#not me spending a good hour trying to find a single line i like most out of all my stuff and failing miserably

[reiverreturns]

for the fanfic writer asks!

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

🍬 Do you write for multiple fandoms? If yes, what is your favorite fic of yours for each fandom?

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

hookay we all know i am incapable of pulling out single sentences so here's some passages! and two because i can't decide!!

Joseph ponders this for a minute, then nods. They both understand what Jacob means. That John lacks discipline, he lacks grit. He toys with ideas bigger than himself and carves them into people’s skin like a child with crayons. He has suffered, oh how he’s suffered, but he’s still too green to have bitten down into the rot of humanity and tested how far his teeth will go. He isn’t them.

from this fic. i really love this line because i think it really nails my interpretation of the seed brother dynamic. joseph and jacob having this affinity as the older, self-sufficient, trauma-bonded brothers while john is always slightly on the periphery of their experience but no less loved. i really vibe with that because john is imo the most violent and unhinged but it really tickles me that his two brothers would think he's the silly rabbit in spite of skinning and torturing people.

As a child, Phoenix never wanted siblings.  She played alone, ate alone, dreamed alone. She had an aptitude for numbers but a torrid impatience for history, a temper that was fierce but took long to spark, a bare-toothed need to learn what tied the knots in people and slip beyond them unnoticed. She is the product of an absent father and a mother who never had the stomach for the job; an older half-sister with crow’s feet and wide hips and red lacquered fingernails. If Phoenix really tries, she can still remember how to get to her sister’s house. The urge has never taken her. She isn’t sure she would even recognise it if she did. 

from this fic. i really like this passage because i think it just captures my take on this character so concisely without being super on-the-nose about her description or why she is the way she is. phoenix my beloved <3

Do you write for multiple fandoms? If yes, what is your favorite fic of yours for each fandom?

i do!

assassin's creed - attrition because i'm ashamed to admit it's the only fic i've fully re-read all the way through and ergo the only one i can comment on (SO BAD SELF)

FC5 - blessed are the meek bc it's the only one published and i love love love genfic in this fandom (even though there is so little of it)

TGM - quiet promises because i think it's the best editing i've ever done on a fic. genuinely don't think there is a thing i would change about it.

What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

that writing, for me, is an act of self-care, and i am a better person (and a better writer) when i acknowledge that. my creative mind needs nurturing and an avenue to express and that shouldn't be considered less important than any other self-sustaining task i need to do. when i treat writing as a tool to help me (instead of one that's dragging me down) i have a much healthier appreciation for what i'm doing.

also, the way to get stylistically better as a writer is to read more. reading is not a distraction from writing but an essential part of it.

ask me some fanfic writing things!

[b14augrana]

The End Of The World

Alexia isn’t well post-breakup

Alexia Putellas x reader

masterlist

Warnings: angst, mutual breakup, yearning and heartbroken alexia, no happy ending

A/N: listen to the song for max effect! ‘right where you left me’ is another good one that fits this story. this is only a short fic, but i hope you enjoy :)

You and Alexia breaking up was for the best. She knows that.

Her career is demanding, and you just weren’t willing to pursue that lifestyle yet; it was glamorous, being the girlfriend of a professional footballer, but it also meant there were rarely any opportunities to spend quality time with her and that wasn’t the relationship you wanted. She understands that.

So why does it hurt worse than ending on bad terms? Actually, that’s a stupid question. Alexia knows why it hurts. If she had a reason to hate you, it would be easier to move on, but she cannot think of a single thing worth hating you for.

That’s what she hates the most — the lack of cruelty, toxicity, infidelity behind the breakup. There isn’t a single proper reason for her to stop yearning for you.

The first week after the breakup, she finds herself seeking out any signs of you wherever she could. It hurts, and she doesn’t have an excuse or a reason. She swore that your perfume lingered in the air, following her, taunting her. Whenever someone walks past, she notices; everyone smells like oranges, earth, and incense. Everyone smells like you.

On every street, there is something of yours. A mural you posed in front of for a photo, a flower bush you once pointed out on a walk because the budding flora stood out to you, a restaurant you introduced Alexia to without knowing it would quickly become her favourite. She sees apparitions of you in places that you would’ve been in right now, if you were still here. Still with her. Still part of her life.

Everything seems pointless and from the moment you declare the love story of her life to be over, Alexia thinks that everything should cease to exist. Why does the sun shine through the gaps in her curtains, when you aren’t laying beside her in the mornings to compliment it? Why does her heart continue to beat, when it cannot be listened to on sleepless nights, with your head on her chest?

Nobody works up the courage to ask her what’s wrong when she walks into the gym with dull under eyes and little to no energy in her movements. Alexia’s signature enthusiasm to be in the gym and improving herself is gone, and her teammates only look on with inconclusive questions as to why their captain is so… different. She watches them go on with their lives like nothing ever happened, and she’s so offended and bitter. They’re completely unaware that the end is here, at least for Alexia. The world has been at its inevitable end for longer than they know — the world ended when you stopped loving her.

Alexia isn’t one for letters, so it’s incredible that she finds herself sitting at her dining table, hunched over at an ungodly hour, scrawling words in her best handwriting onto a piece of paper.

She seals it in an envelope, running her thumb along the smooth surface for a second. She still knows your address by heart, and despite your house being much like a prison for her in terms of trying to avoid it at all costs, she finds herself navigating streets and turning corners to end up there.

Alexia passes a bookstore, and in the short moment she stands in front of it, she recalls standing in between aisles with you while you chose a book to buy. Clothing shops line the roads, and she can point out shirts in their windows that you own. A restaurant sits on the corner of the street, and she can point out the table you two had eaten breakfast, lunch, and dinner at…

But she can point something else out — you.

You’re there, in the window, sitting at the table in the same seat you always chose. It makes her wonder if those memories were lost on you. Magazine in one hand, tea in the other. She knows it’s tea, because you hate coffee.

Alexia becomes acutely aware of the letter in her hand, and her plans have changed.

When a waitress comes up to your table with a little white envelope in hand, explaining that someone had just come into the restaurant and asked her to give it to you, you’re confused. When you unfold the letter and read it, whatever you’re feeling is inexplicable.

‘Mi querido,

I probably shouldn’t be calling you ‘mi querido’, or writing this letter in the first place, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t tell you how much I love you one more time. I cannot imagine a life where being happy and being without you are able to coexist. If I knew that my career would’ve been the end of us, I would’ve traded my first love for my forever love, in a heartbeat.

Sincerely yours…

Your head lifts and you crane to look out of the window. Streaks of blonde hair disappear down the street, further than you can see from your seat.

…Alexia.’

[matryosika]

Maknae Line: Love Languages and Sex

Wordcount: 6,250 words

Genre: Smut, headcanons and scenarios.

Includes: Skz maknae line members, female reader, dirty dialogues. Mentions of stress in Seungmin's scenario, and the tiniest bit of angst too.

Author's note: Finally, the maknae version is here! I know it took me a while, and I apologize, but here it is. This is all lovey-dovey, just sweet filth. I had tons of fun writing this, so I hope you guys like it. If you want, you can check out the Hyung Line version here. This is not proofread, and english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

If you wish to support my work further, please consider buying me a coffee! The job hunting has not been good pretty far, so every single tip is appreciated. Also, feedback, reblogs and comments/asks are very motivating for me to keep on posting. I love you.

Smut warnings: Dirty dialogues and curse words. Use of petnames, mutual masturbation (for Jisung's scenario), oral sex, face fucking (for Felix's scenario), cum eating (for Felix's scenario), shower sex (for Seungmin's scenario), choking (for Jeongin's scenario), body cumshot (for Jeongin's scenario), also possessive Jeongin because I love him so much.

Jisung: Physical Touch and Quality Time

"Is this one okay?”

Jisung has been scrolling for about 20 minutes over the movie catalog, trying to pick a movie for you to watch together.

A waste of time, you think. It’s not like you’re going to watch it anyways, and he knows it. But he still spares some of his time to try and find the right one, something you'd want to watch... or have as background noise while you two make out.

“Yeah,” the movie looks promising, but considering’s Jisung’s sneaky hand between your thighs while he mindlessly stare at the screen in front of you two, you’re really sure you’re not going to pay any attention to it. “That one’s good”.

Once the movie starts playing, you two settle in beneath the warm blankets with all sorts of snacks, candy and chips to munch from, happily enjoying each other's company.

Because of college and part-time jobs, it’s has been a while since you last enjoyed a chill, relaxed weekend with your boyfriend. Surely, he does everything he can to meet you throughout the week —a quick call between your classes to chat for a while, an unexpected invitation to eat or have dinner, driving to where you work so he can pick you up and drive you home… Jisung always finds a way to spend some time with you, even for ten or fifteen minutes.

That's why whenever you two are free for the day, he rushes up to your apartment, or ask you to meet in his, just so he can spend all day together with you. Sometimes you two go out and enjoy a nice dinner somewhere, followed by a late-night walk through Seoul’s streets. Some others, you’d rather spend your weekend at home, ordering take out and just unwinding together like you’re doing right now.

But almost always, such dates end with you two fucking like you haven’t seen each other in months.

“The screen is right in front of you, Ji,” you tease him, once you realize his undivided attention is all over you, and not the movie he allegedly chose because he has been meaning to watch it for a while now.

“I know,” he simply replies, tilting his head while his loving eyes keep staring at you.

You turn your face to him, defeated. “You know, ever since we started dating I’ve never been able to watch a 2-hour movie complete”.

Jisung smiles fondly, letting out a soft scoff. “Am I really the only one to blame?”

“That’s not the point!,” you can feel the heat in your cheeks when he says so, but you try your best to remain calm. “The point is that you’re not paying attention to the movie, and it’s really good”.

“Oh, so you’d rather watch the movie?” his teasing tone tells you that you’re most definitely not going to keep on watching the movie, not even if you tried.

And although you’re not a fortune teller, the sudden touch of his hand against your inner thigh proves you right.

“If this is what you wanted since the beginning, why bother spending hours looking for something to watch?” you hum, spreading your legs underneath the comforter, welcoming Jisung’s touch.

He gives you a mischievous look before returning his attention to the screen, leaving his hand between your thighs without doing anything further. 

“You know, you’re right,” he sighs, cuddling into his spot. “We should watch the movie, we’re almost halfway through it”. 

His touch isn’t foreign to your body, but that doesn’t mean you’ve gotten used to it. Every time he touches you, it feels like it’s the first time he ever does so. It feels like a spark of electricity, one that ignites your desire in no time.

“Yeah right,” you chuckle, shifting your position on the couch to get close to him. “You’re saying so like you’re not going to forget about the movie in 5 minutes”.

“Do you want to bet?”

Typical Jisung. His fun and always-down-for-a-challenge personality is probably one of the things that made you fall in love with him profoundly, so you smile at him. “Bet what? That you can’t keep your hands off of me?”

“You can’t keep your hands off of me,” he mocks you, staring at you with loving and playful eyes. “I’m just too handsome for you not to crave me all the time”.

You roll your eyes, but you know he’s right. There’s something enticing about him, something that captured your attention ever since the day you met him for the first time. You can’t think of going on a day without kissing him, or touching him, or letting him fuck you in every room of your apartment.

“Okay, okay, I think we’re even,” you tell him, leaving a quick peck on the corners of his lips. “You crave me just as much as I crave you”.

Jisung pouts because of the quick kiss, his hand moving from your inner thigh to your hip. “So we can forget about the movie, then?”

You chuckle softly, brushing your nose against his as he leans over your for another kiss. “It’s not that good, anyways”.

“No?” the dark-haired purrs against your lips, kissing you deeply while his tongue grazes yours. He only stops the kiss to let you breathe for a couple of seconds, but kisses you again right after. “Is this better?”

“A hundred times better,” you smile, still kissing him while his hand gets lost in the hems of your clothing.  

Next thing you know, the comforter has been discarded to the floor and Jisung's running out of clothes to take off from you, only leaving you in your underwear. His hands touch and grope your body like it’s the first time he touches it, like he is just exploring it despite knowing it very well.

Jisung always touch you like he has been craving it for ages, dragging his palms over the sides of your body and pressing you against his to feel you even more, completely at all. He kisses and licks your neck and chest, letting out quiet moans in between, enjoying your smell and the way your skin welcomes his love bites by turning shades of pink and red.

You latch your fingers onto his dark, soft hair when he slides your underwear to the side, his fingers immediately offering you the much needed stimulation. You do the same, sneaking your hand underneath his underwear to find his erected cock that is already leaking, practically begging for your touch.

“You got one thing wrong, though,” he murmurs in between kisses, shifting his position on the couch just slightly so that you can comfortably masturbate him while he does the same for you. “I don’t think it’s possible for you to crave me more than I crave you”.

“Do you want to bet?” you chuckle against his lips, drowning a moan when you feel his cock throbbing inside your fist.

The more you jerk him off, the sloppier Jisung’s fingers get, and the more he stimulates your clit, the slower the rhythm on your wrist —it’s a neverending moment. You’re kissing while pleasing each other, moaning in between, losing the pace of your ministrations as you both chase your highs, murmuring sweet nothings under your breathes, interrumpting the kisses to look at each other with lustful eyes and furrowed eyebrows, parted lips and quiet whimpers.

It doesn’t take you long to come in each other’s hands, making a mess of yourselves and your underwear. You’re now dirty, and practically naked, so Jisung can’t lose the opportunity to change his mind about the movie.

“Do you want me to run a bath for us, baby?”

You’re sure you know how that is going to end, but you can’t refuse.

Felix: Words of Affirmation and Quality Time

You both have been waiting for this exact moment ever since the last time you saw each other. Which was two days ago, but it felt like ages.

Tonight, you’re supposed to attend a dinner party of one of your closest friends, but you’re really struggling to get out of bed. Especially because it's Felix who's holding you hostage between his arms, pouting and whimpering every time you remind him of the very little amount of time left to get ready.

“Let’s ditch the dinner,” he tells you, snuggling underneath the bedsheets and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Let’s stay like this all night. What do you say?”

You throw a pillow at him and get free from his hold. Truth be told, you'd rather accept his proposal, but you can't ditch on this very close friends of you, especially on such an important occasion as a birthday is.

“Come on, Lix,” you murmur, walking towards the bathroom mirror to do your makeup. It had been a wise decision to take a shower before cuddling each other during the afternoon, otherwise you'd be more in a rush than you already are.

You hear him groan, and curse, and groan again until he meets you at the bathroom, joining you in the sink to brush his teeth and do a little bit of makeup.

When he approaches you, you notice his semi-hard bulge underneath his grey sweatpants as he relentlessly tries to fix and conceal it. Perhaps the cuddling session got to him, and he would rather stay at home and fuck you on every position known to mankind than going out and missing the warmth of your body.

You understand him, though.

“What?” he chuckles, his deep voice startling you minutes after being shamelessly looking  at his crotch. “Did you change your mind?”

Hadn’t been this a very close and dear friend of yours, you’d cancel them on the spot. But you really want to go, so the plan is still on.

However, it doesn't really matter if you get there a little late, does it?

“No,” despite your answer, the way you close your cosmetics bag mid-through your makeup confuses Felix. “But we can have fun of our own before meeting our friends, don’t we?”

His eyes widen just a little. “We’re not going to make it on time if we start,” he tells you, tilting his head flirtatiously towards you.

“The point is to be there,” you reply, planting a wet kiss on his freckled cheek. “I don’t mind if it takes us a little while to get ready”.

Felix wraps his arms around your body and holds you close to him, forcing your lips against his in a peck that quickly, turns into a heated french kiss.

He kisses oh so deliciously. Never too rushed, and never too sloppy. He kisses you slowly and roughly, fucking your mouth with his tongue and biting your lower lip in between, pulling it just in the slightest to earn a hiss from you.

“You’re only getting me harder,” Felix murmurs when you interrupt the kiss to breathe. Judged by the strong pressure against your thigh, you can only assume he’s right. “I’m gonna need to jerk off or else I'm going to spend the entire dinner like this”.

“Jerk off?” you query with knitted eyebrows, your hand playing with the hems of his sweatpants and underwear, “I’m right here, Felix”.

“I don’t want to ruin your make up,” it’s not fully done yet, but he doesn’t want to discard your efforts in what you had by now. The eyeliner and mascara were surely going to make a mess —last time he fucked you, you both realize it wasn’t as waterproof as they claimed them to be. “And I don’t want to make a mess out of you either”.

“I don’t care,” you whisper, leaving a trail of kisses from his lips, along his jaw and into the crook of his neck, “let me help you”.

“I won’t take responsibility for anything,” Felix warns you while not being able to divert his gaze from your figure that's currently kneeling in front of him. He rests his body against the edge of the bathroom countertop, with his back facing the mirror, and guides his fingers to your freshly brushed hair, “so you better start thinking about a new outfit option”.  

“Got it,” you hum, lowering his clothes to release his erection that's throbbing and pulsating inside your fist, begging for you to pay attention to it. “What about that black dress you like so much, huh? Should I wear that one tonight?”

Felix closes his eyes and throws his head back when he reminds the piece of clothing you’re referring to. Not only that, but the memory paired with the feeling of your warm tongue swirling against the tip of his dick earns you a deep moan from him.

“Y-yes,” he hisses, forcing his head down and opening his eyes to admire the whole scene. “But don’t expect me to keep my hands off of you tonight if you do”.

You smile while smacking his cock against your tongue, tasting the salty precum from his tip. He looks beautiful from this angle —his slightly sloping face is commanding, and his normally gentle eyes are now dark with desire.

“Like that,” Felix encourages you, grabbing a fistful of your hair while forcing your head back, “do that again for me”.

You stick out your tongue further and slap his cock against it yet again, making sure to put on a full show for him. You let drool fall into your chest, staining the dress you’re currently wearing —and the one you were supposed to use at the birthday dinner tonight— but you don’t do anything about it because you know how much Felix likes that.

“Fuck,” he sighs, guiding the grip on your hair towards his dick, asking you to take him fully inside your mouth. You follow compliantly, because that’s exactly what you want too. “You’re so- fuck, so fucking beautiful”.

Felix has a way with words. He's very vocal at all times, especially when it comes to sex —not a day goes by without him praising and complimenting you. That’s just one of the many ways he shows his love towards you, and he knows how much you love it.

“Since when does your pretty mouth can take me so well?” You hold your breath when your nose hits his pubic bone, drooling all over his cock as he says so. After much fooling around with Felix, your body has grown to know him fairly well, “you’re making me feel so good”.

You take his cock out of your mouth and continue stroking him using your own drool as lubricant, offering him a delicious friction that has him gripping the edge of the bathroom counter until his knuckles turn pale.

Felix does his best to keep his eyes open, staring down at you while you suck on his cock eagerly, demanding something he can only give you. He’s just about to give it to you, but he wants to elongate the moment as much as he possibly can.

“Look at me,” he demands, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. “I want to come while looking at your face”.

You're definitely not the best looking right now, with all the drool spilling from your mouth and your eyeliner and mascara smudged, but Felix thinks you've never look prettier. He loves this side of you, the dirty one.

He caresses the side of your face with his thumb, wiping away a few tears running down your cheeks after taking all of his dick inside your mouth. “I love you so much,” Felix quietly moans, his words getting overshadowed by his heavy breathing, but still managing to reach your ears nonetheless. “I love you so- fuck, so fucking much”.

You smile against the tip of his dick and increase the movement of your wrist around him, getting yourself ready for his orgasm —an orgasm that doesn’t take too long to happen, shooting white ropes of cum onto your face and dress while he curses and whimpers your name under his breath.

After a couple of seconds of him overcoming his high, and you licking his arousal up until he’s clean, Felix helps you get up from the floor and kisses you just as deep as earlier, tasting himself off of your tongue.

“I’m fully convinced I want to marry you,” he chuckles against your lips, licking up some of his cum on your chin.

“Well, my hand looks a bit empty without a ring, you know?”

Seungmin: Acts of Service and Quality Time

When you called him, crying over the phone, Seungmin's heart was practically wrenched.

“I’m so- I’m so fucking stressed,” despite his efforts to try and talk to you, asking you what’s wrong, you just couldn’t begin to explain him that there was nothing, specifically, wrong. You just felt overworked and tired because of college, and you were having a hard time handling everything.

“Where are you right now?”

“College campus,” you tell him, trying your best to look collected while crying, sitting on a bench not too far from the main building. “I’m supposed to attend another class in like-”.

“I’m picking you up,” it's not a question nor a proposal. It's an affirmation, one that you're ready to argument.

“No, Seungmin. It’s okay, I-”

“You’re not okay, you’re crying,” his voice is filled with concern, and judged by the noises in the background you can tell he’s walking while on the phone. “Let me take care of you”.

You agree, but feel guilty immediately afterwards once you realize that he probably left everything he was doing just to meet you. You didn’t ask him to, but he showed up a couple of minutes later, picked you up and drove you to your apartment, staring at you from the side every now and then just to see if you were okay.

“I’m sorry,” you exhaled. “I overreacted, I don’t know why I cried like that and I- just wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t mean to worry you, it’s really not a big deal. I’m just stressed over college and that’s it”.

“You’re rambling,” he cuts you off, sweetly and delicately as he always does. It’s not that he doesn’t want to listen to you, because he always does, but he knows you have this habit of rambling whenever you’re anxious. “I drove all the way here because I wanted to be with you”.

“Yeah but-”

“Hamburger or pizza?”

“Huh?”

“What are you craving for dinner?” Seungmin has always said he is not very good with emotions, but you disagree —he might not be one to use words, but his actions always speak louder. “I’m craving pizza, but I don’t know if you’re down for that”.

“Pizza is good,” you reply. “But let me- I just want to apologize, really. I feel so fucking silly for throwing a tantrum like a child”.

“Child’s tantrums are way worse,” he interrupts you, but his voice is so soft and delicate that you can barely hear it over your rushed, disorganized speech.

“My point is that I’m sorry for crying on the phone like that. You didn’t need to do all this, and now I feel awful. It’s just college stress, nothing I can’t handle”.

“And my point is that I know you can handle everything, as you always do,” he reassures you, turning to face you at a red light, “but I want to help you handle everything, too. If you call me crying, I don’t see why I can’t rush out to you and take care of you, it doesn’t matter the reason behind those cries”.

There's a lump in your throat that threatens to make you cry again, but this time for all the opposite reasons. You’ve never felt this safe and loved until you met him.

“So pizza it is?”

He drives to your favorite pizza place and orders take out  —the sky is getting grey, and the wind is getting chill so he would rather have dinner at the coziness of your apartment. You both eat, unwind, talk about your day prior to meet each other, and enjoy the company that you desperately needed today.

“I think I’m going to take a shower,” you inform him after doing the dishes together. “I think it’ll help me sleep better”.

“Mind if I join you?” Seungmin asks you, drying his hands with a small, kitchen towel. “Both to shower and bed”.    

It’s not every day you get to sleep in the very same bed as him, so you agree without thinking it twice. Knowing you’ll get to spend the night with him makes you forget about all the daily stress already, so you’re grateful he’s sharing his time with you.

“Close your eyes,” he warns you with a smile and hands full with shampoo foam. You follow his order compliantly, and the next thing you feel are his hands massaging your scalp and hair with shampoo. “Close them!”

“I’m sorry,” you giggle, closing them immediately afterwards. “I just want to see you”.

“Let me rinse this off, alright?” he guides you underneath the shower faucet and starts wiping away all the foam, delicately caressing your face while the water rinses off a whole day of stress. “Don’t open them yet, or else it’ll sting”.

It’s practically impossible to ignore his touch and body pressing against yours throughout the whole interaction, and he probably notices this too —your nipples are hard, both from the stimulation and the feeling of warm water running through your body, and you can’t help but whimper every time they rub against his bare chest.

“There,” Seungmin murmurs, encouraging you to open your eyes. The first thing you see is his gaze underneath his dark, wet hair, followed by bright smile.  

You tip toe a bit to reach his pink lips, and you leave a wet peck in the corner of them. A quick, single kiss that makes Seungmin’s bright smile turn into a flirty, soft smirk.

He brushes a few wet strands of hair away from your face, and caresses your skin while tilting his head. You know he wants this, just as much as you want it too, but he probably felt too scared to make the first move, considering the wholesome moment you were sharing.

“Can I?” he’s leaning over you, with both of his hands cupping your cheeks and his lips dangerously close to yours.

“Please,” you nod, closing your eyes even before you felt him kissing you.

It starts of slow, but gets gradually deeper as he holds you tightly against him; the water is still running, but it feels ten times warmer now.

“I don’t want to ruin the moment like this,” you whisper, feeling your heart racing, “but I really want you to fuck me”.

“How could that ruin the moment?” Seungmin chuckles, guiding his hands to your ass.

“I don't know, you're being so sweet to me and all I can imagine is how it would feel to have you deep inside me right now,” you confess, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You don’t have to imagine it, you know?” his hands guide you to turn around on your feet, and he presses his chest against your back until you’re trapped between him and the wall. You can feel his erection against your ass, and that alone has your pussy clenching around nothing, wishing it was his cock you were clenching around. “If you want, I can fuck you right here”.

You feel him kissing and nibbling at the skin on your shoulders and neck, and you immediately melt between his arms, “I want you”.

You can’t see him but, once he guides his hand to your core and feels your wetness, the soft scoff he lets out tells you he’s probably amused by your neediness. “You’re all ready for me, hm?”

You press your cheek against the cold, wall tiles, and arch your back a bit more —just enough to allow him a better access to your pussy. He places one hand on your hip, while the other guides the tip of his cock to your cunt, teasing your folds and rubbing it against your clit.

“Please fuck me,” you whine, laying both of your palms flat against the white tiles.

“Take a deep breath for me,” he latches his lips to your neck and the next thing you feel is a sudden stretch between your legs. You let out a painful moan, as you’re definitely not used to have him fucking you while standing.

It’s a challenge, really. The second you felt him entering you, your legs threatened to give up on your weight.

“Don’t worry,” Seungmin hisses once he bottoms out, feeling your walls hugging him tightly. He can feel how tense you are, trying hard to hold on to anything to prevent you from falling, “I’ll hold you tight, won’t let go of you, okay?”

You nod, barely frantically, and relax on the spot. You trust him Seungmin wholeheartedly, so you get completely carried away by the feeling of his cock hitting the right spot inside your pussy.

He reaches his hand forward, into the small space between your abdomen and the wall, and guides his fingers towards your clit, rubbing it gently while fucking you.

“J-just like that,” you moan. “I’m- I’m getting close”.

“Yeah?,” Seungmin purrs, managing to keep the pace between his thrusts and his fingers. “Come for me, then”.

You blame it on all the time you spent without being able to fuck with him because of your schedules, but truth is that Seungmin always makes you come really fast. He knows your body well enough by now, and he pleases you like no one has before. And could he not be? If he has spent hours and hours touching you, eating you out and fucking you so he can be the best at pleasing you.

“Seungmin,” you gasp, feeling your legs shaking and your mind dizzy. If you let go, you’re sure your face is going to meet the floor.

But, as if he could read your mind, he wraps his arm around you and holds you right in place, giving you all the support you needed. “Now,” he moans, “you can come”.

You finally let go between his arms, pressing your face against the wall while Seungmin takes care of everything —from helping you ride your high, to keep you standing on your feet.

He holds you while you overcome your orgasm, feeling your heart beats and the way you breath. He is close to coming as well, but you’re always his priority in moments like this.

Always so caring and sweet.  

Jeongin: Physical Touch and Gifts

[19:28, You: I’m here]

[19:28, You: Where are you?]

You stare at the big, white letters on top of the entrance of the store, and you can begin to guess what this urgent meeting is all about. It’s not the first time you visit it, and it is most definitely not going to be the last, you think.

There are a couple of people inside, people who make you feel as if you’re underdressed to go jewelry shopping —not that you had clothes to match the ocassion, but you didn’t expect to end your day standing outside one of Seoul’s most expensive stores.

“Hey!” Jeongin greets you from inside, smiling widely once he spots you. He walks towards you and the brightness in his eyes tells you that he's most definitely excited about something.

“What is it?” you immeditaly asked, catching his smile.

“I stopped by and I wanted to gift you something,” he grabs your hand and guides you inside the store, following a path and turning around every other table until you reach the jewels in exhibition he’s excited about, “I didn’t know which one you liked best, and I tried to take a picture of them but the camera didn’t make them any justice”.

“What’s the occasion?”

“You,” Jeongin tilts his head. “You’re the most beautiful woman I know, and these are the most beautiful necklaces I’ve seen in my entire life. Is only fair for you to have them”.

“I don’t- These are too expensive,” you furrow your eyebrows, not knowing the final price of each and confident you're better off without that information.

“So?”

“I can’t accept one,” you shake your head. Your eyes encounter an emerald and diamond necklace that’s too stunning it caught your attention —Jeongin has good taste, you have to give him that.

But said taste it’s also very expensive, so you’re not sure that works out.

“What about all of them?”

Your eyes widen in shock, and you playfully hit him in the arm, “you’re so unserious!”

“I mean it,” the dark-haired smiles, tilting his head at you. “Either you pick the one you like the most, or I’ll buy all of them for you”.

Jeongin never gifts you things expecting anything in return —if anything, the only thing he expects when he buys you jewelry, or clothes, or anything, is that you put them to use.

You’re still not used to this kind of love language, but he tries everything to make you feel comfortable.

“Are you sure?” you hesitate, and he nods eagerly, wondering which one is the one you like best. “That one, the one with the emerald”.

“Pretty,” he smiles, “just like you”.

He takes care of the bill, and you keep on staring at the rest of the jewelry exhibited around the store. To be honest, you’re curious about the price, but you’d rather stay ignorant than feeling guilty about the money he spends on you.

Then, Jeongin sees you admiring a bracelet for quite some time, and he makes a mental note to go back and buy it for you on the next occasion. He knows love can be expressed in many, many ways, but a gift is never out of place.

“Let’s go back to my place, yeah?” he asks you, grabbing your hand as you walk through the mall. “I can pick up dinner and we can spend the night together, what do you say?”

“Sounds good to me,” you smile, trying to keep up the pace with his long legs.

Once you get home, and you unwind together, Jeongin brings the small, white bag with the red, velvet box inside it. You saw the necklace on your way to his apartment, but you didn’t try it on.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, admiring the shine of it from every angle. “I’m not- sure how to style it”.

“Pretty sure you’ll find a way,” Jeongin smiles with his eyes fixed on the jewel. “You make everything look pretty”.

“Thank you,” your gaze meets his, and you can tell how sincere and genuine he is. Your heart skips a bit when you spot that spark in his eyes again, and your curiosity makes you question him once again. “What?”

“Let me put it on you,” he tells you, standing up from the dinner table and walking towards you, taking away the velvet box off of your hands, “come here”.

You follow him into his room, that’s barely illuminated because of the street lights and a small lamp on top of his nightstand. You stand in front of a big, full-length mirror, and he stands right behind you, holding the necklace with one of his hands while he makes eye contact with you through the mirror.

“Wait, just let me-,” he motions for you fix your hair out of the way, and once you’re done he he places the necklace around you. “There”.

The necklace is very, very pretty on you. So pretty that, for a minute, you completely forget about the outfit you’re wearing, and how it doesn’t match Jeongin’s gift at all.

“Thank you,” you chant again, caressing the jewel as you watch it become your most prized possession. “It’s just- beautiful. I don’t want to take it off, ever”.

“Then don’t,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on your naked shoulder. “Wear it all the time, let everyone know who gave it to you”.

You turn around on your feet and wrap your arms around his neck with a cheeky smile. “What for?”

“So everyone can know you’re mine,” his siren eyes are staring deep into yours, and that alone is enough to arouse you. Not only that, but the implied possessiveness under these kind of gifts is making you feel some kind of way.

“Everyone knows I am yours already,” you whisper, leaning in for a kiss. “I don’t need to wear a necklace for that”.

“But it’s fun, isn’t it?” Jeongin asks you, “everytime you feel the necklace around your neck, you can think of those times where my hands have done the job”.

You feel the heat rising up to your cheeks almost immediately, and you wonder if he can tell.

“The necklace is very pretty, but you like my hands way more, don’t you?” again, the filthy question makes you a bit timid, but you still nod.

“See? I don’t need expensive jewels to be happy,” you chuckle softly, planting a quick kiss on his lips. He responds the kiss with one much more steamy, one that actually makes you gasp for air in between.

“So what is it that you need, hm?” he teases you, cupping either side of your face with his big hands.

“You know what,” the complicit smile on your lips is the consent Jeongin needs to guide his hand from your face to your neck, squeezing it slightly as he applies pressure to the sides of it. The harder he chokes you, the wider you smile.

“Is this enough to make you happy?” judged by his cold gaze, and the deeper tone of his voice, you know you have Jeongin exactly where you want him.

“I’m missing something else,” you quietly murmur, just as much as his grip around your neck allows you to. “Can you give it to me?”

“What is it that you’re missing?” he asks you, a twisted smile peeking through the corners of his lips, “tell me, and I’ll give it to you”.

Jeongin knows exactly what you’re talking about, and what you’re referring to, but he menas every word he says. If there’s something you’re missing, he’d travel the whole world just to give it to you. If there’s something you want, all you have to do is ask.

“Your cock,” you finally tell him.

In the blink of an eye, you’re both naked in his bed and he’s hovering over you, positioning himself between your legs while he bites his bottom lip. You’re still wearing the necklace, as a request for him, and it feels somewhat heavy on your chest. It will probably weight heavy from now on, everytime you wear it, because it will remind you of how good of a lover Jeongin is to you.

“It looks so good on you,” he hisses, coating the tip of his cock with your slick. You’re so slippery, and warm, and inviting that he can’t spend another second without being buried deep inside your pussy. “You- look so good like this, with your legs spread for me”.

You moan at his words, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing him to bottom out inside you, desperately wanting to feel all of himself.

“F-fuck”.

“So tight,” Jeongin whispers, closing his eyes while assimilating the stimulation your body provides.

He starts off slow and only goes rougher once he’s sure you’re ready for it. He wraps his hand around your neck and chokes you while fucking your pussy, admiring the diamond resting on top of your bouncing breasts.

The necklace is even prettier like this, he thinks.

“Right there,” you gasp, closing your eyes shut while your orgasm hits you unexpectedly. You writhe underneath him, digging your nails on his biceps. He fucks you even faster through your orgasm, making you spill a tear or two —not only he is a good lover, but he fucks oh, so well too.

You moan his name over and over again, thanking him in between. The ravages of your high are hitting you, as well as the painful overstimulation, but you don’t want him to stop. You want him to come inside you, to fill you up until he’s leaking out; however Jeongin has other plans in mind.

“Can I- come, on you?”

You’re not sure what he means, as he usually finishes inside you, but you still nod desperately, wanting whatever it is that he wants.

So he thrusts himself inside you a couple of times before pulling out, kneeling over you while stroking his cock and driving himself to his orgasm. You stare at him with dreamy eyes, aroused by the heavenly sight he’s offering you —there’s something enticing about his facial features when he comes, how they sharpen and his eyes get pitch black.

“Fuck,”  he curses under his breath as he comes over your breasts, spilling his hot cum all over them and the necklace.

You didn’t understand his petition until now, that you realize the diamond is covered with his arousal, glistening even brighter under the dim lights of his room.

“You made a mess,” you chuckle, staring at your tits.

“I just wanted to make sure you're going to remember who gave you this”.

[cuteskunkz]

╭──────────.★..─╮

One Night With You

╰─..★.──────────╯

(Mike Schmidt x Reader)

Summary~ Mike is a very touch starved man. He spends all his nights at work and the daytime caring for Abby if not sleeping. He hadn't been with a girl since his junior year, making him feel like a total loser. The amount of times where Mike went back and forth with his inner thoughts, convincing himself that he was the problem was getting pretty intense and it was clear that he just needed a night out to clear his mind and prove those thoughts wrong.

You've been a "dancer" for the past few months at the downtown strip club, just trying to make ends meet. There was a tough competition working against you. You were new to this line of work whereas the other girls had been in the game for a while now, but you kept pushing on desperately. How else were you going to make rent or keep the lights on? The nights were slow and building a consistent flow of clientele proved itself to be a challenge, that is until one night when you meet a new guy outside of the nightclub.

Tags~ Stripper reader, Mike is a SIMP!!!, lowkey enemies to lovers but not really, no smut (YET...)

Note~ This took me much longer than I thought since I've been super burnt out of writing lately, but I hope you guys enjoy! As always if there's anything in particular you would like to see in chapter 2, please lemme know

⊱✿⊰

Mike felt confused with the lack of responsibilities and errands to run on this warm summer night. Abby was off at a sleepover and Steve finally hired a second night shift worker, leaving him all alone with his reoccurring self doubt introspections. Dude gets one night for himself and simply cannot think of a single thing to do to pass the time. He laid there in his bed tossing and turning unable to fall asleep. He jolts up feeling frustrated with himself, "Ughh... just fall asleep already bro..." He shifts around in his bed and grunts, "I can't do this-". He sits up and sulks his way into the living room, plopping down on the couch. Mike pulls out his phone and begins to scroll.

He isn't really the social media type but had made an anonymous instagram account a while ago for mindlessly scrolling. After what seemed like hours, Mike stumbles across a video of you. You were practicing a routine for the club, twirling and moving seductively. Mike felt himself grow larger in his pants and put the phone down in shock. He stares up at the ceiling in disbelief, damn you really got him feeling this type of way this quickly? He looks down at his lap and feels helpless. He wrestles with his feelings for a while and ultimately picks his phone back up to look more into you.

He clicks on your account and "researches" a bit. There's multiple videos of you practicing, photos of your skimpy outfits, and the most captivating selfies he's ever seen. One of your posts has a location tagged in the top corner, "Deja Vu Showgirls". He looks further into the club, finding that it's not too far from the pizzeria. "Fuck it. Why not..." he whispers to himself. Mike ensures he's well groomed for the occasion. if you're there he wants make a good impression. He showers, dresses in the best outfit he can come up with, and slaps some product in his hair. He finally felt content with his appearance and hopped in the car.

You weren't surprised to see another night play out typically. Maybe 2 or 3 cheap lap dances and a couple short sets up on the stage for less than 50 bucks. This clearly isn't working for you, at this point you've spent more on outfits and shoes than you've made while working here. An older gentleman walks up to you reeking of alcohol and cheap cologne, you couldn't help but gulp at the thought of providing your services for him. Yeah you were a stripper but you still had standards that made doing your job successfully hard at times.

"Well aren't you something?" he slurs while damn near tipping over from intoxication. You sigh and snap into your persona. "I'd hope so, this outfit ain't cheap y'know!" you reply in a flirtatious tone. You grab him by the hand and lead him to a booth, preparing for the worst. He starts groping on your sides which makes you shudder. Maybe this place isn't for you after all. "H-hands off baby.... Use your eyes and focus on me" you redirect with confidence. Times like these made you wish someone could just scoop you off your feet and save you.

He drives to the location with his heart pounding out of his chest. He'd never been to strip club before so Mike felt nervous even making his way closer to where you have the slightest chance of being at. He pulled into the parking lot and shut his car off abruptly, taking deep breaths to calm his nerves. "What if she isn't here? I don't even know the girl why am I acting so fuckin' weird about this.... I really need to get out of the house more" he thinks to himself while gripping onto the steering wheel. After a few mental pep talks to himself, he finally musters up the courage to get out and make his way in.

Just as he goes to push the door to the club open, you storm out with eyes welling with tears. Mike stumbles back a bit not wanting to startle you. You're holding your pricey Pleaser heels in hand, walking barefoot and trying your best to keep it together. All you want is to curl up into a ball and quit at life. You thought that creepy dude would cheap out on a dance, not grope and hurl insulting names at you for rejecting his advances! You look up from the ground and lock eyes with a man you've never seen before. He's cute... too cute to be wasting his time at some dingy place like this.

"Can I help you?" you snap at him with a shaky voice. It was hard not to notice the concerned look on his face. "No I'm-" he stutters before you promptly cut him off. "Leave me the fuck alone then." His face goes pale hearing you say this, he didn't even get a chance to meet you yet and he feels as if he already blew it. You pace towards your car and pop the trunk, filling it with the all the contents of your locker. You pick a T-shirt out of your duffle bag and drape it over your revealing outfit. His presence is burning a hole into your back so you swiftly turn around to meet his gaze.

He walks over slow and bashfully. There's a pink tint to his cheeks and he can't keep his hands still out of anxiousness. "Dude are you good?" you ask. He looks as if he's going to break a sweat, "Yeah... I'm good. Are you though? You looked pretty shaken up back there." You assumed he was just another guy looking to get lucky with a dancer after a shift change. "Look, if you want to get some action, walk your ass into the club. I'm not who you're looking for" you reply. His stomach drops hearing your voice. It was one thing to see you for the first time, but to hear your voice even if it be out of anger made Mikes head spin. He didn't want to sound like a complete creep stalking you out to your job for a closer look but you were exactly who he wanted.

"That's not why I'm here. Fuck- look... To be totally honest, I'm not a strip club type of dude. I just- I saw a video of you on instagram and I was- y'know... impressed by your talent and beauty." Typical response coming from a man trying to bring a stripper home for the night you think to yourself. "I'm not shocked by your reaction. You realize that's what I hear like- 10 times a night, right?" you say with a sarcastic tone. He seemed a bit more genuine with his words than the others but men will do and say anything when they're in need of a quick fuck. "Not that type of girl sir. Try one of those cheap hookers down the road" you point down the street and close the trunk.

"Please... I know how this sounds, believe me I know how dudes are but-" He sighs and continues, "But I don't have a lot of experience with girls so- I thought coming here... to meet someone new would help" he says looking very serious, almost to the point of desperation. If he weren't so damn handsome you'd turn him down in a heartbeat but something in you is screaming to give him a chance. He seems to be telling the truth and damn is he starting to fluster you with the whole innocent act. "Fine. I'll give you my number but don't you dare think about blowing my phone up." You scribble your phone number into his palm with a pen from your bag and blow him a kiss while getting in your car to drive away.

Mike smirks and waves at you, watching you drive off into the distance. "That was easier than I expected...huh..." he whispers. He gets back into his car and texts you, already so eager to see you again. The message reads:

Hey it's Mike, the guy from earlier. You doing anything tonight? I could take us out to a bar or something? :)

His cheeks start to blush again from imagining you two hanging out. He desperately craves a deeper connection with you but doesn't want to come off as too interested off the bat, it could scare you off for all he knows! His phone dings and he reads it:

Shitttt I'm free as long as you're gonna be on your very best behavior!!

⊱✿⊰

*Read part 2 and part 3 here!*

It might take me a bit to get part two posted, but I'll try to give you guys as many updates as possible!!! Keep in mind I am a new writer. This is my third fic put out so far :))

[wabatle]

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Happy Birthday Reo!

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Synopsis: spending Reo's birthday with him!

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Warnings: None!

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Contains: Might be implied fem!reader but mostly gn!reader, fluff, some fluff, and more fluff.

𓆩⚝𓆪 — A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SCRUNKLY SPLOINKLE BABYGIRL BEAUTIFUL AMAZING REO!!!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH QOAIRKAIUS

Today is your boyfriend’s birthday.

You've been trying to come up with what to do for weeks now, simply because he's so rich, you couldn't think of what to get him.

Slowly waking up, Reo immediately noticed the lack of your warmth beside him, as you had already gotten up. Sleepily, he got out of bed to find you, just as you were walking back into the bedroom.

“Ah. Good morning, gorgeous.” He wrapped his arms around you.

“Good morning, love.” You replied, hugging him back.

“What's the plan for today?” He asked.

“That's for you to find out,” you smiled, “now go get ready. I have a lot of things I want to do today.”

“‘Kay.” He kissed your cheek, heading to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he finished quickly.

“You ready?” You asked, walking over to him.

“Yeah.” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You took his hand and led him out the door.

“Now will you tell me what the plan is?” He asked.

“Nope! You just have to wait and see.”

He sighed, and then smiled. “Oh, I see how it is.” He smirked.

“Well, here's one of the first places I thought we could go.” You pointed to an amusement park.

“Woah.”

“Come on!” You pulled his hand. “Let's go!”

After a little while of running around, you decided to play some of the games there.

“Hey, you think I can win a fish?” You asked, pointing to a fish bowl toss game.

“I bet you could,” he said, admiration deep in his tone, “my (name) can do anything.”

Your face reddened, but you shrugged it off with a scoff and an eye roll. “You bet I can.”

After multiple tries, you still couldn’t make it. “Ugh…”

Reo laughed. “Let me try.”

His first fucking try, he won a fish.

“Oh my god.”

“Did you want this?” He asked sarcastically, offering you the fish.

“Shut up.” You grumbled.

Somehow, along the way, Reo had lost the fish by giving it away to a kid that was struggling more than you were.

“Why are you so good at everything, Reo?”

He laughed. “I don’t know. Natural talent, I guess.”

You rolled your eyes. “Uh-huh.” “Are you really getting salty over that?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Not at all. No way. Couldn’t be me.” You said sarcastically.

“Okay, well, I know how to cheer you up!” He said, grabbing your hand. “Let’s go check out some of the rides!”

You somehow managed to go on every single ride the park had to offer, within four hours. You had to admit, it was mostly the way Reo paid your way to the front of the line, with fast passes and other things. Finally, it was time for the final rollercoaster, the one that was said to be the most extreme.

“Ah…” You looked up at the tracks.

“What, you getting cold feet now? When we're right here?”

“N–no! Okay, yeah. So what?”

Reo laughed. “Okay, come on, let's get in line.”

He took your hand, his grip gentle as he felt your hand shaking. “Are you really that scared?”

“A little.”

“Don't worry, it'll be fine!” He smiled. “Besides, maybe you'll be like those people in the viral videos who faint on rides!” He said, pointing a finger.

“Not helping.”

He laughed again. “Sorry.”

Moments later, you were strapped into your cart.

“I'm so scared!” You finally confessed.

“Want me to hold your hand?” He asked, offering you his hand.

You nodded and put your hand into his.

The coaster slowly started making its incline.

“Oh, come on! Can't we just get this over with so I can stop shaking?!” You cried.

Just as it reached the top, you breathed in, preparing for the fall.

Then, the cart plunged, and all you could hear was the sounds of people screaming and the wind hitting your ears. Quickly, you realized, this wasn't as scary as you thought it was gonna be.

“Reo!” You called over the wind. “This is fun!” You smiled. And god, somehow you were able to look even more gorgeous, even when he could barely see your face through your hair. Reo felt a blush creeping at his cheeks.

“I'm glad!” He called back.

Later, you started making your way towards the exit, the evening air crisp. “Well, we've been here for long enough. Ready to go?” You asked.

“Sure.” Reo replied.

“You can pick where we go for dinner.” You said.

“‘Kay. Thanks.”

Obviously, you ended up going to an expensive restaurant.

“Get whatever you like,” Reo began, “I'm paying, after all.”

“Uh-huh.” You shrugged, checking out the menu. “Let me guess. Steak?”

“You guessed it.” He winked at you. “What're you getting?”

“Uh, I'm thinking either this, this, or this.” You pointed to things on the menu.

“Get that one. That one's really good.” He told you.

“If you say so.”

Once your food arrived, you started eating (obviously).

“Y’know, babe, I love spending time with you like this. We should do it more.” He smiled.

“Yeah. But if you want to, then you have to cut down on the time you spend with Nagi.”

“Ah, fine.” He said, feigning distress.

“Anything for my love.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, so you took another bite. Reo took notice of this, and smiled to himself.

After paying the bill, you walked outside.

“So, anything else you want to do tonight?” Reo asked.

“Yeah, one more thing.” You replied. You removed a small box from your pocket. “Okay, so. I know that you're rich and are fully capable of getting whatever you want for yourself, no matter what it is. So, I figured I would make something for you. Something that you couldn't buy because it's special from me.”

Reo smiled sincerely.

“Uh, here.” You handed him the box, smiling nervously.

He opened it, revealing a handmade, heart shaped pin with your eye color on it.

“I made one for myself, too.” You pulled out your own heart shaped pin, with Reo's purple eye color on it.

“(Name)…” Reo hugged you. “I love it. I love it so much. And I love you.”

“I love you too, Reo. Happy birthday.” You kissed him, but as soon as you stepped back Reo just pulled you back in.

Reo proudly wears his pin on his chest every day.

𓆩⚝𓆪 — thank you for reading!

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Taglist (ask 2 be added): @mariaace

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Blue Lock masterlist || masterlist

[deebris]

Guilty

Satoru Gojo x wife reader

Synopsis: Your husband never put a drop of alcohol in his mouth, and that was one of the things that made you give him a chance in the past due to family traumas that you carried because of it. But after years of relationship, one day he just surprises you by coming home late at night and out of his mind.

Warnings: anxiety; guilt issues; trauma with alcohol; harassment; some swearing; violence; anguish; Gojo's behavior is disgusting; Nanami is a friend.

Word count: 4.2k

I have to say that I really like angsty scenarios with couples. Don't judge me.

The clock on the living room shelf showed that it was already midnight. You stared at the slowly moving hands of the clock for a few seconds, and this only fueled your anguish. You asked yourself where the hell your husband was, so you pulled the thin blanket you brought to wrap yourself even tighter while you waited for him on the couch.

The plate with dinner food that you kept for him on the table was already cold and the feeling of loneliness made you uncomfortable. It had been a little over an hour since you had sent some messages to Satoru's cell phone, but they were not even received. Intrusive thoughts began to surface, contemplating the scenarios that could have happened to him, and they were all the result of the intense worry you felt.

He never stayed out this late without warning, and as you got up to look out the front window in hopes of seeing him arriving, your cell phone screen lit up and the typical sound of notifications vibrated on the table next to the armchair.

"Good night. Sorry for the inconvenience. We sent Gojo home in a taxi, he was in no condition to return on his own. Please let me know when he arrives so we know everything is okay."

- Kento

The message was a little confusing for you. Nanami spoke in the plural in a part of the message and did not clarify what exactly had happened. It was as if he assumed you knew something beforehand, but obviously you were lost trying to understand between the lines.

Besides, you would never expect to receive a text from him at this time of night, even after years of being friends. You wanted to extend that chat and clear up all your doubts, but you remembered that Satoru was coming home and could do that, so you just thanked him politely.

As you made a mental reminder to text Nanami when Satoru was home, coincidentally, a car's headlights illuminated the windows of your house. Most of the lights in the rooms were off, as you didn’t want to attract the attention of the neighborhood so late with the lights on.

"He's home. Thanks again, dear."

You informed him as requested and left the device back in its previous place to wait for the man near the front door. You heard the car tires go away and someone take heavy steps on the wooden planks of the porch.

Totally against the Gojo clan, you and your husband have moved to a mid-sized property in one of the regions of Tokyo. Honestly, you don't know if you could bear spending your days next to the old men and the numerous servants controlling your routine.

The door opens and you notice him struggling to find the light switch in the room, so you walk over and turn on the light. When he finally managed to see what was around him, Satoru opened his eyes that were half closed a little and looked at you.

"Hey, my beautiful wife." His voice was heavy, as if he needed a lot of effort to speak properly. He looked tired, and didn't have his usual playful demeanor. You were irritated and noticed that he hadn't closed the door yet, so you had to move a little closer to where he was to reach the door and lock it, but Gojo took advantage to put his face in your neck.

It was at that moment that you smelled the alcohol coming from his mouth. And it wasn't just any smell, it was very intense. Disgusted by the drink you immediately pulled away.

Gojo didn't drink, and after finding out years ago why you hated it so much, he promised he would never touch a single drop of alcohol. He could never do that to you. So why did he smell so bad now? You didn't want to believe that your sweet, handsome husband had come home drunk. Immediately the dark memories of your childhood and adolescence emerged and you froze in place.

"Satoru, what is this?" You asked alteredly, no longer knowing if you felt anger, fear or worry. Or maybe you should feel a mix of everything.

"What do you mean?" He was beside himself, he didn't even seem to know where each room was. Did he even know he was home?

"You drank?!" It wasn't necessary to ask, but you still did. You decided to do something else to not stress yourself out even more and walked away from him. You were warming up the plate on the table, as you normally would on days when he gets home a little late because of work. Then a light bulb went off in your head. Did you spend hours worrying while he was partying, drinking and having fun  until late at night? He didn't even warn you or give any kind of satisfaction, and you just didn't feel worse because you knew Nanami was with him.

"Where were you?!" you turned around, this time making your angry tone clear so he could notice your mood.

"In a bar." His response was direct and smooth. You would never dream that he would come home like this, and even more so that he would admit what he did so easily. Had he forgotten his promise or did he simply not care anymore?

"Why?" Your question seemed to have made Satoru reflect for a while, or maybe he just couldn't think straight when he was so drunk. He wasn't completely conscious, but he could understand some parts of things.

Why had he been drinking? He had already heard from many people that alcohol helped them forget their problems, that distorted senses would make people happier. Gojo just wanted to get rid of the Jujutsu world for a bit, he just wanted to pretend for a moment that he was an ordinary citizen, one of those people who never dreamed of what a curse was. But he wasn't able to formulate that answer for you right now.

"Ah, come on, my love. There's no need to worry so much." he tried to distract you, or perhaps distract himself from the regret. He didn't know exactly how he felt, because the anguish he had in his chest before stepping into that bar was still there, but accompanied by drunkenness. "It was just a few shots." he said as he left the living room and walked over to you in the integrated dining room. He analyzed your silhouette with blurred vision and his heartbeat quickened a little more, he just didn't understand why exactly. He still had the desire to forget something; he wanted to forget everything and the drink didn't help him at all. The only thing it managed to do was confuse him.

Gojo wanted to numb his mind, and he was trying to do that through his body. Forcing himself to feel different things through lust.

You were his safe haven, but why didn't he look for you this time like he normally did? He didn't want to throw the burden of his sorcerer life onto his wife, he tried to follow an alternative path, but it didn't work. He needed you, needed to deceive himself in your embrace. He wanted to imagine that his world revolved only around you and that there was no one else on the Earth. He needed your touch as a last resort to expel the mental torture in his mind caused by his work.

He tried to get close to your neck again and you rejected him like before. He was confused, why were you acting like that? You never refused his touch, why this reaction now?

"You should take a shower. Seriously, Toru." You called him by his nickname, trying to convince him to jump into the freezing water. Was he dirty? He wondered. Was that why? Satoru knew well your requirement to keep the house clean and street clothes away from the furniture, as well as the shoes that should remain at the entrance. But that was the least of his worries now. He just wanted you, he needed to have you.

"I just need a hug from you." He insisted again and wrapped his arms around your form. He wanted to beg you, if necessary he would kneel, but luckily for him, this time you didn't move away. Still drunk and with his head spinning, he put his nose in your hair and sucked in air. That wonderful smell of the new shampoo you bought brought comfort, making him travel through sweet memories when he realized it smelled like honey.

But after a while, he seemed to want something different. His touch no longer seemed innocent and Satoru began trailing kisses from your temple to your shoulders. He moved his arms from your back and began sliding them around your waist, feeling the curves of your ribs and hips.

"Stop, Satoru." You groaned at the disgusting smell coming from him. He was going to make you smelly and rub his saliva all over your body. You hated that smell, and he knew it. He knew that.

"Why are you being so mean?" He whimpered, and you weren't offended by his accusation, understanding he was stunned. And when you felt like that was enough, trying to free yourself from his grip, he's hands around you became firmer, trying to keep you closer to him.

"I told you to go take a shower, Satoru. Stop." He completely ignored you and started trying to lower the straps of your nightgown while he continuing to kiss the area of ​​your neck and shoulders. The nightgown was light and would slide out easily, so you had to fight against his hands to stop him, but his grip was too strong. While you resisted his movements on the top of your clothing, one of his hands tried to lift the bottom up and expose your panties. Your body shivered with fear at the feel of his member, as your husband forced his hips into yours.

He couldn't think straight, wanting only to satisfy the intense desire to have you "Stop it!" it was too much for you. Bad memories were already flooding your mind since you found out he had been drinking, and now your husband was behaving like a maniac. "I told you to stop it, Gojo!" You screamed as you reached your limit, and unable to bear the touch any longer, you abruptly pulled away from him, ripping one of the straps of your clothes in the process as he wouldn't let go at all. You picked up the plate of cold food from the table and threw it at his head in a desperate attempt to stop him.

The object hit Satoru's head intact and only broke as soon as it fell to the ground, shattering into shards and scattering pieces of rice and vegetables everywhere. You hadn't even noticed the tears running down your face before, your legs were wobbly from nervousness and you didn't pay much attention to Gojo curled up on the floor trying to contain the pain of the blow. You desperately ran to get your cell phone and stared at Nanami's profile in the list of recent conversations, deciding to call him in fear that Satoru would try something again.

Climbing the stairs in terror, you locked the door to your shared room, waiting hopefully for him to answer. It was only after 5 beeps that you heard Kento's voice.

"Hello?" He called your name and tensed as he heard some of your sobs over the line. You didn't say anything for a while, embarrassed and thinking about what you would say. "Everything is fine?"

You shook your head no, but then remembered that he couldn't see you. "N-no." Your voice cracked and you tried to wipe away the tears to compose yourself. You didn't want to admit that you were scared of your husband, but you also didn't want to face him alone right now.

Patiently your friend waited while you remained silent. He was worried, but he couldn't help unless you spoke. Meanwhile, your intrusive thoughts had returned. The anxiety inside your chest began to work intensely, and you couldn't stop asking: wasn't your attitude exaggerated? Weren't you making a storm in a teacup? Was it really necessary to have called Nanami?

"Do you want me to go there?" After a long time he spoke again waking you up. He felt that something was very wrong.

"Please." You cried out, he felt it in your tone. So without wasting any more time, he ended the call to come to you.

After minutes of driving, he arrived at the residence and knocked on the front door. After a long time, he realized that no one would come to answer, so he tested the handle and the door was open. He noticed the tense atmosphere and as he entered the house a little further and then he saw his white-haired friend sitting on the floor.

Gojo looked distressed, his hands angrily gripping clumps of hair as his back rested against the counter doors. Observing a little more, he noticed the dirty floor with shards of broken glass scattered around. The pieces reached distant places, indicating that the fall had a great impact.

"Were you the one who did this?" He asked bluntly, wishing in his heart that the two of you were okay, that everything was just an accident. It wasn't necessary to be very smart to notice that you had been arguing.

Gojo directed a pointed look at the blonde next to him, looking much more sober than the last time they had seen each other. "No." Gojo stated and then thought some more about what had happened. He replayed in his head you throwing the plate to defend yourself, from him. "Yes..."

"Where is she?" Gojo didn't like his friend's tone. It made him feel a thousand times worse, like a monster. Had you called him here? Were you really that scared of him? "I believe upstairs." He responded bitterly, the words clumping in his throat. Gojo didn't even have the courage to look for you to apologize, still not believing in his own behavior. The slam of the plate seemed to have broken some kind of spell, and he was more rational now.

Nanami ignored her friend and went upstairs and called out to you in the hallway. He didn't get a response, but decided to head to the most obvious option, your room. He knew a good part of your house, having been insistently invited by Gojo many times in the past. Hearing a muffled cries, he knocked on the wood.

"It's me. Kento." he heard your hurried footsteps and a key turning in the door, then you appeared. He noticed your disheveled state. You were a mess, with red eyes and trembling lips. He didn't want to pay any more attention to you than necessary, briefly noticing your nightdress being a little too intimate. He ignored that part and focused on your face, genuinely concerned.

"Thank you for coming." You hugged him and he didn't quite know how to return the gesture, but you didn't mind, because you knew it was just his way. You left the door open and invited him in for a bit.

As you went to sit on the bed again, Nanami saw a wool coat resting on a chair and gently picked up the piece. He walked over to your bed and positioned himself in front of you. He bent down to the same height as you and respectfully slid the slightly too big coat off your shoulders. He allowed you to grab the piece to cover the larger neckline created by the dropped strap, adjusting it in the best possible way. Then you noticed that the fabric wasn't big enough to cover your thighs and with one hand you stretched the hem of the nightgown to hide as much of that area as possible, feeling stupid when you finally became aware of how indecent you were.

"I'm sorry, I didn't notice." You whispered embarrassed.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" He ignored your apology, bringing the focus of the conversation to what really matters. You thought for a while, still not knowing how to handle the question.

"Did you see him down there?" You were suddenly curious to know how your husband had reacted after you left. Nanami nodded after your question. "And how was he?"

"Shaken up." His response made you think. You had done this to him, maybe it was just your imagination. Satoru was a caring husband, he was just trying to be affectionate with you, wasn't he? Some thicker tears began to leak from your eyes again and you immediately wiped them away with your hands.

"I-I don't really know-" you started to speak to answer the question he had asked, but stopped yourself, pondering whether you should really tell him "I don't really know what happened. I could have imagined things, I haven't certainty."

To say Nanami was confused was an understatement. Imagined things?

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I understand that this is your private life." His words were captivating. You really felt like telling him, but the inner fear that you were accusing your husband of something he might not have done, that you might have just misinterpreted, gnawed at your mind.

"He arrived drunk. I don't know why he arrived like that, he never drinks. You know that." You stared at the open door next to you, remembering that Satoru was still around at home. Understanding what was bothering you, the man asked if he could close the door and you consented.

"What else?" He encouraged you to continue.

"I hate alcohol, Kento. He knows that." You threw a strand of hair that insisted on falling behind your ear on your face and tried to steady your voice to continue "So he got a little clingy... then he came at me a-and Satoru started to touch me, then I asked him to stop, but he didn't seemed to be himself-"

Nanami tensed at your words. Had the broken man below really dared to do this? He would never be able to imagine his longtime friend acting like that, so it took him a while to digest what you said. But when he remembered the state of your nightgown, some things started to turn in his head. Suddenly the Nanami's aura became dark and you opened your eyes wide, fearing that you had said something really stupid.

"I know Satoru isn't that kind of man, Kento..." you desperately tried to explain yourself "Like I said, I may have imagined things."

"I believe in you." he tried to stop your rapid thoughts and stared at you in silence, still trying to process what Gojo had done. You were obviously distraught and creating scenarios in your head to mitigate the facts. He finally understood why you were so scared, why you had locked yourself in the room, and that reaction from Gojo... it would be hard not to believe what you said after realizing all that.

"Did he hurt you?" The question made you blink your eyes frantically, truthfully denying such a question.

"No! He would never do that!" You said with a hint of hesitation, wondering what would have happened if you hadn't been able to hit Satoru moments ago "He would never do that..." you repeated the last sentence in a whisper, trying to convince yourself more than the man in your front.

Kento remembered the plate thrown on the floor and Gojo's response when he had asked if the white-haired man had thrown it on the floor. No and yes. He assumed you threw the plate to defend yourself and finally he understood the meaning of the Gojo's ambiguous answer.

"But he is in perfect physical condition." Nanami eased your worries, figuring you would be worried about this.

The two of you spent long seconds in silence, and while Nanami thought of a way to help you, your thoughts were solely focused on the anxiety growing in the chest, trying to drown out the bad feeling and negative thinking.

"Do you want me to take him with me?" Nanami suggested and you understood what he meant. He was going to keep Gojo away from you tonight, take him with him somewhere, maybe his own home. You considered whether this would be the best option, but you doubt that you would be able to stay close to your husband for now.

"Do you think this is the best idea?" You questioned him shyly.

"I can spend the night here too. I can sleep downstairs with Gojo." Kento honestly didn't know what the correct way to react to this was. The situation took him completely by surprise and his mind was restless.

You thought for a moment and tried to imagine yourself with Satoru sleeping downstairs. You found the idea uncomfortable and the realization made you want to burst into tears even more. Your lips trembled once more and then you began to feel a sudden anger.

It's always the damn drink. It's always its fault! If it didn't exist, this would never have happened. You hated alcohol and everything related to it with all your being. You wanted to break every bottle of that unfortunate liquid.

You loved your husband too much to hate him even now. You would be angry at him at times, but you would never be able to blame him openly, denying it to yourself. So you deflect the blame onto a phantom enemy. The alcohol.

Your train of thought was interrupted when you heard Kento calling yout name once again. "I'm sorry, I thought too much."

"I think I'd better take him away tonight." He suggested seeing your inability to make a decision now. "Will you be okay alone? Do you want me to ask someone to stay with you?"

You didn't want to include anyone else in your problems and so you looked at the bedside clock noticing that it was already close to 1 am. "Yes. I'll be fine." Your voice was low and distant.

"Are you sure? You don't want me to call Megumi or someone else?" Kento knew your relationship with the boy well, having heard him call you mother in secret many times, but the idea seemed scary to you. Megumi never managed to find out what happened tonight, he would hate Gojo.

"Please, leave this story just between us" you asked swallowing hard

"If you need anything, just call me again." Your friend decided not to go against your decision and got up from his crouched position to go get Gojo. Before disappearing down the hall, he looked at you one last time. Your gaze was fixed on a random spot in the room and he let out a disappointed sigh. Against his will, Nanami walked again and went down the stairs.

"Let's go." he announced rudely as he met the eyes of the sorcerer already in the room. Gojo hasn't taken his eyes off the blonde's figure since his feet appeared in his field of vision at the top of the stairs. He was still sitting by the counter, replaying over and over the memories of you fighting him and torturing yourself for being an asshole.

"Was she the one who told me to leave?" Satoru's voice had a defeated tone.

"Not exactly." once again, Gojo hated the way Nanami spoke to him. Depraved, that's how the man sitting on the floor felt.

Still under the influence of alcohol, he needed help to get up. His head hurt like never before and everything started spinning. It took a lot of strength to lift him, as his body insisted on remaining on the ground, but Nanami tried his best to get him into the passenger seat of the car.

The entire way Gojo remained silent, looking out the window and both refusing to look at each other. Gojo seemed to have traveled in time when he noticed that he was suddenly under a shower. He didn't remember how he got out of the car, and somehow, he now finds himself in a bathroom with his clothes soaked. Nanami had no mercy and threw him under the freezing water as soon as they arrived, already fed up with the weakened state of the person next to him.

And then, Kento heard sobbing. Unlike those of the woman he spoke to a short time ago, these were more discreet and seemed to refuse to make too much noise. This was the cry of a man who didn't want to cry.

He just watched from a little distance as Gojo's shoulders swayed up and down. In an outburst of anger, he knocked over all the hygiene products hanging inside the shower and kicked the glass door hard. By a miracle, it didn't break, but made a powerful sound echo around the place. Nanami knew that there was a lot going on in his head right now, what should have been a work problem had consequences for your marriage, and very serious consequences.

"She's going to hate me, Nanami." Here it was. The most powerful sorcerer in the world crying like a child. He expelled the words in a distressing manner and the blonde finally felt a little sorry for him since they had left the house.

"No, she won't." Kento knew you, and witnessed the beginning of your relationship. Maybe it would be good to get away for a bit while your husband had so many problems with the life of a sorcerer. Maybe you two need to spend time alone, like some couples do, until things in the jujutsu world calm down and Gojo's temper returns to normal.

After a long pause, he was supposed to say something else. His friend was already quite upset, but Nanami was still outraged by Satoru's actions. Looking at his own reflection in the tile, he uttered the words, "But if you're not sorry for this, Gojo, or if you dare touch her like that again, I won't forgive you."

[girl-named-matty]

Random Sebastian Sallow Headcanons

Random Sebastian Sallow Headcanons by me! Seriously, its very random, a huge jumbled mess.

He’s super cocky. From his teen years and on he’s always been cocky and really competitive. 

Huge ego but willing to admit when he loses.

He’s a very passionate lover without a doubt, like 100%.

He’s also a very dedicated lover. He remembers every single little detail about his significant other; what they like, how they act around certain people, etc… He’s got it all stored in his head and he won’t forget them. 

 Definitely the kinda guy to sneak out in the middle of the night. 

Very protective. Whether you’re his friend, family, lover, someone he’s close to in general, he’s always got your back. 

Very loyal (need I say more?) 

His favorite classes are Defense Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy and Potions without a doubt. 

Spends hours and I mean HOURS in the library or even just reading. When he’s not fooling around, he’s got his nose in a book trying to learn something he doesn’t already know. 

He likes reading romance and fiction. Yeah, sure, he loves the real stuff he can learn but who says you can’t learn a thing or two from romance and fiction??

Has the most random pickup lines. But not an awkward random, like an “incredibly cryptic, takes you a few minutes to understand what he’s tryna say” kinda pick up lines. But surprisingly they work really well. 

Would be a Ravenclaw if not in Slytherin . 

His Amortentia would HAVE to do something with the scent of books, there’s no way it wouldn’t. 

His love for knowledge and reading definitely came from his parents and the fact that they were professors. 

As stated earlier, he remembers a lot, but he tends to remember the smaller things rather than the big things. He’ll remember what time he was reading a certain book and when but he’ll forget he has a test or a paper due the morning of as if he hadn’t been studying for it for the past few days. 

Has the cutest and most creative date ideas. Usually nothing big but it’s so much more worth it since he’s put so much thought into them. 

He definitely wants kids but he wants to make sure he is ready to be a father. He didn’t get to grow up with a good father figure in the most crucial times of his life and so he doesn’t really know how to be a dad but he’ll definitely learn. He wants to be the best dad he can. 

Always losing quills, like ALWAYS. Good thing he has backups otherwise he’d be screwed. 

Sometimes he sneaks into the restricted section purely to piss off Madam Scribner. Like he won’t even go down there to read, he just wants to be a lil crap and annoy her. 

He has school rivalries but he won’t let that get in the way of his personal friendships/relationships with that person. Slytherin and Gryffindor have the biggest rivalry in all of Hogwarts but he still has good friendships with plenty of Gryffindors. 

This man LOVES using analogies. All the time. And then he finds himself rambling on and on after that. But who can blame him when he just has so much to think about? 

Has some of the best grades in school. Even with his detention record and his reputation of being a troublemaker, he’s still dedicated to his education. 

Let me know if you guys want a part 2 of this because I have plenty more!

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom. I blame the angst on the prompt...

Trust me?

Sherlock’s body shakes from his sobs. He clenches his fists and digs the nails into his palms, trying, but failing to compose himself. Something inside his chest breaks and it’s the most excruciating pain Sherlock’s ever endured. There isn’t a single person in this world who can mend his heart after this betrayal. Ever. He won’t trust anyone like that for the rest of his life. 

Mycroft was right all along, damn him!

This Christmas is first he’s looked forward to since his childhood. He and Victor are going to Victor’s family on Boxing Day and will spend the remainder of Christmas there. To Sherlock’s astonishment he gets along just fine with Victor’s parents, which is a rare thing. Very few people tolerate Sherlock’s odd behaviour for more than minutes, and vice versa, but it’s actually Victor’s parents who have invited Sherlock to stay with them. He should’ve known it’s too good to be true. 

After Sherlock’s last class before the holiday, he finds a note shoved under the door to his room. 

Christmas at ours is off. V.

No explanation. Sherlock thinks it’s a joke at first and tries to track down Victor, but several of his friends tell Sherlock he’s already left. 

“Said he was going abroad with that girl he’s been seeing and her family,” a boy with freckles says. 

Sherlock doesn’t know his name. He doesn’t care. All he can think about is the girl he’s been seeing.

But Victor is his boyfriend. Isn’t he? Or has it all been a lie? The invitation Victor has shown him; was it fake?

Sherlock doesn’t know how he manages to get home to London after that, but the next thing he registers is Mycroft standing over him with a worried look, the needle still in Sherlock’s arm. 

***

Sherlock has built a solid wall around his heart after Victor’s broken promise. He’s stopped caring what people think of him and has even created a sort of diagnosis on himself; high-functioning sociopath. And it worked. For many years. And his reputation as a heartless man never falters. 

But then John entered Sherlock’s life with bright light, persistent loyalty, willing to follow Sherlock wherever he led him; even kill for him. And all that after only hours as acquaintances. 

A warm feeling, Sherlock hasn’t felt since his time with Victor, is now a constant reminder that his wall is about to crack. It terrifies him to no end, because Sherlock knows that if John leaves, Sherlock’s downfall will destroy him beyond repair. 

So, he tries to keep John at a distance with insults, calling him an idiot, placing body parts in the fridge, stop talking for days, but still John stays. 

***

Another Christmas is soon upon them. Sherlock’s parents have asked if he and John will come visiting, but Sherlock hasn’t answered yet, and is reluctant to ask John if he’ll want to accompany him. The invitation is far too similar to the one Sherlock got from Victor’s parents all those years ago, and his heart aches. 

Sherlock has known for quite some time that his traitorous heart has decided that John is its keeper, and he feels unable to let it down. 

“My parents have asked us to spend a few days with them during Christmas,” Sherlock tells John, his heart pounding loudly in his chest with fear and excitement equally measured. 

John’s warm smile makes Sherlock want to kiss him, be hold by him, feel John’s warmth envelope him. 

“That’s kind of them,” he says. “Do you want to go?”

“If you do,” Sherlock whispers almost inaudible, feeling nauseous with trepidation of John’s answer. 

“Of course, I’ll come, Sherlock. I have nowhere to go, and I would love to spend Christmas with your family.”

Why? Sherlock wants to ask. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” John says as if he’s read Sherlock’s mind. 

***

He drinks too much after the thrilling chase through London. Sherlock feels light-headed and without knowing it, Sherlock’s told John parts of his history with Victor. John’s mouth forms a thin line, and his jaw sets. When he speaks, it’s through gritted teeth. 

“No one should treat you like that. How dare he?”

John’s eyes are like thunderclouds, his voice fierce and dangerous. A thrilling sensation runs down Sherlock’s spine, and he inhales sharply when John rises from his chair and kneels in front of Sherlock. His movements are careful, to not spook Sherlock when he takes Sherlock’s hands in his. 

“I would never let anyone do something like that to you again, Sherlock. You can trust me on that, alright?” John says and his voice is so soft, which makes Sherlock’s eyes prickle. 

“I trust you, John,” he whispers, and when John brings Sherlock’s right hand to his lips, Sherlock can feel that his heart is about to be healed. 

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @calaisreno @peanitbear @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels @sabsi221b @raina-at

[brother-emperors]

how long do you typically spend drawing a comic page? I'm a perfectionist and I have a hard time keeping a reasonable working pace for comics

so I’m actually going to not answer this one (the answer is both less and more time than people think, and it depends) but instead I’m going to give you some advice on how to deal with perfectionism when it comes to making comics

the first thing is to see if you can kill your inner perfectionist, which basically means, can you get comfortable with imperfections? this is something that can be difficult to do, but it can also really take some weight off your shoulders if you can look at a line that’s a little squiggly instead of perfectly smooth and move on from it. there’s a whole page, a single wonky line, is like. fine, especially if you’re doing more than one page.

if not, that’s okay! we’re moving on to the 75%-80% rule, which is: figure out what giving 100% in art looks like for you, then find out what giving 70%-80% looks like. As a person, you can probably consistently give 80% to any given illustration, but doing 100% all the time is going to fuck you up in the long run. If you can get comfortable consistently giving a 80%, you can then decide when you want to crank it up for dramatic effect, or you can save going all in on something fun or a big project. if perfectionism is a hard habit to break, instead try it reframe it as giving a ‘perfect’ 80% instead of 100. it’s all about that overall visual consistency, baby!

comics can feel like doing seven or eight individual illustrations on a page (panels) and some people definitely tackle them this way, and that makes learning what you can consistently give without wanting to shove your hands into cement very important. If every panel is a solid 80%, the entire page looks Good (which means the entire page is working at 100% because you have visual consistency/coherency and that’s what matters)

ideally, you reach a point where you can gauge what a good 80% of what you can give looks like across an entire sequence. for me, Trikaranos is operating at 80% while Ex Voto is 70% (part of it is that Trikaranos is more demanding, while Ex Voto is more casual and vibes based, but for both I put a lot more work into formatting and lettering)

part of what can help with all of this is figuring out a good work pipeline that encourages finishing up a sequence to keep you from getting stuck agonizing on small details

a decent one is this

thumbnails > rough pencils > do tight pencils where you think you’ll need it (I do tight pencils on facial expressions, furniture if there are bodies on it, and perspective shots) > inks > colors > lettering

adjust it based on whatever your own needs are, etc.

what’s imperative to this is that you don’t do the pencils > inks > coloring stages in sequential order, but instead jump around so that you don’t burn your energy through it (in that there’s a drop in quality as you either get tired or start to rush). Jumping around lets you spread out your high energy points and it picks up the slack for when you want to just get it done, but also it forcibly keeps you from spending too much time on one specific thing. (which is why breaking it up into stages is important, instead something like finishing one whole page from pencils to colors and then doing the next one)

when I do single page comics, I usually alternate every other panel, when I do multi page comics, I’ll either alternate entire pages or I’ll do the first and last pages at the start, and then jump around the middle in whatever order I feel like.

whenever I find myself spending too much time on something, I will set a playlist that has either a 15 minute or half hour run time, and when I reach the last song, if I’m still fucking around focusing on one thing, I’ll make myself move in and return to it later. I do this the most with the inking stage so that I don’t over ink something (I find crosshatching relaxing, but it doesn’t often look good because I do too much in one place and it looks bad because it doesn’t work with the rest of the panels and then I have to start over), and then I can go back to a panel with fresh eyes later and decide whether or not more detail is necessary for the whole page to look good, or if it’s fine as is.

and ofc, the most important guideline of all: the Fuck It, We’re Done rule, which is at some point, you may look at a page and go ‘I don’t want to work on this any more, I’m tired, it’s not fun, I’ll be stuck here forever, etc’ and that’s when you put your pencil down, physically move back from the page, and figure out what the bare minimum amount of work you need to do in order for the whole page to be coherent is, do JUST THAT, and post it.

at the end of the day, it’s the whole page that’s important, not all the individual details, so try not to focus on too many small details early on, but instead go back and add them in closer to the end. You can clean up any line art mistakes that are bothering you here at this stage too.

finally, don’t zoom in too close on a digital canvas, especially if you’re doing pencils. there’s no reason for a reader to zoom in close like that unless you specifically want them too, spare your hands the agony of tiny details that won’t be seen when you upload it at viewer resolutions. I know artists who won’t go past 150% because those details won’t show up at print resolutions.

HEUGHGHHH this is so so long, but hopefully there is some helpful advice in there for you, anon

[oddballwriter]

Stacy's Mom, Part 2

Summary: Following Marc asking you out on a date in exchange for him hosting so many sleepovers for both of your daughters and mowing your lawn, you meet for lunch at a restaurant and share your stories and talk about other things, finding that you two really get along. 

Warnings: SingleDad!Marc and SingleMom!reader. She/her reader. Reader is divorced and Marc raised Rayna (his daughter) alone. Some reference to Marc's past with some parts skipped over and added non-canon stuff (Rayna's adoption). Marc doesn't have D.I.D. in this but it's mentioned that he had/has some issues with his mental health from his past.

Author’s Snip: This was the second in line in my poll for what I should write so here y'all go. I had some people requesting a part two so here you go. Just as an FYI, I will not do a part three, I just wanted to write this because it was wanted and the idea struck me.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,012

You checked yourself in the mirror, making sure that your hair looked nice and your make-up was cleanly done. Double-guessing your outfit.

Was it too casual? Was it not casual enough?

No, it's fine. This isn't a business lunch. This is a date lunch. A date lunch with the very handsome Marc Spector. The date proposal was a bit sudden to you. One day you finally meet him in person for the first time, the next he's over at your house mowing your lawn and backyard, and now you have a date with him in about an hour.

While driving in your car to the restaurant you found that you were stricken with a bit of the nerves. It had been so long since you had been on a date. A very long time actually. You hadn't dated anyone since you and your former husband, Stacy's father, divorced. You settled that you were just too busy with work and taking care of Stacy that you simply didn't have time to get out there again.

Well, maybe you're still not trying to get out there. After all, this was more of a payment, a means to show gratitude and get to know Marc better since it would be nice to be familiar with the father of your child's best friend. But, things always happen when you least expect them. So who knows.

Upon getting there with a couple minutes to spare you find Marc in the front already waiting for you. He gives you a warm smile and greeting and heads inside with you to which you get seated at a table.

"You look nice, today." he compliments. You thank him and respond with "You don't look so bad yourself.".

After ordering, you two spend the first couple of moments as you wait for your food talking about yourselves. You explain your job and your many business trips and he explains his. As it turns out, Marc is a writer for an archeology-based news website. But Marc sprung up a new topic.

"Why did you stay working? Not to sound rude or anything. I just find that most parents leave behind working to take care of the kids." Marc clarified. You sigh, it was a bit of a long and somewhat personal answer, but you felt like you could lay it out to Marc. "If I'm being honest, my former husband's job... well, it was an okay job with good pay but my job, which I had before him, paid more and our new life was dependent on that money so I kept it." you explain. Marc nodded, "I get it. Nice house in a good neighborhood and block. It's a picturesque place to live and raise a child.".

"Exactly," you exclaim, "But Dan, my former husband, he found that my job was keeping us apart and other factors that were there like the spark dying out just made it clear that maybe we were fine going our separate ways." you explain with a sigh. "I'm sorry to hear that." Marc replies. You look at him with a soft smile, "Oh, don't be sorry. Things like that just happen to some people. It was a bit sudden, sure, but I guess we both weren't homebodies." you add.

"That must still be a bit rough on you? A single mother and a working woman." Marc sympathizes. "I've gotten the hang of it. Maybe I'm a bit worried for Stacy's sake when she's alone but she has you and Rayna now. Plus her dad is still in her life and we're on good terms." you say.

Marc nods, glad that you're doing just fine. But then you turn the attention towards him. "How about you. What's your story, if you don't mind sharing it?" you ask.

"Oh, well... it's a bit of a story. One that goes a bit longer." Marc explains. You look at him with that same soft smile, "I'm all ears if you want to talk about it.". Marc takes a breath.

"I had a... complicated childhood, to say the least. When I became an adult I went off to join the military but I had some mental health issues, so they let me go. Then I became a mercenary, but that also didn't turn out to be right for me either so I left that. After that, I was just kind of a wandering soul." Marc explains before continuing. "But then something just kind of came over me where I just wanted to be a dad. I don't really know where the hell it came from but it was there and so I got the job I have now, climbed up to get a stable wage, and looked into adoption. Then I took in and adopted Rayna when she was young." Marc explains till he reaches the end and just shrugs, "And now we're here." he concludes.

You look on listening in awe. "Wow. You really are a great man." you praise. Marc blushes a bit and smiles "Well, what can I say? I guess I just needed someone to take care of so that I could have some actual structure in my life for once.". Marc laughs a bit, "You know, she's a handful sometimes, especially with her being a tweenager and starting to get into all the latest things." Marc comments. You roll your eyes thinking about that with Stacy, "Tell me about it. I've lost count of all the things that were in fashion and then fell out of fashion soon after." you groan.

You laugh at all the things you've heard and seen with your daughters. Followed by things when you two were younger. Followed by this, and that, and other things even while eating lunch just enjoying talking and laughing. By the time you ran out of things to talk about, the waiter came to ask if you wanted the bill, making you realize that time flew right past the two of you.

"I had a great time." you comment.

Marc smiles back "So did I.".

[mommalosthermind]

So this happened:

Me: “I feel like I wrote Lisa kinda snotty in this passage, d’you think she could pull off snotty?”

Him: “Not really? If you want bitchy then you need Yae Miko, Lisa’s kinda normal unless you’re late with a book.”

Me: “…Lisa’s vaguely condescending though.”

Him: “Yeah, I can see that. Miko can be straight up mean but Lisa would be like, ‘Careful cutie, keep that up and I might forget your safeword,”

Which I can fucking hear, and it is thus completely not my fault that this immediately popped into my head:

(Lisa/Jean/Kaeya under the cut)

Teatime is meant to be sacred, you know. It’s a darling little ritual to break up the day. Peaceful, harmonious. If, lately, it’s also come with a delightful side of spending time with Jean, and occasionally Kaeya, well, that’s just two more reasons for teatime to be important, don’t you think?

Sometimes, though, not even the fear of Lisa’s wrath can keep Jean’s underlings from interrupting.

Lisa’s fingertips rub circles into her temples. In all honesty, she tuned out whatever crisis this is ages ago. Her tea’s lone gone. The other two cups, so carefully brewed, are cold. No one’s touched the assortment of sliced fruits, nor the biscuits.

It might be selfish of her, to be sad over such a silly thing, but really, is it? Jean works so hard. Lisa all but bullied her into routinely meeting up like this, and Kaeya’s no better. Yes, she’s sad about the loss of their quiet rest, the lack of time together, but at the heart of it, Lisa’s upset at how the rest of the world is intent on working them both into an early grave.

Varka’s in for an earful when he returns.

Half an hour. That’s all she’s trying to give them. Half an hour to breathe.

Instead, Kaeya paces the length of the rug, voice rising and falling in its most persuasive tones. Jean stands behind her chair, one hand curled over the back. Bruises are beginning to darken under her eyes. How much more lovely would she look, if she was simply allowed a full night’s sleep? How broad would those shoulders really be, if they weren’t coiled so tight with tension? For that matter, Lisa’s willing to bet Kaeya’s lip would swell so much sweeter if the teeth sinking into it weren’t so rife with worry.

Irritation spikes in Jean’s voice, calling Lisa back to the present. She purrs, “Careful cutie, keep that up and I might forget your safeword.”

They freeze. They always do. It’s adorable, really, how easy it is to trip them up like this.

Jean’s flush is a thing of beauty, much darker than Lisa can usually pull out with a single line.

Lisa tilts her head, and blinks.

Neither of them have moved. They’re simply… staring at one another.

Her brows bunch together. Hmm. Perhaps she’s overstepped.

All at once, Kaeya animates, a too-loud laugh filling the space between them all. He waves an extravagant hand in the air, ambling back to Jean’s side. “Be careful yourself,” he says, glancing from Jean’s red face to Lisa. “Lines that like are liable to lose you the soft domme reputation you’ve so pointedly cultivated.”

Lisa smiles, making sure to allow it to bloom slowly. She watches a lovely shiver work its way up Jean’s spine.

“What I’m hearing is you think I’d make a good domme,” she says, and allows her smile to curl into sultry as the edge of Kaeya’s lip tucks between his teeth.

Jean’s inhale is sharp.

Like the blustery thing he is, he opens his mouth as soon as he catches her looking. “Is that so? Do good dommes often ‘forget’ safewords?”

“Only with permission, darling. After all, it would be my job to take care of you, wouldn’t it? That includes giving you the punishments you want.”

Kaeya’s eye is blown wide enough to lose its star shape.

“Although, I do find myself far more interested in giving out praise over punishments. And I wouldn’t need to punish the two of you, now would I?”

“I feel,” Jean squeaks, stopping to clear her throat. “Oh my goodness,” her hands come up to pat at her still-burning cheeks.

Kaeya attempts what Lisa assumes is meant to be a laugh, but it comes out more like a rough breath.

“This is maybe not a work appropriate conversation,” Jean says, still squeaky, still red, still staring at Lisa like she’s never seen her before.

Lisa stands, and watches how they swallow in unison.

And then the door bangs open, Amber rushing in with another fistful of papers.

“You will not believe the amount of nonsense,” Amber exclaims, only to stop dead and stare at the three of them. “Um. Is everything okay here? Is this a bad time?”

Jean shakes herself, once, twice, and when she pulls her gorgeous eyes off Lisa for the first time in ages, Lisa finds that she’s had quite enough of that, thank you very much.

“It is, yes,” she says before Jean can dive right back into whatever inane thing needs her attention now. “Go ahead and drop that anywhere, and we’ll get back to you later, okay?”

Amber’s already nodding, her eyebrows pressed tightly together. “Yeah, yeah, okay, and I’ll tell Wyatt not to let anyone else in for now.”

The girl’s gone in the same rush she arrived, door thunking closed behind her. As an added precaution, Lisa activates her personal wards, watching both doors glow a faint purple.

“Did I know you could do that?” Kaeya asks mildly.

Jean’s already moving to collect the papers Amber left behind.

Lisa tuts. “Jeanie, sit.”

Jean sits.

Jean sits, and then an absolutely baffled expression takes over her pretty face. That flush is back in full force.

“Good girl,” Lisa says, leaning one hip on the table across from her.

Oh.

That flush goes so dark Lisa’s a little worried the poor thing’s gone dizzy.

Goodness, if this keeps up, Lisa is going to be the dizzy one.

“And I believe that’s my cue,” Kaeya chirps, easing around where Jean’s still gaping up at Lisa. “Mind undoing the door long enough to let me out?”

“I’m afraid I do mind. Your turn, sweetie. Sit down for me.”

“Aha,” Kaeya says, but his feet stop moving.

“Jeanie baby?”

Jean slings one arm out, tugging Kaeya in until he sits across her lap, held in place with her arms around his hips.

That one blue eye slides from Jean to Lisa and back again, as though he can’t decide where he should be looking.

“So good for me,” Lisa says again, delighting in the way the two of them melt into each other. “Aren’t you two just the prettiest little kittens I’ve ever seen.”

She sits back down, leaves them to press into each other, lets them keep their eyes on her as she starts preparing them all new cups of tea. When she looks up, Kaeya’s slouched down to cuddle into Jean’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around her middle. All three of those gorgeous eyes are fixed on her, exactly where she likes them best.

“Now then. I think we have some new things to discuss, and you two darlings have some safewords to pick out.” She winks, and relishes the way two sets of teeth sink into lower lips. “Don’t worry. I won’t forget them unless you want me to.”

[but-the-library-of-alexandria]

This might be controversial but I'm saying it anyway: we need to stop blaming healthcare staff for poor care even when it seems like it's genuinely their fault, because despite what it seems, 90% of the time when doctors dismiss you, nurses are rude to you, and professionals 'don't know enough' about your conditions - these things are caused by systemic issues and not personal failures. They do care, they've just been broken by the system and unfortunately - despite their best effort and then some - they don't have endless patience and smiles left in them.

Let's use an analogy more people will relate to: say you work in a restaurant. Your manager has, for some reason, booked the restaurant out at double capacity. There are people who booked weeks in advance queuing for their tables, and there are walk-ins, too; not just people looking for a nice time, but road-tripping families with hungry kids who can't find anywhere to eat, people who have been sent here because the place they booked at unexpectedly had to close. They're hungry and many are in a bad mood.

If you're good at you job, I'm sure you could manage - despite the stress and vitriol - to handle things in a friendly and apologetic way. I'm sure you'd be able to politely turn people away with recommendations on alternative places to go, apologise when you were late with meals, and still do your best to refill cups and take payments with a smile.

Imagine your manager starting booking at double-capacity every single day.

Imagine watching this become standard practice throughout the city, then the region, then the country. Nobody has anywhere else to go. Let's pretend most of these people have no kitchens and can't cook at home; you are the only source of food for these people, and they need to eat. Every day you spend 10 hours dealing with hundreds of people sobbing, fainting, wasting away in front of you, but you still only have 30 tables and 4 line cooks. Every day you go home knowing you managed to get some people fed, but others are still waiting. You had to go home knowing they might be dead by tomorrow, but if you didn't leave, you might be.

How long do you think you could stay kind? Keep smiling? Keep empathising? All of these people, you know, have every right to eat. They need it. They come here because it's where people come for food. It's your job to feed them. But how long do you think it would take for you to start feeling like people are entitled, when they raise a hand and ask for more water? They're thirsty, and they've waiting a long time. They deserve that water. But do you not think that in your head you'd be screaming, you're thirsty? I haven't had a drink in 8 hours! there's a line out the door of people collapsing from dehyrdration! You're lucky to even have a seat! Do you not think that when someone came to you and said, please, do you have a seat, I haven't eaten all day and my stomach hurts, that you would think about the chaos inside - the chaos they can't see, the starving masses they can't see, the dying and dead they can't see - and tell them to go home and deal with it? How much sympathy could you have, knowing you had barely enough food today to keep everyone in the building alive, and people are complaining that it isn't enough? You know it isn't, but all you have.

Can you image going home, opening up your phone, and seeing an internet full of people talking about how mean you are, talking about their bad experience, saying if they hate serving me so much, why do the job? Would you think of quitting? Would you think of quitting, knowing they wouldn't replace you, and then think of all the people who would be getting one less drink, one less seat at the table, think of the colleagues who'd get one less break, ten more tables to wait?

The point is, you have a right to good healthcare, and the staff trying to give it to you are just as upset that they can't. Try to have some empathy. Your health issue is probably the only one you've dealt with today; the doctor that's telling you it's probably not a big deal has probably just seen ten people with a worse problems, and that doesn't make yours matter less, but she's been given 8 hours to help 100 people and you can't blame her for lacking patience when she knows her next ten minutes could save or doom a life. The nurse that rolled his eyes when you said you were in pain has seen so much pain today. He's jaded, broken, traumatised, a shadow of the genuinely good and caring person his is at his heart. Do you think you would be kind, patient, taking your time, empathising with everyone, if you'd been through the kind of abuse and trauma they have? No offence but some of y'all can't even be kind to people talking about their problems online without telling them to stfu until palestine is free

Please can we stop blaming each other. I know how easy it is to blame the person in front of you, especially when they're rude or dismissive and when you're suffering. I'm not saying it's okay or that you should be okay with it, and I'm not claiming that there are no genuine bad eggs in medicine, but let's not have patients blaming staff and staff blaming patients. Give people grace. Let's support each other in our shared suffering instead of lashing out. The healthcare system is abusing all of us. Stand together. Support the strikes. Empathise.

(note: I am England-based, this is about the NHS but could apply to many healthcare providers. I am also not a healthcare worker, but have friends who are, so that's the peek I've had behind the curtain)

[swamp-spirit]

Swamp's Small-Talk Tips!

My power is that, despite being incredibly socially awkward in 99% of situations, I love small-talk. I'll get to know the person next to me in line! I'll talk about the weather! I'll learn what family members/pets/hobbies co-workers like to talk about!

The core of small talk is just saying "I am interested in your life and care about your experiences".

Small talk is fun because it has very clear rules and also you can win at it (make somebody happy). Here's my small talk tips-

-If it's a 'getting to know you' conversation, start with the shared situation. If you meet somebody traveling, you could ask where they're going. That opens up follow up questions. Going on vacation? What are they looking forward to?

-If they ask a question, and the question could also apply to them, it's polite to ask them the question back. ("Oh, I'm headed to Nevada. What about you?") Most people are not actually just trying to quiz you, and feeling like it can feel like doing all the work to keep the conversation going. Think of it like tennis: Receive the question, give a meaningful answer, return the conversation to them.

-You can give negative answers, but don't dwell in the negative. When somebody says "how are you today" they are trying to communicate they care enough to check in. You aren't expected to say "great, how are you!", but being negative is seen as a bid for sympathy and for the conversation to turn towards comfort. Some days, this may be what you need, but sympathy takes a lot of energy, even for the neurotypical. If somebody always focuses on the negative, it makes the conversation always focus on comforting them instead of something more positive and mutual. As a rule of thumb IMO, if you're in a normal bad mood, don't lie, but keep it light and shift focus. "Ah, I'm pretty sleepy. How are you?" (translation, I slept for hours and am running on a single protein bar and spite, but do not need to shift the conversation towards me). So, unless you really are asking for some attention and comfort, don't fake happy but downplay ("could be better", "still alive", "hoping to feel better after some coffee") and distract ("how about you?") This can also be good for reframing your own mood and focusing on the ways your day could improve or is going well.

-The reason weather comes up so much is because it's a shared experience with people in your area. We all drove to work in the snow today! Let us exchange Driving to Work in the Snow experiences! But there are many shared experiences that aren't the weather (and aren't touchy like major news stories). This is why things like traffic, location based sensory experiences (like loud construction), or shared inconvenience are common.

-Show interest in what the other person shares. Most stories have an intended reaction. "What happened was impressive, I want this affirmed." "That's awesome. What did she say?" "What happened was difficult, I want this affirmed" "Ah, that sucks so much. I hate it when that happens." Remember this is small talk. Most people are not looking for solutions right now. They probably don't know you well, and you don't know their situation well.

-Ask about previous conversations. Small talk is about showing you care, and remembering is one of the best ways. "How'd (your dog's name) handle the fireworks", "Did you end up seeing (your cousin's) play", "I know you love (media), did you see the (new thing)?". Remembering what's going on in their lives matters to people.

Some additional go-to topics: -Ask about plans for upcoming breaks/weekends. Often, the answer will be that they aren't doing anything or are doing something unpleasant, but you can affirm that taking a relaxing weekend is great or that having to spend the weekend doing taxes is rough -Follow their interests. Crafts, fashion, ren-faire, whatever. Find the things that make them light up. -Point out physical objects in their space. Cool earrings, a cute desk magnet, a photo of a pet, and compliment them.

Topics to avoid -Remember that not everybody has a good family relationship, and questions that assume that can be landmines -Lots of people are upset about being single, so don't ask if people are in a relationship -In general, avoid hot buttons like religion/politics until you know them well

Also remember a lot of other people aren't great at small-talk. Every office will have somebody who responds to every "how are you today" with a fifteen minute monologue of minor problems or never turns questions back to you.

You can deal with them through most of the things on this list (showing sympathy for their minor complaints, trying to show interest in what they're saying), or you can choose to disengage.

Good luck, and may you find the topic to make a stranger's day!

[eggcheeseham-ster]

I love RyuTeru since I was a child (11 years old) I'm glad to find another artist who likes it, Could you give me your Headcanons? I'd like to see what you think about them.

Pardon my language but holy fuck I thought I'd never find anyone else that likes it as much as me 😭. had to do a double take when I read the ask I legit thought I was hallucinating - anyway! I rmbr having posted some hcs about them before but I'm too lazy to dig it up so I'll dump it here

(bonus tobio and tetsuya crumbs i like to think the 4 of them as a happy friend group):

They are both early birds, but sometimes they sleep in on weekends. 

Teru drinks coffee and Ryutaro drinks tea. Ryutaro dislikes the strong, bitter taste of coffee even when there's a shitload of creamer in it (once Ryutaro made Tobio drink tea and he added soda in it).

Teru enjoys spoiling his loved ones.. Ryutaro often tells him to not spoil him too much. I like to think when they form a family in the future Teru is the parent that drags the entire (reluctant)  family out for shopping.

Whenever Teru falls sick, Ryutaro would use aromatherapy to ail his symptoms such as fragrant incense and essential oils.

Whenever Ryutaro falls sick Teru makes him soup. Granted it's canned soup but it's the thought that counts (i hc teru being an awful cook more lr8)

Teru is absolutely the one that gives really cheesy nicknames and it makes Ryutaro cringe to high heaven. But he tolerates it because he likes seeing Teru smile :) 

Teru is extremely soft (literally). He takes damn good care of himself I just know his hair is soft. Bedtime cuddles are also soft. I can imagine his sleeping robes are super comfy.. Ryutaro has to compete with everyone else for hugs :(

Teru has a sweet tooth and enjoys cafe hopping. Fluffy pancakes with LOTS of maple syrup, ice cream waffles, sundaes etc. The things he orders are enough to give Ryutaro a heart attack, so he just sticks to drinks. Give him a break, his entire diet is just rice and grilled fish. 

Among the dss trio I'd feel like Ryutaro is the least petty but he can be extremely petty when it comes down to it. Whenever he's mad at Tobio and Tetsuya he'd let Teru be in charge of dinner. No one has the heart to say no when they see Teru's eyes light up in joy as he brainstorms recipes to try out.

Both of them are really good at makeup and self care. They do each other's makeup and hair. They also spend an ungodly amount of time in the bathroom. You want to hang out with these two? Waiting time is 2 hours.

Teru is the one to initiate dates and plans them. Their first couple of dates are the usual restaurant/mall/movie dates. But when Teru learns of Ryutaro's dislike of crowds they move their dates to more outdoorsy locations, like parks.  

Ryutaro can be dense. He doesn't pick up on flirting or pick up lines. I feel like the same goes with jokes they fly by over his head and you need to explain the joke to him, which instantly makes it unfunny and awkward.

Tobio and Tetsuya are the perpetual unfortunate third wheelers. They get it, they're single. Can Ryuteru stop holding hands and looking at each other?? They didn't sign up for this.

I can imagine Ryuteru travelling together after battle bladers for a while before bumping into Tobio and Tetsuya randomly. Tobio thinks they're just besties,, until he sees them holding hands and his brain explodes. Mostly from the fact that he can't believe this fortune telling weirdo got on with someone. Someone so pretty in fact??

Tetsuya is usually in his world most of the time and at first he doesn't realise he's third wheeling. But after he catches on he'd be sick of their bs after a while.

Teru would be super sweet to the two,, he'd be very patient with tetsuya and listen to him rambling about his crab friends.. The crabs like Teru as well :) 

I am so deep into delulu that I gave them a fankid. he doesn't have a name actually I just call him blue baby because he's just a mini ryutaro. absolutely nothing goes on in that pea sized brain but his parents still love him anyway <3 if you want I can make a separate post about adult ryuteru and their spawn because this one is rly long alr.

[tokkias]

Natsu Dragneel didn’t read. It wasn’t that he couldn’t (though perhaps Gray might try to convince one otherwise), but rather that he just didn’t understand the appeal. He could probably count the number of novels he’d read in his life on one hand, because he always seemed to lose interest within the first few pages.

On the other hand, Lucy would often wax poetic about the way that an author could use their words to construct a narrative that could grip your soul, shake you to your very core, tear you apart piece by piece, and put you back together. In her eyes, a good book could be a well and truly life-changing experience.

Natsu, of course, would quietly disagree.

That was, until, Lucy became an author herself. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that Lucy could do anything she committed herself to, and if that happened to be proving his views on words wrong, then so be it.

After the release of her novel, Lucy didn’t stop smiling for a whole week; nothing was able to bring her down from the high of being a real, genuine published author. Natsu couldn’t help but smile along with her because he was just so damn proud of how far she had come.

Although she knew his opinions on reading, Lucy had gifted him the very first copy, a way of thanking him for all he had done for her over the years. It was first edition, hardcover, whatever that meant, but it seemed important to Lucy, so he kept it on his shelf, among various other knick-knacks. He always claimed he would get around to it, but Lucy knew better. She knew not to take offence to it; it simply wasn’t something he could help.

Lucy had been out on a solo mission the past week, leaving him to sulk alone in his house, not bothering to make his way over to the guild when Happy left (because it was boring without her anyway). Though it had turned out that it was just as boring home alone.

He was on his third—maybe fourth—lap around the house, stepping over dirty laundry that he swore he’d get to later, and examining random objects that had been subject to his hoarding habit. Natsu ran a finger over the surface of the shelf, leaving a line in the layer of dust that had collected there since the last time he (well, Lucy) had cleaned. It stopped just short of the single book that adorned it. His gaze fell upon it, leading to a moment of consideration.

Sure, what the hell.

Taking the book from its dedicated space on the shelf, Natsu threw himself down on the couch and let it fall open in his lap. He flicked through the pages, trying to find the opening lines, but his eyes were caught by a flash of text that sat comfortably before the page reading Chapter One.

A dedication to everyone in my life who made this book possible

To my dearly departed parents, for instilling in me my love for writing and magic, for always believing in me, and for allowing me to become the person I am today.

To my guildmates: thank you for welcoming me into your family with open arms, supporting me unconditionally, and inspiring this very novel.

And most importantly, to my partner and my best friend, for dragging me into our seemingly never-ending adventure, for making me smile, even in my darkest hours, and for allowing me to experience a life beyond even my wildest imagination.

I can’t wait to spend the rest of forever at your side.

She had never told him about this part of the book. It felt like he had uncovered a gift, a secret for him to find, should he ever choose to seek it out. Reading it over, again and again, made his heart skip a beat in his excitement, a grin creeping its way onto his face.

Yeah, okay.

Maybe Lucy really was right about words.

[twotangledsisters]

Whats one thing you think you need to improve with you art, one thing you're satisfied with about your art, and one thing that determines who or what you draw about?

OMG, I love this question!

Improve!

I took some time thinking about this and thinking about anatomy, colour theory, composition... but ultimately I think the thing I am most desperate to improve is emotion.

Here's a bunch of recent pieces and WIPs, all of which I love:

With the exception of Eugene at the bottom smiling, they all feel very flat emotionally. They do not feel alive, they do not feel real, you do not look at those character and understand how they are feeling and feel with them (with the exception of Eugene's smile!)

You understand what I as an artist am attempting, it's very clear the New Dream and CandyCaine drawings on the upper corners are supposed to be in love, it's very clear the lower left drawing and upper-middle are supposed to be sad-sorta. But you don't feel it. Or I don't.

I want every piece I do to hit you with emotion! And I think my recent art reflects that intent, but isn't there yet. I don't know why. Like I can't quite put my finger on it... But they just feel flat.

Satisfied.

Something I'm very satisfied with right now is posing! For a long time I was just drawing characters standing still, nothing really going on... Every artists has that phase! And I realised I was doing that and now I try to avoid it all costs.

I mean these are three recent pieces and there's good variety. I could definitely be pushing the poses a bit more, especially that first one with New Dream I feel like there's room for a lot more movement... But as far as variety and poses choice, not necessarily how it's carried out, I am very satisfied about where I am right now.

Determines who or what you draw about

This one is really hard because... I don't think there is anything?

I'm not consistent with what I do.

No consistency.... Sometimes it's clean line-art, sometimes none, sometimes a little, sometimes I'm using pencil textures, sometimes no texture.... I CAN'T DECIDE D:

Sometimes I'm doing portraits, fantasy creatures, scenes, landscapes...

There are consistencies in my art like how I do anatomy (yes, I realise the stylized Rapunzel using a cartoon anatomy is already breaking this rule), or that I will repeat techniques....

I mean I don't even really want to be consistent in my art and what I draw, I like trying out new things, plus...

Sometimes I want to spend weeks on a piece (lots of my faves take 5-7 hours, I think my longest is 15 hours on a single drawing). I want to pour all of my love into a piece!!

And other days I want to sit down and finish a drawing in one session.

I can't just pick ONE style!!! XD

I think I went on a tangent there... I'm sorry.

But yeah... I don't have a satisfactory answer for this last one simply because I can't find the common thread in my art. But I don't think that takes away from it :D

I just kinda pick up a pen and see what happens XD

Thanks so much for an awesome ask that got me staring at my art and asking questions! I always love rambling about art, it's great :D