#i tried to treat myself today and have an outing purely for fun/me but it did not go to plan and ended up wasting money

[emmavakarian-theirin]

tfw your train has been delayed an hour but one of the kids on your platform starts watching bluey

[leviismybby]

Too Late

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

This is just angst of Levi finally confessing but you losing feelings....

Watching from afar Levi plays with his fingers, is he really going to do it today? Is he going to tell you?

It was cruel, the anxiety that kept him up all last night. These feelings he held in for you for so many years, he can't stand them anymore.

He adjusts his cravat as he stands in front of your bedroom door. Feet fearing to run away but Levi is done being a coward. Knocking a few times, he breathes in deeply.

You open the door, eyes immediately locking with his. "Captain? Is there a reason that you showed up here this late?" A genuine answer that you want to know, Levi isn't someone who wanders outside his office at these hours.

His eyes immediately alarm you, you know that expression from miles away, he is about to tell you something he tells no one.

Please.....don't.

"Spit it out what is it." And you hope that those words don't leave his mouth because that will only hurt you more.

"I...just....I think that I lo-"

"Don't." You feel your voice crack, your eyes getting watery. He had years to say it, so many times you were waiting for those words to leave his mouth and they never did. You're tired. Tired of going back and forth, not knowing where you stand with him. Loving Levi Ackerman was exhausting.

"It's too late now." Levi's expression is easy for you to read. Regret, sadness, anger. He feels all of those emotions at once and he can't do much about it, it's his own fault.

"For years Levi. I have been waiting for those words to come out of your mouth for years. Every time I think that you were going to do it, you run away like a coward because you made yourself believe that you don't deserve love."

That hurts. The pain in your voice hurts him. He feels useless, there is nothing he can do but listen as you vent your feelings out to him.

"And you want to know the funny thing? I've watched you go from a rogue to humanity's strongest soldier, time passed and I loved you even when you blatantly insulted me without any reason, I listened to your every order in hopes of you praising me. Hell, I even held you in my arms when you cried against my shoulder and I even went as far as to beg Erwin to think about your feelings in some of his insane plans. All of that for you to treat me like I'm just an ordinary soldier, hot, cold, hot, cold. You've met my family, my little siblings grew to love you more than I thought they would. You showed up to my room after every expedition, even if we sat in silence I understood every single feeling your eyes held. You named a star after me when we were camping. Told me all about your mother. Anytime I was near danger I felt your eyes on me, you prevented me from going to Shiganshina and when I asked you why you coldly said that it was because I was worthless. Then you held me like a piece of most treasured gold after that disaster only to turn your cold shoulder on me the next day again and I never once loved you less."

Levi's mouth falls right open, it's true. Every word that comes out of your mouth is true. He feels like he wants to scream on top of his lungs, it hurts.

"And now, when you started to see that I distanced myself from you started to treat me like I matter." Falling in love with you was fun, being in love with you was pain and falling out of love with you is pure agony. Tears are fully streaming down your face, you want to throw something at his face. This type of emotion is new to you, there is no explanation for it.

He stands in front of you watching as tears fall from your eyes. What can he do? If he tries comforting you, he thinks you might slap him across the face as he deserves.

"I'm sorry." That's all that can leave his mouth, the only sentence his mind can form as it still didn't process your words fully.

"I'm sure you are but please." You walk to your door and open it fully. "Go. We have nothing else to talk about." Levi is smart enough to figure out what you're doing. Is this how you felt every time he would be cold to you like this?

" Go on." Break my heart for the last time so that you have nothing to break anymore.You say in such a cold voice and those words feel like they crushed Levi's soul.

Each step that he takes to the door is more painful than the other. You made yourself clear, he will walk out of that door and you will erase him from your heart and mind forever.

He stops mid-way, something holding him back. Can he kiss you at least? Is it too much to ask for? Before the words can leave his mouth, you shake your head.

"That would only give me hope. Please just leave Levi." That's how well you know him, you know every part of him, every expression on his face.

The weight on your shoulders feels heavy, it's going to crush down on you as soon as he walks out of that door. You know that your pillow will be stained with your own tears tonight.

Levi walks past you before turning around to look at you once more. "I won't tell you these words again and I will leave you alone but please believe me, I do love you."

The door closes and you immediately feel an ocean of tears run down your cheeks. It's for the best. You tell yourself but as his footsteps fade, regret starts to crumble your mind.

You both will suffer in silence but it's for the best. For the world you live in, this is the best situation for everyone.

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

Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @sixpennydame @notgoodforlife @levisbrat25 @luvjiro @lovolee3 @evas-leslas @levisgreyeyes @yakaaamoz @niki-sun @ackermendick

[exodusin]

"Hi good night or good morning I was just asking if you can do a teen Michael afton with a Jamaican s/o"

( yes am Jamaican and i hope your alright and well :)

TEEN MICHAEL AFTON WITH A JAMAICAN S/O☆

pairing ˖ ݁ ˓ teen michael afton x jamaican!reader drabble + headcanons (both Michael and reader are 18 seniors)

note ⋮sorry if this took long :,) please let me know if any of the following seems disrespectful since I’m not Jamaican, if there is let me know and I’ll fix or take it down, enjoy :D also no bite of 83 here just pure love and Michael just being an idiotic flirtatious teen in love ♡

contains ⋮ fluff, michael is a douchebag but he’s a total flirtatious dorky sweetheart, michael has a mullet, 80s love, pet names, a little tiny bit of spice nothing much

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

It all started in early 1984, you were a new student in Hurricane, Utah. A simple girl with a pretty face, minding your own business, doing what you need to do, not a goody two shoes, just a student wanting to get your senior year over with, not expecting excitement until from a certain popular boy changes it all.

Michael tried so hard to not focus since he didn’t want to attach with someone who is new and wants to make them feel like any other nerd.

But he couldn’t because why did you have to be so damn beautiful?

Always looking pretty, being chill, you weren’t to prudy or too rude, you were just a butterfly fluttering around finding sweet nectar.

The way your long locs swayed gracefully as you did P.E, how relaxed you look, being cheerful at times like the world wasn't watching, your warm smile, your dark skin that made him all giddy inside, just YOU. Maybe he’ll cut you some slack and not be asshole just like he did to the other new students.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t mess with you a bit because that’s what he is. A bully

He made his move the next day when you were putting your stuff away in your locker, you turned your head to meet a teen about 18 years old and gave you a smirk with those stupid blue eyes that somehow made your heart flutter, but then you realize it was Michael Afton, the troublesome boy, the bad boy, you looked at him a playful judgmental look at his sudden appearance beside your locker.

“You're the new girl, innit?” he asked, and not in a way to be friendly but to annoy you, you were unbothered since you can do the same, you closed your locker and held your books close you, “Yea? What are you here for? To shove inside my locker as you do to the other kids?” you teased, damn, your voice was attractive as hell, he could just melt in that spot he's standing, his tried to maintain tough in front of you but damn just you existing made him a giddy dork.

Although he didn’t expect you to respond, instead all his cockiness faded, well not all but more than half

“What? No no no, you got it wrong I just...hmph...I, oh shit, you just seem cool and I wanted to introduce myself since you don’t seem nerdy or geeky as the other new students…..” You slowly raised a brow and chuckled a bit, “There’s nothing more cute than seeing a punk get nervous over a girl, how sweet.”

You knew he liked- well had a crush on you- but Michael didn’t like the slow chemistry going on so he followed his instincts and confessed to you about his feelings, you weren’t going to lie, he was attractive and treated you like a queen more than he did with his friends, plus he was really to fun to hang out with and you were indeed catching feelings.

That night, you two were just cuddling in the back of car and he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his thumbs softly rubbing your cheek, he so wanted to kiss those plump lips of yours that seem to have pineapple lipgloss but you decided to tease him and kiss him on the cheek instead, payback for the bullying he does towards his little brother and the nerdy freshman.

“Drive me home, pretty boy. I’m tired, it was nice today, thank you.”

Poor boy didn’t get his kiss, karma tho.

Anywho- headcanons!

Sometimes when it’s night time in Friday nights Michael would visit you outside your balcony, just seeing you dance to a childhood reggae song or any other music that you like.

“Nice moves, babydoll.”

Yup, babydoll is the special nickname he has for you.

He came back that night just to get his kiss, you found it silly but still, you couldn't resist it, you so wanted to kiss him back, and damn it sent him to the moon.

The kiss was romantic, slow, and passionate and when I say after that kiss, Michael will buy you loads of lipgloss for those perfectly shaped lips of yours, you just look so darn beautiful in them, he wants to claim you in every shape, way, or form.

He wants to learn how to do your hair and doesn't want to mess it up, if you ever ran out of the shampoo that is needed for your texture he will buy it in a second, need new bonnets? He will buy the finest ones on earth.

If he messes up the slightest on styling your hair he’d cursed himself while you just laugh at him and just teach him the basics.

He LOVES laying between your pillowy thighs, the way the lamp reflects your dark skin is like an image the gods sent him. Double pointers if you play with fluffy mullet while he rests his head between your thighs giving them butterfly kisses.

If you were to sleep over at his house he would lend you an oversize band shirt, he definitely didn't hide your pajamas just so he could get away with seeing you with his shirts.

Anywho

The days you doll yourself up, with cute clothes that fit your curves perfectly, your hair either styled in long locs, braids with beads, or an afro with flower decorations, Michael will do everything in his power to hold you by the waist, a sign to show others your his.

He gets more possessive when the tormentors from his friend group flirt with you, like for instance, Jeremy Fitzgerald (freddy mask) once said-

“You and I will get married one day ;)”

Michael: MARRY MY FIST—

Sorry this silly punk British boy loves you so much, he can’t help it.

But you return your love and reassure his by kissing him all over his face with your plump lips, his grin turns idioticly boyish.

He’d love your parents and how they embrace their culture, your dad having records of popular 60s-70s reggae artists in the living room like Bob Marley and The Wailers, Toots & The Maytals, Horace Andy, etc.

Your mother gave you the idea to invite Michael over for dinner to meet him, and Michael was more than happy because the food tasted like he's got a piece of what heaven is like, the dinner was a Jamaican dish called Fish Escovitch along with fried plantains as a side snack.

William didn't know how to cook for shit, and the poor boy had to eat it because as much as he'd rather starve he knew he couldn't.

But with this food your mother served, he was finally satisfied but had to maintain proper, despite him being a dirtbag that has no shame slamming geeks into the lockers and mercilessly beating them up.

When school was finally over for the summer, you invited him to Jamaica for two weeks of the summer, a town called Falmouth.

And you in your emerald bikini and beach skirt that fitted your dark skin is so beautiful, he always asked himself how he got so lucky to have someone like you, a piece of the heavens sent for him ignoring his aggressive persona of a bully, because, despite all that, the heavens new Michael Afton would treat you like a queen.

It was like you were made of stars instead of atoms.

In the lagoon, at night, Michael would place a Hibiscus flower behind your ear, place you on his lap and kiss your face and run gently his pale fingers onto your wet locs and whisper-

“I love you F/N, only you, and forever be, even in the afterlives, there will be no existence where me and you aren’t together.”

[torchickentacos]

Physical Education Class and Ableism (AKA, 'Is my invisible disability actually invisible, or do you just close your eyes when confronted with a student in pain?')

I will not pretend this is a well-written discussion on the issues in PE. This is not that. This is an outlet of the grief and pain and genuine suffering that I, and many other students, felt through PE class- which goes far further than having a couple blisters after running the mile. I am in no way being dramatic or hyperbolic when I say that PE class leaves a long-lasting stain on not only self-image, but for some of us, our bodies. LONG POST. This IS personal and emotional (because years later I'm still angry at how I was treated), not a purely fact-driven dissertation, though personal anecdotes are relevant to the topic, and my emotional biases do not invalidate my points.

TW for ableism and brief mention of ED behaviours (clearly labeled and easy to skip over). This was definitively NOT fun to write, and I quite dislike talking about exactly how much disability affects me but I'm honestly angry enough to not care right now. Because every time I think about how I was treated, I get angrier and angrier. The wound grows deeper with each year I have to process it. I just want this to reach anyone else who is as angry about it as I am to reassure you that you have every right to be angry. A hell of a lot more people should be mad, too. I want people to get mad reading this. If you want, share it. Put it on tiktok without credit, for all I care (though actually please don't do that). If nothing else, just listen to kids when they say they're in pain.

To preface, I have never been able to do a push-up. Never. My shoulders and elbows just cannot support me. Any time we did push-up tests, I'd just sit on my ass because why hurt myself trying to do what everyone around me could do with ease? As for curl-ups, I think I peaked at 27 once. I never ran the mile in under thirteen minutes. Never did a pull-up. Was always last in every activity consistently (even during Ramadan, as a non-muslim who was not fasting- which, Ramadan and PE expectations are a WHOLE other topic that I am not educated enough on to make comments on, so I digress).

There were maybe three things I was good at, though. I could always far exceed everyone else in stretching and flexibility tests, and I was uniquely really good at gymnastics and hurdles, of all things. In retrospect, this is due to the leg flexibility needed for hurdle jumping, and I'm flexible due to disability- I'll get into that soon, though.

All of which is to say, I was bad at PE.

No matter what we did, for the most part, I'd be lagging behind and dizzy and in pain.

At first, I tried to push through and ignore it, determined to not fall too far behind my classmates. I was already a weirdo in the special ed program, didn't need another reason to feel like an outcast. I was already, at that point in time, missing large chunks of the year due to 'psychiatric help' stays, to put it mildly. So I just tried to keep up and never could.

Eventually, the complaining started. Or rather, the advocating that fell on un-listening ears. I started telling my teachers that running hurt and I didn't know why. That I was out of breath and my head hurt. This went on for a couple years and every single time the answer was 'well, you'll get half credit for the class if you walk today, but if you do that too much you'll fail'. So basically the answer I was given was to run with everyone else or fail class.

I started having a crunching knee. A clicking kneecap. Ankles rolling. Progressively getting worse over time. I started running with a limp. I started lagging even further behind. I started giving up entirely, opting to walk and take a bad grade because I could not keep willingly and actively hurting myself. One time, I even almost passed out after the mile and was told "well, put your head between your knees and see if that helps, then go back inside and get ready to go to your next class".

What that response told me was that I was being dramatic and lazy. The lack of seriousness they took it with told me I was just being overdramatic. So, I started believing them. Every time I walked up the school's stairs to the second floor, knees hurting and chest heaving, I just told myself I was out of shape and needed to work out more. I convinced myself I was lazy, just like they thought I was. I tried to get better. I tried to exert myself more and more in class only for it to hurt more and more.

The harder I tried, the worse I got.

I didn't understand it. Everyone around me was doing the same exercises and getting faster and stronger. Everyone else was improving or at least staying at the same levels of health. I was deteriorating, no matter how hard I tried to get into shape. I wasn't trying hard enough, maybe. SKIP RED SECTION IF ED TOPICS ARE TRIGGERING FOR YOU.

Maybe I was overweight, I thought (not true and led to some very bad habits that made me worse). I'd go from not eating lunch one day to eating two the next, trying ANYTHING that would make me feel like I was putting in the 'effort' to be healthier. Maybe I needed more food and more muscle. Maybe I needed less food and less fat. I'm sure we can see how this was an issue (that could have and would have been avoided had I been listened to).

RED SECTION OVER.

I was roughly thirteen to sixteen through all of this, if my math adds up (which it very well may not, since we can also put math in the disability zone for me).

I still get stuck in this thought pattern. I'm still working to get rid of these thoughts and attitudes in 2023. My last PE class was in 2018 if I recall.

I started skipping class. I was getting panic attacks and hiding out in the halls, in the bathrooms, trying to strategically schedule counselor meetings, doing anything I could to avoid PE class and the pain that came with it.

Eventually, though, after an eternity of pain and being told to suck it up, I stopped PE classes and fulfilled my credits for them (how I passed, I have NO idea- I can only guess my IEP team pulled strings for me behind the scenes). Only after this did I learn I had Ehlers Danlos Syndrome and Postural Orthostatic Tachychardia Syndrome (and some other random stuff that's less pertinent but definitely didn't help).

Ehlers Danlos or EDS is, to put it simply, a joint/connective tissue disorder characterized by hypermobile, super flexible yet weak joints that are prone to injury and dislocation. It comes with a plethora of comorbidities and other symptoms that aren't as relevant but still made it harder for me to work out.

Postural Orthostatic Tachychardia Syndrome, or POTS, is where your heart rate spikes when you stand from sitting or laying down, causing dizziness and blacking out. For me, it also results in chronic hypoxia- low oxygen.

During exercise, my joints were not strong enough to take it. My joints would not stay in place and this caused injury. Want to know one of the owrst things people with EDS can do? High-impact repetitive exercises. Like running. The POTS made me dizzy and weak, and I couldn't get enough oxygen to sustain the level of exertion required of me to run.

I am now not ALLOWED to run by my doctor. I'm still working on finding a way to work out that is safe for me because the truth is, most exercises are NOT safe for me. Granted, exercise in specific ways are actually helpful and considered treatment, but this is with a physical therapist and medical professionals who know how to help you work out in ways that will help and not prove to be detrimental.

Safe to say, PE class is not that.

And here's the thing. Ehlers Danlos and POTS are what are known as invisible disabilities. Unlike amputees or people whose disabilities altered the physical look of their bodies, my disabilities are all internal. But they aren't truly invisible.

My teacher could have seen the way I was white as a sheet and stumbling after attempting the mile, the way I would almost black out once I finally sat on the grass. She should have seen the way I winced as I got up from sitting every single time. She saw me limping when my kneecaps were sliding OUT OF THEIR SOCKETS as I ran (but she likely assumed I was being dramatic and faking that limp). Invisible disabilities are not truly invisible. Through the easy bruises, the never-healing injuries, the blood pooling, the pallid faces and the hyperflexible joints, the rashes and reactions, through the pain and through all the times I tried my damn hardest to vocalize these issues, it was immensely visible if someone was willing to see it or listen.

She only ever saw the issue when I started to skip class because I was getting panic attacks about attending.

The last interaction I ever had with my PE teacher was at Graduation.

We had an outdoor venue due to Covid. By then, I'd had diagnoses for Ehlers Danlos, Postural Orthostatic Tachychardia Syndrome, and various other things, and I'd been out of PE for three years (I took two years of pe freshman and sophomore year, none during junior and senior, and had one extra year for a veterinary science thing).

I had seen her during our practice round, which took place in our gym. I'd asked her about the amount of stairs at the venue and about how much standing was needed, explaining my disability to the same woman who would force me to run with it. She said she'd make sure she was there to help me through it and to find an accessible way to get through the venue.

I get to the venue and she's nowhere to be seen. I walk to the area we were told to go to, no teacher in sight to take me to any shortcuts or to keep an eye on me. I sit in the line of students on the hot concrete behind the stage (where everyone else stood) in my comfiest, most supportive shoes that clashed with my graduation dress, among the girls in their best heels.

I graduate in the same way I took PE class- without her help.

Afterwards, she finds me. After I've walked and sat on hot concrete and sweated and been dizzy and steadied myself on walls and the ground.

She says, in the most condescending voice I could possibly imagine, that I seem to have been fine without her help.

It was obvious to me. This final act, this final stretch of forced self-sufficience on my part had solidified it to her- I had never needed all the help I had seeked. All the complaining had been just that- complaining. Skipped classes were truancy. To her, I'm sure I'm long forgotten as one of the lazier students she's ever had.

I don't recall her name but I remember her face as clear as day. I remember how I felt every damn time I walked to the dressing room, the pain as I took my backpack off in the locker rooms and felt how much my back hurt from it. I remember her every time my knee crunches as I stand up from my desk chair, every time I'm out of breath. Every time my shoulder aches after tossing a stray ball to the kids across the street from my grandmother's house.

I remember how she made me feel.

I want to wave my cane in her face. I want to make her take my vitals and WATCH as the blood rushes out of my face as I stand, to WATCH as my heart rate goes from 65 resting to 120+ as I stand up. I want her to hear how my joints crack and pop and snap. I want her to see my kneecap sickeningly glide out of place and into the side of my knee. I want her to have been in the same room as my mom and I when my Cardiologist said my oxygen levels from POTS hypoxia could have been confused with that of someone in heart failure. I want her to know how I cried in the car after that appointment.

Not because I want her to be miserable and sick with guilt, but because I want to prove to her that I wasn't a liar. I wasn't faking it. i wasn't seeking attention.

But I can't do any of that, not that it would help anything if I was able to and did. All I can do is sit here and type and seethe, as my wrist pain starts to shoot into my forearm and as my hands and feet grow cold from blood pooling- I've been sitting and typing too long, and now my hand skin is mottled and my feet are growing purple with that so-called 'invisible' disability that nobody saw in me.

I don't want consolation. I don't want pity. I don't need sympathy, though I appreciate it. What I want is for this to stop happening. I want disabled people to be seen and to stop being forced to do things that are harmful to their bodies. I want for schools to stop giving a letter grade to someone's health. I want some random thirteen year old to not have to go through what I did at their age.

I WANT PEOPLE TO FUCKING LISTEN TO KIDS WHEN THEY SAY THEY'RE IN PAIN.

[elizabethrobertajones]

Really here for Miss Bounding Frog, but I wanted to thank you for becoming a Wyll BG3 appreciation blog. Because while I've no interest in playing the game myself, he's just so charming and lovely and always a joy to have on my dash

You: is today the day I blacklist the bg3 tag? Wyll: *smiles with his whole heart out of a gifset* You: .... naaah he can stay, he seems polite.

You made me realise he and Frog are fairly alike in that I try to go for girlprince in her glams a lot of the time and he's just pure disney prince (but a devil).

(spoilers for BG3 musing on their similarities)

Also I guess their personalities are pretty similar in that they remain genuinely well-meaning heroes after going through it all. Like, the vacation before Dawntrail has been fun but Frog would still absolutely throw herself back into the fire when the self-sacrificing bullshit returns. She slept Endwalker off in a week and then was confused about why the scions were treating her with kid gloves. "Look, I'm upright again! What next??" "Have you tried this adventure called 'retiring to the beach'?"

I know a looot of people have rightfully tired or grumpy WoLs who are completely done with being asked to do things and people Assuming you will be the hero, or being in the crosshairs of the universe, but I did want to write a WoL who was genuinely hype to be here and would take it on the chin with old school heroic stoicism. However gutting everything is she's like, well, we hear-feel-think this trauma and on the other side we understand and respect what it did to us and move on stronger. And then forgive everyone who caused it. (she's very annoying)

Mr Of Frontiers over there had his tragic backstory at 17, a year younger than when Frog started adventuring (intentionally with no tragic backstory, I wanted her to be in it for love of the game) and I'm hypocritically declaring she was more than old enough because I say so and Wyll was a KID just a LITTLE GUY... but also Alphinaud doesn't exist in BG3 thankfully so there's no need to debate when kids should be allowed to be in charge of armies - although I think Alphinaud and Wyll should have a catch up and maybe learn some things about how they were doomed by the narrative together...

Anyway Wyll's various endings aside from the one where you set him up to be a Duke in the city (which I did on my Astarion play since Astarion is marrying him, craves creature comforts, and was presented with not even a persuasion check to decide Wyll's entire future, which is shockingly cruel of the game) he will just go back to adventuring and saving people. Like, a guy who can legitimately retire off the back of everything that just happened and return forgiven or at least as a hero if you did get his dad murdered to not be around to forgive him, and he's like... Actually, the People Need Me, I'm going to go write the next chapter of my life as an itinerant hero killing monsters and swashbuckling all day.

Also, aside from him definitely having whatever's wrong in his brain that Frog has (and Meteor Finalfantasy who is ready to Dawntrail also and is swashbuckling), he does also have the WoLbrain when it comes to Just Saying Messed Up Things. He's so funny and sarcastic and would absolutely fit in with WoLs who pick all the weird dialogue options. WoL can make moogle noises at Thancred? Well, Wyll over here will meow at you.

He also genuinely thinks clowns are funny, and every year the WoL earnestly goes along with a demon clown halloween event so there's that.

[pisscreant]

Fic Update

So due to my hiatus, the future of my fics, especially the bodyswap crackfic, is uncertain. If anyone wants to continue my Disco Elysium fics or use stuff from them, feel free! Just link me and credit me!! (Bc ngl, I still want a bit of credit even tho you can't own fanfic. It's just like a pat on the head ;v;)

You don't need to ask permission at all, but I'd love you to let me know! I won't be logged in here, but I have email notifs. You can also directly email me at artiesanscheese@proton.me

Besides silly ego reasons, I also want to get back into DE eventually. So I want to save your link to read it one day, especially if it has a happy/hopeful ending! Even if there's no happy ending, maybe in the future I'll have matured to a place where that'll be just as fun.

Soon, I'll post again one more time with ideas I had for separate future fics.

Have an except from ch 2!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Psst! Kimbo. Hot stuff. Sweet cheeks. Forget the prices on the menu. It's our treat. You deserve a *real* breakfast.

YOU - No.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Yes! Just think of that juicy, dripping plate of pure sugar. Fluffy pancakes absolutely smothered in syrup. The tart kiss of fruit on your tongue. We should eat that for every meal until the end of time. Together.

YOU - The dull ache in your newly crooked jaw flares as you clench it out of habit. You pointedly take another piece of wholemeal toast.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Come on, baby! Put down the bland shit. Let me show you all the sweetness that these new taste buds can detect!

YOU - When you had thought that Harry had an addictive personality, this is not quite what you meant.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Yeah well, when I thought I wanted you inside us, this wasn't what I meant, either.

YOU - You choke. The bread in your mouth almost goes flying across the table.

If you're curious, below were my plans for the bodyswap. All cws from the fic like ableism and racism still apply.

I had decided to make the whole thing follow Kim's pov bc Skills.

Through the story, both Kim and Harry grow kinder to themselves about their own struggles through coaching each other through life in their bodies.

Kim dislikes the Skills at first. He feels that they're harmful and gets defensive about how they talk abiut Harry. He also is alarmed about how Pain Threshhold and Half Light talk about harming themselves and harming others.

At one point, Kim in Harry's body experiences a stress-induced Loop when people get suspicious about how Harry's acting. "I'm not feeling like myself today." x100 Not comedic framing, I wrote it as distressing to experience bc it is.

Harry as Kim experiences racism and almost gets into several altercations. Kim has to intervene each time. Kim coaches Harry on how to adjust his posture and demeanour to discourage would-be hecklers. Harry hates that this is necessary.

Kim notices the green and yellow outlines of Harry's 'Detective vision' and thinks of them as hallucinations and discounts their significance.

Volition is desperately trying to run damage control.

Physical Instrument and Endurance take turns both complimenting Kim's strong body and indirectly insulting him with their 'bino' talk.

I have fun with Half Light turning aggressively protective. I know he's antagonistic to outside threats, but I think he can also be angry and scared for people that he cares about.

Harry is distressed af by the quiet and asks Kim to talk and fill the silence. Idk the comfort plus Kim awkwardly trying to ramble for him was cute.

Kim unsuccessfully tries to pop psych-away ARB and Limbic System. By the end of the story, he instead accepts them as people who are suffering just like Harry. The dream duo aren't nearly as antagonistic towards Kim as they are to Harry. In fact, they warn him away to 'save' Kim. They do however enjoy insulting Harry and having Kim getting protective. (Despite it all, it feels good to them that Harry is loved, even tho they can only find out in a twisted way)

Kim slowly grows to appreciate and bond with the Skills. He gets to use them on a case, and he Ace's Highs them by clapping Harry's hands together. ❤️

Kim and Harry eventually find the solution to the body swap. Harry learns to overcome his awkward secretiveness about his Skills as he coaches Kim through his first real Shivers check. Kim learns to be more open about the Skills' expertise and how they help Harry.

They learn that the solution is to fall asleep and dream in the tent again. The phasmid chemicals + the Pale switched them, and they can switch back the same way.

Fun twist: at the end, the Skills call out to Kim from Harry, and Kim can hear them!

Kim now had 25 boyfriends. It's implied they will fuck nasty about it. The end.

[mrbexwrites]

Fun Facts About Me (Tag Game)

Tagged by the awesome @surroundedbypearls and you can learn all about her here

Tagging @sam-glade @at-thezenith @sarahlizziewrites @words-after-midnight @cee-grice@deanwax @queen-tashie, as well as leaving an open invite to play

A Scent You Love:

I love a citrus smell- candles, body wash, shampoo, you name it, if it smells like citrus, I am sniffing it!

What's Something You're Looking Forward To This Week?

I changed my bed linen today. I'm looking forward to about 8 hours from now, when I climb out of a hot bath, put on clean PJs and burrito myself in my fresh bed covers. Pure, unadulterated bliss.

What's A Book You're Currently Reading?

I've not had much time for reading due to my evening classes. I have five weeks left, so looking forward to getting my reading and writing time back. Just before my class started, I was reading Jimmy the King by Gus Garcia-Roberts; a chonk of a true-crime book. I got about 100 pages in before I lost my free time, and I'm excited to pick it up and read it again.

What's A Game You're Currently Playing?

Again, not had much time for gaming lately either. A couple of weeks ago, I jumped back onto my island in Animal Crossing: New Horizons to tackle the weeds, and I've watched Mr Bex play some Starfield. (And when I say watched, I mean, backseat gamed with him as he's bad for missing loot. I have to point it out to him all the time!)

What's The Most Recent Movie You Watched?

Last weekend, I treated myself to an afternoon off, and we went to the cinema to watch The Marvels.

And then Quiz Lady on Disney+ in the evening, because I love Awkwafina, and it's such a good film.

Are You Watching Anything On TV Or Listening To Any Shows?

Just finished OFMD season 2, then tried to watch A Murder At the End of the World, but just couldn't get into it. So currently looking for a new show. Heard good things about Culprits

Favorite Season?

Autumn- I can come home from work and put my PJs on without judgement. It's hot chocolate season, and hiding under blankets, wearing jumpers and just generally building up to bunker down for winter-time.

What's Something You've Learned Recently?

I'm now in the specialisation section of my evening course, so currently trying to get to grips with the SOLID principle of computer programming. It made my brain dribble out of my ears x.x

Have You Had Any Water Lately?

Tea has water in it . I'm perfectly hydrated *cough*

[rosaprose]

6.29.24

my plans for the night w my friend fell through when i got a sudden call from work asking me to come in. i knew it must have been busy as all hell (if my coworker calling me while she was busy on the floor was any indication), so unsurprisingly i felt i couldn't say no. all i could think about, all i ever think about, is how i'd just wish someone else would help out like i am when i'll eventually need it. "practice saying no, girl!" marissa said to me before, and she's right. i'm trying bit by bit to work on it, but i still feel utterly terrible everytime i say no to a coworker. in any case, the day went by well enough. by the time i got there, the crowds that the ladies had been dealing w had already dispersed, making them both apologetically explain themselves, but they didn't need to. i knew just as well as them how fickle the crowds can get; just bc things clear out one second doesn't mean the place won't get packed in another minute, it's purely a matter of chance w this sorta stuff. to get mad at them would just be silly, so i tried my best to redirect my anger (if any at all) to rachel for having been the reason behind my getting called in in the first place. knowing that by/at 7pm i was supposed to have been enjoying cocktails w marissa and some other friends of hers, likely over a game of mario party, was no fun, but eventually that bummed out feeling began to fade as i distracted myself w running around and helping customers. w the constant steady stream of people coming in even after our exit's doors were closed for the night, it was at least good to know that the shift went by pretty quickly. and what's more, it started w another employee sale of fixture rugs, all marked five dollars a pop. i joked w the ladies that i needed to treat myself as i bought a rug, struggling to carry it in, then convinced dad to come on over and buy one, himself. having already bought one for myself last sale, i bought this one for mom, and luckily i managed to pick the very one she wanted without needing her to tell me. we also had a funny mystery w a nasty bottle of zero proof whiskey that had been returned earlier in the day; it smelled absolutely horrendous, but since no one's out here drinking non-alcoholic whiskey, it was difficult to decide whether it smelled like that bc it had gone bad, or bc it's supposed to smell bad. after chasing down some other associates at front end to get a whiff of this nasty, terrible biological weapon in a bottle, i eventually got an answer by way of one of our regulars, our jameson guy, who worked as a bartender for many years before covid. after demanding that he smell smth real quick and subsequently laughing about that, he needed only one whiff and a glance at the bottle to know that it was "skunked," aka, a bottle that hadn't been sealed properly, and had this fermented when it shouldn't have, leading to the nasty smell and soiled look of the liquid. it was cool having him teach me about that, it (along w getting to spend so much time w yvonne and just chatting away) was smth i really needed after how out of it i was that morning/afternoon. so even though I'm tired and more than a little frustrated, i'm glad i came into work today, and not just bc work offers me time away from home, which granted, i definitely needed and still need.

[mjrkime]

Okay, I reblogged a fair amount of nice stuff for today. Now I'm ready to endulge into my daily does of smart words. Because sometimes an unexplainable desire to sound smart takes over me and I need to let it out like a temper tantrum as a way to not let it marinade. Otherwise I might actually believe that I'm smart and bother too many people after awhile 8D

Also, coffee tastes like crap today. Coffee machines are tricky devils.

Anyway...

Idk if anyone relates to this, but I know how it feels when the only desire to have in life is a desire to not exist or just "be left alone", "be at peace". When I've been crawling through my postgraduate program in University on sheer willpower, I remember thinking how what I'm doing doesn't make sense, how anything I've ever done doesn't make sense. Back then I started to realise that the path I've tried to follow in life was never meant to be enjoyable or, most likely was never meant for me. I was waiting for happiness to finally come to me, but alas it never did. Because a) there was no foundation for it and b) there is no such thing as permanent happiness. Fortunately, I had funds to start therapy right around that time. But with all that, it became apparent to me that not only was I completely baffled by the fact that there was no tasty treat waiting for me around the corner to compensate for years of suppressing copious amounts of anger, but it also occurred to me that I never really wanted anything. As in a sense of... goals, motivations and stuff. I couldn't shut up about not being happy in life, couldn't stop complaining and whining, but when people got fed up with it and started asking me "Okay, what do you want?!" I had no direct answer. All that came to my mind was "nothing". I can't say I came over it. It feels better and people around me say that it's better, but it annoys me that I just can't rewrite certain parts of myself. There are still times when I'm angry at others for being more successful/motivated/confident/rich than me, but as I get more and more stuck up, the success of others starts mattering less and less. Except for the times when I'm knocked out with anxiety, but I know that mouthing angry words towards anyone who just happened to have what I didn't won't solve something that can't be solved. Because a lot of life is up to pure luck. I'm lucky for many reasons. It's only funny, though, how with that unexplainable line of lucky coincidences I have failed to find happiness completely. This bothers me still, sometimes more, sometimes less. Because it feels like the universe is giving me all the instruments and cringes immensely when I'm just missing the point. The universe doesn't give a crap, of course, but that's besides the point. When I'm feeling better nowadays I think about ways to discipline myself, like starting to workout again, eating better, and going for walks more often. All these things never fulfilled me because I expected them to "fix" me. There was supposed to be that one magic pill that would've changed everything. Of course there wasn't and there never will be. Getting better was always a process and I'm actually afraid to confidently say that I really got better. More or less, it just feels appropriate to think that if I'm not struggling to go over the same obstacle the way I struggled before, it might actually be better. Funny thing as well, my lifelong pattern was to rely on fictional characters for delivering me the experiences that I was gravely afraid of getting through myself. Living life felt forbidden because I felt dead and it only recently occurred to me that life just isn't fun because it doesn't look like my fantasies about it, lol. It still feels safer to live through certain experiences through fictional characters, but I certainly don't feel as detached and dissociated from my current self.

Idk where I was going with this. I guess, if you found this post and you felt something similar, hey, you're not alone. I won't sugarcoat and say that 'if I got better, you can too' as it feels like applying an additional pressure where nobody wants it. Plus, we all know that a lot of things are up to just luck and circumstances, so it's safe to say... We all might get better, we might not. It's just fucking impossible to tell what's going to happen the next day, the next week, the next year. But what really helped me to move was anger. Not a hurt self-hatred kind of anger, not a toddler tantrum kind of anger, not a misplaced hatred, but a charged response to the circumstances that's directed towards my own betterment. "How dare that arse play an instrument better than me? I'll dedicate days to get better, practice and then I'll show 'er!" . I don't know how to get into this pool of energy every time I need it. But that's what gets me into the driving mode. Good anger 8D

The only thing that remains a mystery to me is feeling shame during various social situations. I'm still very afraid of confidence and people that are extremely guarded and firm in what they believe. I don't know how to win arguments and how to not be infuriated by people not agreeing with me or disliking things that I love. Yeah, it's almost like the world doesn't revolve around me but my psyche is still on toddler level in this case. When I'm on my own it's absolutely fine, but when it's with people... Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. I swiftly devolve into a specific shape of immature and it doesn't ever get easier. Fuck socialising, man. If the world were to be run by machines, it would be better. Just... Let me not interact with living breathing humans when it comes to a doctor's visit or when I need to apply for a job or when I fucking want to go somewhere. I don't feel panicked during these moments, but man would it be easier if there would be just about 10000 people on earth and we all communicated through reblogs, lol.

That's it, I better stop right there otherwise it's a good chance I'll get back to the whining toddler state.

[sukirichi]

good girl (m.)

You’re such a good wife to Naoya that he rewards you for your obedience.

request. naoya coming home to his beloved little housewife and feels like giving her a treat for being such a good girl.,,.,, read: man’s gonna re-arrange your guts and have some soft moments with you after (not that he would ever admit that shsghshsj)

cw. explicit smut, riding, dirty talk WITH praising bcos why not, dom! husband naoya, sexism, overstimulation, creampie, lots of kissing, titty sucking, you might end up liking naoya and that’s a warning

note. LISTEN. this is purely self indulgent even if this is a request. my bestie requested this to me anyway so ik she won’t mind i pictured myself as the reader :) so if you don’t like how the reader and naoya was portrayed, that’s a you problem :) EDITED BECAUSE IT’S NAOYA YAY, also got inspired by @caizen​ ‘s ask about naoya wanting his wife to not bow too deep because he wants to see her face :)

[part of the trophy wife collection]

Being Naoya Zen’in’s trophy wife required a lot of things. You had to be immaculate, précised, refined and full of dignity in everything you did. He already did the work all by himself just to keep the house running, his hard work the only reason you were able to live such a comfortable, luxurious life. On top of that, you had an extremely powerful man trusting you to welcome him every night, and who were you to not fulfill your duty as his wife well?

The moment the black limousine parked on the driveway, the guards lined on duty opening the doors of him and the rest of the house staff greeting him, you were already in front of everyone.

Keep your head down, but don’t look too hard at your feet. Naoya-sama wants to see your face – his lovely wife’s face – upon his arrival.

He would never say it out loud, but five years and counting of marriage with him meant you knew him better than anyone. Through his confident and arrogant self, Naoya worried about a lot of things, you included. There were times he’d wake up in the middle of a nightmare in which he lost you, his arms scrambling to find your body to press it against his for reassurance. You were there, you would always be there, but the confirmation never hurt.

You bowed down to him, skin cleared, cheeks flushed, and lips glossy – all telltales of a happy, nurtured wife who was well taken care of – present before him. And you were beautiful too; the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid his eyes on.

“Welcome home, Naoya-sama.”

Naoya’s shoulders immediately relaxed at the sight of you dressed in your yukata, hair done perfectly and hands clasped politely in your lap. He tried not to let it show too much though, even though his staff had watched him grow up, he needed to keep his pride as the clan leader. Not even his precious wife could make him tear down his walls in public, though you did not need to worry about his brash attitude, following him inside three steps behind as he’d instructed.

He loosened his tie and dismissed the other servants, locking the door of your shared room. “Is my tea prepared?”

“Yes, Naoya-sama, mixed with jasmine just as you like.”

Naoya’s hands stilled on his tie. His gaze fluttered over yours, eyes still ducked down to the floor with a small smile playing on your lips, one that said welcome home in more ways than one.

The sight of you – so compliant and meek as ever – stirred something deep within his heart. His whole life, he believed women were useless, creatures that were below him. Until now, he held firm in that, but fuck, you were always so open and willing to do everything he asked that he could feel himself hardening in his pants. Women may be useless, but once they followed his orders and praised him so heavenly the way you did?

He fucking loved it.

Naoya’s tie went flying the other room, his cock swelling in his pants as he tugged you by your wrist. You landed on the mattress behind you, watching with a heaving chest as your husband crawled above you. His gaze felt predatory, dark eyes hooded with lust while he planted his knees beside your waist, his fingers looped with yours.

You smiled sweetly up at him, so temptingly sweet his resolve broke for a split second. He captured your lips to taste you on him, the sounds of your husband’s satisfied hum making your chest puff out with pride.

Everyone may look down on you for marrying such a ‘horrible’ man like him, calling you stupid and immoral, even going as far as claiming you were nothing but a dumb cock-hungry slut, but Naoya – even you – knew better. You were not foolish; in fact, no one could handle Naoya’s attitude better than you did, and you were smart enough to keep buying that strawberry flavored lip balm he loved so much, causing your husband to squeeze your palms.

“Good girl,” he mumbled absentmindedly, the praises shooting heat flush to your core. “You’re so good for me, you know that?” he peppered kisses all over your skin, a gesture so rare that you were panting underneath him, resisting the urge to rub your legs together.

Naoya was extremely skillful in bed, his virility as a man not to be looked down on for his ability to render you immobile to walk, throat sore and voiceless for a few days truly impressive. But he was different today; his usual tight grip the same but laced with a want that went beyond than lust. You could never say it out loud, especially not around him, but it was clear – Naoya treated you with affection and care.

“I’m very lucky to have found such a submissive woman like you, but that’s not true is it? Women like you aren’t found, you’re trained,” he harshly tugged the first layers of your yukata to the side, exposing the sensitive flesh of your collarbone that was free for him to mark. “Have I trained you well, my wife?”

“Yes, Naoya-sama, trained me so good,” you rasped out, bringing your legs forward, only for it to bump against the sides of his waist.

Naoya sucked on your skin until he was sure he’d completely marked his territory, the grazing sensation of his teeth so erotic and passionate along with his clothed cock rubbing into your folds. His hand trailed down your waist, yanking the ties of your clothes apart. You gasped as he teasingly rubbed your clit, even going as far as to roll it between his strong fingers. “For you, ah, I’d do anything for you, Naoya-sama.”

“It’s my love when we’re in the sheets,” he corrected you, “When a woman knows her place and obeys me so well, a good girl like you deserves to be rewarded,” hearing your small whines at his words, Naoya chuckled at your skin. “Do you want that? Want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes, p-please, I need you,” you moaned wantonly, gathering the courage to lift your hips up and grind it against his erection. He surprised you by not pushing you away, so you kept going, slathering your wetness all over the front of his pants. “Fuck me, my love, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Naoya smirked, standing up to rid himself of his pants and belt. You whined at the loss of contact and sat up on your elbows, legs spread wide open as you feasted on the delectable way he discarded his clothing one by one. His fat cock, red and flushed with pre-cum, slapped against his toned upper body.

You would’ve groaned at his bare beauty, but he’d already crawled on top of you once more, completely ridding you of the multiple layers of modest clothing you wore, revealing a redolent set of white lace.

Naoya narrowed his eyes at the nearly transparent thong, his hands cupping your seeping cunt with a low hum. “Is this for me? Did my pretty baby get dressed up for me?” you nodded eagerly, pathetically reaching upwards to wrap your arms around him. You were growing needy, soft yet desperate as your stuttered gasps hovered on his ear. “Were you thinking of me the whole time I was away for work?”

“I always think of you, my love,” you breathed out, “Your smile, your voice, your lips, your hands,” legs twitching, you dared run your knee to brush his forearm, the teasing and confident movement earning you a seductive, warning glare from your dominant husband. But oh – you were just starting to have your fun. “Your cock inside me.”

“Naughty little girl,” he snickered, grabbing your hand and shoving it deep inside your panties. That evoked a high-pitched moan from you as your nails grazed against your shaved pussy, Naoya’s smirk present the harder he pressed your palm on yourself. “Did you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself like this?” He was testing you, reminding you of his power and authority, trying to see if you would break his rules that he’d been so firm into fucking deep into your skull.

Naughty as you might be sometimes, you never forgot your place. You were daring, but never in your wildest dreams would you dare go against him. Not because you were plain weak and submissive, but simply because the thought of pleasing him more and feeding his ego was far more satisfying.

You shook your head, pitiable tears already shining through. “N-no, I would never. Only you can make me feel good, just you, mmh.”

Naoya groaned deep in his throat, satisfied at your answer. “You’re always so sweet for me,” he says, leaning over to knee your legs open wider. He situated himself between your body, slow and sensual in removing your bra and panties, the lacy material disappearing somewhere on the black marbled floors. You laid there, vulnerable and wanting, clutching at his biceps as he grinded his cock on your puffy folds. “Have I ever told you’re the perfect little wife? So fucking needy for me always, fuck. This pussy was made for me.”

“This pussy is yours,” you acquiesced, breathing hard when Naoya pulled away to peer at your body. He liked his wife to be healthy, strong and ready to carry his child whenever he wanted, and his hands squeezed your hips appreciatively.

“I exist purely to serve you, my love,” you vowed, “I have no other purpose than to make you feel good and love you. You’re my everything, the world and more.”

He’d looked at you with lust before, the desire pooling in his eyes always making you feel wanted, but this was different. Naoya would never let those cursed three words fall from his mouth, but it shone clearly in his eyes anyway. He gazed at your curves and dips so lovingly that your arousal peaked, slick coating his cock from where he was slowly teasing your cunt with his tip.

Unable to hold back any longer, Naoya flipped you over. Your breath knocked out from your chest at the sudden movement, his hands tugging at your wrist to pull you close to him. He leant back on the bed, kissing you feverishly all the while keeping you shaking on his thigh. Due to your wetness gushing, you slid down his muscular thigh, and you moaned at the contact. “As I should be,” Naoya nibbled at your lips, his harsh words contrasting the tenderness of his hold on you. “You’re nothing to me if you can’t even do something as simple as that.”

You nodded with no hesitation, fully accepting that you were purely his now – and you would honestly not have it otherwise.

Naoya helped you lift your hips up, shushing you with a slap on your ass when you stared at him nervously.

Every time Naoya fucked you, he was direct and simple. He preferred to have you on all fours where he could focus on his own pleasure, or sometimes he would rather cum upon seeing your fucked-out face, the image of your tongue lolled out while he fucked you on oblivion enough to make him nut right away.

But now he was guiding your arms around his neck, kissing the sides of your lips as if to answer your silent questions. “Sit on my cock, baby, I’ll reward you for your obedience tonight,” he said, his cock twitching as he directed your entrance right above his cock. Naoya slid you down, allowing you to feel inch by inch, thick vein upon one another – sliding inside you and stretching you out so good. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead on his, teeth locked on your bottom lip as he bottomed out.

Fuck, you’d never felt so full.

However, Naoya wasn’t pleased. He clenched his jaw and tapped your bottom lip, scolding you with his mean glare. “Don’t hold back when you scream my name, you understand? Cherish this moment – I won’t always care about your pleasure. You should thank me for this.”

“I-I will!”

Torturous. That was how you would describe it. You had never been this close to him before; not in this position and angle. Each lift of your hips caused your hardened nipples to brush over his muscular chest, his attention sorely focused on the way you bounced on his cock.

Something about holding him this close felt so intimate, breaths tangled and moans shared, along with the pleasure delivered into your bodies with the way you were rolling your hips along his length.

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he said through gritted teeth, “I love this pussy so much, fuck, you’re mine. Just mine, all mine,” Naoya eventually lost it, hooking his arms under your armpits and feet flat on the bed. You kept screaming his name like a prayer, the worship falling from your lips like a broken record driving him to fuck into you faster. He’d had enough of your pace; he’d been good enough that now it was his turn to fuck you, and you were glad he did because his fast, brutal pace was so mind-numbing.

Naoya hitched you up higher until your chin rested above his hair, your breasts right at his mouth. He sucked and bit at the soft flesh angrily, grip so tight on your hips you were hissing from the pain. At the same time, it felt so fucking good unlike everything you’ve ever felt.

“My perfect fucking wife—a quiet, compliant wife is worth more than gold, baby. You’re my fucking treasure.”

Naoya thrusted hard and deep until the bed was creaking, mattress dipped from both your weight. The room felt so foggy with your lovemaking and you tightened around him, crying as he kept hitting that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars. “I’m c-coming!” you whined helplessly, hugging your husband deep to your chest while your fingers tugging at his hair. “Naoya, please!”

“Then come for me,” he nibbled at your ear, delivering another hard slap at your ass. “I’m allowing you to. Come. Make a mess around me.”

“Oh my gosh, ugh, fuck,” you came around him hard, your orgasm making you shake. He still wasn’t done, but his breathless murmurs of close, I’m so close had you holding him tighter, whispering dirty words in his ear to assist your husband into reaching his high. The oversensitivity of him plowing into you even after you came was too much, but you took it all like the good wife you were. Biting the protests down at your tongue, you rode him to meet his hips thrust by thrust, his balls snapping at your ass. “Mmmh, I love you, I love you. I-I love you.”

“As you should, baby. You’re supposed to love me,” Naoya devoured your mindless babbling by sliding his tongue inside your mouth, his hips stilling inside for a moment. Fingers clutching desperately to him, you shut your eyes tight, cunt dripping as Naoya spilled his seed deep inside you.

You kissed him one last time in refusal to let go, but Naoya wasn’t having any of it. He was very iffy every after sex that you had no choice but to pull away from him, wincing as he pulled out.

He stumbled into the bathroom afterwards while you laid there on the soiled sheets, weakly fisting the pillow beneath you. You were so fucked out, tired after a long day of managing everything he wanted you to take care of. To be fucked good by your husband…there was truly no better way of life.

Just as you were drifting off, you felt something damp sliding over your inner thighs. You blinked sleepily at a silent Naoya, sending him a small smile as he wiped both your cum away. He left the towel inside the bathroom before he came back, sliding his white shirt over your frame and tugging a fresh pair of his boxers to your legs. Aftercare with Naoya…while it wasn’t impossible, it also wasn’t a daily occurrence. Your heart kept fluttering inside your chest, that feeling blooming harder when he slid under the sheets beside you, his strong arms pulling you taut in his chest.

His skin remained mark free. You knew Naoya hated being marked; reminding you all the time he wanted to be flawless. You respected that and pressed a deep kiss on the spot above his heart instead, madly and hopelessly in love as you traced circles on his bare chest.

You could stay like this forever, in the warmth and safety of your husband’s arms, but you still had wifely duties to fulfill. Naoya had already done his, prompting you to lean up to trace kisses at his sharp jaw, sweet and docile as ever as you asked, “Naoya…how was work today?”

“Same as usual.”

That meant he didn’t want to talk about it, so you didn’t pry further.

“You need to rest and regain your strength so you can work hard again tomorrow,” you mumbled sleepily, “I’ve already planned your meals for the next week. We’re going plant-based for a while, you need it.”

Naoya remained silent. You would’ve assumed he’d fallen asleep if it wasn’t for his hand caressing your back in a manner so gentle that seemed so alien with him, the strangeness of it all intensified when you looked up at his face, only to see that he had already been studying your features a long time before. There was an unsettled frown on his face, one that you tried to smoothen away with the pads of your fingertips. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve already forgotten about all my worries. They don’t matter anymore,” he whispered, his voice way too soft. It fit the atmosphere, however, whatnot with the newfound intimacy that you basked in. Suddenly, Naoya cupped your cheek, utterly serious as he croaked out, “Baby.”

“Hmm.”

“Do you love me?”

You didn’t have to think twice about it. The answer would be – “Always and forever.”

However, Naoya wasn’t satisfied. He needed more, wanted to understand more, craved to find a logical reason behind your devotion to him.

“Why?” he demanded, “What is it about me you love so much?”

“Everything,” you confessed, the love so clear in your eyes that even for a small moment, Naoya felt like he understood now. “You’re perfect to me, Naoya. I’m glad you’re the one I’m spending my life with. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“But why?”

“Because,” you giggled, “You’re handsome, you’re caring even if you don’t show it that much, you’re smart, ambitious, hardworking and the best husband I could ask for,” Naoya opened his lips, probably to ask a stupid why again, until you cut him off, silencing your odd husband with a kiss. Thankfully, Naoya gave in, relaxing at your touches. “Loving you is second nature to me. It’s not living if it’s not loving you.”

Although he didn’t – and would never say I love you – he had his own way of expressing it. He let you know that he shared the same stance at you, staring deep into your eyes while he cupped your cheek, surprisingly somber as he proudly said, “I made the right decision of marrying you.”

“I’m glad you don’t regret it.”

“I could never regret it,” he whispered back, but you had already fallen asleep. That night, you dreamt no more. There was no need to when everything you’ve ever wanted was already right there at your reach, and Naoya joined you long after, the faint linger of a loving kiss a husband only ever gave to his wife the last thing you felt before you faded off into dreamland.

[hollandsmoose]

kiss me more

A/N: Kinda thought a lot about "Kiss Me More" by Doja Cat and SZA a lot when writing this. So here you go, my lads, here's 1.6k of basically just pure blowjob smut!

—————

The movie playing on the TV in Tom’s room is long forgotten, his lips on yours far more important right now. It had barely been on for ten minutes before his hand was up your shirt, his mouth on yours, and you were pinned underneath him. But, to be honest, it's what you expected to happen.

Freshly returned from filming in another country, Tom has barely let you leave his side. He's always been clingy after reuniting with you, but, this time, it's on a whole new level. You can hardly complain, though - not with the amount of times he's made you cum in the last week.

Sadly, all of that had to come to a temporary end. Your period made its arrival, and while you knew it was going to happen, it bummed you out nonetheless. So when Tom's hand glides down your front, toying with the waistband of your sweatpants, you're forced to pull away from his kiss.

"Tom…" you pant, breathless, and he gives you a somewhat worried look. "I'm on my period, remember?"

"Oh, shit, yeah," he says, exhaling rather deeply, and even though he tries to hide it, his disappointment is still clear. "I'll keep my hands to myself, then." He shifts a little when moving his hand up to rest beside your head, and as he does, you get to feel just how disappointed he is. His bulge, hard and firm, presses into your thigh, and it gives you an idea.

You may not really be able to get off right now, but that doesn't mean Tom can't. When he leans down to kiss you again, you gladly accept it. Your hand travels down to where his cock is straining against his sweats, palming him through the soft fabric, and you can't help but giggle when Tom helplessly moans into your mouth.

He breaks the kiss, his eyebrows raised. "What are you playing at, darling?"

You grin at him, offering a small shrug. "I just wanna make you feel good, Tommy," You emphasize your words by rubbing his bulge again, and he whines, unable to stop himself from grinding into the palm of your hand.

"But what about you?"

"It doesn't have to be about me," you say, placing a soft peck on his chin. "You've been loving on me all week. Let me love on you a little," He's just about to protest, but then you put your finger over his lips, shutting him up. "Let me make you feel good. Please?"

He hesitates for a moment, but then he nods and presses a kiss to the tip of your finger. You giggle, your heart fluttering, and Tom smiles at the sound of your laugh. After that, he rolls off you and lands on the mattress, the springs squeaking slightly at the movement.

You crawl down the bed and climb off it until you're kneeling on the floor at the foot end. You gently tug on his legs, and he gets the hint, shuffling down the length of the bed. Tom sits up, inhaling sharply at the sight of you on your knees for him, and enthusiastically helps you peel off his sweatpants and boxers. His cock springs up once it's freed from its confinement, hard and already leaking precum from the tip. You're just about to reach out to touch him when he interrupts.

"Wait!" Tom speaks out, and you halt instantly. "Can you… can you take your shirt off?" You snort at his request. You'd actually been worried about him for a second there. Nevertheless, you pull your T-shirt over your head, rolling your eyes at the way he ogles your chest, now only covered by a bra. “That’s my girl.”

With a smile, you finally touch him. You spread the precum over his tip, and Tom sucks in a breath, his thighs clenching and his cock twitching. Teasing him is always fun. He lets out a strangled whimper when you withdraw your hand and spit in the palm of it, well aware of what's going to happen now. His hands grip the edge of the mattress as you finally grasp his length, and you quite enjoy the groan that escapes him.

You start with slow strokes, warming him up gently, and the way he bites his lip to hold back a moan has your pussy clenching around nothing. Fuck, he looks good. You watch Tom intently as he reacts to your touch, and it makes you giggle when you see just how quickly he gets worked up, his cheeks pink and his breath labored. You've always had that effect on Tom, but, to be fair, he's always had the same effect on you too. Even his mere touch is enough to send you into overdrive.

When he releases that telltale, drawn-out whine you know so well, you remove your hand from him. He's getting close, and this isn’t the way you want him to cum. And just when Tom’s about to complain, you lean in further and place a little kiss on his tip, and the words die on his lips.

You begin by just giving him a few kitten licks, but it's enough to make him gasp your name, and you suspect that this really won't take long at all. You rest your hands on his thick thighs, caressing the firm muscles softly. In all honesty, you've lost count of just how many times you've fallen apart on his thighs.

Feeling yourself get distracted, you try and shake off your thoughts so you can get back to business. Back on track, you make your tongue travel up from the base of him, and his cock twitches delightfully when you swirl the tip of your tongue around the head. You're teasing Tom again at this point, and it is a bit unfair, to be honest, but it's fun to watch how desperate he gets. Maybe, if the situation was different, he'd scold you for teasing him like this and leave your ass bruised and sore as punishment, but the ball seems to be in your court today.

"Please, darling," he begs, impatient and needy. "Please just… do something."

"You're gonna have to be more specific than that, Tommy," you say with a voice you barely recognize. It's low and seductive, but it makes you feel quite powerful. "Tell me what you want."

He exhales shakily. "I want… I want your mouth on me… on my cock. Please, love?"

You shrug rather smugly. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

And then you finally give him what he wants. With a deep breath, you take Tom in your mouth. His reaction is instant, his thighs jerking slightly under your touch, and your name falls from his lips in a moan. Your hand wraps around the base of his cock and moves in sync with your mouth, knowing that that's just how he likes it. You go slow and steady; you don't want Tom to topple over the edge just yet.

His hands are still gripping the mattress, his knuckles white, and you know he's trying his hardest not to buck into your mouth. Tom never wants to hurt you - at least, never without your consent. And while you do let him fuck your mouth from time to time, it's not what you want today.

But, as a treat, you pull away from him for a second, inhaling deeply before you wrap your lips around him again and take him as far as you can. When the tip of his cock touches the back of your throat, he practically shouts out a string of profanities, and it's so loud that you're sure the others in the house must've heard. It doesn't matter much to you right now, though. Let them hear.

You're fighting off your gag reflex, trying to breathe through your nose, and tears are forming in your eyes, but Tom looks so pretty that you don't give up just yet. So you keep your head where it is until he, rather unwillingly, pulls you up himself.

He's completely breathless, needing a few seconds before he can even speak. "Babe, I'm… I'm close," You can't help but smile when you hear just how affected he is.

You appreciate Tom's warning, returning to your previous tactic, your lips around the head of him and your hand jerking the base. His one hand lets go of the mattress and caresses your cheek instead, and when you look up to make eye contact, Tom's staring at you with such a wonderful mixture of lust and love that it makes both your pussy and your heart melt a little.

He gasps in that special way you've picked up on by now, and you know what's about to happen. Drawing back a little, you rest the tip of his cock on the tip of your tongue, and, with one last jerk of your hand, he finally gets to cum.

Tom curses uncontrollably as he paints your tongue white, his hand now holding your jaw in place. His head is leant back, his eyes screwed shut, and his mouth is half-open. He looks absolutely beautiful.

You watch him as he slowly comes down from his high, his eyes blinking open and finding your face immediately. And Tom watches you as you swallow his cum and put on a little show for him, licking your lips for any leftovers.

"Fucking hell," he says, completely overwhelmed, and falls back against the bed, and you laugh, satisfied with your work. You crawl onto the bed as well, settling on top of him. "You're gonna be the death of me, darling."

—————

taglist: @spideycents @linanilssonfurberg @to-the-road @hallecarey1 @harryhollandsgirlfriend

[thetorturedmiladep]

The best day

Summary: You're having a cheerful day and Loki is curious about you overflowing in feelings. Word count: 1k Pairing: loki x fem!reader Genre: pure fluff Author’s note: Hi! Hope you enjoy this little drabble, I had so much fun writing it! I got the inspiration from a prompt list (tap here) and I couldn’t contain myself. Also, I love the tension between characters before they admit and vomit their feelings, so expect a lot of that. Happy reading!

Read the Loki-cuddling-incident here. Masterlist

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

There were days when you were at your highest. You felt your chest inflated with pure, joyful emotions and your nature couldn’t keep it in. Your colleagues in the compound were accustomed to dealing with your happy days, in fact, they loved that version of yourself. You would move around the place with ease, humming the lyrics of “So, This Is Love?” Or “La Vie en Rose”, baking cakes and cookies, plastering their cheeks with kisses and their egos with kind, heartwarming compliments. They would always prefer your highest days rather than your lowest ones, those… Those will be left for another story.

However, since the Loki-cuddling-incident, you felt more shy than ever to move around the compound; let alone to sing and dance. And be exposed to everyone else? No way. The fact that Tony gave you a timeout from missions wasn’t helping the cause. You felt trapped, limited and even nostalgic. But the day came when you felt a rush of happiness bubbling up in your chest when you woke up. You reached your highest point and, whether you were ashamed or not, it would be let out. You kissed Lilith on her head, jumped out of bed, and got ready for the day. The cat followed you around the room, meowing and stealing pets and kisses from you.

It was still early in the morning. You had reinforced your training routine to gain strength and you had been practicing magic too. Today was going to be a good day, no doubt about that. You arrived at the training field before everyone else, and when they showed up, you greeted them with the brightest and sweetest smile. Even to Loki, the trickster you have been trying to avoid since the incident, you were too embarrassed to say something about it. And he seemed to enjoy it. He would chuckle every time your eyes met his and your cheeks turned crimson red as a consequence. He found it hilarious but deep down, he was too caught up in making you blush, and smile, and mumble incoherent things with just one of his smirks.

“Someone’s having a good day” he said, stopping his pace to stay beside you.

“Uh, I.. yeah, I guess I am” you almost whispered in a shaky voice. He chuckled, sending you a shiver down your spine. You shook your head and tried to cover the silly smile he had put on your face.

Late in the evening, when everyone was sent to an urgent mission, you were left alone in the compound with just the company of your black cat, Lilith. You made yourself a cup of tea and gave Lilith some warm milk; you two sat on the couch while you finished writing a poem that has been stuck in your head all day.

“I’ll get something to eat, would you like some treats, my little girl?” You sweetly asked your cat, she purred and reached your hand with her paw. That was an absolute yes.

In the kitchen, you pulled out a bunch of ingredients and, with the help of your powers, you began to prepare a strawberry cake. Lilith jumped on the counter and sat there, staring at you. If taken out of context, you would absolutely look like a Disney Princess moving your hands in the air, flying ingredients from one place to the other, humming to a song while swaying in your place.

“You really love love, don’t you?” A deep, raspy voice asked from behind, making you jump and, as a consequence, dropping all of the ingredients over the counter and on the floor. “Pardon me, darling, I didn’t mean to startle you” he apologised, moving his hand to cast a green light that tidied up the whole room. “Loki, I-uh, I thought I was alone” you explained, as if giving him an explanation for the mess. He just answered with a small smile. “So, you love love, so passionate...” he said, taking your poem in his hands and rereading it again. You quickly, and shyly, moved your right hand and, with the help of a gust of wind, brought it back to your hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” you said, pretending not to know what he was talking about. He chuckled, that chuckle. “Thor has informed me about your high and low days, darling,” he explained with a smirk on his face. You turned around to avoid his gaze, your cheeks were turning red, and you felt the heat in them. “But, with all honesty, I didn’t think it was this intense” “Sometimes people can’t control how they feel,” you said, concentrating on mixing the batter. You felt Loki walking towards you. “But for what? Feeling this much… it must be suffocating, I’m absolutely sure it makes you feel helpless” He stated, beside you, stealing a strawberry and bringing it to his mouth. You took a quick glance but immediately set your eyes on cutting the fruit. “It does, sometimes, yes. But hurting, as well as loving, makes us feel alive” You responded, more at ease. Having Loki beside you, stealing your strawberries while having a chat felt like the most normal thing in the world to you. Like it was familiar, like it has always been this way. “It’s beautiful as well as brave… you know, to feel” you declared and this time, you bravely look at him with half a smirk on your lips.

Loki didn’t respond back, he just stared at you. It was a staring contest between the two of you until you felt his finger stroking your hand, and that was when you looked down and hid a smile. You heard his soft chuckle and, when you looked back at him and opened your mouth to say something, you heard: “It smells delicious in here, what are you backing, Witchling?” Tony’s voice echoed in the kitchen and the two of you quickly moved away with crimson red cheeks “Am I interrupting something?”

You both mumbled incoherently, excused yourselves and parted ways, once again.

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part 3 - zuko x fem!reader

I feel so much, I get carried away

part 2 | masterlist | part 4

a/n: enjoy the fluff in this chapter bc its not gonna last

once again for reference - this chapter takes place 2 years after the last one so y/n is 11 and zuko is 12

warning(s): eating/food, but otherwise its pure fluff

wc: 3.3k

chapter title comes from carried away by madison beer!

i ran out of kid zuko gifs so i had to make my own smh if you want something done you gotta do it yourself

The young friendship only flourished after that fateful day. Zuko and Y/N began spending almost all of their freetime together between Y/N teaching him about her culture, their usual talking in the hallways, and finding ways to hang out together outside of her schedule. She was absolutely delighted to be teaching Zuko though, so she always made sure there was time for her self proclaimed academy.

Y/N was constantly busy around the castle, so in order to hang out they had started waking up extra early — the pair had become experts at sneaking around the castle with the first rays of the sun. The gardens were a favourite because of its availability, and of course, the turtleducks. It also gave Y/N a chance to bend outside of healing, something that they began to take advantage of as they got older.

Sparring sessions became a regular between them as a way for Y/N to get some practice with martial bending, Zuko to experience fighting against a waterbender, and just another way for them to spend time together. Of course, they had to keep it as quiet as possible to avoid alerting anyone of their presence, but that became the least of their worries over time.

They each pushed each other to be better, and with Y/N’s healing skills, they were able to walk away every morning without any injuries. But after discovering a very unfair advantage that the prince held, she decided that morning sparring just wasn’t enough.

(“Firebending gets stronger in the morning,” he had told her after a particularly brutal blast resulting in some emergency bending on Y/N’s part to extinguish a tree. “My teachers always say that we rise with the sun.”

“Well,” she had said with a smile. “We rise with the moon. You just signed yourself up for some late night sparring sessions.”)

Y/N had truly started to come into her own. It had been two years since her capture, and though she had in no way made peace with her life in the Fire Nation, she was trying to take advantage of it as much as she could. Even though she despised being at the beck and call of nobles and guards, she couldn’t deny the opportunities it gave her to hone her abilities. Her healing had improved tenfold and her martial bending wasn’t too shabby either. Between all of the time spent with Zuko and practicing her bending, she was able to distract herself from her dim reality.

But the world was a cruel, cruel place, no matter how much she tried to ignore it. It didn’t treat souls like Zuko and Y/N kindly, a fact that they would soon become aware of.

In the moment though, Y/N was more focused on not getting burnt.

She twirled to the side as a small flame shot past her, just barely managing to dodge it as she bent a stream of water out from the pond and sent it at Zuko. He turned it to steam as he blocked it with his own fire, which he then sent back at her with a combination of a punch and a kick. Y/N raised her hands and bent up a large wall of water from the pond, and with a small grunt on her part, sent it flying towards Zuko. He tried to conjure up his own fire shield in an effort to extinguish the water once more, but it was too little too late and he ended up getting knocked to the ground and completely drenched.

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from her lips as Zuko wiped water off of his face, sputtering incoherently while he pushed himself up. “Did you really have to do that?” he complained.

“You know I do.” She grinned as she walked around the pond to his side, cracking her knuckles before she began to bend the water out of his clothes. “This was in the morning, too. Admit it, I’m getting better!”

He cracked a smile of his own. “You really are. I just wish that you getting better didn’t end up in me getting soaked every time.”

She bent the water she had extracted from his clothes back into the pond and held out her hand to help him up from the ground, which he took gratefully. “That just makes it more fun.”

As she helped pull him up, Y/N found herself more than a little transfixed. The rays of the rising sun shone down on him perfectly, and the smile still on his lips made her feel flutter bats in her stomach.

Y/N didn’t know when she had started seeing Zuko in a different light than usual. When his laughs became melodious, his smile like a ray of sunshine on its own, his company coveted. While she was usually able to trade verbal jabs with him without a second thought, doing her self-assigned job of keeping him humble, something had changed in the past year.

They grew steadily closer over the years after they had met, but one event in particular all but pushed Zuko into her arms.

Ursa’s banishment.

Of course, they didn’t know that she had been banished. No one aside from Ozai knew the true nature of her disappearance — to her children and the other inhabitants of the palace, it was just that. A disappearance.

It was suspicious, yes. All in the span of a day, Princess Ursa vanished, Fire Lord Azulon mysteriously perished, and Ozai took his place, but nothing could be done. It was a somber day for every servant — Ursa showed them a kindness that couldn’t be found anywhere else in the palace, and to rub salt in the wound, a man just as cruel as Azulon had risen to the throne.

Zuko was devastated. He had always been close with his mother, and the only thing she had given him before leaving was a short goodbye and a kiss. He was angry beyond belief at the abandonment, and that anger overshadowed his grief.

Y/N tried to help him, but he lashed out at her.

“Your mother is still here and she loves you! Mine left me like I was nothing. Don’t try and say you know how I feel.”

“But my father is gone. I do know how you feel Zuko, and I want to help you, but I can’t help you if you keep pushing me away.”

“…you don’t know anything.”

It hurt, but she knew he needed space. She gave it to him, letting him brew alone and take out his anger however necessary, but let him know that the door was open when he was ready to talk.

He did — he had apologized for what he said and she accepted, and Zuko ended up spilling every emotion he had to her over the next few weeks. She listened, offered advice when she could, and made Zuko feel a little bit less alone in the scheme of it all. It was a horrible experience, but it brought them closer together, and the prince was eternally thankful that he had a friend to help him through the ordeal.

The night that he came to her room, admitting that he was hurting and asking for her help — Y/N thinks that was the moment she fell for him. She cursed herself at the time for developing feelings for her only friend in the palace, but over time she learned to cover them up. She had to remember her place.

She understood her role, but it got harder and harder to keep up with it the more time she spent with Zuko — this moment was no exception.

“Yeah, yeah. I just hold back because I don’t want to burn you.”

“Liar!” she exclaimed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. “You forget that I can heal myself if anything goes wrong. Besides, I know you’d never burn me. I trust you.”

Zuko smiled and smoothed his clothes back down, the only sign of their sparring session now gone. “Good, because I trust you too. No matter how many times you totally drench me.”

She snorted as she started to walk back to the palace. “Like I said, that just makes it more fun. And as fun as it has been completely crushing you in combat, duty calls.”

He sighed, giving a reluctant nod as he started to follow her — then his eyes lit up, and he grabbed her arm to stop them. “Wait, how much work do you have today?”

Y/N thought for a few seconds then shrugged. “Dunno, it varies. I got stuck working with Jaysa all this morning, so that’s going to take forever, I have my usual healing lessons with Master Rika after, and then I usually just end up going around with whatever else comes my way for the rest of the day.” She grinned and lowered her voice as if the subject of the matter could somehow hear her. “I’ve been working on a dress for my mother in secret because her birthday is coming up soon, so the free time I get between my shifts that isn’t spent with you has been going towards that.”

Zuko gaped. “You’re making her a dress all on your own, with no help? How?”

She held up her hands with a proud smile. “These things are good for waterbending, sewing, and hitting best friends.”

He gave her a sideways grin at that. “I’m your best friend?”

Y/N snickered and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, dummy. You’re like, the only person that likes me in this whole nation. Of course you’re my best friend.”

“Well…” he started. “Would a best friend like to break the rules even more tonight?”

Her eyes lit up in turn, completely betraying her excitement despite her attempt to look nonchalant about it. “That depends — what d’you have in mind?”

He grinned and leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper as he spoke in her ear. “So, after you finish work for the night, we…”

-

It was a struggle to get through all of her work after the plan that she and Zuko had formulated — sure, they broke the rules all the time. The basis of their entire friendship was breaking the rules, but this was going farther than they ever had before. Y/N wasn’t thinking about the consequences though, she was thinking about the journey — that was her first mistake.

She had rushed through all of her chores with Jaysa, hardly paid attention in her healing lessons, and made quick work of the rest of her day until she was finally able to meet up with Zuko at one of the various servant entrances that she had shown him.

“You’re finally here!” he exclaimed, his body buzzing with nervous energy. “I thought you were never gonna come.”

“Some of us actually have work to get done, mister crown prince,” she joked as she bumped his shoulder with hers. “But that doesn’t matter — let’s get going before someone catches us! I don’t want it to get too dark either.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Zuko reassured. “My dad is in war meetings all day, no one is going to catch us. Now come on!”

Zuko pushed open the door, grabbed her hand, and began to pull her along. A laugh fell from her lips as they ran, unable to stop herself from casting a cautionary glance behind them as they got farther from the palace. Y/N tried to push her worries out of her mind — like she had told Zuko earlier, she trusted him.

That was her second mistake.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak past the guards around the wall and just as quick to get through Royal Caldera, and before Y/N knew it, they had arrived in the city.

It was nothing like she had ever seen before.

The village she had grown up in was miniscule compared to anything in the Fire Nation, and she was especially awestruck upon entering the city. As home to more middle class citizens than anything, it was a bustling marketplace filled with workers and nobles alike — if she hadn’t been preoccupied with the stars in her eyes, she would’ve been able to see the way Zuko was absolutely beaming at her.

“Come on!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand once again as he began to walk — at a much more moderate pace than their run here — down the streets. “There’s so much here that I wanna show you. Have you ever been out here?”

She shook her head, allowing herself to gawk at her surroundings while they went down the street. “We aren’t really allowed to leave the palace since we’re technically still prisoners, just… ones that work. My mother always had to give her money to one of the other servants so that when they went out to buy their things, they could pick some stuff up for us as well. This is all totally new.”

Once again, a frown found its way onto Zuko’s face, but only for a split second before he pointed at a stall opposite to them. “Oh— there’s a fruit stand! Come on, you have to try this.”

Y/N let Zuko pull her over to the stand, looking at the array of fruits on display while Zuko conversed with the merchant. A few silver pieces later and they were walking away with a basket of produce — miraculously, the prince hadn’t been recognized, so she figured he wouldn’t need a disguise. Third mistake.

“Here,” he said, offering her a mango from the basket. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Fire Nation mango.”

She took the fruit from him and bit into it, her eyes immediately widening as she turned on Zuko. “Tui’s gills, this is delicious! You’re telling me that you people just have this on hand but we don’t get any of it?”

He shrugged and took a fig from the basket as Y/N wiped some juice off of her chin. “There’s a reason I’ve helped you break into the kitchens so many times. Now, where do you wanna go next?”

-

The pair spent the next couple of hours browsing the marketplace, enjoying their day on the Fire Lord’s coin. Zuko was more than happy to show Y/N parts of his culture after all she had taught him, and she was more than happy to experience it. They had been able to buy lanterns for the upcoming Festival of Szeto, purchase their own blends of tea leaves, and of course Zuko insisted on getting fire flakes and gummies.

(Y/N thought he was insane. Why in the world would the Fire Nation want to make food that hurt them on purpose? She was going to stick with her newfound love for mangoes.)

But Zuko hadn’t even brought her to the best part yet.

“Can I open my eyes now?” She asked, her anxious tone betraying her curiosity.

“Now you can.” Y/N was met with Zuko’s grin and as she focused on the stand in front of them, she had to make a conscious effort to not gape.

Zuko had brought her to a sewing stand with all the threads, fabrics, and silks that she could dream of in all kinds of colors. She immediately rushed forward, unable to stop herself from running her hands over and through each and every piece of material — she was in a seamstress’s heaven.

“I take that as a sign you like it?” Zuko asked happily.

“Oh, definitely,” she confirmed, still completely caught up in all the choices. “This is so much better than all the material we’re given to work with!”

“That’s why I brought you here. I thought you could get some stuff for yourself, and some stuff to help with the dress you’re making for your mom. I don’t really know how sewing works, but I thought that this was one way I could help.”

“That is so sweet of you!” she gushed. “Thank you so much — you should probably get around to some of the other stalls because I… I think I’m gonna be here for a while.”

Zuko laughed and fished out of a couple of golden pieces then set them in her hand. “That’s okay. I’ll meet you over by the steps; we can watch the sunset together.”

They nodded as parting gifts and each was enveloped in their tasks; Y/N beginning to ask the merchant questions about everything at their stand and Zuko off to entertain himself for a few more minutes.

Soon enough, Y/N had her own small bundle of silks and fabrics, her mind already going off in a million different ways of how she could incorporate it into the design. She found Zuko sitting on the steps and as she took her own seat next to him, he handed her another mango.

“Did you find everything you wanted?” She nodded and hummed gratefully as she accepted the fruit, taking a bite as her eyes fell on the skyline in front of them.

“I had a really great time today, Zuko. I really can’t thank you enough for taking me out here. I… I think I forgot what it was like to feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“...happy.” She paused for a second before allowing herself to meet his eyes. “All the time I spend with you in the palace… It’s one of the only times that I really do feel happy. And being out here today, getting to walk around where I wanted and buy things and just— I feel free, Zuko. And that means everything to me.”

She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and she turned away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that—“

Zuko gently reached out for her hand, drawing her attention back to him and the soft smile on his face.

“Well… I care about you. You’re nice to me, and you take time out of your day to help me which you don’t have to do. This is just me trying to pay you back for all you’ve done to help me. We can do this more often — whenever my dad’s busy.”

Her own smile grew on her lips and she nodded as she laced her fingers with his. “I care about you too. And.. I’d like that.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder and together, they watched the sunset over the city.

There was no place either of them would rather be.

-

Y/N and Zuko made their way back to the palace as quickly as they could after realizing how late it had gotten. Y/N was sure that she was going to get the talking-to of her life after what she had done, but she was almost giddy after what had just happened. She could deal with any of Kura’s consequences later — right now the only thought in her mind was the feeling of Zuko’s hand in hers.

The night had been nothing short of perfect. She had felt freer than ever before out there in the city with Zuko, and knowing that he reciprocated the feelings she had for him was enough to make her heart burst. She cared for him, and he cared for her.

Of course, there was that nagging question of how they would continue now that their friendship had morphed into something more, but once again — it was something she would deal with later. Her fourth and final mistake.

But as a guard turned the corner, Y/N realized she might not get the chance. She quickly let go of Zuko’s hand and tucked it under the bundle of fabric, hoping that the gesture of affection had been missed by the man.

If he had noticed, he showed no sign of it. He stopped in front of them, a gruff voice speaking from behind the mask with words that made her heart stop.

“Prince Zuko, the Fire Lord has requested an audience with you.”

-

haha OOPS

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27

atla: @marianne1806

[mochiimiiki]

| Be my valentines |

[zhongli, Venti, Childe, Xiao, Kaeya, Diluc x F!reader]

Here’s the scenario:

You’re alone on valentine’s day, probably thinking of your own problems and not paying close attention to the festivities of this new event. That is until he approaches you.

You’re standing alone in Liyue harbour. Watching the people of Liyue busy themselves down below. It was easy to distinguish the couples from the singles, as they all seemed to flock together.

You don’t notice the geo archon approaching until he clears his throat.

To which you’re obliged to spin around and face your contender, to your surprise you’re met with a familiar simple smile. A smile in which the last few months you had grown accustomed to.

You countered back with your own cheerful smile, eyes squinting against the sunlight as wrinkles formed around your eyes.

Your expression was priceless to the archon. Something that he would gladly die laying his eyes upon it for a final time.

Now unbeknownst to you Zhongli had made it his mission to confess his feelings to you, afterall Zhongli new all of Liyue’s history and he new today was a day of not only couples celebrating but of confessions.

The archon pulled a magnificent bouquet of glaze lilies out from behind him. He watched as your eyes lit up in twinkles and you gladly accepted his gift.

Clearing his throat he begun. “Y/N in the last few months we have spent together I have found myself growing rather... attached persay.”

“I was wondering if you would do me the honours of—”

“Yes!” You cheered, cutting himself off mid sentence.

“You didn’t even allow me to formally ask, it’s not official until I do so.” This grandpa and contracts I tell you.

Anyways in the end he officially asked you to be his girlfriend to which you joyously accepted and you spent the rest of the day together, showering each other in love.

Troubles long forgotten.

You’re actually relaxing in mond as you listen to your little bard friend play. He’s singing and dancing about making children laugh and couples smile.

He sings and tells tales of romances from long ago, how they fought to be with one another and died to stay together.

The talk of romances and relationships has you sighing, you had wanted to ask Venti to be your valentine but had cowered out at the last minute. Kaeya (your friend) had tried to convince you to continue, but unfortunately there’s no way to sway a stubborn mind.

Venti jumps over to you and plops himself down beside you. Leaning up against you which in turn cause a ferocious blush to spread across your cheeks, you spin away praying he missed it.

He didn’t of course.

Venti hums quietly to himself before finally piping up. “You know Y/N you’re so troublesome, I’d dare say more so than me!”

“No i’m not Venti!”

“You are so! You go about acting like you’re fine when there’s a question youve been dying to ask me all day, you can’t deny it I see through your lies.”

He booped you on the nose as your face snapped back to meet his turquoise gaze. HE KNEW?!

Venti whispered into your ear. “Kaeya told me, and yes. I’ll be your valentine.” He hummed sweetly before jumping up and singing once more.

You’d kill Kaeya if you ever saw him again, although he did get you your valentines so you couldn’t be too mad at him...

no you were defo mad and totally hit him as venti cheered you on

in the end you and Venti spent a wonderful day together singing and dancing and falling more madly in love than ever before, to top it off the two of you watched the stars from his statue.

Where you may or may not have shared a first kiss.

Childe didn’t actually formally ask you to be his valentines but he had seen your troubled expression earlier and big brother instincts took place.

He had grabbed your hand and said “Girlie let’s have a little fun, shall we?”

And so the two of you spent the day together, running from stall to stall eating fine Liyue cuisine.

Playing festive valentine games and winning each one, you know how Childe is hes in it to win it no other way.

It was the end of the day when the two of you had found a spot not far from Liyue, but far enough to be alone.

There you two sat alone, well actually with a giant bear Childe had won for you.

This time you spoke up first. “Childe... I wanted to ask you and I know valentine’s day is basically over but... would you be my valentine?”

Childe was taken aback. “Ojou-chan...” He began. “Wasn’t that what we were doing all day?”

hold up. WHAT??

“No way! Childe that wasn’t- did you think that was a date?”

“THAT WASN’T A DATE?!”

It took awhile to explain but he finally realised that no it wasn’t a date. Ngl he was disappointed but then realised you asked him out anyways so he cheered up fast.

Please he’s just a child someone explain to him you have to formally ask these things...

Okay please this man. “I have no interest in mortal festivities.”

He doesn’t. He really doesn’t. So lowkey like Childe you’re going to have to bring it up.

You go to Wangshu inn in hopes he hasn’t gone off to fight demons and as luck would have it he hasn’t!

You go up to his floor and see him staring across the endless Dihua marshas. In the golden light of the evening they’re actually something to marvel at.

You clear your throat in an attempt to get his attention.

He acknowledges your presence with a grunt and a, “What now?”

Nervously you step forwards and begin. “I made you almond tofu! A-and some chocolates... of course you don’t have to accept them but they’re for you so here!”

Xiao turns to face you. And unlike your expectations of having him meet you angrily at disturbing his peace hes actually surprised, shocked even. A mortal has never prepared him any kind of delicacy before.

Never mind that and chocolates. He isn’t oblivious to what you’re trying to do and he’s well accustomed to the ways of the Liyue people.

He knows exactly what he’s doing when he accepts them from you.

“I’m not very good with words... but if you want me to be your valentine you didn’t have to go through all the trouble. I may not care for mortal festivities but... I care for you.”

please marry me.

HOHOHO Kaeya.

Kaeya knows what he’s doing better than anyone in the seven counties of Teyvat. He has it all planned out.

Meet you in the morning with chocolates and a bouquet of flowers and then bring you to his favourite restaurant for some of mond’s finest cuisine and then he’ll take you out of the city where the two of you can watch the stars while sipping on dandelion wine.

However, the moment he sees you standing at the fountain centered in mond he’s for once at a loss for words.

You were utterly breath taking, a sight that he wished to savour like a fabulous glass of a 60 year old bottle of death afternoon wine.

You turned around and spotted Kaeya, waving him over. For a moment he forgot himself and actually stood staring. Before realising he wasn’t frozen in place and ran over to you.

Kaeya grinned his usual charismatic smile and handed you chocolates and calla lilies.

“I was wondering perchance, if this fine lady would do me the honours of accompanying me on such a romantic holiday?”

With a charming grin and honey laced words who could say no? Of course you were madly in love with this man so you accepted within a heartbeat.

Believe me when I say, Kaeya knows how to treat a woman. And that’s like a queen.

You went to visit him at Dawn Winery. He said he was too busy with work to come up to mond so you wanted to surprise him with a little gift; a box of chocolates prepared especially.

Like Xiao and Childe you were going to have to make the move with someone like Diluc. He didn’t care so much as for physical displays of affection and while he always took initiative love was a foreign language to him and so he didn’t know where to begin.

His butler let you in and you headed straight over to his office, knocking on his door.

“come in.” You heard the familiar low raspiness of his voice, a telltale sign he was overworking himself.

Upon entering you presented the chocolates with a proud smile. Almost immediately he got up from his seat and went over to greet you.

“I never expected to see you here Y/N but may I say you have made my day... and oh? What’s this?”

“Chocolates Diluc. I made them for you and I was uh... actually wondering something.”

He took them from your hands with a smile. He knew what you wanted to ask and yet he longed for you to speak the words.

“What is it Y/N?”

“Would you... be my valentine?”

Diluc’s smile grew, it was wider than you had ever seen it and it even seemed like a childish manour danced in his eyes.

He carefully embraced you and planted a kiss to your forehead sighing in pure bliss.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[parkers-gal]

can u do one where is ag!reader’s birthday party and there’s a lot of celebrities there (like rihanna, beyonce, kylie, doja, megan...) and she introduce tom and the boys too to them? i love your writing 🥺💙

aww🥺

this sucks but i tried lol

wc: 1.8k

—

“C’mon, babes!” You pull him into your side. “It’ll be so much fun! And besides, you’re a social butterfly. You’ll fit right in,” you smile with some extra pep, and Tom laughs in response, finally nodding in agreement.

“Alright. But don’t touch your present until it’s time.” “I won’t!” You squeal. “That was one time!”

“One time too many!”

“Fine, fine,” you stand up. “C’mon, take a shower with me.”

Tom raises a brow, “Oh?”

“It’s my birthday,” you smirk, “I can have whatever I want.”

“That indeed, darling,” he’s pulled up by your arms, and the two of you go off to get ready for the party in just a few hours.

Finally, forty minutes later, you’ve dressed and prepared to drive down to the country club you’ve rented out for the party. You don’t normally make such a big deal about your birthday, but because of the success of your recent album, you know everyone would want to rejoice after all the time in quarantine.

Applying your last bit of lip liner, Tom comes strolling in while adjusting his Rolex watch. He reaches for the comb sitting in the top drawer, and you admire how sensual he looks getting ready.

“See something you like, love?”

“Ah ah ah,” You stop him. “I get free access to gawk over your hands. Today is shame-free, baby,” You do the rock ‘n’ roll sign for dramatics, and Tom teasingly rolls his eyes.

“Okay, go sit in the car, love. I need to get your present into the trunk while you aren’t eyeing my hands.”

“Yeah yeah,” You wave him off, and as you leave the bathroom, Tom playfully slaps your ass, sparking a giggle from you.

Afterward, when you finally do arrive, your mom and close friends/choreographers have already made sure the setup was complete. The first few guests to arrive are your closest confidants: Victoria Monet, Tommy Brown, Scootie and Mikey, Tayla Parx, and Courtney Chipolone.

“You look good, girl!” Victoria greets you with a soft hug, her highlight accentuating the beautiful shades of her skin.

“You too!” you reciprocate her excitement.

“And happy birthday,” she holds you at arm’s length before turning to Tom. “Treating the birthday girl well?”

“Of course, of course,” he clasps his hands together and smiles so wide that his eye crinkles show. You smile at that, hand going to the small of his back to pull him closer.

More people arrive, and soon enough the hall is packed and you’ve lost Tom in a crowd of familiar faces. You see him sitting at the bar, engaging in conversation with his brother Sam and Scott, your choreographer. Deciding to make your way over to him, you’re halfway through the bunch of the crowd when Abel stops you to catch up.

“Oh-! Can I be right back?”

He nods with a smile, sipping his cocktail and letting you run off again. Quickly, you make your way to the barstool that seats Tom.

“Hey love,” he greets.

“Hi, baby,” You curl into his side, waving gently to the boys sitting beside him. “C’mon, I want you to meet some people.”

“Welp,” Tom stands, “That’s my cue.” The three of them share a laugh and then he’s linking his hand with yours and letting you take the lead.

“You know The Weeknd, right?”

“What?” Tom stops, and because his hand is linked with yours it stops you too. “No, love, that’s- I’m- you can’t introduce me to him!”

“Why not?” You giggle. “He’s just a person.”

“Yeah, and extremely talented and successful person who my brother happens to obsess over.” You roll your eyes teasingly while beginning to pull him along again. “You’ll be fine, you big baby. Besides, he’s always wanted to meet you.”

“Alright,” he mumbles, still nervous but trusting you. Before long, he’s standing in front of the “After Hours,” singer, shaking his hand and engrossing himself in easy conversation. It flows so well that Tom almost doesn’t remember being nervous to meet him.

“I’m gonna get a refill,” He excuses himself. “It was great to catch up, Y/N/N. And nice meeting you, Tom,” he pats Tom’s shoulder as the two of you wave him goodbye.

Tom lets out a heavy breath, one of relief and pure excitement from having just met another big-time celebrity.

“Look at you, big guy,” you tease, tapping his shoulders in a taunting manner. Tom rolls his eyes and chuckles, catching your hands with his and pulling you to his chest for an almost kiss.

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

“Make me.”

And he does — with his lips. When the two of you separate, you spot a group of girls in the corner and you immediately light up. Tom doesn’t have time to process what’s happening before you’re tugging him along to another side of the room.

“C’mon! There‘re more people I want you to meet!”

“Love! I’m not prepared!” he whisper-shouts. You ignore his pleas and enlargen the circle of familiar friends.

“Girlies!” they squeal as you greet them. “It’s good to see you all! There’s someone I wanna introduce you all to…” You pull Tom along, who’s a blushing, bashful mess of British and messy curls. “Tom, this is Doja, Megan, and Nicki.” You gesture to each one as you say their names. “Guys, this is Tom, my boyfriend.”

“The one you always talk about in the studio?”

“Oh, that one! In all your pictures! He’s the one on your lock screen, right?”

Nicki chuckles from behind her champagne glass, observing the encounter unravel.

“Is that so, darling?” Tom eyes you, and you groan dramatically. “Didn’t know you were so head over heels for me.”

“Oh… hush,” you sass him, and everyone laughs.

“A little birdie told me you had something to do with the makings of Positions…” Nicki teases.

You gasp, feigning shock. “I never should’ve told you that! Ugh,” You groan again, and everyone laughs at your flustered state. “I slipped up one time. One! Time!”

“Feel free to keep slipping up, then,” Tom teases. You lightly slap his upper chest and he giggles, pulling you in to steal another kiss.

“Y/N says you’ve just wrapped filming with Zendaya…?” Doja suggests, and Tom immediately lights up again.

“Oh, yeah! Spider-man three. Actually, I think Daya may be here.”

“She is,” You confirm. “She’s with Jacob and Harry by the pool table.”

“I’m gonna introduce myself,” Doja smiles slyly, and you and Tom share a laugh at her antics. Megan trails after her, champagne glass still in her hands.

“Don’t embarrass me!” She stops to speak to you one last time. “Oh, and happy birthday, Y/N. It was really nice meeting you, Tom,” she waves and Tom returns the gesture.

The two of you are left alone with Nicki, who’s speaking to a man that Tom guesses to be her boyfriend. You pull Tom along again, settling by the snack table to grab a few churros and pretzels.

“So? Whaddya think?”

“Megan had really nice nails,” He says through bites.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he smiles, though his mouth is stuffed. “Super pretty.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to tell her.”

Tom chuckles softly, sipping some bottled water. You watch the way his jawline accentuates and you have to force your eyes away from his soft skin and back to the cinnamon delight in your hands.

“Nicki is literally just like her songs. Like- she talks in the same way. It’s so funny.”

“Yeah,” you lick your lips, mindlessly giving Tom the rest of your churro while he hands you his half-empty water bottle. “She’s such an entertaining person. It’d be fun to get together with her one day.”

“Definitely,” Tom smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Who’s next?”

“I think Kylie and her sister are here.”

“Oh my god,” he swallows. “Is Stormi here?”

“Of course you’d ask that.” You roll your eyes, putting the bottle into the recycling bin and pulling Tom towards a gathering of couches and lounge chairs. When you spot her, Travis Scott is taking pictures for what you assume to be her Instagram. She’s dressed in a skin-tight dress and some elegant heels, and you make a mental note to compliment her later.

“Kylie!” You make yourself known. She lets out a soft “oh!” and stands immediately to hug you. Travis turns his phone off and shakes Tom’s hand while you talk with Kylie. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you! Happy birthday,” She smiles before turning to Tom.

“Hey. I’m Tom. Y/N’s-”

“Boyfriend,” She finishes, shaking his hand. “I’m Kylie.”

When you notice Travis making his way back over to the three of you, you see Stormi in his arms and from your peripheral vision, Tom is bouncing on his feet in excitement.

“Stormi, this is Tom. He wanted to meet you,” Travis whispers softly, setting her down on her feet. She gravitates towards Tom, and the two of them start talking rather passionately about something fun. You chuckle at them, but you can’t help admiring Tom for his skills with kids.

You talk with Kylie about the past few months, and after several minutes, you see Harry and Harrison making their way over to you and Tom.

“And who’s this little lady?” Harrison smiles when Stormi giggles, and he kneels to her level.

“Stormi,” She says softly. Both Harrison and Tom clap and praise the sweet girl for introducing herself all on her own. Tom takes a seat on one of the lounge chairs, and Stormi finds comfort on his left leg while playing with his right hand. They discuss which nail polish colors would be best with Tom’s look, and you indulge in Kylie’s newest beauty and skincare products.

Later on, you’re back at the snack table with Tom, and after sufficiently filling up, you offer another suggestion. “Up for meeting Madonna again?”

Tom’s eyes widen and he groans, shaking his head in panic. “No. Absolutely not. Not after what happened last time-”

“Okay, okay, okay,” you say between laughs, grabbing his hand to calm him down. You wrap your arms around his neck and link your hands, leaning against him in a slow-dance position. His hands find the skin of your waist in comfort. The moment doesn’t last long when you notice Tom’s brothers making their way over with a glint in their eyes — you know they want something.

“What do you divs want?” Tom asks, playfully rolling his eyes.

“Well…”

“We heard Nicki Minaj is here,” Harrison interrupts Sam.

“Would you introduce us?” Harry beams in hope. He looks almost nervous, albeit still excited, about asking. Whether that’s because you might say no, or because she’s one of his favorite artists, neither you nor Tom know.

Separating from Tom, you let out a deep and exasperated breath, smiling goodbye and unlinking your hand with his. “Here we go again!” You whisper while the boys pull you along in the direction of the Queen of Rap.

[peachywrite]

Unpleasant Pleasantries

Rohan Kishibe x JosukeSister!Reader

Trigger Warning: inappropriate stand use, mild suggestive themes

Rohan thought this to be the perfect opportunity to get back at that imbecile with the hair of a 60’s delinquent, but instead found something more fulfilling than revenge.

It was your first time meeting the famous mangaka, but Koichi insisted that you introduce yourself to the newly found stand user as a formality.

~

“It’s better to make friends than enemies, y/n! So please do this for me.” He begged, clasping his hands tightly together as he bowed.

“Koichi-chan, he ripped out pages from your face and tried to do the same to Okuyasu and Josuke. I don’t know if I trust this guy.” You sighed, nervous and even a little scared.

“It’ll be fine, when you tell him you’re related to Josuke, he won’t even think about trying anything!” Koichi’s eyes glistened, still silently begging you to go.

“Fine, but if I don’t show up back home in an hour, call Josuke please.” Koichi nodded enthusiastically, shouting thank yous while he ran off to find your brother.

~

Thanks to the written address Koichi had given you, it was easy to find the large Victorian mansion that belonged to the isolated artist.

“Come on, y/n. You can do this. Just a quick hello and you’re done.” You tried to psych yourself up, taking one last deep breath before approaching the walkway that led up to the door.

Knock Knock

You waited, your heart rate a bit too quick for your liking.

You could hear the steps on the other side slowly approaching and suddenly stopping, only to find the door creak by.

“Now who would be disrupting the Great Rohan Kishibe?” The man spoke in a sinister tone, swinging the door open.

Rohan Kishibe looked nothing like how you expected him to. He was built slim but still toned, his green hair neatly styled and face slim and sharp with a cute dolphin bandage placed on the bridge of his nose. His green eyes stared at you intently, as if he was trying to analyze your face as well.

“I-I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. My friend Koichi wanted me to introduce myself. I’m Y/N Higashikata. I’m a stand user and I go to school with the rest of the boys.” You stammer out, guilt hitting you for interrupting the presumably busy manga artist.

The man eyed you with a devilish smirk, clapping his hands together like he had discovered something amusing.

“You’re Josuke’s little sister! Oh how fun! You know, you’re too cute to be related to that boy. Now please come in, I’ll make you some tea and we can talk.”

“I’m actually the same age as him, and I’d love to join you but I got... study plans with K-Koichi!” You tried to avoid his stare but as he made eye contact, you knew you had lost.

“Nonsense! I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ll be studying with me, now please come in already.” His smile grew while he pulled you into his abode by your wrists.

The house was lightly decorated with manga related memorabilia on the wood carved shelves and many original panels from famous mangas hung framed on the soft toned walls, but the home still held a grand Victorian feeling to it.

Your original unease disappeared as you took in the grandeur of the mansion and the interesting items that adorned it so carefully. Rohan smirked at the curiosity in your eyes and the quick movements they made while you focused on specific areas of his home.

“Would you like a personal tour of the property before we study? I will warn you though, not all the rooms have been styled by yours truly yet. It’s a work in progress at the moment.” The smile he bared had you suspicious again, but you didn’t want to be rude to the owner of such a magnificent estate.

“As much as I would love to, your home is absolutely stunning, I sadly only have an hour to study. My mom would kill me if I got home late again.” A hefty sigh escaped your lips and you gave him your best upset expression you could muster.

You hoped he wouldn’t key in on your lying, remembering the warning Koichi had given you about his ability to discern genuine emotions from fake ones.

The mangaka squinted his eyes for a moment, causing your heartbeat to speed up substantially, but his face returned to its usual smile that you swore held a bit of deviousness underneath.

“Oh! it’s alright, dear. I understand. I’ll save it for your next visit. Let’s get to your work now, follow me to the kitchen. I’ll prepare us something and you can take a seat by the window.” He gently took your hand, guiding you to the kitchen and carefully pulling out a seat for you at his dining room table.

A beautiful bouquet set in a hand sculpted vase caught your interest on the table as Rohan busied himself with brewing a fresh pot of tea. The flowers were bright in color compared to the muted ones of the vase, but the contrast made both appear unique and appealing to the eye.

“I see you even appreciate the smaller details of a home. Though I am a mangaka, I do dabble in other forms of artistic expression. Take pottery for example, I glazed this vase in a muted color pallet so it could stand out on its own when beautifully bright flowers were placed in it. The two compliment each other nicely, don’t they?” He set down two tea cups and began to pour.

“Yes! And I especially love the bright purples in the lillies you picked here.” You gently touched a petal, Rohan now lightly tapping his cheek, pulling out a chair for himself to sit right beside you.

His closeness and unwavering gaze brought a heaviness to your chest, making you stumble over your words.

“Um-m thank you for treating me so well and letting me study in your home, Rohan-sensei.” You began to unpack your notes and textbook, Rohan scooting closer to analyze what you had written.

“No need to thank me, my dear. Now let’s get to your studies. What is it you need to work on today?” The smile he shares with you is comforting, but you can’t help but feel like he was plotting something.

You set your pencil bag down and prepare your notebook, trying to make yourself busy by setting up.

“Biology. I’ve only just recently started going to school in person, but I tested well enough to be placed in the highest class. Today we’re supposed to label all the organs in this frog drawing.” Your tone comes off as annoyed and Rohan picks up on it, tilting his head to the side while he reads your frog diagram.

“You aren’t a fan of biology? I’ve got a few anatomy sketches of animals you could use instead of this photocopied worksheet. Maybe that will help peak your interest?” He stands and saunters out to find his sketches, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

When Rohan returns, the two of you work on your Biology homework for about an hour, finishing the entire pot of tea in the process. You found out that Rohan was quite skilled at anatomy, having an entire sketchbook dedicated to the anatomy of many living things, including the likes of frogs and flowers. He was extremely helpful and fun to talk with.

As you packed up your bag, Rohan remained seated in his chair, playing with one of the lilies from the bouquet. You weren’t sure if you should head towards the door and leave Rohan or wait for him to stand and lead you out. You were about to speak when the mangaka interrupted with a swish of his pen in your direction.

“Heaven’s Door.”

You felt a sharp shove of air to your midsection, sending you onto the floor. Every movement you attempted was futile as the grinning artist looked down at you. A deep chuckle haunted you while he leaned in closer to your face. His hands gently caressed your cheek, opening it up like a book.

“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re interesting and I’d love to learn more about you, but I’m impatient. It’ll be far easier for me to just read you. Don’t fret, my dear. I’ll make sure you don’t remember this.” He flipped through your pages, ignoring the tears that ran down onto the very paper he was trying to read.

“Now let’s just read the juicy bits today. You were hospitalized along with your brother when you were only four, a strange parasite made up of Dio’s cells attacked your immune system at age twelve and had you bedridden until fairly recently.” The curiosity he held for your story excited him, the pen he held in one hand quickly wrote onto the notepad he placed on the floor beside your head.

You felt like sinking into yourself, ignoring his quips and teases as the embarrassment of the mangaka reading your thoughts and feelings enveloped you. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be this way? He was so kind before and just like a flick of a switch, he changed.

“Oh, now how did you escape that? Here we are, thanks to Mr.Joestar’s Hamon lessons, you not only came back from your illness, but gained a proper stand and the ability to wield Hamon just like your father and great grandfather! Wait, what’s this new paragraph about?” He squinted closely, reading your page out loud again.

“I have to visit Rohan Kishibe today because Koichi told me to. He practically begged. Even though I’m scared, Koichi gave me his word that nothing bad would happen. Rohan Kishibe looks very different from what I imagined a mangaka to look. Well, what did you expect me to look like?” His smirk grows as he continues on.

“Ah, another new bit is here! Rohan Kishibe is very good at anatomy, he’s been kind and helpful, I’d like to get to know him better. I think Josuke was just overreacting when he called Rohan Kishibe pure evil. I could see us being friends.”

His smile disappears skimming the next sentence, his usual tone of voice changed as he starts to read. He sounded upset, hurt even.

You were the one being wronged here! Why would he get upset? He doesn’t have the right.

“Josuke was right. Rohan Kishibe is not nice, he is terribly mean. He’s using me for his entertainment. He doesn’t care. Rohan Kishibe is not kind, he is not helpful, he is cruel, I don’t want to get to know him. I want to forget him.”

“I hate Rohan Kishibe. I hope to never see him again.”

Rohan paused, looking away from your pages, trying to focus on anything else for the moment.

“W-well, I’ll just fix this last paragraph and erase it from your mind. You’re being dramatic, I’m not as terrible as you describe me.” Chuckling to himself, he tries to laugh off his obvious pain and attempts to regain his composure.

“No! I won’t let you erase my emotions!” You shouted, a wave of Hamon spreading through his arm as his pen touched your page, his attempt to rewrite your memory foiled.

The mangaka was sent flying back, his right arm dropping the pen and your face finally shutting closed, returning your ability to move. Although you were upset at the betrayal of trust you gave the man, you felt a twinge of guilt in your heart when you spotted his still form draped across the wood floor, cradling the arm you had burned with your Hamon.

Running to his side, all thoughts of malice left your body while you attempted to get a better look at his injury. His arm was still intact thankfully, but it was badly burned and needed to be set correctly and quickly if he ever wanted it to heal properly. You took a deep breath and turned Rohan over to see if he was still conscious.

“Oh god, Rohan I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Your eyes fill with tears again as you see the artist weakly rest himself against the wall, still holding his arm close to his chest.

“No, no it’s alright. I brought this on myself. I accept that.” He grimaced, trying to take a peek at his injuries but too frightened to actually check.

“You read my thoughts and history, it wasn’t right but you didn’t physically hurt me. I don’t know how that happened, but I promise you I’ll fix it.” You swore to the manga writer, now searching through your backpack.

When you found your pair of scissors, you went into full first aid mode, removing the sleeve from his right arm by carefully cutting the loose cloth off. After tossing the short sleeve to the side, you cut the bottom of the skirt you were wearing off into a long bandage-like shape of clothing and ran it under the cold tap water from the kitchen sink, returning to the injured Rohan.

“I’m going to wrap your arm with this, it won’t be painful if you let me use my stand, but I’m going to ask you first before I use her on you.” The man nodded, accepting your offer to erase the pain.

“Under Pressure. She’s a stand that has the ability to manipulate emotions. She can change them within a radius or focus on only one individual. When she focuses on a single person, she is only able to change their emotion to the opposite of what is being felt.” You began to wrap his arm, nervous about what he might feel when you placed the wet fabric loosely around it.

All Rohan could do was bite back his lip to avoid making any embarrassing sounds. Instead of the immeasurable pain he imagined to come with dressing a freshly burned wound, he felt a wave of euphoria. He now understood what you meant by the “opposite” emotion would be felt.

The artist never knew wrapping his burned arm would feel so good, every touch caused his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to water. It confused him, even though he understood that the opposite of pain was pleasure, it still startled him every time you did one more pass of the homemade bandage.

He tried his hardest not to be flustered, but when you finished off his arm by tieing the last bit with a knot, he let a small whimper escape his lips. His hand shot up to cover his face, it’s hue now a bright crimson.

Your cheeks turned bright pink as well. You turned away swiftly, to avoid eye contact.

“U-Um just stay put. I’m gonna borrow your phone for a second and let you catch your breath.” Scratching the side of your cheek, you stand up and make a b-line for the phone, dialing your home and hoping that Josuke would pick up. You glanced at the clock set on the wall, it read 8:15.

I’m late.

As soon as the phone line rang once, you spotted the front door to Rohan’s manor fly across the main hall. Peeking your head out from the kitchen, you see a furious Josuke with Koichi in pursuit.

“ROHAN-SENSEI! WHERE IS MY SISTER YOU CREEP?! SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HOME 15 MINUTES AGO!” He yells out, his voice echoing throughout the home.

“Josuke! I’m here! I was just about to call you. Listen, I messed up bad and hurt Rohan. He’s in the kitchen bandaged up but I need you to heal him all the way.” You run to Josuke, giving him a tight hug while trying not to cry from the stress of the situation.

Josuke squeezes you once and let’s you go, looking you over from head to toe so he could make sure you weren’t injured as well. When he spots your torn skirt, his aura radiates a dark malice you’d never seen him show before.

“Wait Josuke! I did this to myself, we didn’t have bandages so I cut some cloth.”

He looks you over again and sighs heavily, the purple hue that was full of rage, leaving him.

“Ok, fine. Where’s that jerk? I’ll fix him up real quick so we can go home.” He grumbled, following you into the kitchen.

Even though Rohan wanted to refuse any treatment from Josuke, he finally accepted the help when you threatened to cry on the spot. His arm had returned to its previous state, unburned and fully functional, thanks to Josuke and Shining Diamond.

Josuke picked up your backpack and held the now fixed front door open for you, while Rohan stood and waved goodbye. You awkwardly returned the wave and made your way back home, your thoughts chaotic and confused.

On the one hand you felt guilty for putting Rohan through such an immense amount of pain, but you were also upset at the humiliation he put you through by reading your life with Heaven’s Door. These thoughts plagued your mind as you laid your head to rest for the night.

~

It was roughly two in the afternoon when Rohan Kishibe knocked on your front door. A short but older woman answered, complaining about the loudness of the knocks when she looked over the artist.

“Oh, my apologies. You’re that Rohan Kishibe my kids talk about. How may I help you, Mr. Kishibe?” She asked with a warm tone to her voice, leaning against her door frame and smiling up at him.

“Is y/n in? I’d like to deliver this to her personally.” He spoke softly, shaking the box he held in his hands.

Your mother couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. He appeared to be anxious and uncomfortable, most likely it was his first time gifting something like this.

“She’s not home yet, but give her five minutes. Why don’t you come in? You can wait for her up in her room, just don’t go raiding her drawers or anything.” She joked, Rohan’s cheeks turning vivid scarlet.

“I’m only pulling your leg, sweety. I know you’re better than that. Now come on! Have a seat at her desk and I’ll bring you up some lemonade.” Rohan followed her inside.

When they reached your room, Mrs.Higashikata opened the door and waved her hand to your desk seat.

“Pull up that chair there and I’ll be back with some refreshments.” Her smile gleamed at him. She walked off to the kitchen, leaving the artist alone in your room.

Rohan browsed around your room, taking in the personality that was apparent by the many bits of decor that gave your little private space a peculiar style. Your walls held photos printed on Polaroid film, sketches presumably drawn by you, and posters of your favorite video games and shows.

When he glanced around your room, he was immediately caught off guard when he spotted two volumes of his very own manga, propped up and on display in your bookcase. To say he was flattered was an understatement, he was completely floored. You were a fan of his?

His heart was heavy all of a sudden, he felt a dreadful pain in his chest while he held the book in his hands. He turned his head toward the doorway when he heard your voice greet your mother. To regain himself, he quickly skimmed through the pages of the manga he was holding, hearing your distant conversation come to an end.

You entered the room. Dropping your bag at the corner of the closet, your eyes never leaving Rohan while you take a seat on your bed. The mangaka gently placed your copy of Pink Dark Boy back in its original position, turning around now to face you.

“I’d like to humbly apologize for my abhorrent behavior and actions yesterday. I was terrible. I know it might be asking too much of you, but I brought you this as a peace offering. I want us to start over. I’d like to get to know you the right way.” He passes you the box he was carrying with him, nudging you to open it.

Casually unknotting the bow and removing the lid from the bottom, you slowly lift what appears to be a white sundress out of the box. It was beautifully made and looked to be just your size.

“I know it’s not the skirt you tore, but I felt like you deserved something a little more unique.” He averts your gaze quickly when you attempt to gauge his reaction.

The mangaka appears to be flustered, apparently not very used to apologizing. His eyes held a fear of rejection but also a glimmer of hope. A breath you never knew you were holding was released with a quiet hum.

“It’s beautiful, thank you, but do know that buying me things isn’t going to repair my trust in you. We can at the very least start over though.”

Rohan smiled to himself, thankful for your empathetic nature, and nodded a quick yes.

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, how about we take that dress and enjoy some tea at the cafe? My treat.”