#i actually think that this might have been the first time in years that uncertainties and an open future didn't scare him?

[mariclerc]

Little miracle ♡ | cl16

Summary: You and Charles have been together for years and have always talked about starting a family.

Warning: none, just fluff.

a/n: It's a little long, but I hope you like it as much as I did !!

The afternoon sun streams through the living room window, casting warm light across the plush couch where you lie curled up. A magazine lays forgotten on your chest, your brow furrowed in concentration. You take a deep breath, wincing slightly. The dull ache in your lower abdomen has been there for a few days now, and you can't help but wonder...

With a sigh, you push yourself up and head to the bathroom. You open the cabinet and reach for the lone pregnancy test tucked discreetly in the back corner. It's been there for months but only in case of emergencies, a silent reminder of what could be, a possibility you both discussed but never truly dared to hope for.

Your hands tremble slightly as you follow the instructions, the silence of the apartment amplifying your racing thoughts. What if it's positive? How will Charles react? Excitement? Fear? Uncertainty? The image of his bright smile flashes in your mind, but it's quickly overshadowed by a wave of apprehension. After a couple of minutes the alarm sounds and with great care and trembling hands, you review the test...

Two pink lines: positive. A wave of different emotions takes over you, you are very afraid and at the same time hope that perhaps this has not gone as planned, but it's something incredible, a small miracle growing inside you.

After a couple of hours, the scent of Charles' cologne fills the air as he bursts through the door, his usual infectious energy bouncing off the walls. He throws his bag on a hanger, his eyes scanning the room until they land on you.

“Hey bellissima! How was your day?” He says while having a grin on his face.

You manage a small smile, forcing yourself to appear relaxed. “Good, just relaxing. You seem in a good mood today!”

“Just had a great afternoon with the team, preparing some things in the simulator... So, what's for dinner? You know I'm starving!” He said while chuckling.

You lead him to the kitchen, the aroma of your carefully prepared pasta filling the air. As you set the table, you steal glances at him, his animated chatter a stark contrast to your swirling emotions.

“Hey, is everything okay baby? You seem a bit...different.” He asks as he notices your quietness.

You hesitate, then decide to plant the first seed.

“Actually, there is something I need to tell you. But I think it's better if we wait until after dinner.”

His smile falters slightly, replaced by a furrowed brow.

“Is everything alright? Is it something serious?”

“Don't worry, it's nothing bad. Just...something we need to talk about.” You said while taking his hand.

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, the worry lingering in his eyes. Dinner passes in a blur of polite conversation and stolen glances. With dessert cleared away, you both settle onto the couch, the weight of your unspoken secret hanging heavy in the air.

”Charles, remember that talk we had a few months ago? About...you know...” You take a deep breath.

He nods slowly, his gaze intense and understanding. “Of course darling.”

“Well, there's a chance...a big possibility...that things might have changed.”

His eyes widen, a flicker of hope battling with trepidation.

“You mean...?”

“I took a test. And...it's positive.” You whisper while you show the test to him.

The silence that follows is deafening. You watch Charles' face, searching for any hint of his reaction. His initial surprise gives way to a slow smile, spreading across his features like sunrise.

“Oh my god, baby! Oh my baby...” He said with his voice thick with emotion.

He pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. You can feel his body trembling, his laughter mixed with choked sobs.

“This is incredible! We're going to have a baby!”

Relief washes over you, warm and sweet. The fear that had been gnawing at you melts away, replaced by a surge of joy and anticipation. You cling to him, both of you lost in the wonder of this new chapter.

As you pull back, Charles cups your face, his eyes shining with love and excitement.

“This is the best news ever! I can't wait to be a dad! We're going to be amazing parents!”

You nod, a smile blooming on your face. The future, once uncertain, now stretches before you, filled with promise and the beautiful mess of creating a family together.

As you pull away from the embrace, the weight of reality settles in. While you're both ecstatic about the news, a wave of anxieties washes over you. You take a deep breath and voice your concerns.

“Charles, I'm happy, truly. But...there's a lot to think about. Parenthood is a big change, and I can't help but worry about how it will affect everything.” You say a little shy.

He takes your hand, his gaze warm and understanding. “I know, amore. It's natural to feel nervous. But tell me, what's on your mind?”

“Well, there's my career. Taking time off for the baby, especially with your career in the spotlight, feels daunting.”

“We'll figure it out together, like we always do. You're incredibly talented, and I know you'll find a way to balance motherhood with your dreams.” He squeezes your hand.

He pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

“It's not just that, you know? It's the fear of the unknown. Being a parent is a huge responsibility, and I'm scared I won't be good enough.” You sigh.

He leans back, holding you at arm's length, his eyes searching yours.

“Hey, you'll be the most amazing mother. You're kind, compassionate, and have so much love to give. You'll be incredible, just like you are with everything else you do.”

A tear escapes your eye, and he brushes it away with a gentle thumb.

“We'll learn together, step by step. And we'll have each other, always. This is a journey we're going on together, as a team.”

His words soothe your anxieties, but a flicker of worry lingers.

“What about your racing? The media, the pressure, the fans...will this change things?”

He contemplates for a moment, then smiles reassuringly. “It will change things, of course, but not in a bad way. It'll give me something even more to fight for, even more to achieve. I'll be racing for our family, for our future together.”

His confidence reignites your own. You both share a laugh, the nervous tension easing.

“Now darling imagine our little Leclerc cheering me on from the stands!” He said with a smile on his face.

The image brings a joyful warmth to your chest. You lean in, sharing a kiss filled with hope and excitement for the unknown adventure ahead.

****

ynusername

liked by carmenmmundt, f1, kellypiquet and others.

ynusername something's in the way 🫣

tagged charles_leclerc

lilymhe omg!!! Congrats babes 🥹🥹

ynusername 🥹🥹🥹🩷 thank u sm bby

user1 mY PARENTS ARE GOING TO BE PARENTS?!?!#?! OH GOD 🥺😭😭

landonorris so... That explains why you threw up the cookies I sent to you both last week...

ynusername can you get over the cookies did I threw up last week? Thanks ☺️

charles_leclerc lando those cookies were horrible, I even threw up them too. 🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️

landonorris I didn't need to know that, but thanks for clarifying that my cooking skills suck.

charles_leclerc you are welcome bro 🫂

scuderiaferrari do we already have the future champion on the way? 👀❤️❤️

ynusername yup team!!

user2 oh my goodness, congrats to the best paddock couple 🤍🤍

charles_leclerc I love you my future baby mama 💗

ynusername I love you too papa to be!! 🥺🩷

user3 okay but they are using pink emojis, they defo know something WE DON'T OH GOD

Days turn into weeks, and your apartment becomes a haven of anticipation. You pick out tiny baby clothes, decorate the nursery with love, and lose yourselves in the joy of choosing names. Charles, usually focused on his racing career, surprises you with his attentiveness, researching baby gear, learning about childbirth, and excitedly planning for paternity leave.

For your part, breaking the news to your parents was not exactly what you expected or had in mind. They took the news in a very bad and ugly way, which made you feel hurt, since you thought they weren't going to take it that way. The disapproval still lingers, but it no longer holds power over you. You share your happiness with friends and Charles' family who offer genuine support and celebrate with you.

You and Charles create a photo album documenting your pregnancy journey, filled with silly selfies, ultrasound pictures, and heartfelt notes to your future child.

One evening, as you relax on the couch, Charles pulls out the photo album.

“Look at how far we've come amour!” He says, his voice filled with pride. “We may not have everyone's blessing, but we have each other, and that's all that matters.”

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes. You turn to him, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude.

“We do, amore. And we'll be amazing parents, together!”

He kisses you softly, the promise of a future filled with love and laughter hanging in the air. The disapproval from your parents may remain, but it fades into insignificance compared to the radiant joy you and Charles share.

****

charles_leclerc

liked by domi.nahmias, ynbff, georgerussell63 and others.

charles_leclerc baby mama is looking fine as always 😍😍 I love you so so much and our little one 💗💗

tagged ynusername

ynusername oh my babyyyyyy 🥺😭😭 I told you I looked so awful in that pic :(

charles_leclerc nonsense! You're looking gorgeous each day chérie ;)

ynusername okay!!! If u say so 🥹🥹

landonorris you're simping over a baby? Iugh 🤢

pierregasly lando stfu please 🙄🙄

ynusername thank you uncle Pierre 🙏🏻

arthur_leclerc UNCLE PIERRE? WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT‼️‼️‼️

lorenzotl I hope this is a joke

charles_leclerc oh god, guys get out of my comment section please

leclerc_pascale Je vous aime tellement, je suis si heureuse pour vous mes enfants 💗💗 (I love you so much, I am so happy for you my children)

ynusername Aww, merci maman 😭🥹🩷🩷 (aww, thank you mom)

charles_leclerc Merci maman!! nous t'aimons aussi 🩷🩷 (thank you mom!! we love you too)

user4 NOT THE PINK HEARTS AGAIN, THEY KNOW SOMETHING‼️‼️‼️‼️

ynbff I want to be the cool aunt okay sir?! 🫵🏻🫵🏻

charles_leclerc noted 📝

ynusername

liked by lilymhe, ruthbuscombe, lewishamilton and others.

ynusername we can't wait to meet you little Mills 💗💗💗 your papa and I are so excited to hold in our arms and love you unconditionally 🥹🥹 📸 by the one and only charles_leclerc

tagged charles_leclerc

kellypiquet oh my god 🥺🥺🥺

georgerussell63 now we know who to spoil in the paddock

logansargeant the official F1 baby

danielricciardo the official F1 mascot

charles_leclerc I don't want my baby to wear merch from all the teams above and below.

ynusername you know that she would be sticking to Ferrari, right guys??? 👀👀

charles_leclerc our little miracle is so loved 🩷🩷🥹 I love you so much chérie, thank you for giving me the best gift of all 🩷🩷🩷

ynusername ohhh baby, you're making me cry 😭😭, I love too babe!! I promise to be the best mama and girlfriend I can be🥹 I promise!!

charles_leclerc babe, you already are the best mama and wife our little girl and I could ask for!!🩷🩷

user5 excuse me??? WIFE???!? SIR COULD YOU EXPLAIN????

user4 omg a little girlyclerc, congrats!!! 🥺🥺💗

lewishamilton congrats lovebirds!!!

ynusername thank u lew <3

charles_leclerc thank you mate ❤️

scuderiaferrari we can't wait to see her in a race car. congratulations guys ❤️❤️

oscarpiastri a new little one to spoil with papaya merch

charles_leclerc ABSOLUTELY NOT

Weeks melt into months, your belly growing bigger with each passing day. You and Charles revel in the little miracles of pregnancy: the first flutter of movement, the tiny heartbeat on the ultrasound, the shared excitement of picking out names. Your apartment transforms, adorned with tiny clothes, a miniature crib, and countless teddy bears.

One sunny afternoon, you and Charles are sprawled on the couch, giggling over a particularly stubborn hiccup emanating from your belly.

“Do you think she'll be a fast car fan?” Charles asks, tracing your swollen belly with a finger.

You laugh, “Only if she inherits your love for race cars, but if she wants to be a driver like her papa, we will always support her!”

He smiles innocently, a playful glint in his eyes. “But of course love! We will be her number one fans, her big fans.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain jolts you upright. You gasp, eyes widening. Charles is by your side instantly, his face etched with concern.

”What is it, babe? Are you okay?”

“I think... I think it's time Charles.” You manage, voice shaky with a mix of fear and excitement.

Charles throws on his coat, his movements efficient yet tinged with nervous energy, He quickly looked for a briefcase that they had prepared in recent weeks in case this moment came, which was near the door. “Let's go, amore! It's time to meet our little miracle.”

The hospital is a whirlwind of activity. Nurses bustle around you, checking vitals and offering reassurances. Charles holds your hand, his grip tight yet comforting. He whispers jokes, sings silly songs, and recounts stories about his childhood, distracting you from the growing intensity of the contractions.

Hours later, after pushing with every ounce of your strength, a tiny cry fills the room. A wave of relief washes over you, followed by an overwhelming surge of love. Charles beams, tears glistening in his eyes as he cuts the umbilical cord, welcoming their daughter into the world.

Holding your newborn child in your arms, the world melts away. You and Charles, a team united by love and parenthood, gaze in awe at the perfect little face nestled against your chest. The initial disapproval from your parents feels miles away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy and accomplishment.

The nurse bustles around, cleaning your newborn daughter and wrapping her in a warm blanket. You watch, exhausted yet exhilarated, as the tiny form stirs and lets out a sleepy gurgle. Your gaze flickers to Charles, his face alight with a mixture of awe and nervousness.

“Mr. Leclerc.” the nurse says, her voice gentle. “Would you like to hold your daughter first, skin-to-skin?”

Charles' eyes widen. “Me?”

“Absolutely!” the nurse smiles. “It's called kangaroo care. It helps regulate her temperature, breathing, and heart rate, and it promotes bonding between you and her.”

He hesitates briefly, then nods eagerly. ”Of course!”

The nurse carefully places your daughter on his bare chest, her tiny body nestled against his warmth. Charles' eyes well up as he looks down at her, his fingers gently brushing her soft cheek. You watch their silent communion, a wave of love and tenderness washing over you.

“There you go, little one.” Charles whispers, his voice husky with emotion. “Meet your daddy.”

Your daughter seems to respond. She quiets, her eyes fluttering open and meeting his with a gaze that seems impossibly ancient and wise. A faint coo escapes her.

Charles laughs, a joyous sound that fills the room. “You see chérie? Millie loves me already!”

You chuckle, your heart brimming with joy. The initial fear and doubt Charles harbored about fatherhood seem to melt away, replaced by a raw, instinctive protectiveness. He holds his daughter close, rocking her gently, his eyes filled with an unspoken promise to love and cherish her always.

Millie, still slightly pink and whimpering, nuzzles closer to the warmth of his skin. He cradles her awkwardly at first, then instinct seems to take over. He holds her with a tenderness that belies his usual energetic persona, stroking her tiny hand with his thumb, whispering soft reassurances in Italian.

You watch the scene unfold, your heart swelling with pride and love. This man, your partner, the one who speeds around racetracks with fearless abandon, now holds your daughter with such delicate care, such profound reverence. It's a side of him you haven't witnessed before, and it's breathtaking.

He looks up at you, his eyes shining with emotion. “Oh my, she's perfect.” he murmurs, his voice thick. “Just like her mama.”

A laugh escapes you, shaky but genuine. Tears well up again, this time tears of pure joy. You reach out, and he carefully transfers your daughter to you, placing her skin-to-skin on your chest. The warmth of her tiny body against yours is instant comfort, a connection unlike any other.

In that moment, everything else fades away. The pain, the exhaustion, the initial anxiety about how Charles would react – all vanish. All that remains is the three of you, an incredible bond forming in the quiet hospital room. This is the start of your journey, a journey filled with challenges and triumphs, but you face it together, a family united by love.

****

The weeks that follow are a whirlwind of sleepless nights, endless diaper changes, and the constant wonder of watching Millie grow and change with each passing day. Charles, true to his word, throws himself into fatherhood with the same passion he brings to racing. He learns to swaddle like a pro, sings lullabies in his surprisingly off-key voice, and develops a sixth sense for anticipating her needs.

The initial challenges you anticipated regarding his racing career never materialize. In fact, having his daughter seems to fuel him further. He dedicates his wins to her, to both of you actually, her tiny name adorning his helmet, and the fans seem to love the image of the champion racer who's also a devoted dad.

Of course, there are bumps along the road. Juggling parenthood with demanding careers takes its toll. Sleep deprivation becomes a constant companion, and arguments erupt over who gets to hold the baby during the rare moments of peace. Yet, through it all, your love for each other and Millie remains the anchor. You learn to compromise, to communicate openly, and to find humor even in the midst of exhaustion.

One evening, as you sit huddled on the couch, nursing Millie to sleep, Charles turns to you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lamp.

“Remember when we were worried about how things would change?” he asks, a chuckle in his voice.

You smile, memories of those early anxieties flooding back. “Yeah, we were pretty naive, weren't we?”

He nods, pulling you closer. “Absolutely babe, but now looking at her, I wouldn't trade this chaos for anything in the world.”

You gaze at your daughter, her peaceful breaths filling the silence. “Me neither.” you whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She's our little miracle, our perfect storm.”

He kisses your forehead, his lips warm and tender. “And we're her team, amore. We'll face whatever comes our way, together.”

The weight of his words rests upon you as you watch Millie sleep. A comfortable silence descends, punctuated only by her rhythmic breaths and the soft hum of the nightlight. You feel a surge of pride, not just in Millie, but in the family you've built together.

“Remember when her first smile was just a tiny twitch of her lip?” Charles asks, his voice hushed and reminiscent.

You laugh softly, recalling the hours spent trying to elicit a response, the sheer joy when that tiny smile finally appeared. “And how she cried for an hour straight when we tried to give her a bath for the first time?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Chaos incarnate, love.” he says, his eyes twinkling with affection. "But wouldn't have it any other way.”

You nod, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Me neither. These sleepless nights, the endless diaper changes, it all feels so insignificant when she looks at us with those big, curious eyes.”

Suddenly, Millie lets out a soft coo, her eyes fluttering open. She fixes them on you, a gummy smile spreading across her face.

“See?” Charles whispers, reaching out to touch her cheek. “Millie knows how much we love her.”

He lifts her gently, cradling her close, and you watch as their daughter nuzzles into his chest. A lump forms in your throat, a mixture of love and gratitude washing over you. You've faced challenges, navigated uncertainties, but the core of your bond has remained strong.

“We're doing alright, aren't we?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

He looks at you, his gaze tender. “More than alright, amore. We're building a life, a family. And it's beautiful.”

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a gentle kiss. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the warmth of your love and the soft breaths of baby Millie sleeping, you know that the journey ahead, though filled with its own challenges, will be an adventure worth taking, hand in hand.

charles_leclerc

liked by ferraristyle, maxverstappen1, sebastianvettel and others.

charles_leclerc mama and little millie 🩷🩷🩷 oh ma petite fleur, you don't know how happy you have made us with your arrival, you are the prettiest and smallest thing we have ever seen!! I promise to take care and protect you both, because you deserve it 💗💗 ynusername you have made me the happiest man in the world, thank you so much my baby love 💗💗

tagged ynusername

ynusername you will definitely make me cry 😭😭🥺 Oh love, it's nothing, she has a little piece of both and that makes her perfect 💗💗💗

charles_leclerc okay now I'm the one who's going to cry 😭😭 I just love you my sweet baby

scuderiaferrari welcome to the team Millie 🩷🩷🩷 we're going to spoil you a lot!!

landonorris so... They can spoil her and not the F1 grid?

ynusername yup, it's like this 🤷🏻‍♀️

user3 not her using Charles' quote, she knows

pierregasly aww, she's so pretty 🥺🥺 congrats bro 💗💗

leclerc_pascale aww, ma petite étoile 🩷🩷 (aww, my little star)

ynusername maman!! nous t'aimons tellement, Millie veut te rencontrer 🩷🩷 (mom!! we love you a lot, Millie wants to meet you)

leclerc_pascale Je parie que tu le fais, chérie 🩷🩷 (I bet she does, honey)

user5 oh god, all of them using pink hearts, they are so so cute 🥺🥺💗💗💗

[unabashegirl]

my best friend's dad | part 1

Y/N and Scarlett Styles are best friends in college. They share everything even their plans for Spring Break. They have a trip to Bahamas planned. Everything takes a turn when Scarlett is unable to fly, and Y/N is forced to coexist and interact with Scarlett's dad.

Author's note: hello everyone, i hope you are all having a lovely night. As promised, here is a two-part one shot. I tried to make it one part, but as I wrote I realized I needed to give more context and build up the tension between Harry and Y/N.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the second part (+4K words) and much more :) thank you beforehand!

word count: 6.9K

warnings: talk about smut

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

From the very first day, Y/N had doubts about the career she had chosen to study in college. To be truthful, she had picked journalism because she admired how polished the reporters looked on the news. Her uncertainty vanished the moment she met Scarlett Styles at the end of her freshman year. Meeting Scarlett made it all worthwhile. They met in one of those classes that was just a filler for the syllabus, where no one ever attended and the professor didn’t seem to care, giving everyone the same grade.

Since freshman year, they had been inseparable. Y/N admired Scarlett in many ways. She loved how Scarlett stood up for what she believed was right, fighting with grace and facts. Scarlett influenced Y/N and helped her gain the confidence she lacked. She was much different from her freshman self.

"Alright, what do you think?" Y/N asked as she finished tying the side strings of her bikini bottoms. "Be honest." Y/N had Facetimed Scarlett for the approval of her outfits for their upcoming trip.

"Love it. That's definitely your color. How many are you taking?" Scarlett was in England, having flown back home to see her grandma and meet her youngest cousin before flying to the Caribbean to meet Y/N.

"Ten?" Y/N asked as she wrapped her bathrobe around herself and slipped off the red bikini she had just tried on. "Is that too much?"

"I think that's too little," Scarlett giggled. "I think that's all we’re going to wear for those two weeks."

"Crap," Y/N said, pursing her lips as she looked for more options. "The rest of my bikinis are too skimpy. I might have to buy more."

"Just take those," Scarlett rolled her eyes, looking at her best friend through her phone. "Stop spending money. Your mom is going to have a heart attack when she sees the credit card bill."

"I can't! They're too tiny! Your dad is going to be there," Y/N complained as she held up one of the smallest bikinis. "I want to make a good impression. He’s going to think I’m a whore."

"Please! My dad is probably going to be locked up in the house, designing and drawing. We’re barely going to see him."

"Fine, but you have to stick up for me when he kicks me out of the rental for nudity," Y/N said, laughing along with Scarlett, who knew her father was likely too busy to pay attention to their outfits, even on vacation.

Y/N continued her packing, occasionally glancing at the screen to see Scarlett’s reactions. After sorting through a few more outfits, she plopped down on her bed with a sigh.

"I'm so excited," Y/N said, smiling at Scarlett. "A much-needed break."

"From all the partying," Scarlett laughed. "I'm actually looking forward to some quiet time away from all the nonsense."

"Have you talked to him? Has he texted you?" Y/N asked, referring to Scarlett's boyfriend, Henry. They had a fallout two days before the break when Scarlett told him he couldn’t go to the Bahamas with them.

"He's still giving me the cold shoulder," Scarlett shrugged, trying to act like she wasn't hurt, but Y/N could read her too easily. She could tell Scarlett was hurt and disappointed. "I’m just not ready for him to meet my dad. Why is it so hard for him to understand? He means everything to me. I don't bring every guy I date to meet my dad. It's disrespectful."

Henry and Scarlett had started going out four months ago after meeting at a dorm party.

"His reaction is very childish if you ask me," Y/N said. She could tell that they weren't going to last. Scarlett hated being restrained or forced to do something she didn’t agree with. "He’s your dad. You choose when is the right time to meet him."

"I feel like he's just using the excuse of meeting my dad to tag along on the trip," Scarlett revealed. "Why would he want to meet him when we’ve only just met?" Y/N nodded; she had thought about it too but had refrained from saying it.

"Time will only tell, Scar." Her best friend only nodded. After they hung up, Y/N felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. She finished packing and went straight to bed.

The day of the trip finally arrived. Y/N was getting some much-needed coffee and a snack when she was interrupted by a call from Scarlett.

"I'll never understand why people can be so slow through the TSA—"

"Y/N, please don’t kill me," she interrupted, her voice filled with urgency. Scarlett had a knot in her throat.

"What? What happened?"

"They aren't letting me board the plane. My passport expires in less than six months." She was embarrassed; nothing like this had ever happened to her. Scarlett usually checked everything multiple times. However, the one time she hadn’t was last night. "I've talked with my dad, and he's calling some people, but I'm going to miss my flight and probably the first week of the trip until I can renew it."

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water on her. She was disappointed and felt like crying.

"Y/N? Are you still there?"

"Y-yeah," she cleared her throat, noticing that the barista was calling out to her. It was her turn to order. Y/N stepped aside and allowed the next person to go before her. She was no longer thirsty or hungry. "So, I’m just going to find someone to get my luggage back and go home."

"What? You aren’t going to get on the plane? Why not?"

"What am I going to do without you?"

"Relax, read a book, listen to music, get a tan and a massage, and wait until next week for me to get there. Don’t be silly," Scarlett stated the obvious. She was just calling to let Y/N know the reason for her absence, but that didn’t mean the entire trip was canceled. She was just going to be late.

"I don’t know, Scar…"

"I am not taking no for an answer, Y/N. You spent way too much money on your seat on that plane. You opted out of eating quite a few times just to be able to afford it. My dad is already there, so you won’t be completely alone."

Y/N sighed, feeling torn between her disappointment and Scarlett's insistence. "Okay, you’re right," she finally conceded. “but please hurry up”

“I will. I’ll miss you,” Scarlett replied. “I promise I’ll get on the flight first out as soon as I get my passport sorted. In the meantime, just try to enjoy yourself. It’s the Caribbean, after all.”

Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to normalize her pulse after the panic attack that she had started having.

“I’ll try my best.”

“That's the spirit. Give my dad a hug for me and have a safe flight. Text me when you land”

“Love you. Bye”

After hanging up, Y/N forced herself to focus on the positive. The trip was a chance to unwind, and she needed to make the best out of it. She ordered her coffee, though her appetite hadn’t quite returned and headed towards her gate.

Y/N boarded the plane and found her seat and after stowing her carry- on, she settled into the window seat, gazing out at the bustling airport below.

Just as she was about to pull out her book, a tall, handsome man appeared beside her. "Looks like I'm your seatmate," he said with a friendly smile, gesturing to the seat next to her.

Y/N smiled back, noticing his warm hazel eyes and easygoing demeanor. "Great, nice to meet you," she replied.

"I'm Anthony," he introduced himself, extending a hand.

“Y/N," she said, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you too."

As the plane took off, they struck up a conversation. Anthony was friendly and easy to talk to, and Y/N found herself enjoying his company. They talked about their reasons for going to the Bahamas, shared travel stories, and laughed about the little quirks of airplane travel.

"So, what's bringing you to the Bahamas?" Anthony asked after the plane reached cruising altitude.

"I'm meeting a best friend for spring break," Y/N explained. "She got held up with a passport issue, so I’m flying solo for now."

"That’s a bummer," Anthony said sympathetically, “I am also heading there for spring break with some friends. Maybe we’ll run into each other again. What are your plans for the trip?”

“A bit of everything, I guess. Relaxing, exploring and trying out some local food. You?”

“Pretty much the same. We’re staying at a resort, but I’m hoping to see more than just the touristy spots. I’ve heard the local culture is amazing.”

They continued chatting, sharing their interests and dreams. Anthony told her about his job in marketing, his love for surfing, and his plans to travel more. Y/N opened up about her studies, her passion for writing, and her excitement for the upcoming trip.

As the plane began its descent, Anthony turned to her with a smile. “Let me give you my number. In case you ever want to join us”.

"Sure," Y/N said, smiling back. She handed him her phone, and he quickly entered his contact information.

“Feel free to text me if you want to hang out” Anthony said, hanging her phone back. “And if you ever want to try surging. I am your guy”

"I might take you up on that," Y/N said, slipping her phone into her bag.

Once the plane landed, they gathered their belongings and headed towards baggage claim together. "It was really nice meeting you," Y/N said as they reached the terminal.

"You too, Y/N. Have a great time, and hopefully, I’ll see you around."

"Definitely," Y/N replied, giving him a wave as they went their separate ways.

Scarlett had arranged for a driver to pick them up, so after she collected her luggage, she met with him by the exit doors of the airport.

As Y/N exited the bustling airport, she was greeted by a warm, tropical breeze and the vibrant colors of the Bahamas. Her driver, a cheerful man named Marcus, welcomed her with a friendly smile and helped load her luggage into a sleek black SUV. Once she was settled in the backseat, they set off toward the villa where she would be staying with Scarlett’s dad.

The drive began with a stretch through Nassau’s lively streets, brimming with a mix of local culture and tourist attractions. Y/N watched as vendors sold fresh fruits and handmade crafts from colorful stalls, and locals mingled with visitors in an atmosphere buzzing with energy. The smell of jerk chicken and conch fritters wafted through the air, making her stomach rumble in anticipation.

As they left the city behind, the scenery shifted to a more serene landscape. Palm trees lined the roads, their fronds swaying gently in the breeze. The vibrant turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea came into view, sparkling under the bright midday sun. Y/N marveled at the clarity of the water, so inviting that she could hardly wait to dive in.

They passed through quaint villages with charming pastel-colored houses, each with its own unique character. Children played in the yards, and neighbors chatted over fences, giving the area a warm, community feel. Y/N felt a sense of calm wash over her as they continued along the coastal road.

Y/N nodded, taking mental notes of places to explore once Scarlett arrived. The drive continued, and the road wound through lush tropical forests, alive with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, adding to the sensory delight.

As they neared the villa, the landscape became even more picturesque. The road led them up a gentle hill, providing breathtaking views of the ocean and the surrounding islands. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything.

Finally, they arrived at the villa. It was a stunning, two-story retreat perched on a cliff overlooking the sea. The architecture blended modern elegance with tropical charm, featuring large windows, spacious balconies, and a thatched roof. The garden was a paradise of vibrant flowers, exotic plants, and a sparkling infinity pool that seemed to merge with the ocean beyond.

Marcus helped Y/N with her bags and guided her inside. The interior of the villa was just as impressive as the exterior. The open-plan living area was filled with natural light, and decorated in soothing, coastal hues of blue and white. Comfortable, stylish furniture invited relaxation, and the large glass doors opened onto a terrace with panoramic ocean views.

That’s when she heard a heavy British accent say, “she is here. I’ll call you later. Let me know what they say. I love you”

Harry, Scarlett’s dad appeared from upstairs. “You must be Y/N” he said, walking over to her. “I am Harry. Welcome to our little paradise”. To say that Y/N’ was beyond surprised was an understatement. Slightly sunburned from a day in the Caribbean sun, his skin had taken on a warm, reddish hue that only accentuated his natural good looks. He was shirtless, revealing a toned, athletic build, with tattoos peeking from various places on his chest and arms. His swim trunks hung low on his hips, showcasing a casual, relaxed style. Harry’s tousled hair, still damp from a recent swim, fell in soft curls around his face, and he wore a pair of sunglasses that added a touch of mystery to his striking appearance. His easy smile and confident demeanor made him all the more attractive, embodying the perfect blend of laid-back island vibes

She had expected someone older and more conventional, not the youthful, charismatic man before her. He looked far too young to have a college-aged daughter.

“Hi,” Y/N replied, feeling a bit fluster. “Thank you for having me, Mr. Styles. It’s so beautiful here.”

“Call me Harry” He laughed softly, a sound as charming as his smile. “I hope you’ll feel at home”.

As he spoke, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the easy confidence with which he carried himself was undeniably attractive.

She suddenly felt self-conscious, acutely aware of her travel-worn clothes and the fact that she probably smelled like the airplane. She smoothed her hair, hoping she didn't look as tired as she felt.

Harry seemed to sense her unease. "Long flight?" he asked kindly.

"Yeah, a bit," Y/N admitted, feeling a little dirty and disheveled beside him.

"Well, I can imagine you might want to freshen up. Your room has a great view and a nice big bathroom. Why don't you get settled in, and we'll have some lunch out here later?"

"That sounds perfect," Y/N said, grateful for his understanding.

Harry gave her a reassuring nod. "If you need anything, just let me know. Scarlett speaks very highly of you."

"Thank you," Y/N said, touched by his kindness. "I really appreciate it."

As she turned to head to her room, she caught herself glancing back at Harry, who had returned to lounging by the pool. His relaxed posture and the way he effortlessly fit into the tropical surroundings only added to his allure. Y/N shook her head, trying to focus. She was here to enjoy a vacation with her best friend, not get distracted by her best friend's dad, no matter how attractive and intriguing he was.

Once in her room, Y/N took a deep breath and started unpacking. The luxurious surroundings helped her relax, and as she stepped into the shower, she let the cold water wash away the travel grime and her lingering nerves. She knew this trip was going to be full of surprises, and meeting Harry was just the first of many.

After a refreshing shower, Y/N felt revitalized and ready to embrace the beauty of the Bahamas. She rummaged through her suitcase, deciding on an outfit for the evening. With a bit of confidence restored, she picked out a vibrant bikini that Scarlett had convinced her to buy. It was a flattering shade of coral that accentuated her curves and complemented her complexion. The bikini top offered just the right amount of support, enhancing her figure without being too revealing.

She took her time getting ready, applying a light layer of sunscreen and letting her hair dry naturally into soft waves. Y/N gave herself one last approving look in the mirror, feeling much better than she had after the flight. She slipped into a flowy cover-up and grabbed her favorite book before heading downstairs.

As she walked through the villa, she could hear the faint sound of music and the gentle hum of conversation from the terrace. Stepping outside, she saw Harry lounging by the pool, sipping a drink and reading something on his tablet. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening slightly as he took in her appearance.

“Better?”

Y/N nodded, feeling a rush of warmth feeling embarrassed by her appearance earlier.

“I though I’d take your advice and relax by the pool for a bit.” As she placed her book on the sunbed, just so she could let her cover-up slip off, revealing her bikini. Harry’s appreciative gaze didn’t go unnoticed and she felt a surge of confidence.

“Good” he replied, gesturing to the sunbed next to his. “I hope you applied some sunscreen. The sun here is ruthless”

“I did” She smiled and settled onto the sunbed, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. She opened her book, trying to focus on the words, but she couldn't help but steal glances at Harry. He was even more attractive up close, with his sun-kissed skin and the tattoos that peeked out from his swim trunks. The way he effortlessly exuded confidence and charm was captivating.

"Good book?" Harry asked, breaking her reverie.

"Yeah, it is," Y/N said, trying to sound casual. "I’ve been meaning to finish it for a while.”

"What's it about?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"It’s a mystery novel," she explained, holding up the cover for him to see. "Keeps me on my toes.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves and the tropical breeze creating a soothing backdrop. Y/N felt a sense of contentment she hadn't expected. The rest of their first day was spent by the pool. Harry excused himself after dinner to work. On the other hand Y/N stayed outside to watch the sunset on her own.

“What are you working on?” Y/N asked the next day as she noticed Harry picking up his tablet and stylus.

“Designing a new building” Harry was the owner of an architectural firm. He spent most of his days, leaned over his design table, drawing.

“What kind of building is it?” Y/N said, genuinely impressed.

"It’s a mixed-use development," Harry replied, turning the tablet so she could see the screen. "It’s going to have retail spaces on the lower levels and residential units above. The idea is to create a community where people can live, work, and play all in one place."

Y/N leaned in closer, sliding her sunglasses down, admiring the detailed sketches and blueprints. “What’s your vision for it?”

Harry’s eyes lit up as he began to explain. “The design focuses on sustainability and integrating green spaces. There will be rooftop gardens, lots of natural light, and energy-efficient systems. I’m trying to create something that not only looks good but also feels good to live in.”

Y/N could hear the passion in his voice as he spoke, and she was fascinated by his creativity. “It sounds truly special”

“I hope it is” Harry said, smiling appreciatively.

Y/N watched as Harry continued to draw, the lines and shapes forming into intricate designs under his skilled hand. "How did you get into architecture?"

“I’ve always loved drawing and building things," Harry said, leaning back and gazing at the horizon. “When I was a kid, I’d spend hours with sketchbooks. It just felt natural to pursue architecture. I studied it in college and worked my way up through different firms before starting my own. How about you? What are you majoring in?" Harry asked, his tone genuinely curious.

Y/N frowned slightly, feeling a twinge of disappointment that she didn't share the same passion for her career choice as he did. "Journalism," she replied with a hint of hesitation, her gaze momentarily drifting away. She took a deep breath, feeling a pang of uncertainty as she compared her own career path to Harry's evident passion for architecture.

"It's... it's something I chose because I thought it would be interesting," she admitted, her voice tinged with a mix of honesty and self-reflection. "But lately, I've been feeling like maybe it's not what I'm truly passionate about."

Harry listened attentively, his expression thoughtful. "I understand," he said gently. “It’s okay. You are still young and it takes time to find that passion. Have you though about what inspires you?”

Y/N nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I've always enjoyed writing and telling stories," she admitted. "But I haven't found that one thing that really lights a fire in me, like architecture does for you."

Harry smiled warmly. “Don’t beat yourself up for it. You still got a long way ahead of you and sometimes that passion reveals itself unexpectedly” he said.

Y/N felt a weight lift off her shoulders as she listened to Harry's encouraging words. She realized that she didn't have to have everything figured out right away. This trip, with its new experiences and conversations like this one, was already helping her see things from a different perspective.

After a while, Harry put down his tablet and stretched. "I think it’s time for a swim down at the beach. Care to join me?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "Sure, why not?"

They made their way through a winding path bordered by lush foliage, leading to a secluded stretch of beach that seemed untouched by the usual tourist crowds. The soft sand greeted their feet as they approached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of the waves creating a soothing soundtrack. Harry glanced around with a smile.

“Breathtaking as always” he remarked, gesturing to the pristine beach.

Y/N nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over her. The beach was indeed stunning, with its turquoise waters and powdery white sand stretching into the distance. It felt like a hidden paradise, far removed from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

"I can see why Scarlett loves it here," Y/N said, taking in the beauty of the surroundings.

The next day dawned with a soft, rosy glow creeping over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. Harry woke before the sun, as was his routine, slipping on his running gear quietly so as not to disturb the peacefulness of the villa. He tiptoed downstairs, the floor cool under his feet, and headed for the front door. As he passed through the living room, he glanced out onto the terrace.

There, on one of the sunbeds, Y/N lay curled up under a blanket, her silhouette softened by the early morning light. She had fallen asleep waiting for the sunrise, her peaceful expression making her look even more serene. Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He found it endearing

Resisting the urge to wake her, Harry quietly slipped outside and started his jog along the quiet streets. The rhythmic pounding of his footsteps helped clear his mind, but try as he might, thoughts of Y/N kept intruding. He couldn't shake the image of her in that attractive bikini, her laughter echoing in his mind from the day before. It wasn't just her physical beauty that captivated him; it was her warmth, her intelligence, and the easy way they connected.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Harry quickened his pace, pushing himself harder. He hadn't expected to be so affected by Y/N's presence, and he chastised himself for dwelling on thoughts that felt inappropriate given their relationship. He had spent the previous day enjoying her company, sharing stories, and learning about her dreams and ambitions. Yet, now he found himself unable to shake the attraction he felt towards her.

By the time he returned to the villa, the sun was fully risen, casting a bright light over the tropical landscape. Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts as he cooled down. He decided to take a cold shower, hoping the shock of cold water would help clear his mind. As he stood under the refreshing spray, he couldn't help but feel ashamed of his inner turmoil. He didn't want to complicate things or make Y/N uncomfortable during their time together.

He just couldn’t get that damn bikini off his mind. The one she had wore the day before. The red color complemented her sun-kissed skin beautifully, accentuating her curves in all the right places. His hand creeped down and grabbed throbbing cock, trying get some release from the torture that he was experiencing. Her confidence and natural grace shone through, making her even more captivating. He admired the way she moved with a relaxed elegance, her laughter and smiles lighting up the surroundings. Every detail, from the way her hair fell in gentle waves to the sparkle in her eyes as she talked animatedly, only added to her allure.

He couldn’t help imagining her naked, under him, moaning, begging for him. Harry though about how deliciously tight and warm she could feel around him. He thought about how she would taste and his mouth water. He didn’t last long. As he allowed the water to wash him off, he couldn’t help feeling ashamed. Ashamed that he was acting like a schoolboy. He was forty-four years old and fantasizing about his daughter's best friend while she slept downstairs.

part 2

[nadvs]

Started rewatching oth because of basketball rafe 😊 do you think they would ever have a Naley moment where their future together is uncertain and they’re both terrified and sad without one another but have no idea how to make it better or fix it?

aw omg i have been craving an oth rewatch!! naley are one of my fav tv couples ever 🥺

based on this fic

they have times of uncertainty. the roughest patch of their relationship is when he gets an nba contract. they’ve only been official for about five months on the night of the draft, haven’t even said their first i love you’s (the commitment-phobia sticks around for both of them for a while), but they don’t want to throw away what they have so they’re determined to stay together.

she still has a year left of college, so she stays put while he moves to a city that’s a three-hour flight away. he’s nervous about if they’ll make it long distance because he’s afraid of losing her, but she sees his nerves as him not having confidence in them. because they’re both so on edge, it turns into a nasty fight. they carry that fight for a while because at one point, she said if breaking up is inevitable, might as well do it now because she’s so pessimistic about relationships actually working out for her and he was crushed that she even brought the option up because he has rly bad abandonment issues so he said you were never really in this in the first place.

at one point, both of them think they’re just too alike to make it work because they both have short tempers and fight dirty.

when he leaves, they’re still dating but on really shaky ground, and because his schedule gets so full, he hardly has time for calls. she eventually starts to worry about him being unfaithful because he has all this fame now and that drives them apart even more.

it’s rough. he can’t afford to lose focus so he distances himself. she refuses to be clingy so she distances herself, too. they don’t talk for days and he’s so stressed out that they’re broken up but haven’t said the words to make it official. they take a break without even really deciding to.

and when they start talking again, because he calls her one night after a day off where he finally feels like himself, they’re both angry at each other for being able to go so long without talking. she asks why he didn’t invite her to visit, he says he wouldn’t even have time for her. another long, painful fight.

but like naley, they grow as individuals and as a couple. it’s a lengthy, tearful phone call and she eventually says “can we not jump to blame and to say things just to hurt each other? i think we needed that break.” and he’s hurt that they’d need time apart, but he agrees.

while they’re on the phone, he looks for flights. he can’t leave the city with his training schedule, but he tells her “even if it’s for five minutes, i need to see you. can you come?” and he books the flight for her that weekend. when he sees her at the airport, he actually starts to cry because of the pressure and the loneliness and missing her. it’s taken a toll on him.

he gets recognized by a fan at the airport and it shows her just how much his life has changed and it makes her nervous all over again. she knows it’s best to be direct about it because that’s how they always did things, so she tells him in the car that she knows she’s part of his old life but she hopes she can be in his new life too and it actually breaks his heart hearing her have any worries about that. he knows he fucked up by allowing her to feel that way, but still has issues with his pride because how could she doubt they’d make it work?

they get to his penthouse. he shows her his view and it’s even nicer than when she saw it on on their facetime call. and because it’s been so long, and even though they have so much to talk about, they rush into sleeping together and it’s clear how much they’ve missed each other from the way they kiss and hold each other.

after, they fall asleep. and over food, they have a difficult conversation. they discuss how they should have set expectations for calls or visits. how different their lives are now but it doesn’t mean it just won’t work. how this is just a tough time but they’ll make it.

“so that wasn’t goodbye sex?” he says in a moment of vulnerability. he hasn’t expressed fear of her leaving him in ages. she’s touched that he actually seems hurt by the prospect of a break-up. and she reassures him over and over until he believes her. they fall into an argument again. that’s when they share their first i love you’s. and then, finally, they’re good.

when she leaves, they’re at peace. they’re best friends again. the communication over long distance never gets perfect, but it gets better. every so often, they just have to remember that nine times out of ten, if they’re being grumpy with each other, it’s because they miss each other.

it’s a long, painful talk about if she should move in with him once she graduates, because she gets offered a great internship in her field at home. she still has lingering fears of commitment and she knows how hypocritical that is, considering how many times she’s gotten upset with him for acting like he’s not confident in their relationship.

he’s the one who tells her to just take the internship because he knows she’ll regret if she doesn’t. so, she completes a six month contract. it’s so much harder for her to visit with her new 9 to 5. they argue. they go through silent spells.

soon after, he has a horrible week and admits to her that he’s been off his game, playing like shit because he’s just so tired. she makes something up to tell her boss that she needs a week off for and surprises him and flies to him on her own dime.

he’s so relieved to see her that it’s like he’s breathing for the first time in months.

and they make it work. because they can’t imagine a world where they don’t. she moves in with him after her internship is up. she spends time looking for a job, being a ‘stay at home girlfriend’, and he keeps telling her he makes more than enough for the two of them, but she’s determined to still be independent in some way.

and they have some rough nights. some almost break-ups. but it never actually happens, because they love each other too much. eventually, they don’t have explosive fights anymore. they bicker, but it never gets as bad as it was, because they’re so sure of their relationship and because they grow to become healthier, better people for each other.

[yois2aki]

੭୧ chishiya realizing he's in love with reader... . ۫

chishiya shuntaro x gn!reader (requested)

— warnings: fluff, ooc chishiya, maybe a rough talk at the start, chishiya is just shy and in denial...

— summary: chishiya doesn't like being in love after experiencing it for the first time.

— word count: 1.3k

it's irrational. it's irrational and a waste of time.

chishiya believed he had long ago lost all his will to live. he was barely capable of feeling simple human emotions after viewing firsthand how ruthless those same human beings can be to each other.

children die everyday due to the crazy prices of medicine their parents can't afford. women are abused and sexualized and after speaking up somehow it is their fault. lives are taken away only for the fact that others seem more valuable to the society. people choose money over their own loved ones. he's seen it all throughout his course of life, his job as a future doctor not helping the attempts he would make to distract himself from this reality. this is what made him so emotionally distant.

chishiya couldn't comprehend why people took their lives so seriously, trying their best to make it out alive of the deathly games they were condoned with. anyone could die at any given moment, doesn't matter if they are in the borderlands or not. after all, unless you have money and power, in a few years no one will remember who you were.

he considered altruism useless, prioritizing his own life instead of others. if he could help someone who was at the doors of death with no negative outcome, he'd choose not to interfere, knowing that same person would die sooner or later.

and in truth, you were the complete opposite of him. if he had to define altruism in a word, he would say your name.

you made no absolute sense in his mind. so why did he feel so attracted to your mindset? why did he want to constantly learn more about what you believed in? and why did he feel so different around you?

chishiya had never felt this way about anything. so when he realized how his heart fluttered when you looked his way, or how his smart head unlearned how to properly think when you both had a deep talk, he was nothing more and nothing less than afraid. afraid that what he was feeling for another human being was love, a big flaw in the borderlands.

sometimes at night he'd ponder about how things would have turned out if he had met you in the real world. if things would have been easier there, and if he wouldn't be as afraid.

"do you like them?" kuina asked, straightforward as usual, as he stared endlessly at your back from the other side of the main division of the beach. "if you like them, you should date."

"i don't like them." he replied sourly, not bothering to bat an eye towards kuina, knowing well she'd have an eyebrow raised to show her uncertainty to what he just affirmed. "i just think they're smart, is all."

chishiya knew deep down he was lying, but he couldn't get his mind wrapped around the fact he might be falling for someone, his only visible option at the moment being denial, denial and denial.

"they could die at any moment," kuina said, a hand moving to her dummy cigarette as she kept chewing on it, now her eyes were also on you. "you should tell them about your feelings already."

"i already told you i don't have feelings for them." chishiya rolled his eyes. kuina had always spoke what comes to mind and it wasn't something chishiya liked about her, especially when it was directed towards him.

but he couldn't help but stop for a while, as his mind betrayed him and let his heart take over. was it that obvious? he definitely didn't like you, he just resonated with your standards, that's it. or maybe it was a small crush, and something he didn't want to ponder a lot. he would get over it in about two weeks.

which obviously wasn't true. actually, his admiration grew stronger, but now not only honing on your mental capability, but also your physical features. you were exactly his type, he had to admit.

he could be planning something devious inside his mind, or imagining ways he could make the stupid militants shut up for once. but all it would take was a glance at those sweet eyes of yours, staring deeply right onto his, and that damned cute smile — which he learned to love hate — you give him when you both walk past each other in the halls, that his mind would completely fly elsewhere. all his deceitful schemes he spent so much time and effort coming up with late at night, now long forgotten. everything that occupied his mind being you.

before he could realize it, he was standing awkwardly on one of the halls for the hotel rooms. he was probably going to his own, until you showed up and flashed him a quick smile of sympathy, moving the opposite way from his and paying not too much mind.

it was such a simple activity, something he used to do with his colleagues on the real world, or even with strangers that were having a very nice day. yet his face felt like it was on fire, his heart about to leave his own body, and his legs couldn't work anymore. suddenly your voice was heard from behind, and he could only freeze completely.

"chishiya?" you sounded honest, a bit of worry present on your tone. "are you alright?"

shivers went down his spine as he, for once, didn't know what to say. typically, when someone has a crush, all they want to do is to spend time with them. but for some reason, all chishiya wanted you to do was get out of his way. perhaps it was due to the lack of care he received throughout his entire childhood, but he didn't like this feeling. being in love was terrifying.

but he guessed it had to happen someday. everyone falls in love, and it ended up being his turn. it wasn't something he was used to. love wasn't an exact thing, like maths or biology, that's based off of facts. it all depended. he couldn't predict the outcome by reading your body language or solving equations with an abacus. everything was subjective.

he took a deep breath and didn't move from his position, instead focusing on letting his voice come out as nonchalant as possible.

"mhm." he mumbled, immediately wanting to punch himself in the face.

he bit his lip in embarrassment. no one would ever answer someone with "mhm" after being asked about their doings, especially not him.

"are you sure?" you asked again, moving closer to him to check on his face.

as soon as he heard your steps, he started moving himself, his body betraying his heart. he tried hiding his face with the hood, as he walked slightly faster than you.

it didn't take long for you to notice he probably didn't want to talk, so instead you just stopped and watched his back move further and further from you.

"i'm..." he started, his face turning to the side to let you know he was speaking to you, his feet not stopping. "i'm getting something from my room. goodbye."

and with that you were left alone and confused on that same hall, after he made a turn at a corner and went who knows where. you had never seen chishiya this nervous, but didn't fret too much about it, instead planning on asking kuina what was going on later.

in truth, chishiya had rushed to his bedroom and closed himself inside with the key he created since locking doors wasn't allowed at the beach. his back stuck to the door, as he breathed in and out frantically. he had looked like an idiot and knowing he did it in front of you didn't help.

this was chishiya's first time being in love and according to his analysis, he hated it.

— a/n: CHISHISYSTATYAAAAA </3 the day i write something not cute about chishiya help me because i might not be myself... i love him i need to see him pathetic rn..... hope u guys liked it!

[drdemonprince]

Your post about "transitioning to escape gender but then there's more gender" has been rotating furiously in my mind since I saw it. When I first realized I was trans at age 15, I identified as agender, but I knew I wanted to go on T and get top surgery so I decided it would be simpler to tell everyone I was a trans man and that just kind of became the truth. Now 10 years later I'm sorta starting to feel like I wanna actually be agender again, but the idea of an identity shift like that at my current age is terrifying and idek who I'd tell, or how I'd do it, and I don't think I wanna stop using he/him exclusively, and I have no idea why I'm telling *you* this other than that I'm scared to talk to anyone I know about it because it feels like somehow admitting that I was wrong about the gender I fought like hell to become, even though i don't really think that's the case I think my sense of self might just be continuously evolving... but I just wanna say you talking about having a gender shift like once every several years is helping me process this rn and feel like I'm not faking anything now AND wasn't faking anything before.

Dog i am right there with you. As a kid I always thought gender was bullshit, the coercive nature of it disgusted and scared me and I rebelled against it the best that I could. I loathed being assigned to any gender category, I never identified as a "girl", but I didn't really identify with any other category either. Puberty terrified me (and of course, it does most young people, but it felt like it would only more deeply entrench the category that I was assigned to in other people's minds, it made it more difficult to escape). I had trans friends as a teen but it did not occur to me to transition because there was really no end goal that I wanted to head toward, I just knew what I wanted to avoid and not experience. I coped mostly by degendering my body with a fairly androgynous style and way of presenting myself to the word and mannerisms, but also by starving myself which was not so great, and not sustainable. I considered transness for myself, even trying on a friend's binder and presenting masculinely at certain queer events, but it seemed to me at the time like just another way in which to obsess over gender, a foolish coercive socially constructed thing that i was trying to avoid.

In my 20s, I learned more about nonbinary people and figured that explained things pretty well. I was enamored with the transition journeys of some other trans people, largely trans women more than trans masculine ones (with some trans-effeminate faggot boy exceptions), but I still didn't want to take on all the expense and uncertainty and hassle of navigating the medical system for myself. I didn't think that the pursuit of being happy merited taking on so many risks or fiddling with myself so much. I saw it as an extravagance I didn't deserve, I guess, and I also couldn't locate a target outcome that seemed desirable enough for me. I was still dealing with an eating disorder and recovering from some trauma and didn't really think about my life in the long term. I guess I still don't, haha, whoops.

Eventually I came out as nonbinary, and nobody really gave a shit. There is a lot of useless, solidarity-breaking discourse that happens online about essentially who is "more" oppressed, binary trans people or nonbinary people, and a lot of that fight amounts to the two groups shouting about the ways in which they annoy one another without there being any cogent analysis of power and where oppression comes from (let alone how much those two categories overlap).

But I will say that being a they/them was far more difficult than being a trans guy socially and institutionally, because your identity is completely illegible to every system around you. "binary" trans people struggle under this too, but i have found there are some immense benefits to having a socially and institutionally legible target gender. nobody would fucking actually they/them me. not anyone. not even other trans people and queer people. there were no public gendered spaces for me. there were no spaces for me. there was no way to move through the medical system, professional life, and other public institutions as a nonbinary person. i was still just a cis woman in everyone's eyes. including the people who claimed to support me. and it was massively frustrating.

and so i think ultimately, i took my frustrations with not being at all able to escape coerced gendering as a nonbinary person and combined that with the affinity i do feel for queer men and the general sense of misery i was still experiencing in my life and decided what the hell, i'll round myself up to being a trans guy. i upped my T dose, i dressed more masculinely, i eventually got a super masculine hair cut that really squared off my jawline and got me gendered correctly, and i started more consciously inhabiting queer men's spaces.

and it was pretty dope. for a while. i felt the rush of having gotten away with something. when people effortlessly gendered as male i felt freed at last from the pressure to be a woman. i was no longer being coerced into being something that i was not. i had escaped the enforced category so much that people couldn't even see the history of that category being pushed onto me. there was relief.

but then. as always happens. people made little comments about my handshake being too weak for a man. the hypermasc dudes at the leather bar rolled their eyes at me and all the other effeminate dudes swanning around the bar. the people who picked me up off the apps or at the sauna would always let it slip, eventually, that they had a lot of experience with trans guys, or had most recently been dating all trans guys, and it would make me feel like a stock character to them, yet another category into which all kinds of assumptions had been projected. a type not a person. a few people said my haircut made me look like i was in the military or described me as actually masculine, which was equally jarring because it was so incorrect. people tried to affirm me by saying i was such a dude, i was such a man, i was such a fag, i was such a gay bro, pawing all over me leaving the mark of all their assumptions and oversimplifications behind. i had tried to run away from gender and there i was just BASTING all the time in everybody's goddamn assumptions about gender. trans people didn't talk about it any less than cis people did, they were just as fucking confining to be around.

it honestly feels really dirty. when people try to affirm your gender constantly and can't stop talking about it, when people look past you and see only your body, your history, or the role they have typecast you in, when people use your body as an outlet for their own gender or sexuality explorations, when they keep trying to measure every single facet of existence up into being masculine or being feminine or being toppy or bottomy or any other gendered type, it's claustrophobic.

as a trans man i tried playing this whole gender game and the second i started winning i began to feel even more disgusted with myself. it wasn't a victory or an escape, it was a capitulation. exploring with my identity and presentation has brought positive things into my life and my health has gotten better as a result, and i've made wonderful friends who, like me, are disaffected by this coercive gendering system. so i don't regret any of that. but trying to make myself legible under the existing gendered system was a fool's fucking errand. i wish i hadnt done it to myself and i wish i hadnt had it pushed onto me. to be clear, it was cissexist, binarist society that forced it onto me; even when other queer people coated me in their gendered assumptions that is obviously a byproduct of societal conditioning, and it's conditioning that ive reinforced in my own behavior and outlook toward others plenty of times too. we all do it, and we are all wronged by the existing coercive gender system.

i dont even care how i fucking identify anymore and i have no intention of changing pronouns again or anything, i'm so bored of it, i just actually want off this fucking thing. im not interested in trying to make others understand what i am anymore or in who i am even being simply categorizable, i dont want to obsess anymore over how i am perceived or to attempt engineer my appearance and mannerisms to broadcast an identity to anyone. i dont even want to fuck anybody right now at all because im so sick of how much that's a gender pantomime for people. i want off this fuckin ride man im so done.

it's kind of freeing, to hit this point of complete gender apathy, and i think it is a pretty common stage of identity development for a lot of queer people who have explored multiple identities and roles over time. there is no category that i actually am, or that anyone is, there are just the frameworks that society has given us to work with to understand ourselves, and the ways in which we flatten who we are to be able to make sense of the world using those frameworks. but who i actually am is so much more contextual and mutable than all that. i am a different person in the classroom than i am on the train platform than i am in the bedroom than i am cuddling on the couch than i am when i'm working out than i am when curled up on the floor crying than i am at a big furry convention. who i am continues to change as new people come in and out of my life and age and change and my body alters and as the weather turns. who fuckin knows man it's nothing and everything. i want to let it just be

[s-che]

Monsterhearts 2: Plotting Anti-Plot

Last week I had the fortune to MC (and play) Monsterhearts 2 for the first time as the Dream Library begins a unit on monsters, monstrosity, and monsterfucking which will carry us through November, and boy howdy am I glad we managed to do it. 

For those who (somehow) don’t know, Monsterhearts is a game that bills itself as being about “the messy lives of teenage monsters.” It cites Twilight, Buffy, Ginger Snaps, The Vampire Diaries, and The Craft as media touchstones, it’s not joking when it says that these monsters are 1. messy and 2. teenagers. Monsterhearts is angsty, horny, frightening and, above all else, extremely fun to play. On top of that, Monsterhearts is also one of those games that, if you’re in a certain sector of the indie RPG scene, people will remind you is extremely fun to play all the fucking time. It feels sometimes like every designer I know has a good Monsterhearts story, and as much as Avery Alder’s reputation on a larger stage has been defined by The Quiet Year, I get the sense that for people who like what Monsterhearts is doing it’s an extremely hard game to beat. 

So to be totally honest, I was more than a little anxious MCing for my first time actually playing the game. There’s a sense in which hosting a game which you know is great can be way harder than hosting games you think might be bad — after all, if the session goes poorly, there’s nobody to blame but yourself. On top of that, Monsterhearts moves through some tricky territory: underage sex is a core element of the game, and the eight “Small Towns” (short, pre-prepped settings for quick starting the game) all deal more or less explicitly with histories of racism and colonialism in communities across North America. While these are interesting places to go in play, the idea of taking them on myself as host made me shy away a little bit (and I’m excited in the next session to look at things from a player’s perspective). 

All in all, though, I think the session was a resounding success. I went in with basically no prep and as much familiarity with the book as I could get (not enough to realize the quick reference sheet we were using for the first half of the session was from Monsterhearts 1, but so it goes), relying on the game itself — which leans away from strictly organized plots and encourages you, in true PBTA fashion, to let characters and their needs bounce off each other until the conversation goes somewhere interesting — to get us smoothly into play. I would call my efforts there a mixed success: while Avery has a real skill for writing pedagogically, giving you the explicit frameworks you need to get into play (if you’ve never begun a session of The Quiet Year by reading the rules book aloud to each other, you should go fix that now), the session was hampered a little by some awkward pacing and uncertainty: partially driven by my chronic tendency to waste time on slowly establishing things in one-shots rather than swinging as hard as I can in the first five minutes and letting the players lead from there and partially by player character relationships that lead to clear, decisive actions... which left one of our players bored at work while the other two went off adventuring. We ended up taking a moment, after returning from the normal mid-session bio-break, to chat and refocus ourselves, figuring out where we wanted to go and what we wanted to see in the last hour or so of the session, and then jumping back in and — thankfully — playing hard to reach a strong conclusion. In the end, I’m not interested in tracking down exactly where the first half of our session lost its footing (although I have some ideas for how I could have hit harder as an MC). I’m more interested in celebrating the way the table was able to come together, talk explicitly about what we wanted, and get the game somewhere satisfying for everyone involved. We closed on, among other things: an underwater fight between the Fairy (Mermaid?) Queen and a Kraken-Leviathan-Hellmonster, a throuple sneaking off from a beach party to hook up, and the messy end of a South Jersey summer (complete with a tsunami and a beached whale front of the boardwalk). It was a good time. 

Most striking to me in this moment, however, is the way thinking about Monsterhearts as a plotless game positions both me as MC and the other players. It really speaks to the way that capital-T The capital-C Conversation works in Powered by the Apocalypse games (good ones, anyway) to let play flow not according to the rules of a paced narrative, but along lines of player interest and highly-charged emotional incident. It is, I think, part of what makes all the PBTA games we’ve played in the Dream Library sing (in no small part because we pruned the last unit and didn’t play any PBTA games I think are bad, but that’s a different conversation) and it suits this game — with it’s emphasis on sex and messy desire — extremely well. It also fits in nicely with a point I’ve heard a couple of people make recently: that thinking of RPGs as first and foremost collective narrative engines is, at the very least, a narrow view. 

Anyway, this week I’m fortunate enough to be joined by a new host (hi @jdragsky) so I can check out MH as a player, then we’ve got a couple of two-shots planned for the end of the month before we move on to our next monstrously intimate game: Bluebeard’s Bride. You want in on an upcoming game? Have a link. You want to hear more about Monsterhearts? One of my players wrote up some of her thoughts as well.

Otherwise, well, get out of here. Scram.

[esmiara]

As promised, let me introduce you my two beloved BSD OCs:

Who are they?

Basically, Lewis and Antoine are two friends traveling around the world to discover exciting places while avoiding various government forces (more on that later). Though not related to the main story of BSD, they do know about organisations like Port Mafia and the Agency, mainly from what they heard in the streets and read in the newspapers since they arrived in Yokohama. However, they do prefer to not get anyone involved in their issues, nor do they really want to get involved in anyone else’s.

Lewis Carroll

Based on the author of Alice in Wonderland, Lewis was a man in his thirties with a fancy mind. As a child, he once had a wild imagination feeding his ability Wonderland (again, more on that later) but due to social and family pressure, he got forced upon a path of logic and perfection, now making it hard for him to think outside the box. Thus crushing his past self involuntarily and putting chains on his own mind in order to protect himself from outside complaints. As an adult, he became a plain math teacher for children, with a quite boring life. That is, until he met one certain child in London.

Their meeting

“Draw me a sheep.” said the unknown child out of the blue.

Lewis was stunned. He didn’t knew what to respond at first to this child, which he thought was one of his students. But when he put more thought on it, he didn’t looked like any child he had at the time. Who might have been this strange blond kid with unkept clothes? He decided to learn more about him, worried he may have lost his parents somewhere. However, as they talked, he quickly understood he didn’t had any. He simply didn’t knew about any “parents”. Actually, he didn’t knew much about the world itself either.

“Draw me a sheep!” repeated the child after a while of interrogative discussion about who he was, where he came from etc....

Lewis gently asked why such a demand, as he didn’t want to offend this possible lost orphan.

The boy fell silent. Then spoke again, a sad emptiness darkening his young blue eyes.

“I want a warm friend to bring with me” he simply responded.

Their exchange may have been succinct up to this point, but it was clear to Lewis that he was no normal child. As the boy seemingly didn’t have a name, Lewis gave him the name of one of his most beloved book’s author. The character of that one book simply reminded him of the boy.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

More based on the Little Prince’s main character than the actual author, Antoine was an enigmatic individual with the physical appearance of a young boy. Nobody knows of his real age, not even himself. However, most may have theorized that he at least was around for at least a few decades, if not centuries perhaps. One day found and caught by the french government in his - supposedly - hometown, he had no memories of his time before then, except for some vague fragments. He mostly remembered about this laboratory he was brought in, with a lonely room where he would occasionnally meet strangers dressed in white. Despite the many uncertainties surrounding him, Antoine was still of great interest for scientists. He didn't seemed to physically age at all. Could he hold the secret of cells regeneration or even immortality? They soon found out he did age but at a very slow pace, thus looking unchanged for many years.

Curious about this plausible new ability, they decided to make him meet a young girl, who would share his room from now on. This one girl was quite arrogant at first. Antoine didn't really like her attitude but she was the only other person he could befriend. So they did. They soon became friends. Then they learned more about the truth, may it be this girl's past, snatched from her orphanage to become a lab rat as well, or the whole reason why she was here with him in the first place.

It was all because of the young girl's ability. One that would let her copy another one and make it her own. They apparently wished to make a copy of test subject B612′s power in order to "save it” somewhere and be able to experiment on it without having to risk the boy’s life. But things didn't turned out like they wanted as the girl began to crumble under some unknown sickness. Her body couldn't handle Antoine's ability, so it seemed, and she quickly became unable to move. So she made a promise with Antoine:

“Be my eyes and explore the outer world, okay dumby?” she said, with little breath she had left.

A promise reminiscent of the one where they would explore and see the world together. One where he would do so if she couldn't follow, to make her dream come true even when she became a star.

Their abilities

Little prince

No one really knows the details about Antoine's ability. Everything we know for sure is that his body has a very long lifetime, yet not immortal. He is destined to die of aging one day and is still weak to any wound like anyone else. However, we did notice Antoine's body starts to produce a faint glow whenever he gets sick or when his life is in danger in general. Not that it really helps at all though.

Wonderland

Lewis' ability is a bit complex and confusing, much like Alice in Wonderland's whole world.

In theory, Wonderland is quite simple: it allows its bearer to create anything he thinks to be a nonsense, something that is normally impossible. It could be seen as an area surrounding the user, in which he can create anything he wants, as long as it meets the proper requirements (being a "nonsense").

However, as the whole definition of "nonsense" depends on the user's mind, one could have a hard time creating anything. As such, what could be a nonsense to someone isn't necessarily one for Lewis. He is still quite a peculiar man after all.

A strange man, but with many restrictions on his mind and imagination. As he was forced to think with logic for the most part of his life now, he can't stop asking himself about the specifics of one’s question. Where a visible nonsense would occur, Lewis' mind would subconsciously ponder over what could make it truly real or impossible. If he can't get proper answers to those questions, then it can't happen either.

The beginning of their adventures

As they became much closer as people who somehow understood each other, Lewis began to be more friendly with the child, rather than looking like a mere adult talking to a little one. He saw himself in his struggles. He saw a young mind, much like his own a long time ago, slowly getting crushed by adult's expectations and limiting his own thoughts. He couldn't let the same thing happen twice when they still had a choice. So he encouraged him to get creative and let free of his imagination, with no worries about exterior opinions.

One day however, they suddenly got caught off guard by militaries sent by the french government as well as some members of the Order of the Clocktower, there to retrieve the unknown child for their own purpose instead. It was at that time that Lewis was finally able to make use of his ability once more after so many years. Inspired by Antoine’s naturally spoken nonsense, he unleashed Wonderland in order to escape. This also put a permanent stop to Lewis’ normal way of life, as he now was as searched for as Antoine was. It was time for a involuntary trip around the world, it seemed. But this time, Antoine wasn’t alone anymore.

[ghcstao3]

I hope your day is as amazing as you.

What would happen is soap was Makarov's son who run away to live with his Scottish Aunt? He knows Russian and how Makarov operates and wants to stop it, that is why he joined up. What would happen with the team and Makarov finding out?

Have a lovely rest of the year. I hope it is restful and relaxing

i actually love this prompt so much !! thank you, and i hope you are doing well :)

-

The first thought in Soap’s head upon being passed a photo of his father isn’t of revenge or abhorrence like he thought it might be—it’s wondering if Ghost notices the tremble in his hand as he’s given the picture.

His second thought is that he must have, because Ghost isn’t even looking at the photo pinched between his fingers.

He’s looking right at Soap.

“Makarov,” Price supplies, though Soap needs no introduction. He’s more familiar with the task force’s newest target than he’d like to be.

But he’d been waiting for this. Soap had been surviving out of spite and the hope that maybe one day he might finally reach this point. That maybe he could be the one to put a bullet in his father's skull for all he's done.

Ghost’s eyes continue to bore into the side of his face up until a passive dismissal from Price, and even then there’s a second set of footsteps behind Soap as he leaves the bar.

His shadow only lets him get as far as the elevator of the run-down hotel they're posted up in for the time being, before the emergency stop toggle is pulled just as the doors slide shut and the car moves upward.

Soap is suddenly shoved up against a wall, Ghost's forearm pressed to his throat while a handlerail digs into his spine. He could fight the lieutenant off, he could—but Soap’s senses tell him it'd be futile. That whatever it is Ghost wants from him would be inescapable, inevitable, no matter how hard he tries.

"You know something," Ghost says, barely loud enough to be heard over the blaring elevator alarm. His eyes are intense, dark—and for a moment Soap is in full understanding of the fear Ghost's enemies carry for him.

"Not sure what you mean, sir," Soap replies. And maybe a part of him knows exactly what it is Ghost is talking about, but a louder majority is panicked. Confused.

Soap's throat is squeezed tighter. A threat, from his own lieutenant.

"About Makarov," Ghost grunts. "I saw your face when you looked at that photo. There's something you're not saying, MacTavish, and I reckon you'd spit it out before I make you."

Soap's eyes go wide, never having even thought of Ghost picking up on his expression. Never having even thought there was an expression. He feels his heartbeat jump pace, thumping in his throat as he struggles to swallow. This isn't how he'd imagine telling anyone his place in this. Who he really is.

In all honesty, he hadn't imagined it happening at all, mostly because he wished for it to never have to come up.

But perhaps Soap should've known that Ghost is too smart for that to be possible.

"Don't think you'd believe me if I told you," Soap rasps. He knows it's the wrong answer for Ghost, but he's not quite sure what else he could say.

Thankfully, Ghost doesn't suffocate Soap further, though he doesn't budge his hold yet, either. Not as he hisses, "Try me."

Soap screws his eyes shut, huffing air through his nose to brace himself for whatever reaction he'll receive. For whatever reaction he doesn't want to wait on.

"I'm—" Soap sighs his uncertainty, his voice quivering, "Makarov is my father."

Though Ghost scoffs, Soap can feel some of the pressure on his windpipe mercifully lift. "Bullshit he is. Why would you be hunting him?"

Soap finally begins to scrabble at the thick forearm at his throat. "I ran away when I was old enough. He... he made me do awful things for him, LT, and I—can you please just let me go?" Tears sting the corners of Soap's eyes. "I'll explain everything, I just—"

Ghost suddenly frees him, and Soap doubles over, heaving in gasping breaths as he rubs at his neck and collarbone. The alarm stops ringing as Ghost pushes the emergency toggle back in place, and the car begins moving again.

It's a blur, being led to Ghost's hotel room, but he's appreciative to not have to think about his steps as Ghost drags him along and seats him on the foot of the made bed.

Soap opens his mouth to let his explanation begin tumbling out, but Ghost shushes him before he gets the chance.

"I'm getting Price, Gaz, and Laswell before you say anything," Ghost tells him. "Whether you like it or not, I'm not keeping this secret from the team if it'll help us take down your f—Makarov's operation."

Soap understands, he does—but that doesn't mean it hurts any less to hear the distrust in Ghost's voice that Soap had only recently managed to work away.

Ghost pauses in the doorway, and for a hopeful second Soap thinks he's changed his mind.

"I'm sorry," he says instead, before turning and heading back into the hallway.

The door clicks loudly shut, the electronic lock mechanism resetting. Soap sighs, feeling his shoulders slump uncomfortably low as he waits. He suspects he has a night of storytelling ahead of him, now.

If only he'd been more careful.

*

The team takes in the new information better than Soap had anticipated.

Ghost says nothing the entire time. Asks no questions and offers nothing more than a grunt or huff to acknowledge what's being said. Soap only hopes his walls haven't been permanently rebuilt.

Price takes the information in stride, just as Laswell does. They both ask questions that pertain more so to their current mission, poking and prodding to see if any of Soap's personal intel could help them find more and easier success in the near future.

Gaz sits with him and tells Soap it changes nothing about who he is. That because he's still fighting for the right cause, nothing else matters—not his past nor paternity.

Soap is just grateful that beyond his confrontation with Ghost in the elevator, no rash decisions have been made otherwise in the face of this revelation.

But after everything—Soap just wants to sleep. He just wants space.

It takes longer than Soap would’ve liked for it to happen, but it does eventually. He’s finally allowed to leave the room and shuffle to his own, though not before Price catches his arm in the hallway, once Gaz and Laswell have both disappeared, Ghost’s door having long since been shut.

“This isn’t to say I don’t trust you to do it,” Price says, “but if it comes down to it, Soap—you can’t hesitate.”

Can’t hesitate to kill Makarov, Price means.

“Of course, sir.” Soap nods. In no world does he need to be told to take action. “I understand. No second-guesses.”

Price hums. “Good,” he says, and pats Soap’s shoulder. “Now rest up, sergeant. Lots of work still to do.”

Soap nods again and bids Price goodnight before finally slipping into his own room. He barely takes the time to toe off his shoes and shed his jacket before collapsing onto the bed, more than ready to curl up and sleep for an eternity.

But alas, as Price had said—there’s still plenty left to do.

[bibibbon]

*JJK LEAK SPOILERS, please ignore if you haven't seen them*

THE QUEEN IS BACK

I have seen the leaks and chapter translation and while yes the queen is back (I do have some concerns and problems with the way gege executed this)

It makes sense for nobara to come back and we have been teased from the begining that there was a clear chance that she could come back ever since she died. Nitta says that while she died and doesn't have a heartbeat she very much could be revived if she got help in time (and he literally suspended her condition at the moment)

The problem is that it took gege a really long time to actually bring her back or imply that she is alive, approximately 4 years and a 100+ chapters for her to come back.

Chapter 144 and chapter 210 were from yuji's perspective who didn't know nobara's fate and we never got actual confirmation of her fate (all we got was yuji missing her) in asking about her.

These are good moments in my opinion that definitely adds uncertainty and show how nobara's "death" has effected characters like yuji and even megumi (a bit).

However, the problem comes in from other characters. Were they aware of nobara's fate? Is that why they didn't comment on anything? Is that why we never saw maki's reaction to nobara's death? Or is that why we never saw Gojo ask about nobara after he escaped the prison realm? Or is that why we don't see much of the second years reactions about her in general? Is that why we never see yuji say her last words to others? In all honesty I can't help but almost feel like gege may of forgotten about nobara (and just brought her back because he remembered her and she is a fan favourite just like he did with Todo)

I have talked about the wasted potential of nobara's character here and the direction I think would of been suitable for her character.

I think we should of gotten more hints about nobara coming back and being alive in the manga (Iam aware some may say we have gotten clues but they're all in arts and not inside the manga) heck i think we should of gotten confirmation that she was alive and working in the background while the others thought that she was dead (I love a bit of dramatic irony within the story and it definitely adds stakes without having anyone dead)

Other than that I really enjoyed her first appearance around the characters specifically what she said to itadori and how it's a clear reference to when itadori first died and came back. I also enjoy the fact that we are getting to see her back and using her cursed technique however, i still hate the fact that she miraculously woke up 30 minutes ago when the plot needed her most (it would of been better if she woke up and went back to her home town found out something about her CT and done more self digging then came back to help with the fight after seeing mei mei recording it)

Lastly, my biggest worry is how gege is going to handle her character development (theres only 4 chapters left ) and tie in the loose ends like the thing about Jujutsu society hating women with scars and how nobara did value her beauty (jjk could very much delve into the insecurities she may have or her actually going back on the things momo told her and learning a lot more about intersectionality feminism instead of the girl boss one that she displayed earlier on in the story) I also think it would be interesting to handle nobara maybe feeling left out like shoko in her trio (and how that cycle might change)

[desertfangs]

“ how did you get this scar? ” (for Daniel/Armand if you're still accepting!)

I know it seems like I forgot these but I'm swear I'm still working on them! Work has been a beast and also I'm in the process of moving (!!) so my life is sheer chaos rn. Anyhow, this prompt inspired this little slice of life moment and I hope you enjoy it! It's about 1075 words.

Daniel shifts in the bed, groggy and half-asleep, but as he turns over, he brushes against Armand, who is still there beside him. He’s laying on his side, his amber eyes watching Daniel with a stark intensity, auburn curls stark against the white pillowcase. 

It’s not the first time they’ve shared a bed but it’s the first time since they arrived in London, since Armand gave him an electric taste of his blood and he stopped running. It feels strange, somehow, but also comfortable. 

“Hi,” Daniel says, since Armand is still staring at him. Armand says nothing. Daniel feels that familiar twinge of uncertainty. “Sorry, I must have fallen asleep.” 

“You always get groggy once you’ve reached completion,” Armand says. 

Daniel laughs, delighted by the fact that he knows that about him. Such an intimate thing to say! Four years of running and yet Armand knows him better than anyone else. 

“Yeah, well, your touch is soothing.” He reaches over and rubs Armand’s arm, his warm fingers dancing over the vampire’s cool, pale skin. Armand smiles at him. It’s such a warm, genuine smile that Daniel’s heart soars. 

Daniel moves closer and kisses him, their tongues entwining. When they part, he sits up, leaning against the headboard. A thin sheet covers his legs and hips, though at this point, Armand has seen every part of him too many times to count. “Do you ever sleep in a bed? In the daytime I mean?” 

“No,” Armand says. The smile slowly fades from his face. He looks at the window so Daniel looks at the clock on the bedside table. It’s almost five am. Still early. Late. Whatever. There’s time before sunrise. 

“Always a coffin then? Or a casket? There’s a difference, isn’t there?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yes to which part?” Daniel asks, exasperated at how Armand can say so little, even now that they’re sharing a bed and apartment. Well, during the night, anyhow. And during the day, Daniel is usually passed out and Armand is sleeping god only knows where.  

Armand sits up and smooths his hand down Daniel’s shoulder, along his torso, and stops at his hip. His hand is cool, the warmth of whatever blood he drank earlier faded from him. His body is rigid but his hands can be so soft and they feel like velvet as they trail over his naked body. Armand stops at Daniel’s thigh, just above the knee. He touches a mark on Daniel’s skin. “How did you get this scar?” 

It’s barely a scar now, just a little white patch just under his knee. But Armand is watching him curiously, waiting for the answer.

“I was seven years old and I was trying to do tricks on my bike. The bike went out from under me and I landed on this piece of broken glass that was in the street. My sister ran and got my parents. My dad grabbed me and stood me up but then my mom saw my leg was covered in blood and screamed. The glass was sticking out of my leg and my mom and dad fought about whether or not to remove it.”

“Did it hurt?” Armand’s finger pokes at the spot, long healed.

“A little. I think I was in shock. We went to the hospital and they took the glass out and then I got stitches. It hurt after, I remember that. But mostly I was scared because my mom was so freaked out and I remember asking if I was going to die, and the doctor laughed but my mom looked like she actually thought I might.” 

He shakes his head at the memory, the way the horror on his mother’s face had tugged something loose inside him, some primal fear he’d never felt before. The silence hangs between them. Daniel grabs the pack of cigarettes from the night stand and lights one. 

“What about you, do you have any scars? Or did you, before immortality smoothed them away?” 

Armand doesn’t answer. He keeps staring at the little white mark on Daniel’s leg. Then he bends down and kisses it, his lips feather soft. It sends tingles up Daniel’s spine. He slides into Daniel’s lap and removes the cigarette from his lips, replacing it with his mouth. Daniel doesn’t complain. He kisses him passionately, letting Armand’s fangs scrape against his tongue as he delves into his cool mouth. He imagines those fangs scraping over his throat, this thigh, his ankle. 

You could scar me, Daniel thinks. The thought is unbidden, the sort of thing that comes to mind in the throes of passion. But the idea of Armand leaving some sort of mark on him with his fangs is hot as hell. He imagines Armand biting him somewhere—the meat of his thigh, his upper arm—and not healing the wound. His pulse races. 

Armand pulls back out of the kiss, his face so close that Daniel can still feel him there. His eyes are huge and he tilts his head, as if trying to figure something out. 

And then he pulls away from Daniel, climbing off of him. He stands and collects his shirt from where Daniel had tossed it on the floor. 

“Leaving already?” Daniel tries to sound casual, like he’s not bothered at Armand having to go, but in truth, his heart aches at the thought. 

Armand nods toward the window. There is more color in the sky and it is inching toward sunrise. Daniel sighs. He wants to go with Armand, to slip into his coffin and curl against him for the day. 

Armand comes back to the bed and kisses him again, his mouth gentle against Daniel’s. “Sleep, beloved. I’ll be back at sunset.”

Armand is gone in a flash, almost as quick as a puff of smoke, like the wisp of it trailing from the tip of the cigarette Armand set, still burning, in the ashtray. He picks it up and brings it to his lips.

He touches his neck where four years prior, Louis bit him. There’s no mark left, no scar, just the memory of Louis’ fangs in his throat, holding him as he drank. No mark from where Armand drank from him just a week ago in Pompeii. And yet both nights sent him careening in a whole new direction and changed his life completely. 

 He thinks it’s funny how something can leave a lasting mark with no outward sign. 

[deepestnightcolor]

Hello! I just recently found your account while searching for alex/reader and love your one-shot of him!!! I was wondering if you could do another of him and reader and their lead up to a relationship? I haven't seen many of fics with and reader sadly wish he had more! And maybe a Lil freaky deaky scene? Obviously no rush or if your not wanting too! Love your sam fics too❤️❤️

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello there!~ Thank you so much for your request and the Alex love! We must admire our athletic king, mustn't we? I have a little something here for you, the freaky deaky scene might follow at some other point! I started it off with somethin' in my mind and then it got all fluff and mushy...I hope you will enjoy either way! <3

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Alex (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 1973 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: we like some good ol' fluff, I have decided.

☾ ᴇɢɢᴇᴅ ☽

Alex had always thought that he would only have three priorities in life: Working out, gridball, and his family. Sure, he had had interest in some people here and there – Hayley, for example. She was pretty, and they sometimes were able to share some good times, but it never seemed to go deeper. Some of the guys in town had also made him curious, yet he always felt… a lack of motivation to pursue things after a while. Nothing enthralled him more than these three priorities, and he was a man of principles, simple as that.

That was until a certain farmer decided to take reign over the old, abandoned farm. At first, he didn’t think much of it. A new farmer, so what? You weren’t even living in Pelican Town, but outside of it. He was pretty certain that you wouldn’t ever really become a big part of the community, living in sticks of the sticks like that. Of course, he was polite when you actually swung by. Nodded his head at you, sometimes he even said “hey”. That didn’t mean he paid much attention to you, though. At least that was what he was telling himself.

Something about you always made his head turn, no matter what. Whenever he caught you out of the corner of his eye, he would crane his neck to get a better look at you. He found it amusing that you ran around town with whatever you had farmed that day, dirt covering your sweet, reddened cheeks and sturdy hands. He would watch you as you went to the beach, just to return with buckets of fish hours later. His eyes followed your path to the blacksmith’s house to get Yoba knows what upgraded or whatever geodes you had found broken open. He decided it was your determination that caught his eyes, nothing more, nothing less. After all, you were building up a ruin of a farm with your bare two hands, filling it with the life it hadn’t seen in years.

That theory didn’t last long, either. It ended when you stopped in your tracks one day and gave him this look. It was one of consideration, of doubt. Yet the fog seemed to lift, and instead of uncertainty, a smile blossomed on your plump lips. You crossed your arms behind your back while you approached the athlete, tipping your head to the side as you stood right in front of him. And fuck, didn’t you look adorable? Alluring, almost, with the way you fluttered your lashes at him. A sense of friendly innocence radiated from you, and it hit him right in the gut. “Hey. It’s Alex, right? I have met your grandparents.” It was unfair, really. Even your voice seemed to be drenched in honey, immediately luring him into a conversation he hadn’t been interested in having. “Yeah, Alex…So, you are the new farmer.”

You gave him a grin; one of the kinds he always found attractive. It was challenging, but still so, so polite. “Have you seen any other person running around with dirt on their cheeks?” Alex whistled through his teeth, cocking his brows at the sudden sass being thrown his way. “Alright, then, I guess that answers it.”

The grin on your face didn’t falter in the slightest, quite the opposite. You seemed to enjoy that you had thrown him off guard, that you had made an impression that he hadn’t expected. You let him simmer in silence for a while, before revealing the egg you had hidden behind your back. Given the way his eyes lit up, you assumed you had hit the nail on the head with that one. “My chicken Cluck and Brood were busy, and now I have some extra. Do you want an egg?” The smile that spread on Alex’s face was big, and you were quite sure that you had seen something shift in him. “Really? Yeah, thank you! They are great sources of protein!” He took the egg with a gentleness that took you by surprise. “Yeah, it is no pro-“ The sound of an eggshell meeting a set of pearly whites shoved your words back down your throat. You watched in horror as the brunet broke the shell of the egg and slurped its contents down his throat. What horrified you even more was the sole fact that he didn’t even seem to find the taste disgusting or off-putting, quite the opposite – he seemed to enjoy the taste of raw egg. Which indicated… that he had done this before. Alex apparently didn’t take note of your expression, or if he did, he was used to it and had decided to pay it no mind; he licked his lips like you would after having your favourite dessert. “That was great, thank you, farmer!” He grinned, giving your back a clumsy smack. “I’ll see ya ‘round.” Alright, maybe Alex had thrown you off guard. Yet that wasn’t a problem, because he had been right in one assumption about you – you were determined.

Alex hadn’t expected for you to return this fast, and what he had been expecting even less was you showing up to him working on his gridball techniques – at least that was what he called it; usually he just threw the ball for Dusty to fetch it, just like he was doing now – but there you were, propping yourself up on the fence and throwing a smile in his direction. For a moment. Alex didn’t quite know what to do, so instead of ending his little workout session, he threw the ball again, waving in your direction. “He can go far,” you noted, shielding your glistening eyes from the sun as you watched the animal chase after the ball with great elan. The brunet grinned a little at your comment, pearly whites showing for a split second. “’Course he can, he’s got a great buddy to train with.” “Huh, is that so?” You asked back, mustering the egg in your hand. “Is so.” “So…you could even train someone as incompetent at sports as me?” That had piqued Alex’s attention. He walked over to the fence, green eyes now falling on the gift you had brought him. “Mh…maybe. You’ve got potential, after all. We would probably need to get you to eat more protein,” he began, thick fingers of a large hand wrapping around the animal produce you were holding out. The egg looked tiny in his hand; it would have been possible for you to become distracted by the way he managed to shrink a large chicken egg to one of the size of a quail’s if you weren’t so focused on the words that were about to tumble out of his mouth. “Maybe you could start out with eggs as well?” There it was, the words you had been anticipating and yet hoping he wouldn’t say them. Still, the way he was seriously considering it as if anyone else in this small town ate raw eggs made him kind of endearing to you. “Oh…uh. Maybe. You know, I will start with…uh, something less crunchy? Leave the eggs to the pros like you?” A grin appeared on his face again, warm palm landing on your shoulder with a small smack. “You get it, farmer.” There was an appreciation in his voice that he would have never expected to carry. But then again, he hadn’t gotten up this morning and awaited a sweaty farmer bringing him yet another chicken egg, had he?

You were working yourself into his routine; slowly, but surely. You weren’t set in stone like his strict workout regime, but he knew that at some point, you would show up. Sometimes you caught him in the middle of weightlifting – he had grown accustomed enough to you to allow you to wander into his room -, sometimes you met him while he was walking Dusty. Talking to you came easier and easier, not that he had any trouble talking to anyone, but he just felt…more comfortable. Finding someone that got him, that didn’t necessarily have high expectations. Someone who genuinely cared. That’s why he was hoping that you would find him today. He was sitting at the beach, cradling a music box that seemed so delicate in contrast to Alex’s broad shoulders, chest, and strong arms. A soft melody chimed from the box, luring him into some sort of trance that he was never able to break free from for some reason. He just had to stare, and stare, and stare. Every now and then he also wondered, wondered if his life could have gone differently, better. He loved his grandparents; he loved them with all his heart! But sometimes… sometimes he wondered if he had had a better chance at life- “Alex? You okay?” Something heavy and warm was placed on his shoulder, making the tall man snap upwards just to see your face. You gave him a smile, one that he had grown fond of in the past months. “Oh, hey.” “Sorry, I didn’t want to startle you, but you didn’t react to all my screaming, so I just- I wanted to check up on you.” Alex gave you a smile. It looked strained, but also so, so lost. It made you sit down next to him slowly, keeping your hand on his shoulder, arm now wrapped around the muscular broadness of his back. Much to your surprise, Alex rested his head down on you, green eyes trained on the ocean, following the draw and pull of the waves. The melody from the music box still filled the air with its soothing gentleness, though also thickening it, leaving the bitterness of memories and hopes that were never fulfilled behind.

Your head slowly dropped on the brunet one’s, allowing him to bask in the silent comfort he seemed to need. At some point, his hand wrapped around yours, a deep sigh leaving his lips. “Sometimes, when I miss her…I come here, playing the music box. It brings back what little of an image I got to create of her…makes me feel close.” You hummed, allowing your eyes to wander about the delicate box. The tune was still playing, the little figurine starting yet another round on its little spring. “And I feel weird about it sometimes. I know she’s gone, after all. So why should I keep doing this?” “Because it makes you feel better, you don’t need any more reasons,” you answered, words l

rolling off your tongue in a velvet “matter-of-fact” voice. Alex seemed to relax a little, his gaze falling back on the box as if he only now had dared to look at it again.

 “See, that’s why I like you.” “Like me?” You asked, genuine surprise coating your words, sticking to them in a way that made it impossible to hide it. It was such an abrupt change of topic – not that it didn’t intrigue you. “Yeah, ‘course. Didn’t you notice?” Well, there had been a change in Alex’s demeanour towards you, like you had hoped. He had been more open, more…interested. There weren’t only talks about him anymore, and he didn’t act like you were a simple source of petulance while he was doing what actually mattered to him. “Huh, I thought I was bad at readin’, and now here you are, suckin’ at readin’ signs.” It was a weak attempt at humour, making your fingers wrap around his more tightly. “You became one of my priorities and didn’t even realize.” Hands closing tighter around one another’s’, you smiled to yourself. “I knew the eggs would get you.”

So maybe Alex did have four priorities, and for once, the thought didn’t make his stomach churn. For once it made him feel settled, and soft. Like he could be soft. Like he deserved to feel.

[tokagedreams]

EDGAR ALLAN POE RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

(a/n: i have soooo many more thoughts about poe bro i love him so much..anyway, fellow poe fans if you have poe requests i am begging you to drop them in my inbox)

pre-relationship

- the two of you met back in america years ago. you guys start out as ride-or-die best friends, you’re the inseparable duo that does everything together. when poe goes to yokohama with the guild, you go with him even if you’re not a guild member.

- you’re an infuriating case of ‘the two besties that are clearly in love with each other but would rather die than confess because they’re convinced their feelings are unrequited when they obviously aren’t’. you’ve basically been acting like a couple for at least a year but somehow you and poe are both convinced that it’s just a friendship to the other person and nothing more.

- both the guild and the ADA assumed you were already dating until poe referred to you as his ‘best friend’ and they’re just like are you fr right now?? 🤨 it’s literally so freaking obvious you two are head over heels in love to everyone except for you and poe. especially if you’re not even in the guild and you moved across the world just to be with poe 💀 ranpo (affectionately) hates you guys because you refuse to believe him when he tells you that your feelings are requited.

confession

- ranpo #1 wingman frfr!! at first he tries to make it happen naturally, but eventually he realizes that’s a lost cause..so he basically forces poe to confess to you because he’s so sick and tired of hearing poe lament about how you don’t love him back when you obviously do!! i could see ranpo being like “i’m not reading any of your new novels until you confess to (y/n) 😈” and that would be the final straw because poe is not about to throw away all his chances of ever beating his rival.

- i think we all agree that poe is a hopeless romantic, but i feel like he would just be too anxious to actually do anything fancy for a confession. he’s probably fantasized about the perfect confession a hundred times, but when he gets pressured to actually do it, all of those plans go out the window because he’s just freaking out lol.

- he’d tell you to come over because he needs to ‘show you something important’, he doesn’t make it obvious that he’s going to confess his feelings at all. so you get to his house and he tells you to wait on the couch while he gathers everything, and you’re starting to get anxious too because you’re like ummm wtf is he about to show me?? poe goes to his office and after a moment of ‘gathering’ (he actually already had his stuff sorted beforehand, he spent the entire time petting karl to muster up some courage), he brings you this giant stack of messy papers and just stands there awkwardly. and you’re so freaking confused until you start reading them and you realize that they’re all love letters and poems about you, written by poe himself. they’re all dated too so you can see that they range from today all the way back to like at least two years ago.

- poor poe is actually sitting there literally trembling while you read, anxiously waiting for you to respond. obviously you tell him you love him too, and he honestly looks like he doesn’t believe it or just can’t process it for a second, you have to kiss him on the cheek or something to get him to register the fact that you seriously love him. but after that he’s like the happiest you’ve ever seen him, he’s hugging you so hard, grabbing your hands and he might even excitedly kiss your face a couple times. this is genuinely a dream come true for him so he can go a little wild as a treat <3

- he owes ranpo so bad after this btw 💀

relationship

- since you and poe had been acting like a couple for a long while before officially getting together, it’s not that hard to get used to an actual relationship. now there’s just a lot less uncertainty and hesitance, you can comfortably do all of the things that you previously chickened out of because you didn’t want to ‘ruin your friendship’. your feelings aren’t a secret anymore, so you both have free reign to be as affectionate as you want to be.

- in terms of love language, i really feel like poe could appreciate any kind of love from you. he might be a little shy about physical affection, and he probably won’t want to do much of it in public, but in private i think he would secretly love it. his favorite type of love to receive from you would probably be words of affirmation, this man needs that praise and validation so badly!! in the beginning of your relationship, he doesn’t know how to handle your compliments, if you’re flirty he will simply explode. he eventually gets more accustomed to it, but he still blushes like crazy and gets all bashful every time you praise him. his favorite type of love to give to you is probably acts of service, just look at how much he bends over backwards to do favors for ranpo in canon lol. he will do literally anything for you!! with his absurd salary and spending habits, you can count on being showered in gifts too, he just wants to spoil you!

- you and poe are definitely one of those couples that enjoys just chilling in the same room doing your own separate things. it will actually make him so happy if you just quietly sit in his office while he writes! maybe after you’ve been dating for a long time he might even have you sit on his lap sometimes.. 😳 since he spends so much time in there obsessively writing new novels to beat ranpo, it got really lonely with just him and karl, so having you there just makes everything better. he also probably doesn’t take very good care of himself when he’s really focused on writing, so he will be eternally thankful if you help make sure he eats, drinks and sleeps enough. he might be the type to say “just one more chapter..” every time you tell him to go to bed, but you can usually persuade him with the promise of cuddles and a kiss goodnight.

- speaking of cuddles when you go to sleep…i am convinced that poe would secretly love being the little spoon!! he’ll of course default to being the big spoon unless you’re somehow taller than him, because that’s kinda just the norm for tall people in most cases. he might even be hesitant at first if you ask him to swap places with you, because he’s likely never done that before, but when you hold him for the first time..it immediately becomes his new favorite thing. it makes him feel so safe and secure and loved, please hold this man!!

- you play with poe’s hair all the time, it’s something you both enjoy because damn he has a lot of hair and it’s really fluffy. you push his bangs back because you want to actually see his eyes for once!! it makes him so flustered because he lowkey feels exposed without his bangs, but if you tell him his eyes are pretty he’ll be like “omg really?? 🥺” and forget all about his embarrassment. it works every single time. when poe is stressed, he often just lays his head in your lap and lets you run your fingers through his hair, it’s very grounding and calming to him. he gets embarrassed if you catch him off guard and just randomly start petting his hair, he tells you to go pet karl instead 💀

- poe is 100% the type of guy to kiss your knuckles or your forehead all the time. he’ll kiss you on the lips too, but it can be kind of overwhelming, so he doesn’t initiate those kisses as often. i think he would like being kissed on the cheek by you a lot, something simple and sweet to brighten his mood. despite being your partner, he still gets nervous to ask you for kisses when he wants them, but he’s honestly pretty unintentionally obvious about it so you can usually tell lol.

- poe gets so embarrassed if you ever read his novels, he knows that you appreciate his writing, but your opinion is so important to him that he gets anxious about it. he usually doesn’t let you read books that he’s written to challenge ranpo until after he’s already shown them to the detective. but you always read them when he gets back home and he’s all mopey after ranpo has successfully solved another one of his mysteries. although he remains determined to continue trying, it’s always a major blow to his self esteem when he loses to ranpo again. so you read the books for yourself so that you can praise him about every specific detail and make him feel better about himself and his work. you may not be his rival or the greatest detective in the world, but you are poe’s partner, so your words are still very meaningful to him.

- poe would definitely call you lots of pet names if you’re comfortable with it. he calls you things like ‘my dearest’ and ‘my beloved’, but he’ll also call you things like ‘darling’ and ‘love’. if you have a nickname, he’ll typically use that in place of your full name because it feels more intimate to him. if you do the same to him, he’ll be so happy! he’s down with being called basically any term of endearment as long as it comes from you, but some may make him more flustered than others. if you shorten his name and call him ‘ed’ it makes him feel so much closer to you.

- poe talks about you all the freaking time! he’s not above straight up bragging about how great his partner is, he constantly feels the need to tell everyone how great you are. hopefully ranpo likes you a lot because my guy has to listen to poe gushing about you constantly lol. if poe ever finds out that you’ve told your friends good things about him, it will warm his heart and make him feel so appreciated. he’s basically never prepared for you to match his extreme passion in your relationship, it shocks him every single time and he can’t believe he actually met someone who loves him as strongly as he loves them.

(a/n: thanks for reading my first fic on this account! i hope you guys like my theme lol, i just wanna be known as the tokage guy who writes bsd fics)

[ninjathrowingstork]

More Renfield potato content but I can't stop thinking about this moment,

Ugh it's the first time he's seen it's possible to stand up to someone that much stronger, even if it means knowing they could kill you she'd rather go down fighting than be paid off and be owned by the mob like the rest of the department

And then

The great war. WWI.

Sure he catches himself and does know recent global events, but it means something that it's the earlier war he thinks of first. If we're basing his age off Dwight Frye's, then he'd have been fifteen when the war started, just turning nineteen when it ended. He grew up during the war that wiped out most of a generation, maybe older boys he'd known. Did young Robert Montague Renfield also join, once he was of age near the end of the war? Did he at all see action in the final years? He'd already lived in a world where he'd feel powerless against the constant death and horror of the war.

And then, being young and studying to be a lawyer in the 20s, seeing the glitz and money and industry rising around him, and then just passing the exams in 1930-31 (in Dracula, Jonathan only learns he's passed as he's leaving to meet the Count) and the early years of the Depression and stock market crash, and he's a young father and trying to make this business deal that might set his career and provide for his family as the market is fading from under him, he's grasping for any way to keep up the career and family and life that a businessman is expected to in his generation, and then. And then he meets this aristocrat who promises him immortality, to not die like so many others he'd known, to have access to prestige and society and wealth that he's craved, if only in exchange for his service. And back then, it was more common for a gentleman to have a valet, after all, and his own father might have employed one himself. But he was also alone, no one else knowing where he'd traveled to and seeing this power and monstrosity from one man, being terrified and weak and isolated he just broke. The person he'd been before was gone, traded for a trickle of physical strength and the status of serving an aristocrat and by the time society rotated and that social power didn't mean as much, it was too late for him to have walked away without being shown that was even possible. He's traded his freedom for the assurance he wouldn't die, wouldn't be vulnerable to the uncertainties of the world he'd grown up in, but he says The Great War because that was the last one he was actually free and a person for.

[serenaoffaerun]

Gale/Thaliel post-first sex brain rot

This isn't a part of any story yet, but might be part of my future long-form fanfic about my wizard-on-wizard playthrough. Just something I've had rattling around in my head.

Also, this is an older screenshot of a different "Tav" in my playthroughs, but when I go to actually write this story, I'll be using ones with Thaliel and even my own artwork.

And so, I present to you: a little post-smut snippet to round out your work week.

No beta reading, no proofreading - we run to the weekend with reckless abandon, friends!!

Note: the sex. It was mind-shattering. 🥵

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gale relaxed on top of Thaliel, both of their sweat-coated bodies glistening in the moonlight. His head rested over her heart, which was hammering just as strongly as his own. While still coming down from their collective ecstasy, he suddenly started shaking, trying to hold back sobs.

As his breath shuddered and he gasped for air, Thaliel stroked his hair gently, saying, "What's this? Honey, what's wrong?"

Gale cries harder.

"Gale, talk to me, My Love, please…"

He whimpers between gasps of breath, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Her mind races with concern as she wraps one arm fully around his back, curling her fingers into his hair with the other hand. "Sorry for what, Sweetheart? Please tell me, it's alright…"

He takes another shuddering breath and chokes out, "I'm sorry for making you wait on me all those years. Those wasted years chasing the wrong path, the wrong person, and wallowing in self-pity… I've wasted so much of our time, My Love, I'm so, so sorry…"

He can't stop sobbing and Thaliel's heart shatters. "Oh, honey, no… No no no, please don't talk like that," she coos into his hair, tears falling from her own eyes now. More sobs continue to rack Gale's body. Trying to breathe through her own tears, she continues running her fingers through his brown and silver tresses, shushing him while rubbing gentle circles into his back.

"Gale, my love, my life's purpose, listen to me."

He takes a deep breath and sniffles.

"Please don't think like that. You and I, we wouldn't be who we are today if we didn't have the chance to live our lives as we have up until now. We may never have met. I might not have continued my wizarding studies, you could have been a different person entirely... Someone without your gentle, caring nature. We wouldn't be here, beside our friends, trying to save all of Faerûn."

Both sniffling now, she pushes his head up so he'll look at her. Through her own tears, she smiles as she caresses the side of his face.

"My handsome, brilliant, dearest love of my life, look at me."

His warm, chocolatey brown eyes, red from crying, gaze into her deep emerald ones, tinged with the same redness. She grabbed both sides of his face and continued in a soft, trembling voice, "If the world were to end tomorrow, I will have had the fullest, most meaningful life I could have asked for, just because of this one day with you." Her voice broke at the end and she couldn't stop her face from crumpling, mirroring his own.

They both collapsed into tears again as he fully wrapped his arms around her and rolled them onto their sides, holding each other with all their might and refusing to let go. They soothed each other through their mix of sadness, fear, joy, and elation with the sounds of dozens of whispered "I love you"s.

As the two lovers laid on a blanket in the grass, they cried out all the emotional weight they'd been carrying: the stress of battle, the uncertainty of the future, the days and nights of pining for each other, unaware of the others' true feelings. It was the most cathartic, restorative cry either of them had ever had, simply because they were together. They had started what would hopefully be long, long journey through the rest of their lives. Together. True partners that had discovered their 'person' to help carry their burdens with them. The one they would cherish and protect and comfort with everything they had. In this vast configuration of time and space, they had finally found each other.

As the sniffles and tears slowed, Gale and Thaliel were lulled to sleep by the sounds of crickets, waves on the shore, and their hearts beating fully and steadily for each other.

[peachy-skies-writings]

Found - Sebastian (SDV) x Reader

You can find on ao3 here.

Summary:

Sebastian x f!Reader where you reminisce about each of the other heart events during the 10-heart event. I suck at writing summaries. But it's cute and it's fluffy and it's here.

----

A/N : So I did a thing. I haven't really written in a while but I just kinda got annoyed that everything is smut on here and on ao3 so I just decided fuck it I'm going to write some fluff.

Might do some more. I won't be taking requests for the time being . I have a full-time job and uni so for now, no requests but I might be open in the future.

Please let me know what you think? I haven't written in a while so any feedback is great :)

Not proofread!

----

To think that it had been less than a year since you had moved from Zuzu City to a little farmhouse in the middle of nowhere had your head spinning. An impulse decision made after the death of your grandfather that could have gone either way. Bile rises in your throat as you think of the anxiety you held in your chest back then.

The uncertainty. The risk. The excitement.

Up until recently, leaving behind Joja Corp and Zuzu City was still something you thought that you’d grow to regret. Farming was a tough life - your knees bruised, your back aching, and your fingers sore from the hard graft. The people of Pelican Town seemed to eye you as you walked into the town with an air of suspicion. After all, who would leave their well-paid corporate job in the big city to come work on their dead grandfather’s run down farm?

Those eyes on you made you feel that your choice was a mistake. Every crop that didn’t grow, every seed stolen by a bird, every fruit or vegetable that looked just a little bit wonky was confirmation enough that you were not meant for this.

The only person who seemed to believe in you was Robin, the local carpenter. You’d stop by occasionally and pass along excess wood that you’d collected while tidying up the overgrown farm. She always greeted you with a warm smile and asked how you were getting along. At first, you thought it was just out of being polite but, as you grew to know her, you realized she took a genuine interest in your work. You met her family too - Demetrius, her husband, and her children, Maru and Sebastian.

Sebastian.

You smiled thinking of him, looking to the man on your right. There he was leaning against his motorcycle and taking a drag from a cigarette. The smell of smoke pulling you into another reverie.

—

The sun was starting to set one day in the early spring and you were making your way to Robin’s house to drop off some extra wood. As you got to the mountains, you saw him standing there, looking out into the flowing river, smoking and paying no attention to the world around him. Almost lost in thought.

You sighed. Sebastian was an enigma to you. He was so closed off. Attractive as hell but you just couldn’t get much out of him. He spent most of his time in his room. You didn’t think you’d ever get the chance to actually meet him.

“Mom’s out at exercise class.���

Turning your attention back to the house you go to open the door, only to find it’s locked.

“Shit.” you exhaled.

You jump upon hearing Sebastian’s voice behind you, dropping the few logs you had.

“Oh, sorry…” He mumbled.

“No need, I’m just a little jumpy with it starting to get dark. Sorry for throwing logs at you.” You excused him, as you picked up the logs at his feet, and placed them beside the door for Robin.

“It’s okay.”

You smiled at his forgiveness and looked at him, gawking at him for probably longer than you should. He was relatively tall, with deep brown eyes that felt like they were looking into your soul. His hair, dyed black, seemed to always be in his face, as if he was trying to hide from the world. You wonder what colour he is naturally - is he ginger like his mother? You haphazardly guessed yes, with the splatter of faint freckles over his nose. What a cute nose, he looked-

“Um… you’re standing in front of the door and I need to get into my house. I have a WoW raid organised.”

You were snapped out of your staring.

“Oh shit, yeah sorry!” You stepped aside, mentally punching yourself for being so caught up. You could have blamed it on how tired you were from planting crops all day - yeah, that was plausible.

He laughed, a sound you didn’t think you’d heard from him before. It was a small one, close to a giggle, like he was embarrassed. Oh, he definitely caught you staring. He walked towards the door, hand on the doorknob. The breeze sent a waft of tobacco along your way with the undeniable smell of bergamot and green tea as he passed you. It was intoxicating.

“Your raid awaits, goodsir. I’ll take my leave.” You decidedly laughed along with him, trying to banish away the embarrassment by acting as if you could be a World of Warcraft character.

“Thank you, my lady.” He chuckled as he stepped into the house, watching you walk away as he closed the door behind him.

You smiled the whole way home. Good to know he is up for general silliness, you thought to yourself.

The next time you saw him was a few days later, working on his computer. Tapping away at speeds you’ve never seen someone type at. You had knocked on his bedroom door and heard a disgruntled, “Come in…”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt you. Your mom said you’d be here.” You said quietly, hoping not to intrude on anything.

He looked up for a second and offered you a small smile.

“Oh hey, gimme one sec. I just need to finish something.”

You awkwardly just stand there, holding the frozen tear you’d found in the mine.

You’d come to drop off some quartz that you found in the mine to Robin as she really liked it and wanted some for a project she was working on. When you’d opened your backpack, she noticed the frozen tear underneath the quartz you’d collected.

“Sebastian likes those.” She said, “He’s in his room if you want to show him it. It’s a really pretty one.”

Her eyes looked at the door to the basement, gesturing that it was okay for you to go down. She smiled at you. At the time you had thought nothing of it but, looking back, you’re pretty sure she’d hatched a plan to get the both of you to talk.

“I’m popping to the store, do you want a drink or anything?” She asked.

“No, thanks. I’ll just go see Sebastian and head off.” You said, walking towards his bedroom door.

Sebastian finished what he was doing and began to speak, “Sorry about that, I just needed to finish what I was working on. What’s up?”

“I was just showing your mum what I’d found in the mine and she said you’d probably like to see this.” You said as you pulled the frozen tear out of your backpack.

“Whoa! A frozen tear? These are really cool. I’ve always wanted one but I’ve never got far enough down in the mines to grab one.”

“You can have it.” You blurted out without thinking.

“W-what? Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out, “I’m sure.”

“Thanks!” He placed it on his desk as a beep came through the speakers of his PC.

“Ugh… that was an IM from Sam… I guess he wants to hang out now…Ugh, I don’t really feel like going out today.”

Just as you’re about to speak, Robin enters the room.

“Oh hi, Y/N!” She turned to Sebastian, “Sebby, I know you don’t like it when I come in here… but I ran to Abigail at the store and she said she was looking for you.”

He sighed, “Did you tell her I’m working?”

“I did but she said she’d probably stop by anyway.”

With that, Robin left you alone with Sebastian once again.

“Ugh no one takes my job seriously… Does everyone think I’m just surfing the web or playing video games all day?”

Curiosity got the better of you and you asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m coding, I’m a freelance programmer.” He sighed.

“Oh cool, is that your career goal?”

“I’m trying to save up to move out of here, probably to the city or something. If I’d gone to college, I’d be making six figures by now, I just didn’t want to be a part of the system.” He mumbled, seeming almost embarrassed.

“That’s cool! I understand not wanting to be part of the system, that’s why I left my corporate job.” You beamed at him, and he smiled back, looking at you like you’re the only person on the planet. You could get lost in his eyes for days. Those eyes, he gazed at you like you were the most amazing find in the mine, a priceless diamond. It made your cheeks flush.

“Well, I should get back to work.” He said, snapping himself out of it and breaking the tension. “I need to finish this by tomorrow.”

You nod and leave, waving your goodbye.

—

In the present day, Sebastian is standing looking at the lights of Zuzu City, your former habitat. Swirls of gray smoke dance around him. He looks at you and tilts his head, breaking your train of thought. He’d definitely just caught you staring at him and daydreaming… Again.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“Oh… just… the first time we played Solarion Chronicles...”

—

A few weeks went by and you were in a steady routine.

The crops were growing and your farm was starting to flourish - and you were wondering why you even questioned yourself in the beginning. Business was booming and you were starting to feel much more comfortable as a farmer. Maybe you could even branch out to animals. Marnie always said you were welcome to train with her if you decided to.

On one late summer afternoon, you had made up your mind. You were going to get chickens.

“Hey Robin!” You smiled as you walked through her front door, “I got some materials for you - I was wondering if you could build me a coop?”

“Sure thing! Here’s the blueprint for your farm, tell me where you want it?”

You pointed to a spot on the blueprint and watched as she made her notes. As you handed over your materials, Robin began to speak, “You’ve been giving a lot of frozen tears to Sebby.”

“Oh - I… I mean nothing by it, I just know he likes them.” You spoke, worried that Robin had guessed that you have a teeny tiny bit of a crush on her son.

“Oh, hey Y/N! Thought I heard you.” You heard Sebastian’s voice coming from his bedroom door. You could have sworn your heart stopped for a moment. He recognised your voice?

“Oh hi, I’m just asking your mom to build a coop for me. I’m getting chickens soon!” You smiled.

“Nice!” He said, before he started to turn away.

Robin coughed.

As if a lightbulb had gone off in Sebastian’s head, he spun back around to you and asked, “Oh yeah um, Sam and I are playing the Solarian Chronicles… we need a third. Do you want to join?”

“I’ve never played before.” You said, looking down. It’s not that you hadn’t wanted to play, you just didn’t know anyone back in Zuzu City that wasn’t too up their own ass to play it.

“I’ll teach you.”

You looked up at him and nodded, worried that if you spoke you’d subject him to only sounds and not words.

After successfully defeating the Necromancer, Sebastian began to pack up the game, with Sam having to run home because of his curfew, you stayed behind alone to help.

As you were picking up the figures from the game and handing them to him, Sebastian smiled at you. “Y’know it took me three or four attempts to beat my first scenario. You did great.”

“Thanks, I had a good teacher.” You giggled back.

You looked up at him and saw his smile grow wider. He stood there, looking proud and like you were the only person in the world again. Your heart skipped a beat for the second time that night.

Yoba, you were a goner.

—

He ruffled his hair at the back nervously and laughed, “Mom really wanted us to get to know each other, huh?”

“She really did.” You giggled back.

There was a comfortable silence for a few moments as you both smiled to yourselves. Sebastian took another drag of his cigarette and blew it into the sky.

“Looks like it’s going to rain.” He thought aloud.

Your mind brought you to another memory.

—

Autumn came and so did the rain. It gave the valley a sort of glow, with the way the sun gently reflected off the wet surfaces. Most people were hidden in their homes.

“Thought I’d find you out here.” You sighed as you made your way to the end of the pier.

“Y/N? I’m surprised to see you out in all this rain.” Sebastian said, surprised, moving his hood to see you better.

You stepped closer to him, allowing him room to speak some more. You’re not sure why but you could feel that there was something else he wanted to say. He didn’t seem to be in the best of moods so you waited patiently for him to open up to you.

“Look at those dark clouds over there. I hope they head this way. Joba, I like this weather. It makes everyone disappear. People make me so anxious.” He mumbled, pulling his hoodie sleeves, further over his hands.

“I get it. I get anxious around people too. It’s why I almost jumped out of my skin when we first met.” You laughed, trying to bring a little humour into the conversation to cheer him up.

“Ah yeah, I remember that.” He laughed with you, before stopping and, in a serious tone, the most serious you have ever heard him, he said, “ I don’t feel anxious around you though.”

You smiled at him, deciding that words weren’t needed. You placed a hand on his shoulder, choosing to ignore the electric feeling you got when you touched him. This wasn’t the time or place.

The clouds Sebastian spoke about a few moments before had made their way over, causing the drizzle to turn into heavy rain.

“We’re going to get soaked. Here,” He gestured towards you, pulling out an umbrella, “there’s room for two.”

That was it for you. Even when he felt bad, he still cared about you and your wellbeing. You were pretty sure you were in love with him.

You stopped by to see him almost every day after that, with it getting to the end of Autumn quicker than you expected. One day he’d even bought you flowers, something you didn’t quite realize held the weight that they did until Sebastian nervously asked if you understood what it meant.

You’d been casually dating since, meeting up as often as you could and stealing glances across the table on the Friday night get together that you had begun to join with Sebastian, Sam and Abigail.

A month later you were making your way to the mines to grab a few more ores to upgrade your tools. Sebastian was sitting outside on his motorbike, ready to ride away.

“Hey! I was just about to head out. Hop on, I want to show you something.”

You furrowed your eyebrows for a second, “Do you have a spare helmet?”

“Oh shit, yeah - in the garage.”

You quickly open the garage door and grab the helmet, placing it on you as you walk back over to the bike.

“Safety first.” You said, knocking on the top of the helmet that sat on your head.

Sebastian shook his head and laughed, “Get on, you weirdo.”

You climbed onto the motorbike and wrapped your arms around Sebastian’s waist, heat rising quickly to your cheeks. You could smell the bergamot and green tea from his aftershave, and you couldn’t help it but to be surrounded by his signature scent, letting it envelop you as you rode into the night.

—

And that’s how you ended up here, staring out into the bright lights of Zuzu City, leaning against his motorcycle.

“Zuzu City looks so small from here. When you live there, it seems huge.” You sigh, pushing yourself off from the bike, walking towards the edge of the cliff.

“Yeah…”

“It gives me a strange and sad feeling looking at it like this. Like I’m just a tiny speck.”

“The city used to draw me in, but… I’m finding myself happier at home in the valley now.” Sebastian said as he walked closer to you.

You turned to look at him and noticed that he was playing with his hands nervously. His gaze was on the floor and you took a step forward inquisitively.

“Sebastian… are you alright?” You asked, concerned.

“Y/N… I don’t usually bring girls to this place… anyone really. In fact, you’re the only one… You, um.. You get what I’m trying to say, don’t you?”

His nervousness was palpable. You could almost hear his heart beating in his chest… or was it yours?

You smiled at him, walking towards him, closing the gap between the two of you, resting your hands on each of his cheeks. Tobacco, bergamot and green tea filled your senses, a scent that had come to mean comfort to you. Home.

“I think I do.”

His arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him, eyes glancing briefly at your lips as if waiting for permission. You smiled softly and closed the gap between the both of your lips, giving him a gentle kiss.

To think that it had been less than a year since you had moved from Zuzu City to a little farmhouse in the middle of nowhere on an impulse decision made after the death of your grandfather. A blush rises to your cheeks as you think of the happiness you have found.

[phoenixkaptain]

I don’t want to get into a debate on whether or not Tim’s parents were actually abusive, but I do want to state outright that it doesn’t really matter, because Tim didn’t trust his parents.

What do I mean by this? Well, the beginning of Tim in comics is A Lonely Place of Dying (I’ve talked about it ad nauseum at this point) and one thing you may see people mention is what Tim says about his parents in it.

These are both from Batman (1940-2011) #441

Alfred asks, basically, “You do have parents, don’t you?” And Tim’s body language as he talks about them is strange to me.

Tim scratches his face. This is the only time Tim touches his face in these comics. And his eyes, he stops looking at Alfred, who he’s talking to, and looks at Dick, all the while changing the subject.

Is he lying? No. He’s uncomfortable. A part of this is that this interaction takes place before Tim tells them who he is, which Tim doesn’t want them to know. This is just the first time we see any hint of uncertainty on Tim. Interesting.

More interesting is, in the same issue

“I never told them, but for years I kept having the same nightmare over and over again.”

This is pretty clear cut. He doesn’t tell his parents things. He doesn’t tell them important things. And, well, it’s probably because he doesn’t talk to them very often

These two are from Batman (1940-2011) #444

First things first, Bruce brings up the subject. This isn’t the first time, post his introduction, that we see Tim and Bruce talking. They talk in #443. But Bruce has to broach the subject.

And Tim is avoidant. He says they don’t call often, and he isn’t bothered by it, or he doesn’t appear bothered by it. He doesn’t say what they’re fighting about, nor does he actually say what they’ll do if the trip doesn’t help. He’s very offhand about the whole thing. He almost treats it like he isn’t talking about his parents, but just two people in some circumstances he happens to know about.

Tim cuts Bruce off by pointing out the computer. He doesn’t want Bruce to finish, he doesn’t want Bruce making a promise he ultimately won’t keep, he doesn’t want Bruce to focus on him.

Tim’s relationship with his parents, especialy his father, is, from what I know, always presented in this detached way. Even in Young Justice, when Tim talks to his father, he does so through a newspaper. He doesn’t make eye contact, which is a strange thing because Tim always makes eye contact.

(That’s part of why Tim is a bit unnerving in his introduction. He is always making eye contact. Always.)

Tim doesn’t trust his parents. Why doesn’t he? Because they’re busy. Busy with work, busy with fighting, busy with each other. He doesn’t tell them things. He doesn’t tell them about his nightmares, he definitely didn’t tell them about his vacation week roadtrip, and he doesn’t tell them about Bruce.

Does that make them abusive? I guess not. Not in these issues, anyway. Down the line, I think his father especially crosses the line, but at this point? They’re mutually ignoring each other. Tim talks about his parents in a detached way, as though it doesn’t effect him. And, maybe it doesn’t. This was 1989, not exactly the pinnacle of mental health awareness with proficient knowledge of how absent parents effect the children they’ve not been raising.

Or, Tim used Batman and Robin as a proxy for affection, which is why he feels so strongly towards them and why he tells Alfred they mean everything to them and why Tim is unafraid in the face of his own death but panicky in the face of Alfred’s death. Batman and Robin are just his hyperfixation, something to obsessively focus on and keep track of to keep his head above the water, something he’s been obsessed with since he was three and saw Batman for the very first time, something he says himself he’s followed since he could read to the point that he listened to news reports on the off-chance Batman and Robin might be mentioned at the age of nine.

Who knows? ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯