#it is probably lame in reality

[niemingjueismylife]

New fanfic! (Yes there’s two titles because I changed it for wattpad)

≿————-　❈　————-≾

When the gods call you up like- “yo, bring your ass up to Olympus” they usually mean one of two things:

Ask you, your cousin, and your boyfriend-maybe-stepbrother if you want to be gods (yet again, third time this year)

OR

Send you in an impossibly long quest to defeat a bad wizard whose terrorising the masses with his wand (no, not that kind of wand, pull your pants up).

Thing is, they really could’ve chosen slightly better than this (annoyingly horny and murderous) couple.

[PJO/HP CROSSOVER || canon divergence AU || Nicercy focused, with hints of background relationships and starring Tombraxas in the future]

[xbadnews-a]

tonight i've been almost entirely unavailable ooc! I've been painting & drawing & listening to cr. i just haven't been in the right headspace to be talking to people so I've stayed mostly to myself <3

[protobrieile]

also i know this is old news and we all know that this whole deal is a mix of untaught critical thinking/comprehension and overly taught and expanded puritan values but like. i literally saw a kid in the younger subsection of a fandom i’m in get “”cancelled”” because she *agreed with someone else* that one of the members of the band is hot. like. IS THAT NOT HALF THE POINT OF LIKING A BAND (AT LEAST AT A FANDOM LEVEL)??? IM LITERALLY AROACE AND I HAVENT EVER LIKED A BAND WHERE I DIDNT THINK AT LEAST ONE OF THE MEMBERS LOOKED ATTRACTIVE. But these people were hounding on her and being like “that is so disgusting you should never say stuff like that it would make (the member) so uncomfortable” and unfortunately re my prior post the kids are a lot more inclined to use personally attacking words nowadays than i’ve ever witnessed in my lifetime. i can’t believe it

[sabertoothwalrus]

There’s something I love love loveeee about Laios and how badly he wants to be cool.

Let me preface with this: in general, I believe the harder you try to be cool, the less cool you actually are. The less you care what people think about you, if you’re “cringe” or “weird”, the more likely people will perceive you as confident and self-assured.

There are countless pieces of media where characters try to fit in with some group, change every part of themself to look/act like what they’re “supposed” to be, and end up miserable, often realizing the people they’re trying to impress aren’t worth the trouble.

I’ve experienced this in my own life too! Sometimes when I go out I wear a rainbow propeller cap! Cause I think it’s funny and silly and!! I ALWAYS get compliments!! I don’t wear it to be cool, I wear it because it makes me happy. And people overall have a positive reaction to it. it’s a huge contrast to when I was teenager and didn’t really put as much of myself into my appearance/wardrobe, and barely left any kind of impression on people.

So anyway, let’s get into it.

Laios… he’s been hurt so badly by people. He resented humanity for it. And yet, he still yearns for the approval of others. He wants FRIENDS!!!! and was angry and frustrated to learn his perception of his relationship with Shuro was so drastically different than Shuro’s!!!!

He KNEW that people were put-off by his love of monsters. Up until Falin got eaten, he deliberately suppressed how much he talked about it with others. He probably thought by not talking about monsters so much, it was working!! He was doing all the Right Things now! So Shuro confessing he always hated him was a huge blow.

But the reality is, he loves monsters. And most importantly, he loves cool monsters. He fantasizes about what would make the Ultimate Monster.

He feels very strongly about what he considers “cool” as well. He finds all aspects of monsters fascinating, but can still be HORRIBLY underwhelmed when they look too lame for his tastes.

He knows most people don’t feel the same way he does. He knows his “cool” is everyone else’s “weird”. It’s so tragically sweet how he latches onto Kabru the moment he shows interest in monsters, and takes every opportunity to infodump about them to him.

He wants people to find monsters as cool as he does!! But, he also wants people to think he’s as cool as he finds monsters.

Like!!! djkfghadkfjg IT DOESN'T EVEN BOTHER HIM WHEN PEOPLE HAVE A WRONG IMPRESSION OF HIM! He's FLATTERED by it. It's almost like, at this point, it doesn't matter to him if people don't like him. People can not like him and still think he's cool.

And my favorite thing is, it works. Laios IS cool as fuck. You KNOW he thought he looked so badass when he did this and he was RIGHT:

And yet, this is him trying very hard to look cool. But it's Laios's version of cool. It's almost contradictory, in that sense. Cause he knows people still don't get it. Like. He wants to be cool. He doesn't care about the "normal" ways to be cool. He thinks his cringe thing is cool. He does his cringe thing, that people very much do still think is cringe. So you would think that, since he wants people to think he's cool, he would not do the cringe thing. But he wore the pelt because he thought it was cool. And people clapped and cheered for him anyway.

is what he's doing really so different than this? ^

YAYYYYY WOOO GO LAIOS YOURE SO COOL!!!!!!!

[subconsciousmysteries]

I love how we've reached the point in typology theorizing where the basic ability to perceive nuance and mental complexity is considered a trait unique to 6 and 9. saying "it depends on the situation", aka something any non-arrogant human being aware of what they don't know about a given topic will say, makes you a 6-9 stem. because everyone else is so infantile and delusional that they go into everything with a total self-assured arrogance. nuke this community.

[prismatic-bell]

So I’ve seen a few posts going around lately about philosemitism, but mostly in the context of people being called out for it, and it’s occurring to me that if you don’t have a frame of reference for it, you probably don’t understand why it’s really a very bad thing.

So I’m going to share a story that happened to me a few years ago, when I was studying for my b’nei mitzvah.

This lady pulls into my drive thru at work. She’s wearing a MAGA hat, and before I can hide my Magen David necklace—this was not that long after Charlottesville—she absolutely GUSHES “oh, you’re Jewish?” and immediately starts going on about beautiful traditions, Jesus was Jewish, yadda yadda. (All the Jews reading this are currently nodding because they’ve all met this woman at least once.)

And then she gets to the part I want to highlight for the goyim, the learning part of this:

Her: And we need to stick together, because you know what’s right in the middle of Jerusalem, right?

Me: …..the Temple? (It’s not, it’s at the city’s edge, but I could see someone hearing “center of religious and cultural life” and making an assumption.)

Her: no!

Me: …….the Knesset?

Her: no! How do you spell Jerusalem?

Me, thinking she saw the Hebrew book next to me: yod-reish-shin-lamed—-

Her: no, no! U-S-A! J-E-R-U-S-A! The United States is part of Israel!

Y’all.

This woman.

Legitimately believed.

That “Jerusalem.”

Was the name.

Of a Jewish city.

In a language.

THAT DOES NOT HAVE A “J” SOUND.

She literally told me I was wrong when I pronounced it Yerushalayim, which is the Hebrew transliteration of the older “Urusalim,” which is the original name of the city in the Canaanite languages circa 1500 BCE. (An even older inscription has been found in Egyptian, but it’s a little wonky because the two languages didn’t have the exact same sounds—think of how an English word spoken by a Japanese person and then transliterated as they said it would look.) “Jerusalem” as a form literally cannot occur until after the word has filtered through Latin and into English—at the earliest, the 3rd or 4th century CE—because there’s no J in Latin, either.

THIS is philosemitism: this woman wanted so badly for Judaism to be her fun toy that she completely ignored Jewish reality. We weren’t actually people to her; we were a thing for her to exotify. When actual Jewish experience refuted her she ignored it, but many philosemites will get angry when they’re faced with reality.

If you’re thinking “wow, that sounds a lot like fetishization,” you’re right, because it is. It’s fetishization crossed with the kind of “support” a lot of people offer the queer community, where they love it when it’s waving rainbow flags and “oh my g-d, girl, slay,” but the moment it’s anger over the STD crisis or the underserving of homeless queer youth, they dip. They’re only around while it’s ~*~*~aesthetic.~*~*~

Philosemitism isn’t “loving Jews too much.” It’s loving a stereotyped ideal you put on a pedestal, and not allowing for diversity of Jewish experience.

[lynnielovestlou]

au where abby and reader try to break up :( emphasis on try because they just can’t stay away from each other :( they keep talking and updating each other on things until its too much :( and they get back together :)

(i put my whole back into this pls be nice)

꩜ cw: no smut! abby x reader , reader works at a plant nursery , use of pet names

masterlist

the breakup was rough, to say the least. abby was your first everything. your first kiss, your first girlfriend, your first time, and your first everything. letting go of that was the most heartbreaking thing either of you had gone through.

for the first couple of days post-breakup you could hardly eat and sleep. your bed felt so cold and so empty without her next to you. you even made a lame attempt to line some pillows up to make it seem like she was there. and for a moment, it worked. but her warmth wasn't there for you to wrap yourself in. her heartbeat wasn't there to listen to. and her arms weren't there to hold you.

despite the fact that you were no longer together, you still talked. but less than you usually did. so many messages went unsent, so many calls you hesitated calling.

the first time either of you said something to one another was when you texted her about the job you had been wanting for months. she knew how much you wanted to work at the plant nursery down the street from your apartment, even before you split up. so when you got the email after your interview saying that you got the job, your immediate instinct was to tell abby.

"i got the job!" you had texted her.

"thats so amazing, sweet girl." she responded so quickly that it made you think she was anticipating you to text her, "i'm proud of you."

and just like nothing had happened, you were smiling down at your phone, just like you were before you started dating.

but that butterfly feeling in your stomach didn't last long. it fizzled out when you remembered you were no longer with her.

over the course of a few days you chatted about little things. your first day at your new job. abby's dog, alice, catching a squirrel in her backyard. little, minuscule check-ins. nothing too serious.

until a week later.

"want to get coffee?" she texted you one day, while you were busy watering plants in your denim overalls.

it caught you by surprise, to say the least, but you knew it wasn't a date. just two friends getting together for a cup of joe. not romantic. strictly platonic.

no matter how much you wanted to run back into her muscular arms and re-familiarize yourself with her touch, you couldn't. you shouldn't.

"sure." you text her shortly, without the need to ask which coffee shop or what time. while you were dating, you went every week to the same coffee shop at the same time on the same day and ordered the same drinks.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟthat weekend ｡┈┈⋆

the second you walked through the doors of the coffee shop your nostrils were filled with the scent you missed so much. freshly brewed coffee grounds and warm pastries. the faint sound of chattering from the patrons enjoying their own treats.

and there she was.

sitting at a two-top table, two drinks in front of her. she was already looking at you, as if drinking in your image. even though you were devastated and still a little heartbroken from the previous events of your relationship, you did a good job at finding distractions. which is probably why you don't look quite as miserable as she does.

"hey." she greets you as you sit down across from her, "i um.. i ordered the drink you usually got."

she remembered.

the mug was still warm, so she couldn't have been here long.

"thank you." you nod your head once, "you didn't have to do that."

"its no big deal." she shrugs, taking a sip of her coffee. black coffee, to be exact. you never understood how she liked the bitter taste of it, "how have you been?"

"good." you answer quickly. so quick that she has a hard time believing you. in reality, you were good. but you weren't great. you would never admit to her how you would accidentally cook too much food, because you were used to cooking for two people. you would never admit how many times you've accidentally set the table with two plates instead of one. how you would say 'i'm home!' when you walk through the door, even when nobody was there to listen, "i'm uh.. how about you? how are you?"

"im alright." she says.

but not good. you tell yourself in your head.

for a little while the two of you just chit-chat back and forth, talking about nonsense for half an hour before you notice abby fidgeting. she can't sit still, and you have a gut feeling you know exactly what's wrong.

"sweetheart, i cant keep doing this." she finally breaks, interrupting your rant about how you hate one of your coworkers.

"wait, huh? did i say something wrong?"

she shakes her head, glancing around the coffee shop like she's afraid to make eye contact with you, "we shouldn't have broken up."

oh.

your heart falls to the pit of your stomach, "what?"

"i need you more than i thought i did. i miss you."

you stare at her, eyes wide and lips slightly agape. you wanted to hear these words, but you never thought that you ever would, "are you.. are you serious?"

she nods her head, looking back at you.

"abby, i... i dont know."

"baby." she breathes deeply, desperate for your forgiveness, "dont make me beg."

you exhale, your cheeks burning crimson. you had waited so long for one of you to finally say something about the breakup. you waited so long for one of you to speak up about the need for the other.

without another moment of hesitation, you lean across the table, boldly smashing your lips into hers.

she tastes sweet, just as she always had. she was wearing coffee and the mint chapstick you left at her house and she never returned it, because she liked being able to have your taste with her.

she smiles against your lips, baring all her teeth. when you both pull away you can see her little dimples on her cheeks, the skin underneath her freckles a light shade of pink.

"so.." she says, folding her hands together in her bulky lap, "is that a yes?"

[girlokwhatever]

₊˚ପ⊹˚୨୧⋆ ⋆༉‧₊˚.: ̗̀➛ she loves me, she loves me not,,

part 3 ; back and forth

previous part

paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)

it’s been a week since you last saw paige, relentlessly rejecting her invitations to hangout and spend time together.

at first you were able to use the excuse of being sick as you feigned cough over the phone. but after five days, realizing no one else was sick and you sounded relatively fine, she stopped believing you. you only answered her phone calls, typically ignoring her texts and using the excuse of sleeping being the reason you hadn’t ever replied.

she was starting to get annoyed. especially when she saw you out in public with a group of your friends. you lied, and now she caught you red-handed.

she approached your friend group, recognizing a few of them. you were laughing, no cough and no watery eyes from the cold you claimed to have. if anything you seemed great, smile glowing like you didn’t have a care in the world.

“hey, babe!”

“paige- hey.. what are you doing here?” you attempt to keep the cheery tone of your voice alive, smile still plastered on your face.

“i could ask you the same thing.”

“i’ll catch up to you guys later.” you wave yourself goodbye, turning away from your friends in what seems like a loving embrace with paige.

she’s pissed. her brows are furrowed and there’s an evident frown on her lips as she looks at you. you try to come up with some excuse for being here, something to cover up your avoidance of the woman standing in front of you. nothing comes to mind though and you’re stuck in the awkward silence for a few moments.

“are we just gonna pretend like you haven’t been lying to me for a week?”

“i haven’t.”

“right. i can obviously see how deathly sick you are.”

the reality of your behavior started to sink in, guilt trickling into your consciousness. you knew you had your reasons though, even if it wasn’t properly executed.

after the party last weekend everything shifted for you. you knew it could only end one way and figured taking matters into your own hands wouldn’t be too bad. if you pushed her away, maybe whatever was going on between the two of you would fade.

it wasn’t. it consumed paige’s every breath. every thought and emotion. once she figured out you probably weren’t actually sick, her heart sank. she couldn’t understand what was going on with you or your ‘relationship.’ your lack of communication didn’t help much either.

“i don’t really want to talk about this.”

“then what else should we talk about? maybe we should talk about how all my friends are asking where my girlfriend went and i have to make up some lame excuse on why you refuse to talk to me. let’s talk about that. or maybe we can talk about how you’ve completely shut me out. or do you have nothing to say? like you’ve had nothing to say for a while fucking week.”

“shut up.”

“no, i-”

“shut up. bianca is like, ten feet away.”

she’s about to turn her head (amateur move) in the direction you’re looking but you stop her, managing to cup your hands around her face in time. her eyes still wander around trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything, but decides you’re the best view.

even though she’s mad, upset, and honestly hurt that you lied, she can’t feel that way forever when you look like that. you’re looking straight into her eyes like you’re searching for something. paige’s eyes scan over you in your entirety, especially landing on your lips every now and then.

and it’s as if, by some miracle, you understand what her eyes are saying. her eyes are saying something her words can’t and won’t say. without giving yourself time to process your decision, you pull paige in by the sides of her face and kiss her.

it’s surprisingly slow and sweet, only lasting a few seconds. you thought you’d panic into it but it just felt so natural. paige’s hands find solace on your hips, pulling you closer when you part from her lips.

she doesn’t know if bianca is still watching and honestly doesn’t even care. she pulls you into a kiss of her own, this one being much more desperate and heated. you have to grip the back of her neck to steady yourself as she pulls you further into her space. the kiss lasted longer than either of you intended, finally pulling away and fighting for air.

paige is still so close to you, holding your body against hers. she leans in, kissing your forehead, then moves her face down to your ear, “don’t ever avoid me like that again.”

you nod at her words, not taking the time to comprehend how serious her tone is. when you turn your head you catch a glimpse of bianca and she’s already staring back at you, a deep frown settled on her face. you look away from her instantly and focus back on paige, who is still standing in front of you with her hand on your cheek.

“i’m so sorry i did that, i really should’ve asked first.”

“nah, don’t apologize. girlfriends kiss, right?”

you experience a whirlwind of emotions almost instantly. realizing everything that’s happened in the span of five minutes astonishes you undoubtedly. you can’t believe you kissed paige, and even more so than that, you can’t believe she kissed you back. out of her own free will, she pulled you back into another kiss.

paige was probably the best you’ve ever had too, but you don’t really have her.

it’d been a few weeks since the beginning of your scheme with paige. things were starting to go better, get more casual. she was sitting on your couch next to you, your legs draped over hers as you watched a movie together.

you never ended up officially talking about the kiss or the fact that you ignored her. you were thankful that she just let those moments pass because you honestly had no idea what kind of excuse you could make up for either.

paige’s hand brushed through your hair and gently pulled out any tangles as she went. it was sweet, loving even. anyone from an outside perspective would think it to be highly romantic.

“hey, i think im gonna go out with my friends tonight. eva’s trying to plan this friend get-together thing.”

she turns to you, peeling her eyes away from the screen. her gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, something you don’t notice because you’re texting eva back.

paige can’t help but to think about how beautiful you are, especially when it’s her shirt you’re wearing. it’s nothing out of the ordinary, even before your predicament, but it feels much more intimate now.

“that’s cool. where’re yall gonna go?”

“to a club i think. eva’s a party girly.”

“like you?”

you feign a gasp, finally looking at paige. she’s looking back at you with a grin because she loves to tease you and she loves being right.

“like me?! i’m not,” you’re shaking your head in denial. there’s still a smile on both of your faces when you lock eyes. paige’s hand stills in your hair, traveling down to the back of your neck.

she hardly even registers that she pulls your face into her, meshing your lips together. she kisses you, slotting her lips between yours in a delicate moment of intimacy. you kiss her back like it’s second nature to you. you find so much peace and comfort in paige that you practically forget she’s only your friend.

you’re pulling away first with wide eyes and pinker lips. paige also seems to be snapping back to reality, immediately standing up and apologizing.

“shit- princess i’m so sorry. i just forgot-”

you cut her off; the awkwardness of the moment being close to unbearable, “it’s okay paige. i’m just gonna..”

“yeah, you should.. y’know.”

“yeah.. i’ll go get ready. you can um..”

“i’ll just go, yeah. i’ll see you later.”

“see ya.. i’ll, y’know, text you later.”

“sounds good.”

she leaves you to the silence of your apartment, the soft hum of the air conditioning suddenly seeming so deafening. paige’s voice buzzes in your ear as you stare at her spot on the couch. millions of emotions and revelations wash over you like holy water, and finally the stars seem to align for you. you finally have some semblance of understanding as to why.

you feel a tear trickle down your face, rolling over your cheek and eventually down your chin. you sit back down on the couch while more tears continue to fall, a choked sob escaping you before you even register how upset you really are.

you love paige. it was so hard to admit to yourself, guilt creeping in at the thought that maybe, in some way, bianca was right. it had been a long time since you loved bianca, always naturally gravitating towards paige more and you could see how that would hurt her. there was no physical cheating, but mentally you had always been with paige.

paige is the best you’ve ever had relationship-wise, but you can never have her. she’s this untouchable entity, one that could ruin your life if you let her. if you get with her, bianca was right and no one can deny it.

you think that maybe you put yourself and paige in this position on purpose subconsciously because this was the only way you felt like you could have her. maybe it was a form of further.

but now that your situation is actually live, it’s slapped in your face how fake it is. none of those feelings were real for her. it was all a game you two were playing.

maybe you were right. you couldn’t have her.

you wiped your tears away, pulling yourself off the couch and towards your room. you needed to escape into your own form of reality, one that wouldn’t come back to haunt you.

since you’ve finally been able to successfully admit your unrealistic and unrequited feelings for paige, you can begin to move on from them. maybe tonight you could find something to help you move on. or someone.

⍣ ೋ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊🀥·˚ ༘

GUYS I WILL SPELL CHECK THIS SOME OTHER TIME

why do i feel like this series makes zero sense

guys if you have genuine feedback pls lmk PLS

like is this even good anymore seriously.

[blackopals-world]

"Maid Crazy"

Maid!FemYuu × Headwardens

Summary: Every girl has a hobby. Yuu's are maids. Sort of an Otaku for maids. She loves dressing as one and collecting different styles. But when everyone finds out they offer her a chance to make her fantasies reality.

It's more then just a cheap sexy costume. Those don't have the appeal of a true maid. Maids are the noble hardworking women that support a household not just some slave to a lusty master. Beautiful and graceful as the flitted about doing their work.

Yuu squealed in delight as she held up her newest acquisition. A new Victorian Era apron and lace bonnet. All thank to Crowley's credit card which is now her's after some not so idle threats.

Feeling a bit empowered Yuu put on her new set with a black collared dress. She grabbed a broom and began sweeping the the steps of Ramshackle. She felt like a Step Girl working for a small family.

She didn't notice someone had come up the path and saw her.

Riddle- House maid

He didn't see a problem with Yuu's hobby. If anything he respected it. Maids are diligent and place an importance on order as well as respect.

He offered Yuu a job to work at Heartslabyul where she could show off her skills In a place where it could fit right in.

Cooking and cleaning was a simple job. The uniform Riddle helpfully supplied helped her go unnoticed as she worked.

Yuu's Victorian style red botton up dress that reached just past the ankle and white lace apron over it. Her lace bonnet was replaced with a crown on white roses binded with red ribbons. He had a Heartslabyul student brooch on her apron.

She seemed to blind into the background for most guests in the dorm as though her presence was natural. Not that she minded as he did laundry and fed the hedgehogs.

Teatime was the most important as Yuu would happily prepare the table and load a trolley with cakes and tarts. She felt like a perfect maid as she rolled the cart into the garden.

Riddle his face furn red the moment "Good Afternoon, Master" left her red painted lips. If he had been drinking tea already he probably would have made a mess.

All things considered Yuu took to working in Heartslabyul like a duck to water.

Leona- Chamber maid

Yuu believed it was rotten luck that put Leona in her path. Unlike most he knew the roles of maids and has the pleasure of having many at home. That isn't necessarily a good thing. He doesn't care about making servant's job easier because it's their job to serve.

He doesn't bother or harass the staff but he certainly doesn't pay them any attention or respect.

That's why when he saw Yuu dressed in her frilly get up all he could see was someone he could use. Not that Yuu minds. What she does mind is his behavior because Leona is nothing but trouble.

Her duties were to wake Leona up in the morning for one thing which is fight on its own. Throwing off his blankets only to find that he sleeps naked.

Yuu had to get used to that and surly from Leona's perspective the novelty wore off due to how quickly she adjusted. Because after a few days she went about pulling out his clothes and other things so she could move on to cleaning and laundry. She had no time for maidenly nonsense of seeing a man in undress when work was to be done. Leona no doubt was disappointed although he was used to it from his maid back home.

Still, Yuu was committed to her role. Fixing Leona's clothes, organizing his stuff and cleaning his room.

Leona become frustrated when he realized that Yuu won't nap with him or even pay him any mind when working. She was too committed to her job that she wouldn't overstep as a servant. So, lame.

Azul- Café Maid/Scullary maid

Azul had no need of a maid. His room and laundry where neatly done at all times. He was quite alright but the lounge could benefit from the appearance of cute maid. Maid Café were very popular especially for young men who want to gawk at girls.

Of course Yuu vihamenly disagreed to it because she isn't a maid just to be watched. She took it very seriously.

Azul still didn't want to lose out so a deal was made. She would work in the lounge as a busboy cleaning up the tables and seats but she had to wear the attire he chose.

The uniform was kind of short and reached mid-thigh. The color was nice, iridescent purple and blue instead of white and black. The ruffled apron resembled a frilled jellyfish. A person's eyes drew themselves to the seashell shaped bust. Her shoes were mary janes so she could move around easily. Azul even gave her pearl jewelry to wear.

It added traffic to the lounge as she bounced from table to table to clean. It was going well till it wasn't. One of the reasons lest savory characters came was because while cleaning Yuu's dress came dangerously close to revealing things she didn't want to show since she had to bend over. At one point a customer "accidentally" spilled their drink when she went to pick up the cup, and her dress skirt was purposefully flipped. It was funny at first but the laughter ended when Floyd grabbed the guy by the throat.

Yuu was frustrated and crying during the event. She let Azul have it for the costume and not listening to her about Café Maids not being treated with dignity. She quit right there and threw off the jewelry and apron right there in his office.

It took a lot of apologies for Yuu to look Azul in the eye again because she was disgusted by him just as much as the skirt chasers.

Eventually Azul was forgiven but Yuu's role and outfit where changed to be more sensible. She was now a parlor maid. She managed Azul's paperwork and served him coffee. Alongside that she arranged Azul's schedule and meetings. When she wasn't greeting and seating customers and telling the tweels what to do.

A no touching policy was instituted with threats of Jade and Floyd "dealing" with rule breakers.

Kalim- Tweeny

Kalim was probably one of the ideal people to catch Yuu in maid dress. He's used to servant/master dynamic and already has Jamil.

Making Yuu his maid seemed natural because now he has two of his friends always with him. Which Yuu found to be unintentionally condescending. Kalim was nice but there was a difference between servants and friends due to power imbalances.

The problem with serving Kalim was Jamil. Servents have hierarchies and Jamil and Yuu were not on the same level. She was a low level maid that would have to follow his orders, which she honored rather then rejected.

That meant any task he made she did. If Jamil's role was to take care of Kalim then it was her's to take care of Jamil since she wasn't a personal maid.

It was hard work but she enjoyed it. Kalim still came to check on her when she worked.

Jamil however got ahead of himself and gave her an unreasonable task. She put her foot down for that one. Jamil should know better and he's forgotten that their was a clear difference between them and it wasn't seniority. It was that she chose to do this and was free to leave.

Jamil apologized, he was treating her like how he was treated by older servents. If anything he hated how happy she was to be a servent and didn't understand why anyone chooses a life like this. Yuu liked to help others and was happy to fetch clothes or do dishes.

They didn't understand each other but they understand Kalim and weren't going to fight over something like this. They both had a job to take care of Kalim and must work together for his sake.

Vil-Lady's Maid

Well if there was someone who could actually need a maid then it's him. He actually finds maids appealing and notes that they have been known for their beauty. However what he doesn't like is the specific style of Yuu's choice. Victoria Era is played out when the French maid was known for their stunning appearance.

He takes Yuu aside and gives her a new role. As a handmaid in charge of taking care of his needs, and he has a lot of needs.

It's not bad but Yuu thinks that Vil underestimates what a personal maid does. From the first moments of the morning, she has already planned his outfit in accordance with the weather, season, and his schedule. His bath is ready and she might not have mentioned that personal maids not only dress their masters but bathe them as well. She had assumed he knew but if he did he probably wasn't expecting Yuu to go through with it.

Vil had to make a diversion for her to keep her from entering the bathroom. He didn't know he was supposed to just dismiss her yet. For all his talk he doesn't know the specifics of what he was asking her to do when he gave her the job. When she returned she wasn't happy to know she couldn't wash his hair properly.

Vil's handsy maid was actually a godsend. Yuu was well versed in etiquette and was gentle and efficient in dressing Vil for the day. She even had him fastened in a corset with little time wasted and only a few ribs bruised.

She styled his hair to his liking and lavished him with complaints as she placed any jewelry he wished on him. His makeup was done perfectly as though he had done it himself.

Yuu had a way on making him feel like the queen he already was. He didn't need to lift a finger with someone to do it for him and to do it gladly.

He did some reading about maids and decided to start giving Yuu old jewelry and clothes that would suit her better. It was actually a sign among maids of how well taken care of they were by their masters. It was a good trade for having someone who makes you the center of their world.

He ensures that his maid looks her best and takes Yuu to photoshoots as his stylist. Though some wonder just how intimate he was with this "stylist."

Idia- Nurse Maid

Idia has never seen a maids outside of Cons, and animes. They were fictional characters with a SSR ranking. His favorite gotcha game had just released the maid café side story. He just got the new card to show Yuu.

He pretend to not see Yuu wearing her maid attire and immediately when the way he came. His heart couldn't take it.

Idia didn't proposition Yuu to be his maid. Wouldn't dream of it. He's a otaku but he's not a sleazy pervert who makes girls wear stuff for a sick fetish. Not if they aren't in a relationship at least.

It was Ortho who asked Yuu to be a maid for Idia after Idia got sick.

Yuu took on the job gladly. She cooked his meals and fed him by hand. Despite Idia's protests, he couldn't fight her off in his weak state. She kept his room tidy and organized. Idia had a sense of pride despite what people think and being treated like an invalid by a girl dressed as some kind of Cyberpunk maid was honestly...tolerable.

She routinely came to check Idia's fever and cleaning the sweat from his head. Whenever he asked she stayed until he fell back to sleep.

Idia became more dependent on her constant presence. Maybe he should just enjoy every otaku's dream

Malleus-Maid of All-Work

No,no,no,no! He doesn't like his child of man acting as maid!

It was cute at first watching Yuu sweep without a care in the world. He believed that if Yuu worked near him they would be even closer. But now she was more distant.

If they walk Yuu trails a few paces behind. She was determined to be prim and proper. She no longer called Malleus by the nickname he held so dear, now it was only master. Malleus was used to people calling him master but he hated when she said it.

He didn't have the heart to tell her to stop. She was genuinely happy to play her new role. She smiled as she worked at the dorm without faltering. She cooked great meals and served wonderful tea.

Malleus adjusted knowing that when she was off duty it was as if she wasn't a maid. He just preferred her as Yuu and nothing more.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

hello! i’m love your post and arts so much! I look at your posts after a hard day and my mood immediately changes to excellent. can I ask a couple of questions?

which pairing with Ethan do you prefer?

and… can we get to know you better? a little biography?

Thank you for your time! I'll be waiting for new arts! (sorry if i made mistakes, my english is not so good. im russian)

i like basically every ship with ethan! it mostly depends on the mood im in, but if im being honest, mithan, winterfield, and wintersberg gets frustrating to think about because they all dont treat ethan well canonically... lethan is fun because they have never met and i can make my own assumptions!

i used to like wintersberg the most and i still do like it, i just have expanded my horizons to other ships as well...., its mostly like a punchline to me though. they have the funniest potential which is why a majority of their posts is just joke comics. i do not like how people try to erase how karl is arrogant and egotistical tho. thats like removing the flavor.... the way karl acts is just very funny to me, hes so lame in a good way and i like how everytime he talks to ethan it sounds like hes twirling his hair and kicking his feet. canonically speaking, karl was very much in the wrong for trying to use rose and not elaborating and i will die on this hill. ethan is not in the wrong for being disgusted and angry that karl would ever try and propose that in the deal. karl is very arrogant so when ethan says no to him it makes him mad and he tries to use fear to get ethan to take his deal (kicking his chair and warning him) i like karl, i like how messed up and arrogant he is but i dislike how people try to portray him as a nice guy. however, in a AU where everythings the same except he doesnt try to use rose i do enjoy the dynamic they could have, especially if the teamed up (not with the deal where they use rose. ethan wouldnt agree unless karl never involved rose in the first place). karl is just a very entertaining character and i like him a lot, hes funny and his personality can be extremely hilarious

mia and ethan is pretty tragic and thinking about it too much makes me a bit sad, imo in a reality where ethan survives re8, he needs to divorce mia. im not saying ethan needs to hate mia and never talk to her again i just dont think they should be so intimate together because of her behavior... please do not take this as anti mia. they loved each other dearly but it wasnt healthy. their relationship was kept afloat by lies and mia doesnt change even though she deals with the consequences of her own actions in re7. she actively tries to hide her past from ethan and is mostly focused on trying to move on and have a normal life even if ethan will have to live the rest of his life in the dark.

she loves her family so much, shes very afraid of them leaving her so she hides all the bad things in the hopes that they wont leave. its selfish, its human, its real, her character is so amazing and i love her. she doesnt learn from re7 and hides important information from ethan again. i geniunly think they should have gotten divorced after re8 if ethan had survived. its tragic and its sad but they love each other so much. it sad because they both geniunly love rose so much but they themselves shouldnt be together. its just sad to think about it. whenever i draw them it usually takes place before re7. they should have divorced on good terms and shared custody of rose.........

ethan and chris is also frustrating to think about... chris is a major jerk in re8, whenever i draw it, its under a unspoken AU that chris did not behave the way he did in re8. his weird behavior in re8 is probably for a meta reason imo. capcom wanted to set up a twist villian so they make chris very vague and unesscarily cruel. while its frustrating that they turned chris into a jerk for the sake of a twist, it still happens in canon and i will forever roll my eyes whenever i see him on screen. he did what he thought was best but imo, execution matters more than the intentions. same applies to mia. they both did things that hurt ethan because they thought it would be the best but in the end they just hurt ethan.

all the ships ive discussed with people ethan has met canonically just makes it look like i dont even like the ships... LOL ... ethan just has horrible luck with the people he meets i guess... but i do enjoy the ships and drawing them, but again all of them come with the canon baggage that ends up making me sad because everyone treats ethan poorly whether they had good intentions or not

which is why leon and ethan is the most fun to draw without getting stressed... LOL... they have never met but just drawing what i think their dynamic would be like is very fun.

please dont take this post personally, this isnt a post declaring why ur fave ship sucks, this is just my own personal preferences and in the end i draw all of them anyways

if i had to rank the ships based on drawing silly comics it would be

wintersberg

mithan

lethan

winterfield

wintersberg has the funniest potential just because of karl and mithan can be funny if u water it down to "i love my wife so much" and said wife comes home with suspicious amounts of hard cash

i enjoy making joke comics far to much

if i were to rank the ships based on how healthy they would actually be for ethan it would be

lethan

winterfield, mithan, wintersberg (no particular order)

sorry 😭

leon and ethan have literally never met but imo it would still be the healthiest because ethan gets to start new

the three other ships r all unhealthy in some way, at least canonically without changing much about the characters (i do like winterfield but just because of how chris behaved in re8 it knocked them down)

i cant even rank them on personal preference because my opinion changes so often 😭 it changes based on discussions i have with my friends or recent art i see that inspires me... me and my friends recently had a discussion about mia and ethans relationship which made me very frustrated and sad with mia so i defiently wouldnt be drawing them anytime soon... meanwhile i hvae been talking to a friend who really likes winterfield often so the conversations we have give me art ideas and i end up drawing it more. if a friend of mine really enjoyed wintersberg or lethan and talked to me about it often id probably start drawing it more, the joys of being a multishipper

it changes a lot based on how im feeling and if im in the mood to draw something funny or something serious

sorry u asked a really simple question and i responded with a essay

and a little bit about myself is that i go by crumb, i am 18 and i go by all pronouns and prefer it/its

im vietnamese and live in texas

i made this tumblr acc solely so i could post my ethan art and im a re7/re8 girly so if ur here waiting for me to draw the re1-re6 characters im sorry u should probably expect nothing

i also make personal animations sometimes which u can find here

thanks for the ask and sorry for the rant!

[sxxythingz]

Heat

Lo’ak Sully (22) x Human shifting reader (22)

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), cream pie, use of daddy (not much), aged up characters, cursing

Summary: you are in your shifted reality with Lo’ak, as normal, but this time is a little different as you get your first experience with him going through heat.

WC: 2.2K

🛑MDNI🛑

You follow Lo’ak around the forest while he easily moves from tree limb to tree limp as you attempt to keep up, but your legs can only take you so far. “Come on Y/n, can’t keep up?” He looks back at you while you struggle to catch your breath from running while he simply walks. “Oh shut it Lo’ak! My legs are only so long, thank you very much.” He shakes his head with a smile on his face as he walks back towards you, who is bent over with your hands on your knees panting.

“Just admit it. You want me to pick you up and carry you, don’t you?” He smirks as he looks down at you and you roll your eyes before laughing. “Just admit it. You want to pick me up and carry me, don’t you?” You respond back to him, retorting his question. He answers by wrapping his long arm around your waist and lifting you off of the ground, your legs wrapping around his torso automatically. “Better?” He asks you as he stares into your eyes. “Much better.” You respond as you lay your head on his shoulder and he chuckles before continuing to walk to his hut with you in his arms.

Once you get to his hut, he gently lays you down on his cot before he comes and lays next to you so that you two are face to face. His face looks a bit sweaty as he’s panting with a slight smile on his lips as he takes in every feature of your face. “Are you feeling ok? You're sweating and your face feels so hot my love.” You pick up on how different he looks as you feel his face. “I’m fine. You’re just so hot that you make me sweat.” You roll your eyes at his lame joke as a smile spreads on your lips.

“So if you were to go to sleep right now, would you wake up in your real life or here?” He asks you as his large hand grips your waist to pull you closer to him. “I don’t know Lo’ak. I’m more than sure that I would probably wake up in my real life but I wish I could stay here forever honestly. It’s way better than my reality.” You say back to him as he plays with your fingers, intertwining them with his own.

“It’s simple. Just stay asleep forever and there you go, problem solved.” He suggests making you laugh. “Well I definitely can’t do that baby. But I’ll always be here every single night to make sure that I see you.” You lean in giving him a kiss on his lips before drawing back and placing your forehead to his hot one. “Well maybe I can fuck you so good that you wake up with your legs sore.” He smirks at you, making you moan at his words as you go in for another kiss. Your lips touch his again as you feel his hand slither down your waist and grab the back of your thigh, pulling your legs onto him.

He bites your lip soft enough to not leave a mark, tugging at it as you push him to lay on his back before quickly hopping on top of him and grinding your hips down onto his. He grips your hips as he throws his head back groaning, which gives you the opportunity to bite and suck at his neck, leaving marks in every spot that you bite. He brings his face back down to yours and your lips connect like magnets as you move your hand to his loincloth, attempting to take it off but before you can he throws you off of him and onto the cot as he sits up.

“Shit.” He mumbles through his pants, looking straight ahead as you try to get his attention. “Lo’ak? What just happened?” You ask, making him finally look over to you, his eyes are a dark green color and he looks spaced out. “Y-you have to go. You have to wake up. I just realized what’s happening, I’m going into heat and I-I don’t want to hurt you, we can’t do this right now.” He tries to get up, but you push him back down, sitting on him once again as he grunts at the feeling of you sitting directly on his hard dick.

“Let me help you Lo. I can make it go away.” You protest as you pull at the string of his loincloth kissing all over his face, him inhaling sharp at the feeling of your lips on him as he places his hand over yours. “I-I can’t Y/n. I can’t control myself when I’m in heat and I can barely contain myself right now. I smell how wet you are and I’m about to fucking lose it.” He growls as he plops his head back onto his cot. You don’t say anything back, instead standing up to peel your shorts and shirt off leaving you in your bra and panties as he watches you intensely.

You get on the cot in between his legs this time as you slowly crawl up to him making sure to keep eye contact with him as you begin leaving a trail of kisses starting at his chest, down to his toned stomach, until you reach the top of his loincloth. You give a soft kiss to the print sticking out through the loincloth, earning a loud moan from him, as you pull at the string completely untying the knot and tossing the cloth on the ground. His hard length flopping onto his stomach as precum drips from the tip down to his stomach as he hisses at the feeling of freedom.

“Let me taste your cum, my love.” You grip his pulsating dick into your hand as you lift it and lick the precum from his stomach first, then from the tip as he bucks his hips. “Fuck! Don’t tease, baby. I need to feel that pretty little mouth on my dick.” You chuckle at his impatience before you leave small pecks all over his dick. “Be patient baby. I’m going to take care of you, I promise.” Without warning, you slip half of his huge dick into your mouth, moaning at the taste as his mouth gapes open.

You bob your head up and down, attempting to take his entire length in each time that you come back down but you never make it to the bottom. “You suck my dick so good baby. You’re doing such a good job.” He praises you as he grabs your hair, helping you go down further onto him, pushing your head all the way making you cough on his dick as he curses under his breath. He lets go of your head and you quickly come up for air as you pant, a string of your spit dangling from your lip to his dick.

“Get on your fucking knees right now.” He demands and you get off of the cot, sinking down on your knees as he stands in front of you, teasing your lips with the tip of his dick. “Open your mouth baby. I want to fuck that pretty face of yours.” You open your mouth wide as he slips his dick back in, grabbing the back of your head as he pulls you to him until he touches the back of your throat, making you gag. “Just like that. Look at you taking my dick so well like the good girl that you are.” He throws his head back as he fucks your face, tears forming in your eyes but you’re enjoying every minute of it.

“Fuck! I’m gonna c-cum yawne.” He tells you as he pulls out of your mouth, stroking himself. “Mouth open, tongue out now.” You follow his orders as you open your mouth and stick your tongue all the way out, closing your eyes. You feel his cum landing on your tongue and the sides of your mouth as he groans loudly. Once he finishes, he squats down to see you eye to eye and he grabs your chin with your tongue still out. “Swallow.” You put your tongue back in your mouth, letting the taste of his cum consume your throat as it goes down. He takes his thumb, collecting the rest from the corners of your mouth and bringing it into your mouth to swallow before you stick your tongue back out to show him.

“Good girl. Now, get back on the cot on all fours baby.” His voice creates a pool in your panties as you stand back up and sway over to the cot, immediately getting on your knees and hands as he comes behind you to rip your panties off of you, leaving your bottom half bare. “Who made you this wet, hm? Is this all for me?” He asks you as he collects the slick onto his fingers, dragging them down your wet slit until he reaches your clit, rubbing circles around it as you moan. “Yes m-my love. It’s all f-for you.” You manage to get out through your moans as you hear him chuckle.

“Fuck, you smell so good. I can’t wait to fuck this little pussy of yours.” You feel him take his fingers away from you before he wastes no more time, plunging himself deep into you, making you let out a loud scream. “Shh, yawne. People will hear you. I know it’s good, but you’re gonna have to be a little bit more quiet.” He jokes, making you roll your eyes and open your mouth to stay something back, but he pounds into you hard making you lose your train of thought as you lay your head into the cot to prevent screaming.

He places both of his hands around your waist, helping him to bounce you back and forth on his dick as you both pant loudly. “Lo’ak… you feel s-so good.” You moan out as you reach down in between your legs to rub your clit, making him growl and snatch your hand away from you before grabbing your other arm and placing them both behind your back as you lay face down on his cot. “Did I tell you to play with yourself baby? You don’t get to touch yourself, only I do.” He gives a hard smack to your ass as he ruts into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your mouth opens with interrupted moans slipping from your throat. “Lo’ak it’s too much! I can’t take it..” You finally manage to get out as you try your best to move away from him, but his grip on you gets tighter. “You’re gonna have to fucking take it baby. No running, just take it ok?” He growls out as he continuously hits the right spot with the perfect amount of force.

“Fuck Lo’ak, I’m gonna cum!” You squeal out as you meet his strokes halfways, grinding yourself against him. “Mhm, that’s right. Cum all over daddy’s dick baby. Let it all out on me.” Your legs begin to shake beneath you as you cum on him, while he grips your ass as he watches you. “Shit! You’re gripping onto me baby, I’m about to fucking cum!” He thrusts into you so hard that the force pushes you flat onto the cot as you feel his cum filling you up while he moans loudly in your ear.

You feel his dick pulsate inside of you before he takes a deep breath and pulls out of you, plopping down beside you on the cot and looking over to you. He notices how worn out you look as you notice that his yellow eye color returns, meaning his heat is over for now, the guilt crowding his face as he realizes what he did. “I’m so sorry Y/n. I couldn’t help myself, I shouldn’t have-“ You interrupt his sentence by grabbing his face and kissing him. “That was worth it. The next time you’re in heat, I want to be right here with you to endure it.” You smile hard as he wipes the sweat from your forehead.

“Do you happen to have 3 days to spare? That’s how long my heat is.” He asks, wishing you could be here permanently with him. “How about I come back here every single day to take care of your needs? But for now, I’ll be here as long as you need me to be.” You reassure him as you peck his lips once again. “Well you might be here for a while, yawne. And you won’t be needing this.” He smirks as he pulls you back on top of him, reaching behind you to unlatch your bra as it falls off of your shoulders and he tosses it to the ground with your clothes and panties, leaving you completely naked in front of him. He stares at your bare chest, his eyes slowly shifting back to a dark green color as his hands reach up to grope you.

“Ready for round 2?” He asks you as you moan before leaning down until your lips are inches away from his. You smirk as he brings his face closer to yours, desperate to feel your lips on his again but you quickly snatch back to tease him as he groans.

“Bring it on skxawng.”

A/N: I couldn’t sleep and I have been writing this for a few days, so I decided to just go ahead and post it. Also, this picture is literally everything to me and do you guys prefer when Lo’ak’s hair is in a ponytail or down? I prefer it down because I love the way that it hangs and the one in the front is just AHHH… but anywho, I hope you guys enjoy this one because I definitely enjoyed writing it!! 💖

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 7

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: eeeek I’ve had parts of this one in the drafts for AGES the middle section has been drafted for at least a month I swear and I’ve been sitting on it like 🧍‍♀️ waiting to share it. I think this is my favorite part so far (but not my fav overall 🥰)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Masterlist)

Your day had been shit. Ever since that godsawful date Mor ambushed you with last night, you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering about Azriel and Nesta’s date. What they were doing, how things were going, if she was making him laugh.

Hell, you couldn’t stop thinking about their date while on your own date. The guy was good looking, and he wasn’t terrible, but there was nothing there between you two.

He also was very into cryptocurrency, a topic that quickly took over the conversation at dinner. A topic you did not encourage him to continue on. He somehow didn’t get that memo, insisting on walking you up towards the doors of your building when he was dropping you off, where you had made a lame excuse about going to bed early before ducking into your building.

You had followed the same path Azriel took only moments ago, continuing on to your own apartment. You open the door, finding a note on the fridge in Cassian’s messy scrawl.

Have fun.

He drew a winky face, and then several crude drawings on the post-it. The drawings made you groan, Cassian’s enthusiasm for your date further solidifying your nonexistent chance with his brother.

Of course Cassian would have Mor set you up after he found out about your little crush on his brother. You felt so stupid when you saw Nesta on their couch earlier today. You hardly spoke to Rhysand on the way to lab, your thoughts too flooded with how terribly you had read the whole situation.

Cassian probably told Mor all about your dumb crush and got her to fix you up tonight. Maybe Azriel had even mentioned your text to Cassian, asking him what to do about the annoying roommate who developed a crush on his brother.

Your chest hurts, but it was just a silly crush. You’ll get over it.

Eventually.

-

Azriel stood in the elevator, waiting for the doors to close as he looked at his phone, looking at the last message you had sent him Friday morning.

Wanna grab lunch tomorrow?

He hadn’t answered, his phone having been on silent all day to focus on finishing his work for the next week and the reception in the library not allowing messages to come through. He hadn’t seen the message until he woke up this morning, the timestamp seeming cruel.

Now he stares at it and wants to throw his phone. Missed opportunities, he supposes. But what would this lunch have looked like since you’re dating that dickhead from last night? Would you have had to reject him outright?

He can see your face contort in a smile as you tell him, “oh no, Az, I’m seeing someone.” Then you’d probably laugh about it with the dickhead.

He runs his hands down his face when he hears someone yelling, “hold the elevator please!” He juts out an arm on instinct, not noticing who it is. He sees you slip inside, the doors bumping against his arm, bringing him back to reality as he looks down at you.

Fuck.

A light scent of oranges fills the elevator, and he notes it’s likely from your shampoo. He pulls his arm from the door, allowing them to close, locking the two of you in the metal box.

You look up at him, eyes going wide, cheeks heating in embarrassment at the close proximity. You’re standing right in front of him, and you can smell his cologne, a scent of night-chilled air and cedar filling your nose. You take deep breaths, telling yourself that it’s okay, it was just a little crush.

On a very pretty, smart, and very kind guy.

Who smelled incredible.

You look down at your feet, unsure how to speak to him now that you knew he was dating Nesta. And not wanting to further embarrass yourself by flirting with him.

Gods, this was how you were going to die, you think, shuffling to lean against the rail. Azriel’s voice puts a halt to the spiraling of your thoughts.

“Nice date last night?” Azriel asks, trying not to let whatever he’s feeling bubble up. Your eyebrows shoot up, unaware of Azriel even knowing about your date.

Of course he knows, you think, Cassian probably told him he’d handle it.

“He spent the while night telling me about stocks and crypto and how he wants to be in Forbes 30 under 30,” you scoffed, “so no, it was not nice.”

The elevator starts moving, and his eyebrows shoot up. “So that wasn’t your boyfriend?”

You scoff, “hell no. Mor ambushed me yesterday. She told me to get dressed up and we’d go out and have a fun girl’s night, but when I showed up she texted me that she set me up instead.

“The worst part is Mor was so confident that she told Cassian about it, so he had stayed at her place last night to give me ‘privacy’. He even left crude drawings around the apartment to help the ‘atmosphere’.”

Azriel laughs as the elevator dings for the third floor. He feels his chest lighten, knowing you definitely weren’t seeing anyone. “Mor’s always been ambitious, hasn’t she?”

You laugh. “Maybe it was just a ploy for her to have sex with Cassian.”

You say it, but you know it’s not true. The real truth was they wanted to put you out there, help you get over the beautiful man standing next to you. They knew you didn’t have a shot, especially compared to Nesta. You’re brought back to reality, and decide to hurt yourself further.

“How was your date with Nesta?” You ground out, after a pause in your conversation. You needed to know so you can completely cut off your feelings for him. You needed him to pierce you with the final dagger.

His eyebrows arch up, and he looks at your expression.

Were you upset? You won’t meet his gaze, and you’re clenching your fists. Were you - jealous?

His mouth curls up at the thought, “uh it wasn’t a date. Nesta and I study together every Thursday night. We take a lot of the same classes. We did it last night instead because she was busy on Thursday.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, “so you’re not dating Nesta?”

He laughs, “absolutely not. No that’s an avenue I’d never go down. But there is some-“

His words die as you hear a screeching sound and the elevator stops completely, leaving you two stranded somewhere between the first and second floors.

“No - no, no, no.”

You start freaking out - elevators always gave you a bit of concern, their small dimensions making you feel cramped. You hit the button to open the door, jamming it with your finger. Realizing that it was fruitless, You pull out your phone only to remember that the elevator always has no service.

“Fuck,” you mumble, and your breaths start coming faster and faster, and you’re trying to remember your calming techniques, when you feel cold hands gently grab your cheeks.

“Hey, look at me.”

You look up, finding hazel eyes looking back at you. They’re etched with concern, not a trace of mockery in them.

“We’re okay. Breathe with me, can you do that?”

He grabs one of your hands, placing it on his chest so you can feel his breaths as they come in and out. Your eyes stay trained on his, not wanting to look away, wanting to get lost in the gold flecks you find there.

You start following the rhythm of his breaths, but he keeps talking to you in a soothing tone. You’re too focused on breathing to register what he’s saying, but you do register the soothing tone he’s speaking to you in. You could get lost in his voice, its deep timbre a melody in your ears.

Eventually you come back down enough to focus on what he’s saying and he’s telling you about his night - everything he did yesterday.

“Rhys texted me to get some trash bags on my way in, which is where I was coming from when I pulled up and found you with crypto douche.”

You smile, your first real reaction to his words since the elevator stopped.

“There she is,” he says, his finger tapping your cheek, “wanna tell me more about crypto douche?”

“He wants to be a landlord.”

Azriel snorts, “of course he does.”

“I didn’t even want to go on this date,” your eyes stay locked with his, the golden flecks calming you down. “But Mor has been begging me to go out with this guy for ages, and then she finally decided to ambush me by forcing it on me.”

“You know you can tell Mor “no”. It’s a complete sentence.”

“I know,” you sigh, “but she loves playing matchmaker, even though she’s awful at it. Usually once every other month I let her set me up, but she was just throwing a tantrum I wouldn’t let her set me up this time once I figured out the rouse.”

He doesn’t let himself linger on the fact that you haven’t let her set you up since meeting him. Coincidence, maybe. “Have any of them been successful?”

You blow out a breath, “uh, no. Usually I stay for an hour then leave. None of them have ever gotten a second date.” You pause, thinking. “In the words of the great philosopher of our time, “I’m a pathological people pleaser,” you chuckle.

“And who said that?”

“…. Taylor Swift.”

He looks at you, a chuckle on his breath, such tenderness in his gaze it shocks you a bit. “You should stand up for yourself more.”

“I’m… not really sure how. It’s kind of new to me.”

You look at your feet, but he taps your chin so you’ll look at him again. “I stood up to my parents, and it was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

You had tiptoed around the topic since your admission to Cassian the day you moved in, the wound still too raw to discuss with anyone other than Feyre. Mor knew some of the details, but not the whole story. You’re sure Rhys and Az knew that something happened with your parents, but you never let them know too much about it.

They didn’t know that your parents had told you that you became everything they had tried to avoid. That, despite everything they did for you, you didn’t turn out right.

You hadn’t told Mor because you knew she would have burnt down their house with them in it.

“It was scary, moving here with a guy I hardly knew.” His grip on you tightens slightly, and he’s hanging onto every word you say.

“But I don’t regret it. Not even when Cassian wakes me up at 6 AM with his singing.”

He chuckles, and he stills as you look into his eyes, your voice clear and strong.

“I don’t… I don’t regret any of it. I don’t regret meeting you.”

His hands are still cupped on your face, his face mere inches from your own. Your confession hangs in the air as you two look at each other, and he leans closer, pressing his forehead to yours.

Your breathing hitches, but not because you’re stuck.

He opens his mouth to reply, but the elevator comes back to life, moving downwards again. It startles both of you into jumping away from each other, and you clear your throat.

“Where are- where are you going?” You ask, gesturing towards his helmet.

“Oh, uh Cassian forgot his lunch and doesn’t have time to grab anything between clients. I was going to bring him something.”

The air is lighter between you two, and Azriel feels like he can breathe you in again. The fog of confusion has lifted between you two, leaving you to be seen clearly by him.

“Do you want to get lunch?”

He echos your previous text message to him, and you nod.

“Yeah I’d love that.”

You stroll through the lobby, putting as much distance between the falter elevator and yourselves. Once you make it to the parking lot, Azriel places his spare helmet on your head, tapping the top of it lightly affectionately.

You zip your jacket up as Azriel gets on the bike first, his thighs straddling the seat. He holds the bike steady, allowing you to place your hands on his shoulders for balance, letting go of your fears as you swing your leg around to straddle the bike behind him. Your body leans against his, wrapping around him, holding onto him.

You place your head on his back, your fingers clutching onto his jacket. It feels new, electricity crackling through every inch of you that is in contact with him, despite the layers and helmets that separate you.

He chuckles at the gasp you let out when you two start moving, how your hands hold onto his jacket a little tighter than before.

He pulls a hand away to place it gently on one of the hands you have clutched to his jacket, squeezing three times before moving his hand back.

[privitivium]

I'd love to see a sub version of Ivette... cute creepy guy who's so hot and wet he can barely stand right when you're around

Maybe he has black hair to contrast with Ivette, or white hair to further the trope, gross perverted creep who looks like an angel

creep subbot ftm;; kasen x m domtop reader

white hair subbot creep vs white hair dombot ivette…. whos winnin thr squirt off Fr. can't decide black or white hair but ,,, gross perverted creep who looks like angel,,, >> i'll go with that for now :3 cw;; somnophilia,, pretty much,,, overall weirdo i cant stress this enough

you shouldve been a little weirded out when he applied to be your roommate,, not questioning at all why he wouldn't look you in the eye, why he was so blushy, why he kept rubbing his thighs together,,, but you weren't the least bit curious - this fella was probably just a nervous wreck, riddled with social anxiety? he's so cute,,. you were too ecstatic to have a roommate to see his trembling, nervous figure stumbling around as you gave him a lame tour, showing him around briefly in person rather than the pictures you provided.,, kasen was so happy. so fucking happy - it was gonna be so easy now.. easy to sniff and rub his scent all on your clothes while ur away at class or work.. rather than sneaking in through your window like he usually does,,, he's an agile fella, and you made it easier for him by keeping your windows propped open for a breeze. you must want him as bad as he wants you, huh… you can't fool him!!!

he's your roommate..!! still marveling at the fact, hidden in the bathroom and thighs rubbing together and needing to change his underwear that's sopping with his mess, unable to get through the “tour” - god he cant even be around you without making a complete fucking mess of himself,, he cant help it!!! he strips them off, pulling his pants back on and planning to hide them at the bottom of your underwear drawer or even in your pillowcase,,, he's just infatuated - your charismatic personality, so eager to make friends with him.. so polite…

you saw him as your best friend - your shy little buddy, who is still ever so bashful when talking to you after several months of being with one another,, you're trying your best to help him be comfortable, to come out of his shell.. he commends you, really,, you're so kind to him, he can't help it,,, he just can't act natural with his pussy aching for you !! kasen thought he would have mustered up the courage to do something - anything after several months,, but alas..! it aches, aches so painfully for your cock,,, wondering what it feels like, what it smells like - ( not having it in him to take a peek while ur sleeping,,,) pussy secreting and lubing up his puffy pink lips, accentuated by his white pubes that he makes sure is carefully trimmed, just to look pretty in case you walk in on him fingering himself in his bed,, god hes so weird. you dont even really talk about love, or liking someone.. why is kasen so sure that you're totally fucking in love with him?? he's sure.. he's positively sure that he's heard you moaning his name while masturbating… or was that a daydream? his mind tends to blend in with reality..

crying to you about rumors about him being a disgusting pervert around school that he started up, just to be held and comforted by you.. cuddling him on the couch, consoling him gently, “you'd never do such a thing, i believe you bro..” before putting on a movie to help distract him. falling asleep in the middle of it, snoring gently in his ear.. when he's sure you're asleep, fingering himself while simultaneously pressing his ass against your crotch,,, a freak.

imagine your surprise when you come home to find the slim white-haired man fingering himself in your shirt, on your bed. i mean, the first instinct is to throw hands, right?? but it would be utterly awkward to fight this guy,, his hands wet with his juices, lower half completely bare, thighs squeezing around his wrist as he whimpers into your pillow - before he began squealing in surprise, ripping his fingers from his pussy and sitting upward, amber eyes glittery with tears - you cringe. kasen was mildly infuriated - he was just about to cum. what's the harm in continuing? you were just standing there, watching... and he's somehow the freak??? “... i guess they werent kidding about those rumors..” you frowned, eyes narrowed before you were rubbing a hand over your face. out of disappointment? maybe. it ruins kasen,,, but. it seems like he likes that sort of thing, being in pain. humiliated,,, “but, man.. you sure are a cute motherfucker..” you huff, shaking your head and tsk-ing..

“please,,, don't - don't hurt me..” play the victim,, act innocent as you can, kasen,,, “i just like you so much,, i-i love you, even…” he'd murmur, tearfully choked up as he shifts his knees inside the shirt he was wearing. that was literally on the top of your dirty clothes.. what a little weirdo.

“yeah.. yeah alright.” you nod, ruffling your hair with a tired expression,, kasen was right after all, you had been jerking off to his cute little blushy face,, how could you not, having such a cute lil roommate?? and now, on your bed and in your shirt, so painfully close to cumming? you obviously take advantage of this.. slowly edging toward him, sitting on your bed and nonchalantly ignoring kasen before pulling him on ur lap, arm wrapped around his neck while ur hand trails down to his lips to which he immediately fixes his legs to spread open - fidgeting, just because he's so happy and excited, mewling and whimpering like an excited puppy,, slowly fingering him, humming in contentment at how slick he is, how easily ur fingers fit before scissoring dutifully and thumbing his clit,,,,

he'd be into some masochistic shit.. wanting to be insulted.. “ur pussy is the only thing ur good for, you disgusting fucking freak,,,,” type shit. makes him cum relatively easy,, but otherwise sobs after, questioning in a squeaky voice - “is my pussy really my only good quality????? don't you love me for me????” like an insecure gf. or bf, rather… which you quickly assure in a tired voice;; “yes, sweetie i love all of your qualities,” and listing them all just to assure him or else he'd continue to cry while rubbing himself on ur thigh with his face buried in ur neck. LOL

[gojhoes]

Flesh Wound

summary: Yuta shows up to his new school with a single goal in mind: stay under the radar. Only he lands in the direct path of the school's outcast- you, with your hemp cigarettes and permanent scowl. An unlikely friendship, dark pasts, and sweet nothings.

warnings: mature topics, TRIGGER WARNING: dissociation, description of self-harm, suicide pairings : yuta x fem!reader (as teenagers and adults) contents: slow burn, hurt/comfort, time jumps, no curse au, not canon, reader has piercings/tattoos/dyed hair (mentioned), aged-up in next part wc: ~7k

“You’re in my seat.”

So much for laying low, Yuta thinks, which he has been successful in accomplishing up until this moment. He raises his head to see your steely gaze threatening to tear him to pieces and his mouth goes dry. He's too startled to get a proper look at you, but he immediately notices your septum piercing and the dark kohl lining your eyes.

“Oh, sorry!” he says lamely. He scrambles clumsily to his feet and resultantly knocks his binder to the floor. You're staring daggers at him as you lower yourself into your unassigned-assigned seat, and he bends to retrieve the fallen binder with shaking hands.

The desks in the classroom are arranged in pairs, most of which were already filled by a body or a backpack when Yuta walked in several minutes ago. Upon a quick survey, he sees that the only remaining option is the desk to your left, and something tells him there's a reason why it otherwise sits empty. He smiles at you nervously in hopes to dull the tension, but you've already looked away to pull a pair of headphones and a book from your dark green tote bag.

It's his third attempt at his first day of upper secondary school, and Yuta has already decided that there will not be a fourth. In his head, he'll joke that three schools in six months is probably some kind of record, but the reality is that it's embarrassing. His introversion and awkward nature already make socializing difficult for him, so his new plan to avoid it altogether. The two vices have only increased in intensity since leaving primary school, but he's grown accustomed to being alone.

It's normal to him, to lay awake into the early hours of the morning as the knife of loneliness cuts through him and twists savagely. It's normal, he thinks, to daydream about having tons of friends who sling their arms around his shoulders at parties as they hand him a red cup made of plastic. Everyone eats their lunch by themselves outside on the sidewalk...every day. Even if he is aware of the truth deep down, it's much easier to cloud his conscious mind and live as though he's not really there. As though he is an observer of his own body, watching the movie that is his life from above.

But you looked right at him and ripped him from that daydream he so desperately clings to without awareness. Before he can put his head down and lull himself back to safety, the tardy bell rings, and the cacophony of students' conversations quiets as the teacher commences roll call.

Yuta is painfully aware of when she goes straight from Ogawa to Ryu, skipping right over his own last name. His pulse jumps- he knows what's coming, and regardless of how many schools he's been in and out of, he always hates this part. No one really cares to know him, but he obliges to limit the awkwardness and speed up the exchange.

"Please welcome your newest classmate," the teacher says, gesturing toward him with a smile. "Yuta Okkotsu, stand up, please."

But he's already standing, so he waves awkwardly as every head in the classroom turns in his direction. Except for you, whose eyes remain trained directly on the book in your hands, and Yuta swears he hears you tsk under your breath. "Please call me Yuta."

There is a unified murmur of empty welcomes and the teacher allows him to retake his seat. Yuta eyes dart around the room, doing everything he can to avoid pissing you off further. He catches sight of the perfectly painted black polish on your nails and pauses at a nasty looking scar stretching across your knuckles. Otherwise perfect hands marred by silvery tissue knitted over bone. You catch him trying to read the title printed on the cover of your book and you scowl, placing your tote on top of the table to block his view.

Yuta sighs as he opens his binder. He wonders briefly if the next six months will be like this, every day spent a few inches away from someone who despises him. It's not his fault if there aren't any other open desks, but somehow guilt riddles him anyway.

The next several hours pass without incident, and Yuta is shocked to see that you've done nothing but read for the entire class. The teacher seems to ignore you largely, even skipping over you when she goes around the room with handouts. You've said nothing more to him, so Yuta adopts the attitude that everyone else seemingly exhibits toward you.

There's a tap on his shoulder, startling him, and Yuta flinches as he turns around to glimpse the assailant.

"Sorry," says a boy with pinkish dyed hair. "Do you have a pencil I can borrow?"

Yuta waits for the jests and laughter to follow, but it doesn't come. The boy holds his stare until Yuta realizes he isn't being cheeky, and stutters out a reply. "Yeah, hold on."

It's already a few minutes before lunch and this guy is just now asking for a pencil?, Yuta thinks to himself. But he doesn't voice the thought, only twisting to hold out the utensil as the boy smiles. "Thanks, uh..Yuki?"

"Yuta," he corrects gently. The boy laughs nervously as he rubs the back of his neck.

"Right, sorry. I'm Yuji, just so you know. Thanks for the pencil."

Yuta nods, but as he turns around he struggles not to cringe visibly. Everything about the exchange makes him want to crawl into a hole and die. He curses himself for the ineptitude of his social skills as the teacher wraps up the rest of her lesson.

The second that everyone is dismissed for their lunch break, you're on your feet and tearing out of the room without a word. You are distractingly strange, from the piercing in your nose to the odd scar painting your hand. As he pulls last night's leftovers of kimchi stir-fry from his bag, Yuta's wondering where you've gone in such a desperate hurry. He doesn't notice Yuji standing beside him until the other boy drops something on his desk unceremoniously.

"Here," Yuji says cheerfully. "For giving me your pencil."

Yuta pauses to take in the packaged sweet bun that now graciously sits before him. He looks up at his classmate as though the kid is God himself.

Yuji gestures at the seat beside him. "She's scary, right?" he says. "I'm surprised she let you sit with her."

Yuta lets out a breathy nervous laugh. "Yeah, I don't think she likes me very much."

Yuji's leans in, straight-faced as he holds eye intense contact with Yuta. "Nah, she doesn't talk, like, ever. Ever ever."

There is an uncomfortable pause until Yuji suddenly pulls back and smiles. "You seem like a cool guy, so don't let someone like her get your mind twisted. Where are you from?"

Yuta decides he likes this Yuji kid very quickly. Since the seat next to him is yours, Yuji stays upright to chat while Yuta picks at his lunch. Before he knows it, Yuta has spent the entire break period talking (mostly listening), until the bell rings and snaps him out of the conversation. His heart is pounding, but he can't deny that it was a nice chat.

You, on the other hand, slide back into your seat two seconds before the tardy bell goes off. He considers asking you where you went, but his thoughts get interrupted when he sees you pull a pen and an actual notebook out of your bag. The lesson after lunch is biology, which is one that Yuta doesn't care much about, but you seem to be perking right up as you date a blank page.

The end of the day arrives at last, but the teacher has apparently decided that the torture of an eight-hour span of learning is not enough. Before dismissing the class, she announces a quarter-long group project that "is to be completed with your tablemate".

Yuta feels like he's been dipped in acid the way his body tenses uncomfortably. Anxiety deprives his mind of words, but fuck, he has to ask you because it's worth 30% percent of his final grade. And he's trying to be a better student, a better person, blah blah blah. So he follows you as you sprint out the door, unwilling to back down.

He opens his mouth to call out your name only to realize that he doesn't know it. You had given no introduction, not acknowledging him or anyone else the entire day. In the haze of his desperation, Yuta thrusts his hand out and wraps his hand tightly around your forearm.

You flinch and gasp loudly as you whirl around to face him, eyes wide with panic. Upon realizing it was him, your shock turns to irritation with a nasty scowl. "What?" you snap. "What the fuck, let me go!"

He loosens his grip and drops his arm to by his side, highly aware that you just screamed "let me go" at him in a crowded hallway. However, no one seems to be paying attention to either one of you in their hurry to escape.

"Don't run," he says firmly.

You're gripping where he'd grabbed you with your other hand. "That fucking hurt, you asshole."

He ignores you, even if he does feel a little bad for grabbing you as hard as he did. "We need to figure out our project stuff."

You laugh, sharp and humorless laugh right in his face. "I'm not doing that shit."

It's not often that Yuta gets angry, but he can't help but to feel irritated by your flighty attitude. He had come to this school for a fresh start with a plan to do well and keep to himself. He, of all people, understands the hatred of group projects, but you still have to do them. He wants to argue with you and remind you that it's not just your grade at stake, but he knows that it's useless. You're already halfway down the hall, and he knows that you aren't going to look back. *** Yuta walks into the classroom with a set jaw and squared shoulders. There are exactly two days left until the deadline to submit the first draft of the project. True to your word, you have contributed absolutely nothing and have not offered to help once. And Yuta can't stop putting it off any chance he gets because at heart, he is a procrastinator, and it's complete bullshit that you get to blow it off without consequence.

So, he is on a mission, channeling every ounce of confidence that he's capable of producing. He's crafted his approach very diligently; he's going to demand that you participate in this project. No stuttering, no softness, no taking "no" for an answer. The shred of confidence he's got holds true as you walk through the door with your head already buried in a book.

You're late, as usual, and Yuta finds himself wondering how you haven't been kicked out of the school with your observably poor attendance record. He's come into this expecting to be shot down, or for you to yell at him or maybe slap him with one of your hardcover novels. He does not expect the simple and submissive "okay" that escapes your parted lips.

Yuta blinks at you. "Okay?"

You shrug, closing your book after marking your place with a sticky note. You're looking at him head-on with no trace of evidence that you might be messing with him. "If I say no, you'll probably cry, and I don't want that on my conscience."

A part of him screams that he should argue against such a statement, but the surprise at your cooperation overshadows the usual bite of your disrespect. Yuta relaxes visibly as he launches into phase two of his mission: organizing the project.

He explains, "Well, the first draft is due in two days, so we should work on it as soon as possible," noticing how you frown at the end of his sentence. "What?"

"You haven't even started?" you say dubiously, drawing your brows together.

Yuta's jaw drops. How are you going to turn this around on him when you insisted you weren't going to help in the first place? But as usual, he holds his tongue and replaces the quip with the first words that come to mind. "Well, I- I've been busy and I'm not good at science-"

As is typical of you, you interrupt him mid-sentence once again. "One: you're a terrible partner, and two: how can you be bad at science? Literally all you have to do is read." You sigh sharply and pinch the bridge of your nose. "It seems you really do need my help."

If tolerating your backward insults was what he had to do to get you to help, then so be it. Your jests were something he was growing used to, anyway.

"When should I come over then?" you ask nonchalantly.

A normal teenaged boy would be doing somersaults at the prospect of having a girl ask to go to his house, but Yuta can only feel his anxiety soar as he grimaces. Every millisecond seems to last a full minute as he tries to think of answer. He hadn't thought about the fact that he was going to have to see you outside of school.

You can't come to his house, not with the state of it right now. Yuta would rather die than you lay eyes on his place. The lamest excuse tumbles out of his mouth. "Oh, my mom doesn't let me have-"

"God, fine," you groan, rolling your eyes. "You can just come to my house after school, I guess."

Yuta blanches. "Today?"

You glare at him, and he raises his hands defensively.

"You said "as soon as possible"," you spit matter-of-factly.

"No, no, it's fine," he says quickly. "Thank you."

He's never been to a girl's house before under any circumstances. He's nervous, no- he's terrified to be alone with you.

"Don't think this means I like you," you say as you jab your finger at him.

Yuta shakes his head insistently as if to prove just how much he understands. *** The rest of the day drags on, and by the time the dismissal bell rings, Yuta's nails are nothing but bitten-down stumps. He is so nervous that he's sure there will be sweat stains when he takes his uniform off later. He has a mental image of a bedroom with black-painted walls and a spiked coffin in place of a bed.

The walk to your house is short and painfully quiet. You move surprisingly fast, as though as you can't stand to slow down in fear of wasting time. And he's disappointed by the quaint house that you approach with your keys in hand. He'd half-expected a vampire's den, but the place is nothing of the sort. There's a lawn statue designed to look like a cat sitting by the front door. There are several large pothos plants hanging from the spandrels, lush and bright green- clearly well taken care of.

"My mom gets home at 8:30, so we have a few hours," you say as you turn to unlock the front door. "Want a snack or anything?"

The offer is kind and so uncharacteristic of you that it takes him aback slightly. He declines, silently trailing behind as you lead him into the kitchen.

Something soft brushes at his ankles and he glances down to see an orange cat head-butting him. Yuta smiles and bends to rub its ears as it purrs against his hand.

"That's Momo," you say. "She's super friendly." The cat rushes to your side when you say its name and you scoop it up easily with one hand. You're not smiling, but there is a softening of your gaze as you scratch behind Momo's ears, who has their eyes closed purring contentedly.

"Want to give her a treat?" you ask. "She'll love you forever."

Yuta grins. "Hit me." And you're handing him a blue tube with pinkish gel creeping out the open end. Momo goes ballistic, springing out of your arms and racing over to Yuta's ankles once again. He bends down to give it to her, laughing at the zeal with which she devours the treat.

He glances up to see you smiling a little, and it's shocking. "Churu's her favorite."

"I can tell."

You snort. "Let's go up."

Yuta follows with Momo on his heels as you ascend to the upper level. The anxiety has really settled in as he realizes he's about to be alone with a girl in her room.

He sheds the backpack hanging from his shoulders and retrieves his binder in search of the incomplete project outline. Your desk is impeccably organized and Yuta notices a pair of succulents on top. The single window in the room sits behind the desk, overlooking the street below.

"You can take the mushroom," you point to an impossibly tiny mushroom-shaped stool in the corner. Yuta doesn't dare risk facing your wrath by declining, so he drags it over to your desk and settles himself down awkwardly.

"So, I was thinking we do a visual," Yuta starts.

You hum, peering over his scarce notes with your brows drawn in concentration. "Sure."

Yuta has spent every day of the last two weeks sitting a couple of inches to your right, but it feels very different doing so in your room. You're still wearing your school clothes, but your hair is clipped back and strands of it fall into your face as you write down ideas. The light here is different, and he sees you from other angles. More than once, he finds his gaze straying to the exposed flesh of your thighs spreading across your desk chair.

It's a lot of back and forth, but eventually the outline looks decent enough that Yuta is satisfied. He's writing out the remaining formulas, feeling burnt out as he tries to recall the specific elements. A quick glance at his phone tells him that it's 8:02PM, meaning you've been at it for nearly three hours.

"Ugh, give me that." You reach to yank the pencil from his grasp, fingers lingering on his as you frown. "Why are you wearing a ring?" you ask.

Yuta glances at the silver band around his finger which has been there so long it may as well have been part of his body. It feels strange for you to be touching his hand, so he drops the pen and lays it flat on top of his thigh.

"It was a gift," he replies with a tone that welcomes no further questions. You're surprised by the hardness of his voice, only nodding as you hold the pencil properly to write. Yuta thinks that perhaps, one day he will tell you, but it's not a story he wishes to recall in any sort of detail. You're quick to change the subject, asking him to read off the measurements so you can fill them in. It seems that you're apt for reading the moods of others, so much so that Yuta sends you his silent appreciation. *** The weekend comes and goes all too quickly, and before he knows it, it's Tuesday again, and up in your room, you're arguing with Yuta about which colors to use in your project.

"Warm colors are not scientific," you insist. "Our project is biology, so it should be green. Life equals green, or whatever."

"Why do you suddenly care so much about the quality of your work?" Yuta shoots back. He's not angry, the argument being more so teasing than real. But he's learned recently that he kind of enjoys seeing you get riled up, so when you first expressed your discontent with his color choice, he decided to hang back and see where the altercation would go.

You sigh sharply and squeeze your eyes shut for a second. When you open them, you reach into your desk drawer and pull out something he can't see, because you've already shoved it into your pocket.

"I need a break," you say. "Let's go."

You're walking out of your bedroom with intention in your every movement. Yuta follows, letting you lead him through the house, then outside behind a garden shed. He's sandwiched between two feet of space between it and the tall wooden fence surrounding your home. You stand just before him, thrusting your hand into your pocket to pull out... a pack of cigarettes?!

"Come on, it's just CBD," you say, rolling your eyes at Yuta's stunned expression. "My mom knows a lady who rolls them by hand."

As if that makes it any better. There's a lighter in your other hand as you slip a cigarette between your lips. Expertly, you hold it over the small flame and take the first drag.

"What does you mom do?" Yuta asks. Neither of you have talked much about your families, but the way you speak about your mom makes him curious.

You exhale, and smoke billows around him. "She's a ballet instructor."

"Oh."

You're puffing on the cigarette as though it's natural to you. He watches the way you drag on it, counts out how long it takes, and he likes the way you blow the smoke out through your teeth. It's captivating, and he feels for a moment that he might be in a movie.

"Oh, sorry," you say, holding it out to him. "Did you want some?"

Yuta slips the cigarette between his index and middle fingers, observing it as he contemplates whether to try it. He raises his eyebrows at you before bringing it to his lips. "You're sure this is CBD?"

You nod. "Scout's honor."

So, he takes a drag, trying to copy your exact motions down to the exhale. He coughs a little, but aside from a smoky flavor on his tongue, there is no noticeable difference.

"Do you like it?"

Yuta shrugs and passes it back. "I don't really feel anything."

You roll your eyes and scoff at him. "You need to have more than one hit, dummy. It's not supposed to feel like much of anything."

He doesn't understand your logic (he rarely does), but he watches as you finish it off, flicking ashes into a small hole dug into the dirt under the shed.

*** "How do you get away with your nose ring?" Yuta asks.

He's sitting at your desk with his hands hovering over his laptop keyboard, halfway facing it while also trying to look at you over on the bed. Summer has come more quickly than anticipated and with it, the project's deadline is fast approaching. It's the weekend, but you called an emergency study session to start working out the fine details of the presentation.

"I get away with a lot," you reply. "My mom works for the school board so I'm basically invincible."

Yuta is pretty sure that he has finally met someone more emo than he is. Despite the leveling out of his relationship with you, you still give the entire school the cold shoulder, and aside from the project, the rest of your work remains untouched. You're reading manga in class now, having replaced your giant hardcovers with smaller volumes. Yuta doesn't know you well enough to know that you only read manga when you're doing poorly.

You take it to a whole other level, though, with all your frowning and the dark clothing. But today is different. You're on the bed lying on your stomach, wearing a blue tank top with your hair pulled back, kicking your feet while propping your chin on curled hands. You're more talkative than usual, and you seem relaxed as a warm breeze musses up your bangs.

"I did them myself," you say after a few moments. "All you need is a sewing needle and some rubbing alcohol."

You can google this, but when some people are depressed, their pain tolerance increases. Some meds can affect it too."

Yuta could only stare. "Right."

You always seemed to know so much about medicine and the body. Despite the lack of work ethic you exuded, you seemed really into the anatomy chapter in class. Since he'd started spending more time with you, he'd learned that you had a true affinity for science. You liked knowing how things work, how A relates to B so you could understand it better.

"Would you do one for me?" he asks.

You visibly hesitate, but your expression is a concerned one. "Are you sure? It hurts like a motherfucker, Yuta."

He nods. "Yeah, I think I want my left ear. Stop looking at me like that."

Your giggles fill the room, and it's the sweetest sound ever to grace his ears even if it's at his expense. "I'm tougher than I look," he says indignantly, smiling widely.

The work has been abandoned. You scramble from atop the covers and quickly murmur your destination before bouncing out of the room. You return a minute later with a sewing box, a red wash rag, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"Come to the bed," you instruct him. He does, accidentally disturbing a napping Momo when he lowers himself down. You set the sewing box and rag down on the desk right on top of the script the two of you'd been half-assing for the last hour. He watches as you soak a bit of the rag with rubbing alcohol and turn around to face him.

There will be blood," you say seriously.. "Red so it doesn't stain, or my mom will bitch at me."

Yuta leans back on his palms as you stand to his side and reach up to hold his earlobe so you can disinfect it. The scent of the alcohol burns his nose a little, but part of him likes it. You hold him by the chin with one hand and rub small circles over his earlobe with the other. He watches you as you work and realizes that he likes seeing you in your element. Your brows are drawn in concentration, but your hands are steady.

You pull back, dropping your hand from his chin and your eyes meet his. "You ready?"

Yuta nods, trusting you fully not to hurt him more than necessary. You turn to reveal a sewing needle and the red rag from before. You place the rag in his hand before moving to situate yourself in front of him. He's waiting for you to go for the same position, but you're hesitating, biting your lip and you pinch the needle between two fingers.

"Uh, sorry," you say, and he thinks it's the first time he's even seen you act even a little flustered. You stand just to his left side, the outside of your knee brushing against his ribs and you're holding his chin again. Yuta's heart rate jumps at the contact.

"Want me to count?"

He shakes his head and squeezes a squishmallow in his fist. And then you're putting the needle in and he sucks in a breath. He makes a mental note to apologize to the plushie later because right now he's damn near destroying it.

"You feel okay?" you ask. Your voice is serious, concerned yet steady.

It stings, it burns, a fucking needle just went through his flesh, but the pain seems somehow faraway now. Your face is just a few inches away from his, and you're so close that he can smell the traces of hemp cigarettes on your breath. He is aware that blood soaking the wash rag you're holding against his neck, but he's too lost in your gaze to care as he answers breathlessly, "hardly felt it."

Your half-lidded eyes flick down to his lips. His heart hammers against his chest and he can see your pulse jumping on your neck. And he's reaching for you, acting more on instinct than rational thought. He thinks of sliding his thumb across the expanse of your jawline, of tucking a stray hair behind your ear. Blood roars in his ears and he lets his eyes flutter closed as you lean in, and his nose just barely brushes yours-

Then your phone is ringing, shrill and annoyingly intrusive, and you jump backward as you both flinch. Yuta feels hot, his shirt suddenly too thick and the room suddenly too small. He takes over holding the rag as you answer the call, getting up to go into the hallway.

Yuta's mind is reeling. He'd almost just kissed you...WHY DIDN'T HE JUST DO IT? He's cursing himself, cursing the cowardice that seems to be his default setting. What would've happened if your stupid phone hadn't started ringing?

And his thoughts are cut off when you burst back into the room and start cleaning up the papers strewn about your desk. Yuta notices the frown marring your face, any trace of your excitement having disappeared.

"My mom's gonna be home in like five minutes, so you gotta go," you say quickly. "Like now. Or she's gonna ground me."

"What about my ear?" he asks, rising to his feet. It's so painful and he's wondering how in the fuck you truly tolerated doing this to yourself.

You groan. "Yuta, I'm sorry, but you have to go. I'll text you what to do with your ear later."

And so he gathers his things, bids Momo farewell, and walks himself home with a bloody rag and a confused spirit.

Nothing like that happens again. You don't bring it up, and he takes it as a message to do the same. Even still, his mind will wander to the feeling of the tip of your nose touching his, and he often wonders if he'll ever get the chance to touch you again. *** A few weeks later, the project is nearing completion, and Yuta can't deny that the final draft is coming together well. He has spent every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon at your house while Momo oversees production and the two of you share snacks. He's learned that you prefer fruity flavors over milky ones and that you can devour an entire bag of seaweed snacks in ten minutes. It amuses him deeply, especially in comparison to the darkness you exude on a normal basis.

He's also learned that you love cats, and you sleep with three squishmallows every night. You have a green thumb when it comes to houseplants, and you paint every pot yourself. So, Monday night he asks his mother to get an extra bag of seaweed snacks so he can bring it to you the next day as a surprise.

But when Yuta arrives to the classroom that morning, you're not sitting in your unassigned-assigned seat. You beat him there almost every day now that he's doing library duty with Yuji, so he shrugs it off until it's well past roll call and you're still not there. At the next break, he shoots a text asking where you are, feeling awfully lonely without the usual annoyed glares sent from his left side.

Lunch comes and he's anxious when he looks at his phone to see there's been no reply. His thumbs hover over the screen as he debates whether to send another text, knowing it will annoy you, but his curiosity threatens to win the battle. Yuta glances up to see Yuji holding out a small handful of multicolored rock candy.

"I hate these," Yuji says, making a face. "You want it?"

Yuta blinks at him. “Uh, no, thank you.”

The other boy groans before tossing them right into his backpack, surely now gone forever. Yuta cringes a little, suddenly wondering what other…treasures might linger at the bottom of Yuji’s bag. But then his phone is buzzing in his hands and Yuta’s heart rate jumps thirtyfold. And it’s you (you’re alive!), and the excitement he gets from the three words you’ve sent is embarrassing, but he doesn’t care.

>the doctor >why

&lt;you missed a quiz.

>idc

A smile tugs at Yuta's lips. Of course you don't. His fingers fly over the keypad as he types out the question that's been burning in his mind all day.

&lt;am I still good to come over?

And you're quick to reply, making him wonder what was taking you so long before.

>u might get there before me but there's a key under the cat statue

Yuta is triumphant throughout the rest of the day. It's around 4:15 by the time he makes it to your front door, buzzing from how excited he is to deliver the bag of seaweed snacks. He glances around the porch, searching for the statue that looks like Momo to retrieve the alleged spare key.

The door is unlocked, so he concludes that you are home after all. He quickly returns to the key to its holder and closes the door behind him. It's dark inside, all the curtains drawn and the lights shut off. Momo is not there to greet him, and you are nowhere to be found. Yuta calls out your name in question.

There's a trilling sound as Momo descends the stairs and pads over to him, weaving in and out from between his shins. Yuta bends to give her some pets, but she darts away toward the stairs once more. She looks back at him before running up, tail flicking back and forth as she meows, and then it clicks.

"Oh!" he says. "Lead the way, ma'am, by all means."

So he follows, and as he reaches the top of the stairs he hears the sound of running water.

It's deja vu. He's seen this film before and is currently living in the end credits waiting for another scene that will never come. Is this the sequel? The parallels are so uncannily similar that it has to be a joke. It's a prank- it has to be. Your name tears from his mouth as he tries the doorknob knowing that it will be locked. And as predicted, it doesn't budge, so he knocks once, twice, three times, but there's no answer.

"Yuta, stop!" you say from the other side. Even from those two words, he can hear the distress in your voice. He feels desperate, shaky, and he knows he has to get you to open the door before you do something stupid. The words tear from his lungs,

"I will break this fucking door down if you don't open it right now!"

The water stops running. The only sound is Momo scratching at the door, trying just as desperately to get you to stop.

And it's you, and the sight makes his blood run cold. There are so many horizontal marks on your arms, and there's blood seeping from each one. Yuta is acting purely on instinct as he surges toward you.

He grips your forearms uncaring of the blood that's going to stain his skin. You're hyperventilating, hot salty tears streaming down your face as Yuta tries to get you to look at him. You're rasping something shakily over and over, and he's trying to get you to speak up so he can hear properly.

"Talk to me," he says gently. "It's okay."

He reaches to grab the washcloth hanging by the sink to press them to your cuts, but before the fabric makes contact, you burst into tears once more and shake your head frantically.

"No!" you cry. "Get the red ones from under the sink."

And it clicks for him then. This was not an isolated event, evident by the tall stack of red washrags and how you'd been so dead set on using one when you pierced his ear. You rarely wore short sleeves even when it had been so hot lately. He remembers grabbing you in the hallway at school and how you'd clutched at your arm then.

He holds one rag to each of your arms and instructs you to keep them there. On the bathroom counter is an assortment of pill bottles, each of which had your name printed on them with your date of birth. Drugs like fluoxetine, alprazolam, and lithium, all of which are ones he's been on himself over the years. A certain numbness flows through him as he detaches himself from the situation.

How close of a call was it? How long had you been planning? What triggered you? When? You've left him speechless, completely stupefied because of course, he should've seen the signs.

"Unlock your phone for me," he says calmly, handing the device to you. You comply. He scrolls through your contacts until he finds your mother's and instantly he taps the call button.

"Hello?"

It's a woman's voice, an unfamiliar one. Yuta keeps it brief, not wanting to upset you further by going into detail and acting like you aren't in the room.

"Yes, I'm staying with her until you get here. We're in the upstairs bathroom."

Yuta does not raise his voice. He does not scream, does not yell. He only regards you with sadness in his eyes as his fingers wrap around yours clutching the bottle.

"Yuta, why?" you wail.

It breaks his heart. It shatters his soul in a way that he knows is going to affect him longer after this moment, but he has to do it. Yuta tilts his wrist and lets the pills fall into the toilet until the rattling stops and the bottle is empty. There are tears streaming down your face and your eyes are wide with something that chills his blood as he glimpses you.

"I can't let you," Yuta says in a calm voice. His throat feels tight, like he might scream or burst into tears any moment, but he wills himself to remain composed for your sake. He cannot break when you need him so dearly.

You're sobbing as the words tumble from your mouth while you sink to your knees. "You don't understand..."

And Yuta's kneeling before you, resting both of his hands on either of your shoulders to pull you into him. You let him wrap his arms around your shaking body and he lets you weep. It's uncontrollable, it's animalistic, it's desperate and the sadness infects Yuta's heart. 17 years of pain, trauma, and too-heavy crosses fill his ears and poison his soul.

The two of you stay like that until your mother arrives several minutes later. Yuta hears the garage door open through the bathroom floor. You're still clinging to him, your sobs having turned into soft yet consistent cries and sniffles. He hears the jingle of keys and a set of footsteps that fly up the staircase until a woman stands in the way of the bathroom door.

You look like her, Yuta thinks. Your mother's tired eyes meet his and she thanks him. Yuta gently guides you to sit on the edge of the bathtub, feeling awkward to touch you so intimately in front of your mother. Your face is a mess, red and puffy with an empty expression that squeezes painfully at Yuta's heart.

"Yuta..." you say, gazing at his face sadly.

He knows it's his cue to leave, but his feet are rooted in place beneath the weight of your presence. He doesn't want to leave you. He thinks of the cries that ripped from your throat just moments ago, knowing that he will hear them in his dreams now. But it's not his place to rescue you. You'd said so yourself- you're not his girlfriend. So he squeezes your arm, keeping his eyes downcast, before rising to his feet and ducking out of the bathroom door.

Walking home is torture and sleep does not come that night. Nor the following, because his mind is devoted to replaying. And he goes to school that Monday half-awake and swaying as he stands in the breakfast line with Yuji. He sees your tear-stained face and empty eyes, the despair riddling your voice.

And he's heard nothing from you. No one at school asks about you, not even the teachers who see the empty seat that no one will take because it's yours. They see the dark circles painting his undereye, yet there is no mention of your name. He is so clearly on the edge of falling apart, but the world moves on around him despite claiming to care.

One week after that Monday, Yuta goes to the records clerk in the administration building during his lunch period. He asks for your emergency contact by name after briefly explaining your episode. The clerk agrees to give him your mother's phone number after insisting that he's your cousin. And those digits are gold to him, more precious than any gemstone money can buy.

"She's been admitted to a psychiatric facility," your mother explains. "We've pulled her out of school for now. Just want to give her time to get better, you know?"

All Yuta can see is you dressed in a hoodie with no strings and pants with no zippers as you trudge silently through hospital hallways. Your face devoid of all emotion, numb to the world as you recover from your dance with death.

Your mother said it's what you wanted, so Yuta had no choice but to let it go. So that following Monday, he goes to school. Not one person mentioned your name in passing, nor did they ask him about you.

But days turn into weeks, and months into years, and Yuta never saw you. Texts go ignored and every social media account you'd had was deleted. Selfishly, he feels that you've abandoned him, as desperately as he tries not to blame you in any way.

He walks by your house one afternoon to see a moving truck parked in the driveway as strangers, not you or Momo, march in and out of the front door. The cat statue on your porch isn't there, and Yuta's heart sinks to the ground. You're gone.

[maidragoste]

Babysitter

Larys Strong x Velaryon!Reader

Summary: Larys was thinking about spending a quiet afternoon alone with his wife but Jacaerys ruins his plans.

Modern AU where Sea Dragon was never with Harwin and she is married to Larys. Nobody asked for this but I'm a bitch for Larys and Sea Dragon so I wrote it. The truth is that I really enjoyed writing about them being domestic, please if you liked it, don't hesitate to comment, like or REBLOG 🥰💖💖

My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions 🤭🥰

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

When Larys entered, the first thing that caught his attention was that the house was silent instead of listening to the music that you usually played when you were at home. The second thing was that when Nightwing, your dog, went to meet him excitedly at the entrance and started barking, you asked him to stop, which was strange because Nightwing always did that and a long time ago the both accepted that she wouldn't stop doing it.

And the third thing was that a minute after Nightwing barked a baby cry was heard. As soon as he heard it Larys thought about opening the door again and leaving, maybe if he took Nightwing's leash and took her for a walk you wouldn't be upset with him for leaving but he doubted it. So he finished taking off his coat and tried to calm the dog by petting it as he headed to the kitchen.

"Hi," you greeted him and your husband turned to see you smiling at him from the living room. Despite the small tantrum a few seconds ago you looked happy to have their nephew Jacaerys in your arms "Harwin and Rhaenyra needed some time alone so I offered to take care of him"

He shouldn't be surprised. Lately every time the both went shopping you always "coincidentally" passed by the baby clothes section and stopped there for a while while you cooed just how small and cute the clothes are. Sometimes you even end up buying some compulsively. Not only that, every time you received a new photo of Jacaerys or your cousins' children you let out an "aww" and excitedly showed him the photos. When you two went to the park to take Nightwing out and you found a baby you started making faces at them until you managed to make them laugh. And now you were offering to take care of Jacaerys. He had a suspicion that you have baby fever.

"For how long?" he asked, hoping it would be an hour or two at most, he didn't want to spend the rest of the day with his nephew. When Larys got off work he had planned to come home and relax with you. He hoped they could take a bath together and then order something for dinner at that restaurant you like while watching some reality show.

"Just for a few hours"

Larys took the kettle out of the fire before it started making a lot of noise and Jacaerys would get scared.

"How many?" He asked, knowing that he wouldn't like the answer because you weren't being specific for some reason.

"They'll probably come looking for him at midnight" you responded and pouted as you heard the exasperated sigh your husband let out "Don't be like that, Jace is happy to see you" You went to sit on the couch when you saw that Larys entered the living room with two cups of tea.

"How do you know? He can't talk" Larys scoffed as he put the cups on the table. Nightwing, seeing that he sat down, instantly lay down on the floor.

"He crawled all over the house looking for you" you responded with a smile and you saw that the baby was starting to get restless so you left him on the carpet with his toys.

"You're talking shit"

"Larys! Language!" you scolded him, lamely, slapping him on the shoulder.

"He can't talk," your husband responded, rolling his eyes.

Larys really thought that you were lying and that you told him that hoping that it would warm him and maybe make him want to have a child. But it was obvious that you weren't lying because Jacaerys barely spent a minute with the toy before crawling to his side and starting to tug at his pants. Larys had never held a cup of tea so tightly, he was afraid that at some point it would fall and burn the child. The last thing he wanted was to end up going to the hospital. Besides, his brother would kill him for hurting Jacaerys.

Larys gave you an annoyed look as she placed the cup on the table.

"I told you he wanted to spend time with you" you scoffed but you took pity on him because you sat on the rug and got the baby's attention by making noise with one of his toys.

Jacaerys loosened his grip on the pants but he still seemed hesitant to let go.

“It's okay, Jace, your uncle isn't going anywhere. You can play with him later” you reassured him and the baby finally let go of his pants to go with you. You welcomed him with open arms and kissed his forehead.

“Don't lie to him, I'm not going to play with him,” your husband said as he took the cup back.

“Larys, stop being an ogre and enjoy your nephew's company.” There was no harshness in your voice but he knew you were serious.

He rolled his eyes and started drinking his tea. You managed to distract the baby by playing with him so Larys could enjoy his tea in peace. Your husband admired you as you responded to Jace's babbling as if it were a real conversation. Jace gave you one of his toys, which he had just slobbered on, but you didn't seem disgusted but instead concentrated on cooing and congratulating him for being so good and wanting to share his toy. You would be a good mother. He could imagine you doing the same with their children.

“Your tea is going to get cold,” Larys reminded you when he saw that your cup was still intact.

“It's okay, I can make another one later.”

But Larys knew you wouldn't. “Give it to me and have your tea,” he asked. You handed him, Jace, carefully and watched with a smile as your husband took the baby without hesitation, unlike the first few times he seemed hesitant before Harwin or Rhaenyra handed Jace to him. “The tea,” Larys repeated with a small smile when he noticed the way you looked at him. Maybe it wasn't so bad that Jace came. He instantly retracted that thought when his nephew started pulling his hair. “Harwin is raising a savage.”

“Don't be exaggerated,” you said, feeling warm from the view in front of you more than from the tea.

Later when Nightwing starts crying and staring at the door Larys, who ends up agreeing to “play” with Jacaerys just because she wants to spend time with you, gets up to go take the dog out. He watches with amusement as Jace begins to crawl with the intention of following his uncle but he is too slow so when he reaches the hallway where the door is he just sees Larys close the door and bursts into tears. You will instantly take him in your arms to comfort him. The door opens again and Larys enters again with Nightwing but Jace continues crying.

“Let's wrap him up so he can come with us,” your husband said as he approached you. “You're too annoying.” There's no malice in Larys' voice or when he pokes the baby's cheek with his finger. “Remind me to ask my father if Harwin was as crybaby as Jace when he was a baby,” he tells you as he takes his nephew away from you so that you can look in the bag that Rhaenyra had left you for some warm clothes.

“I will,” you say and give him a small kiss on the cheek before going to get the clothes.

You and Larys manage to quickly dress Jace under the pressure of Nightwing's crying. Any trace of distress on Jace's part disappears the moment you and Larys settle him into The Kangaroo Carry being carried by Larys. Your husband is struck by the fact that out of nowhere there is a baby carrier in the house, but he doesn't say anything, thinking that surely Rhaenyra left it or you bought it for future visits from Jace or your cousin's children.

Once Nightwing relieves her, instead of returning home, the both decide to go to the park that is close to home for a while. This time you are not the one who coos or makes faces at strangers' babies but the other way around. Larys would be lying if he said he didn't like hearing how people said you four looked like a sweet family. If your purpose with Jacaerys's visit was to get him into the idea of having their own child then you had achieved it.

Hours later, Jacaerys has just left with his parents and Larys is sitting exhausted on the couch hugging you around the waist. The television is on but he is not paying attention to the program rather he is looking at you. Your eyes are lighting up and you have a smile on your face as you look through your phone at all the photos you took today of the two of you with Jace.

“You know, if you want a baby you just had to tell me,” he said, catching your attention.

For a moment you look at him surprised but then you laugh and lean in to kiss him. Larys feels how all the tiredness in his body magically disappears while he savors the sweetness of your lips. But Larys definitely feels more awake when you whisper on his lips, “I'm already pregnant, you fool.”

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[diazsdimples]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

I'm getting to everyone's snippets tonight, I promise! I'm a few days behind cause lectures have just started up again 😬 tagged for Tuesday by @thewolvesof1998 and @elvensorceress thank you friends 🫶. Also I'm updating my taglist for the first time ever so please interact with this post if you want to be on it!

Figured I should probably get cracking on my 7x06 spec fic before the episode comes out so please enjoy a bit of Buck getting roasted by his best friend and boyfriend.

Eddie frowns, looking a little confused. “I thought you guys were all good?” “We are,” Buck replies, his eyes never leaving his parents as he watches them greet guests, both looking the brightest and bubbliest he’s seen them in years. From afar he’s sure they look like a regular, happy older couple enjoying their daughter’s wedding, but Buck can’t hide the way seeing them still makes his gut twist uncomfortably. Tommy snorts beside him, bringing him back to reality. “Except Evan decided it was a good idea not to mention me until today” Eddie does a little double take, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline. “Wait, you haven’t told them yet?” “I’m gonna go find Denny,” Christopher announces, bored of listening to the adults. “Is that okay, Dad?” “Yeah, of course bud. See you in a bit,” Eddie says, ruffling Christopher’s hair. The three of them watch as he shoots off, making his way towards Hen, Karen and Denny as fast as his legs can carry him. When he’s safely out of earshot, Eddie rounds on Buck again, fixing him with an incredulous look. “Seriously, Buck, in what world did you think springing this on them today was a good idea?” “That’s what I said!” Tommy says, flicking Buck a smirk as he squeezes his side. “Hey, you’re meant to be on my side!” Buck protests, elbowing Tommy in the ribs, but it’s all forgiven when Tommy brushes a light kiss against Buck’s temple.  “And I didn’t want to tell them in person, I thought doing it like this would be… easier,” Buck finishes lamely, aware of how delusional he’s sounding. “Uh huh, cause telling your parents big, life changing things has always been easy in person hasn’t it,” Eddie deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrow at Buck in a way that screams you’re an idiot and you know it. “Listen, I wasn’t exactly thinking -” “Clearly,” Tommy and Eddie say in unison, turning to one another with shit-eating grins as Buck gives them both a flat look, before continuing.  “- but, I didn’t want them to gripe at me and say they would have rather heard it face to face than from behind a phone.” “I think they probably would have had a go at you either way, honestly,” Eddie says with a sympathetic shrug, and he reaches over to squeeze Buck’s shoulder. Buck sighs and burrows closer into Tommy’s side, resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Tommy runs his hand down Buck’s spine, rubbing at each spinous process as he encourages Buck to relax. Buck softens a little, biting back a whine as Tommy nuzzles his nose against Buck’s hairline.  “You’re probably right,” he admits with a sigh. He’d really wanted nothing more than to heal his relationship with his parents but turns out it takes more than a little lightning strike and some shitty therapy sessions to mend years of trauma.

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