#I can't imagine he cares that much for that

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine ex-husband Gojo doing things for his new love interests that you begged him for while you were married.

After a joint meeting between the sister schools, you overheard Suguru asking him who he was texting during the meeting.

Satoru replied, "Just letting my date know I'll be a bit late tonight since we ran long here. Todo can yap, huh?"

"Seriously!" Their voices faded as they walked down the hall.

You stood just outside the meeting room watching the corner the disappeared around. If you had to pinpoint the number one reason your marriage failed - more than clan pressure, more than the strain of being young parents, more than back to back to back missions - it would be the fact that Satoru can't communicate for shit.

Part of it wasn't his fault. His brain just didn't work like that. An inconvenient side effect of limitless is that everything makes sense in your head, but it's hard for a person with the gift to explain their thoughts to others.

So the no-call, no-shows to dinners was technically a side effect of limitless, as was his inability to articulate his feelings like an adult or the fact that he would just do things without even telling you there was a problem in the first place.

"Quit doing that with your face, brat." Sukuna emerges from the meeting room. He's out of his Ryomen form at the moment, as he usually is during meetings so that he can actually fit in his chair. "How long are you gonna let what he does affect you?"

"It doesn't!" you insist.

Sukuna rolls his eyes. "If that helps you sleep at night."

Imagine reminding yourself that you can't be mad at him.

You're seeing other people now, too. Hell, you've been divorced for over a decade, it's insanity that you care at all.

It's just. You never doubted his love for you. Not for a second, not even now that your marriage failed and you largely raised your son on your own.

"Mom?"

Maybe your divorce was his motivation to be better. You're not sure. But if he's capable of change, capable of being attentive and communicative, why couldn't he change for you all those years ago?

"Mom."

Could it be that you were his childhood companion and he loved you, but he was never in love with you? Was his love for you less than your love for him?

You hardly notice your son calling out to you until he springs into action. "Mom!" Sen nudges you away from the stove to turn of the burner. When did smoke fill the kitchen? The roux you were trying to make was burnt to a crisp, stuck to the pan and emanating an unpleasant smell.

Sen gently pries your hands off the handle and drops the ruined pan in the sink to soak. Then he makes sure the burner's off before turning to you with a conflicted expression.

He may have inherited a hybrid of both your and Satoru's personal brands of emotional stuntedness, but he could put two and two together between how distracted you've been and the rumors of Satoru dating again - What with it being huge news among jujutsu society (aka power hungry clans with eligible daughters.) Your son had his own complicated feelings regarding his father and as much as he'd prefer Satoru stay away from you, it hurt him to see you like this.

Though, watching you try to keep a stiff upper lip for his sake during the divorce is the reason he doesn't want his father anywhere near you.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." You wipe your hands on a dish towel. "I wasn't paying attention. Hang tight while I make you something else."

He could kill Satoru right now. But you wouldn't like that, so he won't.

"Mama, I--" He shuts his mouth. You've been protecting him from the details of the divorce his whole life. What did he know about comforting you? But while he may not have been able to protect you then, he can sure as hell try now.

"Mama, why don't I take you out to dinner? My treat."

Imagine that Sen decides he needs to stop having ideas.

He brought you to a local okonomiyaki that you've been going to since he was little to the point where the owners knew you well and liked to give you little extras from the kitchen. Today's treat was a side of pickled radish.

It was your happy little hideaway. Away from jujutsu and clans and curses and your broken home.

Sen insisted on cooking the okonomiyaki for you, saying that, "My treats means I'll take care of everything!" The weak smile you gave him made his heart soar.

You giggle while he jokes around and tells you about school like how Hikari fell asleep for 45 minutes out of an hour long test and still got a better score than him. Hearing about your son and his happy school days always made you feel better.

Sen was ready to give himself a pat on the back for cheering you up when he hears the front bell jungle and a woman's laughter carries over.

"Fancy places are like that, though!" the woman laughs. "They give a bite of food per plate."

Then a familiar voice replies, "Yeah, but it was good, wasn't it? And now we get to fill up at a cute place like this."

Even though he's the one facing the door and not you, the look on your face tells Sen all he needs to know. What breaks his heart is that you've sunk lower into your seat to make yourself smaller.

Sen could kill his father right now.

Hooray, angst!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[itachiiwrites]

Love me, love me, love me, love me more!

Pairing: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings and Content: MDNI (I'll haunt you, seriously), yandere themes, dubious consent, stalking, obsession, murder, gore, sex, delusional satoru, he's unhinged and does not care about consequences as usual, creampies (lots), gojo has a breeding kink, masturbation, perv gojo, sex, fingering. Dead dove.

Plot : Megumi has a new nanny and Satoru is so so..lovesick.

Yandere!Satoru knew he fumbled the moment he fell in love with Megumi's nanny. He had hired you because he couldn't provide for the time and sufficient emotional care that a second grader needed to be a normal person. After all that the boy went through and then being under care of someone like him, Satoru didn't think that his Gumi-chan would ever be normal.

But then he met you, you were everything he was not. Gojo Satoru was impulsive, eccentric, the strongest, he shone so brightly that the sun was put to shame. And you were so normal, so mundane, you simply seemed to blend in with everyone like a lovely, plain chrysanthemum that could mix in with every bouquet.

there was truly nothing special about you in comparison to him.

Perhaps that was why he found you so beautiful. You weren't complicated, you were too simple and perhaps this absence of simplicity was what made his fast paced, glorious life so lack luster.

He knew he had to have you.

One thing you realised about Yandere!Satoru is that, he is a child in a grown man's body. You had seen him being much more petulant than Megumi, but with time your surmises around him had reduced and your edges had softened. You would see the flash of tiredness in his eyes sometimes, something about those azures in those moments would tell you a piece of his story. You didn't ask a lot but you knew. He was tired.

Being a full-time nanny to Megumi also meant, keeping meal preps ready. It had become a habit to put together a few extras after noticing that Gojo would often make it a point to eat them. He probably ate it, dead in the night when he was back from his daily missions. No one witnessed his joy of eating a homecooked meal at 3AM.

Yandere!Satoru who would take the advantage of your softened demeanor towards him and flirt with you shamelessly even after seeing the ring adorned on your pretty little finger. He kept affirming to himself that it wasn't real and whatever he would imagine, would materialize to be true.

"You do a terrific job, looking after Megumi you know?" He'd muse, in the usual teasing tone of his as his hand trails to your chin, gently tipping your head up so you'd look into his eyes and his eyes only, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"I can't help but wonder if there is room in your heart for me too~"

But then his playful demeanor would drop away when his eyes would fall onto that pathetic, miserly looking gold band after you'd tell him to stop flirting with you with finality in your tone. That ring wasn't even high in carats, it was an alloy and yet you would it wear it such pride. It would tug at his heartstrings, his darling deserved so much better.

"I see, didn't realize that, miss.." He lied through his teeth with such insouciance and a smirk, masking his disappointment as if even a petite speck on your arm would be amiss with his six eyes

Yandere!Satoru, who was never religious but started obsessively manifesting you after learning about your husband. What a hassle. Why couldn't he just have you, like everything else in his life?

Yandere!Satoru who would think of you riding him to tears, closing his eyes to conjure the lewd image of your tits bouncing as he fucked you upward, anchoring his large hands on your waist. All while zestfully fisting his cock, wrapped like a gift with your cute pink panties that he quite subtly stole when you were staying over to care for Megumi for a few days because he had to fly somewhere else to tackle off a special grade curse, substituted for the warmth of your velvety walls. For now.

Yandere!Satoru who knew you had no clue that he teleported from the location far away just to steal your panties.

Yandere!Satoru who also knew that you had no idea that he had tapped in your phone, having his hawking watch over who you texted and talked to.

Yandere!Satoru who couldn't be nonchalant anymore the minute he saw you texting your husband as you watched over Megumi, on how badly you wanted a baby after being a nanny to the young boy. That was his job, you were his, afterall.

Yandere!Satoru who felt angry and stupid because manifesting you didn't work. He knew he could never trust the higher powers with the people he loved so he took the matter in his own hands.

Yandere!Satoru who stood over your husband's dead body, ripped to shreds when you returned home. The worries of your husband not texting you back for hours now washed with horror and pain.

His handsome, angelic face was unnervingly calm and composed, his blue eyes amalgamated with mania and hollowness while he held her husband's filthy heart in his bloodied hands, a scowl of disgust washing over his face as he looked at the organ, darting his eyes at you almost pitifully, crushing it in a glimpse before walking to you.

"What a shame..your husband was quite bothersome, wouldn't you say? I had to take out the trash, y'know..got sick of him getting in the way" He'd speak in a smooth, saccharinely affectionate tone that you knew was empty. He ignored the shock laced on your face, the paleness of your skin, the fear in your eyes and your flinch which he found oh so..adorable, as he caressed your cheek with the strong metallic scent of crimson lingering.

"Let's play a game!" He brightly smiled, clapping his hands together which made you furrow your brows, a dry gulp going down your throat. The room only filled with the momentary sounds of his footsteps and your shaky, palpable breathing.

"The game is...name things you love about Gojo Satoru!!" He chimed, so happily that it sent a shiver down your spine, insinuating nausea.

"S-stay away..."

He frowned, titling his head as his empty eyes bored into yours.

"Wrong answer darling..the answer is Satoru, isn't it..?" He leaned in, cupping your face and tenderly kissing your lips.

Yandere!Satoru who teleported you two immediately to his estate as he pulled away from the kiss, your back hitting the silk sheets that screamed luxury.

Yandere!Satoru who would see you giving in to his gentle kisses all over your body, who'd feel your pulsating guilt and shame in your eyes while your pussy pulsated with pleasure having his fingers in your gushing cunt knuckles deep.

"Why did you say no to me, hm..? You're milking my fingers baby..fuuuck...I love you so much.." He whispered while his face nuzzled into your cheek. His hot breath mingled with phrases of love felt so gross, so filthy, so sinful but you saw yourself liking it, even after seeing your husband in such a state.

Yandere!Satoru, who'd dump his cum again in your oozing pussy even when his cock felt raw after kissing your cervix so many times, painting it white. Now finally pulling out with a squelch, he immediately replaced his two thick fingers to push his load back in.

"You're gonna be such a pretty mama baby..I will make your wish come true.."

©𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

Plagiarism not authorised. Please consider reblogging and liking if you enjoyed the content :)

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[onlygarden]

[quietly, baby] - yang jungwon

genre: smut

description: when you bring jungwon into the fitting room as you try on the lingerie he chose for you, he shows his appreciation through more than just words. jungwon x female reader, unprotected sex, public sex (but it's in a fitting room), dom jungwon, oral sex (male receiving), jungwon just can't wait

a/n: i've had this idea for a while and it's FINALLY come to fruition. i hope you all enjoy it just as much as i did while writing it (and imagining it lmao). at first, i planned to only do oral sex but i just couldn't resist adding more hehe. again, i hope this is an enjoyable read !!!

the delicate sound of the last of your clothing falling into a heap on the floor of the fitting room nearly escapes jungwon’s ears. every fragment of his focus was captivated by the event being painted before him. from his position, settled upon the small bench of the modestly confined space, it seemed as though he only just began to relax. the sight of you — bearing nothing aside from your undergarments, slipping sinfully into the black silk he chose for you — acted as his captor. any remnants of relaxation sailed helplessly away from his body; a certain tension now resides in each of his muscles, igniting his body with a need which can only be met by you. 

“how does this look, baby? do you like it?” you ask casually, a hopeful smile decorating your face. 

the question, seemingly simple enough, lingers in jungwon’s mind for a moment. he swallows, a desperate attempt to soothe the sudden spell of dryness in his throat. goodness, of course he likes it. no composition of words in all of existence can ever truly describe just how much he ‘likes’ it.  

he exhales softly, hoping to unwind his taut muscles even a fraction. “baby… you look fucking hot,” he tells you, freely betraying the indecency of his thoughts. 

“can i touch you?” he immediately follows up, hardly giving you enough time to react to the boldness of his first statement.   

an almost inaudible gasp drifts from your lips, and a pang of insistent arousal runs through your body from the sight of his desperation and shamelessness alone. 

much too impatient for a blatant answer, jungwon stands up, breaching the hardly acknowledgeable distance between the two of you. his fingers travel wispily along the curve of your waist, and settle in a hard, possessive grip on your hips. he pulls your body towards his, his hands now roaming the silk of your lingerie slip in a feverish manner.

“just remember baby… we’re in public,” you remind him, a breathless attempt to reign in his barely-contained desire. 

that’s right — public. in jungwon’s erotically corrupted mind, the two of you were concealed enough. surely, no one would happen to overhear if he decided to cage you against the wall and drive himself deep inside of you with feral intensity. surely, the both of you can maintain enough control to hold in any moans, gasps, or grunts. more importantly, however, jungwon didn’t even care. 

he leans down to kiss you without a moment of hesitation, his lips melding and dancing with yours in a flurry of silkiness and roughness. as you moan softly in response to the feeling of his lips and his body against yours, he walks you backwards until he’s pressing you against the wall. he’s surely got you now.

all of your adamant concerns with the risk of nearby shoppers or staff hearing the two of you seemed so trivial now — the way jungwon’s hands slid down your body to grope the soft flesh of your ass snatched any importance away from anything else. in this moment, all your mind could helplessly muster was a need for the delicious stretch that only jungwon could provide you with. you wanted to give your body to him in any manner you could to please him, too. 

“fuck, baby… you’re making me so hard,” he says, his lips still brushing against yours as he speaks. 

god, his hard cock always felt so divine when his body was pressed up against yours. the sensation alone is more than enough to ignite your body with an undeniable impulse to urge streams of cum from him.

you wordlessly coerce him into changing positions with you, his body now pressed against the wall as your lips begin to place kisses down his neck. jungwon’s head tilts back in a subtle thud against the wall behind him as a quiet, throaty moan drifts past his lusciously plush lips. his hands squeeze your ass, his body subconsciously giving into all impulses and doing little to hide the desperate ache in his cock.  

your hands move to his pants, settling upon his belt and unbuckling it with haste. your eyes were hungrily fixed on the way his cock strained impatiently against the fabric. jungwon’s heavy eyes immediately widen as you fall to your knees in front of him, dragging his pants and boxers down in tandem. 

“baby, are you going to…?” his voice trails off in a sharp inhale as you wrap your hand around his cock and lick up his underside. 

“fuck, baby…” he breathes out quietly, a shudder running ruthlessly through his body. 

you lean up just enough to spit on his cock, beginning to stroke him languidly with the lubrication. as you envelop him in your mouth, jungwon’s hands rest tightly in your hair, his cock throbbing so delectably in the back of your throat as it constricts around him. 

“baby, oh god, so fucking good…” he moans softly, his hips thrusting subtly into your mouth. 

you begin to bob along his length, moving up and down so wickedly, your hand twisting around him in a dizzying combination. 

a low, narrowly restrained moan escapes his parted lips, his eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted in the heavenly pleasure your mouth is providing him with.

his chest heaves gently, his fingers massage your scalp eagerly, and his body can no longer brawl with the compulsion to thrust into your mouth once more. 

“baby… just like that,” he manages, his voice helplessly strained with pleasure. 

as your movements gain speed, and your free hand wanders up to fondle his balls, jungwon’s hips jerk forward in an irresistible itch for more. his cock throbs fervently against the wet silkiness of your tongue, and his stomach begins to ripple delicately as shivers of pleasure force through his body. 

“yes, oh god, yes…” he utters in a breathy, strangled moan. in hesitant defiance of the unspeakable bliss rising within him, he pulls your mouth from his length. jungwon would much prefer to plunge himself uninhibitedly within the silky, glossy, indescribably wet palace of your pussy. 

“stand up, baby. i wanna destroy your tight little pussy,” he throws at you. 

the raspy desperation and authority in his voice commands your body to oblige, and you rise to your feet. he pushes you toward the wall, pulling your hips back towards him just enough to allow him to enter you. he pulls your panties down with the same intentions — and the same haste — and he slides his hand under the silky fabric of your slip, effectively unveiling your glistening pussy. 

jungwon’s eyes darken to an intense shade at the sight of your pussy, soaking wet, begging to be stretched and obliterated. “god, baby… you’re so fucking wet,” he says lowly, his hand already wrapped around his shaft, sliding his cockhead teasingly between your folds. 

as you shiver pitifully at such a modest sensation, jungwon forces himself into you. he sinks rapidly into the slick, velvety confines and his cock demands you open as he buries himself to the hilt.

“mmm… fuck, baby. gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t see straight,” he mutters, his words laced with blinding pleasure. as his cock begins to pound you tenderly, assessing just how pronounced the sounds of your gasps and your pussy would be, his hand travels fiercely along the silk decorating your back, eventually settling in yet another harsh grip on your hip. 

a prominent smack echoes through the tight walls of the fitting room as jungwon’s hand meets the flesh of your ass. as rapidly as the sound reaches your ears, the pace of jungwon’s thrusts quicken with drastic measure, and he absolutely succumbs to the desire to pummel you into a daze. 

jungwon’s thrusts are erratic, his cock plowing in and out of you wildly, leaving your body feeble, staggered, and as good as helpless.

you try, god, you try to keep your moans breathy and suppressed, but the way jungwon’s cock mishandled and tortured your insides was much too sweet to rein in. your fervent, hardly controlled, and stuttered moans and whimpers chime lewdly within the confined space, resonating deeply in jungwon’s pistoning cock. he reluctantly stifles the sounds of your moans with his hand, hating to mute such an enthralling reaction to the way his cock tore through you.

“mmm, baby… you like that?” he asks crudely, knowing the answer all too familiarly.

the indescribable drag of his length along your walls, the utterly enticing sound of his muffled grunts and quiet whines, the way his fingers dig into your hips in an urgent declaration of ownership — it all sends each of your senses and nerves spiraling defenselessly into an electrifying pool of delight beyond description. 

as jungwon frantically observes the evidence of your orgasm — your softened cries vibrating against his hand, your body shuddering under the intensity of the pleasure, your pussy convulsing and spasming around him — his cock begins to pulse within you. 

“oh god, gonna fill you up so good- fuck, fuck, fuck!”

he spills freely inside you, streams of his cum flooding your pussy abundantly, his cock buried as deep as your battered pussy would allow. a gentle shudder travels through him from the magnitude of the pleasure you so willingly provided, and he loosens his rigid grasp on your hips. 

“you think anyone heard?” he asks playfully, his deep, short breaths tangling with your own.

a gentle laugh escapes him as you immediately nod, and he begins to withdraw his cock from you, thoroughly enjoying the squelches he receives in return.

neither of you are quite ready to return to the store, reluctant to face the impending shame.

but in truth — jungwon doesn’t really care.

[silverzoomies]

Angels

peter maximoff x reader

warnings: peter being a goober, he watches porn for like half a second, it's highkey a stranger things crossover, my dialogue is goofy as hell

word count: 5,240

a/n: had a lot of fun with this one !! a while back, my buddy @quickandsilvers (now deactivated, and i can't find their new acc) requested a fic where he works in a video store and makes a fool of himself. i think i strayed from their prompt a lot, but i hope they don't mind. sorry about the stranger things crossover !! it happened naturally while writing it, and i couldn't stop thinking about steve and peter interacting. lol

Like a responsible adult, Peter spent the span of an entire month “studying” for his GED final. His rapid fire attention span made focusing a tough feat, even past his years of high school age hyperactivity. Which was the very reason he had to study so friggin hard for his GED in the first place. Peter never graduated high school. And because he never graduated high school, he didn’t really know what real studying was. “Studying” for him mostly entailed speed reading, once or twice over. Before he called it quits and bolted away to do…Peter stuff.

He was honestly really proud of himself for sticking it out, though. Much to his mother’s most pleasant surprise. Peter carried a perfect attendance streak through all his classes. A wildly stark contrast to his self proclaimed, unmatched ditch streak back in high school. In hindsight, that wasn’t something worth boasting about.

But all his hard work and bonafide effort proved supremely disappointing…when he flunked the final anyway.

Peter’s chest ached, as though someone tore his heart out, stomped on it, then double tapped for good measure. In a fit of unbridled frustration, Peter raced across the entire planet to burn out his rage. His blood boiled hot in his veins. After circling the globe about a gajillion times, he finally skidded to a stop. Somewhere in Indiana.

His clothes were all tattered and covered in holes. Burned from supersonic force. The soles of his favorite shoes turned to ash, crying smoke like a bonfire. Painful blisters littered his feet. But in his defeated haze, he couldn’t find the energy to care. Barefoot and blistered, Peter walked to the nearest payphone, his head tipped back in shame.

He could only imagine how devastated his mom would be.

It broke Peter’s heart, knowing he’d have to call her and ruin her day. After she promised to take him and his sisters out for a celebratory dinner. All you can eat Chinese! - she said. Being on the receiving end of bad news was one thing. But delivering said news to one’s mother - after an entire lifetime spent letting her down? That sucked unimaginably more.

At the payphone - after tossing his desecrated shoes in the trash - Peter hesitantly brought the handset to his ear. Deep breath in. Now, breathe out. He leaned against the glass of the phone booth. Over the line, his mother’s voice lost all liveliness. And a moment later, Wanda took over instead, sounding majorly peeved off. She threw all kinds of accusations at him - Did you even try, Piet? I thought you were taking this seriously! You said you studied! You totally dashed mom’s hopes!

Peter rolled his finger through one of the holes in his Queen shirt. Mannnn. Friggin sucks. He got that one from the totally sick Hot Space Tour. He even took Wanda with him, and they had the most righteous time. With her so disappointed on the phone like this, it hurt to recall any fond memories. Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. He tried cracking a half-assed joke to lighten the mood.

“Soooooo…no Chinese tonight then?”

Yeah, nah. Sis didn’t take to that one too well. Peter hated arguing with her, but the two spat back and forth for about five minutes. Peter bumped his head against the glass as his stress ran up to mach ten. Gathering whatever patience he had left - a microscopic amount, at this point - he apologized, told his sister he loved her, and hung up. Once he stepped outside of the phone booth, he heaved a long groan.

Peter’s fingers twitched at his sides. Taking a quick glance upward, he noticed a nearby video store. A Family Video, nestled in a strip mall next to an arcade. Narrowing his eyes, Peter chewed his lip in contemplation.

And he made a supremely stupid move.

A millenia passed since Peter gave into his klepto compulsions. Maybe old habits die hard, as they say.

At the Hawkins PD, the chief lingered nearby in a rickety, metal chair, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The night seemed to drag for eons, as Peter paced barefoot in restless circles…within the confines of a lonesome jail cell. Since Hawkins was such a small town, hardly any of the feds were familiar with the X-Men. Mutants were a rare commodity. They sooner thought Peter was a hobo the chief picked up off the street.

Come next morning, Peter got an earful from Chuck. Thankfully, the generous prof forgave Peter for his colossal fuck-ups. He even paid Peter’s bail. And while the speedster felt even more sick with guilt because of it; he was grateful he wouldn’t have to spend another second in nowhere town Indiana.

Tormentous boredom aside; for some reason, the place gave Peter the creeps.

Falling victim to his own compulsions proved a major setback on all fronts. After Chuck chewed Peter out over the phone, he broke even more bad news. Apparently, the Family Video manager made a major stink about Peter’s thievery. Even called in a complaint to Xavier’s school. The guy went so far as to blame mutants for their “dishonesty.” A completely baseless generalization. All because of some dumb knucklehead’s reckless behavior.

Chuck convinced the asshole to let Peter off the hook. Only if the speedster made up for it by working a summer’s job at Family Video. A short-term punishment. At least until Autumn, when Peter got another shot at his GED. The professor basically grounded Peter from X-Men stuff. Awesome. Heck, technically, he grounded him from the mansion altogether. Cool beans. Thumbs up. Hunky dory.

Hell no. Peter was an adult. Not a teenager who needed to be disciplined after disobeying papa’s orders. He didn’t even really have a papa. In fact, papa disappeared off the face of the planet just a few years back.

Peter digressed. Whatever, right? Grown men messed up all the time. So what if he made a few minor missteps on the road to personal development?

And he would’ve argued these points, had something in Chuck’s honest voice not guilted him into silence.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to wear a stupid vest or anything.

The sweltering hot month of June.

Quicksilver should be out kicking ass, causing trouble, stealing hearts (playing video games, tampering with tech, being a total nerd).

Instead, he found himself leaning on the counter of a Family Video register in Indiana.

Peter had never worked an everyman’s retail job in his life. And holy smokes, was it slow. The days ran slower than a sloth in cement shoes. At any given moment, Peter swore he was nanoseconds away from dying of boredom. Literally. Call him melodramatic, but the monotony of day-to-day living sucked the speedy soul out of him. Only a few weeks passed since he “joined the Family Video team.” But all he ever did was idle behind the counter like a chud, gorging on snacks and watching MTV.

Whenever the news reported another X-Men victory, achieved without the help of the team’s one and only speedster; Peter felt the urge to run around the globe again. All he wanted was to shake off his temperament until his legs gave out. But alas. His feet stayed planted on freshly mopped linoleum, in the confines of VHS rental hell.

On the flip side, at least his new shoes were still intact.

Peter spent his days doing mind-numbing activities like reorganizing shelves, sorting movies by genre, and mopping floors. Playing with the label maker was kinda fun. Totally not even a little boring. Nope. Peter never daydreamed some psycho might rob the place, just so he’d have an excuse to be Quicksilver again.

Why would he? When he could play with that sweet label maker.

Yawn.

Thankfully, he wasn’t completely alone. Not that he minded much either way. Solitude and Peter went together like Han Solo and Chewy. But another guy worked the same shift as Peter. Some dude named Steve, with great hair and a metric fuckton of pins all over his vest. He swore up and down, his friend Robin insisted he cover himself head to toe in them. Because something something “chicks totally dig a guy with accessories.”

Peter never met Robin, since her hours were all jacked up. But judging by the Rainbow Brite, Care Bear, and Garbage Pail Kids pins all over Steve’s vest; Peter knew she had to be pulling her pal’s leg.

Which…alright. Cool. He could respect that.

Steve was a decent enough guy and super chill to talk to. He got along great with the group of hellions who always came in, looking for nerdy flicks like Clash of the Titans. Peter once spent a whole afternoon debating Star Wars logistics with them; arguing whether or not Ewoks had any justifiable place in Return of the Jedi. But, come on, those fuzzballs were kinda cool.

And Peter refused to admit he had a few Ewok figures in his collection back in Westchester.

Neither Steve, nor his munchkins seemed to have any qualms about mutants. The only thing he ever bitched about was Peter’s effortless ability to stay in tip-top shape.

“It’s so bullshit, man.” He blatantly complained, “You can pig out on Twinkies all day and still look like that. What does your metabolism run on? Jet fuel?”

Peter’s beady eyes darted swiftly back and forth, across the pages of Lord of the Rings. One of Steve’s little minions gave the speedster a used copy. Worn at the edges. Barely held together by the spine. Peter hadn’t read a real book by choice since middle school. As he skimmed through it at a remarkable pace, he spoke through a creamy bite of Twinkie.

“Flux Capacitor.”

Shame. Sucks for Steve. The dude was obviously good looking. But he somehow fumbled his attempts at flirting with cute chicks. Not to mention, his opportunities came so few and far in between, with Peter there to steal the show. And while some small-town ladies had a tendency to scrunch their noses and sneer at the presence of a mutant - others recognized him as a hero. One of the X-Men. On the rare chance a cutie walked in with her besties following along; they sometimes whispered amongst each other.

"Isn’t he with the X-Men?” “Oh my god, he is!” “Which one is he?” “I think he’s the fast one.” “How fast is he though?” “Oh, he’s, like, so mega fast. Like a speeding bullet on legs.” “Whoa. He’s kinda cute.” “What do you think his calves look like?” “I like his hair.” “What’s he doing here in Hawkins?” “Do you think he’s undercover?” “He looks so ripped.”

Chewing his gum and secretly listening in, Peter cheesed a grin from ear to ear like a doofus. And he soon fell into a shameless habit, letting awestruck girls cop a feel of real, superhero muscles and speedster calves. Hard as vibranium, vascular like Commodore 64 wiring.

What?? Give him a break! Back in Westchester, girls never gave him a second glance.

The endless quiet and steady pace of everyday living drove Peter up a freaking wall after a while. A month in, he felt himself going stir crazy. Peter continuously thought about zipping out for a quick run. One whole second tops. Just to make a break for a slushie at the gas station down the street. Steve even swore he wouldn’t rat Peter out if he bailed and came back. Cuz, like, seriously…who would notice?

But in the back of his mind somewhere, Peter heard Chuck’s voice. A guilty reminder to slow his roll. Stop and smell the roses. The speedster had his impulses, sure. But he wasn’t so weak willed. Peter knew, deep in his heart, he could do better. Hell, he was better. A true master of self control. No problem-o.

Except…he totally wasn’t.

Hand to god, Peter was, and would always be a colossal jackass.

He affirmed this brutally honest fact with himself the first time he met you.

That night, the store seemed like a barren ghost town. Not a customer in sight. Most of the town’s locals were out having fun at a traveling carnival. Steve even took the day off to chaperone his hobbit posse. He stopped by just to give Peter his pin-covered vest, and left his esteemed colleague to stew in his own boredom. Wasting away behind the counter, restless as ever; Peter dreamed of carnival funnel cake.

And why not sneak away for a quick sec? Just to grab himself something sweet. He liked to think he earned it.

Peter zipped to the carnival, paid for some funnel cake, tied Steve’s shoelaces together, and returned to the store in a flash. Leaning comfortably back on a metal stool; he stuffed his gullet with fried delights. Sweet, doughy goodness. Powdered sugar coated his fingers and dusted the corners of his mouth. Peter kept his legs hiked up, dirty sneakers crossed on the countertop. Whatevs. He’d wipe ‘em down before he closed up shop in two hours.

His lidded eyes gaped lazily at one of theTVs hanging from the ceiling. Peter shamelessly watched a wildly inappropriate porno. A filthy flick he snatched from the restricted section and popped in. Partly out of boredom. Mostly out of morbid curiosity. Angels of Passion. Peter sat through an hour of hilariously raunchy scenes - all featuring steamy, angel hanky panky. Talk about divine intervention. He snickered to himself as heat pooled in his cheeks.

A blonde bombshell gyrated her hips in some dude’s lap, rolling her bush, bouncing to the beat of a catchy, unidentifiable song. Her explicit moans echoed lewdly over that earworm of a tune. Jesus, she was really going for it. Looked like she, uh…liked it, actually. Blood in Peter’s cheeks rushed south at warp speed. He felt a familiar tightening in his groin. With funnel cake crammed between his powdery lips, he adjusted himself in his jeans. Smearing powdered sugar carelessly over his crotch.

And he nearly choked to death when a voice he didn’t recognize called his name.

“Wow. Quicksilver? Is that you? Whatcha watchin?”

Oh. Oh, it wasn’t just his name name. But his hero name. Peter whipped his head around, his dark eyes widening as he met yours. Brows raised. Gazing humorously at him as though he were a bozo. Just his luck. A random customer - a very cute customer - picked the most optimal time to walk in. And there he was, the X-Men’s famous speedster; covered in powdered sugar, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk, Care Bear and Rainbow Brite pins all over his vest, a stiffy in his jeans, a nasty porno playing in the background.

What a huge lamebrain, you probably thought.

Peter blinked, and so did you. Time seemed to stretch in a long, awkward moment. Someone should honestly just shoot him and be done with it. From his perspective, an hour passed before he got his shit together. But from your perspective, he was there in a second. Leaning casually over the counter on his elbow, his other hand on his hip. The TV blared reruns of MTV music videos, with Madonna singin’ loud. The very same TV you caught him watching dirty movies on - just for the hell of it. Purely for entertainment’s sake, mind you.

And bizarrely enough, your expression held no judgment.

Furrowing his mercury brows, Peter wiped the last trace of powdered sugar from his lips. He cleared his throat and gave you a careless nod of his head. Stay cool. Stay collected. It wasn’t like his mom caught him with his pants down or something. He put on his best customer service smile. A grin so fake, his dimples vanished into hiding. Time to get the ball rolling before he lost whatever dignity he had left.

Peter hated Indiana. Like, really hated it.

He spoke fast, the words tumbling past his lips at the speed of light.

“That?Thatwasnothing.” Peter blurted out, his mouth running a hundred miles an hour. His fingers tapped anxiously on the countertop. Your curious gaze flicked down to them, before looking into his coke-brown eyes again. His face erupted in flames as he kept rambling, punctuating each sentence with an uneasy laugh, “I wasn’t watching anything. Just some lame religious documentary. Y’know. A real snore fest. I swear, I was this close to takin’ a nap.”

You laughed.

No lie, he wasn’t expecting you to laugh like that. The sound sliced through the tension in the air, catching him off guard. Peter’s breath caught in his throat. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His forced smile curled up involuntarily, revealing his dimples for real this time.

“Yeah? Huh. For some lame documentary, you looked pretty into it. I’m surprised you heard me at all.”

“Eh, you’re not wrong. Puts a whole new meaning to goin’ heels to Jesus, doesn’t it?”

You let out another laugh, and your voice cracked. Blush creeped over your face from the neck up. A surge of shyness overtook Peter. Running a hand up through his hair, he searched for any words to say. And then he remembered he had a job to do.

“Anyway. Sorry. Can I help you with something?” Peter smoothed out his (Steve’s) vest, brushing powdered sugar from it like pesky snow.

“No biggie, dude. Just wondering where your horror section is.”

Peter arched his brow, “Horror, huh?”

With a cheeky smirk, he disappeared, leaving a swift gust of wind in his wake. You gasped a small peep. Pressing your hands to the counter, you leaned forward as though you were looking for him. He took the opportunity to admire your ass from where he stood between the aisles. Politely, of course.

“They’re over here.” The speedster called from his spot, keeping himself nonchalantly propped against a stand of horror mags. Your gaze flitted down to the Walkman hanging at his hip. His easy going stance made you laugh yet again - man, you made him feel like the king of comedy. You made your way to the horror section. Peter kept his eyes on you while you glanced over the tapes, “You lookin’ for anything in particular, orrrrr…”

“Nope, just looking.”

“Just looking. Got it.” Peter clicked his tongue, nodding, “Cool. Well, if you need any recs…I mean, I’m kind of a movie aficionado, so…”

“Oh, you are, are you?”

Aw, you actually humored him.

“Pfffbbt. Yeah. My twin sis is, like, super into sitcoms and stuff. But I’m the movie guy of the family.”

“And what kinda movies do you like?”

Peter didn’t miss a beat, “Star Wars, definitely. But I like Bladerunner too. ET. Robocop. Alien. Oh! Rocky’s awesome too. Scarface. I can do a crazy good Tony Montana impression. Clint Eastwood movies are cool. Conan the Barbarian. Can’t get enough of Arnold. And I’m not sayin’ Flash Gordon’s my favorite, but-”

You gaped at Peter like you saw him get hit by a car or something. He stopped himself short, pausing as he named off movies on his fingers.

“What? Not a fan?”

“Not a fan of wh-”

“Flash Gordon?”

“Is that what you said? I didn’t understand a single word of that, dude!”

Oh. Guess he got a little too amped up. The apples of Peter’s cheeks turned pink. Scratching the back of his neck, he sheepishly laughed.

“Sorry, uh…lemme start over…I like Star Wars.”

“So do I! I love Star Wa-”

Peter raised his head, fixing you with a squinty eyed, analytical look - mostly playful. He quickly cut you off again.

“What about Ewoks?”

“They’re like little teddy bears! What’s not to love?”

Points for you, cute, mystery babe.

“Oh, bitchin’. Yeah, uh-”

And like a huge doofus, Peter leaned a little too hard against the magazine stand. It tumbled to the floor as he knocked it over unintentionally. Catching himself, he flashed his teeth in a humiliated smile.

“Uh…I totally meant for that to happen.” He clarified.

Even though you laughed yet again - and sounded so, unfairly cute too - Peter vanished to the restroom to smack himself in the face a few times. Returning only to clean up the fallen magazines. Another microsecond later, he appeared behind the counter. At the register again. His summer hellscape. Purgatory.

And for now, after making such an ass of himself, he’d leave you be. Let you come to him.

You eventually did.

“Just these.” You muttered bashfully, sliding a few tapes across the counter.

Peter glanced up to look at you every few beats. Tapping away at the keypad, his agile fingers danced across the keys with finesse. And despite the speed at which he normally worked, there was an unmistakable lag in his movements. Almost deliberate. He took special care as he typed your information and logged your rentals. It was as if he prolonged the interaction on purpose, drawing out everything at a leisurely pace.

Very unlike Quicksilver.

You eyed the pins all over his (Steve's) vest.

"Nice pins." You said.

"Thanks. Care Bears are the shit."

You held back another giggle, covering your mouth to conceal it.

“Say, uhm…forgive me if I’m being too nosy. But what are you doing all the way out here in Indiana, Quicksil-” You paused, tilting your head innocently to the side. Your eyes squinted into thin slits as you read his nametag, “Peeeter? Peter, yeah.”

Peter flashed a lazy, cat-like grin, snapping his fingers and throwing a finger gun your way.

“Bingo, you got it. But, yeah, everyone else calls me Quicksilver. Except for the oldies who have no clue who I am. It’s insane being recognized sometimes. Cuz I’m just a glorified track-and-field star who ended up a wage monkey, I guess. The job sucks ass, honestly.” He chuckled, leaning against the counter, resting his weight on an elbow, “As for what I’m doin’ here? It’s top secret X-Men business.”

“Ooooh! What, like…some kinda covert op-”

“Covert operation? Yeeeeeaaaaaahhh…nah, I’m totally messin’. Let’s just say I got into some trouble and this is my punishment.” Peter chuckled softly, glancing at the films you picked out. His eyes widened as he scanned the titles, letting out a low whistle, “H’oooh. Some pretty gritty stuff here. These are brutal. Blood, guts, limbs flyin’ all over the place. You tryin’ to give yourself nightmares?”

“Eh, it’s all fake anyway. Just cheesy, dumb fun.” You giggled, taking the horror flicks from him. A jolt of electricity shot through him as your fingers brushed his own. The contact was brief, but it left a flutter in his stomach he couldn’t shake. Parting your pretty lips, you teased, “They’re way more interesting than any lame, religious documentaries.”

Peter raised a brow and gave you a bemused look, your playful comment catching him by surprise. He crossed his strong arms, restlessly tapping his finger against his bicep.

“Mhm. But that “documentary” had some pretty hot angels, not gonna lie.” He joked. Peter smirked, his eyes flickering up and down, giving you a quick once-over. He snapped his fingers again, keeping his tone casual, “Hey, speaking of, are you gonna be wingin’ it back to the pearly gates anytime soon? Or are you stickin’ around for a while?”

Aha! So, you weren’t immune to his natural charm. Your eyes shot open, your blush sending a righteous wave of satisfaction buzzing through him. Peter pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek and wiggled his brows. His confidence soared beyond the stars. Shrugging off any remnants of awkwardness, he eased himself back into a state of carelessness. You broke into another cute giggle fit.

You scratched the back of your neck, looking bashfully down at your shoes.

“Nice save. I think that one actually made me blush.”

Peter blinked laxly, drawing out a satisfied hum. 

“Oh, yeah, it did for sure. Looks cute on you. What can I say? I aim to please.”

A warm smile graced his face as he slid you the last tape.

“Flash Gordon?” He asked.

If you blushed any more, you’d probably explode.

“I couldn’t keep up with the way you were talking…but you mentioned that one. You said it was one of your favorites, right?”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat.

The banter between the two of you seemed to flow so naturally. Time lost all meaning. And as the minutes passed and you said your goodbyes, moving towards the doors; Peter’s foot tapped at a frenzied pace. A powerful urge to chase after you swarmed him like a pack of angry bees. He knew he wouldn’t be staying in Indiana for much longer. Only a month more, at the most. But, man…there was something about you.

Ah, screw it. Act now, face the consequences later.

A fwip, and Peter materialized before you at the doors. You stumbled back and erupted in another surprised squeal. His hands instinctively reached out, grabbing your shoulders to steady you before you fell.

“Sorry! Sorry. Uh, any chance you’d wanna stick around for a while longer? It’s just so dead here tonight. We could kick it back, chill, and hang. And fingers crossed, I promise I won’t make you watch any weird, religious docs or nothin’.”

Miraculously, you agreed. Peter couldn’t believe his luck. And he spent the remaining few minutes of his shift, along with the rest of that night, hanging out with some cutie he met on a whim.

Maybe Robin was right. It was the vest, wasn't it? Chicks were totally into guys with accessories.

The impossibly hotter month of July.

Some might call Peter a little irresponsible. And true to form, he was. But you were legit the most fun thing to happen to him in months. Up there with the bitchin’ funnel cake he swiped from the carnival, the same night he met you. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. Both you, and the funnel cake.

Carpe diem or whatever.

In the cramped shadows of a video store supply closet, Peter pulled you oh-so-close against his body. Hot as hellfire. His heartbeat ran on bubbly fumes of anticipation. Peter’s chapped lips confidently claimed yours, a moment after you gave him a bashful peck and confessed the cutest thing ever-

“Pleaaaase don’t go back to Westchester!! I really really like you. I think you totally rock. I’m gonna miss you too much if you leave.”

D’awww. You were all soft on him. Your pouty lips and innocent eyes made his chest warm and tingly. Peter never imagined someone could win him over so easily. But after the front doors chimed, and you walked into the store wearing a Grace Under Pressure shirt - of which you told him you wore only because he got you into Rush; Peter thought he heard wedding bells. But, oh…wait. No. The doors chimed again.

Peter felt his resolve instantly weaken around you. Whatever aloof front of speedster confidence he held onto seemed to melt away. Mostly. Partially.

In the closet, he grinned into the kiss, tasting your giggles on his tongue as he coaxed you into something deeper. You were such an undeniable sweetheart. A ray of sunshine, casting light on the most boring summer of his life. Clinging bashfully to his intense kisses, you followed the motion of his tongue. Your own tongue raveled delicate threads with his. Overzealous, he tangled those threads in frantic knots. Peter breathed the softest groan, running strong hands down your back and just above-

Passionate rock songs rang out love ballad riffs in his head, and the music halted to a disappointing stop when - all at once, a veil of blinding light washed over you both. Moment ruined. What asshole would even dare? You pulled away from his kiss, but an eager Peter chased your lips. He only stopped himself once he noticed a figure looming in the closet doorway. Steve looked unamused, holding a broom and dustpan in hand.

“Can I help you?” Peter sarcastically quipped.

“Really, man? Really?” Steve scoffed, cheeks pinkening. Clearing his throat, his dark eyes shifted. Away from the couple getting a little too cozy. He stated in a matter-of-fact way, “FYI, you’re still on the clock, yanno? Jesus.”

“Jesus? I’m flattered, Harrington, but you can just call me Peter.”

A soft snicker erupted from your swollen lips. Your small hands curled shamefully into Peter’s work vest, narrowly avoiding the band pins stuck in the fabric. Ultimately, you failed to keep your giggles at bay. Peter always had a way of making you laugh til you cried. His own hands rested just above your booty, a centimeter away from some spicy grab action. Damn you, Steve. Damn you. Teasing an indignant sigh, Peter reached out to lazily snag the door handle.

“Ever heard of knocking?” He joked before easing the door closed, sealing your cute chuckles inside.

The icy cold, freeze-your-balls-off month of January. Post New Years.

Bundled up in a warm, turtleneck sweater and matching, black jeans; Peter cozied up next to you on the sofa. At his mom’s place, Wanda was perched comfortably on the floor. She kept her back against the foot of the couch close to Peter. In one of the loveseats, Lorna sat with her legs tucked under her. A blanket draped over her small frame. The faint hum of infomercials in the background went ignored, as Peter fell into a long winded info dump about the Lord of the Rings.

Peter’s mother padded into the room from the kitchen. A hand-made shawl covered her shoulders, knitted by Wanda and given to Magda as a gift. Carrying several glass bottle sodas, she passed one out to each of her kids before delivering the last one to you. Magda breathed a chuckle. She noticed the way you narrowed your eyes, as you struggled to follow Peter’s speedy rambling. His family seemed to have no problem keeping up. They understood every word, without asking him to stop and reiterate.

Lorna rolled her eyes affectionately. Wanda gazed up at her brother like he held all the secrets of the universe - and she wanted the details on every single one.

When Peter’s rambling eventually ceased, his mother asked him if he had any plans for the future. He poked inside his empty box of chow mein with a pair of chopsticks. A bit embarrassed, Peter grinned. Now that he finally scored his GED - he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He just hadn’t told anyone aside from Wanda yet. She patted Peter on the knee. A gesture of encouragement, pushing him to open up. With a timid sigh, he confessed - he wanted to teach at Xavier’s.

He got a big ol’ hug from mom for that one.

When she left for work, Peter snuggled up on the couch with you and his sisters. You were all crammed in like warm penguins on a chilly night. Until Peter randomly pushed himself out of the pile. He stumbled forward, checking his watch. Waving his soda in your face, he winked.

“Babe, hold this for me? I almost forgot I wanted to do something.”

Before you could ask, he zipped away and returned in a nanosecond. Peter threw himself into the cuddle puddle.

“Where’d you even go?” You asked, scooting aside to give him more room.

Peter snatched his soda and shrugged, lazily smirking.

“Dropped by Family Video. Tied Steve’s shoelaces together.”

[mrsshabana]

Okay I’ve got an idea for you

Soulmate Tattoo AU but Gyutaro never had one as a human and it only develops some time after he became a demon.

𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐮 ♡ 𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

꒰୨୧ ・Content Gyutaro x female!reader, canon-ish, soulmate au, fluff, angst ꒰୨୧ ・Note I've been meaning to answer this ask for so long! Honestly I wish I could write an entire fic about this but I had to stop myself. I've always wanted to write for a soulmate au so if you want to see more don't hesitate to ask! ♡ (Also I've never written for a soulmate au before so I'm sorry if I did it wrong)

It all happened so fast.

Just a moment ago you were walking home from the night market. And now you find yourself pinned to the ground in a dark alleyway fighting for your life. Some monster grabbing at you, trying to make you his next meal.

He's unlike anything you've ever seen before, but it doesn't take long for you to deduce that he's a demon. You've only heard people tell stories of them, but you never would have imagined they were real.

His large hand wraps around your mouth so you can't scream.

"Pathetic," he snarls, "Just going to let me kill you without putting up a fight?"

You try to kick and scream but you're powerless against him. His lips curl into a sadistic smile. A deep, hyena-like laugh comes from his throat.

"You're so disgraceful, I almost feel bad for you!"

For a split second, he's too busy antagonizing you to notice that you're wiggling out of his grasp. "Fuck you!" you hiss, kicking his groin and desperately crawling away.

Immediately the demon hunches over and groans in pain, "You... bitch..."

Unfortunately, the blow doesn't do as much damage as it would a human, and he's recovered quicker than you expected. You were only able to get a few feet away before he grabbed your ankle.

"You'll pay for th-" he stops mid-sentence and stares at the spot above your ankle.

An intricate pattern lies there, one that you were born with. It looks like a random splotch of ink at first glance, but when you look closer it resembles the shape of a heart.

The demon gulps audibly, suddenly the entire aura around him shifting. Without an explanation, he gets on one knee and pulls up the hem of his pants to reveal a mark that looks identical to yours.

"You... You're my soulmate," you whisper in disbelief.

The demon's hand begins to tremble as he keeps a firm grip on your ankle. "It-it can't be..."

"P-Please, maybe we-"

"Shut it!" he snaps, his teeth getting dangerously close to your face, "I don't care who you are! You're gonna be my next meal!"

He pulls out a weapon you didn't notice he had. It looks strange, like something you've never seen before.

With a look of amusement on his face, he swipes the blade of the weapon across your throat.

But nothing happens.

"...what?" he frowns and presses the blade harder against your neck. But it won't cut your skin.

It really must be true then. This demon is your soulmate, and lucky for you soulmates can't bring harm to each other.

You always heard about soulmate tattoos and how you were destined to find that special person one day. But a demon? Really? Sure, he's pretty cute but he's still a demon!

However, you're honestly just happy to be alive. At least now you don't have to worry about the demon that lurks around the entertainment district making you his dinner.

Meanwhile, your soulmate stares at you with wide eyes, hurriedly stepping away from you as if he's disgusted by you.

"Wait! Please don't go," you reach out to him, "Maybe we can work something out..."

"Tsk, I want nothing to do with you. I don't need a soulmate," he snarls, looking you up and down one last time before disappearing into the night.

You stay in that spot longer than you should, hoping he would return.

Of course, you know that demons are dangerous, but a part of you can't help but feel some kind of unconditional love for him. He is your soulmate after all.

But after some time passes you give up on love. The demon never comes back so you figure there's no point in even trying to find love in the future. If your destined soulmate doesn't even want you, then why would anyone else?

As weeks pass you go on with your life and try to forget about the demon. You're pretty sure he's long forgotten about you, but you couldn't be further from the truth. He's just been really good at hiding it.

Gyutaro hasn't been able to stop thinking about you ever since that night.

He went his entire life convinced that he was unloveable. But then suddenly this gorgeous human shows up on a silver platter just for him. It was a lot to process in the moment, but as time passed he couldn't help but sprout feelings for you. Especially after he stalked you and got to see how cute you are.

It started with him following your scent around the district, finding out where you lived, stealing your mail to get all of your personal information, and then breaking into your home while you slept.

Sure, maybe it's a bit creepy and weird but he's a demon! He has no morals at this point.

When he was a human, soulmates were the least of his worries. He was too busy scrounging for food and trying to survive to care. There were plenty of marks on his body, but none of them were the mark of a soulmate. The one on his ankle only appeared years after he became a demon. But honestly, the thought that this mark was actually the mark of a soulmate never crossed his mind. He always believed that a soulmate was never in the cards for him.

Normally he would never catch feelings for anyone, let alone a human. But when he met you it was like a switch flipped inside of him and he couldn't help but feel drawn to you.

And now, as he spends more and more time around you he begins to get careless. His feelings start to get stronger and overpower his rational thoughts. This whole time he's told himself that he'll never let you see him and he'll always just admire you when you're asleep. But the urge to touch you starts to get too strong. Oh, what he wouldn't give to feel your skin under his fingertips. To just hold you in his arms if only for a few seconds.

As he stands above your bed, looking down at you as you sleep blissfully unaware, he can't stop himself from crawling into your bed with you. It's like his body moves on its own, all of his anxious and self-hating thoughts get momentarily pushed aside. And all he can think about is you, and how right this feels.

You feel large, firm arms wrap around you - slowly waking you from your slumber. Typically someone would feel terrified to wake up suddenly in the embrace of a stranger. But you already know who this is. Your body knew it was your soulmate before you even opened your eyes.

After all of these weeks, you tried to forget about him but you never could. Ever since that first night you met him you felt like a part of you was missing. And he felt it too.

But now you feel complete with him by your side. And for the first time in his life, he doesn't hate himself. He doesn't feel like a disgusting, ugly, disgraceful waste of space.

He feels loved.

[mochinomnoms]

MOCHII

Hi hi hello

What do you think will happen if like— one day Crowley finally find a way to bring back mc back to their world?? And mc just went with it cuz like personal reasons.

How would the PTM characters especially Jade would react?? I wanna hear your thoughts about this PLEASE MOTHER FEED ME ANGST??

Within the 'canon' of PTM, Yuu can't actually go back, but more information as to why will come up in the later chapters, so I haven't actually thought about it tbh.

Considering how attached all the characters are to Yuu at this point, it would be absolutely devastating to most of them. Some understand, those who are particularly attached or close with their family, and while sad to see you go are happy for you to finally found your way back to your loved ones. They couldn't imagine their own life without their family, being so close with them, so they understand why you went.

Some are less than understanding, maybe even angry! They can't understand why you'd want to go after all you've gone through with them! Do near-death experiences mean nothing? Does their care for you mean nothing? Why, how could you leave!? It ends up with a bitter goodbye, something that they'd grow up regretting as they remember the last time you spoke, full of anger, tears, and spiteful words.

But Jade? Well, it greatly depends on whether or not a confession has happened yet. If taking place before, then there's a great divide within him to confess and yet not. If he confesses, then you might feel obligated to stay with him. Or not, he's not sure what would feel worse. But there's also the possibility of you resenting him if that were to happen, the pressure to stay taking away your only remaining opportunity to go back.

But personally, I feel like it would be much more devastating if Jade and Yuu were already a couple by this point, and they decided to go back. He spent so long pining after you, with you, knowing just how deeply and intensely he cares for you. How you know him so intimately, not just from your telepathy, but just in your ability to read him in a way no one else really has. It's not like he can even lie to you, you can hear the thoughts in his head, the devastation, the pleading, the sheer feeling of grief washing over you as you leave through the mirror with olive and gold eyes watching your form merge with the mirror. What makes your heart mourn and the tears fall from your face is the blankness in his stare, the lack of feeling other than a soft, polite smile on his face. No one else, except his brother and even Azul perhaps, can tell there's something off about him. The whispers of others commenting on his lack of reaction, their doubt of his affections for you, it only deepens the wound. Perhaps it was foolish of him to open up, to be vulnerable with you, to be someone other than Jade Leech, all to become yours. Now all he's left with is a gap in his heart and an even crueler disposition.

[kiwriteswords]

May I please request “Discussing things that set themselves up to be hurt and trusting that the other won't take advantage of it” with Hotch and a female reader who has issues with trust and intimacy?

Hi!! Thanks so much for requesting a short drabble! I hope you enjoy!

Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 1k

Rating: Everyone

TW: Canon typical themes, trust issues

A Leap of Trust

The BAU had wrapped up a long, draining case that left everyone emotionally spent. As the team packed up their things to head home, you found yourself lagging behind, lingering in the conference room. You didn’t quite feel ready to leave yet. It was easier to bury yourself in work than to face the quiet of your apartment, the silence that would force you to think—about everything.

You heard the door open behind you. "Y/N," Hotch's deep voice carried through the room, soft and careful. "You okay?"

You turned, managing a small smile. "Yeah, just catching my breath."

Aaron's brow furrowed slightly, a look of concern passing over his features. "This case was hard," he said, stepping closer. "You don't have to hold everything inside, you know. I'm here."

You sighed, knowing that he meant well. But trust, for you, was not something that came easily. It hadn’t for a long time. Your past was full of people who had promised to be there for you and then left when things got complicated, leaving you to pick up the pieces. You weren’t sure how to explain that to Hotch, not without sounding broken.

"I know you're here," you replied softly, eyes on the file in front of you, tracing the edge with your fingertips. "But it's not that simple, Aaron."

He didn’t push you. Hotch had always been patient with you, but you could tell that he was waiting for you to let him in. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to; you did. But that made it scarier. Trusting him meant handing over pieces of yourself that no one had seen in years, and trusting that he wouldn't break them.

He took another step, standing beside you now. His hand rested gently on the back of your chair, not quite touching you, but close enough that you could feel his presence. You could always feel him.

"What is it that's holding you back?" His voice was quiet, understanding. "You don't have to pretend with me, Y/N."

The vulnerability in his words caught you off guard. It was like he knew you were struggling, and not just with the case. You swallowed, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. If you didn’t say something now, you'd only keep pushing him away. And maybe, just maybe, you were tired of doing that.

You shifted in your seat, finally meeting his eyes. "I'm… I'm scared," you admitted, the words coming out barely above a whisper. "I'm scared of letting someone in, of trusting that they won't hurt me. Every time I’ve trusted someone in the past, they’ve taken advantage of it. And I can't…" You paused, struggling to find the words. "I can’t go through that again."

Hotch's expression softened, and he moved to sit beside you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand why you would feel that way," he said, his voice steady, grounding. "And I won’t pretend to know everything you've been through. But what I can tell you is that trust is never a guarantee that things won’t hurt. It’s a leap of faith."

You felt your chest tighten at the thought. "But what if I get hurt again?"

"Then you tell me," he said, his voice laced with sincerity. "And I promise you, I will never take advantage of that trust. I’ve seen what it looks like when people use that against others, and I won't let that happen to you. Not with me."

His words made you feel seen, really seen. And for a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like to believe him, to believe that he wouldn't hurt you. It was terrifying, and yet something inside you whispered that maybe, just maybe, he was different.

"I want to believe you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"You can," Hotch replied, his hand slowly reaching for yours. He paused, giving you the chance to pull away, but you didn’t. You let his fingers lace with yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. "I know it’s not easy for you. And I know this is a risk. But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N."

You looked down at your joined hands, feeling the weight of his words. It wasn’t just about the physical touch—it was about the trust that came with it. The trust you were giving him, even if it was in small doses.

"I don’t know how to do this," you confessed, your voice trembling slightly. "I've never been good at… trusting people. At letting someone in."

Hotch's thumb brushed gently over the back of your hand. "Then we take it slow. We figure it out together. And if you need space, or if you feel like it's too much, you tell me. We’ll move at your pace."

The way he said it—so calm, so assured—made you feel like maybe you could trust him, that he really wouldn't hurt you. He wasn’t asking for more than you could give, and that meant more to you than he would ever know.

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "Okay," you said, your voice steadying. "Okay, we take it slow."

Hotch smiled then—just a small, barely-there curve of his lips—but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. He brought your joined hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "Thank you for trusting me."

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel the need to pull away. Instead, you held on just a little tighter, a little longer, feeling his warmth settle into the cracks of your guarded heart.

Tag List

[inzuinzudesu]

Post-war AU! (Yes, I'm trying to do more steamy drawings, more is coming) I imagine Obito to have mellowed out quite a bit after the war, with him atoning for his sins and everything?? He would be easier to bully at the very least haha Personally, I think Kakashi'd be the more proactive one of the two, since Obito'd be feeling guilty and wouldn't want happiness for himself? Then Kakashi has to try to get him to care more about his own live?? Obito'd be living on a cliff all alone, with Kakashi coming to visit every so often in between Hokage duties?? He's trying to migrate into society slowly but surely, helping out all the grandpas and grandmas out there. I wanted to draw him in white - just a blank slate, ready to be made anew, despite all the pain and suffering. Well actually he just looks really good in white, with that white hair?? Very elegant. I can't find much of this AU on ao3? There are quite a lot on pixiv though! https://www.pixiv.net/novel/show.php?id=9410739 This the first part of a whole series! It's finished too! I can only read a bit of japanese, so I mainly just used google translate haha! Really recommend it, if you can read japanese, or if you can bear the pain of reading some very broken english 😅 This author explored the AU in a very cute way that I love??? Overall it's just silly shenanigans with potent sexual tension disguised as friendship. Biggest plot point is that there's a rumor going around that Kakashi is gay, but he tries to deny it, thinking Obito would be weirded out?? There was a point where in his anbu days, Kakashi had a one-night stand that looks like Obito??? Not gonna spoil anymore, in case you plan to read it!

[violenteconomics]

ace for the first time losing his cool and being forced to rely on the other 1st years,,, (an absolute nightmare for him, wdym ace trappola isnt in control of his emotions and how hes perceived?) im thinking maybe smh with his brother? he cares about him a tons so it probably would be him that makes ace panic sm that he cant even use his 'cool and unbothered' mask. putting this guy in situations where he has to acknowledge he actually has friends and open up to them but also feel so overwhelmed by it

PFFFFFTT OKAY I SEE YOU. anything with ace being a mess is an absolute win ��️ anything 4 u, baby.

okay, so, here's how i imagine it to go:

ace is just hanging in the courtyard by himself, probably checking his grades on whatever portal night raven college uses for that, when he gets a text message from his dad.

his brother had an accident on the movie set he was working on, and he's in critical condition at the hospital.

which is honestly too bad, because according to nrc code, ace can't leave to go home and see him unless it's "a matter of school and personal pride". like any good nrc student, ace tries to bottle it up and go on about his day. but as the week goes on, and he gets no updates about his brother's condition, his facade quickly falls apart.

he gets in trouble for having his phone out in class — not that he can concentrate, anyway. he's handing in papers that are incomplete, quizzes that are unfinished, and you can forget about that 5,000-word essay he owes riddle.

deuce is the first to notice that something's wrong. he starts covering for ace, making excuses for why he can't come to see professor crewel "right this instant", or why he keeps missing ramshackle hang-outs. every single time his lies get more and more outlandish, ranging from "i asked him to go check on my macaroni that i put in the microwave six hours ago" to "we just saw a cow fall from the sky, yes i didn't go with him, what was i supposed to do, miss history class—" he doesn't know why ace is suddenly so quiet or so stressed, but he's not about to make it worse.

yuu notices almost immediately after deuce does — mostly because deuce is a horrible liar. and, as the housewarden of ramshackle, they start exercising their right to have ace stay at their dorm "indefinitely", so ace doesn't get bothered. ace spends most of his time on his phone, so he doesn't really do much, but at least this way, yuu can personally ensure ace sleeps and stays fed and gets off his damn phone every once in a while.

ortho is extremely adept at noticing anomalies, and it's easy to see that the silent husk that's walking around school isn't his smug, slick-talking friend. he doesn't know what's wrong, exactly, but he does know that ace isn't in any mental position to do his work. going against all academic responsibility (do not do this in real life, pls), ortho starts chat-gpting all of ace's essays and homework assignments. he analyzes ace's text messages, and asks idia to create a program for him that would allow him to copy anyone's handwriting. he then uses it to reproduce work that sounds like it would come from ace, and it's actually really convincing.

upon realizing that a) ace has moved into ramshackle and is basically catatonic, and b) yuu's meal budget is already pretty strained just feeding two people, epel decides to chip in. he starts getting even more discrete with the food he sneaks into pomefiore, going so far as to prepare meals in the gymnasium after school to decrease the probability of someone from pomefiore catching him in the act. when he can't sneak in any food, he gets a crap-ton of apple juice, shoves it into a box, and sends it to ramshackle, hoping that'll be enough to get ace through the day.

sebek starts to act as ace's bodyguard, after ace almost ran into someone while looking down at his phone, and said someone nearly slammed his head into the wall. so, sebek asks riddle for ace's schedule, and starts walking him to class everyday. he's more than a little worried about his tiny human friend, who goes about his days with glazed eyes, flat expressions, and one-word responses, but he's hiding it very well. /sar

jack doesn't get nearly as involved as the others with ace's sudden uncharacteristic behavior, but he does still worry for his friend, his ears drooping down whenever he sees him. he offers ace moral support and words of encouragement where he can, but mostly he's forced to sit back and watch as the vibrant reds that encompass ace's natural aura begin to gray. and he doesn't like it one bit.

the turning point comes in ramshackle dorm. all of the first-years have gathered for their weekly hang-outs, but it's more awkward than usual without the presence of a certain red-head that exudes talkative energy. everytime deuce goes to tap ace on the shoulder, or ortho goes to sit down in ace's lap, or jack's tail wags to the point where it's almost thumping against ace's back, they all stop midway through, because ace is clearly busy...

then, two stifling hours later, ace starts crying.

sebek frantically asks what's wrong, but ace is full-on sobbing at this point and finally drops his phone.

ortho wraps his arms around him, unsure of what else can do.

jack picks up ace's phone, eyes widening as he backlogs through ace's messages to his dad, and realizes exactly what's been bothering ace this whole time.

(needless to say, there are a lot of cuddles in ace's future, and a lot of screaming and cursing in crowley's.)

[formulawolff]

“tending to my love” - t.w.

pairing: fem!reader x toto wolff

word count: 1.1k

warnings: reader is sick, a few curse words here and there, fluff so sweet it may give you a cavity

a/n: this request was sent to me a longgg time ago by an anon! so anon, i hope you enjoy soft toto tending to the love of his life <3 and i hope y'all enjoy the coziness! <3

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how are you feeling? have you taken medicine? has theodore checked up on you?

letting out a slight cough, you reach for the mug on the nightstand. carefully, you bring the heated cup to your lips, steam billowing into your nostrils.

the liquid is soothing, easing the ache in your throat as it flows down, the warmth flourishing into your chest.

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚

the mug clinks as you place it back on to the coaster. three gray dots appear, signaling you that he was not quite finished with his series of inquiries.

there's about five more minutes of this meeting and then i am taking the rest of the day off. if you need anything while i'm out, don't hesitate to let me know. would you like any sherbet or sorbet for your throat?

a giggle bubbles up, yet it crescendos into a cough, your lungs burning as you bury your face into your elbow.

once your coughing fit ceases, you begin to type a reply, thumbs gliding across the screen.

still feelin' pretty shitty. all i am in need are of some cuddles ;((

his responds instantly, and you feel the corners of your lips curl into a wide grin.

my poor schatzi. don't you fret, the moment i'm home i'm going to cuddle the shit out of you.

i hope that didn't come out wrong. you know what i mean.

i know what you meant, love. can't wait to see you. x

once you're finished with your text, you shove your phone back underneath the covers. snuggling back into the comforter, your thumb hovers over the spacebar of your laptop, resuming your favorite netflix show.

although this was about your second time rewatching the infamous series, you couldn't get enough. it was your version of real housewives or keeping up with the kardashians, as there was never a shortage of drama in the world of formula one.

since you were sick, you couldn't imagine anything more comforting than watching your boyfriend work. especially since you couldn't be there by his side in the office. you wouldn't admit it, but there were times you fell asleep to the show when the two of you were apart.

which, was the case currently, as the waves of heat from the comforter were oh so cozy. especially in your current state.

yet, you needed to resist.

it wouldn't be too much longer until he was home.

only about fifteen more minutes and he would be in bed with you, wrapping you up in those comforting arms.

meanwhile, toto wolff curses under his breath, balancing his work bag, a small tote of groceries, and keys in one hand. the other presses on his car door, slamming it shut as he fidgets with the keys. clicking a button, the car chirps in response, signaling that it was locked.

who knew that leaving work early to take care of his sick girlfriend was such a crime?

sliding the key into the lock, his wrist rotates. his free hand grasps the knob, opening the door. setting his work bag to the floor, he slips off his shoes, the tote of groceries still in hand.

making a quick pit stop in the kitchen, he places a quart of sherbet in the freezer, sliding a couple bottles of gatorade in the door off the fridge.

now, he could finally reunite with his love.

the austrian trudges up the winding stairs, ensuring that his steps were a little heavier than normal. this was habitual, his way of letting you know that he was home and on his way to you in the bedroom.

however, he doesn't hear you call out for him.

a tiny dose of panic sets in, but he fights his way through it. you just had a cold. it was nothing major, mainly respiratory. there was no reason to fret too much.

when it came to you though, toto found himself in a constant state of worry.

if anything happened to you, oh fuck. that was a thought too heavy to bear.

the moment he enters the bedroom, his heart swells.

you're buried in the comforter, hoodie of your sweatshirt pulled on, lips parted as your chest rises and falls. your laptop is only a few inches away, the sounds of voices filling the space. there's the rumble of an engine here and there, a noise that the team principal knew all too well.

the sound of a formula one engine.

carefully, he sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. his hand connects with your cheek, thumb tracing tenderly along your heated skin.

"did you miss me, schatzi?"

his voice is soft, brimmed with adoration. he doesn't expect you to stir, but you do, lashes fluttering, nose wrinkling in the process. at the realization that he was there, along with drive to survive still playing on your laptop, you pop up, hands instinctively reaching out.

the sound ceases as you nearly slam the laptop shut, "h-hi."

"good evening," a chuckle rumbles in the austrian's chest, "how are you feeling?"

"tired."

"i bet," raising the comforter, the team principal shuffles under the covers, pulling you against his chest.

"how often do you do that?"

"do what?" nuzzling into collarbone, you inhale traces of cologne that linger, grateful for his familiar scent, "i don't know what you're talking about."

"you know what i mean," he tuts, "do you watch that to sleep?"

"sometimes," you shrug, "it helps me sleep."

"well i'm here now," his lips graze your temple, peppering kisses all over, "i'll be here to take care of you when you wake. do you need anything?"

"no," shaking your head, your lids droop, the sleep settling in once more, "you're all i need."

"i love you," his heartbeat is steady, guiding you closer and closer to the edge of slumber.

"and i love you, toto. thank you for leaving early to take care of me."

"always," a hand slips underneath your hoodie, massaging gentle circles into your back, "i'll always be here. there is nothing more important than tending to my love when she's sick."

"you promise?" you can barely form the words, but they come out anyway.

"yes," toto nods, "i promise."

as you doze off, the team principal can't help but bring you in even closer.

sure, it was a risk, being in such close proximity to you.

but it was a risk that toto was willing to take.

if it meant that you were content, then that's all that mattered.

after all, if he caught your little bug, then it meant that he would get to spend more quality time with you.

and that idea alone was more enough to make it all worth it.

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[brotherwtf]

love this line: “I ain't never letting you out of my sight again” can we please get a bit of a continuation in how this manifests? adoreeee over protective john omg

omg omg John being so so protective in my age gap au :(( he just wants to protect Gale so much it's so sweet

John almost killed Gale's father when he found him beating Gale, had to be pulled off so he didn't bludgeon him to death, so he's obviously very protective over Gale in that aspect of it

he would get unreasonably angry when Gale would come out of his house with cuts or bruised, would clench the wheel and look straight ahead, trying not to run back into the house and just kill Gale's father with his bare hands, and this was before they were even dating so imagine John AFTERWARDS

but after Gale gets in that crash, John becomes even more protective, literally won't let Gale out of his sight, wants him to be safe at all times

he drives Gale to the University every morning, picks him up in the evening, even when it makes John late to work, John's just so worried about Gale getting hurt again he physically can't stand it

while Gale's healing, John wouldn't let Gale go to class, called all of his professors himself and told him he had to heal, even when Gale said it wasn't that serious, he was fine. John of course doesn't believe him, raises his eyebrows while Gale sits on the couch, sometimes even winces a little bit when John kisses him too hard, which of course makes John freak the fuck out and apologize, running to the kitchen to get frozen vegetables for his bruised face

there's some points where Gale gets frustrated with John's overprotectiveness, sometimes thinks it's because of his age and it's because John thinks he can't take care of himself, which of course causes some tension, but John always assures him that it's just because he cares about Gale so much, doesn't want him to ever have to make Gale suffer like he did before :(( never wants him to leave his sight :((

[wolfofcelestia]

One of my last reblogs got me thinking about this so here is

How all four Zaynes + Sylus would treat you for low iron

Warnings: mentions of hunting, blood, suspicious food and drink. Everything aside from Doctor Zayne's section is not rooted in reality so don't take this as medical advice. If you feel tired all the time, go ask your doctor about it and get a blood test. Trust me, you're not supposed to be tired all the time.

Doctor Zayne

By the book treatments. You'll get iron pills and recommendations for iron-rich foods. If your stomach can't handle the pills, he might recommend iron infusions, all supervised by medical personnel. On his free nights, he'd take you out to dinner or cook for you to make sure you eat iron-rich foods, even if it's only in his presence

Dawnbreaker

He'd repeatedly remind you to rely on him. Just stay in bed, he'll take care of the rest

In his world, everything you need to live is packaged in nutrient drinks or in pills, so he'd gather all these less than tasty nutrient drinks and pills but he'd also go to the outskirts of town, where the wild animals have taken over a part of a forest. They don't entirely live in harmony with the wanderers there. Some say they're no longer animals, but meat is meat, and only fresh meat will do for his beloved, especially when she's sick

He'd come home with freshly butchered meat, and the blood from the meat in large bottles, hoping she'd be able to get some benefit from drinking such a valuable and rare fluid

Foreseer

He wouldn't treat you. You don't belong in the tower. You'll only get sicker here.

"Go back to your people. Only they can help you. I have no means or the experience to cure you here."

But you won't leave. Stubborn, even in the face of an illness that makes you weaker and weaker by the day. But you've experienced this before. It's nothing new

Soon, you and Jas annoy him enough to convince him wild game is actually high in iron and, with his powers, he'd easily be able to hunt one near the tower

It would be his first meal with someone. A warm, hearty meal with the girl he's seen his other selves eat with so many times before

Master of Fate

"Close your eyes and hold my hands. Imagine my energy flowing out of my body, crossing over our hands like a bridge, and being absorbed into your body. Take as much as you need."

The Master of Fate is also a master of ancient energy magic, so something like mana or energy transfer would be easy for him if you're ill or need a boost

This won't fix the cause of your low energy of course, but this would be a start to get you on your feet

Once you have enough energy to travel down the mountain, he'd bring you to a healer, someone who works with and sells all sorts of dried herbs and Chinese medicines

Protest all you want but these bitter, smelly concoctions are going into your mouth one way or another. He'd laugh at your reaction and call you a child for making a fuss about taking your medicine, and he'd promise you a sugary treat if you take it like a good girl

Sylus

"Are you ignoring Zayne's advice again? You're really putting him through his paces, huh? I'd have my own personal doctor take a look at you but I have a feeling you'd listen to him even less. Well, if it's iron you need, then tonight we'll have steak. And we'll have steak for as many nights as you like after that. I'll have the chef work on a meal plan with you."

With your steak dinners, he'd offer you a particular red wine. It tastes a little sharper, a little richer... The way he watches so carefully when you take a drink, and the way he smiles at you when you swallow... You'd be suspicious about it, if it weren't for the fact that you did in fact feel much better after each meal

[witches-dream]

Imagine you have a son, and he's growing very disciplined, which is good, but he's very introverted, not really in a shut-in kinda way, he just seems very unapproachable to people, and he is, because he's just so serious all the time. Like you look at him and, yeah, he's gonna be great warrior, but you also wish that he could. Socialize a little?

So your son grows up and leaves to fulfill some kinda grand goal and you're like "ok, son", still kinda worried about him, but he's not your baby anymore, he can do what he wants. So he leaves and after a few days you hear this earth-shattering lightning strike, no storm before or after or anything, everybody is wondering what happened and if you'll all die soon. Nothing happens past that, actually, it feels strangely peaceful. So after a few days your son comes back and he doesn't look any different, but he has definitely changed in like a week or two that he was gone. So he says "father, I have defeated the black and white dragons". You're kinda shocked, but that explains the lightning strike and how everything went quiet after it, and your son is not one to lie, so you you say "oh, for real? neat". "They are not going to bother anyone anymore." Your son says in a solemn tone. Later, everyone celebrates but he doesn't come. You knock into his room, and, even through a closed door, you can feel some sort of power, warmth radiating from it. He opens the door and his sword looks... Different. First of all, it's much bigger. It has a completely different shape. And there's this... Purple gem on its handle and it's glowing brightly. Nobody in this village could've forged such an otherworldly masterpiece. So you ask "got a new sword, son?" He says "Yeah. It's a Soul Jam, actually." "A Soul Jam? Never heard of it." "I will tell you later."

He reluctantly agrees to join the celebration, but after a few weeks he leaves the village. He starts building a citadel, and walling off the coast of the Licorice Sea. People are already calling him Your Majesty, though he's slow on accepting that title. Many decades pass and you're so old you can't get out of the house on your own anymore. Your son visits and he looks the exact same as when he left. He takes care of you, with the same cold face he's always had, though his hands are warm and him just being there warms your heart. You strain your old and tired vocal cords to utter "I'm proud of you, son." He's silent, but he nods, and his long hair obscures his face, but you can imagine he's happy to hear that.

It's after you die that he accepts the throne, and the title of King that was decided by the people whose respect for him towered the mountains. And, as it turns out, your son is immortal now. And, through the years, through the decades and centuries and even millennia, he takes the utmost care of all his subordinates, he remembers every face of his every warrior and he etches out their names and immortalizes them and prays to them each day.

Your son does many great things, many heroic deeds. He defends the kingdom he founded with a resolution of a true warrior. Your son made friends. There's only four of them, they are heroes of their own lands just like him, so they're busy most of the time, but they go on adventures and they have fun once a couple of centuries. Your son also makes many mistakes, says things he deeply regrets. He has a son, and, even being thousands of years old, he still thinks of you and wishes he could be even half as great a father as you were.

Maybe sometimes your son wishes you were around to lend a word of advice, or to say "I'm proud of you" one more time. Other times, he's ashamed of a thought that you might be out there somewhere, watching him from the heavens and shaking your head in disapproval. You have no way of telling him you love him either way, with all his virtues and all his vices alike. What matters is that, in the end, your son overcomes all adversities and becomes a better person. He was given a unique chance in life: to have infinite time to learn, and he uses all that time to become a better person.

You have no regrets. You can rest peacefully, knowing you have raised a hero.

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack - Oopsie Baby

I don't have the spoons to go on a huge deep dive, but thoughts of excited father-to-be Jack taking care of Alice while she's pregnant is gnawing on my brain meats again.

I know I've mentioned at least once or twice in my previous posts on the topic, but I think Jack will only be able to get his sunshine pregnant if both of them are 100% on board with it. He can't do anything they don't want to after all.

But what that wasn't the case? What if MCs possessing a functional uterus were just as at risk of an oopsie baby from Jack as they would from a non-ghost(?) lover?

Just imagine the potential drama involved.

If MC still had lingering doubts that Jack was real even after they become lovers, I'd say being pregnant would dispel them nicely. Pregnancies tend to be a really powerful reality check after all.

Alice would be hit with so many emotions when finding out. She'd also be kicking herself for not buying condoms for Jack. She's not ready for a baby yet! Her job barely keeps herself alive, let alone a child. She's not in a state to handle this!

Then of course there's the fact that no one else can see/hear/touch Jack. Alice has been working through all the implications just being lovers, as well as who and how to convince that he's not just a figment of her imagination. An oopsie baby just adds a ton more things to worry about.

Fortunately Alice has Jack to help keep her grounded. She also has a loving family to support her, and good friends like Shaun.

Jack would, of course, be so ecstatic to the point that things seem less real than they were before. He's going to be a father! The world might act like he doesn't exist, but this is proof, real and true proof that he exists. It's almost too good to be true.

But Jack tries not to let his excitement and disbelief sweep him away, not while Alice is consumed with worry over all the logistical details. His need to protect and take care of her is ramped up to the max.

It's not that Alice doesn't want to have a baby with Jack. She wants to have children one day with the one she loves, and she loves Jack so much, but it's too soon! She feels so overwhelmed it's like she's drowning.

There's so much potential for moments of Jack reassuring Alice... and maybe some yandere moments where he knows he needs to take steps to protect her and their baby. Money and a good home are a problem, so like a good protector he's got to provide.

I mean, Jack was an adult in the 80's, and even today there's such a strong social pressure for men to be the providers. They're the ones bringing in the money and making sure their wives are safe and protected at home. Jack is supportive of Alice working of course. He's not one to force her into traditional gender roles, but that doesn't mean he can't be subconsciously influenced by them.

Without time to prepare for this baby, it's possible that desperate measures might need to be taken to ensure that their little family is taken care of. What might make it worse is if a certain ex is trying to use this as an opportunity to get back together.

After all, Ian is earning a lot of money now. He's so desperate to make amends, he won't hesitate to support the child of the rebound his ex had after he cheated. It's only fair, and it'll prove just how sorry he is for the rest of his life. He'll love that baby like it's his own.

Not that Jack will have anything to say about it of course.

Alice isn't going to go back to Ian, but if money is tight enough... she might have to consider letting him back into her life again as a friend even if it's toxic for her. Even if he's clearly using it as an opportunity to patch things up between them and try again. She can keep telling him no and just tolerate how much it hurts her. She has to put her baby first after all...

It's not like she's not used to putting others first even if it hurt while she and Ian were together...

As you might expect, Jack isn't going to be happy about Alice considering putting herself through something like that. He certainly won't allow Ian the chance to hurt her again.

Even though Jack is sure she won't go back to Ian, even though he knows Alice doesn't love Ian anymore those yandere fears are going to gnaw at him regardless.

Between these angsty/dramatic moments of Jack reassuring Alice, protecting her from the world and Ian, there's also moments of sweetness. He gets to marvel at the proof that he's real, even if part of him still struggles to believe it.

Things might have happened far too quickly, but they love each other. They can overcome this challenge together.

I'd keep rambling, but I'm out of spoons, so I'll have to continue on this idea later. I hope y'all enjoyed!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[anotheroceanid]

As a both a fem! percy and "percy looks like rhea" enthusiast, let me me present you:

Fem! Percy being quite literally the carbon copy of Rhea. If it's already bad enough as a boy, just imagine how much more obvious the resemblance if Percy is a girl. Imagine Zeus's reaction at being called out on his bullshit by a miniature version of his mother for the first time. the Olympians' reactions as Percy grows into a young woman, looking more and more like Rhea each year. Poseidon adoring her even more because not only she's his precious daughter, but also reminds him of his dear mother, the one they both inherited their eyes from and the one he faintly remembers before being devoured.

Maybe that adds another layer on Kronos' fixation on Percy. He's convinced she's the reincarnation of his wife, and while she betrayed him, it's stated she cared about her in his own way.

And because i'm jercy trash first and foremost, both of them sharing even more dramatic paralells of kronos/rhea with their romance. Zeus is definitely having a blast at seeing them together, and the rest of the Olympians are often hit with dissociations when Jason and Percy are together, seeing their parents for a moment instead.

According to the myth, Kronos was the one who pursued Rhea because he only wanted her as wife, and she loved him at some point. Just Jason falling head over heels for Percy at first sight and actively going after her, to Zeus' utter horror (and maybe Poseidon, but I think he actually keeps in mind that's his daughter and doesn't go crazy like Zeus does)

sorry i'm ranting here, anyway that's my headcanon

@seleneprince

YES YES YES

Fem Percy as Rhea’s carbon copy is so real 🤣🤣🤣 First time Zeus saw her he gasped and tried to not look guilty about something wrong that he did, a second later he started telling himself that that wasn't his mom, no need to be afraid. Yet, he still has nightmares that Percy Jackson is Rhea and that she is scowling him.

Which kinda turned true when Percy won the war and gave him the scowl of the century.

And ofc, this all is beyond amusing to Poseidon.

And about Kronos. My Kronos at least is kinda of crazy (side effect from eating godly babies) so to an extent he can't even differentiate Percy from Rhea most of the time. And his marriage, before kids and cannibalism, was exceptionally successful, so yeah, he is still sore about how it all ended.

So yeah, Jason falling head over heels at first time is so delightful. Especially because it terrifies the shit out of the big six, and also kinda leaves Gaea obsessed with them. I wouldn't be surprised if she felt some sort of claim over Jercy because they look so much like her kids, and That in a fem Percy context she would've wanted them as her sacrifices.

Also, Zeus pissed off that Poseidon’s forbidden child looks like their mom, while his looks like their dad.

EDIT: I FOUND IT IN MY DRAFTS AND I WAS PRETTY SURE I HAD ALREADY POSTED IT

[clairoscharm]

— you & him | f.h

DAILY CLICK

WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE

EDUCATE YOURSELF

The sunlight from the sun paints your shared bedroom with Five brighter as the two of you are still tangled in bed, covered in duvet for warmth from October's coldness. It was Saturday, and every Saturday, the two of you would sleep in for an hour or two before waking up craving a cup of coffee. Five gently wakes you up by softly tracing a line on your skin. The soft touches make you ticklish and wake you up. Five kissed your temple before wishing you a good morning, and you smiled at him. "Would you care for another coffee-hunting date with me?" he asked as his fingers ran through your hair, untangling it. You smiled at the soft touch of Five's fingers running through my hair, enjoying the simple intimacy of the moment. "A coffee-hunting date sounds lovely," you replied, your voice still groggy from sleep. "But first, I need a few more minutes of this cozy bed and your gentle touch," you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. A few moments later, the two of you get out of bed, the cold air of October making you shiver. You take turns getting ready, stealing glances at each other's reflection in the bathroom mirror, and wearing matching outfits.

It was a sunny day. The birds were chirping, the kids were playing, and it was a wonderful day. You stood near the large window in your house with a cup of tea in your hand, watching the kids and wishing you were them, while also imagining yourself as a mother. You smiled to yourself as you heard the contagious laughs from the kids and how it plastered a sweet smile on your face. However, someone was feeling a bit cranky that evening. "This damn kids are always so loud," Five groaned. You chuckled lightly at Five's grumpy complaint, setting down your tea mug and walking over to him. "Oh, come on, they're just having some fun outside," you teased. He scoffs at you, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know, but they're driving me crazy. Can't they play somewhere else? Preferably far away from our house?". "Maybe a cup of coffee would cheer you up, old man!" "Oh, very funny," he muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes at your comment, but a small smirk crossed his face. "And I'm not that old". You smiled at his grumpy reaction, knowing that underneath his grouchy exterior, he was secretly enjoying your teasing. "Come on, grumpy old man," you said, taking his hand in yours. "Let's get you that cup of coffee". And indeed, the sign on your house's front door is true: "A lovely lady and a grumpy man live here".

You have told Five how much you love the rain, yet you tend to use an umbrella to shelter yourself. If you truly love the rain, why would you not embrace it? Let the rain fall from the dark clouds drenched you with its tears. That is something Five never understood. The date was going perfectly fine until the sky suddenly darkened and drops of rain started to fall. "Come on! You said you love the rain," shouted Five, while gesturing for you to join him plays with the rain. You chuckle at his insistence but hesitate for a moment. "I do love the rain," you say, watching as he splashes happily in a puddle. "But I don't want to catch a cold". However, Five's playful smile and the way the rain glistened on his hair was too enticing. You couldn't resist his charm. "Fine, fine. I'll join you," you finally say, stepping out of the shelter and into the rain. Without waiting for a moment, Five grabs your hand and pulls you into the open. The raindrops hit your skin, cold and refreshing. Five laughs as he twirls you around, his face elated. "See? This is much better than standing under a tree, isn't it?" he shouts over the sound of the rain. Your heart flutters at how carefree he looks. "Okay, okay," you say, "You were right. This is fun!". The rain continues to fall, but neither of you seems to mind. Instead, you splash through the puddles on the sidewalk, laughing and enjoying the cool feeling of the rain. Five takes your hand again and starts to spin you around in the rain more, his smile wider than you've seen in a long time. As the two of you dance through the rain, you feel a sense of freedom, as if nothing else in the world matters except for you and him. Five pauses for a moment, his hand still holding yours, and gazes at you. "I must admit," he says, his voice low, "You look absolutely stunning in the rain," he grins, his hands wrapping around your waist. You smile at him, feeling your cheek blush at his words. "You're not so bad yourself, you know," you say, poking him playfully in the chest. Five chuckles, pulling you closer to him, his body pressed against yours. "Oh yeah? You think so?". The rain continues to fall, but neither of you seems to notice anymore. All that matters is the two of you, wrapped up in each other's arms, dancing in the rain.

"Hey, Five… What's all in this box?" you questioned with a wooden box in your hands, holding it to your chest. Five's eyes widened as his heart raced when he saw you holding the box, the letters he'd written over the years stashed inside. He couldn't believe he had forgotten about it, and now fear gripped him as he wondered if he should tell you what was inside. The wooden box that contains all of his letters for you that he couldn't be sent because of a different timeline. All the thoughts, wishes, and hopes he had written on any paper that he could find. Writing every detail that he had known of about you, even the smallest details that even you, yourself didn't know of. Writing every memory he had with you when the two of you were together. Writing everything he wanted to say to you. Writing it all down so that he won't forget about you, he couldn't. He took a deep breath before answering, "That… that's just some old things I've been meaning to get rid of". He tried to make it sound as convincing as possible, but you could sense the nervousness in his voice. You raised an eyebrow, suspicious at his answer, sensing that there was more to that box than he let on. "Really? Just old things?" you asked, still holding the box, your fingers tracing the rough edges. Five shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, his mind racing with thoughts of what you would think if you knew what was inside that box. "Yeah, it's… it's nothing important," he mumbled, his voice wavering slightly. As you continued to hold the box, your fingers still tracing the edges, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to it. "You know, you're not a very good liar," you said, noticing the way he avoided eye contact. Five's heart sank as you called him out on his lie. He knew he couldn't hide the truth for long, but the thought of you reading his letters terrified him. He was scared of what would you think of him. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. "It's… it's just some old letters," he admitted, his voice low. You looked up in surprise, not expecting him to admit to it so quickly. "Letters? To who?" you asked, your curiosity piqued. Five hesitated, unsure if he should tell you the truth. "They're… they're for you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "For me?" your voice laced with surprise. You never thought that Five would write you a letter but letters…? How many are there? What are they even about? "Yeah, for you… Back when I was stuck in the subway for almost seven years," he confessed. You knew about him being stuck there, he had told you. But he never told you about writing letters for you. The curiosity in you is getting stronger, you need to know what it is about. He watched as your expression shifted from surprised to curious, and he could see the question in your eyes. "Yes," he said softly, his voice laced with a hint of resignation. "I wrote them all during that time when I was stuck in the subway". Your mind was reeling with questions, but you tried to stay calm. "How many are there?" you asked, gesturing to the box. "A lot, I couldn't keep count". His answer only added to your curiosity, and you looked at the box in your hands as if trying to estimate how many letters were inside. "Can I… can I read them?" you asked, your voice hopeful. Five was hesitant at first, but after locking eyes with yours, he couldn't say no. After all, he wrote that for you. It was meant for you to read. With his reluctant nod, he gave you permission to explore the contents of the box. Your heart raced as you opened it, revealing stacks of envelopes and crumbled pieces of paper, each with your name written on the front. As you carefully began to read, you felt a wave of emotions wash over you - pain, love, longing, and hope, all captured on the pages.

My dearest love, As I wrote each letter, I poured my heart and soul into every word. I thought of you, how much I missed you, how much I wanted to be with you. The ink on the pages was a testament to my feelings, like a bruise on my heart. I wrote of the small things I missed, such as the way you laughed or the way your hair smelled. I wrote of the memories we shared, trying to keep them alive in my mind. Writing them was a bittersweet act, each page a reminder of the distance between us. Yours truly, forever. Five Hargreeves

In the end, you felt that despite everything, Five's love for you still burned as strong as ever.