#bc how could i not when given the option?

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[kinnoth]

Ok not to be a freak but .... why does sekiro not automatically volunteer to be the "cradle" in the "return" ending. Like.....the only stated qualifications are 1) must be immortal (which sekiro is already) and 2) must eat the snake livers (which sekiro already has on his person).

Like, just given everything we know about sekiro and his commitment to being like..... the only person who bears all the sacrifices for kuro bc that's the only way he knows how to inhabit his devotion ....he really ought to have been like "I'll do it" when the divine child brings up this possibility, to which the divine child could have been "no, you can't because xyz nonsense reasons"

Just seems so weird that he wouldn't offer???

[remlionheart]

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die (part two)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ask and you shall receive ~ you guys wanted more, so here it is! 𓆩♡𓆪 thank u so much for all the love on this ♡ i didn't expect my first shot at Chuuya to gain so much traction but i'm really glad it did (he's just soooo ♡‿♡ u know?) hope you like a good slowburn bc buckle up, heavy "we shouldn't be doing this" vibes, Chuuya would honestly be the most arrogant yet easy to break dom because of how badly he wants to please you and you can't convince me otherwise, porn with a plot, 5.6k words. this fic once again had me swooning and gnawing at the bars of my enclosure writing it so pls lemme know whatcha think, also big shoutout to @bratbby333 for helping me edit this ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ♡ here's part one if you're new here ♡

You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror with a sigh, tugging at the neck of your shirt. It was late August, 90 degrees outside, and you were on day three of wearing a turtleneck.

You felt like you were attending a funeral in your black top, black heels, and black tennis skirt - but it was all you had left. You'd already worn your other patterned and pleated options earlier in the week. Already paired each stifling hot sweater with the nicest necklaces you had to make them look more business casual than walk-of-shame.

But no matter how nonchalant you'd tried to seem about your sudden change in wardrobe, it was impossible to ignore the curious stares you'd been getting. The suspicious glances from Akutagawa who just a few days ago could barely even look in your direction without tripping over his own feet. There was a palpable sense of skepticism that followed you and it only seemed to get worse with each high-collared shirt you wore.

You let out another sharp exhale, surveying yourself one last time before heading back to your office. You were busy trying to decide on which expletive you were going to spend the next 7 hours cross-stitching when you rounded the corner, a sudden rush of warmth spreading across your face as a pair of cerulean eyes locked with yours.

Out of all the looks you'd gotten recently, his were by far the hardest to avoid.

Time seemed to slow as you passed him. A subtle but taunting smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth while he continued his conversation with Mori. Something about his upcoming assignment in Osaka and how it'd require him to be gone for at least two weeks.

You disappeared into your office, closing the door behind you as you took a seat and diligently began working on a new project.

Your thread kit had become invaluable over the last few days. It wasn't just a way to pass time anymore - it was an escape. A tool you used to steer your thoughts away from the one place that they kept relentlessly trying to wander back to.

Since the announcement of his solo mission, there'd hardly been a chance for you to see Chuuya outside of the lingering glances you'd exchange in passing. Mori had been keeping close tabs on him, constantly barging in and out of his office to go over the details of his assignment. You tried to remind yourself that it was probably for the best. That the safest thing you could do was keep what had happened between the two of you a onetime fling and nothing more.

It hadn't mattered in the moment how careless you'd both been when you assumed that you'd never see him again, but now that your time here had been extended, you were quickly realizing how critical it was to keep your wits about you. Up until arriving at Port Mafia, you'd barely been skating by. Living off of a dwindling savings account and more often than not having to choose between dinner or rent.

The first check you received from Mori alone was more than you made all of last year working as a barista. You knew that this sort of opportunity would never come again. That it was absolutely fleeting and subject to change at any given moment, but that's what made keeping it for as long as you could so important. The money you were making now would put you through college. It would grant you a future that didn't involve debt. A sense of stability that you never would've had otherwise.

You had no choice but to lay low, for real this time.

You moved your tapestry needle with ease, adding small, strategically placed hearts around the words, "choke me" as you stretched out your legs with a yawn.

The coffee they had here wasn't nearly as good as the coffee you'd usually get from the cafe down the street, but you decided it was better than nothing as you set your cross-stitch pad on your desk and ventured down the hallway.

For as dangerous as this place was, there was still an odd allure of normalcy about it. There were mundane things like work meetings and fax machines and a breakroom that stayed stocked with beverages and snacks. If it weren't for the people that worked here, this truly would be just another business building in downtown Yokohama.

Your suede pumps tapped against the tile as you entered the breakroom, grabbing a k-cup out of the drawer and popping it into the machine before walking over to the cabinet. Despite the three-inch heels you were wearing, you still had to resort to using your tiptoes to reach the mug you wanted.

Your waist leaned into the counter, your arm reaching as high as it could go when your entire body suddenly froze.

You felt him before you heard him, a pair of gloved hands stealthily gripping around your hips. He rested his head on your shoulder, his breath sending chills along your skin as it broke through the barrier of your shirt and danced across the nape of your neck. He pulled you in closer, your ass meeting the firmness of his growing bulge while his palm slowly drifted up past your skirt and brushed against your inner thigh.

"You know you can't ignore me forever, right?" It was posed as a question but held the weight of a threat with the tantalizing way he touched you.

Your pulse raced, heat gathering at your center as he began to toy with the lacy outline of your underwear. His fingers were dangerously close to where you wanted them and where you knew they shouldn't be. Where they couldn't be if you wanted to stay here.

It was cruel irony that just last week it had been him who was trying so hard to keep himself together and now you were somehow the one struggling to maintain your composure. Failing to stop yourself from arching your back against him. Nearly whining when he abruptly pulled away from you and disappeared without another word.

You swallowed hard, looking down at yourself while you straightened out the hem of your skirt, your body still aching from the disappearance of his touch. It was only then that you realized just how fitting your outfit for today actually was.

You were attending a funeral, mourning the loss of your dignity that had died so easily at the hands of Chuuya Nakahara.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Two days had passed since your run-in with the redhead and you'd barely seen him since. You knew he was set to leave for Osaka tomorrow morning from the conversations you'd overheard while wandering the hall and you knew he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Maybe it would've been easier to not care about what he was doing if you weren't forced to be here every day, but there was no such thing as a break when working for Port Mafia. No weekends. No time off. Even as arguably their most useless member, you were still expected to show up day in and day out without complaint.

You didn't like to admit it, but his assignment had been weighing on you since you'd first found out about it. You didn't understand why he was being asked to go alone. Why he'd have to be there for two weeks. Why you even cared to begin with.

It'd been bleeding into everything you touched, your embroidery going from mindless patterns to things you couldn't possibly bring yourself to say out loud.

Your fingers moved with precision, adding dainty purple flowers around the words "please be safe" when the landline on your desk let out a shrill, unexpected ring.

You paused, staring at the phone with hesitant curiosity. You'd assumed up until now that it was a decorative prop. A piece of outdated technology to help add to the illusion that you had a real office rather than just an empty room to keep hidden away in for 9 hours. You were floored that it actually worked.

On the fourth ring, you finally caved, answering it with a reluctant, "Hello...?"

"You'd make a terrible receptionist, y'know that?"

You hated the smile that crept across your face as you twirled the phone cord around your index finger. "Don't you have anything better to do besides bother the help?"

"Nah, not really." You could hear the smirk in his voice. "Mori's finally out of my hair for a bit. Somethin' about needing to go check the status of one of our bases out in Tokyo so he should be gone the rest of the day."

"Hmm," You hummed, still fidgeting with the tangled wire. "Guess you'll have plenty of time to clean your office before you leave then."

He let out a semblance of a laugh, his tone still riddled with salacious arrogance as he said, "Get your ass in here." and hung up.

You drew in a shallow breath, mentally kicking yourself yet again for how little self-control you had as you stood up and made your way down the hall. Your skin had just healed from the marks he'd left on you and here you were, flirting with the possibility of getting more.

The door opened seconds after you'd knocked, a set of narrowed blue eyes and tousled red hair greeting you as you stepped into his dimly lit workplace.

You took a seat on the leather couch he had in the corner of the room, pretending not to notice as he locked the door behind you.

"Does Mori not pay you enough to have more than one lamp in here?"

He stood in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, a cocky grin breaking through his nonchalant demeanor. “Sorry, where does he have you working again? That tiny ass room that used to be the broom closet? Yeah, I bet the fluorescent lighting is way better in there.”

You bit back your own dumb smile, rolling your eyes as you crossed one leg over the other. "Did you drag me in here to just insult me or do you actually need something?"

"Depends, do you like being insulted?"

You could feel your body betray you, a telling shade of pink decorating your cheeks as you averted your gaze from his.

"Really?"

You didn't have to look at him to know how much it’d piqued his interest.

"Why are you going to Osaka?" You asked, eager to change the subject.

There was a subtle wave of seriousness that washed over him. His voice losing its playful edge as he rolled his shoulders with a sigh. "I can't really go into too much detail without making you a liability. The less you know about the shit that goes on around here, the better."

Your mouth open and then closed, the objection you had lined up dying on the tip of your tongue as you quietly nodded back at him. Even if you didn't want to accept his answer, you knew he was right.

"Aw, don't tell me you're actually worried about me?" He tilted his head at you, his stare softening when he caught the sincerity in your eyes as you looked back at him. "I'll be fine. Trust me, compared to the other missions I've had to go on, this is nothin'."

You had no choice but to trust him, you knew he was blunt enough to tell you the truth and if he wasn't stressed about leaving, then you couldn't be either. As easy as it was to forget, he wasn't just another member of Port Mafia, he was an executive. There was no way Mori would send him alone if he didn't think it was something he could handle.

"Honestly, I'm more worried about you." He said, breaking your train of thought by nudging your leg with his foot. "What're you gonna do for two whole weeks while I'm gone?"

You buried the rest of your concern with a shrug, uncrossing your legs as you shot him a small smile. "I don't know. Guess I'll have to start fooling around with Akutagawa to pass the time."

He nearly snorted he laughed so hard.

"What? You don't think I could have him if I wanted to?” It was infuriating how easy it was to banter back and forth with him like this. How effortless it was for you to both volley off one another without missing a beat.

He shook his head, trying not to burst into laughter again from the thought of you and his perpetually flustered coworker. "Nah, you could. Just think you'd be disappointed is all. Akutagawa wouldn't know what the fuck to do with a girl like you."

There was something about the way he said it that made the blood dance in your veins.

"Fine." You pressed, still wearing the same slight smile. "Tachihara then."

It was becoming a real problem, the way you loved toying with him as much as he loved toying with you.

"He wouldn't."

"I bet he would."

He bent down to become eye-level with you, butterflies flooding your stomach as he reached out to rest his hand under your chin, a gentle but firm grasp holding you in place. "You can try," he said, his thumb lightly dragging across your bottom lip. "But I don't think you'll have much luck."

"Why?" It was barely a whisper let alone an actual question.

You knew him well enough to know where this was more than likely going, but there was a depraved part of you that wanted to hear him say it. Needed to hear him say it.

"'Cause," His eyes glazed over as he leaned in, closing the already small gap between you so that you were forced to share the same breath. "Tachihara isn't dumb enough to touch things that belong to me."

Your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest. A week's worth of pent-up arousal nearly dripping onto his couch as you looked back at him without the faintest bit of restraint left in you.

All of the reasons why you'd been trying so hard to stay away from him suddenly held no real merit. They were lost to his touch. Completely eviscerated the moment his lips finally caught yours and his tongue swirled against you with the same tender urgency you'd been daydreaming about for the last five days. The future didn’t seem so pressing when the present was this heavenly.

Your legs parted without him having to ask, inviting his body to come between them while your hands travelled to the back of his neck. Desperate fingertips sinking into his skin in a feverish attempt to somehow pull him even closer.

"'Take it you're finally done ignorin' me?"

You nodded as you watched him push your skirt up, briefly pausing to take his gloves off with the same toothy method he’d used the last time you were in his office. You could tell it was a seldom act for him. Something he had to consciously remind himself to do, but only when he was with you.

"Good."

His mouth attentively returned back to yours, calloused but gentle fingers digging into the softness of your thigh while his thumb swiped your underwear to the side, granting him access to your weakest point.

"Fuck," he groaned, drawing light circles against you, reveling in the way your hips thrusted up for more.

As eager for a challenge as he was, he secretly loved how easy you were to please. How little it took to rob you of your composure and have your legs shaking around him. How pitiful you looked from only two of his digits slipping in and out of you. How your pupils would dilate in this delirious way each time he went deeper, but how you were still submissive enough to never break eye contact no matter how much you writhed and squirmed beneath him.

"Chuuya -"

"What is it baby?"

He could feel how close you were. Knew it wouldn't take much more to have you soaking him, but he couldn't leave for two weeks without making you cum on more than just his fingers. He needed to know what your walls felt like wrapped around him. What absolutely fucking dazed out noises you would make once he was inside of you.

He undid his belt with his freehand, not letting up on you as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt.

"Fuck, yes. P - please." You whimpered, watching him stroke himself as he carefully lined up with your center. "Please, Chuuya, ohmygod, please."

"Jesus Christ." He choked out, reeling in how pretty you sounded begging for him. Almost not being able to stop himself as he watched you come completely undone, still pleading for his dick.

He moaned against you, forehead pressed to yours as he finally found the willpower to pull his fingers out of you. His tip had just barely made it past your entrance when a loud knock brought both of you to an insanely cruel and abrupt pause.

His hand flew over your mouth, fire flickering across his blue eyes as he drew in a sharp breath.

"What?" he called out through gritted teeth.

"Plan's changed." It was Tachihara. "Mori's back. He wants you to leave now instead of tomorrow."

"Now?" The anger in his voice was palpable. "Like, right now?"

"Yeah, he's waiting in the jet."

"You can't be fuckin' serious." He grumbled, a pained expression taking hold of him as he looked back down at you, removing his hand from your mouth.

"Gimme a minute." He yelled, silently trying to ration what he was supposed to do with your body still splayed so beautifully under his.

He wanted to fuck you. God damn, he wanted to ignore everything else in the entire world and fuck you into oblivion at this point, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to either of you to have to rush through it or be stressed about the fact that someone might barge in at any second.

It needed to be the right time because you both deserved it. Especially with how many mutual pent-up emotions there now were between you.

Pulling out of you was torture, but he didn't have a choice.

You could've cried, your heart and pussy both grieving the loss of something they'd never even had.

"I swear," He said, forehead back against yours, "As soon as I get back, it's me and you, okay?"

You nodded, doing your best to swallow down your emotions.

"Okay." You finally agreed, eyes still locked with his, a faint smile poking through your frustration. "But if you're not back in two weeks, don't be surprised when you see me and Akutagawa holding hands in the hallway."

He let out a half-hearted laugh as his lips met yours, kissing you in a way that he hadn't before. Soft, lingering... affectionate.

"Hey," you whispered seriously this time, "Please be safe."

"Promise."

And with that, you began redoing the buttons on your blouse and smoothing down your skirt while you watched him grab a jacket out of his armoire, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket.

"You smoke?"

"Only when I really need one."

He shot you a wink, wrapping his arm around your waist as he walked you out of his office, not caring at all who saw.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You knew it would be awkward without him around, but you hadn't anticipated just how slow the next week would go by. You were tired. Out of ideas for cross-stitch patterns and nearly positive that your curled fingers weren't capable of creating anything else even if you wanted to.

You read manga to keep yourself busy. Looked up recipes on your phone. Took naps at your desk that left kinks in your neck. Called your friends from back home, trying to keep the conversation going long after there was nothing left to say. You were bored. Grateful to still be here, but ready for a day off that you knew wouldn't come.

The check you received on Friday was enough of a reason to stay though. It made the long days of staring at a wall worth it. You reminded yourself again and again that there would never be another job like this. That you might actually miss it one day.

You had no idea, however, just how quickly that day would actually come until you were rounding the corner back to your office and ran into Kyoto. She was the same peach-haired woman who had recruited you from the bar, only she was standing with a fresh face. A girl who looked to be about your age with big brown eyes, flowy blonde hair, and a skirt that was somehow even shorter than yours.

When you had first started, they'd told you that there would be other 'administrative assistants' coming eventually, but you'd almost forgotten about it until now.

Your eyes drifted from her to Kyoto, thinking there was surely no way you'd both be expected to share the same office with how small it was.

You started to extend a hand out to the blonde, ready to introduce yourself when you were promptly cut off by Kyoto.

"Your time here is up." She said curtly. "If there's anything you need to get out of your workstation, I suggest you do it now."

A vicious mix of anger and embarrassment churned in your stomach. "My time here is up?" You repeated blankly. "Why?"

"Mori's decided you're a distraction." She shot you a pointed look. "Especially to that of Nakahara. Now, get your things before I have you escorted out."

Your ears were ringing, your vision blurred by tears at how cold and sterile this all felt.

You went into your office for the last time, grabbing the thread kit and books out of your drawer as you made your way down the hall, looking back to see your replacement excitedly taking over the spot that was once yours.

Goodbye college, goodbye easy money, goodbye Chuuya.

You were able to hold yourself together on the train ride home and on the walk back, but the minute you made it into your apartment and closed the door behind you, everything all spilled out at once. Your crafts and manga falling from your hands as you sank down to the floor and sobbed.

You thought nothing could've been as mortifying as your first day with Port Mafia, but your last day had proved to be far worse. You were right back at square one and it felt terrible.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The next few days were a blur of filling out online job applications and revamping your resume. You'd hardly eaten. Hardly showered. Hardly done anything that involved getting out of bed.

It was Sunday and rent was due tomorrow. You'd done the math in your head - you had enough money in your savings account to live here comfortably for the next three months without any additional income. If you really pushed yourself and lived uncomfortably, you could probably even skate by for four.

But no matter how much you tried to remind yourself that there was time, you still couldn't shake the feeling of failure that you'd been left with. If you'd been fired for other reasons, it might not have hurt as bad, but the fact that it really was your fault haunted you.

You took a breath, looking over yourself in the bathroom mirror. A combination of three-day old clothes and a knotted side-bun staring back at you. You decided if you were going to continue to sulk, you could at least do it in some fresh pajamas and washed hair.

The hot water felt good beading across your skin as you scrubbed off the grime and regret that had been stuck on you since the day you’d been let go. The air filling with the smell of vanilla as you exfoliated your legs and ran a conditioning treatment through your tangled locks.

You still didn't feel great, but you felt better and that was a start.

You threw on a white tank-top with a pair of oversized grey sweatpants, running a brush through your hair when you heard the buzz of your doorbell. You froze, looking down at your phone to see the time 11:11 flash across your screen.

You hadn't had a visitor since you'd moved here, let alone had someone stop by at almost midnight.

Your footsteps were light as you crept down your hallway, cautiously peeking through the slit in your door watching him impatiently ring the buzzer again, running a hand along the back of his neck while he waited.

"Chuuya?"

"You'd make a terrible doorman, y'know that?"

It was the first time you'd laughed in the last six days, your arms wrapping around him before you even had the chance to think about what you were doing.

He didn't seem to mind though, his hands locking around your waist as you both pulled each other closer. "How did you -" Your thoughts were everywhere. "How did you find my address?"

He let out a slight laugh, his breath fanning across your neck. “I told you it'd be me and you when I got back.”

There was something so sincere about the way he said it. Something so overwhelming about the way he was looking at you. Out of all the things you'd lost recently, you were incredibly thankful he wasn't one of them.

You let him in, locking the door as he followed you down the hall.

“Sorry," you said sheepishly, realizing that you were about to bring him into the messiest part of your apartment. "It's not always like this."

He took a moment to look over your bedroom. The thumb-tacked pictures of you and your friends that decorated the space above your bed. The string lights and cloud-patterned tapestry adorning the walls. The matching baby-pink sheets and comforter set.

It looked like you. It smelled like you. And no matter how many clothes there might've been scattered across the floor or mugs piled up on your nightstand, it was still way cozier than the hotels he'd been staying at over the last two weeks.

"Looks fine to me." He shrugged, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a velvet chair next to your dresser. "How've things been since I've been gone?" he asked, taking a seat next to you on the bed with a small smirk. "You and Akutagawa official yet?"

Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared back at him, "Mori didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"I, um..." Your gaze was suddenly on the hem of your shirt as you began to fidget with it instead of looking at him. "I got fired."

"Mori fired you?" There was a sobering sharpness to his voice as he repeated it. "For what?"

You knew he'd find out one way or another, but it was still embarrassing having to relive your conversation with Kyoto. "For 'being a distraction.'" you sighed, your eyes hesitantly dragging up to his. "To you."

There was a brief moment of silence and then, a laugh.

“Huh,” he mused. “Well they're gonna be in for a real fuckin' surprise when you come in tomorrow then.”

You shook your head at him in quiet confusion. "Chuuya, I can't just show back up. Kyoto threatened to have me escorted out when I took more than five minutes to get my stuff out of my office."

His brow arched in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

"Did she?" The question was somehow calm despite the scornful undertone it carried. "Well," he breathed, gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "She's gonna really hate it when the entire building has to hear me fucking you. Every. Single. Day."

A sudden warmth washed over you, beginning at your cheeks and ending at your core as you blinked back at him cluelessly. "What are you talking about?"

"You're gonna be my personal assistant." The smirk he was wearing was lethal. "And I'll pay you more than that asshole ever did. Weekends off. Full benefits. Alla that."

"Are you -" He'd never lied to you before and you weren't sure why he'd start now, but you were struggling to wrap your mind around the fact that you'd just gone from being unemployed to promoted in a matter of minutes. "Are you serious?"

"Well yeah," He said simply, his grin softening a bit. "I mean, who else is gonna clean my office before I go on trips?"

You both smiled this time before your lips were immediately back on his. Eager, unreserved, bliss.

He fell back into the bed with you on top of him, his hands gliding along your curves while you straddled him. The flimsy straps of your tank-top slipping down your arms as you hovered over him, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He didn't care if you left marks on him. Didn't care if he showed up tomorrow smelling like your perfume with blatantly obvious bites covering his collarbone. He wanted everyone to know if they didn't already. Wanted them to stare and whisper and drop fucking dead at the sight of the two of you walking in together. It made him feral just thinking about it.

Your hips were rocking against him, your center aligned perfectly with his as you moaned at the friction your movements were creating. You could feel him growing hard beneath you, his fingers tugging at the waistband of your sweats.

"Here." he said in-between breaths, helping you out of them and tossing them onto the floor.

You started to pick up where you left off, but he stopped you, swiftly undoing his belt and adding his pants and boxers into the sea of discarded clothing too. You hadn't even been able to see it until now. Hadn't been able to fully appreciate the length and fucking girth of his cock up until this very moment.

You left another kiss on his neck and then on his chest and then on his torso, meticulously leaving them all over while making your descent down to the one place you so desperately wanted to be.

He watched you with wide eyes, your hand wrapping perfectly around him as you looked up and slowly ran your tongue along the side of his base.

"Fuuuck." His voice was heady, his hands tangling into your hair as you made your way up to his tip.

You opened your mouth wider, almost wondering how it was going to fit, but you managed. Taking him inch by inch, going down further each time until you developed a steady rhythm.

You understood why he liked going down on you so much. The noises he was making were gorgeous. Groaning out sweet little nothings the faster you went. "Doin' so fucking good for me, baby." "God, you're so pretty, y'know that?"

You kept one hand on him, gliding him in out of your mouth as the other trailed down to your clit. Feeling your own slick between your fingers only made you all the more blitzed out. You were sucking and moaning and watching him stare down at you like you had put the stars in the sky as you fingered yourself while somehow still staying focused on him.

"C'mere." It was the first coherent thing he'd said since your tongue had so lavishly graced him.

He gave your hair a gentle tug, pulling you back up so that you were almost sitting on top of him.

"I need to feel you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea." he breathed, lining himself up with you, feeling how wet you were before you'd even lowered yourself onto him.

His hands rested on your hips, your grip back around his base as you centered yourself over him.

It’d been so much just to take in your mouth, you were almost afraid of how bad this would hurt, but he was aware of his size. Letting you go at your own pace as he helped keep you steady.

The stretch he provided you with from the first couple of inches alone was noticeable, but heavenly. Your eyebrows knitting together as you looked back at him. A dazed, poutiness taking over you the further down you went.

You took him in deeper and deeper until finally, you were fully riding him.

"There you go, fuck - just like that."

He watched your head lull back, your hand reaching for his as you continued to grind against him. Both of you losing control as he began to thrust into you.

Your eyes went wide, his name echoing across the room while your walls spasmed around him.

"Sucha good girl."

His praises only made you go faster, one of your hands still locked around his and the other now palming at your chest. Squeezing your nipple between your index and ring finger as you looked back down at him. "Chuuya - 'm -"

It was hard to tell where his moans stopped and yours began, the carnal sounds synchronizing the deeper he plunged into you.

He felt another clench, and then, he was suddenly drowning in you. Completely unable to hold himself together anymore as you soaked him.

"Cum inside me." you whimpered, "Please, Chuuya. I wanna feel it. Please, please - fuck, baby, please.”

It didn't take you begging to convince him, but it certainly made it happen faster.

His ocean eyes rolled back as he thrusted into you, absolutely enamored by the sounds you were making. The way you were pleading and pouting as he filled you.

It somehow made every daydream he’d had about you seem lackluster in comparison. You were beautiful you were his.

You both stilled for a moment, trying to catch your breath before looking back at each other with the same exhausted smile.

He pulled out of you slowly, letting you collapse onto his chest as he ran light fingers through your hair. "You should probably set an alarm for tomorrow." He exhaled. "I heard your new boss is a real asshole."

"Oh yeah," You mused, leaning up so that your lips were ghosting his. "He's the worst."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[heavenlycloud]

y/n and her *inability* to say no to kazuha~ a compilation 

a/n: i’ve seen a lot of these compilation type fics circulating plus my youtube recommended always has at least one random compilation of something like this so i thought i’d give it a go here! 

i tried my best to format this to be like one of those youtube videos. the bold text means it's a caption in the video.

ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ⤹˚˖♬୭ ♡

y/n and her *inability* to say no to kazuha

────────🦋────────

↻          ◁     ||     ▷           ↺

----˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹----✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧

intro: *automated voice* 

hello everyone~ this is heavenlycloud. i just wanted to start off the video with saying that this is for joking purposes only, and i am not making assumptions about y/n and kazuha’s relationship. so please don’t doxx me or leave hate. okay lets get on with the video :)

*tv glitch screen*

clip one~ 🦊{when y/n went all the way back home to bring kazuha food even though she had plans}

“okay so i just have a lesson this morning and then i think i’m gonna go shopping? it’s my first free-ish day in weeks so i think i’m just gonna enjoy today alone.” you spoke to the video camera in english as you walked out of your dorm building. a loud buzz from your pocket grabbed your attention and you showed your phone to the camera, “zuha is calling me.” 

you put the phone to your ear, “hello?” kazuha talked on the other line and you hummed along as she spoke before finishing, “unnie will get it for you zuha-yah. alright i’ll be there soon.” you both hummed before hanging up then you told the camera, “change in plans. zuha forgot she had a photoshoot today, and ordered food to pick up. but she’s getting ready and she won’t have time to get it. so now i’m gonna pick it up, and take it back to her… technically i think kkura unnie could have done it, but oh well.”

you continued filming until you got her food, then back to the dorm where she was waiting for you. the younger girl beamed as you handed her a bag with multiple small containers, “here you go. have a good day today. you’re beautiful! nakamura kazuha number one stunner!” you shouted out the last sentence in english prompting a laugh from the younger girl. she thanked you before you had to rush back outside to head to the company building.

clip two~ 🦢{y/n dropping $6k on kazuha just bc}

DAYOFF season 4 was in full swing since you and your members had worked tirelessly for the past few months. stadium concerts, award show performances, and a months worth of comeback promotions had you and the girls spent. thankfully, you all were given another opportunity for a mini vacation with filming another season of DAYOFF. technically speaking, you all were still working since it was youtube content, but you all were free to do as you pleased. for this season you all were in singapore, staying in a 5 star hotel with a stunning view of the city down below. 

kazuha had mentioned she wanted to explore, and you’d suggested shopping which is how you all ended up in a seven floor shopping mall in the city. kazuha had entered with the mission of finding a new wallet, just something small and inexpensive that did it’s job. meanwhile, you were looking for a new handbag just because you’d grown tired of the same neutral colored bags you had. the two of you briefly looked in the Gucci and Dior stores but nothing caught your eye or kazuha’s. to be fair, she didn’t pay much attention to the bags the fashion advisor showed you since everything was out of her budget…by a long shot. 

the last store you entered for yourself was Prada in hopes that they’d have a piece you’d actually like. you immediately found a line that caught your eye, and asked an associate to show you the options available currently. much to your surprise, kazuha was engaged with the entire interaction, marveling at the alabaster pink handbag and wallet you requested to see. the younger woman’s gaze lingered on a powder blue version of the wallet you were holding, so you told the associate to also bring it over too. kazuha gasped, “it’s so pretty, i like this style a lot too.” there was a teasing tone as kazuha joked, “you should get this for me.” this only intended to be a playful comment she usually made when shopping with yunjin when the two found something impractical, unsightly, or outrageously expensive compared to their budget. when you pulled the associate’s attention once more, kazuha sneakily peeked at the price tag, on the wallet in hopes that maybe on some off chance she could buy it. yet, you noticed how kazuha’s eyes widened when she saw the $750 price tag. 

me seeing they raised prices by $0.25 at the dollar tree 

kazuha mumbled something about going to find the Daiso store on the mall directory outside when lightly pulled her back by her hand. you motioned for the associate to hold when you asked kazuha, “did you like this one, princess?” kazuha nodded and said, “it’s classic and not too flashy. it suits you really well i think.” you sighed and asked once more, “i meant for yourself.” her face fell and she murmured nervously while eying the associate, “yeah, i like this shade of blue…sky blue.”you turned back to the associate and told him in english, “all four items please, and separate bags. the blue is for her, and the pink for myself.” 

beside you kazuha quickly rushed out in a panicked tone, “no no no no no- unnie, i can’t afford to pay you for this kind of thing. i’ll lose it.” you let out a small laugh and said, “you’re right, you do lose stuff a lot…” for a moment you remained silent until asking the associate, “can you add the AirTag holder for the blue set please?” the associate smiled and quickly went to grab one to add to your transaction. while the associate was retrieving your last items, kazuha told you in a confused tone, “i don’t have AirTags?” the associate came back and rang all of your items up, “two Small Prada Galleria Saffiano leather bags, one in Alabaster Pink and one in Light Blue. two small Saffiano and leather wallet, one Alabaster Pink, one Light Blue. one Saffiano AirTag holder in Light Blue. which brings your total to $10, 971.” you shuffled through your four different credit cards and answered without sparing kazuha a glance, “i’ll buy you some.” you checked twice before choosing the right card, and tapping it on the screen reader. 

RICH GIRL Y/N (no actually wtf cuz how does she have a black card at 23?)

*bonus*~ {y/n dropping $6k on kazuha pt. 2}

“hello this is le sserafim’s kazuha. today i am going to introduce the items i have in my handbag.” the japanese idol held up the light blue handbag and pointed out, “this is the Prada Saffino leather bag, on the outside here i have AirTag in the matching holder.” she unclipped the holder and said, “i have 4 of these and they’re engraved with カズハ on the back. they’re very helpful with making sure i don’t lose my things.” 

y/n bought and engraved *FOUR* AirTags for Zuha

clip three~ 🦊{zuha and y/n studio choom mix & max}

when kazuha was told that she was requested to perform for studio choom apart from her members, she was beyond excited. for the first time in her idol career she had full creative control over her performance with plenty of ideas to match. however, within a week of the three week long preparation period, she realized something was still lacking. kazuha lost sleep for days trying to figure out what the issue was, until she had a spontanous shared practice with you. 

although you were presently known as the main rapper of your group, it was very well known that prior to being an idol you were a dancer. classical ballet training along with some contemporary and lyrical dance made up nearly eighteen years of your life. you’d never completely left that part of you behind even after becoming an idol. since debuting, your focus wasn’t solely on classical training anymore, that had become a ‘glorified hobby’ as your choreographer called it. nevertheless, you found yourself dancing alongside kazuha during early mornings or late nights when the two of you missed your past a little more than usual. dancing alongside kazuha, you felt like that missing piece was filled as you both complemented one another so effortlessly. 

kazuha pulled out the filming camera to capture more moments of her behind the scenes process to her new project. you sat on the floor with one foot in your foot stretcher when kazuha nudged you, “unnie…can you help me with this project?” you looked up from your phone and set it aside, turning all of your attention to your member, “yeah, what’s wrong?” kazuha pouted and you poked her cheek until she admitted, “i really really want you to perform with me. can you?” immediately your face fell and your stomach sank at the thought since you haven’t performed ballet, contemporary, or lyrical in years. kazuha could see your hesitance and she explained, “i’m dancing to young and beautiful by lana del rey. it’s all choreography that you’ve done before i’m sure. i just know i’m missing something and it doesn’t feel right alone, but i can if it’s too much. i know you don’t really perform like that anymore so….” you shook your head and assured her, “no it’s fine. of course i’ll perform with you, zuha.” she beamed and let out an excited squeal before leaning over and throwing herself into your arms. 

the entire preparation process was a lot more intense than you thought it would be. although you had still continued dancing, doing a full scale performance required a lot more technique than practicing alone for fun. additionally, kazuha was also getting in her own head especially when it came to lifts and holds. if her hesitance continues then you’d have to get rid of the moves because she’d then be posing a risk to her own safety, and yours.

kazuha had been practicing with you for nearly three hours and you were still struggling to pull the performance together. you sat on the floor with your elbows on your knees and palms against your temples. letting out a deep breath you told her, “this isn’t working.” the younger woman reached for the camera that was still recording you both but you stopped her, “leave it on. it’s going to be fine.” you pressed your back against the wall and kazuha sat back down beside you with her head down. carefully nudging her, you motioned for her to sit between your legs, her back against your front. she obliged and you began running your hands through her hair, “relax.”  

your other arm wrapped around kazuha’s torso and you rested your cheek against her bare shoulder, moving her tank top strap away from your face. she let out a breath and you could feel that she was going to cry from stress. ever so gently, you kissed her shoulder and assured, “shhhh we’ll be fine. just relax for a minute, okay?” your fingers grazed her bicep lightly as you just kept your eyes closed for a moment. 

they’re so soft for one another i can’t do this anymore

kazuha lifted her head from your shoulder and stretched her legs from the folded position they were in. you opened your eyes and told her, “you have to trust me. i got you, i’m not gonna drop you or let you fall. i’m not gonna let anything happen okay?” kazuha nodded against your shoulder and you smiled, squeezing her side making her yelp in surprise. you gently pushed for her to stand up, “alright let’s do this.” 

and if you haven’t seen their performance go watch it NOW because they worked so hard

clip four 🦢~ {members making kazuha ask for things because it’s the only way y/n agrees}

“we could be the winx club fairies!” 

“no”

“we could be the disney princesses!”

“no.” 

“what about the avengers?” 

“no because you’re all gonna try to make me the hulk.” 

“the friends characters?” 

“absolutely not.” 

“harry potter characters!” 

“Wait…never mind i’m just kidding. no.” 

you had turned down every suggestion yunjin and eunchae threw your way regarding a group costume for the HYBE halloween party this year. honestly, the suggestions weren’t bad but you just weren’t big on the holiday. yunjin and chaewon thought they were setting you up to say yes by having a livestream on, so you’d be inclined to agree to look like a nice unnie for your members. but, you knew their game which is exactly why you didn’t agree even though you liked yunjin’s first suggestion. 

eunchae read the comments and gave more suggestions that you continued to refuse until kazuha entered the room and distracted the youngest member. you beamed with a wide smile, “my zuha!” your other two members pretended to cry and dramatically said, “see she loves zuha more than us!” you rolled your eyes and denied with a smug grin, “no i love my members equally.” the comments flooded with fans jokingly calling bullshit, just because they knew you had a very small inclination to lean in favor of kazuha. 

you patted kazuha’s thigh for her to stand up and you murmured for only them to hear, “i’ll be right back.” when you left the room and closed the door, yunjin and eunchae immediately explained to kazuha, “we need halloween costumes and y/n won’t agree on anything so we need you to pick from our list and ask.” eunchae added on, “she’ll say yes if it’s you.” kazuha looked at the list on yunjin’s phone and quickly looked through online searches to pick her favorite one. when you came back and sat down, kazuha stood up before sitting back on your lap and playing with your fingers that rested against her leg. she shot a small smile to the camera and proposed, “fearnot are saying you all were talking about halloween costumes. did you guys pick one yet?” you shook your head and said, “no, do you have any ideas?” 

kazuha shrugged and said, “i don’t know some of the ones people are suggesting. i think they’re from american shows or something?” yunjin played along, secretly loving the way you were already starting to fall for their trap. she leaned over and showed kazuha a few of them just to make it seem like they weren’t setting you up. eunchae made small comments about the ones she liked until kazuha had yunjin stop on one internet tab. the japanese girl showed you yunjin’s phone and asked, “can we do this one?” she paused and then said in her best american accent, “monster high.” you looked over the screen and smiled sweetly, “yeah sure who do you wanna be?” immediately eunchae and yunjin’s jaws hit the floor as they sat in disbelief that you actually agreed after refusing both of them when they asked. kazuha let out a laugh and you did the same while the comments flooded with fans calling you out for your obvious favoritism. when you stopped laughing you looked at the camera and admitted, “everyone i was going to say yes to their costume suggestions later on, i swear. it’s just funny to see their reaction like this! i love my girls, don’t misunderstand okayyyyy?” 

sure y/n…whatever you say ;)

clip five 🦊~  {y/n who’s afraid of water agreeing to swim with kazuha}

“what is something we don’t know about you?” you read the question aloud as it appeared on the screen in front of you. for the first time in weeks you had finally found time to have a solo livestream for fearnot after practice one evening. for a moment you thought and mused, “something you all don’t know… hmm.” suddenly you remembered the word, and said, “i have aquaphobia.”immediately you responded, “i’m not afraid of drinking water or showering. i’m scared of swimming pools, oceans, lakes, seas, and stuff like that.” 

you stopped for a moment and saw comments asking why so you explained, “when i was little my mom put me into swimming lessons. i think i was about five years old international age at the time, and my brother, was 13 or 14 but i can’t exactly remember?  at the end of the lessons we got out of the pool and went to find our parents in the lobby area. usually i got out of the pool and walked to find my older brother on the other side because he was on the swimming team, and they practiced while i was in lessons. this one day i decided i was going to walk through the pool to the other side because i saw another girl do it, and walking outside always made me cold. so, i jumped into the other pool and started walking towards my older brother. but i didn’t know this pool got deeper because the one they teach little kids in was all 1 meter deep. the water went from 1 meter to 1.5 quickly and i started to drown because all i knew how to do back then was hold my breath. i just remember i screamed a lot and i got water in my nose, mouth, ears, and eyes. my brother was the one that saved me because the lifeguards were with the other kids and parents, but heard me all the way across the pool and he was the one who got me. but after that i didn’t take lessons again until i was eight years old because i was too scared.” you skimmed the comments from fans and most of them said they also had a similar experience or said something else supportive.  upon noticing a comment regarding your brother you added, “yeah my brother is a good older brother. after that day he picked me up from lessons every time after that. he taught me how to float too in case i ever fell in again but even though i can swim now i don’t like getting in water anymore.” 

“unnie come to the pool with me!” eunchae insisted as she ran around the large house that your company rented for a new episode of a show you all were filming. you slipped on your flip flops and followed her so you could sit on the pool side and dip your feet in while she played. the rest of your members were in the kitchen cooking something for dinner, and had everything under control. eunchae jumped into the pool and you snapped a few pictures of her while telling her how cute she was. you heard footsteps behind you and kazuha sat beside you after taking off her slippers. eunchae waved the japanese girl over and kazuha slipped into the water and joined eunchae in her games. 

you simply watched the two of the girls as they enjoyed the water and shot each other with water guns and pool toys. eunchae ended up getting out after a while because she was tired of the water, but kazuha was still full of energy. she looked over at you and asked, “don’t you wanna get in? the wait’s really warm.” you thought about it and sighed, hesitantly taking off your mic pack and setting it aside. slowly you lowered yourself into the water, standing against the pool wall as the water stopped just below your neck. eventually you were chasing kazuha around in the pool and it was like you were never scared of water in the first place. the younger girl jumped on your back and wrapped her legs around your waist with her arms around your neck. she beamed, “thank you unnie!” you bent backwards a little and dipped her into the water before laughing, “anything for you, zuha.” 

[chakoru]

habits they developed in your relationship

౨ৎ seventeen

seungcheol - massages

imagine this: you’re laying on the sofa with your legs across his lap. he’d just softly massage you. not too hard yet not too soft to the point where you wouldn’t feel a thing. sitting in silence and letting the background ambience soothe over you both is his ideal pass time. being in your presence is a gift he will forever cherish.

jeonghan - photos

snaps a picture of you at every given chance. If you’re just walking hand-in-hand, he’d tug your hand and tell you to smile whilst he pulls out his phone and takes a picture of you. trust, he has an album just for you on his phone with 300+ pictures.

joshua - sticky notes

you woke up alone this morning. rolling over and finding nothing but an empty joshua sized dent in the mattress. groaning as you stretch out your arms and head for the restroom. you open the door, and there it is - todays notes. “had to leave early, i miss you already:(” another on the fridge read “made something special, eat up my love”. even in his absence he could make you grin like a child.

jun - breakfast

if you’ve come home stressed the day before he’d plan a cozy day for the two of you to relax. some days he’ll wake up early to cook up breakfast; if you were really feeling worn out, he’d go as far as to print out a ‘menu’ with options like “water on the rocks” to be fancy. always expect a whipped cream happy face on your pancakes.

hoshi - writing reviewing

when he comes up with lyrics or just simple ideas that he thinks could possibly be good—he’d immediately rush to you. always beyond excited to hear your opinions and grow from them. a lot of times he’ll write something about you and let you read it out to see if you’d notice, if you do, he wiggles his eyebrows and throws in a comment like “idk i just kinda wrote about this person i’ve been obsessed with lately” and smirks at you.

wonwoo - games w you

he’s a gamer. we know this, he enjoys being left alone to play games but recently he’ll wait for you to join him. he wouldn’t bombard you either. once he notices that you’ve finished whatever you were doing, only then will he ask if you’d want to play with him. if you didn’t really feel like playing and just watching, he’d pull you into his lap and stay like that. he just wants you near, the feeling of your heartbeat soothes him.

woozi - back hugs

he isn’t big on pda, which is the complete opposite of you. You’d hug him and kiss up to him at any and every chance you got. He’s gotten very used to it and started showing his love in the same way. You’re cooking? Walks behind you and just hugs you. Laying down? snuggles behind you. He just adores you in silence.

dokyeom - soft talking

no matter how strong you put yourself up as, he’ll forever see you as a fragile piece of art that deserves to be handled with extreme care. once he gets home, he drops the screaming and just cuddles into you—absorbing your scent and immediately melting. won’t ever raise his voice at you, ever. but he does love to talk, and when he does, he uses the sweetest voice you’ve ever heard. and it’s only for you.

mingyu - playing with your hair

he will watch youtube videos on braiding and all that. he loves running his fingers through your hair, and if you happen to have curly hair, he’d love to play with it all night. you are so mesmerizing to him in every way possible. if you got the sudden urge to dye your hair, he’d ask for permission to do it himself.

minghao - follows you

he’s very firm on his own decisions, but with you, he’d do whatever you please. suddenly feel like shopping? ok, get in the car. like that. there are times when you think maybe you’re too pushy, bc why else would he be obeying you like a puppy??  but he always—Always reashures you that it’s purely because he loves you and would absolutely do anything to keep you smiling.

seungkwan - journaling

he would sometimes stay days away from home for work, and in that time he’d often find himself writing for you. at first he found it odd, he’s never written like this. but soon enough he ends up purchasing a blank book. when he misses you or even when he just has too much running through his mind—he writes it out. he wrote you a few cheesy poems he thought were publishing material.

vernon - painting your nails

when you first asked him to help you, he was struggling. he didn’t think it would be so difficult to just paint.  “ja-jan..” he mumbles as he shows off your freshly painted cuticles, you let out a laugh when he looked away in embarrassment. since then it’s become second nature to him. he goes out every now and then just to buy a few new colors he thought would look so amazing on you. surprisingly enough, he’s gotten better than you, designs and all.

dino - just dance

he loves being in your presence. with you just being near him, he’s comfortable. but sometimes he just can’t sit still. one morning you were forced out of your sleep by the exageratingly loud noise of music. upon walking into the parlor, there he is, dancing to crazy in love by beyoncé, “join me” he asked. since then it’s been normal to play these with him. it gets so competetive, if he lost severly he’d grumble all day. but he loves that time with you best of all.

[alastrrz]

headcannons for getting drunk with tgc?

like how high their tolerance to alcohol is,

what they usually have,

and stuff similar?

ignore my 'ideas' if you dont wanna do them <3

🫧 anon

absolutely!! i love making hcs like this (i also won't be including larry bc he isn't of legal age to drink :P)

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 drunk ; tgc boys

　 ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

genre/type: fluff/humor, headcanons

read below!

ISAAC;

absolute unbeatable tolerance. insane tolerance. dude can take 6 shots of everclear and still walk a straight line.

you've only seen isaac blackout ONCE, and it was complete accident. you hadn't seen isaac drinking that much, but he was actually borderline drunk. he asked you in a pretty sober sounding voice, "how many drinks have i had? should i stop?" you say, "i've only seen you take like 2 shots. drink some more!"

horrible move. he blacked out and also woke up with the world's worst hangover.

ever since then though, his tolerance, like i said, is rock solid.

he likes the classic drinks, so i'd say he likes a good screwdriver.

super clingy and COCKY when he's drunk.

drowning you in kisses and hugs, and he goes, "babe, i'm soooo hot. i'm soooo hot and sexy.."

"sure you are."

your two options are to kill his ego or boost it, but it kills you too much to deflate his ego.

"how cocky was i last night?"

"yeah."

TANNER;

moderately normal tolerance, maybe a TINY bit lower than the average person in their mid-20's.

like, if we're measuring in shots of vodka again, like 4 1/2 shots he'd be gone. not black out gone, but "i'm gonna talk about every celebrity i could probably pull" gone.

he's such a YAPPER when he's drunk dude.

will probably do the trend of writing fake band names to try and make you laugh

he's dancing around to loud ass music in the kitchen, invites you to dance with him, he immediately starts shoving himself against you

he won't shut up about how much he loves you

he's definitely got his head in your lap and he's making you play with his hair and listen to him talk

however you have to stop him talking at a certain point, because he'll just start having a crisis and making himself sad.

he's never blacked out, but he has terrible hangovers.

favorite drink? he strikes me as a daiquiri kinda guy. he'd love them.

but if it's more casual drinking at home, he's happy with some soju.

NICK;

literally AVERAGE tolerance.

about 2-3 shots of vodka has him tipsy, 4-6 has him drunk, and don't give him more than 8, he might start drunkenly making an album.

he's not a clear liquor guy, he prefers browns like brandy or scotch.

there is almost ALWAYS a bottle of whiskey in the fridge for nick, he never runs out.

he drinks regularly, but he doesn't HEAVILY drink on those nights.

he's super sleepy when he's drunk. he could literally fall asleep anywhere if given the opportunity

he could be laying on the floor to "stretch his back" he's asleep 10 minutes later

you have to carry this dude to bed (and if you can't do it alone, isaac helps you)

like i said he prefers drinking brown liquors, so i think he'd maybe like a tequila sunrise or just straight whiskey

BLAKE;

"i have a ROCK SOLID tolerance!" dead in 3 shots. don't listen to him lie to you

every time you and the guys go out for dinner at like chilis or something, blake orders a margarita and everyone sighs in unison

the margarita gets him on the verge of drunk. just a little past tipsy.

he can HARDLY casually drink with anyone because his tolerance is just THAT bad

you constantly pick at him for it but he's just accepted it at this point

he's so SILLY when he's drunk man

cracking jokes that do NOT land at all and are not funny unless he's talking to a bunch of drunk people

"so the.. uh.. what? yeah.. uh.."

he suddenly forgets english

he can barely formulate a SINGLE sentence and he's basically speaking in mumbles

he's like speaking in fancy or speaking in riddles like a troll under the bridge or some shit

you have to baby him while he's drunk or he won't know what the hell is going on

i think he honestly.. just likes whatever he can get his hands on.

[delicatefestcloud]

I just saw someone call movie firstprince toxic bc Henry told Alex "sometimes I feel like you don't know me at all..."

I can't believe people, especially those who read the book, could miss the point of that scene entirely: Henry was terrified. He believed that coming out was not an option AT ALL for him. So what he meant by "you don't know me" was "you don't know that I can't do what you're asking of me" which is to fight for their love. During that whole monologue, Alex was quiet, listening as Henry let all his frustrations out:

" I didn't grow up with a loving family"

"I have centuries of history bearing down on my shoulders"

"I can't afford to be reckless"

"I will not trade one prison for another"

These are legitimate points that Henry was making, and Alex respected that, but he also understood that Henry was looking at what Alex wanted: for them to be happy together - not out (yet), just together- as impossible because it's not sustainable to live in different continents and have a secret relationship forever when you're a prince and he's an aspiring politician. With the spotlight on both of you like that, you will be found out. Alex finally understood just how "out of the question" Henry believed them being together publicly to be. That's why he told him "fine, I'll leave, but nothing will ever happen to you (if you decide that you can never let anyone love you. You will live the rest of your life alone, is that what you want?)."

Henry was then forced to see that he is at a crossroads:

Either he lets Alex go, never see him again, live his life in a way that the crown approves of, and never be happy.

Or,

Admit to himself that the love he has for Alex and the happiness he found with him are worth the terrifying notion of one day facing his grandfather and the country and saying "This is who I am, this is the man I love, I know you'll never accept that, but i'll take your disapproval over not being with him -over being miserable for the rest of my life."

He chose the latter. How could he not? when Alex, the love of his life, the man of his dreams, flew across the ocean for him, and was standing right there, in tears, fighting for them, all while making it clear that he will respect Henry's wishes if he tells him to leave.

This scene started with both Alex and Henry seeing something that the other did not see: Alex did not see just how walled-up Henry was about the idea of them ever being able to love each other in public. And Henry did not see that there just may be a chance for them to be happy. That him living his life alone and miserable is NOT set in stone.

I love this scene so much because they actually listened to each other. They both considered the points the other was making. Neither of them was trying to "win" the argument. They were both stripping themselves bare, being the most vulnerable they've ever been in front of each other.

Henry did not just change his mind out of nowhere: for the first time in his life, he was given a glimmer of hope, and he let himself be brave enough to take it.

[shanastoryteller]

Hi, I'm a huge fan of your Gods and Monsters series but I had a question: have you already written the piece where Aphrodite and Hephaestus fall in love? Bc I could have sworn there was one about that, but I Cannot find it so now I'm wondering if that's one of the things that isn't written/posted yet. No pressure either way, I just wanted to check!

Aphrodite is named the goddess of love and beauty by Hera, the queen of the gods herself, and is given a gleaming throne of pristine ivory in the pantheon.

Aphrodite is named the goddess of love, and many take that as an invitation.

She understands quickly that Hera has not only dictated her domain, but also offered Aphrodite her protection, however oblique. Hera’s power on her tempers greedy hands and greedy eyes, making them ask for what in other circumstances they might simply take, and she resents that it’s something she should be grateful for.

The sea that bore her isn’t even an option anymore. She feels Poseidon’s gaze on her like a snail crawling across her skin, leaving oozing evidence of all the places it’s been. She thinks that her mother would help her, but she does not know.

Amphitrite made her and left her and sent her to the pantheon, full of danger that she does not understand.

She’s known the sea and the sky but worries about venturing from Mount Olympus, where distance from Hera’s influence might embolden some of her suitors.

She is a daughter of Zeus and Amphitrite. Power comes to her as easily as breathing, but she has no wish to test that power against gods with far more experience than she.

Hestia’s fire is always warm and soft and no one dares approach her while she’s in its light. Aphrodite forces herself to stay in the oppressive heat far past the point of comfort, staying closer to the flame than anyone besides the hearth goddess herself.

“So you’re who everyone is talking about.”

She startles, turning, and is first faced with a broad, tanned chest, then lifts her gaze further to look into a face with dark amber eyes and hair as long as her own. There’s blood splatter along his neck and unease curls within her stomach.

“I can’t stay,” he continues, looking her over. She appreciates that he doesn’t linger too long in certain areas and looks her in the eye after. It’s a low bar, perhaps, but many fail to clear it. “You impressed my mother, which isn’t easy.”

“Lord Ares,” she greets. Hera only has one child – well, two, but only one that ever ventures onto Olympus.

She should have guessed sooner. He looks so much like Zeus, except for Hera’s eyes clear in his face.

He waves dismissively. “None of that. We’re equals, aren’t we?”

Not really. The beloved child of the king and queen of the gods, the god of war, someone who does not even sweat in the heat of Hestia’s flame. And her.

“I suppose,” she answers. “How can I help you, Ares?”

“I just wanted to talk,” he says. “Rumor has it that you haven’t left Olympus. You may be a goddess of the pantheon on my mother’s word, but you have to cultivate worshippers just the same. They know you, but they do not what you will do.”

Neither does she.

“Can I go with you?” she asks impulsively.

It’s a stupid request. If Ares wants to overpower her, he will, and there won’t be anything she can do about it.

But he’s Hera’s son. That has to mean something.

“A battlefield isn’t a place for love,” he says, which isn’t a refusal.

“Of course it is,” she says, taken aback. “Otherwise what are they fighting for?”

Ares stares at her for a long moment. She refuses to do anything besides meet his gaze.

Finally, he says, “I can’t tell if you’re naïve or I’m cynical.”

“Love starts wars, but it ends them too,” she says. Maybe she is naïve, when she’s never even met a mortal herself, but with power over a domain comes knowledge of it too. “If not for love, why do men so desperately want peace?”

“Love means peace then?” he asks.

There is something heavy in that question, something she doesn’t understand, and it causes her to hesitate. But in the end she says, “Yes,” because it’s the only answer that can be true and she wants to be truthful to someone.

Ares holds her gaze then says, “You can come with me, if you want. It won’t be pretty.”

“Then perhaps they can use a goddess of beauty,” she says, excitement pulling her lips into a grin.

He shakes his head, but offers her his hand, and she takes it.

~

Under Ares’s protection, she feels as if she can finally breathe.

Aphrodite doesn’t know if Ares is aware that he is protecting her, since it’s less something he does and more something that is achieved through him existing, but she doubts the son of Hera is a dull man. That doesn’t seem like the sort of thing that the queen would tolerate.

Gods and nymphs and other manner of creatures still approach her, but all it takes is for her to hurry back to Ares’s side for them to abandon their pursuit. She’s not sure if it’s his parentage, his domain, or just the striking figure he makes on the battlefield, but they don’t follow her when she goes to him.

But she is not always with him.

Athena corners her on the city path. Aphrodite meets the goddess’s grey eyed gaze squarely. “You’re causing too much trouble.”

She’d seemed nice when Aphrodite first met her in the pantheon, but after Hera gifted her her domain, that kindness hasn’t resurfaced. She doesn’t take it personally, although she does wonder at its absence.

Athena, like Aphrodite, is a daughter of Zeus that has escaped Hera’s wrath through the virtue of being motherless.

Aphrodite is not motherless, precisely, but no one can know of her connection to Amphitrite, and it’s not like her mother stuck around long after bringing her into this world anyway.

“Ares said he doesn’t mind,” she says.

“Of course he doesn’t,” she sneers, looking her up and down derisively. “Everyone is talking about you and pursing you and nothing else is getting done.”

She draws her shoulders back. “That’s not my fault.”

Athena shrugs, not willing to say it is outright but clearly comfortable with implying it.

“What do you want me to do about it?” she asks, and knows it’s a mistake as soon as it leaves her mouth.

Athena doesn’t miss a beat. “Put everyone out of their misery and get married. They’ll cool off and get back to work if you’re ineligible, even if only in name.”

She’s not a goddess of loyalty, but the implication still stings. She’s been going through all this effort to avoid either bedding or offending everyone, after all. “I can’t just marry someone.”

“Why not? Hera will probably even officiate it, considering the interest she’s taken in you,” she says.

Before Aphrodite can respond, Ares appears at her side, slipping out of air as easily as taking a step. He’s covered in viscera and for a moment she puzzles over his newly red hair before realizing it’s soaked in blood. She doesn’t even want to know how that happened.

“Hello Athena,” he says brightly. “It’s so rare to see you outside of a library, we should really catch up-”

She disappears mid eyeroll.

Ares grins. “What did you do to her?”

“Thank you,” she says first, then, “I have no idea. She’s so angry. Is she not well liked in the pantheon?”

He shrugs. “Depends what you mean by liked. She makes a lot of enemies, but she’s not that bad. She gets frustrated a lot because she thinks she’s smarter than everyone around her.”

“Is she?” Aphrodite asks.

“Usually, yeah,” he looks around then bends down to whisper in her ear, careful to angle his filthy body away from her, “Hestia says that when she sprung from Father’s head, she took all his intelligence with her. Mom says that’s giving him too much credit.”

She laughs before she can think not to, then claps her hand over her mouth, as if Zeus is standing around the corner ready to smite her for mocking him. He is the king of the gods. Maybe he is always watching.

“It’s alright,” he says warmly, “just don’t repeat it where he can hear it. Or Athena. She’d throw a fit at the implication that her intelligence is anything but her own.”

If she ever decides to invite trouble rather than avoiding it, that seems like an excellent way to do it. “Are you okay? That looks messy.”

“Battle’s won, for now,” he says casually, rolling back his shoulders and wincing at the motion. “I’ve got some time before another one calls me there. I could use a good soak. Want to meet my brother?”

“Which one?” she asks even though she already know the answer. Of all his siblings, Ares claims only one of them.

“You don’t have to play dumb when we’re alone,” he says, which is suitably stunning that when he holds out his filthy hand, she doesn’t think to clean it before taking it. She hadn’t thought he’d noticed. “Come on.”

There’s the strange rushing sensation of being pulled along rather than moving herself. They’re in someplace dark, compared to the outside, and it takes her several seconds to adjust to the low lighting.

Everything glitters.

There’s shining metal twisted into exquisite shapes and liquid gold dripping like fondue and even the walls themselves shimmer in the light of the magma, the mica flickering silver.

There is a man with deep, dark skin and narrowed amber eyes. He has broad shoulders and a tapered waist and as her gaze drops even further, she sees the golden legs supporting him below the knee, as delicate and beautiful as all strange things scattered around his workshop.

“I hope that’s not yours,” the man says.

He has a nice voice. It’s low and yet it almost echoes around them. It takes her a moment to process what he’s said, and her confusion lasts only until Ares’s lips twist into a not quite smile and he replies, “It never is,” and she realizes he’s talking about the blood and worse covering Ares.

She wonders at her place here, what to do or how to act around this man surrounded by beautiful things who doesn’t even look at her.

Ares pulls his hair from its braid and blood splatters on the floor. “I’m going for a dip. This is Aphrodite. Be nice. Aphrodite, this is my brother, Hephaestus.”

“Goddess,” Hephaestus murmurs, inclining his head.

She returns the gesture, trying to untangle the strange frown and the look in his eye. It’s not like Athena’s anger but it doesn’t exactly seem friendly either. She’s still pondering it when Ares’s words catch up with her. “Take a dip where? There’s no-”

She turns to see Ares slipping into a vat of lava, fully clothed. The blood and dirt and everything else is burned away, along with every stitch of clothing he’d been wearing. He tilts his head back into the magma to give his hair the same scouring treatment.

“Water,” she finishes faintly.

“It never gets any less disconcerting,” Hephaestus says. The strange tone is gone and when she turns back to him, he’s smiling.

He has a nice smile.

“What are you making?” she asks. “Are you the god of creation?”

She’s said the wrong thing again and she’s aware of it as soon as his amusement dims. She desperately wants to take it back, to say something different, but it’s too late. “I am the god of nothing.”

“People pray to you,” she says. “I have seen them.”

Her temples are all still being constructed but several of his already exist.

“Mortals pray to lots of things,” he answers, going back to tinkering. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yet,” she says. He survived being thrown from Olympus and being raised in the underworld and now he makes things he still hasn’t told her about. “When they pray to you, what do they pray for?”

“Same thing they pray to every god for,” he answers. She doesn’t say anything and he sighs. “It’s not exciting. Hotter ovens. Faster chariots. Sharper spears. My brother’s a better candidate for that one.”

Aphrodite turns to Ares, but finds him curled against the edge of the crevice, the lava lapping at his shoulders as he sleeps with his head tipped back.

“Heat always knocks him out. Hestia used to hold him as she sat it front of her fire.”

This time she knows it’s the wrong thing to say before she says it, but she can’t stop herself from asking, “How do you know? I thought that you didn’t come to Olympus.”

“Didn’t,” he echoes, “is a soft way to put it, when it’s can’t.”

Even nymphs sneak their way up the mountain. A god with temples, even a minor one, should be able to walk freely across Olympus. Then again, Hera insured he wouldn’t walk freely anywhere.

Or tried to. His shimmering gold calves are in defiance to that.

He clears his throat then says, “She told me. Ares badgered me into setting up a hearth in the center of the volcano, even though arguably the whole thing is a hearth, but,” he pauses. “She visits it, sometimes.”

Aphrodite is impressed. “I thought she never left her own hearth.”

“Any hearth is her hearth,” he says, shrugging.

He’s sidestepping her, but she’s brought up enough sensitive topics for now. “What are you making?”

“Nothing useful,” he says ruefully, looking around his workshop. “If I wanted to get more followers, I’d focus on making things people can use. A lot of these are godly tools – only we can use them effectively.”

“Will you show me?” she insists. “They’re beautiful.”

His lips part, his dark eyes catching hers, and there’s a breathless moment where neither of them move. Then he turns and says, “Sure, come with me,” and she follows behind him, watching the smooth gait of his handcrafted legs.

~

Next time she’s on Olympus, she goes to Hera to ask her advice.

Aphrodite is currently under both her and her son’s protection. This isn’t a decision it’s politically smart of her to make on her own.

She waits until Zeus has left. His absence tends to put Hera in a foul mood, considering what he’s likely to be doing out of her sight, but it’s worth that to make sure that they’re not overheard. Aphrodite doesn’t think that any advice Zeus gives will be in her self interest.

Hera’s might not be either, but so far whatever she’s doing for her own self interest has been beneficial to Aphrodite, and that’s enough for her.

She bows and offers her a bouquet of lilies that she’d picked herself, each one a bright orange reddish hue and perfectly in bloom. Hera reaches out to touch a petal, but pulls back and says, “Weave them into my hair while we speak.”

Aphrodite can’t help herself from being touched. Hera always does her own hair, not even allowing her servants to touch it. She delicately combs out Hera’s curls, giving her hair waves to match the curve of the lilies’ petals. Aphrodite tells her what Athena said to her, then waits.

“She’s right,” Hera says. “As the goddess of love and beauty, you’re inherently desirable. Until you make your own desires known, others can decide what they are, and decide that they qualify. Marriage at least sets your standards.”

Aphrodite frowns. “So you think I should marry?”

She shrugs. “Gods like to pretend that beauty is cheap and love is something bought.” Suddenly, Hera’s appointment of her domain makes a little more sense. “But if that were true, they wouldn’t be pursuing you so ardently. Marriage won’t change that. What it does is give you a tool that you can use.”

“That’s not very romantic,” she says, put out.

Hera laughs, tossing her head with the motion, and Aphrodite has to pull back to keep from crushing the flowers. “Is that what you value?”

“Yes,” she answers, but it comes out more like a question.

“Then that’s what you should marry for – romance. Apollo will likely come ahead on that scale.” She moves back in place so Aphrodite can continue. “There is a reason that as the goddess of marriage, love does not fall within my domain. Marriage is about getting what you want. Some want love, or beauty, and so that’s what they marry for. Other for money, for power, for protection. Decide what it is that you want and then marry the person who can give it to you. That’s why your marriage will be a deterrent to others. It will tell them what you value.”

Hera did not marry for love. Aphrodite doesn’t need to be a goddess of it to know that. “Do you think I should marry your son?”

Ares is the most obvious answer. She’s spent the most time with him, and he’s kind to her, and he protects her. He’s not especially romantic, but he cares for her. No one else pursuing her knows her enough to care for her.

“If he’ll give you what you want,” she says. Aphrodite finishes affixing the last lily to her hair, and she turns to face her, her amber eyes bright with an emotion Aphrodite can’t name. “Choose your spouse. We’ll hold the wedding on Olympus and I’ll marry you myself. No one will question it after that.”

“Thank you, Queen Hera,” she says.

When Hera walks away, it’s with fire weaved into her hair.  

~

Ares is silent for a long time when Aphrodite tells him that she’s looking to marry. She thinks he’s about to offer, and the ball of dread in her stomach is both surprising and informative. She loves Ares. She does not want to marry him.

This is an inopportune time for her to realize that.

“If we were to marry, would I find peace?” he asks. “Everything is so loud sometimes.”

Her heart clenches. In this moment she hates for the first time. Zeus did this to Ares and that makes Zeus her enemy.

“When you find love, you will find peace,” she says, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I can’t be your peace. If that’s what I was, you would know by now. But when you do find that person, that loudness will fade.”

There’s a pressure around them and centered in her head, giving her a searing headache, and then it’s gone and its only Ares’s hands on her elbows that keep her upright as she staggers, suddenly exhausted.

 “Your first blessing,” Ares says, smiling as she blinks up at him, dazed. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t know I could do that,” she says fuzzily.

He laughs. “You’re a goddess of the pantheon. There’s very little you can’t do. You’ll discover that in time.”

She thinks he’s trying to be comforting, but the idea that her abilities are beyond her own knowledge is terrifying. There’s a reason most gods have to earn their domains rather than be assigned them.

The problem is if not Ares, then who? It would be easier to narrow her options if she knew what she wanted, like Hera told her to do, but she doesn’t. She wants people to leave her alone. She wants to learn how to be a proper goddess. She wants to claw Ares away from Zeus’s grasp with her bare hands.

None of that is anything a husband can give her.

“Say that you’re willing to be courted and see what they offer,” Ares says. “Maybe you’ll know what you want when you see it.”

“But what if I don’t want any of it?” she asks. “Then I have to choose someone I don’t want.”

He hums, then says, “I’ll ask for your hand too, and offer more than anyone else. Then, if you don’t find someone you like, you can just pick me and we won’t marry. Mom will understand if I tell her.”

The thought of getting on Hera’s bad side is chilling, but if anyone can soothe her temper, it’s her son, so she agrees.

The news travels quickly, gods from all over climbing up to Olympus’s peak to ask for her. It’s spread to the point that she thinks some of them that are here don’t even want her, that it’s just a big show about what they’re able to offer. Which, of course, makes her choice even more difficult.

Ares, Apollo, and Hermes offer her the most, of course. They’re gods of the pantheon and have more influence and power at their disposal. But the minor gods still make a good show of it, stepping forward to off her castles and servants and land, nymphs even offering to grow a her a living manor from the forest and perfectly plump fruit every day of her life.

In one way or another, they all off her protection, luxury, and beauty. She struggles to find any of it of value.

She’s resigned herself to picking Ares just to get it all to stop when a hush falls over the crowd that’s then replaced with frantic whispering. They part like a wave retreating from shore and her breath catches in her throat when she sees who’s walking towards her.

Hephaestus is on Olympus for the first time since he’s been thrown from it.

He’s gilded gold as he passes by everyone else, his eyes on her alone, from his legs to the way the sun illuminates his amber eyes to the chiton wrapped snug around his waist with a golden belt. He could have worn a long robe to hide his legs. She likes that he didn’t.

He stops in front of her and she tries to think of something to say, but her throat is too dry.

“Goddess,” he murmurs, then pulls a single copper rose from thin air and offers it to her. “For you.”

She takes it, her fingers brushing his, and his hands are still warm like he’s just pulled them from the forge.

He came to the place where the worst thing that ever happened to him occurred. He’s given her a gift with no strings. He’s offering her only this – the skill of his hands and the bravery of his heart.

What she wants is someone who will take her as she is and grow with her, who will explain the world patiently and know her well enough to make her something beautiful.

She is the goddess of love and beauty. She cannot be bought with castles.

“Yes,” she says, holding the rose between their bodies as she pushes herself up to kiss Hephaestus in front of all of Olympus.  

 There are shouts of protests, people yelling in anger or betrayal, and Ares’s bright, warm laughter over it all.

~

Aphrodite expects Hera to be furious.

Instead the goddess says nothing of her choice, only holds the wedding as she promised. Zeus won’t even look at Hephaestus, but Hera stands in front of them and recites the vows for them to repeat back to each other as if it’s all normal, as if Hephaestus is just like any other god to her.

She has that same look in her eye that she had before while she does it, but Aphrodite barely notices it before her husband pulls her attention back to him, his promises of love and loyalty more worthy of her attention than anything going on in Hera’s mind.

She and Hephaestus walk down Olympus, hand in hand, husband and wife.

[moonys-love]

Howdy Pillar Headcanons :D

be aware this is my first time writing on tumblr so if its a tad odd in some places, i apologize :))) i should be doing my math work i missed or sleeping but guess what i wont

cw: staring mentions (?), howdy being cheesy, i think that's it? ( i do not know how to tag stories)

(look at the funky man!!)

Dating Howdy!!

i just KNOW this man loves to give hugs from behind

everytime you're doing literally anything that has you with your back exposed, he's going to pick you up

you could be in the middle of cleaning and next thing you know four limbs are wrapped around you and you're being picked up

he is both big spoon and little spoon, ignore the fact that he's like 7 foot/213 cm

if you don't like being hugged/touched, that's fine! he likes to make sure that you're comfortable with how he shows affection.

instead of hugging you, he tends to move things around to make it more accessible for you (especially if you enjoy cooking/baking, there are a lot of things in the howdy-sized cabinets but not the y/n-sized cabinets)

sometimes he does purposefully move things out of your reach to have you call him over for help so he can come bother you >:)

that is until you learned that you can climb on the counters... (as someone who is short, this is in fact the most effective way of getting things [dont do this])

he loves holding hands with you! regardless of whether you're in public or at home, he enjoys making sure that you don't get lost /j ("Its hard to see you all the way down there, neighbor!")

he is also a big fan of pinky holding <3

i hc him to have some anxiety issues, so this is a big reason why he enjoys holding hands/pinkys

it's become a big way to help him calm down, and if you start rubbing shapes (?) into his hand it makes things a lot better (he does it to you too <3)

after a long day at the bugdega (bodega? I've seen someone call it that so I'm calling it that bc it's funky!), he will fwump literally anywhere it is convenient for him to do so

let's just hope you're not on the couch/bed because you are a candidate for him to do so! (good luck)

he constantly is making sure that you're ok, mentally and physically! he is a great listener, and he gives great advice too.

everytime you try to help him out at the bugdega, he CANNOT focus

he will literally stare at you for ages until either you or a neighbor points out he's doing so ("howdy, are you ok?" "huh- oh yeah! it's just that you're really pretty...")

he also gives you an 100% discount if you agree to a kiss

either he's really cheesy, or he's reciting poetry to you, there is in fact, no in-between

"i love you berry much! *holds out a strawberry*"

"If i was to be given the option of eternal life, i would turn it down, for a life without you is not one worth living."

all in all, your relationship is berry sweet!! (help i regret writing that)

Being friends with Howdy!!

if YOU have chaotic energy, HE has chaotic energy

he could be cheerfully having an exchange with julie to chanting "thief" to wally in the corner with you (art idea??? might make this)

howdy is great at adapting to your current mood! if you're being funky and all gremlin-like, so is he! if you're tired or sad, he makes sure to give you your time and space to talk if you want!

regardless of this, he does give mother-friend energy

not in the sense of like making sure you're sunscreened, but just looking out for you and making sure you're ok :O)

he LOVES to spook you. regardless of how tall he is, he is in fact, great at sneaking around!

he is also good at being quiet on his feet, which does not end well when you're in the middle of doing something

i feel like he is genuinely a sweet guy, but when he's with friends, he's a totally different caterpillar

if tiktok existed then, you would constantly point at him and say "caterpillar" in that voice (y'know the one from the audio that everyone draws frank spying on howdy with [i absolutely love that audio])

HE KNOWS ALL OF THE GOSSIP OOH JUST YOU WAIT

"did you hear? frank and eddie are finally dating!" "HAH WALLY OWES ME HIS APPLE SUPPLY"

wally is definitely a part of your guy's shenanigans btw it's canon I'm howdys hat

if howdy needs something delivered (most likely wallys hairspray/apples) and eddie isn't available, he asks you! you're practically a second employee so you might as well ahshefs

you still get an 100% discount, since you know, you're kinda working there so that's fabulous!!

he's practically your babysitter at this point i just kinda imagine y/n being one of the leash kids

he can and will throw you on top of his shoulders, you think he's not buff under those sleeves? he has to carry around literal HUNDREDS of apples for wally pretty much everyday

i feel like he likes making things with his hands (I'm really projecting here arent i)

HE LIKES MAKING TINY THINGS OK OK GLAD WE CAN AGREE

random little figurines or things you enjoy will just appear. you have little to no clue where they came from but that's fineee

he knows some of the most obscure things, either about you, or anything really

he loves hearing people infodump about anything! he loves learning new things about people's special interests :D

at the end of the day, he appreciates being your friend so much! he's so glad he got to meet you <3

i am very tired so im probably going to sleep now!! i really liked making this but headcanons are not, in fact, my strong suit. requests are open, i would love to write some more for welcome home!!

[ickadori]

++ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐈

[summary] kisaki meets someone a bit more organically than he had intended to.

[cws] fem reader -> reader is a mother (the son is named ‘ren’). mentions of an abusive relationship. abuse towards reader. mild violence. allusions to cannibalism. unedited.

[notes] this was in drafts since sept and i actually hate it now but i didn’t wanna delete bc he’s my first luv ^.^ ending is thrown together heh!

Kisaki believed in meeting people organically — he considered himself a bit of a romantic.

Dating apps weren’t an option for him (even if he wasn’t on every criminal watchlist available he still wouldn’t go that route - it screamed desperation, and he liked to be quiet with his) and he had turned down every offer of being ‘set-up’ on blind dates after he had given Hanma a reluctant ‘yes’ and ended up sat across from a coked up, wannabe model that dropped dead of an overdose before the appetizers even hit the table.

It was a bit hard to meet people naturally when you rarely interacted with the public, and when you did, it was because a few big name heads needed to roll. He couldn’t exactly go out to mingle just after taking a handsaw to a man’s neck—you had to be in the right headspace.

He had looked inward at first, scoured his payroll and checked out each and every name listed there. He would never get involved with anyone working directly under him (work and pleasure should never mix, after all) but extended family members were fair game, or so he had thought, before he had realized just how fucked up the people he had working underneath him was, along with their families. Prostitutes, convicts, plebes riddled in debt and holding cans on street corners to try and afford it, losers spending all their measly paychecks in pachinko parlors and whorehouses.

Kisaki had standards, and they didn’t come close to fitting them.

Back to the drawing board.

A white cloud of air leaves his mouth as he sighs, hands slipping into the pockets of his wool, trench coat as he steps out of the driver's seat of the car. He moves to head into the lobby of his office building, gaze quickly sliding over to the kid standing near the entrance before immediately disregarding him.

“Hello, Sir.” He’s greeted with a deep bow, and a dark brow quirks up as he turns his head to look at the boy. He stops, eyes taking in the way he shivers in the cold from his lack of coat, coupled with the ratty t-shirt, gym shorts and sandals.

“I don’t have any cash on me. I’ll send someone back down with some.” He goes to move around, only for the kid to shuffle in front of him and block his path. Kisaki has half a mind to plant his foot in his stomach, but bites down the urge and instead grips the kid’s shirt and wrangles him off to the side.

“Wait! I-I don’t need your money! I need your help!”

“Do you see a badge on me? Go to the police station.” He chuckles as he says it. He usually tells people not to go to the police station. “I can’t help you.”

“I can pay you.” The kid goes into his pockets and brandishes two fistfuls of coins, and Kisaki takes a good look around the dark, empty streets, trying to catch a glimpse of Hanma because this has to be one of his stupid ideas of a joke. “I need your help, Sir, please. My dad—”

“If a man can’t help himself he’s better off dead.”

“—keeps hurting my mom.”

The coins rattle due to the trembling of the kid’s hands. “What’s your name?”

“Ren.”

“How exactly do you think I could help you and your mother, Ren?”

“Kill him.” Ren looks him in the eyes as he says it, and Kisaki hums. Kids are stupidly brave, he thinks. No older than ten and he goes to elicit the help of a random man that he doesn’t even know—

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yes. I…” Ren looks around, unsure, before he’s squaring his shoulders and meeting his gaze again. “I’ve been stalking you! And I saw you kill people with that really tall man so I know that you do it!”

“You didn’t see me do anything like that so don’t ever say that again. Do you understand?” Kisaki should probably toss the kid over a bridge or something - kids had big mouths, and he didn’t need to be brought down by some hobo child who blabbed his mouth to the cops - but he had always had a soft spot for children.

“Yes, Sir.” Ren’s speech was starting to get hard to decipher, his trembling reaching an all time high as his lips turned blue, and Kisaki sighed as he slipped his arms out of his coat, leaving him in a white button down and suspenders.

“Put this on before you freeze.”

Ren pointedly looks down to the coins in his hands, and Kisaki juts his chin to the side, signaling for him to just toss it down onto the street.

“B-But I saved this for two months for you!”

“Just throw it.”

“But it’s money!”

It’s mostly yen coins mixed in with a few 10 yens, and Kisaki sets his mouth to tell him it’s nearly worthless, nothing worth holding onto, and that he could just barely afford a few lollipops, much less an assassination, but he just sighs out through his nose and lets the kid dump the coins into his hand. He pockets it, trying to remember the last time he’s had loose change in his possession, and hands off the coat to Ren who quickly puts it on. It drapes him like a blanket, the arms too long and the hem of the coat dragging along the ground, and Kisaki sighs again.

“Get in the car so we can get this over with.”

-

“This is your place?”

“It’s a shithole.”

“It is.” Kisaki agrees as he cuts the engine, eyes taking in the dilapidated apartment building. He’s seen many like it, but this one might just be the worst. A small section of the building looks to be burned, as if a fire started in a unit and took out a few apartments and no one ever bothered to repair it.

There’s loiterers lingering all around; teens looking to get into trouble, or maybe looking to stay out of whatever trouble is in their homes, junkies scratching at themselves as they pace back and forth, and hookers in dark corners with their johns.

“That’s what my mom calls it.” Ren continues. “She says we’re gonna move one day. She’s been working a lot to save up money.”

“Where does she work?”

“She won’t tell me.”

“Stalk her like you did me.”

“But that’s bad.”

“So you can do bad things to me and not her?”

“Well,” he shrugs. “You’re bad.”

“I guess I am.”

Kisaki opens the middle console and bypasses the gun stashed inside, inside pulling free the pair of brass knuckles and slipping them into his back pocket. “Does your father have a gun?”

“No, they’re illegal. The officer at my school says so.” Ren peers into the console and goes wide-eyed at the sight he sees.

“How big is he?”

“Really big—bigger than you.”

“Where does he work?”

“The… um, the lumber yard.”

The aluminum bat that he keeps under his seat is pulled free, and then he’s signaling for Ren to get out of the car as he steps out into the cold himself. They join at the front of the car, and like bees to honey, a few women who look as if they’re standing on their last leg make their way over to him, dollar signs reflecting in their irises as they take in the sports car he’s just gotten out of.

“Which apartment is yours?”

“It’s this way.” Ren sets off in the direction in which he pointed to, and Kisaki holds up a gloved hand to the women steadily approaching, stopping them in their tracks as they huff and send him scathing looks.

They’re heading in the direction of the apartments that had been burned down, and Kisaki considers offing the father and the mother and just dropping the boy off at one of the orphanages that actually give a shit about the kids in their care. Killing the dad would stop the mom from getting her head knocked left and right, but it wouldn’t fix their problems. Few people had what it took to pull themselves out of a hole like this one, and the woman was clearly lacking a few vital things up top to have ended up in this predicament in the first place.

“Goddamn fucking bitch. Where is it?!” The near snarl brings Kisaki out of his thoughts, and he reacts in time to snag ahold of Ren’s shoulder when he tried to dash for the apartment. A heavy smack sounds seconds later, followed by the sound of furniture and glass breaking, and another sigh, this one heavier, leaves him as he leans the bat against the wall and starts rolling up his sleeves.

“What the fuck am I doing here?” He mutters to himself, crisp sleeves rolling back to reveal toned, bronze arms. The muscles in them flex as lithe fingers wrap around the handle of the bat, and he rolls his shoulders once before taking a step back, raising his foot, and slamming it right below the lock.

It’s been a while since he’s done a house call, but he adjusts quickly. He rushes in —best to catch ‘em before the shock of the door bursting in wears off— and lays eyes on two people, a man and a woman. He aims low and hits a knee, and there’s a crunch that makes his eyebrow twitch and a scream that brings forth a wave of amusement.

The man stumbles, face screwed up in pain and spit and curses flying. He’s built like a brick house, and the physique reminds him of a certain taxing restaurant owner, so he swings the bat again, this time cracking a few ribs and sending the man sprawling down to the floor.

A floorboard creaks behind him, and reflexes kick in as he swings before he looks. A soft gasp and a shout of ‘Sir’ makes him stop just in time, and he turns to see he was about 3 centimeters away from caving the woman’s face—oh.

Even with the budding bruises, the haggard clothing, and the teary, snotty face, Kisaki has to blink twice and bite down on his tongue to make sure he hasn’t died and somehow snuck his way into Heaven—disgustingly cheesy, he’s aware, but he’s a romantic, you know, and the sight of you is enough to ignite something inside him that had been extinguished for quite some time.

He takes in a slow breath, and the tepid, stale air of this should-be-condemned apartment feels like a breath of fresh air, and he knows what this feeling is. He had felt it once, back when he was young and full of a puppy love for a woman that could just barely stand the sight of him.

He should leave, go back to his office and send a cleanup crew to get rid of all the loose ends. He had thought he wanted another woman to send him up in a tailspin, but there were too many variables, too many things that he couldn’t control, too many things that he couldn’t predict, and he was starting to run out of people to kamikaze box trucks for him when relationships went awry.

“Mom!” Ren runs to you, and you wrap him up in your arms, eyes warily watching Kisaki as you try and gauge his intentions.

“I-I don’t have what he owes you.” Ah.

“He doesn’t owe me a thing.” He forcefully drags his eyes away from you to instead look at the writhing man on the floor. Kisaki lifts his foot and settles it on his midsection, grinding the heel of his shoe against the protruding bones. “But I’m sure he owes someone, so I’ll settle the debt for them.” He looks back to you, and a clammy hand tightens around the handle of the bat. “Unless you have any objections...”

Your eyes flicker down to your child’s father, eyebrows scrunching together as you hold Ren tighter, and Kisaki pleads in his head for you to give him an answer that’ll snuff that flame you lit right out.

Ask me to spare him. Tell me how he’s not a bad man, even though he beats you black and blue and forces your son to seek the help of random men in the middle of the night. Cry that you love him. Make me hate you—

“Just... just don’t do it here, please. I don’t want him to see.”

“Of course.”

Ah, hell.

Kisaki guesses this is as organic as it’s going to get.

[oxymorayuri]

Hiii i read the acex reader i dont remember the title but its the one where she was the revolver?

I wanted to request more parts for it please BCS THE WAY U WRITE IT ITS SO CAPTIVATING I CANT

So yes thats all i wanted PLEASE DO CONSIDER 🙏

It will get me through my exams 😔🔫

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

Part two

If you haven't read the first part yet, you can find it here or the overview. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: cussing/language, suggestive content ✦ Spoiler: none

A/N: Aw that is so cute! You know what? Why not? I really fell in love with the revolver too. I had to think of something to continue it but see for yourself, I hope you like it sweetie. PS: I hope everything goes well with your studies <3

wordcount: 2488

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Ivan Imros

Everything before your eyes appears as if you're looking through a curtain. Time passes more slowly, every touch seems both intense and unreal, but you feel the desire.

There is nothing but desire... the thirst for more.

Light as a feather, you feel as if you are not even in control of your body. But that's not a problem. You enjoy every second, no matter how blurred everything seems to you.

Perhaps because you know that it is nothing more than just a desire. Your movements are rhythmic and you try to intensify the feeling with every thrust, but there are limits to how much you can feel.

Your options are small but you are grateful for what is in front of you.

You can dimly see the lust shining in Ace's eyes, while barely feeling his hands on your hips as they guide you into bliss. Your mind is constantly shifting between lucid yet dazed and one moment you are riding him while the next his lips are caressing yours.

Full of pleasure you close your eyes, your voice says 'more' but you don't feel your lips moving and although your eyes are closed, it gets brighter and brighter behind your eyelids…

You groan in annoyance as you pull the covers over your head. Damn that sucks. This isn't the first dream you've had about Ace, but it's never been as intense as this one.

You cannot escape the images of the things that happened between you and you keep dreaming about that night on the beach. A whole week has passed since then and you and Ace are far from what you could have become and whose fault is it?

Yep, yours.

The angry wiggle in bed gets you nowhere, but you are so annoyed by the situation that you have to let it out.

After your fit of rage, you look up at the ceiling of your room in defeat. Slight dark circles adorn your face because it takes half an eternity for your brain to finally shut up. You don't even want to think about Ace and when you are surrounded by complete silence, his face automatically appears before your eyes. You've spent a few nights tossing and turning in your bed because every time you close your eyes you see him. No matter how tired you were, you couldn't get a wink of sleep.

You tousle your hair. Your ego is so big that you would rather die than approach Ace.

You wonder why you reacted the way you did. After your night, you woke up alone in your room and even though you didn't expect him to be lying next to you, you wished for it.

Loneliness engulfed you and as lonely as you felt, the more you didn't want him to get near you. You felt so available and that's a pretty strange feeling for you… Would it have been different if you had woken up next to him?

You'll never know.

As usual you gave him the cold shoulder but this time you had an additional reason... but somehow you feel a bit childish about it now.

Your thoughts are spinning around. What is your reason anyway? The answer seems to secretly pile up inside you and that makes you nervous.

Should you really have reacted like this? You haven't said a single word to each other. Okay, you haven't said a single word to him… At least he tried, you have to give him that, but after 3 days he had given up. He just leaves you alone and doesn't even get on your "nerves" like before. Nothing nada

Somewhat sadly, you pull your knees towards you and put your head down. You can only blame yourself.

You idiot!

If it wasn't for Jozu, you would probably never have come out of your cabin. He actually managed to get you out of the room.

Well, he more or less dragged you out. He just barged into your room, came up to you without saying a word and grabbed you by the neck. You noticed him, but you didn't have the strength in your bones to really react.

Somewhat belatedly you grab him by his bulky arm but every attempt is in vain and when you realized, that he wanted to leave your room with you, all alarm bells rang in your head.

Like a wild animal, you tried to escape from his grip but no matter how much you scratched him or how hard you hissed, he wouldn't budge. You feisty thing. Without paying the slightest attention to you, he brought you onto the deck and although you were brought here rather roughly, he set you down on the ground with care.

"Touch me like that again and…!!!!!" You are caught off guard when your mouth is suddenly covered with tape; you hadn't expected that. You can only grumble in anger and your eyebrows furrow up furiously as you look up at your commander.

"Hah your stare can't do anything to me you stupid ass!" He makes fun of you while he ties your arms and legs and you have no chance to resist.

The big man took a step back as he watched you wobble pathetically back and forth. You try to free yourself because you are beginning to feel that you are in a critical situation.

Your strength returns and the ropes loosen. Jozu doesn't hesitate any longer and immediately ties you up completely from head to toe, which looks ridiculous. Like a mummy, with only your head free, he leaned you against the ship's mast.

From behind you, you hear Ace apparently going through something similar as you and suddenly he is thrown to the ground in front of you by Marco. He wasn't set down as gently as you were, and with a pained look he rubs his cheek, which has just kissed the ground.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Confused, he looks at the men in front of him who just look down at him with stern expressions and folded arms. Jozu's eyes wandered over to you and Ace's eyes followed his. With shock written all over his face, he looked at you with widened eyes.

Without commenting, he looked back at the two commanders and then Marco broke the silence.

"What have you done Ace." Marco's voice seemed a little threatening. Astonishment spread across Ace's face.

"ME?" Startled, he pointed his own finger at his chest. "I have done NOTHING!" He defends himself with a slightly raised voice.

You want to laugh out loud but the tape stops you.

"I don't know what happened between you, but one thing is clear and that is that the two of you have something to sort out!" Jozu lays out the facts.

"You're so wrapped up in your thoughts that you're constantly setting yourself on fire and even if it doesn't hurt you, it's affecting the people around you." His gaze went to you as he noticed your muffled laughter. "And you? We don't even need to talk about you, y/n. But let me refresh your memory. First you shouted at Ace, then you didn't say a word to ANYONE and then you didn't come out of your room for two whole DAYS!!!" The commander breathes in and out, somewhat exhausted.

You weren't even aware that you were behaving outrageously, but now that Jozu has reminded you, you can't deny it. Ace is bothering you and you are bothering him.

Marco touches his forehead, somewhat distraught.

"Listen, if Newgate gets wind of this, he'll talk to you… is that what you want?!" You both shake your heads in panic at the same time.

"I thought so." - "Ace, you were last with y/n that night and she's been so nasty ever since. Did something happen between you?" Jozu interjects.

He exhales a little helplessly and drops his shoulders.

"hahhh, I don't know… I thought we had a good time but the next day everything was different than I thought and that's why I wanted to talk to her to find out what I did wrong!" He turns to you and for the first time you see a look on his face that you never expected to see. He looks angry with a hint of confusion.

"But SHE doesn't want to talk!" he points his finger at you like a child. Offended, you grimace. Luckily, the tape is stuck to your lips because no matter what you would have said, it wouldn't have made any sense anyway. You're so irrational that you don't even recognize yourself.

The two standing men looked at each other and nodded. You and Ace don't quite understand what's happening now, but you'll find out soon enough.

Marco grabbed Ace by the shoulder and led him ahead of him. Ace doesn't really resist and starts to move. When Jozu approached you, you didn't want to leave the stage without a fight. You tried to move like a worm to escape from your commander and even though he admires your efforts, there's no point in trying to escape, because you're just as fast as a worm - not at all. Jozu has an easy time with you and throws you over his shoulder.

The two of them threw you into a prison cell made of sea stone and before they locked the cell, Jozu freed you from your full body bondage. You are glad that your mouth is free again because now you can finally let out all the bad words you have left for Jozu.

"You son of a bitch! Just wait until I'm out of here, then you'll be given a bloody surprise… I'm telling you!"

But you idiot threw yourself against the bars to grab the big man, forgetting that the bars are made of sea stone and that you now have the power of a devil fruit that you still have to get used to.

The energy sapping feeling in your body is sudden, overwhelming and slowly you go down to the ground.

While the men walk away from the cell, Marco shouts something back to you.

"You stay in there until you've sorted this out!" Grinding your teeth, you roll onto your back with the last ounce of your strength and close your eyes.

If I can't see him, then he's not there...

Yeah, exactly, that will work… You don't really believe that, do you?

"Hey… I'll leave you alone if you want, but the others are right. We take it out on the others and that's not okay. We're a crew…" The word crew makes you open your eyes without wanting to.

You sigh in annoyance and roll onto your side so that Ace can stare at your back.

"Yea, maybe. Leave me alone." Your stubbornness is driving Ace crazy, but he doesn't really want you to be like this with each other. Above all, he wants to know why you're like this to him. What did he do wrong?

He's been racking his brains for days about what he could have done or said that upset you so much. He wants to make things better if you would let him.

"If you're not going to talk to me, at least take the bed. Sleeping on the floor won't do you any good." You have no idea what kind of cheap trick that is. Is he trying to get you to sleep in a bed with him? You look back towards the bed but Ace isn't there. He's sitting next to the bed with his back against the wall.

Unexpectedly, disappointment spreads through you. Wait a minute? Is that what you secretly wanted?

A little confused, you stand up and stop in front of Ace, who looks up at you. His unkempt hair falls back slightly as he looks up at you. How you would like to swallow your pride and fall into his arms, but you have no idea where to start. You don't know what to say because you don't even quite understand what is wrong with you. So you say nothing and stare at him with tired eyes as he sits in front of you with one leg bent and his arm resting on his knee.

Ace doesn't quite know how to react, but he's not one to do nothing.

He stands up just a few centimeters away from you and now you are the one looking up at him.

His gaze scans your face for answers that you can't even give yourself.

"What have I done?" he whispers to you. His pained voice tears apart your heart. You didn't know Ace could sound so vulnerable.

"I…, I don't know." you mumble your words, but your gaze remains fixed on Ace.

You have no further answer for Ace and walk towards the bed and lie down with your back to him again.

"Sleeping on the floor won't do you any good…" You repeat Ace's words back to him, feeling less pathetic since he said it first.

You listen closely as you can make out the sound of his feet approaching the bed. His shadow falls on the wall, which you stare at, waiting to see what comes next.

You feel the mattress go down a little and you automatically hold your breath until you can hear your heartbeat.

Ace looks down at your slender figure. His eyes wander over your delicate curves. He would love to stroke your hips until you fall asleep, but he's not sure how far he can go without making a mistake... but he has a feeling that doing nothing would be a mistake too.

He decides to lie down with his chest against your back. Lying on his back doesn't really work, there wouldn't be enough room and back to back would be awkward. He really makes an effort not to touch you unnecessarily. He's already glad that you offered him the bed.

You try to calm down, but Ace's breathing gives you goose bumps on the back of your neck. You pinch your eyes shut and try to concentrate on Ace's warmth, hoping you'll be able to fall asleep soon.

Luckily for you, you quickly find your way to the land of dreams because with Ace behind you, one could say; he's no longer buzzing around in your head...

Stay tuned for the next Part babes <3

➽ Next chapter

[destourtereaux]

home is a person - finnick odair x fem!victor!reader

summary: Y/N and finnick have been best friends since birth. when both your names are drawn for the third quarter quell, you must figure out a way to survive, or if it comes down to it, for finnick to survive.

wc: 2.4k | see request details here.

follow @lovebirdupdates to join my "taglist"!

GIF by @thranduilsperkybutt

a/n: kinda inspired by my dear olive (@retvenkos) bc she is just a superb writer for SO many fandoms. how do we even compare?

Some people believe in soulmates. Others don’t. But you? You had already found yours: goodness in the shape of a human named Finnick Odair.

The two of you had been friends since you were born and Finnick was two. Your mothers had been the best of friends and it had simply passed onto your generation. You and Finnick had grown up together, standing by each other through thick and thin. His sarcasm was never lost on you, and your wit made him every time.

When Finnick had to go to the Games, you were hysterical – screaming and sobbing, kicking and punching at the Peacekeeper who had to come escort you out of the crowd. And when he came back, you thought the worst had passed, that everything would go back to normal again, and it had… but only for 5 years. Then your name had been drawn, and Finnick had hugged you so tight it took three Peacekeepers to pry him away.

But you had survived too – emerged victorious. But at night, the memories came back. Endless nightmares that plagued your sleep, refusing to let you rest as the screams of those you killed tormented you. The only thing that helped was the weight and warmth of Finnick’s arms – almost like a shield against your trauma. He understood you wordlessly, and it had always been like that. The two of you against the world.

A year after you returned from the Games, your friendship evolved into its final stage, and feelings that were originally completely platonic slowly morphed into butterflies in your stomach and blushes on your cheeks. And when Finnick had asked you to be his girlfriend, it felt like you could finally see the sun again, like the clouds were clearing up and you had been given something to live for. Until now.

You turned the TV off once the dreadful Capitol reporter had finished announcing the theme for Panem’s third Quarter Quell: a Hunger Games between victors. You were silent in your disbelief. Not once had you ever thought you would have to return to the arena, and so soon, too. You were barely twenty-one, and you had won the games when you were seventeen, just four short years ago, not even half a decade.

Your family turned around to face you, their eyes melancholy, but you didn’t care. You didn’t feel much of anything to be honest. You should’ve known the Capitol wouldn’t let anyone escape their twisted little games.

Without a word, you ran outside, shoving open the door to your house. Finnick was already there, having hurried over as soon as he heard to check on you. When you saw him, you burst into tears, as if his very appearance had broken apart the dam holding back your fear. You collapsed onto him, shoulders wracked with your sobs.

“Y/N. Y/N. Look at me. It’s likely they won’t even pick us. Our District has a number of victors to choose from. Don’t be so scared, darling.”

He reaches a hand to your trembling cheek, wiping away the tears.

“But Fin… I can’t go back. I can’t- I just. And I can’t lose you either. Not an option.” 

“I know, love, I know,” Finnick replies, as you nestle your head into the crook between his neck and shoulders. The two of you stay there for hours, as you cry yourself out and Finnick strokes your hair gently. “And remember,” Finnick whispers quietly so no one but you can hear, “I’ll always be with you. No matter what happens. You’re my forever.”

******

It was as though life thought you two had had it too good these past few years - and now you needed to pay it back in bad luck. Both yours and Finnick’s names had been drawn consecutively. 

But even as you felt your world crashing down upon you, there was a strange sense of comfort in knowing you and Finnick would still be together.

And you knew — if it came down to it, you would kill yourself so he would live.

******

The interviews were over, and you felt the shock reeling through you from the victors’ shared display of rebellion. You let go of the hand belonging to the tribute on your right with a solemn nod, but you grasped the one in your left hand even more tightly.

“Princess, I’m losing circulation here,” Finnick teased, earning a glare from you as you wrenched your hand from his grasp.

The young man chuckled at your displeasure, pulling you into his side and muffling your protests. “I’m kidding. Please hold my hand again — come on. You know I was kidding!”

If only moments like these could last forever.

******

You wondered why the gods were so cruel. The arena turned out to be a clear lake surrounded by woods, putting you and Finnick at a distinct advantage. At best, you would gain the jealousy and rage of other tributes, and at worst, it would end with the two of you, each unafraid to self sacrifice for the other.

At least you had allies — Katniss and Peeta, who reminded you a lot of yourself and Finnick, and Johanna. But even though the group of you were relying on each other at the moment, there was an unspoken acknowledgement of the fact that an alliance could only last so long in the Hunger Games.

Your combined sponsors had sent you five a number of gifts, including food, and a spout for water from the trees. You had to give Katniss credit for figuring that out — she had definitely saved your lives.

Day after day, you count the cannon booms, until there are only 10 tributes left. Beetee and Wiress had been adopted into your group, much to the distaste of Johanna. The seven of you had grown closer over your time together, you and Katniss especially. She felt like a little sister to you; an extremely independent and brave little sister. You two would often share stories about your district and your families. It helped a lot, being able to talk to someone who understood how you felt.

When you and Katniss had your talks by the beach, Finnick and Johanna were off on their own. He told you he was finding water, but you knew they were hiding something.

******

On Day 15, you could tell Finnick was nervous. His whole demeanour had changed. He went from a solid cornerstone to a ball of restless energy.

“What’s wrong, Fin?” you probed, “you need to tell me. We’re in this together, remember?”

“I love you, Y/N. You know that right?”

“Of course I know that. I love you too. But what is going on? You’re scaring me.”

“It’s better if you know as little as possible. You’ll be safer. Trust me, love.”

You raise an eyebrow, perplexed, but you did trust him. That much had always been true.

For the rest of the morning, the alliance works together on building Beetee’s trap, hoping it would take care of the District 2 tributes.

Suddenly, a dagger whizzes past your year, forcing you to take a gulp of air as you dodge. Panting, you send a signal up into the air — meant to alert Beetee. But when nothing happens, you realize something has gone very, very wrong.

You send a spear soaring back to where the dagger had come from, slamming deep into a boulder. A scared Glimmer jumps out from behind and grins smugly at you.

With not a moment to spare, you sprint toward Beetee's hideout and spot him bleeding out on the forest floor, a red smile across his throat. You let out a scream — a mix of grief and rage. And that’s when it happens: an enormous explosion, red hot and booming, rocks the arena, and a hovercraft descends from the clouds like a gift from god.

I’m dead. They’re taking me to heaven, you think.

The last thing you remember is Finnick jumping into the hovercraft and pulling you up. You’re clawing at his arms, desperately trying to get on, before a pair of stronger arms yank down on your airborne legs, dragging you all the way down to hell.

******

And hell you entered. When you woke, gone were the scorching sun and shimmering waters of the arena. It was replaced by a glaring white room; even your clothes were pure white. You lifted yourself out of the hospital bed and made your way to the window on your left. There, in the neighbouring room, was Johanna, but she was almost unrecognisable. Her hair had been torn out in patches and her skin was a pale, ashy grey. You audibly gasped, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of your friend. It would be you next.

******

Finnick was beside himself with anguish. How could he have let you slip from his grasp like that? Slip right into the clutches of the demons from the Capitol. He clenched his fists so hard he drew blood, crescents of red on his palm that reminded him of his failures.

You were his person. You had been his since he was a tiny little toddler watching his mom coo over you in your mother’s arms. From then to now, the two of you had always been inseparable. He had protected you from the bullies at school and you had always taken good care of him when he didn’t care about himself.

He had let you down. Why had he been so focused on the stupid plan? Curse Haymitch. The world be damned. All that mattered was you. He should’ve saved you first.

The next day in the District 13 cafeteria, Finnick pushed his grey slop around in his bowl, avoiding eye contact with Katniss.

“Look up, Finnick. Now,” the girl suddenly commands, her voice the most authoritative he had ever heard.

He looks up instinctively, eyes catching on the TV screen. It was you. You and Peeta. You were in a white frock, legs crossed and an arm on your chair. Your lips were locked in a sickly fake smile as you delivered your message: “Katniss Everdeen. Finnick Odair. District 13 cannot and will not protect you for long.”

“Surrender, and you can still see the light of day,” Peeta adds, his words stilted, almost as though it pained him to speak.

As the screen began fading to black, a scuffle broke out. Your face, pale and frightened, gazed directly at the camera as you forced out a final message, “District 13. Here today, dead tomorrow.” 

A crack was heard as you fell to the ground, and the signal cut off once and for all. Finnick was left staring at his own reflection in the dark screen, tears streaming down his cheeks.

President Snow, however, wasn’t affected by emotion, and she took your warning seriously. Ushering everyone down into the deeper floors, she shut the bunkers down completely and braced for impact.

By morning, more than 10 bombs had hit the District — each rattling the rooms. But Finnick paid all this no mind. He was too busy replaying your brief appearance on the TV. How skinny and sick you looked. The dark circles under your eyes were telling, and you looked so scared. It killed him. He didn’t deserve to live, while you died slowly by the day.

******

Every day for the next month, Finnick and Katniss got up early and knocked on the President’s door. He pleaded with them to please send a rescue team. To get you and Peeta and Johanna out of there. Out of hell.

On the last day of the month, the President agreed. “If this is what it takes for our little mockingbird to perform again, we’ll do it. But you’d better perform, Everdeen, once we save your little boyfriend.”

******

Both Finnick and Katniss were deemed unfit for the rescue team. Something about psychological and emotional instability. Finnick raged against this, but was drugged by a sheepish Gale. “We’ll be back before you know it, man. And your girl will wake you up.”

Finnick held onto those words like a dying man as he slipped under.

When he woke up, the compound was a mess of noise. Shouts came from everywhere. “Get the stretcher!” “Get me more of that endorphin!” and finally, “Y/N’s up. Someone! Go and find Finnick. Now.”

At this, Finnick jolted upright, jumping off of his bed. He rammed the door open and ran into a doctor coming to get him. 

“Mr. Odair, I must warn you. Please don’t be so brash when you’re with her. Ms. Y/L/N has been through a lot this past month. You would do well not to alarm her.”

Finnick nods, breathless as he speeds up his pace. He turns a corner, then another, and there. He sees you at last. Your hair strewn across the pillow propping you up, a doctor examining your irises.

He stops out of shock for a second, before rushing to the door of the facility. The doctor accompanying him swipes a card to unlock the door, and within a second Finnick is at your side, down on both knees and cradling your hand.

You glance at him in surprise, before recognizing that it’s him. It’s your Finnick. He’s here, in the flesh.

“Fin? Is that really you?” you ask, in such a weak voice that makes Finnick want to sob.

“I’m here, darling. You’re safe now. We’ll never be apart again, my love. I guarantee it,” he chokes out, each word threatening to make him cry.

“Oh, Finny. I’m so happy. I’m so, so happy. I missed you so much,” you respond, in disbelief still. 

The tears come silently this time, streaming slowly down your cheeks and falling into your hair. When Finnick sees this, he quickly gets up and embraces you, careful not to hurt you. Pulling back, he brushes your hair out of your face and wipes away your tears.

You’re reminded of a similar moment that happened just three months ago, although it seems like so much longer.

When Finnick places a gentle kiss on your forehead, you finally manage to process where you are. I’m home, you think. Because home, for you, is a person.

****** interested in other works of mine? see my masterlist!

[familyvideostevie]

hi love! could I request a boyfriend!sirius where maybe you’re shopping together or doing some mundane tasks but he keeps flirting and distracting you but you’re not really mad bc he’s so cute?

thank you for requesting! this is short and sweet and a little suggestive, hope you like! | fem!reader, flirty jokes, fluff, 0.7k

"I genuinely think this looks like James," Sirius says, nudging you with his elbow. You look away from the oranges and see that he's holding up a misshapen sweet potato. 

You just raise your eyebrows at him and bite the inside of your cheek. He wiggles the spud and clears his throat. "Oh, Lily, I swear I didn't mean to break my glasses again," he says, voice pitched up in a deliberately poor imitation of James's lilt. You flare your nostrils in an attempt to keep your expression neutral.

"It hasn't got glasses," you say. "Actually, it kind of looks like you." Sirius's eyes go wide and his jaw drops in mock offense. 

"I'm wounded," he cries, pressing a hand to his heart. "My own girlfriend thinks I look like a potato." The corner of your mouth twitches and you turn away from him to put the fruits from your list into your cart. 

"Don't be dramatic," you say, pushing your way around the produce section of the store. "Potatoes really are quite versatile."

Sirius hooks his chin over your shoulder to take a peek at the list and to say, softly, "Are you saying I'm easy, darling?" You can feel his stubble on your neck, smell his cologne over the sterile air of the supermarket.

"I'm saying that I like potatoes," you tell him. He laughs suddenly, delighted at your flirting, before crossing the aisle to grab garlic. 

"I'd hope so," he says. "Otherwise it's going to be real awkward when we get home and you have to share a bed with me." You roll your eyes and continue through the store. 

He tugs your hand as you leave the fruits behind and you stop. "You know, pineapple is supposed to make your pu--"

You level him with a glare and he stops talking, though his grin is smug and not at all sorry. "Don't think I won't leave you here," you say.

Sirius taps your chin with a knuckle. "You'd miss me." His eyes crinkle at the corners, like he can't help but smile when he looks at you. 

You sigh like the most put upon girl in the world. "Unfortunately," you drone. "Go get some cereal and I'll meet you by the bread." He presses a quick kiss to your cheek and spins on his heel.

Idiot, you think, but you're smiling. Every moment with Sirius is heightened, is more alive than you thought possible. He's practically spilling over with whatever he's feeling at any given moment and it spreads to you. His excitement, his flirtation, his love. Even this -- going to the grocery store -- is a small adventure. 

He's only gone for a few minutes, finding you in front of the pasta before you've made your way to the bread. He always finds you, somehow. He gasps when he sees you. 

"Fuck me," he says. "You've gotten prettier since I last saw you. How did you manage that?" You ignore him, studying the options on the shelf instead, but your mouth turns up at the edges. "There she is," Sirius says, softer. "Got you."

"You're incorrigible," you mutter. He moves to stand beside you, tucking his hand into your back pocket. 

"Oh, big word," he says, breath hot on your ear. "Talk dirty to me."

"If you keep distracting me we're never going to get home," you tell him. He shrugs. 

"This would not a bad place to live, actually. Lots of food. Shit to do. I'm sure there are break rooms with couches we could fu--" You level him with the same glare from the fruit aisle and he laughs again. "Sorry, sorry, I'll behave. And then we can go home to our couch." He leans in to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

"I'll believe it when I see it," you say. He plucks the list from your hand and gives it a once-over. 

"Meet you at the check-out in 10 and I swear I'll have all of this stuff." Before you can say another word he's off.

"Ridiculous," you say to the pasta. I love him, you think, cheeks starting to ache from your smile.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

[lowkeyrobin]

Hi!! 🍄 again I was wondering if I could get a platonic newt x reader (from tmr) where maybe it’s while newt is still new to his limp and reader is helping him do Is jobs

(Also just to let you know if you didn’t newt from tmr is canonically gay (as stated by the author ) I just wanted to let you know so you didn’t write him with a fem reader btw I didn’t relizie how rude this sounds not trying to be rude just and fyi also sorry if you did know just a lot of fans didn’t )

Thank you once again sorry if it seemed rude

ooooo okay I like this! ; also I know, don't worry, and you didn't sound rude! i do see newt as a queer character 100 and I always have, even before learning about James dashners tweet about it, which I find sketchy bc I'm pretty sure he tweeted that after being accused of being weird to women or smthn?? idrk, doesn't matter here bc gn readers only + I wholeheartedly see newt as queer and I can rant ab it for hours ; I don't plan on writing for tmr much but pls send requests, I love writing for this fandom lol

NEWT ; personal aid

summary ; youre helping him after he gained his limp

warnings ; language, talk of/about suicide and mental health

genre ; platonic fluff, kinda angst

word count ; 1k

masterlist

Newt was recently injured in the maze. He'd been as fixed up as possible, given a brace made of tree branches and some painkillers sent from the box. At least no one was using the pills for bad, considering they're a fragile item to give to a bunch of teenagers. The only thing you'd ever thank WCKD for was those painkillers, because seeing the blonde hurt like that killed you inside.

To put it as blankly as possible, he tried to kill himself. He climbed his way up of one of the walls surrounding the glade using the ivy that grew on it, and jumped. He fell about thirty feet, considering he only climbed up the wall about a third of the way, apparently thinking thirty feet would kill him.

He'd never been the type to express happiness within the glade, but he never expressed the opposite either.

But, everyone struggles inside, especially in the Glade. Reoccurring dreams and nightmares, unanswered questions, the will to live dwindling down each and every day, they only fed into the growing depression. Everyone was struggling in the Glade, but Newt, he took the first place trophy for that.

Once he'd been able to walk around again, you took helping him into your own hands. He was clearly never running in the maze again, due to the limp that slowed him down. So, he had a few options, hopefully one he'd like.

Alby took pity in him, making him his right hand man not long after. He needed someone around for when he wasn't, Newt was a good choice for that. He was responsible, good at directions, and keeping order.

You were working as Newt's personal aid, being a medic. You were very much an empath, and your true goal was to just help anyone and everyone. You brought him food and water, washed his clothes, sewed up his ripped up clothes from that day in case he'd be strong enough to wear them again, you did everything for him.

But now he leans into you, looking up at you with a certain displeasure, clearly uninterested in working outside of the maze.

You obviously were never going to let him be a builder, that was already off the table. But he got to look around and make his decision between slicer, cook, track-hoe, med-jack like you, slopper, bagger, and map keeper.

He easily put his money down on track-hoe. Something you didn't know about him was that he found gardening therapeutic. You didn't blame him whatsoever, you never wanted to be in the shoes of the sloppers, slicers, or baggers. To be fair, it was a little too gruesome and gross for you, you'd rather be helping people around the Glade than washing everyone's clothes or killing the animals, just a personal opinion.

He needed help while working, though. He couldn't put too much weight on his one foot, and he couldn't bend down on that knee at all yet. So, while he worked, you stood off to the side, making sure he was alright while you watched the others work around the Glade, enjoying their peaceful, warm day.

While he was picking fruit and vegetables off the vines of ivory, you were by his side, either holding the basket or getting the ones he couldn't bend down to reach. You couldn't help but feel bad for his poor spine as well, considering your back started to hurt after a few hours. The gardens were pretty large, considering there was about thirty or forty boys in the Glade to feed, meaning there was always hours and hours of work or expansion to do.

"Y/n, sorry, can you help me?" The dirty blonde asks, groaning as he stands back up, holding a hand on his knee. "I can't get those tomatoes at the bottom"

You quickly nod, kneeling down to grab them for him while he moves to the next bush, plucking off all the ripe tomatoes off the vine. You retie a string around the support branches, which heald the bush together and let it grow vertically rather than horizontally and try and choke out and kill any other plants nearby.

"Fry is gonna love it when he sees these tomatoes, they're the biggest and ripest they've been in a long time" You comment, looking over at Newt.

He nods, tossing a cherry tomato in his mouth to amount to a little snack. "He sure is, we'll be eating good this week" He chuckles with a little smile. "You wanna work on the cucumbers for me? I'll get the corn" He suggests, wanting to work a bit quicker and suggest some things he could actually do without feeling a pain shoot through his leg.

You nod, taking a new basket over to the cucumber lane. You feel something pang in your heart as you see him attempt to kneel down on one foot to reach one last tomato, groaning and furrowing his brows in the process, clearly still hurting him.

"How are you feeling? Physically and mentally, nothing is off the table."

Newt shrugs, watching you examine and touch around the bruising and his ankle. Your fingertips slide over his ankle a little harshly, and he quickly inhales and furrows his brows, which you respond to by quickly pulling your hands away and apologizing.

"On a light note, it looks much better than before already. How are you doing in a mental sense?"

"I hate this bloody place, I feel dumb for not climbing higher-" He strays silent, watching you wrap a fresh bandage around his ankle. "Sorry..."

"It's okay. I'm here as your personal aid, Newt"

"That's the damn thing! I don't want you to waste your days on me. You have other important stuff to do, I don't want you to have to babysit me." The blonde expresses, watching you properly stand up.

"It's fine, really. You're still in a lot of pain, and I swear I'm not babysitting you. I'm just watching over you so it doesn't end up hurting more, alright?"

"Alright..."

[romana-after-dark]

Finish the Job

Yandere!Jake Lockley x GN!reader

Join Dark!Romana's tag list

Dark!Romana's Masterlist

Summary: After months living in a room with only Jake, Steven and Marc as company, you can't say you aren't content most of the time. Sometimes, however you make a little trouble and Jake reminds you that he is the only one who can keep you safe.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Yandere!Jake. Reader is kidnapped. Implied/referenced rape (reader 'never said no' according to jake, but rather just gave in after an unclosed amount of time bc they were lonely/manipulated. The circumstances of this are v vague but remember, if you feel like you have to, its not consent.) Jake Lockley typical violence. Referenced past abuse.

A/N: I began writing this fem reader, as most of my fics are since I am fem, but I realized there was no reason this couldn't be gender neutral. So, that's what it is. If I missed changing anything that makes it seem like reader is fem presenting, lmk and I'll edit it but I looked through this several times.

*************************

You couldn’t say the bed was uncomfortable. You couldn’t say the room was bland or boring. You couldn’t say you had nothing to do. It was a great room, actually. If you were being honest, you loved it here…

The problem was you couldn’t leave. When the man had taken you, it took a while to figure out what was going on with him; it was Steven that explained it, the DID. Honestly, maybe the mental disorder should have scared you more, but you were well versed in different disorders so it wasn’t something that phased you, rather than just made it a challenge to navigate your situation. You were given book after book after book to read, to entertain you when outside of Marc Steven and Jake’s company; it didn't matter how many you went through, you just had them. If you were feeling brave, you made requests but honestly after the boredom of the first month while you were still fighting it, you took what you could get. You were even given a laptop, although it couldn’t possibly connect to the internet, but you were writing. They didn’t even make you show them what you wrote, but Steven would often sit on the bed while you read to him your poems or short stories. You were saving your novel for when it’s finished.

Some days were better than others. 

Some days you and Steven talked for hours.

Some days you and Marc marathonned Star Wars.

Some days Jake held you so warm and so tightly you forgot they kidnapped you.

Today was not one of those days.

You were angry, you were upset, you missed your friends and you missed the outside, you wanted fresh air and you didn’t want to spread your legs for a man that took you away from everything you knew and wanted. 

“Why are you giving me so much fucking attitude today?!” Jake shouts at you, pacing the floor of your room so aggressively he had your throw rug all twisted up.

You were sat up on your bed, shouting back. “You KIDNAPPED ME, you HURT ME you RAPE ME-”

“CALLATE!” He screamed, storming towards you so fast you flinch and scramble back to the wall. “You know I don’t like when you call it that!”

A sardonic laugh. “What? Rape?”

“I never forced you! I never held you down! I never got you too drunk or high to resist-”

“YOU TOOK ME AWAY FROM EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE, WHAT OTHER OPTION DID I HAVE!”

His face is suddenly right up to yours, so close your nose brushed his briefly as he speaks in a dark, quiet voice. “I never heard you say no, mi vida”

He was right. You hadn’t. But they had worn you down, twisted your mind so much that eventually you just began… giving in.

He continued talking, his voice rumbling with the low octive “I only hurt you in the beginning, carino. Just until you began to listen. You needed it, didn’t you? Someone to take you away from everything, take care of you, feed you. Baby, we adore you, and it hurts us when you fight like this.”

Your eyes wheeled up with tears at his words. It’s true, you had become so dependent on them… you weren’t sure you could even shower alone anymore. You’d be lucky if you remembered how to toast bread. Sickeningly, a part of you liked it. You liked he cared for, pampered, adored, and fuck, worshiped. You had time to write, time to listen to music and podcasts. If you need to look up something for a book or research something from a podcast that interested you, you just asked, and the boys would monitor you. You didn’t really need anything except some goddamn freedom. What was that they said in The Handmaid’s Tale? There’s freedom too, and freedom from… They offered you freedom from, and made that clear.

“The world is dangerous, precioso. You know that as well as I do… perhaps better.” With a cocked eyebrow, Jake referenced your past trauma’s, forcing the tears to spill over. “You are too precious, too perfect to be put at risk again. Your family didn’t protect you, but I will.”

Still, you are ever-defiant, shaking your head. “N-no… you aren’t protecting me. You’re hurting me…” but even then, you couldn’t manage much conviction. You hadn’t so much as burned your tongue since Steven, Marc, and Jake took you, and he was right… the rest was just discipline. 

Jake frowned, but simple stood up. He went over to your desk, taking out a Glee notepad he’d found on ebay for you and a pen, tossing them in your direction.

“Write them down, all the names.”

You look at him confused. “W-what names?”

He stalked forward, once again close to you.

“Give me the full name of anyone who has ever hurt you or touched you without your consent.” His gaze was focused, intense. You knew he was on a mission when he looked at you like that.

“I don’t… I don’t know all their full names…”

“If you have workplace addresses, any identifying information that’s helpful. I promise you, I’ll take whatever you give me and I will find them. Every single person who has ever caused you pain.”

“What are you going to do?” You didn’t really need to ask, but you did anyway.

“You and I both know. Now write.”

The list was long, longer than any one person’s list should be. A few, you only remembered their first name so you wrote down what you knew… Jake had his ways. Still, you had some cheek in you, and when Jake looked at the paper, he frowned.

“What the fuck is this.” He smacked the paper with his hand. After the list of people who had violated or harmed you before you came here, were three names Jake recognized right away.

Jake Lockley

Steven Grant

Marc Spector

“You told me to write the names of anyone who hurt me or touched me without-” SMACK! Your head flung to the side from the backhand, and when your turned back to face him, his hand gripped your throat.

“You think this is funny, carino?” His face pressed against yours. “How do you think Marc would feel if he saw his name on that list?”

Your lip quivered at that… you didn’t want Marc to see. Marc was special to you, and Jake knew it; he often exploited your relationship with his alter for his own benefit.

“I’m sorry” You cried, apologetic.

His grip on you loosened, and he looked back at you with sympathetic eyes. Letting go, he tore the bottom three names off the paper and tucked the offenders into his pocket. “I know you are, amor. Now, you sit here pretty, and don’t worry about a damn thing for the rest of your life, si?”

It took about a month. He never left you for more than one day at a time, but he always made sure you had food and were provided for, even giving you access to the bathroom. You didn’t dare even look for an exit; they wouldn’t have left anything vulnerable, and you were on camera, you knew. It would just cause trouble.

It was after one of those such nights where you were alone that he came back to you, still somehow looking put together after being out all night. You knew he hadn’t slept. You awake to his footsteps, heavy boots on your polished hard wood floor. As you stir, a piece of paper is placed on your pillow.

Sitting up you rub your eyes. “Jake, what’s- ” But you are stopped in the middle of your sentence. Every single name is crossed out on the list you had given him. “Does… does what mean they are dead?”

He steps forward, slipping to stand between your knees and bedding over, placing his hands on your thighs. His face was intensely close to yours, dark eyes piercing yours. You lean forward, accepting him in, existing in his precise. Jake did this for you. You were safe here, none of these people could hurt you… but because they had, whether months ago or decades, it didn’t matter. They were dead because they had crossed you, because they had dared to touch what Jake Lockley laid claim to. Jake, Marc and Steven… they were where you belonged.

 “Jake Lockley finishes the job.”

**************

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @the-fox-den @fandxmslxt69

[comradekatara]

Here's a completely random ask for you: what holiday (halloween, valentine's day, national ice cream day, etc.) would each member of the Gaang feel unreasonably strongly about? Can be positive or negative feelings.

oh this is a good question! (i hate so many american commercial holidays so this is a great avenue for me to project my frustrations with us capitalism onto these little guys. and to be clear im just doing us holidays bc otherwise there would simply be too many options and i’d be stuck here forever)

aang: he’s not enough of a hater to dislike any holidays. he’s a big fan of april fool’s day, valentine’s day, and halloween, because he appreciates fun and joy and love and merriment duh

katara: every thanksgiving she goes on an impassioned rant about the historical revisionism of the us empire deployed as a propaganda tool as it continues its genocidal imperialist project and the absolutely sick and twisted audacity of americans to celebrate a known lie in a mockery of the atrocities committed from the past into the present (this one may or may not just have been me, yesterday). every november-december she goes on an impassioned rant about the commercialism of christmas, and how it’s largely a fake holiday devised by capitalists to glorify the sanctity of the nuclear family, and how the supposed “secularization” of christmas is in fact a product of christian hegemony, it’s propaganda and you’re all falling for it because you crave hollow comforts in your cold and dismal life, and instead of attempting to look beyond the scraps you are given under capitalism you all just force yourselves to enjoy a facade of happiness and nostalgia because you refuse to admit that you’re fundamentally uncomfortable in your society!!!!!!!! (this is what i think but wisely refrain from saying because it’s not worth it. katara, however...) also she likes valentine’s day sometimes (depending on whether or not she has a boyfriend). she also has a lot to say on columbus day and the fourth of july of course, but this bullet point is already far too long.

sokka: his favorite holiday is pi day. he does not care for any other us holiday (but he has been known to enjoy a halloween here and there), but he specifically hates april fools because aang insists on pranking him every time, for some godforsaken reason. (he’s just so prankable!)

toph: her least favorite holiday is valentine’s day because it promotes m*rriage, one of her most hated institutions (it’s a long list). her favorite day is taco tuesday

zuko: he insists on celebrating shakespeare’s birth/deathday as if it is a real holiday that anyone actually cares about. and he gets offended when no one else cares. his least favorite holiday is the fourth of july, but not for any political reasons, it just has really bad vibes.

suki: she loves halloween because it has everything you could ever ask for in a single day: dressing in elaborate costume, eating so much candy, and getting really drunk. she’s also one of those people who gets really obnoxious on 4/20, at which point mai is like “you know it’s hitler’s birthday, right?” and immediately kills the vibe. just because she can :)

mai: she has a love/hate relationship with halloween, because theoretically it’s a celebration of the gothic, the liminal, the macabre, the ghostly. but in practice it’s just an excuse for everyone around her to get wasted. she hates christmas more though. santa freaks her out and cloying, forced cheer and merriment is unnerving and infuriating, actually.

ty lee: she dreads valentine’s day every year because she simply has too many suitors and it is very stressful. she likes april fool’s day because it gives her the opportunity to exercise her more devious inclinations. she can prank people so well they don’t even know they’re being pranked; on april first the world is her playground.

azula: she has no real opinion on any specific holidays. they’re petty distractions for mindless drones who require a modicum of frivolity here and there to spice up their otherwise dull, worthless lives. however, she quite likes tax day.