#he doesn't know how to sit like a normal person just like how he doesn't know how to be normal overall

[boyfhee]

✶ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY !

jealously looks good on them

pairing enhypen x reader / fem reader in hoon's genre fluff warnings kissing in jake's, ignore the typos pleek notes happy reading ^^ requested

HEESEUNG

you know he's the jealous type just three days after dating him. it's in a fun way— of course. despite being the jealous type he doesn't overdo it ( or at least tries not to. ) you're gushing about your favourite character from a show or a celebrity you like and he's sulking on the inside.

“byeon wooseok is hot but not hotter than me. right, darling?” he would ask the moment he catches you watching the edits of the actor on tiktok. with eyes fixed on you, his lips morph more and more into a pout when you take more than a few seconds to respond. “i can't believe this,”

you watch him sit on the far end of the couch, away from you, refusing to spare you a glance even though you know his attention is on you. “c’mon hee, are you jealous of an actor? he doesn't even know me,”

“well, good for me because with how pretty you are, he will definitely fall for you if he gets to know you,” he replies through a frown, eyeing you through his peripheral gaze, arms crossed. it only makes you laugh at how cute he can be sometimes.

“and i'm in love with you so it doesn't matter,” and he's back to normal, crawling to your side and wrapping his arms around you. you just have to remind him that every time jealousy gets the best of him, even though he already knows it; but he likes to hear you say it. 

JONGSEONG

jay thought it would be cute to ask you out on a little convenience store date until your neighbour's son crashes it. well, not literally since he only happened to be there at the store. however, despite all, being the person he is, he doesn't think much of it.

that is until that guy decides to follow you around throughout the time you two shop. even when you two make it to the counter, he's next to you, talking to you and you're responding nicely, considering he's your neighbour.

“um, we're dating,” he says with an awkward smile when that guy asks if you're single. and jay has always been patient but he grabs the shopping bags and your hand, and walks out of the store with the speed of light.

“you can let go of my hand,” you laugh at the look of pure jealousy on his face. it's not really obvious, but you can see it. you've known him long enough to know how he is when he's jealous.

“nope,” he shakes his head, lacing his fingers with your own while you two are walking back to his place. “not until we're home,”

JAEYUN

he thinks he's being subtle about it but you don't miss the way he keeps scooting closer while you're texting a friend. he's not trying to peek, he's trying to get your attention.

“who even have you been texting for so long?” he asks after a few seconds, sitting lazily next to you on the bed with a faint pout residing on his lips.

“my friend. it's her birthday soon and she wants me to go shopping with her,” you don't even look up at him as you respond, smiling at your phone screen. he stares at you for a brief second before laying down with a slight whine.

“you're leaving me,” his words reach your ears and you turn your head towards him, brows furrowed. “i need to die,”

and the ‘j’ in jake stands for jealousy, it was never a secret. however, you didn't expect him to act like this right now. “jake, it's not that serious,”

“it’s four in the evening and not a single kiss today,” he sits up and says with a dramatic gasp— eyes wide open as if the situation is oh so scandalous. he sighs, putting a hand on his chest, shaking his head. “i'm afraid this is my last day. any last words?”

and you chuckle, putting your phone away before scooting closer to him and cupping his face, pressing his lips against his. “you're so dramatic,” 

SUNGHOON

sunghoon was all up for an evening stroll around the campus after classes but definitely didn't appreciate the transfer student from your class ruin this little date.

subtle glares and his fingers intertwined with yours, and yet that guy couldn't catch a hint. sunghoon knows he's hitting on you, perhaps you do too but knowing how nice you are, you can't be rude when all that guy is doing is complimenting you. so, he'll do it for you— sunghoon is going to eat him up.

"i know, right? my girlfriend is the prettiest girl on earth. and guess what? she's smart as hell— i love my girl. oh you want her number? well, she's mine," all in one breath, followed by an awkward silence and sunghoon's prideful smile. "now, me and my girl have somewhere to be so if you'll excuse us,"

he doesn't even give a chance for your classmate to speak, walking away while bringing you along with him. as funny at it is, you know he wasn't taking any of it.

"was all that necessary?" you ask, fingers still laced with his as you two walked down towards an ice cream parlour.

"what's necessary is for us to get married," he says it in the most casual way, getting you your favourite ice cream flavour and handing it too you. "too many guys looking at you. i can't take the risk,"

SUNOO

"i thought you're no longer in touch with him," sunoo says quietly when you bid your goodbyes to your friend, holding your hand as you two walk back to your class together.

"yeah, but we're classmates so it was unavoidable," you respond with a smile, looking up at him. it only takes you a fraction of the second to notice the troubles expression on his face, behind the smile. "what's wrong?"

your boyfriend shakes his head, the smile getting wider but it's only an attempt to throw you off the topic. "nothing,"

"sunoo," you stand in his way, hands on your waist, looking at him with a cheeky grin. it's not often you catch sunoo with such an expression. "are you jealous?"

"i'm not!" he quickly defends himself, eyes going wide and cheeks heating up out of embarrassment. however he sighs, giving up the very next second. "well, maybe a little. he's your ex after all,"

"he was my friend before we started dating," and you couldn't help but chortle at his actions, nodding as you get back to holding his hand, this time a bit more firmly than earlier. "besides, i have you now,"

"right," he couldn't help but smile at your words and pulls you a bit closer to him, speaking with a triumphant grin. "you're too good for him anyway,"

JUNGWON

jungwon has been watching you for fifteen minutes now, laying on the bed, eyes squinted at you. "do you remember you have a boyfriend?"

"of course, i do. why would i forget that?" you furrow your brows at his question, looking up at him briefly before looking back at your boyfriend's pet dog.

"i don't know, seems like you did," he sighs, getting off the bed and sitting next to you on the floor, looking at his pet dog. "i called you over to spend time with you. not to watch you play with maeumi,"

and you laugh, caressing maeumi in your lap while looking at your boyfriend with a teasing grin. "i can't believe you're jealous of your own dog,"

"and what if i am?"

"it's a bit silly," you nod, the smile never leaving your face. "it's cute," his eyes follow your actions as you lean down to plant a soft kiss on maeumi's head and then lifting him up slightly. "but can you really ignore this cutie?"

and that was the end of his patience. jungwon gets up, picking maeumi before putting him away in the living room. "yeah, he's going up for adoption,"

"jungwon!"

RIKI

"he's so ugly," riki comments bitterly as you walk out of your class, eyeing one of the classmates you've been talking to while he was waiting for you in the hallways. "what a creature,"

"creature?" you repeat his words in disbelief, even though it's not really unusual for him to say that. "riki, that's my classmate. he was giving me yesterday's notes,"

"yeah, he's still ugly," he shakes his head, scoffing, grabbing one of your hands while sliding the other in the pocket of his pants.

you simply laugh at his words as you both get downstairs, a few students passing by you two, rushing towards the school exit. "you look stupid when you're jealous,"

"jealous? me?" he scoffs yet again, a prideful grin on his face as he stops in his tracks, looking at you. "you have quite an imagination,"

"what i have is a jealous boyfriend who sucks at lying,"

and who even is he kidding, because both of you know he's the more jealous one between the two of you. about the lying part. . .he's not too sure. "well, at least i look better than him, don't i?"

you nod, tip toeing slightly to kiss his cheeks, still holding his hands in the process. "the best,"

[writerfae]

So I read The brooch from the possible future au (this is why it was on my mind when you made that post about Cyrus) and I loved it😭 It hurt, but it was also heartfelt and beautiful and I got really emotional from it so sorry in advance if this rant sounds a little silly.

It was somehow so comforting despite being so tragic.

First of all at the beginning they're just sitting there, being content❤️ (you know I love characters just sitting around (or if you didn't, now you do!)

"Sometimes Aiden still couldn’t believe that this was real. That this was his. He never wanted Talon to stop looking at him like that. "

This says exactly what needs to be said!

Also, I love how much Talon's smiling in this (in the beggining of it)

"Too valuable for someone like me, he thought, but didn’t say it, because he knew Talon didn’t like it when he talked like this."

I don't like it when you talk like this! But it's so cute because it implies that Talon and Aiden did have talks about this!

"Wherever you are, my heart is with you"❤️😭

Now, you probably expect me to scream at you for the second part, but I won't because like I said it is somehow still heartwarming for me.

See, now I want to start quoting again, but then I'd put nearly the whole thing here, so I'll say this:

Every word describes the whole situation so perfectly. It feels like there's not a word out of place, like they are all emphasizing a point that I think isn't really the tragedy, but the love they have for each other.

I also love how much affection Talon is initiating here, trying to comfort both of them.

The fact that Aiden tries to give back the brooch. The fact that Talon doesn't let him, and that THIS comforts Aiden somewhat.

But I do have to quote my favorite part!

"A small sob escaped him as Aiden held out a small object to him, hands trembling. “I think… I think you might want it back. Give it to… give it to her.”

And the last part... it was so hard seeing Aiden like that so I won't go into much detail here. He reminded me of Milan a little.

And if you'll indulge me I would like to go on a little rant about my story and angst:

I don't know if I emphasize this enough but I NEED you to know this:

All the (canon) Ákos angst comes with the inevitable end of Ákos ending up all right. With someone comforting him, helping him, or him realizing that it's okay. Otherwise, I wouldn't do it to him.

You see, the thing is that Ákos is an incredibly strong person. More importantly he has people around him to support him (his parents and siblings).

The reason I talk so much about post story Ákos angst is because aside from those small things that fade with time Ákos goes back to being normal and happy!

He goes back to following Endre around everywhere.

He goes back to exploring the castle a houndred times with Moss.

He goes back to reading in Adél's room.

And when he's not able to do something that he used to be able to do, when he's scared, there's always someone to help him through it.

There's this moment in this holiday special thing (THAT I SWEAR I'LL BE SO SAD IF I CAN'T WRITE THIS YEAR) where they're walking in the winter woods and he wants to run off and look around, but he's a little scared, and Adél notices and follows two steps behind him so he doesn't have to worry. And then, after a while, he doesn't enen need Adél to do this.

Whenever he's having a problem, there's always at least one of his siblings to swoop in and help.

And like I said he's not always having problems!

Also this goes without saying but he will realize that it wasn't his fault.

Most importantly Ákos didn't lose his curiosity which in my opinion would have been the most tragic thing that could have happened (it happens in the villain Adél au). Sure he becomes a little more cautious (especially at first) but no less confident.

I might have mentioned this already but Ákos has always been interested in the Black swamp. And he didn't let what happened to him ruin this.

When he grows up, he will (probably, the specifics of this may change) research history with a special emphasis on the Black swamp, and he'll love it.

Ákos took this horrible experience that he had and made something positive out of it. Something that interests him, something that makes him happy (that down the line even ends up helping others).

Ákos' strength comes from two places:

One is that that's just what he's like

But more importantly because he was influenced by each of his siblings. He has a little bit of each of them in him, plus his own stuff!❤️

I hope you didn't mind this little rant🙈 I was just hoping that knowing this about Ákos gives you at least some fuzziness even if it is bittersweet like the ones I got from reading your short story.

I finally got around to answer this! Thanks so much for your patience 😌

I’m feeling really flattered that you liked The Brooch so much you wrote this ask!

Though I know the possible future au is a very painful one for us Taiden stans, it is really dear to me. And I loved writing this short story for it in particular! Both part one and two!

Part one really is mostly hurt, but it has lots of comfort in it too. I wanted to make the meaning of the brooch for both of them clear. I think I managed that quite well and to be honest, I did tear up a bit while writing the breakup part and the one where Aiden told Ash…

Also you’re not wrong, Aiden in the last bit is a bit like Milan, which is sad if you consider that it’s pretty much what Aiden always feared.

You’re always welcome to rant a little about your story to me!

You really don’t need to justify your Ákos angst to me. I know I complain about it (in a very fond way btw, never in the negative sense), but this is your story and you can do whatever you want! And don���t worry, I’m very aware that Ákos will be alright in the end. And I’m really glad about it ^^

And it’s great his siblings will help him through it all. That’s one of the best things about stories like yours!

(I’m very glad my boy Ákos will be alright in the end btw!)

[firstpooher]

WHAT HAPPENED

fans of poohpavel calling change2561 (poohpavel label) for "Sasaeng" or fan groups whose behavior violates the artist's privacy. Whether it's awaiting under buildings, stalking and harassing the artist.

first i wanna start speaking with there is a difference between a fan who likes to see their artisit and give them gifts as a token of their loving and an obsessive stalker who goes everywhere they go know their loactions, when they fly to other countries brag about having people stalk them and report to them .its so sick and they are so proud about what they do they see nth wrong in it them and their cult followers its so immature and very unrespectful and its risky to just let them around with no rules

Close to the assault, the label remained silent and did not take any action, even though the consequences could mean the safety of the artists. we can see how uncomfy he is in the videos and pics pavel was very uncomfy and the way they kept following him around like some exotic animal, when it was no event or nth it was part of his personal life.

There was an incident where an artist was attacked by someone in the event, who could not be known if he was a fan or not. But even then, change didnt not take any legal action and they didnt state any rules to be around their artist

( vid here)

Artists are stalked to educational institutions and other public places and pressured to interact, inevitably without the consent of their own decisions. they stalk them like i think they stalked pavel into a supermarket and one even took a private vid of pooh while he was having food in his uni cafe

(this includes a vid of a stalker following pooh and he was so uncomfortable he took wtv they gave him and left quickly)

at the same time Fans who follow all the rules are excluded. Change chose to open the door to welcome Sasaeng in instead. Compare that to when a fan was rushed by staff at a fan meeting, Sasaeng stood for hours with his camera at the artist.

this girl she took the same flight as them she sat next to them and yet no one said anything i could literally feel how uncomfy they was but they couldnt do anything

god just the way she is looking at him

It also deals with the security of artists' personal information. Who told the flight to Sasaeng? How do those people know? they just follow them around and invade their privacy.

in here the vid pavel looked so uncomfy with them following him and he even ran to get away yet they ran after him and let me remind you he had no security or bodyguards here

again following him from one place to the other and running after him with no security or anyone protecting him

In each photo that Sasaeng released, pooh didn't even seem to know that he was being secretly filmed (there are clips of him sitting in the car and the faces of his friends attached).

Schools should be the safest spaces.

It's wrong since I followed the artist at the airport, and I didn't look at the context and expression on his face. Keep calling it a joke. The younger one doesn't look to bump into others, who will be responsible?

its wrong to follow them in the airports okay but what kind of person write those type of questions and asking him that so causally i can imagiene the discomfort also he was pushing his baggage yet there here was so uncomfy.

the vid of this here its so sickening

(look guys i personally know the girl from the one i never thought she would do such a thing)

okay now not just them following them around when they with their family too also apart from this being zoomed the person who took it was super close to his mom pavel was yet again very uncomfortable and he kept looking at the person who was filming his mom

last one god this is totally invading his private space he was normally eating with his friend in uni and this person took video of him and not just that when he looked at the person filming him they quickly closed it and he was so uncomfy after

vids and pics and some context taken from my amazing ruby

[ryin-silverfish]

LMK S5 trailer, Chinese pantheon infodump, and some ideas

…Man, normally, I feel the urge to write fix-it AUs after rewatching episodes and coming across particularly bizarre theories and takes, not before the new season's even out.

Thanks, S5 trailer.

Consider this your spoiler warning, because the rest of this post will all be my personal opinions about a few major story beats that were revealed + the rough outline for a fix-it AU.

It's also a bit ranty, and features some criticisms of the general narrative, so if that's not your cup of tea, feel free to avoid this one.

Li Jing becoming JE/the regent of the Celestial Realm is just hilariously absurd. I mean, it makes a teeny tiny bit more sense than the "Nezha will be the new JE" fan theory, but that's not a very high bar.

1) In-universe, he had done a grand total of nothing while shit was hitting the fan, and only showed up after it was all over. Which, tbh, isn't too far from his role in FSYY. No, wait, at least in FSYY, he killed Luo Xuan via a pagoda to the head, after the guy had all his fire-based magical treasures neutralized and taken away by Princess Longji.

Yeah, congrats, LMK's Li Jing, you've somehow become even more useless than your FSYY and JTTW counterparts——which is a true feat.

2) Even if someone's making him JE/regent, it wouldn't be the Ten Kings. To put it simply: the Underworld doesn't have that authority. They are the most pathetic of all divine bureaucracies, who pretty much only show up to get pushed around and revive the occasional dead guy in JTTW (and I still love them).

Like, they ain't no Hades or Satan. Just the 10 judges of the Dead People Supreme Court. To heavily paraphrase Di Ting in the original JTTW novel:

"How much power do Underworld gods really have? (幽冥之神，能有多少法力)" "...Certainly not enough to stop a rampaging demonic macaque who's as strong as SWK, if I say the truth out loud in here and piss him off. Just send them to the Buddha, please."

An analogy: if the Celestial Host is the imperial court, the Underworld is the ministry in charge of judicial processes and prisons. They don't even have authority over the imperial censors who answer directly to the emperor, let alone the power to determine a successor to the throne during a major crisis.

If this was to make the tiniest bit of sense, Li Jing would be the one commanding THEM, not the other way around. Or if it's Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha himself giving orders to Li Jing…for some reason.

But we know that ain't happening bc of the show's strange aversion to showing Buddhist deities on screen, not to mention it would be very OOC for Ksitigarbha, whose job is granting relief and salvation to souls in the Path of Hell, not judging and punishing them like the Ten Kings.

3) If you must make Li Jing the emperor/regent, you have a more mythos-accurate and obvious choice than the Ten Kings, considering you already got the Four Divine Beasts involved!

Yes, I'm talking about their bosses, the humanoid "directional + elemental gods": Lord Father of the East (Wood), Queen Mother of the West (Metal), Emperor Zhenwu of the North (Water).

No South though...because our mythos can't agree on a single directional god of the South, but for shit and giggles, just imagine Zhurong, Yandi, Huaguang, and the Star of Fiery Virtues all sitting on the same narrow bench, staring awkwardly at each other.

Maybe we can have Ziwei, Great Emperor of the Central Sky and North Stars, who is one of the Four Sovereigns(四御) in Daoism (two of which could also be an alternate choice, but maybe a bit too obscure for foreign audiences).

He commands the stellar deities and heavenly bodies——which the Four Divine Beasts would technically fall under, as guardians of the four quadrants of the sky, each in charge of 7 Lunar Mansions.

4) But if you already have these deities, why the hell would any of them make Li Jing the regent? Wouldn't it be more likely for them to create a Celestial Council of Regents themselves, with Devaraja Li Jing under their command as the leader of what's left of the celestial army?

Like, you can still have them, or one of them, going after the gang and ordering Li Jing to put the fillet on SWK.

I can see Zhenwu the Demon-Vanquisher doing that, since the fillet isn't too different from what he did to Huaguang and a lot of the demons he subdued in JTTN: feeding them magical water/fire pills that would corrode/ignite their insides whenever they tried to resist.

(Yeah, compared to that, the fillet would look like the lenient option, since it's just pain and won't actually dissolve/cook you alive from the inside out...)

And it wouldn't be bc he thought SWK was to blame for the Brotherhood's epic fuck-up...somehow. Like, what even is that logic?!

I mean, I can kinda see the Ten Kings doing it as a pre-emptive "Don't blame us for our shitty security, blame that guy over there!" move...except they are no longer answering to any higher authorities who'd hold them responsible at that point!

"What about Li Jing?" You may ask. Yeah, WHAT ABOUT LI JING? Why does Li Jing have to get involved in this?

If he's forcing the Ten Kings to pass judgement on the gang (which surely doesn't look like it in the trailers), why's he enlisting the help of the weakest faction and not, y'know, his celestial soldiers and other gods?

If the Ten Kings get Li Jing to be their enforcer...well, how the Eighteen Hells did they manage that? What could the Ghost Supreme Court and their crappy prison-torture chamber-soul customs office complex even offer Li Jing as a bribe?

And if their goals were to avoid responsibilities by blaming someone else, how stupid did they have to be to actively involve/create a higher authority who can punish them once the cat gets out of the proverbial bag, instead of, I dunno, just stay where they are and keep their head down???

So in my fix-it AU, it's more of a "Better safe than sorry" scenario, where every demon working for the new Celestial Council must prove their loyalty via swallowing the water/fire pill, now that even more dangerous demons have escaped and are running around in the aftermath of S4.

And Great Sage and company are not exempt from that new law either——"If you are truly righteous and Not Like Them and not planning to rebel, what's there to be afraid of?"

Horrified by the Demon-Vanquishing Mansion's 16th century standards of "justice" and "mercy", they naturally would not have any of it, and thus the conflict begins.

Not only would this show the fallout of Azure's misguided rebellion——that, in trying to make a better world, he had made it 120% worse for both humanity and demonkind in less drastic and more realistic ways aside from dooming reality to irreversible destruction, it would also help with the major show-not-tell problem about Celestial cruelty bc the "good guys" in power saw no problem with this kind of shit.

If you want your lawful antagonists who take Order to its extremes, the warrior sovereign in black leading an elite army of demon-hunters + penal legions made of "reformed" demons would be a better choice than the Ghost Supreme Court, don't ya think?

(Fun fact: in Zaju plays, Zhenwu was often said to be the boss of Nezha and Erlang, so him commanding Li Jing wouldn't be too out of place either.)

Now, you may ask, why do I even care? After all, isn't it clear that the show is neither mythos-accurate nor trying to be, considering the JE got K.O.ed by a Bodhisattva's cat of all things?

Not to mention the season's not even out yet, so why jump to conclusions so quickly? Maybe the actual episodes will have explanations that make sense. Relax.

...Cause I don't mind less-than-stellar animations if the story's good, and since I keep noticing the less-than-stellar animations, it clearly isn't good enough.

Also, it's not like it's only the implications that are absurd——my problem is with the whole premise of "Li Jing becoming the new JE/Regent" and "The gang is prosecuted by the Ten Kings for bullshit reasons, even though these guys should not, and never have the power to enforce anything over SWK."

I don't like calling narrative choices "wrong" per se, and prefer to see it on a gradient of "least to most narrative potential". When it comes to adaptations, if the option that is faithful to the original work will result in a less interesting story, then I'll happily take the one that isn't as faithful and takes creative liberties, but makes a better story.

And here, I feel like being faithful to the Chinese mythos inspirations will add to the narrative potential instead of subtract from it, and the idea they come up with kinda...goes against how Chinese pantheons work, in a very simplified and "westernized" manner.

Mostly bc I am a Chinese Underworld mythos lover and think they deserve better than being ominous Hades/Grim Reaper knockoffs. And out of all the possible Chinese gods, Nezha's asshole dad is the least qualified or interesting candidate to fill in the power vaccum left by JE's death.

[goose-duck]

💚Lloyd is probably mildly disturbing to talk to💚

Lego Ninjago Lloyd headcanon

~~~~~~

"if there were no consequences I'd probably kill someone" Lloyd spoke casually, sitting in the living room, scrolling through his phone. Jay was the only other person in the room, he knew Lloyd was talking to him and he felt confused, disturbed even.

"uh...what..?" Jay said worriedly.

"you heard me" Lloyd responded, not looking up from his phone.

Jay shut his phone off, setting it on his lap and looking at Lloyd, giving him a worried yet serious look. "Lloyd..." he starts as calmly as he can, "everything okay, buddy..?"

Lloyd scoffs, laughing under his breath after, "yeah, why do you ask?" He says it as if he's not aware of how bad 'if there were no consequences I'd probably kill someone' sounds.

Jay sighs, realizing Lloyd doesn't think much of what he said, "you know most people wouldn't do that, right?" Jay is visibly getting a little anxious about this conversation, waiting for Lloyd's response.

"oh yeah, I know, but I would." Lloyd laughs a little while speaking, he says it like it's obvious, like Jay should have already known he felt this way.

Jay's voice shakes as he speaks, "why..?" He barely whimpers the word out, finding this conversation awkward and worrisome.

Lloyd once again answers, sounding less casual, more menacing, peaking up from his phone to look Jay in the eyes, "because people really piss me off sometimes, y'know?" He says with a smirk plastered on his face, his green eyes showing an intensity in them that makes Jay avert his gaze.

"yeah...i know..." the words stumble out of Jay's mouth, he's nervous, he no longer wants to be having this conversation, however he continues to speak, "but isn't killing a bit extreme?" He speaks nervously, peaking at Lloyd through the corner of his eye.

"I don't think so." Lloyd says with more confidence than Jay was comfortable with, making an effort to make his more relaxed yet threatening facial expression seen by Jay.

Jay notices this and decides it's time to leave. He quickly stands up and leaves the room, letting out a quick "bye" before exiting and making his way down the hall.

Lloyd just shrugs to himself, returning his gaze to his phone and continuing about his afternoon as normal.

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Shun the Light Ch. 5 - Hunger

Slow Burn | Refuge | Decision | Mend |

Author's Notes: Some vampire POV! His name is Dante now.

I just realized Dante doesn't know what Matteo is. Gonna have some fun with that later.

Content Warnings: vampire whumpee, werewolf whumpee, burns, exhaustion, hypnosis, self sacrifcie, touch starvation, angst

----

That last drink, a proper drink straight from the vein, gives the vampire the strength to sit up and lean back against the wall.

The raw new skin on his chest is still pink and tender. Dante winces when he touches it. The agony of burning is still fresh in his memory.

Night has fallen. Dante wonders if he would be dead by now if this stranger hadn't, inexplicably, rescued him. Would the setting sun have ended his suffering, or only increased it? Over the years he has tested the limits of his immortality in small ways, but never with sunlight. He shudders at the thought of how many days it might have taken for his body to succumb.

"You should have killed me," he mumbles. "It would have been simpler."

"No...it wouldn't."

Dante startles. He wasn't expecting an answer from the crumpled figure. When he looks down he meets a pair of tired eyes, golden brown like honey.

Too much happened over the past day. It's more than Dante can process in his current state, and so he finds himself simply fixated on there being a living, breathing person here for the first time in decades.

Dante is so used to stillness in the large, empty house and his cold, undead body. The stranger, on the other hand, is so very alive - warm and restless, with labored breathing and a beating heart.

"Why did you come here?" Dante wonders quietly. "What do you want?"

Why did you save me? Don't you know what I am?

"A bed would be nice." The other man stretches, groaning when his joints pop and crack. "I'd settle for a couch. Anything." He looks worn down and absolutely miserable.

Dante wasn't expecting an answer. It's so casual, as if the situation they find themselves in together is completely normal. At a loss for what else to do or say, he simply nods.

I guess it's the least I can do.

Standing takes a moment but he manages. His visitor is less successful, getting halfway there before mumbling 'nope' and dropping to his knees.

Even after all these years of solitude certain instincts remain. Without a thought, Dante offers a hand to help him up.

It doesn't cross his mind that he hasn't touched a human being in almost fifty years - when he was still human himself.

A hand slips into his. Dante can feel the pulse thrumming beneath warm skin. His fangs throb with need. I wouldn't even kill him. Just another drink. It would be so easy...

The man must see the hunger in his gaze, and must know equally well that he wouldn't stand a chance. Conflicting emotions cross his face before resignation sets in.

Dante's eyes gleam silver in the dark.

"Stand up."

The man stands on command, shaking from the effort. Dante keeps hold of his hand to help him stay upright. The man closes his eyes and tips his head a little, baring his throat.

Suddenly all Dante can see is a sharpened stake held tight in a fist. He, too, had given in and presented himself like a lamb for slaughter, only to be 'spared' in the cruelest way.

"Look at me."

These words are spoken plainly, without mesmerism. Yet the man obeys it too, cautiously meeting the vampire's eyes.

"I won't hurt you," Dante promises. It's a promise he doesn't even know if he can keep, but the man seems to believe him.

Their hands are still locked. Now that the hunger has passed Dante is left with the old, new, strange, familiar sensation of human touch.

The man clears his throat and pulls his hand away. Dante feels colder than ever.

"Follow me." He turns and leads the way to the bedroom next door. His rescuer follows, leaning on the wall for support.

"I - I can sleep here?"

The man looks like he might cry when he sees the large, plush bed with its old but well-kept bedding. He staggers towards it but then hesitates to look back at Dante like he's afraid it might be a trick. He looks like he needs a good night's rest as desperately as Dante needs blood, and he can't think of many things more cruel than denying him that.

"Yes. Go ahead."

With a breathless "thank you", the man collapses heavily onto the bed. He doesn't even bother to get under the covers before he's out cold.

Dante stands there and just watches him for several minutes. He takes in every bit of him, every hair and freckle, every cut, bruise and scar. Each rise and fall of his back as he breathes is mesmerizing to the vampire, a steady rhythm that whispers alive, alive, alive.

And just for a moment he could swear his long dead heart is aching.

[danieyells]

How Much Is An SSR Worth?

Summary: Ren gets Taiga's help. SFW.

----

The Sinostra students looked up at the approaching stranger. Their looks were clearly unfriendly, untrustworthy, and some of them even reached in their blazers as if for weapons(were they allowed to walk around campus armed!?) Ren froze and grit his teeth, looking at the little group of gangsters and at the blood red mop of hair of their leader who didn't even turn around to acknowledge him. He was starting to regret thinking this could work--there was no way this was worth it.

Before he could start to back away, the Captain of the Sinsotra house tipped his head further back, directing a pair of bright yellow eyes at him from where they'd been staring emptily into the ceiling. Ren froze. The slow blink he received reminded him of a cat video he'd seen online, albeit significantly less cute and even less likely to be a sign of affection.

". . .who're you?"

Ren briefly felt like he'd been transported into a mafia movie. It was the gravel in his voice, or maybe the cold look in his eyes.

He floundered for a bit, trying to come up with a way to bring up why he came over that didn't sound ludicrous to a normie. Just looking at this guy, he wouldn't know a thing about what he was talking about or needed--but he knew he might be his only hope right now. Maybe Taiga caught on to that hopelessness, or maybe he was amused by the fumbling, because his dull expression became a curious and interested one.

"Oh. Ain't you one of Harry's kids?" Harry? Did Haru know this guy!? Somehow that made it worse. Taiga spun around in his seat to look at Ren properly, his excited expression showing off his shark-like teeth. Those might be cool, if not for that he followed this question up with, "you here to bring me my lunch?"

"Your lunch?"

"Yeah. One of my guys promised me he'd get me something to eat." Taiga gave a sideways nod to the Sinostra students who were sitting with him. "And Harry's place is full of all that fresh meat, ain't it? You ain't here to deliver anything for me?"

"Fresh--" He wanted to eat the anomalies? Was anybody in this place normal? "N-no, I'm not here to bring you anything!"

"Oh." Taiga deflated and pouted. "So, who the fuck are you then? You got a debt to pay? Lulu doesn't like me doing business outside the casino without him around, but I can still handle that."

This was definitely starting to feel like Ren was in over his head.

"I just. I heard some things."

"Oooh." Taiga, once again, thinks he's got it and smiles. "You need a loan? You want some illicit goods? You want somebody to turn up in Tokyo Bay?"

"What!? No!! Are you seriously saying all that shit in broad daylight!?"

"Maybe I'm not serious about it at all!" Taiga laughed, seeming amused by Ren's increasing discomfort.

"I don't need things from Sinostra! I heard some things about you! I need something from you!"

Taiga was quiet for a moment, head tilted and eyes wide like he wasn't expecting personal business. Then he pouted again, looking off to the side. "Is Lulu trying to. . .nah, he wouldn't do that. Not without tellin' me. . .selling someone's organs would be a lot more lucrative than whoring me out anyway." He muttered to himself for a moment, while Ren fished his phone out of his pocket and thrust it towards him.

He immediately jumped back as the Sinostra students drew weapons to point at him. Taiga held up a hand to stop them from gunning someone down in the cafeteria and stared dully into the screen.

". . .the fuck is this?"

"I don't have a lot of resources and I don't have a lot of time--and I heard your luck is incredible, and I just need you to press this button here."

Ren pointed at a confirmation button on the screen, careful not to tap it. Taiga stared at it as if it weren't two sentences worth of text and it was taking a long time to read.

He reached forward and tapped the screen, then snatched Ren's wrist when he tried to pull away and protest being taken out of it. A few colorful characters appeared from behind the darkened screen of the confirmation popup. The link advertising rates immediately caught Taiga's eye, and he tapped at the screen, scrolling through the numbers with increasing interest.

The rates for the most artful of characters were insanely low, and a quick tap of the gems in the top of the screen said they cost a pretty penny. He idly committed the prices and numbers to memory(where they were lost as soon as he moved away from the screen) to calculate the value of.

"What're you doing!? I just--you just have to do the pull! You don't need to look at anything else!"

"This is gambling!" Taiga said cheerfully. "Some real shit odds at that! What, you're going for that one? It looks kinda like you, kid!"

He pointed at a character near the top of the rate screen. "No, I pulled that one already, somehow. . .it's the topmost one I'm after. Everybody says it's completely overpowered and all of the new meta's based on this unit, not to mention the art--"

Taiga nodded along, the gacha having had drawn some of his interest as a gambler. Way less fun than a game with anything of interest on the line, but it still seemed interesting. Not the characters or units or anything of that sort, but the act of pulling for things of value. . .he supposed it was named after gachapon machines. But the virtual nature of it meant less limited potential. . .so the artificial scarcity was formed by limited time features like this.

Quite the business tactic. Romeo might like it.

"So you just need me to press this button here, yeah?" Taiga navigated back to the gacha as though he'd been playing the game since release. He was almost invested now. "And you want me to get you this thing or whatever."

"Yes!! If you can!!" Taiga sneered and popped open the confirmation menu.

"Kid, I don't lose bets--"

Once again guns were pointed at Ren as he grabbed Taiga's finger before he could do the pull. Not appreciating the contact, Taiga smacked his hand away, and he winced at the feeling of his rings colliding with his palm.

"You--" he swallowed, trying to ignore the threats. The look on Taiga's face almost made him want to call it quits again. This was already way more effort than it was worth. . .to a normal person, anyway, but this pull could be the true beginning or the end of his playing this game. "You need to hold down on the screen, after you press the button. It doesn't seem like it does anything, but I swear I've gotten better pulls that way--"

"I don't need your superstitions, brat."

With that, Taiga tapped the button without even looking at the screen, glaring uncomfortably into Ren's face. At first, he was frozen, before the audio cue prompted him to spin the phone screen to face himself. "Wait, you did a single pull!? You were supposed to do a ten, the rate is higher that way!"

"Don't need it."

"But if I don't get it that's a waste of my--!!!"

Ren's jaw dropped as the screen flashed a multitude of colors. The gacha music faded out, and a new track began to play, a popular voice actress' recorded line playing accompanying the subtitled dialogue being spelt out across the screen. His eyes went wide as the SSR's unique animation played, and he watched on as his desperately desired pull came through on a single, effortless shot from a stranger.

"Holy shit you got it." Taiga grinned, looking over Ren's shoulder at the new unit, completely unaware of what it meant. At most, the art was kind of nice. Ren looked like he was holding in tears--or maybe a scream. "You actually. . .in a single pull!?"

"Gyahahaha! Told you I don't lose, kid!" He threw an overly friendly arm around Ren's shoulders. Ren looked at Taiga like he was a hero. Of course he did, until Taiga said, "hey. . .you ever heard the expression 'there's no such thing as a free lunch?'"

For a moment, Ren remembered all of the things Taiga mentioned before. Debts. Deaths. Illicit substances. His face fell, and Taiga gave him a squeeze and a friendly shake and a smile that was more sinister than sincere. For a moment, Ren wondered if he'd gotten himself into something he couldn't get out of. Did this single gacha pull just pull him into a life of crime? Was he about to be some sort of drug runner for the local organized crime house? Did he need to kill somebody? Could he kill somebody?

". . .What do I owe you?" It was just a gacha pull! Why did he go to the guys who look like the mob for a gacha pull!? What a stupid idea, just because he overheard that the captain of Sinostra had some unbelievable luck. The triumphant music playing from his phone and the animated character on the screen offered him no comfort and Taiga bore his sharp teeth in a grin.

"I'm glad you asked! Lulu throws a little bitchfit whenever I do somebody a favor without a price, even if it's a personal favor and not a Sinostra one." He leaned his cheek against Ren, tapping painted nails against his chest. "And I'd guess you'd ordinarily need to do a lot more than just one pull to get what you wanted, yeah? Maybe ten, maybe even a hundred?"

Ren nodded stiffly. The rates for this game were abysmal. But it was addictive.

"So the value. . .it's way more than just one, isn't it." He couldn't remember the numbers he'd seen earlier exactly, but he could do some calculations in his head. If he bothered to. But he knew enough people with gambling addictions to know how Ren's mind worked. This service was nigh invaluable to him. "And I saved you money. That's practically worth interest."

"W-wait a second!" Ren pulled away--or, perhaps Taiga let Ren pull away. "This didn't cost you anything but a few seconds, maybe a couple minutes! The gems you spent on the pull, they weren't even 1,000 yen in total! I could pay you that out of pocket and--"

"Y'know what? You're right. It didn't cost me a thing, what'm I even saying!" He laughed and smiled in a friendly way. Ren didn't trust the sudden change in attitude in the slightest. He'd let his guard down. But it couldn't stay down. "Hell, it was even kinda fun. All the flashy lights and pretty sounds--and you got your little drawing out of it, right? Not to mention, you're one of Harry's kids, aren't'cha!"

"Eugh. I am not his. . . ." Ren stopped himself, then grit his teeth. This could save him. Haru could be of use for once. "Y-yeah, I uh. . .he's a great. . .father. . .? Anyway, if you had fun and I got what I wanted, then we're even, right?"

"Sure, sure!" Taiga clapped Ren on the shoulder. "Hey, you got more of those things you want? It was pretty fun, I wouldn't mind helping you out again if you ever want more!"

This appealed too heavily to Ren's sensitivities for him to stay on guard like he wanted. ". . .really? If you don't get results, I'm not asking you again."

"Yeah, really! I'm waiting on my lunch anyway, what else've you got?"

". . .and I don't have to pay?"

"Nah, no cash. No crazy favors. Don't even worry about it."

That specific wording should have tipped him off that he wasn't entirely off scott free, but the idea of more free SSRs in his account catalogue enticed him too much. Taiga looked at his phone screen and tapped through to the gacha again.

". . .well. . .the unit gets stronger if you manage to pull it a second time--or, up to five times. So we could try pulling for it again. And there's another unit I wanted to get--oh, and in a different game--"

Taiga went along with Ren's increasing excitement, tapping away at the screen. Ten-pulls glimmered with high rarity units and supports even as games were switched. A few times Ren even asked Taiga to perform actions in the game for him, cheering quietly when he got him through difficult story missions that had been keeping him stuck in place for weeks.

All the while, Taiga insisted there was no charge.

But he didn't say anything about no debt.

And he may have said that Ren didn't have to pay, but that didn't mean he wouldn't extract value from him in other ways. In a few weeks Ren would be staring into the pen for some anomalous animal, wondering how he would get it all the way to Sinsotra without arousing suspicion, and trying not to think of the way he saw Taiga eat raw meat and bone that day, complaining to the student who'd brought it for him that it wasn't fresh enough but it'd do.

He refused to blame himself for all of this though. It's not his fault the guy with improbable luck was a mafia boss. It's not his fault the mafia boss was an underhanded carnivore. And it sure as hell wasn't his fault he was assigned to the house full of animals!

And it wasn't his fault that the gacha rates were so low he went this route either. It's capitalism's fault! It's the fault of companies preying on gambling addictions! He's not to blame for this! He refused to be!

[bonefall]

jayfeather and moleflight toxic yaoi…

Oh wow there's not even anything in the Molejay tag. Is this pair so rare it's not been done yet?

Jayfeather and Moleflight, toxic yaoi, "I named myself after the time I trounced your angelic ass" and "I've personally assigned my entire afterlife to trying to prevent you from causing chaos." They want to kiss each other sooo bad it makes them look stupid. The rituals, they are so intricate.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey. Had this idea of Thena being a billionaire and Gil being her private chef on her private little beach house in the Hamptons!

Maybe you can do something with that? 😊

Gil smiled as he plated the perfect omelette, gleaming yellow, nice loose scramble in the middle with a pristine outside. He sprinkled on some green onion for garnish; Thena acted like she didn't care about presentation but he knew she liked it when her food looked nice.

Thena was...interesting. She could be hard to read, maybe. He had been in the private cooking business for a while, and he'd had a variety of clients. But no one like Thena.

Thena had this old family house, basically a castle, way out here in the Hamptons--as antisocial as possible. She was in charge of her family's generational wealth, he was pretty sure they did business with historical...stuff. Or something.

Thena didn't talk much. The first time he interviewed for the position with her in the room he wasn't even sure if she spoke English. But her assistant - a very sweet man named Karun - assured him that 'the Madame' was perfectly nice. Just not to bother her.

But Karun was right: Thena was nice. Sure, she didn't exactly make small talk with him while she was eating or anything. But she had a nice smile, she was prompt with money, both for his pay and for any of the ingredients he needed. He always had transportation home, or he had a room ready for him if he was staying for a whole weekend.

Gil put the plate on a place mat at the opposite counter top. Thena liked eating in the kitchen instead of the cavernous dining room. She ate a a French style omelette, or if she was feeling adventurous, maybe a frittata, or he had even prepared omurice for her once. She liked fresh pressed grapefruit juice with a little natural sweetener in it. And berries picked from the gardens.

And he liked to add a little flower if there were any blooming on the strawberry plants while he was out picking.

Thena came in through the patio. She had already done her morning routine, then. A light workout, a shower, maybe a sauna. Her phone was in her hand but she famously didn't accept anyone speaking to her before 9 in the morning. She smiled and nodded to him as she took her seat.

She was in a good mood.

Gil turned around, carefully transporting the gold rimmed cup with his best cappuccino yet. He had even looked up how to make latte art to make a heart design in it.

Thena blinked, surprised as it slid into her view. She looked up at him.

He just nodded, encouraging her to take a sip.

She raised an eyebrow but did so. Usually he waited for her to ask for a specific coffee, since it could vary largely depending on the morning.

He shrugged; something about how beautiful the sunrise was had told him she would want something fun. It wasn't sunday, so she wouldn't want something as filling as a latte. But she only drank black coffee when she was already in a bad mood. Actually, now that he thought about it he ought to get more vanilla soy milk.

Thena sighed at her first sip, her shoulders lowering as she let the hot beverage soak into her. She really was in a good mood.

Gil just chuckled, keeping his comments to himself. He had come to respect the serenity Thena created for herself in the early mornings. He turned again to clear his dishes and fill the dishwasher.

He had to get soy milk, and a few other general weekend groceries. And he needed to get ingredients for a recipe he saw online, essentially a lemon cake tiramisu. Thena liked zingy, fresh flavours, and she enjoyed having something sweet on hand for if a craving hit her out of nowhere or after a hard day.

"It's perfect."

He tried to conceal the surprise he was feeling. But he couldn't help it; Thena had almost never commented on anything he made her, unless it was a brief line attached in an email. He turned, "y-yeah?"

She nodded.

He pursed his lips faintly. Back to silence--okay, sure. He peeked in the fridge to examine what else they had and what he needed. When he had asked Karun what Thena liked to keep on hand, he had merely stated that Thena was so bad at cooking, and so selective about food, that if left to her own devices she would probably just eat raw fruit forever.

"How did you know?"

He grinned. So, he was making progress! He had tried more actively in the beginning to get her to warm up to him. But he had come to accept that Thena didn't withhold her words deliberately. Still, he liked it when she did talk. "Just thought you'd be in the mood for it."

She raised her eyebrows at him from behind the cup being tipped up to her lips again.

He closed the fridge and moved back to the counter. "It's nice and mild out this morning, so I think you should have slept well. Stocks are looking good and you don't have to travel this weekend, right? I figured you would want something a little fun."

Thena smiled through his explanation. Maybe some of his observations of her would be a little much to some. But she nodded, looking down into her cappuccino, one leg bent and resting on her cushioned stool. "I assumed you would prefer when I travel?"

Gil blinked.

She set the mug down, as if this were a very important business meeting. "If I'm here, you don't get the weekend off. Or at the very least, you have plenty of work to do before hand."

"I don't mind," he shrugged easily. It was part of the job, and as far as clients went, Thena really wasn't all that demanding. She wasn't even that high maintenance, all things considered.

Food was easy to procure, either grown here or paid for out of her pocket. The only real stipulations of what he made was that she had to eat it. Karun was kind of like a worrisome father in that way. He had added specifically that she needed more vegetables, and that meant it was up to Gil to make them in such a way that Thena would actually like them.

"Do you ever think you may be too agreeable?"

"Hm," Gil ran his hand over his chin (he needed to shave). "I think it's more like...part of the job, y'know?"

"Hm."

Gil blinked at the new tone of the sound. She looked back at her breakfast. She sounded almost...disappointed. Disheartened, and now poking at her omelette like a dejected little kid. Gil leaned off the further counter and moved closer to her. "I just...wanted to do something kind of special for you."

She peeked up at him. She was awfully cute for some zillionaire old money type. Her hair was nice and soft from being gently blow dried, she didn't have any makeup on, fresh from the shower. Maybe all rich people were really, really pretty.

"You're not contractually obligated to be thoughtful," she smiled as she said it, but he got the impression that she didn't fully believe in her own joke.

He shrugged again, pushing the little flower closer to her, "call it my signature, then. Every chef has their own style--I like being a little sweet."

Thena smiled at the little white strawberry flower. She even reached out to it, but just barely let her fingers brush its soft petals, as if she would make it burst into flame. "Quite."

Gil inhaled, feeling better now that she was smiling again. She looked up at him, the sun behind her, making her hair glow. He blushed.

"Thank you, Gilgamesh."

He laughed faintly, feeling shy as she turned those siren eyes on him. He leaned back from the counter, sticking his hands in his apron pockets. "Hey, it's my pleasure, really."

"If you have shopping to do, Karun will call for a car for you," she added as he started slowly slipping - stumbling - out of the kitchen.

"Th-Thanks!" Gil squeaked out before reaching the hallway. He pulled his apron off and gripped it on his way to take it to the laundry room.

"You require transport, sir!"

Gil jumped at the sudden appearance of the man in question. "God, man, can't you walk a little louder!"

"My apologies, sir," Karun just chuckled. "The Madame walks lightly--as do I."

Thena walked around like a cat. She was silent, graceful, long legs...

"Sir?"

Fuck. Gil nodded, twisting his apron in his hands. He tilted his head as Karun shuffled closer, even waving him down so he could share something secretive.

"Excellent choice with the cappuccino, sir," he disclosed with glee. "The Madame has been trying to strike up a conversation with you for some time. I believe this was the perfect-"

"Karun!"

"I must go," he waved to Gilgamesh before dashing off to see to Thena's needs.

Gil felt a little stunned. It sounded like Karun was telling him that Thena had been wanting to talk with him. But that didn't seem right. Of all the times he had tried to chat with her, she had never bit, even once. And he didn't really think of her as the shy type.

He sighed, shrugging it off. He had groceries to get, anyway. Maybe he would try talking with her again, later.

[dmclemblems]

I love all the comments Dimi makes (in canon and in Heroes!) about he likes to help farmers/the working class and how he could see himself being one of those people in another life. He’s a royal, he has riches, he can make all the laws if he wants to, he gets the last say in everything, he has loyal friends even! ...but he thinks about a life where he has less than that, or he doesn’t tell the commonfolk who he is so he can be around them and help them. If he doesn’t tell people he’s a king, he can mingle with whoever he wants and live the life of a commoner for a little while.

I feel like Dimi finds being born as a royal to be a little frustrating only because of all the things other people will do to him/his family and friends solely because of his status. He wants to be a king so he can guide and help his people, but it’s put such a burden on him and absolutely ruined his health both physical and mental because of what others have done to him.

What Dimi seems to really want is a regular life even as a king. He wants to be the kind who can help his people that will create their future the way they see fit for themselves, but he wants to live the same as them and be no different from them. Some people need a leader and they need someone who can make the hard decisions, but at the end of the day sometimes those people are just like everyone else and I think that’s his ideal life. He lives for other people and devotes himself to other people, but I think what he really wants is to be like anyone else and to be able to fit in with all those nice, helpful, supportive regular villagers who are happy and unburdened when they’re just living their lives in the fields and not being stressed by politics.

It’s sad because he seems to really want things for himself and he wants to be happy, but since he thinks he doesn’t deserve that (all because of things people did to him/his family and friends that weren’t even his fault), he forces himself to deal with not being truly happy most of the time. Instead, what he actually wants is a simple and humble life and to be like anyone else out there... 🥺 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:

AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?

I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.

For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.

None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.

The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.

He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.

I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."

I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.

Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?

What are these acronyms?

Original post

The update

[writersdrug]

Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 2

<- Previous - Next ->

Warnings: light cursing, light nsfw, Simon being the tiniest bit of a creep

A/N: so originally this was just a fluffy thought I had a few weeks ago... it's slowly turning into a longer, multi-chapter series, and Simon is a bit darker than I had intended him to be... but the story is still going to stay relatively normal (there will be full NSFW further down the line, lol)!

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

--------------

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

------------

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[willowser]

once you and katsuki discover you're expecting, you agree to keep it to yourselves for a little while.

you can't hide forever, but you want the chance to bask in the excitement of what's to come, together, away from outside eyes prying in. and you do: there's an immediate difference in the way you touch each other, how often, with katsuki even shifting coverage for patrol just so he can cling to your side for an extra day or two. it's like a honeymoon, almost, and you take the time to enjoy it like one.

but of course he wants to tell his parents as soon as he can, though he doesn't outright admit it; as soon as you start pushing the boundary of your waistband, he finds time in his schedule to see his dad—and then mitsuki makes time for him to see her.

katsuki tells toshinori next, who becomes quite emotional at the sight of your ultrasound, which in turn makes katsuki surprisingly emotional, too. there's much that they say and even more that they don't, but it's all communicated, regardless.

and lastly—he has to tell his nerd-ass friends.

it happens on one of their bi-monthly outings—that katsuki has consecutively been skipping for a little while, for obvious reasons. and it's like the minute he sits down in his seat and orders his food and one beer, everything he'd planned to say dissolves in his head.

despite wanting to keep quiet, he's been trying to plot out his announcement to these exact shit heads since the moment you found out. it's just so personal, and even after everything, katsuki's still discovering how to share those parts of his life with others, still coming to terms with the fact that he wants to.

he'd considered doing it slowly, rather than all at once in front of all of them, but he very quickly realized how terrible of a plan that was; deku would not physically be able to contain such knowledge in his body for any period of time, kirishima is a notorious fucking gossip, and if shouto had given him some kind of shit ass, wrinkled-nose look, he would have had to howitzer him through a building.

so he just says it, because he's never really been one for subtlety.

right after everyone's received their food and started to take their first bites, denki makes a point to ask,

"how's things with your honeybun, kacchan?"

and normally he'd have a fit at the nickname, but instead he hears bun and feels his stomach flip like it does when he remembers, when silly little things remind him of what the two of you have made together, and into his food, he simply says,

"we're havin' a baby."

the expected silence falls over all of them, save for the scaping of utensils against katsuki's bowl. he's damn good at feigning nonchalance, but food is getting stuck in his throat and his heart is beating so hard that he can hear it deep in his eardrums. of course he knows, but it dawns on him again, how overrun he is with excitement.

across the table, denki takes his turn to speak again. "you're...what?"

and then the whole room is erupting into a mass of chaos, moving in pieces like a riot of unrefined children, and even though he's being hounded with a million questions and being shaken around by his shoulders and some of these assholes are crying—katsuki graces them all with a big, fat grin.

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

[ghostaholics]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn medic!Reader (same reader from here, but this is a stand-alone) ➸ SUMMARY: You kiss Simon's very minor injuries. And then some. (Or, alternatively: He's not actually wounded. He just wants to see you.) ➸ WARNING(S): some graphic descriptions of old injuries ➸ A/N: Need to preface that this isn't smut despite how the title and summary sound. Anyways, Jo knows I listened to Hozier's Other Voices 2020 version of "Work Song" for a week straight while writing this. ➸ WC: 2k

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃, ❞ he admits, low-timbered. It feels intimate, especially coming from him. Simon's sitting on the cot; it sags under his weight. He curls his hands over the edge of it as he leans forward. No casualties post-mission means he's got free rein to pick wherever he wants in the medical tent.

"Oh, yeah? What about?"

"That I should probably do my best to avoid injuries so I don’t keep pestering you. Can always just tell me to fuck off, y’know.”

“You’re gonna break my heart if you stop coming around.

“Mm,” he says in agreement. “Can’t have that can we?”

You nod your head earnestly. “I like your company.”

“Tryin’ to say that you’ll miss me?”

“I would.” More than he knows.

It’s routine now. He gives you just enough room, adjusting his position. You step into the space made between Simon’s splayed knees, his massive legs nearly bracketing yours with how close they are. He’s bigger than you. Well, considerably more mammoth-like in his proportions compared to an overwhelming majority of the soldiers that you’ve encountered, to be quite honest.

Simon acts as though he’s acutely aware of his size. You suspect that he purposefully makes himself smaller in your presence. Like now, how his shoulders are rounded forward, the column of his spine not as straight-arrow in that standard, militaristic posture most servicemen have adopted. As if he doesn’t want to appear too intimidating. Not that Simon could, to you. Hours doing his stitches and idle chitchat on your part have taught you that he’s much less ruthless than people seem to paint him as. But you appreciate the thought anyway.

You conduct the assessment – a typical evaluation normal for combat casualty care, more in-depth than the one you’d done when he initially stopped by and you did a quick once-over for any obvious injuries. Though given the complete vacancy in the medical tent, you find it hard to believe that you’ll come across anything on him since the mission went that smoothly.

The first thing you notice this time: he doesn't smell like spilled blood. It's different. Not that sweet, rusted iron of wet tackiness – the one that reminds you of a generous stack of two pence coins held between a pair of hands cupped together. He comes in that way a lot. Reeks, because war means that he's no stranger to charging through a shower of copper and lead-forged bullets out on the field. Everything else is still there, though. Maybe a dying campfire – crackling logs and blackened earth. Soft dirt excavated from a foxhole for cover while under enemy fire. All gunpowder and Marlboro Lights and diesel-fuel smoke. Fresh rain and a blue-violet sky after a storm. Victory without consequence.

You'd breathe it in if you could, pull the collar of his jacket up to your face. At this proximity, it’d be easy.

He drops the act when he’s in front of you. Lieutenant. Ghost. Battle-hardened, gruff. A natural-born leader. The kind of person to rip this world apart brick by brick – scraped up palms clutching onto broken pieces – to make sure that the plan is executed accordingly, no matter the cost. It’s hard for him to shed that layer. A drop in the bucket of information that you’ve gathered about this man.

You’ve seen him at his best. But you know him at his worst.

The laundry list of injuries over the years: blows to his torso and his back and his limbs that were brighter than technicolor – purples and reds and sickly yellow-green shades – deep, blotchy medals of violence decorating his skin like some kind of fucked-up kaleidoscope that was nothing to be proud of; when some bastard drove a knife right into his upper thigh, that dirty blade wedged through tissue and muscle which was sure as hell going to induce the nastiest infection without serious TLC and a tetanus shot; rib fractures 7-9 because he aborted an exploding heli, seconds to spare before landing on his side wrong from a height that was equivalent to three stories tall; old GSWs dotting his body the same way you’d shove push pins into a paper-flimsy map to mark the places you’ve been to.

And then there’s no contest for the top contender. 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐭 #𝟏: when he was rushed in on a stretcher, barely clinging to life. Lower abdomen shredded by exploding shrapnel. He was outside of the window of opportunity. Too far beyond that golden hour, so his chances of surviving plummeted to a single-digit percent.

He’s more than just a patchwork of scars. There’s a complex person underneath the surface. A miracle in the flesh to have toughed it out through all of that. Resilient. Perpetual. His callsign makes sense. Ghosts really do live forever.

Several seconds pass before you speak again. It’s a silly comment, teasing – poking fun at him. You don’t have any reservations when it comes to picking on Simon; he’s good about taking these things in stride. Funny, actually. He’s got a dry sense of humor. “I think… you like the idea of someone taking care of you.”

His response isn’t immediate. It’s delayed, said with intention. He doesn’t ever waste words. “Not just anybody.”

You nearly reel back at that. Warmth floods your face. You aren’t quite sure what to say, didn’t expect it. So you let the comment hang in the air between the two of you, busying your hands with slipping off his tac vest, triple-checking for hidden wounds, doing anything to keep yourself occupied while you stand this close to him in the wake of that remark. You’re engrossed in your work, in search of a distraction.

(He’s a distraction, isn’t he?)

And then your eyes stop in their scan. Right there: a small nick on the exposed sliver of skin between his glove and sleeve – open to the direct path of some wayward debris that happened to graze him. So tiny. You’ve seen paper cuts more harrowing than this – wouldn’t have even registered on your radar, especially if it’s being dwarfed by other critical wounds that hold decisive sway over somebody’s fate when it comes to your average life-or-death scenario.

Of course, you take your job very seriously.

You feign a sharp inhale. “Ah,” you say solemnly, guiding his arm up to your face for a closer look. “Found your problem.”

“I’ve got a problem,” he echoes, voice laced with amusement.

“See, you came to the right place. Anybody else would’ve missed it.”

“The verdict, then?”

“So terrible. Earth-shattering, in fact—”

Simon starts pulling away. “Alright, that’s enough of you takin’ the piss outta me,” he gripes.

You chase his arm to recapture it into your grasp. “Wait!” you say, huffing out a laugh. Your mouth sprouts into a wide grin that makes him roll his eyes.

“You gonna treat me or what?”

Your humor bubbles away as you come back to your senses. Those once-loud peals of laughter start to die down when you take his question into consideration. Because there’s really nothing for you to do; he doesn’t need you.

The realization is slow-moving. It washes over you, rolls like waves as you finally begin to sober up.

Simon wants to be here, and he’s looking for any excuse to stay. He just can’t find the courage to own up to it.

“I dunno. Might be unconventional,” you throw out casually, playing along. “Risky, maybe – never been done before.”

But he’s undeterred. “Sure. Whatever you gotta do.”

You pause for a beat, fingers still wrapped around his forearm because you haven’t managed to let go yet. His skin is warm under your palm. You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to do it – emboldened by his encouragement, given complete carte blanche; he’s leaving this to your discretion. So you press your lips to that area where the cut is, right over his pulse point. If you had lingered for longer, you probably would’ve been able to feel it thudding, that solid rhythm and easy strength reminding you he’s alive.

You expected him to withdraw his arm in bewilderment. He should’ve kicked up a fuss about you violating his boundaries, should’ve told you that you overstepped. Something, right?

But he doesn’t do any of that. Simon’s studying you. Dark pupils. So chasm-deep that the ground beneath your feet might slip away. Ocean trenches, midnight-black like the charcoal smudged around his eyes. When they land on you, his gaze goes molasses-soft. He’s fond; there’s little room for doubt. The way he looks at you says everything. None of that usual coldness he harbors during an op. Instead, relaxed and more human than you’re used to seeing – all of his attention focused solely on you.

“Where else, Simon?” you whisper.

He’s thinking – carefully weighing his options – the same expression that he gets when a crossroads lies ahead of him and he knows his make-it-or-break-it decision will invariably affect the outcome of a mission.

After several moments, his hand comes up. Simon’s fingers curl underneath the hem of his mask; he’s been wearing the fabric balaclava more often since you’ve fixed the stitching on it. Then he lifts – not the entire way. Just to reveal the bottom half of his face. There he is. Sandpaper-rough stubble. The sharp cut of his jaw. A mouth that you’re convinced wears a scowl 24/7 behind his mask but is now slightly twitched up.

Even though you’ve seen it before, the sight of him never fails to steal your breath away. Feels like meeting him for the first time again. With how rarely he does this, it might as well be – that slow, heart-melting sensation is steadily filling the cavern of your chest.

And you lean in. Your lips brush against his; it’s a chaste thing – the kiss – if it can be called that. Gentle. Like how you’d stitch up his wounds with a light touch and kind intent. He’s built of sterner stuff, but if there’s anything you’ve learned about him, it’s that he’s capable of breaking just as easily as everyone else. You always handle Simon with care: unequivocal compassion and empathy when there’s so little of those left on this side of war – privileges that he’s never taken for granted.

“Better?” you ask quietly, tipping your head in question.

Simon hums his approval – this pleased, low sound in his throat. His hand slides across your lower back. He tugs you towards him. “Wouldn’t mind some more attention,” he murmurs, before slotting his mouth over yours. And then he kisses you like it might heal him from the outside in.

[emmafrostyyy]

y'all sleeping on Astarion/Lae'zel bc this moment is so...the way the flippant demeanor drops and he doesn't hesitate to call her out for sticking with her version of Cazador like their relationship is so underrated fr...

sitting down writing this bullshit like let me peel it like an onion a bit and elaborate why this pairing is fascinating to me

It's really interesting how during the most cathartic, life-altering moment in Astarion's questline, the reactions of the other companions are more about the moral wrongness/guilt of sacrificing innocent lives. Lae'zel doesn't do that and instead relates to his hurt.

She knows what's he's feeling, the lack of control, the unfairness of being powerless for too long. This is a woman who just found out her entire life purpose was built on lies, discarded and hunted by her own people after outliving her usefulness, and groomed to basically die for an insane power-hungry lich queen. She knows all too well that power isn't always real freedom. Her first instinct is to empathize with Astarion to steer him away from his hate and resentment.

Astarion/Lae'zel is so interesting to me because they're such a classic "can we make each other worse or make a better person out of the other?".

They both have genuine appreciation for violence and respect each other's ruthlessness. Astarion was used as a weapon of seduction while Lae'zel was of warfare. Sex with people is meaningless and not real intimacy for them, and while both have little understanding/experience of interpersonal relationships beyond the physical, they still feel and love very deeply. They have no frame of reference for things like friendship and warmth, but they badly want all of that and more, even if they don't know it yet.

In-game they can sleep with each other, which is basically the foundation of the normal Tav/Astarion romance. Lae'zel saw him during combat and got horny, who knows. Astarion who's used to luring people with his charms, takes up Lae'zel's blunt offer because she's a strong hardened warrior that can provide protection and be a worthy ally, and he doesn't know how to say no. Navigating the complications between one who wants to be seen beyond as a sex object, and one who comes from a totally alien culture with no concept of love/family/connections and only sex is honestly really compelling to me. It's a transactional, mutually beneficial thing with no emotional expectations. Once you get past the skeevy rockiness of their early relationship, I really like the idea of them slowly seeing something past the exterior and realizing they may have harshly misjudged the other, an unspoken friendship blooms, and in comes the realization that they are essentially loners longing for kindness and a comforting touch in the most desperate of situations.

Lae'zel is prideful, direct, has no sense of courtship talk, and doesn't hold back her thoughts the slightest--she's not sweet/agreeable and what you see is really what you get, which I imagine would be disarming for Astarion who's used to vacuous flattery and has difficulty trusting others. But she's also insanely protective, passionate, loyal, and an initiator-- every romance scene is triggered by her first and she's always showing effort towards her relationships, which would mesh well with Astarion who does need someone to nudge him.

She doesn't purposely suppress her feelings, she's just simply at loss at how to express them sometimes due to her wildly different upbringing. She stops the sparring match you agree to and an easy vulnerability slips instantly out of her: "I don't want to hurt you. I want to protect you, and for you to protect me." and "Thus far I've taunted you, devoured you, battled you. Now I want more than anything to soothe you." are romantic as fuck and Astarion of all people really needs to hear that tbh.

Astarion is also someone who struggles with reinforcing his boundaries, and a key theme in Lae'zel's romance is that she encourages and wants you to challenge her and learn to stand your ground. It's not gentlest method, but hey, relationships are about having to make an effort to learn each other's language.

I think he also would take pleasure "educating her on the matters of Fay-run" (I believe there's a whole banter with him teasing her and teaching her pet names) and would get a kick out of coaxing Lae'zel out of her shell with her shyness at showing public affection, and making her blush. Also it simply would be fucking funny to see Astarion who's used to easy seduction, trying to pass a persuasion check just to get a smooch and generally having to work to earn regular kisses from Lae'zel lmfaooo

Lae'zel also initially struggles to see her chains as chains. When she learns about Vlaakith's betrayal, she copes instantly through denial and shuts it down. Astarion is NOT having it and calls her out, he knows her well enough to recognize that she would value blunt honesty above all.

I imagine he also despises her lack of self-preservation, the way her entire identity is tied to duty and being in service of others, and doesn't understand her desire to still help/liberate the people that want her dead and are hunting her down. He wants to make this duty-bound soldier realize that looking out for herself, and putting herself first may not be the worst thing in the world.

They're so similar to each other but are also polar opposites in some ways that make a more equal, balanced romance I think. It's not a simple, one-sided, feel-good "she/he can fix her/him" fantasy because both of them have to earn each other's love, actually cut through the other's flaws, and actively motivate each other to be better versions of themselves.

They're not at all the other's ideal guiding hand. It's rough, jagged, and imperfect, but that's how healing goes. It's so far from being the healthiest relationship -- but even if their belief systems differ, their moral compass does often align. I imagine it's a slight relief for them to have a partner where there would be less shame and judgment when they expectedly, occasionally slip up and fall into their bad habits.

Also, man, the "You showed me the betweens and beyonds. Beyond war and peace, beyond passion and obsession, most importantly, you showed me freedom.", "First you were my wound, now you were my cure.", "But you saw something else in me - someone else I could be. Someone who could break the cycle of power and terror that started centuries ago.." lines really hit hard when applied to them.

Of course, they can also make each other worse, feed into the other's negative traits that will bring out the worst part of themselves. It's this duality of their pairing that is very interesting to explore, the way it can steer in either direction because it's an intense, fraught relationship at its core.