#found these fake flowers in a bush

[nefja]

The cherry blossom trees are blooming 🌸

[msfantasy-anime]

The Very Real Wedding

Monkey D. Luffy x Reader

Summary: a short story prequel to my wife. This is the story of when Sabo and Ace arranged a wedding ceremony for their younger brother.

Part I • Part II

The sky is dark, and the straw hats ships is lively and rambunctious as ever. You sit amongst the crew on deck as you enjoy each others company, and singing songs like the drunkards you were. The mood begins to settle down, as your full bellies urge you all into a food coma, prompting the crew to request you for a story.

“Common Y/n, dont give us the cliff notes of your ‘wedding’ we want to hear the whole story!” Usopp begs making Chopper nod in agreement.

Looking over at your beloved best friend, he just chuckles and waits for you to speak further.

“Okay, if you insist…”

12 years ago in the East Blue

“You’re not seriously going to Dadan’s place again, are you?” Ace taunts the small Luffy, who remains crouched in the bushes, pulling any plant that looks like a flower.

“Of course I am, I promised Y/n I’d bring her flowers everyday.” Young Luffy exclaims, as he ties the specially curated bouquet with a broken vine he found laying on the floor.

“Don’t give Y/n that!” Sabo exclaims, wacking the bouquet from Luffy’s hands. “That vine is poisonous!”

“Ouch, ouch, ouch! It hurts!” Luffy begins to sob, waving his stinging hands around, a reddish rash colouring across his palms.

“You idiot!” Ace scolds. “Let us do it.” Ace grumbles as the two brothers begin to pick out plants for a new bouquet of flowers. “What will it take for you to stop picking these stupid flowers everyday and focus on your pirate training?”

“For her to marry me.” Luffy answers, as he continues to blow air on his itchy hands.

“Fine then, Sabo and I will arrange for your wedding ceremony and then you can finally stop doing this stupid crap everyday.”

“Are you guys serious?!” Luffy exclaims excitedly, his giggles making Ace shudder with creeping awkwardness at his love sick brother.

“Uh huh, sure.” Sabo sighs dismissively, tying off the new bow.

Climbing up the final step, you land on the treehouse entry in your cleanest formal dress as requested by the three boys.

There you saw Ace waiting at the front, his foot tapping impatiently along the wooden plank.

“Hurry up already, we’ve been waiting ages.” Ace hurries you along. Looping his arm through your own and pulling you through the entry.

“This is stupid-Luffy isn’t going to stop visiting me daily just because of a fake wedding ceremony.” You scold the older boy.

“The idiot doesn’t know the difference, just do it would ya?” Of course the question is redundant as Ace shoves you through the entry door and straight into the hideout.

“Dun-dun-dunddun-dun-dun-da-da.” Sabo hums to ‘Here Comes the Bride’ flicking his fingers in the air as if conducting an invisible, silent, orchestra. You could just about laugh at the scene before you.

The boys clearly took the silly celebration seriously.

There’s random bunches of flowers, a make shift wedding arch with a clean dressed Luffy.

You figured, you might as well take the ceremony as seriously as the boys took it.

“Wait, what about the flower girl?” You ask teasingly, to which Ace stomped to the nearest rose. Ripping off the head and throwing the petals to the floor.

“There.” He says bluntly, looping his arm back around yours and tugging you along the ‘aisle’, as you take dramatic steps for your performance.

Arriving at the alter, you’re met with an excited Luffy, who is so filled with energy, he’s practically bouncing in place, which you couldn’t help but giggle at. “Lady and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today to join Y/n and Luffy as husband and wife. If anyone objects, speak now, or forever hold your peas.”

“It’s peace.” You object.

“Why would it be peace? You can’t hold peace, but you can hold peas, so it must be peas.” Sabo justifies as Luffy hums in agreement.

“Oh, that makes sense.” Luffy says as you roll your eyes.

“Luffy do you take Y/n as your-“

“Yep!” Luffy yelps excitedly, his eagerness makes him jitter faster in his place.

“Y/n do you take Luffy as your lawfully wedded husband, to love in sickness and in health until death do you part?”

“I vow to love Luffy even after death.” You say this to tease Luffy, but any of your cold taunting flies right over his head.

“… then I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

As you turn to peak Luffy on his cheek, he smacks a big ole’smooch to your lips. His cheeky smile flashing towards your shocked face.

Without a second to spare, Ace begins to pellet you both with dried rice, with as much force as he could muster.

To which you break out into a squeal running for cover in a fit of laughter.

“Ace you jerk!” Luffy yells in anger. Running towards his brother and tackling him to the ground.

The two roll on the floor, tussling and grabbing at each-other.

Sabo jumps on top of Luffy and Aces trying to break the two up.

Present Day

“Stop it! I can’t handle the crippling loneliness anymore!” Frankly cries again, Robin turns to comfort Franky again as he continues to blow his nose into the hanky.

“What an exquisite story teller you are! I felt like I was there. We need a story teller in the crew don’t we Luffy. Y/n can keep a record of our adventures.” Brook lays his compliments on thick, egging Luffy on as he begins to belly laugh.

You smiled awkwardly at the over the top praise.

“Whattya say Y/n? Wanna join my crew?” Luffy asks, his huge infectious smile crossing his face.

If you have the means to, tips are always appreciated.

[pearlymel]

Heart to heart

⑅˚₊ feat: Diluc, Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Ayato.

Summery: Romantic things you do with them, or they do to you.

notes: all fluff!! Gender neutral reader, mentions of taking a bath with neuvi but nothing sexual. This one was a short one but i enjoyed writing it nonetheless <33 not proofread i tried doing it while writing.

𓏲 ˖. Diluc.

— Picking flowers together. as cliché as that may sound, picking flowers has quickly become one of your favorite activities to do with your husband. Especially when you found a cute way to keep it on without tiring both of you too much, plus you could definitely store it in your journal books.

“Sweetie, hold on,” you take his wrist to adjust the tape around his skin that he seemed to struggle putting on, his confused expressions only fueling you more to do this with him.

“Darling, I’m failing to understand what’s the purpose of this…?” His frown turned upside down at your keen face. Seeing you all excited to do something with him again makes his heart race uncontrollably fast while he tries ignoring the pink rising through his cheeks by faking a cough with his fist covering his mouth.

“Flower bracelets.” You tell him, and before he could register in your words, you quickly laced your fingers with his and walked him out of the dawn winery for a short trip around the garden.

You soon demonstrated your idea of a bracelet flower to him, carefully picking the colorful petaled flower and sticking it on the tape around your wrist. He follows after, even serious about it when he walks around with your hand latched on his free hand, walking you around the bushes while making you sure you don’t trip or get hurt from the thorns of the bushes as he picks matching colors for both of you to wear.

— leaving love notes. But he strictly leaves the small notes around places only for you to see, he’d rather dig into his own grave than have Adelinde read those sweet words he saves only for you.

When you want journal on the desk, a note rests there. When you want to appreciate your appearance infront of the mirror? A note is right there. Do you want to change your clothes after a long day? Surprise, another “i hope you drank water.” Or “i miss you.” Note would hang there.

It has come to the point where you had to send him secret notes in return. So when Diluc opens the lunchbox you prepared for him to eat at angel’s share tavern during rush hours, he’s surprised to see a little hidden note.

With furrowed eyebrows, he picked up the note, eyes scanning through the neatly written “i miss you and i hope you enjoy your meal ♡︎” with a little heart at the end. He thinks he could almost faint.

“Tell me, what does it feel like to be married and have your heart race over the littlest sweet thi—“

“How about you fix your drinking habits, then maybe you won’t throw up infront of your date again. One closer step to marriage.” Diluc interrupts Kaeya’s usual teasings, who now has his jaw dropped. 

𓏲 ˖. Alhaitham.

— enjoying your hobbies together. Alhaitham loves nothing more than a good quiet time with his partner and the smell of new books in the air with every turn of a page. Now if you’re not into reading, then he would gladly read to you while you, sitting comfortably on the carpet with his back against the couch while you are above him sitting on the couch. Playing with his hair or even doing your own thing of you’d like. But if you don’t enjoy him reading to you either, then you talking or also indulging yourself in old hobbies would work for him. Anything as long as you were in the same room as him.

“… and so she came up to me and was like, what’s your hair routine?” You continue mindlessly talking about your earlier encounter with a random person while your hands were busy learning how to crochet.

“And did you tell her your secret?” He asked while flipping onto the next page of his book, “yeah, I wouldn’t gatekeep. Unless i used something that’s really hard to find in the market.” He hummed thoughtfully at your words, a small smile creeping upon his face. 

“And tada, I’m done.” You lower your hand to his head level to show him your newest crochet creation that you were pretty proud of. Although Alhaitham doesn’t know what it is… even when he tried avoiding the urge to ask, he needed to know what the hell you just created.

“And this is…?”

You gasp when he couldn’t immediately and magically figure out what it was, “it’s you!”

“Me?” He squinted at the green creature, fingers skimming over the soft material. Ah, he could finally see it. The little grey strands and wireless headphones that you managed to add. Oh well, he was going to add it to the collection on his shelf where you gifted him the other things you created.

“Thank you… sweetheart.” He let out a chuckle, turning his head to press a kiss at the side of your thigh and you swing your legs back and forth happily.

— cooking together. I believe Alhaitham knows how to cook, even if he doesn’t take a liking to it. It’s important to know and learn how to do things yourself and be independent, though he wouldn’t mind if you didn’t know how to cook. He would gladly cook for you, but he would teach you as well in the process.

“There’s like… sixty ingredients infront of me.”

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“Okay there’s twelve ingredients.” You let out an exasperated sigh as you point out the arranged ingredients on the counter. “What are we even making?”

“Butter chicken.” Your stomach starts growling at his answer, and suddenly, you were determined to finish this dish with him.

“Firstly cut the onions, and ginger. Be careful with the knife.” He would start explaining it one by one while handing you the knife and cutting board. You don’t need to be told twice before you started cutting them up, the part where onions made your eyes tears totally slipped your head. Maybe it was a pain to cook.

“For… the butter chicken.” You say like you were going to disintegrate, Alhaitham shook his head while grabbing a tissue to wipe away those tears.

𓏲 ˖. Neuvillette.

— taking a bath together. As intimate as this sounds, He would rather do nothing but have a warm bubbly bath after a long day reading papers back at his office, with you of course. He finds the comfort of your presence with him to be soothing, and an escape to the overwhelming emotions he felt on a daily basis.

The sounds of moving waters and scrubbing of shampoo mixed with your skilled fingers massaging his scalp was the only thing disturbing the tranquility of the bath.

A low rumble leaves his throat, a soft sigh falling from his lips, “I cannot thank you enough, dearest.” The tension in his shoulders loosened as your nimble fingers massage his scalp, his head tilted back to melt back into your touch. And when you’re not washing him up, he would be right behind you, your back pressed up against his chest and his arms securely around your waist while he presses soft kisses along your shoulders.

“Are you happy, my love?” 

You snorted, “You’re asking obvious questions, honey.” 

“Mm, i can tell by your ear to ear smile. I was only making sure I’m not doing anything wrong.” You should definitely give extra reassurance for this inexperienced dragon.

— holding hands. Whenever neuvillette approached you, you should know that he would and will take your hand into his. Whether it be when you’re asleep, your hand would be held close to his chest. But of course he wouldn’t bother you while you do your chores.. unless you wanted to.. then he would gladly take your hand in his.

You were ready for him to take your hand when you both agreed on going out for a walk as the sun was setting. You watched how he pulled his gloves from his hands, the smooth, supple skin unveiling.

“Somehow, i feel honored to be the one holding your hand without the gloves.” You say in awe as you take his hand which earns a chuckle from him.

“As i am honored for you to accept holding my hand each time.” He spoke in that low and soft tone as you both started your stroll together.

Since it was rare for Neuvillette to be showing himself out in public, you tried taking him somewhere where he wouldn't attract much attention. Just the perfect place for both of you to talk about your day.

He would listen intently, letting the sound of your voice soothe him while he held your hand tightly, his grasp almost bordering on being too hard, but in reality, it was simply because he was afraid of losing you.

𓏲 ˖. Ayato.

— dancing together. It was only one time you mentioned it to him that you were in the mood to dance with him while everyone was asleep, including Thoma retiring for the night. And tonight, you definitely got your wish.

“Where did you learn how to dance?” Ayato smirked at your question as he led you effortlessly across the dancefloor, his hands firm yet gentle on your waist as he guided you in a graceful circle. 

“As the future head of the Kamisato Clan, it was expected that i learn the arts, including dance.” He twirled you around gracefully before pulling you back into his arms, his eyes locked on yours. “But i admit that tonight, I’m enjoying it more than ever before.”

"it's because I'm so good at this, right?" You add sarcastically while wiggling your eyebrows up and down. Ayato chuckled again, his smile widening a bit at your playful comment.

"Naturally, my dear," he said, his voice as well laced with a hint of sarcasm. "You're absolutely flawless, after all."

He pulled you a little closer, his hand snaking around your waist possessively.

"But yes, it doesn't hurt that I have such a graceful partner on my arm." He would then lean closer to rest his chin on your shoulder while you hummed, "You're lucky today, it's not everyday you get to see my talents." You whispered playfully, resulting to both of you laughing quietly in the hallways.

— playing board games together. Yes it's romantic if it gets you to laugh and fall in love more with them as you spend more time together, yes he would challenge you in a game of chess, and yes he would have to teach you how to play if you don't know the rules of it.

You sat across the table from Ayato, your eyes fixed on the chess pieces before you. The game was intense, both of you clearly well-matched. But with each move you made, Ayato was full of praise.

"Clever," he said, nodding in approval as you captured his bishop. "You're getting better at this, darling. Where did you learn to play like this?"

"Only learned from the best." You answer confidently before straightening your posture. But that doesn't mean his sweet talking should make you lose your focus on this game.

"Ah, you flatter me," he raised an eyebrow, his eyes briefly glancing towards you as he moved his knight. "And to think someone as talented as you would learn from me of all people." He spoke softly but in amusement, the words gliding smoothly off his tongue.

Just as you were about to celebrate victory too early, your squint at the board when he announced "checkmate" so innocently.

"I believe that's game," He looked up at you, his eyes gleaming. "Looks like I'll remain your teacher for a little while longer, wouldn't you like that?"

You sigh, a "yay." Escaping your lips unenthusiastically.

[libertyybellls]

FEMALE ROBBERY !

pairing; finnick odair x dist4!victor!f!reader

summary; meeting finnick at your capitol victor party, he is nothing short of entranced.

contains; fluff! just pure fluff, innocent- sweet, comforting, brief mentions of forced prostitution but no detail.

a/n; i was lowkey turning into anakin skywalker when i started writing about how much reader hates sand but it adds personality ok…

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you were shivering, teeth practically chattering. the wide doors that led to the back of the luxurious party-mansion were wide open. your dress offered little warmth and neither did the people around you- their arrogance and bright colors offered no heat, no coziness, no reminders of home.

your wearing a corset dress- low cut, your chest on great display, you feel like the short hemmed bottomed makes you out to flash everyone at this party.

your hair has braids scattered about- your original hair texture is long gone with the amount of heat styling they’ve done on it throughout your victory tour and interviews. bows adorn the ends of each small braid that lays on your now, flat- straight hair.

the meaningless conversation, and congratulations throughout this party is enough to drive you mad. you need air- oh-so cold but nonetheless you needed more air. you’re feet are moving past people- people who grab at you, yelling praises, trying to get a passing word with you.

but you’re mind is racing, you need to sit in silence and breath.

you find a garden- you don’t have enough greenery back in your district, more ocean, too much sand, too much heat.

the sand got everywhere. you couldn’t complain about the ocean- oh, how you loved the water. but once the sand got in your hair, your shoes, your towel, your clothes- it couldn’t get out. it seemed sand would never leave you alone- president snow reminded you all too much of sand.

it felt like an infirmary sentencing, a life estimation. once the words ‘capitols doll’ left his mouth, ‘desirable’, ‘young, sweet, and pretty’ you felt sick- you’d live your life in misery until another innocent tribute would come along and take all of the heat. but you’d always be in a hotel room, in the capitol, entertaining the people like a puppet on a string.

you don’t think you’ve been warm since you heard those words, you don’t think there’s been enough air- but now, in this garden, everything seems okay.

you sit on a bench, rose bushes surrounding you, a few flowers you can name but never seen- only in books.

your hands are in your lap now, fingers playing with one another- your deep breathes began to lower your blood pressure.

until you hear footsteps nearing on the cold- crunchy grass that’s been frozen over from the weather.

he’s tall- shirtless. what stylist would do that to someone in this nippy weather? but you think your stylist would send you off to these parties naked if he had no decency, too.

he’s finnick odair. even the wind flirting your eyes can recognize that. how couldnt you? the poster boy of your district, sex symbol of panem, but you don’t comprehend any of it.

“you’ve found my spot.” he’s smirking, you can understand why people in the capitol swoon over him- not even six seconds and your body rushes with warm blood.

then you process his words, slowly scrambling to grab your clutch and rising to your feet. he puts his hand up, signaling for you to halt your movements.

“it’s nice to have company.” and so you move your bag over , allowing him more room to sit on the bench.

you don’t speak, atleast you don’t know what to say- you don’t ask questions or say something stupid. finnicks voice breaks the thick barrier of silence; “nice party they gave you.”

he’s joking, and his slight laugh makes you laugh. you’d won nearly a month ago- many sleepless nights covered with makeup and fake eyelashes. “yeah, i’m so grateful for them all.” you breathily laugh off.

the playfulness of this all is refreshing. it almost makes you long forget about your grim past and even darker impending doom.

he turns his head towards you, scanning your face- then to the rose bushes surrounding the both of you- then back to your face. “too many roses every where, i’m starting to hate the smell of them.”

you pick up on his small talk, and you almost laugh a little- he’s acting like a grade-school boy. “i’m beginning to think it possibly the ugliest thing natures created now.”

“mags told me about how mentoring you went, we were all relieved when you won.” you wince when you think about that, he knows that better then anyone here. the heart sinking feeling when your brain slips up for a second- that you don’t let yourself think to hard about, nor too long.

“thanks.” he doesn’t even know you yet, but he know that even if you don’t speak too much the ones you do vocalize have meaning, no vacancy in them. “are you cold?” you can’t help but voice your curiosity.

he looks down on himself, almost as though his body brings him guilt in a way. like he’s ashamed to own it, you’re sure you’ll understand soon.

but within seconds his guard is back up, back to the capitol darling. he simply places your hand on his shoulder, he’s forcing your body to move but in the most genuine way anyone has ever done so.

you feel your cold finger tips merge with his radiant shoulder, like a hypothermic to a heater.

finnicks aura is simply heat, not a touch of coldness. you wonder if it’s his insides pouring into his physical being. does he not have any cold feelings in his heart? is he genuine? “how are you warm right now?”

he only laughs as you try to remove your hand from him in the least awkward way you can, placing your hands back into your lap. there’s so many things you want to ask him, tell him. his soul is like a confession booth, that you’ve heard before. all the secrets he knows, all of the words only he’s been told.

“does it get better? even if you’ve been told something that doesn’t make you think it will?” he can only imagine what your last words mean, and now his heart drops. no- not someone like you? so young so unsuspecting, but weren’t they all?

“if you have someone to lean on, you’ll be okay.”

you frown at this, despite your fear of making yourself seem like a complete and utter loser to the golden boy of panem- you say; “and if i don’t?” you can’t help but think about your overworked tired parents, never home, never cared too much. your friends who you don’t see all too much.

“if you don’t,” he looks up from his lap now, eyes locked onto yours, only your eyes ever- not your exposed chest or the dress that rides up your thighs. “you have me if you’re willing, i think we’ve gotten on well.”

this makes you smile to yourself, you can’t look into his eyes any longer you think you’ll get lost. you feel like a school girl, unable to breathe around the presence of your crush. “i don’t know you all that well, finnick odair.”

he shakes his head, “haven’t you read the news, y/n l/n?” he’s mimicking your words, almost in a sing-song way.

“i don’t tend to make premeditated decisions on who someone is based on what the capitol news says. i prefer to get to know them instead.”

“well, let’s get to know eachother then.” his body turns toward you. flattening his hands onto his lap. “favorite color?”

you look at the grass before you, the stems of the flowers around you, the feeble, poor excuses of barely full bushes that line the sand before the water in district four. “green, not a dark green. something in the middle.” your eyes flick back to his, almost the perfect green you were talking about. “and you?”

“blue.” his two fingers pick up the bows at the end of your hair, you almost roll your eyes at this. too charming you could laugh.

“what are you scared of?”

he thinks about this one, taking a moment to relay his thoughts. it wasn’t death, no. he wouldn’t be scared when his time came, he would just hope the people he loves would be okay, that they’d get through it without him.

“becoming one of them.” he nods his head back to the people scuffling about in frilly dresses and skirts around the main party center. “so moral-less, so demanding. so many things i don’t want to be.”

you shake your head now, “i don’t think you could ever be one of them.” to anyone else this would be an insult, being apart of the capitol was little girls and boys dreams. to live so lavishly and carefree. but once you’ve seen it all, you just want to be by the ocean- at peace, unbothered with those who meant the most to you. “you’re much too good for that.”

finnick believes you, it’s like all he’s needed his whole life was your words that had no hint of second meaning. only pure, true, clean. “if it means anything, i know you couldn’t be anyways. no matter how many bows they put in your hair.” he laughs again, that charming chuckle that sends a butterfly to your stomach. “you have a good heart, i hope that it stays that way.”

it’s all so honest , the whole interaction. but you’ve been away from your own party far too long and you’re almost scared to upset people. “i have to go. i’ll see you around, finnick.” his name is foreign to your tongue almost, but its welcome.

finnick then stands quickly, “when will i see you again?” he almost looks worried.

“soon. we live in the same village after all.”

-

inspired by my favorite, @mrsnancywheeler ‘s fic

masterlist

inbox open!

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) Part 3

TW: pregnancies, miscarriages/spontaneous abortions, and other mature themes ahead

Sukuna can still remember your suppressed whimpers when you believed that he was asleep, how your weight would go up and down every few weeks, and how nothing would interest you, not your foreign books or drawings or koto. No matter how many times you two tried or how faithfully you listened to the advice of your doctors and shamans, children were a faraway dream. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…What’s wrong with me?” You used to cry.

“Nothing,” he always answered, rubbing circles on your back. “Nothing is wrong with you.”

You never seemed to hear him. Sukuna would tirelessly comfort you while reassuring you that spending eternity with only you was his idea of a happy life. However, his words fell on deaf ears. You would always hope, and every single time, your hope would get crushed.

Until you discovered yourself pregnant again for three months. The past pregnancies never lasted for more than a few weeks. Sukuna didn’t want you to hope too much, but how could he resist the brilliant smile of his beloved wife?

He accompanied you to every shop for toys and fabrics and clothes and furniture. He patiently gave his opinions on what the baby’s room should be like. 

You successfully carried to term, your belly round with a healthy child. Sukuna had to admit that it was not an unattractive sight, and despite the protests of the midwives, he stayed by your side, dabbing the sweat from your face and neck as you delivered your precious child. Uraume waited outside with a whole parade of maidservants prepared to help you get washed once everything was over. The cotton blanket which would envelope your baby was washed three times. You wove it yourself, pestering your husband to embroider enchantments for protection and a long, healthy life.

However, as you fell back after giving your final push, you instantly sensed that something was wrong. You had silently turned to your husband. “Ryo?” His head was hanging, unable to meet your gaze. He didn’t need to say anything.

You stopped being you that day.

The Sukuna household, which used to be so full of life and music and cheer, was enveloped in darkness. The one and only madam of the house was given a taste of motherhood like she always prayed, but she was never even able to hear her child’s cry let alone hold them. You stopped leaving the main house. You refused to go down the village to browse for any new foreign products. The maple trees you adored were ignored and the garden you personally tended would have wilted completely if not for Ryomen’s intervention.

You slept on the floor right next to an empty cradle. 

You would have died there too if your husband couldn’t take it and spent three straight days pleading for you to try and go out.

“A merchant passed by and Uraume bought several flowers from him,” he said, trying to make conversation as he eased you into the garden. “I think you’d like them. One species even eats flies.”

It was then, Sukuna recalled, when the two of you heard it.

An inhuman sound came from the bushes.

You hurried to investigate, with Sukuna warily following.

“Oh!” You gasped.

“What is it? Are you hurt?”

As if you hadn’t heard him, you dug into the shrubbery. “Here you are.”

“My love, be careful–”

“Naughty, naughty, you made us worried.” You rose to your feet and started cradling… something. 

Sukuna called your name. He didn’t sense any malicious intent right now but he couldn’t risk you getting hurt.

You turned around. “Ryo-chan, I found him.”

The maids knew better than to show their emotions, but their mouths tingled with the desire to gasp and talk amongst themselves.

Sukuna whispered your name and you walked towards him, arms protectively wrapped around a black-striped overgrown cat. You carried it like one would a newborn. 

You made a fake angry expression at the stupid cat as you scolded it:

“Yuji–” that was the name you and Sukuna agreed on while you were eight months pregnant “–you can’t just disappear without asking permission. You made your father and I worried!”

The cat made a sound that could only be described to be close to a purr, but not quite a purr. 

You giggled and nuzzled its nose. “How can I stay mad at you?”

Sukuna watched as you continued to baby the odd-looking cat. You were the happiest he’s seen you in weeks. He missed your smile.

He no longer cared that it was some stray from some traveling merchant. He didn’t care if the damn thing was eating way too much and growing a hella lot for a simple cat. All that mattered was that you were happy. No servant was allowed to treat your behavior as anything but normal. No one was allowed to even try to destroy the illusion. 

There were times when Sukuna swore he could see clarity in your eyes, when you would watch the sleeping “infant” or when you thought you were alone. A part of you must’ve known.

But because you never stopped treating “Yuji” as your beloved child, he never brought it up.

You were eating, you were smiling. You were happy. That was enough for him.

Though admittedly, he hated the little twerp. 

Not only did “Yuji” get spoonfed and burped personally by the madam of the Sukuna household, you also bathed him, dried and brushed his fur, and let the thing sleep between the two of you. 

It was so annoying.

He couldn’t even embrace his own wife anymore.

Now, over a thousand years later, he still had to share his darling wife with this damn brat.

Part 4: An immediate continuation of this chapter

@laurcad123 @aidanstan @deepinballs @satosuguswife

[tamaruaart]

An introduction to my LMK characters :D

So I want to give you all an actual introduction to my LMK/JTTW babies-

So this will be that :) (Note: These are their lmk designs, I might post their jttw book designs some other time)

Zhaoyan "Zhao" Whang'e🍑

Zhaoyan is a Peach Maiden with the gift of healing that was passed down to the girls in her family. Zhao is very calm and motherly, she mostly just takes care of the plants and fruits from the Celestial Realm. However when she's not in the Celestial Realm, she's in Megapolis keeping MK company, MK and Zhao have a very Aunty-Nephew relationship.

Though she might seem social considering she's very good with kids and doesn't seem to have trouble with appealing to people, Zhao is very quiet and actively tries not to make many friends. This is mostly because of her past problems with her relationship towards her family and friends. With her leaving her family because of their mistreatment towards her, and the death of some people that were very close to her, who's death she still hasn't fully recovered from. But don't you worry, MK and Mei are working on helping her past these issues with the help of the gang™ >:)

Quanshuǐ Wǔ🌺

Quanshuǐ is a very warm and sweet person! She's talkative and loves animals. Though she is very sweet she's incredibly clumsy, often messing things up. In her past this lead her to be very critiqued by her fellow Flora Maidens, they would nag her day and night about how she just messes everything up. Because of this Quanshuǐ developed HUGE self worth issues and anxiety.... Or at least until she met Zhao

Zhaoyan was the sister Quanshuǐ never had, instead of tending to flowers who won't judge her all day, she was hanging around the many Gardens of peaches in the celestial realm. Eventually Quanshuǐ took a crack at people again by trying to befriend the other Peach Maidens as well, which she succeeded in doing!

The Peach Maiden's are sorta like her aunties now. She still has a bit of anxiety but for once instead of being around people who make her feel worthless over every single mistake, she's around people who love and appreciate her for who she really is :'))

(The sparrow named Huā is Quanshuǐ's best buddie. Quanshuǐ found Huā injured in the forest one day while she was tending to a rose bush. She took Huā to Zhao so she could heal her, and Zhao told Quanshuǐ she could take care of the sparrow because Zhao isn't the best with any other animals that aren't cats lol)

Yueliang "Yue"🌙

(off topic but why my man be standin' there like: 🧍‍♂️)

Yueliang or Yue as they call him, is an immortal Moon Spirit. He was born from a magical orchid that only grows on the Moon and after Chang'e- the goddess of the Moon found him she decided to take Yue in. Even these days he visits Chang'e very very often. Because that is his mama :>

Yue is a very silly and a "talk before you think" kinda' guy. He's very, very, very charismatic, respectless and chaotic. Nowadays he acts as a Jade Messenger because of his incredible speed. He delivers messages from the Jade Emperor to the other deities, sometimes he even delivers fake rude messages just to cause drama. He gets punished every time but he's just like "Yk what? T'was worth it. >:)".

Not to mention that Zhao and Quanshuǐ are his number 1 prank victims. He once turned all the Immortality Peaches invisible and the Peach Maidens & Quanshuǐ were just freaking the heck out, and he was just spying on them being like: Hehe look at them go :D

And ye, that's everyone for now! If I do make more LMK OCs I will edit this post. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you'll enjoy these little fella's as much as I do! :)

[kitixie]

Gardens of Babylon / T.S.

word count: 4k

information: whew. y'all, this one is long but i am so so proud of it. i loved getting to write this, and i feel like "cowboy like me" now belongs to Tommy. please enjoy!!

warnings: sadness, a lot of self introspection

There had been parties around Birmingham all year, but this one was poised to be the best. Large, white tents covered the ground of the luxurious backyard, the grass freshly trimmed. The pristine flower bushes were banked in sprays of purple, pink and yellow flowers, filling the air with a refreshing scent. Taking in your surroundings was one of your favorite parts of the job. You learn so much about people based on the smallest detail, like how they arrange tables, how well they dress for their own event, how well people try to hide the skeletons in their closets for the night. 

When you were 16, you became your fathers right hand woman. Taking charge of stake-outs, surveying the people your father saw as a threat, and other tasks that most fathers would never let their daughter do. But your father was blinded by his power, only seeing what he could gain, never seeing what others would lose. That’s how you wound up here, five years later, striding through a stranger's yard, using a fake name to get into the event. You just had one specific mission tonight: make contact with Thomas Shelby. 

You found him an hour after the party had started, lounging against an outdoor wall with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. You waited, pulling your own smoke from your small purse, and lighting it up. Standing casually with your shoulders relaxed against the wall, you breathed in, deeply inhaling the nicotine. Immediately, any of the nerves you had relaxed. Thomas was just a man, albeit a dangerous one, but he would never even know your real name. No matter what came from tonight, you would end up back home in your bed. Closing your eyes and opening your ears, you could hear the sounds of music. It was a slow tempo song, but the melody was beautiful. It was a familiar song, although you couldn’t put your tongue on the name of it. Softly humming the song, you stamped out your cigarette and followed the music past Thomas towards the courtyard. Just as your kitten heels touched the dancing floor that had been laid over the grass, a tall figure stopped beside you. 

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” The man asked, only visible in your peripheral. 

“It is, I-“ You turned to face the man, it was Thomas. 

You took him in, he looked much different up close. His file only said ‘brown hair, blue eyes, average build’, but you could see nothing average about the man. He was thick, with wide shoulders and a well defined waist. His eyes weren’t just blue, they were pools of sky and ocean and reflections of the string lights hanging above your heads. His hair was varying shades of brown, ranging from lighter pieces of caramel to deep strands that were almost black. His eyebrows were dark and prominent on his face, but they weren’t too much like some men. His pink lips were turned up into a small smile, and your eyes scanned his face again before catching on his mouth for a moment. You looked him in the eyes as the music changed, the new song catching your attention. 

“Care for a dance Miss….?” He trailed off, waiting for you to tell him your name. 

“Dancing is a dangerous game, Mr. Shelby. But yes, I’d be happy to dance with you.” 

He offered his hand, and the two of you stepped into the crowd of swaying people. He placed his left hand on your waist. The right hand gripping yours. He slowly began swaying the both of you in time to the music, before he spoke. 

“I still don’t know ya name, Love. How come ya already know mine?” He asked, meeting your eyes. 

“My name is Taylor, and I’m not sure if ya know, but you're quite famous around here, Mr. Shelby.” You said, trying to rain in your anxiety. 

Had you fucked up by calling him by his name? He knew he had enemies, and if he was smart, he’d see right through the little innocent girl facade you were using. But maybe, he wasn’t that smart. Maybe, he’d see you, you’d be his perfect type, and there would be no more questions. Maybe the two of you would spend more time together after this and you could cover for yourself even more… no. The rules your father had given were very specific, and you were to stick to them tightly. No unauthorized time with the subject of the mission, at any point in time. The rules were rules for a reason, and there was no questioning them. You had worked to hard, come home too many times with your hands caked in both literal and metaphorical blood to stray now. But this was different, he was different. He wasn’t the usual rich prick who got off too far in debt or the typical middle men who worked for your father than needed to be eliminated. He was someone, something, else entirely. He was kind, and his hands were gentle. His voice was soft yet commanding, and you knew that this man could tell you to drop to your knees and you would, even if your father was standing right behind you. Perhaps dancing with him was more of a dangerous game than you thought. 

“You’re right about that one, Love. Sometimes I just forget who I am when I see a beautiful woman.” He crooned, swinging your arm and making your skirts furl around you as you twirled. 

A blush crept across your face, a laugh breaking through your lips. 

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby, I-“ 

“Please, call me Tommy.” He interrupted. 

“Tommy,” you repeated, letting his name run through your mouth, “I appreciate the compliment but I’m sure there are prettier women at this party.”

“I didn’t say pretty, Taylor, I said beautiful.” He spoke, sliding his hand from your waist to cup your jaw, forcing your eyes to hold his gaze. 

“Actu-, never mind. Thank you, Tommy.” 

Fuck. You had almost corrected him on your name. You needed to get away from him, his scent filling your head and making you feel almost high. It was intoxicating, and it was trouble. No man had ever made you feel like this, not ever. No one had ever taken away you sharpness, and without your wits you felt naked. You inhaled a deep breath, and thanked God when the song ended and he stepped back from you. 

“Taylor, if ya would be willin’, I’d like to spend more time with ya.” Tommy spoke, something sparkling in his eye. 

You swore you knew that look, it was the same look you always gave to targets, to draw them in and make them trust you. To make them do as you said. Before you could even think about it, your mouth opened. 

“I’d love that, Tommy.” You smiled, willing that feeling of mistrust to go away. 

You deserved this, to enjoy him. Even if he was wrong, even if he was your target. You had never wanted love, you had always wanted other things for yourself. But you wanted Tommy, and so for tonight, you would allow yourself to have him. 

- 

“What’ll ya have to drink, Love?” Tommy spoke, turning his entire body towards you. 

He had taken you to a place called The Garrison, which you knew he frequented, but ‘Taylor’ had to act like she’d never heard of it. You’d spent many nights holed up in the dark back corner of this bar, watching him and his brothers pass in and out of the back room. 

“Just a whiskey, please,” You smiled at him, “Whatever kind you’re having is fine.” 

“So and Irish then?” He asked, and you nodded your head in response. 

At least that wasn’t a lie, you did enjoy whiskey on occasion, but never while you had been working. Always the professional, you were thinking of how to use this to your advantage. Drunk Tommy would surely divulge some sort of weakness? Right? 

Tommy grabbed your drinks, and led you to the backroom of the pub. The room was empty, now except for the two of you. He sat down, choosing the table that was circled by a booth seat. He sat with his back to the door, which was an interesting choice that didn’t go unnoticed by you. You sat on the opposite side of the semicircle, and that small creeping feeling came back into your mind. You knew him, more than he would ever know. Thomas Shelby would never put himself at a disadvantage, never. So why put his back to the only door in the room? Why let you be the one with a clear path to escape if somehow this all went wrong? Was he that confident in his ability to charm and wow you, that he would dangle an exit in front of your face, only to be sure that you wouldn’t take it? Your brain was running a thousand words a second, never letting up on the thought that Tommy, who had yet to show any hint of cruelty towards you, was one step ahead. Had he figured you out? It wasn’t possible, your father made sure you stayed hidden until he wanted you to be seen, and even then, you were only seen by those you wanted to see you. How would he have known you were an operative for your father? Did your stumble earlier when he said your alias give you away? Was it the way that you clearly did not belong in the crowd at that party, feet slightly swollen by the tight heels, shoulders hunched over due to the many days you spent curled in a chair by the window? How could he have kn-

“Drink, Love. A blind man could see that somethings on your mind. What is it?” He spoke, sliding a glass of whiskey across the table toward you.

You shakily wrapped your fingers around the glass, pulling it to your lips and taking a long sip. 

“It’s nothin’, just reliving some family troubles in my head. I’d much rather be focused on you though.” You said, allowing a sultry tone to enter your voice; men could never resist. 

“If it's botherin’ ya, it’s not nothing. Tell me about it, believe me, I understand family troubles.” He laughed, taking a swallow from his own glass. 

“I don’t want to rehash it, Tommy, if it’s all the same to you.” You put a stern face on, not liking him questioning you. 

He raised his hands in an apologetic movement, sitting back in his seat. He grazed his eyes across your face, looking over you. Suddenly you felt small, sitting in front of him, telling him half-lies and half-truths. Not that he’d ever know, but you did. The realization that you felt bad for lying to him shot a sharp pain of sadness through your chest, only to be beaten by the overwhelming sense of anger that you felt for feeling bad at all. This was a job, and while yes, you had agreed to let yourself enjoy tonight, that didn’t mean forgetting your assignment. 

“Tell me about you, Tommy. You have this sense of mystery that I can’t figure out for the life of me.” You said, tracing your fingertip around the rim of your glass. 

“Not much to tell, darlin’. I live here in Birmingham with my family, we run a small business. No mum or dad to speak of, I spend a lot of time here, just watchin’.” He spoke, and you felt like he was telling the truth. 

Not that he had said anything you didn’t already know, you knew about his mom and dad, and you knew a hell of a lot about his ‘small business’ as he put it. You knew all about his family, you had almost decided to go for Arthur instead of Tommy, but then you realized that just because Arthur was older didn’t mean he was in charge, and then Tommy became your main target. 

You nodded your head at him, storing all of the information he had said in exact detail in your brain. Tommy studied you, almost as if he was doing the same thing you were. Except now, you thought that he was only studying you because he was interested in you. He watched your eyes, holding contact anytime you accidentally met his. He looked at your cheeks, your mouth, all the way down to your slightly exposed collar bones. He gave you another moment, before speaking up again. 

“Would you like to dance with me, Love?” He asked, extending his hand to you. 

“There’s no music Tommy, what do ya want to dance to?” You laughed, accepting his hand into yours regardless. 

A spark of electricity flew between your connected fingertips, and instead of flinching, you pulled him closer. Now standing in front of him, you had forgotten how tall he was in the short time the both of you had been sitting. 

“I was thinking you could sing, or I can hum if that’ll suffice. I just want to dance with you, Taylor.” He spoke, his shining eyes looking into yours with what seemed like only adoration. 

“Start humming then, Tommy, because I can’t carry a tune in a bucket,” you laughed, “My mother could sing wonderfully, but I never inherited that talent.”

Tommy began to hum, a soft song coming from his lips. It sounded familiar, but you couldn’t place it. Not that it mattered, if you ever recognized the song, this would be the moment it was tied to. This second in time, burned into your brain for the rest of your life. His hands delicately on your waist, with your hung over his shoulders. Your fingers lightly scratching the nape of his neck while he rubbed his hand up and down your back, slowly swaying the both of you in rhythm to the song he was creating. The skirt of your dress swishing around the both of your feet, the quieted sounds of the pub outside going silent in your mind. Here, in your space, it was only you and Tommy. Over the years, you had charmed countless men, telling them anything they wanted to hear, even doing some of the questionable things they wanted to do. Whatever it took to get the job done. This felt different though, this felt soft and warm and inviting. Tommy felt like he belonged in your arms, and that if he were to leave them, the awkward limbs would never fit against your side again. He felt like a home, a breath of fresh air, a lover. This was romantic and sweet, and the longing in his eyes and gentle touch of his hands only escalated that feeling for you. 

Tommy stopped humming a few minutes later, but he continued swaying with you in his grasp. He leaned his head towards yours, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your hair. You nuzzled your head into his chest, inhaling the scent of tobacco and whiskey. He let his lips linger on your crown, not moving from his spot. 

“I think I should take ya home, aye Love? It’s pretty early in the morning.” He softly said, almost not speaking loud enough to hear. 

“If that’s what you want, Tommy. I’d be content to stay here dancing with you for a very, very long time.” You tilted your head up at him. 

Tommy slid his hands up your back and over your shoulders, ending with his palms against your cheeks. He stared into your eyes for the hundredth time that evening, and there was something unfamiliar in them. Whatever he was feeling, you couldn’t read it, but you didn’t care. All caution and sense gone to the wayside, you perched on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He deepened the kiss, pulling your entire body into his. The two of you fit together perfectly, bodies molding into each other, forming one being. This kiss was only your second kiss ever, so there wasn’t much to compare to, but it was mind blowing. His warmth spreading all over your body, from your connected lips to the spots his hands rested to the way he had situated you with your legs on either side of one of his lean legs. 

Eventually you pulled away, finally needing air. He still cupped your face, both of your foreheads pressed together. His chest was heaving, panting breaths coming from both of your mouths. 

“It’s time to get you home, Love. Before I lose all composure and ruin this perfect night.” He breathed, untangling your bodies and pulling his face from yours. He still held your hand, leading you toward the door that would lead into the main pub, then out of the bar altogether. You took in the scene one last time, knowing that this could never happen again after tonight. You had let your ambitions slip, almost too far to come back from. Your heart beat wildly, the organ not caring about the betrayal you were imposing upon your father. How could you care about that miserable man, when the God that was Thomas Shelby was holding your hand, escorting you to your apartment? 

Tommy deposited you at the door to your small apartment, the walk to your home having been mostly silent. No words needed to be shared between the two of you, both of you having the dreading feeling of something coming. You didn’t know what was coming, but none of it mattered as he pressed his lips gently to your cheek, before pulling back to speak. 

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Love. Would you mind if I called you sometime to do it again one day?” He smiled, softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb. 

“I’d love that, Tommy.” You grinned back, writing your phone number down onto a small piece of paper you had in your purse. 

He took the paper, pressing one last kiss to your lips. His mouth was firm against yours, yet it moved so softly and swiftly that the fierceness in his actions didn’t scare you. Your body reacted, back arching into him while your mouth matched his movements. You gripped the side of his face, daring him to try and back away before you were done with him. His hands clasped around your waist, tugging on your already arched back, trying to get you as close to him as possible. The both of you tugged and moved against each other, not caring that you were in a hallway and that any neighbor, all of whom worked for your father, could step out at any moment. Almost sensing your tensing, Tommy slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes while his chest heaved. 

“I’ll see you later, Tommy?” You asked, hoping and praying that he’d say yes. 

“Goodbye, Taylor.” He smiled, kissing your hands before turning and walking down the hallway, your paper still tucked in his left hand. 

-

It had been four days since you met Tommy, and two days since you started being paranoid. You would not leave your machine unattended for more than 10 minutes at a time, and when you had to leave its side for things like food and cleaning yourself, you made sure no other noise was going on so that you’d be able to hear it when it rang. He had to call eventually, he had said he would. You knew he was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of his descriptors in his file. He had never been known as a man who didn’t tell the truth, his truthfulness was honestly one of his greatest downfalls. It got him in trouble quite often, causing him to blurt off whatever he was thinking, with no care for the consequences. 

This time wasn’t different, right? Surely he didn’t charm you all night, walk you home, ask for your number, make out with you outside the door of your apartment, then just not call? 

The anxiety had begun to take its toll, your skin becoming more pale and dreary than usual, eyes slightly hollowing from the lack of proper food and sleep. No time could be wasted, not when he could call at any hour. You waited, and waited, and waited. He would remember what the two of you shared, surely. He would. 

-

On day seven, you found a small paper slid under your door. It wasn’t from your fathers office, and you didn’t recognize any of your few friends stationary. Cautiously, you unfolded it, reading the words scrawled in ink. 

‘Taylor, or should I say Y/N, I hope this letter finds you well. Truly. However, I do not like being lied to. You have not received any calls from me because I never intended to call you. I let my wits leave me that night, and it will never happen again. You are not who you said you were, and for that I cannot ever trust you again. If you ever see me in Birmingham, do not approach me and pray my brothers do not see you first. I liked you, Darling, I am damn near certain I loved you, but that does not matter if I cannot trust you. I know who your father is, I have known from the moment I saw you smoking in that courtyard, yet you were so beautiful I could not help myself. Do not worry, for your sake, I will not speak of this to anyone if you do not. If you do, I will know, and I will be forced to retaliate. I wish you the best in this life, Love. 

All the best, 

Thomas Shelby

& The Peaky Blinders’ 

You dropped the paper, letting it flutter to the floor. Tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. How could you ever be so foolish? You had let this man control your life for the past seven days, dictating how you ate, how you slept, how you looked at yourself. Every doubt of his character from that night came rushing back. You had been right to think those things of him, to not trust him, but he was so beautiful and gentle, and he sucked you in. He devoured you, and you were happy to offer yourself up for him. You would have been happy to do anything he asked of you. 

Your breaths began to become short and exasperated, your face hot and wet from the tears. It felt like a chokehold around your throat, but there were no hands on your throat but your own. You clawed at your skin, willing it to tear open just so you could breathe, but it didn’t happen. You scratched and scratched until you bled, only stopping when you saw the crimson underneath your fingernails. Breathing still did not come, so you laid on the floor, sobbing and heaving, until you had no more tears and oxygen entered your lungs once more. You clung to the piece of paper, the last bit of Tommy you would ever have. You could not have him, but you had his words and his handwriting. You had the faintest smell of him in the paper, the littlest bit of him still with you. His words would be all that you were left with, while he was saddled with his love and your guilt. You wished you had just told him your name, just told him who you were. Damn all of this if it meant you could have him, but it was too late. You would never get to see him again, never get to smell him, never get to touch him. You would never have any part of Tommy Shelby ever again except for this letter and your memories. No man would compare to him, no man could. The way he held you, the way conversation was so effortless and comfortable. The way that even in silence, he filled up a space, never letting you feel alone. He was something so special, so tangible, and you had lost him. There would never be another love for you, never be anyone else. He was your love, even if only for that night, and you knew in your soul that you would never love again. 

[icarus-star]

nsfw alphabet // gage

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he's honestly pretty distant. he's not super good with things like physical touch or telling you that you did good. he just doesn't know how. so i think you'd have to be the one giving him aftercare.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he doesn't really think about things like that, but if you really made him choose, fem!reader: he likes your hips. they're easy to hold onto in a crowd, or in bed. he doesn't care if they're wide or not, he finds it comforting to hold onto them as well. masc!reader: he likes your hands. especially if you have a hobby that includes moving them around meticulously (playing guitar, crocheting etc.) he likes to watch them. gn!reader: your eyes are captivating to him. he likes the way you look at him with them, it's nothing short of love.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he doesn't care where he cums. he doesn't have a thing for cumming anywhere specific, so wherever you want him to finish is where he'll finish. you want him to where a condom? sure! you want him to pull out and cum on your ass? okay!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he can't get a boner from watching porn. he's never found it appealing, and it's too fake for him. you're definitely one of the few things that he actually finds sexually arousing.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

no experience, barely any knowledge on the subject due to the little (to no) amount of schooling he got as a child. he'd appreciate it if you helped him out.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary. it's simple and it gets the job done. he does also like seeing your face, especially when you're moaning so loud for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he's very serious. he's never a goofy guy, and if he were to try being funny it would probably be the most unfunny dry humor ever.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he definitely doesn't care to shave. there's definitely a semi-large bush of hair that he also doesn't really.. wash. nor does he have the best hygiene in general, so maybe help him out! please. it's gross.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

i think he can be pretty intimate! not in the "flower petals and wine" kind of way, but rather "holding you really close to him while he pounds you" way!

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

rarely ever. i mean, he's never horny. maybe if he's had a really long and tough day and he needs to unwind, just maybe he'll touch himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

pretty vanilla, to be honest. he's kind of rough, so he'll pull your hair a bit, but that's not necessarily a kink or anything to him. it is easier for him to be mean during sex, so if your into that you're in luck. because if you ask him, he will degrade you and slap your ass.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

anywhere. he's kind of shameless. he'll fuck you in a back alley, in a forest, a convenience store bathroom. if one of you is horny, you're gonna end up taking care of it together.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

neck kisses. a little basic, yes, but nothing gets him going more than the feeling of your lips on his neck. especially if you bite, he likes that.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he's not into anal. on himself or you. it's something that he's never been interested in, and something about it grosses him out.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

not a fan. he likes it fine, sure, but he prefers to just fuck you. fem!reader: he doesn't know what he's doing, nor is he good at it. but i can say for certain that he loves to kiss the inside of your thighs. masc!reader: he prefers giving you handjobs. he'll definitely tease the tip with his thumb, smearing your precum all over the head of your cock.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

oh he is so sloppy, hard and fast with you. he absolutely ruts against you, gripping your waist as tight as he can.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he doesn't mind them. as i said earlier, if you're both horny out in public, he's definitely gonna go take care of it with you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

sure! he'll cum inside of you without a condom, fuck you in public etc.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

maybe two rounds. the first one rough, and he's thrusting really hard and fast into you doggy style. and the second is just a little bit more sensual in missionary.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

probably not. he just doesn't think that they're a necessity, and that he can always make you feel better than they do.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he can be a bit of a tease. he would definitely edge you if you wanted him to, and would probably end up developing a kink for it.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

not super loud. he mostly let's out little grunts and moans, the occasional whisper of how tight you are or how good your doing.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

fem!reader: he would 100% have sex with you on your period. it's not a kink, per se, but he would love it. masc!reader: frotting. god, he loves rubbing your dicks together. and then it ending with both of your bellies covered in each others cum.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

average in length. around 5.7 inches. very pale shaft with a pinky-purpley tip. definitely super veiny.

not high at all. sometimes he'll even deny you when you're in the mood (he'll finger you if you beg). anyways, probably a 4.9/10 on the scale.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he's not really the type to fall asleep. he's always super alert to thing's, so he'll let you fall asleep next to him (or in his arms if you forcibly make him hold you).

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

More of Viserys and Stark!reader.😁😁

The Right Path

pairing: Fanon!Viserys Targaryen x Female OC

summary: More of Viserys and Stark!reader, Elna trying to interact with Rhaenyra

Word count: 2,4K

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Elna was more than happy, she was overjoyed. The King had chosen her for a bride and announced that during a small council meeting, she was not in attendance but her father was there. He came running to her to inform her of the King's decision. Her father was happy for her but he only showed her his sorrow of having to be separated, even little Cregan threw a tantrum.

Elna however needed to breathe a little, she needed to get her thoughts straight. She liked the king, he was nice to her and she was happy she would not end up with a dying man however this was all too much for her, she was going to be Queen, that was a huge responsibility. So Elna decided to take a walk in the gardens after she successfully put Cregan down for his nap.

She enjoyed the sight that greeted her, a sight she was going to see for a very long time, the gardens looked like they were alive with so many flowers and trees, something she did not see back at home. She no longer needed to pick flowers from the southern regions when visiting because she was going to have it all here.

Elna had walked for a short time when she caught sight of a weirwood tree. She knew they had one here but she did not know the location, but now she knew where to go to pray. She was a couple of steps away still hidden behind a bush when she saw princess Rhaenyra and Alicent Hightower sat under the tree. The princess was pulling on the grass looking angry while the Hightower girl looked relieved.

"I cannot believe he wants to marry so soon after mother's death. Has he no respect?" Rhaenyra threw some of the grass in her hands somewhere by her feet. Elna's heart dropped at the words, she did not think the princess would be so angry with the marriage, she had been so caught up with her own family and the king to think of the princess.

"Princess, your father has the right to remarry" Alicent tried calming down the dragon princess.

"To a northerner savage, out of everyone" The princess pushed herself up from the floor and started pacing. The Hightower girl remained seated but started twiddling with her thumbs.

"I am sure Lady Stark is not so bad, I have heard many great things about her" Alicent defended Elna. She was just glad she had not been chosen.

"Yes and she will give my father sons and then I will be thrown away when I am no longer heir" The princess hissed. Elna now understood that the princess was not only enraged and sad over her father's decision but also afraid.

Elna decided that hiding was no longer an option, she had too much to say. She faked a cough putting on a smile and moved out from behind the bush. She acted shocked seeing the two girls only a couple of years her junior.

"Forgive me princess, I did not know you were here" Elna curtsied trying to keep her smile gentle. She did not want to anger the princess even more.

"What are you doing here?" Rhaenyra asked with anger lacing her words. She crossed her arms in front of her protectively.

"I heard there was a weirdwood tree and wished to pray" Elna answered. She stepped closer to the duo. Alicent had pushed herself to her feet by then and stepped closer the princess. Rhaenyra eyed her weirdly, she had no escort, not even a handmaiden.

"I am gladdened to have found you here, I intended on visiting you princess" Elna continued before the princess could speak. Rhaenyra's eyebrows shot up in confusion and shock.

"Visit me? What for?" The princess asked suspiciously. Elna found her palms growing wet with sweat, she was nervous with the way the princes was seizing her up and down like some criminal.

"I am sure you have heard of the King's decision-" Elna started. She took a deep breath to summon every single piece of bravery she had in her body and stepped closer to the princess.

"- I wanted to tell you that I do not intend to take your mother's place neither in your life nor the king's or int he kingdom-" Elna reached over to grab the princess' hand in hers gently, not wanting to startle her or make her think she was here to attack her.

"- if you wish I will not even show you my face if that makes you feel at ease but I assure you princess that if I and the king were to be blessed with children you would still be a priority to us both and the heir will remain to be you" Elna finished. Alicent took a step back giving the two women their moment. But the shock on her face was still evident.

"You could never take my mother's place, you are nothing compared to her, so do not attempt to win me over with your words, that will not work on me" The princess pulled her hands out of Elna's hands harshly and pushed past her to walk away. Elna stumbled a little back when Rhaenyra's shoulder collided with hers.

"Apologies Lady Stark, the princess is a little stressed" Alicent picked up the hem of her dress and followed after the princess. Elna rubbed her shoulder as her eyes darted back to the red tree. Her eyes welled up with tears, feeling humiliated at being rejected but pushed them back.

She stepped closer to the tree kneeling down by one of the roots. Her hands glided over the rough surface remembering her mother. Her mother always told her to have patience, Elna believed that she had patience, she raised her brother from the moment he was born and her mother died. But the princess seemed nowhere near close to warming up to her.

Elna wished her mother was here to advice her on what to do and how to act. If she were to tell her father he would simply tell her to endure it and Elna knew that was not the right way to face the situation, yes the princess needed time but at the same time Elna needed to do something to win the princess' favour. She did not come to the capital to make enemies.

"Lady Stark" Elna jumped at the new male voice. She turned around to find the King standing where she had stood earlier with his hands behind his back.

"Your grace" She stood back up to her feet and curtsied. The King stepped closer to her loosing his smile at the sight of her tears.

"Why are you crying, Lady Stark?" He placed his forefinger under her chin and raised her head up so she would look at him. Elna knitted her eyebrows in confusion and raised her hand to touch her cheek to find it wet and immediately wiped the tears away.

"I had not noticed" She admitted. She gulped trying to compose herself.

"Did the thought of marrying me repulse so?" The King joked. She shook her head with a small giggle.

"Of course not, I just - I wish my mother was here tis all, your grace" She heaved a sigh. The king placed a hand on her cheek trying to comfort her.

"I am sure she is happy for her wherever she may be" The king's words made Elna's heart flutter. She smiled, just a tiny smile, but it was enough for the king.

"Your words comfort me, my king" She placed a hand on top of his over her cheek. The King clicked his tongue disappointed.

"Call me Viserys" He grinned when her cheeks darkened and she dropped her gaze down. His eyes trailed over to the tree when a thought struck him.

"Do you wish to marry here? In the ways of your people?" He asked. He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to the tree.

"What about the maesters and the seven and the people?" She asked feeling dumb when she realised that she knew nothing of this religion, her father did not spare this religion a second thought and refused to teach her and Cregan about it. She knew only from what she had heard from other people.

"I am the King" He reminded her. her mouth opened in an O shape and nodded her head. Viserys chuckled tightening his grip on her hand when something caught his eye, the history book of Aegon the conquerer.

"Do tell me Lady Stark, was there a different reason for your tears?" The King asked. He let go of her hand to grab the book delicately to not damage the old pages.

"No, why, my king- Viserys" She paused when he turned to glare at her and immediately changed the way she addressed him.

"I wonder-" He held up the book to show her. She tilted her head to the side confused.

"It was my daughter, was it not?" He asked. His eyebrows twitched into a frown of his own.

"The princess? no she welcomed me warmly" Elna tried to cover up. She did not come here to make enemies meaning she will not be the reason that a father and daughter fight each other. She could not bare it.

"Do not lie to me" The King demanded. Elna swallowed the lump in her throat and looked down at her feet. She could not lie to the King either, he was the king and her future husband.

"I will talk to her" He intended for his words to assure her but she only looked at him with horror.

"NO, I mean please do not mention this, she just needs time" Elna tried to stop him when he attempted to bypass her. The King was more than confused but nodded nonetheless.

"How about you show me the rose bush again?" She wrapped her arms around one of his and pulled him away from the weirwood tree. Viserys was not dumb, he knew she was changing the subject but did not mention it now curious how she was going to act to win his daughter over.

It was the same day the King announced that a feast will be held to celebrate the betrothal between him and Elna. Her father insisted she wore a grey dress one last time before she would join house Targaryen and wear red and black for the rest of her days. She could not say no and wore her favourite grey dress that was off shoulder and had bell sleeves. She also made Cregan wear the same of grey matching with her.

When they arrived at the feast she was sat beside the king with her father on her other side and an empty seat beside the king for the princess. Cregan was sent to play with the other children of the nobles with his wet nurse to look after him.

"My King, the princess seems to be running late" The Hand of the King pointed out also noticing the lack of his own daughter's presence.

"She's going to be the end of me" Viserys replied. He had hoped she would come and not make a fuss of it but now he could see that she had not intention of showing her face at the feast also sparking he rumour of her not accepting the betrothal.

"If I may my king-" You spoke earning the attention of both men. The Hand glared at you heatedly as you moved your body closer to the king.

"-I can go and see if the princess is alright" You suggested. You gave a nod to Viserys wanting him to accept. The King was hesitant but accepted either way. You pushed your chair back and made your way out of the hall accepting congratulations with a sweet smile and grace in your movement.

You had to ask some guards for the way to the princess' room but finally found your way. You knocked on her door before stepping in. She was sat on her bed with a dress by her side. Alicent was sat beside her in a beautiful green dress and she looked ready for a feast while the princess looked like she was ready to go to bed.

"What are you doing here?" The princess asked, angrily standing on her feet to glare at you.

"Lady Hightower, if you do not mind, I wish to speak to the princess" You nodded at the door. Alicent was hesitant but moved closer to you. You moved to the side giving her space to pass before closing the door behind her.

"What do you want?" The princess asked harshly. You had to push back a wince at her tone but you lost the sweet smile on your face.

"Listen Princess, I know you view me as a horrible person, a monster here to steal your father and throne but I am not a monster and I will not steal either one" You moved closer to her. Your tone was stronger and your patience was wearing thin, even if it had been only a day.

"You are the princess and the heir and my father bent the knee to you in extension the north meaning I am loyal to you. A Stark has never broken and oath and I will be damned if I were to be the first" You leaned closer to her, and her eyes followed your every move, your fingers wrapped around the dress on the bed.

"You will wear this beautiful gown and you will come with me to the feast, your father is worried sick about you" You held out the dress to her. She took it from you but still watched you every move.

"I am not your enemy Princess, I wish only for us to become friends. I wish not for a rivalry to grow between you and my future children" The princess sighed sadly. She nodded her head accepting the words of Elna. She may have not warmed up to her but she was on the right path.

Rhaenyra changed her clothes before the women made their way back the feast. The king's face lit up at the sight of his daughter walking into the ballroom with Elna by her side. Rhaenyra was still stiff in her walk and when she sat down but at least she had a tiny smile on her face, and that was good enough for now.

[mastertengen]

Satoru Gojo x Fem reader

a/n: the personality will be based off of Makima from csm

category: Fluff

Possible ooc

Gojo attempts to take you out on a date

Gojo had been trying for weeks to convince Y/n to go on a date with him, but she always found a way to turn him down. It seemed like she was determined to keep their relationship strictly professional. But Gojo was relentless and refused to give up, He even asked Itadori, Nobara, and Megumi to help him Megumi refused but he was forced to anyways

One day, as they were discussing their plans for the weekend, Gojo mustered up the courage to try once again. "Y/n, I know you've been avoiding going on a date with me, but I promise it'll be fun. How about we go out this Saturday?" He smirked

I sighed, clearly hesitant. "Gojo, I've told you before, I don't think it's a good idea. We work together, and I don't want things to get complicated, Everything is strictly professional between us."

Gojo smiled mischievously, his eyes twinkling. "I understand your concerns, but what if I told you I know the perfect place to go to~? It would definitely make you change your mind."

I raised an eyebrow, curious about his sudden change in approach. "And where would that be?"

Gojo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, enticing tone. "There's this amazing sushi restaurant that recently opened downtown. They serve the most delicious and unique sushi rolls you've ever tasted. It's an experience that you won't want to miss."

My eyes widened with newfound interest. I was a sushi lover, and the thought of trying new and innovative rolls was tempting. Still, I fought to maintain my resolve. "Nice try, Gojo, but sushi isn't enough to change my mind, You should knot that."

Gojo leaned back, pretending to be disappointed. "Well, if you say so. I guess I'll just have to enjoy those mouthwatering sushi rolls all by myself!"

I hesitated for a moment, my curiosity still getting the better of me. "Okay, fine. But this doesn't mean anything. It's just sushi."

Gojo smirked, victorious. "Of course, just sushi. I'll pick you up at seven on Saturday then."

As Saturday evening approached, Y/n found herself getting a a bit nervous. It wasn't a date, she reminded herself. Just two colleagues going out for sushi. But when Gojo arrived at her door, dressed in a sharp suit and holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers, Y/n couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement, A small smile planted on her lips.

They arrived at the sushi restaurant, and Y/n was immediately mesmerized by the elegant ambiance and the mouthwatering aroma of freshly prepared sushi. As they sat down, Gojo ordered an assortment of rolls, each more creative and delicious than the last. Y/n couldn't help but be swept away by the culinary experience.

As they laughed and shared stories between bites, Y/n realized that she was genuinely enjoying herself. The false facade she had built around her slowly began to crumble, and she allowed herself to relax in Gojo's company.

By the end of the night, Y/n found herself smiling and feeling a warmth in her heart that she hadn't felt in a long time. As they left the restaurant, Gojo glanced at her with a knowing grin. "I told you, Y/n. Sushi has its way of making everything better."

I smiled, my resistance finally giving way. "Maybe... just maybe, there's more to this than just sushi on the other hand, Our relationship is still strictly professional."

Gojo's grin widened and then he pouted at last thing i said, But he took my hand, intertwining our fingers. "I'm glad you finally gave me a chance, Y/n. But hey, You enjoyed it didnt you ?"

Y/n nodded, Before she can reply she hears a noise in the bush behind them, Gojo practically sweatdropping

"This is your fault, Itadori! Now they see us!" Nobara shouted her fake disguise falling off her face

"My fault!? You were the one that kept kicking me and Fushiguro!" Itadori shouted back, As he pushes her out the bush

I walk forward, Dragging Gojo along with me "I made sure to leave some sushi left back for you guys, But on the other hand, I knew you guys were here I enjoyed the show." I smile as the group of 3 tries to catch up to us.

A/n: I giggled while writing this if theres mistakes ignore it atp

[pocketramblr]

I'm still on a fairy tale kick! Please give me 5 headcanons for a Sleeping Beauty AU where All for One made up a story about his brother being cursed to prick his finger on a spinning wheel and die as an excuse to keep poor Yoichi locked up and isolated. Maybe he even faked an evil fairy incident. Thank you!

1- Yoichi loves fairy stories, always has, and the beautiful illustrations of them too. AfO has not, because when Yoichi is paying attention to the books, he isn't paying attention to him. When Yoichi asks him why he hates fairies so much, AfO says it's because they ruined Yoichi, cursed him. Gave him his tendency to be ill, and awkward, and that before his sixteenth birthday, he'd be pricked with a spindle and die.

2- Yoichi is pretty sure he made that up, but unluckily for him he's in the au where AfO gets to have a despotic boyking era, so when the prince asks about fairy stories the staff all nod along because he's sweet, and when AfO glares at them, they agree the curse happened. Every regent or advisor who's attempted to control the kid has ended up very dead, so everyone just kinda hope the boy grows out of it. And well, no one's exactly expecting Yoichi to live even to twenty anyway.

3- When the boys are thirteen, the carriage is attacked by someone jumping out of nowhere in a strange mask, holding out a spindle and lunging for Yoichi. AfO knocks them back and the fae flees. AfO announces it's clearly too dangerous for Yoichi to leave the castle grounds. When the boys are fourteen, Yoichi is enjoying the gardens and picking a flower when a lose spindle drops out of the bush, missing where his hand was by inches. He watches from the window as dozens more are found. AfO declares it too dangerous for Yoichi to go outside. When Yoichi is fifteen, something with glowing eyes half crawls through his window before being chased out, the spindle the only thing left. AfO moves Yoichi to a basement room with no windows.

4- Yoichi tolerates it for a time, before telling his brother that once they turn sixteen, this can end, he'll have beaten the curse. AfO remarks that he must have misheard- the curse was before his sixtieth birthday, not sixteenth. The next time that AfO visits, he finds Yoichi despondent, not reacting to anything, including him. AfO has to threaten to kill random servants and guards before Yoichi will eat, but he only speaks to ask to be released, and AfO finish the story. AfO always refuses.

5- eventually, the servants and guards have had enough. A maid flies into AfO's rooms one morning screeching that there are no guards downstairs anymore, only frogs in tiny suits of armor, and she couldn't find the one with the key to the prince's room. AfO races down with his key, the maid not following but slipping outside, and on opening the door finds Yoichi's bed empty. All that's on it is a spindle, wrapped in silvery hair, not thread, and a piece of paper with a drawing of Yoichi, eyes closed in sleep and wearing a crown of tiny golden spindles, with mirrored writing that says "Don't invite the fair neighbors where you don't want them to step."

+1- while AfO has his breakdown, Yoichi and every guard who'd worked down there is already smuggled out of the palace. For his own part, he's in a cart of straw, listening to Bruce complain that they should have saved a couple of the little suits of armor they'd all worked together to make for the frogs his cousin Hikage had helped collect, and Kudo telling him to stop complaining.

[life-winners-liveblog]

Story time? Story time! The translation might be a little off but the singing flower is an interesting one, I promise

A king had two children, a boy and a girl. Since he was old, one day they told them "to the one that will bring me the golden ball I'll give my kingdom".

The two kids left and arrived at the woods. There, they saw two roads; the little boy took the one to the right and the little girl the one to the left.As they already looked for some time, the boy having found nothing but the girl found the golden ball.

They came back to where the road forked and the boy was jealous of the luck his sister had.

"Give me the golden ball" said the boy

"I cannot"

"Give it to me or I'll kill you"

"You will not get it"

Then the boy killed his sister, dig a hole and put her in it. He took the golden ball and brought it to his dad.

"Where is your sister" asked the king.

"I don't know, she stayed in the wood" lied the boy.

But on the little girl's grave grew a rose bush with a pretty bush. A shepherd, going this way, take the flower and put it in his pocket. The rose began to sing.

"Shepard, shepard

It's my brother that killed

To get the golden ball

It's my brother that killed me

To get the golden ball"

The shepherd got scared and brought the rose to the king. The shepherd took the rose in his mouth and it began to sing. The king did it too, and the rose again began to sing.

"Father, father.

It's my brother that killed me

To get the golden ball

It's my brother that killed me

To get the golden ball"

The king called his son and made him put the rose in is mouth too.

"Brother, brother

It's you that killed me

To get the golden ball

It's you that killed me

To get the golden ball"

And the king understood everything . He asked the shepherd to guide him where he found the rose, and began to dig the grave. But, as soon as he began, the little girl was alive again. The king was happy to see his daughter again and put his son into a bag, throwing him alive to the water.

- General

Scott: I did not expect that ending... It's surprising.

Grian: Guess It's time for another story?

Scott: I've done 2nd reign then 4th reign, I think we could do some 3rd reign literature...huh

Grian: Is there a problem?

Scott: 3rd reign literature tends to be poetry so I don't know what stor- wait nevermind, I know just the one! Once upon a time there was a wise king, the king on birthday made an announcement: he invited the 10 strongest and most powerful witches of the land to prove their worth in front of his court and him and the winner would become the kings personal spellcaster granting them riches and resources others wouldn't even dream of.

Scar: Ohhhhhh! Magic battle!

Scott: The 10th witch, powerful in the arts of the flame, never arrived to the challenge thinking herself above such competitions, and the 9th felt too insecurr to partecipate, leaving 8 witches to compete-

Grian: Stupid decision really.

Scott: The first challenge was easy, the witches had to find a diamond needle in a muddy plain. The 8th witch, the witch of ice and snow appalled by the tought of reaching into the mud quit the competition, while the 7th witch, the witch of the deserts, was incapable of finding the needle in the mud and was eliminated.

The second challenge was slightly more complicated, around the forest were scattered magical items that had to be found. The 6th witch, surrounded by the power of the sea barged into the forest without plan and was never seen again, the 5th witch covered by the smell of dark magic and undead attracted the attention of the forests spirits and was eaten by the forest itself.

The time for the third challenge came, the witches had to convince the kings daughter of their worthyness trough speech alone, the sound of ticking clocks that accompanied the 4th witch annoyed the princess and she was denied, the 3rd witch covered in vines and blooms was also denied for her fake flattery had enraged the princess.

The fourth challenge was the biggest, two dragons had been terrorizing the kingdom and had to be slayed. The 2nd witch armed with the gift of lightning attacked the dragon head on and managed to defeat it but her brash actions left her wounded and poisoned to die little time later. The last witch however was full of wisdom and she had known the dragon was not attacking the village for evil, but only because of a curse, so instead of slaying the beast she freed it from the curses influence and the dragon indebited swore his loyalty to the kingdom. The Witch was immediately made the kings spellcaster for she had not only accomplished the tasks but she had also gained the kingdom a powerful ally.

[fingerless-glovez]

College au part 2

Guy

• Majoring in political science and government

• Genuinely interested in politics, just isn't as intense about it as Roc

• Wants to be friends with people but Roc said "no"

• Not like most people want to be real friends to him anyway, especially not in his course

• Is currently being pressured to accept a political marriage, but would rather marry for love (sap)

• Jasper is the only one who understands

Dia

• Majoring in botany

• Attends all of his classes virtually

• Has a mushroom farm in his room

• He sings to them to help them grow. Aquia is sworn to secrecy about it

• Has Lou wrapped around his finger

• Found a snake in the bushes, named it Linos, and it is now his pet. Lou was unsuccessful in convincing him to put Linos back outside

• Is this grounds for expulsion? Yes. Does Lou expel him? Nope. Why? Because Dia is why

Sherry

• Majoring in human resources services

• Wants to create more positive workplaces, especially for women

• The only mentally stable person in this goddamn school

• Student council president (thanks, chirp!)

• Ya gurl beat out both Guy and Toa, who were competing for the position and tied for runners-up

• Probably helps that she had the power of baked goods (and Grayson's supervision) on her side

Aquia

• Majoring in botany

• Works at a flower shop

• Poor boy just wants to make friends and study plants but everyone just wants to use him to get in with Guy

• Lack of familial affection go brrr

• Roc doesn't give a shit about his younger sons

• Guy is always busy and has no interest in Aquia's life

• Rahm is too busy trying to make Aquia Roc's successor to notice that he clearly doesn't want to be in politics and loves his brother too much to take his dreams

• Zev is the only one who keeps in regular contact with him, but he's more interested in telling him all about his problems with class, homework, girls, y'know, typical high school stuff. He also asks a lot about how Guy is doing before taking any interest in Aquia

• Fluent in Floriography (language of the flowers)

• Tends to the garden on the school roof at night

• Rio runs into him up there and notices how well cared for the flowers look, and also that Aquia is really sad. They are now gardening buddies

Jasper

• "Majoring" in hospitality

• Isn't actually here to further a career. Roc sent him with Guy as a spy to make sure no one is plotting to sabotage either Guy or the family as a whole

• Works at the same bar as Lance

• NOT a r**ist, and he does NOT do that shit he did in his consort route

• He just listens in on conversations while making drinks (that have NOT been drugged or spiked in any way) and serving people

• He's that one asshole that corrects people's grammar when they text him

• If you don't text like you're writing a government document he will copy your message and correct it

Violet: is anyone free on saturday. i accidentally bought an extra movie ticket and mc fenn and sherry said there all gonna be busy

Jasper: *Is anyone free on Saturday? I've accidentally bought an extra movie ticket, and MC, Fenn and Sherry said they're all going to be busy.

Jasper: I'll be available on Saturday. What movie are we seeing?

Violet: Die.

• May or may not be fucking Guy and Fenn on the side, who knows

Violet

• Majoring in fashion design

• Doesn't care for the designs you would see at a Met Gala and knows how to create things that are good looking and practical but also unique

• Also makes her own accessories

• MC is her usual model

• Met Fenn in high school

• Apparently the guy she'd been dating was two-timing her with Fenn. She was super mad at him at first, but Fenn offered to help dish out some revenge

• He's her wingman and shoulder to cry on when she gets rejected

• Regular at Lance and Jasper's bar

• She dated Jasper for a while until realized he was using a fake identity to spy on her and her friends, and she's hated his guts ever since

• The only reason she still talks to him is because they're in the same friend group as the other valets

• If Jasper corrects her grammar in the group chat one more time, she's stealing his glasses and replacing his normal pens with invisible ink pens. Then we’ll see how good his grammar is

Tino

• Majoring in hospitality

• Works part-time at his family's hotel

• He and Lynt have been best friends since childhood because their fathers are also friends and business partners

• He used to "help" Lynt with all his school work (did most of it for him). He can't really do that anymore since they’re in different majors

• Gets Lynt out of bed every morning. And makes dinner every night. And cleans the dorm. And does the dishes...

• Okay, Lynt does eventually start picking up the slack when he realizes the ungodly amount of work Tino does

• This boy has not had a full night's sleep since the 3RD GRADE

• Like bro do you need to cram every single night?

• Half the time he passes out at his desk studying. Sometimes he'll fall asleep in a common room or something, and someone has to take him back to his room

• It is because of this that Lynt has taken special interest in researching insomnia

• Has to be dragged out by the valets to take a break from doing literally everything all the time

Tino: "B-But I have to study for my skills test-"

Knight: "You mean your skills test that's 3 months away and you've been cramming for since you started the course? Dude, you need a life and you're coming to the arcade with us."

• Definitely got shoved into his locker in high school

• That's what he gets for trying to mind his own business and not bother anyone in a fucking high school

Lou

• Headmaster of the academy

• Has a Ph.D in education

• Is fully aware that he has several politicians' children in his school and that he's being spied on

• Guess what? He's spying on them, too

• He's part of a political party called Iritium and is gathering information on his competition through their children

• Guy, Toa, and Lance's rooms are bugged with microphones. He knows Christoph is living with Lance, but to avoid raising suspicion, he doesn't do anything about it yet

• He's still debating whether or not to bug Aquia's room because Dia is his roommate and he'd rather not invade his privacy

• Prank wars are common at the academy, but he has reigned as prank king since his own school years and he refuses to be dethroned

• Has two doves in his office, Phinney and Nix

• There have been many occasions where someone would pass by his office and see him having a full conversation with them

• He once argued with Phinney while MC sat right across from him. He lost

[scriboque-lego-ergo-sum]

Carnations - part 1

Beautiful, sweet, and innocent is y/n in the light of the Red Keep. But when in the shadows, she is one ruthless scheming lady in becoming and she found just the right man for her : Lord Larys Strong.

Pairing : Larys Strong × reader

Warnings : manipulation

N/A : First time putting anything out there, please enjoy and don't hesitate to remind me of anything I would have forgotten (especially in the warnings). Y/n = your name ; L/n = last name d/c = dress color ; e/c = eye color

Y/n was a young lady, sent to the Red Keep to serve the royal family, years ago. She was neither too young to marry, nor too old to not be married. She was mostly an enigma. Blessed with e/c eyes, piercing and attentive. Observant. Accompanied by a beautiful genuine smile that had been the fall of a few persons, without them knowing. In the sunlight, she was a simple lady without a distinct particularity. In the shadows, she was a scheming whisperer.

One day, as she played the perfect lady, ready to be married, Y/n had seen Lord Larys Strong speak to the Queen, in the Godswood, and heard them. She saw right through the Lord and a cunning smile made its home on her lips for brief seconds.

He was a good player, she had no doubt. Inserting fire between the young queen and the chosen heir, slowly forging himself the place of a useful ally in the shadow of Alicent Hightower. While Y/n had yet no clear allegiances but to herself, trying her powers on smaller people, Lord Larys seemed to have chosen a side. Y/n could only learn from such a master of the arts she practiced.

That's when she decided her fate. She wouldn't be married to a simple lord, a fool that would bed her for heirs, use her as a precious jewel on his neck and drink his way into an early grave, as she would likely make him do. No, in her mind, she deserved better. She didn't care for warriors, knights, rich lords, and many others that young ladies fawned over. She wanted one that would have a mind close to hers, with who she could easily speak of the gossip she heard, conceal and share their secrets, plan the rise and fall of those who thought to be well protected from fate.

She would marry that cunning lord. His father was the hand after all and he had a certain charm she could not deny. Something about his crooked form over his cane and fake soft tone reminded her of herself. They could be the key to one another. Allied, what a couple no one would threaten. It would probably grant her better protection than a brainless warrior and a better position than a rich lord.

°•○●○•°•○●○•°

Invisible among the ladies and lords enjoying the gardens during a beautiful day, she read her book in a comfortable chair but her eyes were memorizing the scene before her and her ears were intaking as much as she could, playing sweet and innocent. No one would suspect that she was a scheming little bird.

From where she was, Y/n could see Larys, a book opened in one hand while inspecting a rose. If y/n didn't know better, she could have thought he was simply learning about the delicate velvety flower before him. But gladly, she did know better.

On the other side of the well-kept bush were three Lords, amongst who one who wanted desperately to marry his son into a greater and richer house. Y/n had seen them depart as if they were taking a nice stroll but she could feel the tension emanating from two of them, probably enraptured in a scheme they had no idea what would be the consequences.

°•○●○•°•○●○•°

"Carnations. Their meaning is as beautiful as they are..."

She spoke in a sweet tone, an innocent aura dissipating from her. Lord Larys, who was playing with the named flower, raised his dark eyes towards the young lady, using his usual submissive form before answering in a tone as low as hers.

"An admirer of nature's beauty, Lady L/n?"

Y/n gave him a bigger smile as a positive answer before approaching the bush and picking a beautiful carnation to play with it between her fingers :

"Probably not as much as you, I hear, my Lord."

Larys arched slightly his brows, intrigued, putting his palms on his cane to give her his entire attention. She rotated the flower between her fingers, eyeing it, which she knew gave her a shy look. She emitted a small amused exhale before looking at him in his dark eyes and giving an answer to his curiosity with a calculated hesitation :

"I didn't... really hear about it... I simply saw you with a book about flowers... and you looked so attentive that one couldn't but notice it..."

The Lord eyed her with his mysterious eyes, without giving away anything. Although, deep down, he could feel the slight amusement and attraction that the young but calculating Lady awoke in him. He could only admit that she was good. Very good. Perhaps he would give her more attention from now on. She was a rare little thing, sweet and innocent but her eyes could be read by the ones holding the right knowledge. With guidance, she could be a mighty asset to him.

"My lady, I must say I'm not one used to capturing the attention of my peers. Especially when one sees my... disposition." While saying so, he gave a slight hit with his cane on his club foot, to reinforce his answer. "I can't help but be flattered to know I have taken your gaze away from your occupations."

Y/n lowered shyly her eyes to her fingers before putting the carnation, not without hesitation, on the tunic of the lord. Both took advantage of the closeness to detail one another. She gave him a slight smile, as shyly as she could, while the Lord followed her delicate fingers, ascending to her neck, her lips, and her eyes. He had a slight smile, one she didn't know the meaning of yet but Larys was no fool. He saw deep in her eyes that she was one smart woman. At least smart enough to approach him without fear despite her obvious knowledge of who he was. Who he truly was.

[m1d-45]

Honestly, i wanna be a little shit to your angst party and add a little ✨Sunshine✨,

Slowpoke Kaveh never joining the hunt, but having promised to be on the look out for the fake, found the fake but THE BLUE/GOLD BLOOD, remember? And since they are unconscious, i believe they are in deep sleep, which means they've lied down for a minute atleast, which is the BARE minimum amount of time for me to fall into "not waking up" state of awareness, which means = the blood is dried for the "only turns colors when dry" trope is covered.

Kaveh having a braincrash seeing the cried splatters of the blood of the creator, seeing the ruined body of the creator, is fucking on the mehrak-mekrah? Blasted names, i never remember them right. *Points to an earlier todays mishap of ominos/ominis gaunt*

-🥘Stew

you have a lovely point i failed to address about the blood. tbh i just Went for it, i was so excited to be writing for kaveh i got lost in the lore sauce 😔

and honestly, this is so much more interesting in terms of implications. kaveh begrudgingly helping the imposter because oh no, his morals! is fun, but kaveh like unintentionally becoming your #1 guard because what the fuck alhaitham, you and your matra almost killed god.

that’s not a sentence that makes sense. but i counter:

the situation from before, but as he gets closer to your body, he notices the blue staining your clothes and the grass around you. the butterflies and crystalflies, your body cradled in a bed of flowers, the foxes that leap over you from the bushes and bare their teeth, the world itself defensive over you.

if he was holding mehrak, he would have dropped it. to see his creator beat up and bleeding in the forest… no, no this wasn’t right at all.

he passes some of his berries to the foxes to appease them—meant to be a snack for the road, but he wouldn’t be traveling any further—and rushes to you, gently waving off the crystalflies so he can inspect your wounds. he does his best with what he has, but he’s only prepared for minor injuries and the smelk and sight of your blood is quickly making him nauseous.

he waves back the wildlife again, careful not to hurt the delicate butterflies or anger the foxes, and then picks you up. yes, he doesn’t live alone, no, he doesn’t know how he’s going to even get you into the city undisturbed, but he can’t leave you here. his hands shake as he walks, fingers digging into your body to ensure he doesn’t so much as get close to dropping you. mehrak floats circles around the two of you, beeping incomprehensibly, your shield of flora and fauna still intact. the trees move their roots to clear his path, stones sinking into the earth, and butterflies and birds fly around him.

it would be beautiful if his shirt wasn’t stained with your blood.

[shadowphoenixrider]

(So I maybe got a teeny tiny bit inspired by my friend @driftinglightofthewoods 's fic Floral Language and accidentally my own fic in her universe. Oops? It's fluff because apparently I haven't written enough of that. Enjoy!)

The tree boughs were heavy with their spring blossoms, the air around them equally dense with scent.

Shadow wandered among them, occasionally stopping to stand on tip-toe, pulling branches down to briefly smell the flowers before continuing on her way. She was grateful for this peace she'd found, glad that she'd managed to wriggle out of refereeing the basketball game going back on at the mansion. She might not have Drifting's powers of invisibility, but as her name suggested, she could slip away and vanish from company if she wanted to.

She paused under a tree so festooned with small white blossoms that it was if it was covered in snow, the odd petal fluttering down to rest on the forest floor. Its branches were higher above her head, stretching for the light with its other fellows, its fat knobbly trunk suggesting its great age.

How many springs had it seen? The tree was probably as old as Logan, perhaps even older. Despite her curiosity, Shadow knew better than to ask him about the past - not that he would be forthcoming anyway. She could understand that. Yet she still wondered what the tree could tell her if they could talk. Even if their interests would be widely different, Shadow wanted to know. How did a creature whose life easily stretched into the centuries perceive time compared to her, who lived in a mere fraction of that? To it she was probably no more than an elderly bug.

Completely absorbed by her thoughts, Shadow didn't notice someone was approaching until a deep, smooth voice sounded about behind her.

"So this is where ya got to, petite."

Shadow jumped, spinning around to see Gambit, hands in his pockets and that easy smirk on his face.

"Fuck, Gambit!" She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "Don't scare me like that." He chuckled, unrepentant. "Well...Yeah. You know me, I'm not one for basketball. Or sports in general." She replied, folding her arms. "Did you win?"

"Of course." Was his response, slowly walking up next to her. Shadow made a note to check that later. "Woulda been nice to see ya. Even Drifting was dere."

"Ironic that you managed to find the one mutant who you'd think would have hiding down pat," said Shadow wryly.

"Ah, but Rogue don't know ya like I do." Gambit commented, the smirk on his features widening. "Gambit found you de day of de storm, an' he found you now." He stepped a little closer. Shadow arched an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah well, I was a stationary target back then. Think you could track a moving one without Logan's nose, Cajun?"

"Dat sounds like a challenge, mon amie." His smirk turned into a grin, and he lowered his head to her. "Dere a reward if Gambit finds you?"

"The reward is finding me and getting to be smug about it." Shadow replied, flicking his nose. "I didn't come out here for cat and mouse games anyway. I needed some calm."

Gambit pulled back, his ardour immediately cooling. His gaze flicked up the tree towering above them, a slight wisp of wind knocking a drizzle of petals to tumble to the floor.

"Beautiful time o' year." He murmured softly. "Few times dat make me miss New Orleans."

Shadow glanced over to him.

"How so?" She quietly asked.

"Springtime be beautiful even down in de bayou, chère." He explained gently. "Dese big pink flowers from de bushes and trees, dere be so much colour..." His gaze was far away, in another lifetime.

"You ever want to go back someday?" She ventured.

Gambit's face fell and for a moment, she saw indecision flicker across his features, just before a mask slipped over the top.

"No. Gambit can't go back, even if he want to," he said. "Not dat he want too. Too much bad blood." He turned to her, that knowing smirk on his face, for once completely fake. "'Sides, Gambit got de X-men an' you now, non?"

Shadow nodded.

"I can understand that," she said, smiling softly. "Sometimes it's just best to push forward, right? Find joy in the blossoms of other places."

Gambit watched her for a moment, his face unreadable. Then, a small smile tugged at his lips.

"Yeah, could say that, petite." He agreed, his eyes following her gaze back to the tree she was looking up at. "Any reason ya picked dis one?"

"Oh! No real reason." Shadow smiled shyly. "Just...thinking. And admiring it."

"Certainly be a pretty one." Gambit agreed, stepping closer to it. "Ya like de white ones?"

"I don't mind pink or white." Shadow replied, watching the Cajun eyeing the flowers above them. "I've always preferred the white ones, though. I guess I think the pink can look a bit sickly sweet, if you know what I mean?"

"Too much?" He suggested, glancing back at her.

"A little, yeah. I mean, I do love cherry blossoms, that light pink colour, but some can get too vivid for me..." She chuckled ruefully. "Not that these flowers are grown for me anyway."

"Jus' cos dey be for bees don't mean you can't have an opinion on dem." Gambit spoke, raising up on his feet to grasp one of the heavily laden branches, gently pulling it down with him. "Hey chère, c'mere," he said softly.

Shadow moved over to his side, gently taking hold of the branch full of small white flowers, their petals rounded, no bigger than her thumbnail. Leaning forward, she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. The blossoms were sweet smelling, yet not overpowering, despite their density. They reminded her of the pretty blackthorn blooms of her childhood, such sweet flowers for such a fiercesome thorny bush. That could also be said of several mutants of the X-Mansion...

When her eyes flickered back open, she saw Gambit watching her, a fond smile on his face and a softness to his red and black eyes that made her heart skip a beat. He was already a good-looking man, but framed by the flowers of the branch he was holding - he was beautiful.

"Had ya fill, Shadow?" Gambit asked, his deep voice soft and tender.

"Yeah, thank you." She smiled back at him.

He carefully released his grip, the branch springing back up into the crown with a hissing rustle. In so doing, it shook a large number of petals free, and they showered down onto the pair below.

"Oh hey Cajun, looks like you got a few little somethings on you." Shadow giggled, reaching up to sweep them off Gambit's broad shoulders.

"Could say de same for you too, mon amie!" He grinned, doing the same for her.

He reached up to brush them from her hair, before he hesitated, hand frozen in the air over her cheek.

"May I?" He asked, softly.

Shadow nodded slightly.

"Yeah, of course."

Even with permission, Gambit delicately plucked each petal free of her curls, dropping them to the side to fall around her. When he was done, his hand remained, hovering by the side of her head as if he couldn't bring himself to pull away.

Gambit gently reached forward, brushing back some of Shadow's hair that was trying to fall into her eyes with his finger. When his hand lingered, she leaned into it, letting their skin touch. His eyes widened, his hand jerking with the instinctive need to pull away, but he overcame it, opening it up to cup her cheek.

Most of his large hand was clad in black fingerless gloves, but his touch was gentle, calloused fingertips grazing over soft pale skin. Shadow gazed up into his dark eyes, wide in wonder and surprise, before they softened, a look in them that filled her with warmth from the core of her chest to the tips of her toes.

Gambit stepped closer, lowering his head towards her. Shadow moved closer too, tilting her chin up to meet the Cajun, reaching up to cup the back of his neck. There was a heartbeat, maybe two, where they were so close the tips of their noses nearly brushed.

And then they leaned in, pressing their lips together.

Time stopped, for a moment. The outside world fell away; in these seconds that felt like minutes, all that mattered was just them, together.

An indeterminate about of seconds later, they pulled away, eyes flickering open. Charcoal black with crimson red met bone white and teal blue, gazing deeply into one another, both a little stunned by what had just happened.

Shadow smiled shyly, an answering smile growing across Gambit's lips as well.

Suddenly the sound of someone clearing their throat sounded out, and the pair recoiled from one other. They whipped their heads around to see Drifting standing there, her arms folded, alongside Nightcrawler, a mischievous grin playing on his dark, furry face.

"'Just friends', huh?" Drifting said, arching an eyebrow. Shadow blushed bright red, glancing away from the equally awkward blushing Cajun, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So this is where you got to, Shadow." Nightcrawler spoke. "Perhaps Rogue should check the forest for you first next time."

"I coulda told ya that." Gambit grumbled, trying to regain some sort of initiative.

This was not to be when Nightcrawler grinned widely, poofing right next to Gambit's side in a flash of purple smoke.

"Ah, of course mein freund! I have heard of your expertise in tracking her down!" He leant against Gambit's shoulder, fixing the pouting Cajun with his golden eyes. "It makes sense for a man of your profession to be familiar with shadows, after all."

"I-Is there a reason you guys came out here?" Shadow stuttered, trying to find her composure.

"We have Danger Room simulations in half an hour." Drifting replied flatly. "Remember?"

"Oh, shit!" Shadow cursed, stepping over to her. "Sorry Drifting, it completely slipped my mind!"

"I wonder why." Drifting smirked, her green eyes flicking briefly over to Gambit.

"Allow me to help you both get back to the mansion." Nightcrawler smiled, appearing next to the two women. He glanced over his shoulder. "Are you coming with us, Gambit?"

"Ah, I'll take de scenic route." He replied, looking away from them. "Gambit got a lot to think about."

"I'm sure you do." Commented Drifting, resulting in Gambit grumbling something under his breath, and Shadow rolling her eyes.

"We will see you soon!" Nightcrawler said, and in a blast of purple smoke, the trio was gone.

Gambit groaned, resting his forehead against the tree's trunk.

He wasn't going to live this down any time soon...