#which is then followed by sleeping excessively for a few days to catch up

[coffee-and-geto]

“SAY YOU’RE MINE, I’M YOURS FOR THE NIGHT!”

pairing: kento nanami x f!reader

summary: forced to spend the evening with his co-workers, nanami has no idea that the bar he goes to with them is gradually turning into a club where your enticing body catches his beady-eye. so despite his exhaustion and tolerance for alcohol, nanami has every intention of enjoying his evening as much as you do by flirting with him.

warnings: +18 ONLY, smut, nsfw, age gap (11 years), fluff, slight domestic at the end, reader is a student, nanami an employee at a bank, needy! nanami, excessive drinking, alcohol, tired! nanami, sex (p in v), fingering (f! receiving), handjob, oral (f + m receiving), balls playing, cowgirl, teasing, unprotected sex, fanart by @/matchapichai on twt.

wc: 4,764

a/n: based on this post. hope you guys will enjoy this silly fic :)

“Come on, Nanami, going to an izakaya will do you good, and besides, the boss won’t be there, you can relax,” a colleague teased insistently.

“That’s true,” another one added, flipping her long chestnut hair over her shoulder in charming, seductive waves.

Nanami suppressed a sigh, fully aware of her futile attempts to flirt with him. She was a much younger colleague who seemed to have been drawn to him since his arrival at the bank where he worked.

“Maybe we could grow a little closer.” She flashed her brightest smile.

Perhaps Nanami gave in, as the dimmed lights of the bar did wonders for his mood — a stark contrast to the blinding lights above his office desk. He sat on a barstool and ordered a dry Martini — his usual choice after a long day at work.

Though he was used to drinking, the perfect man that Kento was stood far from the image of an alcoholic drowning his problems or drinking out of addiction. He was a man of sophistication who valued sobriety but could still appreciate refined tastes. Fatigue often gave him the urge to drink more to help ease into sleep, but he could thank his genetics for inheriting a high tolerance for alcohol from his family (dear reader, note the irony).

So how could he unwind in peace?

The bartender placed his drink in front of him after a few minutes, during which he tried, without much success, to follow his colleagues’ conversations.

The rolled-up sleeves of his blue shirt revealed long forearms with prominent veins that ran down to his large hands with thick fingers. Those fingers absentmindedly stirred his dry Martini, garnished with a thin slice of lemon, while his gaze swept across the bar, stopping when he heard a bell ring — the sign of new customers entering.

In the next second, several thoughts passed through his mind in precise order:

First, the exterior setting gave him a glimpse of the starry navy-blue sky, signaling how late it had gotten.

Then, he noticed a rather large group of people entering the bar, filling it quickly to the point where the noise of conversations was almost drowned out by the background music.

And finally, there was you.

Amidst all the commotion, it was your silhouette that caught his amber eyes. Standing by your side were what seemed to be your friends, with whom you were chatting cheerfully in your elegant evening dress. And as if you felt his gaze on you, you stopped laughing with your friend and turned your attention toward the bar, where your eyes instantly fell on him.

The shared gaze between the two of you intensified the atmosphere, and strangely enough, Kento didn’t seem ready to look away...

...at least not until his annoying colleague with the long hair, whose name he couldn’t even remember (had he ever?), slid up next to him, forcing him to break eye contact.

“Nanami-senpai, are you having a good evening?” she coos, batting her eyelashes, all smiles.

He let out a barely audible sigh. “Fine, and you?”

“Same.”

A slight pang tuggs at his heart, not out of interest in her, but out of pity for her wasted efforts. She was, after all, quite cute, polite, and always so gentle in both her manners and her voice — a true angel fallen from the heavens, yet still unable to reach the blonde.

Time continued to pass, with his colleague trying her best to keep the conversation alive, despite Nanami’s often short, closed answers. Loud, raucous laughter caught his attention, and he glanced over his shoulder.

There you are again.

Sitting on the couch, still surrounded by your friends, you’re deep in conversation, and for some reason, Nanami feels a sudden urge to join in. You seem so warm and charming. The changing lights of the bar shift with each movement of the cherry-red and occasionally neon-purple spotlights. Music now fills the bar, the dance floor packed with dancers, and the muffled conversations serving as background noise.

Just as he’s about to look away from you, you catch his attention by locking eyes with him for the second time that evening. He finds it hard not to stare, resting his elbow on the wooden counter while his thumb absentmindedly brushes his lower lip. You sit down next to him and order your drink.

Your hair cascades over your shoulder as you turn slightly toward him.

“Good evening,” you murmur, barely audible, your cherry-colored lipstick making him want to ruin it with his own mouth. A slight smile curls your lips.

He ignores his colleague, who was still trying to hold the conversation, to respond, “Good evening.”

You glance at his empty glass. “What were you drinking?” you ask.

And Lord, your voice intoxicates him far faster than the sherry ever could.

“Dry Martini,” Kento replies, his eyes fixed on yours. “But I think I’ll have the same as you.”

He gestures to the bartender, and less than a minute later, two glasses of dry vermouth appear in front of you, the clear liquid shimmering in the transparent glasses, with ice cubes floating on the surface.

“You don’t seem like you’re from around here,” you comment, taking a sip of your drink.

“I’m not.”

“I figured as much. You don’t look like someone who enjoys partying.”

Nanami raises an eyebrow, almost amused. “Oh really? So what do I look like?”

“Like a salaryman who just wants to go home after a long day on a Friday night,” you glance behind him, “but got dragged here by his colleagues without realizing the bar turns into a club after 10 PM, am I right?”

“Right on the mark,” Kento chuckles.

“Haha!”

“And you? You look like a real party girl,” he continues.

A mischievous smirk tugs at the corner of your carmine lips. “Close enough.”

Kento hums, narrowing his eyes as he studies you. “You seem younger than me.” He pauses. “Still a student?”

“Right on the mark,” you echo his words, taking another sip of your cocktail.

A pleasant silence settles between you two before you decide to break it.

“How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Hmm…” you ponder, squinting slightly. “Late twenties, early thirties. No more, no less.”

“I’m thirty-four.”

You burst into laughter. “Such an old man!” you tease.

“And you?” Nanami counters with a slight smile, raising an eyebrow. “Still a baby fresh out of her mother’s arms, I guess?” He sips his glass of dry vermouth.

“Hey!” you protest, playing along with his teasing. “I’m twenty-three!”

“Really?”

“Really.” You nod, a smile in your softened voice. “11 years apart, but in the end, it’s just a number, right?” You gently bite your lower lip, and Kento doesn’t miss the slightly timid — albeit subtle — tone you’ve adopted, nor the rosy hue creeping up your cheeks.

Is it knowing his age that makes you seem even cuter?

Kento shrugs, downing the rest of his glass in one go. “Indeed, after all, it can depend on cultural norms.”

“Screw norms,” you mutter under your breath, suddenly annoyed, as you follow his lead and finish your glass.

Kento suppresses another smile and orders another drink.

“Aren’t you going to rejoin your friends?” he inquires.

“I have far less interest in them now that I’m in such better company,” you purr.

“I’m flattered.”

“You should be,” you add, moving your seat closer to his. And he can’t help but notice that your blush hasn’t faded.

Nor that a strand of your hair is blocking his view of your pretty face, so he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear. You jump slightly at the gesture but quickly regain your composure, thanking him in a soft whisper.

He pulls his arm back and quickly checks his watch.

“As charming as this company is, it wouldn’t be very wise to stay too late here,” Kento warns, his protective nature resurfacing. The bartender refills his drink, which he immediately begins to sip.

You pout. “Don’t you want to protect me?”

“You want me to protect you?”

"Couldn’t we do more?" you ask hopefully.

“I didn’t say that,” Kento responds, measured, rubbing a hand over his tired face, the alcohol starting to catch up with him. He needed to unwind.

“You seem exhausted,” you comment.

“I am. There’s no ‘seem’ about it,” he sighs.

Your hand — much smaller than his — glides along his exposed forearm. “Let’s go sit on the couches, Mister…”

“Kento Nanami. Call me Kento,” he says. “And you?” He stands up and pays both his tab and yours, despite your protests. All he wants is a name, after all. You finally give it to him with a slight pout, which he quickly erases by slipping an arm around your waist. “May I?”

Your lips part. “Yes.”

You both head toward a couch, half-occupied by a couple making out, too engrossed in each other to notice you.

The rest of the evening continues in the same flirtatious tone as at the counter, with waitresses bringing drinks to everyone, including Kento, who, despite the number of drinks, barely seems tipsy. Only the fatigue is visible on his face, but the smile you give him makes him forget about it as he listens to you talk, his head resting on the back of the couch, eyes closed for a few moments.

He doesn’t immediately realize how or why his head slips and falls onto you.

Or more precisely, onto your chest, exposed by the neckline of your dress.

He immediately straightens up. “Sorry, I—”

“No worries.” You pull him back against you, his face pressed against the middle of your breasts to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks. “You can stay like that, I don’t mind.”

Kento doesn’t argue, instead sighing softly, his large hands finding their way around your waist, gently squeezing as his thumbs trace soft circles over the fabric of your dress. So there he is, half-sprawled on the couch, using the softness of your chest as a pillow.

A comfortable silence settles between you two, filled by the background music from the bar-turned-club.

Yet it feels as though it’s just the two of you.

Kento looks so adorable like this, half-lying on you with his head on your chest — so cute, in fact, that you place a kiss on his prominent cheekbone.

Your lipstick leaves a hot red mark on his perfect skin, and you resist the urge to do it again — especially when Nanami’s cheeks flush, and he gazes up at you with a neediness in his captivating eyes.

“More,” he breathes so softly that the word barely makes it past the thumping beats and cherry-red LED lights. “Please, more—”

“Shhh.” You silence him, placing your finger gently on his thin lips, dying to taste them. Your fingertips gently scratch at the sharp undercut at the back of his neck, slowly moving up to his clean parting, and Nanami hums in appreciation.

“Please, another,” he whispers in a raspy murmur.

“You still look so tired yet so composed, Kento, hmm?” you purr into his ear, and suddenly, his shirt feels too tight around his muscular chest, stifling his breath. “Are you good with alcohol?”

He nods almost imperceptibly.

“How about a deal? For each kiss, you take a sip to help relax those poor shoulders, okay?” you coo, your voice enchanting as your hand glides sensually from his hair to his jaw, then down his neck, finally resting on his broad shoulders.

“Anything you want.”

And now, you’re pressed against each other, a needy Nanami in your arms, covered in cherry-red kisses from your lipstick while one of your hands holds a glass of extra añejo tequila, pressed to the edge of his lips.

You place another kiss on his face — this time, at the corner of his mouth — and Nanami lets out a soft moan, more like a muffled growl. One of his hands grabs your jaw, pulling you toward him, capturing your lips in a kiss filled with desperate, ravenous desire.

A smile curves your lips before you return the kiss he’s silently begging for. The tip of Nanami’s wet tongue brushes against the entrance of your mouth, asking gently for access. You grant it, sliding your own tongue to intertwine with his, humming at the sweet-bitter taste of alcohol.

“Kento,” you sigh between kisses. But he lets out a faint whine, eager to continue kissing you, which makes you giggle in amusement. Your hands gently hold the sides of his head, pulling him even closer to deepen the kiss.

Your breathing quickens, as does his, the tension between you two swelling like a balloon. After a few minutes that feel like an eternity, you slowly pull away, not moving too far — just enough to notice the bulge forming in the crotch of his beige slacks.

A sly smile forms on your lips. “Needy, hmm?” You shift slightly and raise one leg between his, allowing your knee and calf to slowly, discreetly brush up and down against his growing erection with each movement.

Just to tease him.

He clenches his jaw — likely grinding his teeth — trying to contain all the pleasure your touch is giving him. As your leg strokes upward one more time, his dick twitches in his slacks. Immediately afterward, a blush of embarrassment stains his hollow cheeks.

“Sweetheart, not here—”

“So, upstairs?” You wink at him.

Before he can respond, you plant yet another kiss on his lips and pull away. His amber eyes sparkle with desperate need as they meet yours.

“Look at you, Ken, so needy, so messy with that mouth of yours ruined by my lipstick, hmm?” you purr, your forefinger trailing down his blue shirt and toying with the hem of his yellow tie. “You want me? Aren’t you the older one?”

Your teasing was too much for him.

How can a young girl have this grumpy man wrapped around her finger?

That’s wild.

“Fuck,” he hisses, grabbing your wrist when you stop your knee at the level of his zipper, rubbing it in earnest. “You asked for it, so you’ll have it, my dear teaser.” He gives you a faint smile, sliding his rough hands down your waist as he stands up, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Kento—”

“No more Kento, sweetheart,” he whispers, forgetting about the crowd in the bar, now fully transformed into a club. A steady sway tells you he’s climbing stairs, and soon, your eyes fall on dark wooden steps. “A room okay? Or would you prefer the restroom?” He flashes a sly grin.

Even though you don’t know him that well, smiling this much doesn’t quite seem like Nanami.

Looks like the alcohol has had its effect on him...

“A room, of course!” you protest, and a genuine laugh echoes in your ears. The blush rises to your face, both from his laughter, which warms your heart, and from the idea of fucking in a semi-public area. Not that you would’ve minded.

“Alright, alright.”

A minute later, in a room with fresh sheets — clearly prepared for any intimate encounters between customers — Nanami is already above you, his tie undone, and his imposing body pinning you against the mattress. His soft lips devour yours with much more hunger, while his large hands caress your body from time to time — massaging slow circles on your waist with his thumbs, gently stroking the underside of your thigh he’s lifted against him, or running his fingers along your torso.

Things heat up further when Kento trails sloppy kisses down your neck, stopping at your collarbone before teasing the edge of your evening dress.

“May I?”

You nod quickly, helping him get rid of your clothing in no time. Now only in black lingerie, Nanami continues his trail of kisses along your body. Your heart racing, you let out a soft moan as he caresses your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

“Feels good?” He starts to gently pinch them, then takes your breasts in his hands to massage them softly. “So soft,” he murmurs, placing another kiss between your breasts.

“Kento, I want more,” you whisper, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until your crotch is pressed against his obvious bulge. A wave of electric pleasure shoots through your core, making you gasp as you rub against him, desperate to feel more. “Please…”

Your pout tugs at his heart, enough for him to lower himself down to your lower abdomen and kiss it tenderly. “A little lower?” he mutters. He uncrosses your legs after your squeaky “yes” and spreads them, planting a chaste kiss in the center on your clit, which he can already feel swollen even through the fabric. “Here?” He sticks out his tongue, licking the wet spot forming on your underwear and pressing his nose against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Ah—Kento,” you moan, bucking your hips against his face for more friction. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting out more sweet sounds as he seriously begins the foreplay, pulling your panties down your legs and sliding them off completely. “Hmmm! Ah!”

Without waiting any longer, his lips capture your clit, torturing it in the gentlest way — his finger tracing teasing circles around your entrance, which clenches and releases around nothing. “So needy and wet f’me…”

“F-finger, a finger, I want a finger inside me, please,” you babble, panting and squealing.

“You sure? I don’t think you deserve that reward, sweetheart,” Kento tuts, still lapping at your clit as the pad of his forefinger gently taps your damp entrance. “You were such a tease, rubbing my cock through my pants and telling me you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, didn’t you say that?”

He chuckles softly when you pout again, giving him those puppy-dog eyes. “Kento, I’m sorry, I’ll be a good girl, I just want you so bad…”

He smirks, savoring your pleading tone. Then, he pushes his finger into you, the tightness making him stifle a groan, though it’s only the first third of his finger. “That’s what you want?” he coos.

“More, please, haa…”

He feels you clench around his thick finger, and the sensation is delicious for him. He slides a bit more of his finger in, pressing the pad against your cervix, causing your back to arch immediately. “How responsive.”

“Kento, please,” you whine, tears welling up in your eyes. Your tight pussy sucks on his finger so perfectly, so how will it handle his fat cock? Shivers run down his spine at the mere thought.

He starts slowly pumping his finger inside you, rubbing against your soft, gummy walls that make him want to devour you. “You’re so wet,” Kento comments, finger-fucking you tenderly, the slick sound evident. He suddenly pulls his finger out with a pop sound, despite your protests, and brings it to his mouth. His tongue wraps around it as he hums. “Tastes so good, sweetheart.”

Your face flushes completely, but you try to shake off the feeling by taking one of his free hands and bringing it to your chest, still covered by your bra. “I want you. Now.”

“You wanna take the lead?” he chuckles, planting light kisses on your inner thighs.

“After,” you murmur, unclasping your bra before sitting up to gently push Kento back onto the bed and straddle him. “I want to play with you a little, then we’ll see.” As you lower your hips, your dripping, naked cunt presses against the bulge in his pants, already swollen from his erection.

The effect on Nanami is immediate. He wastes no time grabbing your hips, holding them firmly to stop you from moving — risking him cumming in his pants.

“God, you’re perfect,” he praises, closing his eyes for a moment, a small crease forming between his brows. “Baby, fuck, I can’t even think straight—”

You cut him off with a deep kiss, your smaller, agile hands quickly undoing his shirt buttons. You can feel the throb of his dick beneath your cunt, with only his pants in the way — and your wetness soaking the fabric in the process.

You gently rub against him, forcing him to let out a sharp breath. His nails dig into your hips as you trail kisses down his chest, pressing a kiss to each of his abs.

“You want more, Kento?” Your voice turns just as teasing as your wandering hands that play with the blond hair above his groin. You move lower, grazing over the growing bulge in his pants, knowing it’s about to burst. “My mouth? My hands? Both?”

“Anything, sweetheart, as long as you touch me, please,” Kento breathes out, sucking in a sharp breath as you swiftly unzip his pants, kissing the length of his cock that now lies across his lower abdomen.

His balls look fuller and more obvious, even through the thin layer of his boxers, and the urge to squeeze them becomes overwhelming. You do, pressing lightly, the squishy sensation making you giggle, while Nanami finally lets out a groan.

“Please, haa, I’m close,” he pants, grabbing your wrists to stop you.

You pout, furrowing your brows. “I’m not done.”

Nanami slowly pulls down his boxers, his hands slightly trembling as he frees his thick, hard cock. “Now you can.”

Without hesitation, you wrap your hand around his length, gently stroking from the base to the tip. Your mischievous mouth moves to his balls, softly sucking on one, which makes you grin — they’re so soft and adorable. Kento’s precum leaks quickly, trickling between your grip and along his shaft, slicking it up.

You stroke him faster and harder until Nanami is reduced to incomprehensible babbling, and he warns you how close he is. “Baby, I’m cumming, I—”

His thick, abundant load spurts, coating your hands and dripping onto the balls you were sucking fervently. “You taste so sweet,” you mumble, licking up his cum while cleaning him at the same time.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, and as soon as he catches his breath, you move up over him again, aligning his still-hard cock beneath your dripping pussy.

“Wanna ride you,” you pout, begging him with your eyes. “Can I?”

“Of course, baby, take it easy, okay?” Kento murmurs, gripping your hips to help you lower onto him.

As the tip pushes inside you, you immediately tighten around him, encouraging him to fill you with his fat, aching cock. You moan loudly as he slides deeper, reaching so far inside you that you can feel him brushing against your womb, so perfectly and heavenly.

“Oh, God— Fuuuck, you feel so good, so perfect, attagirl,” Kento babbles, his lips parted in pleasure, but his eyes never leave yours, watching every wince and every sound you make.

He lets you adjust to him, gently spreading his legs to ensure that every inch he has is swallowed by your greedy cunt. You cry out as he reaches your deepest point.

“Ah, Kento, so fucking deep, so big, I’m so full,” you babble, tears welling up in your eyes once again. Your chest rises and falls uncontrollably, and even when you try to stabilize yourself, it’s hard to resist bouncing on his dick.

So that’s exactly what you do, lifting your hips easily thanks to the firm grasp he has on your soft sides, following the rhythm to gently bounce on him.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing good,” Kento whispers, clenching his jaw to suppress his moans. “Fuck, just like that, tell me if you need more help.”

“Feels so good,” you squeal. "Please, help me a bit." You try to bounce on him a little faster, but it’s much harder than you expected.

The slapping sounds fill the room, and a steamy atmosphere settles in. You lean in closer as Kento helps you bounce up and down on his cock faster and deeper, his grunts and moans escaping. “Want me to fill you up, baby?”

You pick up the pace, your pussy greedily swallowing his length and tightening even more when you hear his words. You moan together, your desperate sounds mingling in the heat of the moment. Meeting Kento’s lust-filled gaze, you reply, “Yes, want to be full of your cum, please, Kento.”

“Anything for my good girl.”

He pulls you against him, taking control even though you’re on top. The scent of sex fills the room, signaling that both of your climaxes are nearing. With his powerful thrusts, he sinks deeper into you, relentlessly hitting your sweet spot, until you’re almost crying from the pleasure.

“I’m starting to get close, sweetheart,” Kento whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as your walls tighten around him.

“M-Me too, want to cum on your cock, Ken,” you cry, biting down on his trapezius to stifle your sweet sounds.

“I’m gonna fill you up, okay?” Kento bucks his hips harder into you, the wet sounds getting louder and more steady. You nod and sniffle, tightening around him as you teeter on the edge of orgasm.

“Cummin’, ah!” Your pussy spasms around him just as he releases inside you, spurting thick drops deep into your womb. He groans, his hands gripping your hips even tighter, surely leaving marks that will appear tomorrow.

“Oh, you feel so good, my sweet girl.” Kento keeps thrusting into you, slower and more tenderly now, guiding both of you through your orgasms.

Warm, white ropes leak out of your walls as they milk every drop from him, both of you struggling to catch your breath.

“You’re perfect, my love,” Kento mutters into your neck, peppering your slightly damp skin with kisses.

“I love you,” you breathe, letting your body lay flat against his, unwilling to leave his embrace ever again.

─────────────────────

When you wake up, the daylight makes you squint, causing you to groan. You turn onto your side and suddenly open your eyes wide.

You’re no longer in the club bed, but in one that’s unfamiliar to you.

A few inches away, a masculine figure half-covered by white sheets is, in fact, Kento, who also begins to stir, his gaze immediately finding yours.

“Sweetheart.”

The nickname warms your heart.

And suddenly, you remember spending the rest of the evening with him, and when it came time to leave, you cried and protested, wanting to stay with him. How could he refuse such an adorable and sweet-hearted request?

“I want to live with you.”

Kento’s eyes widen, and he’s on the verge of choking on his own saliva. “What—”

“You heard me. I don’t want to leave you, please,” you insist, biting your lip. “I want to be your girlfriend, your partner, or even your wife.”

“Hey, easy.” He sits up and pulls you into his arms. “You might still be under the influence of the alcohol. Do you want me to take you back home—”

“No! Ken, I’m serious, please!”

Big, hot tears roll down your cheeks.

Why are you becoming so emotional and stubborn like a child? This childish behavior doesn’t suit the adult you are, and yet…

“Hey, hey, hey! Sweetheart, I understand, please, don’t cry,” Kento whispers, panicking, wrapping his powerful arms around you and pulling you close to him. “You’re really serious? Are you sure about what you’re saying?” He plants a series of sweet kisses along your jawline, sending shivers through you. His thumb wipes away your tears as he gently rocks you.

You nod, sniffling. “Yes, I love you, I realized it after we slept together,” you explain, your voice slightly hoarse. You clear your throat. “Do you… or…?”

“I love you,” Kento replies almost immediately. “I don’t know how it happened, but you’re adorable, stubborn, and an unmatched tease, but I love you, angel.” He pauses.  So, you want to live with me?”

You nod. “Please.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll never leave you, okay?”

You wipe away the remaining traces of tears and gently kiss Kento’s lips, a smile forming as you notice his hair tousled from sleep. “Love ya.”

“I love you too, baby.”

A moment of silence follows, where you both settle into the warmth and comfort of each other until Nanami decides to break the peaceful quiet. “Are you hungry? We can have breakfast together if you want,” he suggests, a soft, tender smile appearing on his face, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach — and even lower — when you see a faint blush tinting his cheeks.

What a perfect husband he’ll make.

“I know how to make pancakes.” You smile proudly.

“Pancakes it is.”

a/n: i want to write more nanami fics if you guys have any idea around him being older pls ask me in my inbox!! also i’m so sorry if my writing sucks actually i’m so exhausted rn and i’m on my period (cramps hurt so bad) 😭

edit: i was writing this last week so yeah, basically i’m also sick this weak and i lost my voice... can you believe me? 💀

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison @koshhin

also check comments!! there’s people i can’t tag so i do it in comments :) if you want to be added in the tag list, let me know here.

[lady-of-glass-and-bone]

Sway The Stars Which Dazzle Like Pearls

Pairing: Din Djarin x female!reader

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Warnings: reader is mute due to trauma that isn't specified and uses sign language taught to her by Din, everything in italics is being signed.

A/N: I feel like I haven't written anything in forever and I was worried about not being able to get this done in time and that if I did that it wouldn't be good enough anyway. But, here it is, good or bad. If I got anything wrong as far as communicating via sign language, let me know so I can do better! My fic for the Summer Lovin' 2024 writing challenge. @pedgito @chaotic-mystery

The planet they land on seems to have an eternal night, a never ending full moon and black sand beaches. Here, the stars reflect perfectly in the still waters, a mirror image of the galaxy spread out above. She walks down the Razor Crest's ramp silently, assessing these surroundings with a sharp eye.

He watches her squat down on her haunches to scoop up a handful of the dark sand, crushing it around between her fingers like she's feeling for the quality of an expensive fabric woven on a far off planet. Her face gives little away of what she is thinking.

Din doesn't know much about her past, about what happened before he found her stowed away on the Crest and petrified of her own shadow after his (first) explosive departure from Nevarro, the tiny green kid in tow.

All he knows is that she can't talk. The words are there, he can see them tumbling around behind her eyes, but they seem to get clogged up in her throat, like a gummed up hyperdrive. So he'd started teaching her to sign.

Her footsteps crunch the gravel-sand as she makes her way over to his side, brushing her hands together to clean off the excess sand but some grains still cling to the creases between her fingers, almost sparkling in the moonlight like jewelry. She pins him with a questioning gaze and signs

'Why?'

"Why what?" he motions backs and she fumbles another word, face scrunched in frustration until she finds her rhythm

'Why are we here? Bounty?"

Din shakes his head, considering what he would call this little excursion between jobs before he replies with

"Pitstop, for fun"

"You do fun?" she pulls her mouth into a smirk, pleased at her little joke.

Din tries not to sigh. He's glad they can communicate so freely now, it's light-years better than their rough early days where any movement to sudden or big had her flinching away violently. But he has no idea how she learned to put so much sarcasm into her gestures. Not that he minds now. Anything is better than seeing that unfiltered terror in her eyes.

"Come" he turns and takes a step toward the gently lapping waters edge but doesn't hear her follow, he turns back with a questioning tilt of his helmet

"What is it?" she asks, expression concerned, still rooted in place

"Something good" he assures

"Promise?"

"Yes."

When they reach the water, the ship and the sleeping green child inside it are only a few yards away, a hulking silhouette jutting out of the otherwise flat landscape.

Pulling off his gloves and tucking them safely away, Din crouches down, the toes of his boots touching the water. His companion mimics him, watching carefully as he slowly submerges his hands in the water before carefully feeling around in the wet sand below.

She taps her knuckles into the soft place just below his beskar pauldron, knowing from unfortunate experience not to catch the armor with her bare hands, furrowing her brows when he turns to look at her, seeing her ask

"What are you looking for?"

"Just wait" Din says aloud and she leans back to sit properly on the ground, still curiously watching him dig around, one of her own hands drawing meaningless shapes in the sand beside her.

It takes him a few tries before he finds it, a small orb made and shaped by time and natural forces until it was washed ashore, waiting to be found.

Sitting back beside her, Din holds out his find nestled in the palm of his hand. It stands out stark white and shining in the odd moonlight.

She signs something he doesn't recognize at first, she watches him for a moment, waiting, and then tries again

"Diamond"

"No, pearl" he says out loud and signs it once, twice, then watches her repeat the motion.

The first few times are uncertain as her eyes dart between her hands and his, studying the movement he makes which shapes this new word. Then a couple more times, each with more confidence until

"Pearl" she signs, grinning over at him

"Good" Din smiles beneath his helmet, holding out the pearl to her, an offering.

"Mine?" she quirks a brow at him, still uneasy with receiving things she doesn't feel she has earned.

Din just watches her, hand outstretched and waiting patiently for her to accept this small gratitude.

Eventually, with the barest brush of her fingertips across his naked palm, she takes the pearl. Holding it reverently, worry flashing across her face before she curls her hand around the gifted treasure.

Din had learned to sit with silence long before he met her, so he turns his head out toward the water, then upward just a little, like he's watching the stars.

He isn't. He is giving her the privacy to feel those sometimes tumultuous emotions that come with receiving a gift.

She frowns at her closed fist, lips pulled down in a deep scowl. If her eyes look a bit glossy, she would never admit it. There's a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, a roiling feeling that urges her to not accept this. Not to trust.

But she can see the Mandalorian from the corner of her eye, pretending to watch the stars, nervously rubbing the tips of his fingers together and smearing the gritty sand there until it sloughs off and back onto the beach.

Her courage feels like a finite thing, urgently flopping around in her chest like a gasping fish on land. She leans over closer to the Mandalorian, sees his helmet shift but not quite turn fully toward her as she wraps her arms around his bicep, the pauldron on his shoulder cold even through her shirt.

Hugging him feels like a monumental leap, her cheek pressed against the mudhorn sigil on his beskar shoulder. Her courage has waned and she feels weak, vulnerable, but the little pearl clutched in her hand reminds her that it isn't gone for good.

That it is okay to lean into her companion, her friend, who seems like a forever sturdy rock in the storm that has eclipsed her life.

Awkwardly, arms still wrapped around her Mandalorian's arm, she tells him

"Thank you."

Din makes a sound of acknowledgement, smiling gently beneath his helmet and watching her from the corner of his eye. Her face seems content and his chest constricts in pride, to see that he has hopefully earned her trust enough for her to relax in his presence.

"You're not even looking at the stars" she softly accuses, leaning forward to fully grab his attention

"Neither are you" he retorts.

She huffs a small laugh, tilting her head and raising a hand slowly toward the smooth metal cheek of his helmet. She guides him so they are face to face. Sort of.

They stare, her watching the reflection of the stars in the visor of his helmet, wondering just a little if his eyes are bright beneath all this beskar. If he's looking at her as gratefully as she is him.

Din watches her face, unsure about the hand she has on his helmet, but far more distracted with trying to decipher her expression. Joy seems too big, maybe contentment?

Either way, neither one of them is watching the stars turn above them, a precious pearl clutched between them, a symbol of more. Of hope.

[itsgodepi]

If I lose my mind | Ch. 5

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 3k Also on AO3

Reading your own Wikipedia page is quite a strange experience. Paragraph after paragraph of your life written on the internet for everybody to see, from the day you were born all the way to this very moment. 

You do not know if the fact that none of it is true is for better or worse. 

Some parts are accurate, information about your hometown, date of birth, relatives' names and... that’s about it really. According to this biography, not only have you been the runner-up for a Formula 3 championship, but you are also a Formula 2 champion, which is good you guess, for someone that did not even know those kinds of competitions existed. As of two hours ago, Formula One was the only championship with those kinds of cars you had ever heard about, but there are so many. Too many actually. In a section of your page named ‘junior racing career’ —which is in itself a crazy sentence to read—, it even says something about karting’s championships and an academy thing, concepts you are not sure if you want to understand. 

Oh, and the most important part, you are a Formula 1 driver, a statement endlessly repeated throughout the text. They even claim this to be your second year on the motorsport, ‘not a rookie anymore’ they say, as if yesterday’s race was not the first one you have ever watched from start to finish. 

Still, if being pushed into a Formula One car and a whole Wikipedia page was not enough of a confirmation, you can find a million articles online that certify your participation in the sport. Webs filled with photos of you with the cars, dressed in full gear and with that stupid blue helmet, the situation getting worse and worse with every tap of your finger. 

How is any of this possible? 

The rabbit hole that seems to be your ‘life’ keeps you awake night after night, new information slapping you in the face every two minutes while you try to navigate what appears to be a Formula One driver’s normal schedule. Nick makes sure of that last part at least. 

The first step on that agenda had been to fly out of Austria, a place you cannot comprehend how you had arrived to when you were in Spain just yesterday. It is not like you were having the best time of your life there, finishing the third month of your external internship in a city you thought was already too far away from home, but this change looks a bit excessive. The possibility of being in a completely different country had seemed so absurd at first, when a list called Austrian GP came up as one of the top results in your research, and yet with a simple look to the navigation app, your worst nightmare had been confirmed. From your trip to the airport, to the arrival to another country, France, and to a new hotel, Nick walking you through every step of the process and only leaving you alone once you are back in the hotel room. 

The next few days follow a similar dynamic, mornings spent trailing behind Nick without a clue of what happens around you and long nights glued to the phone, the date for the next GP —or whatever they call it— getting closer and closer.  

You are not ready to repeat last Sunday’s events, an engine failure had saved you from the inevitable end, but you might not be so lucky next time. There is no way you are stepping into that car again, that is for sure, and even less so when you have not figured out what brought you here in the first place.  

Although you had drowned yourself in information about your supposed life the first nights in France, the need to discover what was happening to you had quickly managed to overpower that curiosity. From the moment Nick knocks on your door early on the morning to the hours you lay awake on bed looking for anything that could explain this madness, you spend every second of the day looking for an explanation.  

A kidnapping had been the most credible theory from day one, the way you had woken up to all those screams and the men surrounding you, how Nick had come into your hotel room that morning and pushed you to drive with no regard for your safety. It made sense. However, the articles posted all over the internet told a very different story. There is too much information about you, some posts even dating back to when you were a child, photos and videos that cannot be simply edited and uploaded to make you believe you have gone crazy. You have driven a Formula One car on an official race, for crying out loud, that is not something anybody can orchestrate. 

To be honest, the whole Formula One thing had knocked down quite a few of your guesses. What could someone gain from making you, a nobody, believe they are a motorsport driver?   

In fact, the only theory that could easily explain everything that had happened to you in the past few days is that: none of this is real. A dream. You can vividly remember dozing off on your bed, that sensation of falling down and then suddenly waking up in that unfamiliar place. It could be the reason why you had blacked out when the car exited the garage, why everyone knew you, and could also explain the existence of all those false stories on the internet.  

You had made all of this up. 

That had indeed been one of your first assumptions, or at least had been an easy way for your mind to let go of all the worries in such an unnerving situation. If this was not real, there was nothing to stress about, no danger in sight. Your alarm will go off any moment now and you will be one day closer to ending this internship and going back home. Tomorrow will be a new day. 

Despite this, as time goes by, it becomes harder and harder to hold onto this happy thought. 

Stepping foot into the new track is a breaking point. It is Friday, five days have gone by and nothing has changed, the countdown to the next race weighting down on your mind as you walk through what Nick had called the paddock. It is that strange street again, the one lined by those colorful buildings but in a completely different country —another clue that this was indeed not real, you were clearly lacking imagination to be recycling sceneries like this. 

They had brough you here yesterday as well, for a tour around the track that had set your nerves alight. Thankfully, you had done nothing but wander around the circuit for a while, be surrounded by a couple cameras, have a meeting with the engineers and go back to the hotel for another sleepless night.  

Maybe you should sleep more —which sounds quite contradictory when you are supposedly already dreaming— because, when the events of last Sunday start repeating themselves, you do not even have the strength to push back. Nick manages once again to lure you into the white building and prepare you for what he calls practice, but the reality is that just the sight of that Formula One car on the garage makes you heart drop to the pit of your stomach. 

“Don’t worry about times,” a man who has been following you all day says “Let’s see if everything feels good first and we’ll talk things over for FP2”.  

A lot of changes had been made to the car since Austria, that is what all the meetings had been about. You had silently sat down through all of them, nodding along to the engineers’ words as if you understood any of it. 

Now that you are seated in the car, blue helmet and jumpsuit on, you can only wish that whatever broke the car in Austria has not been fixed. That the engine won’t even start, and you will have to retire again. It is hard enough to listen to the rest of the cars exiting their own garages, their engines revving like they might explode.  

How they have managed to put you on the spot yet again, that you do not understand. And it is not only a one-time thing, but they easily make you jump in the car later the day for a second practice. 

When you are finally helped out of the car the second time, body uncontrollably trembling and a static sound filling your ears, you feel an unusual sense of calmness. The whole ride had felt like such a clear sign that none of this is real, it can’t be. Both practices had gone by in the blink of an eye, just like it had happened in Austria, a fade to black and you are back where you started. You do not even remember seeing other cars on the road or how you got back to the garage. Nothing. The only proof that you had driven around for hours being the fatigue consuming your body, something that backs the dreaming theory up so perfectly. 

They say you have done great though, so that is something.  

Nevertheless, it feels nice to be back on normal clothes, like there is less of a target on your back for the cameras and other strangers, but it is still difficult to keep a low profile when you are walking through the paddock with the team’s merchandising. Nick is guiding you out to the last meeting of the day, after you have fulfilled all the media duties and team reunions that have kept you on the track since your arrival this morning. He says this driver’s briefing thing should not last long, that it is quite late already, and they are probably thinking more about going back home than anything.  

The meeting is on another building, one you had not even noticed in your two days here, Nick leading you inside and up some stairs until you find the meeting room. When he opens the door, you realize there is already people seated inside, the sound of their mixed talks now filling the long corridor. You recognize some of them, not from the team meetings but from Austria, other drivers.  

The room is furnished as a classroom, a projector on the right wall and the rest of the space filled with rows of chairs. There are not many people in it yet, Nick had said it would be better to get there early before people start crowding the entrance and now you understood why. Your gaze instantly zeroes in on Lewis, a tiny smile pulling at your lips while Nick guides you to some seats, deciding to leave your things with him and go say hello. You have not seen him since Austria, after you had spent the entire pre-race ceremony talking to him, and now that you have kind of ruled out the possibility that he is a kidnapper, you have realized that maybe he was just being nice. 

Yet, before you can take more than two steps away from Nick, you feel someone pulling at your hand. You come to a sudden stop, looking back to see a man seated in the row in front of you and Nick’s seat regarding you with a huge grin on his lips. He has dark hair and big brown eyes that seem to be staring into your soul. 

“Oh c’mon, you’re not even going to say hello because I didn’t get you cookies last week?” the man chuckles, tilting his head as he looks up at you like he cannot believe what you were about to do “Isn’t that too much?” 

Even though his tone is light and jokey, you cannot help but frown at him. Why would you greet him when you don’t know him in the first place? And why is he holding your hand? 

Instead of letting go when you stand there in silence, too stunned to react to his words, he decides to pull you down into the seat next to his “Didn’t Charles get you some? You are being greedy at this point” he jokes once you are seated, not a word leaving your lips. 

Oh, Charles, you remember him from Austria as well. Actually, he was wearing the same exact red shirt as this man, a detail that the abrupt start of the conversation had left you blind to. The Ferrari logo in both his chest and cap are even more of a telltale of who he must be. Charles’ teammate. 

“They were nice...” you respond, crossing your legs and relaxing back on the chair now that you have gathered your bearings. It is true, you had been munching on those cookies throughout the race after your disqualification, Nick bringing them over to you as a treat to distract you. 

The man shakes his head in disbelief, smile widening as he assures you “I'll get you a full basket next time, don’t worry” 

The promise genuinely makes you smile, he seems nice. 

“How’s the car doing?” the man queries, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks around 

You can almost feel the media training kicking in, pre-made phrases hanging off the tip of your tongue, they have been putting a microphone in your face and asking you about it all morning. Nonetheless, you manage to push it all down, it finally feels like you are having a normal conversation after this stressful week, you are not about to parrot the engineers' words for the millionth time “Well, it hasn’t caught fire yet...”  

The man seems to like that answer, letting out a giggle and a “That’s an improvement” while he nods in understanding. There is a moment of silence that follows, his eyes set on your face as if he was waiting for something that does not come. Is he expecting a more in-depth response or something? Yet, before you can decide on what to do, he finally wills himself to say what he has been thinking ever since you entered the room “So... are you feeling better?”  

The question catches you off guard at first, the conversation taking a more serious turn than you had expected —or wanted. Should you say you are great, just to shut down the topic entirely? The room is filling up with people by the second and it is not like you are about to open your heart to a total stranger. Or are you supposed to give the same response Nick had made you repeat over and over again in front of the journalists? ‘I’m perfectly fine now, it was pure exhaustion’. 

“I’m-” you start saying, mind not really having decided on what lie to tell, when someone pats your head. 

You rise your head to look behind you, both to see who it is and to get away from their touch —what is with this people taking such liberties?—, the man by your side doing the same. Standing tall behind your row of chairs is none other than the man you have spent day and nights thinking about: Daniel. 

“Ready for the two hours briefing?” he sighs with a raised eyebrow, his hand traveling down to your shoulder when you turn your body around to talk to him. This is the first time you have seen the man out of that bright orange jumpsuit, now sporting a shirt of the same color instead, logos drawn all over it. He is still wearing that matching cap though. 

“So dramatic...” the man seated by your side snickers, the previous chat seemingly forgotten “We should do a twenty-four-hour briefing just for you” 

“Mate,” Daniel says with a half-smile, pointing at you with a tilt of his head “she wasn’t here last year” 

That must mean something you do not understand because it is all the man in red needs to groan out loud, his face falling in defeat at the prospect of having to sit through such a long meeting. On the other hand, you can only sit there with your eyebrows furrowed, Nick had assured you would be out of here in no time. And of course you were not here last year, or ever, you have not- but your inner monologue gets suddenly interrupted by the one phrase you have been telling yourself all day: none of this is real, you’re dreaming. 

“What? No, she was driving here last year” another voice joins the conversation, his statement sharp and direct. You lean your body forward to see who it is, he has taken a seat on the other side of the man in red and his body is blocking the stranger’s face, eyes widening when you recognize him. Charles. 

“It was still Mazepin in France, he almost crashed into Kimi remember?” Daniel corrects him with a side grin “She started after the break in... was it Silverstone?” 

Daniel looks at you for confirmation on this one, the other two men also lowering their gaze to yours, waiting. You are so overwhelmed though, it feels so strange, the fact that they are talking so categorically about things that have not ever happened. What is Mazepin? Kimi? And Silverstone? What break? The pressure of the situation getting to you in the worst possible moment. 

So you end up doing what you do best, nod along to whatever the other person says even though you do not understand anything. That is what you have done to the engineers, to the media, to Nick and now to these three men before the start of a briefing that you won’t understand a word of either.  

Afterall, none of this matter, this is only a dream, right? 

Next Chapter

___

Author's note: Thanks a lot for all the hearts, comments and everything! I'm so happy you're liking the fic

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin

[whousestypewriters]

i don't even know your name - jameson hawthorne x reader

pairing: jameson hawthorne x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, kissing + like running away from the police

a/n: hehe my first tig fic! and my first on this account. i had this little idea at exactly 12:26am in the middle of revamping this blog and wanted to write it i shouldve gone to bed, so sorry if this is crap - sleep deprivation is reallll. its also unedited-

part two: you again??

ok so technically you did steal a car.

but come on, the seven police cars driving after you is just a little bit excessive. especially since its not even a decent car... from a junkyard - which to be honest you're still surprised it even started. no even cares about the damn thing except for you and the junkyard owner who apparently has a vendetta against you.

you've met the guy twice, he's a stinky old man who spends most of his days wasted and drunk. and he's never once paid attention to you sneaking in and out basically living in the car you've just stolen. sorry, borrowed.

the red and blue flashing lights bring you back to your current situation and you wince when you shift gears and swing almost violently around the corner into oncoming traffic. swerving around the honking cars and bright lights you manage to merge back into the right lanes and push forward trying to put distance between you and the cops.

you slip through the cars not even caring about the other people at this point. you just need this car. getting a job these days is harder then it seems and you'd just been offered a job with really good pay and the only requirement was you needed your own car to get to and from work.

so seeing as you're an eighteen year old homeless girl with little to no money, temporarily borrowing this car seemed like a really good idea - until it wasn't of course.

pulling over on the side of the road you decide to abandon the car and try to get away on foot - you can always catch the bus right? following the flow of the crowd you swirl your way through checking over your shoulder every few seconds, not even noticing the fact that you've gone up steps and entered a large line until the security guard calls out to you.

"hey kid! ticket?" swinging around you look up to the stern guard.

"pardon?"

"where's your ticket?"

"oh..." you trail off and the guard steps forward.

"miss, do you have a ticket?"

"....no?"

stepping forward the guard starts to reach for his gun. "miss i'm going to need to ask you to leave."

looking behind you, you try and work out your best escape route from the now approaching police men and the menacing guard at your back.

"uh yeah i'm leaving now," you say swinging around and slipping under the guard and bolting through the doors.

you enter probably the grandest entry room ever. its like straight out of a movie with the grand staircases and people in elegant clothing, unfortunately you don't get much time to admire everything with security and police on your ass.

pushing past the shrieking guests aside you run through the crowd to the next room, straight into the middle of... a dinner party.

great.

this is just great.

"GET HER!" the one of the policemen yells from behind you. you take off again rushing past women in fancy dresses and men in tuxes trying your very best not to step on any of their outfits - because hey, you may be homeless dressed like a middle aged man, but damnit you can appreciate a good outfit.

running into a hallway you panic slightly, choosing a random door and slamming it shut. trying to get ahold of your breath you close your eyes and rest your head against the door, taking deep breaths.

a throat clears from behind you and you practically jump out of your skin.

"hello."

"holy shit! doesn't anybody knock these days??" you shriek.

you look around the office trying to find the owner of the voice but to no avail. the office seemed plain enough a large plush chair behind a mahogany desk with sofas and book shelves adorning the sides of the wall.

"hello?" you look around the office again, bending down to check under the desk.

"look up," the voice comes again.

looking up you see the shadow of a boy sitting on the overhanging ledge of the bookshelf.

"who are you?" you ask eyeing the door and wondering if you still have enough time to get away before the police arrive.

"i think we should really be focusing more on you." the boy's voice vibrates through the room. he leans forward to the point of almost falling off the edge but somehow still staying on.

"i'm not important," you say, then motion up to him. "you'll fall."

"i can assure you i won't." for a moment the boy just lingers there before launching himself off the bookshelf and landing on the floor in front of you. "and besides you've piqued my interest." he strolls over to the desk and casually leans against it as if he wasn't a freaking godlike person.

seriously that bookshelf had to be at least three and a half meters tall!

the boy - now that you can see him better - is also godlike in his looks. its devastating how handsome he is. he's around your age with soft brown hair that seemed to be styled when the night began and had fallen across his forehead and his eyes. his eyes were like emeralds sparkling in the moonlight. suddenly you're favourite colour is green.

"now tell me again, who are you?" he grins - its an awful grin, the type that makes you want to die because its so beautiful.

swallowing the lump that formed in your throat you push the words out. "as i said, that's not important. what is important is that you forget you ever saw me."

the boy raises an eyebrow flashing another grin. "i'm afraid i can't do that."

"why?"

"because you are quiet unforgettable."

you freeze for a moment, then roll your eyes. "is that what you tell every girl who barges into a room to hide?"

"ahh so you're hiding?"

clenching your jaw at that slight bit of information you let slip, you nod.

"from?"

"who do you think jackass? i'm dressed like a 1950's street urchin and just crashed probably the most fancy dinner party i'll ever see, so really, who do you think i'm hiding from? fucking peppa pig?"

a loud bang comes from down the hall and you swing around wishing you had ran instead of talking to the mystery boy.

"come here." his voice snaps you out of your panic.

"what?"

"come here, you don't want to be caught? get over here."

narrowing your eyes at him you move closer to him. "what are you gonna do?"

he stares at you for a moment. "can i touch you?"

"WHAT?"

"not like that, god. that's where your mind went? no. i was just being respectful before i kissed you."

that you pause at. "you're going to kiss me?"

"well, with your permission of course."

"you don't have it."

the boy pouts playfully. "why not?"

"because believe it or not, crashing dinner parties and kissing random strangers who's names i don't know isn't something i do on a regular basis."

"well if you don't want to get caught...." he trails off.

"ew so what if i kiss you, you won't give me up? you think you're that good do you?"

"sweetheart, i am that good."

"not helping your case."

"if i kiss you it hides your face, none of them would ever try and cross me," the boy offers grinning again - does he ever stop smiling? seriously its harmful to look at someone this good looking for this amount of time.

"cause you're just that good right?"

"you're a quick learner."

the commotion from outside comes closer and you tense up weighing your options. goddamnit you're gonna have to kiss him.

"fine you have my permission," you huff. "just don't rat me out."

"i would never."

the police must have reached your door because they knock twice asking if someone is inside that they come out now.

"fucking hell," you mutter. "i cannot believe i'm doing this. i don't even know your name."

"don't worry you're in good hands," the boy says his voice low. he wraps his arms around your waist looking at you to make sure its okay.

"if you don't come out now we're coming in!" the voice from outside yells banging against the door twice more.

"by the way, the names jameson," the boy says before he seals his lips to yours and the door is ripped open with men pouring in.

but you hardly notice it. the boy's - jameson as he called himself - lips are warm as the press into yours. its soft but searing sending tingles through your brain. every thought or protest you had fell out of your head and your hands shoot up into his hair as he tightens is own arms around you.

you're so lost in the kiss you don't even hear the men behind you clearing their throats awkwardly.

pulling away jameson looks at you for a moment seemingly just as stunned as you are before he pulls your head to his chest and rests a hand on the back of your hair keeping your face hidden.

"yes?"

"have you seen a girl; brunette, around your age, wearing a black cocktail dress run through here or past here?" one of the officers asks avoiding eye contact.

"what did you say she was wearing again?" jameson asks.

"a black cocktail dress." these are like the worst policemen ever.

"well... yes-" you tense, this is it. this is where he rats you out, motherfuc-"but she went down the hall and through to the ballroom probably hiding in the crowd."

nodding each of the policemen leave the room and storm their way down the hallway. "uh sorry about interrupting you two as well," the last one says on his way out.

when its safe you pull back from jameson and thank him.

"its not over yet," he grins - seriously who decided he should be this handsome? and takes your hand leading you out the room and down the hallway. "follow me."

you slip out through the now empty entryway and run down the stairs together. this feels suspiciously like a romance novel. when you reach the steps you pull jameson to a stop. "wait don't you have to go to this dinner thing?"

"if it means not spending time with you, i'm okay with missing it," he winks.

"nope, you're not trying to flirt your way into being an outlaw with me," you tease.

"it was worth a shot."

smiling up at the boy who let you go free tonight you reach up on your tip toes and place a soft kiss on his cheek. "i'll be seeing ya jameson."

you slip out into the night leaving jameson on the steps. leaving behind the dangerous feeling that you could lose your heart to that boy.

at least you won't see him again.

[taglist] @nqds, @nuncscioquidsitamor-14, @lxvebelle [if you wanted to be added or removed lemme know!]

a/n pt2: i hope you liked it!!

[clove-pinks]

I was searching for a popular medical guide that a layperson might use in the very early 19th century, and found William Buchan's Domestic Medicine, in the seventeenth edition of 1801.

This is very much the age of so-called "heroic" remedies: blood-letting, enemas, and purgatives. And while Domestic Medicine contains a predictable amount of this kind of advice, I was surprised at a few observations. Rising rates of tuberculosis in England are blamed on air pollution specifically: "the great quantity of pit-coal which is there burnt." And while you will sometimes read about later 19th century people assuming the disease is hereditary and not contagious, the 1801 Domestic Medicine blames "Infection. Consumptions are likewise caught by sleeping with the diseased; for which reason this should be carefully avoided."

There is a warning against sending children to school too young, having excessive schoolwork heaped on them at a young age: "the poor child is fixed to a seat seven or eight hours a day, which time ought to be spent in exercise and diversions." And contagion comes up again:

Children are much injured by being kept in crowds within doors; their breathing not only renders the place unwholesome, but if any one of them happens to be diseased, the rest catch the infection. A single child has been often known to communicate the bloody flux, the hooping cough, the itch, or other diseases, to almost every individual in a numerous school.

Acknowledging that children will still be sent to school, the writer pleads for them to be allowed "to run about and play at such active diversions as may promote their growth, and strengthen their constitutions."

It's fascinating to see the complexity of attitudes in this time period. There's a sexist bit about how education is bad for girls followed by a condemnation of child labour in the new industrial economy.

[badgallly]

The Chosen One Part 6

Hello my loves, how are you? It took me a while to post part 6 but here it is finally. Hope you like it ! Sorry for the mistakes, English is not my first language. stay safe and enjoy! xoxo <3 Note: I put Neymar and Messi as if they were still at PSG ;)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

7:00 AM

I finish closing my suitcase, phew… I had to put a lot of clothes in there, I went Blair Waldorf and put my best clothes in my suitcase, I know it's excessive for 3 days but after all I've never been to New York before, and it's not every day you go to New York, much less go to NY with Kylian Mbappé, right?

Kylian… after everything that happened yesterday I couldn't help but forgive him, he seemed sincere with his words:

Flashback:

_My intention was never to scare you. I know I was stupid earlier and I've already apologized, despite knowing you for 2 days I think you're a strong and warrior woman. I know I'm being repetitive, but it was because I regretted it before. But I want you to accept my apology, please. I don't want to fight with you tomorrow about the trip Y/n, you are a very delicate flower and I hurt you, I'm sorry?

'Very delicate flower' he said…I catch myself smiling remembering those words, no one has ever praised me with such sincerity. Kylian continues to be an unknown to me, after all, was he the calm or the storm?

In the midst of my thoughts I feel a hand on my shoulder and a voice that I immediately recognized:

_ y/n?? All good ? I get a little scared and see Kylian standing in front of me analyzing my expressions. _ What a scare Kylian, I'm fine. _ is ready? I nodded. So let's go down I have a meeting today I can't be late. _ I agree and pull my suitcase and follow Kylian down the stairs.

Time break

We arrive at the heliport and I see a luxurious jet in the distance, Kylian suddenly takes my hand and smiles which makes my heart speed up a little, I smile back and he guides me to the luxurious jet.

I go in and I'm impressed, I've never been to one before. I've been with millionaire men but none of them introduced me to their luxurious lives and their daily lives. I'm at the door, paralyzed and open-mouthed at the same time, analyzing every detail of refinement and great taste. I feel Kylian's hand going down to my waist and approaching my ear: _Did you like it? I feel goosebumps running through my body at the sudden action: _Yes, it is very beautiful and elegant! I say smiling and looking at Kylian who smiles slightly.

Time Break 3:00 PM

The trip was great and peaceful. It was an 8 hour journey, but everything went well. In the first few hours Kylian and I talked a little, then we ended up sleeping for the rest of the trip.

Right now I'm in the hotel room taking my different clothes out of the suitcase (yes, I exaggerated a little), Kylian appears at the door on the phone:

_Yes, confirmed! At night I will be present and I want a table next to me, as I will be accompanied by a lady. Until later! –y/n I'm going to an important meeting now, but first I want you to get ready and ready at 7:00 pm, remember that team party I told you about? — I nod. Yes, I remember. —So, be ready, okay? Until later! I sign again

Until! Oh my God, I only have 4 hours to get ready? So I have to start soon. I'm going to start doing my nails, I have a lot of work ahead of me…

19:00 I finish putting on the second pair of my earrings. I'm ready! I'm wearing a long black dress with a slit on the leg, I chose it because it's elegant and sexy at the same time, plus it fits like a glove on my body. I admire myself in the mirror and take some photos when I hear footsteps approaching.

I turn around and see Kylian looking at me from head to toe. I blush when I see him looking at me like that.

_You look stunning y/n. _Thank you Kylian. I smile still blushing He extends his arm to me: -let's go ? I nod and take his arm going down the stairs.

Time break

19:40

We just arrived at the event, it's a private team party but there are still lots of paparazzi and people at the door. Kylian holds my hand and we get out of the car. Several flashes are pointed at us –Kylian Kylian! The public and paparazzi scream thirstily for a photo of Kylian, who just waves at them, flashes are also thrown at me. When I suddenly see a little boy coming out of the crowd running towards Kylian with a PSG shirt in his little hands and then I see the security guard holding him and scolding him: —Get out, stupid boy! The brute man says shouting at the little boy he looks sad and with tears in his eyes. I immediately let go of Kylian's hand and shout:

_Hey! Release him and leave him alone! The security guard is scared by my attitude and immediately releases the little boy. I take his small hands and take him to Kylian:

–Hey calm down. I wipe your tears, let's sign this shirt, hmm? The little boy smiles looking into my eyes.

Kylian is standing there looking at the whole situation and gives a smile looking at me and then at the little boy. He signs the shirt, talks, takes photos and hugs the little boy. The little boy hugs me too and is soon called by his mother who thanks me:

–thank you miss! It was his dream, may God bless you!

_it was nothing! Thanks! I smile at his words. Kylian takes my hand again and we enter the room.

_Your attitude is very sweet, y/n, you made that little boy’s day.

_thank you, Kylian. I blush lightly Kylian continues eye contact deep into my eyes until a voice breaks us out of our trance:

_ heyyy brother! A dark-haired man greets Kylian and hugs him hey bro! _ Achraf this is y/n, y/n this is Achraf Hakimi. _ Nice! - we say in unison, greeting each other. Kylian holds my waist and introduces me to his other teammates. He takes me to say hello to the last player with his back turned. _ Hey Neymar! When I hear that name my heart stops and my legs feel weak.

Neymar Neymar was a regular visitor to the club I work for, and he was once my client. He didn't want anything to do with the other girls as soon as he saw me, I became his number 1 girl. He visited twice a week, even though I didn't want to, he paid a lot of dollars for me and I couldn't refuse because it was already helping to pay off the debt I have at the club. Over the course of his visits to the club we became confidants, he told me about his day to day life and I told him my whole story. He offered me several times to pay my debt and get me out of there, but I wanted to do it myself, and I also didn't want Neymar to get involved in this, there are dark things behind this club and I wouldn't want to get him involved. However, he took a break from visiting the club, due to personal problems and injuries he acquired in matches that required care.

_ heyy bro! He turns around and greets Kylian _ I want to introduce you to someone. Y/N I think you already know Neymar.

_neymar this is y/n. as soon as Neymar sets eyes on me, he becomes static and nervous, just like me. I just hope he pretends he doesn't know me.

_my pleasure y/n! says Neymar, stuttering, he greets me with cold hands and pretends to be normal.

_ Pleasure! I say looking away. _ kylian, I'm going to get a drink, I'll be right back! says Neymar, clearly uncomfortable. It goes off like a rocket. _What strange Neymar did you see? Strange…

_I think it's nothing, he just wants to drink earlier to enjoy the night. I say disguising _ it must be. But changing the subject, you look beautiful, y/n, this dress looks perfect on you! _thank you kylian! I look away, looking at the floor. During the party I met other people and some of the players' wives, at this moment I was talking to Antonella, Messi's wife, who is very friendly and nice. I take some selfies and see that I need to touch up my makeup.

I ask Antonella for permission, and I see Kylian with his friends near the bathroom, as soon as he sees me he gives me a wink and I return it with a smile, I go into the bathroom and touch up my lipstick and makeup. As I leave the bathroom I hear a conversation between some men, even though the sound is loud I can still hear the men's conversation and I immediately recognize Kylian's voice:

–Your new girl is hot bro – true, where did the big boy find this cat? – probably another passer of time for Kylian, right brother? His heart is just one and it's called 'rose'. Says a voice that I recognize as Achraf's.

That name ROSE echoes through my head again, I hear Kylian laughing, which just gives me a lump in my throat and a tightness in my heart. I decide to continue walking out of the bathroom when I bump into a very pretty blonde woman.

_look if it's not destiny, then are you Kylian's new 'hobby'?

_who are you?

TO BE CONTINUED…

[absolutebloodychaos]

Since you wanted a suggestion for a fic, here you go:

What about the Nordic tour of Joker Out, Bojere's reunion and the rest of JO is just very annoyed and give them shit for being all lovey-dovey (in a humourous way, though)

Maybe some cute Jance moments

Something fluffy would be nice ^^

Or, if you're up to that, a story about Bojere/Jance (you can choose) in which both are ace? That would be lovely!

Thanks anon heaps for the prompt, I had a great time writing this and I hope this is what you were looking for:)

If any facts don't line up it's cause with all the stuff happening in this fandom even though the Nordic tour was only like a month ago I can't really remember it very well😅

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

“BOJAAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!!!!!!”

That was the first noise that the members of Joker Out heard come from Jere when they finally reunited in Finland before the Tavastia gig.

After the scream they then saw their singer and their Finnish friend run towards each other rom-com style across the room and Jere straight up jump into Bojan’s arms.

What followed was a good few minutes of kisses passed between the two men, to the point at which the other members of the band were starting to question if they should leave the room to give the two men privacy, before they finally pulled apart and Jere came over to greet his other Slovenian friends.

“Hei, Joker men, long time no see” Jere said before receiving long hugs from each of the taller men.

Kris, Jure, Jan and Nace were glad to see their friend again after Eurovision, and were very excited to spend more time with him in the next few days ahead.

After that greeting though Bojan didn’t leave his side for the rest of the night, only parting when it was time to go on stage.

As soon as the show was over though they were glued back together and stayed less than three feet apart until it was time to leave the venue.

The others teased him about it thoroughly as they had throughout the months leading up to this day every time the singer brought up his boyfriend (which was very frequently), but deep down they were very happy for their singer to be back with the man he loved.

The rest of the night was spent catching up with their friend and his crew, and the other men spent a lot of it talking to Häärijä who they made fast friends with.

Bojan and Jere disappeared at the end of the day to catch up in other ways and the other Joker Out guys were glad that the couple were spending the night at Jere’s house instead of in an adjoining hotel room as that was what usually happened.

It was then time to get a good night's sleep before the events of tomorrow, and considering their friends, they knew that they were probably going to need it.

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

The tour bus was nice. The guys loved the tour bus. 

Well, maybe not loved the tour bus as it was quite a small space and they were all relatively tall men, but they did like the tour bus.

Usually.

Right now, the only people seeming to like the tour bus were Bojan and Jere, who were messing around together, singing random turbofolk songs and making stupid TikToks.

And it wasn’t like the rest of the boys didn’t love Bojan and Jere, they all had a deep love in their hearts for their singer and strange Finnish friend.

It was just that since the other men had started their long awaited reunion, they had been insufferable.

Well maybe not insufferable, but they had been all over each other, the combined forces of both of their extroverted personalities causing absolute chaos, and of course having overly excessive amounts of PDA 24/7.

Which again wouldn’t have been that bad if it weren’t for their original problem, the fact that they were all stuck in a tour bus.

Said bus felt small enough due to the other members of the band’s physical size, along with the size of the personalities that the shorter men of the group had.

So understandably, Jure, Kris, Nace and Jan felt a little bit like they were going up the wall. 

Well maybe a bit more than a little bit.

The next time they got off the bus, all members of the band relished the chance to stretch their legs (and get away from the happy couple).

Lucky for them though, the minute the bus stopped, Jere and Bojan left to have some time alone before they had to continue the rest of the journey.

They came back fifteen minutes later with swollen lips and crumpled clothes and the others decided for the sake of their sanity not to question them about it.

Then it was back to the bus, for another few hours of Ivica Buzuk and sickeningly sweet flirting between the Finnish and Slovenian man.

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

Things quieted down a little once they got to the venue for that night's gig in Turku, and they had a nice few hours to relax before it was time to set up for the gig.

Jan and Nace had disappeared off somewhere to do whatever it was they usually did together when not around the others, so it was Kris and Jure who were left with Bojan and Jere.

Bojan and Jere who had seemingly no qualms about openly making out in the same room as their friends, which made it quite awkward for the taller men.

“Um guys, dudes, guys, could you possibly please take it somewhere else?” Jure asked politely but neither man moved, they were too caught up in each other.

“Bojan, Jere, stop sucking face and get a fucking room,” Kris more or less shouted, less politely, and that got the other men’s attention.

“Oh yeah, sure, sorry dude,” Bojan said with a dazed look on his face before standing up on shaky legs, taking Jere’s hand and leading him out of the room.

“Oh my god, I swear they are driving me insane,” Kris said exasperatedly. 

“I know, I swear I can’t stand being a third wheel for another day,” Jure said, running a hand through his hair.

At least you have someone to go home to, I’m just as much a third wheel here with these two as I am at home with the rest of you, Kris thought somewhat bitterly.

But he didn’t say that, he kept on bitching with Jure about Bojan and Jere until Jan and Nace came back an hour later looking well somethinged and then started to tease them instead.

That continued for a while until it was time for set up and soundcheck and there were more important things to do than keep teasing the other men.

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

The goodbye was somewhat of a painful one, and the Slovenian men would miss their Finnish friend dearly but they couldn’t wait to get back on home soil and away from the lovey-dovey behaviour of their friends.

All in all though, it had been a nice tour and they were excited to come back to Finland again in the future, although hopefully next time with a bigger mode of transport or extra space for the couple to be coupley away from the others.

[lovedrunkheadcanons]

Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on Ao3

Rated M

That night, Hannah dreamed she was drowning in a sea of red. Twenty-six little hands pulling her down, down, down, far below the surface until her lungs gave out and she woke up, heart racing, throat dry, clutching her chest to feel it was still beating. A dream, thank God it was only a dream, she thought. But the crinkling of tatami startled her anew and she froze to catch sight of a dark, slender figure gliding across the walls, silhouetted by the amber glow of the lanterns left burning in the hallway. She watched it stumble over a few times, curse under its breath, then emit a sickly groan followed by a cough. She heard the neighboring shoji slide open and close with a “twack,” then the dragging of footsteps, and then finally silence.

Hannah sat there in the dim, attempting to quell her frantically beating heart. She’d made the connection.

Satoru was home from his mission.

As a consequence, the young wife had trouble going back to sleep, tossing and turning on the floor till colorless sunlight filtered through the paper walls. Come morning, Hannah waited for the sound of his footsteps to head their way over to breakfast, but her ears only caught early birdsong and the clattering of dishes. The smell of grilled fish and sesame oil permeated the air. Makoto said breakfast would be ready around eight. It was already a quarter past. Her stomach growling, Hannah rose from her futon to get dressed, opting to wear her old blouse and jeans that were hidden at the bottom of a drawer. She hardly made a dent in her new closet yesterday; trying things on, walking in them, sorting clothes in either a “keep” or “storage” pile. It was a bit ridiculous really. All of them, even the simple frocks, felt too impractical for ordinary life, minus the heels and jewels. Once fully clothed in her usual attire, Hannah plaited a top layer of hair, leaving the remainder to drape down her shoulders, and wordlessly peeped behind her bedroom door, anticipating at any given moment for her obnoxiously handsome neighbor to emerge from the other side. Again, nothing. Perhaps he was already eating without her. Hoping this were true, Hannah parted her door and followed the tantalizing scent of grilled foods to a parlor where Makoto was busy setting fine China on a table. Her kimono was a rejuvenating key-lime green.

“Ohayo, Hannah-sama,” she greeted warmly, placing a pair of chopsticks on the chabudai. “Please, do sit down. I was just about to serve the beef.”

Rubbing the vestiges of sleep from her eyes, Hannah whispered her own “good morning” and knelt at the table.  

“Orange juice?” Makoto held a pitcher of the succulent drink.

“Yes, thank you,” Hannah said with a smile, and separated the lid from a steaming rice bowl, tilting it just a smidge so the excess water didn’t drip off the rim. Makoto poured her a cup of orange juice and disappeared to bring the meat as promised, while Hannah uncovered one dish after the other. Looking at the meal, one would think the housekeeper was trying to outdo herself. Last night’s dinner had been nothing short of delicious; fresh edamame, duck gyoza, and black cod served with miso-yuzu sauce and a slice of raspberry cheesecake for dessert. But for breakfast it was soft-boiled eggs and grilled sweetfish peppered with sansho, along with white rice and cutlets of roast beef. One thing was certain. Makoto’s cooking put the master chefs at Wasserton to shame. Crazy to think Satoru got to eat like this every day.

Speaking of which, he had yet to show. The other side of the table was vacant. 

“Is Satoru not joining us?” Hannah asked.

Makoto’s face suddenly turned grey as she placed the beef tenderloin on the table. “The young master isn’t feeling well this morning.”

“Really?” Hannah blinked, wide awake now. “He’s sick?”

“No, not exactly,” the housekeeper brought a hand to her temple, “It’s migraines, ma’am. Nasty ones. Sometimes they confine him to his bed for a few hours or more.”

“I see,” Hannah replied, turning over her shoulder to peer down the hallway. “Will he be alright?”

“Hmm?” The housekeeper looked up from a teapot. “Oh yes, ma’am. He’ll make a complete recovery. It’s just...” She removed the steeped tea leaves from the pot and wrung her hands together. “Well, as luck would have it, I forgot to buy Bufferin tablets last week,” her cheeks grew red, “there the only thing that helps with the pain, but I hate to leave the young master unattended in case anything were to happen, so…” She was trying to ask for something but was uncomfortable saying it out loud. Hannnah voiced it for her.

“I could watch him for you.”

“What?” She shook her head vehemently, wishing she hadn’t implied anything. “Oh, no, ma’am. I couldn’t possibly expect you to do that.”

“It wouldn’t be for very long.”

“No, no, no, ma’am. You’re the lady of the house. I simply couldn’t.”

This polite banter went on for another two minutes, Hannah offering her services, Makoto kindly refusing them, but the mistress eventually put her foot down and said very plainly, “I’m his wife, aren’t I?” and that was the end of it.

When breakfast was finished and dishes washed, Makoto departed for the pharmacy, while Hannah went into the kitchens in search of a small bowl, a tray, and a wash rag. Finding everything rather quickly, she filled the bowl with cool water and folded the cloth in half on the tray. Amidst her pillorying, she stumbled upon Makoto’s spice cabinet; cinnamon, saffron, thyme, and countless other seasonings meticulously labeled on glass bottles. A mauve colored spice seized her attention immediately next to the oregano. Aha, there you are. She happily took the jar and poured a tablespoon into an empty tea sachet, tightening the drawstring so it would hold. She gave it a light sniff; The perfect amount.

Adding the bag to her loot, she wiped her hands on her jeans and with a silent prayer lifted the silver platter off the countertop and walked down the hall towards Satoru’s bedroom. The distance felt like a mile. Quietly as possible, she placed the tray on the straw matting and rapped her knuckles on his door three times.

“What is it?” came a groggy voice.

Hannah took a deep breath.

“It’s me,” she bit her lip, afraid of saying the wrong thing. “Can I come in?”

There was a pause before she received an answer.

“Enter,” the voice said.

Hannah slid open the shoji and picked up the tray, noticing her ears pop as she walked through. Must have something to do with the incantation Makoto mentioned yesterday, she thought. His room was sealed in the same magic.

The layout was similar to hers, clean and sparse, not too many furnishings, but rather than purple paulownia trees, the bedroom walls were forested in green pines and sloping mountainscapes with quaint Buddhist temples tucked away in the clouds; a heavenly realm. However, the cardboard cutouts of voluptuous bikini models, winking and blowing invisible kisses, distracted from this sacred space. Apparently marriage hadn’t encouraged Satoru to get rid of them. A bit flustered at never having ventured inside a man’s bedroom, Hannah’s eyes sought the wide screen TV hooked to a gaming console, and two large bookshelves stored with volumes of manga she would later learn were Fullmetal Alchemist and One Piece (and strangely enough, C’mon Digimon), plus gobs and gobs of movies and video games. And then finally there was Satoru himself, looking worse for wear on a lone king-sized mattress.

He craned his neck. “Where’s Makoto?”

Hannah balanced the tray, ignoring the fact that he was likely shirtless underneath those bedsheets. “She left to fetch you some medicine.” Her eyes scanned the room for a spot. “Is it alright if I set this down?

Noticing the tray, Satoru draped a bare arm over his eyes and lazily motioned with his other hand for her to come closer. Hannah approached and situated the tray on the nightstand. The Six Eyes wielder expected her at that point to say her goodbyes and leave. Instead his ears detected the sound of water being squeezed from a washcloth. His side of the bed dipped. He raised his elbow to see Hannah sitting on the edge of the mattress, holding out the wet rag for him.

“May I?”

He wanted to tell her to get out, that he didn’t need to be babied, but his head throbbed as though shrapnel was lodged somewhere deep inside his cerebellum and eye sockets, hitting a jackpot of nerves. The mission had been successful, a semi-grade 1 Curse reported in Daisen, but he’d gone a full 72 hours without sufficient rest and was now paying the price. His eyes ached like sore muscles. Everything was too fucking bright, too colorful. And his stomach. His stomach felt worse than it’d been in years, like someone had sawed it in half. So without further protest, Satoru’s elbow fell to his side, granting Hannah silent permission to press the damp cloth to his forehead. Then he felt fingers comb through his hair and immediately jerked away.

“What're you — ”

“Where does it hurt most?” she said gently.

The newlyweds stared into each other for a tense moment, turquoise blue colliding with moss brown. One more, she had him in a corner. He accepted defeat.

“At the back, around my neck.”

Carefully and stealthily, Hannah wedged her dainty fingers between the pillow to cradle his aching skull and began working circles into the skin, massaging the area where his neck and head connected. He closed his eyes and exhaled an alleviated sigh, her hands brushing back his hair. If he were a cat, surely he’d be purring like a kitten right then.

“It’s the Six Eyes, isn’t it?” he heard her say as she stroked. “That’s what causes them?”

Blood warmed his cheeks. “Yeah.”

“Are they always this bad?”

“No.” He tipped his head so she could get the left side. “Haven’t been for a while.”

Hannah nodded in understanding. His hair was pleasantly soft to touch. “I get headaches too,” she said. “On days when I don’t get enough sleep.” He let out a grunt, keeping his eyes closed. She reached for the sachet on the tray. “Here, try this.”

He opened one eye. “What is it? Another olive twig?”

She smiled. Almost got her to laugh.

Almost.

“Not quite. It’s lavender. If you hold it to your nose, it can help relieve headaches.” He gave the bag a whiff, dubious of the claim. Satoru liked incense, but wasn’t fond of essential oils or aromatherapy, believing the fad a hoax. Although, the throbbing dissipated somewhat as he breathed in the lavender. She continued massaging his head. “I need to thank you again,” she added, feeling her way towards the edges of his scalp. “For the clothes, the room, everything. Your home is beautiful.”

Satoru couldn’t help but snort. “You mean it’s old,” He brought the lavender to his chest. “There’s no air conditioning or furnace. It gets hot as hell come August, and in winter it’s fucking freezing.”

Hannah’s fingers reached his neck. “I can imagine.”

Her smile made the pulsing abade. She was nice to look at. However, just as she removed the wet compress to dip and resoak it, the throbbing nerves came back with avengement, twisting and clamping around him like iron jaws, closing tighter and tighter, until he registered a sharp, shooting pain emanating behind his retinas and a flash of white. He hissed loudly, feeling the jaws sink into his teeth, his neck, on his shoulders. The contents in his stomach lurched and Satoru abruptly sat upright, hand over mouth, alarm in his eyes. Fuckin’ hell.

Hannah saw he was scrambling for a basin at the foot of the bed, but it was too far away for him to reach. He wasn’t going to make it. Quickly, she sprung into action and seized the bowl, holding it in front of him as he forfeited whatever little food he ate that morning and possibly last night. She rested him on his side, making it easier for him to vomit and hold the porcelain at the same time.

“Shh, you’re alright,” she soothed, leaning beside him and rubbing his upper back. “Easy now.”

Satoru groaned and spat into the bowl, conscientious of the fact that he hadn’t showered since his return. She was too close. He probably wreaked of sweat and Curse fodder. Acid burned the back of his throat, coating his breath. The nausea lingered in his stomach. He felt like complete and utter shit. Weak. Pathetic. Perhaps this was fate demanding retribution.

Sorcerers like to convince themselves that because they're gifted, it means they’re invincible, and certainly Satoru had bought into the lie a couple times; The first wielder born with the Six Eyes in 400 years, able to pulverize his enemies with the flick of a finger, but Satoru wasn’t blind to power. Deep down he knew the truth. He was human, not a god. And never had he felt more human than lying on that bed, puking his guts out.    

He shut his eyes, waiting for the nausea to pass, and was gently eased into the mattress. The damp cloth was placed on his forehead and he cranked an eye open to see Hannah rise from the bed, “I’ll be right back,” she said and walked out of the room with the basin in her arms. Satoru wasn’t sure how much time elapsed, but when she reentered she was carrying the (clean) basin, along with a glass of fresh water, some stomach tablets, and a new washcloth. Leaving the shoji ajar, she returned to his bedside and offered him the water and tablets. “Would you like to brush your teeth or anything?” He shook his head no, and didn’t fight her when she began wiping his mouth. It then occurred to him that she’s done this before. She had sat at someone else’s side, wiping vomit off their lips, handing out water and medicine, but where? How? Who?

He felt ill again, though not from the headache. Here he was, sick as a dog, fantasizing about all the different ways he wanted to fuck her the other night and not once taking into account her feelings, caring only about his ulterior motives, his desires, his burdens. Satoru told himself she wasn’t a prisoner, that he just wanted the teaching job, but now the birds were coming home to roost and so too were the weight of his actions. Hannah wasn’t merely innocent. She was also a genuinely good person and he, a selfish person, had trapped her here like a helpless animal with no way out. For a lump sum of four billion yen. He wanted to hide his face, but couldn’t. She was too close.

Hannah wore her hair half-down. Six Eyes could distinguish between the gold, brown, and red strands fanned across her shoulders, lush and shiny, a natural curl accentuating the ends. It helped capture her foreign features; the minuscule freckles dotting her nose. Her Cupid’s bow mouth and fair cheeks, flushing prettily in the light. Man, she was gorgeous. What was the phrase they used in her home country again? Ah, yes, an “English rose.” That’s it. She was an English rose. Satoru had to remind himself to keep his eyes fixated elsewhere, otherwise he’d have “bigger” things to worry about. Fabric was the easiest to see through and she was literally sitting over him, her chest front and center. Could’ve also been the mind splitting headache, or the fact she just spared Makoto the trouble of having to clean vomit off his bedsheets, but he chose that moment to extend his own olive branch. She deserved that much.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, wincing in pain from the sound of his voice. “I know you must think I’m an asshole. Probably makes you regret changing your name and stuff, huh?”

Her hand returned to his head. “Shh, don’t speak. Talking will only make it worse.”

“It’s okay,” He ignored her advice. “You can hate me if you want. I won’t blame you. After all, it’s my fault for getting you involved in this Ponzi scheme. If I could do things over again, know that I would.”

The English rose tilted her head sideways. “I wouldn’t necessarily call it a Ponzi scheme,” she whispered, corners of her mouth twitching. “In fact, from a purely objective standpoint, I’d say I’ve made quite the return on investment.”

Satoru scowled at the joke. “Except for your freedom, which I’ve single handedly stolen from you.”

Hannah shared with him a broken smile. It was his turn to be naive. “You can’t steal something that was never there, Satoru,” she said poignantly. “Accidents like me aren't meant to have freedom.” She pulled the covers up over him. “Now, get some rest. Makoto will be back soon with the Bufferin.”

“But I —“

“Shh.” Her fingers ran through his gossamer hair, enticing him to close his eyes. “Go to sleep, Satoru.”

She sat there with him, massaging his head until his eyelids drooped and his steady breathing lulled into soft snores, out like a light. He must’ve been exhausted. After checking to see he was asleep, Hannah gathered the tray and whatever else she brought and quietly left the world’s strongest sorcerer to dream. He would not wake for the remainder of the day.

Chapter Contents

[colonoscopycostsingapore]

Colonoscopy Aftercare: Tips for a Smooth Recovery in Singapore

Undergoing a colonoscopy is an essential medical procedure that allows for the detection and prevention of colon cancer. After the procedure, it is crucial to prioritize proper aftercare to ensure a smooth recovery. In Singapore, where healthcare standards are high, individuals can expect excellent post-colonoscopy care. This blog aims to provide helpful tips for a smooth recovery after a colonoscopy in Singapore, ensuring optimal healing and well-being.

Follow post-procedure instructions:

After your colonoscopy in Singapore, your healthcare provider will provide you with specific post-procedure instructions. It is vital to carefully follow these guidelines to facilitate a smooth recovery. Instructions may include dietary restrictions, medication recommendations, and activity limitations. Adhering to these instructions will help prevent complications and promote healing.

Hydrate and replenish:

During a colonoscopy, the colon is cleansed thoroughly, which can lead to temporary dehydration. After the procedure, it is crucial to rehydrate your body by drinking plenty of fluids. Water, herbal tea, and clear liquids are recommended in the initial hours following the procedure. As you recover, gradually reintroduce solid foods as instructed by your healthcare provider to replenish your energy and nutrients.

Rest and Take It Easy:

Colonoscopy is a minimally invasive procedure, but it is still essential to rest and allow your body to fully recover. Avoid strenuous activities and heavy lifting for a few days following the procedure. Resting will aid in the healing process and minimize any discomfort you may experience. Take this time to relax, catch up on sleep, and allow your body to regain its strength.

Manage Discomfort:

It is common to experience some discomfort, such as bloating or cramping, after a colonoscopy. Over-the-counter pain relievers may be recommended by your healthcare provider to manage any discomfort. Applying a warm compress to your abdomen can also provide relief. However, if you experience severe or prolonged pain, a fever, or heavy rectal bleeding, it is important to seek medical attention promptly.

Monitor for complications:

While complications after a colonoscopy are rare, it is essential to be vigilant and monitor for any signs of potential problems. Keep an eye out for persistent abdominal pain, excessive bleeding, fever, or signs of infection. If you notice any unusual symptoms or are concerned about your recovery, please visit website and how to recover fast.

Follow-Up with Your Doctor:

In Singapore, comprehensive healthcare includes follow-up consultations after a colonoscopy. Your doctor will schedule a follow-up appointment to discuss the results of the procedure and provide further guidance. This is an excellent opportunity to address any concerns or ask questions about your recovery. Regular follow-ups with your doctor ensure that you receive appropriate care and maintain good colon health.

Conclusion:

Colonoscopy aftercare plays a crucial role in ensuring a smooth recovery and optimal healing. By following the post-procedure instructions provided by your healthcare provider, hydrating adequately, resting, managing discomfort, monitoring for complications, and attending follow-up appointments, you can support your body's recovery process after a colonoscopy in Singapore. Prioritizing aftercare not only promotes your well-being but also contributes to the early detection and prevention of colon cancer, further enhancing your long-term health. Remember, taking care of yourself after a colonoscopy is essential for a successful recovery.

Here you can find our reference post: https://costofendoscopysingapore.blogspot.com/2023/05/colonoscopy-tips-for-smooth-recovery.html

[tokensbossh]

Top 100+ Tinder Bio Status 2022 for Men

Get ready for a faster match with girls now with Top 100+ Tinder Bio Status for Boys. Here on Tinder, we give you 100 tips on how to create a female-attractive profile as a man. Your friends have told you how easy and wonderful it is to sleep on tinder. Of course, create a profile, take a quick photo and wait for matches and meetups to be accepted. along with good tinder bio lines you will now be swiped by women.

This post is perfect for folks attempting to find the best Tinder bio status. We will investigate all the most convincing and one of a kind bio situations with will assist your profile with sparkling. If it's not too much trouble, note that Tinder profiles are important. There are circumstances where alluring, rich and smooth folks have been dismissed due to ineffectively composed bio situations with. Consider your Tinder bio status as an "About me" page. It must be introduced in a positive and fascinating manner. Despite the fact that profile photographs might be the snare that gets all the notice from women, it is your Tinder bio status that brings out pleasure and interests individuals enough to catch their inclinations. In the first place, how about we get going with your photograph. A fast selfie in the restroom won't cut it. Look at this kindling come up short I mean really, this person looks unpleasant. As a lady hoping to get laid it wouldn't make any difference on the off chance that he had a six-pack and a 8-inch c*** he's getting swiped left speedy and in a rush… . The miserable part is this person presumably thought he was looking certain with this photograph.

First steps on Tinder for a Quality Profile

While choosing which photograph to utilize contemplate the message you need to ship off the universe. Presently we should investigate photographs that would make practically any young lady clammy. This photograph lets a young lady know that his person has essentially all that most ladies are searching for. It shows certainty since he's brave ready to make a trip to a distant spot. It shows he has sympathy for other people and is certainly not an egotistical jerk. It likewise shows that he's not terrible looking person since it doesn't look phony or sifted. Truly, I would give this person access my jeans any day regardless of whether I realized he won't call the following morning. Another thing about photographs Before I move to the bio itself I need to address another thing about photographs. They can't be excessively great! That is they can't excessively proficient look. This photograph is only approach to photoshopped and expert and it doesn't look genuine. I would be quickly dubious on the off chance that I saw a person with this photograph which would mean yet another obstruction to get across to arrive at your objective. If you have any desire to obtain the best outcomes your photograph should be top notch yet at the same time seem as though it was taken on your cell. This is an ideal illustration of what a decent kindling photograph (and bio) ought to seem to be. It's great yet at the same time regular and yet it doesn't seem as though it was taken by an expert that he paid truckload of cash to do right by him! What's surprisingly better is his photograph praises his profile and sends an extraordinary message about his qualities and what sort of young lady he's searching for. Presently onto the bio! To get a date on kindling you want a decent bio! Utilizing the above photograph you can see what a decent bio resembles. For reasons unknown, a few people believe that they need to attempt to compose a book about themselves to definitely stand out and it's simply false. A decent bio is quick and painless. It necessities to tell what your identity and's searching for and a discussion piece. Great bio model: Love football, rock climbing, work in IT. Would open to meeting another stone climbing pal and my closest companion is a goldfish (not actually). This bio determines what you are what your identity is (a functioning individual), what you're searching for (rock climbing pal), and gives an opening for a decent discussion (rock climbing, fish, IT) and it has a joke. I realize you're thinking 'however I just want to get laid I don't maintain that she should stay close by. Try not to stress most ladies on kindling understand what time it is. It's simply that most young ladies would rather not feel simple so they legitimize it to them by saying 'goodness we can be rock climbing mates'. This is simply to give you an opening.

Impress women with the Top 100 Tinder Slogans for Men in 2022

- Planning extravagant suppers, offering nail trims, and showering acclaims are a portion of my number one side interests. - Around the roads, I am a sovereign, and in the room, I am a crazy person. - A scholarly and a genuine gent. - Every last bit of me revere every single piece of you. - I'm a fear camouflaged as a dream. - Ensure your shoes are tied! Since I don't maintain that you should be taken in by another person. - Is it safe to say that you are from Jamaica? You're making me crazy! - Swipe to one side assuming you feel like it. - Long beachside walks, energetic babbles, and Ecstasy are favorites. - Will you be here to protect me in the event that I succumbed to you? - Who has teeth and holds the mass under wraps? My pants fly. - Include me in for anything that you want me to do. - Is it true that you are a cut of pie? I'd like a cut of it. - I'm apprehensive my telephone is demolished. Your telephone number isn't on it. - Very cool. - I don't know where I am. I might want to know where your room is found. - Dime-hunting with only pennies and dimes for organization. - I'm an ideal 90 degrees, simply the manner in which you like it. - I reshuffled the letters in order and joined the letters U and I. - Kindly let me know you're okay. It's far down from the privileged position of God.

Amusing and Cool Tinder Taglines for Guys

Indeed, on the off chance that you could have done without the above slogans, attempt these cool Tinder profiles for Guys. These kindling slogans for folks are truly cool and sharp to utilize. - I'm counts on your guidelines being a great deal lower than mines - I'm 6 feet and 4 inches. Those are two estimations - Try not to message me on the off chance that you are just searching for hookups. - I'm refined in that I like imported lagers and voyaging. On the off chance that you can't giggle at yourself I will. - Living alone interestingly. Kayaking, specialty brew, my canine, great books, great music, all the other things. I like discussing every one of the things you shouldn't talk about in courteous organization. I really want more Lake Michigan in my life. Straightforwardness enormously valuable." - "Premium Cat Facts accessible on demand. - I'm six feet, 6'6 in impact points, and 8'4 imparts. I have ten suits so I make an extraordinary in addition to one for your late spring weddings. I appreciate investigating, eating out, meeting new individuals and, and the Oxford comma. My canine can't stand pictures. - I have different travel papers, however I'm not a government operative. Let me know where you want residency, and I'll wed you there to get you in." - Not inspired by any slogan. It depends on you. - "Surfer. Tech business visionary. Successive explorer. Yet, when I'm finished with the work for the afternoon, the PC power is down and it's the ideal opportunity for some tomfoolery - whether we're hitting Aspen's slants for an end of the week trip, getting a live stage performance, or went to Paris for a few new heated croissants and the best coffee on earth. Want to join? Message me and we should talk." - Most qualified lone ranger - Simply message assuming you have the interest to know more - Your eyes are wonderful. Gracious, pause… did you just become flushed? Then, at that point, swipe right. - Bliss is the thing I am searching for… Will you be my joy? - "I'm a technical genius. I've showed up on the front of GQ - two times. What's more, in the wake of dominating Italian, I turned into a worldwide super government agent. The present moment, I'm yachting my direction across the Caribbean, taking highly confidential data, and tasting mai tais… shaken, not mixed. - Alright, fine. I misrepresented just a smidge. In any case, I truly do like a decent mai tai and I got a B+ in my fifth grade science class. Message me for all the more straight talk, and I'll send you FB joins, photographs of science fair prizes, and a whole lot more… " - "Manhattan, Med School, Dog Lover. - Positioned fourth on the planet for thumb wrestling." - English, Terrible jokester, 6 ft - wonderful enormous spoon, Good cook Animal Lover Winner of a Beauty challenge in syndication, Owner of vehicle, Good whistler, Gym participant, Spider executioner, Disney world standard, Best hair where I work - Made 50 Shades of Gray appears to not be anything before me - "6'5 and accommodating … BA in history and writing yet gladly utilized in development. Enormous enthusiast of meandering the city, be it by walking or a bicycle, and investigating all it brings to the table. Enthusiastic peruser, cook, snowboarder, and film buff." - "Hitched. Several children. Searching for some side activity. Simply joking. Single, 3 Tamagotchi. Searching for somebody to bring to family occasions so they'll quit believing a major issue with's me." - Taller than you in heels, Love positive individuals, idiosyncrasies, great wine, Italian food, tense motion pictures, unrecorded music, debauchery, Open to most things, yet we should begin with a relaxed date.

You can find quotes that will impress him.

- I added you a little bit, I loved you like that. Because you're not so beautiful without me. - The most expressive look is hidden in a pair of wet eyes. It tells a lot because the tongue is connected, the heart speaks. - If you go where your heart takes you, you will find me as if you put me with your hand. - I didn't like it easily, I came across your smile. - There are three aspects of a woman, the one that you need to love while laughing, the one that you need to hug while crying, the one that you need to kiss while you sleep. - This is how I am. I loved you so much. It was always easy to love a being. I loved your absence. I liked not the easy presence, but the difficult absence. - I just need a few minutes in the same city as you. - I found love in your smile, your eyes are like a reflection of heaven. - The girl learns from the mother how to brew with tea. The boy learns from his father how to kiss those hands that make tea. - You have a smile, if he sees a butterfly, his life will be longer.

Clever and Sweet Tinder Bio Statuses for Guys

On the off chance that you hate the above-recorded bio situations with Tinder, we have one more assortment of inconceivably clever ones for you. It is exceptional and sweet to utilize. - Might you want to find exceptional days ever? Swipe at the present time.. swipe at the present time… - Since my heart was grabbed, I might want to know whether you have an extra. - I accept I have failed to remember my telephone number. I might want to acquire yours. - Do you have a ticket for speeding? Since fine is composed all over you! - Is Alexa your name? Since you naturally fill in the spaces for me. - It's Bonnie to Clyde for you. - Nothing endures quite a while, so I'm on the chase after my nothing. - More delectable than nectar, if not better than sugar. - I'll be your adrenaline rush from kiwi organic product. - Have you visited Tennessee? Since you're the only one of the ten I see! - There is generally fire when there is smoke. - Need to find a piece of workmanship that truly sticks out. - Do you go by the name of Google, by any opportunity? Because of the sensation of being watching out for you. - You figured out how to find my area! Which two additional desires do you have for me? - For somebody who looks like goat cheddar, I'm really messy! - Searching for adorable cucumbers as I'm veggie lover. - Putting on an act. - My folks are the two pastry specialists, so I'm a tad of a darling.

Kindling Bio Status for Confident Guys

At long last, here's our last assortment of incredible Tinder profiles for you! Make sure to from the postings underneath and use them. They are right here: - I'm apprehensive you might have unintentionally dropped something… I get it's your jaw! - Could you be outraged assuming I let you know that you have an extraordinary constitution? - Is it true that you are a Francophile? Since Eiffel for you hard! - Your body is made of McDonald's food. Since I'm fascinated with it! - Hi, darling. At the point when I'm with you, something other than the sun rises. - No, there will be no show. - You look wonderful, however you'd look marvelous on my sleeping cushion. - Do you appreciate sports? Since you'd be a manager! - Hi! Allow me to catch up with you briefly, please. - You'd be fine print in the event that you were text in a book. - It's pointless to live without you. - I can't resist the urge to grin at whatever point I see you. - Do you feel like you have a great deal of opportunity this end of the week? - Is it breezy, or would i say i was amazed by your power? - While you're feeling low, I'll be there to lift you back to wellbeing. - I know, it's crazy. You share a ton for all intents and purpose with my future sweetheart. - Is it better to be shrewd or pleasant? It's completely dependent upon you.

Best Tinder Bios for Boys

Here are some profiles for your Tinder Profiles. - I snuggle at a level that ought to require a paid membership. - Searching for somebody to become old with… one night more seasoned - Pizza is my second most loved thing to eat in bed. - I'm really searching for the one young lady that abhorrences to snicker and can't stand great music. Extra focuses assuming that you loathe the outside. In the event that I at any point wind up eye to eye with a kindling, I'm probably in a difficult situation so drop the camera and GET HELP! I'm 6'1 so if it's not too much trouble, be taller than me in heels. - We should simply check it out. - Everybody merits an opportunity I do as well. - Kid without any pimples yet dimple. - Changed sufficient as per others. Presently no more. Swipe right, provided that the former line suits you - On the off chance that our discussions don't bang, neither will our privates. - Don't have the foggiest idea why Tinder believes I'm 18. I'm really 30. - "Netflix and chill? More like extreme scholarly discussion and afterward harsh sex." - No snare ups just love. - I'm searching for a young lady who is really mean. She additionally must be truly tenacious and envious. I lean toward ladies who ramble about their ex and an affection for bootyliciousness. In my leisure time, I like to take my shirt off and take selfies. I'm really in shape thanks to my severe eating routine of Mountain Dew and Twizzlers. - You never need to stress over me leaving you. - One like you have at no other time. - Simply doing this on the grounds that my sweetheart did. She said it amounts to nothing. Message the s*** out of me. - Hoping to meet a few new individuals and see what occurs. - Looking for somebody that looks great on the arm to take to get-togethers! - I'm here to keep away from companions on Facebook.

Which Makes To Swipe Right

Also, here's the last arrangement of Top and Best Tinder Taglines for Guys. Hey now, pick one from this rundown, slogans aren't simply all that will accomplish the work. You should have different characteristics too. - I'm here since I'm excessively languid to find my perfect partner and my mother said that I'm going downhill - You seem to be my next botch - Leave a message after the signal. - In the event that you're trusting that the ideal second will converse with me… presently is it. - I don't commit errors, I simply date them. - Is it true or not that you were captured before? It must be against the law to look that benefit. - You may be approached to leave soon. You're making different ladies look genuinely awful. - Might I at any point snap a photo of you, so I can show Santa need for Christmas? - Hello, I recently started to understand this, yet you seem to be my next sweetheart. - "Was that a quake, or did I simply shake your reality?" - "I can bite the dust cheerful now, cause I've recently seen a piece of paradise." - You merit a perspective. On the off chance that the main thing you see is you. - I'm a person keen on obliterating your lipstick, not your mascara. - I love myself. Swipe right provided that you love me also. - No lying, no cheating, no show - I get it… I generally do. - Gone through a terrible relationship. If you as well, we should address our previous slip-ups. - I lost my teddy bear, will you lay down with me? - "Excuse me, however I think you dropped something here… your JAW!" - "Do you have a library card? Since I am looking at you." - I'm new around. Might you at any point give me bearings to your condo? - Searching for somebody to bring to family occasions so they'll quit believing a major issue with's me. Swipe the course you assume you generally walk. Read the full article

[awhitehead17]

You make everything better

TimKon, Dragon!Tim, Tired Kon, Humour, Fluff, Cuddles, Comfort, Soft boyfriends.

Summary: Kon is pleasantly surprised to find Tim waiting for him when he comes home from a gruelling mission. And no matter what form his boyfriend chooses to take, Kon always feels better with having Tim there by his side, especially after the week he’s just had.

Enjoy! :D 

As he makes his way to his room Kon could feel the weight of the last few days catching up on his body. He feels the stiffness in his thighs with every step he takes, he feels how tense his shoulders are as he walks and there’s a dull throbbing going on in the back of his head as a result of tiredness.

His plan, once he gets to his room, is to shower and then pass out on his bed for the rest of the day. Despite the mission’s duration of being a couple days, Kon feels absolutely shattered and the mission wasn’t even anything excessive! It had been a recon mission but because of how long it had gone on for, including the sleepless nights, Kon’s feeling the effects of it throughout his whole body. He can’t wait to be in his own bed again.

Opening the door Kon steps into his room and when it shuts behind him he lets out a blissful sigh and takes a moment to relax now that he's in his own safe haven. Once he’s mustered up the energy he pushes away from the door and starts heading towards the bathroom so he could shower and freshen up, as much as he would like to skip that part he knows that it’s better to do it first than deal with the grossness later on.

Kon’s plan, however, is waylaid when he spots what’s on his bed for the first time. Pausing between the bed and the bathroom he stares at the black ball that’s on top of his pillow by the headboard. At first glance it looks like it could be some clothing screwed up into a ball, or a roughly folded blanket, however upon further inspection there’s a shiny red tint to the black that makes it appear glossy like and the shininess outlines the scales covering the ball.

Knowing exactly what it is Kon doesn’t panic. It’s his boyfriend, Tim, in his small dragon form. While his appearance was unexpected it certainly isn’t unwelcome. Kon feels fondness flow through him at the sight of the creature on his bed, the fact that Tim feels comfortable enough to stay in Kon’s room in his shifted form without him says a lot on its own but Kon feels better having him here with him and even more so after the day he’s had.

Kon goes to his bed and carefully sits down on the edge of it so he doesn’t disturb the tiny dragon. Reaching out Kon strokes a finger over the body, following the shape of the ball he’s curled up in, the scales underneath his finger are surprisingly soft and Kon smiles. Using his whole hand Kon strokes a bit harder to try and gently rouse Tim into consciousness. If he’s not careful then there’ll be some consequences, it’s happened before and it’s an experience Kon does not want a repeat of.

It takes a few full body strokes until the dragon finally stirs. A little snort sounds out which is followed by its body uncurling. Kon watches in amusement, while feeling so much fondness and affection, as his boyfriend does a full body stretch (looking very similar to what a cat would do after a nap) and lets out a yawn, his little mouth opening wide to show his rows of sharp teeth and pink tongue. Kon couldn’t help but coo, he’s so adorable.

Once Tim’s finished stretching he sits up right and cocks his head to the side as he looks at Kon, in response all Kon does is sit there and smile at the dragon as his yellow slitted eyes roam over his body.

“I’m okay, Tim. Honestly.” He says after a beat, knowing that Tim is looking over him for any signs of injury. “I’m just tired and in need of sleep.”

The little dragon before him, and really Tim is no bigger than what a ferret would be, his body is long and thin, there are small wings sprouting from his back that are currently pulled back and tucked away, blinks at him and snuffles. Interpreting that sound as Tim not believing him Kon shakes his head fondly.

Sending Tim an exasperated look he says, “seriously I’m okay. It’s been a long couple of days. Anyway, I’m surprised to see you here, not that I missed of course but I’d figured you’d still be in Gotham.”

Tim shakes his head and starts prowling towards him, he steps off the pillow and onto the covers before carefully making his way over to Kon’s thigh where he's sat on the bed. Kon lets him climb on him but knowing exactly what Tim’s going to do once there he quickly grabs the dragon and lifts him up into the air, ignoring the sound of protest as he does. He’s not letting Tim dig his claws into his thigh. No matter how much he loves him, that isn’t happening.

After a moment Tim begins to squirm in his hold and he lets out an almost whining sound and Kon rolls his eyes at his dramatics. Kon moves and holds Tim up towards his neck and allows his boyfriend to step onto his shoulders. Tim slithers easily onto his body and instantly curls around his neck in a scarf like away. Kon lets out a light laugh as he feels Tim’s head and body move against his skin, with this action he knows Tim is scent marking him, his dragon wanting to make his own claim on his person especially because they’ve been apart for far too long.

Sighing Kon closes his eyes and enjoys the weight of Tim around his neck, subconsciously he reaches up and strokes Tim’s snout and back with a finger, with the action he hears Tim purr in happiness. However the purring abruptly stops and is replaced with a hiss like noise. Kon opens his eyes and glances at Tim with a frown, wondering what could be wrong to cause such a reaction, he’s known long enough about Tim’s dragon side and by now knows the variety of expressions Tim can create while in this form and the one he’s currently wearing is showing his displeasure.

Feeling weary Kon asks, “what’s wrong?”

Tim exaggerates a sniff and snarls before jumping down to move away from him, returning back to the pillow Tim sits there and watches Kon pointedly and Kon knows if he could, Tim would be scowling right now. Tim’s actions make Kon wince. They remind him of what his original plan had been before he got distracted by his adorable boyfriend, bending down Kon sniffs his shirt and instantly pulls away grimacing. Yeah, a shower is a must.

He sends Tim an apologetic look. “Sorry. I know I need a shower, it’s been a long couple of days. I’ll be back in a bit.” With no more words Kon pushes himself off the bed, which takes a whole lot more effort than it should have, and trudges to his bathroom to clean himself up.

After a relatively quick shower, as much as Kon would have liked to have lingered in it knowing his boyfriend is currently on his bed is a good enough motivator to have a quick one, Kon strolls back into his bedroom now dressed in clean and comfortable lounge wear.

As expected, Tim is still on his bed on the pillow in his dragon form, his boyfriend perks up when he hears Kon coming and keeps an eye on him as Kon moves about the bedroom finishing off what he needs to before turning off the lights and finally climbing into bed. Kon stretches out on his mattress with a groan and settles underneath his covers. After a moment once he’s comfortable he sighs in relief as he can finally let his body relax properly for the first time in days.

The situation gets even better when he feels Tim climb on top of him and as the small dragon lays down over his body with his head settling in the curve of where Kon’s neck and shoulders meet. Kon smiles to himself when he feels Tim nuzzle his skin, purring with contentment, as he’s now able to scent Kon properly. Without thinking about it Kon reaches up with a hand and absently strokes the length of Tim’s body, feeling the way Tim relaxes against him, and soon enough his boyfriend is asleep on top of him. Kon soon follows Tim into dream land as his purring and soft snores lure him to sleep.

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

Hello I hope your doing well! I have a headcanon idea how would the brothers and previously undatebles react to a masseuse/masseur (people who give out professional massages)

Let's try this shall we~

Edit: I was informed by someone who is actually familiar with this field that the term Masseuse and Masseur can be seen as insulting in the profession, thank you for informing me again!

.

The Boys and a Massage Professional/Therapist MC

.

Warning: uncensored swearing, a lot of it asfkfkajshfkslajd

.

Lucifer

Tense shoulders that could cut steel, harder than a fucking nokia phone from centuries to eons of stress, if I was a professional at massages I think I would be itching to grab onto those muscles of his like dough.

He will probably feel chills down his spine whenever you are around.

Won't take much convincing if the time is right to ask him to please let you release the pressure on him because dear fucking lord I wouldn't be able to just stand and watch either.

Good fucking luck in the process, when I say this man is stiff this man is STIFF.

He will be feeling so much better by the end of it there's a chance he will be slightly dazed.

Also it improved his mood which led to less harsh punishments, which now has led to more demands from others than from Lucifer himself for you to massage him.

I think you should start asking for payment at this point-

.

Mammon

And talking about payment, you will definetelly need to ask it from this one because after the first time you gave it to him for free out of your own good will he started to come back for it all. the. time.

Okay, he's cute and the sounds he makes are so 👌. But damn boy this is not exactly so easy so please give something back??????

Well, you just need to say the word and he will always have something in ready to give you. A date at a place you have been wanting to go for a good while now or something you have had you eyes on for a good time.

It's a very win win kind of deal.

Though at some point when you massaged his legs he felt so light he ran faster than he could control and almost ran into a wall, actually no, he did ran into a wall there's a crack in there ouch-

.

Leviathan

In which the cause of the second oldest running was probably to scape the demands for his money back from the third oldest, though Levi was definetelly too stunned by the lighting speed to react right away.

He now makes sonic jokes when refering to Mammon.

But going back to massages, this fucking snake has such a bad posture I would be in back pain just from watching him sit.

And don't expect it to be easy to fix that because everytime you touch him he just tenses up further.

I swear it would be easier to just knock him out and acupuncture him.

You will succeed at some point if you don't give up, and BOY he also makes some 👌😩 sounds.

They're a lot more dorkish and high pitched and he will definetelly not be functional by the end of it.

He will start trying to fix his posture from now on to not make your work go to waste.

.

Satan

A curious cat that would just straight up ask for a session (not for free of course he already has something to give you back in ready) after witnessing the shenanigans above.

Not so stiff as Lucifer but still fucking hard, which is to be expected since he has so much rage bottled up.

Chances are he's turning into his demon form unconsciously.

It's a bit of an intimidating session not gonna lie, he is basically using it to relieve himself from part of his wrath so with every groan it feels like he's going to jump at you and rip you to shreds.

He won't of course, instead he will smile brightly by the end of the session and give you your reward for such a good job.

It's honestly worth it though you will probably be needing a massage yourself after-

.

Asmodeus

And that's where pretty boy comes in! He doesn't have a professional tittle on him but he has centuries of experience so that's close right?

He will have all things ready, just say the word and he will give you the best payment for all your hard work ever: a chance to relax yourself.

And man he's good.

It's also not very tiring to massage him either, his smooth skin is addicting to touch, the atmosphere he will help set up will be perfect, and he also spills a lot of tea in between so that's a plus for entertainment.

Seriously whenever it becomes too much to be with the rest of the brothers just hit Asmo up and he's gotchu.

Private spa day comming right up.

.

Beelzebub

He won't ask because it will completelly scape his mind.

He plays a lot of sports and does a lot of exercising so of course he has a lot of sore muscles.

And you can't tell me you wouldn't want to massage his belly, he's a glutton, it's literally asking for you to massage there.

Baby boy is always so gratefull, thanks to your aftercare on his legs, arms and torso, he has never felt lighter!

Which has led him to accidentally break some of the gym weights, win a sports game almost all on his own and make another restaurant suffer because he felt he could eat more than usual.

Although I would like to say you should proceed with the massages with caution, his smile is too precious to ever say no to.

.

Belphegor

Easiest target ever, will probably sleep for 24 hours in one go right after.

And he won't wake up for shit.

Though once he wakes up after those 24 hours he will basically be wide awake for the next 24 hours, so honestly? This has turned out to be very useful in important ocasions.

Will often give out some whines in the middle of a session, possibly half asleep for the entire time.

I feel like he would feel quite ticklish in some places even though you wouldn't be purposelly trying to tickle him, probably.

And I know many of you love his laugh, so yeah that's a plus.

He will definetelly offer to massage you back, and yes he will be good at it, and no it's not because of experience, yes it's because he's too much of a genious and has basically learned through osmosis just from getting massages from you.

.

Solomon

Let me tell ya, he's stiffer than you think.

Bad posture, centuries of responsabilities, strain from excessive use of magic and pacts and the weight of existence when you are both immortal and unable to die.

He could easily rival Lucifer and he won't even realize it.

Will definetelly agree to get a massage and will definetelly say "well I do feel a bit under the weather" and his muscles will definetelly feel a little bit more than just under the weather.

It's easier to chew on hard bread than massage Solomon.

He also offers to pay you back.

Do not agree to get a massage from him, I repeat, DO NOT.

.

Simeon

If you didn't feel like touching that exposed waist of his then you're lying.

If you don't offer first, he will ask you for it at some point.

And man to have a literal angel right under you, letting out a few exhales of satisfaction and bliss with every move of your skilled hands and arms, sometimes a chuckle followed by a comment that could start a small conversation.

Smooth skin, perfectly shaped body, I don't think I would be able to get my hands off him either.

Massage his hands, from his palms to his fingertips, massage his shoulders, from his blades to his neck, thumbs pressing close to his spine.

He will gladly let you indulge yourself for as long as you wish.

.

Diavolo

Another one who's stiffer than you think.

You could literally jump on his back and it would feel like pavement.

Oh and he's now definetelly addicted to massage.

Of course he will also be paying you back with whatever you wish (don't make a joke and say something like 100,000,000 grimm, he will take it seriously-).

Depending on the day he may actually fall asleep, which is very cute.

On another note tho, have you ever thought about sleeping on his back? Because I have-

.

Barbatos

Good luck getting him to take off his clothes, even more good luck to catch him not being busy.

This man will gladly give out massages of his own (which could probably knock out a dragon because damn boy those hands are skilled) but will probably not be as easy to convince to get a massage.

It will take an extremelly tiring day to make him agree and it will be so worth it.

Why you ask? Because the look in his face will alway be so soft by the end of it. Pure gratefullness.

Since then he will start to actually seek you out from time to time, the little smile on his face almost looking excited.

[jxsatlas]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍 ⇢ keith kogane, ch. 1

keith kogane x gn! reader – next

DISCLAIMER! this story does not originally belong to me, the author is @MaddieWolf37 on Wattpad. i have simply received permission to rewrite and continue her story. go and check out her profile for the original version!

SYNOPSIS! a story in which you are thrown into the middle of an intergalactic space war and have the undesirable weight of being a symbol of peace dropped on your shoulders. but maybe if you look past the constant danger and endless fighting, there's some good to being a paladin of voltron.

MATURE CONTENT! swearing, violence, gore, war, graphic descriptions, mentions of self-harm

"Galaxy Garrison flight log 5-11-14," Lance announces, "Begin descent to Kerberos for a rescue mission."

He shoves the yoke forward and the aircraft takes a steep dive. You plant your feet to help fight against the inertia. You give him a sharp glare as the aircraft steadies out.

"Ugh, Lance, can you keep this thing straight?" Hunk whines from the back.

You look over your shoulder and recognise the nauseated expression on his face all too well. Last semester, there was a girl on your team that didn't do too well with excessive motion and often got sick.

Lance brushes him off. "Relax Hunk, I'm just getting a feel for the stick," he says with a lazy grin, which quickly turns mischievous. "It's not like I did this, or this!" Lance jerks the aircraft side to side, making Hunk feel worse.

"Knock it off, Lance," you warn from your chair next to him. You reach up above you and press a few buttons in hopes of stabilising the aircraft out after Lance's little joke.

"Yeah, listen to [y/n] unless you wanna wipe beef stroganoff out of all the little nooks and crannies of this thing," Hunk groans angrily.

"We've picked up a distress signal!" Pidge says from his seat in the back.

"Alright, time to quit our bickering and get serious," you say, doing your own little thing to accommodate for the lower altitude while Lance flies the aircraft.

"Pidge, track the coordinates," Lance says with a roll of his eyes at your comment.

Pidge does so, typing away on the computer. The aircraft gives a large rumble and Hunk groans again.

"Knock it off, Lance! Please!" he whines, his face all scrunched up in discomfort.

"Oh, that's on you buddy," Lance says sharply. "We got a hydraulic stabiliser out."

Hunk nods and goes to fix it, but when the aircraft shakes again he gags. "Oh no."

"Oh no, fix now, puke later," Lance growls.

So much bickering... you think to yourself with a sigh.

"I lost contact!" Pidge says. "The shaking is interfering with our sensors."

Lance looks over his shoulder at Hunk. "Come on, dude!"

"Sorry, it's not responding," Hunk says and unfastens his safety belt. He carefully gets up and makes his way over to the gearbox to see what's up.

"Coordinates are back," you say, seeing the blue dot on the dash.

"Nevermind Hunk," Lance says.

"No, he still needs to fix it," you say. "We can't properly fly this thing if a hydraulic stabiliser is out."

"Whatever," Lance rolls his eyes, "Preparing for approach on visual."

"I don't think that's advisable, given our current mechanical..." Pidge warns, trailing off when he hears Hunk gag again. "...and gastrointestinal issues..."

"Agreed!" Hunk says, not before quickly emptying his stomach into the gearbox with the unsavoury sounds of food chunks and liquid hitting the metal. You cringe, not liking the sound, and hope he's okay.

"Stop worrying," Lance says dismissively.

"No, they're right," you say firmly as you place your attention on Lance now. "We should wait before we do anything."

"Nah, this baby can take it! Can't ya champ?" Lance coos and pats the dash. The aircraft rumbles again and he retracts his hand with a sheepish look. "See? She was nodding!"

"That wasn't nodding Lance," you deadpan. "Now listen to us and wait."

"I'm the one flying this thing, aren't I?" Lance asks. "So I'm in charge, and that means what I say goes!"

"Excuse you, we're both flying this thing," you argue.

Ignoring you, Lance turns to Pidge. "Pidge, hail down on them and let them know their ride is here," he says.

Knowing that you're now doomed, you keep your mouth shut and wait for the inevitable failure of the simulation. You can already see it, the big, bold, red letters appearing on the dash.

And when Lance flies towards an overhang, tilting the plane as much as he can in a sad attempt to thread through the little hole rather than going over or around, you know this is where you fail.

Lance doesn't make it. The wing gets torn off, the alarms blare, and the aircraft pummels to the ground. The dash goes black and those red letters you were anticipating appear without hesitation.

Simulation Failed.

The first failure on your school record.

You toss your head back and sharply exhale, frustration building up in you. "Nice going," you grumble and look at Lance through the corner of your eye.

He catches your gaze and glares at you. "Oh, shut up," he growls.

The four of you sit in silence for a second, you and Lance glaring at each other, before an instructor opens the door and beckons you to come out.

Reluctantly, you all unfasten your safety belts and crawl out of the aircraft. You then mentally prepare yourselves for the lecture about how you are all failures to come.

You, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge line up before the Commander, avoiding his scowling gaze.

"Let's see if we can't use this complete failure as a lesson for the rest of you," Commander Iverson's voice booms angrily. He's not at all impressed with your behaviour. "Can anyone point out the mistakes these so-called cadets made during the simulator?"

"The engineer puked in the main gearbox!" a boy from the back of the group of students shouts out. Iverson nods and turns to Hunk.

"Yes. Everyone knows vomit is not an approved lubricant for engine systems," Iverson sharply criticises Hunk. He turns back to the students. "What else?"

"The comms-spec removed his safety harness," a girl points out.

"The pilot crashed!" another shouts.

Iverson nods, approving of all the answers given. "And worst of all, the whole jump they're arguing with each other," he growls and turns to the four of you once more.

You keep your gaze on the ground shamefully.

"The Galaxy Garrison exists to turn young cadets like you into the next generation of elite astro-explorers," Iverson lectures. His hands are on his hips as he looks down at you. "But these kinds of mental mistakes are exactly what caused the lives of the men on the Kerberos Mission."

In your peripherals, you notice Pidge clench his fists at his sides and scrunch his nose up in anger. You fully turn your head to him when he takes a bold step towards the Commander.

"That's not true, sir!" he barks.

Iverson looks at him and glares. "What was that, young man?" he growls.

Lance quickly slaps a hand over Pidge's mouth and pulls him back in line. "Sorry, sir! He must've hit his head when he fell!" he says, smiling sheepishly in a sad attempt to cover up his fear. His hand gets tighter over Pidge's mouth, almost as if he's asking the ginger what the hell is wrong with him.

With Lance speaking up, Iverson's attention is now pinpointed on him. He takes a few steps closer to Lance, his intimidating figure making your brother cower back a bit.

"I hope I don't need to remind you that the only reason you're here," he growls, his tone of voice menacing and powerful, "is because the best pilot in your class had a disciplinary issue and flunked out."

Lance drops his gaze down to the floor, a look of dejection taking over his face.

"Don't follow in his footsteps," Iverson warns. He stares Lance down a bit before abruptly turning to you. "And you!" he barks.

Your entire body freezes up and your eyes wearily follow him as he stops in front of you now. Your heart sinks down to your gut.

"I expected better of you."

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

You returned to your dorm at the end of the day with a cloud over your head.

You grumble about the day's events as you aggressively tug your shirt over your head. You really wish you could pinpoint the source of your frustration. Are you mad at my brother? Your team? Or yourself?

You toss your clothes on the floor and pull out some track shorts and a hoodie from your dresser. Getting dressed in your pajamas for the rest of the night, you try to sort out your emotions.

"Stop mumbling to yourself," your roommate says from her bed.

You turn to her. "Ah, sorry," you say. "I didn't realise I was talking out loud..."

"If you're that mad at your brother why don't you just punch him?" she asks. You blink, surprised she actually heard you.

"I'm not violent like you," you say with a sigh. "Besides, I don't even know if I'm mad at him specifically."

"Eh, I would punch him either way," your roommate shrugs. "It's a good way to alleviate your stress."

You roll your eyes. "I alleviate my stress by sleeping."

Your roommate laughs. "Ain't that the truth?" she jests. "How many times have you taken a nap between classes this week?"

You stare at her with a blank expression for a moment before picking your clothes up and off of the ground. "I'm not answering that," you say and toss them into the hamper.

You and your roommate pause when there's a knock on the door. You look at her and she looks at you.

She raises her hands up. "And I'm not answering that," she says.

You roll your eyes and grab one of the dirty articles of clothing you tossed into the hamper and throw at her without any remorse. She yelps in fear and disgust as you walk to the door with a smirk on your face.

"Don't throw your nasty underwear at me!" she barks and she pinches the panties between her thumb and index finger, tossing them as far away from her as possible.

You cackle and open the door. Your laughter cuts short when you're suddenly face to face with your brother. Hunk stands behind him.

"What are you doing in the girls' dorm?" you ask, but then take the opportunity you just created for yourself to tease your dear elder brother. You think of it as a bit of revenge for crashing the simulator. "Visiting someone?"

Lance rolls his eyes. "Heh, I wish," he sighs. "But no. We're thinking about hitting the town tonight! You know, for some team bonding?"

"Who is it?" your roommate calls to you.

"Lance and Hunk," you say over your shoulder at her.

"Punch him!" she shouts back.

"No!" you hiss and turn back to your brother.

"I don't like your roommate," Lance comments under his breath.

"Neither do I," you joke.

"I heard that!" your roommate barks.

"No you didn't!" you ready. But getting the feeling that she's going to keep interrupting, you push Lance out of your way and step into the hall with him and Hunk. You then close the door and give the boys your full attention.

"So, you're gonna come with us?" Lance asks.

"I don't know," you say with uncertainty in your tone. You cross your arms. "It's past curfew and I don't really think you have off-campus privileges..."

"That doesn't matter," Lance waves his hand dismissively. "Iverson wants us to bond as a team, so why don't we listen to him for once?"

"I'm not feeling that adventurous," you say.

"What? Why not? It'll be fun!" Lance cajoles.

"Lance, your idea of fun always ends up with you and me in the principal's office," Hunk reminds. "Don't drag your little sibling into it."

"Hunk has a point," you say. "I don't want to get in trouble again. I had my filling for today."

"Since when were you a goodie-two-shoes?" Lance asks in a somewhat offended tone.

"Since I got a scholarship here?" you quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sibling?" Lance says as he gives you a look of utter betrayal, as if you were some alien.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not too keen on losing something like that because I went along with your dumb shenanigans," you sigh.

"Please, the max punishment for something like this is just a weekend detention with old man Brechin," Lance says and a mischievous grin spreads on his face. "That is, if you get caught."

You bite your lip, looking away in thought. Team bonding sounds very appealing after what happened today, but are you willing to risk your scholarship? You don't know if you can lose it because of a simple detention. The Galaxy Garrison is a government program, which means they are pretty strict.

"Do you really need to think about it?" Lance asks with raised eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're scared!"

His words irk you immensely.

You snap your gaze up to him. Is he serious? You aren't scared. Why would you be scared of sneaking out?

You silently walk back into your dorm and quickly throw a bra on, some socks, and your shoes.

"Where are you going?" your roommate asks as she watches you scramble about the room with a sense of purpose all of a sudden.

"Team bonding," you say, now tying the laces of your shoes.

"This late? Are you sure?" she asks.

"All common sense in me left the moment Lance basically called me a scaredy-cat," you say bluntly.

"Well, have fun," your roommate says.

You give her a small salute as you walk out of the dorm. "I'll be back by morning."

"Alright, see ya!"

You close the door and turn to Lance and Hunk expectantly. "Well?"

Lance gives you a cocky grin, proud of his persuasion skills. You suddenly consider your roommate's suggestion for a second.

"We need to go grab Pidge," Lance says. "It won't be team bonding if someone's missing. You gotta have everybody."

You shrug, doubting Pidge will join.

Lance takes the liberty of leading the way to the boys' dorm, you and Hunk following closely behind. You expertly dodge the officers patrolling the halls making sure students are in their dorms like ninjas on a stealth mission.

As Lance rounds a corner, he suddenly stops and back peddles quickly. He peeks around the corner and watches whatever is on the other side. Curious, you and Hunk sneak up close to Lance and peek as well.

Pidge steps out of his room, a backpack swung over his shoulders. He checks his surroundings before closing the door and running off.

You, Lance, and Hunk share a look. You all then telepathically agree to follow the small boy. Once again, Lance takes the lead.

[simplysimpingsimp]

heyo!! ur writing is really cool!! i was wondering if you could do a genya x reader drabble or just hcs-or whatever you wanna do that won’t stress ya out too much-about him coming home from a hard mission and just being clingy LMFAO

Hiya anon !! Thank you so much for requesting <3 it means so much :D and thank you so much for thinking my writing is cool T^T !! I love this request, it’s so cute 0: Genya is baby I love him so much (,: Please enjoy and I’m super sorry for any mistakes ! I hope you don’t mind it being written with gender neutral pronouns 0: I wasn’t sure if you wanted it like that, but please let me know if you want me to change them out to male or female, I dont mind one bit <3

🍂—————————————————————🍂

🍂Welcome Back HCs

Genya x gn! reader

Pronouns: they/them

TW: none!

🍂—————————————————————🍂

𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

Once he enters the door the first thing he hears is their soft voice, “Welcome home Genya.”

the first glimpse of Y/n is then with their arms extended for a hug, he pulls them into a tight bear hug

He uses a final burst of energy to embrace them before exhaustion kicks in

“I missed you so much…” his voice trails as he buries his face into their hair and nuzzled his cheek into them in order to avoid crying

“T-Too t-tight,” they wheeze out with a light laugh as he loosens his grip and they are finally able to hug him back

They send him off to take a bath while they finish making dinner

with an embarrassed blush he’ll ask them if they could help him with it because it’s increasingly more difficult to move to which they’ll nod with a light blush on their face

They’ll support him as they make their way to the warm bath tub and they’ll turn around so he can undress and get in

The soft sigh of satisfaction is their cue to get started

They’ll absolutely pamper him with gentle washes of his hair and do everything possible to make him feel more relaxed — he might even fall asleep a little but the embarrassment of their touch all over his body keeps him awake

They let him finish up with cleaning and soaking in the medicated water and they quickly go finish making dinner

Dinner is all his favorite foods in excessive portions, he looks at the meals with glittering eyes and a blushing face

“You need to eat up to recover faster,” they would say with a bright smile and hurry him along to sit and feed him everything he can handle

His adorable blushing face AHHH he’s so cute TT

Usually they would sit across from each other at the table, but he ends up sitting next to them practically touching each other’s sides — not that they minded of course, it was nice to have him close by after all

After the meal, he was beginning to get sleepy but would not go to sleep until they joined him

Genya would cuddle them, he would start tense but he would ease into it when they would start gently caressing his cheeks whispering softly about how much they missed him

He would bury his face into their neck with his arms around their body

Y/n would stroke his hair delicately and hum softly to help him fall asleep

“I love you (y/n)..” would be the last thing he says in a dreamy voice before his breathing softened and he passed out

🍂—————————————————————🍂

𝘚𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰

They held onto his hand as he guided them into their shared bedroom. He had practically been attached to their hip since he returned home from his week long mission. From the new forming scars on his body, it was certainly one of his most difficult ones. They didn’t mind at all his constant affection or clingy actions, in fact they needed it. The constant worrying and fear that something fatal would happen to him would frequently linger in their mind, so when he stepped through the door, they were more than relieved and thankful that he had come back. That they had the chance to greet him with ‘Welcome back’.

The sliding door resounded in the quiet hall as they entered the room together, only the sliding door closing could be heard.

The thick and soft futon mattress had already been laid out, all of their plushest blankets and most comfortable pillows sprawled over so that he could begin his recovery from the tough mission he’d return from.

He had kneeled down onto the futon, bringing them down with him. Genya laid down, a sigh of content relaxation escaping his lips as his body began to enter an auto pilot mode. They laid down on their side beside him, looking at his closed eyed expression that seemed calm and serene, contrasted by the scar across his face.

Y/n couldn’t help but admire his relaxed form. His expression was always so angry and furrowed around others and yet that would always change when they were present. Genya always seemed more approachable as he’d no longer have his eyebrows furrowed in a scowl rather he’d have a small smile on his face.

He opened his eyes, turning to his side, catching them staring at his face lovingly causing a warm blush to appear on his face. A blush formed on their face from the realization that they had been caught.

They looked into each other’s eyes, e/c enveloping a dark toned purple with love and sweet unspoken words.

Genya got closer to them, arms wrapping around their form as he brought his face into their neck. They giggled quietly as they felt his hair lightly tickle their skin.

“I missed you so much,” he spoke into their neck, his warm breath gently brushing against them.

“I missed you so much too,” their voice was soft as they stroked his hair delicately.

The embrace was soothing to both. Their worries regarding being away from each other melted away. Genya felt at peace being in their arms, knowing that he could now focus his attention even for a few days on them and that he knew that they would take care of him. Their warmth always calmed him down, feeding that touch he lacked as a child. A blissful feeling of both their heart’s connecting and reconciling following the lost time is what brought him the most joy. The sweet light touch from their fingers always made him smile as he felt the protection and love from them. The simple grazing of their skin against his was enough to leave him happy.

“Could you sing that lullaby for me? I’m starting to fall asleep,” his own voice was quiet and sweet, a stark difference from his former and occasional foul mouth.

They nodded as they got into a more comfortable position, Genya adjusting along with them. His head now resting on their shoulder with his arms wrapped tightly around them, while one of their hands gently stroked his hair.

Quietly they began to sing, a light smile forming on Genya’s face as he nuzzled his cheek against their shoulder one last time as he closed his eyes.

“I love you Y/n…” his voice dreamily trailed as his eyes closed and yet his grip around them didn’t loosen.

“I love you too Genya,” they smiled as they did their best to place a kiss on the top of his head.

ᴇɴᴅ

🍂—————————————————————🍂

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛɪɴɢ! ᴘʟᴇssᴇ ғᴇᴇʟ

ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇɴᴅ ɪɴ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs/ᴀsᴋs/ɪᴅᴇᴀs/ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ!

ɪᴛs ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ <3 sᴇᴇ ʏᴀʟʟ sᴏᴏɴ :ᴅ

-ᴊᴜɴᴏ

[whorangdan]

tease

request! for 🌚 anon, thank you for the request and for being so understanding and patient💓 im sorry this took so long. it's not exactly what you asked for but i did my best to include what you wanted and i hope you enjoy it regardless, thank you so much<3

around 2k words, mingyu’s a tease and reader punishes him, mingyu’s shy with his wants, reader is v understanding, overstimulation, service top!mingyu, very light degradation, praising, light crying, pretty soft i’d say, aftercare, pls excuse any typos

“what in the world are you trying to pull, mingyu?” you look over at your boyfriend and he puts his hands up defensively.

“i’m not doing anything, i swear!” he backs away from you and you roll your eyes. he’s been acting excessively clingy these past few days. regardless of the time and place, mingyu would find ways to sneak light touches on your body, teasingly stroking your inner thighs or resting his hand a tad lower than usual on your back. he was very obviously trying to get a specific reaction out of you yet whenever you questioned him, the boy would feign innocence. still, you allow him to wrap his arms around your waist and lean his head on your shoulder. “am i bothering you?”

letting out an exasperated sigh you turn around in his arms, now facing him. he glances down at you cutely, the corners of his lips curling when he tilts his head.

“of course you aren’t,” you reassure, “just wondering why you’ve been so touchy lately, not that i mind or anything but you can’t possibly think i haven’t noticed.” mingyu doesn’t respond, instead choosing to take your hand and lead you to your room. you can already infer what he wants and when he motions for you to lean against the headboard you obey. he straddles your thighs and pulls you into a kiss, bringing one of your hands to his hair. you pull on the hair at the back of his head and deepen the kiss.

mingyu pulls away from the kiss to tug at your shirt, glancing up at you for permission. you wordlessly nod and once mingyu’s unclasped your bra you take the chance to remove his shirt as well. leaning forward you attach your lips to his jaw, trailing wet kisses down his neck. you bask in the high-pitched whimpers mingyu lets slip past his lips, groaning against his skin. at this mingyu only whines louder.

“you’re so pretty for me, puppy,” the pet name has mingyu shivering, and you feel his hips grind against yours ever so slightly. you shuffle out of your bottoms, now laying completely naked under him. you untie the drawstring on mingyu’s sweats and help him out of them, smirking at the dark patch already present on his underwear. “desperate, aren’t we?”

mingyu nods pathetically, his frame shaking above you. you slip his underwear off and grip his cock, watching as whines escape his lips at the feeling. your hand pumps his length, toying with the head and using the precum as lube. by now your poor boy is withering above you, his hands shaking and struggling to hold his body up.

“please...i need more…” his voice is shaky when he speaks and you smirk at his begging.

“aw, poor little puppy is so desperate he can’t even speak.” deciding to take pity on him, you guide his cock to your folds, teasingly rubbing his head against your core. the sensation has you moaning as well but you bite your lip, holding back your noises.

mingyu whines from above you. “no, don’t do that,” your eyebrow quirks, “please, i want to hear you.” your eyes widen the slightest bit at his words. mingyu rarely voiced out his wants. of course, he let you know what he liked but besides the basics he usually followed your lead, doing what you asked and only ever saying anything when he didn’t feel comfortable (which wasn't often, he was always on board with your plans). it’s not that you didn’t allow him to, and he does like what you two do now, mingyu was just shy. you look up at him and he flushes, averting eye contact. “or don’t. it’s okay, you don’t have t-” you cut him off with a kiss, using your free hand to pull him closer to you.

“hey, gyu, it’s alright. you don’t have to apologize. does puppy like to hear how good he’s making me feel? Is that it?’ he whimpers at your words, now rutting his hips against your core. you moan, not holding back this time. you guide his cock inside you, the two of you sighing when his hips are flush against yours.

“no cumming without my permission, you know that right?” you warn. he nods desperately, his hold on your hips tightening as he tries not to fuck himself into you. “good boy, you can move now.” with your permission he thrusts his hips up, immediately hitting your sweet spot. you muffle your moans into his shoulder before you remember what he said and pull back, your moans and his whines filling the room.

you grip onto his shoulders, “harder, is that really all you can do? how pathetic.” with the way you stuttered through the sentence anyone would be able to tell you were lying, but you knew mingyu would be too far gone to even notice. and you were right. mingyu had his face buried into your neck, nipping at the skin and whimpering with every thrust. at your words he mewled, his hold on your hips tightening and his pace quickening.

you were shameless with your moaning, releasing every sweet sound against his ear. mingyu wasn’t lying when he said he liked your noises, somehow fucking deeper into you the more you moaned.

his thrusts quickly became sloppier and his whines became higher, and his trembling thighs were a dead giveaway that he was close.

“is pup gonna cum? does my sweet puppy want to cum?” mingyu finds himself nodding again, begging and pleading to please let me cum, i’m so close please. “make me cum first then maybe i’ll think about letting you cum too.” mingyu immediately moves one of his hands down between your legs, circling your clit with his thumb as he moves in and out of you. the feeling has your toes curling, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. mingyu’s thrusts don’t falter as he works you to your orgasm. you cum with a loud gasp, wrapping your legs around his waist and clenching around him. he works you through your orgasm and when you catch your breath you force him to pull out.

“what was that for?” he stops whining when you push him down onto his back, straddling his legs and gripping his cock.

“cum whenever you need to, puppy.” he nods and you rub his head with your palm, your other hand stroking his shaft. mingyu throws his head back, beautiful and drawn-out moans leaving his lips. he grips the sheets when he orgasms, his lips shaping into a quiet moan. you keep pumping him and he looks down at you when you don’t stop, his eyes confused and worried as he tries to connect the puzzle pieces in his brain.

“did you seriously think i was going to let all of that go? really, mingyu?” his eyes widen when he realizes what you’re referring to and he goes to explain himself but you beat him to it. “no, mingyu. you knew exactly what you were doing. this entire week you’ve been nothing but a tease and had the nerve to act as if you weren’t doing anything! such a little slut.”

your palm is still rubbing his head and you dig your thumb into his slit lightly, watching as mingyu thrashes against the pillow at the overstimulation.

“please, i’m sorry okay. i really am,” he interrupts himself with a loud moan, “i won’t do it again. just no more. too sensitive.”

you shrug at him, “you remember your safeword, right baby?” he nods defeatedly and recites it, making you smile. “good boy, puppy. say it if you need to.” your wrist makes quick work to pleasure him, your grip tightening.

It’s not long before mingyu’s toes are curling and his thighs are trembling. he cums for the second time, his eyes teary and nothing but a gasp leaving his lips. he pants, expecting you to be done but whimpers pitifully when your strokes don’t slow. he’s staring down at you with hazy eyes, shaking his head and thrashing his body, doing his best to get away from your touch.

you slow your hand. “just one more puppy, just one more and it’s done, okay? It’s okay to say your safeword if you need to,” you lean up to kiss his cheek, “you’re doing so good for me.” he nods, leaning into your touch when you kiss away the stray tears that fall from his eyes.

once mingyu’s calmed down your pace goes back to normal. his hips are thrusting up into your hand, hands gripping the pillow above him tightly. you press a kiss to his thigh and rub your palm against his head again. a strangled moan rips out of his throat when he cums for the third time that night, his back arching off the mattress.

his eyes are closed when you look at him again and you would’ve believed he was sleeping if it weren’t for his hand weakly reaching out for yours. you coo, intertwining your fingers and kissing his knuckles. “oh, puppy. you were so good for me,” you go to pull away to clean up and mingyu whines sadly, his grip on your hand tightening. “okay, baby, okay. i’m right here, i’m not leaving.”

you’re still straddling his thighs so you’re grateful you only have to lean down slightly to pick up your shirt from earlier. you use the shirt to clean yourself then move to clean mingyu. it’s difficult with one hand but you manage to wipe mingyu’s stomach and soft cock quickly, shushing him with kisses when he whimpers at the fabric rubbing against his sensitive member.

you mindlessly toss the shirt across the room before repositioning the two of you so you’re under the covers, mingyu’s head tucked under your chin. his eyelids are heavy, no doubt exhausted after the three back-to-back orgasms, but you can tell that he has something to say. you hum and stroke his hair, waiting. it comes after a moment. “i'm sorry for teasing you this week…i just didn’t know how to approach you with what i wanted.”

“it’s okay, baby, i understand,” and you mean it. the two of you have been dating for a couple of months now and while you weren’t ashamed of vocalizing your wants, you knew mingyu was just naturally shy, especially when it came to topics like these. “which is why i’m proud of you for telling me what you told me earlier, i’ll be sure to keep it in mind and be more vocal for you in the future,” your tone is playful and teasing, and mingyu whines and nuzzles his head further into your shoulder in response. “no need to be embarrassed, puppy. you can tell me anything, alright? even if it’s just something you want to try,” he opens his mouth to say something and you answer his question before it’s even out, “don’t worry, if i’m uncomfortable with it i’ll tell you, and we can stop whenever we need to. we have a safeword for a reason.” you reassure. mingyu nods gratefully and brushes his lips against your neck before drifting off to sleep, holding you closer to him.

after that night mingyu became more open about his interests and wants in bed. you tried multiple new things together and while some were misses (like the time he tried domming - per his request - and immediately after cuddled into you and explained, “i can’t do it! It just feels weird, definitely not for me,” you laughed at that and kissed his forehead before adding on, “i prefer domming, anyway.”), most of them weren’t and they added to your sex life greatly (not that it wasn’t good before, it was just different when they were ideas mingyu chose to dive into). none of his requests were ever denied by you either, not because you forced yourself to do it or anything, but because they were all things you had been interested in as well, and you couldn't be more glad that you got to explore such things with your sweet boy.

__________________________________

[foli-vora]

more than words, pt.2

A/N: Really wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction to pt.1 so thank you all so much for your likes, reblogs, kind words and support! I had a few requests to make a taglist so I’ve done it at the bottom - let me know if you’d like to be added! (and I hope I haven’t forgotten anyone) so - on with the show!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing

pt.1 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

You startle when your phone vibrates on the coffee table, the sudden and abrupt noise of it quick to drag your attention away from the true crime documentary playing across your TV screen. You eye it from your spot on the couch, so far, yet only a mere reach away if you could be bothered to stretch the distance. Your eyes fall back to the TV, happy to just ignore it and address it when you eventually have to move from the cocoon of blankets and pillows you’ve surrounded yourself with, but when the reminder alert sounds two minutes after receiving it, a small voice in the back of your head pipes up, saying it could be something important and you sigh tiredly.

The effort to move pulls a low groan from you and you stretch out, snatching the device from the table and back into the warmth before you could tumble onto the floor and really have something to grumble about.

Hey Benny’s mystery girl, how’s your night going?

The text sends flutters through your stomach, your hands immediately clamming up with a brief wave of nerves. This was the guy that Benny was setting you up with – an apparent very close friend and someone who clearly meant a lot to him. Why did you feel so much pressure to make a good impression?

Blankets, cushions and crime show now forgotten, you straighten up and let your fingers hover over the keypad in contemplation.

Do you play it cool? Act like you have a brimming social life, full of fun and endless options, and are not currently sat at home on a Friday night in your pyjamas watching Netflix, eating an excessive amount of snacks? No. No, you shouldn’t put a false image out there. Honesty is the best policy.

Hey yourself mystery fish. It’s a nice and relaxed night on my end, how about yours?

You leave it at that, briefly wondering if you should quickly chuck your phone on airplane mode, delete the message before it could go through and start again.

Did it sound boring? Is that the kind of image you were throwing out there? Maybe you should’ve acted like you were at least doing something productive. But then… what if Benny was there to call you out on your bullshit, knowing you literally have nothing better to do? He’d gladly do it, too.

You roll your eyes at yourself, wondering why you even cared what this mystery man thought about you and your weekend rituals when you had literally never even met. You were who you were, and that was that. If he didn’t like it, then he could take his handsome face and pretty brown eyes elsewhere.

I’m jealous. Stuck out with the guys and all I can think about is sleeping.

Scratch that. Maybe he was a man after your own heart, after all. A picture of a tray of tequila shots and lemons wedges comes through, another text quickly following which had you giggling quietly to yourself –

I’m too old for this shit.

You grin at your screen, opening your camera and snapping a quick picture of your blanket covered legs, snack covered coffee table and bright TV screen before sending it with a little smirking emoji. You’re not disappointed when he replies almost immediately.

Now I’m really jealous – are those Doritos?

Nacho cheese!

The one and only acceptable flavour. Is that Forensic Files? I binged the shit out of that the other day!

OMG it’s so good!

-

Surprisingly, your eyes didn’t feel as heavy as you thought they would when your alarm drags you from sleep the next morning. You could even say you were looking forward to waking up, which was not how your Saturday mornings usually played out.

Immediately you reach over for your phone and unlock it, smiling like an idiot at the Home safe :) text waiting for you. You chew your lip as you scroll through the many bubbles of conversation, stomach twisting in delight as you re-read through the topics you managed to bounce through in the few hours of texting before you had to call it quits at 2:14am and send a final – Goodnight Frankie x

You had paced your apartment after that, ringing your hands together anxiously and eyeing the clock as the seconds ticked past, scowling at your reflection in the mirror as you took your worries out on your teeth, scrubbing them much harder than necessary. Was a kiss too much? Is it too early for that kind of thing? You had only literally just started talking. Should you quickly text and say it was an accident? It’s not like you can say you sent it to the wrong person – the message had his fucking name in it.

The sound you made when you got a – Sweet dreams mystery girl x – in return wasn’t even remotely human and the words swirled around your head long after you fell asleep.

The reservations you had originally developed on being set up, yet again, quickly dissipated the longer you and Frankie exchanged messages. There had been no awkward block of nothing between texts, no dragging up mediocre subjects to keep the conversation rolling… it had just flowed so effortlessly, so naturally – something which had never happened before with Benny’s previous candidates. The only other candidate that you had managed to have a comfortable conversation with was Will, and that was only after you had both agreed that there was no attraction between the two of you.

Over text, Frankie seemed funny – quick witted and sarcastic – and often had you snorting into your drink over a comment or joke made at his own or his friends’ expenses. No, you weren’t even remotely hesitant about this anymore. If anything, your evening of conversation just made you that much more eager to meet him.

It’s much later in the day when you finally message him, having kept the temptation to message him at bay while you tidied up, keeping it short and sweet with a, How’s the head? You chew your lip, eyes flicking over the message with thoughtful eyes before quickly tagging a little kiss on the end and pressing send. Not even two minutes later, your phone goes off on the coffee table and the clammy hands return tenfold when you read over the message a good fifteen times.

Can I call?

Shit. Shit. He wants to call? And like… talk? With voices? What if you stutter? Choke? Oh god, your throat’s dry. It’s dry – how can you talk with a dry throat? You can’t. Fuck. Fuck. Drink – you need a drink –

You quickly run to the kitchen, filling a glass of water and swallowing it down as quickly as you could, not at all caring that it half spills down your chin and onto your jumper. You gasp for air when you finish, slamming the glass down and catching the drips of water from your chin with the back of your hand. You slide across your floor as you run back out to your couch and grab your phone, typing a quick reply.

Yeah sure.

Too casual. Was that too casual? Should you have added a kiss? Shit – it’s already sent. It’s fine. It’s fine. He asked a short question, and he got a short answer. It makes sense. It’s fine. You yelp when your phone starts to vibrate in your hand, his contact name flashing across the screen.

Oh God.

Oh God.

He’s calling. He’s somewhere out there, phone to his ear, waiting for you to answer and you’re what – standing in your lounge and looking at your phone, watching it ring, like an idiot? What are you doing?

You inhale deeply, clearing your throat a little before swiping the green icon.

“Hi,”

Oh God, what was that? What was that tone?

“Hey. Sorry – looking at my phone screen and trying to reply was making my eyes feel like they’re exploding.”

His voice is deep, hoarse from his night of drinking, and overwhelmingly pleasant to listen to. It brings a flush of warmth across your cheeks, an electric tingle across your skin.

You laugh softly, “It’s alright. Tequila wasn’t a good idea, then?”

He grunts quietly and your stomach tightens, throat suddenly dry again at the suggestive sound.

“It never is.” He groans, melting into a long yawn and you start to feel a little guilty. Did your text wake him up?

“I’m sorry, I should let you sleep –”

“No! No, it’s fine. I uh – I really want to talk to you… if you’re not busy.” He adds onto the end, almost nervously. 

“I’m not busy,” you reassure quietly, smiling shyly down at your lap. “I’m all yours.”

He chuckles lowly, and the sound settles deep in your belly, “Good.”

You don’t understand how conversation could just be so... easy with someone you’ve never met. For a brief moment, you worry you might be talking too much, maybe boring him, but when he keeps asking questions, encourages you to continue, you think that maybe he doesn’t mind, maybe he actually is just interested in what you’re saying.

When dinner comes around, you’re in a fit of giggles as you prepare your food, listening to pots and pans bang and clash on the other end as Frankie prepares his own meal. You cook together, eat together, and then settle in front of Netflix together, debating back and forth on what to watch. The evening melts into night, one movie turns into two, and eventually conversation dies down.

Sometime in the night, you roll over, briefly waking to fix and fluff the pillow under your head when a sound makes you pause. Your head jerks up and you look around, finding yourself sprawled across the couch, and a blanket twisted around your legs.

Glancing over to your phone to check the time, you touch the screen and blink in surprise when you see your phone call is still connected with Frankie, who’s quiet on the other end. You move to press the red button but freeze when a soft snore sounds from the device, and a warm flood of affection grows in your heart and spreads throughout your chest.

He’s asleep.

You listen a moment longer, smiling tenderly when more quiet snores reach your ears. Instead of hanging up, you bring the phone closer, tucking it just beside your pillow before laying your head back down and closing your eyes, letting the quiet breathing soothe you back to sleep.

If the strong butterflies turning your stomach were anything to go by, you were in serious trouble.

+

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh​ @peterhollandkait​ @sara-alonso​ @starlightsearches​ @bookishofalder​ @empress-palpat1ne​ @shadowolf993​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @canyonmirrors​ @eoz-stuff​ @blackonemasie​ @layniapetrovnaaa​