#I just need to ramble and it’s too embarrassing to put on paper in my diary

[alloutshirt]

//

[imjustreadinglmao]

Biscuits and Flowers 💐

Eris x Reader one shot

Summary: You want to surprise Eris but he’s stressed out and accidentally rejects you.

Warnings: angsty, hurt reader, slight miscommunication, work stress (High Lord Eris is working hard)

A/N: this ain’t shit… but Eris is still my baby

Word count: 1,4k

You were nervous as you walked into the Forrest House, your stomach fluttering as you made your way up to Eris’s office.

Since he became High Lord, a lot had changed.

You could finally hear children laughing and playing out on the streets.

Musicians were putting on shows for everyone to hear.

The land itself seemed to thrive. Trees grew taller than before, their leaves a more vibrant color.

Only the High Lord himself, you noticed, was more stressed and agitated than ever.

While out on a hunt last week, he told you how most of his nights were spent awake, plagued by his own thoughts and worries.

That’s when you decided that he needed something to put him in a better mood.

So you asked Elain to help you bake his favorite biscuits as a surprise.

On your way to the Forrest House, you also picked some lovely wildflowers, hoping they would bring a smile to his face.

And you had another important mission today…You wanted to ask him out on a date.

You two had been toeing around each other for a while now, but you were always too shy to say anything.

So today, after you gave him the gifts, you promised yourself, and Elain, you would ask him.

As you knocked on his office door, you remembered what Elain said to you: “That man is absolutely smitten with you. There is no world in which he would say no.”

You took a deep breath, pushed the door handle down, and stepped in.

Eris sat at his desk, his eyes so focused on the reports in front of him that he didn’t even notice you stepping into the room.

You walked over to him, flowers in one hand and a box filled with biscuits in the other.

A small smile played on your lips.

Everything will be fine, you thought.

Finally, as you halted in front of his desk, his head snapped up.

“Y/N, I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here?”

You let out a laugh and looked down, getting even more nervous with his gaze now fixed on you.

“Well, I am successful then. I know you’ve been so overwhelmed lately, so I wanted to surprise you.”

You held up the box and flowers to show him.

“I baked the biscuits you like so much. Oh, and I also got you some flowers.”

In the process of setting them down, you accidentally knocked over a candle.

The wax was now everywhere: on his papers and pens, the books and notebooks, even on his ink pad at the far end of the oak desk.

Your hands flew out to set the candle upright again, wax still pouring from it.

“Gods, I am so sorry, Eris. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

You looked at him, tears threatening to build because of how embarrassed you were.

Eris just stared at the ruined papers, hours of work probably gone to waste now.

You picked up one of the papers, wanting to wipe the wax off it. “Here, let me see if I can—”

“No.” Eris took the paper out of your hand. “Just leave it. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. Eris was lying, he couldn’t even look at you.

You came here to cheer him up, and instead, you somehow managed to add more stress to his day.

And now you were standing in the middle of his office, shoulders slumped, guilt written all over your face.

“This wasn’t how I imagined this surprise to go.” You cringed, Eris still not looking at you.

“I didn’t want to cause you more stress. I can help you rewrite everything. And then maybe after that we can have dinner? I can make the tarts you like so much and—”

“Stop.” You flinched at his harsh tone.

“Just stop.” Eris shook his head in annoyance and sighed. “You’re making everything worse with your rambling.”

Your fingers began to tremble, and you quickly shoved them in the pockets of your dress so he wouldn’t see.

He had every right to be mad. And he also had every right to reject your dinner offer.

You almost expected him to say no, even before you destroyed half a day’s work with your mishap.

Hel, you didn’t even know if he saw you as any more than a good friend.

Sure, you were around each other often, thanks to your friendship with Elain and Lucien, but that didn’t mean he had to like you.

You must have misread the signs. Gods, this was beyond embarrassing.

He probably hated you now.

Tears gathered in your eyes. You looked up at the ceiling, refusing to let them drop.

You would cry later in the safety of your room, but not like this and surely not in front of him.

That would just make matters worse.

“You can leave now.” Eris’s voice broke you from your thoughts. You looked down again, amber eyes meeting yours.

His face was unreadable, detached even. As if his body was here but his mind elsewhere.

He made no attempt to say anything else, so you turned and walked out the door, leaving the biscuits and flowers on his desk.

As you walked back to your room, you didn’t stop to greet the servants or the other librarians.

The thoughts in your head were simply too loud to acknowledge anything else.

It wasn’t until you curled up on your bed that they finally stopped racing.

—————————

A knock sounded on Eris’s office door. Without waiting for a reply, the door opened and Lucien poked his head in.

“I didn’t think you would be here.”

Lucien closed the heavy oak door behind him and sauntered up to where Eris was sitting.

“Elain said you would already be gone by now.”

Eris looked up from where he was writing, his eyebrows furrowed. “And where exactly would I be if not here?”

Arms crossed and hip propped against the desk, Lucien replied, “Oh, I don’t know… maybe at dinner with a certain librarian?”

Eris just looked at him, mouth slightly agape, a clueless expression on his face.

“I know she was here and brought you these.”

Lucien held up the gifts you left for Eris.

“And you’re still working, so I’m assuming you said no?”

Eris was standing now, the reports before him completely forgotten. “What do you mean I said no?”

“Wait… she didn’t ask you?!” It was Lucien’s turn to act confused.

“I swear to the Mother, Lucien. If you don’t tell me right now what exactly is happening, I’m going to find methods to make you talk.”

Lucien held up his hands in surrender.

“I’ll tell you, no need to get all violent.”

He chuckled and continued,

“Y/N mentioned she was going to surprise you to cheer you up. I also overheard Y/N telling my mate that she wanted to invite you to dinner. I figured she’d asked you today, but maybe I misheard.”

Eris’s eyes were wide.

“She was going to ask me what?” he asked, hands digging into the wooden desk.

“She wanted to invite you to dinner. Just you and her.”

After a few seconds of silence, Lucien added, “like a date… I presume.”

At that, Eris went unrecognizably still.

Then he rounded the table and strode to the door, swinging it open with so much force that it crashed into the wall.

Lucien could only mutter a confused, “Where are you-” before Eris was out the door and down the hall.

Finding your room was easy. Eris had been there often enough to know the way.

He was running now, servants and nobles alike turning their heads and giving him confused looks.

But Eris couldn’t care less.

His priority was getting to you and explaining himself, plus a lot of begging for a second chance.

He slowed down and came to a stop in front of your room.

Right as he lifted his fist to knock, he heard Elain’s voice through the door.

“It’s going to be okay. This will pass.”

“You should have seen his face, Elain. I made such a fool of myself by even asking him. I shouldn’t be surprised that he rejected my offer. I basically ruined his entire day with my stupidity.”

Eris’s heart sank at that. He had been so stressed about the reports that he didn’t even hear you say anything.

The only thing he remembered was you stepping in to the office.

And then wax was pouring all over the documents and his mind just… left.

If he hadn’t dissociated, he would’ve- he would’ve said yes.

How could he not? You were the smartest, funniest and most beautiful fae he had ever laid eyes upon.

You were a ray of sunshine in his life, always brightening up his day.

And now you were in your room, crying because of him, and he could do nothing except stand there and listen to your muffled sobs.

A/N: don’t worry, they have their happy ever after. Eris finds her the next day. He apologises over and over again, takes her out to dinner and they have five beautiful children. 

[tales-from-elysivm]

★。／ falling in love with you ＼。★

ask: this was a request! but I can't find the ask on my old blog, but I do know that it was a quirkless!assistant!reader with midoriya, todoroki, bakugo, shinso, monoma, and kendo. I did cut off monoma and kendo since I feel like I don't know enough about their characters, if that's ok!

pairing: midoriya x gn! reader, todoroki x gn! reader, bakugo x gn! reader, shinso x gn! reader (separate)

fandom: boku no hero academia

word count: 3,722

tw: none, wholesome fluff with some swearing on bakugo's section

notes: this had taken a really long time on my original blog, so im happy to finally be able to share it, if you're from my OG blog, and you were waiting, im sorry it took so long! and since I can't get back into my old blog anymore (I lost the password), please resubmit your asks at anytime and ill try to get to them asap!

! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !

~the meeting~

You’re first introduced to Class 1A/1B as a stand-in for a sparring partner in hand-to-hand combat. It was better - in Aizawa’s opinion - for you to brush up on your skills while also putting his students in a more hands-on approach to learning. You stand before the class, ready. 

You challenge whoever is confident with their skills so far to come forward and fight you. Over your shoulder, Aizawa stands huddled in his sleeping bag. He isn’t too worried, he trusts your abilities to handle his class, and besides, you needed to grow to tolerate them quickly.

None of the students wanted to fight you at first.

There was at least one of their close friends that teased them because they had noticed you staring at them out of all the other blue-clad students. So, of course, to avoid further embarrassment, they step forward to be the first example.

The rules are simple. No quirks. Just simple hand-to-hand. The first to pin the opponent for at least half a minute is the winner of the exercise.

I. midoriya 

~ after the meet ~

Izuku really didn’t want to fight you

He didn’t know your strengths, your weaknesses, your quirk, your skill set, how powerful it was versus what it looked like, etc. (cue the nerdy rambling). He had no notes on you!

Izuku had seen you in class every once in a while when he wasn’t busy. You sat by the teacher’s desk grading papers and sometimes assisting Aizawa by running errands or taking over while he took a nap on the floor. But based on your stature and appearance and the fact you were wearing a school uniform, you seemed to be a student as well.

That leads to plenty of interesting theories about you!

“I think they’re a villain!” Kaminari said light-heartedly. It sounded like a rather malicious thing to suggest, Izuku thought, despite his wider grin. “In like… a rehab program or something.”

“Why would they send a villain to a school for a rehab program though?” Iida pulls his drink from his mouth. “It’d be much more likely they be put on community service or in more safe environments.”

Izuku looks across at you.

You’re sitting away from the teachers at the moment, trading notes with a girl in class 2C, laughing as you both scribble away and discuss some class that he can’t quite hear. You wave her off before moving down the table to another group who are slurping ramen over a table full of messy textbooks and broken pens. Izuku knew these kids to cause enough trouble for everyone, but they push aside their bowls and utensils and kick off their bags so they can let you sit with them. 

Hm.

Have you always looked so pretty from this far away?

~ falling in love with you ~

My boy falls hard and fast… save him…

Izuku always pays attention during a class, but he always tries to pay a little more attention when it’s you that’s teaching <3

After assisting Aizawa for a few weeks into the term, Momo asked who you were. In all the “excitement” of having to shephard a class of hormonal superheroes around, you had forgotten to introduce yourself!

He pulls out his hero notebook and begins taking detailed notes on you

[Y/N L/N], your power stats and small doodles of you in the bottom corner. Some more detailed, some awfully sketchy, but he never feels he got it quite right

Aizawa pats your head and dismisses you from your teaching duty for the day

For the rest of the class you resign yourself to your desk and join the students in learning the next emergency protocol

He thinks you might be looking away when he glances at you

Are you looking at him too?

You’ve ruined him, he’d swear on it. He can’t help it, just by looking at you. The swell of your hips when he can see you walking in front or behind him, the way your eyes light up if he even gains the confidence to talk about his hero notebooks with you, the little shocks he gets when your knees touch on the floor of his dorm room. Or maybe he finds you distracting in some way? Your voice drags him from each lecture, even if it’s not aimed at him. Your smile lures him in. He’s sure you have to have a quirk somehow, hidden there that you haven’t told him about yet.

Do you find him as distracting as he finds you?

Among his many nervous habits, a new one is born. What is it? Well, drawing you in his notebook. 

It’s during one of these very creepy-sounding moments that he remembers he never actually asked you what your quirk was. Nor had he seen it in action before

Other people had wondered about it before, but no one had an answer

So he asks you

You laugh.

It’s almost shocked, but partly sad. You tell him, quite simply, that you’re quirkless. And that Aizawa gave you the position in 1A because you were willing to become a teaching assistant on the side. Though you suspect it’s favouritism, he wants you to have a good education, UA is a nice place, he’ll be close by in case any shit goes down. 

If anything Izuku falls even more in love with you. Hearing you ramble with him about your favourite heroes, how you want to be your own hero even if you can’t do the same things as they can, and you’re still here talking to him.

You’re one of the first people he tells about All Might passing on his quirk to him. He’s worried you might be envious of it, or hate him for lying his way into UA, but you beam at him and assure him he’ll be the best Number One Hero you’ve ever seen.

Yeah, he’s definitely fallen a bit harder, if the sweaty palms and nervous heart skip is enough to go off of.

~ fighting for your attention ~

Now imagine this poor, sweet, innocent broccoli-head of a boy finally falling in love with you! He’s smitten with you

But now he’s watching you interact with his classmates interact with you a little more closely

He doesn’t mind of course, he knows everyone loves your personality and just the feeling you give off. It makes them feel warm and safe and you being quirkless limits any sense of a threat to those who are more sceptical

What he doesn’t like is that he knows some of them fancy you

Some of them love you

He begins studying harder, training harder, works out more so he can make sure he can hear your sweet praises and warming smiles

Any “good job!” and “i’m so proud!” you can offer him is cherished. He cherishes you

So he gathers his courage to try harder just for you, so you can think of him as your number one hero!

Now the only question is; do you cherish him?

K. bakugo

~ after the meet ~

An unbridled opportunity to inflict pain on an (admittedly) attractive stranger?

Fuck yeah

Quirk or no quirk, he was going to absolutely destroy you. He was sure of it!

Shitty hair said you looked oddly familiar, but who cares?

Katsuki had seen you around in the dormitory building, of course, he never paid you much attention. You were wearing a uniform, so he guessed you were a student. He thought you were boring. 

Pretty, but boring. 

Not that he was looking, shut up–

Maybe if he kicks your ass a bit he’ll stop getting so distracted

Or…:

Are you fucking kidding?

You kicked his ass! Barely breaking a sweat! 

One minute he’s preparing to just kick you in the gut and land a right hook to your face, but then he steps into the field where white lines have been drawn and you smile at him. You wish him good luck and bow before getting into a fighting stance. 

He draws a blank after that. Sure, he lands the first kick, but gets your thigh instead so you skid across the pitch. Then you effortlessly sidestep his next swing and he just wants to blast your face off in embarrassment.

Then, most painful of all, you punch him right in the gut and kick him until he’s down. 

He’s butt-hurt, as expected and refuses to even look at you.

Shitty hair slaps his shoulder and laughs as he joins the rest of the class. You brush dust off your uniform and prepare to fight Mina next. 

“That was something huh?” Kaminari jests, snickering. “I should’ve gotten that on camera.”

Katsuki decides just then that he’s going to make your life hell for what you’ve done.

~ falling in love with you ~

He’s not falling in love with you, shut up-

Ok so he’s a grouchy boy anyway right so of course he’s not going to admit it as quick as the others 

In fact he makes it a goal in life to annoy you enough until you hate his guts, then he might feel better about wanting to grind your face into the pavement 

He kicks your chair out when you go to sit so you slam into the floor, shut the door to the classroom in your face, shoves you in hallways at every chance he gets, and even becomes so petty he begins stealing your favourite snacks and drinks out of the fridge and cupboards 

Smug bastard even devours them in front of you just so you know that it was him 

He hates them but that doesn’t stop him! 

And - as much as he doesn’t want to admit it - he kinda hates the small flicker of disappointment that flutters behind your eyes before you offer to go on a snack-run for everyone on your way 

Dammit!

He makes it sound like your idea that he stalks alongside you to the grocery store.

“You’d probably get lost if someone wasn’t around to hold your hand,” he’d mock you. If you inquire if he’d hold your hand around the store, he’ll definitely leave you behind. Don’t tempt him. And if you laugh he’ll walk back to the dorms and leave your ass to wonder where he went, searching through aisles for him. He knows you would.

Begrudgingly, he knows somewhere in him won’t let him abandon you there. What part? No idea but he hates it. 

Which is why he is now escorting you on the seventh snack-run of the month. You push the trolley around because even with all your begging he won’t do it. Shopping list in hand you throw in bags of snacks and surprise treats for your classmates.   

You have everything stacked up now. Popcorn for movie nights, and each person’s specific sweets, but instead of heading towards the cashiers, you’re turning towards the scoop-and-weigh section. 

“Oi, dumbass!” Bakugo doesn’t follow after you at first, and he doesn’t care that people are turning to stare at him. “Cash register is that way!”

“I know that.” You smile and disappear behind the aisle. He really has no choice but to drag his feet to follow. When he comes around the side you’re scooping a bag full of honey-roasted almonds - ones he knows you hate but his mouth waters at. 

“What are you getting those for?” He curses how soft his voice is now, but he can’t help but wonder why you’re buying them now.

“They’re your favourite, right?” You respond.

“Yeah?” How did you even know that?

You must be reading his mind with some hidden quirk or something, because you quickly explain that you had questioned Kirishima about the hidden stash in the cupboards one time and he had told you almost immediately. So, why not grab some more when you noticed that his stash was getting low?

Without letting him answer you walk past him to the checkouts. He watches after you, mouth dry. He can’t even think of an insult for you right now.

Fuck!

~ fighting for your attention ~

He still won’t admit it to himself so don’t expect a massive, dramatic confession from him (…yet)

No, he’s willing to fight anyone and everyone who wants your affections from the sidelines 

Someone looks at you a little too long? (Punch them)

Someone touches your shoulder during a PE class? (Make their life hell)

Deku asks for your help on an essay and you respond with an all-sweet smile that just rubs him the wrong way? (Kill him - but not actually)

Jealousy is a dangerous game for Katsuki 

(He’s not jealous don’t even ask—)

He’s willing to completely flip the tables so that maybe you’d notice that something’s different: he doesn’t kick your chair out anymore, or eat your snacks, or try to fight you in the hallways 

Instead he does all of that for pretty much everyone else—with exceptions for Kirishima of course 

Anything so he can deny that he’s gone the slightest bit soft for you when you both sit in the common room and eat your respective snacks, talking about some annoying classmate that had pissed him off for the fourth time that day 

And god dammit, won’t you just notice that he appreciates you? 

S. todoroki

~ after the meet ~

Now, my first question is, is it vague curiosity or a drive to urge his strength forward that makes Shoto fight you?

It’s the strength training, he reasons

He doesn’t need it of course, he’s capable enough, but that doesn’t stop him from arguing with himself that that could be the only reason

And no, it’s definitely not because he can see you giving him a curious look over the heads of his classmates, and certainly, not because Kaminari gives him a knowing grin because even he can see you staring at him

So he puts himself forward as a volunteer

For the training… sure

Even after you lose to Todoroki he’s courteous about it. You both bow out of respect and he rejoins the line. After that he doesn’t expect to see you very much after that, perhaps never again. He thinks, despite the theories, you might be a student-teacher from a different academy.

But no, the next week you show up to their regular classes. And not long after that, you’re both working on group and pair projects together.

Like today, it’s theory. Emergency Evacuation in a Disaster. You pick some form of ‘emergency’ and then plot out an essay with detailed instructions for evacuation for the project. Simple. You pick a disaster and begin the essay.

You ask him questions in between, just general small talk, asking how his day is and the like. But he appreciates it. He knows that you know who he is and yet you just ask him normal questions. (Let’s say this is before his arc to make friends.)

You praise him for his strength in your battle and it makes his heart pound. Is he sick? What does this mean? 

What do you mean when you say you like his company? How does he get you to stop? He doesn’t like not being in control of how his heart is beating.

~ falling in love with you ~

I don’t think that originally it would be obvious to you that he fancies you

He’d be courteous at first, hold the door for you, compliment things about you, pull out your chair or save you a seat at lunch, it’s simple little things

You don’t notice of course, you just think he’s being nice

But to literally everyone else, it’s so obvious to them that he’s already completely smitten with you. He barely talks to anyone else… and yeah he doesn’t talk much with you either but he tolerates your company more than others

And he’s a gentleman so why would he outright say anything?

(That’s the reason and not that he’s afraid to, yeah totally-)

So instead he sits and listens to your conversations 

It’s not your fault he’s having a bad day, but at the moment he’s giving the cold shoulder to everyone in 1-A. 

That doesn’t stop you from dragging your chair up to his small desk during your break and eating there with him. He doesn’t tell you to leave, because he doesn’t think he can. He just watches you pull out utensils and begin to eat. He hasn’t even bothered with his own food, he can feel a pit swallowing his stomach, like he couldn’t cram anything in there if he wanted to.

“Bad day?” you ask, like you couldn’t already tell. “Don’t wanna talk about it?”

He nods at you. He can’t lie. And he sure as hell can’t ignore you.

“I understand,” you give a thoughtful hum, eating a bite of your food. “My day was pretty crappy too. It gets like that sometimes, you just gotta keep going. You can’t stop living just because your head’s a bit heavy.”

He didn’t ask for your advice, and maybe before that would’ve bothered him that you didn’t stop talking, but now he can’t find it in him to be frustrated. His annoyance deflates at your presence. You radiate this homely comfort he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Shoto goes through the effort of pulling out his food, just so you might feel better about it.

He forces out the words;

“And your day? Tell me about it… please.”

~ fighting for your attention ~

Now shoto is less likely to actually try and confront others about their shared affections

In fact in normally takes him a good while to officially realise that he loves you

But pretty soon he just begins to seek you out more

As he grows more social, earns new friends and becomes accustomed to everyone, you work with him closely to help him learn social cues and overcome his trauma

He comes to like touching you, whether it be a hand on his head, touching knees in the dorms, a simple hug, or you leaning on him until you fall asleep on him during the winter. He feels comfortable with you

But with this realisation comes one more;

He wonders if he could handle going back to living without you

H. shinso

~ after the meet ~

Now, shinso’s quirk is pretty hard to implement in a fight, which is why he mainly prefers hand-to-hand

Overall, he feels tired, if not a little bored, by the spar with you

He hadn’t noticed you at all before this lesson in 1C, but his teacher had said that you were helping by moving down from 1A

Why, he couldnt figure out

But nonetheless, he finds you watching him while waiting to spar you in your first physical education class together, so he volunteers

And he quickly gets disqualified– 

He swears he doesn’t mean to, but almost as soon as he begins the fight, you overwhelm him.

What you lack in a visible quirk, you make up for in speed, kicking and jabbing and ducking away before he can get a hit in. It’s when he finds you hovering over his shoulder, about to throw a punch to his face, that he panics and asks for your name.

A bit confused, slowing down a little bit, you give it to him, and almost as quickly, you’re under his control. The teacher immediately barks at him to release his control, and he obliges, but he’s still disqualified and you’re given an instant win. When you stumble, regaining your own self-control, you look up at him in bemusement. 

But you don’t look scared at all, instead you smile at him.

“Brainwashing? That’s a pretty cool quirk, huh?”

You confuse him, and he’s not sure if he likes it yet. 

~ falling in love with you ~

After you move down to 1C to work on your General Hero courses, you begin to grow closer with Shinso 

You don’t think that his quirk is any different to the others at UA, which he is somewhat confused by

‘Some of these guys can set people on fire! Brainwashing doesn’t sound too different to the others you see here’, was your only explanation whenever he asked about it

Overtime, you become one of his only friends in 1C, he tolerates you

He spends most of his time with you, studying, eating, talking, he helps you write papers on general hero practices, telling you about his history with children being scared of his ‘villain quirk’

All things considered, he trusts you, and i dont think he could say that for many other people at UA

You both sit cross-legged on the floor of his dorm room. He very rarely decorates it, but you begged him to let you set up the fairy lights and little cat decals that were meant for his wall. Begrudgingly, he agreed.

So that’s what you’ve been doing, arranging kitties on the wall over his desk. Cute little art pieces that resemble grey and calico cats. 

Meanwhile, he’s studying on his floor, laying back and occasionally sneaking glances at you to see if you’re tangled in the lights. Soon enough you have them strung up nicely in the corners of his dorm-room, sending soft gold light over his purple hair. He doesn’t move until you lay on the floor beside him, looking up at the ceiling.

“What do you think?” you ask, leaning up on your elbows to admire your handiwork.

He’s quiet for a moment, just looking at you, taking in the view of your side-profile. 

“They look nice.”

Shinso isn’t talking about the lights.

~ fighting for your attention ~

Listen, usually Shinso absolutely hates using his quirk for anything out of villain fights, because if he does he feels like he reinforces the idea that he might be a villain too

But, when it comes to you?

He’s relatively tame at first, he doesnt get too jealous or overprotective as someone else might (cough, bakugo, cough), but it doesnt mean that he doesnt need reassurance sometimes

If it gets to the point that another one of your suitors is making you uncomfortable, then by all means, hes asking them what theyre doing and forcing them to walk away

And afterwards, having that little moment of supposed villainy feels worth it

Just keep smiling at him

im sorry this took so long!

I hope you guys enjoyed

[ozzgin]

I can't get your yakuza headcanons out of my mind, Daitou's got me in a chokehold and I'm not complaining, like--

in regards to that doodle you made to show height difference between reader and the boys [I love your art btw (●♡∀♡)] - I can't picture myself in reader's style, I'm currently going through my goth phase in my 20s lmao; picture a big bitch with tattoos and messy hair who's listening to nothing but 2000s hits and screamo bands - so I'd like to request a headcanon of how Daitou would react to a gender-neutral reader like this :D I also like to incorporate the idea of them once being in a famous band that he's a fan of! (sorry if this seems like a lot, I have a huge imagination hehe)

but if he's more into the cute and helpless type, I'll just walk my ass out the door and yeehaw my way into another yandere's arms ✌😔

That's on me for not drawing the reader inserts as cartoonish cinder blocks :') In truth I'm a little bit embarrassed seeing how many likes that doodle has gotten, it was something I put together in a hurry and the clothing was meant to be baggy, shapeless, with not too many folds for the sake of simplicity. I myself am more of a pilgrim goth, just to emphasize the randomness of the choice.

Drawing reader inserts always leaves me a little anxious. If I use a light shade of gray, will people think I'm excluding poc? Will plus sized readers feel like they've been disregarded? What about masculine readers? As someone who's demiromantic I always struggle taking appearance or gender into consideration, because to me it has no influence whatsoever. Which is hard to express when you want to offer blank slate visuals as an extra to the story.

What I'm trying to say is that all of my characters would like you for who you are. Sure, they find your looks cute, but it's not the defining reason. Maybe you have similar traits to them, maybe you're the complete opposite and they find it intriguing. You could be a buff man and Daitou would be just as grateful to have someone who isn't afraid of him. I usually stick to a female reader for bigger stories to avoid messing it up long term, but in the grand scheme of things it makes no difference. I always imagine reader to be a shapeless blob that provides the dialogue I need for the story mood. There's no concrete preference or type for any of my OCs. I mean, ideally you'd like them back and not hang them upside down above a BBQ pit but I feel these are sensible requirements (?).

And now for the actual headcanons since my ramble is over.

First encounter is comically awkward but for reasons you’re unaware of yet. You’re obviously used to people staring at you (more so in a country like Japan), so you were expecting the curious glance every now and then. On the other hand, being under scrutiny, from a man even more unusual looking than you at that, is odd. Mildly uncomfortable. You’re shifting yourself from one leg to another, hoping to be done with the introductions soon.

On his end, Daitou is anxiously fidgeting and trying his best to focus. He’s seen this face before and he can’t shake off the familiar feeling. Where the hell…He obviously can’t downright gawk at you, and he isn’t sure how to politely formulate a question. After several sheepish peeks, it finally dawns on him: weren’t you part of that band he really likes? No, what would the chances be? Then again, how many people out there would look exactly like you? Is it rude to ask? He has no idea. He resumes his mumbled description of the apartment and hands you the papers to be signed.

Back at his place, he finally digs through his merch and sprawls out the available clues. “I didn’t know you were into this kind of music”, Kazuya comments as he looks over the man’s shoulder. He’d come over to ask about the new tenant. “I’m pretty sure it’s them.” He concludes, confidently placing his index over a CD cover. “Huh? Who? The tenant?” Kazuya holds back his chuckle. “Why would a celebrity show up for a shady apartment offer? You’re tripping, man.”

“I’m sorry, this is getting ridiculous.” You finally exclaim, annoyed by the persistent stares of the now two men facing you. You’re standing in front of the apartment building, arms crossed, huffing at the tall scarred man and his blonde friend. “No, I’m sure of it. Even the tattoo is the same.” Daitou turns to whisper to Kazuya, oblivious to your complaints. In turn, Kazuya lightly elbows him, mouthing something about being rude. “Just ask them, man.” He adds, this time louder. “Ask me what??” You groan. “W-were you…um…in this band by any chance?” Daitou manages to blurt out, searching his pocket for the CD case and ceremoniously laying it under your eyes.

Ah. It finally clicks and you exhale, relieved. You confirm their suspicions and show them some backstage photos to solidify your claim. You ask Daitou if he wants an autograph or something, then swiftly scribble your signature on a piece of paper and hand it out to him. He holds it with a wide, childish grin. “You’re a weird one, you know? You could’ve just asked. I guess I didn’t expect to find a fan in the wild, especially here.” Daitou carefully folds the souvenir, eyes lidded with nostalgia. “Oh yes, it’s great. Drowns out the screams.”

[particular-one]

my heart won’t start anymore.

pairing. dan heng x gn!reader cw. hurt/no comfort, implied relationship between reader and dan heng, falling out of love (or is it), heavy angst that is carlyle's brand™ author's note. i say i love dan heng then subject him to my heaviest angst ideas. teehee, whoops. is anyone still surprised that i wrote yet another fic to a taylor swift song? listen to you're losing me for maximum enjoyment. ❤️‍🩹

dan heng would have to be the luckiest man alive to have known someone like you and simultaneously, the most foolish man alive to let you slip through his fingers.

dan heng did not know where to begin when it came to describing you. to merely think he was lucky enough to call someone like you his was an understatement; you were perfect for him in every way possible, that it baffles him just how he's with you.

the way your eyes sparkled at the mention of stars, your favorite subject, before dan heng listened for the millionth time to your lighthearted ramble of where the stars came from. the way your laugh echoed melodiously in his head when he made a small but harmless mistake, how he would frown a little in shame but your toothy grin would make him forget his initial embarrassment. the way your head rested on his chest, humming to a childhood lullaby that would always have the same effect on his heart — to grow bigger in affection and adoration for you.

and you made him a better person, better than he ever thought he could be. dan heng had always carried the burden of his past reincarnation's sins on his back, but your presence always made the weight seem lighter. a glimpse of you was a glimpse of a life that he could live without guilt. and he wanted to make sure that he was worthy of it. worthy of you.

in short, dan heng found the perfect lifelong partner in you, end of story.

which ... just made your words pierce deeper than a knife to his heart.

"i think we should stop."

dan heng was too deep in his thoughts that he had not realized that he crumpled the paper flower bouquet in his hand. he was supposed to hand this to you the moment he stepped inside your room; march had teased him on the amount of dedication he put in perfecting his craft — according to the archives he has read, they called it the art of origami — but dan heng found himself smiling the entire process. secretly, he thought of it like his practice of building a life with you; handling the paper with subtle gentleness and care, folding it neatly to avoid any creases, before constructing a foundation for the camellia flower, your favorite flower.

what a joke this all seems to be now.

what was going on? where did he do wrong? why were you doing this? dan heng tried to remember if he had forgotten anything important. was it the time that he brushed you aside because he was engrossed in the mission? was it because dan heng constantly locked himself in the archives all by himself, that you grew tired of that?

".... stop what?"

you looked up at him, your stormy eyes brimming with tears that you were still trying to hold back. even when you were crying and breaking his heart, dan heng could not help but think how captivating you still looked. "you know what i mean."

why? "why?"

from his perspective, he could already see how much you were struggling to say it. you were shaking your head as your body was trying to hold in the biggest sob. it took everything in dan heng not to run to you and hold you in his arms, but what are the chances that you'd end up pushing him away? your words were evidence enough that you did not need his grasp right now.

"i just... i just don't see a future with you in it."

well, that hurt. that hurt more than the days that his other self wasted away in the shackling prison, mind swimming in terror and confusion as to why he was restrained the moment he was born. that hurt more than the time he sustained his deepest injury, because you were the one who ended up patching it up for him, all the while chastising him for being too reckless again. he won't have that anymore.

"why?" it was a repeat of his former question, but dan heng could hear his voice breaking as he repeated himself. moments ago, he was just dreaming about spending the rest of his life with you. to be able to wake up with you next to him and be the first to see the satisfied smile on your face. to stay by your side until the day you inevitably passed on before him.

and now, you were asking him to let that all go?

despite his initial reflections, dan heng took a step towards you, to which he was greeted with you stepping backwards, a sight that sank his heart even deeper. "but i love you." dan heng started, his heart soaring when he saw that his words still elicited a reaction from you. at this point, he was just grasping at non-existent straws that would bring you back to your senses. back to him. "we can figure a way—"

"dan heng." he stopped at his name, before slowly looking up to meet your gaze. your eyes were clouded with pain, sorrow, but most importantly, it was devoid of the warmth that dan heng sought solace in.

"i... i don't know if i can do this anymore."

you were no longer facing him, your back shaking in muffled sobs as dan heng stood there, as he watched you push him away for the first and last time. the feeling of the crumpled paper flower on his palm left nothing but a sour taste in his mouth. to think that he was so excited to see you.

"you're giving up then? on us?"

his voice came out hollow, his once forlorn expression twisting in incredulity and subtle frustration. to think that he was so excited to make things finally official between the both of you. he was finally ready to settle down and become the better man— no, the best man for you. could you not see how hard he worked to deserve you?

how cruel were you, really?

you didn't turn around to face him, but your silence told him everything he needed to know. it took everything in him to stifle the urge to let out a bitter laugh. how could he be so foolish? who would love someone as stoic, risk-taking and tactless as him, anyways?

"i didn't take you for a quitter, y/n. but i guess we're learning something new about each other right now." he spat out, which earned a turn from you. dan heng could see the hurt in your eyes. it annoyed him that even when you're hurting him, it still pained him to see you in distress. it took everything in him to reel back and stop himself. "so this is it; this is how all... this ends." he refused to let this flurry of emotions overwhelm him, as dan heng took one step closer towards you, and to his surprise, you stood, feet firmly planted on the ground. well, what does that matter now.

he was now towering over you, his eyes never leaving your figure and now was looking down at you. a part of him begged him to not say anything else, to leave with his dignity and his head up high. even if they weren't ... partners anymore, he could still try salvaging a friendship. and yet, his emotions took full control of himself at that moment. "i can't believe i even thought you were the one for me, but i guess i would probably outlive you, anyways. "

he could have sworn he heard your breath hitch as your eyes betrayed everything you were feeling at the time. a mix of grief, sadness and surprise at his words, no doubt. however, it was a fleeting sight that only slipped into another unreadable expression. "leave. please... just leave."

typically, dan heng would be able to tolerate the silence between the both of you, but that was because he could lose himself in your gaze. not now, though. his hand crumpled the paper flower even further before he threw it at the ground. dan heng took one last look at you, a small hope resurfacing that you would take everything back, that you were simply saying it in jest — but there was nothing.

he allowed his anger to overtake him and close the door behind him with a loud slam, huffing in mixed grief and anger and leaving your room for the last time. even when you were no longer looking, dan heng still refused to let that flurry of emotions overwhelm him. he shouldn't cry over someone who gave up on him as easily as that.

if he had lingered for a moment longer, he would have probably heard you breaking down in the loudest sobs on the other side of the door.

━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━

it had been three months since you left the astral express. three months since dan heng closed the door to the possibility that he would spend the rest of his long, long life with you.

three months since he hurled all those hurtful words towards you, which he has regretted since then. but his stupid ego would not let him utter a single apology to you the following morning.

it didn't take long for you to pack your bags and leave, which dan heng actually found relieving. the more he didn't see you and mourn over what could have been, the better.

still, it had been three months. dan heng would be a liar if he said that you did not cross his mind once. well, maybe more than once. maybe a million times since you left. he hated how you still had a hold on him, hated how your voice would be the last thing he's reminded of before he drifts to sleep, but most of all, he hated how he missed you since that fateful night.

how could he have missed the signs?

the tug on his sleeve brought him back to reality, as march looked over at him with a concerned glance. dan heng just shook his head and looked down at the very thing he was holding.

a bouquet of camellias. real ones, this time.

"dan heng, if you're feeling overwhelmed, we can just—" he was already walking ahead of march without listening to what else she had to say. truthfully, nothing she would probably say would deter him. the cold weather of jarilo vi was enough to drone out his ever active mind. so this was the planet that you called home after you left the express.

it did not take long for him to reach his destination, especially with how fast he had been walking. dan heng could barely even see the identifiable pink hair belonging to march behind him anymore. he'd probably have to offer her an apology for leaving her behind later.

it was a desolate deserted place, save for the monsters that roamed nearby and the dilapidated house that dan heng could only surmise as your house. though, he knew already what he was looking for.

"hey, y/n. i know you probably don't want to see me again, but ... here are your favorite flowers, just how you liked them."

to find himself face to face to a makeshift tombstone wasn't a sight that dan heng could have ever prepared himself for, but the fact that it was your tombstone that he was leaving flowers for made his last words towards you sink a knife deeper in his heart.

how could he not have noticed your erratic heartbeat?

when you told him that you couldn’t see a future with him in it, he didn’t think that you meant you did not have a future.

all those months, dan heng refused to let the flurry of emotions overwhelm him, but maybe for this time, he could just blame the emotional downpour on the bleak cold weather.

"if you had told me you were dying, i would have stayed."

written by carlyle (@particular-one) copyright: all content belongs to particular-one on tumblr (2023)

[steviesbicrisis]

Seeing a lot of Step dads being asked to adopt officially their step kids today on Tiktok and it made me think of Eddie doing something like that with Wayne.

We don’t know if Wayne officially adopted him, maybe he’s just in temporary care and now Eddie is old enough to not need an adult to look after him but when anyone asks him about his parents he always talks about Wayne so he might as well make it official, right?

Steve helps him prepare the papers in time for Christmas and he even asks Jonathan for his camera so he can capture the moment.

Despite being sure, Eddie feels a little nervous. He knows that Wayne loves him like a son, but he also knows that taking care of him wasn’t something he chose, more like the right thing to do when your brother is a fuckup and goes to prison leaving his kid to fend for himself.

Steve cheers him up by threatening him that if he doesn’t ask Wayne to adopt him, he will. Somehow that’s the weirdest and sweetest threat Eddie has ever received.

Eddie gives the papers to Wayne on Christmas, carefully folded inside a box, under a very ugly mug he knows Wayne will love in case the adoption papers aren’t well received.

Wayne opens the box and huffs looking at the dog-shaped mug “you’ve outdone yourself son, might be my new favorite one”.

He notices the way Eddie flinches at the word “son” but he shrugs it off and turns to Steve, gesturing at the camera in his hands “is this all? Wanted to take a picture of this ugly ass mug?”

Steve tries to use a neutral tone, but it comes out fond nonetheless “I think there’s something else”.

Wayne frowns, turns to Eddie who’s bouncing on his place “look at the bottom of the box” Eddie points at it.

He picks the piece of paper, unfolds it and, after giving a suspicious look to the both of them, he reads quietly.

If they didn’t know Wayne, they probably wouldn’t have noticed his eyes getting a little watery and his hands lightly trembling.

Eddie and Steve exchange a knowing look and a big smile, Steve takes it as his cue to snap the first picture.

The second depicts Eddie putting his hand on Wayne’s shoulder and his uncle -or better, his dad- looking up to hold back the tears.

The third one, everyone’s favorite, has Wayne enveloping Eddie in a bone-crushing hug and Eddie’s surprised face.

A while later, when everyone has calmed down and Wayne has signed everything he needed to, he asks “so, what about Steve?”

The boys give him a surprised look “what about me?” Steve wonders.

“Either you two get married or I adopt you too” he says simply, sipping his coffee from his new favorite dog mug.

Both Eddie and Steve get red and ramble about how it is way too soon and that gay marriage being illegal anyways.

“Im just saying, son” Wayne dwells a second on the word, as it has taken a new meaning for him “that Steve is part of the family too, and if you don’t make it official then I will.”

Eddie doesn’t give Steve any time to react “No fucking way, man” he jumps out of his seat and points at his boyfriend without looking at him “I’m asking him as soon as marriages are legal!”

“We’ll see” replies Wayne, just to rile him up, which works perfectly.

“Are you challenging me?” He turns to Steve, scandalized “don’t you dare become my step brother Steve!”

Steve winces just at the thought of it “of course-“

“How do you expect Steve to say yes to marring you if you’re this controlling?” Wayne interrupts him.

“Me?? I would be a great husband! The best!” Eddie replies, looking outraged.

Steve covers his face in his hands and mutters “oh my God” as Wayne keeps poking at Eddie and the latter takes every bait.

It takes Eddie approximately 45 minutes to realize he had been talking about being Steve’s husband in front of him the whole time despite never having that conversation between them first.

His embarrassed expression once he realizes is Wayne second’s favorite Christmas present that year.

[nyctophiliq]

I need some more Jill Valentine smut in my life.

jill valentine playing with you and her knife !

since i’m barely able to push out some real length smut, here’s a little smutty knife play drabble with jill to sedate those demons inside- hope this is up to your standards nonnie !!!

cw; knife play, knife, mentions of blood, scarring, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering, office sex, sex on a desk, the knife is just a letter opener

stuck at the office, never the best way to spend a friday night but you still weren’t about to ditch work while your girlfriend was tied up in her office, probably forgetting how time has passed since your lunch together. so you scramble to put your things together and head down to jill’s office, planning your speech to get her to resume her work next week.

you open in, listening to the papers rustle on her desk as she flips through the files she’s working on. throwing your bag next to the chair in front of her desk, then taking a seat in said chair you start rambling about how you’re glad to be out of the office finally, going home, and thinking about picking some food up on your way home.

“don’t be foolish, come sit here.” jill pushed the files in front of her on the side, tapping the little space she made on her desk for you to sit down. you compiled, stepping behind your lover’s desk and settling down in front of her.

“you’ve been working all day and night, you should come home and rest.” you couldn’t look into her eyes as you told her your simple request of just wanting the two of you alone, afraid to see her eyes slowly narrow as she was about to tell you that she immense work to get done still. you missed her warmth next to you in bed and waking up to her sipping her morning tea at the end of the bed while zoning out.

the only answer you got was a calm chuckle and something cold pressing on the side of your thigh. you suspected it was her pen that she was scribbling away previously, but you quickly realized that the tip of this object was way too thin to be her pen.

jill smirked at your facial expression, getting up from her seat with her free hand and pushing your legs apart so she could stand between them. she pressed her front against yours, the object in her hand climbing up on the thin sleeve of your shirt over your arm.

the letter opener knife appeared in front of you, jill pressing it against her lips as she let out a devilish laugh. “you came here only to seduce me out of work behind those sweet words, hm? disturbing my work just for that, are you?”

your brain was drained from the ability to make sense, her voice, her eyes, the way that her lips moved against the knife all twisting your thoughts. “i- i don’t…” the tip of the blade touching your chin, pushing and forcing you to look at the officer and her darkened eyes.

she grinned, running the cold blade along your fabric-covered throat until it reached the fabric on your chest. “fascinating.” jill put the blade under the buttons of your uniform shirt, cutting them off one by one and pulling the layers apart.

jill placed the side of the metal piece on top of your breast, after pushing your long-sleeved shirt up your chest, sliding it carefully back and forth before dragging the tip to space in between your tits. the letter opener’s tip slowly dug into your skin, the blade quickly following it and drawing the tiniest amount of blood.

it was embarrassing how much it worked you up, only the sight of jill with the knife and her using it on you was just making you wet by the second. and she seemed to sense you were just as excited as she was when she popped the button off your pants, hooking the tip of the knife into the zipper and forcing it down.

“don’t make any sound, m’okay?” 

you flinched at the gentle brush of her fingertips against your clit. “you’re making such a mess. how about we clean you up hm?” she cooed into your ear, the cold blade gliding on your skin upwards with a quick motion, the tip pushing the collar of your shirt from your throat and the edge sitting against the thin flesh of your throat.

your legs and sex twitched as she pushed two of her fingers inside you, the knife at your throat piercing your skin and another thin, long cut decorating your body. the pain coming from the shallow cut stung badly, but it only added to your pleasure.

in a matter of a few minutes, with her lips moving against yours, hungrily kissing you as her fingers torturously slowly move inside you. it’s making you crazy in so many ways, especially when her fingers slip out of you completely and end up hooking into the hem of your pants, struggling to pull them down while keeping the knife against your throat. so she discards the knife, but only for a few moments to rid you of your uniform’s bottoms and get on her knees, her head between your thighs.

“stay very still, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt sweetheart.” she murmurs against the top of your thighs before picking the knife back up and firmly pressing it against your thigh. you nod your head, fingers gripping the edge of the desk as jill’s tongue dives between your sticky lips and laps up all your excitement.

[peterporkerfan]

sketchbook [earth 1610!miles morales x latina!reader]

word count: 1.2k

warnings: fluff, light cursing, kissing, relationship insecurities, lots of spanglish

a/n: my first language is spanish, so nothing here is google translated i promise 💀

It was a hot June afternoon, and the air was sizzling all over the city.

You and Miles laid on his bed, side by side, with his arm draped around your shoulder. The AC was on full blast, and Miles’ favorite album sounded all around the room. You were both humming and singing along contently. You looked up at him smiling every once in a while, and he’d look back, smiling even wider.

“Baby, do you hear this? No one does it like Kendrick. His music is on a whole ‘nother level.” He smiled back down at you, looking at you with sheer adoration.“You know, Gwen and I…we’d listen to him all the time when she’d swing by. I love his music.”

“Remember when your favorite rapper was Post Malone?” You joked, and he looked away awkwardly.

“Yeah…we don’t—we don’t talk about that.”

You laughed and you brought your hands to his cheeks, bringing him closer and kissing him deeply. He smiled into the kiss, bringing his hands to your waist and pulling you towards him until you were laying on top of him.

You pull away from the kiss, and look down at Miles while you smile.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Miles. Eres otra cosa.”

Miles smiled back at you, feeling so lucky to have someone like you in his life. “Just wait until you meet Peter, Hobie, or Gwen…especially Gwen. She’s the coolest person ever. You two would get along really well.” Miles rambled.

“I’m sure we would.” You smiled back at your boyfriend, knowing how much he cared about his friends.

“Miles, mijo! Baja un momentito. I need your help with something!” Mrs. Morales shouted from downstairs.

“Coming, Ma!” Miles shouted back, turning his head in the direction of the opened door.

“A mi tú no me grites!”

Miles sighed, “I’ll be back ya mismo”

“I’ll be right here” You smiled at him. Miles smiled back and walked out, leaving you alone in his room.

When Miles shut the door, you stood up from your position, sitting with your legs crossed on the edge of the twin sized bed. You took in his room, and how much it reminded you of him. His collectible figurines, countless posters of his favorite rappers and albums, and the constant clutter on his floor. You spotted his sketchbook on the ground right in front of you, and felt a sudden urge to pick it up.

Miles was generally open about most things with you, however he kept his drawings to himself. You never questioned it as maybe he just thought they were embarrassing or too personal. You slowly picked up the book and started flipping through its pages. At first you were met with images of his uncle, his suit, and the streets of Brooklyn. You smiled faintly as you flipped through, appreciating how utterly talented your boyfriend was. However, you were suddenly met with countless images of someone whose name you’d never forget: Gwen.

Miles’ face would always light up when he mentioned Gwen. You never thought much of it, however, there were so many drawings of her in his sketchbook, which must’ve taken hours to make, with every little detail about her captured on the paper. You began to feel an unfamiliar pain take over you, and you put the sketchbook down where you got it from. God, she was gorgeous. And cool. Of course Miles liked her…I mean who wouldn’t? The way he described her made her seem so…captivating. Before the thought took over you completely, Miles walked into the room again, holding a large laundry basket and setting it down besides his bed. You tried to change your expression, looking up at your boyfriend like you usually would.

“That’s a lot of clothes to sort through. Que mierda.” Miles sighed.

“You need any help?”

“Yeah, actually. That’d be pretty good.”

“Cual es la palabra mágica?” You teased, batting your eyes at him playfully.

Miles narrowed his eyes at you, acting playfully annoyed. “Please?”

You walked towards him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and leaned down to sort through the clothes in the basket.

“I think you might’ve outgrown this sweater a while ago.” You held it out so Miles could see. It was an orange cardigan, with patches embroidered into it.

“Haha, very funny, Y/N. That’s Gwen’s. She left it here last time que visitó.”

“Y tú—you wear it?” You asked, feeling the uneasiness you felt before come rushing back.

“Course not. Mami probably threw it in the laundry basket sorting through my room at some point.”

“Oh.”

“It’s nice to have something of her’s though. Just to remember her by.”

Some time went by and you continued to fold clothes while a question bubbled inside you. Finally, after a long silence, you asked.

“Miles, tú—do you still…”

“Do I still what, mi amor?”

“Have feelings for…”

Miles furrowed his brows. “For…Gwen?”

“I mean, you talk about her so much and I didn’t mean to violate your privacy or anything but I may or may not have looked through your sketchbook filled with drawings of her. And don’t get me wrong the drawings are really good pero—”

Miles interrupted your senseless ramble. “Mi amor…”

“Qué?”

“You don’t seriously think that I like her, right?”

“Well, I don’t know. I mean I wouldn’t blame you for it, you know. You did once before, you could again but—“

“Baby…those drawings are old, did you go through the whole thing?”

“No, not really. I guess I thought I’d seen…enough.”

Miles picked up the sketchbook off the ground and flipped through it. He handed it to you and looked at you with adoration as he did so (unbeknownst to you, as you were staring down at your shoes with shame). You flipped the page from a drawing of Gwen and saw it: countless drawings of you. All done when you thought he wasn’t looking. A drawing of you looking at the board in math class, sitting across the room from Miles (only because the teacher thought you two were “too chatty” when you sat together). A drawing of you sitting on your windowsill with headphones on, drowning out the world around you. A drawing of you walking towards Miles, smiling at him. The drawings continued for countless pages, and your eyes began to water as you looked back up at Miles.

“You did all these…de mi?”

“Claro, you’re my girl. Why would I not?” Miles’ brows furrowed as he looked towards you.

“Dios mio, I’m so sorry for thinking you liked her. Soy tan estupida a veces.”

“Nah, don’t be, and you’re not. Yo soy el que es medio pendejo every once in a while. That’s on me.” Miles laughed.

“Y Miles, these drawings are really good. Why hadn’t you shown me?”

“I thought you wouldn’t—ay, no se. I thought you’d think they were stupid or something, I guess.” Miles mumbled, looking down at his shoes.

“Stupid? Miles, these are…you’re crazy talented. Are you kidding me?”

“Thanks…” Miles blushed as he smiled back at you faintly.

“Alright, well… enough of this sappy shit. Where were we?”

“Laundry.” Said Miles.

“Right, laundry.”

“Do we reeeeally want to do the laundry though?” Miles asked, hoping you’d just say no.

“Fuck no.” You laughed.

“Great!” You laughed as Miles webbed you back to were you were before, laying side by side on his bed.

You looked up at him. “Can I choose the music now?”

“Fine, baby. Play whatever you want.”

You unlocked his phone and searched for a Spanish pop song you knew Miles hated.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Seriously…”

“Miles, si no es así te vas a convertir en un gringo. Con esa B en español, imagínate…”

“Alright, alright…lo que tu digas, mami.” He laughed, kissing the top of your head.

As the song played and you sung along to each word, Miles became sure of one thing:

He’d never let you go.

send me requests for whatever (no smut and only latina or white/race not specified reader please)!! i’ll write mainly for miles morales but i’ll take requests for anyone else spiderverse/spiderman!!

[goingmerryfics]

Hii!!! i really love all your writing and wanted to request smth if that's okay!

could i request law x so who's into lolita fashion/subculture? Like, on days that they're able to they'll wear really extravagant looking lolita dresses and such, and is just overall really girly, and might be embarrassed about being such, esp with someone like him. but maybe he even likes that they're aesthetic opposites. idk fjsjfjfk

Ty!! <3

(idk if i need to say this but lolita fashion doesn't have anything to do with the. other uses of the term. sometimes ppl make accusations abt it but the jfashion and book are not related)

Lolita Style S/O w/ Law

Content: can be read as GN reader that wears skirts, all SFW

Notes* Thanks for being patient with me while I worked on this request! A couple of things popped up for me (and my new-used computer quit suddenly so I have to wait to see if it can be repaired or if I should just buy a brand new one) so I’ve been trying to work around this. Back to mobile tumblr I go 😢 ! Anyway- I know all too well how lolita culture gets sexualized in people’s eyes so this is a completely nsfw-free request. I made this more relatable to those in sweet style lolita more than gothic lolita since you’d commented about them being opposites and personally, I think it would be super cute for him to be paired with someone with this style. Hope you like it :)

Law

Law isn’t the type to pay attention to what people wear as long as they are dressed in proper uniform when need be. Self expression is something personal, and he’s aware of different everyone’s style is

Though he finds it hard not to notice how you dress on your days off, whether it’s just around the sub or out on the town

It’s a lot of pastel, and a lot of fabric

You hadn’t thought of what Law or the others might’ve thought the first time you dressed up, so when you kept catching Law staring at you at various points of the day, you started to feel a little nervous

Later though, the two of you had crossed paths and he stopped you there to ask about your choice of clothing

While you explained how you enjoyed the colours and the overly girly feel of it all, he listened to every word, and even asked you some questions- like how everything fit together, and how you chose to match your accessories to your clothes

He was intrigued, and being a knowledgeable man, he wanted to learn about you and your clothing style

He’d even gone off to do his own research at the next island, and secretly commissioned a seamstress to make a little purse modeled after Bepo’s face for your outfits because god knows this guy can’t sew for shit

Law had been waiting for you outside of your door, his present to you held in his hand, in a sweet little bag. You weren’t expecting to see him, nor were you expecting any sort of gift- it was nowhere near your birthday- but here he was. He pushes himself off from leaning against the door when he sees you.

“Here. I’m not sure if it’s alright, but I thought you might be able to use this.”

He hands you the bag, and you thank him before going off about how he didn’t need to get you anything, and asking what the occasion is as you dig through the white, glittery tissue paper to open it.

“No occasion. I just thought you’d like it.” He tries to act nonchalant and calm, but he’s watching your face for any changes to see if you like it or not.

You pull out the bag and gasp- it was perfect. Fluffy and pristine white, perfect for an outfit you’d been trying to put together for a while now- and it looked like your dear crewmate. You pull it to your chest with a big smile, going on a bit of a ramble at how cute it is, and how you’re going to use it right away.

The entire time you’re squealing over your new gift he’s smiling to himself, even if he doesn’t realize it.

The next time you change into your style, you make sure to keep the mini Bepo bag at your side. It goes great with your outfit

Bepo freaks out a little at the likelihood of the purse and his own face, but you quickly calm him down and explain that it’s not the head of a polar bear that you’re carrying around

Law watches you fawn over the bag with him from a distance, smiling to himself

He joins you later to walk around town with you. He’s come to enjoy how your style stands out so well beside him against his usual darker clothes

Law will also help you get dressed if you let him, buckling your shoes for you so you don’t have to fight the layers of skirt to reach your feet, or helping you pin up your hair pieces

You’d asked him once if he’d like to try men’s lolita style and he was very quick to shut that down.

“It looks better on you than it will on me.”

He really just likes seeing you as the unique one

[felixsramen]

Yours Truly

This is part 23 to my Skz poly fic.

Previous<<<< Next>>>>

You currently were the front seat of Minhos car after winning rock, paper, scissors against Seungmin who was once sulking in the backseat but now was happy with food. You currently were on the way to the boys house after helping Seungmin and Minho put there stuff in the car.

You could tell they were both nervous as much as you were as you got closer. Before you had realized it Minho had pulled into the driveway.

Minho sighs and looks at you. "If you want to leave at any point let me know. It might be a lot. The minute it's too much let me know." Minho says. You nod at him and he sighs.

"Good." He says as he sighs. He opens the door and you do the same along with Seungmin. This time you don't help Seungmin or Minho with their stuff too scared you might drop it with your nerves.

They shut the trunk and you sigh as you all walk to the door. You wonder if you should knock but instead try the door knob that Hyunjin said would be unlocked for you guys when you were ready. It is unlocked and you step into the house.

The atmosphere is off and the other two can tell. The first to greet you is Hyunjin and he looks tired. Were they getting any sleep with you guys gone?

"Hi Jinnie." You say softly and he gives you a smile. A genuine smile. You've missed that. You open your arms for him. He walks into your embrace and you sigh.

You feel tears from him drop down onto your shirt as he sobs. "Fuck I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of that shit I said. It was just the heat of the moment. You didn't deserve any of that." He rambles on about how sorry he is and how he didn't mean anything he said. You let him let it out as you gently rub his back.

After his tears slow down and he calms down you sigh. "I'm here Jinnie." You say back and he is so glad to hear that. He pulls away and you smile at him.

"When was the last time you slept well?" You ask him and he sighs. "About 3-4 days ago." He says slightly embarrassed about it.

"Think you can go sleep now? Me and the others will take care of the rest okay?" You say softly and he nods.

"Get some rest Jinnie." You say gently rubbing his back. He hugs you once more. "I'm glad you're back." He says before pulling away and heading for his room to get some sleep.

You sigh seeing Seungmin and Minho are nowhere in sight. You head to Jisungs room and knock on it. "Come in." You hear Minho say gently and you turn the knob.

Your eyes meet Minho and Jisung. Jisung looks terrible even worse than Hyunjin. Jisung looks at you and think your heart just shattered. You go up to him and against your better judgement hug him.

You hug him and that's when tears start to fall from him. He wraps his hands around you and sobs. You can tell this is what he needed right now from the way he is holding onto you.

You look at Minho who rubs Jisungs back to try and help comfort him. Jisung pulls away and you can see the tears glistening in his eyes.

"You're really here?" He asks and you nod smiling. "This isn't some nightmare that's about to turn bad now?" He says and you shake your head.

"No Ji. We're really here." Minho says and you think Jisung is about to cry again. "God I've missed you. All 3 of you. I can't sleep without having nightmares about you guys leaving me." Jisung says and you caress his face.

"We're not leaving." You say gently and he leans into your hold.

"I didn't mean it when I asked if he was choosing you over us. I need you three here. It feels wrong without you three." Jisung admits and you nod.

"We're here Ji. We're not going anywhere." You reassure him and he starts crying once again this time relieved.

When his crying stops once again you look at Minho. "I think you need some sleep Ji. Get some sleep with Min okay? He's going to sleep beside you. I'm going to get Chan out of his studio." You say softly and he nods.

He reluctantly lets go of you. You place a gentle kiss on his head before he is clinging to Minho in his bed. "Good luck." Minho mouths to you and you smile gently at him.

"Sleep well Ji." You say gently as you leave the room. You let out a sigh slightly relieved. Now you needed to pull Chan out of his studio.

Your legs carry you to Chans studio. You knock on and there's no answer. You knock again. Nothing. This time you decide to knock until he would finally get up. You finally heard footsteps and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Seriously I'm not hungry. I'm perfectly fine Hyun-" Chan says as he opens the door. His eyes fall on yours.

Chan looks the most exhausted. Dark bags are under his eyes. His hair is a mess and you can clearly tell he probably hasn't showered in a while.

"Hi Channie." You say. Chan looks surprised. You were here? You hadn't left forever?

"Hi Y/N." He says his eyes now softening.

"You've been ignoring the boys while we were gone?" You ask him. He sighs running a hand through his hair.

"I'm fine. I've been fine. I can take care of myself." He says slightly defensive. You ignore that taking his hand and placing it on your face.

You lean into it and Chan softens once again. "We can take care of you too. You don't need to always take care of yourself." You say to him and he sighs.

"Then what use am I?" He asks you gently. "You're already a great boyfriend to them." You tell him and he shakes his head. "It doesn't feel like it." He replies back.

"Maybe not but you are. They appreciate and love you so much too." You say back to him.

Chan sighs. "You're too sweet." He says gently rubbing his thumb against your face. "We fucked up. I shouldn't have let it get that far. It shouldn't have happened like that." Chan says letting his guard down.

"I've missed you. So fucking much. I couldn't sleep all I could think about was how upset you guys were. Especially you. I understand if you're still pissed or upset. You don't have to stay with us. You don't have to do anything you don't want to with us." He says letting out a breath he was holding.

You take his hand away from his face. He looks at you giving you a weak smile. You squeeze his hand gently giving him a smile of your own.

"I'm here because I want you guys. I want to work this out. I want to be with all of you Chan. Not just Minho and Seungmin. I want all of you." You tell him and he stands there for a second not saying anything. You can't help but wonder if you should've said anything to him.

Chan pulls you into his chest though. He sighs out relieved. "We want you too. More than anything." Chan says and you lean into his touch returning the hug.

You sigh content. Chan pulls away and gives you a genuine smile that shows off his dimples. He kisses your forehead. You can't help but laugh and Chan raises an eyebrow with a smile.

"You know kissing is why this happened in the first place." You tell him and he shakes his head with a smile.

"This is different." Chan says and you laugh. "I know." You say softly and Chan smiles once again.

Chan hugs you once more. "I think it's time for you to leave your room." You tell him and he sighs nodding.

"I agree." He says. You grab his hand leading him to his room that he shares with Hyunjin. You open his door to see Hyunjin asleep. You lead Chan to the bed and he sighs as you pull him into his own bed.

Chan had to admit he missed his bed. Though he missed you even more. You're squished in-between Chan and Hyunjin but you don't mind it. This all had taken a toll on you mentally and right now sleep felt like something you needed right now.

You look at Chan who's eyes are already closed. You should've known he was going to immediately sleep after not getting much this whole week.

You cuddle into Chan and Hyunjin cuddles into you from behind as you close your eyes.

Taglist:@queenmea604 @lolareadsimagines @tinyworld18 @liv302 @jinniespuppy @stephy-nicole13 @freyaniobe @chansbabygirlsstuff @jkookiejiminlvr @hyuneyeon @sirenthalia @nagadiluc @tenshimara @leeknowleeknow @boi-bi-ahaha @shltsnglggles @jfkedldndkd @tinystarsthing @armystay89 @baby-fairy-yas @haileybugulug @freckleboilix @im-sinking-in-mud @thatoneperson1911 @lmaouwu @greysweaters-blog @katrodriguez @3rachasninja @amararosesblog @1alesakura @m4gg13-g @vampcharxter @noellllslut @berryberrytan @junebug032 @jeonginwvr @jeongchaos @emyferra08 @stvrfir3 @feybin @mauvemelon @worcesheshestershiresauce @realrintaro @katsukis1wife @foliea @krishastumblernow @pretty-blkgirl @mrsseochangbin

[ohem1111]

if we truly are getting an elderly centered pack next i NEED them to have a scrapbooking skill or at least a photo album. i can’t keep making secret basements in all my sims houses that they can’t actually access just to put all of the photos on the walls down there. the way they are stored in the inventory absolutely grinds my gears.

it doesn’t even have to be fancy. it could be simple, something similar to the collections ui, just to store and view each photo? maybe with the ability to put them into different categories where you can just look at in there or put in your sims inventory when you want to put them up on the wall or give them to someone. i’m BEGGING.

i’ve put too much thought into to this so i’ll just continue to rambling -

imagine if creating a photo/scrapbook was like making jewelry or knitting.

you go in and choose the cover from more and more options the higher your skill is

choose the emotion of the book (so that when sims look at it they can feel sad if it’s in memory of a past love one, happy if it’s just like a regular family album, maybe flirty if it’s a wedding album or like spicy photo book for your fiancé(e), potential to even make a burn book essentially where sims will feel angry, embarrassed (or playful depending on the child sim’s personality) for a baby book if your parents share it with guests or something, scared if it’s full of black mail idk lol, etc.)

maybe you could also choose who it’s for in this jewelry making style of interface

the amount and quality of photos could add to the quality of the scrapbook overall

maybe you can also store birth/marriage certificates, diplomas and drawing kids make so that you don’t lose them or just have to keep them in their inventory

include a school picture day or even just a “graduation photo” for elementary and high school like they have for college where you just auto get one without having to take it

your sim could get angry while making it if you get a paper cut from having a low skill, happy because you love crafting, confident because you are getting better at the skill. sad from remembering a loved one, etc

it can be kept in the book shelf or maybe a new item similar to the cook book stand could be added so it can be displayed

after it’s made you could look at it, add/take out photos, share moment with others, destroy because you and your partner broke up or something that could have a similar effect to crying it out when they are sad

a new tradition during holidays where you reminisce and look through photos books but child or teen sims could hid it because they hate that tradition or something

but literalllllyyy the only function i would care about is being able to easily store and view photos in game so you can have the option to just by a plain old photo album and store your photos in it, i dont even really need all the fancy stuff above if i can have this one thing lol

if i knew how to make a mod i would be unstoppable LOL

enjoy my cat if you actually read all of that 😂

[2manyfandoms2count]

Message in a Bottle

Happy Valentine's Day! I'm a little late to the @theerasfestlovesquareversion party, but here's my submission ❤ Special thanks to @miabrown007 for beta-ing!

Happy reading!

Read on AO3

---

Marinette sat at her desk, one foot tucked under her, thoughtfully clicking her pen as she tried to organise a message. 

Her thoughts, which went a thousand miles an hour on a slow day, had come to a freeze about twenty four hours prior, when she’d seen – and heard – Adrien’s lips pronounce three little words she’d only ever dreamed of hearing from him. It was just her luck that they were tuned out by warning beep s, and followed by the Startrain doors clicking shut, as in slow motion, without her being able to do anything to stop them.

A part of her had screamed, urging her to chase after the moving vehicle, but her body had remained standing still on the platform, completely and utterly stunned. 

She still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten back to her parents’ bakery. How she’d gotten to bed, fallen asleep.

All she knew, as she’d awoken in the morning, was that she knew something she didn’t before, and felt a sense of clarity regarding what she needed to do – but that was when her mind had woken up, too. 

And thus the calm before the storm had ended, her mind suddenly swept by a force faster than the wind, dispersing any coherence in her head, scattering words like autumn leaves, before they even got a chance to associate with each other. 

She slammed her head on the table, hoping it would help reset her brain; unfortunately it only brought on a throbbing pain. She winced as she rubbed the budding bump on her forehead.

“Screw it,” she mumbled, finally putting her pen to paper. 

Dear Adrien, 

My feelings since you’ve left have been all over the place, but it’s kind of frightening how happy the three little words you said as the doors of the Startrain closed, made me. They’ve been all I’ve been able to think about (which you know better than anyone might not be the best thing right now – but in a good way! I wouldn’t want you to take them back for the world. Unless you want to. Which would definitely not be a problem, of course. Although maybe just a little. But I’d get over it, I promise).  

Marinette’s hand hovered over the page. She was rambling – which could be fine when she talked, but felt pretty stupid to her in written form. This wasn’t her diary. She couldn’t afford to have a stream of consciousness run on her page; maybe Adrien would read it, and think she was crazy, rip up the letter, throw it in the fire, and she’d never, ever, hear from him again. And then what?

If anything, the reason he’d gone to London in the first place, to get away from the press following Hawkmoth’s (his father’s!) defeat, so he could focus on the latter’s upcoming trial, was enough to justify a clear and concise message. She didn’t want to burden him with her feelings when he surely had infinitely more serious things to think about. 

“Marinette, it can be just a first draft, you know.” Tikki’s soothing words snapped her out of her spiral. 

She looked up at the small divinity, who smiled encouragingly. She nodded, then turned her attention back to her words, biting the end of her pen as she reread them.

Little did she know that Adrien, a small body of water away, was doing exactly the same thing…

—

Dear Marinette,

I’m so sorry I panicked. I didn’t mean to say I like you . Partly, because it’s a little embarrassing that I blurted it out like that – but mostly, because I like you doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about you. I just saw you, your freckles (the ones I thought I knew like the back of my hand – but that couldn’t be true now, could it? Else I would’ve realised who you were sooner), your smile, and the way you looked at me, and suddenly I got cold feet, and that was the extent of what my tangled brain could produce. 

Adrien spun in Félix’s desk chair, assessing what he’d written thus far. It was a good start, he supposed. His life had been turned upside down by the cataclysmic revelation that Hawkmoth was, in fact, his father, and arguably even more so by the fact that Ladybug was Marinette – he was allowed a certain amount of disorganisation. 

Although he’d obviously been surprised by the former fact, he had to admit that, retrospectively, it did make sense. He even felt stupid for not figuring it out sooner – or, rather, for figuring it out back when Hawkmoth’s powers were still fairly limited, and the damage done (both physical and psychological) was only a fraction of what would happen next, but being too much in denial of the kind of person his father was, and therefore falling for his tricks. 

But his father had grown cockier with his powers, sloppier. His desperation sent him in a slow, downward spiral, hijacking his every thought, eating away at him until one day, he’d stumbled out of what Adrien would later discover was his lair, straight into his atelier, holding his head in his hands – still clad in the purple suit that made most of Paris tremble.

Adrien had stood frozen in the doorway, at first not comprehending what he was seeing. Then, as his father – Paris’ most wanted villain – finally noticed him, the cogs in his brain had whirred again, and he’d made a dash for his room, knowing fully well what he needed to do.

Plagg had to go. Whatever happened next, he couldn’t end up in his father’s hands. 

He’d sent his best friend and his ring away just before the iron curtains had come down on his room’s windows. Just before the tears came streaming down his cheeks, as he cowered in a wardrobe, completely and utterly alone.

Until Marinette’s rescue mission, that is. 

Her being Ladybug, had come as both a complete surprise and an obvious conclusion to a mystery he’d done his best not to uncover since the day he’d first met his Lady. Adrien had obviously dreamed of figuring out who hid under his partner’s spotted mask, daring to ask every so often on the off chance that maybe she’d reconsidered her stance on the matter. But never, in his wildest dreams, had he ever made the conscious link between the two girls who brightened up his life. 

(Not that he remembered, anyway.)

Her plan had been so ingenious that he hadn’t clocked what was going on at first. He’d heard his father go on a rampage around the mansion in his search for him, half begging Adrien to listen to his explanations, half threatening him; and then there was silence as the doorbell cut through his words, and echoed through the house, once. Twice, insistent.

The silence was loud for a second, followed by footsteps running down the hallway. Gabriel opening the door. Voices, cordial at first, although Adrien couldn’t quite make the words out. He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, what Marinette had said, but somehow, she’d been invited in.

“Adrien?” His father’s tone was completely normal as he’d knocked on his door. “Adrien, your friend Marinette is here to see you. She saw the security system go off and came to check if everything was alright.” 

“I know how you feel about closed spaces,” Marinette had chimed in. Adrien had slowly crawled out of his hiding spot and made his way towards his room’s door, frowning, trying to remember when he’d told her about his fear. “It’s almost as bad as one of our friend’s fear of running out of cheese,” she’d added as he’d opened the door, turned towards Gabriel.

Adrien had stared at her blankly.

“Another one of our friends is worse about sweets, though,” Marinette had continued seemingly breezily, but Adrien had noticed the insistant glance she’d thrown him. “You should see her in January, she can’t get enough galette.”

Gabriel had chuckled politely, his shoulders tenser than usual, tearing Adrien’s focus off of Marinette’s words. “Well, as you can see, Adrien is very well, no need to worry. Now, if you don’t mind, I have an important matter to discuss with my son.”

Adrien had felt his blood run cold as his father’s fingers dug into his shoulder, which, from Marinette’s perspective, he assumed probably looked like a recreation of the painting looming over the grand staircase.

“Oh, of course, I’ll probably leave you to it, then,” Marinette had looked down, and fidgeted with her ring. 

Adrien had been torn between screaming out for her to make a run for it, to get as far as she could from the mansion and his father, somewhere safe, and begging her to take him with her. But something about her gesture had caught his attention.

Marinette didn’t wear a ring. And this wasn’t an Alliance ring, which he’d seen spread among his peers like wildfire. They didn’t have a common friend who loved galette. Or camembert.

The only person he knew who loved camembert was… 

He’d caught Marinette’s eyes, hoping she could read the question in his eyes. The way she’d nodded back, very slowly, led him to think she had. 

Swiftly, he’d turned around before his father could move, and grabbed the brooch he’d suspected lay beneath his scarf, tossing it to Marinette (Ladybug!), who’d caught it just as she called for her transformation. She’d grabbed his hand before jumping over the balustrade, almost dislocating his shoulder in the process (a small price to pay to get away, really). 

Adrien had heard his father swear after them, his footsteps rushing down, but he didn’t get very far. Ladybug opened the mansion’s door, and what seemed to be the entire Parisian police force rushed in, tackling him to the ground.

Just thinking about it again gave Adrien palpitations. He took a deep breath and got out of the chair, deciding to take a small break from writing. He owed Marinette so much.

—

Anyway, I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I haven’t had any news from you, and I feel like I’m going crazy. Realistically, I know that I like you, combined with our double… friendship, I guess?, must mean that I’m not just any friend to you, but I can’t help but wonder why you’re so silent. I guess I haven’t really been in touch either, even before your departure, but there’s just been so much going on with the trial… I don’t want to bother you, but you should know I’m here if you ever need to talk. Kwami, I wish we could talk right now. Even if I like the idea of sending you a letter, since there’s less chance of things getting lost in nerves.

Because I love you, Adrien. I’ve been trying to tell you for so long, but it never felt like it was the right time nor place to say it. I think I know why, now.

Marinette put her pen down and rubbed her face with her hands. The more she thought about it, the more everything made sense. All this time, she’d felt as if she’d been missing a piece of a puzzle, which threw all her confessions slightly off kilter – as it turned out, her feeling had been justified. 

What a shame the moment everything fell down like pieces into place had to be when Adrien had to leave. 

She shook her head. It was only temporary. She sat back in her chair with a sigh, looking out of her window. It was getting late; Notre Dame’s façade was illuminated, casting a comforting glow in the night. She wondered if Adrien’s view was as pretty as hers, and what he was up to. She didn’t dare bet he was thinking about her, but she hoped he did.

Do what you will with this information, she scribbled under her confession, sighing. I’m here if you need to talk, about anything you want. The weather, the upcoming trial, how you’re doing in London, how annoying I can imagine Félix being, what everyone in the class is up to, physics… You name it! I just really want to hear your voice again, especially your laugh.

You deserve to laugh, Adrien. So, so much. And I hope this letter brings at least a smile to your lips.

—

“Kid, you should be careful where you put your letters, I almost used it as a napkin for my extra mature pont l’évêque ,” Plagg yawned. 

“It wouldn’t matter much if you did,” Adrien sighed.

“Yes, I read it, you’re not sure you’ll send it, blablabla,” Plagg mimicked, holding up the piece of paper. 

“Hey! That was supposed to be private!” Adrien snatched it from his flippers with a huff. 

“It would be a shame, you know. It’s just the kind of thing Pigtails would love to receive.” Plagg shrugged. 

“You think?” Adrien asked, his voice suddenly hopeful.

“Trust me, Adrien, I know. ” 

Adrien couldn’t help the wide smile that spread on his lips at the thought. He went through his latest addition to the letter. 

You know, I feel like my neurons are a little less scrambled now, but Aunt Amélie is keeping me busy on this side of the Channel (I’m really discovering London, though, which is nice – I’d never been to Brixton, Camden or Hampstead Heath, but they’re great places to explore! I’d like to take you there someday, if you’ll allow me), and on the rare occasions I can sit down, which is generally late at night, I have to try and focus to go through the mess we’re going to be faced with. To tell you the truth, I much prefer sitting here writing to you, even though I don’t even know if I’ll ever even send you this letter. 

I keep thinking about the next time I’ll see you. I really want to run back to Paris, to you; I almost did, back on the train. I’m sure there would’ve been a way to stop it in its tracks, but in a way, I’m glad I didn’t. Even if there’s nothing I would’ve liked more than staying with you, putting a little distance between me and my father was quite welcome. If only there’d been a way for you to be with me… 

Sometimes, I think about calling you, but I’m always afraid that it’ll be a bad time, what with the UK being an hour behind you and all.  

He picked up his pen and added:

I hope you’re okay and that you know that I miss you and our hangouts, both in school and on the rooftops. I can’t wait to see you again, my Lady, whatever the circumstances. A small part of me hopes that it’ll be before the trial, or that we’ll get to be alone together for a bit afterwards. You and me against the world, and everything. 

(And maybe some of your dad’s chouquettes.) 

Lots of love, and hope to hear from you soon, 

Your Adrien

“There,” Adrien announced to no one in particular as he sealed his envelope. “I really hope you’re right, Plagg.” 

—

Anyway. I won’t hold you up any longer, but I just thought you should know how I feel. I’ll see you at the trial, at the latest – please don’t love London so much that you won’t come back… 

Forever yours, 

Marinette

Marinette dotted the i in her signature with a heart, and decided against re-reading the whole letter. Instead, she took out an envelope, neatly folded the page in three, and slid it inside. She wrote out Adrien’s name on the front of it, along with the Fathoms’ address, stuck a stamp at the top, and indicated her return address at the back. 

Then, she picked up her bag, and prepared to go to Alya’s. She’d post the letter on her way there; it would distract her from the wait that inevitably came with snail mail. 

She hoped her letter wouldn’t get drowned in the mass of mail Adrien surely received. 

Now, all she had to do was wait.

—

A week later, coming back from school, Marinette found a letter on her desk, and recognised the address’ calligraphy instantly. She all but tore the envelope open, her heart rate accelerating and a smile spreading wider and wider on her lips as her eyes progressed through the message. 

The date at the top told her that Adrien had written to her before reading her letter, but one thing was for sure: they were on the same page.

She placed the sheet back on her desk when she was done, feeling giddier than ever, and reached for her phone – it started ringing in her hands, Adrien’s face lighting up the screen. She almost dropped it in surprise.

“Hi,” Adrien’s voice breathed on the other end of the line.

“Hi,” she repeated, feeling herself blush. “How are–”

“I got your letter,” he blurted quickly, cutting her off. 

“I got yours, too.” She gently ran her fingers down the paper on her desk.

“Good, good.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Hey, I know this is a strange request, but would you mind going up to your balcony for a second?” he blurted quickly, cutting her off.

“Um, okay.” Marinette frowned a little, but still made her way up. Maybe it was a question of connection.

She swiftly pulled herself out of her skylight, and froze. 

Her balcony was covered in red roses: they were entangled in the wrought-iron, stood in vases on the floor, in a petal path leading straight to… Astrochat, sheepishly holding a single red rose. He hung up the phone.

“I love you too, Marinette,” he said. 

Tears welled up in Marinette’s eyes as she threw herself into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could. 

“Don’t worry about me not coming back, I’ll always stay,” he whispered in her hair. 

Marinette looked up at him, feeling like her heart might burst out of her chest. 

“Glad to hear that, silly cat,” she said with a smile, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist while his other hand softly cupped her face as he deepened the kiss. Fireworks erupted in Marinette’s stomach. She wished time would stand still to let her savour this moment forever. 

Although her wish wasn’t granted, knowing that Adrien returned her feelings and would come back to her did make their parting a little easier. 

“You know, I don’t know what the future holds for us, my Lady,” Astrochat said as he was about to leave, gently taking her hands in his, “but one thing I do know is, if you’ll allow it, I’m never letting go of you, of us. Not if I can help it.” He brought her hands to his lips, his eyes boring into hers.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Marinette answered, pink dusting her cheeks. 

“I bet you will.” He winked. “See you soon, my love.” 

He kissed her again, gently, longingly, and then slid his visor shut and took off. 

Marinette wistfully watched him fly away, her chin propped up on her arms, leaning on her bannister. 

She truly was the lucky one.

[kiwijamontoast]

Love’s Rambling (Mirose x Jamil)

Guys, I swear I will finish Mirose’s reference soon but enjoy this JaMi fic. Enjoy 💗 (Mirose’s pov)

It was a silly thought, wasn’t it? Having only been together barely two months I couldn't help to wonder about the big questions in a relationship. The thoughts of “How many children” or “When is too early to move in together” seemed to overflow daily. The need to collect every moment we have together, to be with him the urges ate away. I didn't wish to seem clingy and scared to lose him at any moment, trying to ignore my thoughts of him in class or with friends. Dreading the idea of being a clingy boyfriend who left all their friends and then came back crying after they broke up. I even worried about the idea of saying “I love you” too soon but I would whisper quietly to myself trying to gain the courage to spill out all my feelings in a way that won’t scare him off.

Jamil was just perfect to me, his long hair with its intricate details woven gently into the clear care put it was obvious. Eyes that shone like a fresh piece of moon that had fallen to Earth just to bless him. Jamil’s eyes hid a hundred secrets that few had the patience to unveil the true him. He was always tense but the way he relaxed slightly in front of a select few made it all the more special to me. I love him and everything he showed off or kept hidden. I wish I could explain in better words but my thoughts have run around so much that they have knotted together stuck and shouting for freedom.

My aunt had suggested a letter because that's what her own love had done for her. Sitting in front of the blank paper was like being mocked knowing what I needed to put but not being able to. Maybe I could just try to tell Jamil all this to his face but that sounded even more complex. Imagine my face red as I stutter my words feeling embarrassed over a possible future. Lilia told me straight “Can’t find the words? Just wait, it's what I did and soon enough the words spilled out like a tipped-over pot of soup!” Waiting sounded like a bad idea ending in me feeling even worse but I would follow it for now hoping I can find my words soon.

JaMi brain rot eats at me 💔 I just want them to be happy, get married, and love long lives together!!! I feel like I ended this on a weird cliff but sleep calls me.

[miyamizuna]

I Have a Secret

akaashi keiji x reader smau

[4] a pretty 3rd year m.list | next

When the teenage Idol group ASRUN disbands leaving It's four members distant. "Kimi" decides to go back to regular high school under her real name y/n l/n rather than pursuing a solo career. Can she go undetected in her new life of a regular girl, or will someone figure out who she really is?

The sounds of students crowding the halls and chatting are such a foreign yet similar concept. I’ve been in crowded venues and lively crowds, but I can’t say I’ve been this close to such a crowd. As I push past students to actually find my classroom, I can’t help but feel lost. It’s like I'm in a maze of unknown and lost in a sea of… creatures? No, that sounds rude… I can’t seem like an egotistical maniac on my first day! Ugh, snap your head out of-

Thud!

Ow…

Great! I bumped into someone on my first day! Way to make a scene Y/n.

“Oh, sorry there! Let me help you up!” A woman's voice calls to me with a hand extending towards my person.

I look up to see a girl with brown hair, maybe with a tint of red in there as well. Her expression looks almost critter-like, but it has its charm.

“Oh no, I’m sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m really sorry!” I tell her as I grab her hand- pulling me up.

God this is embarrassing! I’m just rambling on and on-

“Hey wait, you’re awfully familiar…” she lets out with a questioning tone.

shit have I been figured out already? Was dyeing my hair back to my natural shade not enough?

“Oh, you think so? I’m sorry, I don’t think I've ever met you.” I hope that was convincing enough.

Her face looks puzzled, clearly, she’s deep in thought.

“Eh, you’re probably right.” her face returned to a relaxed critter-like expression. “Anyways I’m Shirofuku Yukie, a 3rd year! What about you?”

“L/N Y/N. I’m a 2nd year!” Is this how you normally introduce yourself to people? “To be honest, I’m new here! I don’t exactly know where I’m going…” I sigh.

That's embarrassing to admit…

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” she smirks “Can’t leave a pretty girl like you around here alone after all!”

Well, that's straightforward…

“Well thank you Shirofuku-senpai. That’s very thoughtful of you.” I pause as I take out the paper in my bag that says my class and hand it to Shirofuku. “Here you go, I’m in class 2-6!”

She takes the paper in my hand and reads it and her eyes slightly widen. “Wow, College prep course, you must be pretty smart to be put into one of those.” she smiles “Also Yukie is just fine. No need for the fancy stuff.”

“Alright, I’ll call you Yukie from now on!”

As we walk together, she leads me up to the second floor. The room was not too far from the staircase she led me up. Now another problem is how to get down from here…

“Well, This is it L/N” she smiles as she pulls open the door. “I do know someone who’s in this class who can help you. His name is Akaashi Keiji, he can come off as a bit stuck up and blunt, but he’s nice when it comes down to it.”

So this Akaashi person is someone I can go to for help?

“Yukie, what are you doing here?” a male voice calls. It's quite a nice voice; hints of calm with a monotone base.

“Speak of the devil~ L/N this is Akaashi, you can come to him for help since you two will be in the same class.” Yukie steps out of the way making this grand-ish introduction for Akaashi. He looks me up and down and has a neutral face that is hard to read but slightly annoyed.

He doesn’t look too happy to be my buddy…

“Well~ I’m off to class! Would want to be late on my first day!” Yukie smiles playfully. “Though, L/N-chan, give me your phone! I want you to text me if anything goes wrong!”

I grab my phone to give to her. Thank god I had changed phones before coming to school, there isn’t a trace I was ever an Idol.

As she finishes typing her number, she gives me back my phone.

“Well see ya later you two! Be nice!” Is all Yukie says leaving me alone with this Akaashi character.

Well isn’t this awkward?

“C'mon, I’ll bring you to the faculty office.” He speaks up, gaining your attention. “You’ll need to meet our teacher first.” he bluntly says as he starts walking, leaving you to catch up with him.

God, this might be a nightmare being paired with this guy.

fun facts:

yukie is silly, I love silly yukie

akaashi is most likely an asshole to most people with his bluntness. he gets nicer after awhile

bokuto will get more character later :3

hmm I wonder what haruka is doing...?

taglist: @keigopika @levoli2407 @fairywriter-oracle @veecynii @sentifua @wassuppartypeople

©miyamizuna 2024

[688199]

AU where Felix is the shy one who has a crush on Bridgette: He asks her out.

(whipped this up really quick so it's rather shit)

“no woman is to get in your way of success.” his father told him one day. “banish the thought of love from your head. it will only makes you weak.” 

“yes father, i will father.” felix replied. many times he spoke those words with bitterness, yet this was one of the few in which he readily complied with an almost sort of eagerness. it would be easy after all, a task achievable even without lifting a finger. a person like him? in love? he bit his lip to stop a scoff from escaping. what type of lustful man did his father mistake him for? love, only the weakest of men subject themselves to such frivolous things…

…was what he thought.

now felix found himself agonising over a present sitting on his desk. 

“plagg, can’t you help me out here or something? and stop playing on my ps5 without asking.” he said through gritted teeth and snatched the controller away. plagg, the cat-like faerie, dangled trying to hold onto it for dear life.

“hey! give it! im almost done battling liquid flame!” 

“not when i’m in a crisis.”

with one last yank, plagg dropped to the floor, sprawling dramatically on the carpet.

“what sort of crisis justifies interrupting final fantasy?”

as much as felix liked ffxvi, some things are just more important. this, was one of them. he walked to his desk and picked up the present. the crisp wrapping paper crinkled under his tightening grasp.

“you know how long i’ve been trying to give this to her, don’t you?”

“yeah, which is lame. just call her, arrange a date to meet, and give it. voila, simple as that.”

“‘simple as that’, my ass.” felix spat.

“what else do you want me to say?” 

“i don’t know, maybe try being supportive for once.”

a lightbulb lit up above plagg and a smirk stretched across his face. shit, he’s scheming again. but too late, felix couldn’t take back his words. maybe he shouldn't announce his feelings to this little devil spawn creature next time, he mused bitterly. everything involving plagg had consequences, one way or another.

by the time felix snapped out of his thoughts, plagg was already dancing atop his phone, punching buttons while giggling like a madman. that number sequence, felix recognised it too well. 

he dived to catch plagg but then a beep came from the phone. a honeyed voice spoke first, delicately yet filled with liveliness.

“felix?”

his throat dried instantly.

“w-well uhm…”

in a corner, plagg toppled over from laughing too hard. felix shot him a glare.

“do you need anything?” 

“i-i’m sorry, my younger cousin, he uh-” felix scrambled to put his phone to his ear, heart pounding so loudly he almost couldn’t hear himself. “he was playing around with my phone and accidentally called…”

“oh really? i see! haha kids these days are really playful aren’t they? i have a younger cousin myself so i understand, no worries!” her voice… it was so warm. felix felt like melting just from hearing it so close to his ear, but it was no time to be doing that! he hated to admit but plagg had helped him, albeit in a sudden and cruel way. and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity he had now.

“bridgette wait!” felix gripped the phone until his knuckles turned ghostly white. 

“hm?”

“do you… want to uhm.. i don’t know…meet up with me? if that isn’t too much trouble! i don’t want to trouble you at all! you can say no it’s fine!” felix had no clue what he was rambling on about. all he could see was his life flashing before his eyes. what if she said no? oh god that would be so embarrassing. 

“sure, i would love to!” bridgette answered bubbly. love… to? felix couldn’t believe his ears. he pranced around his room, trying to digest her words and reply at the same time. she said she would love to! a dream come true!

“then if it’s okay with you, how about meeting at bassin de la villette? i know it’s not the most appropriate place but…”

“sounds good to me! see you later!” beep. felix stared blankly at the call ended screen. in the background, plagg inched slowly toward the top shelf where felix placed the controller. silence… then...

“WAIT LATER? TODAY?”

his voice boomed through the house. plagg fell off the shelf in a shock and hit the floor hard, back to square one.

"plagg! what do i do?" felix cried. "i can't do this! i'm not prepared!"

but plagg, heartless as ever, only rubbed his head and crossed his arms. "that's on you nitwit! you only said you wanted to meet. it's obvious she would think it was today. and hell you screaming like a girl for? it would be funny if i wasn't hurt in the process!"

"suck it up and stop being a drama queen. faeries don't feel pain."

"it hurts emotionally. my ego. aughhh, i'm leaving. your presence pains me." with that, plagg sweeped the imaginary dust from his imaginary pants and flew out the door, leaving felix in a pile of anxious, blubbering mess on the ground. only after a few minutes, did felix finally look up.

"wait where did you go? plagg? dude... plagg? hold on i need you, you can't just do this to me. plagg!"

[hellsfirekeepsyouwarm]

hi! I just saw your requests are open and I love your writing and was wondering if you can do something with either ghost or gaz where reader is going to school for their masters in communications while working with the 141 and asks them to read their thesis but instead ghost/gaz makes them take a break/go to bed or something? I've been reworking my thesis from this last semester and I'm losing my mind lol....keep up the amazing writing and thank you so much love!

Here To Serve

Hello love! Thanks for coming my way with this ask because i just needed an excuse to write for Gaz. :D Be prepared to be fall in love with this man, i did. I tried to keep it simple, i hope you'll like it.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Reader

Summary: Gaz finds you glued to you computer, tired an worn out and he takes the matter in his hands.

Uh-oh. It slips out of Kyle's mouth when he stops in front of his flat. He hears the last notes of Rihanna's Umbrella song before some classical takes over, even louder. He can't hear his own keys jingle opening the door, he can hear every instrument from the blasting music, ears already ringing. He can't prepare himself for the sight hat he's about to see.

You are just a small figure on the sofa, completely buried in papers, books and sharpies. And he can't help but chuckle at how lost you look, a manic expression on your troubled face, furiously typing on the keyboard. He's sure if you see him standing there, a smile on his face while you are on the edge of going crazy, you'll bite his head of for being so insensitive. He would watch you longer if the damn music wouldn't rip his brain out.

The room is a mess, and he finds the speaker under another pile of scratched out paper. He just lowers the volume, your head snaps up immediately at the loss of the stimulating background noise.

You look honestly horrifying.

"Oh no. You are home early." You smile, sheepish, almost embarrassed. Your eyes are glossy, makeup smudged over your cheek, messy hair peeking out of his grey hoodie that you are wearing.

You sudden surprise to see him sooner than you thought is quick to dissolve, you start rambling when Gaz sends you that scolding gaze. "Okay, so i had an idea. But that turned out worse than the previous one. So i had to rewrite half of it. But then i realized i may or ma no the original one better, so i..."

"Love.." Gaz puts down the Mexican food he got on his way home, finding his way to you over books and random stuff he wouldn't think about using while preparing for a thesis. Crouching next to you, a soft look easing the tension in your shoulders. "We talked about this."

"But i done it. Seriously." You turn your laptop towards him, to show a folder that was there weeks ago, perfect and ready. "I just need you to read it and tell me what's wrong with it."

Gaz shakes his head with a faint smile. "Oh no, no more of that nonsense. Give it to me."

With that, the computer is out of your reach, his skillful hands stealing it from your iron grip you had on it for hours now. You just now feel your sweaty palms, and an aching back and neck. "No, Kyle, please. I gotta double check if it's okay now."

"You will not do such thing tonight, and if it's up to me, ever." He take the laptop to the other end of the room, saving the folder beforeshutting it down. You want to protest more, but honestly your body is like stone, rooted on the same spot where you sat down in the early afternoon.

He's wearing casual clothes, one of your favorite jacket, that dark brown leather one, his skin is glowing from the wetness of the rain, cologne leaving a scent trail behind. You missed him so much.

You sigh, defeated, you know he won't let you touch anything that is related to your studies.

He walks back to you, your tired eyes searching for comfort in his gaze that he's more than happy to offer with a quick peck on your lips when gets back to you. He brushes the hair out of your face, soft fingertips caressing your skin. He doesn't linger too long, turning to the bag he placed on table, probably finding the only free space on it.

"Hey, where are you going?" You pout, unhappy about his absence in your personal space. He has that calming effect on you, and the loss of it makes your brain tick, circling back to your thesis.

"Uh-uh, do not think about it! I brought food, just gon' grab soda from the fridge and we can dug in, copy?" You nod, starting to arrange the books on the table, pushing everything in a big unstable pile in the middle.

He returns quickly, flashing a wide smile, eyes sparkling with love. You watch him fish out the food from the takeaway bag, the smell of Mexican food hitting your nose. He places mystery food bags in front of, making you wonder what deliciousness is inside them. "There you go, love."

You dive in together, eating in silence, a soft piano and violin duo making some background noise, occasionally letting out some huffs and satisfied hums.

You both watch the other in secret, laughing like teenagers when catching a glimpse of the other staring. Times like this you remember how young you both are, despite the lifes you live. On the field, his youthfulness presents itself as strength in body and mind, in quick reflexes and sharp ideas. At home, he is just a guy, feeding his significant other, making sure they are well rested and cared for. He's an idiot in love.

You inhaled you food while he eats comfortably, no rush in it. So you just memorize this moment, him eating in complete piece, enjoying the flavors, shutting his eyes for a seconds longer, maybe the taste is better that way. You are in awe of how full of life he is, and you would be the happiest person on this earth to keep watching him.

He opens his eyes, the last bite gone too. "Wha?" He's bushing, his accent popping off with the question.

"Nothing." You hold up both your hands, or rather the arms of the hoodie that swallowed your limbs.

Breath caught in his throat every time he sees you in his clothes. Yeah, you wore it ten minutes ago too, when he arrived home, but as your face beams like the rays of sunshine, a stupid smile plastered on your perfect lips, your body hiding under his own clothing, he feels like he's in heaven. His scent hugging your skin, the thought that you are so cozy in his clothes is just intoxicating. Makes his heart skip a beat.

"Come 'ere." That voice, raspy like in the mornings, when hes turned on, or when his emotions strike him at once. He pulls you close to his side, arm hugging you close, securing your body next to his. You snake your limbs over his body, leg hooked in his, arm grabbing his shirt for support.

When you settle, he sighs into your hair, planting small kisses on the crown of your head.

"Thanks for the dinner." You smile, turning our face upwards to meet with his gaze. "And for the distraction."

"Anytime, love. Here to serve." His cheeky smile makes you giggle, oh how madly in love you are with him.

"Hmmm... Well in that case, where the hell is the dessert soldier?" You ask, not able to hide your smile.

"Your dessert is right here, darling." He point at himself, utterly proud of his answer.

You laugh into his mouth, closing that already small distance between your lips, sharing a longing kiss. A kiss you yearn all day.

You break the kiss, trying to be as serious as you can. "But you brought dessert, right?"

He laughs, head thrown back, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Yeah, i brought dessert."

He kisses you with fiery eyes, tenderly, lovingly, the softest way a man is capable of. That dessert might have to wait a little more.