#well. maybe it's more like he was more capable of doing so without the weight of so much and the threat of repercussion etc etc

[lasnevadaslaborunion]

I genuinely do love the prison arc and find it fascinating and I wish it was easier to find content and analysis about it that didn't veer to any of the Very Not Fun extremes

[lale-txt]

✱ confessing to you w/ Gojo, Nanami, Higuruma & gn!reader

@snailor-bee asked: LALEEEEE!!! (o゜▽゜)o♥ WHAT'S THIS I HEAR?? REQUESTS ARE OPEN?? FOR MORE FANDOMS?? You just know I just gotta... May I please request Gojo, Higuruma, and Nanami trying to confess to reader? (*/ω＼*) Like headcanons/drabbles whichever. I just think it's real cute. And you're real cute. It just works out perfectly, hehe. Hoping you're doing well!! ;3; Sending you hugs and kisses!!

a/n: BEE my sweet (´⌣`ʃƪ) it feels like forever since i for around writing something for you, so i was super excited when you sent something in for me! i had a lot of fun writing these small drabbles, i hope they're to your liking! ps: i think YOU are super cute love you ok bye

➸ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐: Geto, Toji & Shiu

❦ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Gojo is used to being fawned on. He has the good looks and he knows. Keeps running his mouth without any consequences because there simply are none when you’re Gojo Satoru. The strongest. The balance of the world depends on him. He’s untouchable.

And then there’s you, who is tearing his whole act down with such ease, it makes his heart stop.

You don’t fuss over him and you don’t bow before him. His name doesn’t fall out of your mouth as if he was a deity, someone holy; and still it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard. When you call out for him, Gojo wants to be there in an instant. There’s this unknown calmth whenever he’s with you, his heart feeling lightweight somehow. He’s drawn to you like the tide to the moon.

For someone as grand as Gojo, he loves so quietly. 

He can’t bring himself to say those words out loud, as if they carried a weight that threatened what you two have. Still, he doesn’t know what to do with all this love; he never learned where to put it down. You can handle it, can you? The burden and the curse of being loved? You wouldn’t be scared to love him back, right?

So Gojo makes sure to show you his love in the most mundane things, so there’s no room for doubt just how tight he holds you in his heart. Midnight strolls to the candy aisle at the supermarket. I love you. A hand on the small of your back when you’re moving through a large crowd. I love you. Your fingertips brushing over his long white lashes while he rests his weary head in your lap under the cherry blossoms. I love you. 

It’s only when you kiss him one night, in the middle of the parking lot, that those big words get caught in his throat. Six eyes aren’t enough to comprehend the feeling in his chest when his big hands cup your face, as if he wants to hinder you from ever pulling away from him. It would be so easy to mumble his confession against your lips, but you already know. So instead he simply kisses you back, sweeping you off your feet when you lose your balance from being on your tiptoes. 

He smiles when you shush him with another kiss. He doesn’t need to say it out loud; you know, you’ve always known.

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Nanami’s confession is apologetic.

The words have been weighing on his heart until one night, they just fall out of his mouth. Maybe he had one drink too many, not enough to be drunk, but enough to loosen his tongue. His thumb rubbing over the rim of his glass, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, his tie not so accurate anymore. He isn’t looking at you; it’s easier if his gaze doesn’t catch yours, if his eyes can’t wander to your lips. Your hands are next to each other on the bar counter, almost touching. He could close the distance so easily, but he’s aware that he wouldn’t be able to let go of your hand anymore.

“I’m in love with you.”

His voice is low, whisky-raspy. The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable; it’s a warmth that’s surrounding you like a veil. At this moment, it’s just you and him. In another life, this could have been so easy, couldn’t it? In a life where he doesn't have to worry about fighting curses, and the horrors humans are capable of, and about the day he might not come back home to you from work. He wouldn’t have to break your heart like that.

“So deeply, utterly in love with you.”

In another life, you could have had it all. The shared books on the nightstand, the matching rings on your fingers, the messy blankets in the morning. Maybe he was being greedy, yearning for this. He couldn’t help himself when you tugged on his heartstrings like that. He tried to fight it, this attraction to you; but the more he tried to keep his distance, the more he yearned for a glimpse of your attention. Your bright smile from the other side of the room–it should have been enough. And still…

“I hope you can forgive me.”

Was it really greed that made him cradle your face in his palms, gazing into your eyes before leaning in for a kiss? No… no. But he knows he can never let go of you now, not when he tasted the sweetness of your lips. Not when you kiss him back with such hunger, years of yearning unraveling in this very moment. Not when forgiveness lies on the tip of your tongue, asking to be devoured. All he can do is hope that when his time comes, you’ll let him pick up the pieces of your broken heart and that the light of your love will guide him somewhere south; back to the warmth the two of you feel in this very moment with his lips on yours. 

❦ 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀

Higuruma has no doubt in his heart regarding his feelings for you. They’re clear as day to him. His heart leaps in his chest when you enter a room and your laughter washes away all of his exhaustion for a bit. 

He studied you from afar for a long time; he can read all of your small gestures and expressions like a language only you and him know. The way your tongue pokes out between your lips when you’re in deep focus, reading over a file from a case you’re working on with him. Your fingertips picking up a tiny piece of lint from his suit before you enter the courtroom together and the small smile playing on your lips when he looks over his shoulder to catch what you’re doing. That one strand of hair that seems to be loose no matter how often you try to tuck it away, much to your annoyance and his adoration. 

“I’d like to ask you out.”

His words are as clear as his intentions. Higuruma is a straightforward man, not brash but gentle in his own way. With him, you don’t have to wonder what's between you two, he’ll tell you what’s on his mind and he’ll expect the same from you. Never pushy, but longing for connection, for mutual understanding. He sees no point in hiding his feelings and he knows you’re clever, you’ve probably had them figured out anyway. 

Higuruma and you have to face them daily, the abysses of the human mind. It’s easy to let your heart go cold over them, to lose a bit of your own humanity. And yet, when your eyes meet, it’s all forgotten. It’s like he can see the essence of your soul and you can see his and it’s all golden; so golden.

You don’t pull away when his fingers weave between yours one night when you leave the office together. He feels a sense of relief wash over him in this moment, not because he was afraid that you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, but because his world got a bit brighter in this moment, a bit warmer. He missed this for much longer than he’d admit.

To Higuruma, loving you comes easy. It feels as natural as breathing. It calms him, as if you’re the eye of a storm. And so he doesn’t even hesitate to say those words out loud, almost stating them like a matter of fact, and sealing them with a kiss. Guilty of loving you.

[un-lawliet]

Can I PLEASE request more soft gojo fics pleaseee. Maybe in jujitsu tech where he barges in the class we're teaching just to give us a goodbye kiss because he's going on a mission and he just can't go without a kiss! 🥺

“Teacher, Teacher”

-in which Gojo visits you before he leaves for his mission.

“And so Maki!” You say, staring down at the faces of your students, your arms opening in a hug like motion towards them.

“When using any of your cursed tools, make sure you protect your weak points, it’s essential!”

It was late in the afternoon, and you were currently going over your students last performance in training, your eyes lit up with passionate praise as you evaluated their improvements.

Maki nods, her face resting on her palm, her glasses slipping down her nose slightly.

“Now..Panda.” You turn, looking at him a grin on your face.

Panda straightens, cocking his fluffy head in acknowledgement to your engagement.

You giggle, “Well, you did great! However, maybe try to rely a little less on your size and more on the technical aspect of your attacks.”

“Tuna.” You hear Inumaki sigh, rubbing his shin in which Panda had sat on mid battle.

“If I have the weight shouldn’t I use it?” Panda questions gently, ignoring Inumaki entirely.

You nod, “Of course! Just not to the point where your entire strength hinges on it…If that makes sense..”

“Try throw a punch she means.” Maki interrupts, leaning back in her chair yawning.

“Salmon.”

“Listen, I can’t help it if my battle tactics are different from you’s two” Panda huffs.

“So what? You gonna sit on a curse?”

“Maybe I will.” Panda replies, sticking out his chest, “See if they can handle me!”

Inumaki’s shoulder slumps as he writes something on the book in front of him before holding it up.

“You’ll get destroyed.”

“The hell? No I won’t.”

Maki leans over to read Inumaki’s writing before laughing to herself, “He has a point y’know”

“Stupid point.”

“Bonito flakes.”

“Ooh someone’s mad I beat him.”

“OoOoh some Panda’s mad that he gets annihilated by a grade 4 curse.” Maki cheekily replies, her eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Hey!” You interupt, “Nobodys getting annihilated when I’m the teacher.”

Your students sigh and turn back to you, Inumaki sticking out his tounge to Panda in his movements.

And you giggle to yourself fondly.

You love being a teacher.

After training at Jujutsu Tech it seemed the only natural course for you, you had strength of course, but your real talent stemmed from your ability to create battle plans that exploited sorcerers strengths and disguised their weaknesses.

Yaga had welcomed you as a co-worker just a couple days after your graduation, his grin wide as he explained your duties before frowning at someone behind you.

“And what are you doing here Satoru.”

“What? I’m here to teach.”

“Huh?” You had said turning to look at him.

Even Shoko, who you would tease for her stoicism, raised an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna teach?” She said, “You.”

Gojo placed a hand on his heart, a dramatic showing of offence present in the way he opened his mouth and gasped, “Is it that weird?”

“Yes.” You all deadpanned.

Yaga scratched the back of his head, “Never in all my years of teaching you, have you ever shown an interest in teaching.”

“Well, it’s different now.” Gojo replied simply, grinning at his previous teacher, gloating. “Someone has to look after this one.” He nodded towards you, winking.

“Look after me??” You exclaim, turning to face him fully, your arms crossed, “I’m more than capable of-”

“Is this about Geto?” Shoko had asked plainly, resting her chin on her palm, staring Gojo out.

All of you went silent.

“No, not at all.”

Gojos’ expression had turned cold, as if the very mention of his best friend could freeze any conversation, any fleeting moment. You felt uneasy, your body closing in on itself to fight off the chill.

“Are you sure-”

“Yes.”

It was awkward.

Gojo and Shoko staring at eachother, as if commuting in a silent battle in which you and Yaga could not understand.

Quiet. Until Yaga interupted with a sigh, shaking his head.

“You’ll have to do an interview.”

“HUH?” Gojo replied, his head swinging back to Yaga, breaking his battle with Shoko instantaneously.

“Y/N didn’t need an interview?”

“Y/N is not a reckless.”

“Neither am I!!”

And you remember laughing into your palm, the pain of the past dissipating for a split second, as Gojo pouted, and followed Yaga into his office, as Shoko congratulated you on your new job.

Your new job that you had kept for the last 10 years.

…With Satoru Gojo.

Who had somehow, along the way, stole your heart.

Your phone buzzes from your desk, and you glance at it to see a message for Satoru, asking you if you wanted anything back from his mission later.

You deflate a little at the reminder.

You weren’t going to see Gojo before his mission due to your scheduled classes with the second years.

It had been a while since you had properly spent time with him, you missed seeing his silly face.

You sigh, you’ll reply later.

“So Maki, were you with Nobara yesterday?” You hear Panda start as you tune back into your students conversation.

“Huh? Yea? We were training.”

“Oh oh oh…Private training sessions…” Panda smirks, and you swear Maki’s glare could kill.

“Salmonnn~.”

“Shut up Inumaki.”

“Look Inumaki she’s totally blushing!” Panda laughs, you think it sounds more like a roar.

“That’s it! I swear to God, next training session I will fuc-”

The sliding door behind you opens, and you turn to see your boyfriend waltz into the room, bending to pass through the threshold.

“There she is!” Gojo says, opening his arms in your direction.

“Oh here we go.” Maki mutters.

Gojo was beaming, his mouth carrying the weight of his expression, teeth bared in a wide grin, eyes hidden behind his blindfold.

He raised his arms and walked towards you, ignoring your students exasperation, only focusing on you.

“Hello!” You say, as he pulls you into his chest, giving you a big; dramatic kiss on your head, swaying gently.

“Thought you were leaving?” You question, leaning towards him.

“I was, but someone didn’t reply to my text.” Gojo huffs back, pulling away to watch your face.

“How can I face this world’s dangers if I’m being ignored!?”

“You just sent it Toru.”

“Aha! So you did see it!”

“I was gonna reply later.”

Gojo shakes his head, pouting, “Not good enough.”

You watch amused as he taps his cheek twice, challenging you.

You giggle rising up on your feet to kiss his cheek, before you push him away by the chest.

“Go!” You say, your voice light, “You got your goodbyes, don’t let me hold you back.”

And he just looks at you, a soft smile on his face and you miss the cheeky look he gives you before leaning down and quickly kissing you.

It was small and gentle, and you barely register the disgusted groans of your students, your cheeks warning.

“I’ll be home by 10.” Gojo says, patting your head, “Don’t wait up for me if you’re tired yea?”

And you nod, although you both know that you’ll stay up to see him regardless.

“Be safe!” You call after him, as he walks away, a spring in his step.

“Always am baby!”

And then he’s gone, and you’re left speechless and smiling.

“God, can we leave?” Maki groans, “I feel sick.”

“You just wish that was you and Nobara Maki.” Panda teases, and you hear Inumaki laugh, slapping the desk.

Maki’s face turns bright red and she stands up from her desk, pointing a finger at Panda.

“You and me outside now, we can see if Pandas can survive being buried alive!”

“Oh it’s on!”

You lift an eyebrow and all three of them rise, not bothering to stop them.

“Please try not to kill each other.” You call after them, laughing as Inumaki salutes you before he exits.

…You love being a teacher.

masterlist <3

FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A REQUEST

A/N THANK U FOR THE REQUEST !!! i decided just to write it silly, just bc i’m not too good at the characterisation of the second year students EEK so i hope this is ok !!!!! i love gojo <3 also i wrote this instead of getting ready for work so AHHHHHH i have to panic get ready now so that’s fun

i love you all have a lovely LOVELY day thank u for reading :)

[visionsofmagic]

◜ how mk1 men will carry you ◞

▸ includes: mostly all the characters [mk1 versions] ◂

▸ tags&notes: drabble, fluff, a little bit spicy, pet names, I couldn’t find a suitable one for kenshi to be in, no proofread but will be edited grammatically later on, ‘is all, enjoy! ◂ m.

in his arms; rising you up in the air, picking you up from the waist or back as his other arms hug you from under the knees, making you feel like your weight is nothing to him. he is gentle with you while carrying you into the place you need to, mostly to the bed. he doesn’t wait for you to say it, he does it for you without hesitation because he likes to take care of you; you are so exhausted to go into bed? he is there for you. you are just wanting him to do it? he will definitely do it without any question. you are being a little teasing and jokes about his strength only for him to show you how strong he is? oh, he’s sure he will show you how powerful he is.

he takes care of you in every way he can and if it means to carry you for his whole life like this, he will do it right away. he’s a lover of affection, helping his significant other, and enjoying it.

“a princess like you should be always stay in my arms so that I can protect you always even though you are capable of it,” he says, smiling widely and putting a kiss on your cheek, “oh and with this position, I can kiss all over your face, my love.”

••• liu kang, kung lao, kuai liang

on his shoulder; he is for sure doesn’t like when you being stubborn or brat with him sometimes. he tries to carry you but you don’t agree with him, saying how you’re strong enough to walk on your own, not need any assistance but even though he doesn’t say it aloud, he cares about you, so, when he has lack of patience, he just picks you up, putting your body on his back as you face with his well built back, his hand behind your knees, feet hitting the lower part of his abdomen.

trying to get out of his hold, you kick him - without hurting him, but it ends with a spank right on your exposed ass which is standing right beside his face, below his shoulder. moaning with pain, you try to hit his head while cursing, but you get another hit on the ass once again, jumping a little because of the impact.

“stay still woman!” he says, sounding both irritated and entertained, “be grateful I am fond of you that much to take you on my back.” he will scoff when you act like a brat and wanting another spank. “imperishable pretty.”

••• bi han, havik, reiko, shao

by the waist; he will definitely hold you by the waist or hips, making you jump in the air and ending it when your legs wrapped around his waist, hands in his shoulders as he puts one of his hand on your back and the other under your ass to stay in balance while walking towards the bed. he will, for sure, tease you orally and even putting some kisses on your face while smirking down at you as you walk. putting your head on his shoulder, you are trying to hide the heat rushing towards your face but he knows you are the one who jump right into his arms without thinking twice the moment he opens his arms to you.

chuckling, or smirking, he will walk slowly intentionally only to spend more time with you like this; you are hugging him like a koala and he hugs you back with all his strength, showing off his ability of carrying you as if you haven’t enough weight to make him go exhausted.

“right the place you belong to doll!” he will smirk fondly and foolishly, “my mighty arms! don’t worry honey, your beloved perfect boyfriend will take you to the bed.” he then wink at you, “and then maybe you can give me a reward for my efforts, huh?” agh, such a tease.

••• johnny cage, shang tsung

on his back; he will kneel down, showing you his back for you to climb up so that he can treat you like a queen, giving you what you need as he believes - his aid and assistance every time you need. he will wait until you get into his back, positioning the most comfortable position, putting your legs around his abdomen, hugging him from the neck with your hands. picking you up from behind of your knees, he makes sure you will have a safe journey as he adjusts your body in synchronized with his, turning around and asking whether you feel okay or not.

when everything is fine, he moves, slowly and gently, listening every word you say, looking at the direction you show and going according to your instructions. you are the one which is control and he likes being this close with you and he doesn’t show any tiredness even when you see a wonderful sight, showing it to him as you jump a little on his back and smiling widely.

he mirrors your smile back, “none of these sights can compared to my view,” he says while blushing, looking at you so that you can get his reference. chuckling, he adds when he sees how you hide your face on his shoulder, still looking at him, “the most precious and prettiest thing I have ever seen.” and at the end of the day, he will be the one who asks to carry you once again.

••• syzoth, tomas, raiden

💚

[lilmoonbunny]

Co-Workers to Lovers; Albert Wesker

Warnings: Cheating boyfriend (reader's bf, not Wesker), alcohol consumption, implied nsfw.

Working alongside Albert Wesker was… interesting.

He was cold, rude, blunt, and so on with all his workers, except for you.

He wasn’t a lot nicer, but there wasn’t the same amount of judgement, hatred, and annoyance in his tone when he spoke to you.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he would kill them, your co-workers would joke that he has a sweet spot for you.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have one for him also. Most of your co-workers hated you for the special treatment you got from Wesker, so he was basically all you had at Umbrella.

Your boyfriend wasn’t fond of your work-relationship with Albert, something about how he “didn’t trust the creep” and how “he’s trying to steal you from me”.

You never believed any of that, but then again, you never believed that your boyfriend would cheat on you either.

Well, until the night you came home from work earlier than usual to the sound of moans from your bedroom.

At first, you thought maybe he was masturbating. After all, it had been a while since you two had last had sex. Work Albert had been keeping you busy.

The moment you heard the female moans, you knew what was happening, but you couldn’t stop yourself from entering the room.

“Really?” You asked him, watching his face morph from pleasure, to shock, to anger.

“You’re home early!”

“Clearly.”

Without another word, you left the room as your boyfriend of three years rushed to put his pants on and chase after you, but before he could reach you, you had already left, beginning to walk in the pouring rain.

You didn’t know what to do or where to go, so you ended up back at work. They had beds for those doing 24-hour shifts, so you could just take one of those.

“I thought you finished for today. Why are you here, and why are you wet? You’re dripping on the floor.” Whilst his words would seem annoyed, there was an underlying tone of concern in Albert’s tone.

“My boyfriend cheated on me; I walked here in the rain. Sorry, Sir.” You whispered, avoiding eye contact.

Had you been paying attention, you would have noticed the way his jaw clenched in anger, but all you heard was an annoyed sigh followed by you being told to follow him.

He took you to his office, bluntly telling you to sit before leaving the room.

You waited, eyes still staring at the floor rather than the room around you.

You were embarrassed more than anything. First your boyfriend cheats on you for God only knows how long, and now you’re crying to your boss.

“It’s not your fault.” Wesker’s deep voice sounds from behind you, the weight of a towel being placed on your shoulder pulls you from your self-deprecating thoughts.

You shrug and he sighs again, taking a seat in his chair.

“Look at me.” You do.

It isn’t easy for him, not at all, but he does do his best to put on a somewhat kinder face and try to comfort you.

“He’s a moron. Don’t worry about that idiot. You deserve better.” He says. “You deserve me” sounds his internal voice, but he ignores it.

With a quiet sigh, you nod and agree. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Albert is quite fine, Dear.” The name causes you to blush and you silently pray that he doesn’t notice or will just pass it off as you being cold, but he isn’t stupid.

“Thank you, Albert.”

Wesker can’t deny the way his body reacts when his name rolls from your tongue, but he can sure as hell ignore it. He doesn’t need feelings. He isn’t capable of them, he tells himself.

“You can stay in my office for the time being. I finish in an hour or two, I’ll drive you back to my place.” It wasn’t an invitation, it was a demand, but one that you didn’t want to turn down.

“Thank you.” You repeat, and he simply nods, passing you some dry clothes, and leaving to return to work.

Once he finished work, Albert gathered his things and lead you to his car.

Being the gentleman he is, although it was only for you, he held the door open for you, enjoying the way you blushed and muttered a thank you.

The drive was quiet. It was late, dark, and you were both deep in your thoughts.

He was wondering if he had made a mistake inviting you to stay at his home until you were back on your feet. He didn’t know how long he could go without kissing or touching you, but it also didn’t sit right with him making you stay at Umbrella offices where it wasn’t safe, or with your cheating boyfriend.

However, all you could think about was how good he looked driving, his hands tightened around the wheel and the gearstick. There was something oddly attractive about it.

Despite him being deep in his own thoughts, he didn’t fail to notice and couldn’t help the smirk on his lips which made you blush once again.

“We’re here,” he said, quickly moving to open your door for you and lead you into his mansion house, enjoying the shock on your face.

“Thank you, Albert,” you smiled at him as soon as you two were sat with drinks in your hands. “It means a lot to me. More than you can imagine.”

“It’s no problem, Dear.”

Over the weeks that you had stayed at his place, it was safe to say that you and Albert had grown closer, the same as your feelings had grown more for one another.

Albert was working more to keep himself busy, as were you, but the drives home were becoming more and more painful each time.

It was obvious to him that you had feelings for him, but he was him. Albert Wesker isn’t exactly the king of relationships, or even friendships; he had betrayed everyone in his life, after all.

He couldn’t resist, however, placing his large hand on your thigh as he drove, enjoying the way you tensed up beneath his touch and a blush ran to your cheeks, but you remained silent.

Having enjoyed your reaction, this was something he began doing every journey. He loved seeing you flustered, even more so when you stuttered when he spoke to you during the drive.

“No need to stutter, Dear. It’s only us.” He would say with a smirk.

You didn’t know how much longer you could last without touching him either, but you were afraid of rejection. Sure, he touched you, but what if he didn’t want you to touch him.

He could sense your hesitation and didn’t expect you to ever do anything, at least, until you laid your hand on top of his that rested on your thigh, your head lying on the glass of the window. It was clear you were tired, and perhaps that was why you were doing it.

You fell asleep that drive, the sound of rain and feeling of Albert’s hand touching your own lulling you into a deep sleep, one that he didn’t want to wake you from., so he didn’t. Instead, he carefully lifted you and carried you to the room you had been staying in. Your room.

Your relationship grew closer from there. You trusted him and, scarily enough for him, he trusted you also.

You went out one night with your friends, Wesker telling you to call him when you were ready to come home, and he would pick you up; he didn’t trust anyone but himself to get you home safely.

You had talked about him all night, leaving your friends wondering what was happening between you both. That was when you finally admitted it to yourself: you loved him.

Whilst the thought had always been there, completely admitting it to yourself was terrifying, but it had to be done.

However, the only way you felt you could properly think on this was by drinking more.

When it reached 3am, you texted him telling him you’ll get a cab since he was likely asleep.

Don’t be stupid, I’ll come get you. I can’t sleep. Where are you? Came his immediate reply. He would never admit it, but he stayed up worrying about you.

He was there moments later, helping you into the car so you didn’t fall with a sigh.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked upon realising that he wasn’t touching you for the first time in weeks.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then why aren’t you touching me?”

“You’re drunk. I’m not touching you whilst you’re drunk, Y/N.”

A blush ran up your cheeks at the realisation and your drunk self couldn’t stop the words leaving your lips.

“But what if I want you to? What if I want you to do more than hold my thigh?” You’d regret that in the morning, but you were too drunk to care.

Albert’s hand tightened on the wheel at your words, doing his best to calm his breathing before responding.

“You’re still drunk. I’m not taking advantage of you whilst you’re under the influence. If you still want it tomorrow, then I will.” Were the final words for the night before you fell asleep and he, yet again, carried you inside, the smallest smile on his lips.

The following morning you were terrified of facing him, remembering what you had said, so you stayed inside your room until noon when a knock came on your door.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N. We need to talk.” Came his stern voice that had both your heart and thoughts racing, assuming the worst.

“Okay.” Came your meek response as you opened the door, allowing him into the room.

It was silent for a few moments, before you offered him a seat beside you.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” He asked, staring at you. “Be honest, I won’t be offended if you say no.”

His words confused you, but as you stared at him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his pupils dilated whilst he stared back, lips slightly parted. You weren’t dumb, you knew what that meant. He wanted you the same way you wanted him.

Rather than responding, you closed the gap between both of you, his hands instantly moving to push the straps of your dress that you had failed to change out of down your shoulders.

Once you pulled away, breathless and half undressed, he chuckled quietly.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He teased, but you ignored it and pressed your lips to his again in desperation.

Maybe it had always been him since you met him. Maybe your cheating ex-boyfriend was just what made you realise that.

One-shot (Cheating Heart) coming soon!

[theminecraftbee]

so I know I went one direction with “decked out eating tango” already but now I’m rotating the idea of. something a little different. something more like—tango’s been getting hungry, lately. it started in december, after zedaph ran the dungeon for the first time. something that clawed against the inside of his stomach. he could ignore it, then, but if he had to think, that’s when he started getting hungry.

but it’s gotten worse, and worse, and worse. scar keeps on dropping in and then throwing cookies at him. zedaph makes disapproving noises and forces him to go on picnics. one time, impulse dragged tango on a tour of all the food on the server. but the thing is, it’s not that he’s not eating? he’s missing some meals, sure, but every single hermit who calls him out for occasional missed meals is a hypocrite and they know it. if anything, though, when he remembers to eat, he’s eating more. he’s so hungry. he’s so hungry.

but he’s losing weight anyway. and he decides to ignore it. he doesn’t know what else to do. he sits down with xisuma quietly one day to make sure he gets more calories than normal, and then he ignores it. he keeps working. if something’s wrong, surely it can’t be that wrong. he’s just—cold. the tips of his fingers and ears are cold. and his stomach always hurts. and frankly, if he’s desperate to finish decked out, finally sets a date even though he doesn’t think it’s completely ready, well—

he’s not sure, exactly, actually. he just knows he needs the hermits to run it. and that after that, maybe he’ll find time to figure out why he’s had shaky hands and blurry vision and cold fingers for the past two months. why he’s been hungry for longer.

he has more cookies shoved at him by scar on opening day. he goes through them nervously. they don’t do anything for him, really, but they do momentarily make him feel better, and make it easier to pretend he doesn’t need to be mother-henned. (despite the jokes, he can take care of himself, and he does actually leave the cave, and he’s trying to figure out what else could be wrong so he doesn’t really want more well-meaning jokes about missing meals. he knows. he knows.)

he curls up above decked out, once scar starts his run. he takes a deep breath. he touches the wires, lets some part of his mind leave his body, and he watches scar run the dungeon.

a growl, from somewhere, rises deep in tango’s throat.

he watches scar lose. watches scar’s body fall to the ground at a ravager’s feet.

spend enough time amongst beasts and become one, he thinks, to whatever extent he is even capable of thinking in that moment. it’s not much, though. the amount of thinking he’s capable of, as his body moves practically without his input, is not much.

because tango suddenly knows exactly what he’s so hungry for.

[auggieblogs]

ugh, math!

Max Verstappen x reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by math exam anxiety, you were on the verge of despair. Max's comforting presence and soothing words were your saving grace.

Author's note: Oh my god, I absolutely love this prompt. Thank you so much, the anon who requested this. I really hope you enjoy this!

P.S.- I am not technically a woman in STEM so I don't know the struggles, but I have 12th grade math, and it is downright depressing for me. Again, I might have projected a little too much. Apologies in advance.

The weight of the upcoming math final pressed heavily on your shoulders, making your chest tight with anxiety. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the complex numbers and equations in your textbook. You deeply regretted taking this class, and an overwhelming sense of incompetence washed over you. You were about to give in to despair, convinced that you simply weren't smart enough for this. The more you tried to grasp the concepts, the more they seemed to slip through your fingers like sand.

Just when you thought you couldn't bear it any longer, the door opened, and Max walked into the room. His perceptive eyes immediately caught the distress etched on your face, and worry flashed across his features. Without hesitation, he rushed to your side, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Max asked softly, crouching down in front of you.

You looked up at him, your eyes brimming with tears, and it all became too much to bear. You broke down in front of him, your sobs escaping uncontrollably, your head buried in your trembling hands.

Max hated seeing you like this. He immediately wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, and kissing your forehead gently as he whispered soothing words. His fingers ran through your hair in slow, calming strokes, offering comfort and reassurance.

You hiccupped between sobs, words tumbling out in a rush. "I can't do this, Max. It's so difficult, and I feel like giving up. I'm not smart enough for this, I just can't."

Max held you even closer, his voice unwavering and reassuring. "Listen, bub, you are incredibly smart, and you're not a quitter. I know you can do this."

His words gave you a glimmer of encouragement. Sniffling and wiping away your tears, you took a deep breath and returned to your study materials. Max remained by your side, not entirely understanding the complex math, but his presence was a source of comfort.

As you worked through the complex equations, Max fetched your favourite chocolate milk and prepared your go-to comfort sandwich. He knew that a touch of familiar comfort would help you feel better. Between study sessions, he quizzed you on formulas and cheered you on with a smile and encouraging words.

Hours upon hours passed in intense studying, but Max's belief in you never wavered. He could see your fatigue setting in as the night wore on. Gently, he suggested, "You've been working so hard, love. Maybe it's time to get some rest."

Reluctantly, you agreed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling upon you. Max helped you tidy up your study materials and led you to the bedroom. He tucked you into bed, his fingers continuing to run soothingly through your hair.

"Try to relax," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "You've got this"

After a night of restful sleep, you woke up early, refreshed and determined. Max's encouraging words from the previous night echoed in your mind, reminding you of your own capabilities. With newfound confidence, you revisited your formulas and reviewed the key concepts, ensuring you were as prepared as possible.

As you entered the exam room, your heart still raced with anticipation, but there was a newfound sense of self-assuredness within you. The questions on the paper no longer seemed insurmountable; you tackled them with determination and clarity.

Hours passed by in a blur of focused effort, and when you finally submitted your exam, you felt a sense of accomplishment wash over you. The exam went remarkably well, and you couldn't help but smile as you left the room.

Outside, Max was waiting for you, a proud and supportive grin on his face. His mere presence brought an extra layer of warmth to your already joyful heart. He enveloped you in a hug.

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆｡˚𓆝⋆｡˚

The day the results were finally revealed was a day of both excitement and trepidation. Your heart raced as you logged into the exam portal, hoping beyond hope for a passing grade. As the page loaded, your eyes widened in disbelief, and a rush of pure elation surged through you – you hadn't just passed; you had aced the exam!

Unable to contain your excitement, you called Max immediately. His voice was filled with pride and joy as he exclaimed, "I knew you could do it, baby! I'm so incredibly proud of you!"

He couldn't wait to celebrate this incredible achievement with you. He suggested a celebratory dinner or date night. However, you were still feeling the exhaustion from your intense studying and the emotions of the past few days. You wanted nothing more than to stay in and unwind in the comfort of your own space.

Max decided to make the evening just as special at home. He ordered your favourite takeout, ensuring it was exactly what you were craving. He also brought home an assortment of your favourite ice cream flavours, knowing that dessert would be the perfect indulgence for this celebratory occasion.

As evening descended, you both snuggled on the couch, surrounded by pillows and blankets. The collection of your favourite movie, "The Princess Diaries," is played on the screen. Max's arm wrapped securely around you as he pulled you close, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. Laughter filled the air as you indulged in your ice cream, not caring about what was going on in the film but rather the ridiculous jokes Max was currently making.

With each passing minute, the exhaustion from the weeks of preparation began to catch up with you. Max noticed your eyelids growing heavy, and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you, content and peaceful in slumber. He gently brushed a strand of hair from your face and took a picture, capturing the moment .

maxverstappen1 posted on their story

[sonamytrash]

Nothing exciting

❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃

Tags: Levi x Reader, pregnancy, secret pregnancy, Fluff, Krista is a cutie.

❃°•°❀°•°❃•❃°•°❀°•°❃

The mess hall was a cacophony of clanging silverware and low conversations, the air thick with the scent of fried onions and meat. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Sasha, Connie, Jean, Ymir, Reiner, and Krista sat at their usual table, their eyes trained on you and Levi, who were sitting a few tables away. They had been watching you both ever since they had seen the scene at the stables, and now they couldn't help but wonder how long it had been going on for. The group had spent the better part of the last few days speculating about the nature of your relationship, with each member offering their own unique theories.

There was you, with your playful demeanor and unabashed affection. It was like a breath of fresh air in the otherwise stuffy environment. And Levi? Well, he was the strong, silent type; the rock upon which the survey corps relied.

The interactions between the two of you were fascinating to watch. Even the most casual of glances or gestures seemed to carry a weight of meaning that the others didn't quite understand. The way you both would sneak a touch or a quick brush of fingers against each other's arms as you passed one another, was enough to send the more observant scouts into a frenzy of speculation.

Sasha leaned in, her voice low but curious. "I wonder if they've been hiding this from us all this time," she mused. "They've always seemed so close, but I never would have guessed..." She trailed off, lost in thought.

As they continued to watch, Krista couldn't help but smile whenever she saw you both stealing a moment of privacy, or when Levi would blush and avert his gaze at one of your more forward advances. The air seemed charged with an electricity that was palpable even from across the room. Her curiosity getting the better of her, "Do you think they've been dating long?"

Reiner shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hard to say, really. They've always been pretty close. You remember, back when we first joined up? They were inseparable even then." He turned back to his meal. "It would be reasonable to assume they have been hiding it all this time."

Armin, who had been listening quietly to the conversation, piped up. "I heard they grew up together in the underground," he said, his tone thoughtful. "They must have some pretty deep history between them, and their reasons for keeping things quiet, it isn't unusual given the nature of this line of work for them to be cautious."

Mikasa couldn't help but wonder how you must feel during the times when the scouts were beyond the walls. It was one thing to be apart for a few days or weeks, but when the missions lasted for months at a time. The thought made her heart ache for you just a little.

Ymir decided to chime in with a suggestive joke. "There must be something about the miserable bastard that makes her like him. Maybe he's packing." she says suggestively, earning a few chuckles from the others. "You guys are at the stables this afternoon, right? You'll have to tell us if anything exciting happens." She adds, looking over at Krista and Armin.

The mess hall emptied out, and the scouts went about their business. Some to train, others to muck out the stables or tend to the horses.

You were in your element when you were around the horses. You had a way with them that was both gentle and firm, earning their trust and respect without fail. The soldiers looked up to you, admiring your knowledge and your dedication. You were strong, capable, and unapologetically yourself.

Which is why it seemed so unusual when Hange stopped by and told you to be careful around the horses, "Don't push yourself too hard and to make sure to gave the soldiers more work to do." Their words were softly spoken, meant only for you, but they carried weight nonetheless. Krista and Armin overhead the conversation and quickly averted their gaze, looking at one another with the same questionable look. Hearing you insist that you were fine and not to worry. It wasn't long before the captain himself made an appearance, walking straight over to you, his expression softening but still relaying something that only you seemed to understand as you sighed at him, leaving the stables.

After mucking out the stalls and exercising the horses, Krista was keen to hop into the showers. As she turned the corner, she let out a sigh of frustration as she approached the bathroom door, an out of order sign taped to it. Her heart sank. "Great," she muttered under her breath. The alternative facilities weren't as nice or warm as the main showers they would have to do. With a sigh, she decided to brave the less-frequented bathroom at the other wing end of the building.

As she approached the familiar bathroom door, she could hear muffled sounds coming from within. Curious, she placed her ear against the wood, and she heard someone retching violently, followed by the sound of someone vomiting into the toilet. She quickly knocked on the door. There was no reply, so she knocked again, a little harder this time. "Excuse me, are you okay in there?" She asked, concerned.

The sound of the door swinging open made her jump. Your face was pale and clammy, "Oh, hi Krista," your voice soft. "I didn't expect anyone else to be here. The water in here is always cold, you know that, right?" You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

Krista swallowed hard, her heart still racing. "Are you okay?" she asked concerned, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldnt help but notice that you were wearing your casual clothes, and the faint outline of a bump was visible beneath your shirt. Her eyes widened, the conversation between you and Hange at the stables, the captains attitude towards you still doing strenuous activities all made sense very quickly.

You smiled at her realisation, "Well, I'm not feeling my best right now, but I'll be fine." You paused, leaning against the door frame. "And I guess this means the cat is out of the bag." You chuckle to yourself.

"Look, Krista, there's something I need you to promise me." Your voice taking on a gentle but serious tone. "You can't tell anyone about this, you understand?" You gestured to your midsection, your fingers grazing the fabric of your shirt. "My uniform just about hides it for now, I know it won't be long before it's too obvious. But it would just be easier to keep things quiet for as long as possible. You know how it is around here, people talk." You explain.

Krista nodded. "I-I won't say anything, I promise." She bit her lip, feeling both honoured that you trusted her with the information, still completely shocked.

"Thank you, Krista." You reply relieved, "I don't know what I'm going to do. The survey corps isn't exactly known for its family-friendly policies." Your brow furrowed, and you ran a hand through your hair, tugging at the roots as you let out an exasperated sigh.

Krista nodded understandingly, not used to seeing you like this. Her usual passion began to shine through in an effort to be supportive and positive about the situation. A baby was surely a wonderful thing. "I'm sure there's got to be a way to make it work. You're a valuable member of the team. We need you here! and I'm sure Captain Levi will do whatever it takes to make it all work out to-" She bit her lip, hesitant before continuing, realising she had just assumed Levi was the father, confirming your previous comment about how people gossip around the headquarters. "It is Levi's, right?" She asked, blushing furiously, her voice barely above a whisper. Your face lit up, and you smiled at the mention of Levi's name as you let out a small giggle.

"Is it that obvious, huh?" You ask, slightly embarrassed that your relationship with the captain seems to have become common knowledge, you had both done such a good job of hiding it for so long. "That's one of the reasons I need you to keep it between us. You know how he is." You say, rolling your eyes playfully "He can be a real pain about our private life. Hange knowing makes him nervous enough." You chuckle.

Krista smiles sweetly and nods, "How did Captain Levi take it?" she finally asks, her voice curious, the question was burning in the back of her mind and she knew if she didn't ask now, she would never find out. The smaller details and intricacies of your relationship were fascinating to her. Having watched from afar all these months.

You hesitated for a moment, then smiled, it wasn't like you had been able to share this news with many people. "He was... surprised, at first," you chuckled. "But once he got over the shock, he was actually really happy. He's been so supportive, you know? I know he doesn't come accross as the fatherly type, but I know... I know he'll be a great dad." You said affectionately, resting a hand on your small bump. Krista smiled brightly, reaching out to take your other hand and squeezing it lightly.

"Congratulations, that's amazing, really! And a little scary, too, I imagine." She said thoughtfully. "But when you're ready, everyone will support you. Of that I'm certain." She said in an effort to reassure you. You smiled at her "Thank you, Kris. I appreciate it."

The next morning, as the group walked past the stables, Krista saw you sat down, leaving the more strenuous tasks to the cadets, Levi by your side drinking tea quietly, keeping an eye on you no doubt. You smiled sweetly as your eyes met hers, and you gave her a knowing wink. She smiled back at you, Ymir raised an eyebrow. "What was that about?" Krista shook her head, "Nothing exciting."

[luveline]

hey jade!! i love kisses before dinner and was wondering (if you like the idea) maybe you could write something about avery realising how scary giving birth can be and starts worry about it before the new baby arrives? <3<3<3

thank you for your request! kisses before dinner —mom!you and dad!steve comfort avery when she has concerns for your health. fem!reader, 3k

cw discussed maternal mortality and death

Steve Harrington looks out over the kitchen table that night with a great sense of success. You're sitting at the other end with Dove on your knee, feeding her bites of macaroni cheese between feigned spoonfuls given to her rainbow teddy bear. Bethie sits to his left eating without complaint (a victory considering her pickiness). Avery sits to his right, trying to pour her own glass from the juice jug. It's awesome. 

Steve quickly swallows the drink he'd been sipping on and offers to help her, hand extended, "Here. I got it."

"I can do it," Avery insists, her long arms shaking under the weight. 

He doesn't mind her being independent, nor her improving capabilities, but the last thing he wants to do tonight is clean up a huge juice spill. Steve takes the juice gently and refills her plastic cup. 

"Dad," she whines. 

"Avery," he whines back. 

She huffs and grabs her fork, ignoring her fresh cup of juice to shovel in bites of broccoli and macaroni instead. 

"I think I'm done," Bethie says. Steve must have jinxed it. 

He attempts to do the impossible —convince Bethie to finish dinner. He takes up station by the side of her chair, having tried everything now, and only this works. 

"Beth," he says, putting his hand behind her back, "Are you sure there's no room left? I don't want you to be hungry again before we go to bed 'cos you won't tell me, will you?" 

"I'm full," she insists, reaching for her drink bottle. 

"Is there something wrong with it?" he asks, rubbing up and down her back.

"No, daddy, it's nice," she says. She isn't quite convincing, but she tries. 

Steve looks at her. She looks like Steve sometimes, like neither of you other times, but mostly he looks at her and he sees you. Your smile, your frown, Bethie's tell is the same as yours when she lies. Steve can read you both like a book. 

"Is it cold?" he asks, sticking his pinky finger in the corner of her macaroni. "A little. If I heat it back up for you, would that make it better?" 

"No, please," she says. 

He sighs. "Make you something else? Sandwiches?" 

"I'm not hungry, daddy." 

Steve plasters a smile over his worries and kisses her cheek. "Okie smokie. Well done, honey, you ate lots and lots. Let's try even more for breakfast, yeah?" 

"Yes!" she agrees, sliding off of her chair.

"Where are you going?" he asks. 

"Need to pee!" she yells, running to the stairs. She opens the baby gate (which she’s known how to do for too many years, way before supposed to know how to —thanks so much, Avery) and Steve listens to her sprint up the stairs with a wince. 

"Call me if you need help!" he yells after her. 

"Okay!" 

"You think that's why she didn't want to eat?" you ask, wiping the corners of Dove's mouth with her bib. 

Steve stands up and stretches his arms behind his head. "I don't know," he says, rolling his neck around in a circle. 

"Is it gross if I eat her leftovers?" you ask. 

"I'll make you another pot, if you want it," Steve offers, arms dropping down to his side. He's been trying to get back into shape lately. It's not working out. "You having cravings?" 

"I'm just hungry all the time," you say, your voice melding into a sing song as you finish wiping Dove's face. "All done! Good girl, Dovey! You're my good girl." You plaster her forehead with a layer of kisses before putting her down on the floor. She wobbles, hands on your thighs. "Okay? You want another drink?"

"Dotty Dolly," she says, taking your hand. "Please. Please, Dolly."

"Yeah, my love. I'm coming." You groan as you stand up, not quite pregnant enough to worry about popping soon but more than enough to feel exhaustion to the marrow. 

"Just me and you then," Steve says to Avery, tucking in chairs and piling plates at the table. 

"Me and you, sir," she agrees in a funny voice. 

"Still mad at me?" 

She remembers to glare at him. "Yes!" She takes another bite of macaroni. "Okay, no." 

"If you're not gonna chew with your mouth closed, put your hand over your mouth. I don't wanna see your chewed up dinner." Avery pokes her tongue out, laughing when Steve says, "Ewww." 

He sets the leftovers aside for you rather than waste Bethie's largely untouched pasta in the trash, stacking the dishes in the sink and wetting a cloth to wipe down the table. He cleans around Avery, squeezing her neck, shoulders and arms to make her squirm as he goes.

"You want seconds?" he asks, returning to the sink. 

"I want dessert." 

"Good idea. You know Mom's so pregnant all she does lately is wake me up for ice cream."

"She wakes you up?" Avery asks. 

"By accident trying to put her socks on at the end of the bed. Baby's getting too big now, she can't see her toes." 

"It's a good thing she has you, dad."

"Yeah, but you'd help mommy, wouldn't you? Help her put her shoes on if she couldn't reach?" 

Avery hops off of her chair and passes him her plate, completely clean of food. She grows like a bamboo shoot and eats like a rabid dog. He loves it. She's evidence that he's a good cook. 

"Thank you. What did you want for dessert?" he asks. 

"I have something to ask you." 

"Oh." Steve hates the sound of that, theorising that she wants a new something or other he'll have to say no to. He grabs her by the waist, wet hands and all, hoisting her up onto the counter by the dish rack. He puts a rag in her hands. "You dry and I'll answer." 

"It's a weird question," Avery warns.   

"Avery, you wouldn't believe how weird some of the questions I've asked are. Don't worry about it." 

He scrunches dirty water out of the dish sponge and squirts soap onto a dirty plate. The hot water burns his fingertips. Avery dries a plastic plate diligently, her question coming out slow as running wax. 

"Mom's gonna be okay, right?" she asks quietly. 

Steve fights to keep his eyebrows down. They bob anyways. "Okay from what?" 

"When she has the baby. She's not going to get hurt?" 

"Well, having a baby really hurts. But there's medicine for her to take, and I'll be there to hold her hand." 

"No," Avery says, frowning, "that's not…" 

"Sorry, Ave. Ask me again, try a different word." 

She puts the dried plate down to her left and picks another to dry. "Will mom die?" 

"No," he says. Doesn't miss a beat, though his pulse capers. He knows that childbirth is hard, that lots of things can go wrong, but if he truly thought you might die he wouldn't have asked for another baby. And even if he did think it were going to happen, it's not a thought Avery needs to have. "She won't die, I promise you. Where'd you get that idea, honey?" 

"Jordan's mom died having a baby." 

Steve nods and tries to recalibrate the conversation. He knew of Jordan's mom passing away, he made a couple of trays of food for Jordan's dad and put money in the collection plate for her memorial, but he didn't know Avery knew precisely how it happened. 

"Right, she did," he says gently. "And that's scary, huh?" 

"Why can't it happen to mommy if it happened to her?" Avery asks. 

Steve shuts off the water. Hand still wet, he rubs his forehead roughly. "Can I have that?" he asks Avery, gesturing for the dish cloth. She gives it to him, putting down her last plate, and Steve wipes his fingers dry to pick her up without getting her wet a second time. 

"Let's have a talk," he says, tilting his head to the side. He sees his eyes looking back at him, smaller and softer, longer lashes but the same honeyed brown. "Me, you, and mommy. Okay?" 

"Dad," she says, startled. 

"It's okay, It'll be better if you talk to mom, too, because it's mom that's already had babies, not me. I think I know everything because my brain is so big and stuff, but I can't tell you what your mom is thinking." 

"I don't want mommy to get upset," she says. 

It's partially his fault for asking her to tell him if there's a problem rather than you a few weeks ago. He didn't want you walking up and down the stairs unnecessarily, and your blood pressure is something they've been keeping an eye on. He didn't mean for Avery to bottle things up. Every time Steve thinks he's doing something right it finds a way to bite him in the ass. 

"I meant if Bethie's turned the faucet on and flooded the bathroom, or if you want to change your bed or something, not that you can't ask her things that are worrying you," he says, readjusting her weight. Her knees dig into his sides as he carries her to the living room doorway from the kitchen. 

"Hey, mom?" he asks. 

Your head jumps up. You're sitting on the edge of the couch with Dove's face in your knee, a dribble patch dampening your pants. Bethie has her hand in yours sitting next to you. You're still in your work clothes, your bump straining against everything now, but yet to drop. He'll have to wash your pants tonight. 

"Hey?" you say, a guilty smile tugging up your pretty mouth. "I'm coming to do the dishes, I swear. My girls caught me in their net." 

"Can we talk to you? For a minute," Steve says. 

Your eyes widen. You stand up with a funny noise like someone's stepped on your toes, lifting Dove by the armpits to sit next to Bethie. You kiss the girls goodbye and they're too distracted by Dotty Dolly playing on the TV to mind. 

"What's wrong?" you ask, following Steve back into the kitchen. 

"Want me to explain?" Steve asks Avery. She nods. "Avery's a little worried about you." 

"About me?" You put your hands under your face and beam at her. "What's worrying you? I've never been better." 

"She's worried about when you have the baby." 

"'Cos of Jordan's mom," Avery whispers. 

You hear it despite her small voice, your smile sobering. "I see… I see. You know… you're a big girl, Avery. You're my big girl, and I wish I could keep you this young forever sometimes, but I know that you know that people don't get to stay with us forever, so I don't want to scare you, but I'll tell you what I think, yeah?" 

Avery swallows around nothing. 

Steve gives her back a sympathetic pat. "It's okay," he says to her, enthusing his voice with some pep to calm her down. 

"Jordan's mommy was sick when she passed away," you say, your hand resting on your bump now, inching closer to Steve and Avery where they've paused under the kitchen light. "She knew things were going to be hard. When you have a baby, you know things won't be easy, but it's not fair. It's very sad. She," —you look at Steve with a parent familiar fear that says, Am I saying the right things?— "said goodbye before anyone wanted her too, but Avery." Steve knows what you're going to say. It's a promise he made only minutes ago, one that you have no control over keeping, but a necessary one nonetheless to make. You could very well have complications down the line, things could spin out of control, but Avery doesn't need the stress of that hanging over her. "I promise you here and now that I'm not going anywhere. Daddy won't let me." 

He laughs a little breathlessly. "Damn straight." 

"But daddy isn't a doctor," Avery says, holding out her arm. 

You walk into Avery's reach, letting her climb from Steve's arms to yours without complaint. "He didn't have time to be a doctor, he was too busy being the best dad ever." 

"Are you flirting with me?" Steve asks. 

"Duh, Stevie." You turn your attention to Avery, struggling to hold her and stroke a hair from her face. "Don't worry about me. Promise me you won't, Ave." 

"I just don't want you to go away," Avery says with a frown. 

Steve feels an unexpected heat behind his eyes. You smile softly, your thumb on Avery's cheek. "Then I won't. I'll stay. I can't go anywhere without you, gorgeous." 

Steve strokes the back of Avery's head. "And I can't be without either of you, so mom doesn't have a choice." 

He wishes things were that simple. Steve has no idea what the future holds, but he chooses to believe it'll be a good one, where every one of his girls gets to grow old. But the future isn't something he can predict nor change by wishing alone. 

"Did that make much sense to you, sweetheart?" you ask Avery.

"It makes sense. Sorry." 

You and Steve make twin sounds of loving disbelief. 

"Sorry for what?" you ask, as Steve says, "No, God, don't be sorry!" 

"It's okay to ask me stuff," you say.

"That's what we're here for." 

Avery wraps her arms around your neck. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she whispers, near imperceptibly, Steve's ears straining to hear her under the sounds of the water heater and the television. 

"I'm sure. I've done it three times already."

"Are you scared?" 

You shake your head resolutely. "No. You know why?" 

"Why?" 

"'Cos I know, at the end of it I might get another little girl who's just like you. Or like Beth, or Dove. Maybe I'll get one who's nothing like any of you, but I know with such a great big sister she's going to be amazing." 

Avery rests her cheek on your shoulder. "You think so?" 

"I know so." 

"Thank you," she says. 

You laugh again. "For what?" you ask, nails raking up and down the length of her back. "Only telling you what's true. Me and daddy think you're the bestest." 

Steve rubs his face with both hands rather than cry. Crying makes his eyes sore and he has to wake up at six AM tomorrow to take the girls to swimming lessons at seven thirty. (He also doesn't want Avery to see him crying and get the wrong idea, what with the previous conversation.) 

"Mom?" Bethie asks in the doorway. 

"Yes?" you murmur, resting your head atop Avery's gently. 

"Excuse me." 

You laugh a charmed laugh and scoot out of the way, resting your weight on the door jam. Bethie looks incredibly small idling at his feet, even though Dove is much smaller. She smiles nervously. 

"Daddy?" 

"Yes?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He pretends to be nonchalant, while inside he's thinking about lots of things. Avery's huge heart and all her worries. Bethie's emerging cheekiness after years of quiet. Dove's roaring giggle when you squeeze her just right. And you, your bump, your devotion to him and the girls, but more than that —your voice and how you talk with all the good you possess. How you're talking now to Avery in dulcet tones. 

Bethie takes his hand. "Can I have the rest of my mac and cheese, please?" 

"Yeah, babe. Unless you want dessert instead?" 

His hand sways in her grip. "I want mac and cheese if that's okay." 

Steve picks her up with a typical dad groan. He'll check on Dove first, but he has no qualms with warming her mac and cheese. He'd offer to make you another helping if you weren't distracted entirely, nose bridge nuzzling into Avery's neck. 

He doesn't know what the future holds, but he hopes for more of this. 

[blingblong55]

The sun and moon-Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

Okay, but I was on TikTok and you’re the only blog I know who really likes Makarov besides me and 🙈😭😫🥰🙈 if you know the audio, that goes like 🎶 me and the devil… walking side by side 🎵 it made me think of him and reader and just, like… idk. Becoming his queen and I just love the idea of him seeing all this (whether he saw it from the beginning or noticed it after a while/before anyone else) potential in you that no one else seemed to, and fosters that in you, making you two a power couple in your little dynasty. He may do the dirty work and have blood on his hands, but you’re just trying to do good and make the world a better place again, even if it’s by any means necessary. Idk. Maybe it’s also bc I also just love hades & persephone sm too and it also gives me the grumpy & sunshine trope as well in a way too but I thought I’d share bc I’ve been loving this thought so much 🥰😭🥰🙈 ---- F!reader, romance/fluff, established!relationship ----

A/N: making this honestly lets me be a little more creative so thank you! I just couldn't stop writing and I think this will be the best I've ever done

Russia is a place known to be cold, and really, for him this is what life is like. For you, on a different side of the world, it's more calm and beautiful.

In the world of cruelty, there exists a power couple like no other. Vladimir Makarov, feared and revered, walks the path of darkness, his hands stained with the blood of many. Yet, beside him stands y/n, his love, the queen of his heart and his guiding light. Together, they forge a new destiny, a dynasty built on strength.

He is a titan among men, commands armies with a flick of his wrist and leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. To stand in front of him, it so is in the presence of death itself yet, there is one who walks beside him, a figure shrouded in mystery and clocked in the endgame of your own making.

Y/n, they call you, a name whispered in hushed tones by those who have glimpsed her fleeting presence. To some, you're a beacon of hope, a flicker of light in the darkness, your mere presence enough to quell the storm raging within Makarov's soul. But who are you, his angel, who holds the heart of the most feared man in the world? Some say you're his queen, his equal in every way, gaze as steely as his own, resolve unshakable in the face of adversity. Others whisper of a love born from the depths of despair, forged in the fires of war, a bond that transcends time and space.

As the world trembles beneath the weight of their combined might, one thing remains certain: where there is Vladimir Makarov, there too shall be y/n, walking side by side, their destinies entwined in a dance of darkness and light, love and war.

Amid chaos and carnage that define their existence, Makarov sits by a window, looking out to the gardens. In the hazy corridors of his mind, he recalls the first time he laid eyes on you, a glimpse of beauty amidst the ugliness of war. "What's her name?" He asks one of his men. You stood before him, gaze unwavering, spirit unbroken. "Y/n, daughter of-" "go away," he says sternly and walks up to you. "As beautiful as day, Y/N," he takes your hand and kisses it. "Who are you?" Oh, that soft voice of yours that melts his cold heart. "Vladimir but you can call me Vovo," his accent rich and smooth.

There is something about you that sets you apart from the rest, that ignited a spark of curiosity within him.

"Makarov, war is on," a man walked into the room. "If you must excuse me dear, I have some…stuff to do," he walks out of the room as if it's just another typical day for him.

Days passed, and you were told to stay indoors since you didn't seem capable of winning a war, much less fighting one. And with one knock on the door, he walks inside, interrupting your train of thought. "C'mon, I'm not letting your beauty rot in this room," he says, extending his hand and you take it without doubt. "Where are we to go?" you ask.

"To battle my dear, but you'll stick beside me," he mentions, guiding you through the dark corridors.

And as he is called back to attention, the beautiful memory fades. As it fades and the present comes crashing back, Makarov is left with a sense of longing, a yearning for a time when the world was simpler, when he and you were just two souls bound together by fate. And though the scars of war may never heal, he takes solace in the knowledge that no matter what the future may hold, he will always have you by his side.

As the years go by, you two navigate the treacherous landscape of warfare. Where his iron fist strikes, you are the steady hand that holds the light for him to come back home.

You've learned a lot from him, from fighting to learning that not all his wrongs are from pure hate and cruelty.

It's a waltz, a dangerous, blood-driven waltz.

In the middle of all the turmoil in their line of work, there are moments of intimacy between you two, moments when they cast aside the weight of their burdens and simply exist in each other's presence. In those fleeting moments, they are not leaders of armies or the rulers of wars but two souls bound together by an unbreakable bond of love and devotion.

And though the world trembles at the sound of your names, Makarov and Y/N stand unwavering, their hearts intertwined in a dance of passion and desire. For in each other, they have found solace in a world consumed by chaos, a beacon of light in the darkness that surrounds them.

"Vovo?" you say comfortably in his arms. "Любимая?" (darling) "Will there be a day where this will end?" "Yes, but until then, I'll just keep holding you close," his warm lips meet your forehead.

They've said before that Makarov reigns as a formidable figure, feared and respected by all who cross his path. His domain is a world of shadows and chaos, where darkness reigns supreme and few dare to tread. You, you're a vision of beauty and grace that was consumed by war.

As yet another storm is to come, you and him stand together. "Don't ever leave me, okay?" he pleas. "Like I ever was," you smile.

In the shadows, he lurks and in the sun, you dance. No evil, no war and no man can separate you from the other.

It's beautiful, how you can be so opposite. Vladimir was midnight and you were sunshine. He preferred a dark room and a sunroom. Dark clothes covered him and you with warm and beautiful colours. It's a peculiar kind of love and it's warm. Loving the devil, loving an angel. The same story is told just like Hades and Persephone.

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[gatitties]

Rumors

─ Tenjiku x fem!reader

─ Summary: certain rumors about a powerful girl lead Tenjiku to you

─ Warnings: description of unpleasant ways to die

Part two / Part three / Part four

"I'm telling you again, you have the wrong person…"

You murmured to some boys that had cornered you before you could leave through the great doors of your high school, the head of that small group looked at you, fed up with you denying being who people said.

"Don't be stupid! There is no one else that matches your name."

You groaned in disgust when you noticed his growing anger, you didn't want to waste your valuable free time, you frowned making the hardest look you could, your dark circles dimmed your eyes and you gave one last blank look at the 'leader' of the group. The atmosphere around you intensified, as if it were suffocating, as if you were capable of breaking the necks of these five guys with one move.

The legs of the teenagers began to shake from the personality change, your sinister face and your iron gaze were enough to scare them away, although they said they would come back to kick your ass, you and your so-called gang.

"My God, what's up lately with all the jerks looking for a fight?"

You really didn't understand shit, as far as you knew, this last month there were several groups of people asking about you, they wanted to fight you because apparently you had a powerful gang and your name started to spread like wildfire, you heard nonsense like you had defeated a group of twenty men without ruffling your hair, even while filing your nails.

You? fighting? Do you even want to socialize a bit? If beating people up counts as socializing of course, you had nothing to do with those things anyway, the only struggles you had were with your math problems and if that subject was a person it would have kicked your ass not vice versa.

You had to ask a few people from your class, some who were more or less trustworthy and not swayed by those rumors, yes, rumors about you, not that you paid much attention to them but man, painting you as something inhuman that would be able to dismounting people twice your size with one punch was a bit over the top, wasn't it?

It's not that you looked cute or flirty, that was the main cause of the rumors starting, okay you admit it, you don't have the best fashion sense and maybe you dress a little darker than the others, maybe what sparked the rumors was your impassive demeanor, and your shitty face, because you didn't like to get up early, who does anyway? You just get to class and everyone is greeting each other with smiles on a Monday at seven in the morning, shut the fuck up, you want to sleep.

Looking back, yeah, maybe it was a bit because of your behavior, another reason that you thought would be of weight was your honesty, harsh honesty, you didn't like to beat around the bush and you went straight to the point of the issues, maybe that made your classmates see you as intimidating, geez, if they knew you cry over strangers' stories on the internet every time you open Twitter… Maybe some people were even intimidated by your height? Not that you were a building, but considering the average height of the girls, you were a bit above that.

The truth is that you had to agree with some of the rumors, you are creepy as fuck, not only sometimes because of your disheveled appearance, but also because of some of your comments, you could make very accurate descriptions of painful or disturbing deaths if is that the situation made you think of ways to die doing something everyday. Well, it's not your fault that you're a fan of crime shows, serial killers, etc.

"I hope we're not wasting time with this."

"Calm down Shion, it's not like we have anything to do, we're all here for a reason."

Izana commented as he looked at the others, Tenjiku had gathered because Kisaki had been hearing those rumors, your rumors, they were looking for strong people and if you had what they were looking for you were definitely joining the group.

"Whatever, he could have at least brought his pathetic ass here too…"

"Nu-uh, I needed Sanzu, Mucho and him to do something for me, anyway, I think we're here now."

You were half asleep at recess, getting some rest from another night of tossing and turning, otome games were messing with your sleep schedule. You almost fell asleep if not for a slight jolt, you groaned but opened your eyes finding yourself face to face with lavender eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul, your mind assimilated everything quickly when you saw how they were dressed together, also noticing the others behind of the boy.

They didn't even ask for your name when you put your hands to your head, letting out a cry of despair because you already knew what they had come for.

“I swear to god, I don't have a gang and I can't take down twenty men with one punch."

"Well, most people don't think the same as you."

Ran spoke, balancing his weapon against his palm, smiling sadistically at how you trembled a little. You know that intimidating feeling, when you know someone is angry and they seem like they're invincible? That same pressure the boys felt when you got up from your seat, although it was only a defense mechanism when you were scared.

"Just leave me alone, I don't want or am interested in fighting, I don't care what you think I am."

Apparently the trick of looking intimidating didn't help, the guy with a scar on his forehead that reached down to one of his eyes approached threateningly, grabbing your shirt to lift you into the air. You screamed internally from the looks you were getting from everyone, normally the idiots who came to confront you would get scared ─luckily─ and you didn't have to run away, but it was clear that these guys weren't weaklings like all the others.

Since silent intimidation didn't help, it might help to use your twisted mind, hopefully you might scare them off.

"I would like to lock you in a coffin alive, bury you three meters underground, wait for you to die slowly, gradually running out of oxygen, when your mind fades your bodies will rot, I will dig the bodies up and feed them to the Insects more disgusting than you can imagine."

"What the hell-"

Rin looked at you with a grimace seeing how you didn't blink once in your little monologue, Kakucho's grip loosened a bit, lowering you back to the ground but keeping you where you were. You started to sweat, without letting them recriminate you, you started to talk again.

"If you don't like that death, I can also sedate you, empty all your bodies, without intestines, while you slowly watch each other as you die little by little, I will do it slowly playing with your livers, making your intestines into scarves, I will burn you and I will feed you to pigs."

Kokonoi and Mochizuki looked at each other in silence with disgust clear on their faces, Kakucho had let go of you taking a step back to Izana's side. Hanma had a small crooked smile, it was his turn to approach you, patting your shoulder.

"What creepy things you say to be a scared cat."

Well, shit, your words hadn't sounded with the usual impassive enough tone or your nervousness had been detected by this damned matchstick. You shrank into your site, feeling smaller next to him, you raised your hands in defeat.

“Non-verbal and verbal intimidation don't work, okay, I give up, but I guess you know that that shit was just rumors."

Everyone was stunned at the guffaw Izana let out after that, he normally kept that serious tone when he was in a group, he usually only let that side out when he was alone with Kakucho, but oh boy, you were too much.

“Look at you, trying to intimidate us while you were all scared! You know, if you'd made it clear, we would have left, but you're so funny."

"What? If you're saying that you're a bad liar, I could see how you wanted to beat me up."

"Oh of course not, I would never hit a girl-"

"Yes, you should break a leg for lying so bad."

You gave your typical blank face, much more relaxed than before, but still a bit uncomfortable with all the attention you were getting, not to mention someone still with their arm around your shoulders.

"Hey, matchstick, personal space."

It was the turn of the Haitani brothers to laugh at the nickname you had given Hanma, he turned away with an offended look, but you didn't care, looking at the brothers, without a doubt their laughter bothered you because they were the ones that scared you the most.

"I don't know what's so funny, eh, Bert and Ernie?"

Kokonoi bit his tongue to keep from laughing, thinking that if he did, he would be the next person to be attacked by your big mouth, however Izana spoke again.

"You go from completely shaking and trying to be brave to messing with us? Every time you surprise me more."

"Nah, I'm just being honest now that I know you won't break my legs, I'm not making fun of you, I'm just objectively saying what you look like."

Now they all fell silent looking at you, feeling as if you were criticizing them with a simple look, imagining characters similar to them to make fun of.

"Wait, does that mean that you associate us all with something or someone?" you hummed affirmatively at Mochizuki's question "can we know-"

"You look like an onigiri if you put yourself completely in front."

"What about me?"

Madarame watched expectantly as you narrowed your eyes at him, analyzing his stance, oh, you definitely knew what he was.

"Gay."

"Wha- THAT'S NOT EVEN AN OBJECT OR PERSON!"

"Are you saying that gays are not people? Pretty disrespectful of you."

"IT'S NOT THE POINT!" he complained for a few minutes like Mochi for their comparison, he looked at you again, pointing to the remaining three; Koko, Izana and Kakucho "What about them? What stupid thing are they?"

"Mmh…" you rubbed your index finger and thumb on your chin, thinking deeply, looking at the three boys "They are just handsome."

"Nah, this bitch is not being serious-"

Hanma prevented the blonde from hitting you for your comparisons, despite also being insulted, the scene was quite funny for him. Ignoring the little spat everyone started to have, deciding you'd had too much human contact for today, you packed up your stuff to leave, only someone stopped you before you left.

"Take this please, let's talk later!"

You blinked at the piece of paper Izana had given you, it was his phone number, you shrugged, you liked the internet contact better anyway, you took one last look at the group before disappearing, briefly greeting Kakucho, who went with the only one you caught eyes with, completely ignoring how his cheeks had some rosy tinge.

"Someone had a crush?"

"Shut up Ran."

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part fifteen

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

-

Angeal has never been quite as aware of the exact dimensions of the Buster Sword as he is now, heading up to Lazard's office. Though the weight has become almost a part of him, a comforting presence on his back, it feels like… more.

He'd not quite resigned himself to possessing and carrying a sword he couldn't really use - it was just something that… was. It was a legacy of sorts, and there was nothing all that burdensome about it. But it still was a fact - the Buster Sword was one of a kind, and even studying the records of Sephiroth's masterful swordplay would never help him manage it. There was no one and nothing that could teach him how to use something that was, most likely, designed to be nigh unusable.

But apparently Sephiroth himself could.

"No," the man had said after half an hour of doing things with the sword Angeal never could've figured out on his own. "You can't fight with it like with a more reasonably-sized sword. But you can fight with it. Question is… do you want to?"

Does he want to, huh.

"Come in" Lazard calls at his knock, and Angeal steps into the man's office. "Angeal, good. Want to explain the rumours of Genesis' chasing Seconds out of floor 49?"

Angeal clears his throat, smiling a little. "Well. We didn't wreck the training room this time?" he offers, taking the chair in front of Lazard's desk and flipping it backward.

"You three were banned from using it for a reason," Lazard points out flatly.

"And yet we were asked to assess Sephiroth's capabilities. Hard thing to do, without fighting him," Angeal says and sits down, straddling the backrest between his knees and sighing. "Not that there was much of a fight."

Lazard's expression darkens. "So his abilities took a hit."

"Worse," Angeal admits. "He stopped holding back. At all."

"... He'd been holding back?"

"All his life, I expect," Angeal admits. "For… understandable reasons, considering his upbringing. Whatever personal reasons Sephiroth had to hide the full extent of his abilities, he's forgotten them."

"Hmm," Lazard hums, watching him closely. "And yet he didn't trash the training room, again?"

"No, just our confidence," Angeal laughs ruefully and shakes his head. "Sephiroth just spent two hours schooling us in the basics of swordsmanship. Literally - he gave us a tutoring session."

Lazard blinks and then leans back. "Well," he says, sounding surprised. "That's certainly…"

"Out of character?" Angeal asks with an arched brow. "You have no idea. When Genesis told me his memory had taken a hit, I was expecting him to show the usual signs. Confusion, reticiece, defensiveness, antisociality… and he did, to some extent. But nothing like I was expecting - and then we got to the training room, and it was like a switch was flicked."

"Memory recalled?" Lazard muses.

"Maybe. Mostly I think it was just that he found something he knew, really knew, in his bones," Angeal says. "He might've forgotten who knows how much about his life - but not how to fight. And since he's lost whatever motivation he had for holding back… it looks a lot like he just got a lot better."

Lazard hums. "And that might be a problem," he concluded darkly. "Should people take the wrong idea from it."

"Oh yeah," Angeal agrees.

"Where is Sephiroth now?"

"Genesis took him out of the building - they're going clothes shopping."

"... Genesis and Sephiroth?"

Angeal grins. "Sephiroth has become aware that his coat doesn't fit comfortably," he explains. "And Genesis knows the best tailor in the city, apparently."

"If it's the same one I use, he does," Lazard says, fiddling with his cuff and then leaning back. "Alright, so we don't have to worry about Sephiroth not being fit to fight. Just the… implications and rumours of his current status. Maybe a solo mission to get him started…"

Angeal grimaces. "I don't know if leaving him to his own devices is the right call here," he says.

"He's always been a solo fighter," Lazard comments.

"To no one's benefit. And he's lost a lot of memories."

Lazard concedes the point there with a sigh. "Well, you and Genesis have known him longer than I. I bow to your superior insight. How do you suggest we proceed?"

"A joint mission, something simple, monster extermination in the slums, maybe. There's never a shortage of that," Angeal says. "Sephiroth with Genesis or myself. Depending on how that goes… well, Genesis suggested throwing a bunch of Seconds at Sephiroth."

The director looks up. "... How do you mean?"

"Students, cadets, a squad. Whatever," Angeal explains, folding his arms. "Someone to teach. And I have to say I agree. Sephiroth seemed to really enjoy schooling us, and he seemed the most like himself when he was doing it."

Plus, Angeal knows from experience that teaching is the best way to learn, really. That's how he'd risen in ranks just ahead of Genesis - because the Thirds and the other Seconds kept asking him for pointers. Nothing quite like having someone relying on you to make you rise to the occasion, is there?

"He's never offered to lead a squad," Lazard points out.

"And there were probably reasons for that," Angeal agrees. "Whether he remembers those reasons anymore is a different question. It's worth consideration."

"But don't you think that will just make the rumours worse?" Lazard asks, leaning forward again and steepling his hands. "Making him interact with other members of SOLDIER?"

Angeal shrugs. "Sephiroth's different now," he says. "And with all due respect, I don't think that's something we can hide long term. Thankfully, not a lot of people know him that well," he mutters and then adds, "It would be a great thing for the SOLDIER program, if Sephiroth taught even one personal student. He is, after all, the best of us."

He's not quite as bitter about it as Genesis, but… seeing Sephiroth use the Buster Sword like he'd been doing it for years almost made him cry. So there's that.

Lazard draws a slow breath and then exhales. "I'll get you your monster extermination in the slums, after Sephiroth's leave ends," he says and turns to his computer. "We'll discuss the rest after."

"That works. Thank you, director," Angeal says and stands up.

Lazard nods and then asks, "How is he? What's your honest opinion?"

It's a little too soon to say, but there's only one answer, really. "He'll be fine," Angeal promises and turns to leave.

Sephiroth would be fine. They'd make sure of it.

[naffeclipse]

Hi, hi! I'm sure you are totally unaware of me going through your blog just now XD

But! I saw a bit of Humpback Y/N and I can't stop thinking about the small drabble you wrote way back! (Can't find it unfortunately, or don't know the specific tag to look for it hkfdg) But it was the one about how their relationship would advance and by the end of it y/n gets stuck on top of some thick ice. And it's so incredibly dangerous for someone the size of y/n for that to happen to of course! And I remember they were trapped up there for a good while, which weakened them considerably, even if they don't quite get to the actual size of a humpback whale. And I seem to recall that when Eclipse finds them they hear him teasing them for their situation (or perceive it that way at least), but they have no energy so they don't answer him at all.

And aaa I just can't stop thinking about that specific moment, because from Eclipse's perspective that must have rang every single alarm bell. This mer, who has been antagonizing him since they met, able to keep up with him in both snark and their little competition, who has grown on him so much and become a constant, physically capable of manhandling him and pettily blocking him from getting to his prey easily, who is large and majestic and physically imposing, and has always given him a challenge, they are now still and worryingly quite, still moving but having none of their usual spark, their energy, and suddenly he might realize that they've been there much longer that he perhaps thought, that time is ticking and they are weakening by the second. And then he breaks the ice and catches them, just as they are passing out!

And aaa I can't help but be curious of what happens next! Because god, if they're passed out he'd have to make sure they can remain breathing, but also try and check them to make sure they haven't been too damaged by having to support their own weight for so long, that they will be able to swim on their own when they wake. And if they need healing before they can move well again, likely he'd have to help them get food, at least until they can get back to their pod.

Would he try to stubbornly take care of them himself? Or when they seem well enough take them to their pod who can more easily take care of them the rest of the way, which might be for the best since they are so big? Aaaaa lots of questions! But I live for that hurt comfort haha XD

Anyways yes, just wanted to ramble a little about this two, because that last scene sure gave me a lot of feels gfkjhkhjds

I love each and every notif, babe <3

Ah, yes! It flips in Eclipse's head from playfully 'maybe they might need help' to 'oh no' the second they don't respond as they should, as they have during their time battling back and forth! He's immediately on it. When they do sink into his arms through the broken ice, he pulls them quickly to the open ocean and cradles their head on his chest, floating to let them breathe and rest. Y/N is okay, but they are exhausted and need a moment or two to regain their strength before swimming on their own again.

Eclipse doesn't want anyone to take Y/N from him when he needs to make sure they're okay, so he cares for them by himself, without alerting their pod. It would be wiser to let sirens their size attempt to keep them afloat while they rest but Eclipse is nothing if not determined (and a little frightened by finding his lovely, strong siren in such a weakened state).

Ahh, I'm glad you enjoy these two! <3

[varpusvaras]

Fox had dreamed about running in the forest many times.

The first dream he had ever had about towering trees and soft paths under his feet had been back on Kamino. He was pretty sure that it had been right after they had started their classes on different terrains, and something about forests and their green and earthy tones must've stuck into Fox's brain. He had dreamed about the sandy ground, the branches creating canopies and sunlight filtering through them here and there, showing him the way, as his legs would carry him faster and faster through the trees.

He had had that same dream on Coruscant as well, his mind transferring him somewhere else while he slept, far away from all the grey walls and hard streets and bright neon lights he saw his every waking moment. He had always been more rested after those nights, as the running had always felt more freeing than anything in those dreams, and not like every step was like running straight towards his own grave, as it had been when he was awake.

Neither Kamino or Coruscant had had forests.

Alderaan had. So, so many of them. There was one right outside the Palace, and Fox could see it every time he looked outside the window, the green treetops stretching all the way to the foot of the Aldera Mountains.

It was right there, for the first time in his life, and for the first time in his life, Fox wasn't required to spend every minute of his life working for the system that wanted him dead.

It was right there, just like in his dreams, and Fox couldn't run anymore.

His doctors had called him lucky. He had miracuously not suffered oxygen deprivation to his brain, as his men and Bail and whoever of the Alderaanian delegation that had been there had kept his lungs moving and heart beating for him, when his body had not been capable of doing so by itself. He had gotten the best medical attention there was probably available in all the Galaxy, reconnecting his body back together, healing an injury which for most of the people anywhere would've been an automatic death sentence. He had a team of dedicated medical personel, monitoring his every vital and putting hours of their own life just to make his better. He had a wife and a husband who would give him anything he could ever ask for. He had a child, a beautiful, smart, wonderful child, who looked at him with bright eyes and even brighter smiles and didn't care that Fox had failed in his life so, so many times already, before she had even been born.

He was lucky. Fox knew that. He had more than he ever deserved.

Still, he couldn't deny the bitterness he felt when he would look out of the windows and see the forest and be so painfully aware that his dream would probably never come true.

It was pessimistic to think so. Fox knew that as well. His doctors thought that he was doing fine. Better than anybody could've expected. He had gotten strength and motion back to his upper body, to a level that he could operate by himself, and his legs, no matter how much they still shook sometimes or how uncoordinated they were or how badly they ached afterwards for days, were able to carry his weight and move him forward. Slowly, and more often than not a little painfully, but he was walking again.

It wasn't out of the question that he could, someday, walk without much of an issue, and perhaps, if they managed to adjust the treatment even more and he kept up with his therapies and exercises, he could run. Maybe. Someday.

Despite being lucky and getting more than he ever deserved, Fox had learned not to hope too much a long, long time ago, and letting go of habits that had been violently taught to him was hard.

He still dreamed of running in the forest, but these days, the dreams felt more taunting than anything else. So felt the forest.

It felt so now too, as Fox stood outside, just a few meters away from the first trees, and watched as Leia toddled around on the soft ground, beneath the shadows of the longest branches.

Fox still enjoyed being outside, of course he did. On Kamino, being outside had meant getting drenched and cold. On Coruscant, being outside had meant getting tired and hurt. On Alderaan, being outside meant that he was getting clean air and warm sunlight and time with his family. Of course he enjoyed it.

He just couldn't quite shake the bitter mournfullness from his heart, no matter how much joy there was to push it away to the furthest corner.

He still smiled as he watched Leia run around freely. No matter what, his daughter didn't yet have the failures of his life dragging her down. No matter what, she was happy and free, and that really was all Fox could ever ask for.

Leia stumbled a little bit. Her legs were still uncoordinated as well, after all, as she had just gotten the hang of running. She fell down more often than not, and Fox admired the way she always just stood up and continued like nothing had happened. It had been encouraging, back when Fox had taken his first, shaky steps. Leia had learned how to walk a few steps without holding onto anything just a couple of weeks before, and had seemed extactic when Fox had followed suit.

Fox tried not to think about the fact that she was already faster than him.

He watched as Leia pushed herself up, pouted just a little, and then made her way towards him, her hands reaching for Fox from the moment she looked at him.

"What is it?" Fox asked. He took a few steps to meet her halfway. His legs felt good today. No aches before he got up, and he got them to point where he wanted to for once.

Leia grabbed his hand. Hers were still so small, not being able to even wrap around Fox's fingers all the way. She tugged at it a bit.

"Walk!" She said, smiling at Fox and looking at him expectantly. "Buir walk!"

She had started to speak more as well, lately, even if most of the time she was just using one or two words to order them around.

"I am walking", Fox said. Leia tugged his hand again. "Where are we walking?"

He let her tug him another step forward, and Leia let go of his hand with one of hers for a moment to point at the forest.

Fox looked at the trees. Green and beautiful, with golden sunlight reflecting on the leaves and filtering through the branches to the soft ground. He then turned to look at the few members of the Royal Guard, standing a few meters away from them. They were always there, if Fox was outside, with or without Leia, just in case Fox needed someone to help him.

He couldn't defend himself, after all. Or anyone else, for that matter.

"Captain", he called. "We're going to take a little walk."

The Captain nodded.

"Of course, Your Highness", he said. "Call us, if you need assistance."

"I will", Fox said, and then turned back to Leia. "Show Buir where to go."

He didn't need to tell Leia twice. She was more than happy to pull Fox along, towards the trees and then underneath them, to the little path that wound around the roots and deeper into the forest. Fox held onto Leia's little hand as they walked, the sandy ground giving gently beneath their feet.

Leia didn't run, or even try to. She kept walking, matching her steps to Fox's, and turning to look at him with a wide grin every time they took a step at the same time, and giggled when Fox smiled back at her.

It was quiet in the forest. There was a slight wind above them, shifting the shapes of light and shadows around them ever so slightly. There were still little sapplings pushing upwards from the ground, even though all the older trees had already gotten their leaves fully back. The ground was soft and the air smelled gently like the resin running lazily down on the frames of the evergreen trees, and Fox-

Fox felt just as free, like he had in all of his dreams, as he walked slowly among the trees, Leia's hand in his, both on their own feet.

[ferigrieving]

philophobia.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ in which you're karasuno's academic victim.

⤷ masterlist ; editor – @unironicfemcel ; ii morning ; iv afternoon (coming soon)

you felt yourself slipping.

what should have been a brief moment of reprieve was anything but, the constant thought of your missing assignments and tests were plaguing you “these are the golden years of your life,” they said “enjoy it while you can.”

you couldn’t think of a bigger let down.

maybe, if you were anyone other than yourself, it’d be true, in some sense anyways. you couldn’t recall the last time you didn’t want out.

selfishly, in the hours of the night, you’d wish for another chance. in another universe, maybe you got to taste what it was like to be loved again.

you wonder if tsukishima felt the same way sometimes. if he could even feel. you doubted he could. he was so… stoic all the time. like it’d kill him to have anything other than that fucking smirk on his face.

it was stupid, how much that boy took up your thoughts. you wanted to rip your brain straight out of your head.

you have never felt more alone, sitting here in a courtyard full of people. it was suffocating. you had recently learned the word for how you felt; sonder. the realisation that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. you didn’t know if having a word for it made it better or worse. you figured it was worse.

knowing what was wrong with you and not having the slightest clue on how to fix it.

picking at your food, you felt your appetite disappear in the face of overwhelming helplessness. you had rushed to pack your lunch in the morning, and ended up bringing nothing but a container of soggy rice. 

across the courtyard, you caught a glance of the man who ruined your life without lifting a finger. despite your greatest efforts to push him out of your mind, he lingered, an ever present thorn in your side.

you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, sitting there with the green haired boy you never learned the name of, his expression as unreadable as ever. did he ever feel the weight of the world pressing down on him, or was that a struggle only you were blessed with?

it wasn't just academics you were poor at, it seemed that you lost the lottery of life. poor academics, terrible family life, chronically ill, and an overall lack of anyone or anything that brought joy. 

sometimes you’d hear your mothers voice at the dinner table, droning on like a broken record about how ‘we give up so much for you, and all we ask is that you do well in school.’ or something like that. or your fathers voice telling you how weak you were, unable to make a single friend or join a single club. going nowhere in life. fated to die on the streets homeless and starving. or something like that.

it was nauseating, and you knew you should be thankful for all you have. two parents that put food on the table and a roof over your head, loving you ‘unconditionally’, but it was hard. all of it was hard. harder than you think it should be.

it shouldn't be. and you know it. you used to be the perfect child. top of your class, teachers pet, gifted in sports, arts, and everything you laid your hands on. but now, you found that you couldn't even make lunch properly. jack of no trades and master of none.

with a sigh you pushed yourself away from the makeshift lunch table you had made from a tree root, forcing yourself to walk around and do anything else.

as you made your way through the maze of tables and chairs, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that seemed to settle over you like a heavy cloak. the presence of tsukishima and the other boy loomed large, their laughter and chatter filling the air with an oppressive weight. you doubted the green haired boy was capable of doing anything to you, considering how meek he was during introductions, but you wouldn’t put it past him considering who he decided to associate with.

you stood in front of the vending machine, assessing your options of the many cold drinks they had. you always got the same thing, but it felt like routine to at least look at the other options, even if you were sure you’d pick strawberry milk for the rest of your life.

but as you fumbled with the coins, your fingers slipping and sliding over the smooth metal, you couldn't shake the feeling of impatience gnawing at you. why did everything have to be so difficult? why couldn't you just get what you wanted for once without any complications?

the blond towering over you from behind didnt help to soothe your nerves, either. 

you wish you could say something, stand up to him for once in your life, but before you could react, a hand reached over your shoulder, fingers deftly punching in the code for the last bottle of strawberry milk. you felt your heart sink as you watched the bottle fall from its perch, landing with a soft thud at the bottom.

why the fuck would this guy be drinking strawberry milk of all things? he probably doesnt even like it, he just wanted to piss you off by taking the last one.

“looks like you’re out of luck.” the voice taunted, dripping with condescension you wish it’d drown in. 

you turned, your eyes meeting tsukishima’s smug expression. his golden eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and superiority, his smirk widening as he watched you grapple with your frustration.

"thanks for making it easy," he spat, reaching down to retrieve the bottle. He took a leisurely sip, clearly savouring the victory as he stood there, his presence overwhelming. you wouldn’t be surprised if your classmates were staring on and betting on whether you two would fight. 

as you stood there staring him down, your thoughts a tumultuous whirlpool of resentment and self-pity, you turned on your heel and walked off, trying not to cause a scene you were sure you’d lose.

he caught your eye as you sat down against the trunk, and, for a fleeting moment, his expression changed. it was subtle, almost imperceptible—a brief flicker of something that might have been empathy or perhaps just curiosity. something only someone who spent an embarrassing amount of hours thinking about his face. but just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual mask of indifference.

he paused for just a moment, looking you up and down as he sipped from his bottle.  you braced yourself for another cutting remark, another reminder of your perceived failures. but instead, he simply stood there, as if considering his next move.

"what the hell is your problem?" he finally asked, and you didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

you stared at him, your mind racing to process the unexpected question. "why do you care?" you shot back, more defensively than you intended.

tsukishima shrugged, leaning against the edge of the table. "maybe i don't. maybe ‘m just curious why someone who used to have it all together suddenly doesn't."

the words stung more than you cared to admit. it was a cruel reminder of the chasm between who you were and who you had become. maybe school isn't the safe haven you thought it was “things change," you muttered, looking away, unable to meet his piercing gaze.

“you’re seriously gonna let some shit like that bring you down?" you couldn't tell if he was trying to be nice. you hopedhe wasn't.

you scoffed, the bitterness in your chest flaring up. "easy for you to say, asshole. you seem to have everything figured out."

he let out a short, humourless laugh. "you think i have everything figured out? trust me, you’re dead fuckin’ wrong.."

you blinked, taken aback by the rawness in his voice. for a moment, you saw a glimpse of vulnerability, a crack in the armour that tsukishima always wore so proudly.  it was difficult to imagine him struggling with anything, let alone something that could make him feel as lost as you did.  it was jarring, unsettling even, to see him like this. you looked away.

"then why do you act like it?" you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and confusion. you didn't know where you got this newfound confidence, but you needed answers. some form of closure. even if it’d kill you.

"because it's easier that way.” tsukishima sighed, leaning back on the trunk a way aways from you. “people expect me to be the best, so I give them what they want. it doesn't mean i don't have my own shit to deal with.”

you were silent, the weight of his words sinking in. maybe you weren't so different, both struggling under the weight of expectations, both hiding your pain behind carefully crafted facades. "why are you telling me this?" you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

he met your gaze again, his eyes sharper now, as if the brief moment of empathy had passed. "because you need to hear it. awfully selfish of you to think you’re the only person with problems in the world. stop acting like you’re the only one. it’s pathetic."

the harshness of his words hit you like a slap, reigniting the anger you felt towards him. "and you think you’re helping by bullying me?"

tsukishima shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. "maybe not. but at least ‘m honest. better than everyone else pretending they give a damn."

you clenched your fists, struggling to contain the myriad of emotions swirling inside you. "why  do you care what I do, then?"

he looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "why wouldn't i ?”

“why wouldn't you?” you repeated, an incredulous look on your face. his response caught you off guard. you expected another biting remark, another reminder of your shortcomings. what the fuck is up with this guy…?

“you don't make any sense,” you mumble, absentmindedly picking at your rice. “one minute you act like you want me dead in a ditch, and the next you’re… i don't even know. why are you acting like you care?”

“don't flatter yourself.” he scoffed, “i couldn't give a damn about you of all people. i just cant stand it when you act like you cant do anything. you could do it once. that means you can do it again, you just don't want to, do you?”

you felt a surge of anger at his callousness, and you wanted nothing more than to break his nose. “you don't have to be a bitch about it, kei.” you snapped, spitting his first name out like it was venom.

“oh, but i do. its the only thing im good at.” is this guy serious right now?

his words stung, but beneath the surface, there was something else. maybe it was just your imagination. you couldn't tell. you were too focused on the anger simmering in your chest.

as the words hung in the air, an awkward silence settled between you. the tension was palpable, thick, and suffocating, but you felt like there was something else. something you couldn't quite put your finger on. you shook your head, trying to push aside the confusing mix of emotions. this was tsukishima after all. the last person you’d expect to show any kind of empathy. especially you.

tsukishima shifted uncomfortably where he stood, gaze flickering away from yours for a brief moment before returning. “look, i..” he trailed off, white knuckling the drink in his hand.

you watched him, waiting for him to continue, but he remained silent, his expression guarded. despite his harsh words, there was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something you hadn't seen before.

for a brief, fleeting second, you wondered if there was more to the younger tsukishima brother than met the eye. If maybe, just maybe, there was a reason behind his relentless teasing, his abrasive demeanour.

but before you could dwell on it any longer, he cleared his throat and turned around abruptly. "forget it," he muttered, his voice rough. " doesn't matter."

“no, don't even try ‘n’ pull that shit with me. what could you possibly want from me?”

he froze for a moment, his back still turned to you. “honestly? i dont– i dont know.”

“you don't know?”

he did. he did know.  he just couldn't put it into words. for someone so smart, he wasn't exactly the best at articulating what he wants.  in a class where he’s often regarded as the smartest, he felt a sense of isolation, a lack of peers who he can truly bond with. all he had was yamaguchi, but even then, he was barely hanging on. it was hard to joke around with someone who’s first word was probably ‘sorry’. he didn't even know the name of the current second placer in the class, and he doubted he ever will.

he wont admit it, but he misses the beginning of the year. you were more than just rivals; you were equals. someone he could maybe consider his friend. but somewhere along the line, the dynamic shifted, and now he finds himself yearning for what once was.

now, surrounded by classmates who can’t even begin to understand him, and teachers who don't see him as anything other than an A+, tsukishima longs for the connection he once shared with you. he needs someone who can meet him on his level without having to stoop down.

but he knows understanding is a battle rarely fought. and so, he watches you from afar, stealing glances when he thinks you’re not looking. eyes sweeping over the way you clenched your jaw, or scrunched your nose at even the most minor inconvenience. 

in your absence, he feels lost. he longs for someone who could understand him truly, someone who sees past his facade of arrogance. sure, he cares for his teammates and yamaguchi in his own way, but even then, it never felt as easy as it was with you.

as he looks at you, he sees himself. 

and as he watches you, fists clenching and unclenching as you look at him incredulously, he wonders if you feel the same– if you too, miss it. miss him. he knows he does.

“i hate you.” thats not what i meant. the words slip out before he can stop him, a sudden rush of emotions clouding his thoughts. he turns around quickly, a hint of panic in his eyes. “thats not– thats not what i meant.” he hissed out, careful not to push any buttons.

“i..i hate you right now. how you are. how fucking.. defeated you are all the time. its so stupid. what happened to you?” he huffed out, crouching down beside you. “i hate fighting with you all the time.”

you blinked, caught off guard by his sudden vulnerability. “what do you–”

“im sick and tired of you.” he interrupts, voice laced with frustration. he wanted to shake you, scream at you until you were the boy he once knew. he cant bear the thought of seeing you like this, especially knowing that he’s partly responsible for it. but he doesn't know how to fix it. how to fix you.

as the words hung in the air, tsukishima’s chest tightness with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. he’s never felt like this before. he’s never… done this before. he wonders if he’s supposed to feel that shiver wracking his body, the unnatural way his teeth clatter. “im– sorry.” he chokes out, voice barely above a whisper. 

you stare at him, unsure of how to respond. it was odd to see tsukishima like this, vulnerable and raw. it was like he was naked in front of you, baring his chest, holding the string as you pulled back the arrow.

“i don't hate you, kei.” you mumble, the anger and resentment that simmered between you two feeling insignificant in the face of his sudden apology. “i never did.”

and with that, you walked away, leaving him alone at the tree, thoughts in turmoil. as he watched your retreating figure, lunch bell ringing in his ears, a strange sense of regret washed over him, and he couldn't quite place why.

you wanted nothing more than to turn around and continue talking, to hold him by his shoulders and ask him why ? with a pang of regret in your heart, he exited the courtyard. he had tried to show you he cared, in his own clumsy way. but like always, he had failed to make himself understood.

and so, the distance between you remained, a silent barrier neither of you knew how to break.

it was only later, when you replayed the conversation in your mind, that you realised the significance of his words. the faint hint of concern in his voice, the way he had lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

but by then, it was too late. the opportunity had passed, and you were left with nothing but unanswered questions and a lingering sense of what could have been.