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s3thwrit3sstuff · 2 months

Note

*pulls the 45 cents I have to my name out of my pocket and drops them on your table*

I can't believe my name will be forever attached to this but one (1) Kenjaku solo session with Heianera!YN portrait, please

❝ life and death will always lead to love and regret (but you have the answers, and I have the key) ❞

warnings: creepy/stalker behaviour, Kenjaku is a 'passive'-yandere (in the sense that Sukuna would and will kill him if he tried anything), manipulative behaviour, gore (detailed), Kenjaku jerking off in front of a portrait of r!, very unrequited

authors note: don't be ashamed, Gabriel. I got way too excited writing this and I think that speaks volumes on how I need to get checked, LMAO. On another note - yes, my YN's will always have a harem of men in the JJK-verse because that's what YN (and you, my dear reader) deserve!

I wrote this partially on my phone so bear with me guys...

*song on repeat: Bernadette by IAMX & Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage. * YN is described as having long hair because of the heian beauty standard (hair colour and texture not mentioned).

People often compared the years they lived as sand. The hourglass holding it is comparable to the human body. He often thought that metaphor was weak. People — humans — were not hourglasses and their years were not sand. No, no. That’s far too neat for humans.

Humans are messy. They are loud, and chaotic, they defy nature's rules and destroy her for the sake of progress. They had no balance, their compass broke when the synapses in their brains sparked conscious thought.

In that chaos, humans made curses. Or, well, you could argue it who came first but without humans and their silly consciousness — cursed spirits wouldn’t thrive.

People are flesh left under the sun. With their blood drying out, flies and maggots eagerly feast on what they can while the meat greys and rots. That’s a much more appropriate metaphor for a human life. If anything, the hourglass comparison should be used for himself. Constantly turning it over to keep going; uncaring of what kept the sands in confinement so long as it could continue its path.

Down, almost empty, flip, repeat.

Kenjaku had perfected his cursed techniques. He had earned this, he had earned his right to let his curiosities run rampant. He had earned the right to be in the presence of Sukuna Ryomen and you.

“Yuuji, you still owe me for eating my yoghurt from the fridge. It was expensive and it took so long for me to find it!” Nobara huffed. “You might as well just buy some for yourself. I’m labelling my food now.”

Megumi glanced over his shoulder at the lack of reply from the pink-haired boy. Nobara stopping next to him with her brows furrowed, sighing as she looks around for him.

“...I was just talking to myself? Seriously?” she grumbled. Megumi adjusts his grip on the bags. The grocery trips were a good team-building exercise according to Yuuji, a way to get to know each other better. Megumi and Nobara agreed after a particularly harsh mission that aimed directly at their novice team fighting experience.

So far, the results that were yielded from it were found that Nobara had an aversion to pineapples, Megumi had expensive tastes, and Yuuji was very good at budgeting money.

“No, he was right beside you a few minutes ago,” Megumi reached for his phone. Nobara placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she continued to scan the crowd.

A gaggle of businessmen came out from the underground train station and between the crowd of slicked-back hair, desperate combovers, and sweaty bald heads, she spotted him.

Tugging on Megumi’s sleeve, she pointed to him. Yuuji was standing and staring up at some sort of vertical banner. As they both approached, they shared a glance.

“Oi, Itadori,” Nobara placed a hand on his shoulder. Smacked it really. He didn’t budge. There was a dullness to his eyes that unnerved her enough to remove her hand. Megumi tightened his grip on his phone as he called out to him again. She took a look at the banner and her brows furrowed.

It was promoting an opening of someone’s private gallery. Some rich kid’s great-great-grandfather’s collection. The painting they used was of a true beauty. A man with long hair, dressed in the finest robes with a serene barely-there smile. It looked to be more European in nature, the art reminding her of the portraits of giant frilly dresses and puffy shoulder sleeves despite the obviously Japanese clothing, accessory, and manner in which the subject was regaled in the painting.

The banner must have costed a pretty penny considering how much detail they could see. Megumi could practically feel the raised textures the artist had used to mimic the pattern of the traditional robe the man wore. The flow of his hair, the texture and pattern it had; and his lashes were surely not that long in reality.

Megumi tore his gaze to Yuuji.

It was like he was in a trance. His mouth was slightly ajar, his brows furrowed and his hands shaking as his knuckles turned white.

“Itadori?”

Yuuji had long forgotten this. This ache in his chest that he sometimes woke up with. When he reaches for the empty space next to him and finds no one. Those moments in the basement when he watches a historical movie and his chest tightens as the nobles courted one another.

“Do you know the painter or something?” Nobara asks.

No, he wants to say. Not the painter. If he knew who it was that did this portrait, he’d tear their heads off their body. But the man? He knew him.

That hellish grin, that perfect face and most importantly those nightmarish eyes.

You’ve seen dolls, right? Those porcelain ones specifically. The craftsmen who make them, the expensive ones with real human hair. To be left on shelves instead of being played with. They would draw these white dots on the eyes, varnish them even, so their eyes would reflect back. A mimicry of humans, that’s what dolls are. But even then, their eyes still twinkled. Not this man. No. It was devoid of light. Pools of (eye colour) and nothing more. These eyes would swallow up any trace of light and diminish the stars from the sky with just a glance.

Yuuji knew him. His soul knew him. His hand clutches over his heart and his friends watch this with trepidation.

It’s been 2,000 years. Sukuna was no longer human and therefore his memory was not as fickle. He still remembers those moments before dawn; the sight of your bare torso breathing softly as you rested next to him. The sun filtering through the windows and making you appear even more ethereal and deadly. How your brows would pinch seconds before you woke. Those soulless eyes that shot through his very soul.

Sukuna could recognize you even if he was blind. He’d be able to hear you just by feeling your chest rumble. If he had to eat one thing for the rest of his life, your body and flesh would sustain him.

In his Malovent Shrine, whilst he sat on his throne, he’d summon his flames in his palm. There he’d watch as your figure danced across his hand. You’d twirl between his digits, a smile across your face as he watches the imitation of you.

It used to be enough. Lately, the action brings him more contempt then fondness. The flames never quite catch your shape anymore. Constantly shifting. That coyness is gone, mini-you petulantly staying hidden behind his fingers. So he snuffs you out in his fists.

He hates you for making him miss you. A King should not be missing anyone or anything. Yet, as his vessel stands here, Sukuna teeters on the edge of breaking the Unbreakable Vow he’d made with the brat just to gaze upon you.

The painter got your resemblance and it was agony for him.

How could he continue to be without you when he’s seen you again? Days ago, he wanted to kill you for making him delirious and now he wants you back in his arms.

“Itadori.” Megumi’s tone is firmer. Nobara smacks his shoulder again and Yuuji jolts forward, nearly falling until his rigid legs quickly come back to life.

“Huh?”

“Are you alright?” Megumi asks, his thumb hovering over the DIAL button of Gojo Satoru’s number. Yuuji glances at his wrinkled shirt and releases it, confusion painted across his face at the fading pain across his chest.

“I...yeah, yeah. I'm okay. I have no idea what that was....”

Rich bodies made life significantly easier.

What was that saying humans used?

Money can’t buy happiness?

Kenjaku chuckles at the thought. Foolish and vain — typical of humans. Clinging onto whatever they can to convince their egos they’re better than most when they’ll all meet the same fate. Kenjaku forgets the exact point where he stopped seeing himself as one of them, but he’s sure anyone would if you’ve lived as long as him. Apathy. Most call it a disease of selfishness. Kenjaku simply thinks they’re lying to themselves.

“Mr Geto?” the gallery was a lucrative endeavour. A piece in his grand scheme that required little effort but great rewards. More personal gain on his end.

“Mr Hajimoto mentioned you specifically in his will. The private room is all yours. Thank you so much for your donation to this fine institution of arts.” Kenjaku offers the man a polite smile and nod. The awkward silence prompts them to open the large doors and Kenjaku is greeted by you.

(Y/N) (L/N). In all your glory. In his favourite colours and his favourite kanza. The bespoke lighting on your portrait makes his hands fall limply to his side. You were a brushstroke away from taking a breath. The colours used to recreate that undertone your skin had, the delicate curves of your lashes and the plumpness of your lip.

The two guards in the corner of the room are a nuisance. But with a simple twirl of his right hand, the Slit-Mouthed Woman makes quick work of them. This curse technique was truly convenient, the mess she made cleaned up by a different curse who laps at the blood with vigor. The noises are all muffled as he admires those vicious eyes.

Just saying your name makes warmth travel down between his legs.

“I’ve almost forgotten how you look like.”

Silence ticks by for a minute.

Then Kenjaku bursts into laughter. Clutching his stomach and covering his mouth as he does. He can still smell your blood. Even if Suguru’s body had never had the pleasure of touching you — Kenjaku remembers it.

The way it flowed out of you like silk ribbons. Warm and wet and virile.

“You are an unusual sorcerer,” those were the first words you said to him. He knows you meant that in a derisive fashion — the curl of your nose was a clear indicator. But that was the day a feverish need was planted inside of his very soul.

You. You. You.

The shape of your face.

The cadence of your voice.

The way the wind carried your scent to his nose.

The sound of your cat-like foot-steps.

The effortless way you carried yourself despite the heavy robes that a revered concubine of your rank would wear, along with the golden hair accessories that would probably break a lesser man's neck.

It didn't stop there either.

Your brain, the wickedness that ran through your very veins and that fire that burns within you. Kenjaku wanted to be inside of you in every he could fathom. To sit within that perfectly shaped skull, to thread his fingers between the locks of your hair and take a scalpel to that skin he so craves to taste. Or perhaps inside in the traditional sense, between your legs, embraced by your warm insides and your deadly arms.

Kenjaku ponders on the time he has. He decides that he should indulge in you. He undoes the robes this body wore and sighs as it reveals the torso. Bodies were all the same but he does appreciate the care Geto Suguru took into his temple — there was no need for shame when he's already desecrated this corpse so viscerally already. His hands travel down his torso and that pronounce v-line and past the patch of wiry pubic hair.

You make him feel young again. Reckless and stubborn. Your eyes watch him as he leisurely spits into his palm and strokes it over the tip.

Evil is such a lame word. So primitive in its nature, another one of human's attempts at letting go of responsibility. If something or someone were evil, they were inherently irredeemable. Humans used to call snakes evil simply for doing what a snake would do when hungry, instead of realising they shouldn't have left the door to their huts opened and their sleeping brat asleep.

Was something evil when it simply did what it was meant to do?

They were simply following natures course.

This act Kenjaku is doing now, is not perverted or evil, he is simply being. Simply living, existing, relishing.

If anything, you were the undoing. The evil. You've made, and continue to make, him lose crave and hunger. You were so cruel, so ethereal — so evil.

Kenjaku groaned your name, walking backwards and dropping onto the low seat the gallery provided. His legs spread and he hung his head down but his eyes remained affixed to your painting.

"He sounds beautiful, Mr Hajimoto," the blonde painter had told him once or twice or thrice. Young but talented, the way he used his brushes on canvas was so impressive and Kenjaku missed you so much (Y/N). He simply had to spread the wickedness of your beauty, immortalize it forever within canvases and lesser non-sorcerers minds.

"Did you know him?" his accent was clunky, the Japanese language tumbling on its delicate legs following the rhythm of the painters voice. Still, he — Mr Hajimoto, Kenjaku — gave him a gentle grin.

"Very well. He was my lover."

The small notebook the painter had written your features down in, it was displayed in this very room as well. In a glass casing, handled with gloves to ensure pesky skin oils wouldn't deteriorate his inked strokes.

Speaking of strokes, Kenjaku's was beginning to pick up it's pace. His smile now looser, like an animal that caught the scent of blood, his tongue curled over his teeth as he imagined the disgust on your face. You'd probably cover your nose with the sleeve of your robe and the thought makes his cock jump; you were wearing his favourite colours and it made him moan.

The notebook was filled with sketches of you. Kenjaku recalls correcting the human, correcting him when he disrupted the harmony of your anatomy. You were the humans muse for years, (Y/N). Even as he neared his death bed, the blonde artist kept drawing you. Sketches lose, your shape less tangible, but hauntingly beautiful. Like your dark flames flowing in the wind. Even as his memories of his life escapes him, the artist remembered you. What a blessing. Kenjaku had visited him before he died and whispered your name into the old man's ear.

Sorcerer Society keeps your name hidden. It's their way of control. Making Sukuna Ryomen more monstrous by telling others he ruled coldly and cruelly alone; death was not as harsh as being erased. They say Sukuna needed 20 of his fingers and his mummified heart to be revived. That's what those poems talked about after all.

A misunderstanding.

The heart was Sukuna's, yes.

But it wouldn't revive him.

"You were so angry," he chuckled out, "so defiant even when I was inside of you."

The sky was blood red, the black smoke making the colour more saturated as it seemed intent on blotting out the sun. Uraume had felt a sudden chill, you did too, and they swiftly rose as the scent of deceit was so thick in the air.

“Uraume,” your voice remained nonchalant. But there was a tenseness in your throat that even they could decipher through the layers of regality. They turned, mouth pressed into a thin line as they went on their knees.

You continued to stare, impassively looking down at the patterned swirl of their snow-white hair. The red and black sky turning the colour of your eyes a pleasantly mournful shade; the golden kanza in your hair that your Lord Sukuna himself had commissioned for you glimmered righteously. The teeth of a beast, the curling of centipede legs, and the melded wings of a raven. It was beautiful just as much as it was unusual.

“You leave your Lord’s prized possession to fend for himself?”

Uraume lips reveal a modest amount of teeth. Their face like a porcelain doll as they raise their head. It makes your heart flutter and squeeze.

“You are stronger than these worms, they wouldn’t dare attack you.”

This is true. A fact. You were strong. 100 sorcerers or 1, 000 sorcerers — it made no difference to you. They’d turn into dust and wither right before you. But it shocks Uraume when you place your palm against their jaw, thumb stroking over their cheekbone as you gaze down at them.

“How horrid it is, making me defend myself.”

They see your eyes soften. It was no wonder you were Lord Sukuna’s concubine. Just being touched by you, looked down upon by you; it makes their spine melt.

“I should have your head for your insolence.”

Uraume apologizes, lips stilling when your thumb presses down on them.

“Return to me. Whole. My Lord Husband and I will not be pleased if you do not. We don’t want weaklings to stand behind us.”

Uraume bows, their lips kissing your knuckles as they do before they raise and disappear from your sight. The screams of terror that are heard outside at the sight of them make you slip your eyes close.

Kenjaku appeared before you what felt like hours later. He looks at the scene with a raise of his brow. Your feet were soaked in blood as bodies were strewn across the wide room. The floor was shimmering, looking as though it was breathing as it creaked from his weight. The clothes the bodies wore painted a clear enough picture — they were your servants. Loyalties were swayed as the fight prolonged. These little ants thought they could save themselves from punishment if they showed these righteous sorcerers your head.

He couldn’t smell smoke and there were no signs of charring. The bodies were mangled beyond belief, guts spilling out, eyes gouged, arms bent unnaturally.

Yet, in the gore and horror, you stood across from him with only your feet stained by traitorous blood.

You were a vision. Delicately wiping away blood from the tiger claw kanza with the sleeve of a dead servant. Then, he watches as you carefully put it back in place atop your hair.

“Kenjaku.”

He bows his head, bending at his waist, then lifts himself up again.

“The Kamo clan, your clan, joined this rebellion. I feel that should be a good enough reason to kill you.” The fire in your eyes makes his heart race. He moves forward, casually stepping over a torn torso.

“That would be unwise,” he gives you a grin. This body of his is new. The stitches are still fresh and red. Most likely a desperate attempt of his to hide away while they destroyed his old body. The corpse is younger, and more plain-looking. Despite it’s Curse Technique being a mystery, you’ll take your chances at strangling him.

“I’ve come at the behest of your Lord Husband. To ensure your longevity.”

Your brows pinch. Kenjaku delights at the creases it creates, tucking away this sight into his memories for lonely nights. Then, you scowl.

“You lie.”

His giddiness is palpable. The wide grin on the corpse’s face is clearly not his own; cheeks lifted too high and smile too large and unnatural. Kenjaku must’ve been a truly ugly man with a truly ugly grin. The body struggles to adjust to this display of amusement.

“I’m not.”

He takes a step forward and you lift your hand. The standstill would’ve lasted longer if it weren’t for the yells and thunderous footsteps clambering up to your room.

“You lie!”

Dark flames roared out from the windows. The heat so smoldering it causes a burst of hot air to knock back the men on the stairs, burning their skin and face. The blood on the floor boils, the iron scent now more acidic as the once fleshy bodies now crumble into dust.

You feel his breathe against the nape of your neck. As you turn, he wrings his arms around you like a snake. One across your stomach, the other around your shoulder. That horrible smile is pressed against your skin.

“Kenjaku,” you growl through gritted teeth.

“That’s right. Say my name.”

Fighting feels a lot like sex.

Kenjaku can feel your passion behind every strike, the bruises you leave behind on his skin are akin to hickeys. When you yell out and scream, cheeks so hot he can feel the rush of blood to your face just from looking — the rapid pulse you have and the way your face is contorted.

Kenjaku pins you down. Your legs are thrown over his own while you gnash your teeth at him and spit insults his way. Your hair was so beautiful, thrown back around your head like a lion’s mane. He slides your wrists above your head and holds them with one hand while the other undoes the meticulous array of folds your kimono had.

Sweat drips down his nose. It’s all your fault. Using your Curse Technique in this room, charring the wood and setting it all aflame. Still, he could work in this conditions.

“Ah,” he moans at the sight of your bare skin. Watching the rise and fall of your chest, licking his lips as he places a hand over your heart.

When you kick at his stomach, he acts like he cannot feel it. When you kick again, this time hard enough for a loud crack to be heard, he looks at you.

“If you kill me, you will break the Binding Vow you and Ryomen had made with me.”

He feels your feet dig into his rib, the spiderwebs of cracks spreading further. He allows this with a pleased hum. Your ragged breathing all at once calms and with a blink, your eyes lose that unbridled fury.

“You dare say my Lord’s name so casually?”

Kenjaku laughs. As he leans down, he presses his forehead to yours. Your nose curls in disgust but you keep your lips pursed. The feeling of his sweat sliding down the sides of your forehead and dipping to travel the side of your nose; threatening to get into your eyes as it slips just beneath it.

“Forgive me, venerable concubine.” Kenjaku does not mean this. When he presses his fingers together and imbues his hand with Curse Energy. He enjoys it.

Slicing through your skin at a pace that made the cut more ghastly then it would be if it was done quickly. You remained stone-faced while Kenjaku chewed on his lower lip, every twitch or squint just fueling his hunger.

He is past your skin and now he sees the yellow, when he twists his wrist you grunt as he slices through the threads of muscles. He spreads his fingers and your teeth part as you let out a strained yell.

"You can be louder if you want," his lips brush against your cheek every time he speaks.

"When I return, I'll take pleasure in ripping your head off your body."

"Threatening me?"

He reaches bone. His finger scratching against it before he peels away and settles between your legs. Your hands aren't pinned but you do nothing but curl your fingers into fists as he shoves another hand into your chest. The squelching and pulsing of your flesh, the bursts of blood from your throbbing veins and pumping heart. The wetness and warmth of your insides. He can feel your body clenching around him, and he convinces himself its because you truly enjoy this depravity just as he does.

The size of his hands in your chest is unbearably uncomfortable. Invading you, filling you when you want nothing more than to burn him, as he moves his digits and wrists within you.

He grasps onto your bones and breaks it under the pressure of his wrist. Your blood is spraying him, staining his clothes.

"Your blood looks like ribbons," he whispers to you, "even your insides are like works of art."

You want this to be over with already.

Your arms move down, eyes still set in a glare. You slip your fingers under the soaked clothing and spread it apart further to reveal more of your skin. Shimmying your shoulders so your torso is now bare of any clothing.

The tent between his legs pressed into your crotch. It's hard to ignore, but you push through and grasp onto his elbow and force him to go in deeper.

"Promising you."

Kenjaku's elbow straightens sharply and he moans as he feels your heart beating in his palm. He pulls it out of your body, panting as your eyes slip close and your heart slows. Beating slowly...slowly...slowly...

Kenjaku moans at the memory of your heart in his hands. Your warm blood coating his skin, drying under his nails and crackling in the creases of his joints.

"I wanted to keep you on me forever," he grunts out as his pace gets faster. "The smell of you, of your flesh."

"I didn't need your body, but it was too beautiful not to be admired."

Kenjaku throws his head back, placing his palm across his nose and lips as he sifts through his memories so he can conjure it all over again.

The painting watches on impassively. The croons and purrs of Geto Suguru's cursed spirits echo faintly in Kenjaku's ears while his hips thrusts into his own fist. It's desperate. He usually isn't like this. Even when he was creating the Death Womb Paintings — even when his plans are so close to coming into fruition.

You make him like this. Make him lose control, every thought poisoned with you even when you're nothing more than a mummified heart hidden so desperately away by Sorcerer Society.

"I've gotten a lead," Uraume had informed him just a few days ago. "They've hidden him in the ocean in an underwater research facility."

"Underwater, hah, they think it'll keep your flames contained. Keep your loyal servant away as if the depths of the ocean is enough to scare them, us — Oh, (Y/N)."

His fist stops and Kenjaku stands, removing his clothing fully as he places a hand against the wall of the gallery. The textured wall, the grooves, give way to his nails as he digs them in. He stares into your eyes, imagining the crease of your furrowed brow and Kenjaku groans out your name as he cums all over the wall.

"...Oh, I can't wait to see you again, venerable concubine."

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #sukuna ryomen x male reader #kenjaku x male reader #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader

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deedeeznoots · 3 months

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You’re? Correction! I’m Yours

➺ Characters: Ryomen Sukuna, GN!Reader

➺ Word Count: 900+

➺ Genre: Fluff

➺ Content: Non-Curse!AU, Nerd!Sukuna, Established Relationship (with some pre-relationship sprinkled in), Swearing

➺ A/N: Shout out to my wonderful mutual @heian-era-housewife for this post about Heian Era Sukuna doing poetry. If she’s reading this: I hope you don’t mind the tag but your post seriously inspired a huge chunk of these headcanons 🥹

➺ Synopsis: Headcanons of all the nerdy things Sukuna does because deep down inside that’s all he is and all he wishes to be ❤️

➺ At first glance he doesn’t read as someone who would be super nerdy or all that interested in learning.

➺ I mean, can you blame anyone? No one really expects the dude constantly looking for a fight to pull up with some textbooks during his free time.

➺ Once you get to know him though, you realize that on the inside he is in fact a giant nerd about basically everything.

➺ It starts off subtly: at first you’d ask him questions and he’d be able to easily come up with answers without even giving it a second thought.

➺It could be a question about anything, regardless of the subject or perceived difficulty, and Sukuna would be able to explain it to you. Not only that, but he’d be able to explain it to you in a way that made it sound like the simplest thing in the world.

➺ At one point you basically just started playing trivia and just started asking him stuff normal people didn’t know the answers for and he’d answer with ease, albeit he’d get really annoyed with your constant random questions.

➺ Sometimes if he’s really excited about a subject his explanations would turn into full lectures that’d put most college professors to shame.

➺ Although it was shocking at first, it started to make sense when you realized that the main reason why he takes time to learn about stuff is because he’s constantly bored and looking for new things to entertain him.

➺ He’s good at basically everything so long as it piques his curiosity, but his one and only love will forever be literature, mostly because of how infinite the possibilities are with the medium.

➺ He’s well versed in literature of all genres and different cultures, but he is the most drawn toward Japanese works (and let’s be honest, his favorites would probably come from the Heian Period).

➺ Ever since getting with you, he’s been leaning more toward the romance genre. Just in case he needs any inspiration on how to spice up your relationship, you know?

➺ He’s taught himself multiple languages just for fun and to see how far he could go.

➺ He LOVES poetry, he both writes and reads it a lot and it’s his favorite hobby besides eating.

➺ Other than literature, he also has a huge fascination with art.

➺ He designed his own tattoos because he wanted to play with the idea of turning his body into a canvas. It also just so happened to make him look intimidating as hell which was a plus in his book.

➺ He also has a little journal that he carries around and he sketches a lot whenever he’s bored or sees something interesting.

➺ As for styles, he’s a really big fan of Sumi-e painting because he’s allergic to color but he basically just uses and does whatever he feels like at the moment.

➺ He’s the type of person who draws what he sees, but he would especially enjoy drawing nature.

➺ He would go out on hikes whenever he felt the need to draw and would walk until he found something interesting.

➺ He’s really into meditation while he draws and he uses sketching as a way to keep himself level headed during particularly annoying days.

➺ He isn’t too fond of drawing people, but you’d be the exception.

➺ He would 1000% draw you while you sleep. It’s the perfect time since you’d be still for most of it.

➺ Sukuna is able to write really good cursive and also does calligraphy because he got bored one time (shocker) and so decided to see if he was able to do it well and to no one’s surprise, he was eventually able to.

➺ The reason why he leans towards the humanities so much is because they’re both subjects no one can really “master”. With both art and literature, there isn’t a point where someone knows absolutely everything about either subject. Since Sukuna loves a challenge, he wants to be the first person to go “Fuck you, I DO know everything about this”.

➺ One of the little things he does every day includes writing you short little romantic poems on a post it note and leaving them in out random spots for you to find.

➺ Sometimes they would be in your pocket or other times on the bathroom mirror, wherever it is they would make you smile.

➺ Though, sometimes he would stick them onto such odd spots that you’d wonder just how he did it?

➺ He has TONS of pride in his writing (to be fair, he’s prideful about basically anything he does) and he always appreciates it when you mention his little notes and complement the work he put into writing them.

➺ Sometimes when the both of you are talking together he’d say some of the most poetic sentences that you’ve ever heard like it’s nothing.

➺ When you gasp he just goes “What? Why are you staring at me like that?” as if he didn’t randomly drop lines that sounded like they came from straight out of a novel.

➺ He’s a dick when it comes to spelling and grammar, especially during petty arguments.

➺ “How many times do I have to tell you, if your going to the restroom put the damn seat down afterwards” ➺ “It’s YOU’RE*, actually” ➺ “Fine, YOU'RE** a piece of shit Ryomen!”

➺ Don’t fret though, because while Ryomen Sukuna wants to know anything and everything there is to know about the world, he knows deep down inside that the best thing the world could have ever offered him was you.

➺ Edit: Okay I made this story quite a while ago but I HAVE ANOTHER HEADCANON TO ADD! I think his observation skills are super on point which is how he’s able to understand things so easily

A/N: Everyone list what you think Sukuna’s favorite book(s) would be 🗣️

A/N: If you enjoyed my thoughts on Sukuna, you’d love this story I also wrote paired with some headcanons!

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nicromancytarot · 6 months

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A SONG FOR YOU

This is a general channelling based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my content is not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes.

PICK A PILE CHANNELLING

I write songs sometimes in my free time, and I asked my spirit guides to give you guys a song which could have something that you need to hear right now. Pick a card and enjoy some lyrics.

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2

Pile 3 ———> Pile 4

PILE 1

SWAN DIVE

VERSE 1

promise me one thing,

you’ll never let this go,

we’ll be a forever answer,

to the calls of the unknown

VERSE 2

nothing to tear us apart,

it’s the only thing i fear,

not having you anymore,

while i’m still stuck here

PRE-CHORUS

nothing can destroy us,

you’ll be by my side,

til the end of time

(til the end of time)

CHORUS

fuck death do us part,

i’m taking the swan dive,

i’m falling from the sky,

so you’ll always be mine,

fuck death do us part,

i’m taking the swan dive,

from the clouds into the ground,

i’ll be by your side

VERSE 3

no one can compare,

to the love i have for you,

no one can treat me better,

than the way you do

VERSE 4

when you jump i’ll jump too

i’ll always follow you,

to the deep depths of death,

there’s nothing i wouldn’t do

PRE-CHORUS

nothing can destroy us,

you’ll always be by my side,

til the end of time

(til the end of time)

CHORUS

fuck death do us part,

i’m taking the swan dive,

i’m falling from the sky,

so you’ll always be mine,

fuck death do us part,

i’m taking the swan dive,

from the clouds into the ground,

i’ll be by your side

LAST VERSE

my heart is tied to yours,

it beats when yours does,

we’ll be inseparable,

in the sky above

Swans mate for life, when their partner dies, the remaining swan flies high into the sky and falls to their death, performing their last swan dive. The narrator is serenading their partner, telling them that their love is to last beyond the grave.

PILE 2

DELUSIONAL WONDER

VERSE 1

sometimes i wish that i could live inside my mind,

so i could figure out what’s going on behind,

you greet me with a smile and open arms,

when i’m with you i feel safe from harm

VERSE 2

you lean in to give me a kiss on my cheek,

and pass me a bouquet of my favourite flowers,

oh how it’s so good for us to finally meet,

i pace around my room and think about you for hours

CHORUS

and you say...

come on, come closer,

let me hold you til the war is over,

and if i ever let you go,

just know that i’m your delusional wonder

BRIDGE

turn the page and dry your tears,

keep pretending that i am near,

and when we meet again tonight,

we can pick off where we ended last time

CHORUS

come on, come closer,

i’ll let you hold me til the war is over,

and if you ever let me go,

i’ll always know that you’re my delusional wonder

BRIDGE

visit me again in my dreams,

like you do everyday of each week,

and when i hold your head in my hands,

i’ll remember it’s a fantasy land

VERSE 3

when i wake up and see you’re not laying next to me,

a fear strikes deep deep inside my being,

you know there’s something wrong when you think something exists but it don’t (though)

VERSE 4

and even when i beckon upon your name,

the sound of silence always stays the same,

the earth is a desolate place when you’re not here and only in my dreams

CHORUS

and you say...

come on, come closer,

let me hold you til the war is over,

and if i ever let you go,

just know that i’m your delusional wonder

BRIDGE

turn the page and dry your tears,

keep pretending that i am near,

and when we meet again tonight,

we can pick up where we ended last time

CHORUS

come on, come closer,

let me hold you til the war is over,

and if i ever let you go,

just know that i’m your delusional wonder,

come on, come closer,

i’ll let you hold me til the war is over,

and if you ever let me go,

i’ll always know that you’re my delusional wonder

the narrator is daydreaming as an escape from reality, and falls in love with a character they have made up in her head just to realise that they are not real.

PILE 3

SILENCE CAUSES VIOLENCE

(This one was written purely for this.)

VERSE 1

i’m like a ballerina in a jewellery box,

when the music stops,

my heart drops,

i cant be alone with my own thoughts,

without thinking about ending it all

VERSE 2

what makes my mind so useless?

an apathetic version of what i say,

i often think that i’m going insane,

but it’s all in my brain,

yeah, it’s all in my brain?

CHORUS

i’m begging you, don’t let the quiet in,

cause i don’t know what is bound to happen,

the silence causes violence,

a rapture in my heart,

i won’t give in,

but the temptation is calling me

POST-CHORUS

they think Im crazy,

they think i’m out of my mind,

embodying the devil,

won’t hear me out this time,

they think that i am crazy,

some part of a losing game,

one they won’t play for me,

confiscated their tokens away

VERSE 3

i’ve got a taste for destruction,

pouring salt on my own wounds,

refusing to heal my past,

lifting the rug to sweep my dooms

CHORUS

i’m begging you, don’t let the quiet in,

cause I don’t know what is bound to happen,

the silence causes violence,

a rapture in my heart,

i won’t give in,

but the temptations still calling me

The narrators biggest fear is to be alone, to have to think about past experiences, so they overindulge in coping mechanisms, like constant partying.

PILE 4

SCARED OF THE DARK

VERSE 1

racing through emotions,

throwing daggers at my friends,

i promised i wouldn’t hurt myself,

putting means to an end,

i’m enclosed in my room,

painting sheets with all my tears,

tearing myself apart,

analysing all my fears

VERSE 2

i’ve got a target on my back,

but i’m the one with the gun,

inflicting harm on myself,

my mind won’t let me run,

i’m trying to let go,

but the storm cloud followed,

darting into alleyways,

i wanna be alone

CHORUS

i’m not scared of the dark,

but the monsters that live within,

i’m terrified of my reflection,

the mirror showcases all my sins,

the ghoul’s under my bed,

and he’s gripping on my legs,

pulling me under with him,

now the cycle repeats again

BRIDGE

i pulled myself out of this before,

pinched myself so hard, blood could be drawn,

pressed my lips to a glass of cherry wine,

drowned my fears in alcohol,

i do this all the time

VERSE 3

come with me into the night,

this time i won’t put up a fight,

i’ll let myself consume the darkness,

even though it don’t feel right,

let me fall onto my knees,

down by your gravestone i will plead,

let me live my life in comfort,

surrounded by the shadows in me

BRIDGE

i pulled myself out of this before,

pinched myself so hard, blood could be drawn,

pressed my lips to a glass of cherry wine,

drowned my fears in alcohol,

i do this all the time

CHORUS

i’m not scared of the dark,

but the monsters that live within,

i’m terrified of my reflection,

the mirror showcases all my sins,

the ghoul’s under my bed,

and he’s gripping on my legs,

pulling me under with him,

now the cycle repeats again

The narrator can feel themself falling back into that dark place, they try to fight it at first, before letting it consume them, becoming victim to their own sadness.

#pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot witch #daily tarot #pick a pile #tarot cards

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be-with-me-so-happily · 1 year

Text

Not Another Time

ONE SHOT

[ or Part 2 of Could We Not ]

<< Request >> "I loved could we not. Can you maybe also write when that guy came running on stage and he maybe pushes reader out of the way or something like that😅" - anon

<< Request >> "Omg PLEASE could you do more parts or ‘could we not’ literally loved it!!!" - @loza--may

Summary: Harry is used to things getting crazy on tour. What he wasn't ready for is how much he misses YN during the Latin American leg of his tour. But at the Rio de Janeiro show, he needs to expect the unexpected.

AN: Highly requested part 2, which I wasn't expecting but am so honored to have written for you all. Sorry it took me FOREVER to write and post this. I hope you like it.

Warnings: Some explicit language, attempted attack by a fan, mild head injury

Not much can shake Harry when it comes to wild moments on tour, throughout his entire career. There once was a fan hiding in a trash bin, dildos thrown at his face, wedding proposals, canceled shows due to illness, and there was even a time when a girl tried to dolphin her way onto the stage, back in the early days. But he still loves it, loves it all. It's titled 'Love On Tour' for a reason.

Now, he's in Latin America. Any and every performance here has such a special place in Harry's heart. He has a 'brasil' tattoo on his thigh, after all. However, the time is a little different.

The horn players have not accompanied the band for these shows. No trombone, no saxophone, and no trumpets. Which means no YN. No sweet but subtle winks onstage, no flirtatious comments backstage, no seeing her bright smile, no hearing her pure laugh, or getting lost in her beautifully deep eyes. No gazing at her lips and wishing so desperately that he could kiss them again.

Unfortunately, their first kiss was their last. Harry hopes that's not forever. But after it happened, he got sick, putting a crimp in his plans to further things with her. When he recovered, their time was taken up by those last few shows in Los Angeles. Then he was off to Mexico. And she wasn't.

Needless to say, her absence is very apparent. To him, at least.

So, like he has done every show since Guadalajara, Harry checks his phone after getting dressed. He wants to make sure he hasn't missed any 'good luck' texts before going on stage, but a disappointed sigh releases as he sees that he has no new messages.

"Alright, H. Ten minutes." The stage assistant announces.

Harry nods, handing his phone over and grabbing his mic pack from the sound tech. The band gathers around for a little pre-show ritual and Harry feels the tug on his heart, wishing there were four more members in their huddle, so there could be one particular member tucked under his arm. But he commits to staying focused on his performance, to put on a good show for the people of Rio de Janeiro.

Despite a few fans fainting in Bogota, things have been relatively smooth so far, and this night should be no different. All he has to do is get out there and get through it.

"Do you know the words to this one Rio?" Harry shouts to the crowd as the band begins to play 'What Makes You Beautiful'.

Despite his efforts, this song always makes him miss YN. The trumpets in the backing track just don't do this song, or any of the songs, as much justice as when she is there, with him, playing live. The other three too, of course, but he has always been able to distinguish her trumpet from the other horns, and he would always dance near her while this song played. Without that, without her, it's just not nearly as exciting.

As he begins the second verse, Harry moves to his left, twisting around to tug on the mic cord that feels as if it's caught on something.

"I don't know why you're being shy…" Harry's eyes shoot up and then around as a security guard strides past him, settling his gaze on a figure charging towards him. "And you turn away when I look into your eyes."

It's like a flash. He is walking, then swiveling around, moving over, and then backing up into another security guard. All within a matter of a few seconds. It takes a moment for him to fully understand what's happening, as multiple crew members grab hold of the man.

Watching him be dragged offstage, Harry moves back to the center mic, still in shock of what happened but still wanting to continue the song.

He glances over to each side of the stage, shaking the disbelief away when he meets the gazes of a few of the band and crew. Each one reciprocates the sentiment, yet seem to keep their caution, as a few of them motion over that way. Harry turns back, just for a quick check, and notices a small group of people gathered in a huddle. He turns back to the crowd. He trusts his team, he knows they are handling whatever it is, and he won't let this one moment take away from the show. It can't stop him. It won't stop him.

As the song ends he takes a quick moment to gather himself and take a breath before turning to the crowd.

"Well that was different…" He states sarcastically, though truthfully. It's probably one of the more accurate ways to describe that moment, especially if he's trying to keep this a 'family show', as he always claims. "Is everybody okay?"

The fans laugh and cheer, seeming to answer his question with the same disbelief he feels.

"I'm shooketh… I'm shooketh!" He exclaims, receiving another laugh from the audience. At least they are recovering and feeling good. Now he can recover and feel good too. He twists around, looking from one side of the stage to another, meeting the gaze of a few security guards and crew as he does so. "Thank you, thank you. You saved me!"

That's when he catches it. The glimpse of a familiar face, of YN's face, off to the side of the stage, among the small group he had noticed earlier. However, her expression is not one he's seen before. Well, only once before. It's pained, again, but this time it looks worse, and Harry feels his stomach drop.

He transitions into a quick acknowledgement of his band members, his mind wanting to focus solely on the one who wasn't even scheduled to be there, but as soon as he's done, he takes advantage of what's next.

He uses the band mic to let everyone know he'll be off to the side while the extended introduction to 'Late Night Talking' plays on the screens, and once the lights dim he swiftly makes his way over.

"YN. What's-... what are you-… umm, hi." He fumbles, his thoughts racing with so many questions. He didn't even know she'd be in Brazil, or at the show, let alone on the side of the stage, and now she's standing there in front of him, with an ice pack on her head.

"Hi." She chuckles minimally, hurting Harry's heart with the lack of usual enthusiasm and joy. "I came… to surprise… everyone."

"Well, you did that!" He exclaims, managing as best of a smile as he can. His gaze travels from her eyes, to her lips, and then up to her head, and his expression immediately drops. "What happened?"

"It's nothing." She attempts to play off, much like the last time he saw her injured. "Don't worry about me."

"That's impossible." He retorts. "What happened?"

"The guy… the fan, just… knocked me down… on his way out with security." She shakes her head, scoffing, though Harry feels as if she's directing it towards herself more than anyone else.

"Okay. Umm… go backstage and get checked out." He states, his ears picking up on the music, knowing he'll have to return to center stage in just a few moments. "I'll… I'll see you after, yeah?"

"Harry, I'm fi-"

"Just do it!" He exclaims, immediately wincing as he watches her eyes widen with surprise. He's never talked to her like that, never even raised his voice even remotely in her direction without it being out of excitement or flirtation. But he cares about her, and now he will only worry more seeing her there in pain. "Please."

She nods, opening her mouth with a reply, but seemingly deciding against it.

Harry gives YN a quick kiss on the cheek and hustles back over to his mic stand, shooting his gaze to the side for one last glance of her as she walks out of sight.

It's not as if he's going to stop worrying, but maybe it'll be a little less than it would if she were still there watching him. He knows she'll be taken care of, and he'll see her when it's over. Right now, he needs to get through the rest of it, preferably without any other issues.

"... on a Summer evening, what is happening? An-... you're the end of… we are going to stop the song."

Technical difficulties. During 'Watermelon Sugar'. Of course. As if Harry's mind wasn't already somewhere else. He knows it's an easy fix, hopefully, but it's just another thing added to the existing thoughts already causing chaos in his mind. He's a professional, sure, but everyone has a limit and he just doesn't want to find out where his is.

Get through it. That's all he has to do, just get through the next song, the show, and the night. Just get through it and then get to YN.

'Love of My Life' is next. Thankfully it's a slow song, so he can calm his mind and body down, even just a little, before the break in the set. And at that point he can finally regroup.

It works, for a moment, until he notices that some fans need help, and despite making his team aware, they are still there struggling. He lifts the mic stand up and turns his head back, motioning with his finger, with some intensity, for someone to help them and get them out of there.

He feels himself spiraling, just a bit, and has never looked forward to the end of a song as much as he is tonight.

As Harry waves to the crowd, with a mouthful of water, he impatiently waits to spit it up in the air, thank the crowd, and get the hell off stage.

The crowd continues to applaud and cheer as he says goodbye, turning around and using the last bit of energy he has to run backstage.

He stops among the hustle of the crew, realizing he isn't sure where to go, or where to even start looking for YN. The most likely place is his dressing room, so he swiftly shuffles his way there, doing his best to acknowledge anyone he passes by that congratulates or compliments him. He feels bad, he usually takes time with each person, always grateful for their work and feedback. But not tonight. He only has one person on his mind. One person he wants and needs to see.

He swings the door open and takes a quick scan of the room, finding no one. Not anyone. Not her. He runs his fingers through his now very sweaty hair, inhaling deeper to catch his breath and figure out where to go next, where to look next.

He takes a seat on the couch, elbows resting in his knees, and glances over to the table in front of him to find a note that wasn't there before. He grabs it immediately, blinking the salty moisture out of his eyes as he looks over the words.

"Hey H.

Went back to the hotel.

Hope you had a great

rest of your show!

- YN"

"Fuck." He mumbles, suddenly remembering how he yelled for her to go backstage. Well, he could argue that he only raised his voice, but in that moment, that hectic moment, it didn't matter. He shouldn't have done it at all. And truth be told, it would've made the entire night better if she had stayed. But he yelled, and sent her away. Now all he wants to do is go to her and make it better, make her feel better.

After the fastest shower and outfit change of his life, Harry found Jeff and discovered that his manager helped YN get there, so he knew which hotel room was hers. At least Harry didn't have to spend countless hours searching all of Rio for her.

He stands in front of her door and takes a deep breath, nerves on edge as he knocks, and fully prepared for her to open the door and ask him to leave. Immediately.

"Harry?" He hears, causing his gaze to lift from his shoes to the woman in front of him. She's dressed in cotton shorts and a t-shirt, looking comfortable and yet more beautiful than he's ever seen her. He just wishes she wasn't also holding another ice pack to her temple.

"YN." He breathes out, unable to form any other words as he looks her over, hopefully more subtle than he fears it might be. "Are y-... how… I mean, umm…"

The sweetest sound grabs his attention and he watches her step aside as she lets out a small giggle.

"Come in."

He nods, and without hesitation steps into the room. The sound of the door closing causes him to swivel on his heel, and his eyes stay fixed on YN as she motions him over to the edge of the bed.

"What's up?" She asks, casually, removing the ice pack and placing it down beside her.

"I, umm, wanted to check on you." He answers, not convinced his volume was even loud enough to be heard. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore." She swiftly responds, and he cringes at the lack of emotion with it. Even though it was only one word, he feels as if he knows her well enough to know that's not her normal tone. "Hit my head when the guy knocked me to the ground."

"I'm so sorry, YN. I didn't know you were there tonight, or I would've…" He pauses, looking down to where his nails pick at each other. "I don't know… I could've done… something…"

"No, Harry, I'm sorry." She states, causing his gaze to shoot back up to find hers filled with, what looks like, embarrassment. And maybe even regret. But definitely with insecurity, which is not something he's used to seeing from her. "I shouldn't have come."

"Oh." His heart drops.

"I feel like I may have been in the way. Well, I was for that fan…" She states, the smallest smile lifting the corners of her mouth, despite the roll of her eyes and shake of her head. "But I definitely didn't want to be in yours."

"No! I'm glad you're here!" He replies, without hesitation, and watches as her eyes widen, now allowing him to see the depths at which they usually take him to.

"You are? Because it seemed like…" YN clears her throat, confirming for Harry that she is in fact nervous. Not confident. And it seems to be his fault. "It seemed like you were upset when you saw me."

"No! Not at all." Harry replies, his frustration with himself appearing in the crease between his brows. "I wasn't upset seeing you there, I was upset seeing you hurt. Really upset. I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, H. I'm alright."

"I know. I know that. I just… I was worried for the rest of the show, wondering if you were okay. It was torturing me."

"I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm really sorry." She lets out a sigh, and it almost breaks Harry's heart as she drops her gaze and squeezes her eyes shut.

"No, don't-... that's not-..." Harry lets out a low growl in frustration. He doesn't know how to express what he means, and if he even should. But at this point, he doesn't know if he can hold back. "It was torture because all I wanted to do was fix it for you. Like last time."

"Like last time?"

He hears her breath hitch, and his heart races more, feeling each beat thump against his chest. They had shared a kiss the last time she got hurt. They spent the rest of the night together, hanging out and talking until the sun was almost rising. But then nothing. Was that it? Was it just a one time thing, just a momentary thing after an adrenaline-raising show? No, it wasn't. Not for him. And she needs to know.

"I… like you, YN. A lot. And that night… meant a lot to me." He fully turns his body towards her, gaining a fraction of the confidence for himself that he has always seen in her, and since she is now there in Brazil, he won't waste another minute without sharing his heart. "We didn't really get to talk much afterwards, or see each other even, but I just need you to know that… I want to be with you. If… if that's something you want too."

Harry watches as she pulls her lips inward, hoping that the expression he sees underneath is pleasant. Pleasant for him. But he suddenly realizes that if she doesn't feel the same, he doesn't want to lose her. For the band.

"If it's not, no problem. We can move past it." He swallows the lump caught grasping against the walls of his throat. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable, and don't want you to leave the band over it. You're very talented, YN."

"Thank you." She replies, looking over at him with those gorgeous eyes and a tenderness she's never given him before, and despite him offering to move past his feelings, for the sake of his heart, he desperately hopes that she feels the same. He wants her to only look at him like that from now on. "And that night meant a lot to me as well."

"Yeah?" He responds, shifting in his spot at the edge of her bed, with all the giddiness of a lovesick school boy.

"I want to be with you too, H."

His palms fly up to her cheeks, receiving a warmth from them that flows right to his chest. His gaze flickers to her lips, yearning for them, desperate for them.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" She chuckles, and his heart swells from the self-assurance that she always expresses, that he has fallen for.

He grins, wider than he ever has, but only for a moment. He's not going to wait any longer. He leans closer, and her eyes close, pursing her soft lips to meet his in a gentle kiss.

Her hands run up his arms, applying pressure as they move over his shoulders, and connect behind his neck. She pulls him closer, and his tongue teases her lips before she parts them, each sighing as they deepen the kiss.

His chest tightens, this time out of need for air, so he pulls back, only leaving enough room for a breath, and smiles as he hears her release her own, happy exhale.

"How are you feeling now?" He asks, resting his forehead against hers as one hand strokes over the hair covering her temple.

"Much better. I do need to rest now, though." She whispers. "But, you know, I may have a concussion…"

"That's not funny."

"No, it's not. It's very serious." She pulls away more, hands still behind his head, and his mind fills with worry. Worry and confusion, as he watches her smile reappear through her solemn expression. "I should probably have someone stay with me tonight. To make sure I'm alright, of course."

"Of course." He smirks, feeling his heart burst, following as she scoots up the bed and rests her head on the pillow.

He does the same, laying down to face her, and sees her eyes begin to flutter shut. It's been an exhausting day for the both of them.

"Come here." He whispers, opening his arms for her to settle in, wrapping them around her body, and pulling her to his chest. "You doing okay?"

"More than okay." She utters, drowsiness now coating her words. "Thank you, for fixing things."

"Anytime." He replies, placing a tender kiss on top of her head. "I'll fix things for you anytime."

A silence falls between them, and as he hears her soft breaths leave her even softer lips, Harry hums in contentment, allowing his own body to succumb to the rest it now needs too. He shuts his eyes, and one last thought appears as he feels himself happily drift off to sleep.

Despite all the chaos, this night didn't turn out so bad after all. With YN, it's been the best one yet.

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bakuliwrites · 11 months

Text

Day One- Gale of Waterdeep

500 Follower Event, 30 Day Writing Prompts Prompt: Relic, Tender, Petrichor, Gale (BG3) Pairing: Gale x Reader Tags: Fluff, Kisses, Cuddling, Slightly Suggestive, Gale Route Spoilers, BG3 Spoilers Word Count: 741

Gale’s dark eyes sweep languidly across the page, no doubt committing to memory the poetic verses written within. You watch from the doorway, comfortably warm in the threshold between cozy library and chilly balcony, a mug of tea slowly cooling in your hands. It brings joy to your heart to see Gale this relaxed. He’s reclined in a loveseat, dressed in his usual soft sleeping clothes and donning a pair of new slippers. The book he’s absorbed in is tome-like in appearance: leather-bound, some sort of ancient relic etched in gold leaf on the cover, a hefty clasp hanging loosely on the edges. You smile to yourself as Gale cautiously turns an onion-skin page, brows furrowed in concentration as he scans the next verse.

With a small sigh, you lean against the doorframe, looking out to the churning sea beyond. There is something deeply nourishing about your days in Waterdeep. Perhaps it’s the way light rushes across the surface of the sea on clear days, sun glinting brilliantly in the sky, seagulls calling out to one another on the drifting ocean breeze. Maybe it’s the twinkling stars mirrored on the water at night, waves crashing gently to shore and the world silent as can be. It could be the hustle and bustle of the town around you, the familiar sounds of a peaceful life you’d almost forgotten in your adventuring days. Or perhaps it’s the unwavering gentility, the steadfast adoration of the wizard before you.

Gale catches you staring, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight at the sight of you.

“Care to join me?” his voice breaks through your silent musing, eyes softening when you meet his gaze, “Books are always better with company.”

“Of course,” you return, for how could you refuse such an invitation? You abandon your mug on the coffee table, shivering when a gust of wind brushes through the balcony. With it comes a pleasant whiff of petrichor and brine, a scent you’ll probably forever associate this tranquil afternoon with.

“Darling, you’re freezing,” Gale worries, shifting in his spot to give you room to lay next to him. The loveseat is hardly big enough for two, but all the more reason to cuddle, you think to yourself. And that was most certainly Gale’s plan, for as soon as you sit down, he draws you into his warm embrace. He’s quick to take one of your freezing hands in his, drawing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. He warms it with his breath before sneaking in another kiss to your palm.

“Better?” he ventures, a gentle beam breaking through the gloomy grey of the afternoon.

“Much,” you softly chuckle, letting your forehead rest against his. This moment is suspended in time, the balcony suddenly a realm of its own. Beyond the soft sound of Gale’s exhales, you can hear a drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the rooftop, droplets bouncing off the railing and landing in tiny ripples on the water’s surface below. Gale holds your hand to his chest, his other arm drawing you close. Beneath your fingertips is the velvety texture of his shirt, the gentle thrum of his heart. This is nourishment in its purest form: Gale Dekarios, his love silently enveloping you, body and soul.

You angle yourself to better reach his lips, pressing a tender kiss to them, lingering for a long while. Gale’s tongue softly traces the part in your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair. He moves to press tiny kiss after kiss against your cheeks, eyelids, and jawline.

“Hmmm,” you hum, when he dips to give some much needed attention to your neck, “You can keep reading if you’d like. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

Gale’s book is long abandoned somewhere on the loveseat. You suspect he might be sitting on it, far too engrossed in you to pay attention to the tome digging into his leg.

A small chuckle reverberates through Gale’s chest when you inadvertently gasp, his lips ghosting down to your collarbone.

“You’ve well and thoroughly distracted me, my darling,” he admits, “I’d much rather you be the subject of my studies this dreary afternoon.”

“Then you are easily distractible,” you return with an impish smirk. Gale quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Or is it that you and your irresistible charm are incredibly distracting?” he teasingly returns, laughing as he pulls you closer and lays his lips to yours once again.

A/N: I adore Gale. Honestly, I adore all of the companions in BG3. And many of the NPC's haha. I want to write more for him, so maybe a fic in the future? Time permitting, of course. Thank you for reading! Up next in this event will be Portia Devorak from The Arcana!

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 spoilers #gale spoilers #gale x tav #gale x reader #my writing #drabble #fluff #one shot #500 follower event #30 day challenge #slightly suggestive #life is better when you're snuggling with a wizard

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cookiepie111 · 10 months

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༊࿐ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 ༊࿐

Part 2 of drink from the leche of sirens

Part 1 here

A/N: I'm back after what felt like f forever! Crying screaming throwing up it's finally finished! Part two of könig x nymph! Black Reader. I'm over the moon so many people liked part one i loved writing it. Love to hear your thoughts on this chapter or any ideas. Feedback,likes and reblogs are appreciated🙏🏾 also if you wanted to be added to the tag list please let me know. I've read this like a thousand times but if theres mistakes im sorry oop(Yes this title is from the new hunger games. I watched it and I'm obsessed! Please talk to me about it! )

Sisters in order of appearance Aganippe, Bolbe

Tag list: @montenegroisr @kneelingshadowsalome @havikshoochiemama @wordstome

𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

Red. you wouldn't say it was your colour. It's a harsh and rough colour that didn't suit you. A colour you've never taken any notice of before. But you're seeing it everywhere. It's in the berries, the birds, and the flowers. You're seeing /him/ everywhere.

"Sister! Sister! What about this one? " You watch, fiddling with the braslet on your wrist as your sisters pull up a man from the water, he's tall but too skinny and smooth. not your man. A shake of your head, and he's shoved back down the water. Why was it so hard to find this man? You should have paid better attention to his armour, although that wouldn't help much. You're not well versed in the human wars and their armies.

"When did you see him?"

"Around the willows and lake i think it was xxxx "

one of your sisters hums, coiling her hair around her finger, oak skin still wet from the water. "That was Around the date from the Eastern fight, so he's probably with the reds or the greens " that was something the most you've gotten about him "but they're both pretty big armies." She stills looking up at you

"are you sure you were supposed to heal him" huh what did she mean, were you supposed to do anything with him? he just found his way there to you, you could do whatever you wanted with him right?. You weren't sure what your sister was asking, the look on your face must have made her nervous "I mean, maybe you shouldn't have let him go"

𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

Magic is believing its a lot faith. There aren't any other options könig has so faith and believing are the only things he can hold on to. Belief, that the charm held tightly in his hands, will bring out a nymph, and faith he'll see you again.

The water ripples in the centre, slowly then rapidly, as bubbles ascending into the air.

This is what könig hates about magic it's too unpredictable, it's recklessness, and lacks control. Makes it hard to challenge and counter it. He needs to be in control, know all the moves his enemy could make, and magic doesn't allow that.

The lady standing in the water isn't the one könig's looking for. Her presence is off in every wat, from her appearance to the way the air moves around her. Her hair falls straight down her body it only moves at the tilt of her head. He expected this. Of course, finding his little nymph wouldn't be in easy task, but he more than ready.

"You're not the one I'm looking for," his efforts to keep composure are wasted on her, try as he might to stay neutral, its hard to miss this annoyance that slips in his voice.

"I'm sure I can be just as good," she responds, wearing a warm and gentle smile that never reaches her eyes. It's wasted time trying talking to her, he needs answers not idle conversation.

The waters are calm and still, yet his legs weigh heavy in the water. He's fighting against the waters just to make it to her, he shadows the sun just standing infront of her. He knows his presence is off putting, most women would have turned and run they wouldn't let him get his close. She only smiles the closer he gets.

König feels his feet sinking, or at least it seems that way. When he turned to gaze at her, she's still adorned with that same smile. Only König's looking up at her, not down, His knees are immersed in muddy water. She's now beaming with joy from her new catch.

Her hand catch könig's chin as he struggles to break free, forcing his face to her "hey don't worry. I'll tell her how good you tasted!"

So she does know where she is. That's all könig needs to know, ripping himself from the mud. She stares blankly at him, unimpressed by his display of strength.

"Where is she?" König's hand wrapping round her throat

"Haha, what's this? Are you trying to hurt me?" she dismisses him. König watched as her body phased between liquid and solid trying to worm her way out. Her face drops as she panicked, clawing at his hand while he tightened his grip. " You'll talk"

They struggled for a bit before she let out a screech, causing König to loosen his grip just enough for her swim away. Regaining his wits, könig stands straight in the water, looking around. He'd lost her, but He'll remember this for next time. The spirits are tricky things

𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

A high-pitched shriek ripples through the air, your sister rushing by, tears streaming down her face, complaining to everyone she passes, "YOUR STUPID SOLDIER ASSAULTED ME!"

"Your soldier?" Your attention sharpens at her call – she found him. She found him! Oh, she found him.

"That stupid man asked for you. He nearly killed me! He's such an ugly and scary thing, why else would he cover his face?". I thought you said he was cute!

Another sister chimes in, "You're just mad you have terrible luck with masked men." Your sister's face burns, her eyes sharpening as she turns to you, "If I see him again. That man is as good as dead." Ah, she's serious. It's best you find him soon.

𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

There isn't a better colour for könig than red. It suits him quite well. It's the colour of the flag he waves high, the flames that light the night, that clear the way for a sege.The blood that paints his body in all its many shades after battle. more than that. It's His source of comfort, his efforts, and proof of his labours turned physically in the form of a carnelin bracelet that sits on his wrist.

The only proof of his nymph he ( had). He'd never be so careless as to lose it. in all his years, he never lost it, if its gone, it's only because it's been taken. He can't lie he is a bit annoyed You took it, but in exchange for his life, he couldn't complain.

He should go clean up he's a mess from that encounter with that other nymph. It's not enough to warrant a full bath, just his face he can wipe his body down with a towel. He wipes the towel across his face, reaching down to wet the towel. In that moment, he freezes, there atop the bubbling water, a carnelin bracelet.

#könig x black reader #könig x nymph!reader #könig x reader #cod x black reader #x black reader #könig x y/n #my wtiting #könig imagine #könig x you #call of duty x black reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader

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deafsignifcantother · 4 months

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if music be the food of love chapter four

♥ here you go lovies, it’s series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter five ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: n/a ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: i'm catholic and it tends to come through in my writing so uhh there's a scene where reader quotes a verse with the catholic bible version (ignore the fucking obvious era inconsistency idc) and alastor finishes the quote with kjv and i think i'm so sexy for that srry. ♥ no tag list rn :3

Your day with Alastor couldn't have been more distinct, and that's due to three specific reasons.

First, he took his time to wake you up. He stood in the doorway of your room, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight before him. Your usually elegant form was a sprawl of limbs and frizzy hair, the covers knotted around you in a way that suggested you had often shifted your legs while sleeping. He strode into the room, the heels of his boots clicking on the polished floorboards. There was a hint of voice in the tune of your music. He stepped closer, bending at the waist to put his ear closer. It flickered at the almost familiar sound of somebody speaking, a voice strangely soft and feminine; with a few seconds of concentration, he determined it could have been yours even though he'd only heard your voice a handful of times past your laughing. But the voice does not match your reputation's ambiance.

"Rise and shine, my dear," Alastor whispered under his breath. He puts his hands over his microphone, lifting and tapping it against the bottom wood of your bed. You stirred, rolling over with a grunt, knowing within the second that it was him.

With a chuckle and a shake of the head he admired that for a demon of your stature, you were surprisingly vulnerable when asleep. He reached out to gently shake your shoulder. "Up, up, my little overlord," he coaxed into your deaf ears, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

You put your hand on his fingers and turn to him, eyes unfocused at first. The sleepiness on your face... well, it was a memory he would forever cherish. But as you took in his grinning face, a scowl twisted your features. Buzz off, waved him away.

"Good morning!" Alastor signed, his smile undeterred. He held up a small, leather-bound book before tossing it in front of him on the bed. "I've taken the liberty of scheduling out your day. Thought it best to get a head start."

You groaned again, hands still lazy. "A schedule? I haven't kept to one of those in centuries."

"Precisely," Alastor signed, his red eyes glinting. "You've been holed up in that dank, depressing castle of yours for far too long. It's time you rejoined the land of the living, my dear."

You definitely didn't live in a castle, but the idea made you smile. You sat up, running a hand up your tense cheeks. Alastor could see the faintest glimmer of determination in your eyes, and he squinted, knowing he could massage your jaw much better than you could. "Very well," you gestured. "But if this schedule of yours includes a single 'self-improvement' seminar, don't think I'm afraid to turn my back on the princess."

Alastor laughed, clapping his hands together. "I promise you, there is nothing quite so... tedious. Now, shall we get started? We've a busy day of... communing ahead of us."

Second, he cleared his own schedule; you were unsure whether this was common or not. One would view Alastor as the demonic presence he is on the surface, while others like you can find charm in his smile and the kind affection he offers. He still has a push-and-pull game of tug-of-war between him and those who deem themselves close to him (whether it also be the other way around).

Last night, before you returned from the roof, you spotted Alastor out on his balcony, looking out to the city the same way you were. From this angle, he looked so small. His hair covered his eyes and hid his smile, giving him a more humanistic appearance despite his still visible hellish features. What a beautiful man.

By the time you started walking back towards the stairwell, he had looked up.

And third, he made you breakfast. With Alastor, you have either gone out to eat or just had tea at yours. But here, he moved with the practiced ease of one who knew their way around a stove, another humanistic part of him. As you watched, you sat perched on a stool, a cup of steaming tea cradled in your hands with comforting warmth. He spent his time in the kitchen, summoning an apron to make you laugh, and he gave you a prideful smirk before returning to the stove. That look, his charming eyes, and the handsome shapes of his face drove you insane.

You tapped on his shoulder the second you deemed him done. "For all your flaws, Alastor, you must be lovely in the home."

Alastor flashed you a grin, his red eyes sparkling with good humor. "I find I have a bit of a knack for this cooking business."

You snorted, taking a sip of your tea. "I didn't know that."

"Ah, but you see, there is a lot you don't know, my darling," Alastor said, sliding a plate piled with food in front of you on the counter.

You raised an eyebrow, picking up your fork to study the offerings. It had been ages since you'd had a proper meal, instead subsisting on whatever stale rations you could scrounge, ingredients you could torture campers into giving you.

"Amazing," you said, impaling a piece of meat on your fork. "Do not work for the food that perishes."

His ears hit the back of his head faster than any of his snaps. His eyes glistened, roaming back and forth between your hands, frantically scavenging through his living memories for where he'd recognized that.

When you looked back at him, he was beaming, summoning a plate with a pile of arteries that twisted together like spaghetti. He finishes, "But for that meat which endures everlasting life."

With a put-upon sigh, you shove your smile by continuing to eat. Alastor watched you intensely. It was the little things, he knew, that would truly ruin your sensitive heart.

Therefore, due to those reasons, you have been on edge.

Alastor leans back in his plush armchair, swirling the amber liquid of his drink with a passive tilt of the glass. The hotel lobby's dim, golden glow casts long shadows across his sharp features.

"I fear the days will end soon," he signs with one hand, his palm flicking with smooth motions, each word piercing together. It sends a smooth purr shivering down your spine, you clench your own drink. He doesn't exactly address you but keeps his eye on you to see if you respond. You tilt your head to your left, otherwise unmoving.

He takes a sip of his drink, savoring the burn of the fine scotch, and then places it down. "Decades upon decades... the years start to blend together, though everything still appears to be getting worse. The angels come and go, overlords rise and fall, and I remain through it all."

His eyes flicker across the candlelight, following the flame with his chin in his palm. You cross and then uncross your legs, darting a glance at the floor, contemplating making a run for it. Alastor's full lips curl into a wry smile. He recognizes that look, straightening. Overlords rise and fall.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, sweetheart," he signs, his smile taking on a glimmer of amusement. "I suppose you've been rather... soft today. Would you like to go do something? Though, I much prefer conversation to carnage... usually, at any rate."

You meet his eyes, and when he recognizes the look on your face, his chin lifts a bit. You stare at him with stone-cold eyes like you wore years before.

"Have you been messing with me?"

"What do you mean?" If he were to have spoken verbally, his voice effect would have been missing. Your astounding boldness starts with that blunt sentence. He had only responded with what first came to mind, no matter how dishonest.

"I know you're doing it on purpose, the…"

Even with your fluency, you need help with words and how to describe what you mean. He's been pulling away, spending hours without touching you and giving you small instances of affection. It has only been a few days, and you're already getting whip-lash because of how offputting he has been. Maybe this is due to his absence or the decade he spent away. Or it's because he got mad you pulled away from his touch while walking to the hotel. The real reason is out of your realm of possibilities.

"The what?"

"The pulling away."

"I have not been pulling away. We've spent all day together!"

"But, I suppose I mean the… affection." Here you go, sounding like a teenage girl again.

His head tilts. He knows what you mean, but he's trying to delay such an awkward conversation. "My dear, I hope you understand that yesterday… I fed you cake for your comfortability, not mine."

"Which I'm grateful for," you lean forward, getting a bit too passionate in your signing for his liking. Your desperation for discernment is uncomfortable. You swallow. "You're doing the thing where you're acting stupid, aren't you?"

When his smile grows, you sink back. "Alastor, that's unfair."

His signing is whimsical. "You've changed so much."

Your music screeches, his ears twitch a bit at the noise. The more he spends time with you, the more he notices your differences. For your generation, you're acting like someone Velvette's age. It's despicable.

Of course, this isn't why his lack of affection started. Because honestly, while still despicable, your new personality is a bit charming. This hyper-sensitive, docile side of you is something he never knew you could harvest, and seeing a deadly overlord turn into a soft, almost human woman again is delightful. He wishes he was the one who caused it.

"Why would you want to talk to me?" You signed when the two of you spoke for the first time. "Or are you going to kill me?"

Alastor put a single claw against your collarbone, somewhere above the start of your speaker, before pulling back. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong," he purred, glinting with a knowing light. "Everyone has a story, my dear. And I, you see, am a collector of stories. A connoisseur, if you will."

It was just before exiting the alley next to Carmilla's estate. He was prepared to grab your arm to stop you from leaving, so he continued before you could turn away.

"My name is Alastor, I offer Hell its very own radio show."

He held out his hand for you to shake. You focused on the rise and fall of his chest, steady breaths. If he was breathing heavily, that would be suspicious, and breathing fast would still make you weary. He was calm, and he was smiling.

With a grimace, you shook his hand but slipped your fingers away before he could even try to kiss them.

He leaned forward due to the lack of response. "Tell me, what's your name, my dear? What brings you to this place, what destined you to have this damned thing? Was it pain, desperation... or perhaps something else entirely?"

You hesitated, eyebrows furrowed. For a long moment, Alastor thought you wouldn't answer. But then, haltingly at first, but with what could only be offered as boredom, you started to sign.

That was when he knew he should keep you around. The intrigue of you was a slow creeping addiction.

Because you had purposely signed as fast as possible, sometimes using home signs and signing so lazily that you'd go to one hand. At the same time, the other would touch your speaker. You spent the time purposely making it impossible for a hearing person to understand.

His smile tightened, and his eyes darted in every direction to try to grasp any word. He could see it, the spark in you, the flicker of potential that had not yet been extinguished by the cruel hand of fate. Would offering you a premature deal be more fun than waiting a while to develop an elaborate one? Through that smile, between trying to read between your lines, he ran your future through his brain.

You and him could not have been more different in terms of power. One of you viewed souls as a thing to collect, and the other viewed them as things to pity. When you first walked the streets of Pentagram City, you spent most of your days analyzing people. You made eye contact with every person who looked your way. You'd stand on the sidewalk like a statue, your music making people grimace at you, and you'd just smile at them with those same empty eyes. It's an entirely different outlook than you have now; years of avoidance, hate, and fear would affect anybody, even monsters. Because a few decades later, Alastor changed Hell. Overlords became threats and not just leaders.

Once that happened, people wouldn't glare but run away.

At first, it was fun, and then it became humiliating.

If you just stayed in your big home in the forest, then you'd turn into a tale, something that still kept you in power. That's where you were the happiest, eventually.

#x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #if music be the food of love

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graciegoeskrazy · 7 months

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if it’s not with you

matty + teen!daughter!reader

warnings: fluff??? short n sweet!!!

a/n: me? writing something with ZERO ANGST???? IMPOSIBLE. lol anywhooooo. ty anon 4 requesting😌

It seems as if every time your father released an album, he did an interview or something with Zane Lowe. He never told you he was doing this one though. So, when you put on your usual go-to podcast and heard your father’s voice it was a pleasant surprise.

You were sat up in your room starting your homework, while your dad was downstairs. You listened to the whole thing. Although you would never outright admit it to him, you enjoyed his music. But you could never say it out loud for fear of him holding that fact over your head for forever.

“And I saw the adorable photo you posted on Instagram of y/n hanging out in the studio.”

Oh shit, that’s my name.

“Did she have a big part in this album as well? Was she there a lot for recordings and things like that? Or was it like a ‘No. Dad’s working. Get out.’ type of thing.”

You laughed. Matty usually kept his private life to himself, especially when it came to you. Wanting to give you every ounce of normality as possible. So you thought that there was no way he would talk about you…right?

Wrong.

“Oh, I’d say she played a big part in this album, whether she realizes it or not. I mean, I write about…life. Other people’s lives, my lives, and she is a huge part of my life, maybe the biggest.”

You smiled.

“Were there any songs on the record directly about y/n?”

“Oh, there’s always songs about her. ‘All I need to hear’ that one is 100 percent her. I mean, every time I play it or hear it, all I can think about is her. You know? And as for being there in the studio? I mean, she was there a lot because where we recorded most of it is like…our house. She had to be there for that. But I would never be like ‘Get the fuck out’. If my kid wants to learn music or play music, hell, I'm all for it. I’m the last person to stop her.”

“Does she play instruments?”

“Well, Hann gave her her first guitar lesson before she could speak.”

True.

“Same with the others, so. Whether she likes it or not, she’s pretty well versed.”

Also true.

“Eh, it might come in handy one day. And she just turned 16 I heard, correct?”

Matty laughed then sighed. “Yeah, my baby is not a baby. It’s weird.”

…

After finishing your assignment you walked downstairs and found your dad standing hunched over the counter. He was answering an email on his laptop while dinner was cooking in the background. You jumped on his back and hugged him. He grunted and you smiled.

“If I am the inspiration for most if not all of your songs does that mean I can get some of the money you four make?”

He laughed and kissed the side of your head, understanding what you were referring to.

“No, but you get to live in my house rent-free.”

#matty healy #matty healy x reader #x daughter!reader #matty healy x daughter!reader #the 1975 #matty the 1975 #matty x reader

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desceros · 11 months

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ajkfljskj I saw you were taking requests now and I lowkey just- 👀 I'm having sexy Bayverse Turtles intrusive thoughts. Imma share a Leo one. Ever imagined Bay!Leo sharing his hobbies with reader after she earned his trust and teaching her Japanese calligraphy? Him watching her skin glow in the candlelight, dreaming to use her naked body as a canvas for a Japanese love poem written in kanji? Sexual tension, mixed with slow, agonizing brushstrokes? Cuz I have 😏 -💙

so i got this and immediately i was like 'omg. this would work So Well as a deleted scene of sorts for tea-verse' so that's what it ended up as. kind of sexual tension but it edges more on pining. also, i'm burning now, thank you everyone for playing, we had a great run here on desceros dot com leonardo x reader; T, GN!reader, 1.8k; leo pining like a TREE. officially takes place after the leaf scene in this fic if you want context for some of the subtler touches but tl;dr reader always makes leo his tea. (the fic itself has a female reader but this snippet is GN)

He wonders if you know.

You’ve caught him staring, before. It makes his shell feel tight, his skin too-hot. Even with mating season coming up, it’s too soon for him to be reacting like this; the burning ache that comes just from the bell of your voice, the alluring sway of your footsteps as you come to his side. And yet he does. Because it’s you. Just because it’s you.

“Okay, I’m excited for this,” you tell him, teeth biting into a smile as you tuck as close as you can without touching. He knows you do it for him, that you stay away because of his wishes, but it’s an agony all the same. The sweet smell of your soap haunts him, even under the burn of the incense that ghosts the room with smoke.

“Yeah?” he asks, pleased when he sees the happy, easy glow of your face.

“Are you kidding? It’s so pretty,” you say. “Plus I like how the ink smells. It smells really nice with the tea when I bring it in.”

Pretty, he echoes, trailing his eyes down to your throat, your shoulders, your hands. The way all your angles and curves catch the candlelight and dance in a softness that makes his palms ache with emptiness.

…He wonders if you know how soft you make him.

“Okay. Tell me the names for everything,” you tell him, studying the tools laid out before him, a gentle eagerness brightening your eyes. He smiles, turning his head and gesturing at everything to share its proper name in Japanese, then English. Grinding the ink, he explains the process, looking to you and your fascinated expression and trying to remember to breathe.

“What do you want me to write?” he asks once he’s ready, causing you to look at him and smile.

“What do you want to write?” you ask.

Reaching out, he picks up the brush between his fingers. He studies the paper before him, blank and infinite, but his mind is somewhere else.

…It had rained, a few days ago. You’d come into the lair drenched, laughing as Splinter had sent him off to bring you a towel. He’d returned in time to see you lift your shirt, squeezing it out over the storm drain, miles and miles and miles of skin stretching before his eyes. The curve of your spine as you turned to speak to his father, the arch of your hips as you leaned to twist the fabric, the pull of skin over your flesh. Breathless, motionless, frozen, he’d faltered in the doorway, ensorcelled by the image forever, marked, seared into his mind.

It’s that sight that comes to his mind, now, as he closes his eyes.

He could do it, he thinks. He could ask you to turn, to pull your shirt over your head. It’s so easy to imagine the way your shoulder blades would curve, the dip of your spine, the way you’d shiver when he pressed the brush to your skin. It would tickle, at first, until you got used to it; then you’d sigh, still, and let him spread his soul onto your canvas.

Oh, all the things he wants to write there, where it would sink into your flesh like a brand. All the little ghosts of you that haunt him, memorialized with love in charcoal: the way your teeth catch your lip, the flash of skin at your hemline when you stretch your arms above your head, the wet press of your tongue to your lips when they're dry, the way your eyes flutter shut when you have your first sip of tea, the hum of pleasure you give when it tastes good.

…He’d make you feel so good.

“…Leo?”

Leo opens his eyes, feeling the hunger in them, letting them get as far as your mouth before he turns them back to the paper before him. A pointless daydream, a torment of his own making.

“…Sorry. I was just thinking,” he says, and it’s not a lie, not entirely, but also nothing but. There is nothing just about the way that you consume him.

It’s easy, then, to think of what to write. In long, elegant nine strokes that pull from his shoulder, he glides the brush over the paper. Each inch of ink carries a memory of you, your hands as you pass him a teacup, your care in checking the flavor, your endless drive to perfect the art just for him.

“…Tea,” you recognize, proving your familiarity with the subject. He smiles; of course you’d recognize it, what with how often the two of you share.

“Tea,” he echoes, waiting until the ink is dry enough to handle before he takes the paper and hands it to you. “Here. For you.”

“Wh—Really?” you ask, eyes wide.

“Of course. It’s about time I gave some tea to you, after all,” he says with a smile that makes you laugh. He tucks the sound into his heart, next to all of the others.

“It’s beautiful, Leo,” you compliment, holding it before you. Your eyes take in every stroke, awe open and genuine, before they meet his own and your smile goes warm like the sun. “Thank you. I’m going to hang it somewhere nice in my apartment.”

And oh, but you are the sun, he thinks, heart pounding as he watches your fingers trail down the edge of the paper. Reaching out with warmth, lighting everything you touch, smiling as everyone around you basks in your radiant glow. What is life without you, he wonders, chest aching and so full and so empty all at once it hurts. Madness.

…He wonders if you know.

#ask tag #tmnt #bayverse #leonardo/reader #my fic #man now i kinda want to do a thing where it's like. pick a scene from my fics & i'll write it from the other pov. WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE TH #skims hand over surface of water. pining leo is best leo u cant change my mind #rating: t

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f1version · 1 year

Text

GOAL OF THE CENTURY ★ DR3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x gn!reader (no pronouns specified)

summary: You and Daniel are on a Gang of Youths concert and they are playing Goal of the Century which makes daniel realize how in love with you he is.

or from this request

warnings: just fluff, kissing.

word count: 596

note: This was one of my favorites to write, i love Gang of Youths and this made me hear their songs over and over again while I wrote this. I think I cried a bit. Listen to them !!

Music had always been something you and Daniel shared. You didn't have the exact same taste, but every time you heard a song or found an artist you liked, you showed it to the other. Maybe that's why you're here.

Gang of Youths was yours and Dan's favorite band, so when they reached out to invite you to their all-songs-one-night show in Sydney, you couldn't say no.

The place was full, and while songs passed, you noticed how everyone sang along, how everyone was feeling the music just as it was meant to. The feeling was unmatchable, and when certain song started playing, it became more than a feeling.

Goal of the Century.

One of your favorite songs, the one that also mentioned Danny. You looked up at him, he was already looking at you.

"Hi," He said.

"I love this song" Was all you answered, he smiled and grabbed you by the waist, softly dancing to the song.

You sing the verses and I repeat the tune

Daniel brought you into his chest while he sang, you looked up, his eyes fixed on the stage. You surrounded his waist with your arms, singing the song too.

You wanna know what a life is?

The song kept going and you freed yourself from his embrace at some point, dancing and jumping to the song, watching him follow you.

Music wrapped around you, feeling your body elevate to places only music reached. Daniel looked down to kiss you.

Hey hey, say the truth

The world when quiet when the song asked it to be, and the wait for the last verses didn't feel long. Soft singing was heard in every corner of the venue.

You were focused on singing for the band, showing the admiration and love you had for their music. You didn't notice, but Daniel was looking at you, his eyes loving every second.

He loved seeing you shine, this becoming one of his favorite moments in life. He had you —his favorite person— next to him, enjoying one of his favorite things, he wanted to capture this forever.

He let himself listen to your singing, your voice was gorgeous, it was perfect for him.

My brothers are calling

The rabbits are chasing

Ricciardo is racing

Oh. His breath hitched, that lyric meant so much to him. Being included in such a beautiful song, with such a meaning was an honor to him. He loved it. And you sang it so perfectly, beautifully, louder than any other, it made him smile, his chest feeling heavy from love.

The song stopped, and cheers took you out of your trance. You turned around to find your boyfriend almost crying, or it looked like it.

Daniel was smiling brighter than ever, his eyes squinting, but he looked so full of emotion, his hands behind his neck, relaxed but so tense.

"Baby? Is everything o-" He didn’t let you finish, his mouth finding yours in a melting passionate kiss.

And despite the intensity of it all, he held your face as if it was porcelain, his thumb doing small circles in your cheek. You could feel his heart racing, he was almost shaking — but maybe that was you.

When you let go, you rested on each other's foreheads, eyes closed.

"I love you," He whispered, sliding his hands through your waist. "so fucking much"

You opened your eyes, quickly finding his. They were glowing.

"I love you too, Dan, I love everything about you."

"I'll do everything for it to be that way forever."

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rotdistressxox · 6 months

Note

devours my ask that you answered very loudly

M SO HAPPEY !! I LOVE KENGAN !! i might seem a bit silly sending in an ask so soon one after another but I'm absolutely inlove with ur writing and it's so scrumdiddlyumptios..

can i ask for a somewhat continuation of the last ask but..said S/O reveals that they fight to music they play in their head..it's up to you the genre to music but as for the characters..i gotta get my cakemaster9000 agito..

I will be appearing like that one embarassing memory every now and then so..can i be 🪡 anon?

HAAAIII HELLLOOO OMFGGG!! You're so nice I'm gonna cryyy. Yes you can be my little 🪡 anon ♡

Don't mind me while I look through my Playlists teeheee

Continuation: Kengan Men with an 'Experienced' Fighter S/O

First part here

Cakemaster 9000 / Kanoh Agito

• "Hey Kanoh, I need to tell you something..." You tug him by the cuff of his black suit.

• He gives you his attention, and all you can do is hope that he understands.

• You tell him that the secret to your fighting skills, is fighting to the rythym of songs.

• Surprisingly, he's not surprised. He's been watching you a while and noticed the pace of your every movement was like a time signature.

• Is well versed in music and happens to like classic rock and older metal.

• You knew this though. The songs you fight to are more on the heavier side of metal. Not too distant when it comes to genres. You show him the songs and he quite enjoys them.

Ohma Tokita

• Now that the secret was out, you let him watch you train to music. You have to let him dj tho, even if he doesn't know how to use music streaming apps yet :,)

• Once you told him, his mind instantly blanks. What does music sound like again? Has no idea how complex and Layered music and its genres are because he's never ever been a music person.

• "Huh"

• Zero thoughts, no thoughts at all in his head right now.

• You roll your eyes and pull out your phone to show him a few songs. Mostly alternative music. You have to explain rhythm and beats to him.

• He pretends like he understands, but he really doesn't.

• You give him an example by shadow boxing to the beat of a song. He kind of gets it now.

• "You get it now?" "I guess. It seems kinda dumb"

• Fine. Turning on a metronome, you started counting at 6 beats per second. "One two three four five six" you cross punched and jabbed while counting out loud.

Raian Kure

• Once he heard the counts, he was sort of impressed. He'll have to use it sometime (insert fight with Inaba Ryo)

• "You fucking WHAT-"

• He shakes you by the shoulders as he deafens you with his yells of disbelief.

• All this time he thought this was just stupid, stupid, luck that you had on your side. He was about to burst a blood vessel.

• You smack him upside of the head otherwise he would hurt himself with his rage.

• He's mad at you for a few days, won't let you touch him or anything. Was he really that wound up about fighting to music?

• Not really. You confront him about his unreasonable behavior and for the first time in forever, he's up front about his inner feelings.

• "I'm kinda pissed that you didn't tell me about it sooner" he crosses his arms averts his eyes.

Gaolang Wongsawat

• "I didn't know what your reaction would be-" "Shut the fuck up and kiss me with those lips of yours"

• Blinks. Blinks again. Blinks a third time. Is he hearing this right?

• Chuckles before his facial expression turns into horror. How could he be this stupid? Or was it you that was stupid? He honestly didn't known

• "Gao? You okay?" He stands up and drags you to the palace training grounds.

• "Spar with me while you sing" he unbuttons his shirt a little and gets into an orthodox boxing stance. "Okay?"

• (Insert Dam that River by Alice in Chains)

• You two come out of sparring sweating. You were pretty sure another button popped off of his shirt but you weren't complaining.

• "I see it now" he wipes the sweat from his forehead. "How did you come up with such a method?" He panted.

• "I think I started dancing too hard to music and punched a hole in the wall"

• He actually l laughed this time, catching you off guard. "How idiotic" "Hey!" You punch his shoulder and he grabs your hand.

• He actually likes to hear you sing now. It opens him up to a new world besides the National Anthem for Thailand and traditional songs.

#kengan ashura #kengan ashura x reader #kenganverse #kanoh agito #ohma tokita #raian kure #gaolang wongsawat #x reader

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avocado-writing · 1 year

Note

Your wrintings are so yum!!!!! How are you able to write them so good!!! I read and feel, easily visualizing everything you describe!!! (if you're up for it, I'd love to read about Aziraphale being smothered with love, pampered, adored, worshipped by reader(or both of his lovers!)(sfw or nsfw, whatever you're inspired to do!) Thanks for sharing your works!

notes: this is absolute filth. i'm so sorry (no im not).

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley

rating: E, minors dni

tags: TLTDATSIB-verse; cum play; light praise-kink; dirty talk

There are many things to love about Aziraphale.

His soft body. His pretty eyes. His little breaths of ecstasy as you pleasure him. No wonder you and Crowley have committed every part of him to memory. After all, why wouldn’t you want to remember a perfect thing down to its finest detail?

The three of you are in bed. It’s a rainy Friday evening, and at the moment the two of you are playing one of your favourite games with him: who can get the angel to blush the hardest? You’re pretty equal at the moment, and with your hands all over him, Aziraphale is utterly at your mercy.

“I love his hair,” you mutter, carding your fingers through his soft blond curls. You make sure to snag them a little, pull them in that way he loves. Aziraphale moans and keens into your touch, his cheeks a rosy pink.

“I love his chest,” Crowley counters. The demon dips down to snare one of Aziraphale’s pretty pink nipples between his teeth, half biting, half sucking, and in turn you reach to take a handful of soft pectoral and squeeze. He goes from blushing to a bright red.

“Oh… oh my…”

You and Crowley look at each other and grin. Individually you can get Aziraphale hot and bothered, but together? You’re a force majeure on your poor husband.

“You know what else I love, Crowley?”

“Go on, nightingale.”

“I love the sounds he makes when he wants to come.”

“Oh, me too.”

Aziraphale whimpers, actually whimpers, and as Crowley snares his lips in a kiss you bend over to take his cock in your mouth. You swallow him down until you feel him hit the back of your throat, making him languish there for a moment as Crowley steals the sounds of lust straight from the source. Going further, you press your nose against the fair curls at the base of his shaft before pulling back all the way to the tip to tongue his slit, letting the taste of his angelic precome flood you. Your eyes roll back in your head.

You’d fuck these two forever if you could. Really. You’ve never become bored of each other’s bodies, in fact to know them as intimately as the three of you do only means you know the ways to drive each other wild. Crowley buries his hand in your hair, knowing Aziraphale is far too polite to do it, and begins to help you move up and down his length, smearing him with spit as you keep trying to take him deeper.

“Go on, nightingale. That’s it. Fuck, you look good doing that.”

“I’m… I’m going to…” Aziraphale breathes, breaking Crowley’s kisses just long enough to stammer out a warning.

“Come, angel,” Crowley says with a grin, encouraging you to go faster, “we want you to.”

With a moan that you’re sure is loud enough for the whole street to hear, Aziraphale orgasms in your mouth. Usually you’d swallow him straight down but you don’t have a chance, because when his hips stop their little ruts upwards while he spends, Crowley takes your face in his hands and guides you up to kiss him.

You unhurriedly entwine your tongue with your husband’s, making sure he knows he’s just as appreciated, and the two of you hum in pleasure as you share the taste of Aziraphale’s come.

“Oh,” Aziraphale manages, because it’s all he’s capable of at this sight of abject lust. To be adored is a wonderful thing, and by the two of you? It floods him with a pride he isn’t accustomed to.

You and Crowley both swallow before turning to look at him.

“Not done yet, are you angel? We’re just getting started.”

Aziraphale moans.

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry

#crowley x reader x aziraphale #ineffable husbands x reader #good omens x reader #request #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween

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flower-boi16 · 7 months

Text

You Didn't Know: A Beautiful Song With No Impact

So...You Didn't Know. You Didn't Know is definitely one of my personal favorite songs in the show, simply because like all the songs in HH, its incredibly well sung with a good melody and lyrics. But...I can't help but find the song...hollow. The song is good, but there are so many things about it that could have been so much more impactful that aren't because of the writing outside of the song.

The song is supposed to be a big turning point for the series; its this grand epic musical number and the climax of episode 6, it's supposed to make you feel something...but It doesn't. And that's because the things that actually happen in the song don't have any real impact on the viewer because of the writing in the rest of the show; here's why.

The song begins with Emily singing about how Charlie actually proved that Sinners can be redeemed and how unfair it is that they are still turn their backs, after that, Charlie stands up to Sera and sings about it noting being fair, how a sinner can be redeemed. Then Adam and Lute come in singing about how stupid the discussion is and take some lyrics from Hell Is Forever.

Now, you have Charlie and Emily singing about how souls can be redeemed and calling out Sera for her bullshit, and you also have Adam and Lute come in spewing out their black and white nonesense.

So why isn't this verse impactful? Simple; we never actually saw Angel Dust grow as a person, it happened off-screen. I already talked about why Hazbin Hotel's themes of redemption feel ungodly hollow as well as how hollow Angel Dust's "development" in episode 6 is, and both problems greatly harm this song as a whole and are part of why it feels so hollow; just imagine how much more impact this lyrics would feel if we actually saw Charlie help Angel Dust grow and become a better person, if it came after a full season of character development for the guy, if it came after we got to actually see Charlie help redeem him.

This is what I mean when I say that this song is harmed by the writing around it; in isolation, it sounds like a kickass song, but as something that's part of the story, it feels very hollow. And it wouldn't feel so hollow if the writing around it was better, but it isn't.

These lyrics don't feel impactful because we never saw Angel Dust's development into becoming a better person, it happened completely and utterly off-screen, and that's a major issue.

Then after that, Adam actidentally spells out the truth about the exterminations just existing and Emily is shocked by this. Sera tries to explain why saying that she wanted to protect Emily and she had to do what she thought she needed to, buuuuuut Emily isn't buying and her view of Sera bassically shatters.

So, we have a character whose whole view of someone who she admired completely shattered after finding out the things that she was doing, basically being murdering people. This would be very impactful...if Emily was a character that the audience actually cared about. Again, this is something that's affected by an outside problem with the show's writting, that being; introducing new characters and expecting the audience to instantly care about them.

I already talked about my issues with Emily as a character but a major issue with her is that we barely even KNOW her. She's introduced in this one episode and the show instantly expects you care despite her when we don't know her as a person or character yet. Again, imagine how much more impact this development would have if we actually got to know Emily as a character so we can care about her, what her interests, desires and personality are.

We don't need a full episode developing her, but like, a few scenes where we actually get to know her as a character and actually get to care about her would have made this more impactful.

And then in the grand climax of the song, we get a duet sung by Charlie and Emily about how bullshit Heaven's rules are with a reprise of Hell is Forever thrown in.

I don't have much to say about this part of the song, it just suffers from the same problem that the first part I talked about does; it doesn't have any impact because we skipped Angel Dust's development because this show only has eight episodes (for SOME REASON), so it, like the rest of the song, feels hollow.

So then we get to the end of the song, where Adam reveals to Charlie that Vaggie is an fallen angel, and dramatic music plays to signal how big of a reveal this is to Charlie...

...but it's not much of a reveal to the audience. The audience already knows that Vaggie is a fallen angel, so while this moment is impactful to Charlie, it's not exactly impactful to us. Imagine how much more impactful this moment would have been if this was the actual reveal that Vaggie was a fallen angel; the reveal would have shocked both Charlie and the audience and would have ended both the already epic and dramatic song and the episode on a dramatic note, providing one final big reveal to end the episode off.

But...we didn't really get that. This isn't as bad as the problems with the other parts of the song but it still feels like a big missed opportunity imo.

So...that was You Didn't Know. Its a good song with great singing and powerful instrumentation, but in terms of the narrative of the show itself, the song feels completely hollow. None of the things that happen in the song have any impact because of the writting around it, and this is not the only song with this issue.

Whatever It Takes has a very similar problem; the Vaggie parts are fine, its the Carmila ones that I take issue with. We have Carmilla singing about how she just wanted to protect her daughters but it falls flat due to Carmilla having a similar problem to Emily; she's a character that was just introduced in this episode that we are automatically expected to care about despite the fact we haven't even gotten to know her yet.

This song would have been a lot more impactful if we got to know and care about Carmilla as a character, like Emily, but we didn’t.

You Didn’t Know while a good song feels complete empty and hollow. It feels like it’s supposed to be the culmination of something…but it isn’t. The song is just completely empty and hollow due to it suffering from the writing around it, and if that writing was better, this song would have a lot more impact…but it doesn’t.

And THAT’S the song’s fatal flaw.

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism

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sematarygirls · 21 days

Text

Black Hole Fantasy — Sonny Carisi.

pairing: sonny carisi x reader

summary: you finally decide to tell sonny how you feel... in the middle of the night... without any warning whatsoever

warnings: none, really. angst if you squint but mostly fluff. probably some inaccuracies regarding nyc and apartment buildings, but plot convenience is more important

word count: 1.3k

a/n: based on my favorite song from the crane wives' new album beyond, beyond, beyond— black hole fantasy. i heard the last verse of the song and immediately thought of sonny, so i opened up tumblr and forewent sleep to write this.

Let's try this again

You and Sonny had a slightly rocky relationship. It wasn't him at all! He was the most perfect boyfriend in the world, and he was so patient and understanding about your commitment issues. You knew you were the problem, and as much as Sonny tried to reassure you that he was fine with taking things slow, you knew a part of him was frustrated.

You loved him so much, and you wanted to commit to him wholly and completely, but you found it hard to settle down with people. You feared that intimacy, that eventual physical and emotional closeness that all relationships somehow ended up at.

But, once again, you found yourself deciding that you were ready to be serious and talk to Sonny about moving the relationship in a more serious direction. It wasn't the first time you'd convinced yourself it was time to push yourself, but it somehow felt different this time. You felt like you were really ready.

Sonny was on your mind all the time. You couldn't get him out of your head. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled that breathtaking smile, the way his brow furrowed when he was thinking or listening really intently to someone, his hands waving in all directions when he was speaking about something he was passionate about— all the little quirks that made him him— you were completed enamored by them.

I'm on my way to your house, guided by the stars

You gripped the steering wheel as you made your way down the New York streets. That nagging voice in the back of your head was trying to tell you that you weren't ready, that you would never be ready, but you pushed it aside.

You couldn't push people away forever. At some point, you'd have to open up and be honest about how you feel, and tonight was the night.

You followed the street signs, recalling where Sonny lived. You didn't even think of how odd it might be to just show up in the middle of the night without so much as a warning; you were far too caught up in trying to keep your nerves at bay.

Your fingers drummed against the steering wheel, a song playing softly from the radio. It was one you knew well, which helped calm you a little as you sang along. You glanced at the clock, hoping he was home and still awake. You'd feel awfully guilty if you woke him up at this hour just to confess your undying love for him.

I'm pulling in the driveway, I'm turning off the car

You pulled up outside his apartment and cut the engine, staring at the door. God, were you really doing this?

Yes. Yes, you were doing this.

I'm running to your porch, I'm sprinting up the stairs

You took a deep breath and pulled out your phone, finding Sonny's contact and pressing the call button as you got out of your car and headed to the front door. You stood there awkwardly, listening to the phone ring.

God, this was a stupid idea. What were you thinking?

Just as you were about to turn and walk back to your car, he picked up.

"Hey," he hesitated, sounding like he was going to say something, but he thought better of it. "What's up?"

He didn't sound like he'd just woken up. That was good.

"Uh, hey," you responded awkwardly, kicking a pebble at your foot. "I'm downstairs. Can you buzz me in?"

He paused, and you heard shuffling on the other end. "Uh, yeah," he said. You could practically hear the furrow in his brow. "Give me a minute."

"Okay, thanks," you said, quickly hanging up. You didn't want to word vomit everything you had to say over the phone.

You heard the buzzing noise of the door unlocking and pulled it open, hurrying inside. You rushed to the elevator, practically running. You felt a little stupid, but you really needed to get this off your chest before you tried talking yourself out of it last minute.

"Stupid elevator," you grumbled, watching the floors slowly tick by, antagonizing you. You could've sworn it got slower and slower as it reached the ground floor.

Once inside, you pressed the button to his floor frantically. You figured you must have looked insane, but you didn't care. You groaned in frustration as the elevator ascended just as slowly as it had descended.

Finally, you reached his floor, rushing to his door. You take a breath. "No going back, now," you think, knocking on the door.

the door swings open, and you're standing there

Your heart is pounding as he opens the door, greeting you with that big warm smile that always made your heart melt. You couldn't help but smile back, your nerves calming just at the sight of him. You'd never felt this way with anyone— this safe and so unconditionally loved.

you're beaming down at me, you're reaching out for me / you pull me in your arms, and i feel your heart pounding

"Hey," he said again, pulling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, eyes fluttering shut as he engulfed you in his warm, comforting embrace.

"Hi," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel his damp hair on your neck and the strong scent of his shampoo, and you can't help but take a deep breath, inhaling his scent. He smelled like home.

i take a step back to catch my breath

"What are you doing here?" He asked as you pulled away from him. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you— cause' I totally am!" He looks at you, his brows furrowing softly. You could practically see the wheels churning in his head. He was worried that something was wrong.

"I'm in love with you," you blurted out. Your cheeks heated up as you realized your mistake. You had a whole speech planned. You wanted to sit down inside and hold his hand and pour your heart out.

Instead, you confessed your love in the hallway, looking like a deer in headlights like an idiot.

and we look at each other and double over / and laugh, and laugh, and laugh

You couldn't help but start to giggle, something you did when you got nervous. And your giggles only worsened, turning to full blown laughs when you saw the bewildered look on his face.

He couldn't help but smile, watching you break out into a fit of laughter, and soon, both of you were standing there laughing like lunatics. If anyone walked by, they'd probably think you two just escaped an asylum with how odd it would have looked.

Slowly, you two began to catch your breaths, the laughter dying out as you stared at each other, neither of you knowing who should say anything first.

"I'm in love with you too," he replied softly, his hand finding your waist and pulling you closer. "God, I'm in love with you."

You smiled up at him, and for the first time, you didn't feel scared. You weren't worrying about what would come next or if you were ready. You were just in the moment with him.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, like he was promising that what he said was true. You wrapped your arms around his neck, melting into him.

"We should probably get out of the hallway before one of my neighbors wanders out to see what all the noise is about," he grinned, pulling away from the kiss, his face still hovering close to yours. "they already don't like me. I hardly think public displays of affection will win me any brownie points."

"Shut up, you dork," you laughed, leaning in to kiss him again and gently curling your fingers into his freshly washed hair. He groaned into your mouth, pulling you inside and kicking the door closed behind him. You smiled against his lips.

You were finally happy, and you didn't plan on letting it go any time soon.

#🎀#why am i squealing rn #this is so cutesy #fluff #sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #dominick carisi jr x reader #dominick carisi #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order #l&o svu #the crane wives #black hole fantasy

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jessnotfoundd · 2 years

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭?

Finding out you're pregnant and telling them.

(You can send me ideas or thing you want me to write about them or some one specifically)

Dad!verse masterlist

Masterlist here!

Dream

After the talk, you both decided to be calm about it, so within two months you were waiting for your period, last month it came, so no baby, this month, you felt more tired than ever, so in your mind, you were hoping that now it's positive.

The test was taking longer than needed or you just didn't want to see it?. But when you open your eyes, test in front of your eyes, your mouth open wide, as well your eyes. It was real, it was not another negative test. It's a positive one. You smile and run to Clay's steam room, where he was editing some vlog. You wanted to give the news in a special way but with the extreme amount of excitement, you couldn't take it.

-Babe.- you move his chair so he is now facing you.

-Yes?- his eyes take a minute to see your happiness and he smiles too.

-I am- it's all you say and now tears of joy are escaping from your eyes- I'm pregnant- he jumps out of the chair and hugs you, turning around with you.

-We are gonna be so good, we're gonna do good.- his forehead on yours. Both of you smiling.

Sapnap

You knew. You know your body so bad. It's been 4 months since you decided to do this and you were so upset you haven't missed your period in none of those months. But war is over, you knew this time was right. The test is now hidden in the gift you prepared for the year anniversary of being married. A teddy bear customized as sapnap. Under it. The positive test for pregnancy.

-Open my gift- he says super happy, when you do so, you melt, a necklace with a picture of you two.-Hopefully one day there will be a picture of our family.- his hand is on yours, and your smile.

-Open mine- you smile, tears already coming. He laughs the minute he sees the teddy, but his eyes go a little down, noticing there's something else in the bag.

-I knew it.- he says eyes watery. Smiling big.

-How?- you're surprised, how did he find out?

-I guess i really pay attention to you and this week you were feeling sick, we had so many rushes to store for cravings, and laziness, I mean, you never were lazy.- he smiles wide and you let the tears run down your cheeks, he is so kind and perfect.

George

He was super into having a baby, so it wasn't a surprise that 4 weeks later your last period (which finished one day before having the talk) you were late on it. So you just waited two more days, just in case, but after those two days, the British boy and you rushed to the closest pharmacy to get a pregnancy test.

-So we might do a baby and I can´t see you pee on the stick?- he says annoyed.

-Exactly, now, let me pee, or do you want to pee for me?- I smirk.

-If i could i would.- he jokes and closes the door in front of him.

The waiting turned agonizing for both, but it was worth it. You both run to tell Dream and Sapnap they were going to be uncles.

Karl

This man would be desperate to have a positive pregnancy test, he would ask you every other day if you want to take one.

-Karl, babe, we have to wait at least a month to see if my period comes or not- he looked sad.-We have to be patient, remember?- he nods and goes back to whatever he was doing.

After your period date is late on his calendar (he insisted on knowing when it's supposed to be) he rushes to your work and after your shift is done, he takes a pregnancy test out of his pack.

-Your period is late, you know what that means?- he smiles and you do so, taking this moment and being sure to keep it forever in your memories.

-Fine, let's go home, and then I'll do the test.- you take it and lean to kiss him.

When the test turns out positive he's so happy, he wants to tell everyone, so you both just decided to find a good idea to tell everyone.

Quackity

This special occasion needed some special effort so you practice how to say it in Spanish.

-Babe- you get into the kitchen with the positive test on your pocket

-Yeah?- he's there making coffee for both, the cold morning asks for it.

-mhm- you hesitate but you are proud of your effort, so you just say it.- Estoy.... embarazada- you finish with doubt and he's already seeing you like a gosht.

-You sure you mean that you're pregnant?- you nod and take the positive test out of your pocket to show him. He's overwhelmed, but runs to your side to bring you in a hug.- oh god, you are.- he assures, and you both smile. He pulls you in for a kiss and the rest of the morning is basically you both telling you're families on facetime calls

Punz

You did the test and hope in the shower for a super quick shower before heading to your morning classes.

-Oh my god.- you heard luke on the other side of the curtain.

-What?- you have your eyes closed, enjoying the warm water falling on your head.

-We are pregnant- he says holding the test with the curtain a little open so you can see him.

-Luke!- you close the curtain so he can't see you.

-You mean that we are going to have a child but you don't want me to see you in the shower?- he laughs.

-Shut up, I'm pregnant.- you smile.

-We are darling, we are.- he jokes, resting on the door and looking at the positive test.

-I am the only one pregnant, Luke.- he signs.

-I'm Luke now?- he mumbles.

-Babe, why are you so dramatic?- you appear in his sight vision, a towel on your head, and others around your body.

-I'm gonna be a dad.- he brings you for a kiss and smile.

Foolish

He was there all the goddamn time, he was so sweet. You text him if he could come over because he was at Karl, who is both neighbors haha. He was going thru the door a second after you texted.

-You okay? something happened?- he checks on you and you show him the little box of the pregnancy test. -Oh- he's speechless.

-Want you to be here if it is positive, and I'm pretty sure it's gonna be.- you said with a smile. He takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom.

-Come on, piss on it baby- you both laugh.

When the positive was there, you couldn't believe it. Spent the rest of the night talking about the baby's stuff and just enjoying the presence of each other.

Wilbur

You were sure you were pregnant, and the negative tests were fake, so you decided to get a blood pregnancy test, you decided to keep it to yourself in case it was negative, but when the results were in your email box, you didn't want to open it. You did, and you're glad, cause it is a positive test, you are pregnant.

You call Will right away and told him that you both were going to have dinner for a big surprise. So when you're shift was over at the office, he pick you up.

-I cooked, i didn't feel like going out he says the moment you sit in the car.-Hope you're okay with it.- he kisses you and smiles. You are smiling so wide that he feels strange.-You have a big surprise I guess- he laughs and you nod.

-But ill have to wait until we are home.- he pouts and gets the car going.

At home, you are both almost eating now, and he is about to serve you wine, but you hold the bottle before he could pour it into the glass.

-You don't want wine?- he looks strange at you, you always had wine with big surprises and good news.

-It's not that i don't want to, it's that I can't.- you smile wide and he keeps it without picking it up.

-Why? are you taking medicine and i don't know?- he feels like a bad husband now.

-Will, I'm pregnant.- you hold his cheeks and he smiles wide like you are.

-No more wine for you- he leaves the bottle forgotten on the table and picks you in a hug, planting a kiss on your lips, smiling in the middle of this.

The celebration is long and you both feel like you're now complete.

-So i can talk to them?- he points at your stomach.

-Will, there's a group of cells, growing them will take a time.-He looks offended.

-There is our son!- he laughs, the wine kicking in.

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