#i swear i was going to write fluff

[dizscreams]

“FINDING LOVE, BEYOND THE SEA”

— Ethan Landry ★

PAIRING: Ethan Landry x fem!mermaid!reader

SUMMARY: Ethan explored the beach and he finds you and its all fluffy or whatever woooohoooo

A/N: saw the little mermaid yesterday and since I only ever think of Jack/Ethan this idea came to mind lol enjoy :)

TAGS: @xyzstar @ourloveisgod23 @wenvierismycomfort @beary-rambles @aesthetixhoe @dizzyscreams @mbankfav @aqellano @c8rdigan @jakesgirll @astermath @gabbylovesreading

“Don’t go too far, dude. Sam will kill me if I loose one of you idiots,” Chad said to Ethan as he put on his sunglasses. Ethan only rolled his eyes in reply and went off. He liked the beach, it was calm, it was pretty, but he preferred walking through the sand than swimming in the ocean. He put his AirPods in and looked around.

People were running around, some tanning some burning from the scorching sun, some surfing or swimming. He ended up walking far enough to the point where less and less people were. Ethan checked his phone and it had only been 15 minutes so he kept walking.

He kept walking until he found a secluded place near some rocks. It was a lagoon surrounded by palm trees and plants. If he didn’t go closer to it he would’ve never known it was there. He thought it was interesting but Ethan was hardly the type to explore further so he turned around.

As he was about to walk back to the beach he heard something. It sounded like a splash so he turned back around, but there was nothing there. He squinted his eyes to try and see into the almost clear water but there was nothing he could see. He went to walk away again but heard another splash so he quickly turned around and saw something or someone.

He saw you, you who had popped your head out of the water and had your arms propped up on a rock, you who had gorgeous eyes, who had a seashell top, who had scales and a tail. Ethan stumbled backwards at the sight. Maybe he had been in the sun too long. Maybe it was just a fake tail and you were trying to prank people. He stood there looking at you while you looked at him too.

You had never seen a human this close before. You had barely seen one at all before. Your people thought they were dangerous, but something about this one excited you. “I wont bite, I promise,” you told him sweetly. You examined his pretty features, he had brown eyes and curly hair, he was gorgeous.

“Um, what- uh what are you?” He stammered and took another small step backwards. The poor boy seemed terrified. “Would you believe me if I said a mermaid? I know it seems silly.” You slowly got out of the water and sat on a rock not facing him. “There’s no reason to be scared though, I won’t hurt you.”

You figured mermaids didn’t get a great reputation, but if anything mermaids were more scared of humans.

He watched as your hands squeezed the water out of your hair and he watched your tail. It was still in the water moving back and forth slowly. “How are you real?” He asked moving forward a bit. It didn’t make any sense to him. Ethan always liked facts more than make believe. It made him feel safer knowing than not.

You shrugged at his question, “Not sure. The same as you I suppose,” you giggled looking at him, “Nobody ever comes over here. Not humans not mermaids, it’s usually just me. It’s a cool spot isn’t it?”

He nodded and you frowned, “I’m sorry for scaring you,” you said quietly, “Would you like me to leave?”

One part of Ethan wanted to run away like the coward he was but some other part of him shook his head at you, “No, you can stay. This is your place anyways, would you like me to go?” His voice was small and he found himself stuttering a bit. “No, you can stay,” you said smiling. Your presence was calming and your smile was so contagious that Ethan smiled back.

“Would you like to sit?”

“Um yeah sure.”

Ethan walked towards you slowly and sat down on the rock next to you. You were even more beautiful now that he could see you better. You were practically glowing in the sunlight. “So, what’s your name human?” You asked curiously, tilting your head. “Ethan, what’s yours?” “Y/n.” “That’s pretty,” he said quietly. “Thank you,” you smiled.

“What’s that in your ears?” You asked poking him, to which he slightly flinched at. He didn’t even realize his AirPods were still in his ears. “Headphones, they allow you to listen to music.”

Your face contorted to one of confusion and he laughed, “Here, take one.” He gently gave you one and helped you put it in your ear correctly. You slightly shivered at the contact plus his voice in your ear, “There, like that.” He pulled away from you and looked at his phone to see the song playing. He decided it was appropriate enough for you and looked at you, waiting for a reaction.

Your mouth was slightly open and your eyes were wide, “This is weird but it’s amazing!”

He laughed and nodded. You both sat there in comfortable silence listening to music together before you pointed to the top of his head. “What are those?” He felt the top of his head and found that his sunglasses were still there. He grabbed them, “These?” You nodded and he took them off. “Sunglasses. These help keep the sun out of your eyes.”

“Can I put them on?”

“Sure,” he shrugged before handing them to you.

You put them on backwards causing him to laugh, “Like this,” he gently grabbed them off your face and flipped them before handing them back to you. You put them back on correctly this time. “Perfect,” he said smiling. You smiled back and looked around. “I like them. Do I look cool?”

He chuckled at you, there was something just so innocent about you. “Yeah, you do.”

He wanted to know more about you and he wanted to show you more. He guessed you didn’t know a lot of human stuff.

Ethan’s phone vibrated and he checked it to see a text from Chad.

Chad

Dude where are you were about to leave

Ethan muttered a curse and got up, “Hey, I have to go, my friends are waiting for me.” You frowned and handed him back his AirPods quickly but he stopped you when you tried taking off the sunglasses. “You can keep them, they suit you.”

You smiled and jumped into the water. You put your hands on the rock and looked up at him, “Will I see you again?” He smiled and nodded, “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“Maybe next time you can swim with me!”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You flapped your tail and went back underwater. He watched as you swam away gracefully and he walked away.

He made a mental note for when he got home that he’d do as much research on mermaids as humanly possible. He definitely couldn’t tell anyone about this.

What a weird day.

Don’t like this lmao but couldn’t get the idea out of my head 😣

[hanafubukki]

After having a talking with the resident father-son expert (mumble 💞🌺), what the fuck do you mean that Lilia never referred to Silver as his son?!? And the closest we had was him acknowledging that he raised him??

You’re telling me that he basically put a boundary between himself and the diasomnia boys??

With malleus, the boundary is the title he has and the guilt he couldn’t save his parents.

With silver, not only is he a human but you get the additional (probably, child of the enemy) he didn’t want to take away or lower the love of his birth parents.

With sebek, not his kid obviously, but his friend’s and her child’s kid that he trained.

Lilia freaking Vanrouge, we have to have a talk.

No wonder Sebek is the only one able to express himself because Baul never had trouble saying his thoughts and I image sebek’s parents were the same.

But the two kids you raised?? Mentored? Who look up to you??

Silver and Malleus?? Well, no wonder they have trouble saying their feelings and expressing themselves healthily when you are the same way.

We learn from those that we love, and this is something they have learned from you!

[welcometothewoes]

The image of A lying down with their head on B's chest, listening to their heartbeat while dozing off and basking in the warmth B emits gets me through the workday agh it's so good and tender

Especially if B puts their hand on A's back and slowly caresses them, or maybe plays with their hair, and all their problems melt away for a few hours because it's just the two of them in the whole wide world

[devildom-moss]

Happy 1 year anniversary to your blog! ❤️

Can I request gn! reader on their first date with Meph in nightbringer

hope you have a great day/night ^^

Thank you for the request. I had so much fun with it that I might have taken longer on it and made it a little longer than I should have. Oh well!

1 year anniversary flash request event - SFW

(Mephistopheles x gn!MC)

Prompt 9 - First date

How did this even happen? Mephisto wondered as he opened his car door for you, taking the opportunity to inconspicuously ogle at you as you got in.

You had taken the initiative and invited him out for a drink. His flustered, wide-eyed face confused you as the words tumbled from his mouth: “A-are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah, that was my intention,” you shrugged.

“Why, I never –! A human of all the –!” Mephisto mumbled to himself.

“What? I think you’re cute.” You furrowed your brows. “Have you never been asked on a date before?”

“I’ve been asked out before; I just never accepted. I’ve never had any interest before.”

“Before? So, you have interest now?”

“I didn’t say that, you impudent human!” Mephisto crossed his arms defensively, heat rising in his cheeks.

“Well, I suppose you might not be an ideal date anyway – due to the lack of experience and what not,” you teased.

“How dare you! I’m a gentleman. I would make an astounding escort –”

“Who said anything about an escort?”

“Escort on a date! Not a – forget it.” Mephisto mumbled. “I’ll pick you up at Cocytus Hall at 7pm tomorrow night. Wear something nice but comfortable!”

With that, he stormed off – just in time to hide the smile that cracked through his indignant façade.

He brought you to a nice restaurant – not quite as upscale as Ristorante Six, but you knew he had called ahead and leveraged his name (perhaps even slipped some money towards the establishment) to get this reservation. Now that you were sitting across from him, with his handsome face and his dignified suit that somehow outshined his god-awful taste in neckwear, you were starting to feel nervous. He picked up on that.

“Relax. You’re the one who asked me out, after all,” Mephisto sounded annoyed, but he stared at you with a reassuring smile. “You look lovely tonight. Just act like your usual, barely-tolerable self, and you’ll be fine. I’m here with you. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you for agreeing to go out with me.” You smiled and let out a sigh of relief. Mephisto cleared his throat to distract from the sudden warmth that flooded his face.

Not too surprisingly, Mephisto was an excellent conversationalist. You were delighted when you actually managed to make him laugh so much that he looked surprised as he tried to quiet his laughter – as if he hadn’t expected you to be so funny, or maybe he hadn’t expected to enjoy your company so much.

After dinner, you expected him to promptly take you home, but instead, he offered you his arm and took you for a walk down the street. You didn’t mind, but you asked him nonetheless, “Where are we going?”

“That’s a surprise. You wouldn’t want to ruin a surprise, now, would you?”

A short but rather relaxing stroll later, Mephisto stopped at a small, almost shady-looking shop. After a wonderful dinner, you decided you owed Mephisto the benefit of the doubt and walked into the shop when he held the door open for you. The shop was filled with (shockingly clean and organized) shelves, each one stacked with intriguing knick-knacks and magical items. You could feel the magic just by walking through the doorway.

Somehow, in response to almost anything that piqued your interest, Mephisto had some kind of insight or background knowledge. And you thought Satan and Solomon were the nerds.

“You’re so knowledgeable,” you admired him. “But what made you think to bring me here?”

“You’re studying under Solomon, aren’t you? I figured the wise sorcerer’s apprentice might appreciate something like this. And I’m not that knowledgeable; I did a write up on this place a few weeks ago. I’m a little disappointed you didn’t have the chance to read it.”

You stifled a laugh at his slight pout. “Still, it looks like you retained a lot of that information. That’s pretty cool.”

Mephisto smiled at your praise. “If something in particular catches your eye, let me know before we leave. I’ll get it for you – and no, it’s not any trouble. I’m happy to provide you with a memento of our date. Consider it a reward for being surprisingly good company.”

“You didn’t have to say ‘surprisingly.’”

Mephisto looked around quickly before leaning in and stealing a quick kiss in the middle of the shop. “Consider that one a reward for the adorably stupid faces you make when you’re annoyed at me.”

“You’re awful,” you lied.

“I know.” Mephisto smirked and stole another kiss from you. This time, he lingered on your lips. “Thank you for asking me out.”

A/N: requests are still open for the rest of today if anyone else wants to enter. (rules here) I probably won't get to all of the SFW requests, but I may be able to finish them up tomorrow or the day after.

[vhalesa]

It was time for *drumroll noises* a collab! Go checkout the amazing fic by @mikisayaka on ao3!

(Content warning: Maya is incredible gay.)

[giggly-squiggily]

Caterpillar Rave (Moriarty The Patriot)

~I wrote this at 3 am.~

CW: Bugs, swearing

Summary: A caterpillar shows up in William's study and he's not having it. Sherly finds the whole thing incredibly amusing.

~~~

“Liam..”

“Don’t.” The blonde cut him off, not at all liking how amused Sherlock Holmes sounded in this moment. “Please, just…remove it.”

“But Liam, it’s only a ‘Pilly!” Sherlock nodded to the bright green caterpillar sitting on the window seal, struggling along towards one of William’s potted plants. “Don’t you know these little guys turn into some of the prettiest butterflies?”

“I don’t care. Remove it, please.” William glared, not budging from his spot towards the back of the room, his face grim. He had come to his study this morning to find none other than this intruder lingering about. “Ideally before it makes a meal out of my roses.”

“But of course.” Sherlock grinned, walking over and gathering the small critter in hand, giggling as it marched across his fingers. “Tickly little thing, aren’t ya? Alright- where’d you want this little guy, Liam?”

“Outside preferably- don’t come over here with it!” William stepped back when the detective approached, cupping his hands. “Just- dispose of it out the window or something!”

“Come now, Liam. You and I both know ‘Pilly’s don’t hurt humans.” Sherlock laughed as he turned back to the window, opening it up and letting the little guy go among some nearby ivy. “They’re good for the Ecosystem! Eat all the invasive plants and whatnot.”

“That’s lovely, and I’ll gladly let them do that outside. Not here.” William seemed to relax some upon the caterpillar’s exit, turning to his desk. “They’re welcome to the weeds amongst the garden; though I suspect Fred will pitch a fit if they find their way to his tomatoes..”

“Poor kid would disguise himself as one just to take them down.” Sherlock snickered at the mental image, walking up to William with his hands still in fists. “I hadn’t known you were afraid of Pillys, Liam.”

“I’m not afraid of them. I just find them disgust-EEH!” William archered when he felt something ticklish at the back of his neck, his collar being pulled. Slapping a hand there, the other reaching around to feel his back, it was only then he realized nothing had been dropped down his clothes. Turning around, he cut a scary look at Sherlock, face red. “You are a scoundrel, Mr. Holmes.”

Sherlock howled in mirth, head thrown back as he held his belly. “Oohohohoho my god! What a sqheheheal that was, Liam! Oohohohoho, god! *Snort* Yohohohohur fahahahce!”

William only continued to glare, arms crossed and scowl permanent as Sherlock doubled over, slapping his knees as he cackled. “Are you done? If not, you can continue your laughing fits back at Baker Street.”

“Wahhait! Wait, Liam, I’m-pffft! Ehehehe! I’m sorry!” Sherlock shuffled over to the glaring blonde, holding up his hands in apology. “You’d know I’d never actually do that to you! I just wahahanted to spohohook you, thahahat’s all!”

William only turned away, silent as stone. Sherlock sobered, wondering if he’d genuinely hurt the other man with his prank.

“Liam, I truly am sorry-”

What happened next was a blur. Sherlock had gone to apologize properly, a flash of red gleamed, and the next thing he knew he was on his back, arching with a shout of laughter as William’s fingers attacked his ribs. “AH! AHhahhehahhahahaha! L-LIihihihihiham, pleahahhahahahse!”

“My, how quickly you’ve gone to begging. After how much laughing you’ve done at me just now, I’d figure you’d want to keep going.” William teased, something devilish in his voice as he wormed his fingers up and down Sherlock’s ribs. “Don’t stop on my account, now.”

“Ahehahahhhahahahaha! Lihihihiihihiam! Lihihihihiam, pleehahahhhahahse, nohohohohot the rihihihiihihihbs!” The detective thrashed and squealed, torn between curling into a ball and fighting the hands working their way up slowly towards his upper ribs. “Coohohohohome ohohoohoh, I’m shahahhhahahrry!”

“I don’t believe you.” William spoke without malice. “This isn’t nearly as hard as the way you laughed after your little prank. I think it’s only fair we reach that same level before I let you go.” His thumbs drew circles against the brunette’s upper ribs, the rest of his fingers tapping along his armpits. “My, is this a bad spot?”

“EEEE! Lihihiihhiihhiam, dohoohohoohon’t!” Sherlock arched, nearly sending them both flying as those dastardly fingers dug into his upper torso. Reaching out, he gently squeezed the blonde’s sides, making him yelp and pull his hands back. “Gohohohohotcha nohohohohow!”

“Ihihi’m suhuhuhre you thohohohught!” William giggled out as he pushed the hands away, reaching back and squeezing Sherlock’s knee. The detective all but spasmed, a squeaky guffaw breaking out his lips. “Now, If I recall correctly, you have a rather good tickle spot right along…”

“Nohohohoho! Nohohoohho, Liahahhaam plehehehahse! Not the fehehhet! Not the FEHHEHEHEHEHEHEHT!” Sherlock shrieked when his feet were attacked, William’s nails dancing against his socked soles. Flopping like a fish, Sherlock’s next few rounds of noise were a combination of swears, jumbled threats, and pleads for mercy. “LIHIHIIIHIAM, PLEHAHHAHAHSE!”

“Done laughing at me? Are you going to pull any more tricks like that?” William asked.

“YHEHEHEHEHEHS! I MEAHHAHAN NOOHOOHOHO! BOHOHOHOOTH?”

“Both? Now which one are you referring to, Sherly?” William released his feet, moving back up to squeeze the detective’s legs, making him kick and giggle. “Are you intending to prank me again with those awful things?”

“Nohohoohhoohoho! *Snort* Nehehhehehehver!” Sherlock wheezed, cheeks rosy and lightly glistening.

“Are you done laughing at me?” 

“Mahahhahaybe? Ah! Ohoohohokay ohohohokay!” Sherlock squeaked when a hand went back to his knee briefly. “Ihihihihiihm done, I swhehheahhahar!”

“Hm…very well.” William released the other, watching as Sherlock collapsed against the wooden floors with a gasp. “You’re forgiven. Do that again and I’ll have your head.”

“Whihiihch one?” Sherlock asked, giggling through a yelp when William pinched his arm, shaking his head.

“You’re terrible.”

“You lohohove me.”

“You’re just fortunate I do.” William turned to get up, only to find Sherlock’s arms locking him in place. “Sherly, I do need to get some work done.”

“You tickle me to tears and think that’s the end? I think not!” Sherlock declared, pressing his face into the blonde’s neck, nuzzling it gently. “Besides, you work all the time. Come spend the day with me. We’ll go to that hotspring again- get something good to eat along the way. Besides.” Sherlock’s tone turned conspiratorial as he eyed the window. “What if that Pilly comes back and brings friends? They’d ambush you!”

“I’ll be sure to sacrifice you to them.” William elbowed him gently in the belly, earning a huff of laughter against his neck. “I’m sure they’d find someone like you to their taste; even if it’d be a light meal when they reach your brain.”

“Light meal!? Oh, you’re asking for it now, Liam! Come here!” The tickles resumed, this time William’s laughter filling the room alongside Sherlocks.

~~~

Down below, Fred stared incredulously at the small patch of Caterpillars munching at his Tomato plant.

“This.” He pointed, already making plans on his newest disguise. “Means WAR!”

Thanks for reading!

[wolfprincesszola]

Reasons Not to Kiss Him

INSPIRED BY "REASONS NOT TO KISS HIM" BY NATALIEWEEPOETRY

ngl cringing over every single thing i write even if i know it's not bad. have some wrightworth/narumitsu rot. enjoy and remember that likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 ——————– Summary: Miles Edgeworth debates whether or not to kiss Phoenix Wright when there are so many reasons against kissing him.

Trigger Warnings: Self-Hatred, Slight Mention of Suicide

Content Warnings: Swearing

<Masterlist> <Read it at ao3> ——————–

"Kiss me."

The words uttered were so quiet Miles couldn't even register it as a whisper. It was more of a muttering under a breath than something Miles could register as speaking. For a second, Miles would have thought that it was nothing. Waved it off as something Phoenix was mouthing with no real intention to act on it. A joke Phoenix wanted to say, but stopped himself from uttering. A voice that died in his throat.

But then, Miles saw the way Phoenix looked at him. He saw the way Phoenix swallowed nervously, his Adam's apple moving up and down with every second that Miles didn't speak. He saw the way Phoenix's eyes darted at every part of his face for any clue that Miles got his message. He saw the way Phoenix's lips wavered, debating whether or not to utter the fact that he was joking. Or maybe he should keep his mouth shut, pretend like he didn't say it, just as Miles was wondering whether or not to pretend not to hear it. Miles almost didn't.

Phoenix took the silence as Miles hearing the first statement and he expounded on his statement, "I'm not scared of you. Please. Kiss me?"

Phoenix meant what he said and that was what scared Miles. Miles loved the man. He sure did. It had been more than a decade of knowing him as a defense attorney and a long time coming that they had gotten together. It would be awful if Miles didn't love Phoenix with how long they had been together; he knew the man loved him the same way. Maybe even more than Miles. But the fact that Phoenix had wanted Miles to kiss him and that Miles didn't know if he could scared him. It scared him shitless.

There were thousands of things against their relationship. Against the idea of them kissing each other. He knew that, but that wasn't what he cared about. That wasn't what scared him. In fact, he couldn't care at all about the people that hated their relationship, about the things that were trying so hard to keep them apart. He could waive them off without a single thought.

It was his mind that scared him. Because he was listing every reason he shouldn't kiss Phoenix in his mind, trying to find a reason to say no. Ten came to mind that was stopping him.

One. Miles wasn't raised to love tender.

As much as he hated it, he was still Manfred von Karma's student and his mentor was not someone who loved tender. If he even loved at all. Miles still wasn't sure about that, but he was taught to hurt and lash out when he was attacked. To sting a bee before it could sting him. That meant that with love, he was expected to lash out before he could truly be loved and appreciated. That meant that being loved by Phoenix scared him so much because he didn't know how to stay with Phoenix when all Phoenix needed was a hug or to talk about his feelings. He was always taught tough love. Stand up and pick himself back up so he would know how to help others pick themselves up. He tried his best. He helped others with picking their broken pieces up and trying to help glue them back together, but it was different with Phoenix. Phoenix was delicate porcelain China and unbreakable plastic containers at the same time. Almost impossible to rip apart, but almost impossible to put back together again. Miles struggled when it came to helping him because the way Miles loved came from a place of hatred. It was filled with hiding the truth. It was filled with too much grief. It was filled with frustration. It was filled with staying quiet and listening. It never was speaking out and preventing him from making those mistakes. Phoenix himself knew that, but for some odd reason, he didn't seem to mind. He didn't seem to mind that Miles wasn't raised to love tender. Instead, he always lent a hand in helping Miles understand how to love him and he always tried to find a way to love Miles in the way Miles knew love to be. Phoenix compromised for Miles.

Two. When Phoenix was around, all Miles could do was tremble. When he was around, Miles wanted to get on his knees that were too weak to stand. Phoenix had so much power over him that it was dangerous.

Miles didn't like it when men had power over him. It was a sign of weakness and no one in the family that raised him was ever weak. Crying, speaking out about feelings, sadness, being too stubborn. All weaknesses that ran in the von Karma legacy. That was how it had always been, so it was suspicious how much power Phoenix had over him. How much power Phoenix chose not to use on him. Always with free will. Always with smiling at him. Phoenix never made Miles feel pressured to do anything, never exercised the power Phoenix had over Miles to make him do what he wanted. There was always a "only if you want to" and "would you mind helping me" hidden behind all of Phoenix's requests. He could have Miles at his every beck and call. Making him food, buying him presents, being there to satisfy his every need. Yet, he didn't. It was weird considering what Miles dealt with in his family. He was asked to do things that seemed more like demands. "Help your sister", "do these chores", "excel in your courses", "listen to me whenever I ask". That was how it was, especially as an eldest son. It was expected of him and it was fine. His family knew they had power and respect over him, and Manfred von Karma especially exercised that authority. Phoenix? He understood how much Miles was head-over-heels for him. He understood just how much Miles's heart pounded every time he approached the man, just how much he had Miles wrapped around his finger, just how much his smiles could make his day better in just a millisecond. Phoenix could easily have Miles serving him, but instead, Phoenix gave Miles all the power he had over him. Phoenix gave Miles the self-control to be who he wanted around him. Miles wasn't too sure how he liked that.

Three. Phoenix was too good at forgiving and Miles was too good at violence.

He never exercised it at Phoenix, but Phoenix had seen how angry he could get. Phoenix had seen just how much Miles loved him because he had gladly punched plenty of people who harassed him endlessly. A couple of school bullies, stalkerish fans, criminals, and more. Miles had seen them all around Phoenix and he had seen just how much Phoenix had been scratched or been pushed down by them. It boiled his blood hard enough to result in him seeing red and sometimes that red was blood. Blood from the persons. He was violent and angry all the time. That was the way he was, but Phoenix didn't mind. He just smiled at Miles and patched him up without a complaint. He held Miles' glasses so Miles wouldn't break them and protected Miles from getting hit. He had stepped in a few times and had even defended Miles for hitting them. It didn't make sense. How come Phoenix wasn't scared of him? How come he continued to forgive Miles? How come he never seemed to care that Miles was so good at violence? How come he could trust Miles so easily to know that Miles would never hit him? How could Miles trust himself to know that he wouldn't eventually hit, or more importantly hurt the people he loved? Especially Phoenix. That, he didn't have an answer to.

Four. Miles knew what society said about monsters, and most importantly, what happened to the men that loved them. Was he really going to do that to Phoenix?

He was a monster. He knew it himself. He hurt people when he didn't want to, lashing out at them either physically or verbally. Most likely verbally. He couldn't pick up on signals and sometimes, he would pick the wrong action that he knew was the wrong choice. When he should've been comforting, he gave tough love. When he was comforting, he tried to hide behind his uncomfortableness and instead tried to take a backseat stand. He didn't know how to deal with emotions. He never really learned how to deal with them. He was easy to snap and it terrified him down to every cell in his body what would happen if anyone truly made him angry. Angry enough to kill. He was sure he was close to it whenever someone hurt Phoenix. He knew that the men that loved monsters always got the worst of it. Monsters always shifted back, always killed the ones that loved them, or at least what was of those. Always hurt the men that loved them and changed the men until they were almost unrecognizable. Miles knew he had already done that with Phoenix. He had seen how Maya and Larry had mentioned how differently he acted. Even Trucy, who didn't really exist in a time where Miles was out of Phoenix's life completely. They said it was better that way. That Phoenix was a fraction of an eggshell before he managed to find his identity with Miles. Miles wasn't so sure about that. He wondered if it really was a good thing. If changing Phoenix was really something that everyone adored or if everyone would eventually turn on him, the way society always did on monsters. If they would realize that Phoenix changing was awful and if they would lock Phoenix up from protecting Miles from the harm society would lash at him. If they would treat Phoenix as if he was insane and if they would hurt Phoenix for loving a monster like he loved Miles. He didn't think it was worth the risk.

Five. Miles's hands didn't know how to be gentle. He thought about the last beautiful thing he held that shattered in his palms, the fresh rosebuds crumbling between his fingers like a bruise. A wolf-man and war machine like him wouldn't know how to hold something magic and not destroy it.

Phoenix was magic to him. He saved Miles in the worst time and kept him from being drowned. He stayed there with Miles during his toughest days and was often the result of Miles having life-long debts to him. Phoenix was gentle to Miles. Always delicately framing pieces of hair out of his face, always holding him closely as if he could break if Phoenix squeezed, always giving him the kindest and gentlest smiles to keep him going throughout the day. Miles wasn't like that. Just as he was his mentor's student, he was Franziska's older brother. Just as his sister was rough with the things she did, Miles was too. Miles learned from the reckless, crushing anything in his palms that could not be pushed around or bruised. Anything magic faded and anything beautiful lost its beauty when he held it too close to him, not wanting to share it with anyone in the world. With Phoenix, Miles never wanted to let him go, but he always did before it was too late. Before he crushed Phoenix to pieces and was left staring at a broken pile of what once was beautiful. What once was the amazing Phoenix Wright. Someone who had fought through a war every day of his life wouldn't know how to hold someone who had brought him everything. Someone who had to deal with destruction in his childhood wouldn't understand how to keep something close to him without destroying it before anyone else could find out.

Six. If Miles hurt Phoenix, it might kill him.

Knowing that it physically ached his heart and made him angry to even see Phoenix be slightly wounded at any remark that was told his way, Miles knew it might kill him if he knew he hurt Phoenix. If he kissed Phoenix, he would let Phoenix in and it meant the man could be hurt. Miles always hurt the people he loved, no matter how much he tried not to. It was the way everything went. He hated it. If Phoenix shed a tear because of him, Miles would never be able to forgive himself. Miles knew the damage he did on people who made Phoenix cry or on people who tried to break Phoenix. He wondered if he would die from a broken heart because he hurt the man he loved most in the world.

Seven. If Miles hurt Phoenix, he might kill himself.

Miles knew he'd hurt anyone that even made Phoenix annoyed. That came with his love. His heart was sometimes too big that it was hard to hold it inside of him. Too physically big for him to express that he needed to do it in other ways. One of those ways being hurting those that hurt Phoenix. He knew that if Phoenix even exhaled to keep his cool, Miles could be on his way to make sure that the person would never hurt Phoenix again. If dying from a broken heart didn't kill him, he was sure that he'd kill himself. After all, he loved Phoenix in that way and if he hurt Phoenix, he would do anything in his power to make sure that he could never hurt Phoenix again.

Eight. Miles was very bad at rehabilitation. This might be one addiction he'd fail to give up. Phoenix would ruin all other kisses and all other men and he would be stuck spending the rest of his life trying to forget his name.

Miles had a history of addiction that ran in his family. That's why he never got started on drinking alcohol. It was too risky, which mean that beer and wine were out of his life. He tried his best to get rid of any other addiction he would have. Steel Samurai collectibles? No. He would never stop collecting them and would spend the rest of his life trying to hide his hobby. Shopping? No. He was already trying to stop that addiction. Coffee? Absolutely not. He could even tell from a sip he had once that the burning sensation and the ability to stay awake would spiral him into an addiction. Poker? He couldn't think to gain a gambling addiction with his luck in winning. There were so many. He never stuck to one hobby too long, fearful that it would give him an addiction. With how smitten he was with Phoenix, he was scared that if he kissed Phoenix, he would never be able to go back. He couldn't break habits and he couldn't love someone the way he loved Phoenix. Phoenix was his first and only love. He was there with Miles through thick and thin, even when Miles was awful to him. Even when there seemed to be no reason for Phoenix to help. If he kissed Phoenix, he'd never be able to get rid of him when he tried to love another man. Tried to kiss another man. If they were to separate, he'd be forever searching for a way to erase the seared memories Phoenix implanted within him from the first moment they met. He just couldn't.

Nine. Miles still wasn't sure Phoenix wasn't just a dream.

Phoenix came at just the right time. He saved Miles from the lies Manfred von Karma gave him and solved the mystery behind his father's murder. From the deepest pits of hell and helped Miles pick the pieces back up that he tried to do himself with difficulty. Phoenix made it seem so easy to support Miles and he gave him the stepping stones to help Miles love himself. To know who he was as a person. It was no wonder that Miles fell in love with Phoenix after that. For that to be taken away from him at a moment's notice was heartbreaking by itself. He had tested it plenty of times. Pinched his cheeks, smacked his face, felt Phoenix's face. All to see whether or not the man was part of a great dream he was having. As if the man would disappear if he were to blink, and he would be thrown back into the real world where he was the Demon Attorney.

Ten. If Miles kissed Phoenix, he might wake up.

If Phoenix was truly just a dream, Miles knew that it would have to come to an end. If this was really his picture perfect movie, it had to end somewhere. And most of the time, it ended right at the kiss. If he kissed Phoenix, there was a chance he would wake up, alone in a bed that didn't have Phoenix in it. Alone in a life that Phoenix did not exist in or in a life where Phoenix did not exist in as his. That terrified him to even think about. Thousands of hours poured into loving a man that was just a dream. Thousands of hours poured into loving a man that would be gone in a blink of an eye. If he stayed in that moment, if he stalled the ending, it would be okay. He could stay with Phoenix for as long as he wanted.

But then, he looked at Phoenix, who was still waiting for his answer. Who was searching his face for any context clues about how he was feeling. Who had just whispered his name to try and get his attention back to the matter at hand.

"Miles."

Then, he began to search for the reasons to kiss him.

One. Because Phoenix was beautiful.

Even if beauty was in the eye of the beholder, Miles could agree that he loved everything about Phoenix. From the jaw he traced his fingers over every time he tried to memorize Phoenix's face to the raven hair that could only be described as the same color of obsidian to the blue eyes that reminded Miles of the salty waves in the ocean. The type of blue in the waves that could drown him if he was pulled in too deep. If he wasn't careful enough. All of Phoenix's appearance. And all of his personality. His kindness, his enthusiasm, his happiness, his bravery, his chaoticness, his consideration, his ability to love, his heart, his brain. All of it. Every part of him was beautiful to Miles and that was enough for Miles to understand that Phoenix Wright was the most beautiful thing he had ever come across. How could he reject such a beautiful thing?

Two. Because Phoenix asked.

There he was, so politely asking Miles to kiss him. To humor his wishes and to offer something that could so easily be shut down. It was brave what Phoenix did. Putting his heart out so easily just to ask for a simple brush of the lips. Miles couldn't fathom how Phoenix could so easily ask him just like that, as if it wasn't a make-it-or-break-it deal to their relationship. How could he say no to something so kindly asked for?

Three. Because Phoenix preceded "please" with, "I'm not afraid of you".

He had heard what Phoenix had asked. He knew Phoenix knew about his thoughts. He knew Phoenix knew Miles thought himself of a monster. He thought Phoenix feared him just as much as he feared himself, but that one sentence had changed his entire mind. In that moment, he realized that Phoenix had never been afraid of him because he knew Miles better than anyone. Knew Miles better than even he knew himself. His kindness, his heart, his anxiety, his worries. The inside and outside of him. Phoenix understood where Miles was coming from and what he was always thinking. It was always that. Phoenix somehow always knew and he knew that Miles feared himself. That he would one day mess up. That he would hurt Phoenix. And in that one sentence, Phoenix had proven that he didn't care what happened because he knew it would never happen. How could Miles not kiss Phoenix when he knew he could never hurt him?

"Yes." Miles swallowed his fears away and cupped Phoenix's face. Ignoring his pounding heart, he pulled Phoenix closer to himself. His hands shook the closer he approached the man, his lips hesitating when they were millimeters apart. Their lips brushed against each other and he could feel Phoenix's lips that were just a bit chapped from the cold of the air.

"You don't have to kiss me. It's okay." Phoenix whispered as if he knew about Miles's hesitation. "I'm not going to force you."

As Phoenix's lips moved, so did Miles's from the sheer distance. Even when Phoenix knew what he wanted and was this close to getting it, he still hesitated, wanting to know that Miles wanted it just the same as he did.

"Wright..."

"I'm serious, Edgeworth. I'm not going to force you." Phoenix grabbed Miles's face to pull himself away, but Miles couldn't allow for it. He wanted to kiss him so bad. Despite the 10 reasons he had convinced himself to not kiss Phoenix, there were still that three that were convincing him to just do it.

So he did.

He leaned in and connected their lips together, feeling as Phoenix melted in his arms.

Phoenix tasted of coffee grounds and matcha green tea. Probably from the boba drink he had just ordered. Angry Matcha or something. Matcha milk tea with an espresso shot mixed in. Miles remembered looking at the description, though he wasn't sure why that was important at the moment. Phoenix's lips weren't necessarily rough as Miles could still feel the chapstick he had put on only a few hours before, but they were rough enough for Miles to know that he had to reapply it soon.

As soon as Miles pulled himself away from Phoenix, he searched for any sign that Phoenix hadn't actually wanted Miles to kiss him, but all he found was a shit-eating grin on his face, one that he couldn't quite stop if he tried. As soon as they separated, Phoenix had pulled Miles back into his arms, pressing their lips together once more.

He was right for one thing. Phoenix was definitely an addiction that he would never want to get rid of to the point where he had forgotten a very vital part of living. At least until the two of them were practically having to push themselves off of each other to catch their breath.

Miles smiled as he stared at Phoenix, still there in front of him. So he didn't wake up. He leaned his forehead against Phoenix's, trying to hide the smile that was coming onto his face as well.

Phoenix reached over to Miles and pinched his cheek. A slight pain reached his face and he scrunched his face up just as Phoenix let go.

"What was that for?"

"Just so you know it wasn't a dream." Phoenix smiled. "I love you."

And as Miles stared into the eyes of the love of his life, he realized that it didn't matter how many reasons there were to not be with Phoenix if it meant that there was one that brought hope and kept their relationship going.

"I love you too."

[amaya-writes]

Can you do relationship headcanons for the jjk males please? I love your jjk works 🤗

Notes: why do i feel like i haven't written for jjk in FOREVER even tho it's probably only been like a month lol. I decided to write for Nanami this time because...well there really is no reason I just felt like it and only had inspo for him

warnings: n/a just fluff, but it's the kind of domestic fluff that makes single ppl (*cough* me *cough*) feel bittersweet

characters involved: Nanami Kento

gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Nanami Kento

Nanami thinks he's never felt anything as close to home as he does when he's with you.

You find it very hard to believe the words falling from his lips sweet like sugar threatening to poison your mind with an onslaught of endearment and adoration. Especially when he's carding his hand through your hair in an attempt to have you linger by his side even as the clock ticks on and your deadline approaches.

However, it is just as hard to ignore his words when faced with the small actions he does for you every day he is by your side.

With how he'll hold back your hair when it's getting in your way and even place a gentle kiss at the small of your neck, one so soft you barely register it.

Or how even with a sleeping schedule so messed up it couldn't even be called that, he somehow always makes sure to force you to tumble into bed with him when the clock ticks a little too close to sunrise even if he leaves the second you fall asleep.

Nanami's never really been the most affectionate kind or one to showcase his emotions too much, but it is his acts of service and gentle touches that tell you what he can't muster to say.

The way he'll always go out of his way to cook for you during weekends or whenever he isn't too tired after a day of work.

It helps that he had you move in with him early on in the relationship, especially since he couldn't muster the thought of a curse getting to you and him not being around.

Nanami's always thinking one too many thoughts at any given moment, but he finds that with you it's hard to think of anything but the way the mere sight of your smile makes his stomach do backflips.

But he doesn't want to be overwhelming, doesn't want to come off as too much; someone who is seemingly infatuated.

It doesn't help that he's an overthinker, with even the smallest of touches holding the weight of ten thoughts.

He's always concerned he's doing too much, or too little, that he's imposing on your privacy by making you eat and sleep when he sees fit yet also doing too little.

However, it's hard to let his thoughts get the better of him when Nanami sets his sights on that adorable smile of yours.

Especially on the days when he works overtime long enough for you to slip into one of his shirts and seek the comfort of having him with you; a sight that makes it increasingly hard for him not to collapse into your arms, for he knows you would always catch him.

Always gently card your fingers through his hair and coo at him as you pried about the day's events, always saying just enough for him to tiredly hum an answer or two.

Nanami was never one to be vulnerable around others, but he finds that with you it's hard not to be.

Perhaps that is why he's come to associate you with the dream-like idea of a perfect home.

For it is in your arms that he finds the comfort of a home he had long forgotten.

[nerdieforpedro]

Other blogs I follow and my moots: Writing nuanced fics, exploring different issues and relationships with touches of smut and agnst. Sometimes fluff because you want to read something sweet sometimes. 🥰

Me: Over here writing space smut. 👀

Yeah, I’m just coasting by on slutty beskar thank you very much.

[vixstarria]

My Readers: "We love the intimacy, romance and gentle exploration element of your fics, the way you write Astarion is so touching, we look forward to watching his and Tav's relationship grow and evolve 🥰"

Me: *cackles and bashes naked dolls together again instead*

[wren-of-the-woods]

This is for @witchersgoldenbard!! You are amazing and I’m so glad to have met you. Happy slightly late birthday! Have 2k of Geraskier fluff <333

Also on AO3!

Jaskier hated being sick.

He wasn’t sick often. It was, perhaps, part of the reason he disliked it so much. He had little experience with the way his body felt like it was up in arms against him for a few days. The woes of a stuffy nose and a sore throat were particularly irritating — what good was a bard who could barely sing? 

He was lucky that he never got particularly sick in the first few years that he spent with Geralt. Jaskier could neither play for their supper nor travel much in this state, and he had a feeling that Geralt might have taken the opportunity to dump his irritating young self in a pleasant inn and continue without him. 

Now, however, Geralt had no such thoughts. Years of traveling with Jaskier seemed to have softened him a little; he was much more willing to put up with Jaskier’s various antics than he had been before. This was fortunate for Jaskier, who had been in love with him for quite a while and saw no signs of that changing. If he had to pine after a man who did not return his feelings, he would be grateful that the man in question was unbearably sweet beneath his many layers of brooding idiocy.

Occasionally, though, his sweetness became somewhat irritating. 

“Are you sure you’re comfortable?” Geralt asked for the sixth time that evening. 

“Of course I’m not comfortable,” said Jaskier with a glare. “I have a terrible, horrible cold. I am as well-positioned as it is possible to be. My suffering is more or less minimal. I’m still not comfortable.”

Geralt sighed, having the grace to look somewhat chastised. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“What do humans do when they’re sick?”

“I can’t speak for the entirety of humanity, Geralt.”

“What do  you  do when you’re sick?”

“Suffer.”

Geralt sighed. “What did your friends and family do for you, then?”

Jaskier was rather exasperated. “Well, at Oxenfurt we would generally build a pillow fort and drink wine until I felt somewhat less shitty!”

Geralt blinked. “A pillow fort.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Why a pillow fort?”

“It’s comfortable!” 

Jaskier knew he was being irrational. It was probably unfair of him to blow off Geralt’s questions like this; he knew better than anyone that the witcher was genuinely trying to understand the intricacies of humanity. 

But Jaskier was sick, uncomfortable, and irritated. A little irrationality could be excused.

“I’m going to take a nap,” he grumbled. 

“All right,” said Geralt. He patted Jaskier on the shoulder and chuckled when Jaskier swatted vaguely in his direction. “Sleep well.”

“Thank you,” said Jaskier. He was asleep within minutes.

~~~

When Jaskier woke, he felt marginally better. He opened his eyes and rolled over to see— 

Geralt, putting the finishing touches on what was, undeniably, a blanket fort. 

Two chairs had been pulled together, back to back. Three stools were placed around them. Atop the furniture were draped at least three different blankets, creating a space almost entirely enclosed by fabric. A few pillows were lined up on the floor to create a sort of low wall beneath the blankets. 

Geralt must have heard Jaskier moving, because he turned around with a slightly sheepish expression. 

“The inn doesn’t have enough pillows,” he said, apologetic. “I substituted with blankets. Is that all right?”

Jaskier stared at him. Geralt looked earnest, genuinely hoping that Jaskier would like his creation. Jaskier stared at the blanket fort. Given the lack of experience Geralt must have had with such things, it was an impressive feat of impromptu engineering. 

Geralt made him a blanket fort. He made a large, well-constructed blanket fort for Jaskier, simply because he thought it might make Jaskier feel better while he was sick. 

If Jaskier wasn’t already completely and hopelessly in love with Geralt, he would have fallen for him all over again then and there. 

“Oh Melitele,” he said. “Geralt, you are the most lovely person I have ever met. And I know a lot of people, so that’s saying something.”

Geralt looked rather flustered at that. “You like it?”

“I  love  it. Can I go in?” 

“Of course.”

Jaskier rolled off the bed and onto the floor. Geralt pulled up a section of blanket that seemed to have been left loose for this very purpose, making a little door that Jaskier could crawl through. Jaskier entered and gasped in delight at the sight of even more pillows awaiting him inside, scattered around atop another blanket that was spread like a rug on the bottom. Jaskier crawled to the far edge of the fort and sprawled on his side, feeling thoroughly decadent. 

“Are you coming in?” he called to Geralt. He could see the shadows on the blanket shift as Geralt moved about, but he didn’t seem to be entering his creation. 

“Do you want me to?” asked Geralt.

“Of course I do! What kind of a question is that? It’s your fort, after all.”

“It’s yours.”

“You made it.”

“I made it for you.”

Jaskier was fairly sure he would combust if Geralt continued to be so absurdly sweet. 

“Well, if it’s my fort then I am within my rights to tell you to get in here and cuddle me already.”

Geralt chuckled. “All right. Give me a moment, I have one more thing to get.”

“I shall wait with great impatience,” Jaskier warned.

“Noted.”

Jaskier listened to Geralt’s footsteps as he left the room, then lounged contentedly for a few moments while waiting for him to return. The blanket fort was warm and comfortable. After a few moments, he found himself dozing off. 

He woke to the sound of Geralt crawling through the makeshift door. He opened his eyes and stretched, then abruptly stopped as he nearly kicked over the chair supporting the entire structure. Geralt reached out to steady it, then sat down rather awkwardly in the center of the fort. He was holding a bottle which, when Jaskier made an inquisitive noise, he revealed to be full of wine. 

“You said you drank wine in your pillow forts,” said Geralt by way of explanation. “I thought it might have been an important ingredient.”

Jaskier looked at Geralt, then at the bottle, then at Geralt again. Before he could think better of it, he rolled up off his back and tackled Geralt in a hug. 

“Woah!” said Geralt, scrambling to keep himself upright without destroying the entire fort. 

“I love you!” Jaskier shouted.

He used the momentum of his hug attack to roll off of Geralt, stealing the bottle of wine as he went. He sat up and took a generous gulp of alcohol, then grinned. 

“This is amazing! How did you get ahold of it?”

He turned to look at Geralt, which was when he noticed that Geralt had frozen. He was staring at Jaskier with wide eyes, posture stiff. 

“Geralt? What is it?”

Geralt didn’t respond. Jaskier glanced around, looking for any potential threats that Geralt might have seen, and found nothing. He mentally rewound their conversation, wondering if something he said might have—

Oh. 

Oh, fuck. 

He told Geralt he loved him.

Geralt stared at Jaskier. Jaskier stared at Geralt. For a moment, neither of them said anything. 

“I get emotional when I’m sick?” Jaskier offered weakly. 

Somehow, Geralt’s expression shuttered more. “Of course. It’s fine.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No. You say that to everyone.”

That brought Jaskier up short. “What?”

“You didn’t mean it. That’s fine.”

Geralt sounded strangely defeated. He sounded as though the idea of Jaskier having romantic feelings for him was obviously nothing but a joke. 

Jaskier hated it.

Telling Geralt about his feelings would be a terrible idea. He knew that. He had decided it years ago, when he first realized that his feelings were more than a passing infatuation. 

Sitting in the middle of a blanket fort that Geralt had constructed specifically for him, surrounded by evidence of Geralt’s affection, he found that he no longer cared about the risks. 

“I never said I didn’t mean it,” he said.

It was Geralt’s turn to be brought up short. “What?”

“I mean it.” 

“Meant what?” 

Geralt’s voice was cautious. His eyes were wide. Jaskier could not tell if the expression was one of hope or dread. 

Either way, Geralt deserved the truth. 

“I’m in love with you,” said Jaskier. 

The blanket fort was utterly silent. 

“Romantically, that is,” Jaskier added. “But I also love having you as my friend. You can feel free to ignore this. I just thought you deserved to know.”

Jaskier fell silent. Geralt was still staring at him. 

“Say something?” Jaskier pleaded. 

“Why?” croaked Geralt. 

Jaskier blinked. “What do you mean, why?”

“Why are you— why do you feel that way about me?”

Jaskier stared at him for a moment. “Because you’re sweet and beautiful and the kindest person I know.”

“I’m not.”

Jaskier made an incredulous sound and gestured around them at the carefully constructed blanket fort and the wine. “Excuse me? That is so obviously false I don't even know what to say.”

Geralt looked faintly amused. “That’s a first.”

Jaskier gently kicked his knee. Geralt huffed a quiet laugh. 

“I don’t expect anything from you,” said Jaskier. “Nothing has to change.”

“You love me,” said Geralt, sounding somewhat incredulous. 

“Is that okay?”

Geralt hesitated. Jaskier was almost convinced he was not going to answer when he finally spoke. 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I think it is.”

Jaskier grinned so hard his cheeks began to hurt. “Good. I’m glad.”

Geralt smiled back at him.

Jaskier gestured with the wine bottle that was still in his hand. “Wine? I think we deserve wine.” 

“Sounds good.”

They passed the bottle back and forth between them several times. It was still just as good as Jaskier had thought when he first tasted it. After a few moments, Geralt spoke up again. 

“How do you feel?”

“What?”

“Your sickness. Does it feel any better?”

“Oh!” 

Jaskier realized, to his surprise, that he had almost entirely forgotten that he was ill at all. His nose was still stuffed and his throat was still sore, but he did not care nearly as much as he had that morning. 

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “It seems that blanket forts are an effective cure, after all.”

Geralt smiled back at him, amused. “That’s good to know.” 

“Can we sleep here?”

“Why? There’s a perfectly nice bed a few feet away.”

“Yes, but that’s not nearly so exciting.”

“If I knew this is what it takes to make you excited about sleeping on the ground, I would have done it ages ago.”

“I doubt that you could make a good blanket fort in the woods, darling.”

“That would be called a tent.”

“You don’t  have  a tent.”

“Hmm.” 

Jaskier laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

Geralt smiled. “All right.”

“You agree that you’re ridiculous?”

“No. We can sleep here tonight. I can’t deny my sick bard such a comfort, after all.”

“Oh! Lovely. Can you grab another blanket from the bed?”

Geralt nodded and briefly left the fort, returning with yet more blankets and another pillow. Jaskier made grabbing hands in his direction. Geralt chuckled and lay down next to Jaskier as commanded. Jaskier adjusted them until he was thoroughly comfortable, his head pillowed on Geralt’s shoulder and Geralt’s arms around his waist. Geralt hummed happily. Jaskier smiled. He usually had a difficult time falling asleep when he was sick, but that night he started dozing within minutes. Just as they were about to fall asleep, Jaskier felt Geralt whisper against his hair.

“I love you, too.”

Jaskier’s heart fluttered. He finally looked up from where his face was buried against Geralt’s collarbone so that Geralt could see his grin. 

“I am the luckiest person in the world.”

Geralt hummed. “If you say so.”

Jaskier snuggled back against Geralt, treasuring the slow rise and fall of the chest beneath his cheek. He was so lucky in his choice of companion. Here, in a blanket fort made especially for him, he had never felt so loved. 

Perhaps, if Geralt was there to care for him, being a little sick wasn’t so bad.

[elvisabutler]

pregnancy angst with priscilla reader?

oh anon. you know not what you asked for. but sure why not let's balance out my fluffy vampire pregnancy thing with this. but also i can write multiple variations of this. pregnancy angst, secretly the source of all my power. BUT. tw: babies, pregnancy talk, breastfeeding talk, jealousy, the normal bs that comes from anyone saying priscilla and reader in an ask to me (so character bleed, age difference, daddy kink). brief mention of the consideration of abortion. you blink and you'll miss it.

suddenly we're writing out the same old lie

so consider our options. we have four by the way. one is that you know, you're never pregnant, think you are but you aren't and that's tragic in it's own way. we've already talked about that before. and then we have the one where you hide it until you really can't and your mom is just shaking her head and telling you that you've really got to tell him. and you do and it's- it ends alright.

then there's options three and four. three is you are and you never tell him until he finds out himself, four is that you end up getting pregnant by someone else while on the break.

consider! in option three, we shift the timeline a little because maybe you and austin stay in australia a little longer just in case baz needs to do reshoots and honestly you're not feeling like dealing with the bullshit that comes with trying to get back into the country and covid tests and just- it's better to stay a little longer. so you stay until you leave austin. and you're pregnant but you don't find this out until you're home and this is not happening. you- you don't want to get rid of it because you're selfish and priscilla has lisa marie to remember elvis by, maybe you want a baby to remember austin by. with his blond hair and your eyes and- you keep it but you can't go on the tour. you cannot under any circumstances go on the press tour in person. maybe for an oscar consideration run but a press tour? no. you'll- he'll see your bump and he'll try and get back together with you.

"i wanted kids but nessa and i- we were waiting. i had to get my career going and she wanted to wait until she was 30 to be married. it made sense." "what if we're not together." "my mom and dad divorced, but we made it work. i'll always be there for you and them. but you're never gonna have to worry about that, dove. never leaving remember?"

so you have to get out of your contract and baz helps- he hates it- but he helps because you're a great girl and you're still going to do some press, just via zoom. it's fine. and yes, yes he'll lie for you to austin. everyone will. but you don't go on the press tour, you end up doing interviews via zoom, everything is above the waist and people ask what's wrong and it's always, "had some personal business to take care of. sickness, you know how it is. warner bros were really understanding."

austin has an idea that something is up, your breasts look fuller on camera and so does your face. honestly he thinks of ashley pregnant with jupiter when he sees you glowing. he doesn't call though. he wants to, but he'll let you talk if you want. because he's so aware of how messed up your relationship was to certain degrees.

you text him when you see him at the met dressed in all black with your daughter using your bladder as a trampoline. you shoot him a text. "i know you still have the red ascot, you should wear it next time you wear that." he calls you twice and sends a text. you call him back.

"why aren't you here?" you almost tell him then as your daughter does a somersault and kicks your ribs, causing you to let out a curse and an hissed ow. and then a picture of him and kaia at the met flashes on the screen. "you know how you got sick, daddy? how elvis wore you down? it happened to me too. i got sick. i had to go." it's a lie and yet it's not. you should have called him by his name but- if she never gets to know him. never gets to shriek daddy while launching herself into his arms well at least he'll have been called it once.

consider it's oscar night. consider it's been two months since you've had her, not quite to the day. you don't want to leave her but you've been doing the press for austin and the film- your nomination was a lost cause, baz says and he sounds honestly quite sad about it. for at least a month in outfits that catherine sends and alters for you. and he wins. you all win actually through a stroke of luck and he's still shaking from his own win "couldn't have done this without my little dove." so you grab his hand and squeeze. he stops shaking and can actually speak again.

you find him in the corner of the oscar party- whichever one you go to and everyone's getting a little drunk and he notices you're not but doesn't ask because he's the corner nursing a whiskey and he sees you and looks nearly as rough as you feel because your boobs are rock hard and you know you've probably leaked through another pad and you talk. "you okay, daddy?" not austin. not satnin. not butler. just daddy.

"no, what did i do, little dove? hm? was it the ring? the onesie? you never talked to me. you promised you'd tell me if it got bad, i told you i wouldn't leave you." he meant it. he doesn't leave his people. even with bits of elvis still sticking in his soul the part of him that's austin and always will be values his people so much he'll keep them close forever.

"no. it wasn't that. either of them. it took me a bit to get the onesie but i got it, it was the scare and it was cute. the ring was- something else though, aus, i- were you really going to give me that?" you're massaging at your chest praying it doesn't give you a wet spot and that he doesn't notice. "no, it was probably when my daddy called me cilla twice before realizing it was me when i called him in the hospital. i never have stopped wanting to be your little dove. i just didn't want to be your little birdie too."

and then the argument that isn't really an argument and is just you two almost talking in circles, trying to untangle the web you've weaved.

"why didn't you tell me, i didn't remember saying it." he's huffing because you've been holding that against him and he's missed you so much for what. for a misunderstanding while he was drugged out of his mind? "what happened that made you miss the tour? they wouldn't- you were sick, you said you were sick i thought i did that to you. or that you lied and it was because of me, that you were scared to be around me."

"austin- no. that. i mean it was kind of because of you but it's not that-" and your phone is ringing because your sitter is texting you and austin can see your lock screen and it's a picture of the two of you on a couch on set, legs intertwined and your nose nuzzling his. but your home screen is a baby. a little blond baby girl no more than two months old.

"is that- y/n, are you goddamn kidding me?" he's livid and in that moment he swears every fiber of his being has him turning into elvis throwing a temper tantrum because because his focus narrows to you and the phone. "is she- is my name on the birth certificate?"

"she's not-" "don't even finish that sentence. when did you start lying to me, little dove?" the last bit is a sneer and it's the last time he calls you little dove for a long while.

"about the time i realized that you didn't love me, you loved an idea, butler." it's said in the same sneer because how dare he judge you. your in your early twenties and you never claimed to be perfect. you head out to leave and wave off baz and priscilla and everyone as austin follows you. the cameras are flashing and normally you care so much but right now you just want to get home to lori. he follows you, grabbing at your wrist once you're outside.

"a baby. you hid our baby from me. did you lose my number? i know you didn't- why didn't you call me? you knew-" "did i though? you had lily rose and olivia and kaia and i'm supposed to think, yeah, austin butler who i think is more in love with my priscilla presley wants our baby. yeah. i'm not- fuck- austin i'm almost a decade younger than you. whatever you think i know, i don't. and you know that." "so you were never going-" "i panicked, austin."

the car comes and he follows you in like it's normal and like you're not going to have to do damage control tomorrow. you should kick him out, but you don't. his jaw is tense and he's leaning against the window. "can i see her?"

"you're already in my car, butler. sure."

and he just takes that as the opprotunity to launch into twenty questions. "when did you have her? what did you say to yourself to justify not telling me about her? what's her name? did you-"

you're trying not to cry because your emotions have mostly settled but hearing him spit out questions so angrily reminds you of why you thought it was a good idea to hide this from him in the first place. you remember your labor and how you begged to not have a c-section and you managed to do it but they took her away for a minute because she wasn't crying quite right. "on elvis' birthday. i'm still very angry about that. it none of your business what i said to myself and- loretta. but i honestly call her lori."

the noise that comes from austin sounds like a sob but really just a pained groan. "my- y/n, you- how dare-"

"she's not- she's more priscilla's kid than mine, it didn't matter what i named her. and cilla once thought of naming lisa something with lynn in it but i hate lynn and only think of loretta lynn. but loretta sounded pretty" you whisper trying to head off him getting even angrier.

austin doesn't speak for the next 10 minutes until he grabs your hand. "i'm her father. if nothing else, i'm her father."

"that's the only thing i've ever been sure of." you say back with a squeeze as you both leave the car to go see her. the babysitter looks at you both with wide eyes before just shaking her head. this is none of her business, maybe you will tell her later.

she's crying and it's not because she's hungry or anything else, but when austin takes her from the bassinet attached to her pack and play she instantly calms. and that's what makes you ask him to just- see how you two can make this work before you get any lawyers involved. that you messed up but so did he and- just one shot, butler, please.

he calms down eventually, probably about a few months on when lori is in his arms after burping directly in his face after feeding from your chest. he laughs and holds her close while pointing at you. "learned that from your mommy didn't you, little lori. learned that from the prettiest little dove. rudest, but prettiest."

it makes you stop what you're doing and just stare before you sniffle. "don't call me that if you don't mean it, daddy." daddy because if he means it you'll go right back there right now.

"come here little dove. wouldn't say it again if i didn't."

he meant it. and maybe you cry while lori just plays with your hair happy to be in her father's arms and happy that maybe mommy will be happier too. you find a couple's therapist to go with your own that you finally got after you had an extra set of hands in the form of austin on a very long filming break. maybe you move to cannes. maybe you don't. but you fix things slowly but surely.

[gaywiththesauce]

SONG SINGING

someone calm me down i need to SLEEp i have a SOLO section in a SONG tomorrow and my WHOLE family is going to be there im NERVOUS and now im NERVUOUD more and i hope we go to wendys :)

saucy landed meself a solo line that i get to sing!!! in front of 1 million people (a church of >100 and a chapel room) and my part is miniscule but im the only one singling it!!!!!!!!!!!!! and i want it to be good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

so uh uh uh time to go feral on stage. im getting flowers >:)

[productofaritual]

I found an old prompt in my writing dump so I think that instead of any of the actual fics that I planned and talked about y'all will be getting another oneshot

With who? Ehhhhhh, I dunno yet, we'll see

[sgcairo]

“DANYA!”

The cry ripped itself from Aurelio’s throat, blood dripping down the front of the blade that had been thrust directly through the center of Anastasiy’s chest. Sireno, Anastasiy, his best friend, his partner, watched him with wide eyes, choking as pain visibly wracked his body, looking down at the silvered blade with eyes that reflected the deep crimson that dripped onto the ground.

“T-Teucer…”

[stackthedeck]

16 & 1 for AO3 wrapped mayhaps

how many words have you written this year?

175,303! but ideally, I'll squeeze in a couple more soon! I've got a couple wips that are almost done but finals are kicking my ass

16. what's your most common "additional tags" tag?

it's "fluff" which is so generic but like if I narrow it down to something slightly less generic it's "getting together" I gotta start getting weird with my tags lmao