.

After all your hitman’s waited this long. He doesn’t mind waiting a little more.

“Don’t think too much and let’s just let fate that I’ve chosen decide.”

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twstgarden · 2 months

Text

❀ ❝ 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 ❞

━ post-ob! malleus draconia x gn! reader ━ after the events during lilia's farewell party, you found yourself concerned over your lover's wellbeing and decided to pay him a visit for comfort. (f/n means first name)

requested by: @starlitsky3600 request type: scenario / one shot requester’s message: For the requests can I request some post ob mal comfort with reader? Maybe helping him treat his wounds? florist’s note: i have no idea if I wrote this well or if this was what you requested, but here you go! thank you for the mallie request <3

this work contains spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me, commissions are open

the events that took place during lilia’s farewell party never left the minds of every other student in the academy – you included. late at night, you find yourself wondering if there was anything you could have done to ease the loneliness that malleus felt. Yet, you also felt relieved that you were there to assist idia and the others in gaining back malleus’ senses and snapping out of his overblot phase.

he was your friend, sure. you can call him that. it was hard to deny that there was something unspoken between you two – the nights you spent talking to him and taking strolls in the garden, the days you’d go out of your way to invite him for lunch or breakfast at the cafeteria, and afternoons where you’d exchange letters talking about your day as if you had never seen each other hours prior.

a friend – is that what you’d call him? he knew you like the back of his hand, and yet you wished you could say the same. you knew his intimate details, home life, and secret desires that he never shared with anyone else, yet you feel as if there is still so much left to know about him.

and the day of the farewell party confirmed it.

now that the events had passed, you could not help but want to see him. it was late, and you were sure he was taking a rest, but you could not ease the thoughts of wanting to be with him after the events took place.

what is he doing? how is he feeling? is he alright?

those questions ran through your mind as you got out of bed and walked your way to the mirror chamber, passing through diasomnia’s mirror as you entered the dormitory and knocked on his bedroom door. it was silent for a moment until a soft ‘click’ was heard, unlocking the door as his eyes met yours in a pained and tired stare.

“…f/n?”

“…may I come in?”

without another word, he simply opened the door wide enough to allow you entry. once you two were all alone in the four walls of his chamber, you looked up at him and spoke gently, “are you alright?” your gentle tone eased him for a moment and all he could muster up in reply was a simple nod. pulling him in, you sat on his bed and wrapped your arms around him in hopes that your embrace could comfort him.

he did not say anything in response as he allowed himself to be spoiled by your affection. was he selfish for wanting you to stay? perhaps or perhaps not. he just wanted all those he loved to stay – to be happy and healthy. why was it so wrong for him to have that wish?

love drives you mad, is what he heard you say once during your bonding moments in the garden. the heart-to-heart talk you had that night opened secrets that were kept hidden for years. his struggles and your own were acknowledged by both, and he can’t help but feel as if he wanted to shield you, protect you and keep you safe and sound.

the aftermath of the incident made him think you saw him in a different light, that you wanted nothing to do with him anymore and wished to cut ties with him, and yet, here you are on his bed, arms wrapped around his taller figure as you placed gentle kisses on his forehead.

friend? no, he wasn’t just a friend. he was your lover, but no one else knew that except for his family – lilia, silver, and sebek.

sinking into your embrace, a soft sniffle could be heard from him as you frowned and hugged him tighter, “hey… let it out… if you want to cry, i’m here…” your gentle words brought a sense of comfort with a hint of sadness – enough to make him want to cry and let out the tears he was holding back.

“i had assumed you were cross with me…” muttered malleus.

“me? angry? perhaps a little, but i am not the kind to leave you on your alone when you clearly need my company…” you replied, cupping his cheeks, “you could have told me how you felt that night instead of storming off…”

“…i’m sorry,” replied malleus.

a soft sigh escaped your lips as you kissed his cheek, “you don’t have to apologise… i’m always here for you, remember that.”

“always…?”

you went quiet as he repeated your clause, avoiding his gaze for a moment as you tried not to touch upon the fact that your delicate lifespan could not compare to his. “…we talked about this, dear…” you whispered as you hugged him close.

“i know…” responded malleus, “which is why i did that in the first place…”

you did not know what to say in response, so you let out a soft sigh as you pulled away from the embrace and lifted his sleeves, eyeing his wounds as he tried to cover it. “stay still,” you reprimanded as he grunted softly and did as you say.

you then got out of bed and searched for a cotton ball and some alcohol to help clean his wounds. as soon as you got the things you needed, you sat back beside him and started patching up his wounds. he hissed softly as you dabbed the alcohol-absorbed cotton ball, “that hurts.”

“stay still or this will take longer, love,” you spoke, “you can’t heal this by yourself with your magic due to your exhausted state.”

he didn’t retort back. he knew you’d argue with him when it comes to his wellbeing and safety, so he sat there and took the stinging sensation with a hiss. once you were done, you patched up his wounds and cleaned up the area before checking on his arms.

“you really did not have to…” spoke malleus.

“nonsense. i want to make sure you sleep properly tonight with your wounds patched,” you replied, “does it hurt anywhere else?”

malleus shook his head before wrapping his arms around you, “no, the stinging sensation is no longer as unbearable as it was earlier.” you then hummed in response as you hugged him back while he continued, “…thank you.”

“of course…”

it was quiet for a while – comforting and peaceful. you held him in your arms while he hugged you close, taking comfort in your presence and embrace as he buried his face into your hair and took a whiff of your scent.

“can you please stay here… even for–” trailed malleus, but before he could complete his question, you replied.

“sure.”

‘i’ll stay here for as long as you want, my darling.’

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onesidedradiostatic · 7 months

Note

aromantic alastor headcanons for aro-week (with some ace in there as well, because I think for alastor those things are so entwined, it's hard to separate them):

tried going out with girls a couple of times when he was alive, to make his mother happy, but always found a way to extricate himself from the attachment. this ties into his learning how to have complete control over any situation he's in

I wonder as well about whether or not he "passed" as white, or whether his community knew that he was creole, and how that affected his dating opportunities, and his paranoia, his need to be in control, basically his constant hyper-vigilance

got a lot of fanmail for his radio host work, women (and men, but more furtively) loooved his voice. this was acceptable, because (apart from some of the weirder ones) he could use this as a metric for how accepted he was in society, as well as how well he was passing -- both in terms of race and orientation, but also youknow, as someone who is definitely not clockable as a serial killer

although of course we know he also enjoyed company. he'd go out drinking and dancing a lot. was mimzy a bit in love with him? I just like the idea that people kept being incredibly taken with his charm and his politeness and his poise, because he does have all those traits. whether he notices...? (no). I mention this point not so much as headcanon, I just like that alastor as aroace and repulsed on both of those points, was never a shut-in about it. he's always been very lively (ha) and outgoing, and clearly likes being in the company of others... but maybe that last point has gotten to be a little difficult during his time in hell, due to having to be so careful about showing any kind of emotional "weakness." speaking of...

post-death became a more extreme version of himself -- that is, a man on a mission to be in control and create emotional distance between himself and others through the power of voice, rather than having to faff about pretending emotional connections where there were none. very suited for hell because of his precarious political lived reality whilst alive, and because hell is built on who has power and who doesn't. these are rituals he understands better than the strange romantic ones during life

the smile as mask and unhealthy coping mechanism -- wonder if when he was alive people swooned over his having a lovely smile (as well as its being useful to placate and to disorient people who had more violent intentions, and in both cases potentially to lure in victims). so the smile likewise became the most extreme version of itself. the smile in essence as the signifier of someone who doesn't fit into any boxes and needs to hide that fact, both by being mixed race and aroace, but then the smile itself becomes something that effectively owns him, because he literally cannot let it drop, ever (honestly if alastor ever stops smiling, it'll be the biggest gasp moment on this show)

all that being said, surprising connections do occur: rosie, I think, sees through him from the beginning, and she's so disarming (ha, disarming... cannibal joke) that she never feels like a threat + they're both cannibals, so there's a relaxed kinship there and maybe she reminds him of the parts of home he (secretly) misses a bit

I wonder how rosie figured out that alastor wasn't into dating. I think at first she might have thought he was gay, but then quite quickly seen that that's not it, he doesn't even like men much, and she feels like she's been around the block enough to piece together peoples' natures from one of a million other people she's known, so way before she knows the terminology, she knows, and crucially, she never judges or tries to force the point

I wonder how vox and alastor met -- whether vox was able to gain power on his own and this attracted alastor's attention, or if alastor saw something of himself (that turned out to be surface level) in vox, that is, they both wear smiles as masks, they're both presenters, their mediums may be different, but their aims feel similar. perhaps alastor was comfortable enough in hell at this point -- probably in a way he never was whilst alive -- that he was feeling magnanimous towards what must have felt a bit like an upstart. and most importantly, the constraints of alloromantic ideas are a comfortable 20 years in the past by now, alastor can barely remember that this was ever anything that was expected of him, or that others' could possibly feel about him

cue vox falling head over heels, the way people so often did while he was alive, and he... does not notice at all (barely a headcanon). I kind of feel like I don't have much to say on these two, because this blog is already a treasure trove of vox and alastor hcs!

I think rosie is the only one who knows alastor is aroace, although... maybe husk? not in so many words, but he knows alastor isn't interested in those things. nifty Does Not Notice Nor Care (in a good way). charlie i will forever think will at some point do a deep-dive on modern queer lingo and get everyone flags (this is practically word of god canon considering that older piece of art you shared). vox definitely doesn't know. val....... sort of kinda knows but in an evil way. vaggie does not care, but she'd be chill about it. mimzy... I don't think knows, mainly because she never cared to think about his behaviours, as someone who's quite self-centered on what alastor is to her. jeez, who am i missing... angel, does not know, head empty

speaking of angel, I think if he ever found out, especially with where he's at in his journey rn, would be very unhappy in some way about having stepped over his boundaries so often so casually at the beginning. dunno how he'd act about it, but i like the idea of vigilantly (and crudely, and bluntly) supportive angel if they ever manage to get alastor out on the town. more on the ace side of things but i can see him going: "do not try to fuck this guy! this guy is unfuckable!"

(i like hypersexual and deeply romantic angel + sex and romance repulsed alastor as unlikely friendship in my head. opposites finding common ground type stuff is always good)

at the end of the day, alastor living and dying in an amatonormative world and having to orient himself within that by building walls that persist/worsen after his death because of the culture of hell being predicated on who controls whom, veeeeery slowly discovering that he can be vulnerable on his own terms without people demanding things from him that he cannot give (smthinsmthin the hotel gang as the opposite of vox in that sense -- not only that sense, but also that)

also something about imagining his mother hoping he'd find a nice girl and settle down (in the way parents often do, because that's the metric of happiness right.....) and how he never could give her what she wanted, and maybe feels some very locked away guilt about that, which he thinks he'll never be able to deal with because his mother is in heaven, but perhaps in this story she'll get to see what he's built with the people at the hotel and that's really all she wanted for him in the end

OH MY GOD ANON THIS IS ALL SO GOOD?? THANK YOU SO MUCH HAHAHA. happy aro week everyone!! (x2)

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tiredfox64 · 4 months

Note

BI HAN X FEM FIGURE SKATER READER?? I man cold man..reader who's constantly in the cold come onnn

History Maker

Prior notes: Of course I see it, I THOUGHT OF IT BEFORE! Also no one call me out on the title.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Figure Skater! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: I’m holding onto the edge I can’t skate

Liu Kang has gained all his champions, you being one of them. You would have never guessed that your ice skating skills made you a potential fighter. Your flexibility, the ability to stay stable and balanced, strong legs, and grace were all aspects of a great fighter. Liu Kang has made no mistake. You might doubt yourself but he sees potential in you. You just need the right mentor.

That’s why Liu Kang unexpectedly dropped in to see Bi-Han and ask him to be your mentor. Bi-Han questioned why he didn’t send you to the Wu Shi Academy with everyone else. The answer is simple, Artika is a better environment for you. Liu Kang has already allowed you to mess around in the area. Bi-Han was not happy with Liu Kang making a decision without consulting him. He got up and told the fire god to show him where you were.

It didn’t take long for them to find you. They followed the music that was coming from the frozen lake. Bi-Han makes his way toward you with annoyance before turning into curiosity.

You moved so gracefully on the thick ice. Your skates left marks on the frozen lake and left bits of shaved ice behind. It was surprising to see you weren’t wearing extra layers. All you had on was a long-sleeved shirt, bootcut pants, and mittens. Gotta keep yourself from getting hypothermia. You started sliding backward on the ice without even looking. You took a deep breath before launching yourself into the air. You spun quickly. One revolution, two revolution, three revolution, four revolution! Four revolutions before you landed on the opposite foot. You kept moving on like you didn’t do a lutz jump. A jump that many would cheat at. Not you, because you’re that good. So good that you caught the eye of the Lin Kuei’s grandmaster.

The cherry on top was when you finished off your routine by doing a camel spin. You lifted your left leg to make a perfect 90-degree angle as you spun on the other leg. You looked so graceful, you were unlike anything Bi-Han had seen. You lowered your leg and brought yourself to a stop. You noticed Liu Kang was nearby watching you with a proud smile on his face. Bi-Han was next to him, staring in awe but it was hard to tell since his eyebrows were still furrowed. You skated up to Liu Kang and asked who Bi-Han was.

“This is the Lin Kuei’s grandmaster, Bi-Han. I was hoping he would mentor you if he so desires.” Liu Kang looked at Bi-Han for confirmation. After what he saw he already made a decision.

“She has potential. It is clear to me that she will fit right in.”

His stance on you changed pretty quickly. He would have refused to deal with you if he didn’t see your wonderful display of skills. But now that he has seen, he can’t let you go.

You were fine with working with him. You just had one condition. You wanted to use the lake whenever you wanted so you could keep skating.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Your time with the Lin Kuei was beneficial. Actually your time was mostly spent with Bi-Han.

The environment was perfect for you. A frozen lake that you could use every day to practice skating. The ice was so thick you never feared falling through. Even if there was a risk, Bi-Han was always there to watch you. He enjoyed watching every special jump or spin you could do. Not only was it impressive but it was majestic. That doesn’t distract him from the fact that he is supposed to be training you.

One of your strengths, as he pointed out through observations, was your flexibility. You could make a straight line with your legs while standing on one foot. You could do a split with no struggle. You could almost make your foot touch your head while standing on one leg. That one is his favorite stretch since it allows him to get close. He liked to “check your form” which meant he’d come up to place a hand on your waist and your thigh. You might have felt him squeeze your thigh once or twice but you weren’t sure. You were more focused on keeping your balance.

You two were very compatible, not much of a shock there. It was a deadly duo that consisted of ice. He can control ice; you can control yourself on ice. A clever trick you guys could perform is when Bi-Han made a path of ice that you can skate on quickly before kicking your opponent at the last second. It catches everyone off guard with how fast you came towards them. It was fun to do, you can’t lie about that.

It became a habit for you two to take walks. You would skate on the ice while he would walk around the lake’s edge. Some of those walks would be quiet, other times you would go on about how you have improved both in skating and fighting. Once in a while when you were close to him he would take your hand and make you do a spin. The first time he ever did that to you, you tried your hardest to stop yourself from giggling. It was romantic you can’t act like he didn’t charm you in that moment. He liked getting a look an all-around look at you.

There was nothing that Bi-Han wanted more than to have you for himself. There was no other woman in his life that had drawn him in like you had. The compatibility when it came to fighting already made him see you as a worthy partner. Ever since the first time he laid eyes upon you, he wanted you. Your beauty and grace were that of a swan’s, but you had the strength and control of a warrior. You were also someone who didn’t pull away from his touch. Not a flinch or a shiver. You acted as if his body wasn’t cold. To you he never was. You never felt like his personality was cold either since he treated you better than everyone else.

The tournament was soon, meaning you wouldn’t need training anymore. It would be nice to return home once the tournament was over but at the same time, you didn’t want to leave. You adjusted to Artika quickly. You fell for Bi-Han quickly. You didn’t want to leave this all behind. Neither did Bi-Han. Perhaps it’s best to establish a relationship now before it’s too late.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You were on your usual walk, him walking at the side while you skated on the lake. You were in your usual spunky mood. You were spinning and giggling as you glided. It didn’t show on Bi-Han’s face but he was thoroughly enjoying you enjoyment.

“I never asked you before, but is there anyone waiting for you back home?” He asked.

“Just my family. But they rarely see me anyways, so this doesn’t make a huge difference.” You replied.

“There is no one back home that is lucky to have you for themselves?”

You knew what he meant by that. He was asking if you were dating anyone. You grew excited by this, in hopes of him wanting to ask you out.

“Nope, no one is lucky. Why do you ask?” You spun around with a smile on your face as you waited for Bi-Han’s answer.

“No reason.” He replied bluntly.

He kept walking before taking your hand into his. He spun you around to face forward again. You thought you made the wrong assumption until you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders. He never let go of your hand. He doesn’t want to let go.

Bi-Han’s not gonna ask you out in the usual way. This is his way of asking you out and making you his girlfriend. His hands are on you, that’s enough to prove that you are his. That move he just pulled was weirdly smooth and slick like ice. Don’t expect less from him. Just appreciate that he did this for you. For his new, special, gorgeous, and talented girlfriend.

After notes: You know I started this and then I didn't know what I was doing. I added the audio cause I felt like it worked idk you don’t have to work with that. I'm hoping I made some sense. If I didn't...damn. Adiós!

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sanospet · 4 months

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✩ CHASE ✩

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - yandere!𝘚𝘏𝘐𝘎𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘒𝘐 𝘛𝘖𝘔𝘜𝘙𝘈 𝘟 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙

𝘲𝘶𝘰𝘵𝘦 : his words were sharp, jagged, barbed, piercing into your misshapenly taped together soul, something you’d worked so hard to mend and heal during your time alone, yet it shattered all too easily once more, it’s dust slipping through your fingers.

“i’m the only one you’ve got left,” he prodded, “and you need me.”

warnings and notes!

stalker tomura . literal chasing lol . toxic relationship . quirkless au . usage of pet names (“kid) . reader has relationship trauma . isolated reader . tomura being really mean . dacryphilia is you squint REALLY hard, lol . naïve (kinda) reader . short argument . gender neutral reader . readers pronouns/sex/gender aren’t mentioned . proofread but there still may be some spelling mistakes, enjoy <33

authors note:

is this mayhaps also inspired by “chxse - whatsaheart” … yes, also by “if it ain’t me - whatsaheart” but only slightly, i wanna make a dedicated fic for that song, lol. sorry, his music has got a chokehold on me rn and it inspires so many tomura fics…i have so many concepts in my drafts right now, you have nooo idea, lol. anyway, this is kinda a similar tomura to my “kryptonite” fic, except he’s quirkless here, that’s all, lol. there may be an influx of tomura fics because i am in love with that man beyond belief so ummm…yeah, hope you enjoy the fic though, thanks for reading, and happy prideeeee!!! mwuah <33

a heavy layer of mist hung in place of the clouds, the moonlight failing to pierce through it, wind unwelcoming and cold against your warm skin.

yet a light golden glow of comfort nestled in your chest as the night replayed in your fuzzy mind.

the soft laughter that flowed through the bar you’d spent countless hours at, time gliding by as you met up with some new friends, sharing stories and jokes over drinks. the relentless need to glance over your shoulder dissipating throughout the night, finally allowing yourself to unwind, relax and have fun.

the melody flowing through your headphones kept you in high spirits, a gentle, tired smile stretching across your lips as you walked home.

though, as you continued on, despite your mind pleading for you to stop overthinking, your gut told you otherwise, that strong urge to have a peek behind you as unease settled in, took over, and you did.

neck snapping sharply in the direction, you came to a halt, fingers lowering the volume of your music with a click click click, taking a headphone out just to be sure.

the street was docile, deserted, filled with nothing but the quiet whirring of the tall street lamps lazily illuminating the parked cars and cracked pavement.

a shaky breath slipped past your lips as your eyes finished scanning your surroundings at a rapid pace, lingering just beyond the horizon before finally turning to continue on.

nothing was there, yet the suspicion remained, regardless of how silly your mind made you feel for it.

hands clenched into tight fists, balled at your sides, your heartbeat rose and you couldn’t shake the feeling of a pair of eyes…a sharp, venomous gaze searing through you.

a feeling you knew all too well, you were sure of it.

hot, acidic bile threatened to climb up, core burning as you could almost…hear them.

the footsteps trailing behind you, and your confirmation was in them growing heavier and heavier as they neared.

willing yourself to gain speed, your adrenaline filled body was forced into motion, gazing back for just a moment to reveal a shadowy figure that was hot on your heels, your body moving into a sprint as a result.

the wind almost cut your skin as you ran against it, the sudden gasp you let in setting a fire in your lungs, mind frantically searching for the best solution on how to lose them, going home now out of the question.

your legs gained a mind of their own as they pulled you forward with each lunge they took, earning you enough distance from the person to evade them with your next turn.

it was a tight space, an alleyway sandwiched between two tall buildings,

running down it slightly, soon coming to a stop, wind being knocked out of you at the sight before you, your heart sank to the depths of your stomach as the tall, looming wall came into view.

a deadend.

body tense as the haunting presence made itself known, the harsh footsteps that trailed behind you coming to a stop, boots scraping against the asphalt.

quieting your shaky exhale as much as you could, “what do you want, tomura ?” your voice was as stern as you could currently manage with the raging anxiety that currently encompassed your being, slight trembles pushing through the crevices.

tomura noticed, though he paid it no mind, hands placed lazily in his pockets, demeanour relaxed as he replied, “ahh, and here i thought you’d forgotten about me,” your stomach churned at the sound of his voice, having not heard it in so long, a flurry of horrible memories saturated your mind as he continued, sarcasm laced thickly in the words he spoke, “ignoring my calls and texts like im just some random guy,” scoffing, “im wounded, truly.”

the intense fear you’d been engulfed by began to slowly be poisoned by sheer annoyance at the man’s audacious attitude, shifting on your feet to finally meet his searing crimson gaze.

breath hitching, heart clenching, stomach dropping, that sense of fear threatened to consume you once more, yet you pushed on as best as you could, “we broke up, tomura.”

the statement was bland, harsh, tainted with frustration and it was met with a soft laugh, barely audible, a gentle exhale through his nose.

“you broke up with me,” a slight shake of his head, “i never agreed to it, nor did i accept it,” he corrected taking a few steps closer, you retreated in turn, back soon meeting the wall, him, catching up to you as he continued.

“i gave you time, didn’t i ?” his fluffy white hair had grown much longer since the last time you’d seen him, falling to the side as he tilted his head in question, slight mockery tainting his words, “gave you enough space to figure out your thoughts ?” his hand moved to cup your wine flushed cheek, thumbing gently against it, eyes softening as they stared down into the pretty ones he missed so much, “so let’s go home, yeah ?”

your gaze remained harsh, defensive, “i’m not going anywhere with you, tomura.”

the bite in your words earned the quirk in tomura’s brow, hand dropping down to his side in disgust at your refusal, the warmth the alcohol brought you long gone by now, the unforgiving air nipping at your cheeks.

“yeah ?” he questioned, tone growing slightly hostile, “and what’s here for you, hm ?”

brows furrowing at the question, irritation seeped through your tone as you vented, “i’m building a life h—“

yet his voice cut yours short, “your friends ? your family ? they’re all gone, no ?” rhetorical questions soaked in venom as he spoke, “left you all alone for me to pick up the pieces that is you, to take care of you when you couldn’t do so yourself, right ?” he continued on, warning, “it’ll happen again,_____, you know that. when you’re the problem, they’ll all leave in the end.”

his words were sharp, jagged, barbed, piercing into your misshapenly taped together soul, something you’d worked so hard to mend and heal during your time alone, yet it shattered all too easily once more, it’s dust slipping through your fingers.

“i’m the only one you’ve got left,” he prodded, “and you need me.”

taking in a sharp intake of breath, your heart clenched, eyes stinging, “you’re the problem, tomura…” sighing, “you m-manipulated me, gaslighted me…for years…it’s all on you.” volume growing weaker as you strung the words together, slight cracks slipping through as your eyes welled.

“i see your new friends have taught you some big words, kid, but those are some bold accusations to throw at the person who saved you from yourself,” face scrunched at the comment, octave dropping “you owe me.”

shaking your head at the words, tomura watched as your tense muscles relaxed slightly, the threatening tears in your eyes spilling over with loss, body slumping in defeat and he moved to swipe them away.

“apologise.” he whispered, voice gentle enough to break your will completely, and your body rocked in his grip as you sobbed into his chest, feeling your strength draining, physically and emotionally upon contact, his hand raking through your hair in comfort as the words spilled out.

“i-im sorry,” you stuttered through choked whimpers, it was automatic, a trained part of you jumping out suddenly to satisfy the command.

tomura hummed in response and you continued, “f-for leaving you…for c-calling you such things…” soft pleads slipped past your lips, the part you’d buried so deep within yourself rearing its head again, “p-please, i just…” the fear of angering tomura had you trailing off, but you pushed to continue, “…i don’t want it to be like before,” you spoke in one breath and your heartbeat quickened as tomura pulled away, lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

“it won’t be,” he promised, eyes as gentle as his voice, and though you knew it was a lie, a flowery bouquet of bait that would die out soon, never to be replaced, you accepted them wholeheartedly. your current crave for his touch propelled your ignorance to the lie, your desire for tomura’s approval, for tomura’s praise, for tomura’s satisfaction at the hands of you.

“you’ll be fine, kid.” he continued, eyes shifting to your lips as he neared you, meeting in a harsh kiss full of emotion, muscles relaxing at the contact. his hands found your waist, pulling you in, your own lacing in his lengthy hair as your lips moved, both wishing you could get even closer, give each other more of yourselves.

parting, you remained close as you let out a melody of pants together before he spoke up, “show me to your new place, then, yeah ? we’ll have you moved out by morning.”

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nathaslosthershit · 5 months

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Teenage Angst (Dad!CL16)

Summary: Charles Leclerc’s 16 year old daughter, Lila, has had quite the rebellious phase and the Monegasque just can’t figure out what to do. Luckily, his wife has some of the answers.

Charles loved his life. He loved his job. He loved his home. Most of all, he loved his family. But recently, his job seemed to interfere with his homelife and in turn impacted his relationship with his family.

His family was well versed in the ways of having a husband and father as an Formula 1 driver. They were used to race weekends in exciting new countries, or race weekends spent on the couch as they cheered Charles on. Recently though, as his eldest daughter began to experience the highs and lows of teenage life, she began to resent her father for all the time he spent out of the house.

Her dad was her most favorite person in the world but she hadn’t ever really cared for Formula 1. She liked watching her dad race and seeing all of the ‘honorary uncles’ she had gained over the years but without them she knew she would never have been a fan of the sport. So, when she began to associate it with taking her father away, she couldn’t stand to watch it anymore.

It had become a source of tension between her and her mom. Charles’ wife had tried her entire life to not force the kids into the world of Formula 1. If they didn’t want to kart, they did not have to. They didn’t need to try and follow in the impressive but expectant legacy their father was bound to leave behind. But they were expected to support their Dad. When Lila refused to watch the race with the family, fights would often break out. Her mom always kept her composure, not one to scream, but when she had a 16 year old trying to yell every hateful thing she could think of at her, it made it hard.

After a particularly nasty fight, one where Lila was sent to her room and grounded, the tension in the Leclerc house was palpable. Even though his wife hadn’t told him about it, Charles could sense the shift the moment he walked in the door. He hadn’t been given a chance to inquire about it though because the moment he stepped foot in the entryway, he had been tackled by his youngest daughter, only 6 years old. His wife then too joined the mix, happy to have her husband back (and ecstatic to have another parent in the household to deal with her 16 year old).

“Where is Lila?” Charles asked.

“Ah, she is a bit grumpy at the moment. I am letting her cool down before dinner, which is just about ready. Please quickly shower and get all the plane germs off before you sit to eat with us.” His wife demanded.

As Charles walked up to his room, he passed his eldest daughter’s bedroom and was about to walk in till he noticed she had locked the door, something that she seemed to be doing a lot more recently. Deciding maybe it is best she cools down a little, he walked right by.

Everyone, except Lila, was sat and waiting for the 16 year old to join at the table when after 5 minutes they decided to just start eating. When she finally walked down, she said a quick “hi” to her father, not even looking in his direction, before she started eating.

“Lila, why don’t you thank your mother for her cooking before you eat all the food she made?” Charles asked. Immediately, his wife tensed up, knowing that this would set her oldest daughter off.

“Why? She made pasta. It isn't exactly revolutionary or even hard.”

“She works hard to keep you both alive and happy each day. And the fact she put a lot of love into making sure you are fed well is something to be grateful for.” He was starting to raise his voice, which only caused Lila to turn her attitude up even more.

“She is just a stupid housewife living off the money you make, if it is so hard she can just hire help.”

There was silence after this. Lila watched as her mother silently got up, tears streaming down her face, and walked into the kitchen, not wanting to cause a scene or have another fight with her daughter. Lila immediately regretted the things she said, once again just looking for the most hurtful things to say.

“Are you kidding me? I cannot believe that those disgusting things just came out of my very own daughter’s mouth! Why would you ever say such a thing about such a wonderful and loving mother? When the hell did this attitude develop?”

“Maybe you would know if you weren’t gone all the time racing stupid fucking cars. God, Dad, you have no right to try and parent me when you aren’t even here. Go back to Ferrari, they are the only family that wants you!” She was screaming now. Nothing she said was true, of course, she knew it, but she couldn’t stop till she made everyone feel as miserable as she did.

“Enough! I am so disappointed and appalled by the things you are saying. Go to your room because I sure do not want to see you tonight!” At this, Lila stormed off, stomping up the stairs till she slammed the door. Charles could almost laugh at how cliche the whole situation was. Hormonal teenager upsetting her parents then storming off. But he couldn’t think about that now that he had his beautiful and sweet wife crying to herself in the kitchen, and his 6 year old daughter tearing up at all the fighting. “I am sorry, sweetie. Why don’t you go and put a television show on and I can get the special candy I got for you while I was away?” This seemed to do the trick as his youngest daughter immediately perked up and ran to the living room.

Walking into the kitchen, Charles was met with his wife silently washing the dishes, but he could see how her body shook as she cried. She immediately melted into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“Charles, she has been like this for weeks now. It always is always worse when you are gone. I- I don’t know what to do. I feel like the world’s worst mother, always fighting and grounding her.”

“My love, it is in no way your fault. How she acted was out of line and I am so disgusted by it. None of what she said was true and I hope you know that.” He said, kissing his wife’s forehead.

“I know, I know. She is just trying to get us upset. I just don’t know how much more I can handle.”

“I am the worst husband for not being here. I am sorry, my love. If I knew it was this bad then I would have-”

“You would have what, Charles? You have a job that takes a lot of time. You will sometimes be out of the loop. And that is okay. You work hard to provide for us, so we can live such a nice and comfortable life. I heard what she said to you too. It wasn’t fair of her to get mad at your career. I think she is just upset that you are gone so often.”

“What do I do about that though? Retire? Because if it comes down to it-”

“No, no, no. You will retire when you are ready to, and that is surely not now. She is just hormonal and extremely emotional. Let me talk to her, I am sure she just misses her dad. You are her most favorite person, you know that right?” he nodded in response, “I would almost be jealous if we didn’t have a 6 year old who told me earlier today that I am the coolest person in the world, and that I was pretty enough to be a princess.” She joked.

“She takes after me, idolizes you in every way.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Smooth Talker. Let me go talk to Lila.” With a chaste kiss to the lips, she walked away in hope of reconciling this whole fight.

Luckily, Lila’s door was unlocked. But she was blasting music so hard that she didn’t hear her mother come in until she screamed when she felt someone touch her back.

“Relaxe, honey, it's just me.” Her mother said, turning down the music.

It was silent as she awaited her daughter’s response. Both women at a standoff, seeing who would crack first. Luckily for them it didn’t last too long as it was Lila who lost. She burst into tears, quickly muttering apology after apology at her mother.

“Sweetheart, it is okay. I was hurt by what you said but I was a teenager once too. I said some pretty mean things to my mom. I understand that it sometimes comes with the territory.”

“Did you say mean things to your dad too?” Lila asked, hiccuping from the sobs.

“No, but I didn’t have as nice of a father as you do. I was more scared of him. You on the other hand have the most wonderful father, and you said some nasty things to him tonight.”

“He already is disappointed I didn’t take after him and start racing. He probably regrets having a girl.” Lila sobbed, breaking her mother’s heart. Those things couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Honey, you know how excited your father was when I told him I was pregnant with you? It was far too early to know if you were a boy or a girl, but Charles was convinced he would have a daughter first. There was never a single moment that he wasn’t absolutely thrilled to be a girl dad. It didn’t matter if you were ever a boy or a girl though, he never for a single moment cared if his kids would follow in his footsteps. He has lost too many loved ones to this sport, he was honestly a little relieved when you said you didn’t want to go karting. But he always hoped you would support him. He just wants you guys to be proud of him.”

Lila once again burst into tears at this revelation, thinking herself a terrible daughter for not being supportive. “He must hate me now. I- I have been so terrible to him.”

“You could never do anything to make him hate you. I think he is just upset about the things you said but he knows you don’t mean them. Go talk to him, honey. It will clear everything up I promise.” Lila’s mom said as she rubbed her daughter’s back.

After a long hug, the 16 year old Leclerc went to the living room where she saw her father watching a kids tv show with her younger sister who was happily demolishing a bag of candy. Once Charles noticed his daughter’s arrival, and that Lila clearly wanted to say something to him but was hesitant, he sent the 6 year old off to go find her Maman. As he looked back at Lila, her tear stained face and puffy eyes broke his heart, even if he was still upset at her.

Before he could say anything, she rushed into his arms, sobbing out an “I’m sorry Papa! I didn’t mean what I said, I promise. I love you and love watching you race, I just miss you so much!”

Giving her a few seconds to collect herself, he kissed her forehead, tears threatening to fall as he replied. “Lila, I know you didn’t mean those things. It breaks my heart to be gone as much as I am. I love you so much, honey. I am sorry for yelling.”

Pulling away, she smiled at the revelation that she wasn’t in trouble with her dad. “I apologized to Maman too. She told me to talk to you. I am sorry I have been so mean to her while you have been gone.”

“I know. She is always good at getting us back in line, huh? You are still grounded for what you said though.” She laughed at that. Maybe it was a little too naive to think she would be in the clear now and punishment free. “Maybe though, you can come to the next race? Just me and you? I can try to convince your Mama to let you miss a few days of school.”

“Yes! I would love that. But only if I can visit Uncle Pierre at Alpine.” She demanded, giggling with excitement.

“If you step foot in any garage that isn’t Ferrari, you will be grounded for two more weeks” Charles joked… kind of. Maybe he would only ground her one week for that.

This was far from the last fight they had, but they eventually got out of this hormonal funk Lila had all been in. They had to look ahead though because they still had another daughter to deal with once she became a teenager.

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine

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beanpodz · 1 month

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This is pointless but here’s what I would have done for each member of the umbrella academy during season 4:

1. Luther would still be a dancer in this for me but he wouldn’t live at the academy. He’d live with an elderly old man that he helps to take care of in exchange for a room. I want Luther obsessing over a father figure in every season. Sue me. His room would be full of abandoned hobbies (think knitting needles, a guitar with a broken string, a bookshelf filled with *blank* for dummies books). He’d have spent the last few years trying to discover who he is. Besides all of his hobbies he’d have a whole section of his wall dedicated to finding Sloane. If we couldn’t get the actress maybe we have a quick photo of her married to someone else or have that be discovered in the plot. I don’t necessarily think Luther has to have a happy ending with Sloane but he could have it in terms of getting over his daddy issues and discovering who he is as a person. He puts a lot of effort into his family (especially sparrow Ben) through out the season but he able to become a figure outside of his family this season.

2. Diego’s whole deal before this point is vengeance and vigilantism. The life of a UPS worker is so far removed from this but I’d keep it. I’d really want to highlight that this is something Diego does because he thinks this is what he has to do to be a family man. I’d also spend a lot more time this season on his family. Like him cooking breakfast or something while Lila (who I’ll come back to) is dealing with the twins while looking ready to pull her hair out. Lila’s parents would also have a lot more to do to. Maybe they nitpick Diego or maybe Diego isn’t sure how to behave around his new family that actually seems to be healthy. I’d also keep his lil dad gut but I wouldn’t make it a point of humor. It’d just be a thing to highlight the image of the dad he is. His storyline this season would deal with him wanting to be something (a father, a husband) while not really knowing how to do this and still having dreams of his previous life of excitement and action. Also would show drama with Lila and him navigating their new lives and maybe not in the healthiest way at first.

3. Allison would still be attempting to be an actress. But she would be hyper vigilant of Claire. She fought so hard and betrayed her whole family to get back to her. She might even be overbearing. Her emotional arc this season would have a lot to do with learning to allow Claire to become her own person. I also would have included Ray because he would NEVER just walk out but if we can’t get the actor I think maybe I would have killed him off (I’m sorry). Maybe the realization that her new timeline is not perfect helps to enforce the idea into her that Claire is not invulnerable. We’d also spend a lot more time talking about this. Ray would have a picture on her bedside table and maybe her and Luther could have some closure by talking about their loved ones. She would also have to work a lot harder to gain acceptance from her family.

4. Klaus’s would NOT get his powers back so early in the season. We would also not have any of his plot from the real season beyond the fact that he is now a hypochondriac. I really liked that detail. I liked Uncle Klaus loving Claire to death and them both learning to enter the big scary world would be a staple in his season 4 arc. Klaus would definitely talk about Dave more too. He’s so afraid of losing others because of his loss of Dave but he still has these worries about his own death. This could be his big moment this season. Him having to accept his powers, despite his sobriety and fear, in order to save his family in some way. The choice should be his. It would be his ultimate sacrifice and it would finish off his arc in a more satisfying way that doesn’t leave him as someone incapable of saving himself or others. We could also get his ghost army and levitation. As a treat.

5. I would have kept Five as a teenager. He’d be 17 at most and having to live with one of the other siblings (I’m leaning towards Luther). He’s ‘homeschooled’ at this point and spends his time trying to find inaccuracies in the timeline that could suggest another end of days. He’s obsessed with the apocalypse and a safe world can never feel safe for him. Lila still does not like or trust Five because of what he did to her parents in the OG timeline. But because he and Lila are still searching for danger (for different reasons) they end up attending the Keeper meetings together. The whole subway things happens but NOT the romance or the choosing to stay. Instead they both go through the timelines trying to solve the end of the world and we spend like 2 whole episodes on this. They see the apocalypse again. Five gets soft over Delores. Lila sees what Five went through to get back to his family. To save Diego. They eventually learn to see each other as family. And they’re only gone for a year before they both find the Five Deli. They’re dirty, injured, and have just spent the last year trying to get back and save they’re family. They do NOT accept the other five telling them to just die and give up. Maybe Five contemplates but now that Lila and Five are bonded and besties (please I just want friendship from them) she is able to convince to try ‘one more time old timer’. They get an exit found by another five and find a way to save the world (need more thought on how). Also after the world ends and Five no longer has a purpose like before, he finds a new one in his family and this adorable ( absolutely ugly) little dog that was eating trash in an alley.

6. Ben would still have been a crypto scammer because I love that. It’s sparrow Ben so there is still a huge disconnect from him and the rest of the family. I don’t think he gets a romance with Jennifer but he meets her. And it’s learned that Jennifer is not of this timeline but was in a squid that came from another one. I’m thinking the squid is what lives inside Ben and it’s escape is what killed him ( not the dumb as hell thing that really happened). The squid eats Jennifer as she is a hostage in whatever situation (mission by the beach idk) but she is one of the other 43 kids. She has powers similar to Viktor in the way that they are world destroying. The fact that she from another timeline is what gives her extra interest to Jean and Gene. Ben begins to gets realize he’s not exactly a great person compared to Umbrella Ben but begins to bond with them over the course of the season. Also the jar isn’t given to the umbrella academy by David Cross (already forgot his characters name) but instead found by Jean and Gene in the opening scene. They intend to give it to Jennifer once they get to her but instead are intercepted by five and Lila. Maybe they give it to Jennifer at a meeting as a ritual and Five steals it and takes it to the family. Now Jean and Gene are after them and they know Jennifer is gonna end the world. Plot with lots of moments for cool fight scenes and music numbers.

7. Viktor could be living Canada still. He still feels so isolated from the family that he struggles to be around them. I like the joke of him being someone incapable of maintaining a relationship but we know he could do it with Sissy so I would instead have him have a rocky relationship with a girl who maybe also isn’t in the healthiest spot. Since Viktor doesn’t get kidnapped in this version, his trouble involves introducing the new girl to his family and not knowing how to navigate these two worlds that have always been separate in his life. He gets to play violin still too because that was such a big thing in the comics and the violin is something that he learns to harness his powers with once they get their powers back. For what seems like the first time, Viktor isn’t ending the world but saving it. And he is fighting with his family as a powerful unit. Think early scene in s2 where they all realize their full potential.

8. Lila is struggling with her new life. She has a family, her parents, and a calm life. It was supposed to be a life only meant for her dreams but she finds it dull. Diego is showing off a facade of being happy in this life so she doesn’t want to talk about how it’s affecting her. She forms a tentative truce with five when she gets a dose of excitement by involving herself with the keepers. When she realizes she is once again in an apocalypse situation she has conflicting feelings about what this means for her and her family. She wholeheartedly joins five on the subway adventure not realizing how long it would be before she could see her family again. She bonds with Five and they both commiserate about loving their family so much but not knowing if they will ever have the ability to be happy. Her arc revolves around finding equilibrium between her two worlds and saving the world with Five. Someone she now sees as family and who she knows would do anything to save her because she’s family. She and Diego would talk and learn they both have issues with their new lives but they are dedicated to helping each other find what the other needs to at least be content. She also doesn’t ever cheat on Diego and the little Greek guy comment makes her laugh so hard she almost pees.

#I’m bored at work so here you are #this is all stupid and fun btw #I have more thoughts but I gotta stop or I never will #the umbrella academy #tua #five hargreeves #allison hargreeves #tua spoilers #diego hargreaves #lila pitts #viktor hargreeves #ben hargreeves #luther hargreeves #klaus hargreeves

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astraariel · 1 year

Text

scarlett love

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

summary: you forgot him, chose to let Sanji go, but was that enough? would the universe leave you alone and let you live in peace?

word count: 4.1K

warnings: cursing; spoilers (?) just mention of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!

tags: angst; fluff; hanahaki disease; modern!au; reconciliation; second chances; unrequited turned requited; slight self-hate; happy endings

author’s note: okkkkay here it is. so many of you guys asked for it so here’s pt 2 to eternal snow! I initially wanted to post the mihawk fic first that i'm working on but I can’t finish writing it for the life of me so I decided to work on this one instead lol.

like I mentioned before, this is part 2 to this fic so obvi read that before you read this one!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

They say people who have the surgery are doomed for life.

How could they choose to never love again; how could they deliberately go through with the surgery knowing they would never have those emotions again?

But in actuality, it was the choice of forgetting about that love.

People don’t know the grievances and the strength it takes to choose to forget the love of your life. They don’t know the despair of being in love with someone wholeheartedly knowing they don’t love you back.

That you would never remember those emotions for whom you loved.

You saw it as this: if you couldn’t live to love your person, you wouldn’t bear to love at all.

So in that way, you won.

You gained the power to no longer grieve for your love because you simply couldn’t remember him.

Since hanahaki disease was rare, there weren’t too many recovery patients to base knowledge on since many of the victims chose to die rather than to be saved.

So you were honestly going in blind.

Nami would sometimes ask you if you could remember anything, a nervous look on her face, you knew she remembered your past love, but the doctor had told her to not mention anything to you in your recovery period. You think she asked out of curiosity.

Or maybe fear?

But every time you’d just tell her that you couldn’t, your head would hurt if you thought too hard and too long about who you had lost.

If you could remember specific memories, they weren't fully visualized, they were static, like when an old TV was out of range from the signal and would struggle to picture the channel.

All you could remember was his silhouette, his figure blurry and his name was always on the tip of your tongue but you could never place your finger on it.

You remember during your first check-up, the doctor had asked you if you could describe your past love,

“I'm not sure.”

Your voice had been wobbly like you were on the verge of crying. Tears had pricked your eyes, along with the feeling of not being able to breathe even though those damn flowers were gone.

Not being able to understand why?

That feeling went away a week later.

You laugh at yourself now, chiding yourself for being ridiculous back then.

At what point could you have allowed yourself to be so deeply in love with someone that it was killing you? You could never understand.

It was an absurd, abysmal idea that you had ever gotten to that point.

While the doctor said the following months would be difficult getting used to your new life of having one less emotion, you were fine.

It had helped that Nami had stayed by your side, and when she couldn’t Sanji would.

Sanji was an angel.

He tended to your every need, always made sure you didn’t lift a finger even after you told him multiple times you could do it yourself.

But he always reassured you he didn’t mind.

You were sad to hear that he stopped seeing Pudding. It was honestly too bad because she was good for him, he deserves someone who can love and care for him just as much as he cares for others.

Nevertheless, you were glad he was here for you.

The sound of music playing softly in the background comforts you as you shuffle through your kitchen making dinner.

You and Sanji have recently started having weekly dinners with each other, an idea he came up with.

“We can update each other about our lives, good ole fashion face-to-face interaction.”

“I don’t think my life is going to change too much in the week we don’t see each other, Sanji”

The sound of the door ringing pulls you from your thoughts, drying your hands with a towel, you walk over to the front door.

The cool November breeze greets you as soon as you open the door, Sanji’s figure fills your view.

The coat he’s wearing to protect himself from the wind encapsulates him in a way that makes you smile instinctively, you can see his red ears peeking from under his blond hair.

“Come in, come in, I was just finishing up dinner.”

“Oh, can I help you with anything else?” he offers while shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack beside the front door. “Or are you not allowing me into your kitchen again?” he smirks toward you.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “It’s my turn to make dinner, you cook for a living, it's my time to shine now, dude.” He chuckles and begins to set the table for the two of you.

The warm food fills the plate in your hand, placing it on the counter, you grab another plate. “So, how’s work?”

Sanji grabs both of the plates and brings them to the table, setting them down, he looks back at you. “Ah, the old man’s got me working late most days.”

You smile softly at the scene; since you can remember you and Sanji have been able to work in tandem. Back when Nami first introduced you, it was like a pull connecting the two of you, also guiding and leading the two of you in perfect harmony.

It was nice.

Finishing your dinner, Sanji grabs his cup, “That was delicious, thank you.”

“Well I did have a decent teacher,” you say into the glass smiling, gulping down the liquid you set it back down and look at Sanji.

He goes to say something before he’s interrupted by a cough.

Sanji turns his head and coughs into a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, he quickly wipes his mouth before looking back at you, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Shaking your head in acknowledgement you begin cleaning up the dinner table.

“Oh I forgot, I bought flowers, they’re in the living room let me grab them real quick.” Sanji stands quickly.

Turning, you watch him walk away, not catching the lone petal falling out of his pocket.

♡‧₊˚

Vinsmoke Sanji has done a lot of things.

Some of which he regrets, but others he stands by, but there was one that met both criteria.

And that was you.

He was glad he met you, that he was able to spend time being with you, loving you, and knowing that you loved him back.

But he regrets hurting you. He regrets letting himself be temporarily infatuated with Pudding. Sanji had laughed in the face of fate, and in return, he got what he deserved.

His impending end.

The petals had shown up the day you went into the hospital.

While you were given a second chance at life, Sanji had just signed his away.

He remembers the memory of Nami telling him what had happened. He had it permanently seared into his brain, never allowing himself to forget the moment.

Her eyes were red, face hot with anger when she pulled up to his house.

“You absolute idiot.” He hadn’t even fully opened the door before she was swearing at him, cursing him to the ends of the earth over what he had done. “You did this. You caused that pain…if I hadn't found her…,” her hands had started punching his chest.

“She would have been gone, all because of you.”

A part of Sanji died that day.

So when he got the same disease you had, he knew he deserved it.

Wasn’t it only right that he got the same death sentence that almost took you away?

It was slow at first, from what Nami had told him about your situation, Sanji knew this was how it started.

The first few weeks were bearable, he could go about his daily life without causing any suspicion. No one would ask if he was okay or anything, just simply being able to cough into a tissue and discard it quickly.

Then the blossoms came.

After one terrible night of constantly coughing up blood and flower blossoms, Sanji did some research. He knew the full blooms were next along with the finishing blow of the roots. It had only been a month since you had your surgery, and yet his hanahaki was a lot more accelerated in comparison to yours.

A month since he had realized he was deathly in love with you.

But he could bear this burden. Who was he to complain about his death trickling closer than it normally should?

Sanji remembered the moment he realized his disease would finish him more swiftly, that he was faster along than he typically should be; whether it was because the universe knew you could never love him back or it was simply his punishment for what he did.

Probably both.

Even though he knew he could easily fix the problem, he didn't have the right to get a second chance.

How could he?

How long did you spend hiding your condition away, not even when he had broken things off, before then? How long were you hurting because you knew he was lying when he said he loved you?

The gall he would have to have to go through with the surgery?

Absolutely not.

But deep in his heart, he also couldn’t bring himself to forget you. He’d rather be a coward and a liar than choose a life undeserving of him.

He would rather die than forget you, to never be able to love you again would be death itself.

He hated himself for what he did to you. The insolence he had to hurt someone as caring as you, why did he take advantage of that?

He himself every day.

If he had to live with constantly coughing up blood and bending over the toilet puking up flower petals just for you to live your life? Yeah, he could do that. He could live with the pain of knowing that you would never love him back.

That you could never love him back.

It quite literally was in human nature that he would never be saved unless he did the surgery, since you couldn’t even love anyone anymore.

Sanji’s hand lifts his handkerchief up to his mouth, his body heaving with a hard cough of petals.

He sighs.

♡‧₊˚

The TV light shines on both you and Sanji’s forms as the movie comes to an end, the ending credits miniaturizing as the screen recommends a shitty Christmas movie that has the both of you turning to the other.

“That was an unnecessarily long movie.” Sanji’s comment makes you laugh.

“Right? God, it was dragging on for a really long time.” Shaking his head he stands up to place the popcorn bucket on the kitchen counter.

You follow him holding the cups that held lemonade two hours ago. “It’s getting late, I should probably go.”

“Yeah, probably, oh wait-I bought something for you, meant to give it to you when we had dinner at your place but I forgot.” Sanji’s voice trails as he goes off to his bedroom.

You stand there for a couple of minutes before checking the time, “Yo, Sanji, did’ya get lost?” laughing to yourself, you walk over into the bedroom. Your eyes immediately meet Sanji’s form hunched over on the ground.

A gasp falls from your lips as you rush over to him. “Sanji, oh god, are you okay what’s wrong-”

You cut yourself off when you bend down to look at him, there you see a pool of blood on the hardwood floor, petals scattered around the scene with a full flower bloom sitting in his hands.

“What?” you can’t breathe.

Sanji says your name but you don’t hear him, your brows knit together as you look up at him. “I don’t understand why are you coughing up petals?”

No? This couldn’t be happening.

Your heart breaks.

Who did Sanji love so dearly that he was cursed with the same disease that had you in its chokehold not long ago?

You would never wish this on anyone, no one deserved to live through the hurt of having unrequited love.

“You weren’t,” he wipes his mouth, “you weren’t supposed to find out.”

“I don’t-why wouldn't you want to tell me? If anything, I’d be the only person able to understand. Sanji, who is it?” your eyes scan his face.

Sanji’s ragged breathing fills the air between the two of you. “I can’t.”

You furrow your brows even more, shaking your head. “Please just tell me so I can help-”

“You can’t.”

“What do you mean, I can’t? You’re not making sense.”

Sanji closes his eyes. “It’s you.”

You stop breathing, the figure in your memory rushes to the forefront of your brain like a tsunami.

In the past the figure was always blurry, never in frame in your mind, only being able to trace his silhouette, but now it was different.

It was like he was right in front of you like you could smell him, feel his hands in yours, his warmth. Feel his lips against your lips when he-

“It was you.” your voice was quiet, “You were the one I loved.”

His eyes snap at yours, a gasp falling from his lips.

“The person I loved so deeply… that it caused me so much pain.”

And there it was, the fog had been lifted.

“How could I have forgotten?” How ironic the entire thing was.

“Why would I ever forget about my love for you, Sanji?” you look at him, “What grief did you cause me?”

A tidal wave of emotions, affections, all poured out of your soul and into your memories. The months of coughing up petal after petal till they turned to full flower blooms. The fear that a root would pop up once you pulled your tissue from your face.

The pain and the hurt that Sanji had caused you.

The pain of knowing that he didn't love you anymore.

It all came rushing back.

“Why would you keep this from me?” you were getting angry, but was it for the right reason?

Hadn’t you done the same with him? Hadn’t you kept it from all the people you loved as well?

“You know why I went through with the surgery? It wasn’t Nami who made me, well not partially, but why I allowed myself to let her drive me to the hospital was because I didn't want you to suffer.” your eyes were burning, the tears threatening to fall.

“I don't understand?” Of course, he wouldn’t.

“You were obviously unhappy, Sanji. If I removed myself from the equation, it would solve everything and at…at first I thought dying was the solution I really did.” your eyes drop, “And maybe Nami finding me was a saving grace but, I originally wasn't gonna do anything.”

“Week after week, Sanji, I was drowning. I wanted to yell at anyone who would listen and ask why I couldn't have anything, why couldn’t I be happy? That the universe had some sort of fucking vendetta against me.”

“So I decided to let you go, to choose to live a life of unknown heartache, and when I finally thought I had accomplished that. The universe just spits in my face by cursing you.”

“Don’t you see it? We don’t belong together, Sanji.” The anger was gone now, all that was left was emptiness.“We have the signs, we need to heed them and move on.”

Sanji says your name with a plea, but you ignore him. “Just get the surgery, stop hurting the both of us.”

“It does us no good if you're dead.” And with that, you walk out of the bedroom and out the front door.

♡‧₊˚

The quiet murmurs of the newscaster talking about the weather for the week could barely be heard from the running water you were using to wash the dishes.

You haven't seen Sanji in a couple of weeks, not since he announced that you were the one whom he was in love with.

And definitely not since you remembered he was the one whom you had loved before.

And while at first, you were angry. Angry at him for lying and keeping such vital information from you.

It later turned to guilt.

Guilt for getting angry at him. Guilt for causing him pain.

But it wasn’t your fault, it’s not like you chose not to love him, you physically couldn’t anymore. You signed that ability off months ago.

But you also missed him. Since you weren’t talking to him, you weren’t having your weekly dinners or your impromptu movie nights anymore.

You missed just talking to him. You missed the lame jokes he’d tell in hopes of hearing your laugh, that smile he’d get whenever he spoke about a new recipe.

You missed him.

But you were also confused.

After he had revealed that he loved you and you had remembered that your past love was him, it became too much for you to handle.

Glancing at the moon, you dry your hands on a towel and walk into the living room. The weatherman was currently informing you of a chance of rain tomorrow during the already cold late January weather.

Sighing you go to sit down before something catches your eyes. A picture frame that hangs on your wall glints as you walk toward it.

It was a photo of you and Sanji looking at the camera with wide smiles on display from Sanji’s birthday two years prior. On top of your heads sat a birthday hat colored blue for the sea theme your friends had thrown together as a joke for the blonde that year.

You remember how you felt that day, the anxiety of wanting to get Sanji the perfect gift and when he finally opened it, he had hugged you which had you blushing like crazy while you swatted his “thank yous” away.

God, where did this deja vu come from?

It was weird, you weren't sure what it was.

It felt like your entire being was full. Full of intense and overwhelming emotions, an emotion you shouldn't feel. An emotion that was eradicated from your life when you stepped out of that hospital.

But here it was, rearing its big ugly face once again.

For Sanji.

You stumble back as if you had been shocked with electricity.

Looking around your apartment you close your eyes.

How could this happen? Why were you still being punished again?

You had endured the pain, chose to get rid of it and now you’ve been having to live with knowing that Sanji also was experiencing the exact same pain.

Sanji.

How could you have been so cold? Telling him to do the surgery? What was wrong with you?

You missed him. You missed your love for him. The feelings you’d get when he’d look your way. Sanji was your ambrosia and you needed him to survive.

But you didn’t miss how you felt when he chose another over you. Those feelings you wished you hadn’t remembered.

You weren't sure how you were still able to feel Sanji's love. But here you were.

An anomaly that you were.

Guess that shows how deep your love truly was rooted.

How could you have allowed yourself to forget?

The drive to Sanji’s apartment was quiet, opting to not play music or turn the radio on so that you could think clearly with your new (re) developed emotions.

Pulling up to the driveway, you step out of your car. The jacket you have on trapping your heat from the cold winds of the night.

The few steps to the front door felt like a lifetime. The moonlight provided a little comfort to your restless self.

Exhaling, you bring your hand to knock at the door, a small part of you hoping Sanji wasn’t home so you could go home and pretend like nothing happened.

The door swings open revealing Sanji. His eyes were wide like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him.

“Hey…can I come in?” you look up at him expectantly.

“Yeah, yeah come in.” Sending him a quick smile you walk past him and into the living room.

He shuts the door and faces you, you turn and finally get a good look at him in the light.

He looked worse for wear, his eyes had bags under them, a sign he hadn’t been sleeping if at all. Whether that was because of your argument or his condition, you didn't know. One hand was in his pocket and the other was fiddling with his handkerchief.

“How are you…” signaling your hand at him, “I mean physically, how are you? What stage?”

He looks away, “well…I’m still living,” he chuckles quietly.

You sigh.

God the two of you were truly messed up.

“It all came back.”

“What?” he questions.

Your eyes begin to glaze over, “My memories, everything.” you wet your lips, “All of it, Sanji.”

“It just-all came back…on top of our argument, of you telling me you loved me.” Tears fell down your cheeks. “Of how I felt when you were-when you were with Pudding.”

He says your name.

“And I hated it, I hated remembering how I felt, Sanji. I remember pitying myself, wondering what I had done wrong, why you hadn’t loved me anymore,” he says your name again, “but I also remembered how I felt loving you.” you look up at him with your tear-streaked face.

“And I will never regret loving you, not then, definitely not now. I also don’t regret forgetting, because I understand why I did it. I loved you enough to be able to let you go. To be able to know you’ll live your life happily, whether that’s with me or someone else. I didn’t care. Just that you were happy.”

“But I wasn’t-”

You cut him off, “I knew you didn't love me how I loved you, but I still knew you cared. So if I had died, even from death, I would have hated myself for hurting you. So I chose to forget.” you wipe your cheek, “I just wish you had never gotten that godforsaken thing as well.”

“Sanji I…I love you wholeheartedly. You encompass my entire existence. I live for you. Even now, when I didn't remember how I felt for you. It was there. My love for you was still inside. And it always will be. I think even if you hadn’t told me you loved me now, I would have remembered anyway. Simply because that’s who I am, I am my love for you, you consume my entire soul.” You probably looked like a mess.

“You look beautiful.” Did you say that out loud?

You smile softly, “So when you admitted that you loved me, that I was inadvertently hurting you, I couldn’t take it. I had been the monster I sought to eliminate. So I pushed you away.” you sigh, “I pushed you away because I didn't want to go through the same pain again. I was selfish if you had just done the surgery, I'd be able to forget about this again and you wouldn't even remember.” you walk toward Sanji. “I’ve learned that I can’t run away from you anymore. And I’ve realized that I don’t want to lose you again.”

“So let me save you.”

Sanji’s face was red, his eyes were blurry with tears, his fist clenching his handkerchief filled with petals and blooms.

“I’m so sorry.” Sanji’s voice trembles, “I am so sorry, I caused you so much pain, if I could take it back I would. And I don’t even deserve you, I’m not worthy of your love, but if you allow me, let me make it up.”

You close the gap between the two of you and pull his lips toward your own. They’re slightly chapped and both of your guy’s faces are wet but you don’t care. You feel his fingers carding through your hair, pulling you deeper.

This kiss was different from any others before, this one was filled with desire and want but it was also filled with joy and love.

You were finally happy.

You pull away first, breathing heavily and your face flushed, “You already are.”

“I love you so much, please never forget.” you wipe a stray tear, cradling his face.

You want to commit this memory in your brain. No more forgetting, no more letting go. To make sure that for the night, no cough was to be heard, no petal was to be hidden,

just two lovers finally with one another, forever.

#astraariel♡#one piece #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n

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sant-riley · 6 months

Note

Uhhh brain wracking brain wracking-

Imagine S/O surprising Ghost with their strength by picking him up and perhaps spinning him around

They insist that he's as light as a feather. They're visibly struggling while holding him up

Thank you anon for the food, I haven't written anything in AGES I'm sorry if I'm rusty but fuck it we ball, gonna do these as bullet points!

Warnings; nothing I can think of! But as always, lmk!

(Literally me and Simon)

Trying and somewhat achieving in picking up Simon!

The first time you bring it up, asking if you can attempt it, Simon looks at you like you're fucking stupid.

He's a big dude, bigger than most and will almost always be the biggest person in the room, he's built like a fucking mountain.

You throwing him pretty eyes and begging for his permission isn't gonna change the fact that you're smaller than him, you'll hurt yourself, he knows you will, so he says no.

This does nothing to ward you off, only fueling you to want to work out and gain upper arm and body strength to prove him wrong out of spite.

He'll ask Soap where you've been in the last few weeks,, noticing your slight absence when training hours are over, nowhere to be found an hour or so afterwards.

Soap only chuckles and throws a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the gym where the creaks of the workout gear can be heard still.

"They're still workin' wouldn't tell me why though."

Simon makes his way towards the gym, leaning on the doorway as he sees you huff and puff as you do sets of bicep curls.

He can't help but a small smirk run under his mask, you're so committed to this. It's so stupid, but he can't deny it makes him happy.

No one can just pick the man up, takes Price, Gaz and Soap usually to keep up right and that's with his arms thrown around their shoulders.

He still doubts you'll be able to, but he's flattered. You're trying (asshole)

Simon creeps silently to you, waiting til you set down the weights before whispering out a "boo", his shit eating grin when you yelp and whirl around, wide eyes staring oh so prettily up at him.

"What the fuck! Why would you do that?" "It's funny." "It is fucking not." "Mmm, sure is."

He moves to ruffle your hair, ignoring your hand swatting at his own.

"Why are you here afterhours? You're missing chunks of your dinner." He knows why, he just wants to hear you admit it.

"Is it a crime to work out some more? To stay in top shape for our job?" The eyebrow he raises is catastrophic, immediately calling you the fuck out without any words.

"Okay, fine. I've been working out so I can prove to you I can pick you up."

At this point, he figures he can humor you, you've been trying so hard.

"Y'know what? Why the hell not, cmon, try and lift me."

"Are you fucking with me or-" "hurry up before I change my mind." "Aye Aye sir."

He stands in front of you, arms loosely at his side, head tilted to the right as he watches you get into form.

The key to lift with your legs, the strength in them far outweighing anything else, wrapping your arms across his stomach (a feeling of electricity jumps up his spine at your touch, he hopes you don't notice.)

You take a deep breath, nuzzling your head into his chest and try your fucking damndest to lift this behemoth of a man up and to your and Simon's surprise, you DO manage to lift him up, at least an inch of the ground before your legs buckle and you shakily place him down.

A whoop leaves your mouth, jumping up and down as you giggle about lifting Ghost, "I did it! You weren't that heavy at all!" Simon can literally see the sweat on your brow, but he just rumbles out a laugh and moves to plant a masked kiss on your temple, congratulating you on your win over him.

You run out into the base, no doubt going to tell the others about your feat.

He sighs a gross lovesick sigh, and moves to grab your gym bag from the bench and follow after you.

#I HOPE THIS IS ENTERTAINING PLS HAVE MERCY I DONT WRITE ANYTNING EVER ANYMORE #ghost <3 #ive missed him my husband #kayla writes <3 #kayla asks <3 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty drabble #call of duty headcanons #call of duty modern warfare #cod #call of duty #call of duty x reader #task force 141 x reader

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writingforstraykids · 4 months

Text

I always see you

Pairing: Minchan (mention of OT8)

Word Count: 4048

Summary: After their break Minho isn't quite happy with his currently gained weight. Struggling to accept himself, his friends make it worse by pointing out the changes of his body lovingly and teasingly. Chan tries to figure out what's wrong, but it takes a while until Minho lets him.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, weight gain, minho hates the sight of himself, gets called soft, squishy, cute, etc. for it, minho collapses at the gym

Minho stands before the mirror, his eyes tracing the new curves and edges of his body. It's not new, this version of himself that greets him in the morning, but he never likes it. The changes their long break caused are undeniable: his cheeks fuller, his midsection softer. Each glance brings a new fresh wave of discomfort, a stark contrast to the image he had of himself just months ago. The many weeks of freedom had been very beneficial for his mental health but the lack of work, stress and hours of practice made his body soften, all the food rounding his edges.

He inhales shakily, fingers hesitating, then presses into the softness at his belly. The texture feels so different to what he's been used to. Minho sighs, the sound as heavy as the thoughts clouding his mind. This isn't just a physical change, it's a whole shift in how he sees himself and what he thinks others will see now.

He pulls one of Chan's shirts over his head, relaxing a little at the way it falls around his body. Chan's broader than him, there's no chance he'll fill it out the same as Chan with his shoulders and trained arms. Minho forces himself downstairs, the scent of breakfast making his stomach growl already. He swallows hard and slips into his chair next to Chan who's talking to Seungmin next to him.

Chan's hand finds his thighs and Minho relaxes at the simple but soothing touch. He reaches for some water and leans back in his chair after, smiling as Chan turns to him. “Hey there,” Chan whispers, leaning in for a kiss.

“Hey,” Minho says softly, a genuine smile tugging at his lips as they kiss. “You slept okay?” he asks, gently brushing back his hair, fingers running through the soft curls.

“Yeah, missed you though,” he confesses. Minho said something about not sleeping well lately and not wanting to wake him up so they decided to sleep separately.

“I'm sorry,” Minho whispers, swallowing hard. He's sleeping just fine but the thought of Chan clinging to him, hands wandering over his body isn't as soothing as it usually would be. He'd notice.

“Are you two done being all loving that early in the morning?” Hyunjin teases and Minho redirects his attention to the table.

Chan hands him waffles Felix made and reaches for the orange juice. “You want some?” he asks and his boyfriend nods politely.

“Thank you,” he smiles, as Chan pours him a glass.

“You're welcome, baby,” he smiles brightly.

“Why is Minho hyung getting served breakfast and not me?” Jeongin chimes in teasingly. Minho giggles and takes the first bite. He bites back a moan, tasting the perfectly fluffy waffle.

“Who can blame him? Have you seen how cute Minho looks lately?” Jisung asks and Chan laughs.

“Lately?” he wonders.

“Look at his cheeks,” he tells him and gently pokes Minho's cheek. “They're so squishy, it's so cute,” he giggles and the room erupts in laughter.

The comment was meant in good humor, but scraped against Minho’s insecurities like sandpaper. His smile remains, but his eyes don't meet his friends’. He slowly lowers his fork and reaches for the juice instead, hand stopping mid-air before reaching for the water. Chan notices and frowns softly. “You're okay?” he asks quietly, only for them to hear.

“Yeah, just not really hungry,” he lies with a brave smile. He subconsciously pulls at his shirt, trying to mask the softness that settled around his middle. Minho catches himself searching for signs of judgment in the eyes of his friends whenever they look at him. The mere possibility of them thinking ill of him makes him sick to the core.

Minho’s struggle with his self-image continues long after the breakfast table has been cleared and the last jokes have faded into the background. The comments about his cheeks, meant lightly, linger in his mind like echoes in a hollow room. Minho can't shake off the heavy blanket of insecurity that has settled over him.

He finds himself back in front of the mirror again and swallows hard, meeting his reflection. His thighs look thicker than usually, his arms feel soft and he hesitantly pinches his cheeks. Tears well up in his eyes as he crawls back into bed and curls up beneath the blanket.

A gentle knock at the door startles him and only seconds later Chan's inside. “Hey, kitten,” he says softly. “Want some cuddles?”

“Not really,” he lies, his whole body craving to be held by Channie.

“Oh,” Chan nods and chews on his lower lip. “You're okay?”

“Yeah.” Another lie.

“...Are we okay?” he asks timidly, the sound feeling like a punch to the stomach for Minho.

“Yeah, we're okay,” he whispers and can tell his boyfriend's relaxing. “I just need some space, I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Chan assures him. “You know where to find me if you need something.”

“Mhm,” he hums softly and curls up further into himself. “Channie?” he asks, but it's too late as he's already gone. “I love you,” he whispers, hot tears pooling in his eyes.

The room feels too large, too empty as Minho buries himself deeper under the covers, his heart aching with a pain that seems to seep into his bones. The silence left in Chan’s wake is deafening, and Minho is left alone with his swirling thoughts and escalating fears. The words of comfort he longs to hear are absent, replaced by the echoes of his own insecurities that replay in his mind like a broken record.

The day drags on painfully slow. Minho spends hours just lying there, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his mind replaying every moment that morning when he felt judged, whether it was real or imagined. The light-hearted comments at breakfast, the shared laughter—all of it now feels like subtle digs at his changing appearance.

As the sun begins to set, painting the room with hues of orange and pink, Minho realizes he can't stay hidden forever. He needs to face his fears, his friends, and most importantly, Chan. Pulling himself from the bed, he washes his face, avoiding his reflection in the mirror, not ready to face himself just yet.

Walking into the living room, he finds Chan there, lost in a book. The sight of him, so relaxed and content, stirs a mix of emotions in Minho—envy, longing, and love. Chan looks up, his expression changing instantly from calm to concerned as he takes in Minho’s appearance.

“Hey,” Chan says softly, setting his book aside. “You look like you could use this more than I could,” he gestures to the spot next to him on the couch.

Minho hesitates, but the inviting warmth in Chan’s eyes is too much to resist. He sits beside Chan, maintaining a small gap between them, a physical manifestation of the emotional distance he feels.

Chan respects the space for a moment, then speaks. “Minho, talk to me. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together.”

“I can't,” he shakes his head.

“Why?” Chan asks patiently.

“I…I've changed,” he says, avoiding Chan's confused look.

“Changed?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

Minho’s eyes fill with tears and Chan moves closer, bridging the gap between them. “We all change, Minho. It’s part of life. But those changes don’t define us. They’re just... part of our story. And my story isn’t complete without you in it,” he tries his best, not really knowing the true issue at hand.

The simplicity and truth of Chan’s words wash over Minho, bringing a sense of peace he hasn’t felt in days. He leans into Chan, resting his head on Chan’s shoulder, allowing himself to feel the support and love he’s been denying himself.

“I’m sorry I’ve been pushing you away,” Minho murmurs.

Chan wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer. “It’s okay. I’m here, whenever you’re ready.”

They sit in silence, watching the sun dip below the horizon, the sky a canvas of colors that slowly fade into twilight.

On a breezy afternoon, Minho and the others arrive at the television studio, ready for their guest appearance on a popular show that was famous for putting celebrities on the spot with unexpectedly personal questions. The friendship among the group is evident as they joke and laugh, trying to ease their nerves before facing the unpredictable host and live audience.

As the show begins, the host greets them warmly, his booming voice setting a lively tone. The studio is abuzz with excitement, fans cheering as the camera showcases each member's face. The host begins with light, easy questions about recent projects and upcoming plans, allowing the group to settle in and get comfortable with the format.

However, the atmosphere shifts as the host transitions to more personal inquiries, a segment known for revealing responses and creating memorable TV moments. The questions range from their living habits to romantic lives, pushing the boundaries of what they usually shared publicly.

They handle the questions with humor and grace, skillfully navigating the trickier topics. But the tension ratchets up when the host turns the conversation toward a lighter, yet subtly challenging question, “Who among you would you say is the cutest?”

Instantly, the members burst into laughter, playfully pointing at Minho. “Definitely Minho,” Chan declares, his statement echoed by nods and chuckles from the others.”But, I'm biased,” he winks at Minho who flashes him a shy smile.

“Yes, have you seen his cheeks? Absolutely pinchable!” Felix adds, his comment drawing laughter from the audience.

Seungmin chimes in, his tone teasing but affectionate, “And don’t get us started on his soft tummy and those thick thighs, he’s the cutest!”

“Minho's one of the best people to cuddle with,” Jisung agrees.

While the audience find these comments amusing, laughing and clapping at the banter, Minho forces a smile, feeling a familiar sting of insecurity. His cheeks burn, not from flattery, but from embarrassment. Though he knows his members meant no harm, the focus on his physical attributes in such a public setting reignited the deep-seated insecurities about his body image.

The host, sensing a hit with the audience, decides to dig deeper. “Oh, really? That sounds adorable! Minho, how do you feel about being the ‘cutest’ in such a... unique way?”

Minho clears his throat, searching for the right words. “I guess it’s nice to be appreciated,” he replies, his voice slightly strained, hoping to steer the conversation away from his body.

The show continues, with other members discussing their own quirks and stories, but Minho grows quieter. He laughs at the right moments and answers when spoken to, but his responses are brief, his mind replaying the earlier comments.

After the recording ends and the cameras stops rolling, the group retreats to their dressing room. Minho is unusually silent, keeping his distance. Chan notices Minho’s subdued mood and follows him to a corner of the room.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chan asks gently, concern evident in his voice.

Minho sighs, the weight of his emotions visible. “I don’t know, Chan. I just felt really put on the spot out there.”

Chan nods, his expression understanding. “I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have drawn attention to you like that. I just worried that if I didn't say my boyfriend's the cutest people would think we'd be fighting.”

“I know, love,” he sighs softly. “I wasn't talking about you.”

“Oh, you meant the others? When they said why you're cute?” he asks and Minho nods slowly. “But they have a point, you know? Your cheeks are so cute and I love how they get so adorably squishy when you smile. I love your thighs, I don't think we have to talk about that. And yeah, your stomach got so soft, it's adorable,” Chan says and Minho blinks at him timidly.

“So…you agree with them?” he asks quietly and Chan glances through the room, distracted by a sudden shout.

He doesn't see the desperation in Minho's eyes as he answers. “Yeah, I mean, you're cute and I love all that about you,” he says, not seeing Minho's face fall, anxiety clouding his features.

“Yeah, I - uhm - I'll be back,” he stammers, quickly walking to the bathroom, barely noticing Chan scolding two of their friends. Shit. His own boyfriend thinks of him like that as well.

Minho rushes to the sanctuary of the bathroom, the cool tile against his skin grounding him as he leans against the sink. His heart races, a chaotic drumbeat echoing the turmoil in his mind. Chan's words replay over and over, each repetition a sharp twist of the knife of insecurity that had already dug deep into his self-esteem.

Inside the small, dimly lit room, Minho stares into the mirror, his eyes tracing the contours of his face and body that Chan had described with such casual affection. But where Chan sees cuteness, Minho sees only flaws magnified by his own harsh judgment and now, seemingly confirmed by the person whose opinion matters most. The disparity between how he views himself and how Chan claims to view him creates nothing but doubt in his heart.

Trying to stifle the rising panic, Minho takes deep breaths, attempting to focus on the reality of the situation rather than the distorted thoughts fueled by his insecurities. He tells himself that Chan loves him, that his words were meant in fondness, not critique. But the warmth that should have accompanied such assurances feels cold and distant now.

After several minutes alone, battling his inner demons, Minho washes his face, the cold water a sharp wake-up call to the emotions he needed to manage before facing the others again. With a final glance at his reflection, he squares his shoulders and steps out, attempting to mask the inner fight with a calm demeanor.

Back in the dressing room, the atmosphere had shifted. The earlier craziness had been replaced by calmness as the members sensed the tension. Chan immediately notices Minho’s return, his expression one of concern mixed with confusion.

“Minho, are you okay?” Chan approaches, reaching out but stopping short of touching, as if unsure whether his comfort is welcome.

Minho nods, not trusting his voice. His mind is still racing, not just from the comments on the show, but now more painfully from Chan’s unintentional confirmation of those.

“I’m sorry if what I said upset you. I didn’t mean it to sound the way it did,” Chan said earnestly, his eyes searching Minho’s for forgiveness.

Minho manages a small smile, appreciating the apology but still feeling the sting. “It’s not just you,” he admits. “It’s hearing it said out loud, on TV, and then... it just feels like everyone sees me that way.”

Chan’s face softens. “Minho, to me, and to all of us, you’re perfect. And if anything we say makes you feel less than amazing, then we need to fix that, because you deserve to feel loved and secure.”

Chan sounds sincere, and Minho feels a warmth begin to break the icy hold of his fear around his heart. “Thanks, Chan. I just need some time to process this, I think.”

“Of course,” Chan agrees, giving him space. “We’re all here for you, whenever you’re ready.”

One morning, a few days later, Minho wakes up earlier than usual, his sleep restless and disturbed by thoughts of dissatisfaction with his physical self. The mirror is no kinder at dawn than at any other time, reflecting back a version of himself he still struggles to accept. With a determined breath, he decides to take a more active approach. He knows that Chan has always maintained a consistent workout routine, even during their break, his discipline unwavering.

Minho walks quietly into the kitchen where Chan is already up, probably preparing for his morning jog. The kitchen smells of coffee, and the early light filters in softly through the curtains. Chan, noticing Minho’s early appearance, looks up with a smile that’s both questioning and welcoming.

“Morning,” Minho starts, his voice a little more than a whisper. “Can we talk?”

“Of course, what’s up?” Chan nods, focusing fully on him.

Minho takes a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking... I want to start working out again. Seriously. And I was wondering if... if you could help me? Maybe go to the gym together?” His voice is hopeful yet tense, the weight of his request more significant than the words might suggest.

Chan’s response is immediate and supportive as always. “Sure, kitten. I’d love to help you out. When do you want to start?”

“Maybe today?” Minho suggests, a bit hastily, driven by a surge of motivation that he fears might dissolve if given too much time to think.

“Today it is,” Chan agrees with a nod, his tone encouraging. “We’ll take it easy, start slow, and find a pace that feels right for you.”

The decision made, Minho feels a brief flicker of relief, quickly followed by anxiety. He’s committed now, no turning back.

By the time they arrive at the gym, Minho’s as excited as nervous. It's been ages since he joined Channie here. Chan leads the way, guiding Minho through the initial stretches and warm-up routines.

They start on some light cardio, and Chan keeps the conversation light, sharing stupid little stories and ensuring Minho’s mind is engaged and his body correctly paced. But as they move on to weight training, Minho, feeling a rush of determination, begins to push himself harder. He adds more weight than Chan advises, his thoughts fixated on erasing the softness that has become his focus of discontent.

“Take it slow, Min. There’s no rush,” Chan tries, noting the strain on Minho’s face.

“I’m okay,” Minho insists, gritting his teeth as he lifts, the muscles in his arms trembling with the effort.

But the desire to see immediate change, to regain some control over his body, drives him to ignore the signs of fatigue that begin to creep up on him. He moves from one exercise to the next, increasing the intensity despite Chan’s growing concerns.

“Minho, that’s enough,” Chan finally steps in firmly after Minho bypasses his recommended weights yet again. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Minho’s next lift is shaky; his arms quiver violently as he tries to bench press more than he's handled in months. As he struggles to lift, a wave of dizziness washes over him. The room tilts, his vision blurs, and suddenly, the weight feels like it doubles. Chan reacts quickly, stepping in to re-rack the weights, but Minho’s strength gives out. He collapses onto the bench, his breath ragged, his body surrendering to the exhaustion and strain.

Chan is immediately by his side, his voice laced with worry. “Minho! Are you okay? Talk to me, baby.”

Lying on the bench, Minho’s breaths come fast and hard. He closes his eyes, fighting the nausea and the embarrassment that floods through him. “I... I'm sorry,” he manages to say, his voice weak.

“We need to get you checked out,” Chan insists, but Minho shakes his head.

“Just... just give me a minute,” he pleads, needing a moment to gather himself.

Chan nods, visibly concerned, and sits down next to him, offering silent support. Minho’s breathing gradually slows, and the dizziness subsides, leaving behind a sobering realization of his limits.

After a few minutes, Minho sits up, his body still echoing with the aftermath of his collapse. “I’m sorry, Chan. I just wanted to... I don’t know what I wanted.”

Chan’s response is gentle but firm. “You don’t have to push yourself to prove anything, Minho. It’s okay to take time, to build back up at a pace that’s healthy. Let’s just focus on that, okay?” Minho's eyes brim with tears and before he can stop himself a sob ripples through his chest. Chan looks up in shock, surging forward and pulling him into a tight hug. “No, baby, I'm sorry, it's okay. I'm not mad,” he rambles worriedly, holding him tight.

“I'm sorry,” Minho sobs and Chan's not quite sure what he's apologizing for.

“Shh, I got you, Minnie,” he promises soothingly, kissing his hair. “I'm here, baby.”

“I-I lied,” he admits. “I said I'm fine but I'm so not fine,” he tells him through tears.

“What's wrong, hm? You can tell me,” Chan encourages him gently.

“I just… I feel so out of place in my own body. Every comment, every look—it feels like a critique. I thought if I pushed hard enough today, if I could just start looking the way I used to, maybe I’d feel better about myself. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so… so disgusting,” Minho confesses, his voice breaking under the weight of his insecurities.

Chan tightens his embrace, his heart aching at Minho’s words. “Minnie, you’re not disgusting. You’re not any of the negative things you think about yourself. I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling this way, and I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like you need to change anything about yourself. I love you, just the way you are, always.”

They sit in silence for a while, Chan holding Minho as he cries, letting out all the pent-up emotions he had been holding back. Gradually, Minho's sobs subside, and he feels a sense of relief having shared his deepest fears with Chan.

“Thank you,” Minho whispers, feeling a bit lighter. “I guess I’ve been so scared of not meeting everyone’s expectations, including my own, that I’ve been pushing myself too hard.”

Chan nods, helping Minho to stand up. “Let’s take things slow, okay? We’ll work on a plan that feels good for you, no rush or unrealistic goals. And we'll focus on how you feel, not just how you look. Your health, both mental and physical, is what’s most important.”

Minho nods, feeling grateful for Chan’s understanding and support. They decide to leave the gym for the day, focusing instead on recovery and rest.

Gradually, Minho’s perception begins to shift. The mirror no longer feels like an enemy, but a tool to observe and appreciate the natural evolution of his body. The softness he once viewed with disdain became a sign of the life he had lived, the meals enjoyed with friends, the nights spent curled up with Chan, safe and loved.

Their journey wasn’t without its setbacks. There were days when old insecurities crept back, whispering unwelcome thoughts into Minho’s mind. But now, armed with new coping strategies and supported by Chan’s unwavering love, Minho faced each challenge with a resilience that grew stronger over time.

Through it all, Minho’s relationship with his body transformed. It became less about what he saw in the mirror and more about what he felt within. With Chan by his side, he rediscovered confidence, not just in his physical self, but in his emotional and mental resilience.

One evening, as they are getting ready for bed, Minho stands in front of the mirror again. This time, however, the reflection he sees is different. Not because his body had changed significantly, but because his perception had.

“I’m okay with this,” Minho says softly, tracing the same curves and edges he used to criticize. Chan, standing behind him, wraps his arms around Minho’s waist and rests his chin on Minho’s shoulder.

“You’re more than okay; you’re amazing,” Chan whispers, kissing Minho’s cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

Minho leans back into Chan’s embrace, a smile spreading across his face. For the first time in a long time, he believes those words. He was learning to love himself again, and with Chan by his side, he felt unstoppable, ready to face whatever challenges came next, knowing he was enough, exactly as he was. “I think I’m finally starting to feel like myself again,” he murmurs.

Chan squeezes his hand, a silent vow echoing in the simple gesture. “I always see you, Minho. And I always love who I see.”

In the end, Minho realized that the journey to self-acceptance wasn’t about returning to who he was before but about embracing who he was now and who he was becoming. Each day brought new challenges, but also new opportunities to love himself a little more, supported by Chan’s love, which remained constant like the horizon—always present, no matter the changes in the landscape.

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@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @skzoologist @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143 @sapphirewaves

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