#also I do think it’s ooc that all it takes is a fall from grace for chattiest bitch in living memory wwx

[frankensteincest]

I think Wei Wuxian going from arrogant, shunning his place in society, chatty as fuck but never says anything real -> basically the same but with LWJ on his side this time is not a good story actually. we were doing so well with the gradual buildup of past revelations and parallels between the senior trio (Lan Xichen-Jin Guangyao-Nie Mingjue) and the succeeding one (LWJ-WWX-JC) but then it all fell apart. there’s a difference between confronting your current self and developing from it vs. ignoring the past and living an idyllic dream.

[tunafruitt]

--> ||❝ The Creator has a.. LOVER?! ❞

SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, gender neutral reader, slight crack, reader gets called a test subject and is implied to be used as one [Dottore’s part] OOC w/ Dottore..? Idk I haven’t finished sumeru yet </3

[ The people of Teyvat find out their grace has been romantically involved with someone for a while now.. what do they think about it? ]

Character(s): DOTTORE, XIAO

-> [ DOTTORE ]

“The Doctor is the Creator’s suitor? As in… the Second of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers? Are you sure that’s him? You are? Oh.. is— Is Your Grace feeling okay? I don’t see why anyone would be willingly involved with the Fatui Harbingers. What?! No! I’m not saying that’s not okay. Your Grace can do whatever they want! Hmph..”

The people of Teyvat felt conflicted to say the least. They weren’t judging your ability to make choices! They really weren’t… they just thought that there were better choices out there for Their Grace!! Yeah, everyone knew you liked the harbingers even before you descended, but couldn’t you have chosen a less deranged harbinger? For example… uhm... none of them.

Dottore could really care less what everyone else thought of his relationship with you though. He got the full package! His lover was the All Mighty Creator, and now he has a new “test subject”! (he says it affectionately.) Dottore knows people hate him even more than before, but who’s the one with the Creator’s arms wrapped around them, head over heels? This benefits him in so many ways. Wether it be research, obtaining materials, or just being able to have something more to use against the rest of the harbingers.

No one would ever dare voice the opinions they have of him while you’re in the vicinity. They’ll listen to you talk about a “date” you had with Dottore, which was really just you and him in his lab…. and he’s using you to help with his research. Hearing this, the rest of the allogene’s eyes are twitching, their fists are clenched, they’re FURIOUS. Not at you! Never. They’re mad at Dottore. How dare he use you as a test subject?! (you volunteered) How dare he use you to try to make another god?! (you thought that sounded fun) How dare he be IN LOVE with the All Mighty Creator?! (you fell first.)

When the two of you are seen in public, the streets go QUIET. Dottore carries this eerie aura with him, everyone knows who he is. And adding to the fact he’s a harbinger, he is also now recognized as the Creator’s suitor. Everyone besides you feels the silence and the stares, including Dottore, but if his lover is happy does it really matter? <3

In conclusion, everyone hopes Dottore dies. It’s not that they don’t want to see you happy. In fact, the entirety of Teyvat is glad you’re experiencing love and joy, just not with HIM.

─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ��

You spend a lot of days in Dottore’s lab. Today was one of those days.

You were conversing with one of Dottore’s younger clones. The clones, while being segments of Dottore, have their own distinct personalities. The one thing they hold in common is the love they have for you.

You love talking to the clones and giving them breaks from whatever days-long tasks Dottore gives them, but you miss the Dottore who’s the last thing you see before you fall asleep and after you wake up. You haven’t seen him since yesterday! Is this really how your boyfriend treats his lover…. who also happens to be the Creator???

And so you decide to go look for him. Who would’ve guessed he was sitting where he always was; his desk. Once you’ve spotted him, as payback for leaving you alone, you decide to sneak up on him. You try your hardest to silence your steps as much as possible in this hollow and echoey office of his.

“I can hear you, Y/N.”

“No you can’t... C’mon Dottore! Cut me some slack. I haven’t seen you since yesterday… and you didn’t even come to say good morning to me today!”

“Good morning.”

“It’s 4:00 PM, love. Take a break. It’s not like I’ll die anytime soon… can I even die..? Uhm.. that’s besides the point. You can conduct your experiments on me and do you research later. Come entertain me, please?”

“Are you asking because I have a choice?”

Your silence gives him an answer. You pull him up from his chair by grabbing his hands and pull him into a hug. You lean in closer to peck his cheek. He leans into you and grabs you by the waist to pull you closer—

“Doctor, the segments have finished—“

“Oh.”

-> [ XIAO ]

“Oh! One of the adepti? THE VIGILANT YAKSHA?! S-sorry that caught me by surprise… So the Yaksha is dating the Creator, huh. His tales have been documented for millennia’s, yet he’s rarely seen in public… I guess even someone like that can’t help but fall for Our Grace.”

So that must be why you always cooked Almond Tofu… Well, since Xiao IS the Conqueror of Demons, I can see the people of Liyue being quite happy. Jealous? Yes. But who’s even more jealous? Mondstadt. Why couldn’t it be one of the Knights of Favonious or something? But they guess you’re happy and that’s enough… (Though it could’ve been with them.)

Xiao is seen a little more often with you now that it’s confirmed you two are dating. Not too often, but if you want to go try out a restaurant in the city of Liyue, he’ll never say no. He may not speak much, but according to rumors is Liyue… “his eyes are always on you, listening to anything and everything the Creator has to say. It’s clear he’s fallen completely in love!” (Said by Chef Mao, probably.)

Being Xiao’s partner may seem awkward from an outsiders perspective, but he’s surprisingly sweet! He still won’t talk much, but he’ll reply to any questions you have, no matter how stupid or obvious they are with full genuity. Him being the Conqueror of Demons and you being the Creator, you both live busy lives…. so his eyes literally light up when you two are both able to finally see each other after a long time. <3 (he’s head over heels guys help.)

The adepti would be so PROUD. They probably already knew you and Xiao had a little something going on even before it was announced because of the way Xiao seemed slightly more happy. This lead to then being suspicious and eventually seeing him and you together… doing the most intimate thing ever…..

…. HOLDING HANDS. UNDER THE MOONLIGHT. But they kept quiet so don’t worry!

─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─

“Xiao! I found you.”

As per usual, Xiao was sitting on the roof of Wangshu Inn. Today was one of the days where both of you were busy. You had a meeting to attend, and he was doing his job as The Conqueror of Demons. It was night by the time you were able to see each other.

“You should’ve called my name, Your Grace. It would’ve been easier for me to find you.”

“Yeah but I like looking for you. I always know where you are since you’re in the same spots anyway. And besides, I like how Wangshu Inn looks at night!”

You always thought Xiao looked pretty, but he looked especially pretty under the moonlight. His face seemed to glow more than usual today. Maybe it was the warm colored light radiating from inside of Wangshu Inn, or the light reflected by the moon shining down on him. Maybe it was the fact he had missed you so much that seeing your face again brought him a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Your Grace?”

“Oh, sorry Xiao, I lost my train of thought. Let’s go eat! I’m feeling hungry… today’s meeting was waaayy too long… C’mon, I’ll buy you something!”

“No need. I’ll be okay with just accompanying Your Grace.”

“Agh, stop calling me that. Y/N? Can you say Y/N? Please Xiao?”

“… Y-Y/N..”

“See? Not too hard right? Ok let’s go eat! I’ll make you Almond Tofu how you like it.”

FINALLY DONE OOHMYGODDD sorry this took so long. Idk what I should do next so feel free to request anything… ANYWAYS THE FIRST PART OF THIS GOT ALMOST 700 NOTES??? omg stop guys I’m giggling and blushing aughshsgghh. But seriously thank you so much I’m bawling

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ kudos and enemies to lovers

type of post: fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, this is ooc I just thought it was funny, rook writing rpf is morally questionable I KNOW. he's a freak author's note: the fanfiction site is made up

"completely ooc. vil would never say this"

Rook Hunt has been staring at the anonymous comment for hours.

He's come back to it five times, taking breaks only to rest his eyes when the harsh glare of the computer screen becomes too much.

It's not so uncommon for him to fall for so little; in just seven words, this anonymous hate had captured his full attention like a rabbit in a snare.

His gloved finger brushes over the enter key.

What to say? How could he possibly express himself in only a few hundred characters, in the comment section under a fanfiction of fifty thousand?

How he wishes they commented from an account... not only could he DM them, he may also have some idea of who they are. What sort of person would know Vil Schoenheit better than him?

No one. That's who.

"Dear Reader: I am sorry to hear you did not like my writing. However, I am inclined to believe I know Vil Schoenheit a modest amount better than you. Merci. -R"

Rook smiles. Eloquent, graceful, but firm. A gentleman like him would never start a fight.

Only finish it.

His curiosity finally put to rest, he responds to the other comments, thanking his usual commenters in detail.

When he scrolls back up to the top, there's something new:

"I sincerely doubt that. and fyi, you couldn't beg vil to be friends with neige"

Ohoho. Those are fighting words, he thinks. A smile creeps across Rook. Well, if it's a fight they want...

"Dear Reader: You doubt it? And how so? -R"

He refreshes the page again and again, hoping for an answer each time. This is the most stimulation he's had all week.

Now, who could this mysterious commentor be? A jealous fan, perhaps? A bitter critic?

Then:

"I was sitting next to him not two hours ago and he'd never say that"

Rook's smile widens. Of course. He should have guessed. The typing quirks, the misspelled words, even the voice in which each comment is written...

Now, he has you right where he wants you.

"Naughty naughty, Prefect. Does our Roi du Poison know you frequent the Vil Schoenheit x reader tag? or have you been keeping secrets again~?"

This time, he doesn't refresh. He knows you won't respond. Rook gets up from his desk and leaves his dorm, knowing just where to find you at this hour, and...

"Bonsoir, Trickster," he lets himself in your room.

As expected, there you are, looking beautifully flustered and vulnerable with your Crowley-approved phone in hand.

His smile sharpens. "Beautiful night, non?"

"I can explain,"

"Ah-ah," he tuts, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Do not be ashamed. I'm not a tattletale... not when I don't have to be."

His voice has a dangerous edge to it, and you give him a suspicious look. "What do you want?"

Rook lets the silence drag on, making you more and more impatient, more nervous, as if he were about to ask for something dangerous.

"Rescind your comments and leave a kudos on my work,"

You blink.

"...That's it?"

"Oui," he says. "...Unless you had something else in mind?"

You sigh. Now it's your turn to drag out the silence.

"...Let me edit your next fic,"

And, subsequently, it's Rook's turn to be surprised. He hadn't been expecting that. How... bold.

He smiles.

"...Ah... a tempting offer, I admit. I am working on something new. Perhaps we should discuss it over dinner?"

You think... and then: "I'm free Friday,"

"Then Friday it will be," Rook says, standing from your bed.

"Until then, mon petit critique~"

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

What if the reader was the child of the creator and had these gorgeous horns until one day, they were being looked after by Raiden, Venti, Nahida, Zhongli and they hear this mixed sounds of rocks breaking and bone snapping suddenly appearing and reader's large and gorgeous horns is suddenly not attached and in their hands while blood drips from their head. Apparently their horns were feeling pretty wobbly and they wanted to pull them to get rid of the feeling because it felt annoying.

PS: this is normal for this to happen, it's like pulling a tooth and a new one grows back.

How would they react to the graces child's horns no longer attached to their head.

OOOHH BOY, ARCHONS BUCKLE YOUR SEATBELTS, YOUR BABYSITTING CAREERS ARE ABOUT TO BE SHOOT THROUGH A BIG ROLLERCOASTER!

Honestly cannot blame them for panicking though—I would honestly do the same if I were in that position—

(Disclaimers: Might be OOC!)

Raiden Ei

The moment she sees the Almighty Creator's child's head bleeding, she is already scolding herself greatly for not being able to protect a child.

And then she sees the horns. That's when her panic begins to really spike up. That is—until she remembers Mikoshi Chiyo—her dear oni friend of bygone times—mention something about how some animals shed their horns during certain times of the year. And how her children have their teeth fall out when they were younger but we don't talk about that-

"Your Younger Grace, let us clean this all up before it becomes more of a mess." She tries to soften her voice towards you, knowing that she is dealing with a) a child and b) the literal descendant of the Almighty Creator. She does not dare to try and be cruel to the child who's parent can literally strike her down faster than lightning and time itself.

She's not exactly the most open nowadays, but she would still try to make herself as approachable as possible, if you two weren't close before.

If you two were? Well, that makes it a lot easier—her concern is easily detected and she's already cleaning up the blood and taking your previous horns somewhere else (probably a place where nobody would begin to panic just at the sight of it).

She won't even speak a single word about this incident after it's over. Ei does not want to look back at this memory and remember just how much of a heart attack she just gained by staring at the Divine One's child.

Venti

This man, hands down, will panic for a good few hours. Probably won't think straight as he thinks he's failed the Almighty Creator.

"Your Younger Grace, quick—let's get that cleaned up now!" Man would probably also yeet your horns away (gently) so that he never has to see it again. Venti is 100% traumatized again.

Would keep an eye on you whenever you touch your head now—this guy is making sure you never repeat the same thing again.

It won't be 'till a LONGG time before he realizes it's like a deer with your horns—but still, it's still pretty traumatic for our wisp boi, let's be hoenst—

Nahida

She would naturally be very upset that you would hurt yourself. However, she's not as panicked—she compares this situation like a deer. Or, actually—she hypothesizes.

Nevertheless, Nahida is still pretty upset you have to bleed because of this. She never wants to see you hurt, ever!

"Your Younger Grace, please let one of my people tend to your head..." She would call in her best medics from her nation to make sure your bleeding stops, before she deals with the horns that you practically tore off.

She will admit, it was very strange to hold the pieces of the Almighty Creator's child's horns as if they were collectible items. So, for the time being, she'll just keep them in a wrapped cloth to hide them.

Every time you do this, Nahida is now extra prepared for your "horn regrowth," as she calls it.

Zhongli

Dude is honestly the least surprised out of them all. I mean—can you blame him? He legit has seen it happen—remember what animal Moon Carver is? Yeah, that's right: a deer. Man's seen the guy shed antlers all the time, honestly.

But what he didn't expect is that you would actually bleed from pulling your horns off. That's what gets this grandpa of an Archon moving.

"Your Grace, allow me to tend to your injuries." Would treat it so seriously you think you were actually injured—you're just sitting there trying to recall how you might have hurt yourself until you realize Zhongli was talking about the horns you pulled off.

Pretty calm about the horns, honestly. Like I said, he's probably seen it one too many times. He'll probably ask the Almighty Creator themself of what he should do with them.

Would also probably educate the other archons so that they could stop having an absolute panic attack each time you decide to make your head bleed (cough looking at you, Venti cough).

And that's it! Everyone's except Ei's is short, but I do hope you like it! See you all around :)

Ghost Rebel Side Note: Yes, I did do some research with Ei's part—mainly because I don't really know how exactly she would react to a situation like this. I'm taking in terms with the fact that she is also mentally arguing/dealing with the Puppet Shogun, so there is some sort of rationalism behind her actions because of this. And, no, I don't believe Oni are able to shed off their horns, so I just made one of Ei's friends mention something about re-growing horns/teeth lol-

Check the Ghost Rebel's Blog Description to See if Their Mailbox is Open!

[togenabi]

the language of flowers

gojo satoru x reader (royalty au)

♡—All your life, you have been training for the role of Empress... But nothing could have prepared you to be Satoru's wife.

word count♡— 4.7k (I came back swinging y'all)

genre♡— fluff, royalty au

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— arranged marriage, romance, crown prince (maybe ooc) gojo, flowers, no use of y/n, afab!reader, ur a princess we're all princesses, minor chara oc's, mentions of my other au's, reader's father is a jerk, reader is tough but falls hard, not fully proofread

author's note♡— this took a while! september was ridiculously busy for me but I did my best with this to compensate! this is also very self indulgent, but I hope you enjoy it! xoxo, belle

As a child, you found out of your engagement to the Crown Prince by accident.

On a chilly winter's evening, you had been chasing the Royal Secretary's cat around the palace. Your father, the King, would frown upon you playing games at this hour. You should be writing essays, learning dance or banquet etiquette.

But all that can wait, you think. You've just spotted the end of a fluffy tail dart around the next corner.

When you catch up to it, the orange tabby is curiously peering into a room—whose grand double doors are slightly ajar. Eyes widening, you quicken your steps but make sure to minimize any sound. The last thing you needed was to be spotted skirting your duties right in front of the King's study.

You let out a huff of relief once you've gently picked up the cat, your arms hugging it to your chest.

Just as you're about to sneak away, however, you hear your name.

From the gap in the door, streams of golden light pour out; contrasting with the darkness of the hallway. The silhouettes of your father and his Secretary leave shadowed patterns on the floor.

You listen, as these silhouettes plan your future without you.

“Ha!” The King bellows. “My daughter. Empress. I never thought I'd see the day.”

Your heart stutters. What?

“When will you inform her, Your Majesty?”

The shadow on the painted tiles waves a hand dismissively as your father does.

“I'll leave that to you, Montgomery. Tell her that she should be honored.”

Heavy footsteps sound as he paces. “It was concerning to have a daughter as a firstborn. I knew she couldn't be made to rule what I've built, but I'll finally have a steady pawn in The Empire once she's sent away.”

Pain shoots into you. Your eyes begin to sting. You had always known your brother was the favorite despite all the hard work you've put in, but to be spoken of as a pawn... Could it be that you have not worked hard enough?

You suddenly remember where you are. Remember how slacking off brought you here. Heartbroken, you hug the cat tighter.

The words your father speak as you walk away deepens the dagger in your chest.

“Do not settle for anything less than perfect for her coursework. She's to be Empress, after all.”

On that chilly winter's evening, your heart froze over like the snow-covered branches looming outside.

...

Several years later.

The carriage goes over a bump in the road, but you do not show discomfort or act without grace. Your expression is controlled and your posture is correct as you balance yourself.

Across from you, Secretary Mont holds a newspaper up, the front page faces you as he reads. Large bold letters take up the entire upper half of the paper:

‘CITIZENS QUESTION IF EMPRESS-TO-BE IS WORTHY OF THE CROWN PRINCE’

You scoff. It makes Mont meet your gaze over the paper before flipping it; he frowns disapprovingly at the front-most article.

“Do not mind them, Your Highness.” He folds the paper and sets it aside—as if it would help prove his point. “The people are not used to your presence yet, but they will be. They will see how you are the perfect choice for Empress.”

The Princess is power hungry, someone who was interviewed had said. You wanted the Empire for yourself, apparently.

Jealous. Vain. Possessive. Dramatic.

Shifting your gaze to the window, you contemplate what you had done to garner such a negative image. Could you have done anything differently?

Your father's face appears in your mind's eye. That same ever-present scowl on his face as he says you should do better. You should be grateful. You should be nothing less than what you've been preparing all these years for. Everything must be perfect.

The Imperial Palace comes into view. It stands high and grand, shining under the bright midday sun. The cloudless blue sky above it makes the scene picturesque.

After the wedding in four months, it is to be your new home.

The Imperial Princess, your betrothed's younger sister, greets you when you arrive. You curtsy to each other, and she surprises you by reaching out to take your hands in hers. She gives them a firm yet friendly squeeze.

“I'm pleased to welcome you, my sister-to-be.” She beams, and you return the look with your own small, composed smile.

“I am honored to be here. Thank you for taking the time to receive me personally.” You gently lower your hands, letting her go.

She leads you inside, passing lines of palace staff as you enter.

“Congratulations on your own engagement, by the way.” You say honestly. After assessing her for a moment, you carefully remark, “I hear you and Prince Toge are quite happy.”

“We are.” She nods, smile glowing even more at the mention of her beloved. “Please allow me to say that I hope you and my brother find your own happiness, despite the ‘political arrangement’ of it all.”

“I thank you for your well-wishes.”

“Would you like an escort to your chambers?” The Princess offers once you reach a grand curving staircase.

“If you have other duties, I will not keep you.” You give her a bow, the ends of your dress brushing the polished marble flooring.

“Very well.” She nods. “A servant will inform you when dinner is ready.”

Gathering your skirt, you make your way up the steps to the east wing, where the guest chambers are.

Your eyes find the path to the west wing, where the royal families' rooms can be found. Soon enough, you would be heading there instead of east. Hopefully, the Prince will be amicable to live with.

The chambers reserved for you are exactly how you remember them. It's spotless and feels homey despite you only visiting a few times a year.

This is the only place you can be truly alone. Your father, try as he might, has no power here.

You step towards the balcony, opening the glass doors that lead outside. The wind caresses your skin like a soft kiss to your cheek, and you take a deep breath to savor it.

Four months.

That's all you have left. Four months of freedom here.

Another breeze passes. It carries with it a tiny dandelion wisp. Catching it almost feels like holding onto air, and yet it is there between your fingers. Small and weighing nothing, but there nonetheless.

For such a small thing, it strengthens your resolve.

You're not here for freedom. You're here to be Empress. And that's all that matters. You will not let anything get under your skin and interfere with your responsibilities.

...

So you said, only to find yourself in a very unexpected situation.

Dinner was uneventful, your only gripe was that your betrothed was not present. You had hoped to show everyone that you got along well... Even if you've only really spoken a handful of times.

However, once you returned to your chambers, you spot the balcony door open once more. Beyond it, looking out at the view of the city, was the Crown Prince himself.

You try not to let your unpreparedness get to you. Bowing respectfully, you greet him. “Good evening, Your Highness. May I ask what brings you here?”

The Prince turns to you, crossing one ankle over the other as he casually leans on the balcony.

“There you are.” Satoru says, his head tilting as he observes you.

You eye him warily, trying to decipher his intentions. If he wanted to see you, he could have simply shown up to dinner. “What are you doing?”

He steps forward. You step back. “Is it a crime to want time alone with my—”

Sighing, you should have expected him to want more time with the future—

“—wife?”

The word knocks the wind out of you.

Of all the names you have been called, ‘wife’ is a new addition to the list.

You are your parents' daughter, your country's princess, and are to be the Empire's most powerful woman.

And yet, to one person... to Satoru, you are to be his wife.

It's almost strange to think about. Your earliest memory of your betrothed is back when he was small and scrawny. It was difficult to take him seriously back then.

Now, something has changed in him. Or it could also be that he's always been like this, and this is a side to him he doesn't show to others that often.

Satoru watches you process the word, seeming to have something to say, but decides against it. You half expected him to tease you for being flabbergasted, but he patiently waits for you to speak first.

“Why are you here at this hour?”

He grins, eyes bringing shame to those distant stars hanging in the sky behind him.

“I didn't want our first meeting in ages to have so many spectators." Satoru explains. “If I had shown up earlier, the scribes would have taken note of how many times I blinked or how fast I chewed."

His jesting does not put you at ease at all. “I have a feeling you have something to say that should not be recorded or overheard.”

“That's true. However,” Satoru says pointedly, “The hour is far too late for all that I wish to say, so I will simply bid you goodnight with this...”

Out of nowhere, he pulls out a red flower with curling petals.

You keep your eyes on his as you reach for the flower's stem. Satoru watches you back, smiling softly. He's backing away before you can thank him, but he doesn't look like he minds. He seems to be happy you didn't reject it.

“Goodnight, my dear.” He bows, and makes his exit.

...Through the balcony. Again.

You step out and try to find where he disappeared to, but he's gone.

The moonlight out here allows you to get a better look at the flower. How curious. Usually, people in the Empire give roses, don't they?

The red carnation twirls between your fingers, and you think of how much more grand and tangible it is compared to the dandelion wisp that found you before dinner.

...

Carnations mean many different things, according to this book on the language of flowers you picked up. It all depends on the color.

Pink carnations symbolize fondness and remembrance. Some also consider it to mean not being able to forget someone.

White carnations mean purity, good luck, and new beginnings. It's a common way of wishing someone safe travels.

Yellow carnations have varying meanings. Sometimes, they are used for apologies. But most often they are given to express disdain, symbolizing a hopeless state of mind. You stare at the illustration next to the passage. The yellow watercolor is so bright and vibrant, it makes you wonder what it did to deserve such sad connotations.

Setting the book down for a moment, you rest your eyes by scanning the library. Countless shelves with even more countless books. A golden candlestick here. A priceless painting there. A stack of yesterday's newspaper lying a few tables away.

Something unpleasant settles in your chest. You ignore it and resume reading.

Naturally, as is the case for most red flowers, the red carnation means love. True, passionate love and affection.

You shut the book softly, tracing the embossed petals on the cover while thinking of the red carnation sitting on your bedside table.

Things could have gone worse, you suppose. At least Satoru didn't give you a striped carnation, which has no other meaning than rejection.

Secretary Mont enters the library before you could dwell more on that thought. He's arrived with several palace staff for additional wedding plans.

“Your Highness,” Only Mont greets you, but they all bow in unison.

You nod, and gesture to the table. “Be seated. Let's begin with the urgent concerns first.”

Apparently, the most urgent problem was that Satoru had not approved any of the table dressing color schemes. When you review the options, you think you can assume why. There can only be so many shades of white and cream and pearl.

“What shall we do, Your Highness?” One of the butlers ask.

“Give me a few samples, I'll talk to the Crown Prince myself.”

You almost regret saying that, because once you did, several staff began tripping over themselves, requesting you bring up other preparations with Satoru.

Secretary Mont asks if he should schedule an appointment with your betrothed, but you decline. Something tells you that he will show up again tonight.

And so, here you were after dinner in your chambers. A box of wedding planning materials rests next to you on the bed. You left the balcony doors open this time, and he shows up just as you predicted.

“Aw, were you expecting me?” He's smiling at you as he approaches, but it falters once he sees the box.

He lets out a loud breath before settling on your bed too, the box sits between you. “Alright, let's do this.”

“Start with these.” You hand him some fabric swatches, he looks at them in disdain.

“Pearl, then.” He says, barely even looking through all the options.

“Don't decide hastily.” You can't help but reprimand. “It's not just the color you have to consider, but the material as well.”

Satoru blinks, but presses his fingers to feel the texture of the fabric at your suggestion. “Is pearl not good then?”

“It's pretty, but it's too shiny.” You explain. “The sheen doesn't make it soft or comfortable to use.”

“Ah.” He breathes out, understanding what you mean.

You tell yourself your heart doesn't beat louder when he picks the one you had your eye on. Satoru holds the sample fabric up, the label attached reads ‘Snow’.

A clean, classic sort of white. Soft to the touch, almost fluffy. You don't have to tell him that you agree, he can already guess from the way you glance at him.

He doesn't need to know that your eyes strayed to his hair. Soft. Fluffy.

Clearing your throat, you change the subject by bringing out some tableware samples. “Shall we discuss these, next?”

An hour and thirty kinds of invitation cards later, a short break is due. You're writing down your decisions when Satoru calls your name.

You've moved to your desk by now, since your bed has become some sort of wedding moodboard. Something clinking together reaches your ears, and you turn to find that Satoru had tea brought up. He pours you a cup and carefully hands it to you.

“Thank you.” You respond gratefully, taking a sip before turning back to the lists in front of you.

“Aren't you tired?” Satoru asks, reading your writing over your shoulder.

“This is actually quite easy for me.” You admit. “Wedding planning is unexpectedly... Pleasant.”

Satoru laughs softly. “You're probably the only one in this palace who thinks it's pleasant to work with me.”

After a moment, he continues. “I suppose... That's a good thing, if we're to be wed.”

His words make you pause writing. You suddenly feel shy, warmth spreading on your cheeks. The kind you're sure isn't from the flame crackling in the fireplace.

How silly that you're becoming bashful after being engaged to him since you were children. The thundering of your heart can wait.

“I agree.” You respond, not turning to face him. You will not allow him to see you uncomposed like you did the previous night. “I wasn't sure what to expect from our marriage, but I would appreciate it if we were companionable.”

The rest of the evening proceeds smoothly, though you do notice Satoru becoming more silent as the night goes on.

The next day, you spot Satoru speaking to foreign delegates. Something is different in the way he carries himself in front of them. His posture is that of a proper Emperor, not a cheeky prince that sneaks into your room at night.

... It's probably best that no one finds out about that, lest a scandal breaks before you even get married.

When the delegates leave, you're about to approach and greet Satoru when he, unmistakably meets your eyes, then walks in the opposite direction.

You're left there, confused and perhaps even a little hurt. But you stone your expression and carry on as if nothing has happened. Your lessons taught you to be graceful, even in times you feel anything but.

By late afternoon, it's painfully obvious that Satoru is ignoring you. When he rushes through his lunch and gets up right when you take your seat, you try your best to look unaffected.

Hopefully, you're the only one who's noticed so far. If word reaches Secretary Mont, word will reach your father... That troubles you more than you can put to words.

Satoru doesn't show up for your scheduled wedding planning session with the rest of the staff. You're careful not to say that you'll speak with your betrothed, and thankfully no one mentions it even if it shows they wish you did. You're not even sure if he'll show up at your balcony tonight.

When the hour turns ten, the time he's usually here, he isn't. You sigh and can't help feeling a little disappointed.

Perhaps you said something wrong last night. Maybe you should apologize for something. Or he could just be busy, you tell yourself. You can't expect the Crown Prince to always have time to sneak away to you, can't you?

Something taps against the glass of the balcony doors. It breaks your train of thought, and causes your heart to leap just a bit.

But when you go to check, no one's there. You open the doors to find a single red carnation, just like the one he gave the first night.

You're only barely successful at hiding your relief. You reach for it and glance around once more, just to make sure if he left any other trace of him. There are none, but after you lock the doors and turn in for the night, two carnations in a glass vase calm you in a way you hadn't let yourself feel in a long time.

...

A maid knocks at your door a tad earlier than you're used to. When you ask about what's going on, she says she has to prepare you for the Crown Prince's departure.

“He's leaving?” You ask as you rise from bed, already headed for the bathroom to clean up.

“Yes, Your Highness.” She sifts through your wardrobe for your clothes. “He is to go on a business trip to settle trade agreements.”

“How long will he be gone for?”

“I cannot say for certain, Your Highness.”

Pausing in thought, you look to the balcony doors.

A rush of determination fills you as you ask the maid, “Could you prepare something for me?”

The head butler said that he could be gone for two or three weeks. Weeks before you see that face of his, which has a surprisingly forlorn expression on it.

“Thank you for seeing me off.” Satoru acknowledges you with a smile, but his eyes reveal how tired and troubled he truly is.

You say nothing at first, silently taking steps closer to him. You could practically feel the air freeze over as everyone watching holds their breath. This is the closest the two of you have appeared in public.

You reveal a white carnation held in the hand you hid behind you. The stem is cut short, just enough so that it fits into the pocket on his coat.

“I will take care of things here while you're gone.” You assure him, taking a step back to admire how the white flower suits him.

Satoru seems to be at a loss for words, but his eyes regain their usual spark when he addresses you again. “It seems I have nothing to worry about, then.”

You feel stares at your back as the carriage departs, but pay them no mind. You intend to keep your word and perform your duties while the prince is gone.

On your way to the library, you overhear the Imperial Princess and Sir Nanami speaking to each other.

They're in the next hallway, and you were just about to turn to it when you hear your name spoken. You press your back to the wall and listen.

“I'm glad Her Highness seems to have liked my brother.” The princess says. “And of course, I know Satoru would have been over the moon because of that flower.”

Sir Nanami hums. “His concerns were nothing to be worried about after all.”

The princess laughs. “Oh, what was it again that he said? That she friendzoned him?”

“It was that she companion-zoned him.”

You huff quietly. So that's why Satoru had been ignoring you yesterday.

“I look forward to their blooming relationship. I'm sure Her Highness will come around.” Is the last you hear of their conversation as they continue on their way, their footsteps fading further into the hall.

Come around? To what?

A grandfather clock chimes to signal the change of the hour, and you realize you've dilly-dallied for long enough. The rest of your way to the library has no people whispering about you and your betrothed or the flower you sent him off with.

But you would be lying if you said you'd forgotten about what the princess said.

...

Ever since Satoru left, he's been writing you letters. He said his sister gave him the idea.

You've given up on replying on every letter he sends. It seems as though he writes to you daily, and you simply can't keep up. He insists on writing no matter how busy he gets.

His fifth letter is so short that it should be called a note:

‘The flowers here are lovely. I had a bookmark made for you.’

That same bookmark, a dried pink carnation, sits between the pages of the novel you're currently reading. It makes you consider pressing the red carnations Satoru had given you so that they're not just left to wilt.

You write back once a week. But what you lack in quantity of letters you make up with the number of pages you write, and you tell Satoru as such. There are many things you want to report, so you don't hold back on anything.

Well, perhaps you don't quite tell him that you can't fall asleep until you spot the moon through the balcony glass. Or that you think of him whenever you're not distracted enough.

In Satoru's fifteenth letter, he brings the unfortunate news that his return will be delayed. He will have been gone for four weeks before he comes home, and the journey back will take three days at the latest.

Unable to express your disappointment outright, you instead imply that he should make haste for the wedding preparations. That he shouldn't miss the food tasting or the floral arrangements.

‘I trust my wife to make all the right decisions. Even if you don't, I'll consider them right anyway.’

There he goes again, calling you wife when you haven't married yet. It also dawns on you that Satoru has only ever called you by name, or addressed you as his wife. He's probably the only person who hasn't referred to you as Empress-to-be.

You're quickly learning that with Satoru, you're finding yourself again. It's rare for you to feel more than just a princess or Empress in training, but he makes it effortless with just a few words.

...

You begin counting down the days when Satoru writes that trade negotiations have finally concluded. He should be home in four days, and you can hardly wait to see his face again.

But of course, Satoru finds a way to bewilder you by arriving home early. In the middle of the night, no less. And naturally, through the balcony.

Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you try to decipher if his visage is a dream or a trick or the light. But when he laughs, and tells you he missed you dearly, you need no further proof.

Satoru clasps your hands with his, running his thumbs over your fingers and knuckles. Your eyes travel down to his boots, which are filthy with dirt and grass. His hair is ruffled and windswept.

“Did you,” The word settles on your tongue when you pause. “...Rush here on horseback?” You ask incredulously.

Satoru laughs again, and wraps his arms around you. “Are you complaining?”

You blink, and tentatively wrap your arms around his middle. “No. I'm glad you're home.”

Satoru is so warm compared to the night air that surrounds you. You almost complain when he pulls back, but the serious look in his eye makes you keep your mouth shut.

He clears his throat and rubs your shoulders before taking your hands again. You're completely shocked when he sinks to one knee.

“I know that we're already engaged.” Satoru begins. “I know that we've been preparing for this for years, but I just wanted to ask you properly. Because you deserve it.”

He pulls out a ring, a diamond shines at its center.

“Marry me, and I shall spend every moment of my life proving my love for you.”

“Yes. I will.” You respond, and he slips the ring onto your finger. How does he keep getting more and more lovely?

You place your hands on the sides of his face, pulling him up to you. You kiss him, and the air ignites like a spark brought to life.

It's tender, and careful, and carries all the things you wish to say to him. How you missed him. How you love the flowers he gives you. How excited you are to have him by your side for forever.

When you break apart, he seems surprised to find you reflecting his happiness back at him. He's about to speak, but not before he can resist the urge to kisses you again.

You smile into the kiss, but place a hand on his chest, pushing him to ask, “You were about to say?”

“...I've always known I would treat you right when we got engaged. That was always a given.” Satoru cradles your face gently, making you feel like the most precious in the world to him. “You were chosen because you're smart, and you worked harder than anyone else.”

“...But I saw you one day, when we were kids.” He speaks carefully. “You were trying your best to impress your father, but not at all happy...”

“From then on, I decided to make it my mission to make you smile.” To prove his point, he places his thumbs at the corners of your mouth to drag them up playfully. You laugh and swat his hands away.

“A real smile, just like that! None of those diplomatic half-smiles you always throw out to please people. That won't work on me.”

“Before you are the Empress, you are my wife. And I will love and treasure you as such.”

...

He says those same words at the wedding. You jest that he has no originality, but it brings you to tears just the same.

The wedding happens in the palace gardens, surrounded by countless beautiful flowers that dance and sway under the sun when the wind blows. Everything is, in every sense of the word, perfect.

For this moment, you are not the Empress. Not yet. The world can wait a day, you decide. Everything else can wait while you bask in the glowing warmth this man offers you.

As you leave the ceremony behind with your arms linked together, Satoru leans into your ear so you can hear him over the cheering crowd. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Petals shower you both on your way, and you can't help but smile. “Just that we're perfect together.”

Satoru laughs in agreement. “Damn right we are.”

Several staff are positioned at the exit of the gardens, ready to escort you both to the carriages that will take you through the Empire to greet your subjects... But something makes you pause at the end of the aisle.

You pluck a red carnation from one of the floral displays before turning to your husband. You tuck the flower into the chest pocket of his suit, snug in front of his pocket square.

When you glance up to see his reaction, he's already beaming at you, looking indescribably happy.

“I love you too.” He says, taking your hand and pressing the softest of kisses on top of your wedding ring.

When you sent him away back then, you remember thinking how the white carnation matched well with him. Looking at him now, however, the red flower over his heart seems to overflow with all the love and all the words that need not be spoken. You like this one much better.

He leans down to pluck another identical flower, and gently tucks it behind your ear.

Satisfied, he holds your hand tight, leading you to the rest of your lives with the assurance that he will never let go.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added or removed from my taglist

taglist♡— @flowerjun @mellozhi

[ssparksflyy]

helllo can you do just a fluffy jason grace x reader athena that wanted to make her crush fly please something simple thank you;)

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

levitating ✶⋆.˚

pairing: jason grace x daughter of athena!reader warning(s): lowkey ooc jason word count: 810 a/n: ty for requesting! heres somethin short n simple for ya ♡♡

when asked to fly by other campers, jason usually had no problem with it. if they asked him to do it for help, he'd quickly do it, happy to help them. if they just wanted to see him fly, he'd float just a few inches off the ground and even pick the kid up if they wanted to. he usually was happy to fly for other campers.

usually.

you'd made a bet with him. you bet that you could somehow trick him into flying without being asked. being a child of athena, who was pretty good at coming up with plans, you felt pretty confident in yourself. but jason also felt confident in himself. learning how to say 'no' was something jason had gotten used to lately, and he believed that he would be able to avoid any tactic you used to get him to fly.

the rules were simple. you try to make jason float, he tries not to. if he flies in front of you, because somebody else asked him to, it doesn't count. if he flies in front of you for any reason that doesn't involve you asking or doing anything to make him fly, it doesn't count. you also weren't allowed to say that something dangerous was happening, cause, that just wasn't fair.

it was wednesday when you'd made the bet. you had until friday afternoon to make jason fly.

honestly, you hadn't thought it would be as hard as it was. a part of you hoped jason would fall for something simple, but he was surprisingly good at avoiding your attempts to make him fly. you tried things like throwing something at him super high, so he'd have to fly up and get it, but he simply just let it fall to the floor. you tried putting unavoidable things in his way, but that's when you found out jason was a great jumper and was up to taking a longer route (freak).

you even tried pushing him off the rock climbing wall, but turns out he was also good at that too!! seeing him beating all of your attempts was only fueling you more ( and draining your brain ).

it was friday morning when you came up with an plan that jason was sure to fall for. you'd convinced a tree nymph to put your sword at the very top of her tall tree, and called jason over. yea it was kinda of desperate but hey, so were you.

once he walked over to the tree you pointed up at your sword, "got stuck."

he gave you the most deadpan look you'd ever seen, "literally how does that even happen?"

you shrugged, "can you help me?"

he rolled his eyes and just as he was about to fly up, he stopped. instead of doing the easy thing and flying up he walked over to the tree and started climbing.

"youre joking." you said, watching him climb up the tree.

holy shit hes got a fat ass

jason had somehow managed to climb up to the very top of the tree, grabbed your tree and climbed down, all without getting knocked down by the nymph. traitor.

he jumped down a few branches high, landing right in front of you.

"i believe this belongs to you, m'lady" he said, holding out you sword with a cocky smile.

you grabbed the sword for him, muttering a small "thank you"

"aw what's wrong? bird brain mad she couldn't trick me?" he said, moving closer to you, "better think of something quick cause your times running out."

you paused for a second, unsure of how to respond. your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, an idea suddenly crossing your mind.

you grabbed jason by the collar of his shirt and kissed him. when you pulled away, you looked down at the floor and smirked.

"i win" you whispered smugly, still holding onto his shirt.

"huh?" he asked, his voice cracking and cheeks flushing.

you let go of his shirt and took a step back, motioning your head towards the ground. jason looked down, confused. he was floating a mere inch off the ground.

"you start floating whenever you get surprised." you said, grinning.

"what?- i- huh???" he said, confused out of his mind, "wait- so that's what the kiss was for??"

"in the moment, yea. but ive also been waiting months for you to do it, so i thought i'd take matters into my own hands" you said, a smile slowly forming on your face.

"damn, months?? you should've told me" he said, smiling, "can i make it up to you?" he took a step closer to you and placed his hands on your hips.

a giggle escaped your lips as you slung your arms around his neck, "of course, sparky."

he closed the space between you with a sweet kiss.

a/n two: i was fr like 'huh i feel like ive seen sparky somewhere besides jason' its my url. bffr. n e wayz i hope u enjoyed this nd have a good day/night !!

peace from manhattan,

percy jackson ♡

[asterias-record-shop]

BINGOO! Can you please write a Miguel O’Hara sugar daddy story with prompt 15? I’m not creative enough to write a description for this but could you add a mention of the age gap? Miguel is Like 30 or something. Reader is young and wants money ofc. They met online and are meeting up irl. Thank youu

—𓆩[mi menté, cuerpo, corazón, y alma]𓆪—

I am so sorry anón honey, I got completely carried away!! I hope you enjoy it though!

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Modern AU! CEO! Sugar Daddy! Soft! Miguel O'Hara x Sugar Baby! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.1K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You loved being a sugar baby. Truly, you did. The only con was the fact that you had to get with someone who was literally a hair away from dying, so when Miguel found you, it was truly a saving grace. After a while, he made you cut off all of your other sugar daddies, easily matching what they give you and more. Things have gotten weird lately, though… and you’re not sure how to take it, even when he says everything is ‘strictly pleasure’.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing and foul language || obsessive behavior || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship || possessive! Miguel || his wife and daughter do not exist anymore 🤍 like at all || Latina coded reader || featuring Jessica Drew as another CEO because we love her (spider-verse variant) || sugar daddy & sugar baby relationship turned real relationship || i speak rancho spanish so i write rancho spanish, it ain’t google translate so it might not make sense- || miguel is lowkey an asshole so he is an asshole now || fighting || you make him fix himself || i’m ngl, i don’t know what the hell i did but i had fun and there’s smut so enjoy || this is so much more kinky than it initially was going to be- || kinda OOC Miguel || sub turned dom! reader || sub! Miguel || sounding || cbt || slight oral || praise & degradation || riding || non-protected sex || cumming inside || ending is supposed to be humorous I’m not weird ||

Finding a sugar daddy that wasn’t quadruple your age was hard. Very, very hard. What was wrong with men? Couldn’t they just become billionaires at twenty-five?

Bastards.

Oh, but then Miguel O’Hara came along. A man in his early thirties that absolutely towered over you at 6’9”, built like a fucking god with looks to match and wealth to pair.

In the beginning, though, you had your doubts, so many doubts. You didn’t know what made him drawn to you in the first place, mainly because you had over five sugar daddies and he easily matched the prices immediately and made you get rid of them. He easily matched all your prices, doing even more before purchasing a test to make sure you were ‘healthy’.

After that, everything else happened extremely quickly - him buying you a car, jewelry and clothes, but the most recent was having you move in with him in his extremely large mansion. The first thing you noticed was that he had nothing in his home that gave it personality. No pictures, just crazy expensive art and photographs of things that were also crazy expensive.

He didn’t even have plants. Or a dog. Or a cat, something to give him some sort of personality besides that stupidly hot face. And stupidly hot money, but that’s why he was at work while you were at a shelter, promising yourself that you’d take some sort of pet home. You had settled on a kitten, a tuxedo kitten with a little bow tie and a mustache, along with small little mittens on his paws.

He immediately curled in your lap, a giggle falling from your lips as you stroked the back of his head. “I’ll take this one… I’m gonna name him Hart.”

And with that, you took him home. You bought him his own bed and all of the toys he could ever want or need, and you sat in the closet you had made his room as you wagged the cat toy in front of him, Jessica on the phone.

“Y/N, I really think you’re going to kill him bringing that cat into his house!” She laughed, snacking on her latest craving.

“Oh, he won’t! You’re being overdramatic, he’s gonna love Hart,” you wiggle the stick some more, the kitten swatting at it as you heard Miguel’s loud voice yell out for you. “Oh! He’s here, I’ll call you later Jess! Love you!”

“Don’t get killed!”

You giggled as you hung up and quickly stood, running out and fixing your skirt. “Miguel!”

He was tired today, you could tell. His body was more tense than you had ever seen, the buttons at the top of his shirt undone and his tie loose with his blazer open. You paused, his clenched fists making you swallow slightly. You had your share of violent lovers, and you sure as hell weren’t going to have another.

“Hola, mi reina,” he whispered, voice hoarse as he set down his briefcase and his fists unclenched. He softly set his hand on your hip, kissing softly against your temple as he sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s been a tough day.”

You inhaled as he softly pressed kisses down your temple around your eye, along the apple of your cheek. “Wh-What happened?”

He shook his head, his hands going from your hips to the pretty skin of your thighs that was exposed by the skirt. “Stupid idiots who don’t know how to fucking do their job.”

You hummed softly as you stroked the back of his head, twirling the locks of his hair with your fingers as you kissed his sharp jaw. You were already on your tiptoes, his hands supporting you as he ducked down. “I’m so sorry, Miguel,” you whispered as he let out a soft hum. “I uhm… I got something.”

“Ah si?” he responded, his hands slipping under your skirt to tease your pretty cunt. “Es esto, mi reina?”

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “Lemme show you.”

He smiled as you dragged him along, pulling him toward the closet you turned into the kitten’s room before turning around. “You can’t get mad.”

He started to cross his arms, raising a brow. “Why would I get mad?”

“You won’t be mad because you can’t. That’s my whole point,” you say, nodding firmly. “Okay?”

“You can’t say I can’t get mad and expect me not to get mad.”

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, shaking your head as he hummed softly and leaned down. “Just… trust me.”

He hummed again as you opened the door, the loud mews of the kitten making his eyes widen. You felt your smile disappear as you inhaled, shaking your head as you turned around. “This is Hart! He’s a little spy,” you giggled, kissing the kitten’s small head. “H-He was named after-”

“I know who he’s named after, Y/N,” Miguel growled, glaring at the kitten in your hand. “Why is it in my house?”

“Our house,” you correct him, a scoff falling from his lips. “What?”

“My house,” he basically growled, stepping forward as you started to step back. “Just because I fuck you like a ragdoll and cum inside of you like a cumdump doesn’t mean that this is your house.”

You inhaled as you held the kitten closer to your chest, scoffing. “You’re a fucking bastard, Miguel O’Hara. This is strictly business as always, isn’t it? You fucking asshole.”

He scoffed as you went around him, shaking his head. “This is mine, Y/N! All of it!”

“It might be yours, Miguel, but you don’t want it! You keep this giant house full of nothing that you love, nothing that you care for! You don’t even have a damn plant here!” You yelled at him, inhaling as you sent him a glare. “You’re a self absorbed bastard, Miguel.”

“I have you here,” Miguel spoke, something that completely betrayed his previous words. “You’re… all I could ever need.”

“You don’t need me though. The only thing that you fucking need is a damn whore,” you shake your head, keeping Hart close to your chest. “I will get myself a lawyer to get myself out of this contract, and we’ll never have to see each other again.”

“Y/N, wait-”

“No! Fuck you!” You were already rushing to your room - which was sadly one you shared with Miguel - locking it before he could come in after you.

“Y/N, amor… mi amor, I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not!” You yelled, sighing. How could you ever think this would go any other way? “Just… go away!”

To be honest, you weren’t sure what made you think you could love him. Actually love him and have it reciprocated, but you didn’t want to leave. You had worked so hard in this relationship with Miguel, gaining his trust and what you thought was his love, for fucks sake you couldn’t lose it now. What he said just… got to you.

It wasn’t until you heard a soft knock that you unlocked the door, Miguel slowly stepping into the room. “What do you want?”

“I just… look at this,” he gave you the binder, swallowing. “If you uhm… look at it, it annuls our last contract… if you sign it, mi amor-”

“What, are you gonna try and bribe me?” I ask, softly scratching Hart’s ear before he gives you the binder.

“Perdóname, amor,” he whispers, slowly falling to his knees in front of you. You certainly weren’t expecting this. “Read it.”

“Summarize it for me.”

“It says that you own me,” he says, tilting his head. “Everything I own, you own. Everything I am is yours,” he takes your hand, softly kissing against your wrist. “I’m sorry… that it took me so long to see how important you are to me. Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, y alma.”

You swallow as you stare at the dotted line, looking down at him as he kisses your skin. “Tu cuerpo? Es mío?”

He groaned as your hand shapes his jaw, softly tugging on his hair as Hart jumped down, sauntering out of the room as though he knew what was about to happen. “Todo es tuyo, mi amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his hair so he’d stare up at you. “Todo lo que quieras, es tuyo. Nomás me digas y es tuyo. Todo, todo es tuyo.”

You hummed, sighing as you moved your hips to come off the bed slightly. “Show me. Show me that you belong to me and I’ll sign it.”

He hummed, sending you a smile as he started to kiss against your wrist. “Of course, mi reina.”

You smile slightly as he starts to tug off his shirt, carefully unbuttoning and kissing along your calf before slipping off your heels. “If this keeps going, Miguel, you need to know that I’m not putting up with your bullshit.”

“Ya se, mi reina,” he whispers, his tongue flattening up your thigh as he pulls down your skirt. “I’m aware.”

“I’m going to sign that shit in your cum.”

He laughed, nodding. “If that’s what you want to do, mi amor.”

You tilted your head down at him, raising a brow. “That raises no red flags?”

“No, they’re actually green.”

You hold back a laugh as he slowly stands up, already taking off his clothes before you put up a finger. “I’m in charge, right?”

“Yes,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “What would you like me to do, hm?”

“Get on the bed,” you say, standing and slipping off your clothes. “Why are you just standing there? Go.”

Miguel smirked slightly, but followed your orders, his bare body looking perfect against the bed. “Well, what do you want me to do next, mi amor?”

You hummed, staring for another few minutes. “Get hard. I’ll be back.”

You go into your closet, but after hearing Miguel’s moans, you knew he listened to what you said. It wasn’t until you went into your drawer filled with sex toys did you know what you wanted to do - oh, you were going to make him sob. You grabbed the small silver toy you had never had the chance to use on him, biting your lip as you finished taking off the rest of your clothes and fixing your bra and underwear.

It was normal to makeup with Miguel with sex, then talk about what happened and why it should never happen again before you fell asleep, resulting in Miguel waking you up with breakfast in bed and another lavish apology gift.

When you walked out, you smiled when you saw Miguel bucking his hips into his hand, his thick cock dribbling precum out of his bright red tip. “Look how pretty your cock is, baby… so, so pretty.”

He lets out a dry laugh, groaning. “Oh yeah? Que vas hacer?”

You giggled, slowly sliding between his legs and taking out the metal sounding rod. “Voy a jugar con lo que es mío.”

He lets out a choked moan as the cold tip of the rod dragged in a circle along the tip of his cock, already lubed up so you wouldn’t hurt him, a giggle escaping your lips as you slowly pushed it into his cock. He lets out a choked moan as you laugh, watching as it slowly disappears inside of his cock.

“Hijo de su pinche madre,” he cursed, groaning as he bucked his hips, stomach clenching as you watched his body slowly fall to your mercy. “Amor, please, please- I'll be good, I just need to fuck you.”

“Cállate,” you ordered, giggling as you pushed it inside until the ring was showing, your mouth latching onto his balls and sucking softly. “Come on, be a good boy and fuck it.”

He cursed as he starts to roll his hips, following the sounding rod as he groaned loudly. One of your hands rubs along his thighs, giggling as you stared up at his face all scrunched and desperate. He really did make a good sub.

“Come on, don’t stop now, Miguel, you’re doing so good,” you move away from his balls but continue to cup them, moving so that his fat cock was settled on his abdomen and you rubbed your now bare pussy against his shaft. “Come on baby, I know you want to cum. As soon as you cum, I’ll put your cock in me and I’ll let you fuck me.”

He groaned loudly, almost growl-like sounds falling from his lips as he forced his hips to go faster, fucking into the sounding rod as he rubbed against your wet cunt. You couldn’t hold back your own moans, the friction of his cock perfect against your cunt and he wasn’t even inside of you yet.

“Amor, please, please!” He was begging to cum, even if he didn’t quite know it yet, a groan falling from your lips as you continued to squeeze and rub his balls. He had never been this quick to cum, and you knew you’d have to try this again soon. “I’m close, chingao, I’m close.”

You let out a laugh as you watch the sounding rod start to be pushed out, pushing it back in as he whined. “Not yet, amor mío.”

“Por favor, mi vida, necesito- fuck!” He screamed out as you continued to hump against his length, pushing and pulling the rod in and out of his cock.

“Say it again. That you’re mine.”

“Fuck, I’m yours! Soy tuyo, mi mente, cuerpo, corazón, y alma, ¡chingada madre!” He yelled out as you finally let go of the sounding rod, watching it pop out of his cock and a perfect, pornographic cumshot follow. You moved your hand from his balls, lifting your hips as you continued to pump his shaft. You watched as the pearlescent liquid spurts onto his toned abdomen, smiling before cupping your hand in front of his tip and gathering his cum.

He panted, watching as you slowly smeared it along your cunt and placed the sounding rod onto the nightstand. “Next time we need to go bigger.”

“Whatever you say, amor,” he whispers, groaning as you pull his cock to push into your cunt, another loud groan falling from his lips. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“I know,” you spoke, laughing slightly as you gasped. No matter how many times his cock was inside of you, you never got used to it. “Fuck, Miguel, It’s like you get bigger every time.”

“Maybe I do,” he smirked, offering that playful wording as you finally sat on his pelvis, groaning loudly. “Look at how perfect you look with my cock inside of you, mi reina. Fucking perfect.”

You whimpered, groaning as you started to roll your hips, his cock feeling as though it was deeper than it ever was. “N-No, no.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “No what, amor? Tell me.”

“Stop that,” you order, knowing damn well if he kept talking like that you’d soon be on your back begging for him to fuck you. That’s now how it was going to happen, not today. “I’m in charge. Not you.”

“I never said you weren’t, amor-”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips firmly to his as he held your hips, helping you rock onto his cock. “Stop talking.”

He laughs as his other hand pulled you in for another firm kiss, your hands searching for the contract before his hips slam up into you. You pulled away, gasping as he lets out a loud groan, cursing. “Thought you needed some help, mi amor.”

Your hands claw against his shoulders as he keeps your chest pressed to his, using his strength to easily thrust up into you. For fucks sake, he couldn’t even let you have this, but you weren’t complaining as he grunted underneath you and you felt his cock rub against every place you ever wanted him to be. He repeatedly thrusted into you at that perfect rate to hit that spot inside of you that just made your body go limp, stomach twisting and turning.

One of the pros of having a man who knew your body like the back of his hand was that you could always count on him making you cum.

You gasped as his cock finally thrusted against that perfect spot that easily made you come undone, mind blurring as you basically see stars right as your nails dig into his skin. Your cunt clenched and squeezed his cock as a result of your orgasm, a hissed groan falling from his lips as he thrusted a few more times and finally came inside of you.

Your eyes rolled back, the added feeling of his cum spurting inside of you, filling you up as your inner thighs started to register slight heat from the power of his thrusts. You panted as you started to sit up, Miguel letting out a slight laugh before you grabbed the sounding rod and the contract.

“Q-Qué estás haciendo?”

You looked up at him, giggling as you dipped the rod into his cum. “I said I was going to sign it with your cum.”

“Mierda, Y/N, don’t do that!”

“What?! You think I was joking?! I said it was a red flag!”

Thank all of you so much for supporting me!! Even though Bingo requests and Bingo itself is done, I have my next event already planned - please stay tuned!! Requests are closed but they will be open when I clear my inbox, and again, thank all of you so much!!

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© asterias-record-shop

[echoisbabe]

Tear in my heart

I had this idea from that scene from Black panther and this was born from that.

I think TW, for death? However! I hope that everyone that reads enjoys! My request are open

<also ooc Wolffe????>

He stands before you, blaster raised. Your hands are raised, eyes never leaving the familiar helmet of Wolffe.

“Wolffe” his name leaves your lips in a plea, his grip loosens on his blaster

For once you are not happy to see him, your heart beats faster as he steps towards you. You don’t know what to do, turn and run? He’d shot you in the back that you are sure of.

“You are a traitor” his grip tightens on his blaster

“You would kill me, my love?” His grip falters again, he steps towards you once more

You wonder if he remembers it all, if someone where in his mind the thought of you lingers.

“For the empire” he states as he squares his shoulders, a second blaster now in his free hand “Without question”

Horror flashes across your face as you take a step back. What can you do now? You had promised never to use the Jedi mind trick on him, promised not to use the force on him. You know times are different however you can’t bring yourself to do it.

“Do you remember?” You ask, raising a hand and he flinches subtly, you take a step forward “what we shared? Does that mean nothing now?”

It hangs in the air, he’s holstering one blaster. He closes the distance between you and him. His helmeted forehead meets yours. He’s breathing deeply, his arm wraps around you. He pulls you closer, and you allow him to give you this.

“Let me go, Wolffe” you whisper “don’t let my blood be on your hands” you reach up, hands hesitantly taking hold of his helmet

“I-I have my orders, Cyar’ika” he moves away, so as not to let you lift his helmet “there won’t be any pain, if I do it, I promise”

You wrap your arms around him, tears finally falling freely from your eyes. Your heart is breaking with each passing second, clinging to him but also wanting to run. You had spent months running from this moment. Spent months missing this feeling that’s slipping through your fingers.

“Please” you try again, hoping for a different answer “just let me go” your pulling away from him, and he lets you pull from his arms but doesn’t allow any more distance to separate you

In the distance you hear his men, voices that you don’t recognize. It’s now or never, breaking this promise would sting but it must be done. You raise your hand with the words stuck on your tongue.

“Commander!” A voice shouts, Wolffe turns as your eyes widen, the blaster bolt has been shot and there is nothing to be done, if you pull your hand from him now it would be him that is hit, so you shove him and the blaster hits you square in the chest.

You hear your name screamed out like a banshee. Your knees go weak and you stumble, you want to catch yourself but your muscles fail you and you are falling.

Wolffe had never moved faster, he had caught you just before you hit the ground. His helmet had fallen off and you see his face, a smile graces your lips, your mouth moving as if you’re trying to formulate words that won’t come. He cups your face, shaking his head trying to fight the sudden rush of tears that threatens to spill from his eyes.

“Cyar’ika, I’m here” he whispers, he moves the hair from your face “I’m here” he whispers and your smile grows wider, he takes your hand, pressing it to his cheek “Wo- Wolffe, I-I lo-“ your last breath leaves and your body goes limp in his arms “Wait, no, no”

Wolffe reaches for his blaster, turning it on the man and doesn’t think twice, the blaster hits the man and he drops. He turns back to you, he pulls you closer as his forehead comes to rest on yours and he weeps.

[cabotwife]

Omg can you do a modern Johanna mason x reader. One where they are older not in college I don’t really see Johanna going to college she probably went into a trade. But I think she also give off grumpy cottage core lesbian tolerating her wife’s cats and shit but I also get the vibe she would want an protection dog like a Belgian malinois and trains it to bark at men 😘

I love your work and I am so Impressed and happy at how your able to “publish” all your stories quickly but it doesn’t lose quality and is still very well written😍😍😘🥰

thank you for requesting! i'm so glad you love my work:) that makes me extremely happy to hear <3

Domestic Bliss

Johanna Mason x Fem!Reader

warnings: domestic Johanna (so slightly ooc), Johanna gets violently attacked or smth, she despises her wife's newest kitten, not proofread

word count: 1183

a/n: my first attempt at writting domestic fluff, i hope you like it ! (i wrote this at 3 am.)

--

you groan groggily as you are brought out of your peaceful sleep by the all too familiar sound of dog barking. “Romo..” you whine out, swatting your hand out as if that’d stop the loud dog.

“c’mon bud, listen to your mama.” as soon as you hear the raspy voice of your wife you kiss the possibility of sleep goodbye.

you push yourself up from where you lay on the couch, Atlas, your cat, somehow managed to sleep through all of Roman’s barking, but the moment you move he’s already in the next room. you stare at the tall brunette as she peels her jacket off of herself, hanging it on the coat rack.

“Jo.” you breathe, watching her with sleepy eyes.

when she turns to face you, you are graced with her beautiful grin. “hey, princess,” she hums, making her way over to you after kicking her boots off.

“what time is it?” you whisper, rubbing your eyes as you swing your legs off the edge of the couch. a yawn takes over you for a moment before you look up to Johanna with doe-like eyes.

your wife can’t help but chuckle at you, “time for you to get to bed, silly girl.. why’re you still up?” she squats down so you two are eye-level.

“was waiting for you..” you pout at her, looping your arms around her neck as you sloppily push your weight on her.

“woah-” Johanna places her hand on your elbow as she has to re-steady herself. “tryna make me fall?” she raises a teasing eyebrow.

you simply shake your head as you push yourself more towards the brunette, leaning your head against the crook of her neck. you feel the chuckle vibrate through her throat as she holds the back of your head. you peel your eyes open when you feel something touching your thigh, you giggle when you see Roman’s head resting on your thigh.

“come on, baby, time for bed.” she says gently, looping her forearms under your thighs as she stands, her muscles flexing as she picks you up.

you whine softly, but don’t protest as she carries you to your shared bedroom. you peer over her shoulder at the sound of the pattering of paws following behind you. you smile as your wife’s dog, who very humorously loves you more but do not mention that to her, follows close behind you two. the 1 year old Belgian Malinois puppy is always near you, he gets anxious and temperamental when you’re not here.

you refuse to loosen your grip on Johanna, even when she’s attempting to lay you in your bed. “baby.” she huffs at the pitiful noise you let out when she peels you off of her, plopping you into the bed. you furrow your eyebrows at her as she begins walking towards your shared closet. she simply shrugs, “i tried to be gentle,” she hums.

you bury your face in your pillow as you wait for your wife to join you in bed. you smile to yourself as you hear the light being switched off and then feel her toss herself onto her side of the bed. turning your head against the pillow, you look over to her. she’s now dressed in a white ribbed wife-pleaser and a pair of cotton shorts, that are probably yours.

she looks over to you, meeting your eyes. she rolls her eyes as she opens her arms for you.

you grin widely as you practically roll yourself into her arms. your legs immediately tangle as she takes you into her arms. you bury your face in her shoulder, your breath fanning against the neckline of her tank-top.

Johanna smiles down at you, pressing a kiss to your hair, “goodnight, princess, i love you.” she whispers.

“i love you too, ‘anna.” you mumble against the skin of her shoulder.

you both fall into a comfortable silence before dozing off into sleep.

—

by the time Johanna wakes up the next morning, you’re already up and out of bed. the brunette scrunches her eyebrows at your absence before sliding out of the bed.

she makes her way towards the kitchen, but not before tripping over the little white and orange demon that is bouncing from wall to wall in the hallway.

“jesus, Casper.” she groans, sweeping him away from her using her foot. much to her dismay though, Casper attacks again. he lunges at her ankle, causing her to stumble. she practically growls at the cat as she picks him up, as soon as her hands are on him he starts squirming, kicking his feet, and gnawing on her knuckles.

she tosses the cat onto the nearby chair, glaring at him as she finally walks into the kitchen.

her sour mood is immediately erased when she sees you working at the stove, your cook book propped up near you. Roman is curled up at your feet, just waiting to be tripped over. she scowls at the dog, her dog, though he doesn’t seem to know that, or he just simply doesn’t care. she can’t blame him though, you’ve always had a way with animals, they all just love you, almost as much as she does.

she walks up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder, “hey, baby.” she mumbles, turning her head slightly to press a kiss to your neck.

“g’morning, honey.” you grin cheerfully, turning your head to face her, placing a tender kiss to her lips. “how’d you sleep?” you ask as you turn back to the stove where you were working on making an omelet.

she hums, “good, good.. Atlas was laying in the bed with me when i woke up.” a smile takes over her lips.

“see! i told you, you just have to be patient with them, Jo,” you giggle, flipping your omelet over in the pan.

“mhmm..” she presses gentle kisses to your neck, and you tilt your head automatically to give her more access.

you turn the burner off on the stove, moving your breakfast to a plate, “do you have work today?” you ask as you turn in your wife’s arms, laying your own arms over her shoulders, playing with the short hairs on her neck.

she grins as she shakes her head, “nope, i’m yours all weekend, princess.” she winks.

“oh joy,” you say teasingly as you pat her hip, moving out of her grasp to grab the plate of omelet. you turn to face her again, pushing the plate towards her, “go sit down ‘n eat.”

the brunette furrows her eyebrows at you, “what about you?”

“mine is already made, silly,” i say, motioning towards the living room coffee table where my plate sits, an omelet resting atop of it, and a cat sitting there also. tearing off a piece of the egg. “hey! KJ, no!” you holler, running towards the living room to shoo the gray cat from your food.

you spin back around on your heels to face your wife, scratching your neck as you gaze at her. “whoops.”

[hiraeth-sonder]

Want Nothing More

Jiyan x Reader

A quiet moment away, a reunion and a revelation long foreseen

//He finally came home it only took my sanity. Very short little decently written fic, maybe OOC also some maybe spoilers for his story quest??? Also maybe I got stuff wrong idk, this isn't beta read so like eh

The greater world is often far wider than the humble confines of a small village, much less one so tucked away. Since facing an injury that rendered you almost entirely incapable of returning to the frontlines, you quietly returned to Taoyuan Vile with hefty compensation and an arm that could not even be lifted. 

Life becomes oddly quiet, with barely any danger to hold arms against nor a proper purpose back home, you take to helping in the village’s pharmacy as some way to bring order back into your daily routine. You are given more delicate work, pressing and drying herbs, sorting them for use, dealing with customers and aiding with deliveries. With the opportunity to provide, to give back, it became a sort of pride for how quick you could pick up the routine. 

It works for a while, yet with this new direction, you are gradually reminded of a certain someone from all those years ago. 

That boy who smelled like medicinal herbs and eyes like stars, whose face scrunched from displease whenever he caught a taste of bittberries in his food, the boy who certainly has found his path beyond medicine. There are times you blink and before you is not the current reality of him, but rather the little boy who somehow managed to find time to spend with you no matter his duties. 

Memories of stolen moments, of forcing him to rest after his sending condolences to grieving family, of exercising his natural medical ability. You were younger then, with limbs like sticks and hair that stuck to your face, yet that did not discourage you from doing what you could for your friend. 

You wonder how he is doing nowadays, you haven’t seen him since the day you got discharged after all. 

One can only imagine your surprise when through falling pink petals and the light breeze of the wind, he appears as he did all those years ago. Still the pillar of calm and decisiveness, he looked a tad out of place compared to the lively and enthusiastic crowd of teams. By his side was a dark haired individual, looking just a little less out of place, and when two other rangers approached them, a small huff escaped you. 

A repeat of that last game, who would have known that the general’s second game would have him recreating the circumstances of his first. If only with a few minor differences. 

By the time the revelry and chaos dies down, the sun has long since fallen beyond the horizon. Many of the villagers are still out celebrating as the tapestry of stars stretches far past what your eyes can see. Having made the venture to the great tree that stands atop the mountain, you notice a familiar form already standing there. Beneath falling petals and illuminated by the moon’s grace, that young boy of the past has become your stalwart general. 

With heavy steps, you approach him, yet stop just a few steps before his side, sitting down on the grass as you overlook the little lights of the village. He clearly notices your presence, sitting curtly, leaving an arm’s distance between your two forms. 

“I didn’t think you’d take part again,” You hum, keeping your eyes away from his as you maintain your focus ahead of you. 

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He shakes his head, his lips move to open just the slightest, as if wishing to say more yet unable to muster the words to say so, still they close. Jiyan manages to breathe out, “It's been a while.”

You swallow, an action that seems oddly difficult, “It has.”

As you finally muster the courage to turn towards him, you notice how his gaze seems to consider your inept arm. Perhaps a few years ago, you would have despised the way he looks at it, knowing that people only look because of pity. Nonetheless, you instinctively press that arm against you, your other hand raising to hold it. 

He furrows his brow just the slightest, and in a tone so soft you must strain to hear, “I wanted to apologise for not doing more for you.”

“You’ve already done so much.” Sighing, a breath escapes you as you meet his eyes. You move closer towards him, shifting so that hand of yours, that arm that could barely lift a basket, could rest atop his arm. 

Your voice cracks just the slightest, even after all this time you never manage to thank him for everything he has done for you. The compensation was far too generous for an ordinary ranger such as yourself, the immediate and efficient care you received as rehabilitation, the bundle of Pecok flowers you would see upon every morning’s awakening. You only hoped you could give him something back in return, “An arm is just an arm, if you hadn’t acted as quick as you did, maybe I would’ve lost more than that.”

Jiyan looked no more than the young man he is, in such familiar settings and under such familiar straits. Sword straight brows and the soft quirk of his lips, he never truly changed from that young boy. Your eyes trail further down, to his squared shoulders and staunch chest, how they maintain rigid and perfect poise. 

Another sigh escapes you, “You’re not at work, won’t you at least untense your shoulders?”

“I’m sorry, there has been a lot going on and I didn’t think I’d end up staying here so long.”

“Don’t apologise,” You smile, then pat your lap with your hand. Sending him a nonplussed look, you can all but see the gears in his head, you can only laugh, “Humour me then.”

He does not move, his eyes widening just the slightest that to anyone else, they might have missed his brief moment of shock. You have not asked him to rest in such a manner for years, perhaps the last time was over a decade ago, so you do not blame him. Still, perhaps it was the nostalgia, perhaps it was the unveiling of sentiment, but a familiar sense of easiness takes over. 

“Come on, don’t tell me great and mighty General Jiyan is too good for a break?” You raise a brow, easy teasing falling from your lips. 

He is quick to deny your quip, “I never said that.” And with at first hesitancy in his very form, he finally tentatively lays his head on your lap. 

The weight brings about old memories, and old feelings. How old were you when you realised that Jiyan, friend as he is, was worth far more than that to you? How old were you when you started looking forward to his little breaks just to catch a glimpse of him? 

You loved him, of course you did. Who does not love their friends?

Yet this love of yours is one that is aged, one that has matured into contentment for what you had. Even as you spend your days in Taoyuan Vile, the little parts of him you see among the crooks and crannies of white walls and verdant greenery, it is enough for you. So even when he lays in your lap and closes his eyes as he did all those years ago, you are happy with what you have. 

“You know, when we were younger, I used to have to convince you to rest whenever we managed to get away,” More akin to reminiscing seniors, you brush away his bangs away from his face with a gentle flick. 

“Even then you were so hardworking,” You murmur. 

He responds, just as quietly as your recollection, “That should be expected, I was working even then.”

“I think it was when I saw how peaceful you looked while sleeping that I realised I liked you,” Humming, you close your eyes as the wind breezes past your cheek. 

As though realising what you said, a warm flush pools at the tips of your ears as you accidentally meet his eyes, “Ah…”

“Guess I said too much huh?” You laugh, the sound carried by the gentle wind. “Ignore me, I’m just saying things.”

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Jiyan reaches for you, his hand raised to keep you from looking away. Though he remains, those golden eyes tipped with scarlet bear an emotion you never thought he would hold. With just one look, just one action, he renders you incapable of moving to defend yourself. 

He mutters, voice tinged with just the hint of languish, “After all these years, you’re still unwilling to tell me things.”

“Would you have wanted me to tell you?” With a raised brow, you cock your head, leaning into his palm incidentally. 

“Yes.”

And that contentment, the placidity that came with the distance and time between the two of you, crumbles. For your love, a sentiment you have nurtured into something that can be tucked away, is still one that yearns for response. For his love, is one just as aged as yours, just as willing to sit in contentment and placidity. Years and years of pining that soon bred a seed of tranquillity, quietly sitting within the soil just waiting for that push to bloom. 

With a soft smile, so like that boy’s and so befitting your beloved general’s visage, he avows the second half of a confession brazenly said, “Because it was when I laid in your lap that I realised that I liked you too.”

[i-starcreamed]

could i have some angsty/comfort-ish headcanons about a gn reader who doesn’t feel like they deserve praise or affection, and tfp ratchet, knockout + breakdown (poly, if that’s okay), and starscream comforting them?

[ human!reader post includes: TFP Ratchet, Knockout+Breakdown, and Starscream

hii thanks for the request. this might be OOC and a little...idk, I'm not that good with emotions so I generally went with some things that might fit them, hopefully

TFP Ratchet

He's not a bot that's usually too affectionate, so when you express the way you're feeling he may think it's because of him. Very much in disbelief though, how can you feel unworthy of something you very much deserve?

Either way, he understands you need support when you have those moments of self-doubt

Really encourages you to talk about it if you want to, despite his gruff attitude on the exterior, with you, he patiently listens and tries to help you see your strengths and accomplishments

I mean come on, you're unlike anyone he's ever met and his favorite human + his significant other!!

Will pause anything he was doing to spend more time with you and give you the support you need. Preferably holding you near his chest, close to his spark or near his face. Generally lets you just curl up next to him

His reassuring isn't super lovey dovey but it's genuine

TFP Knockout + Breakdown

You get showered in compliments as soon as you're feeling down

Knockout is more direct and might scoff, don't be silly darling?? You're wonderful and both Breakdown and I love you,,

Breakdown agrees and gently picks you up to emphasize their point. He says you're stuck with the both of them and he wouldn't have it any other way

I feel like both of their love languages are pretty much physical affection, whether it's smothering you in robot hugs or simply vibing with you on their shoulder. To hear that you think you don't deserve it, they're in disbelief

Knockout is the busier one, constantly repairing bots in the medbay and such. Breakdown gets sent on missions too, however, they both make time out of their day to spend it with you. Not that they didn't, but they pay extra attention to their actions and make sure you're happy and secure. Insists that they'll do this for you ANYTIME!!

if someone on the Nemesis is making you feel this way, Knockout will make sure they don't wake up from their next appointment will keep you a safe distance away from them with the help of Breakdown

TFP Starscream

Not the most empathetic but he definitely gets how you feel. He probably feels the same way tbh. These are the few times where he actually acts sincere, or at least as much as he can

If you bring it up to him, he'll stay quiet and listen. Honestly, he understands how vulnerable this moment can be and will keep his comments to himself

Insists how you've not only earned his respect, but he's literally in love with you and that means so much already (he actually thinks you're great, brave and so kind to him...pls he thinks does not deserve you)

"You.. deserve all the affection I give you. And I'll make sure you get it, whether you think you deserve it or not." (he does that little awkward smile he did with knockout in that one episode idk)

Certainly isn't the most...graceful with his words but can occasionally say something genuinely sweet ^

Depending on how long you've been together, his physical affection may seem a little awkward or either very intimate. He's either barely figuring out how to hold you close or holds you up to his faceplates, servos carefully shielding you from falling somehow.

Personally he knows these things take time to get over so he reminds you that you're loved and appreciated..in his own ways

Also if these emotions/thoughts stem from someone else's faults...the revenge has already been plotted and is currently in progress

[woooyeahbaby]

a morning with kaveh (ft. alhaitham)

kaveh x gn!reader

warnings: swearing (reader says shit), reader jokingly hints at going to cheat with alhaitham?? idk they just say he looks nice n’ it bothers kaveh, i’m tired and kinda forget what kaveh is like so possible ooc kaveh?

a/n: good morning i love kaveh sm (also if anyone is seeing this from search or whatever if you like my writing i take requests please request please put your hands in the bars of my enclosure)

waking up next to kaveh is beautiful. the large, colourful blanket that he’d picked out for your bed splayed over his body, all the way up to his chest. you could see his collarbone gently poking from his skin, in the spots that his long blonde hair wasn’t covering, that is.

speaking of his hair, it looks absolutely gorgeous in the orange glow of the sun peeking through the curtains. not to mention his brown eyelashes! you could even see a few faint freckles across his face in the lighting.

his pink lips look gorgeous, yet dry. you should probably remind him to put on some chapstick once he wakes up. or maybe you could put some on, and share it with him through a kiss. you smile at the thought.

you glance at the clock, seeing what time it was. nine am, on the dot.. ah, it’s saturday, alhaitham is home. probably awake already, sipping coffee and reading some book. maybe you should wait to wake kaveh up? no, he needs to wake up eventually…

you place a hand on his shoulder, softly grazing it along his arm. up, down, circles on his bicep.. not working.

“kaveh,” you mutter. “gotta wake up.”

he whines, hearing you, but not quite registering what you said. he flips his body so he’s on his back, placing the arm you were stroking to his side. now his chest is fully revealed, and you know how sensitive he is when you touch him there.

you place a hand on his chest, gliding it across wherever you wanted. he takes a deep breath, opening his ruby eyes slightly to glare at you. he may be beautiful when he’s sleeping, but he isn’t quite as graceful when waking up.

“lemme sleep, please..” kaveh mumbles, shutting his eyes again.

“alhaitham is up, he’ll be upset if you sleep too much longer. how ‘bout i make you some coffee, hm?” you ask, still rubbing circles on his chest.

“fine.” he nods gently. so cute. you think.

after looking at your gorgeous boyfriend for a few seconds longer, you decide to finally get up from your bed. you get dressed, then brush your hair once you get over to you and kaveh’s vanity.

you exit the bedroom, making your way to the kitchen. you see alhaitham at the counter, seemingly making his second cup of coffee.

“oh, good morning, y/n.” alhaitham greets you, a soft smile on his face.

“good morning! kaveh’ll be up in a bit, he’s being stubborn.” you giggle.

“of course he is.” he chuckles a little, sighing. “i’ll be in the living room.”

you nod, proceeding with making your boyfriends coffee as your housemate exits.

once it’s prepared, just how he likes it, you return to your bedroom, seeing that he’d gone right back to sleep.. of course.

“kaveh, your coffee.” you say loudly, placing your hand on your hip.

“jus’ come cuddle…” kaveh groans.

“i’d love to, but no. come on, get up.” you’re starting to get a little annoyed, despite how adorable he was being. still, no response from kaveh. “alhaitham is looking reaaaaal nice today..”

“i’m up!” he darts up, messy blonde hair falling over his shoulders. “you always say that to get me up!”

“because it works, now get dressed. and put on some chapstick.” you remember your thought from earlier.

“yeah, yeah…” he mutters, doing as he’s told.

you walk out of the bedroom, cup still in hand. you go to the living room, sitting next to alhaitham and placing the mug on the table.

“have you brushed your teeth yet?” the grey haired man asks, not looking away from his book.

“oh, shit.” you stand right back up, heading for the washroom.

you brush your teeth, hoping that by the time you’re done kaveh will be in the living room. once you’re done, you make your way back to the living room.

“would you please tell him to put a shirt on?” alhaitham sighs, looking at you with an exhausted expression.

yeah, kaveh was shirtless. it didn’t bother you, of course, and neither did it bother alhaitham, you knew that. so you didn’t know why he was asking this, but because he’s the one letting you and your boyfriend stay here, you agree to help him.

“kaveh! shirt!” you shout, sounding like you’re commanding a dog.

he sighs loudly, stomping back to the bedroom. a few seconds after, he walks back out, his casual white shirt now covering him.

“archons, you’re weird.” you roll your eyes, sitting back on the couch.

“you love me.” he mumbles, taking a sip of his coffee.

[bettsfic]

hi betts! thx for writing free ride, its one of my fav. i sent this bcz of your a/n at the end of chap 2: "I don't know where communist frat boy Sejanus or lowkey yandere Lucy Gray came from but they are here and they aren't leaving." im always afraid of characters running on their own when i try to write a fic. im afraid they wont be in character anymore if i let them be. so i try to be careful and meticulous, but instead it stops me from writing. have u ever tried to stop charas when they run on their own because they end up not in character? how do you do characterisation when you write a fic?

whenever i get an ask about how to stay IC, in my heart i'm wiping a cartoonish drop of sweat from my brow and stepping in front of a mountain of comments accusing me of OOC.

it's interesting to me that anxiety about writing OOC comes from a proprietary feeling toward existing characters. both our own proprietary feeling which grants us the interest in writing fanfic about them, but also the reader's proprietary feelings which lead them to go "he wouldn't fucking say that."

there's a paradox there, though. many of us write fic to be self-indulgent. self-indulgence means prioritizing the ideal. the ideal sometimes means taking characters away from their canon selves in order to fit the story we're writing.

my whole motivation for Free Ride is wanting to see how coriolanus would be different growing up in contemporary american capitalism. canonically, he's a tyrant. but we have no idea why or how, in canon, north america became panem. panem is not a free market economy; there's not even evidence coriolanus knows what capitalism is. controlling commerce is one of his greatest anxieties. the idea that the capitol could be once again cut off from necessary imports is what leads him to make virtually every decision he makes in both tbosas and thg. so i think he would detest the idea of a free market, but he would never be a socialist.

which is all to say, a lot of the fic i've written these past few years have been kind of "what if" character studies in lieu of writing meta. with that being the goal, i'm less concerned about the characterization of anyone else. suzanne collins set me up well with developing characters who have a strong voice; ultimately, when people say "he wouldn't fucking say that" i think they mean "he wouldn't fucking say that in that way." in the case of tbosas, with the film and book being so different in terms of characterization, i feel there's a bit of leniency anyway. i'm writing book coriolanus with movie lucy gray and sejanus.

also, i think part of the fun of fanfic is selling your characterization. "yandere lucy gray" is a kind of thesis statement and the fic, i hope, backs up that interpretation. sans fearing for her life, i think lucy gray would be a bored twentysomething who feels like a big fish in a little pond and is eager to indulge in the kind of intensity she craves. canonically, i think you can argue they bring out the worst in each other. consciously, i'd gone into this fic eager to see how coriolanus would develop in this particular circumstance. unconsciously, lucy gray and sejanus's voices developed on their own around the premise.

there have been a few situations where i wrote characters in the entirely wrong direction before catching myself. i think i had about 40k of Digging for Orchids written when i realized i'd written xie lian wrong. i imparted on him my own interpretation of a happy ending. i can't really wrap my head around ambition or the drive for fame, so initially he came to accept his fall from grace and moved on from acting. but i remembered that canonically he's a god and his story is about ascension. in a modern au, household name fame is what would make him happiest. so i had to go back a ways and write in a different direction so i could give him the ending he deserved, even if it's not something i would ever choose for myself.

which is all to say, it's important to acknowledge that what you want for your story and what is "right" (in this case, IC) may sometimes be at odds with each other. sometimes what you want is more important, because that's why you're writing in the first place. but sometimes you can have what you want and also stay IC. in the case of Free Ride, i could write you a paper on the choices i made about coriolanus's characterization. i have dozens of annotations in my copy of tbosas interpreting his canon behavior in a modern context. but my only support for communist frat boy sejanus is that i think it's very funny and also the movie totally mangled his character so i feel slightly more justified in making him who i need him to be for the story.

write the story you want to read. once it's written, you can go back and figure out if some piece of characterization isn't sitting right with you. in writing, all things can be fixed. and if you don't feel like fixing them, you don't have to. it's your story.

[beware-of-eels]

Rajbow AU where Bowie and Emma go ice skating during free skate hours at the rink Raj and Wayne work part time to help cover hockey costs

except instead of being bad at it, Bowie fully knowing how to skate- instead faking a minor (graceful) fall so that the cute rink employee with the eyebrows comes over to help him up and check on him. And maybe get his number

Got carried away thinking about this in detail so if you want the longer babbly almost-a-fic version it's under the cut lmao

[disclaimer: everything ik abt ice rinks is from going to the one at the mall like. maybe three times in my life bdbsbnxnd. I live in Texas] [i've also literally never written fanfic and so am not much of a writer but this kind of possessed me when i was bored at work so if the dialogue is bad or ooc and the tense is all off.... no its not lmao]

Anyways - Emma's decided she's going to invest in hobbies that she DIDN'T share with chase, something completely separate and away from him -- chase thinks its to impress him bc of course he does. someone send this boy to detention--and drags Bowie along "so she's not alone, obviously"

good friend that he is, Bowie goes with, and especially bc Bowie DOES know how to skate - pretty well actually. he's no figure skater/hockey player/etc, but if Bowies going to do anything in public he's going to do it well. he can make his way around the rink with ease, manage a little fancy footwork when he wants to, enough to pull a minor trick out of his hat. besides, what's the point of doing something if you can't show off a little bit? never hurts to catch someone's eye, or establish yourself to your peers as someone who knows what they're doing -- and really, Bowie's counting on his reputation to ensure those prom votes.

what Bowie didn't count on was the cute hockey boy that was handing off skate rentals to blush and stammer so sweetly when he flirted with him for the hell of it. and he really didn't count on said cute hockey boy having a shift change and heading onto the rink to fill in as ice monitor pretty soon after he and Emma start skating. Even in the flourescent lighting the boy is cute, and it doesn't take a genius to see how hockey has bulked him up - and he really was so endearing when he was flustered- so Bowie figures why not try his hand at a little more fun. And really, what better way to shoot his shot than to fake needing a little extra help from a buff hockey player?

Naturally Wayne and Raj work their stations together - their manager had tried to separate them once and was QUICK to never make that mistake again - so when they've switched out with their coworkers handling skate rentals, they're immediately out on the ice together, as loud and rambunctious as they can get away with without reprimand

if Raj is a little (not-so) secretly excited to maybe see the cute boy that winked at him earlier - Yknow, bc it made him feel excited! ...whatever that meant - then that's between him, Wayne, and the hockey gods. otherwise hes just pumped to be on the ice with his best bud. They're making their rounds, keeping an eye out for anything dangerous or against the rules that they might have to intervene, and otherwise yelling hockey metaphors and mutual encouragement as loudly as they can get away with

and right when Wayne has to slip away to separate a couple of kids trying to trip eachother, Bowie decides to makes his move

He gives emma the heads up that he's gonna slow down and try something, and does his best to fall as gracefully as he can - maintaining the look of competence is still important after all - while still doing so loud enough to garner the cute hockey boy's - Rajie?- attention. He sits on the ice a second longer than he strictly necessary, and by the time he's ready to stand back up Raj is there holding out a steady hand, bushy eyebrows pulled together in concern.

"oh my god are you okay - here I'll help you up" He looks so worried for a moment that Bowie almost feels bad for lying. Almost.

"well i'm much better now" Bowie throws the boy another wink, earning him the exact flustered face Raj had responded with before. Forget subtlety if that's the reaction he was going to get by being forward, "but I do think my ankle could use a little TLC - care to help me get somewhere to sit down?

"Uh yes! Yes of course, thats. thats what I'm here for!" Raj can feel his face heating up as he stammers under the gaze of the boy in front of him "I'm Raj, uh by the way"

And isn't he just too cute "I'm Bowie, it's nice to meet you"

Raj quickly signals to Wayne the general situation, and then solidifies himself into position to help Bowie up without falling himself. after that it doesn't take too much finagling to get bowie back up to his feet and leaning heavily on raj's shoulder and the two of them start to slowly make their way back off of the rink. Bowie can't help but smile a bit- he was absolutely right about Raj being buff, and he couldn't wait to see what else he had in store.

Raj, nervous about having a cute boy so close to him suddenly, does what he does best - fall into Hockey talk - or in this case, hockey adjacent. Hockey could be a dangerous sport - he'd helped teammates with ankle sprains plenty of times! It would probably help Bowie feel better to know that Raj has this handled "We'll have to check which part of your ankle hurts once we sit you down - just to make sure it's not a fracture. You can lean on me more if you need! its uh, you don't want to put too much pressure on it until we can take a look at it. I should have some extra stuff in my bag to wrap it up if its a sprain, and then I can see if we still have ice packs in the first aid kit! Hopefully it's just a sprain, but dont worry if it's worse I'll still make sure you're okay! When me and wayne - that's my buddy - were kids, I fractured my arm pretty bad at practic-"

Bowie had seen already that Raj was a little nervous talking to him, if plenty enthusiastic. But the sweetness of his scramble to comfort Bowie for an injury that hadn't even occured - not that he had to know that - was invigorating none the less. There was a genuineness to the boy that was refreshing, and he was sure if he was actually hurt, he would be feeling calmed and comforted by his babbling. If not for the talk about first aid, then for the earnestness in Raj's telling of his own past injuries on the ice.

Raj doesn't realize he's still talking until he's helping Bowie sit down on a bench outside near the skate rental area. "oh sorry if that was too much - I'm gonna go get the first aid kit then I'll be right back!"

He walked off quickly, glad for the chance to take a breather, and keep his head from being clouded by sharp eyes and quit witted flirting. Not to mention the bold choice of Bowie to wear a crop top to go ice skating. It certainly did look nice on him

Once Raj returns, he leans down and carefully begins checking Bowies ankle for anything serious - slowly pressing on the skin and rotating the foot to gauge maneuverability. Satisfied with Bowie's assessment that the pain wasn't too bad, he got to work wrapping his foot - Raj wasn't going to let shoddy first aid exacerbate the problem.

Looking down at the hockey player in front of him, Bowie gets to work on his own interests. "Thank you for all your help - usually I consider myself a pretty good skater, but oh well. I guess one person can't be fantastic at everything all the time," he punctuated with a large sigh, wiggling his toes when Raj motions for him to.

"Oh I'm sure you're always fantastic! I've been skating since I could walk and even I still take a tumble from time to time - that doesn't mean you aren't great! I guess mine usually come from bad checks though eh? Oh because I play hockey! I don't remember if I told you that-- A-anyways, I didn't really get to see you skate before you fell but I'm sure you're incredible. I mean you seem incredible. At skating! I mean"

Raj finally cuts himself off, hoping to end the awkardness of his own rambling. All he had to do was finish wrapping up Bowie's ankle and exit the interaction with minimal blushing - he could do that! He could hear Wayne's voice hyping him up in his head - was a snow owl, he'd faced goons bent on injuring and cross checks more than even made sense for a highschool league - he could handle getting through a conversation with a cute boy. Even if said cute boy had long eyelashes and a knowing smile and a pearl necklace expertly framing his neck.

Bowie of course could not be more pleased - it seems Raj was more than just fun to fluster. He was sweet and earnest and clearly passionate about hockey - enough that Bowie found himself actually looking forward to hearing more of Raj's confusing hockey lingo, if it meant seeing that focused look in his eyes when he started getting carried away.

"Well if you really think so, maybe you'd like to see how incredible I am some other time - when you're not working, of course"

"For sure dude! That sounds like loads of fun!" Raj's agreement comes out enthusiastic, until he look down at Bowies ankle in his hands, freshly wrapped and now with an ice pack to match "But not until your ankle's healed up - skating's great but you won't be able to if you hurt your ankle worse by pushing it." The sudden intensity of his expression betraying how seriously the boy takes his sport.

Bowie stifles a laugh "It really doesn't hurt that much, but deal. Maybe you can show me some of your fancy hockey moves while we're at it" he said liltingly. and theres that blush again, hard to see on his skin but clear as day to the boy who triggered it "in the meantime though -can I get your number?"

Raj answers without even taking a beat "Oh I'm number 8! On the snow owls, I'm actually alternate capt-" he's cut off by a gentle hand on his own where it's still holding the ice pack.

"I actually meant your phone number" bowie's ecpression is nothing but kind, so Raj doesn't feel quite so clueless when he manages out a

"Right! yes, right - here let me see your phone"

the two boys quickly exchange numbers, as Bowie continues his previous thought "But I'd love to hear all about your hockey team on our date"

"Yeah! ha, that sounds good."

The two of them stay a moment just to smile at one another, before the moment is broken-

"RAJIE! Are you doin okay there bud? Do you need some help?" "Don't worry Wayners! I'll be over in a sec!"

Raj turns back to Bowie, sheepish "I uh, gotta get back to work, do you have somebody that can take you home safe?"

Bowie presses a quick peck to his cheek, "I've got a friend here with me, no need to worry about little ole me. I'll see you soon though, handsome"

And again that blush. Raj manages to stammer through a goodbye before trudging back to the ice - doing a quick lap around at full speed to release some of his energy before returning to his best friends side. He'd tell Wayne all about it later, for now he was just doing his best not to smile too hard.

Eventually Emma finds her way to Bowie sat on a bench, carefully tying his shoes back over a newly bandaged ankle.

"sooo how'd it go? you didn't really hurt your ankle did you? because you know I'd feel awful for bringing you here if you got hurt and didn't even get a cute boy's number out of it"

"No on the injury, Yes on getting his number - let's head back to your house, I'll catch you up on the ride home"

"Yes! well I'm glad one of us had a good time - after you left Chase walked by - how did he even know we were here? He's so -"

Bowie tunes out the rest of his friends rant, he'd heard this before, and he was sure she'd forgive him for not listening if he told her he was thinking about his upcoming date with Raj. The boy really was too good, and Bowie hadn't even really had to work very hard to find that out. He found himself throwing in an occasional remark to keep Emma going as they walked, thinking about the intensity with which Raj clearly loved sports, about the simple sincerity in the way that he talked. This really could be the start of something special

Yep, the trip to the ice rink had gone better than imagined. He just needed to admit to Raj that he had fallen on purpose and all would be well.

After they were on their date, of course.

[punkitt-is-here]

I just wanted to say I really like your optimistic approach to the show as a whole. I’m also currently rewatching the show after kind of falling out of it around Season 6, and even though I’m one to overanalyze every piece of media I consume, part of that also includes looking deeply to find good things in the episodes I might not entirely like. Like I might find a really interesting character trait explored in an episode I thought was otherwise poorly written or uninteresting, or I try to come up with compelling possible explanations for WHY a character might have been OOC in a certain episode beyond just saying the writers suck. It’s a little different from your approach I think, but even though I get a little analytical I do it in ways that help me enjoy the show more, because enjoyment should be the goal with watching shows like this imo! Even when the characters are stupid and/or assholes at times, it just makes them more human which is part of the fun for me!

No problem! I actually picked up this train of thought from ThorHighHeels, who's a YouTuber I love. I've seen that guy take a peak at the most dogshit kusoge games I've ever seen and still find insightful, interesting, and worthwhile things to take away from those games that really leave me in love with the process of making art in the first place. Like, even in The Worst Shit you can still find cool things. And after being in film production studies for almost two years now, I know how fucking hard it is to get anything off the ground at all, so I usually have an appreciation for the artistry of something even if it isn't perfect. Hell, I used to be such a cynical little critic as a high schooler, but once I learned that there's actually so much cool shit and so much fun you can have if you're just willing to give media a little grace when you watch it, you ultimately come away from all stories much happier.

[mrsbsmooth]

So we know you love Lewie 💗💗 Any thoughts on the other islanders, the season so far, the twin twist? And what steamy fics can we expect from you 🔥🔥My request is for a threesome with Ozzy and Marshall 🥵👯‍♂️ Wait, am I Kat?! 🤣

tbf a LOT of the islanders are fire this season, so I’ll take them all! Ok, FB has turned me into thirsty Kat.

I MEANNNNNNNNNN

Honestly, thoughts are all over the place. But thank you so much for asking!!! Here they are as of today:

The Game:

The first 3 chapters - 8/10 I was going to give it a 7.5, because of the repeating dialogue and a few spelling mistakes, but so far, I think it's better written than Seasons 4 and 5- maybe on par with S3 which is a season I really enjoyed. I'm really liking how Amelia seems to be responding to how you treat her, especially if you look at the scripts. Whether or not that will affect her actions remains to be seen.

The MC - 8/10 I gotta say... she's pretty cute. It does take some fiddling to get her the way you want her, and some of her facial expressions make it look like she's had botched lip job, but overall, she's definitely prettier than S4 and S5. (Except your S5 MC ^^ wtf she's so pretty???)

The LIs - 9/10 So far, I'm really liking what I'm seeing. Yeah, some of their dialogue is the same. But I think they're different enough in personality and where it matters that it's not as noticeable as it was in say, Season 4, where James and Bruno shared a whole heap of the same dialogue, but it was clearly written with Bruno in mind, so it just seemed OOC for James. We've got a cocky dancer with a hopeless romantic streak; a golden retriever boyfriend with a soft spot for his Nan; a funny, cheeky skateboarder with a 'why-don't-you-make-me' level of flirt; and also Ryan is there. The personalities are distinct, the character designs are great, I'm really looking forward to finding out more about them

Overall design and concept- 7/10 I gotta say, I'm optimistic. It's starting out really strong for a new season. I get that it's not everyone's cup of tea, as it's a little 'gimmicky', but that's the road Fusebox are going down with the past few seasons. They're not just doing an 'open play' like S1, 2 and 3 where you come in as an OG and play all the way through. 4,5, and 6 are all 'themed', and I think having a twin in the villa is a cool concept that'll be worth exploring. It's been easy in previous seasons to just play for yourself, and say 'fuck these hoes' and just take whatever LI you want. But when it's your own sister, I think it'll make it harder to go after what you want - a moral dilemma with a family flavour. I kinda love it. Plus, if you have an identical twin that's as hot as you are, I doubt this is the first time you've had men confused about which one of you to pick💀

The Islanders:

Bella - hot. flawlessly hot. incredible rack. Her character design is absolutely gorgeous, and she is gonna be a fan favourite for sure. She just seems so fun, similar to Cora from S4, but more mature and ready for a romantic relationship. Can't wait to watch her bloom.

Grace - FB I will never forgive you for not making her a LI. I want her, those curves just *chefs kiss*. But honestly, if anyone's gonna be my bestie, I'm feeling it ith Grace. Yeah, she seems to like Ozzy, but she doesn't seem like the type to get her claws in and latch on for dear life a la Kat or Hope. Let's just hope and pray and beg that they're not making a brown girl villain again.

Ivy - I told y'all from the moment I saw her that I didn't trust this bitch. She looks too much like my cousin and my cousin is a backstabbing skank. I'm loving the concept of her though, this super type-A girl who (I almost guarantee) is either going to a) get kicked out early for being too picky, or b) have the most beautiful redemption arc where she ends up with a guy who ticks exactly zero of her boxes but she falls for him anyway. However, given Fusebox's history, I'm gonna predict she's the villain for about 2 days, then gets booted, same as Lexi from S4.

Jamal - Boys with J names 🚩... but honestly he seems nice. He's my backup LI at the moment. I'll see how things go with my #1 and might start again with Jamal instead. I think you're gonna get some wonderfully steamy scenes with this one. He's giving Bobby x Arjun, and that is something that deeply appeals to me. Cheeky, cheeky, cheeky. He's a saucy little minx and he's gonna be trouble, I just know it. Love his design, love his character so far, really happy.

Lewie - I thought he was a little baby-faced to start with, but honestly, I look at him and my brain screams husband. I'm getting Bruno x Gary x Ciaran from this one, and oh dear me, if that's not a combo that makes me swoon IDK what is. Love him so far, he's such a sweetheart but I love a footy lad.

Ozzy - I'm suspicious. I know he's already captured a few peoples' attention, but I was a little dismissive with him and he seemed a bit... red flag-y. Just a little too arrogant, you know? A little too flirtatious for someone who's very aware of how into him Grace is. I did like that he'd never had a one night stand though, although not sure how that meshes with the celebrity he apparently hooked up with in the dance studio? Because in the challenge he said he'd never dated a celebrity, but he also said he's never had a one night stand, so did he have a celebrity FWB????? The stories just aren't adding up to me. I don't trust him. Also his jaw's too sharp. And his flirty face looks like Rocco from S2. This one:

🥴

Ryan - Literally who? I keep forgetting he exists. Take your Timothee Chalamet ass away. IDK why but I'm getting Nicolas vibes from this one. 0/10 do not trust. It's something about the face.

Fics:

You want steamy fics? The @litgwritersroom asks are open, just sayinnnn