#PAUSE. HUH. YOU KNOW IT JUST OCCURED TO ME

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman and Female Reader

Finale

Word Count ~ 3.3k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ fluff and smut, pregnancy

Also available on AO3

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

taglist ~ @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02 @msdevil333 @rrnrjn @maskedpacific @yoongiwantsme @that-0ne-simp @kaislashes @charli33-b33 @finalitgirl @kawaiichookie @vexillum-moeru @blackcurrant28 @r4yyyyy @dazedin2d @mrsspector-grant

The true name of your doppelgänger is crooned into your ear.

A sound that is strangely soothing, syllables slipping like water in a brook, a gentle rush of water.

You attempt to replicate the sound and of course it doesn’t come out right. He’d warned you of this. The human tongue is incapable of replicating the foreign language.

“Why do you have such an easy time learning ours and we can’t learn yours?”

He’s gone back to the human version of his being, the tired eyes of the milkman studying your frustrated features, his fingers stroking and smoothing away the lines creasing your brow and the corners of your mouth.

“The newness of it, maybe. Yours is a relatively young race.”

You prop your head up on your hand, dragging fingernails over your lover’s chest. “How old are you?”

“Me, or my species?”

“Both.”

He turns onto his back, nestling down in the pillows. “In Earth years….we have existed for tens of thousands of years. I’m a tenth of that.”

“You are not over a thousand years old,” you murmur in disbelief.

His eyes meet yours and he smiles softly. “You’re right, I’m not. I’m teasing. Sorry, love. More like one hundredth of that.”

“A century.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Wow.” It’s hard to reconcile the idea. Despite whatever face he wears, you’ve always thought of him as near enough your own age. “An older man, huh?”

“Something like that.” He lifts the hand you have resting on his bare chest and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Is that okay?”

“It’s a little late to ask, but yes, it’s definitely okay.” You bend to kiss his mouth. “I really wanted to learn your name.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He worries his bottom lip, considering. “What if I tried to describe what it meant instead? And we discovered a language equivalent that was similar.”

“Alright,” you agree.

The milkman’s copy pauses, considering. “In Greek mythology, there was a name for something otherworldly that was borrowed from Latin, then later used to describe a kind of afterlife. Fields of paradise. An eternal resting place of bliss for the worthy. Elysium. But that notion of otherworldly is the best way to describe it. The original term is Elysian.”

“Elysian,” you try it out. It sounds nothing like what the alien had said earlier, of course, but the idea is there. “I like it. It’s pretty sounding.”

“Well, that’s it, then.”

“Elysian,” you repeat, bending to kiss his mouth again. He smiles against your lips. “You like hearing it, huh?”

“It’s pleasant, I’ll admit.”

A sudden thought occurs to you. “How do you know about Greek mythology?” You have never seen anything that indicated the milkman read classical literature.

The doppel clears his throat, looking a little nervous. “There was a professor.”

“Oh.” Of course Francis wasn’t the first human he’d ever cloned. “Did you…take him over, too?”

“No. Just replicated. Retired. Library at home.” He squirms a little, looking uncomfortable.

“Did you…” You don’t really want to give voice to the query. You’re not even sure precisely which it is. Kill? Consume?

“Sweetheart, please don’t ask me that.”

You swallow thickly. You forget, sometimes. Caught up as you are in how he is now. Denying what he used to be.

“How long ago was that?”

“I don’t remember.”

“But you remember what you read in a book.”

The doppel sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “It was awhile ago.”

“Not who you were when you…Francis…”

“No.”

“How many? How many people have you…”

He sits up, and you straighten beside him. “I don’t want to talk about this. It’s not who I am anymore. What I am. You know that.”

“I know. I just…” Your voice trails off again.

“Listen to me, sweet girl. All that matters now to me is you. Keeping you safe. Making you happy. I love you.” He plants a kiss on your bare shoulder.

“I love you, too.”

“We should go to sleep. Work in the morning. And that damned box to deal with,” he mutters, leaning to switch the bedside lamp off.

You feel him lying down again and you snuggle next to him, your head pillowed against his chest, his arm curled around you. You’re wide awake, now. Questions spiral in your mind. “Elysian?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you ever miss your planet?”

“Maybe a little. I did. Not so much now.” His arm around you tightens.

“What was it like?”

“Very green. More of a tropical climate, I suppose you would say.”

“And you left because…”

“Food shortage.”

A brisk answer. You’re not going to ask what precisely the doppels consumed in their native location. “Have you been to any other planets?”

“One. Small. We didn’t stay long.”

Another ominous answer. Not enough to eat, perhaps? Did anyone ever properly repel the invaders? Or were they an unstoppable force, like a plague of locusts sweeping the land, consuming everything in their path, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake?

“What’s it like traveling in space?”

“So many questions tonight.” His lips press against you hair. “It’s indescribable, really. Beautiful. Vast. Daunting. Someday, I would like to show you.”

There’s a lull in the conversation as you both mull over that prospect. You had never thought much about space travel. Had no real knowledge of astronomy. But the idea of exploring the stars with this creature by your side made you curious. What would it be like, to be so far away from the only home you've ever known? You feel the gentle rise and fall as the doppelgänger’s lungs expand and deflate and hear his heartbeat, slow and steady. You try to match his rhythm. A game you haven’t played since childhood. Facing off with a friend in the schoolyard. While cuddling with a parent at home. That is what he feels like to you. Home. How fiercely you want to protect him. You squeeze his shoulder.

“What happens when you run out of members of your squadron to send here for sacrifice?” You ask quietly. A concern you’ve harbored for a long time finally given voice.

“Let’s not worry about that tonight, okay? I’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

“Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“I don’t want you to be harmed, either.”

“I know, my love. Now try to sleep.”

You shut your eyes, thinking there’s no way you’ll be falling asleep anytime soon, only to find yourself proven wrong as you soon descend into slumber.

***

You awaken to darkness.

It’s early, dawn still a ways off. You reach out drowsily to find the doppelgänger sitting upright beside you in bed.

“Elysian?”

“There’s a doppel,” he says softly. “But something about it is off. I don’t…”

You’re instantly alert again, jerking upright, throwing the sheet off of you. “Where is it? Outside? On this floor?”

Had you let one in by mistake? Or was this some new intrusion?

“I’m not sure,” he replies distractedly. The weight on the mattress shifts as he rises, his face barely visible when he draws back the curtain to peer at the street below. “Not outside,” he declares. “Closer than that.”

Your pulse quickens. Inside, then.

“Wait there,” he advises. “I’ll go have a look around.”

You immediately disobey, sliding out of bed. You can’t just sit still waiting for whatever was going to happen. You pad barefoot out of the room, finding yourself in more darkness. Your fingers trail on the wall as you move forward, your feet leaving carpet and finding linoleum.

“Elysian?” You hiss, squinting, trying to detect him in the shadows.

“I told you to stay in the other room,” his voice growls from somewhere to your right. The living room. “It was gone, but now I’m sensing it again”

You bump into the couch, finally deciding it’s more of a hazard trying to find your way in the dark, invader be damned, reaching blindly until you crash into the lamp, nearly knocking it over before your fingers fumble for the switch.

Francis’ doppel paces the small apartment, even unlocking and cracking open the front door before shaking his head and shutting it again. His gaze meets yours.

“So where is it?”

He steps towards you slowly. His eyes widen. “Is it possible…”

“What?”

“Sweetheart.” He stands before you, laying a palm on your abdomen.

“I’m…”

“Carrying my baby. Our baby.” His other hand cups your cheek tenderly. “We did it, my love.”

He gathers you against him, his face burrowed into your neck. Wet. He’s crying. You’re crying, too. Weeping. Relief. Joy. A new kind of fear. Maternal instinct kicking in already.

You had to protect your unborn hybrid child.

***

There’s no sleep to be found for either of you now.

You’re cuddled on the couch, wrapped in Francis’ bathrobe, the doppelgänger’s arm curled around you protectively, waiting for the new day to begin.

“I’m afraid to make an appointment with the doctor. I should go, but…what if they find out?”

“Best not then, love. Just to be safe. You should talk to your mother. Whatever you need to be doing, what to expect…”

You nod. “We need to get married as soon as possible.”

“You’re already my wife in every way that matters, but yes, we will. Very soon.” He pauses. “I know I’ve asked you this before, and I know your reasoning behind it, but I think you should stop working for the DDD. Especially since we’re moving into your house together. There’s no reason for either of us to be anywhere near here anymore. Let’s go, sweetheart. Leave this behind. Start over. Begin our life together properly.”

“Let me give a notice. Finish this week, and the next. It’s just how we do things. Allow them time to find a replacement. We still have the box to deal with,” you remind him.

“Then you’ll leave the DDD?”

“Yes, I’ll leave.”

He sighs heavily. “Thank you.”

“What time do you think it is?”

“Maybe three? I left my watch in the other room. Can’t see the clock from here,” he murmurs against your cheek. “We still have time.”

“I was thinking we should go downstairs. Tamper with the device right now before the sun even rises.” You lean back to look at your lover. “They’ll keep working on it. There’s no guarantee they won’t succeed again. Or find another means.”

“I know. But that won’t be your fight, love. That’s for someone else to worry about.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“Yes,” he admits. “More than I ever have been. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it. Our baby is worth it.”

***

The director of the DDD requests an exit interview with you.

Really not a request, more of a requirement. You’re not entirely surprised. You didn’t think you’d escape quite that easily.

It’s been a little over a week since you and Elysian sabotaged the anti doppelgänger frequency box. Lying about the results on the survey after the allotted trial period. A temporary solution to a larger problem, but at least your doppel was safe for now.

And your baby. Your half human, half doppelgänger child nestled in your belly.

You try not to rest your hand on it as you sit before the stern faced man’s desk. Of course there is nothing visible yet, your stomach still flat, but you’d already grown accustomed to touching there. You force your hands to meet and fold together in your lap, your head bowed slightly, the very picture of meekness and subservience that seemed so favorable for women of the time.

“You’ve submitted your two weeks notice.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the reason for that is?”

“I’m getting married. Ready to settle down, start a family.”

He grunts. You can’t tell if it’s approving or not. “People don’t often leave the DDD. Not voluntarily,” he adds.

“Yes, sir. I’m aware. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I feel it’s the right one.”

“Not going to be easy to replace you. Not if you gave two months notice, let alone two weeks,” he admits grudgingly. “The DDD thanks you for your service. I’m certain you’ll still uphold the tenets of the cause, even if you’re no longer formally employed by us.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The middle aged man begins to slide a document across the desk towards you after signing it and stamping it with the official seal, only to halt at the last moment, staring hard at you. Your eyes lift to meet his.

“I understand there’s a new vacancy in that residence now. Another rare occurrence.”

“Uh, yes, sir.”

“The milkman that was missing that day of your…indiscretion. Francis Moss, wasn’t it?”

“Mosses,” you correct, then wince internally.

“Yes. Him.”

You remain silent, your hand still stretched out, reaching for the paper. Your heart thuds in your chest. Please, just let me go. Please, please…

You suddenly have the document clutched tightly in your hand. He was letting you go after all. Freedom. You force yourself to walk from the room at a dignified pace, the paper carried in front of you like a shield. When you exit the office building your tense, rigid posture relaxes and you heave a sigh of relief. Another challenge overcome on the road to forever with your doppel.

***

You love coming home to your fiancé.

Seeing his delivery truck in the driveway. Soon you’ll be the one welcoming him inside every afternoon. But for now, he’s the first one to your inherited farmhouse, waiting for you on the porch he’d raced up to kiss you all those months ago, gifting you a taste of new rain and the smell of fresh petrichor.

“How did it go?” His tone is casual but you know better, seeing his white knuckled grip on the railing.

“I’m free.” You wave the letter in the air and he snatches it from your hand, hurriedly scanning the words.

“You really are,” he murmurs, looking bewildered and relieved.

“That doesn’t mean they won’t still be watching. But for now, for now…”

He smiles at you, one arm wrapping around your waist. “Should we celebrate?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Hmmm…” He hums thoughtfully, his lips brushing your ear. “Come inside with me, love.”

***

There are little details of the house that bear traces of Francis Mosses, now. The crocheted blanket rests over your couch. The portable record player has a permanent home in your bedroom. The dresser hosts a collection of your doppel’s things: a belt, cologne, some spare change, a wooden handled hairbrush. There’s a shirt that needs mending hung on the post at the end of the bed.

“I’ll fix this later.”

“Mmm hmm.” His eyes never stray from your face. You sit on the edge of the bed and he kneels in front of you, sliding each shoe off, caressing your calves. You sink a hand into his hair, bending to plant a kiss on his forehead, inhaling his scent. Notes of bergamot, the clean citrus in his cologne. Your shampoo now in his hair. Strawberry. Everything a combination of you two. Already joined in so many ways.

His hand cups one knee, his palm warm and comforting over the joint. He slides it inside, stroking under your skirt, creeping between your thighs. He nudges at the clothing that is your work attire, shoving impatiently to gain better access. You accommodate him, pushing yourself back until you’re lying horizontally across the mattress, your skirt now rucked up around your hips, the doppel’s fingers dragging your panties out of the way.

“Need to be inside you, sweetheart.”

He’s on his hands and knees above you. You work on the fly of his pants. Your haste makes you clumsy. The metal teeth of the zipper catch on the fabric of his pants. He shakes his head, laughing softly, the sound turning to a growl when he struggles in your wake. It finally gives and he lowers himself down, guiding his cock into your entrance.

You gasp and his mouth crushes yours, swallowing the sound.

His hips press yours and you’re thinking of the nearby field with its fading summer flowers. That’s where you want to be wed. Here beneath the open sky, in this sanctuary of yours. You whisper it beside his cheek and he draws back, looking at your features. “Is that what you want, love?”

“Yes.” Your rock your pelvis against him, your legs wrapping around his body. “Elysium fields with my Elysian…”

“I love you,” he breathes. He thrusts and it hits something tender inside, the aching place deep in the hollow. Your fingers tangle together. Hot inside you. Something molten in your core. You’re melting. Clinging to him. The world shatters, comes back together in little pieces. Tired eyes gazing into your own. Soft smile.

***

You’re still tangled together.

Bodies intertwined. A comforter thrown over you both to ward off the chill of the oncoming autumn night. You’re discussing possible baby names again. You like the idea of something celestial. Named for the sun or the moon or one of the countless stars above. A constellation, an outline of a portrait when they arrange themselves just so. A planet, a galaxy. Infinite possibilities.

“It reminds me of a song,” Elysian murmurs. You’ve been taking turns tickling each other. You were losing horribly but determined to get revenge, making another attack along his unprotected ribs. He remains stoic and unresponsive despite your best efforts.

“What song?”

“Hmmm…” He hums thoughtfully. “In Other Words, I believe it’s called. How does it go?”

Fly me to the moon

And let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On-a Jupiter and Mars

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, darling, kiss me

Your heart lurches. It’s the melody. The one Francis used to hum. The replicant notices your teasing fingers grow still and he stops singing abruptly.

“What’s wrong?”

“That was the song. The one Francis used to hum all the time.”

“Oh, love. I didn’t realize…”

“Of course not. It’s okay. I’m okay.” Your eyes feel a little full, tears brimming.

“I know you still love him. I wouldn’t ask you not to. That wouldn’t be fair.” He drags a thumb across each cheek, close to your lashes, collecting the salted liquid. “He’s always going to be present in some regard. But I can’t resent him. I have to love him a little bit, too. Because he brought me to you.”

“What if I’d called the DDD that day? What if…” More tears escape. You’re suddenly overwhelmed. If you’d contacted the disposal team and destroyed him, this person that has become your world, created a new life with you…This song was what had finally swayed you. Another gift from Francis.

“Sweetheart. You didn’t. You let me into the building. Into your heart. There’s nothing there to be sorry about, from your perspective anyway. If I had to choose again, I would not see you hurt, I would not want to take him from you, but love, how could I ever give you up? I can’t. I could never. You’re carrying our future. You’re my forever.”

His lips graze yours. Your fingers curl around the back of his neck, drawing him more firmly against your mouth. “Sing the rest for me. I want to know all the words.”

Fill my heart with song

And let me sing forever more

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

In other words, please be true

In other words, I love you

“I love you.”

You’re joined again. Hips and hands and mouths.

Maybe one day in the future you will be brave enough to travel with the alien into space. Explore the wonders of the heavens with your children by your side.

For now, you are content in this bliss on earth.

[boypussydilf]

the idea that simon just needs to find a way to have magic and be sane is one of the most egregiously thoughtless missing-the-entire-point takes i’ve ever seen. with my disclaimer that i’m not remotely endorsing or seriously suggesting this: i’m surprised no one’s mentioned the fact that we’ve multiple times seen people use the crown’s magic without any of the mental effect. after flame princess destroys most of the ice kingdom, IK gives the crown to gunter to rebuild it, and again in thanks for the crabapples guiseppe, he gives it to abracadaniel and it lets him use ice magic just fine. the crown only has its full effect on one person at a time, and doesn’t seem to bond to a new wearer until the current one is dead… but it’ll give anyone who wears it magic.

In conclusion obviously the solution is for Simon to just take an ice crown that’s already being used (:

[ambrosiagoldfish]

I loved your Adam x 3rd spouse piece! I think you really captured his personality! I also just really like you're writing style! You did an qmzyjob and I think you'll continue make amazing pieces like this? Have a wonderful day or night and continue to rest if you can! 🥰🥰🥰

Benefit of the doubt Pt.3

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angsty, General Adam TW’s, Reader HIGHKEY has a complex about being loved, Reader finally talks about their issues, Lucifer and Lilith scout for new kissing partner but fails miserably/hj, Lilith will probably be OOC in the future (once Season 2 comes), Adam has abandonment issues, Adam is a puppy in private but a bitch in public, And the couch returns once again (why do all the sad things happen on this couch), This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader! (Annnnnd We popped the Y/n cherry! It’s used only once tho)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Request box: Open

Word count: 3664

A/N: Hi!!! Thanks so much! I’m using your request as the ask for part 3 so I hope that’s ok! You all were so nice with all the love for part 1 and 2 😭😭🫶🫶 this part is also pretty long but I just couldn’t stop writing it. I wanted to do 1 more part set in the past before we jump to the angst that is the show. So I guess you could call this the penultimate part! A lot of people wanted to see Lucifer hit on Reader and try to do what he did with Lilith and Eve but with Reader. And I had quite a hard time coming up with a reason that could occur in the past but I think I figured it out.

Since Luci and Lilith would still be together at this time I’ve decided to add Lilith in as well for POLY GOALS. Also they may seem malicious but I genuinely don’t think they are (they just find Reader hot LBH) 😭😭 Also I added a few more people to the tag list!

Tags: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily

It’s been a while since Adam first moved into your newly shared home. You weren’t sure exactly how long, it was hard to keep track of time in heaven. Days seemed to blur together. It made sense to you at least, it is heaven after.

After Adam moved in, your life was filled with so many new things to experience with him, and the same was true for him. While he may seem a bit brutish, (and at times he can be) he loved the new things you showed him, the new feelings you showed him.

You were so kind, so thoughtful and so, so patient with him. You never forced him to do something he didn’t want to do but you would still push him to explore new things, even managing to convince him to be a part of heaven's official duties. That’s why, at times like these, you knew exactly what to do.

The sound of Adam slamming the front door as he entered the house made you jump. Even from a few feet away, you could hear him mumbling curses about something as he plopped himself down on the couch. You followed quickly behind, gently laying next to him

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You try to keep your voice light and soothing. Looking at him it was obvious that something was bothering him. The gold feathers of his wings were unkempt from them flaring up, his halo was slightly crooked and his LED mask showed an almost snarled expression.

Your hand slowly caressed his wings, moving the out of place feathers back to normal. But no matter how hard you tried they would stick back out.

“It’s nothing, just some lame shitty meeting I have to go to tomorrow” he crosses his arms and looks away from you.

“Hmm? Something tells me there’s more to it than that, right?” You snuggle into his belly, rubbing it softly .

His mask pouts “Dammit’ bitch, how do you always see through me, huh?” He sighs defeatedly before continuing “You know how more people are starting to kick the bucket or whatever? Well, heaven’s worried about the surplus of sinners so they're having the aforementioned shitty meeting to come to a solution and…”

He pauses

“And?” You look at him anticipatingly

“And… He’ll be there.” Oh… So that's why he’s upset. “They’re having the meeting in their brand new “heaven embassy” down in hell.” His voice mocks

“Oh, I’m so sorry Adam, Have you tried asking Sera if you can sit this one out?”

Adam groans, putting his face in his hands “Yeah like forty fucking times but she keeps saying that it’s my “heavenly duty” and she won’t let me.”

You bring your arms around Adam’s neck pulling him in towards you. You weren’t sure what to do if you were being honest. There’s nothing you can do really, if even Sera won’t let him miss it. Hmm…

“Adam, I know it’s gonna suck but if you can’t get out of it, then that’s that.” Adam looks at you a little confused “but I can go with you, I’m sure Sera wouldn’t mind an extra pair of hands in the discussion.”

“What! Hell no!” He shouted as he sat up from the couch, shaking his head defiantly.

You look at him confused, “Why?”

“That’ll only make the whole thing fucking worse! If it’s just me, I don’t have to worry that he’ll get anywhere near you!” Adam’s mask turns into a slight grimace as he attempts to keep his eyes off you.

You make your way to him, the sound of your footsteps falling off as you stop in front of him. You grab his hand as the other one moves up to his face, cupping it.

“Adam…” you rubbed circles on his hand as you continued “We’re partners. You haven’t forgotten my promise right?” You play with the golden ring on his finger.

Adam groans “No, I haven’t… sigh Shit- Fine! But… just stay by me, alright?” Your face lights up before your arms wrap around his shoulders joining you both in an embrace

“Of course,” you rub his wings gently before you grasp his hands in yours, leading him by them. “Come on, you must be tired right? It’s getting late. Couch or bed?”

“Couch. I’m way not in the mood to make a bed right now.” You laugh at his comment as you pull him to lay on the couch with you. His soft, warm body pushes up against you as you both slowly drift off to sleep for the day ahead.

-

A not-too familiar sight laid before you, the pearly gates of heaven, guarded by the one and only Saint Peter. There was no real reason for you to ever come here. You never had the chance to die, which is when most, if not all Winners see it for the first time. No one’s allowed to leave heaven unless given permission by a higher up and on top of all that, you weren’t really that enticed to leave the oh-so perfect afterlife, so there had never been a reason to see these golden gates.

But now, here you were standing behind them with some other angels. You didn’t know most of them, the only ones you recognized were Sera and Adam. As expected, it was pretty easy to convince Sera to let Adam take you along. They even prepared an extra wide seat for both of you to share. How generous!

Ever since you woke up this morning, Adam had been… Nervous? Scared? The right word doesn’t really matter but he’s been sweating buckets and was clearly more agitated than normal. His feathers were once again unkempt and you tried your best to keep them in order but he always seemed to get them messy.

Eventually, right on schedule, a flaming portal opened in front of the group. Sera was the first to enter, then followed by the others. Finally it was just you and Adam but as you take a step towards the portal, Adam stops you

“What is it?” You look up at him.

“Just… stay by me, ok?” Adam’s voiced was softer than normal, a way he only did when you two were alone

Nodding your head with a smile, your hand comes down and interlocks his. One of his bright golden wings veils itself around you, bringing you closer to him. You snuggle into him slightly before you both step into the portal.

You didn’t know what to expect when you stepped through the portal but a sight that was almost like home awaited you. The familiar gold that heaven was so fond of was everywhere in the building, accents of white and orange were also present. All and all, it was a familiar sight in a not-so familiar place.

But there was definitely something that wasn’t familiar in that place. Sitting in a chair at the end of the room was him, Lucifer Morningstar. The aura he had definitely made him seem angelic but there was clearly something about him that separated himself from divinity. Though you do have to admit that he was much shorter than you anticipated.

There was something that surprised you however, to his left sat a tall woman with long blond hair and horns. It took you a second to put 2&2 together but when you heard Adam mutter “Shit…” you knew immediately it was Lilith. And from Adam’s reaction even he wasn’t expecting her to be there.

You squeeze his hand gently as comfort, giving him a smile before you both walk to your seat. Your body is pushed closer to him as his wing wraps tighter around you. Looks like there’s no calming him down.

Finally the meeting starts, Sera begins by explaining the issue of the fast growing population in hell, leading to groups trying to form uprisings against heaven. To be honest you didn’t really understand it too well, just a lot of business-y sounding words that weren't really your forte. So you just stayed quiet.

From what you could tell, the meeting was going… well? They haven’t been able to agree on a proper decision even with Sera leading the conversation. Adam though, was being eerily quiet. You don't even think he’s said a word since you both got there. Sera seemed to notice this.

“Adam, want to share any ideas?” Sera spoke in an encouraging tone slightly gesturing to him. This seemed to catch Lucifer and Lilith’s attention. Maybe they didn’t recognize Adam because of the mask?

Adam was caught off guard but still talked “Oh uh… Man, I don’t know, can’t we just fucking kill them?” Both you and Sera looked over in surprise, “What? That would solve the problem wouldn't it? “ He shrugged

Sera sighed “Ok, how about we take a short recess to clear our minds to let in new ideas. We’ll resume the meeting in 30 minutes”

With that, everyone went their separate ways for the time being, you and Adam were the first to leave the board room, he practically was pulling you along and you could tell he wanted out of there. You both ended up in the lobby, neither of you saying a word.

The silence was so very loud. The only sound was yours and Adam’s breathing. Adam’s hand was still firmly tied to yours, not even the slightest hint of letting go. You rubbed your thumb in circles over his hand when a voice echoed through the air

“Adam, may I have a word?” Sera’s voice echoed lightly through the lobby. She gestured to a door next to her. You both made your way over to her and was about to go in when Sera put her hand in front of Adam stopping him

“What the hell Sera?!”

“Alone, please.”

Adam’s LED eyes widened his mouth slightly agape. He looked down with a scowl before turning his face to you. Your free hand going up to his mask, caressing it.

“Go talk with Sera,”

“But-“

“Shh, I’ll be fine,” You give him a kiss on the cheek, the cold of the metallic mask reaching your lips, “I’ll just be in the lobby, I won’t go anywhere till you get back. Ok?” Adam didn’t look at you, clearly avoiding eye contact, you grab his chin lightly and gently turn him to look at you,

“Ok?”

Adam’s mouth formed a frown and he groaned “Fuck- fine, ok…” You gave him a smile as Sera walked into the room, you felt his grip loosen and loosen, until finally his soft hand left yours as he walked into the room. He gave one final look back before closing the room's door.

Silence filled the air once again. It wasn’t like it was with Adam, that comfortable silence that you shared ever so often. This one laid in the air, thick and heavy, threatening to suffocate you at any given moment. You sat on one of the many yellow and white sofas in the lobby.

You tried your best to ignore it. Paying attention to less important details about the scenery around you. The weird zigzagging pattern of the carpet of the floor, the intricate designs on the doors, the huge windows. Heaven sure had a unique taste in interior design.

You tried so hard to ignore the silence that you eventually ignored the sound that broke said silence. Footsteps began echoing through the lobby approaching you. You didn’t realize someone was next to you until you heard a voice say.

“Ahem Hello!” A male voice startled you as it chimed in with a sickening sweet tone. You look towards the direction of the voice only to be greeted by the king of hell himself, Lucifer. You jumped back to the other side of the sofa in shock.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya.” He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Lucifer, But judging on your reaction, I guess you already knew that. I’ve never seen you before so you must be relatively new, right?”

You nodded your head sheepishly to answer his question. You honestly didn’t know what else to do, what could you do? You slowly picked yourself up from the sofa.

“I’m sorry but I have to go-“ you turn to leave only to bump into a tall woman. You must have been so surprised by Lucifer that you completely missed Lilith coming up behind you.

“But we haven’t even learned your name yet, Dear.” The woman’s voice sounded both somber but also welcoming, it was quite frightening how much it could calm your nerves if you kept listening to it. “How about we talk? No harm in it, right?”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Darling!” Lucifer came up from behind you, a sharp smile on his face. “Come on, sit and chat!”

Crap… they had you cornered. You had no telling what they’d do if you set them off, you wanted the meeting to go as smoothly as possible, for Adam. A few minutes to indulge them. that’s it.

You bit your lip but sighed “Ok… but just a few minutes”

“Great!” Lilith took your shoulders moving you to sit down beside her as Lucifer sat on the other side, sandwiching you between them. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment but decided it was better to get the conversation over with as quickly as possible.

“Y/n”

“That’s a very beautiful name,” Lucifer spoke, his tone trying to make him sound almost charming, almost. “So, if you don’t mind us asking, who are you to… Adam?” He gestured over to the door Sera and Adam went through earlier.

“I’m his spouse.” This time you answered with complete confidence, not even a shred of hesitation in your voice.

“Ah!” Lucifer nodded his head in understanding. “How’s that going?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I for one know how much of a hassle that man-child is,” Lilith laughs, covering her mouth slightly “I asked around, is it true he hasn’t taken that ridiculous mask off since he got it, hmm? Has he even shown you his real face yet?”

“No but-“

“He can be so… tiresome at times, don’t you agree?”

“No. I don’t. Adam is the best thing to ever happen to me-“

“Exactly.” Lucifer interrupted you as your eyes furrowed “You don’t have anything else to compare it to. Of course you’d see trash like the “first man” as the best thing ever.”

Trash. That word really set you off, at least it would have, if it wasn’t for the next sentence .

“But hey! It’s fine! Eve was the same way! You too are honestly very alike, let me tell you-“

Thousands upon thousands of thin threads binding you up. That’s what this conversation felt like. Each annoyance was just a new thread getting tighter and tighter as they were pulled taut, threatening to simply slice through your body, your soul. But they didn’t, instead they kept stretching past their limits until finally those words came.

Like… Eve. It felt like each of those tightly pulled threads were all cut at once with those words. Any and all tension suddenly seemed to disappear. A strange sensation of losing any care about your situation.

You know what? To hell with the meeting! You quickly stood up from the sofa causing them both to jump slightly. You turned toward them, your voice was louder than you thought was possible for you. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you but you felt so… Angry.

“I am nothing like Eve. And I’m especially nothing like either of you.” You had enough, it was untelling what would happen if you stayed. You started walking toward the room Adam was in when Lucifer grabbed your arm

“Wait! That’s not what I meant-“

“Don’t touch me, snake” you stared daggers at him before quickly grabbing his hand and shoving it off.

“We’re sorry if we upset you Dear, but that’s no way to talk to someone” Lilith walks up to you, putting an arm in front of Lucifer in a protective stance.

You walk up to the tall woman, she was at least two heads taller than you but still, you barred your teeth before speaking “Oh! You really think I care about what the first whore thinks of me, Huh?” Your voice dripped with poison from every word.

Even Lilith seemed caught off guard by your sudden change in demeanor as her face turned into a scowl. Red horns protruded through Lucifer’s head, his eyes turning red with anger. You turn your attention back to him.

“What are you gonna do?” Lucifer’s gaze slightly softened with hesitation “Exactly, nothing. Less’ you want to dig yourself deeper into this cyst pool you’ve created for yourself and end up on even worse terms with heaven.”

Without even sparing them a glance, you try to make it to the room, only to be greeted by Adam and Sera standing by the door. How long were they standing there? You must have not heard them over your screaming..

“What the fuck are you assholes doing to them? ” You rush over and grab him by the hand, the action startling him “Babe, what happened-“

“Nothing. Sera. Open a portal back home.”

“But-“

“Sera!” Your voice was gritty and rough “open a portal. Now... Please…” your voice cracked at the end

Sera had never seen you show so much anger before, but here you were, your entire gaze filled with nothing but pure unadulterated wrath.Threatening to burn anyone who got in your way. Whatever happened clearly set you off like nothing else before.

Sera nods her head “Understood”

“Thank you…”

A familiar flaming portal opened up, you quickly made your way through it with Adam following suit. The portal ended up right inside your home, closing as you both were fully through. You honestly didn’t know where you were going but eventually your body couldn’t go any further than the couch

Feeling the soft couch beneath you made your aching muscles feel like they were melting away, and only then did you realize that you were crying.

Adam crawled next to you, hugging close to you. “What the happened out there, Babe?”

You felt your body slowly break down, as more tears left you then you had cried your entire existence. Adam hugged you tighter, his wings coming over you like a blanket.

“H-How much did you see?” Your voice was shaky as you sniffed slightly.

“Not a lot, just some shit towards the end,what did those bastards say to you?”

You cleared your throat slightly. “I only talked to them because I didn’t want them to get upset and ruin the meeting and make your day even worse than it already was”

Adam’s LED mask shifted into a small sad frown “Sweetheart, you never have to talk to any motherfuckers you don’t want to, let alone for me. “

You smile but look away “it wasn’t… it wasn’t…” you tried to get the words out but couldn’t. You took a deep breath before trying one more time,”It wasn’t the only thing that set me off.” Adam looks at you curious

“They said that I reminded them of… Eve, and it just made me so… angry. I was created for you, to love you-“ your tears start swelling back up as you spoke “I want to be so much better than Eve, than Lilith for you. And then she pointed out how I’ve never seen Your face, which I’ve always been fine with, but at that moment, I started to think ‘what if they’re right?’ What if the reason you don’t want me to see you is because I also remind you of Eve”

You choked back tears “So to be compared to her when I’ve tried so hard… if I’m not better than her for you, then what is even the point of me! I was created to make you happy, if I can’t do that better than someone who hurt you so bad then I’m just useless-“

Soft lips met yours, cutting you off. This felt different than what you normally got on the cheek. It was warm compared to the cold metallic feel you’ve felt previously. Your eyes opened slightly looking at Adam’s LED mask… or what you thought was going to be a mask. He had pulled his mask off while you were crying.

You pulled back from the kiss “Adam your mask!” Adam just kisses back again

“That fucking thing doesn’t matter right now.” He paused “You're not useless and will never be useless to me. Fuck- I love you because I love you! Not because you were created for me or some stupid shit like that! You make me so fucking happy. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you were just some object that was made to make me feel better, because you aren’t.”

“Adam…” to think tears could roll down your face this harder than before “I love you so much Adam” you cry into his soft chest.

Adam kisses you again “I love you too Sweetcheeks.” Adam paused before clearing his throat “So umm… how do I look? I hope I didn't disappoint you…”

You look up at his newly unveiled face, just as you had been told, short brown hair, golden eyes, and a little bit of stubble on his chin. By all accounts, he was completely ordinary. So ordinarily perfect.

“Perfect. So so perfect. What’d I do to end up with such a handsome husband, hmm?”

“Oh stop, now you’re just being fucking cheesy” he laughs, he would never admit it but his eyes were a little watery just from hearing you say that.

“It’s true though” you lean in and wrap your arms around him, killing you both with a deep kiss.

Truly ordinary. You couldn’t be happier

[theemporium]

a wee blurb based off this and a conversation with @scuderiahoney 🤠

.

Oscar Piastri never got drunk, at least not in front of his fellow Formula One colleagues. 

It wasn’t obvious at first. He was a rookie, a new kid on the grid, the new guy who kind of started off with a bang before he even sat in the car with all the drama surrounding his contract. It wasn’t out of this world to assume he was a little shy and didn’t feel all that comfortable getting drunk with people who had known each other for years. 

But the season progressed and friendships grew, and yet still Oscar Piastri just never seemed to get drunk. 

He would have a drink or two, maybe a bottle of beer on top if he had a big meal beforehand. But he never passed the point of tipsy, never passed the point where he wasn’t totally aware of what he was doing. 

Lando had cornered Logan Sargeant after one of the races, hell bent on trying to figure out what the deal was with his teammate. 

“So what’s Oscar’s deal with drinking?” 

The blond turned to him, brows raised in surprise. “What?” 

“What’s his deal? Why does he not go beyond three drinks?” Lando questioned, insistent and eager for answers. 

“I don’t think that’s in my place to say—” Logan started before he was cut off. 

“Is he a recovering alcoholic?” 

Logan blinked. “What?” 

“I’m not judging!” Lando quickly added, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I’d just feel like a right dick if I was pushing him to do something he was recovering from, you know?” 

“And you went straight to alcoholism?” Logan shook his head. “Dude, did it ever occur to you that maybe he just doesn’t like drinking?” 

Lando narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Have you ever seen him drunk?” 

Logan paused, only for a few seconds but it was enough to make the Brit gasp. 

“You have!” Lando grinned when he noticed a flush spread across Logan’s face. “Oh god, that must mean it’s embarrassing! What’s the deal, huh? Does he start stripping after four drinks? Get angry? Turn into the Incredible Hulk?” 

Logan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think Oscar would appreciate me saying, he gets shy about it.”

The Brit let out a huff. “You’re no fun to gossip with, Sargeant.” 

But as it would turn out, Lando and the rest of the grid would find out exactly why Oscar never went beyond his three drink limit in the Aussie’s second season. 

The season was young, the car was good and by some fucking miracle, Oscar had found himself on the podium at his home race. It was a thrill he never expected to feel, it was a buzz that he felt himself slowly becoming addicted to. And the fact there was a large group of people he called home cheering him on when he accepted his trophy definitely didn’t help. 

He was on a high and he didn’t want to stop—and neither did the drinks. It seemed like every driver he bumped into in the small club seemed eager to buy him a drink to celebrate, and Oscar was so high on adrenaline that he couldn’t bring himself to care about his limit. 

It was somewhere after his fifth drink and his third round of shots when Lando found him. He looked lost as he stood in the middle of the dance floor, his lips turned down (almost in a pout) and his wide eyes looking around the place. 

Lando frowned, making his way over as he clapped his teammate on the shoulder. “You all good, mate?” 

To his surprise, Oscar shrugged his hand off with a frown. “No.”

Lando blinked, something quite like concern bubbling inside him. “No? Did something happen?” 

“I—” Oscar paused as he continued to look around the club. “I want her.” 

“Huh?” 

“I want—” Oscar let out a frustrated noise, almost a bit like a whine. “I want my girl. Where’s my girl?” 

Realisation slowly dawned on Lando as he noted the fact you weren’t with your boyfriend. He knew you joined them at the club, the three of you had taken a taxi together but he hadn’t seen you in a few hours. 

“Uh, I don’t know, mate,” Lando answered honestly, which didn’t feel the right thing to say as Oscar began to push through the crowd. “Woah, Oscar—”

“I want my girl,” Oscar muttered once again, barely audible over the blasting music. 

Lando was quick to follow him through the crowd, aimlessly trying to help and make Oscar stand in one place so they could text you but the boy seemed hell bent on having you in his arms in that second. 

It took five minutes—five long, agonising minutes—before they found you. The second Oscar’s eyes landed on you, it was like the pouty boy from before was nowhere to be seen as a huge grin took over his face. 

“MY GIRL!” 

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle as your boyfriend barrelled towards you, wrapping his arms around you and practically pressing every inch of his body against yours. 

Lando watched as you hugged him back, as your grin matched his whilst you pressed a kiss to his cheek. He waited for the two of you to pull apart, to stand shoulder to shoulder because that was usually as touchy as either of you got in public. 

But Oscar didn’t let go. 

“Baby,” you murmured, your voice soft and amused as Oscar nuzzled his head further into the crook of your neck. 

“Uh,” Lando couldn’t even help himself, the alcohol in his system fuelling his confusion and loose lips. “Is he okay?” 

You turned to the Brit, a smile on your lips. “Oh yeah, he just gets a bit…clingy when he’s drunk.” 

“M’not clingy,” Oscar grumbled but he made no move to pull himself away from you. 

“Of course not,” you mused as your hands fell to either side of his cheeks, lifting his head enough to press a kiss to his forehead before letting it fall down to lean on your shoulder again. You turned to Lando with a shrug. “We’ll probably head out now. You joining us?” 

“Nah,” Lando waved you off, still somewhat flabbergasted by what he was witnessing. “You think you’ll get him home alright by yourself?” 

You snorted. “He’s basically a big baby at this point, I’ve got him.” 

“M’not a baby,” Oscar huffed out. 

You only grinned in response. “C’mon, baby, let’s go.” 

Oscar lifted his head, blinking slowly with a hopeful look on his face. “Cuddles?” 

“Cuddles,” you confirmed, waving the Brit goodbye before you made your way towards the exit of the club. 

Lando stood there, mouth agape as he stared at your parting figures when Logan found him. The American was grinning from ear to ear, taking a long dreg from his beer bottle. 

“It would’ve been less of a mindfuck if he was an alcoholic, right?” Logan commented with a snort. 

“I feel…dirty seeing him so touchy,” Lando whispered. 

Logan laughed. “Yeah, just be glad you haven’t seen him when he’s high yet.” 

Lando’s head snapped around, looking both intrigued and alarmed. “Why? What is he like when he’s high?” 

The boy grinned wider.

“LOGAN, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

.

[sreidisms]

Early seasons Reid and with BAU!reader whom just has a HUGE crush on her and Gideon has to spell it out to Spencer? I just love season 1/2 Reid. Him in glasses just makes me swoon ❤️

THIS IS SO CUTE, like it's so probable too. I didn't understand if you meant that Gideon had to spell out that Spencer likes the reader or that the reader likes Spencer, so I went with the former. If you wanted the latter, tell me and I'll write it!

An Oblivious Genius

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer has feelings for you but is too oblivious to realise - Gideon helps him.

Genre: subtle fluff

Word Count: 862

Warnings: none

A/N: the way I ended this leaves it open to a part two, so please comment if you'd like one!

“I think you have feelings for her.”

“Huh?”

Gideon didn’t lift his gaze from the newspaper in his hands, the wrinkles on his forehead peeking from behind the inked folio. “I said, you may have feelings for her, Reid.”

Spencer never turned to anyone for help, because why would he? He knew more than anyone else when it came to most things - well, except socially. And emotionally. And anything having to do with you.

The only person that wouldn’t bruise his ego was Gideon - his mentor, his guidance. He held more of a God-like presence than a fatherly one for Reid; his advice and experience were almost holy, a dogma which Spencer believed and followed without questioning.

So when his number one source of truth told him he had a crush on you, it was a shock.

“I don’t think that’s the case-”

“Reid.”

Spencer stopped his attempted rambling as Gideon’s eyes made an appearance from behind the lowered paper.

“Just repeat what you were telling me at the start of the conversation,” the older man sighed.

Spencer shifted on his legs, picking at the rolled up sleeve that was settled by his elbow.

“I know she’s my closest friend, the person I feel most comfortable with, although she’s been working here for less time than everyone else. It’s probably because she doesn’t interrupt me and listens when I talk.” He paused for a second, the corner of his mouth lifting into a subtle smile. “I like that.”

“What else?” urged Gideon, setting his newspaper on the desk in front of him.

“I get really excited to see her. Well, I enjoy seeing Derek and Elle too, but I get this weird feeling at the pit of my stomach when I see her.” He pressed his palm to his sternum, showing the origin of the sensation.

“That’s because she means more to you.”

“Yes, but surely not in the way you’re implying. It could be heart burn; do you know that twenty percent of Americans suffer from a gastroesophageal reflux at least once a week-”

“You’re telling me you happen to experience heart burn each time she enters the room?”

Gideon raised an eyebrow, making the younger agent feel dumb for such an improbable conclusion.

“Okay … okay maybe not, the two variables cannot be fully independent of each other if they occur simultaneously every time.”

It was surprising to Gideon that such an intelligent and well-rounded person could be so oblivious to something as romantic feelings. He pressed his thumb and index finger into his eyes, rubbing them slowly and dragging his fingers down his cheeks, buying himself some time to think.

“I think an obvious question is, do you think she’s pretty?” he asked and waved his hand to the side.

Spencer bit his lower lip. He thought you were the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes on if he had to be entirely honest; but he couldn’t admit that, not out loud at least.

“I do.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say, Gideon? That I think that she’s breath-taking and there’s not a thing about her I don’t like?” He said it with a certain anger, one that was buried somewhere deep inside him, a result of the pent up emotions and anxieties in his chest.

“Is that the truth?” You’d think that with his profiling experience, he would have learnt to mask the way he was suppressing the fluttery feelings and adoration he had for you.

Gideon sighed before speaking again: “What are the signs that one is supressing emotions?”

“Struggling to identify and express feelings or appearing emotionally distant, unexpected mood swings, and avoidance of specific topics, people, or situations.”

“And doesn’t that seem to mirror what you’re going through?”

Spencer thought about it. He was definitely finding it challenging to pin point his emotions, he couldn’t really understand what he felt for you; he didn’t really have mood swings, but had just lashed out at his mentor over a comment; and he certainly avoided the topic of liking you or the teasing of such from his workmates.

“Shit, I like her.”

Gideon chuckled at his out-of-character swearing. “First off, watch your language. Secondly, I’m glad you’ve come round.” He laid back in his chair once more, lifting up the paper to continue his reading.

The young genius didn’t know what to do with this newfound information. He liked you. More than liked you, really. He was fascinated by your mere existence, your kindness, your humour, and most definitely your looks. How hadn’t he realised this sooner?

“What do I do now?” he mumbled, taking off his glasses to wipe them on his button-up shirt.

“You tell her you like her.”

Spencer near snapped his glasses in half with the way the pads of his fingers pressed firmly in shock.

“You want me to do what?”

“Reid, it’s not a secret that she has a soft spot for you.”

The boy sputtered, jaw opening and closing like a door on rusted hinges. “I- I can’t do that!”

The newspaper rustled as Gideon flipped the page. “One of you will eventually.”

God I need him, he's such a cutie

[periprose]

Neteyam and reader going on a diving trip together to catch fish, and Tuk and Tsireya catch them kissing underwater :D please??

Aww my heart :') this was too cute not to write ASAP lol

Fishing For Kisses

When Neteyam asks if you'll teach him how to catch fish underwater, you can hardly say no. You love your trips together, especially when no one else is around.

Word count: 1.3k

Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers

Reader’s name is Payo. She is of the Metkayina

“Please. Dad said I need to pull my weight around here.” Neteyam is pestering you to take him fishing. 

There’s no way you’re going to say no, but you like holding out just a tad bit longer, watching as Neteyam pleads. It’s fun to watch his eyes turn serious, as he squints at you, waiting for an answer.

“Who says you’re not pulling your weight? You helped me mend the bridge just a few days ago.” You motion towards the new taut wrappings on the bridge, in front of your family’s marui hut. 

“Not enough.” Neteyam comes a little closer, his hand brushing your forearm. You look up at him. “I should be able to learn fast, so I won’t have to bother you to come help me all the time.”

“Oh?” You peer upwards at him, a teasing smile working it’s way on to your face. “Are you saying you don’t want my company?”

“No, no-” Neteyam looks down, clearly shy. “I like that you help me, Payo. I just can’t be annoying about it, y’know?”

“It’s okay, Neteyam.” You giggle cheerfully, and he glances back at you, unaware of how enraptured he is when he looks at you. “The people are meant to stay together.”

He nods, not quite looking away even when you pull him aside to start walking.

/

“Okay.” You’re on your ilu, and Neteyam is on his. You’ve driven out a bit farther into the reef where there will be many fish swimming about. “You ready?”

Neteyam nods with a determined, steely gaze, taking the water bow that you’ve given him off of his back, and you motion for him to dive in the water with you, disconnected from your ilu.

Bubbles shimmer as you jump in, and Neteyam grins at the sight of the flora and fauna underwater, before you wave at him.

Follow me. You sign, and Neteyam swims after you. His gait is still a little awkward- his long legs that are great at being sturdy in the forest trees lack the fluidity that yours have- and as you swim with grace, your legs and long tail moving from side to side in a rhythm that Neteyam can’t replicate? He feels a little jealous. Maybe a little wistful at how cool you are.

You turn back, your hair making a flowing halo around you, and smile at him. Neteyam feels warm, pausing for just long enough that you stare at him in mild confusion. He shakes his head, trying to ignore the burgeoning feelings of attraction that seem to occur whenever he stares at you.

You’re too pretty.

You pull him beside some large weeds, and point to the large shoal of fish, swimming in the currents towards deeper parts of the oceans. Neteyam’s only got a few minutes until they all swim too far for him to reach.

Your arm brushes his as you wade in the water, and you pull out your own bow to show him exactly how to do it.

Neteyam, who seems extraordinarily focused, is already drawing back his own string, and before you can tell him not to get so ahead of himself, he lets go of the arrow, which immediately shoots deeply into the biggest fish.

It begins to sink, and Neteyam swims after it, holding it eagerly as you stare on in shock. You accidentally breathe out, a large gasp of air bubbles clouding your features, and you swim upwards to recoup your breath.

“Payo, check it out- I did it!” Neteyam waves the fish and arrow in front of you.

“Yeah, you did, Neteyam.” You’re silent for just a few moments longer.

“...Payo?” 

 You splash him, drenching his features, and Neteyam looks at you in surprise, spluttering. 

“You- told- me- that you didn’t- know how to- fish!” You splash him with every single pause. “Why did you lie to me, huh?”

“I didn’t-” Neteyam tries to answer, but the water splashing is too much for him to speak through, so he slings his bow around his back again, and grabs your arms, holding them to his chest. Your hands splay out against his torso. 

“You didn’t lie?” You look at him, not really mad about that. You’re a little too close to him now to really be angry.

Neteyam’s gaze softens as he looks back at you. “Okay, fine. I guess I did. My dad always called me ‘the mighty fisherman.’”

“So there was nothing to be taught.” You bite your lip. “Then why did you want me here? Other than to impress me.”

Neteyam pauses for a moment, and then grins a little, having been caught, staring down at your mouth. “Would it be fair if I said I like having you around?”

“Sure, but you could have just said that instead of pretending you needed to be taught anything.” You smile upwards at him, and you come a little too close- any closer and Neteyam’s nose would be brushing your own.

“I still do. I can’t swim as well as you do.” Neteyam sighs, and the little puff of breath hits your cheek. You feel yourself turn warm under Neteyam’s gaze- it’s a lot to take in at once- it’s like he’s staring at you as if you’re some impossibly amazing girl.

“No one can swim as well as me.” You laugh a little, but Neteyam looks even more enamoured by that, his eyes not once leaving your face. “My dad named me Payo- little fish- when I was just a couple days old. I was already swimming a lot back then.”

“Hmm. Fisherman-” He points to himself. 

“Fish.” He points at you. “See what I’m getting at?”

“Dork.” You try to pull away, knowing that he means something along the lines of catching you. You roll your eyes, smirking, but Neteyam doesn’t let go of your arms.

He grasps your face, pulling you close, and leans in, pressing his mouth against yours. Your eyes widen, and you close them, letting Neteyam’s lips move against your own. 

When you kiss back, you both begin to sink under the water, as you’re not treading anymore. You think you should pull Neteyam upwards, but he stays firmly in place, kissing you softly, and you wrap your arms around his neck, not trying to go anywhere.

/

Tuk is swimming around in circles as Tsireya tries to wrangle her correctly.

Tsireya gently grabs her hand, and motions to swim forward. Tuk eagerly does so, knowing that Tsireya promised to show her some of the rainbow coloured pools that shimmer underwater. 

Tsireya doesn’t notice it at first, but Tuk suddenly grabs her arm, little grunts coming out of her as she tries to call her attention.

What is it? Tsireya signs, and Tuk points just beyond the seaweed. Tsireya looks through, pushing aside a strand with her arms.

It’s you and Neteyam, both just floating underwater as you’re stuck together in what looks to be a very intimate embrace. His hands are tracing your chin and jaw, and your arms are gathered around his neck. Your lips are moving in sync- you’re in an entirely different world together.

Tsireya opens her mouth in surprise- and laughs. Tuk starts making sounds, and Neteyam and you both let go of each other, hearing the disturbance. You wave at them.

You all swim upwards, needing air, and Neteyam is the one who’s easily embarrassed, so he’s already putting his face in his hands, while you keep your arm around his side.

“So. What were you two up to underwater?” Tsireya teases, and you giggle as Neteyam’s arm comes around your waist. 

“Just fishing, I guess.” You reply, and Tuk laughs, a mischievous look working it’s way onto her face.

“I’m telling mom!” She swims forward, and Neteyam groans. 

“This is gonna be fun.” He sighs.

[darkmuffinstudios]

Was bored and decided to create a silly little one-shot of Errormare for @inkywellcrow 🤭

Who knows, I might get more motivation to make more parts, I might not haha

Baking One-Shot (Errormare) (1.7k words)

Darkxsoulzyxcaliberx

Dream’s birthday (and by extension, Nightmare’s) was only a few days away, and the two most dastardly villains of the multiverse were in the middle of making something for it.

You see, after many decades of struggle, the two guardians grew weary of the constant back-and-forth and had since settled on a truce; No more bloodshed and no more overbearing war meetings. After so long, however, the two had long since forgotten times of peace. It was nothing more than echoes of what could have been, as well as what once was… So, as always in their relationship, Nightmare decided to be the first to extend one of many olive branches that will occur down the line.

To show a sign of good faith and to celebrate the occasion, Nightmare had his boys come up with gift ideas that they would give to his brother. The dark king had hoped that, whatever the gifts may be, that the action alone would show that he intended to support this truce and to keep friendly relations with his other half.

But asking a band of miscreants and murderers was a bad decision in hindsight, and so after many, MANY days of brainstorming, he eventually caved to Horror’s insistence on a birthday cake.

Which brings us to the present…

“Error, you’re whisking batter, not pummeling it into submission.” Nightmare scolded lightly. He wiped his hands on the apron he was wearing, trying not to get too irritated at how sloppy of a job his partner was doing.

“This is stupid.” Error grumbled.

“Error— slower, slower.”

“Don’t— !” His body locked up at Nightmare’s complaining, and he drastically slowed down his pace to a glaringly slow tempo. He gave Nightmare a frustrated look, to which the king easily brushed off. “Don’t tell me what to do. I read the recipe too.”

“Uh huh.” Nightmare deadpanned, setting a metal tray on the counter. “You're also as blind as a bat without your glasses, my dear.”

“They would have just got in the way.” Error huffed. After a few more mixes, he decided that surely was enough of that, and he dropped the bowl into the counter with a loud CLANK. “There. Done mixing.”

Nightmare rubbed his temples. What was that method of reducing stress? Counting back from five? Whatever it was, it surely wasn’t working as well as he had hoped. “Please don’t slam the bowl down.”

“Mmhm.” Error leaned against the counter, dismissive.

For his own mental (and Error’s physical) wellbeing, Nightmare opted to ignore him for a little while. Once he sprayed down the baking pan, he glanced over Error’s work. There was still some dry clumps of the batter mix floating around, but he wasn’t going to correct any of it since he knows how much his partner loves to throw his tantrums. Besides, Dream has been a pain in his ass for decades— the least he can do is crunch on some raw flour to save him from future headaches.

Carefully, he lifted the bowl and poured the mixture into the baking tin. Using a tentacle, he grabbed a spatula he set out beforehand to scrape any excess, and quietly put the bowl down. He gave Error a mild look.

Error met his gaze and paused, looking to either side of himself. “… What?”

“That’s how you put a bowl down. Silently.” Nightmare said, his voice dripping honey and tar.

“Oh, fuck you.” Error griped, rolling his eyes so over dramatically that his head went with it. Nightmare couldn’t help but smile at how stupid he could be.

After making his point, he walked over to the oven with the pan. After opening it with a tentacle (fashioned with a cute little baking mitten), he placed the pan inside and shut it with his hip. Making note of the time, he finally allowed himself to slump against the counter.

Nightmare looked up at the ceiling. How the hell does Horror do this every single day? Willingly?? He couldn’t even imagine how difficult it would be to order his men around such a small space, never mind how destructive all of them already are. Just the thought started to give him a headache…

“So,” Error started. “Why didn’t you ask your uh…” He thought for a moment, his body glitching a little from the effort.

“Horror?” Nightmare offered.

“Yeah— the big, freaky guy— to do this for you? Doesn’t he do this stuff already?”

Nightmare sighed. “… Well… Monster food is magic—”

“Uh. Yeah— I know.”

“I know that you know—“

“Then why say it—?”

Nightmare turned and glared at him. “Just let me talk!” Error held up his hands defensively, glaring right back at him for a moment, before Nightmare eventually continued.

“Well, because monster food is made of magic, then cooking monster food involves magic too. It incorporates the chef’s intent, and can communicate unspoken feelings through each bite.” Nightmare idly messed with one of the spoons on the counter, staring at the oven glass as he spoke. “To put it simply, it has to be made by me. I may not be the best at baking, but he will understand and appreciate the gesture anyways. He is that kind of guy, unfortunately.” He scoffed.

“So why drag me into this?” Error groused. “I couldn’t care less about making ‘Mr.Sunshine’ feel any better than he already feels.”

“Oh.” Nightmare turned to flash a smug look at Error. “Because I didn’t want to suffer alone.”

Error stared at Nightmare. For a long, long moment. A quiet, high-pitched sound began to come from Error’s body— the telltale sign that he was starting to crash. “You’re joking.”

Nightmare shrugged. “Am I?”

Error grabbed the whisk from the counter, chucking it with all his strength at Nightmare. “YOU ASS!! I COULD HAVE LEFT AT ANY TIME?!?”

The king chuckled, letting the whisk hit his shoulder. “Of course you could have. You weren’t obligated to do any of this.”

Error threw his arms around, already hellbent on destroying the kitchen. He ripped the toaster from its electrical socket, threatening to throw it on the ground when Nightmare continued. “But you stayed because you love me.”

That got Error to freeze in place. He stared at Nightmare, bewildered for a few seconds, before slowly lowering the toaster onto the counter. “… Whatever.” He mumbled, stewing.

Nightmare smiled at Error’s obvious admission of defeat, finding himself slowly walking over to him. He stopped a good few feet away, settling on leaning against the counter once more. “You love me, and wanted to help me because you loved me.” He teased lightly.

Error bristled. “I will leave!”

“But then I’d be so sad if you did.” Nightmare touched his own chest, right over where his apple soul would be. “All alone… abandoned…”

Error huffed, crossing his arms. “Good! Feel bad!! Feel bad for tormenting me for HOURS while I slaved away in this kitchen for you!!”

“It was only an hour, dear.” Nightmare chuckled.

“NUH UH!! You’re wrong!!” Error scowled, swinging an arm out to the side and ripping a portal open to a random, unsuspecting world. He gestured wildly to the setting sun. “See!! HOURS!! It’s already growing dark!!”

Nightmare rolled his eye. “Mmhm.” He knew he wasn’t winning this fight.

Error smiled triumphantly, leaning a little closer to Nightmare. The portal fizzled next to them, disappearing soon after. “Apologize.”

Nightmare raised a metaphorical eyebrow at Error. “For what?”

“For being mean and awful and terrible!” Error demanded, counting on his fingers as he went.

Nightmare rolled his eye for the second time. “Mmmmmmno. I don’t think I will.”

Error leaned back, pouting now. “Asshole.”

Nightmare sighed. A brief moment of silence grew between them as they waited for the cake to bake before Nightmare sighed again, shoulder sagging. He looked at the clock hanging on the far wall of the kitchen, then back at the oven glass. The cake wasn’t rising at all.

“… Do you think he will like it?”

Error didn’t look at Nightmare, arms still crossed. After another beat of silence, Error’s shoulders sagged a little and he quietly responded. “What do you mean.”

Another beat of silence. Error didn’t like it. He turned back to glance at Nightmare, only to see the other have his hands folded against his chest in a sort-of self hug. His tentacles were curled inward on themselves, and Nightmare hadn’t looked up once from the oven glass.

It bugged Error. He tried again, softer. “What... do you mean by that?” Nightmare sighed again, a third time, and it was starting to get to Error. He shook his head. “No one hates chocolate cake. If I find out he does, I’m throwing him.”

“Not the cake.” Nightmare answered quietly, though he did smile a little at Error’s threat. The spectacle of the destroyer of worlds tossing his brother like a football was amusing, to say the least. He gestured vaguely, trying to find the right words. “My… message.”

“Message?” Error echoed, clearly confused.

“My intent.” Nightmare tried instead. “It’s… I want this to go well. I want this to be our first steps in making up with one another, and I tried to put as much as I could into this cake… I tried to not fill it with…” he sighed, the fourth time. “… with my lingering feelings of the past.”

Nightmare raised a hand. “I’m certain I didn’t, and I know this won’t make up for everything that has happened between us… but…” He slowly brought his hand back towards himself, back to where it was wrapped around his chest. “I don’t know… I lack the proper words at the moment.”

Not that Error needed all of the words to understand. He thought a little bit before he spoke. “That’s why you asked me to help you with this.” The dots started connecting more in his head as he turned to Nightmare. “You didn’t want to do this alone.”

Nightmare considered Error’s words. “… I suppose I didn’t.”

Error stared at Nightmare, trying to get maybe just a little bit more out of him, before turning to look back at the oven. “… I think he’ll like it.”

“You think so?” Nightmare’s voice sounded uncertain.

“Yeah.” Error shrugged. “He is that kind of guy, like you said.”

Nightmare smiled a little. “I guess you’re right.”

[baileypie-writes]

Okay i love your writing and its part of the reason i have been obsessed with velvet and veneer djsjdjdks

Sooooo how about, younger!brother!reader listening to velvet and veneer’s songs on repeat, and they find out and its just very fluffy :]

A/N ~ Omg thank you so much, you’re so sweet🥺🫶. Hope you enjoy!

~Our New Favorite Fan~

Velvet and Veneer + Younger Brother!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Familial

Synopsis: Velvet and Veneer find out that you’re a big fan of their music.

Warnings: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Watcha listening to, baby bro?” Veneer appeared in front on you. You jumped, and quickly paused the song, and hid your phone in your pocket.

“Nothing! You’d hate it!” You fibbed, removing your headphones.

“Aw, I doubt it. I’m pretty open to different types of music. Show me!”

You opened your phone, and quickly turned on a trending song. You flipped your phone around to show Veneer.

“Oh, I know that song! It’s pretty good!” He said, before turning around, and finally leaving you alone.

You sighed. Putting your headphones back on, you went back to the song you were actually listening to. The one you were too embarrassed to let your siblings know you liked.

~~~~

Your pencil glided along the paper as you did your homework. Though the scribbling sounds went unheard, as you listened to “Watch Me Work” yet again. You can’t count how many times you’ve hit replay on that song. It was just too catchy!

The fact that it was written and sung by your literal siblings makes you feel weird sometimes. That’s why you haven’t told them that you listen to their stuff. In your head, you imagine that they’d make fun of you or something.

You wrote down the answer to the last equation on the worksheet, and got off your bed to put it in your backpack. It didn’t occur to you that you were subconsciously singing along to the song. That is, until Velvet and Veneer came into your room.

“Hey, I know that song!” Veneer exclaimed. You jumped. That was the second time he scared you that day.

“I didn’t know that you liked our music (name).” Velvet said, clearly a bit proud.

You felt stupid that you didn’t close your door, and you let them hear you. “Ugh, yeah.” You admitted. “I kinda… listen to you all the time.”

“Wow. You like us that much huh?” Velvet teased, making you embarrassed.

You prepared yourself for more teasing. How weird is it to have your favorite artists be your own brother and sister? That’s gotta be teasing material, right? But Velvet and Veneer surprised you.

“Hey, why don’t you come to our next concert?” Velvet offered.

“Yeah! We’ll get you in the front row! I’m talking front front row! Like, so close that we can high five each other!” Veneer chimed in, giving the air a high five.

“Woah, seriously?” You asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah.” Velvet slung an arm around your shoulder, leaning on you cooly. “Anything for our new favorite fan.”

Wow. You wished you told them a lot earlier.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[oneatlatime]

The Guru

Happy 2024 everyone and welcome to the first time I managed to type 2024 without first typing 2023! Oh and also a write up of The Guru. That too.

Me too Iroh. Me too.

So Zuko is riding high on that post-crisis 'time to get my life together' buzz that, similar to 3 am life plans, should absolutely not be listened to. Wonder how long before he crashes and burns? There's literally 2 episodes left, so I'm guessing one and a half?

Poor Sokka. My boy's got anxiety.

I don't know if it's a monk thing, an airbender thing, an Avatar thing, or an Aang thing, but I envy his complete lack of nerves.

How is Appa ok with them splitting up for a week after JUST getting them back?

I paused in a funny place. Have bonk-eyed Appa.

I love them comparing heights. What do you want to bet that that guy on the right was one of the youngest allowed to go fight, and Sokka made a big deal about how they're almost the same age and surely that means he can go too, right?

A lot of these Southern Water Tribe people have dreads or braids. That's neat.

Bato's arm is still messed up. That's some good continuity.

I've found the source of Katara's cheek bones. I guess Sokka takes after his mum.

Ok I know this is a really emotional moment (and it is! Sokka's spent two seasons earning this!) but my brain fixated on the furs and briefly thought they were sky bison pelts.

"It's been a difficult week for me." This guy thinks the Kyoshi Warriors are there to provide him therapy. Someone please just crown the bear instead.

He just gave away literally every relevant plot point AND outlined how to make sure all these plot points don't succeed. Crown. The. Bear.

Maybe if these generals spent less time playing with their giant model Earth Kingdom and more time general-ing, the war wouldn't suck so much?

Pretty.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE the designs, the colour palette, the music, the sound design of this air temple. I love everything about it. If I had the chance to live anywhere in the Avatar universe, it would be here. Even in its ruined state it's such a refreshing contrast to the claustrophobia of Ba Sing Se. I can feel the freshness of the breeze through the screen.

"A spiritual brother of your people" an adult perspective on a near extinct culture! What a resource!

"and a personal friend of Monk Gyatso" an old as balls perspective. He's got to be at least 130.

Anthropology cul de sac time: this guy is so valuable as a resource on the Air Nomads. There's probably parts of Air Nomad culture that Aang can't ever accurately talk about, because he was a kid when he left, and there was almost certainly stuff that the adults kept to themselves, or only shared with the older Air Nomads. This Guru doesn't seem to be an Air Nomad himself, but there's a good chance that there is knowledge that he has, that Aang doesn't. Aang should be nerding out more about this. I'll do the nerding out for him.

Aang just breezes right by that Gyatso name drop like it's nothing. Huh.

Oh hey Toph. I'd forgotten she was in a box. Tweedle dum and Tweedle dumber really are quite the pair. What's their plan for keeping her fed and watered? Actually, these guys apparently don't know that maps exist, so it's probably never occurred to them that humans need sustenance. They'll rock up to the Bei Fong estate with corpse Toph and wonder why they aren't getting the reward money.

Mai gets called out in-universe for shopping at Hot Topic.

Ty Lee's buttering up of Azula is getting less and less subtle as the season progresses. It's a testament to Azula's lack of awareness that she's hasn't noticed that, and that Ty Lee can get away with it.

Azula's right that it's an extraordinary opportunity. The King gave them quite literally every piece of info required to overthrow his kingdom in a 25 second conversation. I can't blame her for taking advantage of such an easy win.

That's a very effective unimpressed face. And a very impressive beard.

It's funny to see a spiritual concept from the real world pop up in a show that includes things like bending and giant fish possession. The mention of Chakras kind of sticks out. They couldn't invent a Avatar universe version?

"Once you begin this process, you cannot stop until all seven are open." Well that doesn't feel like foreshadowing at all.

This episode should be called "Aang's self-care Journey." It's about time the kid had a me day that wasn't avoidance-based.

Fear: Losing Katara - makes sense. Losing control of his powers via fish possession - makes sense. The Fire Lord - makes sense. But the Blue Spirit? He helped. Doesn't make sense.

Guilt: Running away - makes sense, although I thought he'd worked through that with Katara in the storm. Nuking that idiot General's base - makes sense, but boy did he quite literally ask for it.

This guru is saying some wonderfully accurate, and realistic, things. I love that he's not taking the Katara route of denying anything is wrong. He's going for the acknowledge, then heal route. And yes, it's unfair of me to compare the emotional maturity of Katara to a century+ old spiritual expert.

I'm going to ruin the immersion here and point out that Sokka's dad's voice actor voiced a bunch of characters in season 1. He's doing an excellent job, but couldn't they get a unique voice for a character that's so important (albeit offscreen) to Sokka?

That's an incredibly roundabout way of avoiding pointing out that the Southern Water Tribe are active participants in a bloody war. Sure, we can show multiple characters with visible scarring from horrific burns, but heaven forbid we imply that the Southern Water Tribe sinks ships. The parameters for what is and isn't appropriate on this show sometimes make no sense.

"Aren't you listening? I said the rest of you men get ready for battle." He hasn't seen his boy in two years, but fifteen minutes in his company and he knows exactly what needs to be said and how. That's some top tier parenting. Dad of the year. Dad of the century. Only decent Dad in this show that isn't technically an uncle.

"Follow your passion Zuko, and life will reward you." Great advice for your eight year old audience. Also a great way to end up unemployed.

Positive Sokka creeped me out a few episodes ago. Now positive Zuko is freaking me out too.

Pretty.

Back to Chakras! Shame: Burning Katara - makes sense. But that's it? To have the inner peace of mind of a twelve year old who's somehow only ever done one thing that he's ashamed of.

Is there anyone in the earth kingdom who isn't stupid? Once again wondering at the network's standards. Visible burn injuries are fine, but Mai can't say 'Shut up." It's got to be Shush up. Although I do seem to recall of brief time in the early 2000s when Shut Up was treated as a curse on par with Shit or Fuck. Maybe that was just at my school.

Chakras again! Even for a show that often has an A, B, and C plot, this narrative is ping ponging around a bit much.

Grief: nothing major, just a whole nation. Makes a horrific amount of sense. but I don't buy that he can get over grieving the whole world as he knew it by thinking about his crush. That's way too high a pedestal for Katara to be placed on.

Lies: Not accepting he's the Avatar. Interesting that not accepting that he's the Avatar and not accepting that he's a firebender are two different problems.

I see you reusing the opening credits footage. Your blue filters can't fool me.

PRETTY

Illusion: So we're relearning what we learned in The Swamp. Aang's probably the person currently alive least likely to believe in the rigid separation of the nations anyway. This doesn't feel like an illusion he's subject to?

The way this episode dances between its narrative threads is so great. It's all woven in so beautifully. And this makes perfect sense! Toph's spent her life secretly doing things excellently that everyone says are completely beyond her capabilities. Life has taught her that the statement "you are not able to" doesn't apply. Of course immutable laws of bending physics are treated with the same respect as an adult telling the champion of the Earth Rumble that she's can't earthbend beyond breathing exercises. If you told her that humans can't fly, she'd figure out how within the week.

Plot collision incoming.

Interesting that Katara initially recognises Zuko by his voice rather than his scar.

I'm pretty sure that Zuko and Iroh don't know about the whole brainwashing thing, but wouldn't it be hilarious if Zuko introduced himself to Katara as Joo Dee, and his uncle Joo Dee, welcome to the Jasmine Dragon, can I take your order? That would throw Katara into one hell of a moral quandary.

Katara being framed as the solution for Chakra number four comes back to bite Aang, as she's the problem in Chakra number seven. I knew that pedestal was too high.

I've changed my mind. This episode should actually be called "Half a dozen reasons why everyone should just learn to keep their goddamn mouths shut already."

So is anyone going to let Zuko and Iroh know that they're now in immediate danger and need to leave, like, yesterday?

I think the Guru is going for the whole 'if you love them, let them go, and they'll come back to you' thing. Don't cling, in other words. But for the sake of the plot he's suddenly lost his ability to explain Chakras in a way that makes them seem like the logical thing to do. The only clunky bit of this episode so far.

May I introduce you to our Lord and Saviour Toph?

"I am the greatest earthbender in the world." Yes. Yep. Yeah. That's now a quantifiable fact, and it's correct. Look on ye mighty and despair. She's even got Bumi beat.

Earth Tongue Running is a bit wonky looking but it covers a crazy amount of distance.

What's the range on Toph's earth sense? Can she sense what direction Ba Sing Se is?

I hope those two idiots' horse bird is ok.

"You don't know how much this means to me dad." He does. Very much so.

Every word out of this guy's mouth is precision engineered to make Sokka feel like a million bucks and I for one think it's about time someone built him up. Also, seeing this makes me realise how few good parents there are in this show. It's a trope of kids' adventure shows that the parents fundamentally can't be there, but I also think it's a commentary on yet another thing that this war has messed up.

Hey look! Being a man is knowing where you're needed the most, and right now that's in Ba Sing Se, protecting your sister! I love narratives that tie their themes up with a pretty bow on top.

This is Azula laying a trap, right? Which means that Katara squealed to someone about the exact location of Iroh and Zuko's tea shop. Don't like the implications of that.

Photos taken seconds before disaster.

Final Thoughts

This episode was a lot! I mean that in a good way! But I felt a bit like the Maxell Blown Away Guy, the way I kept getting assaulted by yet another plot thread. Don't get me wrong, this isn't a criticism. I think the switching between plot threads and the amount of info in this episode worked 99% of the time. But I'm kind of in awe at the balancing act the writers pulled off and I'm sort of sitting here blinking a bit trying to fit all this stuff in my head. I'm probably going to forget half the stuff I wanted to talk about in this write up, so here goes nothing.

Given the Azula reveal in at the end of last episode, I thought that this would be the episode where the shit hits the fan. I was wrong. I'm glad I was wrong. An episode of set up is required and is nice breathing room, even an episode as busy as this. And I got to leave Ba Sing Se! But this does mean that next episode is going to be calamity after calamity.

Aang and his Chakras: I'm fascinated by this guru. I hope he comes back. That brings the total number of people who were alive before the war started up to three: Aang, Bumi, Guru Patik.

I'm impressed that the run through of the Chakras rarely felt like an info dump. The onion and banana juice thing didn't work for me, but I'm sure it worked for people in the target age bracket. Kids love burp jokes.

So many shows sprinkle in tragic backstories for flavour and then never have them influence the character in the present. It was a nice contrast to see a show take a whole episode to tell Aang "yeah all that sucked. It's ok to feel down about it. Here's how you move forward."

Sokka and his dad: Love it. Love it so much. I love seeing Sokka built up, and he definitely deserves it, but I wonder if this is the reward for a character arc well done, or the set up for a character arc that's about to start? Is his dad's praise his prize for crossing the finish line, or is it so he's built up with farther to fall?

I loved seeing more of the Southern Water Tribe. I loved the fashion. There's a lot of variety in accessories and variations on a few basic elements like those knee guard things. I loved their hairstyles. I loved how cozy and communal that command tent felt. I loved their ships. I wonder how often these guys work out, that they can make loading ramps that are presumably deployed and stashed out of the way frequently, out of whole logs rather than planks. I have a bone to pick with the child-friendly sea mine. But it provides a good set up for a dad joke, so I'll let it slide.

Zuko and Iroh: Of course the one time Zuko is allowed to be in a good place, it's so that he and Iroh both have farther to fall when the inevitable happens. Poor guy just can't catch a break. I'd be mad at Azula for the party crashing that I'm assuming she'll do next episode, but it's been established that Zuko has all nice things taken away from him as soon as he gets them, and I can't blame Azula for being a tool of the universe.

Azula & Long Feng: Azula's acting in Long Feng's prison cell was miles ahead of what Long Feng was doing in front of the Earth King, so I'm wondering if Long Feng has bitten off more than he can chew. Also: conspiring with the enemy to bring down your own city just so you can reinstall yourself as the power behind the throne that will presumably cease to exist as soon as the Fire Nation takes control? That is both treasonous beyond description and an incredible case of shooting yourself in the foot. What's Long Feng's plan here?

Toph and the Dunderheads: it says something about the consistency of Toph's characterisation from her introduction onwards that she breaks the universe this episode and my reaction was "that's neat." It's obviously a huge moment, but of course Toph can do that. Toph can do anything. More importantly, Toph knows that Toph can do anything, so Toph routinely does do anything, especially things she shouldn't be able to do. If you had asked me a few episodes back which character would be most likely to fundamentally redefine bending, I would have said Toph, since she's already fundamentally redefined bending with her earth sense sonar vision.

Also Toph just breaks stuff. Things that come into contact with her cease to function as intended and instead function as Toph requires. Look at the two idiots: both successful business owners, one also a successful hoodwinker of the richest family around. But they come into contact with Toph and their brains take an extended vacation.

Katara & the Generals: this plot was more like an extension of Azula's plot than its own standalone thing. You can't blame her for spilling the news about Zuko and Iroh to someone she honestly thought was Suki. Not much else to say about it, although it's cute that she asks for a table for two at the tea shop. Momo gets a chair!

I like that there's a theme this episode of things going wrong despite the best intentions. No one's acting maliciously here apart from the Antagonists. The Earth King is having an honest chat with people he thought were friends. Sokka vouched for people he honestly thought were the Kyoshi Warriors. Katara shares information about a presumed threat with people she honestly thought were her allies. You can quibble with the wisdom of some of these decisions, but there were all done with good intentions. The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry and all that. It brings to mind that Star Trek quote about how you can do everything right and still lose. And this set up is going to hit harder when whatever goes wrong next episode happens. And something will go wrong. A few months ago I figured that the Season 2 finale would be a triumph, but all signs are pointing towards a tragedy instead.

This episode was visually stunning, the soundtrack in the Air Temple sections especially was very evocative, and I applaud the minds that could juggle that many plot threads at once without dropping any. This one is definitely going on my rewatch list.

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 7: Virginity with Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3552 (Got a little carried away again) Warnings: Loss of virginity and some anxiety about it, vaginal fingering, P in V sex, Protected sex, Dirty talk, frequent check-ins, aftercare. Kinktober Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

Ever been so nervous about something that it’s the only thought that matters? Yeah, that’s how you’re feeling right now as you sit next to Bucky with some action movie that you aren’t paying a lick of attention to playing.

Why were you so nervous, you may ask? Because you want to give Bucky your virginity tonight.

The pair of you had been dating for almost a year, and it’s as they say, by month 3 you know if you want to be with a person. Well, you know, and the rest of that time has been spent hyping yourself up to take the leap.

And tonight was the night. That is, if you can unlock your limbs enough to reach out for him, or even just turn your head to look at him or open your mouth to speak. Or anything other than just sit there like nothing was going on in your head.

It’s not like you were a prude or anything, or even scared, okay well, maybe you were a little scared, but not because you didn’t want to do it! You craved Bucky in a way you’d never craved anyone else. He made you feel things that make your head spin and your body tingle without ever touching you.

But it didn’t help that so many people tell you how much the first-time hurts, or how you won’t cum because of it, or how most guys like girls who are experienced, even if they turn around and shit talk anyone with a body count.

Bucky never gave you any indication that any of that was anything to be worried about, he was fully aware of your lack of experience, and was not only okay with it, but seemed to take pleasure in the idea of being your first if you so chose, but there was never any pressure. Perks of dating a super soldier from the 50s, he’s a perfect gentleman.

No, the call was coming from inside the house on this one, you were freaking yourself out by thinking too much, as one does, and because of it you were thoroughly locked in place, cuddled into Bucky’s side on his couch with the man himself none the wiser to your spiraling thoughts. Or so you thought.

“You okay, Doll?” His voice was like a hammer through glass, sudden and glaringly loud.

“Huh? Yeah, why?” You managed not to stumble over the words, but it felt like you were trying too hard to sound normal.

“You sure? You’re all flushed, you feeling okay?” He asked, his flesh hand coming up to feel your forehead for a fever, and his concern made your heart flutter and crave him all the more.

You leaned into his touch as his hand trailed down your face to cup your cheek after finding no fever. “Yeah, Buck, I’m fine. Just getting lost in thought is all.” You explained vaguely, and you knew it was going to be too vague for his liking.

He reached for the T.V. remote and paused the movie so he could give you his full attention. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked, concern turning to curiosity.

You drew your lower lips between your teeth as you thought, this was your chance to tell him you wanted to have sex, but the words felt lodged in your throat, choking you. “It’s um…” Your flush darkened and you could swear you saw something in his eyes change, like something occurred to him.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me, Doll. It’s okay.” He assured softly, like coaxing a scared animal, but that something in his eyes told you he was pretty sure he knew where this was going, he always could read you like a book.

His warm thumb gently pulled your lips free of your teeth, brushing over it slowly to soothe the soft skin from your nerves. “I…” You started softly, trying desperately to hold eye contact, but those blue eyes made your brain short circuit, so you had to look away as the words finally rushed from your lips, stuttering and a little shaky. “I want to have sex with you.”

He’d allowed you to look away to say the words, but now that they were out, he turned you to face him once more. “You sure, Baby? We don’t gotta if you aren’t comfortable.” He asked, dark brows drawn together, but eyes soft.

“I’m sure. I’ve been sure. I just…You know I’ve never- you know.” He cracked a small smirk at the way you stumbled to dance around your words. “It’s a little daunting…” You admitted softly, earning a small understanding nod from him.

“It doesn’t have to be.” He said softly. “If you’re sure, we can take it nice and slow, and if you want to stop at any time, we can. I won’t be upset or bothered. I want you to feel good, and I want you to feel safe.” His eyes held so much sincerity that it made you a little emotional.

“I do feel safe with you, that’s why I’m sure I want this.” You promised, leaning into him subtly, eyes struggling to remain on his, too distracted by the sudden desire for his lips.

“Well, then Doll, I have one request then.” He said, his smirk returning, slow and seductive.

“Hm?” You managed, so drawn in by him.

He leaned down so his lips were right next to your ear. “I need to hear you say it again, ask me real nice.” Then he pulled back, looking at you expectantly.

Your breath caught in your throat as his ghosted over your skin with each word, then you had to struggle to form the words, not because of nerves. No, now it was because your brain was buzzing. Swallowing thickly, you opened your mouth. “Will you fuck me? Please, Buck…?” The words felt heavy and sweet on your tongue like molasses and the smile he gave you was just as sweet, but it was also hungry.

“Yeah, Doll, I can do that.” He said before standing from the couch and scooping you up, throwing you over his shoulder and pulling a shocked laugh from you.

“Bucky!” You giggled. “What are you doing?”

“My girl deserves better than a couch for her first time.” He answered, it was clear from his voice that he was grinning. “So, I’m taking you to bed.” He kicked open his bedroom door then laid you on the bed before pointing at you. “Stay.” He ordered before turning to leave the room.

“Yes, sir!” You said with a joking salute, the tension now broken enough for jokes.

He hesitated at the door and sent you a look, brow lifted as if to ask “Really?” Before he was gone. The sound of glassware and running water echoed down the hall for a moment before he returned with a glass of water in hand.

You watched as he passed you to put it on the nightstand, on the side of the bed you usually sleep on when you stay over, then turned to face you once more. “For after.” He explained when he saw your confused expression.

“Now…” He trailed off as he slowly sauntered back to stand in front of you. “I believe you asked something of me, and I intend to see it done…” He said as he bent over you, drawing your lips to his.

His stubble scratched at your skin with each twist of your lips, his hands held your cheeks for but a moment before they trailed down over your neck, then your shoulders, over your torse, bypassing your breasts, till they reached the bottom of your shirt, where they stopped, and he broke the kiss. “May I?” He breathed.

Your nod was all he needed before he was tugging your shirt up and off, leaving you in your bra and jeans, you felt goose bumps bloom over your skin as the cool air met your heated flesh, but you didn’t get to dwell on it long before he was lifting you up off the bed to sit where you’d been, settling you on his lap.

Your hands gripped at his shirt like a lifeline, as you always found yourself doing when you ended up in this position with him, he was so solid under your fingers, and you couldn’t help but cling to him like a buoy in a storm.

His hands left a trail of tingles on your skin as they moved up and down your sides before coming to rest on your hips to pull you tighter against him, stealing your breath as you felt his hardness pressing into you, pressing the stiff fabric of your jeans hard against your clit, sending a jolt down your spine and making heat pool between your thighs.

“Fuck…” He rasped, already sounding wrung out just from kissing, but he dared not stop, nor did you dare to stop him, this was exactly what you wanted, and it felt so good.

Before you realized he’d moved, his flesh hand appeared between you, deft fingers worked your zipper and button open before stopping, but rather than verbally ask, he lifted his brows in question, and when you nodded again, those hands worked your jeans down your legs till they reached halfway down your thighs, giving him enough room to cup your sex.

The heel of his hand pressed against your clit as his fingers trailed up and down over your slit, your back arched into his touch, a quiet gasp falling from your lips before you bit your lips to silence yourself, but he quickly used his other hand to pull your lip free once more.

“Lemme hear you…Wanna know how good I make you feel…Want everyone to know it’s me doin’ it.” He said before his lips met your neck in a trail of kisses and nips that you were sure would leave marks, but you loved it, you wanted him to mark you up.

His ministrations had the sounds he so craved tumbling from your lips like an avalanche, half finished gasps of his name, whimpers and cries, it felt so good, and he hadn’t even taken your panties off yet.

But that didn’t remain so for long as he moved them aside and let out a breath like he’d been punched as he felt how wet you were for him. “Fuck me…”

You let out a whimper as the very tip of his finger pressed ever so slightly, testing the waters, and when your hips wiggled, he took that as the go ahead and slowly pushed further in, letting you get used to it bit by bit, going to the first knuckle, then the second, then when it was all the way in, he curled it.

Letting out another sound your head fell forward to his shoulder, unable to stay upright any longer.

“Buck…Please…” You begged, unsure how to ask for more, unsure exactly what you were asking for.

But thankfully he seemed to know, as he withdrew just a little to press a second finger into you, stretching you more than your own two fingers ever had, it burned ever so slightly, but with how wet you were, it didn’t hurt, not in the way others talked about.

“I want you to cum on my fingers before I give you my cock…Think you can do that, Doll?” He husked into your ear.

“Mmhmm.” Your answer came out airy and high pitched, you could feel the tell-tale tension in your belly, if he kept up like this, you would have no issues doing as he asked.

After letting you get used to how full you felt with just his fingers, he curled them once more, finding that spot you’d heard of, but never felt, like it had a homing beacon tuned specifically to him, and maybe he did, he always did seem to know just what you needed.

Soon your thighs began to shake, the wet sound of his fingers working you filling the air and the smell of sex making your brain feel muddy. You felt drunk on him and how he was making you feel, and you never wanted it to stop.

But oh, how you wanted to reach the peak that was building so quickly.

“So tight, Baby…Squeezin’ me like a vice…C’mon, you’re so close, I can feel it. Cum for me.” He ordered, and like your body was waiting for his word, you came crashing down, clenching his digits and writhing on his lap with a choked gasp of half his name. “Atta girl, so good for me…” He breathed into your hair, and you could hear his smile.

He continued to work you through the aftershocks, and even as you came down you wanted more.

When he pulled his fingers from you, you knew he was going to ask if you wanted to keep going, but before he got the chance you claimed his lips with your own. “Please…” You gasped against his lips. “I wanna keep going, Bucky, please?” You managed between kisses.

“Shit…Who am I to say no when you ask like that?” He chuckled, though it was cut off by your lips. “Let’s lay you down and get these clothes out of the way.”

Lifting you once more he laid you out on the bed before standing straight, pulling his shirt off as he went and tossing it into the ether before tugging your jeans and panties the rest of the way off, tossing them away the same way while you reached back to unclasp your bra, taking a page from his book with it.

Once your clothes were handled all that was left were his own jeans, and he wasted no time in shucking them off, joined quickly by his boxers. You’d never seen Bucky naked before, and he’d never seen you fully nude either. You both were used to seeing each other shirtless, but this was different.

He was beautiful. Muscled defined, but still padded by a bit of softness, a dusting of hair over his chest that looked soft and trail of hair leading from his bellybutton to the thick thatch at his base.

That led your eyes to lock on his cock, thick and long, but no where near as terrifying as some of the dicks you’d seen in porn. A little voice in your head bade you to put it in your mouth, but from the way he was breathing as he looked down at you, like he was starving, you had a feeling he wasn’t in the mood for that right then.

“God, you’re beautiful…” He said as he joined you on the bed, your legs naturally parting to make room for him as he settled over you. “You’re still sure?” He asked carefully, the look in his eyes making it clear that no matter how much he desired you at that moment, if you said no, he’d listen.

“Never been more sure.” You said, holding his face and pulling him into another kiss, one that he quickly took over, turning it all tongues and teeth before pulling away and taking himself in hand.

He gave himself a few pumps before lining up with you, then he stopped and pulled away, leaning over to the nightstand and yanking the drawer open. After a moment of digging, he pulled a small foil square from it.

“Buck, I’m on the pill.” You said with a lifted brow, he knew this fact already, hence why you hadn’t said anything before.

“I know, but this is easier to clean up.” He answered as he rolled it on, and his care warmed you even more than you already were, though for a slightly different reason. “Now, where was I?” He said as he returned to his previous position.

You felt his tip rest at your opening, and he held there for a second. “Deep breath, Baby…” He guided and when you obeyed, he pushed in slowly.

The burn of his fingers had nothing on this, it ached, but still not in the same way other women had told you it would, it was aided by the surplus of slick flowing from you, but even so you were thankful for how slow he was going.

His breaths were ragged as he went, you could see the bliss on his face, cut through only by the focus of care to not go faster. After a moment he stopped and looked at you. “Is it all the way in?” You gasped, feeling like you could feel him in your stomach.

He breathed a chuckle and shook his head slightly. “No, it’s about half-way, but thanks for the compliment, Doll…”

“Half-way?!” You questioned, and it made him laugh for real this time, which made you laugh too, then he tensed.

“Oh fuck…! Don’t laugh…Shit, you tightened up even more…Christ…” He moaned and it took everything in you not to start laughing again, because it never occurred to you that those muscles would flex when you laugh. “Can I keep going?” He asked, almost pleaded.

“Yeah, please.” And he did.

Now that your muscles had relaxed, the rest went in more comfortably, it still burned a little, but it didn’t feel like quite so much, and he held still again once he’d bottomed out, seemingly as much for himself as for you, as his eyes clenched shut and he was breathing slowly.

After a moment you pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Move, Buck, please.” You whispered and he did.

Oh boy, did he move.

Pulling out slowly, you could feel him rub against that spot inside again, and it felt like a wholly new thing, especially with the way his monds pressed against your clit.

As he picked up speed, finding a steady rhythm, you couldn’t keep from gripping at him wherever your hands found purchase, he felt like your last tether to this plane of existence as the rest of your body tried to ascend.

As you began to feel that knot in your belly build again, he shifted, pulling your legs up over his shoulders and practically folding you in half, this time when he pushed in, he felt somehow deeper than before, pushed harder against that spot, and he slipped a hand between your thighs to rub small circles on your clit, sending your body spasming.

The tension built faster than before, built stronger, this peak felt like a lot higher a fall, and he didn’t stop for a second. Your eyes fluttered open to look up at him, unsure of when they had closed, and he looked as blissed out as you felt.

He was watching you, and when he saw you looking at him, he smiled, somehow both shit-eating and caring at the same time, like he knew what he was doing to you, and he loved it.

“Buck…Fuck…! Please…!” You pleaded with a heavy tongue.

“That’s it, Doll…Just let it take you…” He managed, sweat dripping its way down his temple, though his rhythm never faltered. “You feel so good, grippin’ me so tight…” Then he pressed his lips to your skin right below your knee, the only place his lips could reach, but it was sweet all the same, and soon you felt the peak cresting.

Like a dam breaking you seized around him, back arching, legs shaking, nails digging into his flesh, crying out his name like the last prayer of a desperate woman.

He didn’t stop, chasing his own pleasure at the same time as helping you ride out yours, and soon you heard him gasp what sounded like your name as you felt heat low in your belly, and you realized you were pretty thankful he opted to put on a condom, you didn’t think you could move to clean yourself up.

The pair of you didn’t move for a couple long moments, too busy basking in each other and your closeness in the afterglow, but soon you felt him beginning to soften, and he had to pull out.

It felt strange, being so empty after feeling so full, you still ached, but it was a good ache, like the little bit of muscle soreness after a particularly enjoyable walk.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he sat up. “Stay here.” He ordered softly before standing and disappearing into his ensuite, there was the sound of the faucet running, then the toilet flushing, then he returned with a wet rag in hand. “This might be a little uncomfortable, but it’s better than all that drying on.” He said before gently wiping your slick from your skin, it had spread all over the insides of your thighs.

And he was right, it was a little uncomfortable because you felt so sensitive, but he was done quickly, and then he was laying down and pulling you to his chest, all warmth and musky smells.

“How was it? Everything you hoped?” He asked sweetly as he brushed your hair from your face.

“It was perfect, Buck…Thank you.” You whispered before pulling him into a kiss.

“No, Doll. Thank you for trusting me with this. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bucky.”

[prying-pandora666]

You know that line “You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun?” that Zutara shippers like a lot? And I completely agree with them. It’s really poetic and exciting!

So I was thinking if the Sokkla equivalent and it occurred to me.

Azula: I rise with the sun. *pause* I also rise with the moon, when you think about it.

Sokka: Huh?

Azula: You don’t really rise with anything.

Sokka: *deadpan* Ooookay…

Azula: But that��s okay! I can do it all. You just be you! It’s perfect.

Sokka: Uh huh.

Azula: You’re the boomerang guy! And you’re so smart! And so funny… not as smart or funny as me, of course.

Sokka: Of course.

Azula: *emphatically* But a close second place! And that’s why we work together…

Sokka: Azula!

*beat*

Azula: *flinching* … yes?

Sokka: You have such a way with words. You know that?

[m1ckeyb3rry]

I LEAVE YOU

Synopsis: “Mispronounced words. He had mispronounced one of the simplest words in the English language, and it had led to all of this.” (Also know as Inumaki Toge Tries To Tell You He Loves You, But It All Goes Terribly Wrong)

JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Inumaki x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.3k

Content Warnings: crack fic, secondhand embarrassment, miscommunication, mentions of sex toys/fetishes (non-explicit), megumi deserves damage pay, probably not lore-compliant, not at all to be taken seriously, characters are probably ooc tbh

A/N: i posted this literally two years ago on ao3 and it just occurred to me to put it on here LMAOAO anyways i obv wrote this a long time ago and it’s the most unserious ridiculous thing ever so please don’t judge me based on this fluffy goofy silly cracky nonsense i promise I’m better now!!

divider credits: @/benkeibear

The first emotion that spiked through you when you heard that the second years were back from their mission was relief. None of them were dead; anything else, you could deal with.

You had rushed to the infirmary, ignoring Nobara’s snickers. She alone knew who you was sprinting to see — your feelings for a certainupperclassman were highly secret, of course, but somehow she had found out, and of course she had, because she was Kugisaki Nobara, and nothing could really be kept secret from her for very long.

She had been urging you to do something, to make a move, citing that it “wasn’t like he had a lot of girls interested in him, anyways,” but you had always been too shy. You weren’t sure that you could handle a rejection, and it was hard to tell whether he was interested in you or just polite.

But your fear did not stop you from skidding to a stop in front of Shoko, giving her a wide-eyed stare, patiently waiting for her to tell you what was wrong with your friends.

“Did you need something?” she said. Obviously, her cursed technique had nothing to do with reading minds, but you still scowled at her for not knowing what you were thinking.

“The second years. Are…are they alright?” you said. She frowned, and this was your first clue that there was something less than alright going on with the trio.

“Well, they’re not permanently hurt, no,” she said. You sighed in relief — this was more than you could’ve hoped for. The curse that they had been sent to fight was obviously a strong one, and more than that, it was wily, with a rumored arsenal of techniques far beyond what you could even comprehend.

“That’s good,” you said.

“It is. They’ll all make a full recovery; Maki and Panda were barely impacted, anyways,” she said. Your blood ran cold at the name she didn’t mention.

“And Inumaki?” you said. If something had happened to him…you weren’t sure what you’d do. Probably cry. A lot.

“He’s fine, just a bit shocked. See, the curse managed to take his cursed energy from him, so until that’s been replenished, he’s just a normal person,” she said.

“Huh?” you said. “What does that mean?”

“Why don’t you just ask him yourself?” she said, ushering you into the infirmary, “I know that’s why you’re really here.”

Maki and Panda were nowhere to be found, and Shoko groaned, muttering about irresponsible children and telling you she’d be back with her patients in tow once more. This left you alone in the room with Inumaki Toge — at once your biggest dream and greatest fear.

You did not speak for the first few moments, far too nervous to open your mouth. He was buried in a mountain of pillows and blankets, soft blond hair falling in his violet eyes as he flipped through the pages of a book. His zipped up collar was nowhere to be seen; he only wore a plain white t-shirt, leaving his snake-fang seals visible. You had always thought they were pretty, so then your nerves were overtaken by infatuation with the elegant markings. The end result was the same: when Inumaki looked up, it was to you awkwardly standing in the room and watching him read.

“Hello,” he said. This made you pause and think.

“Hi?” you said.

“How are you doing?” he said. Now you really were confused.

“Not that I’m complaining, but can’t you…not speak?” you said. He set his book on his nightstand and sat up with a heavy sigh.

“Normally, I can’t. But as of right now, I can. That’s the effect of that curse we fought. I have the most cursed energy out of the three of us second years, so it drained mine, which means I’m unable to use my technique until my energy’s built up again. Shoko estimates it’ll be about a week,” he said.

“Oh!” you said. So Inumaki had one week of talking normally before he would be back to his usual limited speech. You wondered what he would think to say.

You had met Inumaki on your first day at Jujutsu Tech. He had helped you find your dorm room and then, via text, warned you about Gojo’s antics. Your crush had been born the very same day. He was so beautiful and kind that it was almost a no-brainer, really; though he could only speak in rice ball components, you didn’t even care. You found solace in swooning at him from afar, and every conversation you had ever had with him since then was filed away in a special corner of your mind, played on repeat whenever you were bored.

Nobara thought you were crazy when she found out, asking you if you had an ingredients fetish and then teasing you for a solid day by moaning tuna in your ear whenever she saw you. She only stopped because you started crying and begged Fushiguro’s Divine Dogs to chase her away if she got too close. The dogs were friendly enough and obliged, though you had had to buy Fushiguro several bags of candy for his troubles.

You could hear her voice in your ear right now as you stared at Inumaki, though it was thankfully not her moaning ingredients but rather her insisting that you say something. It was so easy; now, at least, he could reject you properly, with words instead of helpless frustration and a long-winded text about how you were nice, really, but he just thought of you as an annoying friend who didn’t leave him alone, and anyways, why would he ever like you?

“Can I tell you something?” he said before you could ask to do the same. Privately, you were relieved at this, for it meant you could procrastinate your confession a little further.

“What’s up?” you said, a small, childish hope arising in you that maybe, just maybe, this was it. Maybe he’d confess first, and then things would be very simple indeed. You allowed yourself to feel excitement building at this prospect.

“I…oh, man, how do I do this?” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, a flush rising over his pale cheeks. “Ah, shit, I’ve spent my whole life wishing I could speak and having so many things to say but not the words to say them, and now that I finally can talk, I just don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s alright. You can take your time, I don’t mind,” you said politely. And you didn’t mind — whatever he had to say, you would wait around for years if you needed to in order to hear it. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll just come out with it, then!” he said, nodding determinedly before locking eyes with you, “I leave you.”

It suddenly felt like you were underwater, ears ringing. Your throat choked, and pathetic, childish tears blurred your vision. He was leaving. Inumaki, for whatever reason, was leaving. And not only was he leaving, he was leaving you in specific.

“R-really?” you said, forcing a smile, though you knew it was awfully unconvincing. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What?” He seemed embarrassed, now, averting his eyes, “No, why would you think that?”

“Well, you just said…” you trailed off helplessly.

“Oh. I thought you would be happy,” he said, his voice quiet, small, ashamed. He looked almost brokenhearted, though why he would be feeling hurt about this development, you could not be sure. He was the one making the choice to leave; you were the one fated to stay behind.

“Why would I be happy about that?” you said. He was dejected when he spoke next.

“Never mind. I don’t…I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said.

“I’ll still support you,” you said, steeling yourself to flash him a watery smile, “I hope we can still be friends.”

“Yes! Yes, please, please, I know I messed up by telling you this, but I don’t want us to stop being friends,” he said.

“I’m glad you told me, though. I’d rather not be left in the dark. Have you told anyone else yet?” you said.

“No, though I’m sure Panda suspects it,” he said before shifting uncomfortably to pull his blankets up and hide his face, “Can you, um, go? I want some time alone.”

“Right,” you said, “I’m glad you’re not hurt permanently.”

As you left, you thought you heard sniffles coming from the lump under the blanket, but if he really was crying, he gave you no other indication of it. You thought of lingering, of comforting him and asking him to comfort you, demanding he tell you the reason for his departure, but it was not your place. So, biting the inside of your cheek to hold your tears back, you marched towards Nobara’s dorm.

“He told you he’s leaving you?” she said, ten minutes later once you had explained to her the entire story. “How odd. And he hasn’t told anyone he’s transferring yet? Not even Gojo or Principal Yaga?”

“No,” you said, finding solace in her warm embrace, the scent of roses that wafted off of her skin, “I just don’t understand why he’s going.”

“It’s so strange. I mean, I really thought he liked you! Although, maybe he does. Think about it, you’re the first person he’s told, so clearly he trusts you a lot!” she said.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you said, “Regardless as to his reasons, it remains that he’s leaving me. At least he said we can still be friends, though.”

“Wait!” she said, and there was a conniving smirk on her face that spelled trouble, “I have an idea. Let’s throw a surprise going-away-party for him! Even if you don’t confess, at least it’ll show you care about him. And maybe we’ll be able to figure out why he’s leaving and where he’s going, too.”

“We have to do it before the end of the week, then, that’s when Shoko estimates his cursed energy will be back to normal and he won’t be able to talk anymore,” you said.

“I doubt you’d be complaining about that, Miss Ingredients Fetish,” Nobara said.

“I don’t have a fetish for ingredients!” you said, wriggling out of her hug and glaring at her.

“Oh, really? So you won’t get all hot and bothered if I say ‘salmon,’ right?” she said.

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Nobara, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” you said.

“Salmon,” she said, panting dramatically and clutching her chest. You threw a pillow at her, knocking her off of the bed in a fit of laughter.

“You suck,” you said.

“You swallow,” she shot back.

“Ugh! You’re hopeless!” you said, throwing your hands in the air.

“I’ll text the group chat to make plans for the party!” she said. You gave her the finger and stomped out of her room to go sit in your own and mope about the fact that Inumaki was leaving.

Really, this was probably a good thing. After all, with him gone, you didn’t have to worry about him accidentally finding out about your crush. And maybe you’d even be able to move on, though you had no idea who at this school would measure up to Inumaki.

Nobara’s plan was sound, though. A going away party would be perfect to wish him one final farewell — provided, of course, that you were able to keep it a secret from the boy. This was easier said than done, but you were determined. You would make Inumaki’s party an occasion to remember, but this meant you had to call in some help.

The first thing you did the next day was video call Okkotsu, who was currently in Africa, training with a sorcerer named Miguel. You had to track down Maki and beg her for his number; she had been very confused but had given it to you anyways.

This left you staring at your phone screen, praying he would pick up. Inumaki and Okkotsu were best friends, so it would be wrong to not tell the black-haired sorcerer about your plans. He also might have some insight as to where Inumaki was going and why he was leaving.

“Hello?” Thankfully, Okkotsu picked up, looking extraordinarily confused. There were dark circles under his eyes and a katana strapped to his back. Despite the fact that he looked battle ready, he was just sitting on a couch and shoving chips in his mouth. “Who is this?”

“Okkotsu, sir! This is Y/N, I’m one of the first years at Jujutsu Tech,” you said.

“Okay. Don’t call me sir, it’s weird and I’m only a year older than you. Is there a reason you’re calling me?” he said.

“Yes, there is. See, Inumaki —” you began before he cut you off.

“Ohhh, you’re that Y/N! Yeah, yeah, I completely approve,” he said.

“Did Nobara already tell you?” you said.

“No, Inumaki’s been telling me about this for months now! Who’s Nobara?” he said.

“Months? But we didn’t even start planning until yesterday,” you said.

“He’s been dreaming of this day since the beginning of the year, even video called me and everything! I don’t think I’ve heard him say ‘salmon’ as many times in a row ever before or since,” he said. Unbidden, you remembered Nobara’s actions from yesterday and shivered before shaking your head to clear such thoughts from your mind.

“Do you know why he…you know?” you said. If Inumaki really had been planning on leaving for so long, then certainly Okkotsu would know why. The boy hummed and nodded.

“Yeah, for sure! But it’s a little weird if I say it, you know? Against the bro code or whatever, and it’d feel a bit too much like I was trying to slide in, which I’m not! Just ask him, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to tell you. God, he must be so happy right now! I wish I could be there to see it,” he said.

“Well, that’s actually why I called you. I’m throwing a surprise party in honor of the occasion, and I was wondering if you’d be able to come, or at least video call in,” you said. Each word Okkotsu uttered was like a stab in the heart, further reinforcing the fact that Inumaki really, really, really didn’t like you. Why else did he make plans to leave the literal day he had met you? You only wished he would’ve gone sooner so that your feelings did not build up and compound from a simple admiration into something greater, something beautiful and untouchable yet twisted and cruel.

“Sounds like a great time! Just video call me, I’ll be sure to pick up. And I’ll try to send something along as a gift, too! Damn, I know it’s not my news to be excited for, but it feels as though my heart’s going to burst!” he said, popping a final chip into his mouth before hanging up. You stared at the phone’s black screen for a second, marvelling at how this short conversation had made you feel even worse about the status of your relationship with Inumaki.

Before, you had believed that the two of you were friends, at least. You both had gotten along well enough — you would train together and slip each other notes with book recommendations. He had told you his favorite restaurant and described exactly the meal you should order, and you had introduced him to your favorite television series. Yet with the latest revelations that your discussion with Okkotsu had brought about, it was clear that all of this was Inumaki doing the bare minimum to tolerate you until the day he could leave.

Maybe he was glad that he could speak, if only for a short time. It allowed him to tell you in no uncertain terms that he was going away. If only he had elaborated back then! If only he had said that he felt such a way about you from the very start instead of leading you on with candy-sweet platitudes and feigned affection.

With Okkotsu’s presence now confirmed (and a gift apparently on the way), you moved on to the next thing you had to do in order to prepare for the party: recruit the other second years.

You decided to start with Maki. Though she was seemingly brusque, she was also a caring girl, and you knew she’d be thrilled to help throw a farewell party for one of her closest friends, even if she had not known he was leaving until just now.

As expected, she was properly enraged upon hearing the news.

“He’s leaving? Leaving where, exactly? The only place he’ll be going is hell, because I’m about to punch him so hard that that’s where he’ll end up!” she said, balling her fists, a vein popping in her forehead.

“Woah, hey, Maki! I don’t know where he’s going, but please don’t confront him. I don’t think he wants people knowing, and I want the party to be a surprise. He might get suspicious if he realizes that you know,” you said.

“Stupid idiot, won’t even tell his own classmates that he’s going,” she muttered, “I’ll keep your secret. But I will be committing violence at the party.”

“Please don’t!” you said, distressed at the thought, “I want him to have a fun final memory of Jujutsu Tech.”

Her eyes softened when she looked at you, and she nodded begrudgingly. “Alright. Your secret, and your party, are safe with me. I won’t tell a soul! Although, you know…a surprise farewell party would be a great place to confess your feelings.”

“How — how do you know about my feelings?” you said.

“Firstly, you’re not exactly subtle, the others are just really oblivious. Secondly, Nobara mayyyy have let something slip,” she said.

“I’m going to kill her,” you said.

“Don’t,” she said.

“No, I’m seriously considering it,” you said.

“If you do, I’ll ruin Inumaki’s party,” she threatened.

“Fine!” you whined like a child, “I’m going to go talk to Panda.”

The large bear was asleep in the sun when you reached him. You nudged him with your foot in an attempt to get him to wake up; thankfully, he did, blinking his beetle-dark eyes open sleepily and sitting up when he saw you.

“Panda, I need your help,” you said seriously once you were sure that you had his undivided attention.

“What’s the matter?” he said.

“Inumaki’s leaving, so I’m throwing him a party,” you said. Panda furrowed his brow, clearly trying to process this development.

“He is?” he finally said. You nodded, a small frown tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah, he literally told me as much! He was all like ‘I leave you,’ and it was kind of upsetting, actually,” you said.

“How interesting,” he said finally, and now there was mischief in his expression, “And you need my help with hosting a party?”

“I don’t know how much of a party it’ll be, exactly, I mean it’ll only be the first and second years, but yes, basically,” you said. He chuckled, rubbing his paws together menacingly.

“Excellent. Yes, I’d love to help! And it’s a surprise, right?” he said.

“Yes?” you said. He looked almost evil at this point, baring his teeth in his version of a smirk.

“Even better.”

With the second years thusly recruited and the first years taken care of by Nobara (you wasn’t sure what, exactly, she had over Fushiguro to convince him to join in on the festivities, but judging by the sour expression on his face when he RSVP'd to you, it had to be something), the guest list was complete. Panda assured you he’d get Inumaki to come without being obvious, and you were happy to entrust the task to him.

This left you to go shopping for party supplies, using Gojo’s credit card (Fushiguro had told you where it was hidden). You had convinced Nobara to stay behind, claiming that she needed to hold down the fort in your absence and get started on cleaning the room you’d use for the party. That was a lie, of course — you actually just didn’t want to take her shopping with you. If she came, you wouldn’t be back before midnight, and the party was supposed to be tonight.

“Where are you going?” Inumaki said. You almost screamed at the sound of his voice; you hadn’t expected him to just manifest out of nowhere, and especially not when you were trying to sneak out of the school in order to buy things for his surprise party.

“Shopping!” you said.

“Can I come? I feel like things were kinda left off weirdly last time we spoke, and I hoped we could try to fix them,” he said. You were unused to hearing him speak so many words at once, and you were mesmerised for a second before you mentally slapped yourself out of it.

“No! You cannot come. Sorry,” you said, feeling bad. You wanted nothing more than to talk with Inumaki, to talk and talk until your throat went dry and your words ran out, but if he saw what you were shopping for, then he’d catch on to the plan.

“Oh. Is it because I told you — ?”

“Absolutely not!” you yelped, cutting him off, not wanting him to get any ideas, “I’m shopping for personal things. Like tampons.”

“I don’t really mind that,” he said shyly, “I don’t think tampons are gross. I mean, they’re only plastic and cotton. I just really want to talk with you.”

“Sex toys!” you said.

“Um, what?” he said, taken aback. Your face was hot with embarrassment, but you needed him to understand that he was not allowed to come shopping with you. So you locked eyes with him and tried to repeat yourself.

“I am going shopping for, uh, you know…I mean, you heard me!” you said.

“Right!” he said, and he was so completely red you almost called him Clifford, “I’ll leave you to it, then! I guess we can talk later.”

You gave him a fake smile and a thumbs up, staying frozen in place until he had disappeared from sight. Then, with a wail, you called Nobara.

“I fucking told him I was shopping for sex toys!” you said, not even waiting for her to greet you like usual. There was a long silence on the other end of the line before someone cleared their throat.

“This is Fushiguro,” he said. You promptly hung up and cursed your luck. You should’ve sent Nobara to do the shopping. You really, reallyshould’ve sent Nobara.

That evening, as the sun set over the horizon and Panda distracted Inumaki, the rest of you decorated the room that Nobara and Yuji had cleared earlier in the day. Maki and Nobara were too busy whispering amongst each other to actually help, though, and you were hiding in the corner, too terrified of his reaction to even glance in Fushiguro’s direction. For his part, he did an excellent job of ignoring you, leaving him and Yuji to do the majority of the setting up.

When anxiety made it difficult to breathe, you began to fiddle with the projector, where Okkotsu’s face would be shown once he called in to the party. The green light was blinking, which meant that it was ready to go and was only waiting for you to connect your phone to it.

“It’s going to be fine,” Nobara soothed you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I think he’ll be thankful you planned something like this at all.”

“And I still think you should confess your feelings,” Maki said, adding her unwanted opinion, “Seriously! If he rejects you then it doesn’t matter, because he’ll just be leaving soon anyways. I think you should consider it.”

“She’s right,” Nobara said, “Here, maybe this’ll motivate you.”

She leaned in until her lips were barely brushing against the shell of your ear, cool breath tickling against your neck.

“What are you doing?” you said, unamused. She pitched her voice lower before speaking.

“Bonito flakes.”

“You little — stop doing that! I do not have an ingredients fetish!” you shouted, hitting her shoulder repeatedly. She burst into raucous laughter, tears of mirth gathering along her lash line.

“I’m going to have to request you to please stop talking about your intimate life in front of me, please,” Fushiguro said uncomfortably, “I already know far more than I ever wanted to.”

“Fushiguro, it wasn’t like that, I was shopping for party supplies! I only said the other thing to throw Inumaki off the trail,” you said.

“Okay,” he said, obviously not believing you but allowing you to pretend, “Whatever you say.”

“Shh! Panda and Inumaki are on their way!” Yuji said, interrupting the conversation by hushing all of you obnoxiously, “Everyone, positions!”

You all ducked behind various pieces of furniture, and one of Fushiguro’s Divine Dogs hit the light switch, plunging the room into darkness before it melted into the shadows once more.

A second later, the door creaked open, revealing Inumaki and Panda’s silhouettes standing in the frame. From beside you, Nobara began to giggle, and you pinched her in an effort to get her to shut up. It worked, although it did have the unfortunate consequence of her pinching you back.

“What’s going on here?” Inumaki said, turning the lights on. As soon as he did, you all (with the exception of Fushiguro, of course) leapt out at him. He fell backwards in surprise, staring up at you through thick lashes.

“Surprise!” Yuji said.

“It’s not my birthday?” Inumaki said.

“Do you see a cake anywhere?” Nobara said, “This isn’t a birthday party, it’s a farewell party!”

“A farewell party? But who are we saying farewell to?” Inumaki said in confusion.

“You. Did you think we wouldn’t care about your departure? You idiot, we’re going to miss you so much!” Maki said, sniffing and wiping away a tear.

“Let’s all go around and share our favorite memories with Inumaki,” Yuji said. Inumaki seemed dumbfounded, so Nobara took the initiative to respond.

“That’s a great idea! I’ll go first — I really enjoyed the one time he let me paint his nails,” she said.

“I don’t have any good memories,” Fushiguro deadpanned, “But if I had to pick a tolerable one, it would be when I convinced him to use his Cursed Speech on Nanami.”

“I remember that!” Maki said, howling in laughter, “And I can’t pick a favorite memory. We just have too many good ones.”

“Same!” Yuji said, and he was bawling now for some reason, “You’re just so cool, Inumaki! I’m so sad that you’re going!”

“Y/N, what about you?” Maki said.

“Confess! Confess! Confess!” Nobara chanted, not even trying to be subtle about it anymore.

“Be quiet!” you said.

“Do it or I’ll do it for you!” she said. You looked around at the audience; they all seemed interested, even Fushiguro. Though you wanted to talk to Inumaki in a bit more of a private setting, Nobara and Maki were right in that this was the perfect time to say something. So, taking a deep breath, you faced the boy.

“Inumaki,” you said, “I know that I’ve been acting weird recently, ever since you told me you’ll be going, but that’s because I don’t want you to. See, the truth is that I love you. I think I have for a while now, and I’m going to miss you, and I don’t want you to go, so please don’t. Please stay.”

He blinked. “Huh? What do you mean? I never said I was going anywhere.”

“Yes you did!” you said, pointing at him accusingly, “I remember it! That day in the infirmary!”

“I didn’t say I was going anywhere, I said I leave you!” he said.

“That’s the same thing!” you said indignantly, “You’re getting upset about semantics when I just confessed that I love you, idiot! Doesn’t that even mean anything to you?”

“No? I’ve never heard of that word before!” he said.

“Love? You’ve never heard of love before?” you said. He shook his head.

“Nope,” he said.

“L-O-V-E. Love. That rings no bells?” you said. His face suddenly went snow-white.

“L-O-V-E is pronounced…love?” he said.

“How the hell else would it be pronounced?” you snapped, feeling far too bewildered and irritated to soften your words. How could he have treated your feelings so flippantly? How did he just not understand love?

Inumaki suddenly found the floor incredibly fascinating. “...leave.”

“What?” You said.

“What?” he said innocently.

“OH MY GOD!” Nobara squealed, catching on far quicker than you, “You both are idiots!” Finally, you began to understand, and then you were inclined to agree with her.

“So you’re not going anywhere?” you checked.

“No, I’m not,” he said.

“He hasn’t been able to speak for practically his entire life,” Panda said, shoulders shaking with laughter, “Can you blame him if he mispronounces a couple of words now and then? It’s not like anybody’s ever corrected him before.”

Mispronounced words. He had mispronounced one of the simplest words in the English language, and it had led to all of this.

“You’re not leaving,” you said again, drawing closer to him, “You’re not leaving me.”

“I won’t ever leave you if you don’t want me to,” he said, wrapping his arms around you in a warm hug.

“Don’t,” you said, “Please don’t.”

“I love you. That’s what I meant to say all along,” he said.

“I guess I threw this whole party for nothing, then,” you said, hiding your face in his shirt.

“Is this what you were shopping for earlier? Not…the other things?” he said.

“Yeah. It was just a surprise, so I didn’t want you coming along,” you said, feeling bashful at how entirely silly the entire affair had ended up being. He let out a warm, gentle laugh that caused his chest to vibrate against your cheek.

“It’ll be hard, you know. Once this week is over, I’ll be back to only speaking in rice ball ingredients,” he warned.

“That’s probably for the best. Less room for misinterpretation,” you said.

“Plus, she has an ingredients fetish!” Nobara chimed in. You withdrew from the safety of Inumaki’s shirt to scowl at her.

“Enough with the ingredients fetish!”

A knock at the door interrupted the tense showdown; Panda opened it to reveal a delivery man, who was holding a package and fidgeting, probably out of fear, considering he was face to face with a giant, sentient panda.

“I have a package from an Okkotsu Yuta, addressed here?” he said. You slapped your forehead.

“Shit, I forgot about him! Thank you,” you said, accepting the box and then quickly calling Okkotsu.

“Hey, guys!” he said cheerily. His phone must have been set up against the wall of a building or something, because it showed him busy using his katana to exorcise curses and not even breaking a sweat, “Sorry, this isn’t a great time, but congratulations on getting together! I hope you like your present — hey! Stay away from the iPhone!” The screen abruptly went dark as a curse swiped at Okkotsu’s cell phone, knocking it down while the sorcerer snarled.

“Open the present!” Yuji said excitedly.

Inside of the box were two bright pink t-shirts. Both of them had white lettering on them — one said I’m Okkotsu Yuta’s Best Friend Foreverand the other said I’m Okkotsu Yuta’s Girlfriend-in-Law.

You all stared at them, expressions varying from amusement to delight to horror. You didn’t even question how Okkotsu had known that you and Inumaki would confess to each other. Clearly, he already thought you both were together, so it was really just divine timing in that sense.

Somewhere in Africa, Okkotsu finished exorcising the curses and sheathed his katana, casting aside his jacket to reveal a bright pink shirt that said on it in white lettering, I’m Okkotsu Yuta.

“Maybe they’ll let me third wheel,” he mused to himself, “I mean, they had better, considering how hard these shirts were to find at the thrift store.”

[baigojo]

sypnosis: you nearly drunk confess your undeniable attraction to your fucking roommate.

content - gojo x fem!reader, suggestive content, pining, alcohol consumption, lmk if i missed any

wc. 1.1k words

a/n - this is my first post on tumblr :DD

the embers of the bonfire illuminate the beach. the sun was setting and the water started to glisten. the fire was the only source of light and warmth— nights on the beach tend to get cold from time to time, but maybe not so much when satoru’s around. that’s just your opinion, though. 

he’s on the other side of the bonfire, eyeing it in all it’s glory— but you were eyeing him instead. 

“are you gonna drink or are you gonna keep staring at me?” he said suddenly. his half empty glass of amber tipped towards you and you carefully began to examine if the breeze got to him as your eyes traveled up his hand then to his arm. satoru was nearly half naked. his floral print shirt was unbuttoned all the way down, gracefully revealing the ridges and bumps of his abs. at the rare times your schedule aligned with satoru’s, you’d see him entering your shared apartment with a glistening sheet of sweat over his skin. a handkerchief would hang over his shoulder and a water bottle would be held loosely in his grasp. this one specific time he arrived home though, satoru’s bangs were suspended up with a black headband. 

“d’you make dinner yet?” he’d ask, and it shamefully made you think you were a measly little housewife awaiting for her husband to come home. that wasn’t the case clearly, although you’d wish it was.

“not yet,” you would mumble back, finally stealing a glance at him for the first time he entered the apartment. a pause in your operations occurred. satoru undid the zipper of his sweater, carefully revealing the black undershirt he kept hidden underneath. you might think this is the tightest black shirt you’d ever fucking seen. removing the sweater from his shoulder, you could barely register how the short sleeves would cling onto the curve of his biceps skintight. you had your few assumptions of your fellow roommate and frankly, you thought that all he had going for him was his height and his boyish charm. turns out, he has height, boyish charm, and beefy ass biceps to back him up. you itched at the gap of silence you created, snapping yourself back to reality.

“uh- yeah, wait-“ you finally cut in. you raised your substantially-full glass after having been forgotten on the table not long ago. shortly before, suguru, your other roommate, had ushered himself in the cabin to take a shower, leaving you and satoru alone. you weren’t fond of beer, or any alcohol for that matter. you just figured it was that kind of night to drown yourself in it— gulping the remnants of your cup down. the aftertaste stinging at the back of your throat, mirroring a bitter taste at the flat of your tongue. your face cringed at the rapid intake and satoru’s hand met the small of your back to steady you from spilling the drink on yourself.

“take it easy,” he says, almost giggling at your eagerness. you noticed satoru wasn’t wearing the sunglasses he often wore around the apartment. you remember he had worn them earlier when suguru was present but when had he taken them off? you couldn’t remember. perhaps, the alcohol was already starting to kick in.

“d-don’t tell me what to do,” you slurred, the burning sensation in your stomach failed to go away. satoru was really pretty. prettier than the sunset. but you’d never tell him that, never in a million years. as far as you know, his ego stretched to the stars. he didn’t need to be called pretty another time. his eyes lingered on you for a moment, as if he was calculating what he was about to say.  

“you’re a lightweight, huh,” he started, “do you want another glass?” it was cold all of a sudden. there was a particularly strong breeze when he said that and you wish you had drank the alcohol sooner. maybe by now, you wouldn’t be able to notice how the side of his thigh brushed against yours. maybe by now, you wouldn’t have felt the heat radiating from him, the bonfire no longer supplying you with any. and maybe by now, he wouldn’t have noticed you rubbing your own thighs together while peering down. were you cold or was he just warm? 

you shook your head at him. the buzz set in instantly.  

you wish it had gotten to the point where the night came to a stop in a fuzzy blur but you hadn’t reached that point quite yet. satoru was still, in all his glory, as close to you as possible. he towered over you— even while sitting down and you wished he was a white blob in your vision instead of the dreamy roommate you consequently learned to be the one you’re infatuated with. “can i tell you something, gojo?” 

he noticed your closeness and distanced himself from you. he hummed in response and reached to rake his fingers through his hair. they’re long. longer than yours. thicker too. 

he paused as a question itched at the back of his throat. “what’s with you calling me gojo. we’re friends, aren’t we? call me satoru instead,” he scoffed. he said it almost like he was agitated. satoru was nearly 3 years your senior and it only made sense (to you) to be respectful and call him by his last name. you flush at the sudden proposition nonetheless. You had never called him by his first name out loud before— minus the lonely nights where you’d bury your hands between your legs at the thought of him. but that’s besides the point.

“ok, satoru–” not quite knowing where you were going with the question, suddenly feeling immense embarrassment. unbeknownst to you, he raised an eyebrow at the way shoulders started to shiver. he had stripped the shirt he was covering himself in and draped it over your shoulders instead. “do you want to go back inside, then?”

your face lifted at the question, now noticing an even more half naked satoru brushing up against you. your face might have been hotter than the bonfire now. “y-yes please,” rising from your spot, satoru helped you limp up to the steps and back into the beach house where shoko and suguru resided. 

you failed to remember one part of that night, though.

shortly after you called him by his first name, he didn’t realize you would lie on his lap. maybe you were more of a lightweight than he thought. the stark size difference between the palm of his hand and your face startled him but it’s not like he cared. he found it cute. when you oh-so politely accepted his offer to head back inside, his stomach clenched at how he was instinctively more self-aware of your head shifting in his lap. fuck. he got a boner from that?

[jessamine-rose]

✿⚘❁⚘❀ Astilbe ❀⚘❁⚘✿

Fufufu after all these months, here’s another Herbarium epilogue with more dark fluff and comfort. It was nostalgic to write for Capitano and his darling again (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, psychological trauma, Stockholm Syndrome

♡ 1.2k words under the cut ♡

The astilbe’s beauty has faded.

The pressed flowers are only a phantom of the radiant clusters you picked weeks ago. The petals have lost their brilliance. The feathery plumes have been reduced to flat shapes.

This is a natural consequence of preservation, one which occurs to all of your flowers. So why do you feel particularly mournful for the astilbe?

Maybe the flowers aren’t the problem. Rather, it’s you.

Your wedding ring twinkles on your index finger, an unavoidable sight. The sculpted flowers serve as a constant reminder of your marital status, disregarding the fact that you and your captor never had an official ceremony.

Capitano…what time will he be home? You usually accompany him to Zapolyarny Palace but he decided against it today. Important business, he claimed.

Nonetheless, he treated you so kindly before his departure. He’d given your new guard a stern warning which, even in his formal tone, sounded more like a death threat. You received a soft kiss, some new books, a promise of his immediate return.

Your life has never been happier. So why are you still plagued with your bad days?

You are used to this feeling, the ever-present melancholy which has haunted you even before you met Capitano—those hours spent trapping flowers in your notebook, escaping reality through storybooks, reliving memories better left forgotten. Perhaps it is your subconscious upset with you, the double curse of your self-awareness and resignation.

How can you believe in his love, knowing it is a twisted delusion?

Despite this, you’ve never smiled more since the day you accepted your fate.

Since meeting Capitano, you even remembered how to cry. Compared to your past tears and “tantrums,” the action feels oddly cathartic nowadays. Like a call for help finally answered by your own devoted knight.

The sound of heavy footsteps interrupts your thoughts.

Your husband is home.

The door opens. Capitano enters the room.

“______, is everything well?”

“Capitano.” You leave your desk and meet him halfway. “Did you mi—how was work? You arrived earlier than usual.”

He feels warm. You lean into his embrace, letting him be the first to pull away. His hands remain on your waist.

“The new recruits show potential.” He looks down at you, face hidden by his mask. After a short pause, he adds, “Did you take kindly to Sergeant Naiad?”

“Cyane was all right,” you reply, shrugging. “They just kept quiet and watched me from a distance. They are nothing like Ceres, if that is what you’re asking.”

The change in his tone isn’t lost on you. “That is acceptable. Should they infringe on your personal boundaries, inform me at once.”

Is that even necessary? He already has his spies to monitor your behavior.

Your notebook is still open to the astilbe. Capitano walks over to your desk, keeping one hand on the small of your back.

“I presume that your astilbe has been fully preserved.” He taps the corner of the page, careful not to touch the pink and white flowers.

You make no motion to retrieve it. “Yes. They’re…not as pretty as when I first saw them. Or maybe that’s just my perception.”

He turns to face you. “If you desire more astilbe, we may revisit the botanical garden.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Shouldn’t this be enough? What more must he do for you?

“Which flowers do you want?” You return to your chair, feeling a familiar stab of guilt. “I’ll let you pick first this time.”

“My darling, what troubles you?”

Huh?

Capitano caresses your cheek this time.

“You are in low spirits,” he observes. Anger creeps into his tone, faint yet palpable. “Did you tell me the truth about Sergeant Naiad?”

You quickly nod. “I was! I just feel…it’s nothing, really! Nothing worth your trouble.”

He remains adamant. “I would be an inattentive husband if I fail to care for my wife.”

What kind of expression is on his face? Even with his face concealed, you don’t want to look at him. Anything to prevent him from perceiving your distress.

From your peripheral vision, an image catches your attention—a framed drawing on your desk, illustrated by the same artist who painted the family portrait in your living room.

-

“Such an odd couple,” they muttered.

You had to agree with them. With his mask and fine armor, Capitano was an intimidating subject. You, on the other hand, looked small and delicate in your lacy gown. But your close physical contact left no doubt that the two of you belonged to the same picture.

The artist spent more time on you. They took a while to capture your face, describing your gaze as a dim mystery. You didn’t mind; it meant more time in your husband’s arms.

During a short break, you faced Capitano to chat with him. That was when the artist froze, staring at you with renewed interest. A silent look from the former, however, was all it took for them to fearfully return to their canvas.

The finished portrait came with a small pencil sketch. You were looking at Capitano with bright eyes and a fond smile, unrecognizable even to yourself.

-

“______?” He holds your hand. His own ring twinkles above your interlocked fingers.

“I…It’s not important,” you insist. Despite yourself, you feel your heart racing for reasons not borne from fear. “I’ve dealt with this before. The issue will go away on its own.”

Foolish girl. Since when was your captor one to leave you alone?

Ever the patient man, Capitano kneels down to meet your gaze.

“One word from you, and I will do everything in my power to alleviate your sorrows,” he tells you. The soft declaration is juxtaposed by his firm grasp on your hand. “How could I be at peace when my beloved flower is in pain?”

Words fail you. You stare at your lap, gripping the armrest with your free hand. It is his next words, spoken with quiet resolution, which spell your defeat.

“But if you refuse to smile, that is also acceptable. I will stay by your side regardless.”

You give up.

At first, Capitano tenses when you throw your arms around him. The hesitation which follows—the way he carefully reciprocates your hug, measuring his strength…it only tugs at your heartstrings all the more.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Your eyes feel damp; are you crying? Your tears don’t match your mood at all.

What is there to worry about? Time and time again, your husband has proven his unwavering devotion to you.

Why should you torture yourself with the truth of your marriage? Freedom is nothing compared to this false happily ever after.

Who cares about the astilbe? You already have the most beautiful, eternal flowers wrapped around your finger.

Capitano’s heartbeat is comforting. He traps you in his embrace, rubbing circles on your back. You don’t need to see past his mask to know what tender emotions lie in his gaze.

“You’re welcome,” he says. He lifts your wrist to his mask, imparting a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I feel a bit better thanks to you.”

♡

Side Story ๑ Epilogue ๑ Another Comfort Fic

A few months ago, I started this fic cuz I was sad. And now that I’m less sad, I decided to finish it and cry over Capitano again. Aahh he and Damsel always put me in a soft mood TvT

Once again, thank you to @diodellet for your support as my bestie and peer reviewer. Last year, she actually wrote her own Herbarium-inspired comfort fic which I beta-read and linked above. Her smut is amazing and well-written, so pls check it out <3

Do share your thoughts on this fic!! And if you read the teaser for Astilbe, look at me in the eye and tell me that the Captain isn’t the best at comforting his darling ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @nicebonescomrades @harmonysanreads @ansy-tea @leftdestiny-posts @thescribeoflostmemories @kocherry @gum-iie @oofasleep @shumidehiro @ryo-ri @dulcetthorns @lambdrop @uhhhh-hi-im-sorry-for-this @the-dreaming-city @lyra-mew @yanmaresu @frogchiro @lcveaesop @micchikari

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

For a long time, Max was the only person who could speak fluent Billy Hargrove. She first learned out of necessity. Out of fear that if she didn’t interpret signals correctly, she’d be swept up in a storm of rage.

At some point, it became less about avoiding tantrums and more about… giving her brother space.

They haven’t lived under the same roof for the better part of a year now. Things are different. Things are better, even, but when she sees him stalking around the trailer with his shoulders tensed and eyebrows drawn together, she decides that maybe things aren’t all that different.

He’s not punching holes in walls or picking unnecessary fights, but his fuse still looks particularly short.

She stays sat between Lucas and Dustin on the sofa, neither of whom seem to have noticed her brother’s decline in mood, and continues munching on popcorn. Hopes that the volume of the tv and the sounds of crunching don’t awaken a bitter rage in him.

Eddie doesn’t seem to share her feelings when he bounds inside, letting the door clap on the frame behind him as he sweeps his hair back into a ponytail. Max winces at the noise and shrinks in her seat.

Readies herself for the familiar, inevitable sound of arguing from the kitchen.

Instead, she hears Eddie chuckle.

“Hey, sourpuss,” he says.

Despite the guarded stance that Billy takes, Eddie moves closer. Either because he’s too stupid to notice or simply doesn’t care. Maybe both.

Every warning signal and siren is going off in Max’s brain as Eddie reaches out. She watches Billy’s fists clench at his sides and how his jaw tightens as slender arms wrap around his shoulders.

She comes to terms with the fact that she’s probably about to watch Eddie die until Billy just… sags into the hug.

“Tough guy just needs some lovin’, huh?” Eddie teases.

He cradles the blond close, smiling when Billy nuzzles into the crook of his neck. Billy grumbles something incoherent. Sets his hands on Eddie’s waist and leans harder into him when the brunet cards a hand into his hair.

The display has Max reeling in her seat.

Maybe she’s lost her touch. Maybe she doesn’t speak Billy as well as she thought she did. The thought kind of bums her out, surprisingly.

Eddie traces his fingers lightly down Billy’s spine and provokes a shiver. Has him melting in a matter of seconds like he’s as good as putty in Eddie’s hands.

When Billy shifts against him and lays his head down on his shoulder, Max catches a glimpse of his expression. Sees how tired he suddenly looks.

It occurs to her then that maybe he never looked angry in the first place, just… tense.

It also occurs to her that she hasn’t lost understanding of her brother — she still knows him perfectly well. At least, the image of him in her head that she has from a year ago.

He’s speaking an entirely new language now.

A year ago, balled fists meant something was bound to be broken, whether it be a nose or a skateboard. Now it doesn’t seem to mean that at all.

Eddie seems convinced that he was never in any danger, judging by the way that he’s plastering kisses into messy curls.

That speaks for itself.

“Want me to make you a sandwich or something, moody?” Eddie coos. “I bet it would make you feel better.”

“‘M not moody,” Billy mumbles.

Eddie chuckles.

“Do you want the usual stuff on your sandwich?”

There’s a pause. Billy sighs, accepting defeat.

“Yeah…”

It’s like, in a matter of moments, Eddie has completely dismantled him. Like some kind of snake charmer or something. Alligator whisperer or what have you.

No swearing or arguing or popped neck veins in sight.

Max can’t hear whatever it is that Eddie whispers to him next, but it has the blond cracking a smile as he leans back. They share a kiss. Then another, and Billy is giggling when Eddie doesn’t let up after a few more pecs.

By the time they part, Billy’s face is flushed pink and he’s grinning like an idiot.

Eddie admires him for a moment before he marches over to the refrigerator, leaving him standing next to the counter. Softened like butter on a warm countertop.

Though Eddie Munson was the last guy Max expected to take on the title of Billy’s handler, she’s happy that he did.

On second thought, she’s glad that she isn’t the only one who speaks her brother’s language anymore.

She’s glad someone finally understands him.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Deuce, Malleus: My Dream, to Defend

I now read everything Malleus says as extremely ominous and foreboding (knowing the context of book 7) 👨 THEY’RE ALL RED FLAGS 🚩, YOUR HONOR *proceeds to perpetuate the red flags by giving Malleus reasonably optimistic but also ominous-in-the-right-context dialogue*

Also??? Why are Ace and Deuce's faces on their birthday cards so similar 😂 They kinda match, even their Groovies (they kind of look like they're racing each other!)… cute

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

“What makes you glad you can use magic?”

Malleus paused, pondering the question. “What an odd inquiry.”

“For Malleus-senpai, yeah. You use magic for almost everything! It must be hard to just pick one thing about it that makes you go, 'I'm thankful for this!'. But for me…” Deuce tilted his head back, looking up to the structure that loomed over them.

It was the main building of the campus, housing numerous classrooms and offices. Regal and imposing, with several turreted towers and balconies, it was less an academic institution and more like a castle. A castle where dreams and wishes came true. Among them, his--if he worked hard enough.

"I'm happy that I got into Night Raven College," he said earnestly. "I never thought I had the magic potential to make it to a place like this, but here I am... standing at the steps."

Malleus's mouth curled. "What a surprise. Many of the students I've encountered here are the self-assured types. If I may ask... Why is it that you did not believe yourself worthy to stand among us here?"

"Long story short, I was kind of a delinquent back then. I'd use my magic to get up to no good. Y'know, laying the smackdown on anyone that talked shit or looked at me the wrong way."

"... 'Lay the smackdown'? 'Talked shit'? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with such colloquialisms."

"Er, it sounds really wrong hearing those words come from you... Basically, it means 'fighting' and, 'when people say bad things about you'. Got it?"

"I understand. Perhaps I will take care to incorporate such terms into my vocabulary. It may even make me appear more approachable to others."

"AHHHH!!!" Deuce startled, frantically waving his hands to silence his interviewer. "M-Maybe that's not such a good idea!! I think Sebek'd tackle me to the ground and kill me on the spot for teaching you bad words..."

"Fufufu, I jest."

"A-Are you really...?"

"Of course. Please, continue sharing your story." Malleus gestured for him to proceed. "Pray tell, why is it that you became entangled in such affairs?"

"Lots of stuff," Deuce said vaguely. "Mostly because I stood out. Didn't really fit in. It was easier to take out my frustrations on others than to work on myself.

"When my magic came to me, it was helpful to have in fights. It would drive some people off, and they'd leave me alone. They were scared of getting crushed again by a cauldron."

"Scared, you say... Hmm." Malleus looked pensive. "I see. So there are cases where non-mages feel threatened by the existence of mages."

"Huh?!" Deuce stared at him, eyes bulging. "That never occurred to you before, senpai?!"

"Magic comes naturally to me. It is capable of blessings and miracles. I cannot imagine why anyone would fear it."

"Well, I think it's because magic can do good things, but it can also do bad things.”

“Good and bad…” Malleus’s brows crinkled as the considered the thought, a finger to his chin.

Deuce’s stomach dropped at the sight. “Did I speak out of turn?! Y-You don’t have to listen to what I said if you don’t want to, senpai! Forget me, wh-what do I know anyway?!”

“… No, not at all. I was just thinking about your words. It reminds me of something my grandmother told me.”

“Eh, your grandma? Y-You don’t mean the queen of Briar Valley? I… reminded you of her?” Deuce squealed, afraid to speak her name.

“Yes, she.” Malleus’s eyes darkened, resembling a storm right before lightning struck. “Grandmother says that we Draconias were gifted with great powers—and with it, great responsibility to our people and their smiles. It is with this power that we are able to protect our country.

“Is it not similar for magic in general? The wielder is the one who determines whether one’s magic is used for ‘good’ or for ‘bad’ means. In which case… it is up to each of us to use what we have for ‘good’.”

“Draconia-senpai…!!” Deuce clutched a fist to his heart. A smile was at his lips, his eyes shining. “You get me!! I… I want to use my magic for things like that! To defend my friends and my family…!!”

“That is the way.” Malleus smirked, relishing in the newfound fire in his junior’s eyes. “The power to protect those you love is within your own hands. All you must do is shape it, guide it… and make that dream come true, regardless of the obstacles that may cross your path.”

“I’ll do my best!! If there’s one thing I know I’m good at, it’s being stubborn!”

“That kind of persistence is unique to you.” Malleus showed his teeth. “Take pride in that, Spade.”

"You bet I will!!"

"... Incidentally, how do you fare in Defense Magic?"

"Urk!!" The birthday boy visibly deflated--an indication of his answer. "N-Not the best... I studied as much as I could, but still barely passed my last exam. But don't worry about me, Draconia-senpai!!"

Deuce pointed at his temple. "I'll train my brain even more so I can get at least a C next time!!"

A C... so he means to say that he earned a D on his previous exam.

A low laugh rumbled out of Malleus. “How truly tenacious of you, Spade. I wish you the best of luck on that journey.”

He lifted a hand, fingers curling around the milky orb floating in the sky. The wind rustled upon his command, ushering in a cool breeze that chased off the bleating heat of summer.

“The birthday road, and your future, awaits.”

“Yes!! I’m on my way!!” Deuce eagerly mounted his broom. His knees were tucked together tightly, stiffly securing the handle.

“Ah, and Spade. One more thing.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“When the times comes,” Malleus said with an easy smile, “you are free to defend yourself against my magic.”

Deuce nearly fell off of his broom at the suggestion. “Whaaat?! There’s no way I’d be able to hold up against your magic…! I’ll be just a pile of ashes by the time you’re done with…”

He caught himself and stopped. A deep breath taken, and then he set his jaw. The peacock green of his eyes had dimmed into a shade more serious.

“… No. I… I just told you that I wanted to be the kind of guy who’s capable of defending the people he loves. That means no running away, even if I’m scared, even if I know I might not win! That’s my promise to myself.”

“Fufu, that’s what I like to hear. I will be expecting you sometime then.”

Deuce gulped. “Got it! I’ll face your challenge and my future… head-on!!”

FwooooOOOSH!!

A steady wind kicked up, starting small and growing into a powerful gale. Deuce yelped as his broom bucked forward, inching above the ground on only a few startled sparkles. He looked back in horror, only to find Malleus chuckling into a hand.

Had that been a magical push?

“Heh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?” A wicked glint had surfaced in Deuce, from the eyes to his grin. “I’ll show you just how I ride…!”

Gripping the handle tightly, he leaned forward, bracing himself for a familiar rush. Height wasn’t his goal, but speed.

The world stilled. His senses sharpened, his thoughts growing louder, more insistent.

Imagine a magical wheel. Think of becoming one with the wind. So fast that you’re not yourself anymore.

He blasted off, a tornado of swirling blue petals left where he had once been. Flitting down lazily, drunken on the moonlight, they were the mark of a speed demon reborn.

The past, far behind him.