#there are other ways to break up with someone

[alwaysshallow]

johnny x reader, except you’re his prize.

let’s state the facts: your partner has a gambling problem. you first thought of it as innocent, but when your jewelry started to disappear piece by piece, when your laptop went missing, you started asking questions. it's your boyfriend after all, someone you trust so much, so he has to have a good explanation for all of this, right?

well, you wish you didn't ask him. you wish you wouldn't dig into it because it got to a point that you learned about his massive losing streak, debt. he promises you he won't do it anymore, and for some reason, you want to believe him.

you know you shouldn't, but you do. 

this trust breaks completely when he says that you have to move out to your parents again because he lost your shared apartment.

you're furious, calling him names until he says there’s actually a way to win it all back. 

you want to laugh when he says he can put you instead of the money. actually, you do laugh, but you stop the second you see he’s not joking. he says something about a “creepy, weird guy” that he’s playing with, and how he always encourages him to do so. because it will be “fun”. because there’s lot of adrenaline in that and you want to scream, when he really seems to think of it.

“i’m not gonna lose against him. i’m teaming up with a guy-” 

something tells you that you shouldn’t do it, but when your boyfriend brings the money a few times in a row in the next week, you gain hope. you visit the casino with him to see him play and to see the weird guy.

“the weird guy” doesn’t look weird at all; there’s a dangerous charm about him, about this mohawk that he has, broad shoulders and a jawline that could cut you.

his eyes are on you multiple times during the play. he acts like he owns the place when he doesn’t even look at the cards but at you, flashing you a smile. you see the hint of teeth in that smile, and you know that’s not good.

there’s nothing kind in it. it’s more predatory than anything.

and you know you’re right, when your boyfriend looks with shock at you, and the other men look defeated.

“this has to be a joke, right?” you ask, taking steps back when you see that the man is standing up. “something like this can’t be allowed, it’s just wrong, it’s—”

“wrong is also stealing,” the man says, tipping your chin up. “and you shouldn’t steal, bonnie. tha’s real bad, ye know? especially from me.”

there’s no pole for discussion when he throws you over his shoulder, when you’re about to throw a tantrum. he just laughs and tells you his name.

because apparently, you’re supposed to know it from now on.

[pucksandpower]

I’m Not Jealous!

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: you’re definitely not jealous of how your boyfriend and his teammate are eye-fucking each other … nope

Note: thank you to the brilliant @struggling-with-drivers for this amazing idea, I love you so much ❤️

You can’t take your eyes off Lando and Oscar as they chat animatedly in the McLaren motorhome after qualifying. The way they lean towards each other, the spark of energy crackling between them, the bright gleam in their eyes — it makes your chest tighten with a strange jealousy.

They’re so wrapped up in their conversation, casually touching each other’s arms for emphasis, that they don’t even notice you approaching. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Oh, hey babe!” Lando glances up with a warm smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s still buzzing from the adrenaline of the session, and you know how much he lives for these intense post-qualifying debriefs with his teammate.

Oscar throws you an acknowledging nod but doesn’t break his intense eye contact with Lando. “We were just going over the data from ...”

You cut him off with an impatient wave of your hand. “I don’t care about the data. Can I talk to my boyfriend for two seconds?”

Lando blinks in surprise at your curt tone but recovers quickly with a teasing grin. “Someone’s feeling jealous.” He slides an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side with a gentle squeeze.

You stiffen, hating how easily he can read you sometimes. “I am not jealous.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Lando rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Then why are you pouting like a petulant child?”

“I’m not pouting!” You protest, very much aware that your lower lip has surged into an exaggerated protrusion. You shoot Oscar a venomous glare when he fails to stifle a snort of laughter.

Lando laughs too, that bright, infectious giggle that somehow simultaneously melts and irritates you. “Aww, baby, you don’t have to be jealous of Oscar. We both have girlfriends, remember? You’re my one and only.”

He kisses your cheek with an audible smacking sound, as if to emphasize his point. But the reassurance doesn’t land — if anything, it makes you more prickly.

“Doesn’t feel like it when you two are constantly eye-fucking each other,” you grumble petulantly.

Lando blinks, his smile faltering briefly into an almost comically exaggerated expression of surprise. Then he exchanges a loaded glance with Oscar, the two of them breaking into wide grins.

“What?” You demand, feeling your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment and irritation. Did you really just say that out loud?

“Nothing, nothing,” Lando says quickly, still grinning wolfishly. “It’s just … eye-fucking, huh? Is that what you think we’re doing?”

“Well it certainly looks like it!” You retort, frantically trying to backpedal. “With all the intense staring and lingering touches and private jokes ...”

Lando’s grin stretches even wider, if that’s possible. “You’re just jealous because you want my undivided attention, aren’t you?”

Your mouth drops open, scandalized by his blunt words despite how accurate they are. “I … no!”

The protest rings pathetically hollow, even to your own ears. Lando sees right through you, as always. He cups your burning cheek, tsking softly.

“Aww, baby, you’re all needy and flustered now, aren’t you?” His tone is warm, almost purred, sending a shiver rippling through you. “It’s okay, I get it. Who could resist wanting every second of my time?”

You huff out a petulant breath, but it’s impossible to stay irritated when he’s gazing at you with such open affection. “You’re an ass.”

“Maybe.” Lando shrugs cheerfully. “But I’m your ass.” He leans in until his lips are brushing your ear, voice dropping to a hushed murmur. “And tonight, I’ll be giving you every second of my undivided attention.”

A full-body shiver races through you at the heated promise in his tone. You’re abruptly, acutely aware of Oscar watching this whole exchange with a smirk.

“Get a room, you two,” he drawls, not even trying to hide his amusement.

Lando barks out a laugh, pulling back just enough to wink roguishly at you. “Don’t mind if we do.”

“Wait, here? Now?” You squeak out, suddenly flustered all over again as he takes your hand and starts tugging you toward the back of the motorhome.

“Why not?” Lando flashes you a cheeky grin over his shoulder. “I told you, baby — I’m all yours tonight. No more sharing me with anyone else. Just you and me.”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob to the private room, giving you a slow once-over that makes your skin prickle with delicious heat.

“And I plan to give you my complete … undivided … attention.”

The husky emphasis he puts on those last few words sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You can’t resist stealing a quick glance over at Oscar, who has the decency to look away with a badly concealed smirk.

Then Lando is hauling you through the door and slamming it shut behind you, pressing you up against it as his mouth instantly finds yours in a searing kiss. You melt against him with a breathless moan, all thoughts of jealousy evaporating like mist as his hands roam hungrily over your body.

When you finally break for air, Lando’s eyes are dark with a blazing intensity usually reserved for the racetrack. He brushes a few stray strands of hair from your flushed face with uncharacteristic tenderness.

“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know,” he murmurs gruffly. “Oscar’s my teammate, my rival, almost like a brother to me … but you’re the love of my life. You’ll always come first.”

The raw sincerity in his words steals your breath. You can only nod mutely, suddenly blinking back stupid, overwhelming tears of relief and adoration.

Lando seems to understand. He just smiles that heart-melting smile and guides you toward the small sofa, settling you onto his lap and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap snugly around you, holding you close, making you feel deliciously secure and wanted.

“I’m sorry I got jealous and petty,” you mumble, tentatively running your fingers through his sweat-damp curls. “I know how intense your connection with Oscar is on the track. I was just being stupid ...”

“No, no.” Lando cuts you off firmly, pulling back to meet your gaze. “Your feelings are never stupid, baby. If I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, that’s on me.”

He punctuates his words with a soft, lingering kiss that deepens into something hungrier and needier when you clutch at the back of his neck, wanting him closer, closer ...

Some indeterminable time later, you reluctantly break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both pant for breath. Lando brushes his nose against yours, his eyes practically glowing with devotion.

“I really do love you, you know,” he murmurs, almost shyly. As if he hasn’t already made that abundantly clear a million times over. “More than anything. Or anyone.”

You hum contentedly, snuggling deeper into his embrace. You can feel the steadiness of his heartbeat, a reassuring counterpoint to the pleasant ache of desire still thrumming through your veins.

“I know. And I love you too.” You pause, tracing the line of his jaw tenderly. “Even when I’m being jealous and ridiculous.”

Lando throws his head back with a rich peal of laughter that warms you all the way to your toes.

“Good thing I love you even more when you’re being jealous and ridiculous, then,” he quips, sticking his tongue out impishly.

You swat at his shoulder with a scowl that quickly melts into a reluctant grin, unable to stay annoyed in the face of his boyish charm and unabashed affection.

You know, deep down, that you really don’t have anything to be jealous of — not with the way Lando holds you close and gazes at you like you’re the only person in the world. Still, it’s reassuring having the confirmation out in the open.

You snuggle deeper into his chest, basking in the comfortable silence and closeness. Lando’s fingers idly trace patterns across your back as you breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the sharp tang of adrenaline.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmurs eventually, breaking the peaceful quiet. There’s a rare vulnerability in his voice that makes your heart squeeze. “This life … the racing, the fame, the constant pressure … it would all be meaningless if I didn’t have you by my side.”

You tilt your head back to study his earnest expression, struck by the depth of emotion simmering in his warm multi-colored eyes. Impulsively, you reach up to cup his cheek, marveling at how easily he leans into your touch.

In these unguarded moments, it’s hard to reconcile this open, sensitive soul with the fierce, single-minded racer who commands a global spotlight. You feel extraordinarily privileged to be one of the few people who gets to see Lando like this — soft, devoted, his heart laid bare.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you whisper back fiercely. “I’m not going anywhere, Lando. I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

His smile is blinding, making your breath catch. Then his lips are on yours again, kiss brimming with a potent mixture of gratitude, need, and sheer adoration that steals your breath.

When you finally break apart, twin smiles of pure contentment tug at both your mouths. Lando loops his arms loosely around your waist, hands splaying across the small of your back as he simply holds you close and takes a moment to drink you in.

You watch the play of emotions flit across his expressive features — affection, longing, bone-deep satisfaction at having you here, now, anchored in his embrace. A sense of peace and belonging washes over you, chasing away any lingering shadows of jealousy or doubt.

This is where you belong. This is your heart’s home, right here in Lando’s arms, sharing his joy and success and weathering the storms alongside him. A love like this — passionate yet grounded, all-consuming yet secure — is worth fighting for.

You may occasionally get prickly twinges of irrational jealousy. You may bicker and tease and test each other’s patience to its limits. But at the end of the day, you know there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be.

Lando seems to read your mind, his grin taking on a distinctly smug edge as his fingers trace deliciously distracting patterns along your spine.

“See?” He murmurs. “Eye-fucking the teammate is all well and good … but this?” He punctuates the words by pulling you flush against him, letting you feel the undeniable evidence of his arousal. “This is what I really want. What I’ll always want, baby.”

You can’t resist rolling your eyes at his signature cockiness, even as you melt against him with a soft hum of contentment. Typical Lando — somehow managing to be both charming and infuriatingly self-satisfied at the same time.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, unable to keep the goofy smile off your face. “I get it, casanova. Now shut up and kiss me already.”

His answering laugh is pure sunshine, bright and carefree. Then he’s pulling you down into another heated kiss, effectively silencing any lingering self-doubt or jealousy.

This — the two of you, tangled up in each other with no barriers or secrets, just pure affection and insatiable desire — is what true love feels like. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

[captainreecejames]

my ex is a footballer || LN4 part 2

first part here

summary : the world finds out lando hit you up with a hey girlie text

pairing : lando norris x fem!reader

warnings : phil foden slander, cursing

faceclaim : giorgia wingham

twitter ---------

yn's messages ----------ynusername's story ------

landonorris posted ------

liked by kylianmbappe and others

landonorris hey girlie

load more comments

username23 bro is actually insane for this

username24 the lore behind this is crazy ↳ username25 wait can someone explain it to me I'm new to F1 ↳ username24 well basically we all think that lando told ynusername that her then boyfriend (philfoden) was cheating on her and this feels like a confirmation

maxfewtrell dude ↳ landonorris I'm a better footballer right ↳ maxfewtrell how about we just say you're a better man ↳ landonorris I'll take it, for now

username26 lando coming for f****'s job

carlossainz55 wrong team bro 😞 ↳ landonorris just a tour bro, don't worry

username27 HEY GIRLIE CONFIRMATION WE WIN

username28 yn upgraded for real

ynusername how did you not break your ankle? ↳ landonorris actually not sure, must have had a good luck charm with me

username29 now why would he post this?? yn really is dragging him down with being petty ↳ username30 right?? like she's such a problem ↳ username31 now I know yall aren't saying LANDO was corrupted by yn

ynusername posted -----

liked by oscarpiastri and others

ynusername out and about

username51 GIRL WHAT

bsfinstagram haha fucking nerd ↳ landonorris 😢 ↳ bsfinstagram norizz really makes sense ↳ landonorris yeah but I pulled yn, so it's actually yesrizz ↳ bsfinstagram I'm blocking you

username52 MISSED A FEW CHAPTERS HERE

username53 RUE!! WHEN WAS THIS??

username54 lando was trying to be all mysterious and yn said nah fuck that, hard launch time ↳ username55 which is so funny because I really expected it the other way around

ynusername funny story actually, wasn't supposed to post the pic with lando but 🤷🏼‍♀️ ↳ username55 LOLLL she messed up the soft launch

fodenfan1 downgraded forreal ↳ username56 no one asked you, forreal

landonorris why'd you use this picture?? ↳ ynusername it was an accident

[gremlingottoosilly]

Being friends with benefits with Slasher!König. His benefits are that he gets to experience having a girlfriend without you having to actually label yourself as his girlfriend. Your benefit is that you don’t die! :/

At least he isn't here for something serious. You're pretty sure he still doesn't fuck any other of his victims -- too ashamed, maybe, too scared to break them with his monster cock and be called a fucking beast by already duying girls. He was scared of you, too, at first - before you could label yourself as a really nice opportunity for him. Before you dragged yourself by your elbows and kissed him with all your might. Seduces him, even - he was ready to push a knife to your chest, but you didn't care. Just press your lips against his and hope for the better. It worked. Konig even lets you out of the house. You're sick of going blind into the forest, so you still stick by his side - playing a proper home girlfriend each time he forgets to drive you out in town. You hope he will eventually find a new toy, let you go - but his attachment issues run way deeper than his inability to commit. He is weirdly in love, killing everyone but you - kissing you instead of stabbing, pushing his lips all over. Making sure you're nice and warm under his touch. You fucking hate it, but it's not like there is a lot of what you can do - you just let him call you his girl, his doll, his everything but a girlfriend - because you knew he knows how harsh it would be for him, to actually fucking commit for once. Hey, at least he brings you gifts. Some open ribcages, sometimes just someone in a bag - sometimes he would just kiss you on your forehead before bringing a still beating heart in your grasp, Makes you touch it, play with it. Kisses you all over while you cry - and says that you're his favorite, so you won't end up like this. Probably not. Hopefully.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Mr Flavor Soda Part 2

Mr. Flavor's Soda gains traction once the creator starts selling in a fixed place. Anthony's Pasta also grows in customers when word gets out that there is a surefire way of crossing paths with Mr. Flavor on Mondays and Fridays.

It's mainly because Mr. Flavor has gained a reputation for being hard to find. It was almost as if he vanished from one side of the city to the next without so much as a hint of how he got there.

However, that didn't mean he wasn't well known. He was a young teenager, likely fifteen or so, who always rushed about Gotham doing questionable parkour.

People had seen him climb up fire escapes only to do crazy leaps, looking to be aiming for his knees to break on each landing. He was spotted doing cartwheels across walking lanes, sometimes going over the hoods of cars that stopped on the lines instead of around.

He deliberately looked for the most haunted places in Gotham, walking with a traveling tea set because "the ghosts like to have tea parties." He had picnics in the middle of dark alleys, asking the air if it would like a second cup but pouring nothing from his teacup.

People were often confused by his responses when speaking to him. Nothing he said was particularly bad, but it showed his severe social awkwardness.

Customers walked away bemused but holding bottles of delicious beverages.

Another odd thing about the boy was his refusal to sell any of his creations for more than a single dollar. Nothing in Gotham was cheap. A regular Zesti was at least two dollars and nineteen cents, but Mr. Flavor looked appalled to charge so much.

A kid claiming to be among the original group that discovered Mr. Flavor, bestowing him the nickname, quoted the strange soda maker as saying, "If someone gives me a dollar, then I am one dollar richer. But if someone gives me two dollars, then they are two dollars poorer instead of only one."

It sounded humble on the surface, but it didn't really answer the questions the kid had originally asked him which were: "Why do you only charge a dollar? Why not more?"

Some people in Gotham were weary of Mr. Flavor. He didn't sound all quite there in the head. He wasn't near the level of insanity of the supervillains running around, but it wouldn't be a surprise if they all woke up one day to find out Mr. Flavor had snapped.

The remaining skeptics also regarded his drinks with cautious eyes. Despite his claims and the word of Red Hood, many wondered if Mr. Flavor was putting some kind of drug in his drink, hoping to spread it to the masses with his cheap prices.

If he was even selling soda at all.

Zesti is a familiar and beloved brand, but Mr. Flavor was once seen tasting the beverage and shouting, "Is this cream soda?!" He then bought one bottle or can of every soda option from the same gas station.

Each one was apparent "cream soda" according to Mr. Flavor. It was confirmed that the drinks the young boy made were far from the flavor of what they considered soda.

Now, Tim didn't see anything wrong with that. Jason had brought back samples of the other's work, and though the ingredients were interesting, they were ultimately confirmed to be soda. Or as close to soda as Mr. Flavor claimed it was.

He was just a bit eccentric while wandering Gotham. Nothing to worry about. Tim, knowing Jason, Bruce- and maybe even Dick with how determined his eldest brother was to try one of the sodas- had everything regarding Mr. Flavor under control; he chose to turn his attention to a series of missing people reports hitting Old Gotham.

There was no visible connection with the victims besides all having long chestnut hair. Age, gender, and social class didn't matter to whoever was taking these people- and Tim knew they were being taken. Tim found it strange that people who vanished were last seen near the same area, having built a map showcasing they were being targeted within a triangle that covered well-known shopping districts.

It was a bit of ground to cover, but Tim figured if he wandered around there long enough, he would attract the kidnapper's attention. He opened his closet, dusted off his old wig, and an hour later, Caroline Hill made her way over to Old Gotham.

Tim originally hated his Caroline Hill as he did not like disguising himself as a woman, but over time, he grew to adore how easily he could change her backstory and his mannerisms to fit with whoever Caroline was that day.

Sometimes, Caroline was a first-year medical student working through clinicals and rotations. She was overworked, under a lot of stress from her assignments, and didn't have time to be distracted by a social life, much less a man asking her out.

Sometimes Caroline was a highschool student who enjoyed community service. She was friendly, outgoing, and more then willing to take the lead in projects. She was naive and sheltered not losing faith in people quite yet.

Other times, Caroline was a high school dropout who didn't know what she wanted. She would apply to any job that would hire her, dreaming of leaving Gotham one day to find a dream to chase. To her, life was dull and meaningless.

Caroline was even a fashion model once. She was famous for her streetwear outfits and gorgeous selt-taken shots. Tim was proud to say her submission to LexCorp's phone promotion contest was still being broadcast, and she received checks for her work. She oozed confidence as a woman who knew what and when she wanted it.

It showed in her walk as she strutted down Old Gotham, stopping to enter any clothing Boutique she saw under the pretense of looking for an outfit for a big-shot party. She was dressed like the world was her runway, but not a red carpet.

If anything, she dressed like a woman who used to live in Old Gotham during its glory days, gracefully wearing the vintage outfit.

Her attire drew the eye of more than one person, especially when she ran her hand through her long, lush hair, making it fall smoothly against her lower back.

Tim figured model Caroline would be a much more tempting target, mainly because she carelessly browsed the various shops and little cafes. Anyone who watched her could tell she was unaware of her surroundings, and Tim had to carefully ensure they never doubted her blindness for even a second.

It was well; he was in an antique shop, glancing at lipstick holders, when something finally happened. The door swung open with a bang, and he allowed himself to jump as it would be something Caroline would do.

"Sorry! I gave the door a little too much razzle instead of dazzle!" a voice yells. Tim twists around to see a boy his age, with wild black hair—as if he did try to run a comb through it, but the strains refused to yield—and big, sparkling, far too aqua eyes.

Was he wearing cheap color contacts? Or was he a meta?

"No problem, Danny." Ms. Pinkney, the owner, a sweet woman who had refused to marry and was now approaching her sixties, smiled back. "Are you here again to play with Cyrus?"

"Yup, I'm going to beat him today." The boy chirps, walking over to a display that was roped off. He didn't seem to care for the sign on the red rope that read "WARNING: HAUNTED BY ANGRY SPIRIT" as he stepped over it.

It was the notoriously cursed chessboard and the two original armchairs from the eighteen hundreds.

Tim knew of the rumor that the man responsible for Gotham's architectural style- Cysrus Pinkney- had been in the middle of a chess game with his friend Solomon Wayne on the eve of his fortieth birthday when he had died.

He had been poisoned in the middle of a large party thrown by Henry Cobblepot, and no one to this day knew who his murder had been. Following Pinkney's death, terrible things happened to anyone who tried to sit or even move the chessboard. Sounds of chess pieces clicking on the board, low mutters in a man's voice, and even the chair moving back and forth began to appear.

Figthen that Cysrus still lingered; Henry had gifted Cysrus's wife the two chairs, the board, and the table it sat on. She took it home and learned that only she and her children were allowed near Cysrus.

He attacked all the others, including Solomon and his other best friend, Amadeus Arkham. The attacks were so bad that everyone eventually knew not to bother Cysrus.

He became an Urban Legend of Gotham, and many tourists would travel to Old Gotham just to gawk at the Pinkey's haunted family heirlooms.

Tim watched him confidently sit in an armchair before a chessboard. He gave the opposite chair across from him a wide smile. "Hiya Cyrus."

A lamp near Tim was flung at the boy, who took the hit with a laugh. "No need to be rude."

The lamp shattered against the ground, appearing to have been lifted again, only to fall as the boy reached out and moved a pawn. Tim's stomach dropped. His experience with Greta had taught him that ghosts were very real and, when their deaths were left unsolved, often very violent.

This guy had no idea what he was dealing with.

He opens his mouth when the teenager is suddenly flung from his seat, flying across the room and smashing against the wall. Ms. Pinkney laughs as if she just saw a toddler throw a fit.

"Honestly, grandfather, must you be so rude? Danny is just trying to play with you."

Tim watches her hair shift as if someone- or something- was ruffling her hair. Yikes, it was a poltergeist who unliked Greta was not visible but able to touch anything he pleased.

"Knight G1 to F3!" Danny yells, climbing to his feet. The scraping sounds of something being dragged across the floor as Danny twists around with his arms spread wide as a very large wardrobe rushes at him. He welcomed the attack like an old friend, nose cracking as it broke.

"Going Ghost!" Danny screams through his blood, landing on the ground as the wardrobe nearly crushes him.

Tim's mouth drops open. He's taunting Cyrus!? Not challenging his existence but straight up taunting the angered spirit?!

"Grandfather!" Ms. Pinkney scowls. "Stop this at once! You're usually more friendly than this. Danny is a guest!"

"It's okay, Ms. P! I think it's almost Cyrus' death day. All ghosts tend to get a little cranky around that time. Besides we're scaring the lady."

It takes an embarrassing amount of time for " lady" Danny to refer to him as he still wears Caroline. It's enough for the boy to leap to his feet, pat himself down—ignoring the broken nose—and strut to Tim.

Before the undercover man can say anything, Danny yanks out a bottle and hands it over. "Sorry about that, ma'am. Here, I have one on the house."

A Mr.Flavor bottle is thrust into his hands; the bubbling clear water with the leaping boy has green and yellow undertones. It's the only difference to the bottle Jason showed him not too long ago.

The teenager smiles, his teeth colored red. "You're quite pretty. Have a good day! Don't let your drink get warm!"

Then he skipped right out.

"Wha?" He blinks, and Ms. Pinkney slides right up to him with a ruthful smile.

"I know what you're thinking. I don't believe Danny is eccentric, but he has a good heart." She starts carefully, studying Tim's face with far too much intensity. It's not the kind of attention that one gives someone who they are just trying to convince to leave someone else alone. Her eyes linger on his wing for a few seconds too long.

Isn't her shop smack in the middle of the missing people's map? Interesting.

"Who was that?" He says instead, making sure Caroline's voice sounds breathy and sweet.

She smiles "Danny. But most know him as Mr.Flavor."

Tim looks at the bottle in his hands, feeling the ice-cold beverage- did he just pull it out of a freezer?- and unclips it to have a sip. It's nothing like soda, but it is at the same time.

It was far smoother than other sodas, with far more bubbles, and the flavor made his tastebuds sing.

"Oh, looks like you got Sprite. That's one of my favorites," Ms Pinkney comments. "Rare that one. Danny usually sells out by now."

"Does he come here often?"

The old woman laughs. "I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree, dearie."

Not what he meant, but if it kept his new number one suspect to chat more, he is fine with the assumption.

"Does he not like girls?" Tim asks, allowing his features to pull into a pout. He is very grateful that her made Caroline young enough to pass for his own real age.

"I don't believe he likes humans, I'm afraid. Male or female."

Huh?

But Ms. Pinkney's attention was distracted by the chess board, which shook slightly as the pieces previously moved by Mr. Flavor returned to their starting positions. She walked over to carefully lift up the thrown wardrobe.

Tim is quick to help her, slowly restoring the shop to its former glory. It's only after they finish that the old lady glances in the direction in which Mr. Flavor disappeared.

"Grandfather Cyrus is my great-great-great-great-grandfather. It's easier for me to call him grandfather since he's been around for generations, but his closeness has made the family tree a bit sensitive to the paranormal. I'm unsure what Danny is, but he doesn't feel human." She sighs. "I doubt he will find what he is looking for if he continues going about things like this."

"Like what?" Tim asks, stepping closer. "What's Danny looking for?"

The old woman's dark eyes chill down his spine as she gazes at him. "Death."

In the corner of Tim's eye, a man sitting at a chess set nods his head. He decides it's a good time to end his daily undercover work. Tim leaves, strutting with less grace as his mind recounts everything he knows about Mr. Flavor.

He is unaware of the person watching him from the alley, eyes tracing the lovely mane of chestnut hair. The grin that blooms over their face is nothing else but hungry.

[hot-pota-toes]

"And they were roommates" (teaser)

Eddie Munson x Onlyfans Reader

MDN1 18+

WC: 700

Summary: Eddie's crush on his roommate is constantly weighing him down to the point that he's desperate to find any content that reminds him of her so he can jerk off and go to sleep. Imagine his surprise when he finds a video of you, legs spread as you touch yourself proudly on camera

Eddie shouldn't be doing this.

Eddie knows he shouldn't be doing this.

It was an accident, a complete accident. Eddie has been secretly crushing on his roommate for a few months now but hasn't done or said anything about it yet. You weren't trying to kill him, you'd just come into the kitchen to grab a snack wearing a baggy T-shirt and some torturously small sleep shorts. You weren't even doing anything intentionally sexual to set him off, but it was enough to make Eddie excuse himself to bed early to get rid of his growing hard on.

He had touched himself to the thought of you, multiple times actually. But this was the first time he was looking up someone like you to help fuel his imagination. He was looking up your hair color, your body type stuff like that into his porn searches but wasn't actually expecting to find you. He must've been seeing things there was no way that it was actually you. The thumbnail had you in nothing but your bra, legs spread, hand in between your thighs as you touched yourself, proudly smiling into the camera.

Holy shit, He tapped on the video to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating. He couldn't help it. He didn't even bother loosening his jeans before shoving his hand into his underwear. The woman that he's been pining after for months is right there, on his phone screen, getting herself off in her room. Her room. Which shared a wall to his room in their cramped apartment. Eddie has had heart eyes for you the second you moved in. His friends knew about this, saying that his crush on you was painfully obvious. He just hoped that it wasn't obvious to you.

He actually struggled to speak to you for the first few days, until you and some mutual friends all went out for dinner. Steve eventually pulled him aside and threatened to embarrass him in front of you, as a way of forcing his confidence. It didn't take long to break the ice, discovering that you both had a lot of similar interests. Now, both you and Eddie feel safe to call each other pretty close friends. Watching horror movies together on the couch, smoking weed together while blasting music. You had even gone to see a few of his shows at the hideout when you weren't busy.

For now, Eddie continued pumping his leaking cock, trying to match your pacing to you through the screen of his phone. He's almost hypnotized watching your fingers disappear inside yourself wishing that it was his instead making you feel so good. He can see how wet you are from the glistening on your fingers when you pull them out, And the wet sounds it makes when you put your fingers back in. Fucking hell. The regret will sit heavy on Eddie's chest tonight, but all he can think about is how sweet you look whilst you continue sliding your fingers through your folds, whimpering softly against the pillow, trying to stay quiet. If only Eddie could be there, on his knees with his tongue between your legs whilst you slide your fingers into his curls. You probably tasted so sweet.

Eddie cums in his pants with a soft whimper. It was uncomfortable and desperate, the worst kind of dampness. He instantly cursed himself for not removing any of his clothing before wrapping his fist around his cock. In his defense, his discovery was sudden and exciting, and Eddie didn't even think about locking his bedroom door, let alone preparing himself properly. As the video continues playing he starts scrolling through your channel and is surprised not just by the amount of videos you've posted. But the views, the likes, the comments, there were just so many. Not just on this one but all of them.

You'd never really told Eddie what you do for a living, it never really came up in conversation. He only knew that you work from home, which technically isn't a lie. But this is never what he would've guessed what you meant. The video eventually ended, fading to black with some white text appearing. Eddie enlarged the video again to read it. ‘Hey Guys!!! Thank You So Much For Watching! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) To see more of me Check Out My OnlyFans!!! Link Here!’

He was fucked

A/N: this is just a little taste of the first chapter of this fic ;) rn the word count just hit 7k but didnt want to post something unfinished. I'm touching up the ending and don't know how long it will take me to complete it. Hope you enjoyed this little teaser 😋

[chaotic-toasters]

Lowkey

Kim Little x Teen!Reader

Arsenal WFC x Teen!Reader

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

“Hey, kiddo!” Katie's voice boomed in your ear, making you jolt. “Ready for trainin’?”

You shrunk slightly as her arm wrapped around your shoulders, discreetly shaking it off. “Uh-huh.”

Pushing the door to the changing room open, you slipped inside, sitting down at your cubby with a quiet greeting to the other girls.

You loved your team, and you loved their dynamics, but some of them were simply too rowdy for you to handle. It was one of the reasons why you kept to yourself most of the time, not wanting to get overwhelmed.

You tied your laces, hands shaking slightly as you pondered the schedule for the day. You hadn't looked at it before you left home, so you were unaware of what time you'd have recovery.

After hesitantly asking Lotte for the exact time the team would have recovery, you finished putting on all your gear, shuffling out of the changing room and into the hallway.

“Aw, look, it's the team baby!” Kyra cheered, pulling you into a headlock and ruffling your hair. “Y/N, how ya’ doin’?”

You smiled awkwardly, gently freeing yourself from the Aussie's hold. “Hi, Kyra.”

“Cooney, get off her,” a gentle hand was placed on your shoulder, the soft touch a stark contrast to the stern Scottish voice behind you. “I've got some things to discuss with Y/N, and I need her in one piece.”

Kyra groaned, slinking away. “Fiiine.”

As soon as the Matilda was gone, Kim removed her hand from your shoulder, brushing the hair that had come loose out of your face. “You ‘kay, kiddo? I know she can be a lot sometimes.”

You nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

As the two of you started walking to the training pitch side by side, you couldn't help but think it was weird. The Kim Little was to your right, smiling at you warmly, letting you know that she was available if you ever needed her.

“I'll keep that in mind, thanks,” you said gratefully. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” the midfielder patted you on the shoulder. “I know what it's like to be one of the introverts on the team. Come chat with me if you're ever overwhelmed, I'd love to talk with someone who doesn't shout every time they talk.”

You snickered when the Scotswoman's eyes drifted over to Katie. “Okay, I will. Thanks, Kim.”

—----------------

You didn't even make it through half the day. After some of the girls had gotten too rowdy for you, you'd gone and found Kim to do partner drills with.

“I'm surprised you lasted this long,” she grinned, tapping the ball to you. “Viv has been here for years, and she still can't last more than an hour.”

You couldn't help but grin back. “I'm special that way.”

You felt comfortable with your captain, her personality extremely similar to yours in terms of demeanor and values. It was easy to open up to her, to tell her things that your other teammates didn't know, and you knew that this was a friendship that would be nearly impossible to break.

You could tell by the way the mischievous idea formed in your head when the sprinklers turned on, the sudden urge to tackle Kim into the splash zone impossible to ignore. You would never do such a thing to people that you weren't good friends with, but it was obvious to you that you and Kim were heading in that direction.

“Kim, what are you doin’ on our off-day?” Steph questioned.

Kim pondered for a moment, completely clueless to the you charging at her like a bull. “I'm not sure, I was ju— Y/N!”

She laughed as the two of you wrestled, water from the sprinklers splashing you both in the face and making it hard to see. “Y/N! Get off, you little rat!”

You grinned cheekily as you rolled around in the dirt. “I can't, there's a dinosaur on top of me!”

“Hey!” she complained, tackling you back to the ground as your teammates gaped. “I'm not that old!”

“Yes, you are!” you freed yourself from her grasp, sprinting off. “You're, like, sixty!”

“I'm in my thirties!” she yelled after you.

“Same th- oof!” You grunted as you slipped on the wet grass, falling flat on your back. “Owwwww.”

Kim snorted. “Your fault, not mine.”

“Wally?” You whined, sticking your arms up in the air and making grabby hands. “Help, I've fallen and I can't get up.”

The Swisswoman smiled in amusement, helping you up and wiping the dirt off your cheek. “Never seen you so comfortable, Y/N.”

You shrugged, waving shyly at the camera that you realized had probably caught the whole incident. “There's just something about Kimmy, I guess.”

“Awww,” Kim jogged up to you, pinching your cheeks and grinning. “So cute.”

You reddened, slapping her hands away. “No need to make it weird, Mum.”

“I'm not makin’ it weird, you're makin’ it weird!”

“No, you!”

“No, you!”

Katie crossed her arms indignantly as you and Kim tried to force each other to the ground. “How come I get told off for wrestlin’ Kyra?”

You stuck out your tongue, trying to sweep Kim's legs out from underneath her. “I'm just special!”

“I'm special!” Katie complained.

You waved your hand dismissively, digging your foot into the ground. “Just because your mum said it doesn't mean it's true.”

“HEY!”

[haikyu-mp4]

Classroom duty

word count; 1317 – f!reader

Iwaizumi was on classroom duty this week and he used to hate that. It meant that he got to volleyball practice late and didn’t even have time for a healthy snack. In addition, he had to make some kind of small talk with whoever he was paired with. It goes by the pairs in which the desks are placed and he was never the best at socialising outside of the athletic world.

However, classroom duty wasn’t so bad this time around, because ever since last break, he was paired up with you. Iwa didn’t notice you that much before, he just knew you were bright and kind. And of course, he couldn’t deny to the universe that you were nice to look at, but he would still keep trying to deny it to his friends. 

He knew he was fond of you. You with the cartoonish drawings of the teacher on the sides of your notes so you could make him smile in class. You with the lipgloss that looked like it might not taste good, despite how it made your lips look so biteable. You with the evil little laugh every time your paper ball would hit the trash and his didn’t. Yeah, Hajime Iwaizumi was very fond of you.

“Iwa?”

“Sorry,” he shook his head and chuckled awkwardly, glancing around at the pristine classroom. “What did you say?”

You snorted a laugh and turned around pointing to the garbage bags collected by the door and ready to be thrown away. “I said, let’s go?” Hajime spurred into action, happily finishing up here and putting those muscles to good use.

Usually, there was this thing where the people on classroom duty did rock paper scissors for who took the trash, letting the other off. No one knows who started it, but it stuck. Oikawa seemed to believe you and Hajime were the only ones who didn’t follow tradition.

“Why does she even go with you when all she does is hold up the lid on the trash can while you do all the heavy lifting?” Oikawa complained now that his best friend was finally back in his volleyball uniform. Some might say he was jealous.

Iwaizumi shrugged, about to answer when someone else did from behind him, making him turn around and causing Oikawa to lift a brow at the interruption.

“Sounds like she likes you.”

“Mad dog?” Oikawa exclaimed dramatically with a gasp. Kyotani glared at the setter.

“No, we just do it that way, you know?“ Iwaizumi said, sounding a bit like he was fishing to hear it again. Hear that you might like him.

“Okay, whatever,” Kyotani grumbled. Charming as ever. His two per cent of extra respect for Iwaizumi went into that effort and now it was spent.

They went back to practice, and Oikawa forgot about the interrupted gossip as soon as the practice game started, leaving Iwaizumi to mull this over himself. When this week was over, would you stop talking to him so much?

The next morning, you’re both there early to prepare the classroom, and Iwaizumi greeted you with a shy nod. “Last day!” you cheered. Iwaizumi’s eyes followed you for a few seconds as you skipped over to the teacher’s desk, where you picked up the note left by the teacher and then walked over to the chalkboard to prepare it. He liked how you were always so bright, even as you had to be there earlier than everyone else. And then he was happy to see you weren’t invincible, when you looked a little more tired in the evening while walking out with the trash, stubborn smile still directed at him like you refused to give up.

But for now, it’s still morning. “You sound excited, any plans this weekend?” he asked, leaving the mop in the corner after mopping the floors. Then he strolled up beside you, picking up the sponge to go wet it. You turned to glance at him exactly when he turned away. Maybe he’ll ask me out if I say no?

“Not much. Just happy it’s the last day we have to do these chores,” you said, seemingly carefree in adding little hearts and stars around what the teacher wanted. It made Iwa smile as he placed the wet sponge on the little edge beneath the chalkboard.

Wait, she’s happy we’re done? Maybe Kyotani is totally clueless. “Oh,” he said, not meaning to. “Me too.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” you teased, putting the chalk down and turning to him. “You like taking the trash out?”

“Maybe…” he said defensively, clenching his fists and then unclenching them again. “I like hanging out with you.” There, at least he said something.

“Iwaizumi…” He looked at you hopefully but glanced away quickly when he realised his face was burning. “You know we still sit beside each other when the week is finished, right? It’s not like I’ll stop talking to you.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, embarrassment sinking into every nerve of his body because he hadn’t much thought about that. “Of course,” he said first like it was instinctual. I just like hanging out with you alone. That’s what he should have said. Instead, he stuttered out meaningless sounds for a second before the bell rang and students started rushing to their seats, meaning you had to move too.

Oikawa sighed from the entrance to the classroom, in absolute disbelief at how his best friend, the ace of all aces, in his opinion, could fumble so badly for a girl.

“Iwa-chan!” Iwaizumi closed his eyes at the agitating, grating voice that interrupted his peaceful lunch on a bench outside in the sun.

“Shittykawa.”

“Hey! I’m here to help you.” He sat down beside his best friend, opening his bento and stuffing some food in his mouth. Iwaizumi was chewing slowly and waiting to hear more with a disinterested look on his face.

“With?”

“Your love life.”

Oikawa went on a rant about grand gestures, making some very grand gestures himself while explaining, and Iwa could just not figure out why the girls swooned for him when he looked so stupidly invested in his stupid plan for his stupid love life.

“Are you even listening?” Oikawa asked, angrily stuffing another spoonful of food into his mouth.

“Absolutely not. I will not be renting a horse and armour.” And even though that was evidence he had in fact listened, Oikawa was not pleased that his best friend didn’t seem to understand what an expert in love he was. “She’s probably not even interested.”

“Iwa!” Another voice said, making him turn around and almost knock over the water bottle beside his bento.

“That you listen to.” Oikawa mocked from his side, but anything he said went in one ear and out the other once again, when his eyes fell on you.

“Hey,” Hajime greeted you, somewhat awkwardly as you hadn’t chatted much outside the classroom or on the way to the trash containers. “What’s up?”

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” you asked, your words sharing space with a sigh as you had jogged over.

“He’s not,” Oikawa answered, and while that would normally make him annoyed, he just repeated it while still looking at you.

“I’m not.”

“Maybe we can go out for some ice cream? Or a coffee?” you asked further, and it was obvious that you were nervous despite trying to seem confident, not smiling like you usually did. He didn’t answer right away, so you involuntarily went into a word vomit. “I was waiting for you to ask, but then you didn’t and if you’re not interested then we can just forget this, but…” You stopped and looked at him hopefully, one hand on either hip.

“Take him, please.”

Iwaizumi didn’t even need to look to plant his hand over Oikawa’s face before giving you an endearing smile. “I’m interested. Coffee sounds perfect.”

masterlist

/a special thanks to @cottonlemonade for helping me with my writer's block for this one

[allurilove]

Yandere x Zombie you

Rated 18 + — mature short content!

Includes: He tries to sew his dick back on, stalking, begging, mentions of dead bodies and blood, cannibalism?, gender neutral reader, unrequited love.

*This is the second part to the first one! Check the first one when you can! He is referred to as “your stalker” and this is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: You thought that by eating him he would leave you alone. However, he just comes back to life- continuing to follow and bother you.

You never saw yourself becoming a zombie “mentor” especially to your stalker, but he’s so defenseless and dumb, it’s hard not to step in.

You try to keep him in line, making sure he doesn’t make any romantic advancements towards you, but he doesn’t listen.

He screamed in agony as you munched on his body, his heart beats becoming faint, and he finally let out his last breath. You pulled back, and admired your work. There is a huge chunk of his torso missing, and there are little bites everywhere. You lick your lips, his sweet blood tasted nice, and he was one of the better meals you’ve had.

That was months ago. You moved on, and you were looking for your next victim. It seemed like the humans were getting smarter, they knew to avoid certain areas as they became zombie hotspots. You shuffle through the forest, moving your head back and forth to detect any movement.

Your eyes zero in at the man that stands by the lake, he’s so still and he’s barely moving. His face is flat, eyes are bloodshot, and he lets out a groan. Your eyes trail down lower, and you realized he didn’t wear any pants.

Gross.

Your stalker jerked awake, his eyes widening and he put his hand on his chest. He felt his still heart. He pats himself down, his hand grazing his smooth hip. Shit. His cock. He slowly looked at the dick that was tossed to the side, it was limp and oddly colored. He almost missed it.

He pouted as he crawled to his dismembered body part, and he took it into his hand. He had an idea. It took him awhile to find his footing, and he kept tilting to one side. His body couldn’t really support himself after you did a number on him. He pushed himself to try to remember the area he was in, most of the buildings had turned to dust, and it was unrecognizable with all the blood and dead bodies.

He sighed as he had to shove his way through the door, a dead body right in front of the entrance and when he finally got in, the body got smushed against the wall. He gagged as the body “popped.” He stumbled his way into the store, and he looked around for a needle and thread.

The place he was in used to be a “Joanne’s” and he sometimes came here for yarn and fabric, he went to the familiar aisle, and started to look for what he needed.

He rummaged through the basket filled with left over thread, he decided on a color, and he hoped that pink would help his… misfortunate situation… prettier. He had his shirt in his mouth so he could get a good look at his hips, he shimmed off his pants, and he aligned his dick to where it would usually be.

He let out a surprised yelp when he pierced the needle into his skin, he continued to sew his cock back on, and eventually it was done. He let out a sigh of relief, letting his saliva coated shirt out of his mouth. He tossed the needle to the side, and he examined himself in the reflection of the window.

He thinks he looked good. Probably better than all the other male zombies out there. And now, all he had to do was to find you. Maybe you would date him now that you two were the same species. He walked around for months, trying to find you, taking breaks to eat, and damn was it hard to convince someone to let you eat them. He would gesture wildly, pointing at the scared human and then at his mouth- he started to make chewing noises. The human screamed and shoved him out of the way.

How rude!

He groaned as he had to pick himself back up, which always took him awhile. He sighed as his stomach rumbled and he began his hunt for another poor soul.

And then he saw you. It was like his heart could start pumping again, and his cheeks turned pink. He was almost in shock that he was able to find you like this, and he couldn’t believe his luck. You finally stared back at him, your eyes were on him and he was elated. His feet started to walk, and he sped towards to you- almost breaking into a sprint. He opened his arms to engulf you into a hug, you were about to get tackled, but you swiftly moved out of the way.

He landed onto the ground with an oomph!

He whined as he had no more energy to pick himself up. Your ears perked up as you heard his stomach growl, and… was he crying?

You bend down and you roll him onto his back. His eyes drift towards yours, so lifeless and glazed over, he pouted and he reached for you again. You slapped his hand down. You took pity on the man, and you made sure not to make any eye contact with his nude lower half. You helped him get up, forcing him to lean against a tree, and you hand him a piece of meat you’ve been saving up for emergencies.

You couldn’t help but gag at the sight of his dick flopping about. Does he have no shame?? And when you two came across a human who was near close to death, you heartlessly just walked right over, and yanked his pants off. Your stalker puts the pants on as he watched you devour the person.

The pants were quite snug, and he winced as the crotch area was very uncomfortable for him. He slowly sank down to his knees, and he cautiously opened his mouth.

You slowly look up at him, expecting him to start eating on the human, but he just waits. You let out an angry groan and you take a good meaty chunk off the man’s thigh, you spit it out onto your hand, and you gave it to your stalker. Which he gladly takes. He didn’t care that it was covered in your saliva, and he swallowed it whole.

Your stalker waddled as he followed you, his legs looking like they were about to burst through his pants. However, it did make him walk a couple of feet behind you. He couldn’t speed up and press himself right against you, his breath hot on your neck, and his hands wouldn’t be able to wander on your body. So that was a bonus.

You lied to him that zombies slept. He was a… fledgling of sorts, and he didn’t really know the “rules.”You just wished that he would leave you alone. You would lay down onto the grass, and he slides himself right next to you. He fluttered his eyelashes and he subtly tried to wrap his arms around you. You gesture that zombies did not hug, and he said that you two could start a new phenomenon.

You tied him up that night. He stood straight as an arrow, the tree and ropes holding him firm. You tossed around, trying to get your body to sleep. Sensing your restlessness, he let out a sound that he only knows how— a whine. It’s the sort of whine that dogs use to get the attention of their owner.

You ignore him of course, however, it led him to start whining even more. He tried to writhe out of the ropes, grimacing as the rope grinds onto his skin. He starts to move around like a fish out of water, and he pouts heavily. You let out a frustrated growl, your hands gripping at the grass before you rip it out of the ground, and throw it at the male zombie. He coughed, his mouth sputtering as he tried to spit it out.

It was the middle of the night when your body finally relaxed, but your ears picked up on some gnawing noises, and you slowly opened your eyes. Foamy drool and saliva dripped out of his mouth, his teeth firmly latched onto the rope as he tried to cut himself out. You roll your eyes and you rest on your elbows, watching the man cut through the final thin string that kept him apart from you. When he bursted out of his binds, he approached you again. He got onto his knees, his hands clasping together, and he pleaded.

He wanted to feel your body against his, for you to wrap your arms around his waist, and for him to be able to nuzzle his face into your neck. He wanted you to touch him- not because you had to eat him- but because you loved him. What does a man have to do for you to pay attention to him? He already tried to cut off his dick for you, but you didn’t want it. He fed you, kept you safe, and stalked you around to make sure you were doing okay. He even tried to trap you for your protection.

Your stalker was just worried about your wellbeing. He started to bow his head, his forehead resting on the ground as tears swelled up in his eyes. He started to sniffle, his hands still together in prayer that you would let him be with you. That you would let him be yours. If he could form a coherent sentence he would beg. He would use his words to sway you (that never worked) and he would say the sweetest, and the kindest and truest words known to mankind.

You are magnificent in his eyes. You are so captivating, and sultry in your own way. He has never met someone like you, and he wasn’t planning on letting you go. You are a rare find, a person that only comes every thousandth year.

So, why not him?

Why didn’t you want to be with him?

He slowly looked up, holding back his tears, and he saw that you were…. gone.

Allure: tysm for 560+ followers! This fic is pretty unedited, and I’ll fix the mistakes later!

[emobutterfly9]

Synastry/Composite Notes

3H/Gemini Moon in Composite is a favorite of mine. Everything under the sun will always be spoken about. There will never be a dull moment. U too talk about everything & everyone. Even if both individuals aren't the most talkative, in this relationship they will be. you feel the most understood you've ever been. Deep conversations are a daily occurrence. They feel the need to talk to each other on a regular basis, they talk the most out of all the ppl they know. Texting, calling, going on walks, hand holding, kissing and hugging is a frequent occurrence.

10H sign shows how outsiders view the relationship. If in Libra, ppl will gush and adore the relationship. These are the ppl you look at and think of them as the perfect match for each other, esp if you know them personally. These are usually the couples that leave other ppl heartbroken by breaking up. From the outside the relationship looks damn near perfect. These ppl give "couple goals". You usually don't see scandals or arguments between these couples. Everyone thinks that you've finally found the one.

Venus trine/sextile NN syn-The venus person shows the node person a love they've always craved and most importantly a love they NEED and have never had before. this helps the node person grow into the person they're supposed to grow into and thrive.

Mercury sq Mercury-may have the same ideas, think the same thing, have the same end goal, yet they express themselves differently which can lead to misunderstandings. They both may want things executed their way (esp if in cardinal signs) and may think their too diff when in reality they're both just too hardheaded

Chiron synastry, will either heal each other or make their wounds worse

7H NN synastry-the node person teaches the house person about true love and that it's okay to want or need someone. the house person can see the node person as their ideal spouse. marriage is likely.

1H Mars in comp-martian energy is very prominent and must be released in physical ways together. Such as working out, having sex often, etc

1H chiron in comp-this relationship usually heals and makes u face all your deep inner wounds. theres no way to run from them. U overcome your fears becuz of each other. both partners feel their own levels of insecurity. They feel like they can overcome anything as long as their tg. They usually have a strong destiny and purpose tg. even in the rxship they've been thru a lot tg, more towards the first year.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Ok, I don't really post here, but there's a Merlin AU idea that's been rattling around in my skull like it's a pinball machine and I need to get it out, so here we go:

Imagine an AU where Balinor doesn't die and banishes Kilgarrah before sneaking away so Uther doesn't catch him and can't put his newfound son in danger. Of course, both he and Merlin are heartbroken about having to be separated again after just finding each other, but they work out a way to keep in touch and occasionally meet in secret.

And this is all well and good, and everything in the show just kinda proceeds as normal up until about season 4, where we have the knights of the round table well-established in Camelot.

It'd make sense that after a few years of travelling around with Kilgarrah, Balinor would be pretty well-known and well-feared throughout all the five kingdoms as "that dragonlord who escaped the purge and now travels around on the back of a giant dragon", and people all over Albion are kinda terrified of the guy.

Rumors say that he never smiles, that he can kill a man in a split second without even utterring a spell, and can decimate kingdoms with the dragon under his total command. That makes for a formidable figure!

And then one day, Balinor is trying to sneak into Camelot to visit his son (he heard Merlin got hit by a dorocha and wants to make sure he's ok!), and the knights see him and freak out because holy shit that's one of the deadliest guys in Albion!

They're in a tense standoff, with Balinor threatening to call down the dragon on them if they don't let him through. The knights are all ready to give their lives to at least buy the people in the castle time to evacuate, when suddenly Merlin and Arthur make it to the standoff. Arthur immediately starts strategizing with his knights on how they're going to negociate with the sorcerer in an attempt to make sure that they aren't all slaughtered.

Meanwhile, Merlin just laughs and pushes through the rows of knights blocking Balinor's path to the castle. The knights, being very fond of Merlin and not wanting to see their kind little friend be brutally murdered by one of the most terrifying men in exsistence, are trying to grab Merlin and pull him back to safety or shouting at him to get back, but Merlin manages to avoid them as he walks up to Balinor.

For a horrifying moment, the knights and Arthur think that Merlin is about to sacrifice himself for them, but Merlin breaks into a huge grin, yells "Dad!", and runs right into Balinor's arms.

(Merlin and Balinor reason that now that Arthur's king, they might as well start easing him into some of Merlin's less shocking secrets)

And even more shockingly to the knights, Balinor hugs him back, asking Merlin all about how he's been doing, how are his studies under Gaius, etc etc.

And all of the knights just bluescreen. Because the math isn't mathing on this one. Hunith + Balinor = MERLIN?! Does not compute.

They're all pondering how could someone as joyful, friendly, and kind as Merlin be the spawn of a terrifying man like Balinor?? They just cannot comprehend it. The manservant who they all know and love came from this sorcerer who's name is synonymous with the threat of death and destruction??

They're all jolted back to reality however when Balinor asks Merlin if he wants to come back to Balinor's newly-renovated stronghold in the mountains (that's only accessable by riding a dragon) to learn more about one day becoming a dragonlord. And suddenly, the knight understand why Balinor's here. He wants to kidnap Merlin from them and twist him into a terrifying sorcerer to carry on Balinor's legacy!

It all basically dissolves into a long game of high-stakes tug-of-war between Balinor and the knights + Arthur, and Merlin's just enjoying spending time with his father and his friends.

Balinor will just casually crash one of their quests while riding Kilgarrah and "kidnap" Merlin while the knights fight to keep Merlin with them.

Balinor eventually gives Merlin Aithusa so he can get practice raising dragons, and the knights see it as some evil scheme to make Merlin betray Camelot and attack it from within, but damn it Merlin's already adopted the damn thing so now they're stuck with a baby dragon.

IDK if I'd ever write a fic about it since I'm pretty busy writing another fic rn, but I thought that it was a funny idea to throw out there!

PS: if anyone wants to read my current project, where I'm giving Sir Leon more anxiety with each chapter after a kinda-botched magic reveal on Merlin's part (and Merlin may or may not be an eldritch god), feel free to check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54027337/chapters/136771564

Thank you all for sticking with my incoherent rambling! :D I hope you have a great day/night!

Also, please let me know if you guys wants to hear more of the ideas that pinball around in my head!

[imloyaltoscoups]

just a normal morning | kim mingyu

"Morning," you greeted him half-heartedly.

"It's already afternoon," he pointed out, his tone light with a hint of amusement.

You rolled your eyes. "Well, what time did you wake up then?" you retorted.

"Just two hours ago," Mingyu replied, his attention still focused on the stove.

"Exactly," you sighed, giving in to your exhaustion as you propped yourself up on the countertop, opting for the comfort of its cool surface over a proper chair. Sometimes, lounging was just more appealing than sitting properly.

He then turned off the stove and made his way over to you, his warm hands cupping your face gently. His touch was comforting, and you couldn't help but lean into it, despite your stubborn mood. His grin softened as he squeezed your cheeks playfully.

"Why is my baby girl so grumpy?" he teased, his canine teeth peeking through his grin, adding to his charm.

You reciprocated Mingyu's gesture, cupping his face in your hands. "I don't know, maybe someone didn't let me sleep last night," you replied with a hint of playful accusation, your eyes flickering down to his neck and shoulder. There, unmistakable hickeys and bite marks adorned his skin.

He caught the mischievous glint in your eyes as they roamed over his body, lingering on the evidence of your shared passion. With a playful chuckle, he gently tilted your chin upwards, drawing your attention back to his face.

"Hey now, my eyes are up here," he joked, his tone light and teasing.

You squinted your eyes at him in mock disbelief before wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your foreheads together. A smile tugged at Mingyu's lips as he reciprocated, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

As the silence enveloped you both, Mingyu broke it with three simple words, "I love you." he whispered, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

A smile spread across your face, your heart swelling with warmth. Without a word, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. You could feel Mingyu's smile against your lips as he kissed you back.

His lips were soft and warm against yours, his hands started to roamed your body with a gentle priority, fingers tracing the curves of your back, sending shivers down your spine. You responded, tangling your fingers in his hair.

The kiss deepened, becoming more fervent with each passing moment. Mingyu's lips moved with a hunger that mirrored your own, a silent plea for more, for deeper connection. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and you welcomed him eagerly, the taste of him overwhelming your senses.

As your tongues danced in a passionate embrace, a soft moan escaped your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss. Mingyu's hands roamed lower, cupping the small of your back, pulling you flush against him until there was no space left between your bodies.

Time seemed to stand still as you became lost in the rhythm of your breaths, the pounding of your hearts echoing in the silence.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, a sound of contentment and surrender. Mingyu responded with a gentle hum of approval, his lips moving against yours with a renewed sense of urgency.

As you finally pulled away, your foreheads remained pressed together, your breaths mingling in the air. Gazing into each other's eyes, you cupped Mingyu's face in your hands, showering him with affectionate kisses. One by one, you kissed the tips of his nose, his forehead, both sides of his cheeks, and finally, one last smack on his lips, accompanied by a playful smack sound. "I love you too." you whispered.

He laughed at your display of affection, his eyes sparkling with adoration. He pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapped securely around you. "There you go again making me love you more," he whispered, his voice filled with love and sincerity.

Your stomach suddenly grumbled loudly, breaking the tender silence between you. He chuckled, pulling away from the embrace slightly. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "I should finish cooking," he said with a smile.

Before he could step away, you wrapped your legs and arms around him like a koala, clinging tightly. "You can cook while I'm like this," you declared, nuzzling your face into his neck.

Mingyu laughed heartily, the sound vibrating through your entire body. "Alright, baby koala." he said, adjusting his grip to support you better. He carried you effortlessly back to the stove, your arms and legs securely wrapped around him.

Balancing you with ease, he resumed his cooking, stirring the contents of the pot with one hand while holding you with the other.

"You're making this a bit challenging, you know," he teased, glancing at you over his shoulder.

"That's the point," you quipped back, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before nuzzling into the crook of his neck again.

Mingyu chuckled and shook his head, but you could feel the smile tugging at his lips. With you clinging to him like this, he knew that cooking might take a bit longer, but he doesn't mind it at all.

....... ≿━━━━༺MINGYU༻━━━━≾ .......

[writers-potion]

Writing Group vs. Group & One vs. Many Fight Scenes

Group vs. Group

To win the readers' sympathies, make sure there are more (and stronger) bad guys than good guys.

Portray a strong "them versus us" mindset. Sometimes, this is a microcosm of a larger religious, social, racial conflict.

Visual clues are often used to emphasize the divide between the two groups: black coats versus white suits, jeans against shorts, etc. They'll have different weapons, use different languages or speech patterns.

Each group will have a leader who spearheads strategies and motivates the rest. This can be an established leader like the eldet sibling, the head girl of the school, etc. Or someone who has the respect of the others and takes charge spontaneously when the situation rises.

The Point of View

Group fights are easiest to write in omniscient PoV

Otherwise, choose a PoV character who is invovled in most action, and restrict yourself to their line of vision. You can take short breaks (like two seconds after he kills his immediate opponent) to account for how his comrads are doing.

One vs. Group

1 vs. many fights where the single person comes up triumphant are fun, but hardly plausible. The key is to provide an illusion of reality.

Keep the number of opponents realistic: three, not thirty.

He would be more highly trained/have special powers than all of his opponents.

He is positioned in such as way that all of his opponents come at him from only one direction (like having his back to a wall), or he stands in a higher terrains from where he can keep an eye on all of them.

She identifies the group's leader and takes him out first.

She creates a situation which forces the group to spread out, or hits when they are already dispersed rather than tightly knit together.

He uses a weapon which can take out several opponents at once. The most effective one for this would be a machine gun, or the hero holding two swords, one in each hand.

If you want the bad guys to come at the hero one by one, some ideas:

The hero has aken p position in a place where only one villain can squeeze through at one time

The attackers don't arrive simultaneously. They come running, and each attacks as soon as they reach the hero.

The gang has a code of honor which demands 1:1 fights.

The fight is an initiation requirment where the newbie must prove themselves in 1:1 combat with all of the established members.

Some tips:

If a hero with superior arms taking on many who are unarmed will make the readers see him as a butcher, and their sympathies will be lost for good.

If he take out too many opponents at once, the readers wouldn't feel like he has really put up a fight. If your hero has a superpower that allows him to do this, establish the boundaries of this power and push the hero to the limit.

If the novel has too many 1:many scenes, it will lose its dramatic effect, and worse, seem unrealistic as you move along.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

[mncxbe]

# pm!dazai who has a crush on his partner/rival ݁ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: jealous, slightly posessive dazai, mild enemies to lovers, dazai and his complicated feelings

"i can't believe you actually have a crush on Chibi. what's so special about him?" huffed the brunette, leaning against the lamppost behind him. the dim, golden light bounced off his brown curls, illuminatung his downcast expression.

"what, are you jealous?" you retorted, earning a scowl from Dazai. "don't be ridiculous."

it was mere hours ago that your archenemy found out that Chuuya asked you out on a date. an insignificant thing, really, but it vexed him. what on earth could you possibly see in that redhead midget? he just had to know, and as petty as it might be, he was dead set on changing your mind about going on that date. even if it meant following you back home and talking things out with you in front of your apartment at 9 p.m.

"i'm just saying, Nakahara isn't your type. i know it" argued the brunette, crossing his arms over his chest. "he's temperamental, immature, totally unfunny and shorter than you"

"maybe i'm into guys like that" you shrugged absentmindedly, applying an extra layer of gloss on your plump lips.

Dazai had to admit you looked absolutely stunning in that outfit. he felt his cheeks warm up as his gaze lingered on your lips but he quickly looked away, shaking his head. "that's not possible. are you really that desperate to get a boyfriend?"

"well, summer's coming soon. i need someone to take pretty pictures of me at the beach and to buy me flowers" you smiled, fully turning to face him "you got a problem with that?"

"you bet i do. that's just vain and i don't see where Chuuya comes in. you could date any other guy."

"yea, but i like Chuuya. besides, we get along well and he actually knows how to treat a woman"

and I don't? Dazai wanted to ask. his blood boiled, jealousy clouding his judgement as he peered down at you. imagining you and Chuuya together holding hands and walking down the halls of the Port Mafia's headquarters, kissing and cooing at each other like a lovey dovey couple made his stomach churn. it felt wrong in so many ways, yet here you were, waiting for the redhead to pick you up for a date. with each minute that passed Dazai's irritation grew.

"for someone who knows how to treat a woman he sure is late for your date" he scoffed, rolling his eyes. you took a step closer to the brunette, a mocking smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"you're acting so petty right now. damn, you must be really jealous"

"i'm not jealous" Dazai's sharp glare returned to you, clenching his fists as he leaned closer to you. "i just think it's stupid. you two would never work out"

"how do you know that?" you pressed, chuckling at his unfounded claim. you weren't used to seeing Dazai like this, so worked up about something so insignificant.

"because i know you and i know Chuuya and you're a recipe for disaster. i'll be damned if i let you get heartbroken by that idiot" without realizing, Dazai leaned closer to you, his body towering over yours. he was seething, glaring down at you. his chocolate brown eyes seemed almost black in the dark, menacing, a warning of his bad mood. you knew you should stop pushing him, but you just couldn't help yourself. you wanted him to say what he truly had on his mind.

"and who are you to say who gets to break my heart and who doesn't?" your words struck a cord and Dazai's features darkened. it was a damn good point: he wasn't your friend, just a colleague. no, your self proclaimed archenemy. although you've known each other for years, he knew there was no deeper connection between you than the childish rivalry. but that was enough to make Dazai grow attached and develop a sense of ownership over you. or maybe feelings? in any case, how could he possibly allow Chuuya to take you away from him? he swore he could see red before his eyes when your phone's screen lit up and he read Chuuya's name on display.

before you could answer Dazai seized your wrist, wrapping a hand around your jaw to tilt your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze. he brought his face mere inches away from your, so close you could feel his hot breath against your lips as he spoke. "who i am? i'm the one who's been by your side all this time, though thick and thin. yea, you're an annoying brat most of the time and i hate your guts but i'll be damned if i let Nakahara take you away from me. you're mine, got it? i'll take your stupid pictures at the beach and buy you flowers if that's what it takes for you to drop this stupid date"

your breath caught in your throat at his sudden outburst. did he actually confess? it didn't quite feel like it. your gaze mused on his features as you searched for answers, but you didn't find any in the sharp line of his mouth or the furrow of his brows. "so... what are you asking me to do?" you breathed out, a mere whisper that sent shivers down Dazai's spine. he let go of your wrist, wrapping a steady arm around your waist.

shit, he really didn't think this though. he's never been good with his words and now that he had you in his arms, so close he could smell your intoxicatung scent and feel the warmth of your breath on his skin his brain short-circuited. "i... i'm asking you to stay with me tonight. and from now on. i'll take you to dinner instead" he said softly, his harsh features melting away when you nodded. "thought you hated my guts" you chuckled, gathering the courage to cup his face with your hand. his skin was surprisingly soft. Dazai leaned into your touch, a shadow of a smile etching itself on his features "well... i wasn't lying. but i hate the idea of you dating Chuuya more. can't let him put his hands all over my pretty girl" sighed the brunette, his lips ghosting over yours "so? will you stay with me?"

goosebumps raised on your skin as you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his. the kiss was heated, desperate but oh so loving. threading his fingers through your hair, Dazai gently tugged at your roots, making you mewl into his mouth. when he pulled back, his signature smirk was back in place. "i'll take that as a yes then?"

"yea, idiot" you giggled, looking down at your phone to hide your blush. "just let me text Chuuya not to come then we can go grab some food"

Dazai nodded, taking a few steps back. he was beyond pleased with himself. though he didn't necessarrily planned to confess, things went smoother than he thought they would. and he finally got a date with the girl he liked and snatched her from Chuuya. there couldn't be any better turn of events. you watched Dazai lean back against the lamppost with a content smile and you could barely suppress a laughter.

opening Chuuya's chat, you quickly typed in a text.

AAGHHSJSJ!!! your plan worked Dazai asked me out. Chuuya you're a fucking genius thanks for this. i owe you big time bestie.

[konic0]

"It's so unfair to the Rat Grinders that they are killed instantly and the Bad Kids get to roll death saves." SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUP

THIS IS LONG, AND HONESTLY FOR MYSELF, SO YEAH READ IF YOU WANT

I swear to god, this discourse is going to fucking be the end of me. Idk what kind of mind boggling spell Brennan Lee Mulligan wove into the fabric of the universe that spread through the data center of Dropout in order to absolutely hijack y'all's brains when it comes to Cocklord Assgape and her ragtag of character foils but whatever it was has made you Rat Grinder stans INSUFFERABLE in this site.

The levels of treating fictional characters as if they were real people have reached a level I honestly have never anticipated, to the point of y'all actually being mad AT THE CAST for "mistreating" them and ACTUALLY QUESTION BRENNAN'S CAPACITY TO DM. Do you not get how fucking insane that is?

We can't make fun of Copperkettle, one of the most pathetic, petty and incompetent villains in D20 history anymore (even though she is masterfully written and developed to generate this reaction from us) anymore because it's bullying apparently. I saw an account flip the fuck out because someone compared her rivalry with Kristen to Drake and Kendrick's beef. KIPPERLILY IS NOT A REAL GIRL. SHE IS A MAKE BELIEVE CHARACTER IN AN IMPROV SHOW SPAWNED FROM THE BRAIN OF A 36 YEAR OLD MAN

And then what truly pissed me off the MOST about this whole hell is the fact that, being chronically online avid consumers of this goddamn show, I would think you would have but a grasp of the main cast of characters' characterization.

Why the uproar about Riz saying they should chop Oisin's head off? The same Riz who tortured that pixie from Freshman year by shooting off their finger one by one? The same Riz who murked a disarmed and unconscious Coach Daybreak without battin an eye? The same Riz who ATE THE CORPSE OF KALVAXUS?

And the whole Fabian vs Ivy debacle MY GOD, THE GIRL WAS RACIST TO HIS GIRLFRIEND AND USED HER LAST BREATH TO CALL MAZEY "OBJECTIVELY UGLY". And the funniest thing is that is not even the most unhinged shit he has ever said.

And finally, Death Save Gate: THE RAT GRINDERS ARE NOT PLAYER CHARACTERS. THEY ARE NPCS! THE RULES FOR EACH WORK DIFFERENTLY, ESPECIALLY THEM BEING BOSS ENCOUNTERS. Imagine having to still hit Ivy or Oisin 2 more times to kill them when there is 14 foot tall Porter throwing legendary actions left and right, with Jace, and other 3 spell casters + Mary Ann and KLCK up and running. It's called balancing the fucking game. Also, game masters are entitled to break, mold and make up any rules they want if they find necessary in order to service themselves and their players. IF YOU PLAY WITH ALL THESE RULES AS THEY COME, GOOD FOR YOU AND YOUR TABLE. THIS IS NOT YOUR TABLE.

Not only is Brennan DMing for his CLOSEST FRIENDS EVER, he is also shooting and producing an ENTIRE TV SHOW. So yeah, i think he knows wtf he is doing.

"But the Ratgrinders had no real development": True. But it wasn't for lack of trying from the players. Everytime they tried to know more, the dice didn't let them, so they decided to focus on the mystery. It simply do be like that sometimes.

"But they are just kids!": And so were Penelope, Dayne, Ragh, Zayn, the Bloodrush Players, Aelwyn and Biz. Why wasn't it a problem then? Because most of them were evil to some extent and were about to bring the fucking apocalypse to the world? Yeah, sounds familiar right? And the ones who were manipulated or had any sort of redemption worked their way into earning it, right? Yeah.

In conclusion, I fucking love the Rat Grinders, I truly do, and not unlike 90% of this website, i'm still holding on to hope that they have any sort of development and redemption in the last episode, because I agree, they ARE children and they WERE manipulated by Porter and Jace, but like, can we also agree that they are fucking assholes and had it fucking coming? Also, the BKs are children too y'know. SO STOP BEING FUCKING ANNOYING.

[chaiifluuf]

Heart to heart — d. osamu

synopsis. seeing your boyfriend’s ex makes you question if you really are enough for him

content. fem!reader, ada!reader, hurt/comfort, has a made-up character

notes. a request written here ! @hyunorue, @walnutnut since you wanted to be tagged, i adjusted a few things but hope you enjoy nonetheless <3

“‘samu, we just had a lunch break..” 

you mention softly as you let him lead you out of the agency office. of course dazai wants to ditch work with you once again despite all your efforts to make him do the opposite. often you don’t go along with his antics since you actually value the paperwork and don’t want to stress kunikida even further. unfortunately, today was one of those days where dazai wins.

“so? we were still working then and have every right to get a break now!” dazai tells you as if there is no problem with what he said. you raise an eyebrow and stare at him sceptically. “more like i was the one working, you just pouted and sat next to me because i wasn’t focusing on you.” you point out while both of you walk down the stairs.

“how cruel, bella! i did write on my report,” he says dramatically, holding his free hand to his chest when the other hand is still intertwined with yours. “i saw you add exactly five words.” you respond bluntly as you remember your gaze flickering to his laptop to see what he was doing from before. dazai gives you a fake offended look before opening the door for you to exit.

the cafe right below the agency was the go-to place to take a break or even have lunch. and today was no different. two of you sit down at one of the tables and order your usual. you still weren’t at ease though. “you know if kunikida happened to be at the office currently then we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” 

dazai hummed indifferently, taking your hand in his again as he rubbed gentle circles on the back of it. a warm smile tugged at his lips. “kunikida this and kunikida that but how about you relax? don’t worry, i’ll just—”

he abruptly stopped speaking when he looked behind you towards the entrance of the cafe, the sound of the doorbell ringing filling the space. you feel confused and decide to call his name, but to no avail. before you can even turn around a woman’s voice can be heard throughout the room.

“oh my god! is that you, dazai?” she gasps and you saw the way his body stiffened. almost right away you can tell something is wrong. the woman walks up to the table you were sitting at, an amused grin on her face. you can’t help but wonder who she is. dazai has never mentioned knowing other women besides you and some others at the agency. what is going on?

“why long time no see! you do remember me right?” she says to him with an upbeat tone, her gaze shifting to you afterwards. the moment she did you realised something. she looked pretty. stunning even, her golden wavy hair fitting so well with her hazel eyes. while her expression seemed friendly, as soon as she looked at you, you felt somewhat uncomfortable. you felt as if she judged your whole being right now.

“i do, yuna. what are you doing here?” dazai’s voice was much colder in comparison to talking to you earlier. okay so dazai does know her. then she has to be someone from his past. someone he has never told you about. perhaps a friend, a relative or a… oh.  

yuna merely hums in response. “this cafe is a public place, no? just wanted to get a coffee but ran into you instead. how have you been?” she asks dazai, mostly ignoring you and it makes you feel like you’re not supposed to be here. your suspicions about who she is make this even worse. 

dazai sighs rather heavily. “now is not the time. seriously.” it’s obvious that he is trying to get her to leave but yuna doesn’t seem to get the hint. “woah you’re so tense, i mean no harm…” she says with a softer tone despite the playful smile growing on her lips, calmly bringing her hand to dazai’s shoulder as if i wasn’t even there. it’s becoming harder to not get annoyed because who does she think she is? 

your lips form into a thin line as you watch her get dangerously comfortable around him. you were about to give yuna a piece of your mind but dazai already got ahead of you. without hesitation, he pries her hand off his shoulder and she’s surprised by his action. 

“yuna, this is your last warning. i need you to stop acting like we’re anything more than strangers and respectfully, get the fuck out of here.” he spoke with a stern tone and looked into her eyes the entire time. you’re definitely not used to seeing him get genuinely mad at someone. 

small shock crosses her face and she seems taken aback by his sudden words. a moment of tense silence passes before yuna scoffs. “fine, be like that then. have fun with your new little girlfriend,” she says mockingly, her friendly tone long gone and you were not ready for the look she gave you. it was full of loathing and bitterness, like you were far beneath her.

and now you want to sink six feet underground. you hate how much she managed to affect you and you pray that she can’t tell from your expression. you shouldn’t even care what she thinks of you but assuming that she had some type of relationship with dazai before, you can’t help but feel out of place.

yuna finally leaves the place and dazai’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “i’m so sorry that you had to witness this,” he says with a sigh, “are you okay?” you can see it in his gaze that he is really apologetic and you don’t how to feel anymore. all of this could’ve been avoided if you just stayed at the agency.

“yeah, i’m fine. was that your ex?” you ask, ignoring the stirring emotions in your chest. dazai seems to think a little before answering. “not exactly. i haven’t talked to her in years now. i thought she moved away… but it doesn’t matter. let’s just focus on us, yeah?” 

you still had so many questions but you simply nod and take a sip of your drink. a worried glint remains in his eyes but you decide to ignore it and act like you’re okay with everything that happened. 

because you’re anything but okay.

yosano keeps giving you strange looks as you look through some files. you try to focus on work but the cafe incident won’t leave your mind no matter how hard you try. she can probably tell something is wrong. she’s a doctor after all. 

“y/n, did something happen?” yosano speaks up calmly while she sits on her office chair. you shift your gaze from the paper to her and blink in surprise. “ah, no. why are you asking?” you respond, trying to seem clueless.

“you’ve been staring at the same page for over five minutes now and i know for a fact you’re not that slow of a reader. your thoughts are elsewhere.” okay maybe it was more obvious than you anticipated. you know there’s no use to denying her at this point. with a defeated sigh, you sit down on a chair near her desk.

“it’s kind of stupid.” you’re still a little hesitant about this because while you and her got along well, you haven’t opened up about your problems to her before. her face softens slightly as she leans back on her chair. “surely it’s not if it has you acting this odd.”

a minute of silence passes before you start talking. “well me and osamu went on a break to the cafe and then this woman appeared out of nowhere, someone who he knew in the past and…” you pause, gathering your words, “after a tense conversation she finally leaves us alone. even if she did try to look friendly at first, i could tell she did not like me.”

“so it was jealousy or something?” yosano guessed, listening intently and you sigh again in return. “i don’t know. i asked osamu about her too and i didn’t really get any answers,” you say as you think about it. why did he barely tell you anything? is he hiding something? god you’re starting to overthink again.

yosano notices your troubled expression and decides to slowly move a little closer to you with her chair. “listen, let me ask you this—how did he react when she started talking to him?” she asks while looking into your eyes. 

“very irritated, in a way that I rarely see.” that’s true, there was a genuine glimpse of anger in his irises, it was surprising even to you. yosano nods and seems to think for a moment before speaking.

“do you trust him?”

you’re slightly caught off guard by the question. of course you trust him. through all the missions you have gone on with him, he always makes your safety the top priority and you know that you can trust him with your life. 

without thinking twice you nod in response and a small smile appears on her face. “then i’m sure you don’t need to get too concerned. plus from what i’ve seen, he loves and cares about you more than anything else.” she tells you with a warm tone.

her words manage to somewhat ease you because she must be right. you love him dearly and he feels the same. and that’s what is important. yeah, you can’t forget that. you give yosano a grateful look. “you’re right, thank you.”

the confidence you had a few hours ago is long gone. you don’t know how long you have been sitting on your bedroom floor alone, stuck in your thoughts. you left the agency a while ago, telling dazai you were going to a case related place so he wouldn’t get suspicious. in reality you couldn’t understand yourself. why are you so upset? even yosano assured you that there’s no need to worry.

everything was fine before going to the cafe and having that encounter with her but it shouldn't matter because it’s plain to see that dazai doesn’t care about her nor like her anymore. it’s not like he’s cheating on you which you know he would never do. but you do wonder how they met, you wonder if they were actually together and on top of all, you wonder what happened between them. 

because despite her cold behaviour, she was gorgeous to say the least. and maybe if you got along with her then she would have a nicer personality as well. honestly yuna seemed like everything you’re not. it makes you doubt yourself. just what does dazai see in you? you have heard his flowery and flattering comments more than you can count but what if he doesn’t mean them?

it’s such a silly thought but you can’t stop pondering over it. you’re so much in your head that you didn’t even notice to hear the soft creak of the door opening.

“love?”

your breath falters. you know that voice all too well. you can’t find it in yourself to answer, keeping your face buried in your arms as your knees are pressed to your chest. you hear him moving and you can tell he’s closer to you now.

“what’s wrong?” dazai asks gently and you can’t help but feel embarrassed since you are not sure how to answer. you wish you could act like you’re fine.

you stay quiet and after a moment he speaks up again. “yosano told me some stuff regarding you,” he says and now you really have no chance of hiding anything. it never crossed your mind that she might tell him. he knows why you are like this and you hate that.

“osamu, why are you with me?” your voice is more unstable than you would’ve liked. you raise your head and see that he’s sitting right beside you on the floor. his gaze goes softer and more concerned when you look at him. you then realise your cheeks are wet.

“why? because i love you of course,” he says so easily, a tender smile adorning his lips. you remain doubtful. “then will you tell me who she was? was yuna really not your ex?” you question him as you can feel your throat getting tighter, desperate for answers.

dazai’s smile fades and he lets out a quiet sigh. “me and her were friends with benefits at best. sometimes i could tell she wanted to be more than that but unbeknownst to her, i was aware of all the other boys she was hanging out with. we had an argument over it and i ended everything with her on the spot.”

you stare at him for a few seconds as you process his words. he is not lying, you can tell that much. you suck in a breath as your vision grows slightly blurry. “i just don’t get it. she was so pretty, osamu. out of all people you chose me when i’m barely anything in comparison to her. i—“ your voice cracks as you try to stop your tears. you have never seen yourself the way he does and at times it scares you because what if one day he will see you exactly like you see yourself?

you avoid his gaze and the fact he hasn’t said a single word makes you want to cry more. he brings his hand to your cheek and slowly guides you back to face him. what greeted you instead of pity was a warm smile and eyes full of fondness.

“my dear, are you hearing yourself right now? without any exaggeration, you’re the most breathtaking woman i have ever met inside and out. i would never love someone so much based off only their appearance. and do you know what makes you so precious?” 

you sniffle as your gaze is connected to his. you can’t help but lean into his touch while his hand cradles the side of your face. “what.?” you ask.

“you make me feel human. you make life worth living and i couldn’t be happier to spend the rest of my days with you.” his tone is filled with tenderness and sincerity. it almost makes you question whether you’re dreaming but his touch wouldn’t feel so real and soothing in any of them. 

and then you smile lightly. you really were overthinking it. as relief washes over you, your body moves on its own and your wrap around his waist, hugging him tightly. dazai returns the gesture and places a kiss on your head, softly rubbing your back. tears were still escaping your eyes but this time it wasn’t out of sadness. 

he suddenly seems to remember something and whispers into your ear. “oh and there are some flowers waiting on the table for you.”

my writing is so weird in this i’m sorry (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)