#maybe they;ll just never say his first name

[chaosandmarigolds]

Dreamscape

(canon? whats that? we go with vibes in this house. Fem!reader, based off an amazing!! ask....um this is just sadness, I'm sorry.....if you want to add more sadness listen to Chasing Cars (yeah I cry to that song 99% of the time sorry))

One day..

With a grumble, he adjusted to the sudden shift of your body weight, to where you were essentially laying over him, and out of pure habit he wrapped his arm over the small of your back- only for you to whisper a soft ‘sorry’ before standing up all the way. Which caused him to think, it was a Saturday and there weren’t any Ops he had been assigned, so there was no purpose in waking up before the sun. So with a tilt of the head, he moves to sit up, watching as you tug out the duffle bag from the couch.

Maybe when the war is over…

“Love?”

You almost jump as your fiance calls the nickname and you turn around, giving him a little smile, “Good morning.”

Simon gives you a look as he turns on the lamp and watches your mannerisms, the timidness behind every movement, “Wha’s goin on?” A valid question, what had happened was that you and Johnny were assigned to what Price lightly put as a ‘suicide mission,’ and what you didn’t want to happen was for Simon to force then add himself to it- as it would then decrease your chances of survival by that much. So you falter for a moment, trying to avert your gaze. With a panicked breath you motion to the kitchenette, “I’ll make tea! Oh! And let’s use the special type, the one we got from Inida? Yeah! Yeah-”

Of course, the echoed whisper of your name made you stop your walk and you slowly turned to face him, your face downturned, you were an awful lair, you were never sent to integrations because you hated to see people hurt. And it killed you to see him searching for an answer, to see him scared for your sake- and for the great and terrifying Simon Riley…that was saying something.

Once the smoke settles…

“You’re not going.”

“It doesn’t-” You groan and throw your head into your hands, “It doesn’t work like that, you know that.”

“No, you’re not going, ‘ll take the spot,” He was grasping at broken shards of sense because he knew the choice was set in stone that not even a sword made of the purest of intentions couldn’t crack it. “Let me talk to-”

“SIMON.”

You take a sharp breath and look at him from across the room, by that time you were fully dressed, hair tied back, boots laced up. Engangment ring which was supposed to be switched out in less than a week hanging onto your dog tags. It took a moment to find the words but they were able to come after a moment, “There is no talking to Laswell or the Captain, there is no loophole, there is no replacing, there is nothing you can do. I have it covered. I do not need you to come and save me when I can save myself.”

Maybe once we got ourselves picked up…

The silence was stiff, and he then finally relented, slowly walking over to you, tucking the tags into your shirt, voice hushed, “Johnny ‘ll take care of ya.”

“I did…I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” He pressed his lip to the crown of your head, “Jus lemme think I can save you from everythin.”

You stay silent, then with a short step you move to allow him to hold you, “You can.”

We can move somewhere far away, within the groves of tranquility …

You give Johnny a dull laugh as you walk down the rusted corridor, his laugh echoing through your earpiece. It was nice, laughing for what felt like the first time in forty or so hours, the mission was not even close to being finished and you were already running on steam. So obviously it was time for some lame jokes, “As much as fireworks sound fun, I don’t think I want that in my wedding.”

“Gah,” He chuckled from his spot, waiting for you to clear the hallway so he could follow, “Ghosty woulda lemme.”

“Oh yeah, Ghost would have loved it,” You return with a bitten-back laugh, and then turn the corner, leading with your gun, eyes looking over the blood splatters on the ground and you then whisper, “Clear.”

Before you could even blink the hiss of a gunshot hissed into your earpiece burning with such a pain you had to rip it out, hand going to your ear.

With a staggering step to catch your balance and blink the tears out of your eyes you were then met with a gun being shoved to the back of your head.

You never thought blinding light could hold such peace.

I would prefer our home to not be the shadows cast by the towering and rickety oaks, rather it be in the sun, lightened by new lives we could live

The carrier came back with supplies, no saved hostage, just two bodies left mangled by the enemy no captain even- the craft had been on autopilot.

A message, a warning left within that metal body.

The silence as the door swung itself open. They had all seen death, they had seen things no human should have seen.

There was something about the sight of their teammates laying tossed on the floor of an aircraft that made Kyle turn away

That made Price need a day before he filed the paperwork.

Something about it ruined Simon.

A large house ideally, so that way we can have as many kids and dogs as we want, something to usher in a new meaning behind our names

Silence is what he use to hold peace in, yet all he could hear when there was silence was the what-ifs, did you scream? Was it quick? Did it hurt? Why didn’t he go? Why did he let it happen?

That day he lost the only people he had loved and it was cursing him, bottles couldn’t cure it, opioids didn’t numb more than he had already been, nothing was saving him. He summed that up by saying maybe he didn’t deserve saving.

A garden, lively with bees and colorful with every flower I can manage to grow,

He couldn’t bring himself to go through your things, he was the next of kin, as for Johnny- all of his things had been shipped back to his family, yours? They sat where you had left them that morning you left, your notebook collecting desk on the coffee table, mug still half-filled with water. Lipstick stain still on his balaclava from the last time he took you out on a proper date.

In a drunken stupor, he grabbed the notebook, for the intention of tossing it away, forcing himself to forget every tiny detail of what was. But something told him to open up the pages, so for a millionth of a second he did, yet the sight of your handwriting which you would jokingly name ‘chicken scratch’ forever ingrained on the pages caused something in him to break all over again.

A porch where we can dance in the moonlight

“Riley.” John seemed shocked by the sight of the former lieutenant on his doorstep, sure he had offered ‘anything’ after the deaths, yet he never expected for Simon to take him up on it. For the first time in two years, for the first time since he had to discharge him, he saw what he thought was a completely sober man before him.

It was taking every ounce of Simon to not just turn away, to say it was a bad idea and run, run away from the emotions, but he was going to this…he had to. “You wanna build a house?”

A library so I can put all of those books you bought me, somewhere we can escape the haunting reality of the past

A year, he and John spent a year of work on the house once Simon found the perfect lot of land not too far out of London. Weekends spent from morning to dusk, John’s kids helping when they were in town and Eliza, John’s wife, coming by with food and to do the painting. The foundation has your name forever printed within it.

All of it sounds so poetic when I scribble them down, but the reality is as long as I have your love I am home

A garden he tended every morning and dusk to make sure they were perfectly planted, large enough to where the neighbors would come by to pick bouquets. He would watch the child run through the stone pathways, wondering what could have been.

The library was filled with novels he swore to collect, writing your name as the owner as he placed them in the rows of the shelving he took careful time carving.

I will love you forever and always, Ghost-boy

“You built a good home,” Kyle had told him, close to ten years after all of it had happened, sitting beside him on the porch. He knew it was probably the only thing that kept him alive this long, so he was thankful for it.

Simon nodded slowly, “Thank you.”

(annnyway, that’s all! Any and all comments, feedback and all that mean so much! Thanks for the ask!! <3)

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men act in and after a fight

Pairing: Gojo x reader, Megumi x reader, Nanami x reader

Word Count: 4,1k (a big baby)

Warnings: obviously hurt in every part but also a loooot of fluff, Megumi being as inexperienced as he is lol, Nanami's part is pure fan service, you're very welcome

Notes: I consider writing part ll of that with Choso, Geto and maybe Toji. If you're down for that, just leave me a comment or a like <3 as always thank y'all from the bottom of my heart for the love and support you give me, I truly don't deserve it <3

Part ll with Geto, Choso and Yuji can be found here

Tags: @ifuckfictionalmen @sanicsmut

Gojo Satoru

“So you think I’m being ridiculous? I saw the way she looked at you and how her hand brushed against yours way too often”, you hiss, whole body trembling in pure rage.

“Oh, so every woman that touches me is apparently into me, now I get it”, he sarcastically remarks.

You bite your tongue, desperately trying to stop yourself from crying. Why is he not able to understand that you don’t feel comfortable with that situation at all? You told him over and over, especially when she completely ignored your presence on your first meeting. How does he not see all of this?

“You…You transferred money to her. A lot, actually. And all of that after she completely ignored me when you introduced me”

“Just like I do for you-“

“I’m your wife, moron!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

Satoru’s face is twisted in annoyance. He thought he’d come home to your loving arms, cuddling on the couch after a stressful day. But this? You stormed into him the second he opened the door, holding up bank statements. Over the past weeks, this happened way too often, interrupting your otherwise very peaceful marriage in a way Satoru can’t take any longer.

“So what? We’re colleagues, (y/n). You are my wife, why don’t you get that I am forced to work with other women from time to time?”, he questions.

The way he rolls his blue orbs at you sends you over the edge completely.

“So colleagues transfer money, hold deep eye contact and touch each other oh so casually when having a conversation? Don’t fuck with me, Satoru. I told you over and over that it bugs me, that I’m concerned. And you do absolutely nothing about it.”

“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a bitch!”, he cries out in frustration.

Your heart sinks immediately when is words hit you with full force. Even though your relationship with Satoru does get pretty heated from time to time, he never called you names. Never.

Not until now, when it comes to that woman.

You need to get off his sight, away from his stinging presence. Without saying another word, you storm into your shared bedroom and lock the door behind you before he’s able to follow you.

“Maybe if you’d stop acting like a bitch!”

His stinging words repeat themselves over and over in your head while you can’t hold back your tears any longer. This is so unfair. Why is he too blind to see the way she hunts after him, that she wants him to be more than a simple colleague? All you want him is to understand how uncomfortable this situation is for you, that you feel somehow betrayed.

“Open the door, (y/n)”, his clear voice is heard from behind the door.

Satoru knew he overdid it the second he saw the devastated look on your face. No matter how ridiculous this whole topic is, you don’t deserve his anger towards you. Mei isn’t more than a colleague for him though, a woman he has worked with on missions for years. She surely doesn’t like him like that, it’s simply impossible-

His phone vibrates in his pants, making him take a look at the screen.

What do you think about dinner tonight? Just the two of us.

He signs at her message, realization hitting him like a wall. Fuck, what did he do? The countless times her touch brushed over him, the messages she sent him not work related at all every night and how she always avoided the conversation when it came to you flood his mind uncontrollably. How could he make you feel this way? You told him over and over that you feel uncomfortable with this situation, asked him for compromises. And now…

Now he made you feel unwanted, delusional and dumb. You are his wife, the love of his life, the one thing that keeps him going in this world full of madness.

“Can you let me in, (y/n)? I’m sorry…”, he hushes against the closed door.

You can’t catch your breath, dry sobs hunt your body down when a new wave of sorrow washes over you. Does he even love you? All this time you thought you were the love of his life, his pride. But now…It feels like he chose that woman over you, that he cares about her opinion and feelings more than yours.

“I’m coming in”, he softly announces.

Of course, a simple closed door can’t keep him out if he doesn’t want to.

The second he lays his eyes on your crumpled on the floor figure, his heart completely breaks. Instantly, he kneels down in front of you and embraces you in his arms while your sobs make him hate himself even more.

“I’m so unbelievable sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean it like that at all. It’s just that in my world, there’s only you and no one else. I never understood how you even get the idea of me liking another woman because this scenario is ridiculous to me. I shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that. I’m so so sorry…”, he mumbles against your ear.

Despite his words still haunt your mind, you can’t help but let yourself fall at least a little into his inviting arms, tears staining his uniform.

“I will talk to her and make clear that you are the one and only for me, I promise.”

It’s impossible to stay mad at him for long. You wrap your longing arms around him, forehead pressed against his.

“So you understand my point?”, you mutter.

“I do and I’m sorry for making you feel this way. You are the only woman in my life and I love you more than anything else”, he reassures you once again.

You definitely won’t get him away this easily. After all, words mean nothing without action. But this is a step in the right direction and for now, you can definitely live with that.

“Now, please stop crying, I’ll call her right away and we’ll watch your favorite show and order some food after, what do you think?”

“Only if you pay”, you sniff.

Megumi Fushiguro

“Oh, where are you going?”, you question when your boyfriend Megumi gets up from the bed so early in the morning that it’s still dark outside.

The last few weeks were like a trip to hell and back, it seems like your relationship consists of Megumi going on missions while you have to stay behind. Before this night, you haven’t seen him for one whole week and while you do understand his responsibly as a jujutsu sorcerer, you can’t help but feel hurt.

“On a mission of course”, he remarks dryly.

Your eyes begin to burn as your heart sinks. It’s like you don’t know him anymore, as if he’s only the shell of the man you used to love. Is he so sick of you that he doesn’t want to spend a single day on your side? Is all of this on purpose? You can’t hold back any longer.

“You’re always leaving me”, you blurt out.

It shouldn’t bother you. After all, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer yourself. Despite being Shoko’s trainee you should be aware of the fact that this job is a mess and means you have to dedicate your whole life to it.

But still you can’t help but fell hurt. Hurt because your boyfriend doesn’t even smile anymore when he returns, hurt because he comes and goes without saying a word, hurt because you feel like you lost him.

“What was that?”, he grumbles.

“Do you think I do this on purpose?”

“I just feel like you’re never here. And I miss you.”

“Not all of us have an easy job like you, (y/n).”

You swallow hard. Wow, that is new. And extremely painful. Even though you aren’t out there fighting, you still have a lot to do, working your ass off so everyone survives, day and night ready if something happens. This is just not fair.

“You think my job is easy? Stitch yourself up next time, then”, you hiss and cross your arms over your chest.

“Don’t come at me. You started this whole thing!”

“Yeah, I ‘started this whole thing’ because you are my boyfriend and I love you, and I…I fucking miss you! But fine, if you don’t feel the same I’ll just leave.”

It’s ridiculous and you know it, mind screaming violently, begging you to stay. But your heart can’t. This was simply too much. You can’t stay here with a boy that treats you like this.

“If you leave now-“

“Then what?”, you interrupt him immediately, cold eyes glaring at him while your hand rests on the door.

“You’ll leave? You leave every time, Megumi. See you around…Or not.”

And with that, you leave him standing in his room alone, staring at the door like an idiot. What the hell has gotten into you? Since when are you acting up like that? He doesn’t know you like that. But still, your words do make him wonder if you’re somehow right…

He shakes his head violently. No, you’re being ridiculous. Maybe you need to sleep in and you’ll figure this out as soon as he returns.

But one things for sure: Megumi definitely won’t make the first move.

And so days pass until finally weeks begin to pass without both of you saying a single word to each other. Every time you see him you feel like dying inside, heart screaming at you in agony to stop your stubbornness, to approach him and say sorry. But you can’t. You simply can’t over the fact that he let you go like that, not even looking your direction when you cross each other. It’s like he doesn’t know you anymore despite all the nights you shared with each other, despite the intimate moments you’ve had.

No, it seems like he doesn’t care at all.

“Hey (y/n)!”, Nobara greets you.

“Hey, I’m in a bit of a rush”, you explain briefly, already on your way to assist Shoko in an autopsy of a curse.

“It’s just…(y/n), are you and Megumi okay?”, Nobara mutters, her face twisted in concern like you’ve never seen before.

You stop in your tracks, a new wave of grief washing over you. No, nothing is okay, absolutely nothing to be exact. You want to scream it into her face, break down crying, let all your feelings out. But instead, you just gift her an empty smile and say:

“Sure.”

‘Sure’ as if he never raised his voice at you, ‘sure’ as if Megumi would care about you feeling lonely and missing him, ‘sure’ as if you actually meant something to him

“I mean it’s none of my business but…You guys haven’t talk for what feels like an eternity, you are no longer there and I’m just worried that he messed things up with you, y’know…Well, let me know if I can help you with something, okay?”

She gently places her hand on your shoulder while you have to force yourself to not shed a tear. Oh, if she only knew. If she only knew that the last weeks were absolute hell, that you feel like dying inside. But this is something you and Megumi have to deal with alone. Even Nobara can’t help you with that.

You say goodbye to her and walk towards the laboratory, tears still stinging threatening in your eyes. How much you long for talking to him, to tell him how much his words really hurt you. But you can’t bring yourself to make the first step. After all, you tried to talk this out multiple times only for him to not even listen. No, this time he’ll have to make the first move if he wants you back.

If…

“(y/n).”

That voice. That oh so familiar voice that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Megumi”, you breathe out, slowly turning around to face him.

There he stands, scratching his head while looking at your feet, eyes not meeting your gaze.

“How…how you’ve been?”

Even a blind man would see the blush creeping up his face…Is he embarrassed? Painfully awkward silence hangs between you two as all you can do is stare at him, your blood slowly but surely boiling up. Is he really asking you how you’ve been after not talking to you for weeks, ignoring you every time he saw you?

“You have some fucking nerves”, you spit at him, closing the gap between you two with a rushed movement.

“You’re not talking with me for weeks and now you’re asking how I’ve been? I’ve been miserable, Megumi. I felt like dying every time you ignored me!”

Fuck, don’t cry. Don’t let him see how you really feel. Your trembling hands frantically wipe away the threatening tears, eyes darted towards him.

“I just couldn’t, (y/n). It’s just…I…”, he stumbles over his very own words, fingers over and over running through his hair.

“I was able to see it until I thought about it. I’ve been a horrible boyfriend, (y/n). So horrible that I thought you’d be better off without me. But I’m simply too selfish to let you go. I’m sorry for not making time for you, I’m sorry for treating you like shit, I’m sorry for making you feel like I didn’t love you when in reality, all I was able to think about was you and how much I missed you sleeping besides me”, he suddenly blurts out, leaving you completely speechless.

This is everything. Everything you longed for, ever single word you graved so deeply. Did this thick silence really change the way he sees your relationship now? A look into his sorrow – filled eyes is enough to realize that he’s telling the truth, making your heart jump up and down.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because I know I’m not the boy you deserve and I’d fully understand if you’re having enough of me. I just wanted to let you know that I can see it now and that I want to give you what you deserve if you let me.”

The glistening in his eyes literally begs you for a second chance while your very own heart screams at you. Of course you want him back, Megumi is everything you ever wanted. But he’ll have to show that it’s really different this time.

“Promise me something”, you announce.

He tilts his head to his side, brows furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll stay with me today, that we’ll spend time together. No mission, no obligations.”

“I’ll stay as long as you need, as long as you want me around, (y/n). This time without you hurt like hell, I simply don’t want to let you go again”, he hushes, his tender fingertips brushing over your arms.

“That sounds good…”, you mutter, resting your head against his chest.

God, how much you missed that feeling. Even though your relationship had its ups and downs, you always admired the way Megumi was able to calm you down in an instant with a simple touch of his hand.

Maybe you will figure it out now. And maybe him not having time for you stays in the past forever.

Kento Nanami

“Fuck”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

You’re on your way home after a pretty ugly mission. And even though Shoko already stitched you up, you feel like dying. Everything just hurts, it’s hard to even walk.

The thought of your husband at home makes your guts turn. Not because you don’t love him or aren’t longing to see him, but because of your recent conversation.

“It can’t go on like this, (y/n). You’re always injured and it’s starting to concern me. Maybe I have to talk t-“

“No”, you interrupted him immediately.

“Please don’t. I’ll be careful from now on. I promise.”

“Fine. But if this happens again, I’ll have a talk with the elders.”

And it happened again. All these missions one after another really took their toll on your concentration. One moment of unwariness was enough to sweep you off your feet, thigh sliced open in the nastiest way you’ve ever seen. Shoko told you it will take some time to heal entirely, but if Kento gets to see this…

“Maybe I should call Nanami to pick you up. You really can’t walk like that (y/n).”

“No, please don’t!”, you begged Shoko for dear life.

“I don’t want this to cause trouble. It’s fine, really!”

“You almost died, (y/n)”, she remembered you dryly.

“And I will definitely die if you tell him. Please Shoko.”

She signed.

“Fine. Just be careful and visit me tomorrow…”

You swallow. A fight seems inevitable if you won’t hide your wound from him.

You take a deep breath, keys trembling in your sweaty palms. Fuck, why does this have to ache so badly? Shoko gave so some pain killers, you shouldn’t feel a single thing.

No, focus. Pain is only in your head. But Kento is very real.

With one last stolen glance at your injured leg you open the door, forcing a smile on your face. Where is he? Your heart beats out of your chest, hands so sweaty that you have to wipe them on your coat.

“Kento?”, you shout into the quiet living room, closing the door behind you gently.

“There you are, sweetheart”, his voice coos out of the bedroom.

Your breath hitches, eyes wide open at the sight in front of you. There he stands, your loving husband. Dressed in nothing but his pants, bare chest immediately captivating you. Oh god, he looks so delicious that you feel like fainting, hungry eyes roaming over his tight muscles as if you haven’t seen him like that hundreds of times before.

“Where have you been? A mission like that shouldn’t take this long.”

He begins to approach you elegantly, staring at you with a small smile on his delicate lips.

“Y-yeah…Still had something to…y’know…say…to Shoko”, you stutter.

Why does he have to look so absolutely delicious? And why does your leg suddenly feel so…wet?

“Are you alright? You seem a little unfocused today. Did you get hurt?”

His eyes scan over your body without any mercy, forcing you to hide your leg behind the other.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine”, you press out.

No, you’re anything but fine. The way your other leg brushes against your injured one makes you see stars. You feel like fainting and throwing up at the same time, sweat running down your forehead uncontrollably. You need medication – now.

“I planned something very excited for us today. Something you might like”, he purrs, closing the distance between your bodies.

His hand grabs your waist passionately while your mixed emotions take your breath away. God, how much you love the way his arms wrap themselves around you, knowing exactly that this leads you directly into the bedroom.

But that means…

“Oh yeah?”, you chuckle nervously.

That means he’ll see the wound you’re so desperately trying to hide.

“Absolutely”, he breathes against your ear.

Oh god, this is so good…No, it’s not good at all. You need to get away from him, out of this misery, into t-

A toe-curling scream escapes your lips before you even realize what is happening, body stumbling backwards.

“(y/n)!”, Nanami mutters, eyes wide open.

He squeezed your leg like he always does and just the way you like it. Why on earth are you acting like that? That haunted look on your face almost makes it seem as if he hurt you.

Lost in thoughts, he looks down at his hand.

His blood-smeared hand.

It slowly dawns to him. No, it isn’t because he did something you don’t like. It’s because you’re injured again. And you decided to lie into his face about it.

“What is this?”

Your husband’s voice sounds as unpromising as you imagined it in this situation, eyes widen in horror while you’re still panting in agony.

Fuck. Your heart drops immediately by the sight of his blood smeared hand. Kento is an outstanding smart man, too clever to be considered an idiot by your actions.

“You promised me to stay safe. And that you lie to be about being injured...”

“(y/n), look at me”, he insists, grabbing your chin.

His eyes seem to stare right through your soul as he glances down at you, jaw tightened.

“I can’t believe you lied to me.”

“Only because you’d freak out”, you reply in your own defense.

“Like I should! I told you over and over to look out for yourself, to skip a few missions before you get seriously hurt. And what is that, huh?”

He points at your wounded leg, blood now soaking through the fabric of your skirt.

“You are severely injured. Just like I predicted.”

You feel like a child being scolded by her parents. Even though Kento never raises his voice at you aggressively, you can tell by the way his whole body tenses up and that glistening in his gaze that he’s absolutely furious.

“I am able to look after myself. I know what’s best for me”, you remark annoyed.

Fuck, you’re so damn tired. All you want is to bandage yourself up and go to sleep.

“Yes, I can see that.”

Something about his sarcastic tone and the way he stares down at you while shaking his head makes you snap.

“I’m a grown woman, I don’t need you to look after me like a damn child! Mind your own business, Kento!”

“You are my business. You are my wife. It’s my responsibility to take care of you!”, he barks back.

“But I don’t want you to take care of me, I want you to leave me alone!”, you spit into his face, making him drop his shoulders immediately.

God, you want to take that back straightaway, knowing damn well how your comment hurt his feelings. But at the moment, all you can think about is a warm bed and finally some rest.

You drag yourself into the bedroom and let your trembling body fall onto the mattress. This is not fair, right? After all, you aren’t a child anymore, you are able to look after yourself…right?

You close your eyes, the disappointed look on Kento’s face lingering through your mind. It wasn’t fair to snap at him, though. He is your husband, always caring about you. No, he certainly doesn’t deserve you to treat him like this.

Three soft knocks on the door.

“Can I come in?”, his damped voice questions.

“Sure”, you mumble.

You can’t even look at him when he enters the room in silence, elegant steps leading him to the bed where he sits down next to you. Suddenly, he begins to rip open a package of bandages, catching your attention.

“What are you doing?”

“I take care of you. May I?”

His gaze wanders to your skirt, eyes asking you for permission to pull it up.

“Sure…”, you mutter, a slight blush creeping up your face when his fingers brush over your panties.

“How did this happen?”, he asks softly while his skilled fingers remove the blood soaked bandage.

“I don’t know exactly. Wasn’t paying full attention and got hit by a curse.”

“I see.”

Despite all the things you said to him, despite the way you hurt him a few minutes ago, your man kneels in front of you and caresses your wound with so much affection that it doesn’t hurt at all. Your eyes wander over him, how his gaze is focused exclusively on your thigh, skilled fingers working wonders.

“I’m sorry for lashing out and not telling you”, you let out, not able to hold in your bad conscience any longer.

“I understand that I put you in an uncomfortable position when I threatened to talk to the elders about this and I’m very sorry for that. But it can’t go on like this, (y/n). This is the 5th serious injury within three weeks and I’m truly worried about you. I don’t want you to end like-“

He stops himself from finishing that sentence but oh you know exactly what he means and it shatters your heart. Without hesitation, your fingers grab his face gently, eyes locking with yours.

“I love you, Kento. And I see that you’re right. I’ll talk to the elders tomorrow myself about that”, you assure him.

A small but precious smile appears on his face, free hand caressing your cheek with so much affection that you have to hold back a tear.

“You’re my everything, sweetheart. Let’s stitch you up and go to bed.”

[raticalshoez]

Solace for the Lonely

This was an AU idea I had just aptly named "Life Series Therapy Session" where it stemmed from a stupid headcanon that after a while, Grian started to feel bad for how the games were taking a toll on his friends so instead of being an eldritch horror he uses Watcher like abilities to like.....make therapy for his friends???

Joel was his guinea pig.

Basically the premise for Joel's session was he had to find closure in his past as one of the lonelier members by helping other members who were cursed with loneliness in other life series' and help them come to terms with things.

With LL!Scar, Joel is a bit awkward because it's the first person he's conversing with so there's this sorta of whiplash and this season was the one where him going red left them both alone.

Scar is also shocked at the sight of a Joel who isn't mental, and given Scar's track record in later seasons of unfaithful soulmates and forced villainy, Joel finds him the hardest to comfort.

He opts for telling him that one day he'll meet people he can call family, hinting towards the Clockers, but never outright saying it. He thinks back on his time with the Bad Boys, and his unwavering loyalty to them. He thinks the season might've been a step towards a less solitary life for them both.

When he sees DL!Pearl is his next "client," he's much more confident. He's teamed with Pearl at this point, and he knows that she will not have to suffer her Double Life fate again.

He has to tiptoe around specifically mentioning the Mounders and the fact that they are a group that forms because he doesn't want the Butterfly Effect to take place. Being as vague as possible, he assures Pearl that one day she will find people to be devoted to again (even if he does leave out the part about them all dying before her...for her own wellbeing).

Pearl is naturally skeptical. She's been isolated on this server that's meant to be about love and in this world where DL!Joel is purposefully antagonistic, here he is uncharacteristically telling her everything will turn out okay in the vaguest nature possible. And she's just expected to believe that?

Even so, as he walks away, she can't help but feel a little more hopeful.

The last person Joel encounters is SL!Lizzie, and this one stings a bit more. Joel knows Lizzie's fate in this world, and it's not pretty for her. Lizzie didn't particularly have a happy story in Last Life either, so something about this is extra unfortunate.

Joel just goes straight in and tells her that he will always be there for her because that is the full truth and he knows Lizzie needs to hear it. Maybe not at this point; maybe at this point SL!Lizzie is completely content and nothing particularly bad has happened to her, and she's wondering why her husband is at her doorstep looking so sympathetic.

But when Joel remembers a certain party, and the way he was still attacked even after being her sole supporter, he feels he has to comfort her, and tell her that he loves her, and somehow make it so her cold and lonely death in the end doesn't feel so bitter after this is all done.

[calumsrockstar]

Bunny - Ashton Irwin

a/n: DADDY ISSUES NATION RISE! This is my longest fic until now, and it´s inspired by @rip-quizilla.

word count: 3k

Where you find a mysterious hot neighbor.

Contents: MAJOR AGE GAP (reader is 19 and Ash is 44), perv!ash, spanking, pet names, praise, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m recieving) masturbation (f and m), corruption kink, daddy kink

Older!Ash x Reader

You entered your brand new house, it was small, but spacious considering it was your first. Your mom and your dad finally let you move out, giving you all the privacy you needed.

For the first month everything was normal, until you heard almost every mom in the neighborhood talk about a handsome and mysterious Mr. Irwin. Only to notice that he was living right next to you.

You were curious, since moving to the neighborhood, you´ve never seen what he looked like, your window was right opposite his, but he always kept the curtain closed.

Adjusting yourself, you looked at the mirror and flattened your yellow sundress. It was a hot summer day, and what better way to quench your thirst than to deliver lemonade to your supposedly hot neighbor?

You opened the fridge to get a large jug of your homemade lemonade, and left the house, leaving the front door unlocked.

Walking to his house, you took deep breaths, and knocked on the door. Now you wait.....

A tall man opened the door, looking to be in his 20s. His light brown hair looked soft and curly. his skin sunkissed. "Hi there." He smiled. Making you forget why you were there.

Holy shit.

"Um-hi." You smiled. "I moved here a month ago and I ́ve never said hello, I decided to bring you some lemonade. Some friendly neighbor activity." You chuckled.

He looked you up and down, basically devouring you with his eyes. "That's awfully kind of you." You detected some kind of accent. "It 's no problem." You replied.

"Sorry if this is too direct but, how come i´ve never seen you before?" You asked him. "At my age, I don't go out of my house much honey, I like to read, play music." You raised an eyebrow. "Your age? Like 25?"

He let out a throaty laugh. "You flatter me." Making you smile. "How old are you?" You asked. "If you don't mind me asking of course." He grinned. "Guess."

"28?" He shook his head no. "30?" He shook his head no again. "35?" You asked, hoping you didn't say he was too old. "More." He grinned. "No fucking way." You replied. "40?" He clicked his tongue. "You're getting closer." Your mouth was practically on the floor. "I´m 44, sweetheart."

"What? That's insane." You smiled. "You definitely don't look or act 44." You said. "Hey, how is a 44 year old supposed to act?" He chuckled. "I don´t know, smoking cigars on your front porch, maybe?" You smiled. "I´m young at heart, you know." He leaned down to talk to you.

"How old are you, little lady?" He grinned. "I'm 19." He widened his hazel eyes. "19, wow. Basically a baby." You fake pouted. "I'm not a baby." You smiled, teasingly. "You are to me." He replied. You frowned. Did he actually think of you as a kid?

"What´s a young girl like you doing living all by herself?" He asked. "I just moved out, I wanted some privacy." You replied, making him raise an eyebrow. "Privacy, huh? You sure you´re not gonna throw any parties?"

You laughed. "That's not what all kids do these days, by the way. Maybe in your time, Mr. Irwin." You put your hand on your forehead. "That was rude, i´m sorry." He laughed. "How do you know my last name?" He smiled.

You turned pink. "Well, you must know that women talk about you." He raised an eyebrow. "Do they?" He chuckled. "Yeah, all the time." You replied.

"Can you tell me what they say?" He smiled, making you turn an even deeper shade of red. "Well, they all say you're really handsome and stuff... And how they wonder if you have a wife." You smiled. "No, I don't have one, sweetheart." He grinned.

Oh god yes.

"Oh, that's good to know. I mean, that's cool." You stuttered. Making him chuckle. "Well, I guess I´ll see you around, Mr. Irwin." You said turning your back. "Please, call me Ashton." He blurted out. "What's your name?" He asked. "It´s y/n." You smiled. "Nice to meet you y/n." I hope to see you soon." You looked over your shoulder and nodded.

When you turned around, Ashton couldn't help but look at your ass. It was sculpted and it drove him crazy. He could tell you were definitely trouble.

Ashton closed the door, and smiled. You were the only thing he could think of for hours. He wanted to get to know you, to know what your interests were, your life. He already was utterly obsessed. He felt like a teenager again, with hormones blossoming inside of him.

You were sweet and innocent, like a bunny. Something deep inside him wanted to ruin you.

You could not help thinking of him too. His tattooed arms, his curly hair, how his tank top hugged every place of him. How his shorts were tight around his bulge.

Shit. You wanted to fuck your 44 year old neighbor.

Ashton let his curiosity get the best of him. He finally opened his office window, to see if he could peek inside your house. Fortunately for him, this was the window directly opposite your bedroom.

After a long day, you decided to go to your bedroom to relax. Kicking off your shoes and getting out of your sundress. It was hot, so you absentmindedly left your bedroom window open, not knowing you had a spectator.

"Holy fuck." Ashton thought, his jaw was on the ground. You were wearing a lacy pink underwear set. The dim lighting in your room made you look ethereal.

Ashton was getting harder by the second. He knew this was wrong. Spying on his innocent little neighbor. But at this moment, he could care less.

You took off your bra, slowly. Ashton watched your breasts slip out of them, he thought he was dreaming. You were the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

You reached in your bedroom drawer and found a pretty pink vibrator that you've stashed there. You laid down, tracing circles over your panties with the vibrator, letting out little whimpers.

"No fucking way." Ashton mouthed. He couldn't take it anymore. He took his cock out of his pants, bubbling with pre-cum. He felt like a pervert, but this turned him on even more.

Little y/n wasn't as innocent as he thought.

Taking off your panties, your pussy was on full display. Making Ashton´s mouth water.

You pressed the vibrator on your clit while you inserted two fingers inside of yourself, curling them. The shock made your back lift off the mattress, with a moan so loud you were sure your neighbor could hear.

All you wanted was Ashton. You wished his fingers were inside of you, you wished he was fucking you.

Ashton started to rub himself, watching intently. So what if you saw? He thought. His cock was throbbing, he was desperate to be inside you. Every muscle in his body ached for you.

You started to squirm, your clit throbbing with pulsing sensations that made you convulse in bed. While Ashton was shivering. This is the most turned on he´s been ever.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You moaned while you bit your lip, feeling that familiar feeling in your stomach. Ashton started fucking his fist, harder and faster.

"Fuck! Ashton!" You screamed when you came. Putting your hand to your mouth when you realized what you said. At the same time, Ashton came all over his hand, panting hard. His curls were sticking to his forehead.

Did she just say my name? She couldn't have.

-----

In the morning you decided to lounge by the pool, and get some sun. You put on your favorite blue bikini and put your hair in a bun and headed out to the garden.

You opened up the door to your yard, secretly hoping a certain hazel eyed man would stumble in.

Sitting on a lounge chair, looking at your phone you noticed a tall figure looking down at you.

"Fuckin´ hot today, eh?" It was Ashton. A shirtless Ashton. Looking you up and down with no shame. "Good morning Mr. Irwin." You smiled. "You're finally out of the house." You added. "I wanted to see you, darling." He replied. Your mouth turned dry.

"You wanted to see me?" You repeated, making him smile. "Why do you want this old man out of your garden?" He chuckled, making you giggle. "Nah, c´mere." You told him, making a "Come hither" motion with your finger.

Just to think those were the fingers that were inside you last night made him shiver.

You tucked your legs in and motioned for him to sit at the tip of the lounging chair. When he sat, you spread your legs to fit around his thighs.

The only thing separating your pussy from his back was a flimsy piece of fabric.

"So, where are you from?" You asked him. "I´m originally from Australia, but I moved here a few years ago." You nodded. "Why´d you move?" You asked, picking at his sunburnt shoulders. "I think I just wanted to move on with my life, start a new chapter." He looked back at you and smiled. "Fair enough." You smiled back.

"I haven't noticed your tattoos." You said, stroking your hands on his arm. "Yeah got a few of them, love, years of experience." He smiled. "This one's my favorite." You pointed at his snake tattoo on his bicep. "It's one of my favorites too."

"Do you have any more tattoos?" You asked, rubbing both of his thighs. "y/n..." He melted into your touch. "I'm just asking." You grinned, placing a kiss on his neck. "Jesus Christ." He chuckled in between shallow breaths. "Are you sure?" He asked. You muttered an "mhm."

"I´ve seen you eye fucking me, Ashton, when we first met, when I was taking out the trash, right back then..."

He stood up, turned to face you, and sat back down."Dirty girl... When I was in college you weren't even born yet." You shrugged your shoulders, smiling. You could feel a wet patch growing in your bikini bottoms.

"I was touching myself thinking of you last night." You whispered, making him grin. "Me too." He chuckled. "You just looked so pretty yesterday... Your window was open." Your mouth dropped. "You perv!" You smiled. "Hey, you´re the one touching yourself thinking of an old man fucking you." He grinned.

"You looked so cute squirming, bunny." This sent shivers down your spine.

"Please kiss me." You pleaded. He wasted no time. He held your face with his two hands and kissed you, the kiss was fervent, urgent. Your tongues battling between each other, barely giving you space to breathe.

"Do anything you want to me, Ashton." You told him. "Anything?" He asked. "Anything." You smiled. "That´s a very bold claim to make." "I mean it." You smirked.

"Stand up." He ordered, doing the same as you. "You brought this upon yourself." He smiled, as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, making you scream and giggle.

He unlocked his front door and carried you inside. You observed three guitars and a huge drumset in his living room, complete with 10 pairs of drumming sticks.

He placed you on the couch that was big enough to fit four people, putting enough force for you to land with an "oomph."

"You look so cute, babygirl." He smiled, making you blush. You decided to make a risky move. "Thank you, daddy." You replied, waiting for his response.

You could see his eyes visibly darken, and his mouth turned into a grin. "Holy fuck, y/n." He smiled. "Want me to be your daddy?" He asked you. You could only mutter an "mhm." Your clit was throbbing, practically begging to be touched.

He trailed a finger through your bikini bottoms, making your whole body shiver. "So wet for me, and I haven't even touched you, bunny." He whispered in your ear. "Please, Ashton." You mewled.

He tugged at the strings of your bikini top and undid them. "You have such perfect tits, princess." He said, while fondling them. Placing his mouth on one and nipping at it, making you whimper. "So sensitive, too." He smiled.

Kneeling in front of you on the couch, he tugged on your bikini bottoms taking them off. You clenched your legs together, by instinct, blushing. "No need to be shy, princess." He smiled, gently pushing your legs apart and peppering little kisses on the inside of your thighs.

"Such a pretty pussy." He cooed. "Fuckin´ perfect."

He kitten licked your clit, making you let out a breathy moan. He looked up at you, waiting for your approval. You nodded and smiled, making him grin.

He grabbed your lower back with his big hands and pulled you closer to his face, making you gasp.

His pupils were blown out with lust. Dipping down to face your sex. Without warning, he dives in and you feel him licking a long strip between your wet folds.

"Fuck! Ashton." You exclaim, grabbing his curls and digging your fingers into his scalp. He winced at the pain, but he definitely enjoyed this.

You grind against his mouth, while his tongue draws circles around your clit. Throwing your head back into the couch, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

The sensation was almost too much. His eyes never left you, enjoying the sight of you convulsing on the couch. Your pretty moans were like music to his ears.

He licks faster and faster. Groaning inside of you. "I'm getting- I'm getting close." You said in between shallow breaths. He starts sucking on your clit harshly, the sounds were borderline sinful.

You felt a tightness inside your stomach, like a cord waiting to snap. "Don´t stop, please." You mewled.

Your orgasm washes over you, making your whole body shake, clenching your walls around Ashton´s tongue. "Oh my God." You smiled.

Ashton surfaced, his lips were puffy and his mouth was covered in your slick. "Hi." You giggled. "Hi." He repeated, smiling. You covered your face with your hands, and blushed.

"Can I taste you?" You asked. "I-um, fuck yes." He stuttered. "Yeah, you can taste me."

He takes off his shirt and gives it to you. "Here baby, for your knees." You smile and bunch up the soft cotton material on the ground.

You kneel down in front of him, pulling his shorts down and snapping the elastic band of his boxers, finally freeing him. His erection sprang up at you. It was the longest and thickest cock you´ve ever seen.

"See how you make me feel, bunny?" He asked, making you smile. You pumped his shaft a few times to test the waters, making him groan deeply. "Fuck, y/n..." He moaned.

You kitten lick his tip, tasting his salty pre-cum, making Ashton´s whole body shiver.

Sinking down, you took his whole length, gagging. Ashton gently grabbed your hair, holding it to get it out of the way. Bobbing your head up and down, swirling circles around his tip.

"Fu-uck..." He moaned. "You're so perfect." He breathed deeply.

Soon enough, he was moving his hips, increasing his pace while his head was thrown back. "Makin´ me feel so good, sweet girl." He groaned.

He pulled himself out of you, grabbing you by the hair. "I´m not gonna be able to fuck you if we continue this." He chuckled. "Want daddy to fuck you, bunny?" He asked, making you nod. "Please, that's all I want, please." You begged, making him smile darkly.

You both stood up. "C´mere." He said, picking you up bridal style. You were still surprised as to how he could pick you up like you were nothing.

Taking you up a big staircase, you found yourself in a huge master bedroom, complete with another drum set, and vinyls hanging on the walls.

He plopped you down on the bed, a bit more roughly this time.

He looked around, opening a few drawers. "What 's wrong?" You asked. "Shit, I don't have a condom." He muttered. "I'm on the pill." You smiled, making him grin as well. "That's all you needed to say." He replied, taking off his shorts and underwear.

He climbed on top of the bed, hovering over you. "Daddy's gonna make you feel good, sweetheart." He smiled, you watched his eyes darken.

He puts a hand on your throat and pushes his mouth in for a kiss, hard, sloppy, hungry.

"You okay?" He smiles. "Yeah, just please fuck me Ashton." You pleaded. "Atta girl." He responded.

He grabbed your hips and slowly pushed himself inside of you, hissing at the feeling. The initial stretch burned, but slowly but surely you got adjusted to his size.

"Fuck, you´re so tight, bunny." He groaned, starting to pump in and out, guiding your hips, making you arch your back off the mattress, if they could, your eyes could roll into the back of your head.

"Please, faster." You exclaimed. You were lightheaded, becoming cockdrunk, letting out little moans that made Ashton go wild. "Want to ruin you, so nobody but me gets to use this pussy."

"Fuck! Just like that!" You exclaimed, feeling the pulsing wave of pleasure continue to grow inside of you, clenching around his cock. "You're taking me so well baby girl, won't last much longer with you clenching around me like that." He breathed rapidly.

"I'm close, Ashton." You repeated. "Cum for me bunny, let me feel that perfect fucking pussy." Those words were enough to make you cum alone.

You felt a familiar feeling inside your stomach. You felt Ashton´s cock twitch inside of you, meaning he was close as well.

You released yourself, gushing all over his cock, "Mphhhh.." You mewled and he filled you up to the brim with his cum, with a deep groaning sound,almost animalistic. he pulled out of you, letting his cum spill all over the sheets.

"Give me a second." He said, getting up and going to the bathroom, retrieving some wipes to help you clean up, discarding them in a trash can next to his bed.

"Was that okay?" He smiled. "It was perfect, Ashton." You grinned, looking up at him, pulling him into a kiss.

"Jesus, y/n, you´re gonna be the death of me." He curled his lips up into the kiss.

[kpopscruggles]

Mlt in svt to enjoy pegging / any type of (m receiving) anal play

So when it comes too pegging I have so many thoughts in mind it’s not even funny, ESPECIALLY WITH SVT! 

So, this is who’s on my rosta 

+Most Likely+ 

Jun – Imo I think this would start out within becoming a question, he’ll say maybe but because it’s not a yes it won't fall through. It’ll be itching his brain for days because he also wants to satisfy you and if that means filling him up with your cock then so be it. WHEN HE FINALLY AGREES HE” LL FIND OUT THAT HE” S NEVER COMING BACK FROM IT, he will soon realize that at least once a week he's begging you too fuck him. Him riding you has to be his favorite because sometimes you'll put a leash on him or he’ll even grip your breasts, suck your neck, possibilities are endless.  

Jeonghan – He suggests it first because he seen it while s rolling on twitter, it wasn’t just the fucking that caught his eye it was the hair pulling. SO, when he showed you, he wanted to take him just like that and you agree?!?! He was on all fours immediately, your cock buried deep in him while pulling at his hair. He’s also the type too spread his as open so you can get =t a clear view of how tight his hole is around you 

Hoshi – The whole kitty costume, he’ll start by sucking it and getting it nice and wet! I can also see him wanting to get toys that can physically cum, so he’ll have it leaking out his ass and onto the tail!!!! (AHHH) Hes a whiner too because this is something I feel like he's been doing himself but never actually asked you too fuck him so when he can lay back and just stroke his cock while letting his girl fuck him, he's stress free. 

Wonwoo – You asked, he knows you won't hurt him so why not try? He likes it but does it often? Probably not. He’ll use pegging when he needs that serious release! I can see him putting this at his high end of the filthy meter, because he might wanna be a bit on the sub side, I can see him using a fleshlight on his cock as you fuck him, maybe when putting a chastity on, if none of that then he is easily accepting your cock in a simple way 

Seokmin(DK) - I feel like this is another situation where he wants his girl too to be happy but he is more hesitant to agree, maybe he ends up trying it for himself first and it’ll even start out with you just using your fingers, or your hand to guide the dildo and then he will just beg for it. He will be quiet about it first because he’s focusing on the feeling but after the second time, he asks you to slap him, suck on your fingers, even spit in his mouth (ICANSEEHIMGETTINGFILTHY). 

SCOUPS? WOOZI? - Question marks next to them because its Shakey for me, they have the leader and main man type vibes so some may not agree, but I can easily see them coming home with fucking bricks on them should and they want a release but feel like no matter how much they cum the mindset will not make it the vibes. I can see you suggesting it and they question but decide to give it a ho (LIKE A MUSCLE SLUT TAKING A COCK / STRAP IS HOT AFS ANYWAY-). You will see the weight lifted off their shoulders and asking you too fuck them harder, choke them, slap them, you name it 

+At least Try+ 

[maopll]

Hello I'm not sure if my request is allowed since i did not see it on the rules so pls ignore it it is not allowed.

May I request Leona, Jamil, Rook and Malleus with a S/O who is suffering from depression? Another thing is they have caught the reader trying to unalive themselves, and harming themselves, their mental health is also getting worse. I'd like to see the boy's reaction and how they'd comfort their S/O(since it it similar to my current situation).

I understand if you're not comfortable with this request or do not want to do it. I also apologize of it is against the rules. I'd also like to say that I enjoy reading your works a lot. Please take care of yourself. Thank you and enjoy your day!<3

Let me heal your scars

| twisted wonderland !

⌗:, scars on the outside heal after a time. but...are there any methods or medications that can heal the scars inflicted on the inside?....

⌗:, a/n: anon I am comfortable with this request as I myself have gone through similar situations but you need to push through ! I hope you find solace in whatever keeps you happy and please don't do anything that might unalive you ! I love you <3 I have added things I kind of felt when situation like those happened

⌗:, warning: mentions of reader unaliving themselves,, trauma,, mental health issues,, read at your own risk ! angst !

⌗:, pairings: leona, jamil, malleus, rook w/ gn!reader

,,your depression has gotten worse. you still have freakish nightmares and you slowly start to wonder "do I really have any worth?" "maybe I am useless" "it is my fault that I always fail". these thoughts keep plaguing you mind it's as if someone is telling you to just k!ll yourself. maybe you should just?....

LEONA refuses to let anything get to his weakness and he would absolutely hate it when someone or something is the reason his cherished herbivore is going through hard times and having negative thoughts. He believed that when you are with him no dark thoughts would engulf your mind but...not everything can be kept at bay...

whenever you would visit savannahclaw you would most wear short sleeves or if you ever wore a long sleeve it would be mostly during winter but short sleeves were your favourite. However he noticed a sudden change in your clothing pattern with you wearing long sleeves more than often and turtlenecks . He may be laidback but he too once aimed for the throne of a king...

He knew you would never tell him so when you were sleeing in his arms he looked under your sleeves and for the first time he was frightened and covered in cold sweat.

" [name]...why do you have those cuts on your hands and on your neck ?" for the first time, your leona was dead serious with anything and his voice was a decible lower than usual. you knew that you would have to provide an atleast believeable excuse to make him believe. but no matter how much you tried to answer you felt as if you were being engulfed by the floor and damn gravity never felt this heavy.

you burst into tears. the thoughts, the pressure of life, the decisions, everything fell on you like a thousand bricks. he sucked at comforting but he knew hugs were your favourite. he told you to cry as much as you wanted to. he patted your back and offered to listen to everything you've been going through those days.

he may not be able to relate with you but atleast he can lessen the pain you've felt.

JAMIL himself had to undergo some strict training in his childhood but he had to admit that whatever happened with you nothing of the sort happened to him. so he couldn't share the nor understand your feelings but just know...that he will do whatever it takes to help you

you would visit his dorms and sometimes dance with him under the moonlight with passion because it was something you wanted to do, something that would be very intimate but recently he saw less passion in you and frequent absences of your presence on many days. he thought you were busy but there's no way that you would be absent for two weeks right?...

he was on his way to Ramshackle dorm to see what you were doing, and if there were any homework, he might help you with those, but he definitely didn't expect your silhouette standing on the highest balcony railing ready to jump. he was frozen with fear. 'there's no way that YOU would do this..'

as soon as he saw your feet leave the railing, he sprinted to the spot where you might fall, and thank goodness he caught you just before you hit the ground. you have some explaining to do cause he was taken aback, he couldn't grasp what was happening and he was definitely sweating HARD.

" WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING JUMPING OFF THAT RAILING ?! DO YOU WANT TO REALLY KI–" you cut him off by shouting "WHY DID YOU CATCH ME I DO NOT WANT TO LIVE ANYMORE LET ME GO" and that was your last straw as tears flowed out of your eyes like a waterfall and you were sure you were crying like a baby at this point.

Jamil can read the room very well so he sighed and said that you can tell him everything later on and he is sure that it is definitely trauma inducing otherwise you wouldn't have tried to jump off

he know how heartbreaking it would be to see you cry but he wants to let you let go of all the pains and sorrows you have experienced these days.

MALLEUS here has no idea. this man child is learning human emotions because he pretty much grew sheltered so he learns them by looking at you. Things that invoke happy emotions, romantic emotions, sometimes sad emotions but what is this emotion that you're feeling right now?

I feel that he is able to sense emotions that his lover feels. dragon instincts I guess. but while most emotions you feel smelled sweet, strong or sometimes like petrichor..this one smelled like poison ivy. why?

he may be learning but he doubts that those scents were anything but normal. while he did want to ask you about it you would just change the subject. he knew you were hiding something. his instincts are on another level when it comes to you

he sensed that you might be in danger so it's best if he investigated it by himself and not long after did he find blood stained knifes and ropes. he was horrified. to think that the one whom he cherishes so much would be trying to part away from him for eternity, to take away their own life. he can't have you do that. not when he already made up his mind to keep you by himself while he rules.

you made sure to check all your surroundings to see if everything was in place but you failed to notice that one knife was missing which malleus brought out in front of you when you didn't notice him. "[name]...why were you doing this to yourself?..." he was sad and heartbroken. his voice sounded like he was on the verge of crying and so were you. he was the last person you wanted to find out about your...intentions of killing you life...

no matter how much you tried to tell him something your mouth would only open just to close the next moment because you just cannot bring yourself to tell him. you dropped down on the floor telling him that "I just can't do it...I can't deal shit with life...everything around me feels like they are judging me..feel like they will engulf me and no matter what I do I'll just be useless all over again.." he couldn't reciprocate your feelings but he can surely make you feel better. such a person as yourself who stays bright and cheery should not be crying on the floor nor should they feel sorrows. he hugged you close to his chest while he told you that he would listen to everything you want to tell him.

if he can't shield you from sadness and mishaps then how can he call himself a worthy ruler who would protect the people..his people? so he would do anything in his power to make sure you never shed those tears again.

ROOK here knew exactly the moment when you seemed more gloomy and down than usual. you would talk less, eat less, and those eyebags were so prominent that they could be noticed from metres away.

Something is not right...he thought to himself. how could his always cheerful and perfect other half be so under the weather these days. looks like he needs to know about the origin of your sorrows. He is a stubborn one so he is going to and he WILL find out whatever or whoever has cause you pain. He knows for a reason that it's gotta be something from the past looking at how you don't want to tell him and looks like he was right....

he is slowly unfolding your bedsheets, opened your drawers, and investigated your kitchen knife. bigger sorrows usually lead to rash decisions and looks like he was right. he is a master archer and hunter. the smell of blood being too familiar to him to be able to trace the scent in the knife being yours.

he knew that it may be a possibility, but the fact being true makes him feel...crestfallen. how? why? when? all these thoughts raced his mind. he knew your reason for doing these would be even worse and heartbreaking. but he had to confront you and comfort you. so that's when you seeked you out in the middle of the night when you were almost going to drift off to slumber.

"[name]...were you trying to hurt yourself?" your eyes grew wide like saucers. you've never seen rook look so dejected and serious. you told him yes and showed him all the scars that wrapped your body. you felt tears threatening to spill from your eyes and..oh? why do your cheeks feel wet?...

his usual signature smile was now a ghost of itself and he had a frown. he hugged you as tight as possible and let you freely cry all over on his chest. he shushed you softly and told you to tell him everything you went through and let go of those past emotions.

with him here he swears to never let anyone or he himself be the reason of your tears. he can't afford to see his amoureuse stain her beautiful face.

a/n: sometimes you just need to let go of all those who belittled you or trampled over your pitiful self. you should now grow a stronger version of yourself and start your life anew <3

[lovelifeluaghsukuna]

blue sky🦋

chapter 2

chapter 1

TW:blood,kidnapping,k!ll ,abuse

I'll write the TW for every chapter 🦋

Word count:1058 .

At the break of dawn, as the sun began to appear on the horizon and slowly ascend into the sky, Sukuna was awakened by the barking of his dog, Jack.

He got out of bed, washed up, and put on his white shirt, rolling up the sleeves to reveal his large, tattooed forearms. He then put on his loose black pants and styled his hair upwards.

Sukuna never paid much attention to his appearance; he always kept things simple. After that, he placed food in his dog's bowl beside the fridge and searched for something to eat. Finding only some milk and cereal, he quickly prepared his breakfast and ate it.

He then headed to his truck to start his day as a delivery man in this small village. But Sukuna’s work wasn’t limited to deliveries; he also worked as a carpenter and even a porter. His large build, muscular physique, and experience in construction made him well-suited for performing various maintenance tasks around the village.

The next morning, Sukuna first went to Mr. and Mrs. Hana's house to collect the milk, then to the Tsuki family home to pick up the vegetables. He also stopped by several homes to fix minor issues. After that, he headed to the grandmother’s house to collect the eggs. He parked his truck beside the house and went to knock on the door.

After a few moments, the door opened, and Sukuna expected to see the grandmother as usual, but instead, there was a girl—a beautiful girl he had never seen in the village before. Who could she be?

In a sharp tone, Sukuna said,

"The eggs?"

The girl replied, confused,

"What?"

Just then, a voice from behind her, presumably the grandmother’s, said,

"Oh, it’s Mr. Ryomen! Welcome, welcome, come in."

Sukuna glanced at the grandmother, then back at the girl standing before him. The girl stepped aside to let him enter. Sukuna went in and greeted the grandmother, who said,

"You’ll find the eggs in the usual spot on the kitchen table."

Sukuna headed to the kitchen to collect the egg baskets while the mysterious girl followed him. He easily carried all the baskets in his hands, and the girl watched in awe and admiration. She smiled and said, "I guess you don’t need help carrying those. By the way, I didn’t introduce myself—my name is Y/N. I’m the grandmother’s granddaughter, and I just arrived from Tokyo yesterday."

Sukuna was a bit taken aback; he hadn’t known the grandmother had a granddaughter this age. The girl seemed young, beautiful, and strangely tempting. He ignored her and turned to the grandmother, saying firmly,

"I’ll bring the money by in the afternoon."

He then left for his truck to continue his day.

But the truth is, his mind was distracted all day thinking about the girl—

you!

Sukuna had spent his life moving between remote villages, avoiding the noise and crowds of the cities. He preferred the peace and isolation so he could carry out his activities away from prying eyes. And what are those activities? There’s no need to explain.

The village was mostly populated by elderly people, and it was rare to see a young man or woman wandering around. Sukuna’s day ended with many tasks accomplished. When he returned home, his dog greeted him with a welcoming bark. He patted its head, prepared its food, then lay down on the couch in the middle of the living room and closed his eyes to rest.

But your image lingered in his mind. He felt a deep hunger, but not for food—it was for something else. For blood.

It hadn’t been long since his last victim; usually, he hunted every few months, targeting people from areas a bit further away from the village. But this time, he wanted something specific. He wanted you.

He imagined wrapping his hand around your soft neck, biting into your shoulder that peeked from your clothes, or maybe even kissing your lips?

Kissing?

Did Sukuna just think about kissing?

This was new. His needs from his victims were always for hurting or devouring them, but this was the first time his thoughts strayed from that path.

Sukuna quickly got up from the couch, trying to shake these thoughts from his head. He cleaned up his house and got ready for bed.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

after Sukuna left your house, you turned to your grandmother in disbelief. "Did he just ignore me? What a strange person, and he looks scary too! I tried to be nice, but it seems he doesn’t deserve that," you said with frustration, throwing yourself onto the couch.

Your grandmother laughed and said, "That’s just how Mr. Ryumen is. He doesn’t like small talk; he just comes to do his job quietly and then leaves."

"How long has he been living here, Grandma?" you asked.

"He moved here four years ago and settled in the house by the lake. People in the village were scared of him, and some even suspected he might be a serial killer or something like that!"

"What!! A serial killer? I wouldn’t be surprised; he certainly looks the part. Anyway, what’s the plan for today?" you asked.

Your grandmother thought for a moment before saying, "I’m not sure, but would you like a tour around the village now?"

"Yes, yes! I want to see how it’s changed over the years!"

After breakfast and finishing up the household chores, you changed into a short pink dress, tied your hair into a ponytail, and went back to the living room where your grandmother was waiting.

"I’m ready, shall we go?" you said.

Your grandmother nodded and linked her arm with yours as you both left the house.

She first took you to the lake where you used to play as a child. "Wow, the lake hasn’t changed at all. It still looks as beautiful as it did in the past. I miss swimming in it," you said with a slight frown.

Your grandmother also frowned and said, "Unfortunately, dear, it’s not safe for swimming anymore. It’s filled with trash and dirt now."

"What happened to it? That’s really sad."

You continued your walk around the village, reminiscing about the past and memories. You also met some old friends of your grandmother who complimented you, saying how much you’ve grown into a young woman.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

a short chapter cuz i feel like i want to 0-0

how it was do you like it guys?:(

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

the poor Unpopular dudes-Asmodeus

dark times for Asmo fans and a crime against humanity, my wife did not deserve to be the least popular

this has 597 words

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

because the RAD Newspaper held a popularity contest that was rigged you tried to do one of your own, it was just you using Magic to get a piece of paper with the name of all the important people in the Devildom on it which would return on it´s own after somebody answered it, but the results were concerning to say the least…

you don´t know how it could have happened but Asmo managed to place dead last even Solomon was more popular than him and the majority of the people who answered were Demons so that´s bad but as long as Asmo doesn´t learn about what you did and the results everything will go as normal

“why did I have to learn about this through rumors!?” … okay now your fucked Asmo might have heard about it but maybe you can lie your way out of it “how come I the most beautiful Demon of all am dead last!” he threw up his hands “even Solomon is higher up than me, Solomon of all people!” yeah you can´t lie your way out of that one, he knows everything and is pissed

“okay but how about it being rigged?” he glared at you and you never thought you would see so much malice on his face, I mean you did see this look before but you never thought it would ever be directed at you “if it was rigged I´m going to kill you” yeah this did not work like you hoped it would

“okay it wasn´t rigged but maybe the Demons that love you just didn´t get it” it looks like his mood just got worse because his glare got even worse “everybody loves me! everybody does!” you slowly moved towards him when he was still ranting “I´m the most beautiful of all how could I not only lose but be dead last!?” you patted his back and hope he won´t go off on you next or accidentally hit you, at least you hope it will be an accident if not there will be blood

it seems like he calmed down because now he just looks sad about it, maybe even a bit insecure and no matter how foreign the words Asmo and insecure sound at first it happens pretty often actually

“do you think I´m the prettiest Demon of all?” even if he didn´t look like a kicked puppy you would have said yes but this just would have made saying no impossible “of course you are Asmo, if you want we can count again and see what I missed” he shook his head and just got up dragging you with him “we are going shopping now” he was holding your wrist in an iron grip, rather useless because you allow yourself to get dragged around by him “and you” he bopped you on the nose “are going with me I want no if´s or but´s and you won´t get a choice”

“I mean I suppose today is a day were I´ll allow it”

“yay! we are going to get so many cute outfits for you” and just as fast as his bad mood appeared it was gone again, though you suppose it´s a good thing a sad Asmo is a Asmo you would never want to see

he smiled at you and gave you a little kiss on the cheek “I don´t know how you always do it but I can never be sad when you are around” this made you smile too, he sure knows how to saw the sweetest things doesn´t he

[youtellmeman]

Montagues and Quaritches alike

Lo'ak x human!Reader

part 2

prt1->prt3(wip)

tawtute- human, skxwang- moron

Warnings- injury to reader but not described super in-depth.

You never got an answer when it came to that question of why help you, what you did know is that it came very much in handy. For instance when you ventured out into the forest once more and had been targeted by a small group viperwolf while foraging in the dark.

Should you had known better than to wander at night, yes, but to be fair your father had been running you into the ground with training lately. Something about making their first move soon. Either way it left little time for yourself and you just couldn’t stay away from the forest for too long. Plus  it just wouldn’t have felt right to go without warning Lo’ak.

Though it probably felt better than the gash that you’d received from one of those damn dogs.

“Shitt.” You’d hissed out, the pain was quick to set in after the adrenaline had worn off. Pulling up your pant leg revealed a cut that wrapped from your ankle to the inside of your calf. How were you gonna explain that to your father?

“What the hell is wrong with you? Dumb sky people, why would you come out here at night knowing how dangerous it is.” Lo’ak was crouched to where you’d let your leg stretch out in front of you. He reached out grabbing behind your leg to lift it up to get a better look. “It’s not too deep, you won't need to be closed up, but you ll need dressing to make sure you don’t get infected.” HE said after a few seconds of assessing the wound, placing your leg back down gently before standing.

And before you knew it, he was lifting you up bridal style and walking you through the woods. The heat that crept from your neck to your cheeks was involuntary and it had you thanking god for the darkness. Still after a few seconds you squirmed trying release yourself from his grasp.

“Put me down! I can walk. Where are you even taking me? Put me down, Lok”You pushed against his shoulder, but it did nothing and honestly the show of pure strength was doing nothing to aid the redness of your blush.

“That’s not how you say my name. It Lo’ak, lo–ak. Not lok.” He shot you a disgruntled look for a moment. “And no, you need dressings, and I cannot take you to your own people, but I can take you one of mine.” At that panic shit through your body.

“No, no, Put me down, I can’t- they can’t know I'm here, put me down!” 

“Calm down Tawtute, for eywas sake don't you think I know that. It’s just my sister be calm.” He said, patience growing thin for your constant movement against his chest and arms. You're not heavy by any means, but still no one wants to fight with someone they’re trying to help. “Now quite with the moving, you and your human clothes are going to give a rash.” 

“But-”You tried to refute his help once more but were swiftly silenced by the dirtiest of looks thrown down at you. Fine, you supposed, maybe this wouldn’t go totally horrible.

~~~

“What the fuck Lo’ak, that-that’s a person! What are you doing holding a person, oh my god, dads gonna kill you!” Or not.

“Shut up Kiri you skxwang before someone hears you!” He whisper yelled at his sister. You both found her in a different section of the forest. Gathering plants of some kind like you had been the first time around. 

“Someone should hear me what?! You brought one of those people here!” 

“Shut up Kiri, she’s not gonna do anything I promise, but she’s hurt and I need your help.”

“My help?!! You expect me to help one them, are you out of your-”

The siblings began to argue in hushed Na’vi, leaving you to lay awkwardly in Lo’ak arms. Eventually you found yourself analyzing Kiri, She didn’t look much like Lo’ak at all, except for of course the common denominator of them being blue and tall. She was a girl that could be it, but still. Before you could think about it too much Lo’aks voice cut through the air sharp, still in Na’vi to your disappointment.

“It’s eywas will, there was a sign.” At that Kiri stopped her fighting with him, her eyes moving from him to where you sat in his arms, squinting in question. Moving closer to you both, eyes boring into your own as she did so. Eventually coming to stand before you, pressing her large palm to your forehead.

“Uh-” You don’t get to question her not before she's pulling back eyes widening slightly before she sighs exasperated. 

“Fine. Stay here I shall go gather the supplies I need. Raise her leg.” Kiri instructs her brother before disappearing into the foliage. 

“Can you put me down now?”

“Tsk, are all tawtute as difficult as you?” He sucks his teeth at you, finally setting you down on a stone nearby, stepping away from second to grab a small piece of fallen wood. “Raise your leg.” You move on autopilot letting him place it under your leg before you are allowed to bring it down once more. 

“I am not difficult.” You snapping out of your stupor to rebuttal.

“ ‘put me down. lock’ ‘lock what are you doing!’ ‘i can walk, lok’” Lo’aks voice raises in pitch and his hands move up to clutch his chest while the other falls over his forehead dramatically. A surprised laugh leaves your mouth.

“I do not sound like that! And you said that’s not how you say your name?!” You laugh as you speak though you can't bring yourself to feel as offended as you try to sound.

“Uh yet it is Tawtute, listen to yourself.” He rolls his eyes with a smile. “And that's not how you say my name, but it is how you say it.” A cheeks smile spreads across his face and all you can do is laugh and sticking your tongue out at him.

You continue on with childish banter until Kiri returns and once she does an awkward blanket of silence falls across you.

“It’s um a pleasure to meet you,” you introduce yourself and Kiri simply nods eyes darting up between you and Lo’ak before she kneels next to the slash on your legs. Setting the basket she returned with beside her.

She pulls out a few bowls and rags. You dips a clean rag into a bowl of water wiping the gash clean of all dirt and debris before uncovering the two other bowls. Dipping two fingers into the separate ointment spreading them on and around the wound. After that she reached in to pull a few bandages out of the basket, wrapping around them the cut. 

“You must take these with you, and redress the wound every morning and night. If it starts to burn red tell Lo’ak to bring you back to me.” She tells you now that she’s finished dressing the wound. Placing the two bowls back into her woven basket and setting it next to your figure. Eyes darting between the both of you again she speaks once more. “How did you two meet.”

“He wanted to kill me.”

“Hey! That’s not fair you tried to kill me back!” Lo’ak’s neck snaps to face you and you chuckle at his defense. 

“He started it though.” You continue on a smirk playing on your lips as you shoot him an amused look for a moment. “Finished it of course.”

“The fact that the both of you stand here alive tells me neither of you finished anything.” Kiri tuts as us both, effectively wiping the smirk of your mouth and Lo’ak simply rolls his eyes.

“Don't listen to her, she couldn’t kill a dead fish.” He stands waving off Kiri and she glares at him.

“I wouldn’t have to kill it if it was a dead dumbass.”

“Shut up!” He whips his hair over his shoulder not bothering to turn around at her rebuttal. Simply flipping her off over his shoulder before bending down to pick you up once more. “Tell Mom and Dad I went out for a walk, I hate to put her back.”

“Put me back? I’m a person Lo’ak not a thing.” You correct him, not even bothering to shove him off as he lifts you up once more. Letting the basket of ointment hang on his elbow.

“Hey you said my name right!” He doesn't bother in acknowledging your statement, only the correct pronunciation. Bouncing you in his arms a bit clearly pleased with you. Yousimply roll your eyes with a smile and wave softly at Kiri.

“Bye Kiri.” You say and she says nothing in return, but she does offer a small grin and wave in return.

~~~

You don’t let Lo’ak take you all the way to the compound guiding him 3/4ths of the way before deciding this is close enough. He fights a bit with you but in the end admits defeat, setting you down making sure you're fine to walk about a hundred times before saying his goodbye. Though before he leaves he presses a dagger to your hand.

“What-”

“Use it only if you need to. And don’t ever come out at night again.” He says and the words are firm and heavy in the air.

“I can’t take this Lo’ak it’s yours.” You tried to push the dagger back to him but he refused, placing it in your free hand and curling your fingers around the handle. 

“Shut up and listen.” The words do their job in silencing you. “I wouldn’t feel good if you got hurt and since you're too stubborn to let me take you back you will take this. You understand?”

“I understand.” The words are quiet and his eyes soften once he registers your acceptance of the weapon.

“Good, now go.” You simply and start the way back to the compound. You make it back within twenty minutes. Unnoticed by the guards or your father, sliding the basket into the vent above your bed along with the dagger Lo’ak had pressed to your palm.

~~~

Lo’ak would also stay unnoticed it seemed, not by guards or your father, but by you. Staying in the trees following as you made your way back. 

He’d tried to go home after watching you walk away, but he couldn’t. Not when he knew what threats lay within these woods. Only making his way home after you’d slipped past the walls and he could no longer reach you.

And maybe knowing you were safe and alive cause of him made the speech he received from his parents worth it.

—————

Sorry this is so late my loves school is kicking my ass

taglist (comment to be added)

@wakanda-forever-andotherfandoms @bambithewriter @tsireyasluvr

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Hi! Happy Friday! On the Blake Lively thing...

I´ve been a romance reader (smut, dark, fantasy, mafia, regency..you name it, I´ve read it.) for much longer than many of those influencers on booktook. I´m not saying this as a flex, just for context. I´ve been reading them since 14 and I´ll be 40 this Halloween. Many of this "promoters" have their following and are directly responsible for the promoting of lots of mediocre books on SM (Ig and TT, mostly). Now, just because they recommend these books and create a hype that only SM can give you, it doesn´t mean they are good.

Coleen Hoover is a great example. I´ve DNFed every one of her books I´ve tried to read. Not only the writing is bad, she has a great deal of confussion about what she actually writes. It´s not romance, and it´s not dark romance: it trash. She does romanticize ugly situations, toxic men and women and horrible traumatic experiences. Just because she is "talking about difficult topics" does not make it good.

Now, she has a following, and we see the evidence on the fact that she sold 8M copies. Sure, but how many of those 8M people can give an honest mature positive review of it? How many actually like the book? The characters? They developed the book into a movie just because numbers were good. They took a mediocre book with mediocre characters with every toxic trait you can imagine and tried to make it into something Hollywodesque. Maybe Justin´s heart is in the right place and his effort to actually make a real movie on the DV topic was on the right track. As for Blake, I think she just got on the "romance train" and did what Colleen Hoover herself does with her characters: missed the point.

That said, I´m sure the movie has their audiences and will perform well. The message? The story sucks, the main actress is a mean girl and the only person you can take from this is a man. A man! Doing the job of creating awareness on DV!!! While the lead actress just wears pretty dresses and hangs on her hubby´s arm.

(Also, booktook is messy. There is everything under that label and is the home of very questionable not only readers bust authors.)

Oh, absolutely. I checked BookTok out when I first got on TikTok and noped out of it two weeks later. The books they were recommending, the people they were talking about, they hype they were creating - sometimes it really did feel like "did you people not read the book? It's TRASH. Literal t-r-a-s-h." Like there was no editing, the plots were going everywhere and nowhere, it was chockful of grammar and misspellings, the characters were stereotyped tropes.

I've learned to tune out the hype when it comes to BookTok because basically at this point, BookTok is just one giant ad and social media campaign for authors who could never make it past quality control of the neighborhood bookstore.

It's just not for me and I'm glad to see that more and more people are waking up to how problematic BookTok is - and how pervasive its marketing to female audiences has become. It almost kind of feels like because BookTok (a significantly female audience) tends to champion female-driven storytelling, a lot of new/current marketing strategies for female audiences is to promote female-driven storytelling, especially when it comes to romance (a significantly female-based genre). So it feels like Blake and Colleen took over the marketing and media tour for It Ends With Us to play into that trend. If they make It Ends With Us look like female-driven storytelling - female cast, female author, no men except the stereotypical tall dark handsome hunk our leading lady is in love with - then they'll get the female audience to franchise this thing and cement their status as leading storytellers of female empowerment.

(Which now that I'm thinking about it in the way, it does almost kind of feel like Blake may have wanted to use It Ends With Us as a vehicle to shortcut her way towards having her own production company for female-driven storytelling - because that's also the conversation happening in Hollywood these days.)

[ofstormsandfire]

TotK weapons fic you say??? tell me more

okay SO

this one is mostly just brainworms and I haven't written much yet

BUT

y'know how the sages in totk all end up with the champions' weapons

y'knowww how certain weapons in zelda lore (see: master sword, demon blade, possibly others) have sentience

y'knowwwwwww how the champions barely got shit in totk (revali in particular really got shafted, he is only mentioned on the name of revali's landing and in the compendium entry for his bow and That Is Literally It. I'm not bitter or anything, I say like a liar.)

basically. the champions end up possessing the weapons to help their successors. and because I'm me and I'm soft maybe this would be a fixit fic somehow? maybe the demon king would bring them back to fight on his side (no one is happy with this)

I think my plan is to have a chapter for each sage (tulin first) and then a final wrapup one? maybe. or maybe four chapters would be enough.

anyway. heehoo dream weirdness. have a lil excerpt as a treat. ft. the birbs ever. (I do hope I"ll figure out where I'm going with this one... sooner rather than later. because it's a fun one. scratches the "lack of champions" itch.)

"Hello," Tulin less says and more squeaks, because he's never met this strange Rito before in his life and he feels weirdly like he's being sized up. "Who are you?" "That... doesn't matter," says the strange Rito, as if he doesn't know that saying something doesn't matter isn't the fastest way to make Tulin even more curious about something. "You're... young." Tulin's feathers puff up. "Yeah, and what about it? You've still got your cheek spots too!" "Yes, but..." He shakes his head. "How old are you?" "...Fourteen," Tulin mumbles. "Why?" "Oh," says the stranger, in an almost-sympathetic tone that Tulin does not like or appreciate coming from someone who doesn't know him at all. "You're even younger than I feared." "And what about it?" Tulin emphasizes. "You sound like my dad. People who still have their cheek spots aren't allowed to sound like my dad. That's illegal!" The stranger raises a wing to hide most of his face. "Is it, now?" Tulin squints at him suspiciously. "Are you laughing at me? You'd better not be laughing at me. Or my dad." "If your dad is who I suspect he is," says the stranger, "I assure you I am not laughing at him." ...Which means he is, in fact, laughing at Tulin. His feathers bristle. "I don't know who you are, but you don't know who I am, either!" "I don't, do I?" Why does he still sound amused? "Enlighten me, then." "I'm Tulin. I'm the best flyer in Rito Village. I can call on the winds themselves!" He summons a Gust to demonstrate, and—well, if it quite literally ruffles this guy's feathers, maybe he shouldn't have been standing between Tulin and the Flight Range. "So don't laugh at me!"

[kipscorner]

-- Anything in parentheses (abc) feel free to delete! -- Anything in square brackets [abc] feel free to change! -- This is a long post, so please remember to tag “long post tw” or some kind of varient of the sort so you don’t clog mobile users dashes/people who don’t have “shorten posts.” turned on! :D

“Doesn't this seem like a bit much?”

“This is what Christmas is all about! Can't you feel it?”

“You guys, where are we? I think we should go back.”

“Serves them right, those Yuletide-loving sickly-sweet, nog-sucking cheer mongers!”

“I really don't like them. No, I don't.”

“I've been much too tolerant of these (Whovenile) delinquents and their innocent, victimless pranks.”

“So, they want to get to know me, do they?”

“I guess I could use a little social interaction.”

“Yeah, you bet. Ho, ho, ho, and stuff…”

“You see, [name]? The city is a dangerous place.”

“Now, please, don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.”

“Well, it's just, I look around at you and [Mom] and everyone getting all kerbobbled. Doesn't this seem...superfluous?”

“I think they were up on the mountain playing with matches, or defacing public property, or....”

“Take a look at his mailbox, (sweetie). Not a single Christmas card, in or out… Ever!”

“And for the rest of you: Jury duty! Jury duty! Jury duty! Blackmail. Pink slip. Chain letter. Eviction notice. Jury duty!”

“Well, that worked out nicely.”

“[Max], let's go. Our work here is finished.”

“Don't you know you shouldn't take things that don't belong to you? What's your problem? Are you a wild animal?”

“Saving you? Is that what you think I was doing? Wrong-o.”

“You've been practicing your Christmas wrapping! I am so proud of you.”

“My, I've never seen so many beautiful Christmas lights, [Betty Lou!]”

“It's handcrafted and almost 100 years old.”

“Come on, hurry up, Slowpoke.”

“What's that stench? It's fantastic!”

“One man's toxic sludge is another man's potpourri.”

“Did Christmas change or just me?"

“First floor, factory rejects.”

“But we did our worst. And that's all that matters.”

“At least I scared the bejeebles out of that little [girl] at the post office. [She]'ll be scarred for life, if we're lucky.”

“Funny she didn't rat on us, though. Must be afraid of reprisals.”

“If you utter so much as one syllable I'll hunt you down and gut you like a fish!”

“I've got all the company I need right here.”

“I'm an idiot!”

“You're an idiot!”

“Am I just eating because I'm bored?”

“In your own words, please tell me everything you know about [the Grinch.]”

“Hey, honey, our baby is here! He looks just like your boss.”

“It was Christmas Eve, and a strange wind blew that night.”

“Do you want a Christmas cookie?”

“Don't forget, tomorrow is our big Christmas gift exchange.Everyone bring a special gift for a special someone.”

“You don't have a chance with [her].”

“It was a horrible day when they were so cruel to [him]. And I could hardly bear it.”

“And that was the last time we ever saw [him]. The very last time.”

“I hate you.Hate, hate, hate. Hate, hate, hate. Double hate. Loathe entirely!”

“Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!”

“I may do something drastic.”

“You made that up! It doesn't say that.”

“But the book does say: The cheer-meister is the one who deserves a back slap or a toast. And it goes to the soul at Christmas who needs it most."

“Blast this Christmas music. It's joyful and triumphant.”

“The impudence! The audacity! The unmitigated gall!”

“You called down the thunder now, get ready for the boom!”

“Gaze into the face of fear!”

“You see? Even now the terror is welling up inside you.”

“Run for your life before I kill again!”

“Maybe you need a time-out.”

“Kids today. So desensitized by movies and television.”

“"Holiday Whobie-what-y"?”

“I know you hate Christmas, but what if it's all just a misunderstanding?”

“I myself am having some Yuletide doubts.”

“Award? You never mentioned an award!”

“Was anyone emotionally shattered?”

“Come on, a minute ago I couldn't shut you up! Details, details!”

“I don't know if it's that adorable twinkle in your eye or that nonconformist streak that reminds me of a younger, less hairy me.”

“Who knows? This Whobilation could change my entire outlook on life!”

“You can make snow angels later.”

“The nerve of those (Whos). Inviting me down there on such short notice. Even if I wanted to go, my schedule wouldn't allow it.”

“4:00, wallow in self-pity. 4:30, stare into the abyss. 5:00, solve world hunger tell no one. 5:30, jazzercise. 6:30, dinner with me… I can't cancel that again. 7:00, wrestle with my self-loathing… I'm booked! If I bumped the loathing to 9:00, I'd have time to lay in bed stare at the ceiling and slip slowly into madness.”

“It's not a dress, it's a kilt! Sicko!”

“This is ridiculous. If I can't find something nice to wear, I'm not going! That's it, I'm not going.”

“Ohh, ahh, mmm… That's it, I'm not going.”

“[He] isn't here. What? [He] didn't show? Who could have predicted this?

“All right. I'll swing by for a minute, allow them to envy me grab a handful of popcorn shrimp, and blow out of there.”

“But what if it's a cruel prank? What if it's a cash bar? How dare they!”

“All right, I'll go. But I'll be fashionably late.”

“All right. I've made my decision! I'm going, and that's that!”

“Come on, while I'm young!”

“But first, a little family reunion.”

“Are you two still living?”

“Sweater? What are you talkin' about? No, I can't! I can't do that!”

“No. I can't do it, honestly. I'm not ready. It's too much, too soon!”

“I've got a lawyer. There'll be hell to pay!”

“Look at the time. I really should be getting back.”

“Bring it on! Is that all you got? Is that all you got? Come on!”

“That's what it's all about, isn't it? That's what it's always been about!”

“Look, I don't want to make waves, but this whole Christmas season is stupid, stupid, stupid!”

“There is, however one teeny-tiny Christmas tradition I find quite meaningful. Mistletoe.”

“Burn, baby! Burn!”

“Evening, folks. Mind if I ride along? You might want to scooch over.”

“You fellas all right? How about a nice hat?”

“I'm hurt, [Lou]. I'm hurt, and I don't hurt easily.”

“But you and your family.... I'm so disappointed.”

“I just wanted everybody to be together for Christmas.”

“Suffering snorkelblatz! They're relentless!”

“Oh, no. I'm speaking in rhyme!”

“I must stop this whole thing. Why for year after year I've put up with it now.”

“Are you having a holly, jolly Christmas? Wrong-o!”

“If you're not going to help me then you might as well…”

“You're as cuddly as a cactus and as charming as an eel.”

“Just face the music, you're a monster.”

“Your heart's an empty hole.”

“I asked for three-quarters, not five-eighths. Stay focused!”

“Air bag is a little slow. But that's what these tests are for!”

“Talk about a recluse. He only comes out once a year, and he never catches any flak for it!”

“Probably lives up there to avoid the taxes.”

“No, forget that part. We'll improvise.”

“Saving Christmas was a lousy ending. Way too commercial.”

“We're gonna die! We're gonna die! I'm going to throw up, and then I'm gonna die!”

“[Mommy], tell it to stop!”

“Almost lost my cool there.”

“It's Santa! Go right back to sleep.”

“[He]'s planning a double-twisting interrupted forward-flying 2-and-a-half with a combo tuck and pike. High degree of difficulty.”

“Blasted water weight! Goes right to my hips.”

“Okay, fellas. Show time.”

“[Mr. Santa], what are you doing with our tree?”

“[Santa], what's Christmas really about?”

“I know [he]'s mean and hairy and smelly. [His] hands might be cold and clammy. But I think [he]'s actually kind of sweet.”

“Nice kid. Bad judge of character.”

“Clearance sale. Everything must go.”

“That wasn't so bad, was it, [Max]?”

“What an embarrassment! I've been robbed!”

“I wonder who could have done this.”

“But did anyone listen to me? No.”

“[Cindy], I hope you're very proud of what you've done.”

“You're glad. You're glad everything is gone. You're glad that [the Grinch] virtually wrecked.... No, not wrecked, pulverized Christmas. Is that what I'm hearing?”

“You can't hurt Christmas, [Mr. Mayor], because it isn't about the gifts or the contests or the fancy lights. That's what [Cindy]'s been trying to tell everyone! And me. [She]'s been trying to tell me.”

“What's wrong with you? This is a child!”

“[She]'s my child. And she happens to be right, by the way.”

“I don't need anything more for Christmas than this right here, my family!”

“Now for the final note in my symphony of downright nasty not-niceness! The crescendo of my odious opus! The wailing and the gnashing of teeth. The bellowing of the bitterly bummed out! It'll be like music to my ears!”

“Somehow or other, it came Just the same!”

“How could it be so? It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!”

“Maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

“Help me! I'm feeling!”

“What's happening to me? I'm all toasty inside. And I'm leaking?”

“All right, that's enough! Knock it off! beat it! Get out of here! One step at a time!

“Wait! This can't happen! It shouldn't! It couldn't! It mustn't! It wouldn't! Not now, not then, not ever again!”

“What are you doing up there!?”

“I came to see you. No one should be alone on Christmas.”

“I got you, [Cindy Lou]!”

“Are you kiddin'? The sun is bright and the powder's bitchin'!”

“Now scoot over! It's my turn to drive!”

“Now you listen to me, [young] [lady]! Even if we're horribly mangled there'll be no sad faces on Christmas.”

“By the way, these lights match your outfit perfectly.”

“This could be more difficult to negotiate.”

“Out of the way! I have no insurance!”

“Run for your lives! Watch out, I can't stop!”

“Aren't you gonna cuff me? Put me in a choke hold? Blind me with pepper spray?”

“Sorry but my heart belongs to someone else.”

“Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.”

“There's nothin' like the holidays.”

“Too late! That'll be mine.”

[123pixieaod]

"I care, I care, I care"

The weirdest brainrot pairing I've ever gotten lol. Set in the aftermath of the sprint today. Please enjoy this Oscar/Logan fic

You ’ll get it soon.

Unspoken words, hovering above his head. Like a lightbulb in a cartoon, just waiting for the idea to strike. Talent finally awakening. Light flicking on.

James, telling him that he’ll get it soon. The car is different, it’s new, and it’s a beast which Logan still needs to tame. But soon. Soon he’ll get it, whatever it is. The ability to finish, to get out, to smile. To be something other than an embarrassment, a pay-in, a stupid American.

“You’ll get it soon baby,” Lacy runs her fingers through his hair. He hums, scrolling through Instagram. Blue light, burning his eyes. Mindless. Anything not to look up, to not see her pity. She’s two years younger than him. A part-time student, full-time model. Oscar had raised his eyebrows at Logan when he first saw her. Blond hair as straight as rain, skin perfect, tight white tea with a neat skirt. Ticking all the boxes. An influencer and he’s a driver, and they look so good together, everyone says it.

“You sure caught yourself a good one with her, didn’t you?” He joked later. Elbow knocked into Logan’s side, and he forced himself to look up, offer a small smile. Wait for the joke, the barb tangled into his flesh.

“Lucky”, Oscar had simply said. A quick wink, as if it wasn’t just the two of them.

Who? Logan had imagined saying. Cut his tongue out. No need for words in a car anyway.

“You’ll get it soon,” his mother tells him. Voice soft, even over the line. About two continents and three oceans between them. Lacy still beside him. Updating her own Instagram, and Logan watches her edit the photos. Manicured nails in the pattern of a chequered flag tap on the screen, zooming in and out. I’m surprised you even know what a chequered flag looks like.

“Thanks,” he says. She zooms in on her skirt, dragging her finger over the material, instantly smoothing out the wrinkles. Saturation turned up slightly. In other life, I think I’d like to be an artist, he had once said. Laughter. Turning to look at him, eyes bright even in the darkness. Why wait for another lifetime? Why not this one Loge?

Maybe when I’m older, he had conceded. But for now, I’m too busy winning races to bother with sketching.

Don’t you mean too busy losing to me? Oscar giggled. An arm out, hand playfully pushing him in the darkness. Night heavy. Thirteen, heart too big in his chest.

“It’s just unlucky,” his mother continues. It’s dawn back home. He wonders has she slept at all. “Quali set you back, and the car isn’t good overtaking in circuits like these. You couldn’t do anything else, Logan. The car isn’t good with grip, you’re just getting the hang of it. It’s unlucky, could’ve happened to anyone.” He nods, even though she can’t see him. Lacy is now zoomed in on her face, softening her skin texture and smoothing the imperfections away. Filter only her lips, brightening them.

“Are you tired?”

He nods again, and then feels stupid when the silence stretches. “Yes. A race is always tiring, you know?”

Of course, she knows. She’s the one who stood with his dad at the side of every race, every go-karting competition. American wind and American rain and American sun. Home saturated on the track, accents matching his own.

“Yes, sweetheart. Are you going to the after-party?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Logan pretends not to notice how Lacy stills.

“Really?” His mother tries to keep any inflexion from her tone. “Not even with Oscar?”

Logan huffs a laugh. “Oscar will be way too busy mom. He won the sprint.”

“I know, that’s what I meant. Not even to celebrate his first podium?”

He swallows, looking down at his trousers. Thumb fingernail trailing up and down the seam, made to perfection. India, China? Mass-produced, workers whose names he’ll never know. He wears and uses and discards their work, move on to the next thing to taint with his touch. Always new shirts, new trousers.

Oscar wrinkling his nose. Eleven. Carting academy in Brexton/ Brixton. Both are the only non-Europeans there. Locked as roommates, these foreigners who speak English differently. Logan’s first time sharing a room. Oscar’s first time meeting someone like Logan.

“That’s a waste,” he told him, watching as Logan sorted through his wardrobe. His parents had left him to unpack. His father telling him he was growing up, he was taking the first step in his career. His mother’s tight hug, promising to call every night, promising that he can come home whenever he wants. “You don’t need all those clothes.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.” Incessant. Australian accent foreign and harsh against his ears. Bouncing through tones. Up and down. Higher-pitched than Logan’s.

“I don’t have half as many clothes as you have, and I’m fine,” he continued. Logan just shrugged. “I keep my clothes until they fall apart.” Proud, and Logan couldn’t help but turn, nose wrinkled in disgust.

“What?”

Oscar nodded, happy to finally have his attention. Cross-legged on the bed, skin still warm from Australian weather. Freckles. Front tooth missing, young for his age. “My mum even stitches them, if the tear isn’t bad. It’s a waste. It’s bad for the environment. Why buy new things when the old things are working fine? Plus, it’s an easy way to save money.”

Saving money. As if money was a finite source, something to be counted and hoarded and saved. Saving time, saving face, saving money.

Logan had never thought about that before.

“Tell him we’re happy for him, will you?” His mom is continuing. “I remember when he was just so small I just wanted to put him in my pocket.” She laughs, and Logan wrinkles his nose.

“Whatever mom.”

“I’ll text his mother too. She was always nice to us. Don’t tell Daddy, you know what he’s like.”

Another laugh. Like it’s nothing, just a joke. Logan continues to run his thumb along the seam of his pants.  His mother always the one to ring him after the races. DNF, fighting with HAAS for the bottom three places. An investment. That’s what his dad used to call it. Carting is a creature surviving on a steady diet of money, and his dad is always there to provide for it. Up to F1, and success brushes against his fingertips before racing away.

“You made it to the family fridge,” Oscar once told him. Grinning, tone pitched lower, finally broken. Spots and acne. Seventeen and on the edge of something great.

“Oh yeah?” Logan replied, smirking. “Nicole couldn’t get enough of me, could she?”

Oscar laughed, pressing his side against Logan’s. A wall of warmth, his gentle sandalwood aftershave lingering in their shared space. Then pulling back, telling him he’s an idiot, the smile shaping his words.

“You’ll get it soon,” his mom says, the quiet stretching. She always had a knack for knowing what he was feeling, even though he’s lived away for longer than lived with her.

“Yeah,” he says, still picking at his jeans. “I better.”

Part 2

[bluiex]

*stares* i have another scarian bit before i go to sleep

last life!grian had his dog army, and so i propose he named one of them after scar

it wasnt intentional at first, he didnt mean to name the dog, of course, since he didn't really want to get attached, but he kept seeing similarities between the dog and scar

for one, the dog kept following him around, refusing to sit down at times, for another, the dog was very affectionate towards grian, regardless of how much grian ignored him, the poor dog never faltered in its show of affection to its owner

and gradually grian kept accidentally calling the one specific dog 'scar' in his head, it isn't the usual mistake to make but the stress was getting to him and so his brain latched onto the similar acting person to refer to the dog that stuck out the most, since it refused to sit down

eventually grian dyed the dogs collar a pretty green colour, that matched scars usual eye colour outside the life games ;) he told himself it was just so he could tell his allies that the dog was more excitable than the others just in case they thought the dog was attacking them, but he never ended up telling any of them that, especially since the dog was only hyper towards him

the dog dies at some point while fighting, maybe around the time the actual scar dies just as a lil coincidence, and grian feels himself get slightly upset over it, though he just makes himsf brush it off, afterall he is in the midst of the constant fighting that always happens at the end of these games, but he does think about it whenever he got the time to think again

this may not be last life lore accurate bc i may be hyperfixated on it but god my memory is bullshit and i havent had a shot to rewatch grians pov again so

-🧨

YES HE NAMES A DOG AFTER SCAR QoQ

I feel like Joel would've noticed with the amount of time they spent together as red lives. But Joel didn't say anything, everyone had their "weird" quirks in the death games.. What if Grian when back on hc, immediately found a dog similar to the one in LL and named it Scar- Scar doesn't question it at all cuz damn it's a cute dog

Until Grian let's it slip he named it after him-

[talia-rumlow]

Home Sweet Home (AU Rumlow X Reader) Chapter One - Something Just Like This!

So, since I´ve gained a few Callan Mulvey fans as followers lately, I decided to start to post this story even if I´m not quite finished posting My Saviour yet. I hope you enjoy reading this story, just as much as I enjoy writing it. Every chapter in this story will be named after a song. And I strongly advice you to listen to the song, and you´ll get a better feel of the chapter

Pairing: Brock Rumlow (Mechanic ex Military Brock) X Reader

Word Count: 1825

Summary: Reader is Jack Rollins 20 year old daughter. Brock Rumlow is Jack Rollins 46 year old best friend.

Warnings: Age-Gap (no explicit material yet)

DISCLAIMER: This is an AU story. But I still don´t own any of the MARVEL characters, only my original ones.

HAPPY READING!

Shit, the weather man wasn't lying when he said this would be a hot day. You lock the door to work, and move towards your car. Why did you chose to move back to Texas again? Oh, yeah. Because your boss in New York was a total asshole, and so was your mothers new boyfriend. So you had no choice but to ask your dad if you could stay with him.

Thankfully he said yes, although you suspected that he didn't like it too much. You moving into his house, taking parts of his private life away. But he gave you a job, doing inventory at his delivery business. And he sometimes took long trips to deliver stuff, so you had the house to yourself now and then.

Like now. Your dad was on a trip to Chicago, and would be gone for at least another week. Perfect, with these temperatures the air condition would probably stop working. And you had no idea how to fix it. At least you had a pool in your backyard, you could cool off there.

Thank God it's Friday, and you have two days off work. You could really use a beer right about now. The only problem, you're only 20. It's stupid really. You've been able to drive a car since you were 16, but you can't buy beer. You could try, but the Rollins name is a well known name in these parts, so you probably won't be able too. Well, let's hope your dad have something in his liquor cabinet at home.

You open the drivers door to your car, and the hot air from inside hits you like fire. Fuck. You roll down your windows the instant you turn on your car. You'd never be able to drive home otherwise. You crank up the music, before you start to drive home.

It's not long, about a 15 minutes drive. But you feel like it takes forever. You just want to get back home, and change into a bikini or something, and chill by the pool. You can feel your shirt sticking to your back, as you turn into the driveway. A PickUp truck is parked in your spot, and the garage door is open. Your dad didn't say anything about visitors. Is someone breaking in?

You park the car, and turn off the engine, before you slowly exit the car. Should you call the cops? Probably not, at least see who it is first. Your dad is well off, and that is well known around these parts. Someone could break in. Maybe you should call.

You pick up your phone, and call 911.

- 911 what's your emergency?

A lady answers.

- Yeah, it's YN Rollins, I think someone is breaking into my house.

You're almost whispering, hiding behind the PickUp truck.

- Ok, stay where you are, mam. What's your address?

You give her your address.

- I'll send a car right away. Do you know if they're armed?

Armed? Fuck, you didn't think of that.

- No, I don't know!

You answer.

- Ok, mam. Do you have any firearms in the house?

Do you have firearms? This is fricking Texas, of course you have firearms.

- Mam, Do you have firearms in your house?

The lady asks again.

- Yes! We have some.

You answer.

- A car will be at your address in ten minutes. Just stay where you are mam.

You hang up, and almost immediately after you hear something falling to the floor in the garage. Sounds like something metal. You move towards the sound. You know they told you to stay put, but you're too curious not to.

You fish your pepperspray up from your purse, and take a hold of it. You've been carrying pepperspray for some time now. New York at night isn't exactly the safest place for young girls. And pepperspray made you feel a bit safer. Around these parts, no one dared to mess with you. The Rollins name came with a deep respect in Texas.

You keep moving towards the sounds in the garage, slowly, careful not to make any noise. You kinda hope that the cops will arrive before you encounter whoever's in your garage. Maybe you should call your dad? No, he'd probably be scared out of his mind for you, and double back.

You keep moving towards the sound. What the fuck are they stealing? Your dads tools? God, please don't have a gun. As you enter the garage, you can see someone moving. You prepare your pepperspray.

Just a couple more steps..

You lift your pepperspray, as you round the corner.

- The cops are on their way!

You yell, as you lift the pepperspray, spraying the persons face. He screams, covering his face.

- YN! What the hell are you doing?

He says, desperately trying to shield his face.

- Brock?

You say, surprised.

- God, I'm so sorry!

You continue, as you hand him a bottle of water for him to wash some of the pepperspray of.

- What are you doing here?

- I'm fixing Jacks car. But no one told me that I was in danger of being peppered down.

He says, pouring water on his face.

- God, Brock. I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were like... Going to be here.

You take a look at his face. Thankfully he got to wash most of it off, but he's still red around the eyes.

- So, do you usually carry pepperspray and spray people down?

He asks.

- This is actually the first time I've used it. I'm sorry...

- Well, I'm honoured!

He says, with a smile. Thank God, for Brocks humor.

Sirens approaching. You suddenly feel really embarrassed.

- Wait? You called the cops on me?

Brock looks at you.

- I'm sorry. I tell them it was a mistake.

You walk out of the garage, Brock follows.

- You sure know how to welcome people, YN!

You feel beyond embarrassed when you tell the officers about the mistake.

You actually called the cops on Brock. Your dads best friend. Someone you've known your entire life. You still remember how Brock used to tell the best stories, when you came to visit your dad. Brock is no thief. How come you didn't check who it was first? This hot weather is messing with your mind.

When the cops leaves, you turn towards Brock again. He is shirtless, his toned skin glistening with sweat, and his work pants resting on his hips, revealing the lining of his boxers. Some dark spots here and there on his upper body and his face, probably from the oil. Fucking God! Did he look this good the last time you saw him?

- Look at you! All grown up!

He says.

- Err.. Yeah.. You too.. Err.. I mean...

You have no idea what to say. His looks. God. Like straight out of heaven.

- Hey, don't think about the pepperspray..

He says, giving you a hug.

- Or the cops..

He continues.

- Well, you can feel a bit bad for the pepperspray.

He adds.

- Oh my God!

You say, looking at his face again. He's flaming red around the eyes.

- I'll help you with that. Just come inside, and I'll see what I can do to help.

In the living room, you tell him to sit down on the couch, before you go and grab some soap and shampoo from the bathroom, to rinse with.

You sit down next to him, using some of your supplies to wash his face. You try not to look at his bare upper body, but it's almost impossible. His muscles, six pack. Some tattoos on his upper arms. Have he been working out like 12 times a week? It should be illegal to look this good.

- At least there is nothing wrong with your aim.

He suddenly says. You're so focused on not to look at him, that his voice makes you jump.

- Huh?

You say.

- Although you should work on your welcoming skills.

He laughs a bit. You always liked Brocks humor. He always made you laugh when you were younger. But now, in this particular situation, he makes you extremely nervous.

- Well, no one told me you'd be around. I thought you were a burglar!

He laughs again.

- At least I can tell Jack, that he doesn't need to get a guard dog.

Finally you manage to laugh with him. You laugh until your stomach and your chin hurts. Before you once again look at him. The red around the eyes looks a bit better now. You lift your hand, and touch his temple.

- Does it hurt?

He smiles.

- I'll live. Hey. I have some beers in my truck. Say we have some, and forget about this whole burglary thing.

- I...

You start.

- I know you're only 20, YN. But I know for a fact that never stopped Jack. If it did, I don't think you'd even be born. So I know he won't mind.

You smile, and nod.

You always had a good almost friend like relationship with your parents friends. Could be because they were really young when you were born. It's only 20 years between you and your dad, and only 18 between you and your mom. So when you reached 16, and started to drive, you actually picked them up from parties. Probably not the best parental work. But you didn't mind. You actually thought it was cool, and your friends thought so too.

- I'm just gonna have a shower. Looks like you could use one as well.

You gather all the supplies from before, and walk towards the bathroom.

- Just let me know when you're done. Want some food?

You can hear him say, when you lock the bathroom door behind you.

- There's a menu on the fridge!

You yell back, before you eagerly get out of your sweaty work clothes.

When you come out of the shower again, you realise that you didn't bring new clothes. Fuck! This whole heatwave thing, and Brock all sweaty and sexy really messed with your mind. You wrap a towel around you, and carefully open the door. Brock isn't in the living room. Thank God for that, you hurry up the stairs, and towards your room.

When you're almost at your door, the door to the upstairs bathroom opens, and Brock comes out, wet from the shower with a towel around his waist. You jump so much that you choke on your own saliva, and calf like crazy. Brock pats your back.

- Hey, you OK? I didn't mean to scare you.

You look at him again. Fuck that body, and with wet hair. God! How old is he now? 40? No, he's older than your dad. 44? 46? Stop it, YN!

- Yes, I'm fine.. I Just need some clothes.

He looks at you, concerned.

- Meet you downstairs then. The food will be here soon.

You walk into your room, and put on some new clothes. Food? Drinks? What is this? Like a date?

@nekoannie-chan @late-to-the-party-81 @bat-mar @rip1009 @here4thefanfics @there-goes-thefighter @ladysif8

Check out the Home Sweet Home Masterlist HERE!

Check out My Frank Grillo Masterlist HERE!

Next Chapter

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

Bee and Argie, Billy and Argyle

Arturo Guillermo Franco Valdes.

Arturo Guillermo, and a friend that calls him Guille, Artie, Argie.

A red faced Billy that pronounces Guillermo as ‘Gah-ee-ler-moh’ before learning that ‘ll’ makes a ‘yuh’ sound in Spanish.

Artie calling him Bee-yee, and later Bee, as a joke because of it.

Billy tosses out nicknames like the affection he’s never been sure how to express. But he loves the way his friend's name rolls off his tongue, the syllables strange and clunky and a challenge that Billy readily takes up. Soon, it falls full and melodic from his lips, prettier than any song he's ever heard on the old radio his mom left him with.

Mi amigo, Arturo.

Argie tells him not to sweat it, but Billy doesn’t understand why nobody else seems to want to make the effort. Like it’s too difficult, or like Argie isn’t worth the effort. Most of the other Mexican kids at school already know how to pronounce the names that give their white teachers pause, but outside of that demographic there’s a pathetic lack of effort that incites Billy sometimes. 

“Don’t sweat it, bro. Not everyone can roll their Rs as good as you.”

“What, like it’s hard? Fuckin’ idiots.”

(Years later, when they find each other again, Billy will know why his old friend Argie goes by Argyle, because Argyle will nudge him with a serene little smile of his and say, “Long time no see, Bee. Your ol’ pal Artie Gyle-ermo missed you, amigo.”)

Once, early in their friendship, Billy asks Argie why he has so many damn names. Why does he need like half a dozen of them? And Argie says,

“Well, I dunno. I think it makes me pretty damn special, though. How many ‘Arturo Guillermo Franco Valdes’ do you know?”

“Just you, obviously. But that doesn’t mean much, I don’t know any other ‘William Hargrove’s either.”

“Maybe not. But it’s prolly a lot easier for some random Hargrove to be named Billy than for someone to line up a buncha random names to smash together and create a Franco Valdes named Arturo Guillermo.”

“That ‘random Hargrove’ is me, jackass!”

“Exactly!”

“At least my name’s not a fuckin’ mouthful!”

“Oh, so I’m a mouthful, am I?”

“Fuck you!”

A few months later, well into Billy's friendship with Argyle, the kid invites him over to his place to check out his new bike or something, Billy doesn't remember.

What he does remember is meeting Argyle's dad and paternal grandma, Nana Hermelinda.

It's getting colder, for California at least, and Nana insists on making the kids chocolate abuelita while Argyle's dad is at work. A much richer hot chocolate than Billy is used to, the smell is spicy sweet and warm in the air as it foams up in the pot Nana is using, instead of the mild chemical sweetness of the mugs Billy puts in the microwave when he can sneak a packet of Swiss Miss in the winter. Her worn, wrinkled hands make quick work of it, expertly spinning between them a wooden stick with rotating round bits at the end that goes into the frothy mix. Nana calls it a molinillo when she sees him looking at it, and rather than freeze up over being caught staring, as he normally would, Billy instead finds himself trying to pronounce the new word for the remaining five minutes the chocolate takes to finish. The air feels almost soft around him, pleasantly warm and sweet like cinnamon as Nana lets the mixture cool while she searches for mugs in the cabinet above them. When she offers him his own, a brown mug with a rounded bottom and pretty dotted flower designs on its shiny finish, Billy is shy and hesitant to take it. But the warmth as he wraps his chilly fingers around it is welcoming and its smells so good. The first sip is cautious, slow like he's still unsure about whether he's allowed something so warm and comforting.

It's incredible.

Billy's pretty blue eyes light up like Argyle has never seen before. He can feel his heart thump awkwardly in his chest as those baby blues shine bright in the soft yellow light of the kitchen.

Then Billy lowers the mug, and a little mustache of foamed milk and chocolate lines his upper lip. Argyle quickly forgets the brief stutter of his heartbeat and cackles at the sight.

Billy is too busy having a religious experience over his mug of hot chocolate to bother with telling him to shut up like he normally would, but he doesn't truly mind- he likes the sound of Argie's loud bouncing laughter.

Nana looks fondly at them over her own mug, sitting comfortably on a stool by the kitchen counter as Billy politely thanks her for the drink with what little clumsy Spanish he's learned from Argyle so far. She coos at him, putting down her mug as she answers in a kind, lilting Spanish that Argyle will later tell him roughly means, "Of course, love. Come here whenever you like. I will make you a mug anytime, son." Billy inhales the warm steam wafting up from the mug he holds tight as Nana places a gentle hand on his cheek and calls him mijo.

Years later, Billy still remembers it as one of the last times he'd felt so held and cared for.