#and if not then I'm sending you all the good vibes for a better week this week :)

[crimeronan]

i seem to finally be coming off a flare that's lasted....... fuck knows how long. most of the month at least. i woke up today only wheezing a little and not having a headache even before taking my meds. took a heavy-duty anti-inflammatory just now to kill the remaining symptoms, i'm gonna do some dishes and then go pick up yet Another prescription for More heavy-duty anti-inflammatory drugs, bc that's my life now. send prayers or good vibes into the universe that i have more than a day or two of freedom from The Hellfires. i need this So Fucking Bad.

[wolfiesmoon]

I can't sleep

Ran x good girl!reader

Do i want a bad boy (literal criminal) bf? Yea but i would probably cry if he insulted me or got into trouble in any capacity at all

(i am totally not unironically vibing to pretty little psycho while writing this)

edit: i made a part 2!!

"I dare you to kiss Haitani Ran." Your friend nudged you.

You knew you shouldn't have agreed to this stupid game of truth or dare. You knew your friend was going to make you do stupid stuff like this.

"Like... the big scary delinquent guy?" You asked, hoping you heard her wrong.

"Yeah, that Haitani Ran." Your friend smirked mischeviously.

"How about I don't do that?" The last thing you'd want to do is get involved wth any delinquents or gangs. You have no idea how dangerous Ran could be and even if he wasn't you'd still refuse to kiss a good for nothing delinquent.

"Are you trying to get me killed?" you followed up, realising just how bad this dare could end up.

"You do know that refusing this dare means that you have to do anything I say for a week, right?" Your friend had a horribly evil look on her face. You don't even want to know the things she would make you do if you refused this stupid dare.

But is kissing Ran any better? Pick your poison, you suppose.

"Fine, I'll do it." You said behind clenched teeth, not at all happy about this outcome. You've never even kissed before, and now you have to kiss freaking Ran Haitani. You might actually die.

Why did you agree? What is wrong with you?

This might just be the worst day of your life.

You ended up being a little unfocused in class, making your teacher worry.

.

"Haitani-san." you call out to him, your voice dying off slightly at the end due to nerves. You're the only ones left in the classroom, with your friend watching from behind the door to make sure you actually do it. He looks back at you and you feel a shiver run through you.

Oh my god, you're actually doing this.

He stops, waiting to see what you want with him. You move closer to him, and his eyes narrow slightly, as if he's getting a good look at you.

"Now, what could the class president herself possibly want with me?" his tone was slightly mocking and you would have showed him you're not to be messed with but honestly you'd probably be the one losing in that scenario.

You inhaled sharply, pulling him down by his braids and planting a kiss straight onto his lips. This feels like a bad shojo plot, the "good girl" falls in love with the "bad boy" and kisses him all of a sudden. Except there's no romance involved here. Just a dare.

Is this how you kiss? Why does it feel so strange? That should be enough, right? You can feel your parents shaking their heads dissaprovingly already.

Ok, now you're just kissing him for way too long. It's time to let go. And you try to, you really do. Since when were his arms wrapped around your waist, anyways? And why isn't he letting you go?!

You can feel your friend's evil stare burning into your back. This is not amusing!

He laughed a little into the kiss, pulling you impossibly closer. Oh, so they're both going to enjoy your suffering now, you see how it is.

Still, kissing him isn't half ba-

Ok, you're actually losing it. You need out and fast.

You wriggled out of his grasp, running away as fast as your legs could take you. You heard both Ran and your friend yell something behind you but you honestly don't care.

Why did you ever agree to do this?!

.

That same thought persisted even as you tossed and turned in bed that night.

"Oh god, he's going to send his goons after me and I'm gonna die... And then I won't ever get to become successful..." you muttered to yourself.

"Or maybe he's gonna come and kill me myself after school tommorow... Ugh..." you can't come to school tired, you won't be able to pay attention in class that way. You can't ruin your perfect record by falling asleep in class.

Who cares about the perfect record?! You should be worried for your life!

"And what is that stupid noise, anyways?" you muttered, grumbling and getting up to inspect the source. Another stone hits the window, making you jump slightly. You walk to the window and open it, narrowly avoiding a stone that was thrown your way.

"Sorry!~"

Wait. You'd recognise that voice anywhere.

It's Ran.

"What are you doing here? How did you even get my adress?" you half yelled, not wanting to wake up your parents.

"You shouldn't sweat the little things. Come downstairs." he was smiling calmly, but you still couldn't tell if he was threatening you. Actually, is that his motorcycle parked next to him?

"You should probably put on a jacket too. It's real cold." he added on, and you nervously closed the window, quietly sneaking downstairs and putting on a jacket. Your pyjamas are not the most presentable, but you really don't want to test his patience right now.

You met him outside. What is he going to do to you now?

"Get on." he pointed to his bike, catching you off guard.

"Not without a helmet, riding a motorcycle without one can be really dangerous and you could lose your life." you couldn't help but bring up safety regulations. It's in your nature.

"I told you, don't sweat the details and just sit down." he completely ignored you, pushing you in the direction of the bike. You complied, sitting down on it awkwardly, not sure what to expect. He doesn't seem violent...

He sat down behind you, revving up the engine and just driving off without a care in the world.

"W-Wait!" you were shocked at the speed, grabbing onto him by instinct and missing the way his lips curved up at that.

"Where are you taking me?! I never consented to this!" you had to yell over the sound of the engine, shutting your eyes. He was right, it really is cold when you're riding on a motorcycle.

"And you know what I didn't consent to? That kiss." he replied and your face scrunched up a little, cringing at the not so distant memory. "But that's fine, because that means you're mine now."

"Huh?!" you finally opened your eyes, looking up at him. His expression was a little hard to make out since the only thing illuminating it was street lights that you were speeding past. Is he even following the speed limit?

"I value my sleep, you see. And that little stunt you pulled made me unable to fall asleep. So I figured I might as well give you a little visit." he placed a hand over you protectively, making you worry about your safety even more.

"Who would have thought the top of the class good girl would fall for me?" he looked down at you.

"I did not fall in love with you! It was a dare!" you shot back.

"Oh well, doesn't matter. You're my girl now. And that's that."

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

It is way too late in the night but I just had the urge..

May I have a hug? If so then \ovo/

-SleepyAnon

Hi SleepyAnon! Hope you have a great, and I see your requests! Very cool ideas - I'm super excited to work on them throughout the week😄

[zorrasucia]

can we get your take on the trapped inside the fridge trope? enemies to lovers vibes between reader and carmy? pls and congrats on 300 followers

Hello, Anon! Thank you ☺️💜

And yes definitely! I went for a version where they get trapped a week or so before opening night - I love Carmy with all my heart but he would be absolutely unfuckable that day lol

Send a request for my 300 followers celebration! 🥂

Michelin star chef Carmen Berzatto had already gone through two of the stages of grief after finding out that you two were trapped inside the walk in fridge. He had loudly declared 'this can't be happening' about twenty times, trying the handle over and over: denial. Then, he slammed the door with his fists and palms, cursing at the top of his lungs, screaming his throat raw for no one to hear: anger.

"Fucking manchild," you mumbled under your breath while he screamed through the phone, trying to get "the fridge guy" to get you two out.

You had been training at the kitchen of The Bear for the past couple of weeks, preparing for their opening, and your opinion of Carmy was less than stellar already.

"The fuck were you still doing here anyway?" he barked, like he had suddenly remembered you were there too.

You sighed.

"You asked me to stay, Chef," you emphasized. Was it mature and productive to play the blame game? No. But you were exhausted and cold and tired of Carmy's bullshit. "You asked me to re-label the produce because the tape was torn, not cut."

Carmy looked at the containers right in front of him, his gaze vacant as one tattooed finger traced the edges of torn out tape, one of the last few you had left to replace.

"Right," he exhaled. He seemed to have tired himself out. "What time is it?"

You checked your phone. "Quarter past midnight."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, fuck," you agreed, crossing your arms to stay warm.

Carmy looked at you, his blue eyes fixed on your face as a shiver went down your spine.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Just fine. Freezing myself to death is all," you snarked.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then quickly removed his chef whites, and offered them to you.

"I'm fine," you repeated but then a second shiver went through you. "Thanks, Chef," you accepted reluctantly. The fabric was warm from his body, smelling of aftershave and sweat - manly. You wished you didn't enjoy the scent as much as you did.

He put hands in his pockets, keeping warm now that he was only wearing his t-shirt. Your eyes studied the tattoos on his arms and hands trying to guess the meaning or beauty behind them, stubbornly refusing to break the heavy silence between you.

His phone chimed.

"It's, uh, Tony, the fridge guy," Carmy said. "Says he can be here in an hour."

"Plus however long he takes to get us out," you guessed. Carmy nodded. Then, he shivered.

Fuck.

You couldn't believe you were going to suggest this.

"Want a hug?" you offered, looking down.

"Mmm?" Carmy cocked his head, genuinely confused.

"I said, do you want a hug?" you repeated, arms uncrossing. "You're freezing and I'm freezing and we've got at least an hour and a half more of this bullshit."

He stood in silence for a whole minute.

"Alright."

He moved closer to you, hands by his sides, completely still, waiting for you to make the move. There was something endearing about it, you thought as you laced your arms around his wide shoulders, solid muscle under your palms. You were practically the same height, his curls tickled your cheek.

"This okay?" you asked.

"Yes, better," he agreed reluctantly, his voice vibrating through your chest.

You felt like you were holding a statue. Maybe it was a good thing - it would be a little fucked up if the Carmy Berzatto was eager to hold you tight and touch your body. However, a part of you, the part that loved his smell and liked the look of his arms, kind of hoped he would hug you back.

"You can hold me, if you want," you whispered.

He took a step closer and wrapped his arms around your waist, his exhale caressing your neck.

You stood there, in silence, for a while, unnaturally still. You rubbed your thumb over his shoulder for a bit, it made it feel more like a real hug and less awkward.

All of a sudden, Carmy cleared his throat and moved away.

"You okay?" you asked.

He turned his back to you, hands on his hips.

"I, uh, yes, I'm fine," he replied, voice choked up.

"I'm not going to report you to HR or anything, if that's what you're worried about," you mumbled, suddenly feeling very guilty. "Or if I made you uncomfortable-"

He shook his head. "No, no. It's not your-" he stopped himself.

"My f-fault?" you finished, shivering again. The cold seemed to double down now that his body wasn't shielding you and you wanted him back where he was.

"It isn't. It's just been a while," he ended cryptically, glancing over his shoulder towards you, face flushed even with the cold, rearranging his apron to better cover his crotch. And suddenly you understood. You didn't make him uncomfortable, if anything he was too comfortable in your embrace.

"Oh."

"Yeah," he looked up at the ceiling.

"Chef, it's fine," you tried to reassure him. He huffed incredulously. "It is."

Carmy ran his hands through his hair. You followed the lines of muscle you could guess under his t-shirt - it was a distracting sight. You were flushed down to the neck, warmth invading your belly, and it was way past midnight...

"Chef?" he only gave you a tense hum in response. "Can I help?"

"With what?" he replied brusquely. He was angry, again. He was hard for you and angry - why couldn't he just pick one?

"Never fucking mind," you rolled your eyes. "I was going to offer you a quick fuck but if you're going to be insufferable about that too then I guess you can will your boner away and die mad about it," you spat.

Carmy turned towards you with dark eyes.

"You weren't," he denied roughly. "Why would you? You weren't."

"Because I think you're hot and it feels nice being desired," you shrugged.

This wasn't about being in love or some bullshit, you had known each other for two weeks and you were pretty sure he hadn't really noticed you for most of that time. He was horny, you were willing, and you were both cold as fuck.

He took two steps and suddenly he was in your space, forehead almost touching yours.

"Would you still?" he asked simply, his breath tickling your lips.

"Yeah," you exhaled.

"Even with me being insufferable about it?" he insisted.

"Well, then I guess you better make me come," you dared him.

"Okay."

"Okay."

Carmy grabbed you in his arms and kissed you hard, cornering you against the shelves, his body warm and eager against yours. You ran your fingers through his hair, a little greasy from the day, but still soft and addicting to pull on. He groaned into your mouth. His nimble fingers untied his apron and yours, breaking a bruising kiss to throw them on the floor. He didn't attempt to remove any other piece of clothing.

"Not sure you've got your priorities straight," you sassed when he started kissing your neck and touching your breasts over your shirt.

He angled his hips so that you could feel his cock hard against your center. You moaned.

"Don't I?" he teased right back, smiling into your skin.

"Fuck you," you said without bite, panting as he ground his hips against yours. "Shouldn't feel this good," you mumbled hazily.

"Hmm?"

He seemed lost in it, breathing hard into the skin of your neck, the tips of his fingers tracing cold lines on the small of your back, his palms squeezing your ass greedily.

"It shouldn't feel this good to dry hump in a fucking walk-in," you finished your sentence with a breathy laugh.

Behind you, the shelves were shaking with the steady rhythm of Carmy grinding against you.

His blue eyes searched for yours. "I said I'd make you come. And I will," he panted. "But it's been a fucking long while and I need you to be good for me, okay?" His hands held your hips even tighter.

"Yes, Chef," you exhaled, holding on to his shoulders, opening your legs, and letting him use you.

His movements turned desperate, messy thrusts and low grunts as he stared into your eyes and chased his pleasure. He was breathing into your open mouth, drunk on lust, pupils blown.

"Let go. It's okay, let go," you said, one hand caressing his face.

Carmy let out a sharp groan and closed his eyes, holding you tighter as he came down from his high.

"Fuck," he exhaled on the side of your face, spent. You liked that he sounded soft and needy.

"Not so angry now," you teased, fingers carding through his hair.

He laughed and kissed your cheek, your jaw, your neck... His fingers unbuttoned your trousers with ease, and his right hand went inside your underwear unceremoniously.

You hissed at the cold.

"Kind of glad you didn't get me naked, actually," you admitted with a smile.

"Seems like we both enjoyed it just fine," Carmy goaded when his index traced your folds and found you soaking wet.

You couldn't come up with another biting remark, not with his finger inside you and his lips crushing yours. His thumb caressed your clit, doing lazy circles while his index curled inside you.

"Fuck!"

"Good?" he asked.

"More," you pleaded, becoming needy and monosyllabic, arching your back when his middle finger went inside you too.

Carmy swallowed your moans, humming encouragingly as you rode his hand.

"That's it, that's it," he whispered when your pussy started squeezing his fingers.

"Fuck, like that," you whined, rolling your eyes, fluttering around his knuckles, squeezing his shoulders, feeling a wave of pleasure leave you breathless.

You held him tight as you felt the aftershocks, a little confused that he hadn't removed his hand yet but enjoying the feeling of fullness.

His thumb pressed on your clit again, sensitive after your release but still electrified. You let out a low moan.

"I can stop," Carmy offered just as his fingers arched inside you again, making you roll your eyes and shake in his embrace.

"Don't stop," you begged.

It was quicker this time. He had you figured out and ready, pliant under his touch, one leg hoisted over his hip as you unraveled for him.

"Yes, like that," he mumbled as your hips started moving with a will of their own, your pussy tight around his fingers, everything turning white and hot for a moment. He kissed you through it - messy and open mouthed, enjoying your undoing almost as much as you did.

There was a couple of minutes of beautiful silence between you, just your heavy breathing interrupting it.

He kissed the side of your face as he took his hand out of your underwear, wet to the palm. He cleaned it thoroughly with one of the dish towels he kept at the sides of his apron. You blushed at the sight.

"I can wash that for you," you offered.

"No, need," he said, tucking it inside his pocket. His blue eyes took you in completely. "Thank you, Chef."

You nodded, biting your lip.

The fridge guy arrived shortly after that. You two spent the small hours of the morning sat on the floor, not talking, not arguing. Carmy's hand shielded your face from the bright sparks of metal cutting metal.

Things would go back to normal. He would be insufferable in the morning, no doubt, screaming and demanding, losing his mind over torn out tape. But you could enjoy this, having him soft and tired, his arm around your shoulders, knowing well what his fingers felt like three knuckles deep inside you. 

[holybibly]

You're so right on your possessive piece on san, seonghwa, and mingi. Especially mingi that boy is so possessive! And he loves attention. Hard thoughts here, just imagine him catching you staring at all his rings on his big hands OR THOSE THIGHS. And him teasing you about it cause you're so cute when you blush. Also pussy drunk mingi >>> he eats out on the counter, in his studio, in the bed, everywhere. Your writing is so amazing and it's so fun to see all your thoughts through hard thoughts week 💚💚

Just a reminder, the hard / unholy hours will continue for the rest of the week.

Thank you, darling. I'm trying so hard to write more and better so that you can continue to enjoy my work. Frankly, I love praise, but I'm always terribly embarrassed by it. But I really appreciate everything you've said 💖💖💖

And now it's time for a bit of talk about my toxic boys. I hit the nails on the heads, didn't I? I have a feeling that practically all of my bunnies are of the same opinion. They give off that vibe, don't they? And I should probably just write something for them. I'm kind of crazy about this concept and I'm not ashamed of it at all.

Oh Mingi, he's definitely a pussy eater and yes, he's fucking drunk on it. (Slightly off-topic, but I'm sure Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Hongjoong feel the same way. As if they want spent a lifetime between your legs. San is definitely an oral fixation and enthusiast. As for Yunho, Yeosang and Jongho, I think they don't mind eating you. But it's not high on their list of priorities.)

I think that at the beginning of your relationship he would have been a little bit shy about it. But, hell, he'll find it harder to control himself the more time you spend together. Poor guy just wants to stick his tongue up your sweet little cunt, sue him for that.

So when he finally gets to do it, all hell is going to break loose. God, he can never get enough of you, can he? He's got this wild hunger inside him. It's clawing at him from the inside. He needs you so badly.

You're his perfect breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

"It's all just for me." Mingi moans. He leans forward and licks a thick strip of your cunt. You cry out at the hot sensation, at the wet and skillful tongue sliding through your folds, and your head falls back onto the pillow as you feel his fingers stretch your labia to give him better access.

He pulls away for a split second, just long enough for him to hum lowly and mutter under his nose, "So damn wet and only mine." Your hands are gripping the sheets, and he's even more enthusiastic as he dives back in, opening you wide for his insatiable mouth.

Your nipples are so hard they hurt, and your head is spinning from all the sensations. He's driving you crazy, but for Mingi, this is just a warm-up; he hasn't even started to eat you for real yet.

Mingi swirls his tongue greedily around your hole a few times before going deep and fucking you too fast with his talented tongue, enough to make your walls clench tightly around him. After a few more thrusts, he pulls back and uses a long, slow lick to catch the large amount of fluid that is leaking out of you, his tongue pressing down flat and heavy on you. He licks you like an animal, panting and growling at the taste of you. When he reaches your clit, he gently glides his tongue over the sensitive bud several times, finally pulling it into his mouth to suck on it, causing you to moan loudly and desperately.

"Oh, fuck. Damn, M-Mingi. Oh God!"

You swear you can feel him smiling at you with a smug and lecherous smile as he returns to your hole to start all over again, but with even more desire and hunger. His guttural moan sends a wave of destructive vibrations through you.

He's pretty damn good at it.

You lose track of how many times he repeats this process until the excitement overwhelms you so much that you think you may die.

Since he started fucking you with his tongue, you have no idea how much time has passed. Hours, maybe even days. Mingi certainly has the look of a man who could do this forever.

"I can't do it anymore." You say, and the desperation in your voice is so clear to hear. 

"Do you want to cum, doll?" He mumbles, pressing his cheek against your inner thigh, his gaze so foggy and distracted that he will be completely whipped for you. "You can do it. If you want to. Cum for me, doll. Let me drink you more."

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Just sexual tension in this chap hehe, more explicit as we go. Gojo is really a dick at first FYI

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 4,165

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ��� Satoru Gojo is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished. This was my first gojo fic so maybe a Lil less put together than my current ones

Masterlist-

Chapter 1

You looked up at him from your desk. You were tired, so damn tired. You needed a fucking break, a long one. Your mind wanders to that vacation away from Tokyo that will never happen, not because you don’t have vacation days or money. Nope, it was  because you work far too fucking much, twelve to sixteen hour days sometimes. For him, your damn boss, Satoru Gojo.

Always asking you to stay late, always running his errands, saving his ass, covering for him. Writing speeches, making presentations, finding him dates even. When Gojo wanted something, he got it, and it didn't matter if it ruined every plan you ever had, you had to get it done for him.

He ran casinos, owned a hotel, a nightclub, you name it, Satoru Gojo owned it. He’d inherited some from his family but mostly he was self made. Even the tower you worked in, Kamo Tower, was one of the best in the city. Everything Gojo touched seemed to turn to gold, or better yet platinum.

You had been so excited two years ago to be his intern, then ecstatic when you quickly moved up the ranks to be his head assistant. You made good money, enough to send home to your family and take care of them too. But you literally were constantly at that man's beck and call.

Your tired eyes lower as you rest your chin on your hand for a moment, for even last night at two am you'd had to run to his fucking rescue.

You were asleep, but the phone never stops fucking buzzing.

Dick boss: I need you.

You: no.

Dick boss: triple OT pay?

You: fuck. What is it?

Dick Boss: I'm in a bit of a bind…

The bind? Three passed out naked women in his bed, and a room destroyed, that he needed to get fixed so he could sleep. Yeah.

The night before? Well he had urgently needed you to pick out his outfit for his soiree, he was too coked out to pick apparently. And Gojo Satoru had so many three piece suits, ties and shoes, it was actually disgusting.

Nanami Kento walks up to you, overworked from his own boss in the building, a trait you two share as head assistants. He hands you a cup of coffee in a styrofoam cup, with your name written on it in sharpie, clearly from one of the coffee shops nearby. If you had time to have a fucking life you would have flirted with him, for sure. Maybe he would have, too?

Dirty blonde and handsome, his suit stretched across his muscles just so… and fuck if he didn’t look like he needed a damn vacation too.

“Long night?” Kento asked, grabbing you out of your thoughts, an amused and tired expression on his face. You sigh, nodding.

“Thank you for the coffee. I owe ya one.” You let the sweet liquid hit your lips, eyes peering to Gojo's office. There was some lady in there, pretty as fuck in some crazy attempt at business stripper, but he for some reason was scowling at you. What, you dared to sip coffee and not work for two minutes?

“Not at all. Happy birthday.” 

“Shit that’s today?” You teased, but you did know.

“We don’t really get birthdays.”

“Haha no we don’t. But thank you!”

“Of course. Take care of yourself okay? Gojo is… ugh.” Nanami looked disgusted as he shook his head, pushing up his fancy glasses. You couldn’t help but giggle at that as Nanami walked off.

Your phone rings, because of course Gojo can't just come to you, you must go to him. Your eyes roll.

“Yes, Sir?” You answer the phone, tapping your glittery manicured nails on your desk, the one treat you gave yourself.

“My office.” That silken command may have excited most women, shit, most human beings, but it was a source of annoyance for you.

“Coming.”

You sighed, hanging up the phone and sipping your coffee. The office coffee usually went cold daily with the amount of shit you had to do. You smooth down your dress, adjusting the buckle of your belt just a tad before walking towards the giant glass office.

Gojo’s office had floor to ceiling windows surrounding it that had a ridiculous view of the cityscape below. You all were on the top floor of Kamo Tower, after all. The air was filled with a faint scent, woodsy and fresh, a signature fragrance that lingered in the space, distinctive to Gojo.

As you enter, you see Gojo himself reclining casually in a lavish chair, his signature Gucci sunglasses on, covering those ridiculous blue eyes. Which you honestly appreciated because he made shit hard to focus, even after two years of working as his assistant.

“Sir?” You stand there cautiously, thinking of just putting in your notice then and fucking there, like that dream you had in your two hours of sleep.

“Status update on my meetings?”

“I sent you them all.” He smirked, arrogant. You grit your teeth. “You have two meetings today, Sir, one for the new hotel partnership, then you have a meeting with Mr. Suguru about your casino. And of course, you have your event tonight.”

“Speaking of that, I need you to come with me tonight for the charity ball.” You sigh, shutting the door behind you, resting your aching head against it.

“I asked for tonight off.” You murmur, and Gojo scoffs, grinning, damn fangs like some vampire glinting from the sun that beamed in. He stands, stretching his long elegant limbs, before he walks closer to you, making the scent of him waft through your senses.

“I'll pay you well. Plus you’ll be going as my date for the event, not going to make you actually work. You'll get to relax and shit. Drinks and food.”

“As your date?” You blink, pursing your lips.

“I know, it’s kinda a dream scenario.” He laughed at his own joke, a habit he certainly had.

“Since when does CEO Satoru need a date? Especially me . I can just arrange you a date like I always do.”

“It's a delicate partnership and I need someone who is smart. Not eye candy. I need you, law school girl. Plus you’re American, and a lot of the people there are too. So it’s a no brainer.” You sighed, the comment about eye candy biting.

Men hit on you pretty frequently, any time you weren’t working, which you could not say was very often. But of course Gojo banged models on the regular, and you had no time to look like a model, you barely had time to slap on some mascara and concealer every day to hide how tired you were.

“So you don't need anyone pretty… is what you're saying.”

He pauses then, frowning at you. “You're very pretty.” He'd never said that. He'd barely complimented your work. You catch your breath; looking up at him, curious how he had gotten just an inch away.

“‘Not eye candy.’”

“We'll no, you dress kinda boring… like business and shit. Not sexy at all. I mean I’ve never seen you not in a business dress unless it’s at night and I call you, then you wear pajama shorts and shit?”

You snort. “I would dress up if I had a life. All I do is work.”

“Exactly, that’s what I mean by not ‘eye candy’. How you dress, not your looks. But I'll make sure your outfit looks killer, no need to thank me.” Gojo winks at you, lowering his shades, those insane cerulean eyes making you overheat against your will. Big and glittering with silver, the irises the prettiest blue that the earth could scarcely recreate. Eyes that made anyone do anything he wanted.

You were almost immune to that by now.

“It's my fucking birthday and you want me to do overtime?” You demand, and frowns with those full lips.

“Birthday?” Gojo looks confused, as if you should not have one of them, for it’s inconvenient.

“Yeah. Twenty-sixth.”

He evaluates you. “Why did I think you were like twenty two?”

“I’m not sure. If I was I wouldn’t even have my law degree yet, baby face maybe. But it’s my third birthday here, and you never give me the day off. I will absolutely not put in OT.”

“What, you have plans, hot shot?” Gojo chuckles, his tone mocking.

No. Sure don't. “Yep.” You lie. He knows.

“Cancel em.” He shakes a hand dismissively and you scowl.

“No.” You cross your arms under your breasts, and his gaze darts down for the briefest of moments.

“No?” No one turned Gojo down. No one ever told the gorgeous CEO no. His six foot four frame hunched as he placed an arm on one side of you, peering down, frown still on his handsome features. You bravely glare back up at him.

“No. Gojo, I'm really exhausted, and I just want to have fun and actually relax for my birthday.”

“Have fun with me. And make killer money. Win win.”

“That's work. Not fun.”

“Hmm.” He tilts your chin up with his long fingers, making you peer up at him, surprised at the contact. “I'll make it fun. Promise. Then I'll give you the day off tomorrow. Deal?”

“I could find you a smart American girl? Eye candy too.”

“You're my best, though, I need you.”

Bastard.

“Ugh. Fine.”

He grins, and you catch a breath as he backs away. “Good. I'll have the outfit brought to your apartment later? I’m assuming you don’t have anything fancy enough for this one.”

“Probably not. Fine. Need my size?”

His eyes are drinking you in as he smirks. “You think I haven’t gathered your size by now?” Your cheeks overheat. Though you’re used to him, at the end of the day you still had a damn vagina, and it reacted to him. He chuckled deeply, turning away and waving a hand. “You're dismissed.”

Just like that, your birthday night was just work. Work for Gojo.

***

“Can’t wait to put in my two weeks ugh.” You grumble to yourself as you finish up your makeup, for once having fun with it. If you had to work your birthday you would absolutely look gorgeous for it. Lashes, winged liner, red lips.

The dress he had ordered laid in a satin box on your white day bed. You sigh, opening it finally, and you blink rapidly as you look at the gown encased in baby blue and white tissue paper, the colors of Gojo himself. You gently pulled out the gown and most of your irritation died off.

Black and decked with sequins, it glittered in the light, it was a velvety fabric, as soft as a caress. As you slid it on it glided over your curves, accentuating the nip at your waist, the arch of your hips. The neckline plunged ridiculously low, revealing a generous amount of cleavage that you typically kept under wraps at work. You wonder how Gojo knew you had just so much up top…

Pervert is what he was.

Pervert with killer taste.

The dress had a slit that went dangerously up one of your well toned thighs, exposing nearly all of one leg, while the rest of the dress hit the floor. It was if he truly knew every measurement you had, for the dress could not have hit any better. Those damn analyzing eyes of his…

You spun to look at the back of the dress, which dipped daringly as well, exposing an expanse of skin, from shoulder blades down to the dimples on your lower back. You rummage through your little cherry wood jewelry box, eyeing to see what would work with the dress. Luckily, everything went well with black, so you snatched up a pretty silver cross necklace and earrings.

A text pops up, and you read it.

Dick Boss: Waiting out front in the car.

You: Just a few.

You slip on your shoes and spritz some body spray on, your favorite from Victoria’s Secret you save for special things, then slide on a pair of black heeled boots, contemplating putting on underwear. Did it matter what kind? It wasn’t like you’d had any dick since like college at this point. And you definitely weren’t fucking Gojo, since neither of you were interested.

You because you saw the girls he fucked. Him because… you weren’t ‘arm candy’. Or a dumb ass bimbo. Sometimes you wished you were, since they seemed sweet and happy in life, while you drowned.

Dick Boss: I’m waiting…”

Fucking Gojo. Ugh. You decide to slide on some lacy boy shorts, just in case that slit did go too high you’d have some coverage. Peeking one last time at the mirror, you had to admit you looked beautiful. You text Gojo.

You: Coming now.

You locked up and headed down the stairs of the apartment building, and there was Kiyotaka, Gojo’s driver, opening the door of the black limo for you. Kiyotaka, who somehow was your age now. That boggled your mind more than Nanami. Gojo wore people out, very clearly, but even you had it easier than Kiyotaka.

“My lady.” He said sweetly, and you smiled at him, sliding in, and there Gojo was across from you, long arms spread across the backs of the seat, his head rested back so that his throat was exposed. His head snapped down, and he looked right at you, no sunglasses, only those eyes. His lips parted, and you tensed, prepared for some lewd comment or rude one.

He blinked those white spiky lashes, arms sliding down as Kiyotaka shut the door, gaze taking you in ever so slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. You felt yourself holding your breath as it lazily traveled down and back up your body, clutching your little black evening bag tightly.

“You look…” He trailed off, shaking his head a bit.

“Thank you for the dress.” You cut him off. He exhaled, nodding.

“Of course. Consider it my birthday gift. You look… really fucking hot.”

You giggled at that. Not beautiful or breathtaking. But you’d take it. “Thank you, the dress is so beautiful.”

“Your body is that banging and you hide it like that?” He was somehow right next to you now, and you shiver a bit at the nearness. “I should reprimand you.”

You roll your eyes. “I can’t dress like this at work.”

“You sure the fuck can. I’m the boss, I say so.” His fingertips trailed down your shoulder, and it sent tingles through your body. Why was he so close? “I’m buying you a new wardrobe.”

“The fuck you are. I like to be professional, unlike you.” You smack his hand off errantly, and your bare shoulder grew cold without the touch.

“You do really look good.” You took in his outfit, a black tux, which fit his slim muscles perfectly. It was some shit Bruce Wayne would wear. Maybe Gojo was some super hero or villain. It would fit.

“You do too. You always do.”

“I know.” He winked at you, leaning forward to snatch up champagne and pop it, pouring you both glasses. You took one, letting the bubbles tickle your nose, taking a sip of the sweet drink, moaning softly and shutting your eyes.

“Delicious.” You lick your lower lip and find him a breath away. You don’t move, but you’re frozen, confused as he looks at you like he never has. “Satoru?”

“Are you really thinking of quitting?” He asked softly. You have never seen Gojo like this.

“How did you know?”

“I know everything, baby girl.” He gently runs his long fingers through your hair, a rare frown on his lips.

“Baby girl? The fuck, Satoru. Yes I was thinking of it, an seducing me is not going to change my mind. Is that the point of this?” You demand, irritated, and against your better judgement, fucking horny. His eyes study your own seriously.

“If that was my intention, you’d damn sure know.” Each word was bit out, distinctive, and his hand tightened in your hair, far too strong, yanking your head back. You scowl up at him, your hands clenched into fists.

“Oh, would I?” You challenged him, notching your chin up a bit. He laughed but it was without humor.

“How many women have you heard me fuck in my office? How many have you had to send home? You think I don’t know how to fuck the shit out of you if I wanted to. You wouldn’t even be able to walk.”

Gojo’s whisper was against your lips, and you could taste whiskey on his breath, mixed with his mints he constantly sucked on. He wasn’t touching you, but he was so close you could feel him…

“I won’t fuck you though, so what’s the point of even joking about it. You don’t want me anyway. Not your type.” He snorted, and one of his big hands came to your waist, touching the bare skin of your back and wreaking havoc on every sense you’ve ever had.

“You know my type?” You nod. His thumb brushed under your breast, an action that made the peaks of your breasts tighten, aching against the sequined gown. Damn if his gaze didn’t drop down. You cursed yourself. “The women who entertain me aren’t necessarily my type.”

“Hmm.” It grew difficult to focus. You sip your champagne, leaning back a bit, but Gojo’s grip stays. “It doesn’t matter. You’re talking out of your ass. Too much cocaine tonight?”

His grip tightened, and it made you gasp, looking up at his darkened eyes in the dim light of the limo. “I haven’t had any. I’m just pretty fucking irritated my best assistant wants to leave. You’re ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful!” You snort at that, tossing back the champagne and grabbing at his hand, his wrist, trying to get him off of you. “How the fuck, Satoru? I literally do everything for you!”

“And I pay you damn good!”

“I know. I’d rather be broke somewhere than do sixteen hour days. It’s my damn birthday and here I am!”

“As if you really had plans. You have no friends and no life.”

“Bullshit.” You grit your teeth, shoving at his hard chest. “That’s because I have no damn time! You think I wouldn’t have a boyfriend or something by now?”

“Maybe that’s your problem, why you’re so bitchy and stuck up all the damn time. You need to get fucked good.”

You slapped him then. Slapped your Boss. Slapped Satoru Gojo.

His hand caught your wrist, brutally squeezing, pale cheek just hinted with pink from your mark.

“Ring a little true?”

“I can get fucked if I want.” You yank your hand back.

“I didn’t say that. Clearly you can get fucked. It’s just you don’t even want to and you blame it on my hours, as if you were the type.”

“I’d fuck Nanami Kento if I had any damn time.” Gojo’s eyes widened at that, and his grip on your waist became brutal. “Yep. Sure would. He’s built as fuck, oh and he remembered my birthday. If either of us had time I sure would. So does that answer it for you?”

Gojo bared his teeth at her, a little blue vein in his temple popping out. Your heart beats in your chest, brutally, the thudding loud in your ears. “You… would fuck… Nanami… Kento?”

Each of his words were forced through his teeth.

Ah, you made him mad.

Good.

“Who wouldn’t? He’s hot.” You try to shrug casually.

“Out of anyone in the office?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Including me.”

You open your mouth to say yes, but you know it’s not fucking true. Of course you’d have fucked Gojo, if he wasn’t a dick boss, if he was just a dude…

Look at him.

“Cat got your tongue?” His free hand caught your chin, forcing your gaze to his piercing one. You gulp, licking your lips.

“No.”

“No, what?” His voice was a wicked caress.

“No… not including you. Goddammit. Is that what you want to hear? That I’m not blind? Of course you’re attractive, and you know it, stupid!”

He scoffed. “You’re childish.”

“You!” You shoved at him again, and he let you go, grabbing your glass and refilling it, watching you like a hawk. “It changes nothing. I am planning to leave. I will find a replacement, someone even better than me.”

“There is no one better.” He sounded sincere, a rare thing for Gojo, emotion cracking in his voice as he downed his own glass.

“You think fucking me will keep me as your damn assistant?”

“It’s worth a shot. I’m the best fuck there is.” He shrugged, some of that casual demeanor coming back, and you wanted to yell at your body for its reaction.

“It won’t happen.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“You’re my boss!”

“But you’re leaving.”

“I…”

“Hmm? You seem at a loss for words.” You scowl, looking out the window as the lights flickered by.

“Are we there yet?”

“Childish.”

“Says you!”

“You need a good orgasm. Or ten. Get you to be less of a stuck up nag.”

“I do not! And I am not!”

“You do, and you are.”

“I orgasm plenty, thanks!” You felt your body on fire at that, and Gojo couldn’t look more satisfied, like the Cheshire fucking cat, the grin as wide as it could go, running his hand through his silken white locks.

“Oh, do tell.” He practically purred.

“Cut the shit, Satoru. You’ve never talked like this in the years I’ve worked with you, where the fuck do you get off?”

“I get off in women. Or on them.” He shrugged, enjoying your open mouth, once again lost for words.

“You know I did not mean that!”

“Where do you get off? On a dildo maybe.” You blinked, eyebrows low in a scowl, wanting to hit him again. “No, don’t look the type. Maybe a rose toy. Hmm… or just these little things.” Gojo lifted your hand, already small but ridiculously small in his own, swallowed by him. “They don’t hit deep enough, do they?” His whisper shook you to your core.

You burned, breathless, as he held out his own hand to yours, fingers so fucking long they rivaled the length of a dude��s dick. Likely larger than the couple of dude’s in college, which was about all of your experience. He grinned as you stared on, palm hot and hard against your own.

“I… you…” You wanted to cuss him out. Quit right then.

You also wanted his fingers in you.

“I could get you off, put you in a good mood. We don’t have to have sex for that.” His hand took your own, putting your hand by your heat, between your thighs.

“Why… are you…act- acting like this?” You managed to breathe out, but you had no energy to move away from him, or shove his hand off. Because if you were being honest with yourself, you’d love to ride your frustration out on him.

“Maybe I realize how much I need you to stay as my assistant.” Gojo’s supple lips kiss down your jaw, firm but delicate, as his hand brutally grabs yours and shoves it against yourself, moaning in your ear. “Is my assistant already hot for me? Are you that easy to get wet?”

“Fuck off.”

It’s a whisper. You want it. And you hate him. You hate that your pussy is pulsing against your joined fingers through the barrier of your panties, that the moan in your ear made you wonder what he sounded like when he came. Gojo slid his own finger against your panties, pausing, moaning again, pulling back to look at you.

He was gorgeous.

Your chest rose and fell with your breath.

“Fuck.” He whispered, and something was just different. You saw Gojo with women, always so self assured. But something seemed surprised, vulnerable, when his long finger pressed against the damp sticky fabric, just grazing your clit. You arched your hips up, and his fingertip ran up slightly, pressing more, and Gojo’s lips were just a breath away…

“We’re here, Sir, my Lady.”

Fuck.

You two shot apart, and you struggled to catch your breath, adjusting your dress, gulping down one more glass for good measure. Gojo adjusted his pants, not even looking at you, clearing his throat. You cursed as you saw his tie.

“You can’t tie a tie for shit, Satoru.” You leaned over to him, pulling it apart gently and re-tying it. You noticed his Adam's apple bob up and down. He was quiet. Satoru Gojo, quiet. “There.”

“Thanks.” He said gruffly, and your eyes met.

What the fuck just happened?

Kiyotaka opened the door, exposing them to some cool night air, and you got out, curious just how the fuck this birthday night was going to go.

Chapter 2

Completed fic on ao3, will post chaps on here as well

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/140629990

[holllandtrash]

in you, i trust | mick schumacher social media au

pairing: mick schumacher x reader

after the it couple of formula 1 go months without any interactions, the fans start to speculate what's going on. there's no way mick and you are over...right?

wagupdatesf1

liked by jemmaf1, formula1wags and 23,403 others

tagged: dbook & yourusername

wagupdatesf1 (ex?)Girlfriend of Mercedes Reserve Driver, Mick Schumacher seen with a man during her Cabo trip - pictures taken 14 hours apart

view all 315 comments

orangelando "with a man" YOU MEAN DEVIN BOOKER

44hamilton how does she go from f1 driver and certified lover boy mick to a phoenix suns basketball player HOW DO THEY EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER

mickisbabyboy so does this mean her and mick are over...? 🥺

michschumacher added to their story

yourusername

liked by riabish, lissiemackintosh and 54,203 others

yourusername i'm doing better than i ever was

view all 59 comments

schumyys only here to see if mick commented

boxboxpls remember when mick used to comment 500 heart eye emojis i miss those days

sebbymick am i reading into the caption too much or is this her fr announcing she's single

f1

liked by mickschumacher, mercedesamgf1 and 580,024 others

f1 Mick Schumacher is going to drive father Michael's @mercedesamgf1 W02 from the 2011 season at the Goodwood Festival of Speed! ✨

Now this, is special 🥹

view all 892 comments

mercedesamgf1 can't wait to see it!!

formulafanclub sooo exciting!!! complimentary tissues better be given with each ticket purchase

wtf1jemma so if yn doesn't show up to the goodwood festival of speed then we know something's up

mercedesamgf1

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 312,384 others

tagged: lewishamilton & georgerussell

mercedesamgf1 Blimey! It’s British GP Race Week at Silverstone. ❤️🤍💙

view all 975 comments

freepracticespls Y/N LIKED THE PHOTO THIS IS GOOD RIGHT

lewishamilton ❤️

lightsoutmick if y/n isn't there this weekend i will actually throw myself onto the track at lights out she HAS to be there

yourusername

liked by landonorris, mickschumacher and 36,024 others

yourusername good vibes good friends good city

view all 236 comments

whoislewis it has officially been 5 months since we got any mick content from y/n

formulanever no i think it's been 6

samgoesracing BESTIE ARE YOU STILL WITH MICK OR NOT

mickschumacher added to their story

yourusername

liked by mickschumacher, dbook and 76,203 others

yourusername As many of you know, I spent majority of 2021 and 2022 traveling the world with Mick for formula 1. Because of that, my life was put on hold. While I cherish those days, I lost sight of who I was. 

Six months ago, Mick and I amicably decided to take a break. While the decision wasn’t easy, it was what was best for both of us as we both were in transitional points in our lives. During this time, I have traveled the world, for myself, and started to journal what I learned from locals, friends and strangers. Early on into this journey, I realized that my experiences were something that should be shared as I know we all go through times times when we feel lost and unsure of who we are. 

‘In Me, I Trust’ is available now and is a collection of my stories, thoughts and advice. I hope you take what you need from it ♡ 

view all 728 comments

dbook 10/10 stars

yourusername dev you're only saying that because there's a whole page dedicated to you dbook only a page??? i thought i had a whole chapter

slowdowninthepits SHE WAS WRITING A BOOK THIS WHOLE TIME!! sneaky sneaky

kissformick wait so does this mean her and mick are officially over 🥺🥺🥺 we really are children of divorce

mickschumacher

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 414,500 others

mickschumacher worth the wait

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paddockbabes THE BOOK WAS WORTH THE WAIT OR SHE WAS

hamilgrussell IS THAT AN OLD PICTURE OR A NEW ONE I CAN'T TELL

0304mclarenss stop did y/n really send him a personalized copy im sobbing

ricciardoscafe "much like this book has found its way to you, i know my love will too" THAT MEANS THEY'RE GETTING BACK TOGETHER RIGHT?? RIGHT???/ SAY YES RIGHT NOW

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, dbook and 73,22 others

tagged: mickschumacher

yourusername in you, i trust

view all 833 comments

mickschumacher did you re-name your book?

yourusername no that's the sequel, limited copies though, probably just for your eyes only

mcnorris all is right in the world!! mom and dad are reunited!!!

lovelylewis only y/n would write a book on being single and how to grow while being alone and then go right back to mick

formulanever i don't blame her

haven't done a smau in a while, hope ya'll liked it ♡

[darkest-depravity]

Two Forms of Desperation

I'd love to keep you in a chastity cage for weeks, and tease you every single day. You're a kept woman, of course, but that doesn't mean the teasing needs to stop when I go to work. I'll leave you with a remote vibe inside your cage and a plug in your ass and steadily edge you all day, every day. You'd better not fucking fall behind on your housework because of this. But you're such a good girl, and I know that you fear me even more than you want me, so you don't.

I'll watch you deteriorate as a human being. Watch you debase yourself, so frantically desperate for any kind of release. Watch you devolve into wrenching sobs as you cling to my feet, not daring to glance up at me for fear of meeting my cold eyes, indifferent to your suffering.

Then, one day, you're doing dishes. Your whole face feels puffy and tight from crying, but still, the tears flow down your cheeks as the pain in your cage remains unbearable. You look so broken. That's when I decide to take you. I grab a fistful of your hair and drag you to the living room, throwing your body to the ground and your face into the carpet. You feel an overwhelming surge of relief as I unlock the cage, and all you can do is whimper, "Thank you, Goddess" over and over in a frail, choked little voice. I don't start slow. I fuck you harder than I've ever fucked you before. I keep the vibe on you and turn up the intensity to its maximum. The effect is instantaneous. The most incredible orgasm you've ever experienced in your worthless little life and fresh tears of joy stream down your face as you're completely overcome with pleasure the likes of which you never could have even imagined.

But then I don't stop. I slow down and lower the vibration just enough for your body to recover between orgasms, then ramp it up to maximum again. Over and over, shuddering tidal waves of pleasure burst through your entire being. Your body convulses and you feel like every single one of your muscles is spasming out of control. It's too much. It's too much. Soon, each wave begins to decline in pleasure and the sensation shifts to pain. It hurts now. Every thrust sends a stabbing pain through your body, and every orgasm depletes you more and more of energy you didn't even think you had left. You beg me to stop. I ignore you. You scream and wail and cry and beg and feel as though your body is being torn apart. All of your senses seem to blacken and some instinct drives you to get away, to please make it stop, but I'm just so much stronger than you and I've already left you so weak. I hold you down and push your face into the floor, then fuck you even harder. Somewhere in the only minute rational corner of your mind you have left, you wonder how I could possibly be fucking you harder than I was before.

This goes on for what feels like hours. What began as heaven has twisted into hell. Eventually, your screaming ceases and you become silent, accepting the piercing pain that rips through your body with each thrust. This is what penetration feels like. You forget who you are. You become an unthinking husk.

Finally, I stop.

I collapse on the floor next to you, pulling your small, violently trembling body into mine, and kiss your neck so softly. I stroke your nipples and caress every inch of your round softness so gently. I tell you over and over how perfect you are, how wonderfully you did, and how much I love you. I know you're not strong enough to stand, so I lift you up in a bridal carry and take you to the bed. I make you drink water and I cook you your favorite meal. We watch one of your comfort movies as you melt into my arms and freshly sob. I coo reassurances and stroke your hair, and you cling to me so tight that your knuckles turn pale. Finally, mercifully, the emotion slowly subsides and you drift off into the heaviest and most restful sleep you've ever had.

When you wake up the next morning, you find two things: a plate of breakfast and a hot cup of coffee on the nightstand made just how you like it, and the chastity belt locked around your waist.

[sunshine-theseus]

Media Day | Platonic!Aitana Bonmati x Reader

Words: 1.2k Summary: everyone hates when you two get paired up on media day – please I know they didn’t score against Wolfsburg in the particular game mentioned, pretend they did Requested by @onandkfk - i'm sorry this isn't as good as i was hoping it to be but i hope you like it!

Media days could be tough. Interviewers or challenges could be awkward and sometimes you just don’t click with the people around you. Obviously all of the team worked well with each other, but if there were bad vibes from the visitors it threatened to ruin everything.

That’s why you and Aitana paired up whenever you could. And people hated it.

The two of you were rather respectful, reserved in comparison to the general Barcelona Femení image. Well that was before you discovered how much you enjoyed each other’s company.

You joined Barcelona from Atletico Madrid in 2020 as somewhat of a ‘child prodigy’. It left a sour taste in many people’s (fans) mouths, leaving one of Barca’s biggest rivals of the time only to join the ‘enemy’. You were too nervous to put yourself out there in a team like Barcelona, not knowing many of them despite having just had your first national team, so the first week or so was rather lonely. When not training, your head was buried in a book with headphones perched over your ears, or homework resting on your lap.

Eventually Aitana extended a hand to you in training, taking you under her wing. Being 16 at the time, you became basically stitched to her side. Jona tried to separate you when he first became head coach, despite having been witnessing your sibling like relationship as assistant coach for months beforehand, but quickly found there was no use. You worked well with everyone, often spending time with Mapi and Alexia or Clàudia when Aitana had something else to do, but you always found your way back to her at the end of the day.

It was a similar situation on media days. Everyone got paired up or rotated between a few people, you and Aitana included, but you always managed to find a way to pair up or sit and watch each other for majority of the day.

-

“Please don’t pair me up with them again Jona, please. Put Keira with them, it’s like a group of siblings when they’re together.” You let out a giggle as Patri begs to be switched out for the game.

“It’s just a little ‘who knows who better’ challenge, how bad can it be?” a hand lands sympathetically on her shoulder before he takes his leave for a press conference about tomorrow’s UWCL game against Benfica.

The midfielder takes a seat to the left of Aitana, and jokingly wipes her hands against her shorts.

“Estoy muy nervosa entre estas dos” (I’m very nervous between these two) she lets out a breathy laugh, looking down the lens of the camera as a silent plea of help as our voices muddle together in protest.

“¿Por qué? ¡Nosotras somos como ángeles Patri!” (Why? We are like angels Patri!)

“No hay razón para estar!” (there is no reason to be!)

“You will find a way to traumatise me I swear. But let’s get this over with!”

-

“Hola culers! I am Patri.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“… and Aitana Bonmatí?” laughs break out from the whole crew, including you and Patri, as Aitana’s face twists in confusion toward you.

“Well I wasn’t going to say your name for you was I?”

“I thought you were saying both… let’s go again.” A chuckle slips out before you try to redo the intro.

“Hi! I am Patri Guijarro.”

“I’m Y/N L/N”

“And Aita-” she cuts herself off and begins to laugh again, falling against your side.

“Qué poco profesional, verdad?” (so unprofessional right?) you stare directly into the camera before looking for a joking confirmation from Patri and the camera crew, who all nod in agreement.

“Sí, stick to fútbol.” You pat her on the back before trying the introduction again. Four more times.

-

“What was Y/N’s first start for Barcelona? And when?” you send Aitana a playful look as Patri reads the question off the card.

“You better know this Tana or we may have a problem. We had our first link up on the pitch during this game, it was a banger goal.”

“No I know. Of course I know.” She scribbles something down on the whiteboard.

“3, 2, 1. Times up, I hope you know the answer for your own sake Aitana.” Patri glances over at the older girl’s board and snickers.

“Ay she got it wrong heh? She has very poor memory.”

“I do not! Stop lying to everyone.”

“Okay okay Aitana what did you write?” shamefully, she flips her board around.

“Real Madrid, January 2021.” Your mouth falls open and your eyes bulge out of your head.

“Tana! My first start was against Wolfsburg in the UWCL semi-final in August 2020. You lobbed the ball from the mid-line and I headed it straight passed the goalie. I can’t believe you don’t remember that! Your age really is making you forget things.” A poor replication of a solemn expression is plastered on your face while Aitana tries defends herself.

“I have many of your achievements and milestones to remember hermanita! It is hard when you are such a successful player.” Despite Aitana referring to you has her little sister for quite some time, it manages to pull at your heart.

“I suppose I can excuse it this once.” With a roll of your eyes, you move onto the next question.

“How many major trophies does Aitana have? Country, club and junior and senior teams combined.”

“Dios mío, which ones doesn’t she have? You know I have to deep search our apartment once a week for her Ballon D’or so I can put it on display because she’s too modest to let everyone know how good she is?”

“It gets hidden right beside your 4 ‘TOTY’ player trophies from since you were 16.”

“I told you I would display them if we got a cat and you said ‘no I’m allergic’ so who’s fault is it really?”

“I cannot control my allergies, you bring half of Mapi’s cat back every time you visit them anyway, there is no need for our own cat.”

“I hate you.”

“Hermanita you say that every time I say no and yet you still make Miguelitos once a week because you found out they’re my favourite dessert.”

“Are you calling me a pushover Tana?”

“I’m not… not saying that.”

“Culo.” (ass) Aitana gasps dramatically and places a hand over her heart.

“You wound me Y/N.” you poke your tongue out at her then turn back to your whiteboard, writing down the answer.

“There is no way she knows this.”

“You doubt me Aitana?”

“Yo tambien para ser honesta.” (me too to be honest) the girls laugh to each other as they wait for you to finish with your suspiciously long answer for the question at hand. You don’t waste time in turning the board around to show the two midfielders and the cameras.

Jaws drop as they all read your answer.

“Thirty-one, and she named each of them. Aitana you need to step up your knowledge, this is crazy impressive.”

“How on earth do you know all that?”

“I care deeply about my friends, so much so that I’d get them a cat if they asked.” You glare at each other as Patri tries to end the video.

“Our winner is Y/N, with 5/5 questions right. Aitana you only got 3/5, you are a bad friend.”

“You tell her Patri!”

“What do I need to do to make the boasting end?”

“Make me fabada when we get home.”

“You hate me.”

“And yet you’ll still make it for me as I make your Miguelitos, so either both of us win or lose.”

“Bien hermanita.” She sighs but gives me a smile despite it.

“Gracias… loser.”

“I swear to go-”

[alienoresimagines]

I wish you would write a fic (canon era, modern au, any setting really) where Buck is sick and Bucky fusses over him. Maybe with Buck’s head in Bucky’s lap?

I loved your fic of Bucky watching Buck sleep, so anything with that type of vibe? ❤️

I don't know the difference between a snippet and an actual fic so this is 1.4k 😅 But hey, Gale's awake for this one! Thank you so much for this inspiring ask, I've been writing angst for a week so going back to fluff felt really good 🥰❤️ Featuring : A sick Gale and a worrywart Bucky Also on AO3 Find my other Mota fics here

"Do you need anything ? Blanket ? Water ?" His hands hover over Gale's shivering form but the other weakly bats his hand away when John reaches out to check his fever.

"M'fine, Bucky." Gale's usual deep voice is now raspy and hoarse from too much coughing and Bucky winces in sympathy, knowing how much just saying those few words must've hurt. It also happens to be one of the biggest lies he's ever heard, on the top of his list with Buck's other countless "I'm fine"s he's heard since meeting the other. Bucky's only slightly exasperated.

"Like hell you are." He grumbles unhappily but fondness rounds the edge of every word as he fusses with the army issued blankets until only two unimpressed, slightly hazy with fever, blue eyes could be seen above the green fabric. John has to physically suppress a coo at the sight, sure it wouldn't be welcome, and very much not in the mood to wrestle Gale back in bed a second time.

He's honestly surprised the other held on for as long as he did considering the entire 100th had fallen victim to a nasty cold in the past two weeks, even Bucky himself. Buck had nursed him back to health and despite the pounding headache he remembers, John had enjoyed every minute of it. He would've enjoyed it a lot more though, if this stubborn sweetheart of a man hadn't also decided to take as much of a workload as he could while the rest of them were bedridden, disregarding any signs of his own degrading health.

A hand pulls on his sleeve until he sits on the edge of the bunk, the heat from Gale's body warming his side even through two blankets. Those pills better kick in soon or John might just die from worry. Over a damn cold.

Well, that's not exactly true. Even if the depth of his feelings for Gale still scares him absolutely shitless, he's past the shameful stage of denial. A mere small splinter would be enough to have him worried sick if it was in Gale's finger. But, he considers, maybe he went a bit overboard when he tucked Gale in with all the blankets available. Perhaps just four would be enough... which is why he lets Gale, although unhappily, drop some of the blankets on the bunk next to him. His mouth opens then closes with a click at Buck's glare.

Three blankets it was.

Gale settles again under the remaining covers, graciously letting John adjust them until his neck is covered. His lips, despite being chapped and not as pink as usual, still look so inviting that Bucky has to physically stop himself from pressing his own lips to Buck's. Three days he's been deprived of Gale's kisses and he has never wanted anything more in his life - except for Gale himself. During the two days he was sick, Buck had imposed a no-kissing-on-the-lips rule, much to his own chagrin but he respected Gale's boundary and need for cleanliness. Besides, it's not like he wanted to get Gale sick. And today, on the day he'd been longingly awaiting for 48 endless hours, Buck himself was sick and would refuse Bucky's kisses, he knows. It doesn't stop him from gazing mournfully at those plump lips.

"I was really looking forward to those kisses." He whines dramatically in a defeated sigh, a pang of fondness in his chest at Buck's own saddened eyes. He hasn't been alone in his longing, and the thought sends warmth through his body. Yet, coldness courses through him as he watches guilt overcome sadness when Gale turns his head sideways to avoid looking at him.

"M'sorry." All theatrics forgotten, a frown crosses his face immediately. He leans closer to Buck's face, gently sweeping his hair of his forehead and then cupping his flushed cheek to stroke over a high cheekbone until Gale looks at him.

"Hey, Buck. Listen to me." With his thumb, he tenderly frees Gale's bottom lip from the cage of his teeth. "You've got nothing to be sorry for. Damn cold got everyone, it's no surprise it'd get you too. Nothing shameful 'bout that, okay?"

Later, when the other isn't as miserable as now, John will grouch to him about working himself to the bone instead of going to see Smokey as soon as he’d started feeling bad. Later, he'll make Gale promise to come to him too, if he doesn't feel like talking to their flight surgeon.

The thing is, Gale is John's safe place. With him, he doesn't have to worry about talking too much, touching too much -as much as he could in public- being too much. He just wishes Gale would allow John to be his safe place too. And he knows that Gale allowing him to see that vulnerable side of his is already a huge show of trust. But he wants Gale to trust him not only to catch him when he falls but also to lean on him when he misses a step or falters just a bit.

For now though, he accepts the small nod he gets and relishes in the soft, barely there up of the corners of his lips, which blooms into a sweet smile when Bucky leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"As soon as you're back on your feet, I'm kissing you 'till you push me away." He promises against the too-warm skin of Buck's forehead before pulling back and grinning down at him. Gale looks amused, if a bit tired, but the light in his eyes is one of amused defiance. Even if he doesn't speak, Bucky hears him anyway and it sends thrills of anticipation down his spine. Just a few days more.

There's a moment of silence as John mindlessly plays with sweaty golden strands until Buck blinks slow and long and Gale's warm hand slips into his under the blanket. He has to bite his lips to keep the dopey smile from his face but he does stroke his thumb back and forth the expanse of Gale's knuckles. Shivers still wrack his form, though they did subside a bit compared to minutes ago. It's not nearly enough for Bucky.

"You sure I can't get you anything ?" Buck audibly groans as he opens his eyes just enough to show Bucky just how hard he's rolling his eyes and John snickers sheepishly. He raises the hand not in Gale's soft grip in mock surrender, the amused glint in sky-blue eyes only spurring him on. 

"Sorry, sorry. But really, do you need anything ?" Gale licks his lips once and oh, John knows that look. It's as adorable as it makes his heart ache, the way Gale doesn't look him in the eyes. He thinks of a young boy, barely knee tall, not daring to ask his father anything and imperceptibly clenches his jaw. Softly squeezing Buck's hand in his, he smiles encouragingly when the other faces him.

"Anything, Gale." Tired eyes look at him for a moment, searching for something but John isn't sure what. He keeps his face open, knowing perfectly well there's no way he could hide how he feels about the other man when no one is around. Gale must find whatever he's looking for because he bites his lip slightly, seemingly pleased and content, if a little shy.

John is keeping a tally of how many kisses he's been robbed of.

Minutely, Gale starts scooting over and John huffs a laugh but obediently sits in the spot just vacated, back leaning on the metal headboard. He's barely put his legs on the blankets that Gale immediately presses in close to rest his head on John's lap like a cat pressing his head on his hand until he gets pets.

Bucky might just die of adoration for this sweet, sweet man he's blessed to call his.

He's half convinced the other will start purring when he strokes his fingers through his hair, nails slightly scratching at his scalp like he knows Buck likes but Gale only presses even closer to him until his body is one hot line against John's leg, a happy hum leaving him. He's asleep in one minute flat, face buried in Bucky's lap as the latter keeps playing with his hair, eyes not leaving the even rise and fall of his back.

John's so, so in love that he wonders how he ever thought he wasn't Gale's safe place just as much as Gale was his.

[feelbetterlove-books]

Hello I'm just dropping in to try and help spread some good vibes in the Bucktommy fandom, inspired by @thatmexisaurusrex so here are five headcanons:

Tommy got really into The Great Pottery Throw Down during the early days of quarantine, and he figured he could always use a new hobby, so there's a small kiln and a wheel set up in his garage. The wheel has been neglected a while, since Tommy found that he likes hand building much better, but when Buck finds out about it he goes down a rabbit hole learning about ceramics and he ends up being amazing at throwing, finds it very relaxing. There's already a bunch of Tommy's sculptural work decorating the house, but by the time Buck moves in there's also a lovely set of matching plates and bowls in the kitchen with a monogram of their initials stamped on them. A vase that's filled with fresh flowers every week. Their mugs came from Tommy's experimental efforts, all mismatched and they choose a different one to use every day based on their moods. Eventually, they work together to make a bird bath for the yard, which leads me to:

When Tommy's helicopter goes down, he's injured badly enough that a hospital bed gets set up in the living room and he barely leaves it for several weeks. During that time, Carla is hired to help take care of him and though Buck is there to keep him company as much as possible, he knows how boring a stretch of time off recovering can be. So, to help keep Tommy busy, he sets up a series of bird feeders outside their bay window where Tommy can look out with a pair of binoculars and identify and document all their visitors with a field guide and sketch book. He becomes Obsessed with this, names many of the frequent flyers, continues on to spend an extravagant amount of money on bulk bird seed every year, and makes sure the hummingbirds always have plenty of sugar water. Once he's healed, he and Buck, who is equally invested, plan hikes and trips around bird watching. They don't have any indoor pets but they love all their feathered friends.

Tommy was born a few days after Halloween and it has been his favorite holiday since he was a kid. He gleefully goes all out celebrating it and as a gift to himself, adds more decorations to his collection every year, some of which stay up inside permanently. He's this close to buying the 12 foot skeleton and Buck is not talking him out of it. They are beloved by trick-or-treaters for the display and the fact that they hand out full size candy bars. They prove they are very capable of executing a killer couples costume and scaring the socks off the 118 with some creepy antics at the party they host annually, but nobody can complain because it doubles as Tommy's birthday party.

The next time Buck hears about submissions being open for the firefighter calendar, he absolutely insists Tommy send in his photo. When he becomes Mr. June, (Buck's birth month, happy birthday to HIM) and is photographed for it stepping off his helicopter, stubble accentuating his cleft, flight suit only half on, tits out, sleeves tied around his waist, removing a pair of aviators, Buck loses his mind and buys so many copies of the calendar. The whole 118 and Harbor crew gets one on him. He has one in his locker displaying Tommy year round and one at home to actually use. He even mails a copy to his parents in PA and generally tells anyone who will listen about his hot firefighter pilot model boyfriend without a care for the teasing and groans he gets back, that's his man!!

I've seen a good amount of appreciation for Tommy and Buck's scars and tattoos and wrinkles, but off the top of my head I think Tommy's moles and freckles have been a bit overlooked. If we got to see more of his skin, you can tell he has a lot of them, on his stomach, arms, back, and chest, and Buck LOVES them. He can't really say why he finds them so attractive, but trust that he is kissing and tracing them every chance he gets, connecting the dots of his favorite constellation, and it makes Tommy feel so wanted. Maybe Tommy has some faint stretch marks around his pecs and shoulders too, from when he got really beefy and those little details that most people don't see but he knows well enough to draw on a map are Buck's favorite.

[pallastrology]

little ways to feel a little happier

make a playlist. i like to make playlists for certain times, or situations, or vibes

get yourself a drink that you like. lately i'm really into rooibos tea, do you like smoothies? juice? sparkling water? treat yourself to a fun beverage :-)

freshen up. everything seems awful when your body is being neglected. hydrate, fuel up, move around. wash your hair, or get it out of your face if you can't. open the windows, change the sheets, maybe light a nice candle. splash cold water on your face and look out of your window if you can't get outside

connect. we are all human, and to be human is to make connections. so reach out to a loved one for a good chat. if you can't talk to anyone, write a thoughtful comment on a blog post or youtube video, write a letter to a penpal, send someone the link to a playlist you made them. spending time with a sweet pet is a great substitute for human connection if you can't do it right now

get lost in something. whether that's art, research, a great book series, a creative project... find something that makes you want to dive in and never come up for air. let yourself get curious, it's good for the soul.

similarly, learning something new is also good for the soul, and the brain! whether that's a language, a musical instrument, a dance routine, a practical skill or an interesting theory... open your mind!

let yourself be bad at things. everyone is bad at many, many things. it's perfectly human to be bad at things. it will all be okay, and we will never improve if we don't allow ourselves to. accepting imperfection is really the best way to grow and develop our skills.

1% rule. if you're feeling terrible, it can be really hard to see things ever shifting or getting better. but if there's something you can do to help you feel 1% less terrible, that's a big improvement, and it's worth trying.

what can you do right now to feel 1% better? me, i'm going to go get some water and message my bestie :-) hope you're all doing well, i took an impromptu blog-break due to IRL stresses but am back in my lane now! astrology posts again from next week xo

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

Happy WTF Friday everyone?! YIKES ON BIKES. That sure was an episode.

Back again with another round of the fic I've been reading this week. You can find previous rec lists here. As previously I'm here for henren and all buddie/bucktommy/buddietommy configurations...and apparently this week, all of heroic_pants' Buck and/or Eddie with Josh fic?!

Bring on the drama. *eyes next week's potential list like...welp*

10 May 2024

a mouth full of teeth and nothing to sing by @cal-daisies-and-briars A HEN CENTRIC FIC!!!!! I'm living. Post 07x03, Hen struggles to process the cruise ship rescue and drunk driver call in the midst of ongoing tension with her friends. In which Hen gets the apologies she deserves and gets to vent her frustrations, whilst also self examining her own actions. Fantastic crunchy characterisation.

time will tell by @bekkachaos '5 times Hen and Karen suspect Buck might not be one hundred percent straight, and 1 time they realise they were so damn right. aka., Henren knows and they occasionally speculate about Buck, and Eddie, and now, Tommy.' For everyone absolutely thriving over that reaction in 7x06.

Better Late Than Never by @pop-me soft semi-somnophilic sapphic henren married vibes which I ADORED. Pillow princess Karen, as she deserves. A gorgeous little slice of life domestic scene that was truly so loving and sexy, loved it.

and my heart and my hat by Anonymous (who are you mysterious author, I love your Tommy voice SO MUCH!) This was such a great Tommy POV from 7x03-7x04, charting his feelings from the moment Chim calls him to ask for his help with the cruise ship search, through to the kiss. I really enjoyed the whole ensemble camaraderie of this fic, Tommy's perspective on Hen, as well as the lovely moments where we see all the ways Buck just being Buck is charming to Tommy. So enjoyable.

raspberry. by @buckttommy good lord...hot!!!!! Buck, Tommy, a gay club, a handsome stranger, exhibitionism and some exploratory D/S vibes. This was just *fans self* super sensuous and unabashedly queer, I loved it.

And if you threw a party, and invited everyone you knew by @pantsaretherealheroes In which 'Eddie wakes up the morning after Maddie and Chimney’s wedding with a hangover, and unexpected bed-mate, has a panic attack and a hell of a realisation. Josh makes coffee. They talk.' This is ultimately a buddie fic, but with some glorious supportive Josh along the way, with just the right amount of cattiness too. I just really loved this dynamic and odd couple vibe.

are we still friends? can we be friends? by @pantsaretherealheroes ok how about that, but instead Buck and Josh genuinely have a casual dating set up and all sorts of fun together, mutually agreeing to keep each other in the loop if it stops being what they want. Meanwhile Eddie is PINING, and Maddie is feeling some kind of way about it all. I just really enjoyed the maturity of the dating within these parameters, and the complicated feelings along the way.

treat your mouth as if it's heaven's gate by @bucktheally this is the fourth part in an bucktommy alternative meeting bright as the morning, soft as the rain series in which Tommy was never part of the 118, but can also be read standalone. Look this instalment of the fic got me totally enchanted the moment that Buck set himself up with his laptop 'intent on Wikipedia’ing himself into the queer community in-between naps.' Perfect characterisation. No notes. The fic is sexy, sweet, and I love the development of their relationship set up from this initial premise. Buck just loves to learn!

Won't Be Long Before I Belong by @justaswampdemon a post madney wedding coda fic in which Buck accidentally comes out via soot and Tommy meets everyone. Sweet, tender, gentle and caring.

PS - once again sending out the signal to ask if you have any henren authors/fic recs I should check out PLEASE let me know! I love them!

[chernabogs]

Hi Ames 👀🫶

First, giving you smooches as congrats for your 100 follower milestone :3💖

I saw your prompt list and I was like ANGST POTENTIAL with all the prompt lines, but I picked some out with a more fluff mood in mind~

May I please request a Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader fluff read where there’s a storm on Sage Island and Leona’s been helping reader with their homework at Ramshackle but he can’t go back to his dorm bc of the storm

So he has to stay in Ramshackle over night with reader ehehehe

Here are the prompt lines I picked out:

- “The storm’s getting worse”

- “You look better in my clothes than I do”

- “You snore in your sleep. It’s adorable”

- “Sorry to put you through that. I guess I owe you one now”

Take ur time and if you can’t do mine, no worries :)

TYYYYY <3 <3 I love some good Leona content... I wrote him once but I'm ready to go again LKNAJF

Lights Out

Inc: Leona x Reader (GN), Ruggie (briefly) Warning: None! Not really romantic, but like... semi vibes. Sneaky vibes. If you squint you see them. WC: 2.6k Summary: An agreement to help you study leads to an unexpected situation when the weather turns sour

The weather had been kind for the entire week, and so Leona should have assumed by default that it was all a ruse. He had agreed (under some pressure from both your dire expression and Ruggies repetitive pestering) to assist you with your ancient curse’s homework—which really means he’s going to sit there and watch you while only offering a few scraps of information. He can’t make it too easy for you, no? 

The sky had been cloud free—as blue as a robin's egg, with the softest of breezes dancing across campus as the early spring began to wake from her slumber. He had spent a good portion of the day dealing with his classes and dozing in between after having sent you a brief reassurance that he’d still come in the evening. It was beautiful—glorious, even—until 6 o’clock hit. 

Then, like hell from above, a mass of storm clouds rolled in out of nowhere. The school alert system cited it as an unprecedented phenomenon, and as Leona glares out the window at the torrential downpour beyond, he wonders just how much of it is the fault of Diasomnia’s House warden. It feels like even the slightest of moods sends the man bringing down hail and fury with little regard. His tail twitches in irritation as he lets out another low sigh. 

“What’s the curse that turned that emperor into an animal again?” Your voice causes him to glance at your reflection in the window. He can see that you’re still hunched over the ancient curse’s textbook, your brow set in a furrow as your pen taps steadily against the kitchen table’s surface. “He had to go through a whole life-lesson thing to undo it…”

“He undid it with a counter-poison.” Leona hums as another flash of lightning splits across the sky, briefly brightening the room you’re both in before dying down once more. “He coulda stayed the same and still be able to change back.”

“That defeats the purpose, no?” He hears you setting your pen down and leaning back in your chair as he continues to alternate his gaze between you and the storm above. “If there was a purpose to begin with…” 

“The purpose was his death.” He turns away from the window and finally sinks back down in the seat across from you, his eyes closing and his head tilting back. “His advisor wanted him dead, so she figured cursing him would be a way to do it. Curses like that have been around since magic was still taboo.” 

“Yikes.” Your eloquent reply causes him to scoff as he listens to the sounds of the rain hitting Ramshackle's walls. Despite renovations being done, the acoustics of your dorm are still off-kilter, making him constantly pick up sounds that he shouldn’t be able to hear. 

The scratching of your pen accompanies the rainstorm, and then soon stops as he hears you shuffling around. “... the storm’s getting worse.” 

At that, he does open his eyes again, looking to the window with a frown. It’s pitch black outside, but he can see the relentless onslaught of rain against the windows glass. He pulls out his phone and turns it on; there are two missed messages from Ruggie, a slew of them from the group he has with the other House-wardens—he admits he is curious how many others are questioning Draconia��, and then one from his brother that he deliberately swipes away. 

“Seems like it won’t be letting up tonight.” Leona’s frown deepens as he reads Ruggie's messages. It’s a system that will be hovering over the entire island until mid-morning tomorrow. All students are being advised to shelter in place until it passes. “Shit…” 

“What?” You look up at him, your eyebrows raised. He sets his phone back down and fixes you with an unimpressed look. 

“The school put out a shelter in place notice until the storm ends—no students to leave the place that they’re at right now.” At those words, the lights in the room flicker for a moment before going out entirely, leaving the both of you sitting in complete darkness. 

Leona can still see fine, and he watches (with some amusement) how your eyes go wide in surprise and your breath catches in your throat. 

“Did something hit a line?” You’re quick to rise and peer out the window. Most of the dorms rely on magic to power their electric devices, such as with Ignihyde, but Ramshackle is old enough to still run on original lines. His lips twist into a frown as he remains seated while you gawk out the window in interest. 

“If it did, then there’s no use stressin’. It’ll be restored whenever someone gets around to it—after the storm.”

He personally doesn’t mind sitting in the dark. Granted, Ramshackle still is an ominous dorm to be in—with its ghost infestation and such—but there’s also a sense of peace present that can very easily let him drift off to a nap. If he needs to be on lock down in this place, he doubt’s it’ll bother him too much. 

That is if you let him sleep in the first place.

“I mean I guess we can just light some candles and stick it out?” You look back at him as another flash of lightning breaks across the sky, illuminating your form only briefly. He can still see your eyes are wide in surprise, and your breath is quick—either from the shock of the lights going out, or a fear of the storm toiling outside. 

He checks his phone again and notes that you’ve been going at it for nearly four hours now. He’s never had to pull an all-nighter for a test—lessons come easily to him without effort, after all—and a part of him wonders if that’s what your intent is. If so, he certainly won’t be staying up alongside you. 

“You do that. I’m gonna stake out that couch over there.” He scoffs as he undoes his vest. It won’t be the most comfortable to sleep in uniform, but it’s not like he packed an overnight bag in preparation for your study session. He finishes unbuttoning the vest and stands, stretching upwards for a moment before letting out another sigh. “Try not to drive yourself nuts shoving all this information in there.” 

“Grims lucky he went to Heartslabyul tonight…” you mumble. He watches as you go to the nearby closet to pull out some candles before he maneuvers himself around to lie back on the foyer couch. He can hear you bumping into tables and chairs as you navigate in the darkness before finally the faint, flickering glow of a candle being lit tells him you’ve survived in one piece. His eyes close and he lets himself fall into a state of comfort as he listens to the sounds of papers turning and pens scratching. 

…

But he can’t fall asleep. 

This is both inconvenient and unusual for him. It becomes apparent that, with the power getting knocked out, the furnace in Ramshackle has also broken down, leaving the dorm to gradually become colder and colder with each passing moment. He opens one eye to glare at the ceiling above as he can feel goosebumps rising on his arm. 

“D’you have a spare blanket or something?” He finally asks, sitting up to peer at you from over the edge of the couch. You glance his way, your face bathed in candlelight, before you hum. 

“Mmm, not one that doesn’t smell like mold, no…” you reply slowly. Leona’s expression sours at your comment as you set your pen down and stand up. “One second... I think I have something that might work.” 

As you pick up a candle and vanish to the upper floors of the dorm, he lies back on the couch to stare at the ceiling above. The remaining candles cast odd shadows about the room, and the slow ticking of a nearby grandfather clock proves to be both soothing and anxiety-inducing as the seconds pass by. His tail twitches once more as he listens to the sounds of creaking footsteps coming back down to the foyer. 

“Here.” He feels something soft hit his stomach and he grabs it by reflex. It’s a black hoodie—almost his size. “I won it at one of the school festivals. I don’t wear it often, so it’s clean.” 

Leona stares at it for a long moment. The front has an image of the NRC mascot drawn in a cartoon form while holding the set of keys he often sees on the headmaster’s hip. It feels like something he’d expect Idia to keep stashed in a closet, not you. 

Still, it’s something warm, and with some small grumbles of protest, he pulls it on and tightens the drawstrings. He’s sitting upright on the couch and glaring at the wall when he hears you chuckle to his right. One sharp glance, and he can see you watching him with a cheeky grin from the table, your ancient curses homework still strewn about. 

“You know, you look better in that than I do. All that’s needed is some holes for your ears in the hood, and then you’re golden.” 

“Keep talking.” He threatens in a deadpanned tone, earning a laugh from you as you look back to your homework. You know that he’ll never actually do anything to you—after all, by getting him to agree to come to your dorm in the first place, you already know you’ve won him over to some extent. 

He watches you from over the edge of the couch for a moment longer. The furrow in your brow, the way you tap the pen against your paper in a rhythm, the way you occasionally bite your lip while in thought. He seriously wonders why he agreed to come and help you in the first place. It isn’t like he enjoys school, and he’s certainly never considered helping someone with their schoolwork before. He wants to say it was solely Ruggie’s off-handed comments and deliberate looks, but he can’t shake the image of your distressed expression out of his mind when you asked him. 

Pity. It’s definitely out of pity that he’s shown up tonight. Ruggie just added fuel to the fire, that’s all.

But still, he can’t shake the sense of unease that stirs in his chest as he watches you for a moment longer before lying back down, his hand coming to rest on his abdomen as he did. The hoodie smells vaguely of you, and it does little to alleviate this feeling. He watches the shadows dance across the ceiling and listens to the sound of you working for a moment longer before he finally finds his eyes closing once more. 

It takes him a while, but eventually he falls into the shadows of an uneasy slumber. 

—---

When he opens his eyes, he’s greeted to the sound of a dove cooing. At first his mind doesn’t register where he is, and he feels a sharp sense of adrenaline rushing when he doesn’t see the familiar ceiling of his dorm room above him. Then the memories of last night come back—the power going out, the candles, your off-handed comment about him wearing your clothes—and he feels himself relaxing once more. 

“You snore in your sleep, you know.” 

Leona’s attention snaps to where you sit in the chair across from him. You’re nursing a hot cup of something in your hands as you watch him with a tired smirk. You pulled an all-nighter—he can tell by the slight bloodshot tint in your eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s kind of adorable.” 

“Adorable?” His brow furrows as he sits up, stretching forward and looking towards the nearest window. The sky above is a splash of pink and orange with the coming dawn. He can see the very same dove that he heard sitting on the windowsill, peering in with its beady eyes at the oddly domestic image of you both. “Don’t go annoying me with those kinds of comments so early in the morning.” 

“Sorry. I’ll be sure to reserve my next compliment for the afternoon.” Another cheeky little grin plays on your lips, and he tries to ignore how the sight of it makes that uneasy feeling return. He averts his gaze once more as he shifts to rise from the couch. He’s still wearing your hoodie. 

It feels nice. 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” After he composes himself and becomes fully aware of reality again, he glances at you once more. You sigh and lower your mug with a frown.

“I mean, somewhat? I dozed off at the table a few times, but I was working on getting through four units of text before the afternoon class.” 

“And did you?” He asks, raising an eyebrow. “Get through the four units, I mean.” 

“Three. Best I can do.” You chuckle in turn. 

“Which unit did you miss?” 

Your expression becomes one of thought before your eyes light up again. “I couldn’t get to the unit about impacts of curses on modern law. I tried to start it, but as soon as the court transcripts started popping up, my mind just completely tapped out. Legalese is not my strong suit.” 

Leona chuckles slightly at that. He doubts legalese is anyone’s strong suit, save for Azul, who uses it in contracts, or Riddle, who just uses it in general. “And your test for this is…?” 

“This afternoon.” You sigh. “I’ll just take the loss. I’m sure Ace, Deuce, and Grim will be sinking with me, at least.” 

He ruminates on your words for a moment. There’s no denying that you worked your ass off to try and learn as much about ancient curses as possible. He saw the three notebooks of notes that you were skimming through, and the fact that you’re sitting here looking dead on the couch makes that small spark of something start up again. 

Pity. It’s pity, he tells himself. 

“You look pathetic.” He grumbles as he stretches his back. “Tell you what. Lemme get back to Savanaclaw, now that the freak storm is done, and I’ll loan you my notes for that unit. Loan.” 

He emphasizes the last word with a pointed look. Despite how hard you’ve worked so far, he can’t make it too easy for you, no? Your eyes widen again in that comically surprised expression. 

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you begin, but he silences your words with another sharp glance. A small, grateful look then replaces the one of surprise as you sink back into the seat. “... sorry to put you through that, then. I guess I owe you one now.” 

“Well, I’m not gonna hold it over you like some people might.” He sighs. “But I’ll be keeping this sweater for now. I’m not looking to freeze to death before I reach the mirror chamber from here.” 

You nod quickly. “Yeah! Please. Just give it back whenever. Or don’t, you know. I don’t mind.” 

Your words falter awkwardly, and he can’t keep his lips from curling upwards a bit in amusement. “Right. Meet me back at the mirror chamber in thirty, then—and don’t make me wait, herbivore. I have things to do today.” 

Things being spelldrive practice—but he has a feeling you already know that. You grant him a sunny smile, which makes his chest ache once more, before offering a grateful wave. “Sure! Thanks again, Leona.” 

He ignores the way you saying his name gets to him as he shrugs dismissively before moving to the front door. “Don’t mention it. Seriously.” 

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part five

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

a/n: okay so now we're getting into the good stuff and i'm so so excited!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

"Are you joking? Cheap bastard..." Billy grumbles as you step into the stables of a ranch on the outskirts of Silver City.

You had just played a show at the saloon here, voice a little tired and worn along with the rest of you as you prepare to settle in for the night. You hadn't played here before, but sometimes you just got set up with less than ideal accommodations- it was your trade, and you really didn't mind it.

You and Billy had fallen into a stable routine over the last few weeks, wandering city to city and asking both familiar and unfamiliar bar men if you could play there in exchange for nothing more than tips and a place to stay. Hey, it was a life Billy was familiar with. Despite the legality of your endeavours, you had a decent bit in common.

"Hm?" You hum quietly, digging out the cleaned out jar you'd been using for water, twisting the lid off as you glance up at him, sitting yourself down on a comfortable looking stack of hay.

Billy wasn't one to complain as look as he was sleeping somewhere safe, but you certainly deserved better than a hay stack in a stable. The smell of horses would linger in your hair until the next time you found a creek to bathe in.

"We can't sleep here, darlin'. It ain't comfortable. Hardly even safe." He says, bag slung over his shoulder as he gestures back toward the wide open door to the stables. Hell, he would rob these people of their horses if you weren't with him. They were practically begging the wrong crew to pass by and do it.

The nickname you had now become accustomed to hardly even makes you blush anymore as you take a sip out of the lukewarm water in the jar, letting the liquid sit in your mouth for a few moments as you look around at what he meant. You shrug before swallowing, feeling a bit more refreshed already. "It's just for a night or two. I've slept places worse."

You hold up your hand before he continues complaining, reaching into your bag, falling apart at the seams, and pulling out a small blanket that was in similar shape. You stand up to shake it out after closing and setting down your water, laying the blanket across the hay bale next to where you were sitting.

Billy recognized it, you had been using it as a pillow the entire time he'd been with you- rolling it up under your head regardless of the state of the pillows in the beds you were borrowing in spare bedrooms or vacant spaces at the inns covered kindly by the bar owners for the night.

"That tiny blanket ain't gonna do a thing to keep you warm once the chill sets in." He shakes his head and your expression drops, hardly even noticeable as you look between him and your blanket.

"I... well..." For the first time since he met you, you seem hesitant or almost embarrassed about something. "I just thought you'd rather lay on that then the hay, that's all. It can be kinda pokey."

Oh.

His heart sinks in his chest as he looks at you. You had laid it out for him, in hopes of keeping him a little more comfortable when you thought he clearly didn't like the idea of sleeping out here on the ground. It was the best you could offer, and it wasn't like you had many other options for the night.

Weeks ago you wouldn't even let him touch your guitar case; you still weren't very easily accepting of the idea.

"Hey, hey! I ain't gonna run with it, I'm just helpin' you out. Relax." Billy said with a laugh, lifting the case over his head, high up in the air and supporting the other end with his free hand while you jumped to try and grab it from him.

He found that little scowl on your face adorable.

"I can carry it!" You had insisted frustratedly, giving up on jumping for it when you realized that the best you could do is knock your precious guitar from his hands and send it tumbling to the ground.

Needless to say, you were quite possessive of your things, and the significance behind the gesture of you offering your blanket to him was not lost.

Billy shakes his head. "You ain't gotta give that to me. I appreciate it, that's real sweet, but you better save it for yourself..." He hesitates for a moment, eyes drifting to the blanket again. "I know it's special to ya."

You don't say anything in response, sheepishly nodding and grabbing the blanket again, with much less care than you had laid it down with. As if you were in a hurry to hide it away again, to bunch it up as a pillow instead of leave its ratty nature exposed.

"Pack up your stuff. We ain't sleepin' in this pig pen." Billy says, taking on a more cheerful tone and waving his hand for you to follow him to the door. "Come on."

"Huh? You got a better idea of where we can sleep?" You ask, blanket tucked under your arm as your brow mimics its wrinkled material in your confusion.

"I do, actually. Do ya trust me?"

Apparently the answer to that question is yes, and you only regret that decision a handful of times as he leads you and your stolen horses up a muddied, narrow, and undoubtedly dangerous path that leads to god knows where in what feels like the middle of nowhere.

"So... did you pre-dig a shallow grave for me out here or somethin'? I always knew you were planning to kill me." You hum, holding the reins of your horse behind your back as you lead it up the small and rocky trail.

Billy rolls his eyes, scoffing out a laugh that you can just make out from up ahead. "No," he chuckles, "I'm not going to kill you, darlin'."

"I am yet to hear a better explanation for why you're dragging me out to the middle of nowhere, but okay." You snide, but for the most part it was playful. You knew he wouldn't hurt you, well, hopefully. He had had plenty of similar opportunities in the previous weeks, so your guard was down just a little bit.

"Did I ever tell you I used to live here?" He asks, glancing back at you.

"Silver City?" You ask, more curious than teasing or annoyed now. "No, you didn't. I thought you were on the road too much for that."

"Well, yeah, but that was after I lived here for a few years." He explains with a small shrug you can hardly see with the distance of his horse separating you. "With my ma and my kid brother. They had to move here with her worthless fuck of a husband after he kept losing work, and we heard there was some out here."

He'd never spoken of his family before. At least not to you. At least not in the last several weeks in which time you had hardly been apart, and the honesty shocks you. It is very welcome, though.

"Oh... well... are they still here? In Silver City, I mean." You say, knowing that this should be carefully navigated if you wanted to hear more about his life in the future. If you wanted him to trust you.

"I don't know about Antrim, but my brother and my ma passed a long while ago. That's why I left, had nothing to stay here for anymore."

In the moonlight you can just make out his figure a little ways in front of you as he shrugs, as if it wasn't a big deal. As if he hadn't lost everything, lost his family. How could he not have told you before? In all these weeks he had been helping you in order to get back to your own family, he had never once mentioned that he lost his too.

"I'm so sorry," Is the best you can come up with, despite your own insistence those weeks before that apologies only make you feel worse. Make it more real- but what else were you to say? "For what it's worth."

"Hey," He chuckles, surprising you a bit. "It's worth somethin' to me."

It isn't long before you come to a clearing at the top of a hill, a steep cliff overlooking what you assume to be an old mining site picked right dry. But you don't pay much attention to that, quickly distracted by the view above you- the trees having opened up to the beautiful sky again.

Billy tied the reins of his horse to one of the thinner tree limbs, before dusting his hands off on his trousers as he walks back into the clearing fully to join you where you had stopped hard in your tracks. He gestures up to the sky as they spread out in a vast sheet of light and glittering wonder, their beauty unhindered by clouds or the tree line.

"See? I ain't gonna kill you. Ta-da, doll."

You're mesmerized, hardly hearing his words. "Heaven's a touch away." You whisper, and he hardly catches it as the reflection of the stars flicker in your already sparkling bright eyes.

His smile widened as your own did, and he nodded. Heaven's a touch away.

He would have said something else, but he was too busy being hypnotized by the way the moonlight reflected off your skin and made you glow like an angel.

Billy chuckled softly at how awed you were by the display, glancing up at the sky before looking over at you again.

For just a moment, he wanted to take you by the waist and bring you closer, to pull you against his body as you stared above your heads. He wanted to keep you warm and whisper sweet things in your ear as the stars shined down on you both.

But he held back. You weren't his to hold. Not yet.

"It's nice, ain't it?" He asks after a moment, averting his gaze finally from you and up at the stars you were oh so entranced with.

"Sure is." You agree quietly. "Feel's like I could reach out and touch 'em."

You look over at him after a moment, catching him taking his hat off so he could get a better look, sweeping his scruffy hair back away from his eyes. "How'd you find this place?" You ask after a moment.

He shrugs again, familiar. "Like I said, I lived down in town under the same roof as the worst man in the west. Needed somewhere to go."

You nod silently, looking up at the stars again. "Well, I'm glad you did. It's beautiful." You say with a small grin.

Billy hums in agreement. "I figured if we'd be spendin' the night out in the cold anyway, we might as well have some space and a nice view."

"This is why I prefer the west to the city." You say with a nod, placing your guitar case on the ground and sliding your bag off your shoulder to land on top of it. "Even on the highest roof you couldn't get a view like this."

You dig around in your bag for your blanket again, delicately laying it out on the ground for the two of you to lay on while you looked up at the stars until you fell asleep. You can't help imagining how much Max would have loved this. All the kids would have, but at least they could look up and see it again.

If Max were to open his eyes six feet under and look up, he'd be well lucky to see anything other than pure, peaceful darkness.

You lay down, and without a word, Billy does as well. He props up one knee and folds his hands behind his head, and you wonder if he's thinking the same thing about his family.

"Are you a religious man, Billy?" You ask after a few minutes of quiet contemplation, letting your head fall to the side to look at him.

"Used to be." He hums, still gazing up at the stars. "Was how I was raised, but I'll be honest, my beliefs on it are much the same as yours these days." He explains.

What kind of god could take two kids families from them like this?

"I don't blame you." You say quietly. But you do suppose that assuming there was a higher power, it was the very same one that stripped your family from you for a second time in your life, only to present you with a friend in William Bonney. Maybe that isn't the worst thing in the world.

"Or, I mean, they were for a while. I really don't know anymore." He muses. "I try not to think about it."

He didn't really have a lot left to believe in. Same as you. Not the god who killed everyone he had ever loved, not the justice system that's been chasing him down for a long while now, and not in himself to do the right things. You had him beat, in that regard. He could see it in every day spent with you. But is that not a blessing all in its own?

"No one does. I think that's kind of the idea." You reply with a slight laugh, wanting to lighten things up a little bit. "Y'know, tests of faith and all that."

"Fair." He agrees softly, looking over at you again finally and giving you a small grin.

"Although," You tilt your head slightly, looking up at the sparkling sky again. "Day in and day out, folks die and babies are born, there's great pain to be found on both ends of life. But if there's someone around to bring you in, and someone to miss you when you're gone, things couldn't have been too bad along the way." You ramble on a bit, deep in thought as you try to communicate a simplified version of what you were trying to convince yourself.

Billy was a little bit speechless for a moment, weighing the accuracy of your assessment. After a few seconds, he lets out a laugh. "I guess you're right, but I'm not sure I'll have many folks missin' me when I'm gone."

"I'd miss you." You reply quietly, with minimal hesitation. "If we parted ways tomorrow and I never saw you again, I'd remember the last few weeks fondly. It's nice to not be alone."

He isn't sure if it's hunger or what that makes his stomach turn and a tightness form in his chest. He's not positive he won't throw up right there on your blanket over the rush of feelings at the most simplest of words.

"Well, thanks." He says, laugh long faded as he looks up at the deep navy sky that felt so close that you thought you had a chance at touching it. "I'd miss you too."

You smile to yourself in contentment, shifting a bit to get more comfortable for the long night ahead of sleeping in the grass at the top of this hill familiar to only one of you.

Billy spares you another glance in the long silence that follows, unbothered by the chirping of crickets and the occasional shift of your horses hooves in the dirt a few feet away.

The stars were beautiful. This was a known fact.

But you were far more heavenly in his eyes.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[inklore]

after a year and a handful of months of debating on if i should, or wanted to, do commissions (and with some convincing and hyping from friends) i've decided why the heck not!

so to everyone whose ever complimented me and hyped me up for my themes and graphics thank you and you're definitely another driving force in this decision.

making graphics is therapeutic to me and i take a lot of pride and joy in doing it, from seeing everyone loving the things i create. and i want to share that pride and joy even more, sooo if you've ever struggled with making a good theme, feel too lazy to make one, need a banner for a fic or masterlist, a header, or just need someone to help your graphic vision come together; i'm here to provide!

before you commission something, or just want some examples, please check out my past work and portfolio!

PORTFOLIO | PINTEREST | ART TAG | GIFS

PLEASE THOROUGHLY READ THROUGH THE RULES!!!!

✶ all payments will be made through kofi or fiverr depending on what you're commissioning. if you'd rather go through paypal that is also a valid option just message me.

when it comes to commissioning anything details matter!!! i need complete details of what you want to be created. i will not accept something like 'floral vibe' or 'something with browns'. that gives me nothing. i need a vision, i need as much information as possible, examples (but do not take them from other creators please i will decline your commission), you can take inspo or examples from my own themes, or go through my pin board. the more details the better. the greater i can make your vision come into view. this is important!!!

i will not use other peoples art. do not ask for it to be included in whatever project i am creating. everything i make is for personal use only.

you will get two redos for me to change something you don't like about the theme. a preview of the finished product will be sent your way and you can ask for something to be completely re-done, but after that no changes will be made.

please include your user or where you want me to send your graphics within your request.

there's not a time span in which you have to use the theme or graphic for, but a week would be complimentary.

you can commission as many times as you wish after i've finished the first one.

for my own personal reasons minors are not allowed to commission things.

we do not have to be mutuals, nor do you have to be following me to commission something.

you don't have to outwardly give me credit but please do not claim my creations as your own.

if you have any questions before commissioning something my messages are always open and there is never a dumb question. please feel free to ask!

✶ fandoms i will not accept commissions for: anime, supernatural, our flags mean death, good omens (because i am not in them nor have enough knowledge on how to make the vision really suit said fandoms).

a full theme includes: a navigation banner and a header.

when commissioning a theme there are a few things that need to be mentioned and answered, so please include them in your request!

what kind of navi banner do you want? (refer to my portfolio for this, or if you just want something simplistic, big, small, medium, extra, messy, chaotic, etc)

what vibe are you going for? (dark academia, greek myth, ocean, dainty, horror, etc)

colors? (a must ok i need to know, if you give me none then i'm going to do whatever and choose what i think looks best and that's also fine if you want me to have complete creative liberties)

whats your overall vision? (can be included in the vibes section but giving me more detail is better)

text. (what do you want included on it, words, titles, information, quotes, etc)

examples. (like i mentioned in the rules examples are encouraged but do not take them from other creators on here and i will not copy, or make them look like someone else's work)

what kind of header do you want? (a simple png that goes along with the navi colors and vibe, a whole other banner-esk graphic, none, etc)

✶ see the add ons section below if you want more things included in your theme.

now these add ons are only for themes. if you commission a header only, or gif, they will have their own add on options.

$1 - for dividers that match your theme in color and vibe (if you want symbol, graphic, or anything that's not color then the price goes up a dollar)

$1 - three+ icon options (want the perfect icon to fit your theme and don't want to do the searching yourself? i got you)

$2 - content warning + minor dni banners (i'll make theme specifically to match your theme, with your user, and whatever you want them to say or look like etc)

$3 - layout + navi formatting (aka i'll come up with a completely new layout format for your navigation post + your bio)

$4 - a gif header or a gif included within the navi graphic (this is the highest price because finding clips, extracting scenes into caps, making the gif, coloring it to match the theme, blending, etc, is a lot lol)

a header commission includes: only a header. it is not a theme, just a mobile header, or a header for a masterlist, or fic.

the information needed for this commission are as listed below.

what kind of header do you want? (aka what is it for. this is important because the look is dependent on this information)

colors, vibes, vision. (more detail the better)

text. (if you want text on it, what do you want it to say, so title, etc)

examples. (not needed but a plus)

gif commissions include: gifs for your fics or masterlists. not for themes or headers.

depending on how you want these little moving pictures to look you gotta give some details.

fandom, character, scenes. (don't just say 'any scene' unless you truly want me to choose whatever scene lmao)

how many? (the current cut off is six, if you want more then there's an add on)

coloring. (you can completely leave this up to me but if you want them to be a certain color then please let me know, i'll also check with you before making all of them to make sure you like the coloring)

text. (want them to say anything? a title? subtitles? dialogue from your fic? your username on them? etc)

add on: blends. (want two characters or actors from different angles, scenes, or fandoms in the same gif? i got you)

add on: textures. (if you want added details such as a texture on the gifs then this will be extra, but i need to know what kind of texture / details you want added)

fic commissions: are only done through fiverr or paypal. if you are interested in commissioning a fic or any kind of writing then please refer to my fiverr and inquire over there or message me on here. thank you!!

✶REMEMBER TO MESSAGE ME WITH ANY QUESTIONS YOU HAVE BEFORE COMMISSIONING, NO MATTER THE TIME OR SUBJECT, I ENCOURAGE IT!

contact info: on tumblr, or discord: toldbylaur.

where to commission: kofi or pm me!