#like I don’t know how else to say it but it just is. life is not easy on her it is always ready to CLOBBER her

[neckromantics]

Can we please talk about how often vampires are seen having infatuations with the living, simply because they’re… well, living? How Astarion's vampiric nature would have him frequently mesmerized by just how alive you are??

Pt1.

(nsfw warning. oops. It's mostly fluff tho. there is kinda breathplay in this. i didn't mean to, but-)

Astarion who, smitten as he is, rests his head against your chest during one of your regular lazy morning cuddles. He’s not so covertly listening in on the pounding of your heart. Bare skin sensitive to every brush of his fingertips as he traces them up and down the softness of your side, tapping along to each solid thud as it beats away for him. You try not to squirm too much in fear of jostling him out of whatever dreamlike state he’s fallen into, but you’ve no need to worry. Your soft breathing—the subsequent rise and fall of your belly— is only lulling him further and further into that rare state of tranquility.

After a while, he’ll relocate a little further down. One pointed ear presses tight to the tender skin of your ribs as he seeks to be even closer to the sound, and this time, you can’t stop yourself from squirming. It’s his hair that does you in. The pale curls at the back of his neck are so silky soft against your flesh that it just about tickles, and the goosebumps that start to crawl their way up your arms only get worse each time he readjusts. He sounds so drowsy when he shushes your giggles, and when you insist you can’t help it, that it's his fault, he shushes you a second time. As if the sound of your laughter isn’t precious to him all on its own.

Astarion, who often finds himself with his lips to your pulse point without really knowing how he got there. You’ll be sat by the fire having idle chit-chat, and the next thing you know, he’s pulling your joined hands up toward his mouth as it’s your turn to speak. The first time it’d happened, you thought maybe he wanted a bit of a snack or something (not that he’s really ever done so without asking, first. Even though you’ve said about one thousand times that the offer is always on the table), but when you turned to glance at him, there wasn’t an ounce of hunger in those ruby eyes of his. He was listening to you as intently as always. Even nodded to encourage you when your sentence trailed off a bit in your confusion.

You’re not entirely sure he knows he’s doing it, or why he’s doing it for that matter, but you couldn’t be more wrong.

There’s a general warmth radiating from you that, despite Astarion’s best efforts in the past, he’s always been magnetized to. But here? Where his mouth stays poised? It’s a heat like nothing else. The steady pulse of blood—of life—calls out to him like a siren song, and while the hunger is there (will always be there), there is also something else. Something more, perhaps? A feeling he can’t quite put a name to. It’s a comfort, maybe. An assurance, he reasons to himself. That steady thump of life beneath his lips is proof enough that you’re still here with him.

Anyway.

Conversations continue without a hitch now-a-days, despite his voice being a little more than muffled with his lips jammed against whatever pulse point he can find. But, you don’t mind because while you can’t see him smiling, you sure can feel it.

Astarion, who gets struck with such a strange, desperate need to feel your breath that he has to lift his hand to your lips as he sinks deep into your warmth. Mouth half-open from your previous slack-jawed whining, not even a moment passes before you’re pressing sloppy, wet kisses to the cool skin he’s offered up to you, lids heavy with lust as you try and fail to keep your eyes focused on your lover. It still baffles him how you never miss a beat—not with him, anyway—not even when he’s got the entire bottom half of your face cupped beneath a firm hand.

His own mouth can't stop exploring every inch of flesh it can reach. He says your name but it sounds more like a thank you, fangs pricking against the inside of the arm you've got wrapped around his neck as your heels dig into the meat of his ass to nudge him forward still. Your fingers curl into his hair, getting a good handful that you'd never dare to pull. It's a gentle guiding that drives him mad—the way you herd him ever closer with such a tender touch—as if he isn't pinning you into the mattress with the majority of his weight already.

While his breaths are unneeded, they quickly match pace with the ones you’re puffing against his hand. Hitching into a gasp that he can’t think to contain when your moaning sends vibrations all the way up to his elbow. Your quick gulps of air stutter beneath him as the two of you get your bearings, and your next exhale is so sharp as his hips jerk against yours that it practically whistles out between the spaces of his fingers.

Astarion doesn't think he's ever heard anything more perfect in all his undeath.

(Me quietly to myself: what kind of kink is this.)

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 tav #astarion headcanons #astarion smut

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that own my mind, body, heart, and soul

in other words, this is a collection of my favorite jk fics on tumblr! if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, pls remember to support the authors by interacting with their post.

➺ bitchin - by @kinktae

summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook.

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

➺ hotter than hell - by @chateautae

summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

➺ jump then fall (into you) - by @writtenwhalien

summary: bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

➺ too late to dream - by @kookslastbutton

summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

➺ the forgotten spaces- by @oddinary4bts

summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

➺ when the end comes - by @oddinary4bts

summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook? **sequel to the forgotten spaces

➺ falling - by @starshapedkookie

summary: soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm.

➺ love alive - by @jamaisjoons

summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.

➺ changes in between - by @taegularities

summary: Becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into - but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.

➺ falling skies - by @fortunexkookie

summary: Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. You used to be friends, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.

Despite the teasing and fighting, Jiyeon realized how Jungkook felt about you long before he did - it was a twin thing - and if you were her sun, and he was her moon, then she just wished she could show you how he reflected your light.

➺ sugarplum elegy - by @bymoonchild

summary: You know no bounds nor depth with Jungkook. While your fuck buddy loves sleeping in your bed and doing laundry for you with his favourite fabric softener, you are in love with a mysterious honeyed, velvety voice on Soundcloud. All’s fine, until you find out that the voice that metaphors your heart to a sweet sugarplum melody actually belongs to the boy who has been taking up a special spot in your bed and in your heart, strumming at your heartstrings all this while. Or, Jungkook has one braincell, but it’s heart-shaped.

➺ an abundance of mondays - by @diortae

summary: "why the fuck would it be easy? you’re disgustingly in love with your best friend. of course it’s complicated.” he pauses to roll his eyes, as if he hasn’t just laid out the most secret parts of you here in the middle of the campus dining hall.

➺ five dates - by @kpopfanfictrash

summary: “Ten dates,” he nods, smile tugging at his lips. “Ten dates, to decide if you want this – want me – or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,” he says, oddly soft, “to fall in love with me.” Which then becomes five.

➺ here comes the bride, all dressed in pride - by @hansolmates

summary: You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend

➺ if i told you - by @gukyi

summary: in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him.

#bts fic rec #fic recs #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x oc #bts angst #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #jimin angst #jimin smut #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #bts fan fiction #fic rec list #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #seokjin angst #seokjin smut #bts masterlist #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader

[brainrot-of-a-thot]

//opens the door and slams my req on the table//

I have come to you today with a marvelous idea, my lord/lady!

Beach day! With Furin + Shishitoren boys!

Their reaction to you asking them out to the beach. Their reaction to seeing fem!reader wearing a cute yet sexy bikini. Some pervs tryna flirt with our dear reader.

Teehee.

beach daze.

or, they underestimated the power of bikinis, featuring: sakura haruka, hajime umemiya, suo hayato, jo togame, hiragi toma, choji tomiyama, ren kaji, kiryu mitsuki, nirei akihiko

a/n: y’all this was supposed to be another headcanon format thing and uh… I got a little crazy. let me know if you like this format (and if I should keep it in the future)

c/w: fem!reader, beach shenanigans, alcohol consumption, established relationships, group beach day!!!, aged up characters, language, possessive!boys!!, mostly sfw, suggestive/spicy content, headcanon format

↳ bikini blindside (or, how they fuck with your bikini)

↳ oh, god. okay, eyes up. just focus on her eyes. don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down — oh, shit.

sakura haruka ↦ flustered to the max. has never seen so much skin in his damn life. tries desperately to keep his eyes above your collarbones, but they keep slipping, running along your creamy skin and curves, noting the way your skin tone makes the color of the bikini pop. he’s trying desperately to fight off a hard-on — you may be his girl, but right now, you’re half naked, and that’s only something he’s imagined late at night in his room and his brain is absolutely short-circuiting right now. someone help him, please.

nirei akihiko ↦ a bumbling, fumbling, mumbling, scattered mess. his eyes are going everywhere, landing on everything and nothing at once, but somehow are always drawn right back to the skin nearly flooding out of your biking top. nirei knew you had some nice boobs; he’s felt them against his chest many times when you hugged him, but seeing them like this — oh, lord, oh no, what were you just saying? he’s trying to pay attention. he swears. but god, he desperately wants to hold them right now.

↳ everyone else here is wearing the same thing. it’s not that big of a deal, it’s just skin — holy shit.

ren kaji ↦ convinced himself he wouldn’t be affected at all, but is combusting at the sight. your skin just looks so smooth and soft, your curves so tantalizing, your boobs nearly falling out of the top and your ass jiggling so deliciously when you walk. your bikini looks more like lingerie to him, and he’s stuck between wanting to openly stare forever and cover your body so that no one else can see (which would unfortunately include him).

hiragi toma ↦ hiragi tries his hardest to be a gentleman — he doesn’t want to openly gawk at you and make you feel sexualized, but he can’t help it. his eyes are just naturally drawn to the strings at your hips, at the way they hug your soft curves so alluringly. can’t help but mentally point out just how much the color makes your eyes pop. can’t help but stir in his shorts at the thought of dragging you off somewhere to look at you in a less innocent way.

↳ goddamn, baby. how am I supposed to keep my hands off of you now?

hajime umemiya ↦ hands on you. lips on you. arms around you. body pressed against yours. umemiya is shameless in the way he ogles and gropes your body, spewing praises and pet names like liquid sin. he absolutely loves seeing you this way — it drives him up the wall with want, makes him want to hold your body to his forever and never let it go. don’t be surprised if he occasionally drags you away from the group to grope you a little more sensually.

jo togame ↦ he can’t keep his hands off of you; albeit in a more subtle way. from skimming his fingers down your ribs to fiddling with the strings at your hips, togame just wants to touch you. the way the bikini hugs your smooth body has him worked up inside, trying desperately to keep it from showing on the outside, and the only way to placate his urges is to touch you. though, if you two are in the water, he may rub his palm between your legs or guide yours between his, just so you can see how much it really affects him.

suo hayato ↦ grabs your ass. a lot. if he isn’t grabbing it, he’s coming up behind you and pressing himself against it using the guise of a hug. suo simply loves your ass; especially so in a bikini. he’s always had a thing for panties — so obviously something like this would be no different. he’s very conscious about how he touches you, though. he doesn’t want to bring others attention to what’s his.

↳ oh, that’s what you’re wearing? it looks so good on you. that color/style suits you, baby.

kiryu mitsuki ↦ one hundred percent matches with you. if your bikini is flowery, he will wear flower-patterned shorts. funny looks be damned. he just likes to dress up with you, and he doesn’t care what looks he gets because of it. definitely finds you sexy as hell in a bikini — and will make sure you know it later tonight.

choji tomiyama ↦ hype man, hype man, hype man. really, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. choji will hype you up. though, with your bikini on, he’s using words like ‘sexy’ and ‘hot’ far more than he’s using ‘cute’ or ‘adorable.’ isn’t ashamed to catcall/whistle at you. nor is he ashamed to be caught staring; by you, or anyone else. that’s his, after all.

↳ wet your whistle (or, what they drink at the beach)

↳ if the average human body is 60% water, then they’re 99% water.

sakura haruka ↦ he only drinks water. if someone tries to put something alcoholic in his hand, he’s throwing it back immediately.

nirei akihiko ↦ has been shitfaced a total of once in his life. never again. also, water is far healthier and you should drink more of it, especially in this heat.

ren kaji ↦ kaji just doesn’t like the fuzziness in his head and body when he drinks. he prefers to always be perceptive, and alcohol dulls his ability to do that.

↳ keg kings

hajime umemiya ↦ good lord, this man’s alcohol tolerance is way too high. he can drink a twenty-four pack and barely stumble. one hundred percent will do a keg stand and look absolutely marvelous doing it.

choji tomiyama ↦ drinks straight from the keg. he doesn’t care. alcohol tolerance is incredibly low, but at least he’s an amusing drunk. will do a keg stand and face plant in the middle of it.

↳ mojito sippers

kiryu mitsuki ↦ to be honest, you’ll probably drink more of his drink than he will. it’s not that he hates alcohol; in fact, kiryu quite enjoys it. he’s just more impartial towards light and fruity drinks. and he loves sharing indirect kisses with you.

suo hayato ↦ likes to be buzzed, but not drunk. does have a particular liking to sweeter alcoholic drinks, and he has to watch himself to make sure he doesn’t drink too much. he’s absolutely intolerable when he’s drunk (according to you, who has been the only one to ever witness it).

↳ nurses the same can of beer the entire time they’re on the beach.

hiragi toma ↦ he likes a drink, but doesn’t like the feeling of being buzzed or drunk. he will do that occasionally and in certain situations, but for a day at the beach, he’d rather just sip on something and have fun with you.

jo togame ↦ you’re more likely to catch togame with a ramune than a can of beer — but he does indulge himself every once in a while. he’s very conscientious to drink water as well, so that the effects of the alcohol aren’t as severe on his body. (secret; he’s an extreme lightweight)

↳ take a dip (or, who gravitates to the water and who prefers sand surfing)

↳ takes to the water like a goddamn fish.

hajime umemiya ↦ with or without you, umemiya is in the water. it’s his favorite part of the beach — though he finds the most enjoyment when you’re in the water with him. will have you climb on his back so he can show you that he can swim with you sitting on his back. mother fucker knows how to do every stroke in the known universe.

choji tomiyama ↦ doggy paddle. that’s all choji knows how to do. but it doesn’t stop him from swimming out into the deep ends, sending you into a straight panic every time. he can keep himself afloat, but can’t keep both of you afloat; so for the most part, you can only really hold his hand or shoulder unless his feet can reach the bottom. either way, being in the water is fun with him — because he will initiate a splash battle with everyone except you.

hiragi toma ↦ you know those people who just float on their backs in the water with their eyes closed, just completely relaxed? yeah, that’s hiragi. in some cases, you think he may have actually fallen asleep while bobbing there in the waves — but he’s perfectly awake. will let you use him as a makeshift floatie when your legs get tired.

↳ doesn’t mind the water, but needs frequent breaks from it. doesn’t like it when his fingers prune up.

sakura haruka ↦ he’s in and out quick. depending on how hot he is, he may soak in the water for a few minutes, but he doesn’t like pruny skin. he doesn’t mind standing near the shore with the waves lapping at his feet, though. will stay in the water for a bit longer if you beg him to. hates being splashed, and will yell at anyone who does it — you included.

↳ only if you’re in the water with them; be warned, they may try to dunk you or splash you.

jo togame ↦ will not splash or dunk you — will do it to others. togame actually becomes rather aggressive during splash wars; you learned that the hard way when choji splashed the both of you and togame sent a wave so powerful at him it dragged the smaller boy under the surface. if togame notices someone trying to splash you, he will block it with his own body. keeps his sunglasses on in the water. likes to wade through the water with you on his shoulders. togame can actually spend hours within the water, and even enjoys going off to the deep ends where his feet no longer touch the sea floor.

kiryu mitsuki ↦ one hundred percent holds you in the water. likes to pull you into his chest and wrap his arms around you while the water laps at your chests. kiryu isn’t the type to splash or dunk you; he might cup some water in his hand and pour it over your head randomly just to hear you squeal in surprise though. he also doesn’t like to stay in too long; thirty minutes max.

suo hayato ↦ never ducks his head below water — most of the time, he stays in areas where the water only reaches the middle of his ribs. has no issue dunking you under, though. but he doesn’t do it unprovoked. for the most part, he prefers to just chill in the water; but you shouldn’t expect any mercy if you start a splash war with him.

akihiko nirei ↦ floaties large enough for two. when in the water together, nirei often likes to sit inside a couples floatie. he likes to just ride softly on the waves with you. he will jump in the water or try to splash you every so often — with the claim that he’s just trying to keep you cool.

↳ ew, sea water? I’ll keep my ass here, thank you very much.

ren kaji ↦ hates the taste of sea water. hates feeling weird, slimy things rub against his foot. hates sudden drop offs. kaji is perfectly fine with swimming in a pool, but the sea is a no go. you’re better off just sitting in the sand with him, because you aren’t getting him in that water.

↳ you draw more eyes than just theirs (or, how they react to other men hitting on you)

↳ wants to throw hands, but doesn’t want to make a scene; will posture and attempt to glare the guy away.

sakura haruka ↦ sakura’s eyes are ice-cold and trained only on the guy. his arm is thrown around your bare shoulders and you’re practically crushed to his side. sakura won’t lash out, but he will make sure the man knows that there’s no chance for him. you’re sakura’s, and he will establish that as non-physically-aggressive as possible. (he’s still thinking about laying the douche out though.)

hiragi toma ↦ sometimes, hiragi is downright scary. and that’s never more apparent than when he’s glaring at a man who’s a little too close to you. his posture is set entirely to defense, and the full bulk of his power is displayed through his muscles. in the majority of cases, the sight of hiragi alone is enough to deter any advances; those that aren’t deterred immediately are in only a few seconds of hiragi glaring at them.

ren kaji ↦ man’s has the intent to kill in his eyes when someone checks you out or flirts with you. who knew that a man with a bowl cut and a sucker in his mouth could look so deadly? no one at the beach, obviously. kaji is a true guard dog, stuck to your side and snapping and snarling at any stranger. he just doesn’t want anyone to touch what’s his.

↳ is quite irked, but also too nervous to really say or do anything other than stay very close to you to ensure he doesn’t try anything funny.

akihiko nirei ↦ nirei hates it when other guys check you out or hit on you — but the poor baby hates confrontation just a little bit more. when you’re being hit on, you’re the one who’s defensive, deflecting the guys advances easily and motioning to nirei to solidify that you’re taken by him. if nirei starts to feel threatened by him or if he feels he’s being a little too aggressive towards you, he may employ the help of suo and sakura to scare the guy off.

↳ surprisingly, he isn’t all that bothered by it. you’re hot. of course people are going to hit on you. but you bet your ass he’s right there beside you, listening to everything the man is spewing and ready to (and will) throw hands if he needs to.

choji tomiyama ↦ he knows you’re hot. he knows some may look at your hand in his and wonder how the hell he managed to bag you. but despite that, choji feels secure in your relationship, so when someone is hitting on you, it doesn’t faze him. even when the man’s eyes fall lower than your chin he doesn’t particularly mind; he knows that’s his body, and this jerk would never have a chance. but choji does keep a close eye on the man’s hands, just in case he gets a little too gutsy in the face of choji’s apparent indifference. choji will drop him in .2 seconds.

kiryu mitsuki ↦ kiryu is one of the most mellow guys you’ve ever met. he’s soft spoken and gentle, and despite his inclusion in bofurin, he doesn’t particularly enjoy violence. as such, he’s not aggressive when another guy is hitting on you. he keeps a hand on you, however — wether it’s by holding yours or placing an arm around your waist, he subtly shows the guy that you are indeed taken. and just because he doesn’t particularly enjoy violence doesn’t mean he won’t lay a man flat should he get too ballsy.

suo hayato ↦ suo looks as unaffected as ever; that charming smile still fixed on his face, head tilted only slightly and visible eye closed — but rest assured, he is assessing everything about the man. he’s assessing his stance, his body, his intentions. suo isn’t irked by men hitting on you or checking you out. it’s just something that will happen, and in some ways, it makes suo feel good — because then he has that internal pleasure of being the arm you’re hanging off of. but he doesn’t do well with others trying to touch; that’s a hard no-no. suo will make him eat sand if he tries.

↳ don’t think about it, dude. just don’t. he puts off a presence so large and dangerous that no one would dare approach you — and the ones who do are pissing their trunks only seconds later.

hajime umemiya ↦ umemiya is very intimidating — even more so when he’s around you. of course, when he’s interacting with you it’s similar to watching a lovestruck puppy yap and bounce around their owner; but when he catches the gaze of a man who’s looking a little too intently at you, his entire demeanor changes. he looks less like a puppy and more like a snarling wolf ready to pounce. it certainly deters any potential suitors from you — and the ones who do get gutsy enough to approach when they believe he’s out of earshot are quickly scared away by a sudden and rather aggressive return. again, don’t even think about it, dude.

jo togame ↦ he’s been glued to your side since you arrived at the beach, scoping out the crowd of people from behind dark shades when he wasn’t paying attention to you. togame keeps his eyes primarily on the swarm of men that seem to be inching just slightly closer to your spot on the beach — he’s already caught a few staring openly at you, prompting him to squeeze you close to his body or pull you in for a kiss every time he did. he’s possessive, he can’t help that. and from the way you giggle and stare up at him all dazed, he gets the feeling you don’t mind it one bit.

omfg I had way too much fun imagining a beach day with all of these boys. like the way they would interact with each other urggghhh <3 amusement part headcanons next anyone?

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #jo togame x reader #hajime umemiya x reader #haruka sakura x reader #hayato suo x reader #nirei akihiko x reader #ren kaji x reader #mitsuki kiryu x reader #choji tomiyama x reader #hiragi toma x reader

[gay-dorito-dust]

hii!! I don't know if your requests are open but I love the way you write for the Batboys so I thought I'd request something ^-^

The batboys reacting to their s/o not saying "I love you" back when they end a call. This tiktok for reference.

(In case the link doesn't work https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTLW4JWj1/)

Idk if you'll see this but thank you!!

Dick

‘I’ll see you soon honey, I love you.’ Dick said on the other side of the phone.

‘See you soon, bye.’ You said cheerfully as you hung up the phone, trying your hardest not to break down with laughter. You could clearly see Dick’s face within your mind, looking down at his phone with the expression of a confused husky dog, head tilted to the side and a pout spread across his face.

For not once had you ever not said ‘I love you’ to Dick when ending a phone call, even when you were annoyed with him you still told him that you loved him, so this was completely out of the ordinary for you and you knew that Dick knew that too.

Which is why he was quick to call you back.

‘Hi! Yeah this is your BOYFRIEND speaking, you know the one you love and are devoted to loving for all of eternity, so do you not love me anymore now or?’

‘Of course I do what makes you think that sweetheart?’ You asked, trying not to laugh at Dick’s dramatics.

‘Well it doesn’t sound like it.’ You could practically hear him huffing. ‘I just want to be loved is that so much to ask for?’ He asks rhetorically.

‘Dick, you’re being dramatic.’ You tell him and he gasps on the other side. ‘Me dramatic? Never! All I ask is for my beautiful, stunning and perfect partner to say they love me before I go kick some ass, but no I’m asking too much apparently.’ Dick then huffs. ‘How mean.’ You heard him mutter under his breath.

‘Fine I love you! I love you very much so go kick all the asses for my honey! I love, love, love you!’ You practically shouted down the phone. ‘How was that for you mr dramatic?’ You add.

‘Mr dramatic loves you too very much.’ Was all he said before hanging up.

Dick never liked it when you didn’t say I love you, he gets very upset and doesn’t want to do anything else until you concede and tell him you love him as though your life depended on it. He was indeed a dramatic man.

Tim

‘Don’t stay up too late for me, I’ll be home soon I love you.’ He said.

‘Okay bye.’ Was all you replied with before hanging up the phone.

Tim knew damn well you weren’t doing much but hold back your laughter when you put down the phone after not saying ‘I love you’ like you normally did, and so through the process of elimination did Tim eventually come to the conclusion that this was all an elaborate prank.

‘I know this is a prank, you can cut it out now.’ Tim tells you the moment you picked up the phone.

‘Prank? Why would you think this is a prank?’ You asked.

‘You’ve not once forgot to tell me you love me in our past calls, so for you to do it now only is an indication of two things, one it’s a prank or I’ve done something wrong.’ He told you with certainty in his deduction.

You raised a brow. ‘And what makes you think that you didn’t do something wrong and I’m not mad at you?’ You were the one to ask this time as you could practically hear him think.

‘Because I didn’t.’ Was his only reply and you couldn’t help but giggle as you ask again. ‘Are you sure?’

Silence for a couple of second were what you were greeted with before being greeted with a ‘I’m a hundred percent certain.’

You sighed. ‘You’re right, it’s a prank, I’m sorry but I hope this I love you will set things right. So here it is: I love you Tim Drake.’

More silence and you were worried for a second before you heard him say ‘I love you too, don’t stay up too late for me please, we both can’t be sleep deprived that’s only reserved for me.’

Tim knew, he always does so there’s no point trying to prank him because he’ll know unless he’s caught off guard, though he won’t tell you is that he nearly shit himself when you didn’t and though he did something when he begin to think logically.

Jason

‘Okay I’ve got to head out on patrol now with Roy, I’ll see you as soon as I’m done chipmunk, I love you.’

‘See you soon jaybirdie, bye.’ You replied before quickly putting the phone done but as soon as you did, mentally counting down from three and when you got to one, your phone flashed with Jason’s contact almost immediately.

You knew he wasn’t going to let that slide once you started this little prank and he played right into your hands.

‘What was that.’ He asks.

‘What was what.’ You replied, acting as though you were confused.

‘You know what, the whole not saying I love you. it’s kind of out thing and so for you to not saying it is kinda throwing me off my grove, and Roy won’t stop saying how much of a simp I am. What even is a simp anyway?’ You couldn’t help but feel your smile grow wider at Jason’s rant and let out a small chuckle.

‘I’m sure Roy can tell you what a simp is, but I don’t see how me not saying I love you once is enough to throw you complete of your game.’ You replied as you could almost hear Roy laugh.

Jason sighs and you could imagine him rubbing his forehead. ‘Can you, can you just say it so I’m not thinking about it for the rest of the night, I don’t feel like bleeding out on our bathroom floor tonight.’ He says and you couldn’t help but feel yourself bend to his will a little before completely yielding entirely.

‘Fine, if it’ll make you feel better, I love you.’ You said and you could tell that took the weight off of his shoulders.

‘Thanks chipmunk, I love you.’ He said before hanging up, finally content to see the patrol through with a clear mind.

Needless to say Jason internally overthought himself when you didn’t say I love you once, it nearly drove the poor man insane and into doing something reckless. So it was good that you did say it when you did.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #Tim drake imagines #nightwing fluff #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagines

[mylifestylearedilfs]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ joost klein x tinder date!reader ࿐ྂ

ੈ✩‧₊˚ OCEAN EYES : mention of sex (but no smut) fluff ; use of alcohol ; imagine ; all is fictional ; english is not my first language

(part two)

, , ,

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ CREATING AN ACCOUNT on tinder wasn’t on your to do list, but after another failed attempt on meet your future ‘husband’ in real life, you decided to seek luck at this app. after choosing your best pictures, you set your profile with hope that you wouldn’t have to text with all of those weirdos that probably were on this site, asking themselves why i don’t have girlfriend?

you honestly couldn’t understand people (mostly the whole alfa men) on this kind of platforms, where they acted like they’re better than everyone else, but in reality they wouldn’t even say ‘hi’ to you. also what’s the point of having a dating app, if you can’t even properly ask the other person to date. you personally hated texting, it was the worst way to communicate, because you weren’t able to show your emotions clearly and it was easier to misunderstand the intentions.

you tried to ignore all suspicious looking people, but you lose hope, when even people your type were weird or impolite towards you. you were close to just delete app and forget about everything that happened. but then you received some kind of ‘super like’ from very good looking blonde man, the first thing that caught your attention was his bright blue eyes. how ironic, you thought. blonde hair and blue eyes, if he were a girl, he definitely would be miss universe. but god knew that he would be too powerful if he was a woman.

before you even checked his profile, you saw that he already messaged you. he already had big plus, because it was usually you who needed to start a conversation.

‘you & me, beer in an hour?’ okay, he definitely was really straightforward but you couldn’t tell that you didn’t liked it.

‘okay’

it was an irresponsible decision, but you couldn’t care less right now. you were truly tried of the endless conversations about nothing, you needed some adrenaline in your life. and even if it turn out that he’s a murderer, you will have an interesting story to tell your future kids — of course if you will survive in that scenario.

, , ,

it was almost twenty minutes after the set time, but you still waited like a fool, because you were curious if you were just scammed at this point. when your second cigarette started to slowly gutter out, you checked your phone to see if he tried to inform you about his lateness, but as you thought — nothing. you were honestly irritated that you couldn’t met a proper guy, not even for a relationship but just good sex, apparently you just missed to have someone close, in physical and mental way.

fuck it. you said to yourself and deleted this stupid dating app, right after you did that, you heard someone’s calling your name. before you turned around, you throw out a cigarette.

“i get it that i’m late, but you don’t have to ignore me” you saw the blonde guy in front of you, with two bottles of wine in his hands and two beer cans in his jeans pockets.

“so your real miss universe, nice to meet you” you said with a bit of irony in your voice, and he just laughed, giving you bootle of alcohol.

“or maybe i’m just in your imagination, guess we will never know” he said with smile, and you realised that he loved to laugh a lot, but honestly that was exactly what you needed now. some positive energy. “but now let’s go, shall we?”

, , ,

at first it was supposed to be quick meeting to get each other better and then probably forget about the existence of each other. but to your surprise it turned out that you were sitting in some sketchy looking place with joost for almost four hours already, and the fun only began.

you couldn’t believe that your perfect type of person was right in front of you and he was interested in you, which was the most unbelievable part. he was the first person that could make you laugh only by saying something random, or maybe it was because you were under the influence of weed, that you just smoked. either way his ability to turn every little thing into a joke was hilarious and you simply loved it.

suddenly you both became silent, but it wasn’t uncomfortable for you, which was also something new. all you could hear was the sound of wind and some other birds but you decided to interrupt the silence.

“you want to come to my place?” you said without thinking twice, well. . . let’s be honest your brain wasn’t working at all at the moment.

“to do what?” he looked at you with his typical smirk, sipping his beer.

“obviously to play monopoly” you said sarcastically, but underneath you had a little smile. “i want you to fuck me” you added and he seemed to be taken aback with your directness, as he watched you getting up.

“so you’re coming or i will need to please myself on my own?” you said, walking slowly in the direction of your house.

“you don’t need to tell me twice” he quickly said and you just chuckled as you felt his hands on your waist.

that was a great match, for sure.

, , ,

⇢ ˗ˏˋ thank you for attention! hope you liked it!

#joost klein x you #joost klein imagine #joost klein x reader #i love joost #stand with joost #joost x reader #eurovision imagines #imagine #x reader

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

#challengers x reader #challengers #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #taylor swift #so high school #ttpd #the tortured poets department #the anthology

[cuppajj]

Beast Ancients AU FAQ

I’ve seen a lot of asks in my inbox that are identical to each other, so I decided to put em all in one post and then some. This’ll be updated the more I develop the AU and the more info we get.

As a disclaimer, I am very new to CRK (as of December 2023) and I haven’t gotten to all the game or story modes yet (notably odyssey), so things are definitely bound to change + be elaborated on more! Anyway without further ado:

General

What are the Beast Ancients’ themes?

Vanilla is Penance, Lily is Sovereignty, Dragonberry is Pride, Cacao is Solitude, and Cheese is Conquest. I tried to keep them within the realm of their original meanings

Essentially my philosophy is: Penance is the acknowledgment (truth) that sins such as deceit exist in the world and must be cleansed. Sovereignty is an extreme form of freedom where one can have all the agency they wish, but can be just as silent about their presence/power as well. Pride is a byproduct of passion or sloth, boiling down to the adamancy of the subject. Solitude is a choice made with both resolution and apathy in various degrees, and lastly Conquest promises an abundant future at the cost of untold destruction.

If the ancients are bad, are the beasts good?

No, the old Beasts are still a threat. With a total of ten beasts to worry about, the situation on Earthbread is very dire. However, there is still hope left, and hope can go a long way.

Is there a new set of ancient heroes with soul jams?

No, and there likely won’t be. The Neo Beasts and first Beasts still have their respective soul jam halves, and both want each other’s.

Where’s Gingerbrave and his party?

Likely the Crème Republic, which becomes a refuge for many cookies after the rise of the neo beasts. They’re at the front of the resistance movement, working with Clotted Cream Cookie to plan how the beasts will be taken down.

What do the Neo Beasts think of their past selves?

Generally they see themselves as improved or improving. The only one who doesn’t feel that way is Frigid Cacao, who doesn’t reflect on himself that often.

Did they all corrupt at the same time?

Still working on that part. The timeline for beast ancients is a WIP, but for now, it’s likely that while they didn’t corrupt at once, they corrupted pretty close to one another. Cheese was likely first, followed by Lily. Vanilla was among the last to fall and evidently had it the worst.

Do the Neo Beasts still have kingdoms? How is life like there?

Answered here

What are the cookies of darkness doing?

As of writing (5/31/24) we don’t have a lot of info on the cookies of darkness in beast yeast, but at the very least I can say Dark Enchantress cookie may or may not know about Midnight Lily’s plan to destroy her.

How would legendaries react?

I admittedly don’t know everything about the legendaries to say yet, but they’re all alarmed to some degree. I can flesh them out the more I learn about them

Individual Neo Beast questions under cut!

Saint Vanilla Cookie

How do his powers work?

Answered here

Does he know he’s killing cookies?

Nope, he doesn’t see it as that and it would pain him to. He sees purification as a form of transition or ascension in itself, to put it simply; he might even envy those he turns to stardust, knowing his own tainted soul will be so much harder to liberate.

Why is he constantly crying?

He’s just like that. He’s just that big of an empath.

Has his relationship with Lily changed?

Saint Vanilla still cares very much about Lily, and may even be more open about his feelings towards her; but he admits the only reason why she’s still alive is because she convinced him to leave her for last. Lily very well knows that Vanilla, in his delusion, wants to purify her more than anyone else. Vanilla often pities her choice to stew in her tainted soul, but he respects her decision… at least the alternative is that they’ll someday be the only two cookies on Earthbread.

What happened to Black Raisin?

As the very first to witness his rise, she inadvertently became his very first martyr.

Where’s Custard Cookie III?

With his relatives in the Crème Republic, alongside the rest of Gingerbrave’s party. The kid has a hard time wrapping his head around what happened to Pure Vanilla, and it may be a blessing that he’s been largely focused on worrying about the well being of his uncle, Clotted Cream Cookie. As the head of the resistance, he’s been working tirelessly… is this what a king goes through too?

Shadow Milk’s opinion on Saint?

To put it simply, he starts out thinking that a delusional Vanilla will be easy to manipulate, but he soon finds out that Saint Vanilla is way smarter and more aware than made out to be. He knows Shadow Milk is with him, and he wants to purge him from his soul; but that is a process that may be harder than anything else. So in the meantime, Shadow Milk can watch as he continues on his path of Penance towards ascension, fighting back the resistance he creates before it can truly harm him. Essentially, Saint Vanilla isn’t trapped with Shadow Milk, Shadow Milk is trapped with Saint Vanilla.

Dragonberry Cookie

Is the skull on her head real?

Yes! It comes from a nondescript monster.

If Pitaya is imprisoned, where is Snapdragon?

With Tarte Tatin and/or Royal Margarine. Dragon City likely got taken over by Dragonberry’s kingdom, but they noped out of there as it happened. The two of them might’ve been the first few to recognize Hollyberry’s spiral into corruption and where it was headed

How is her family doing?

Alright for the most part, but they can feel Dragonberry’s influence in every aspect of their life now. While Royal and Jungleberry are technically still the king and queen, it’s only a figurehead role as Dragonberry is the true ruler. She still cares about her family very much, but she’s controlling and good at keeping them under her thumb. Dragonberry’s granddaughter Princess Cookie is the only one who objects this new way of life, and runs away from the palace.

How would the other dragons react?

The other dragons aren’t canon to CRK so they’re not canon to the au by extension, but just for this question, they’d be different levels of alarmed or concerned save for maybe Longan. I could see Ananas wanting a word with Dragonberry in particular esp since they’re both prideful cookies

Frigid Cacao Cookie

Does he ever go outside?

Very rarely, but it’s usually to observe the licorice sea or meet with the few denizens he has left.

Where is Dark Choco?

Still working on this part (waiting for Apathy pt 2 to come out so I have a better idea), but he’s likely alone by himself. He heard wind of his father’s corruption though and took it less well than he thought he would. Perhaps he’ll run into someone who feels the same?

Is his permafrost truly permanent or can the frozen citizens be thawed?

Technically yes, the permafrost can be thawed, but it’s a meticulous process since Cacao’s ice isn’t normal ice. It’s a cure that Crunchy Chip is looking for to save Caramel Arrow.

How does the licorice sea work for him and how did he come to tame it?

I can’t say how yet outside of the fact that it was a definitely cool and heroic thing for Dark Cacao to do, on the scale of taming the Black and White dragons. The sea, arguably a sentient monster in itself, and all of the creatures within it came to follow Cacao and Cacao only. Now it almost acts like an extension of himself: the beast can make the sea do whatever he wants, like acting as his shield, arms, or barrier, and the licorice horrors will vehemently defend him. There are tons of monsters roaming his frozen kingdom now.

Mystic Flour’s opinion on Cacao?

Working on it, but to some degree she knows Cacao is much stronger than he looks. She might see his apparent apathy for his frozen kingdom with fondness though.

Celestial Cheese Cookie

Is the Golden City still running or did she leave it to die?

It may still be running but in a scaled-down beta form. Cheese learned to accept the fact that what she’d built was entirely fake, but she didn’t move on from regaining what was lost. Her virtual Golden City serves as a blueprint for the kingdom she wants on Earthbread, and then some; with nothing in the barren desert to grow her kingdom, her brightened eyes turn elsewhere towards civilizations that could be brought into the fold. Such is the beginning of the Beast of Conquest’s terror.

She does sometimes visit her golden city, only sometimes. It doesn’t look the same; it’s not a paradise for her to escape to, but it is a promise of what she will have someday. This time, it will be no mirage, and there will be no one to threaten its destruction ever again.

Midnight Lily Cookie

What is her opinion on dark enchantress cookie?

DE is the source of insecurity for Lily, who regards herself as the weakest among all the beasts. Because she’s half of a complete whole, who was already half of another whole, she is passionate about reuniting her souls. While she is focused on expanding the influence of the faerie kingdom, her true goal is to track down Dark Enchantress Cookie and destroy her; but she knows she will need more help than just herself, and has considered asking for help from other vengeful allies.

Does she still guard the silver tree?

Yes, she still fiercely honors Elder Faerie’s wishes.

Have her relationships with the other neo beasts changed?

Ish, most notably her and Celestial Cheese are a little more on speaking terms; but they’re connecting through their potential partnership as Lily hopes she can help her take down Dark Enchantress. In return, she might help her expand her kingdom and take down Burning Spice.

If more FAQs come up, I will make a part two. Thank you for your interest!

#beast ancients au #pure vanilla cookie #hollyberry cookie #dark cacao cookie #golden cheese cookie #white lily cookie #crk #crk au #cookie run kingdom au

[whismizxal]

show me off dr3

── in which daniel ricciardo loves showing off his greek girlfriend.

── warning: google translated greek, some spelling and grammar mistakes, relationships, kind of suggestive? anything else I missed please let me know xx

f1 drivers. navigation.

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danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 645,922,192 others

danielricciardo be jealous or should I say να ζηλεύεις γιατί είναι ΤΟ ΚΟΡΙΤΣΙ ΜΟΥ. (be jealous because she’s my girl)

tagged; yourusername

view 11,221 comments

username absolute beauty

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⤷ danielricciardo you were a better teacher

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⤷ username DAMN OUTING HER LIKE THAT

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username he calls her baby 🤭🤭

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username you forgot to add a comma after the say.

⤷ username aren’t you just a ray of sunshine

────────────────────────────

────────────────────────────

DANIEL AND Y/N WERE IN LOVE.

there was no doubt about it.

the way their eyes glow when the other is mentioned or walks into a room is something that is out of a disney film. the quick glances of adoration they give each other are constantly caught on camera proving their love for each other further more.

the way he looked at her when she was talking made it seem like she hung the moon and the stars, and there wasn’t a soul who could get daniel to tear his eyes away from the girl he loved calling a goddess.

“daniel, you listening?” she asked softly, looking at him a smile which told him she had caught him staring at her.

“can’t lie baby, I wasn’t.” he responded sheepishly but never taking his eyes off her. “you’re just so beautiful.” he muttered as he went closer to her and stroked her cheek.

“how’s the greek going?” she asked with a soft smile as she looked into his eyes with complete affection.

“I think it’s going quite well. wanna hear me speak?” he spoke excitedly, a huge grin on his face as he asked the question.

“of course I do.” she replied, her smile matching his.

“εισαι η αγαπη της ζωης μου.” he says with a accent, a proud smile on his face. (you are the love of my life)

y/n laughed softly as blush crept on her face at his words. she reached up to kiss his cheek. “κι εσύ είσαι δικός μου.” she spoke sweetly. (and you are mine.)

“wait what does that mean?” he asked a little panicked as he goes on his phone to search it up, forcing a laugh out of her.

“I love you so much.” she tells him, grabbing his face to look at her.

he dropped his phone and kissed her with a smile, lifting her off her feet as they laughed into the kiss. “I love you too.” he says against her lips.

“I know, you love to show me off on instagram.” she giggled, running her fingers through his hair.

“can you blame me?” he responded, picking her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist, moving his hands to be under her thighs to hold her. “you’re so fucking beautiful and I need to make sure everyone knows it.” he says, kissing her cheek as she blushed.

“thank you for leaning greek. you don’t understand how much i appreciate it.” she whispers to him, leaning her forehead against his as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“of course love, got make sure your family can understand my vows.” he smiles smugly as he walks towards the sofa still holding her in his arms as he sits down.

“been waiting three years for you to ask.” she joked as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“don’t worry, I’ll ask soon. just don’t want you to be expecting it.” he said, kissing her head when he saw her cheeks turn red.

they both sat in a comfortable silence as daniel rested his head on y/n’s, stroking her thigh as he smiled at the thought of the engagement ring he bought two weeks ago that was hiding in one of his socks at the back of his drawer.

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danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 239,821,292 others

danielricciardo some more future wife appreciation

tagged; yourusername

view 10,922 comments

yourusername show me off 🤭🤭

⤷ danielricciardo course 🤭

⤷ username he’s in love in love

username looked at my bf and sighed cause why can’t he show me off like this

⤷ username cause if he did then people might try and take you away from him.

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⤷ username call me 😉

username future wife this, future wife that, make it present wife!

⤷ yourusername that’s what I am saying. I wanna be called his wife not his girlfriend 😔

⤷ danielricciardo all in due time baby

username yourusername if he gets you to wear a really nice dress and get your nails done, there’s a 95% chance he’s gonna propose

⤷ yourusername 🤭🤭 oml thank youuuu

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yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, and 282,627,911 others

yourusername HE PROPOSED IN GREEK. I AM GONNA BE HIS WIFEEEEEEEE 🪿🪿

tagged; danielricciardo

view 12,945 comments

username FINALLYY

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carlossainz55 finally did it I see

⤷ landonorris at least he no longer will say she’s his future wife, but just his wife

an; this is kinda of bad so I might end up re-writing this in the near future.

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#✧ . * 🛩️ whismizxal’s blog! #✧ . * 🪿 whismizxal’s stories! #✧ . * 🎧 whismizxal’s driverlist! #f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 social media au #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #dr3 #dr3 x reader #dr3 x y/n

[princessbrunette]

john b had these big firm hands.

not because you’d been studying them or anything, you just very quickly learnt this about him when you’d joined the group — the way the other pogues would complain about aches and knots in their back only to have it quickly resolved by the brunette. with the little crush you’d developed on him, you’d find yourself complaining more and more about your own pains — perhaps when on your period or after a long day, and he’d be happy to help you. that’s what he did, he was a problem solver.

what you failed to realise is how much john b enjoyed it too.

in a general sense, sure. like mentioned, he liked to help people and fix everyone’s problems for them— and being such an active group, it was often physical pains causing them strife. whether it would be a knuckle in popes calf or an elbow in jj’s shoulder, they were appreciative.

“you should be like, studying to do this for a living bro. you got a gift.” the blonde would comment after john b had cracked his shoulder, to which the brunette would shrug it off with a—

“yeah, like i can afford that.”

you don’t realise, but soon enough the routledge boy starts to pay a little more attention to you specifically, and no one knows or cares why enough to comment on it. he’d started to ask, instead of waiting for you to complain about it. asking ‘does this hurt? does this hurt?’ as he moves you in different positions because he thought you looked ‘a little stiff’ that day.

you liked it. you liked holding his attention. john b was the leader, somehow the main character in everyone’s life— so you revelled in the attention he’d give you whilst playing the group chiropractor. it made you feel special when he singled you out.

he seemed to have this belief, that you were way more tense than anyone else in the group. he’d hooked his fingers into the idea that because you happened to have anxiety, your body would too suffer. this might’ve been true, maybe you were more tense than everyone and it showed— probably naturally less comfortable around the group seeing as you were the newest addition, but the likelihood was that john b had only convinced you and everyone else of this because he just adored getting his hands on you.

he likes the way your skin feels soft compared to the callous palms and nicked fingertips of his own. he likes the way the fat of your flesh moulds and succumbs to his touch. he likes the way he’s developed enough natural strength over the years to manoeuvre you any which way he wanted, his own warm little rag doll for the time being that sent his imagination running rampant when he’d put you in more vulnerable positions. he loved the way your brows would furrow when he’d crack the right spot or dig his hands in the right place at the right pressure. the way your lips would part with a little whimper when there’s an audible crack.

his voice was what made it enjoyable for you a lot of the time. not that it didn’t feel great, but john b had a ‘talk you through it’ kind of voice. warm, kind, comforting, rumbles in your ear when he’s slotted up behind you, performing his magic until you click somewhere you didn’t think you could.

“how we feeling? hm?” he’d ask, and you could hear the casual smile in his tone without looking, a face that you didn’t have to look at with your eyes to know it was there because you’d seen it so many times.

his cock would always twitch when you’d respond. the prettiest, whiny tone when you were especially relaxed and off guard, a tone that even had jj’s ears perking up from across the room occasionally. “feels so good, john b.” now you didn’t have to say his name, too.

he told himself it was normal to feel that way about a friend as long as there was a boundary. you were pretty, and soft— he’d be a fool not to find that attractive. what he did feel guilty about, was the indulgence. it wasn’t gentlemanly of him, something he prided himself on being. he couldn’t let anyone know he’d continue the fantasy later on, replaying your satisfied mewls in his brain like a broken record, the sounds morphing and twisting, moulding like clay in the hands of his imagination as he attempts to twist it into sounds of sex. he can still feel the heat of your skin beneath his hands through his minds eye, but this time he’d be pushing your lower back down to make you arch as you take his dick deeper.

he recalls the squishiness of your thighs that one time he worked the knots out, and this time uses the memory to fuel the thought of pushing your thighs up against you whilst nuzzling his nose against your clit and lapping up the juices you’d leaked from him rubbing on your body prior. he hears it again, “feels so good, john b.” but this time your head is thrown back, your tits are spilling from that little bra that peeks from your shirts, your clits throbbing against his tongue.

he makes a mess on his fist each night he thinks about it, and wonders how often he can get away with touching you up under the guise of a massage.

#john b prompt

[ceoofyearning]

All I Want - Cassian

Pairing: Cassian x Bestfriend! Reader Summary: When Nesta Archeron dropped into Cassian’s life with the cataclysmic force of silver wildfire, you took one look at them and knew you missed your chance. There’s no fighting against a mating bond. But that hasn’t stopped the memory of him from haunting you since.  Except there he is, decades later, just across the room, watching you watch him. Rating & Warnings: T/M | Hurt & Comfort, angst to fluff, PAST Nessian, recreational mirthroot use, alcohol, suggestive but nothing explicit (lmk if i miss anything else) Word Count: 4.4k Links: Masterlist

A part of you had always craved to see the rest of the world, and when you got the chance to work in the Day Court three decades ago, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. With how things were, it seemed like the perfect excuse to leave. After all, it’s not as if you had a reason to stay. The mating bond between snapping Nesta and Cassian had made sure of that. 

In many ways, leaving felt like the easier choice - to shed your past and start anew in a court where no one knew you - a clean slate. Mother knows you needed one. 

Your work for Helion involves acquiring ancient texts and artifacts for the One Thousand Libraries of Day. It required you to travel all over Phythian, even as far as the continent to procure these items yourself. You adore your job and enjoy the freedom it affords you, but when you were given the opportunity to go back to Velaris to manage the satellite division connected to the Great Library, a part of you had been reluctant to agree. Coming back meant facing your past. And that, more than anything, was terrifying. 

It has been a few weeks since your return to the City of Stars. Although you didn’t have much time outside of work, you do try to maintain a semblance of a social life. Mor made sure of that. When you first met her a few centuries ago, Mor had taken one look at you, a broken, wingless half-Ilyrian female, and decided that the two of you must become friends. Perhaps she saw a piece of herself in you, in your defiance against a world that was out to get you. 

You had been close friends with Mor in the past, and the moment she heard you were back in town, she reached out to reconnect. You appreciated it immensely, of course. Going back and having to build a life for yourself in Velaris after all these years of being gone seems less daunting with a friend by your side. So when Mor asks you to go out, you try to go whenever you can afford to, desperate to grasp at chances to belong, despite yourself. Tonight, Mor practically dragged you out of your apartment for drinks and to briefly attend a ball in the Moonstone Palace. 

“I don’t understand why Emerie is allowed to pass,” you grumble morosely as you peer up the warmly-lit exterior of Rita’s. 

“Because Em hasn’t been hiding out in the library for the past week,” Mor counters blithely. 

“I was busy,” you retort in vain, knowing full well that all resistance is futile. 

“You’re always busy,” Mor retorts, throwing an arm around your neck. Your friend is clad in her usual skin-tight red dress, exuding self-confidence with each step she takes. You shoot her a look of sheer betrayal, and she laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. “It’s for your own good. You deserve to have fun too, you know?” Mor says with exaggerated gravity, which has you rolling your eyes. 

You sigh, and pad after her, knowing there is no use trying to argue now that she has already dragged you here. You practically trip over yourself on your borrowed heels, as you try to adjust the straps of the dress Mor had squeezed you into. It’s a resplendent satin dress with a terrifyingly low neckline and an even terrifyingly high slit up your left thigh. To her credit, however, the black dress fits you like a glove, a testament to Mor’s eye for fashion. With much effort, you banish the thoughts of all your responsibilities and deadlines to the void. Fine, you’ll try to have fun tonight, at least. 

You would've been happy enough with a simple dinner, maybe even some wine, but of course, Mor idea of fun rarely coincides with yours. The initial plan is to have just a few drinks at a nice, quiet bar - catch up a bit, and have a good laugh. But as the night progressed, Mor had piled you with more and more alcohol, and you became more amenable to going along with her unhinged plans. 

It starts with you moving to another bar, then another, until you finally find yourselves right in the middle of the overcrowded dance floor in the Moonstone Palace. To call this gathering a ball would be far too generous. Sometime in the night, the party had devolved to the very picture of debauchery. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, spilled liquor, and bad decisions. It’s a good thing you were drunk enough to not mind the overwhelming press of bodies against you. You could even admit that there’s some comfort to be had in being just another face lost in the crowd - free to enjoy the music, to simply be. The beat seems to reverberate throughout the whole room, through your bones, pulling you and everyone else into movement, like a collective heartbeat. Amidst the sea of nameless, gyrating bodies, that’s where you catch a glimpse of him - a slip of darkness, flickering in and out of view as the kaleidoscope of colors shifts overhead. 

Cassian.

Your attention doesn’t go unnoticed for long. His hazel eyes catch yours, and for a moment, the world stops existing. There is only you, and him and the weight of all the love, heartache and desolation between you. A blink, and reality returns to its normal unrelenting pace.

His muscled frame is evident even from a distance, the outline of his strong shoulders and defined arms visible beneath the blank long-sleeved shirt he wore. Intricate tattoos peek through the opened buttons of his shirt, their dark lines running from his neck, chest, down to his forearms. 

You knew Cassian back when you still lived in the Night Court, fancied yourself in love with his charming smile and penchant for mischief. More than anything, you admired him for his kindness. He had been the one to help you escape the camps, even helped set you up here in Velaris. As a half-Ilyrian female with no wings or any significant Ilyrian power, you don’t doubt that staying would have been a death sentence. Or worse. 

Afterward, the two of you had spent the better part of the last two centuries circling one another. You didn’t know the name of what you had with Cassian, but the two of you had preferred it that way, not wanting to risk your friendship. You never had the courage to ask for more, not even when you desperately wanted to. But when Nesta Archeron had dropped into his life with the cataclysmic force of silver wildfire, you took one look at them and knew you missed your chance. There’s no fighting against a mating bond. But that hasn’t stopped the memory of him from haunting you since. 

Except there he is, decades later, just across the room, watching you watch him. 

You heard from the grapevine that, seven years ago, after a failed explosive engagement and years of falling in and out of each other's beds, he and Nesta had finally called it quits. The eldest Archeron sister, Lady Death, had moved to the ruins of Dusk to seek her own destiny, to carve the story of her glory onto the earth. Cassian, on the other hand, had decided to remain here in the Night Court. 

A glint of recognition burns in his hazel eyes. For you, Cassian had always been the one that got away. Despite yourself, you find comfort in the thought that it might not have been easy for him to forget you, too.

You can feel your heart beat violently against your chest, threatening to break free from your ribcage. You can’t tell whether it's from anticipation, or a deep-rooted instinct that this? This is very dangerous territory, not unlike walking back into a battlefield you just managed to escape. Regardless of your better judgment, a smile makes its way to your lips, because, in the end, you’re happy to see him.

And Cassian smiles back. 

Throughout the night, you watch Cassian from the corner of your eye, and you feel his gaze on you in return. Sometime in the evening, you lose Mor in the crowd, covertly swept away by a gorgeous Ilyrian female in black. You, in turn, are left precariously perched on a stool, nursing a glass of water. You swallow your disappointment while contemplating the logistics of winnowing home whilst being utterly tipsy, and conclude that you’re more likely to be spliced across time and space than to reach your destination. 

Instead, you give yourself a few minutes to loiter by one of the palace’s expansive balconies, trying to get sober enough to depart. You’ve lost your shoal sometime during the party, but the crisp night air feels great against your heated skin, helping clear your mind. You recline against the chaise, before crossing your ankles and shutting your eyes. You stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying the muted music and the blessed solitude. 

Your peace doesn’t last long, however. You hear a familiar set of footsteps approach, followed by the telltale groan of the chaise beside you. 

“You’re back,” he sounds breathless, disbelieving as though he hasn’t quite figured out if he’s dreaming. You’d know the calming cadence of his voice anywhere, in the dreaming, even in death. 

“Cassian,” you sigh, just as breathless, just as dismantled by his presence. Finally, your eyes flutter open to peer up at him. You swallow the lump in your throat, and he watches the movement, transfixed. 

You drink in the sight of him like you’re lost in a desert, and he’s the only oasis to be found. His long, wavy locks of midnight-black hair cascade over his shoulders, half pulled back into a disheveled bun behind his head. Loose curls frame his rugged features. He looks sharper, hewn from the toughest steel, but there was a familiar warmth in those hazel eyes.

“I thought I saw you,” he smiles, and your mind nearly implodes at the sight of the dimple on his right cheek. Memories flash, and you remember languid afternoons spent pressing kisses over the same dimple, your nose buried in his neck, your hands tracing shapes over his chest. The moment his hand lands on your knee, however, you snap out of it.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” you notify him pointedly because you are done giving pieces of yourself to this man, no matter how charming he can be, not without anything tangible in return.

He raises his hands over his head, as if in surrender, all the while giving you a crooked grin, “Hey, my intentions are pure, Sunshine. I just wanted to catch up.”

And that statement would have been perfectly fine, you think, if he hadn’t just called you that. Sunshine. God, how you used to love every time he said it, how your heart soared every time he spoke those two syllables. It made you feel special, seen. Now, all it leaves is the scent of smoke in your lungs and the taste of devastation in your tongue

“Cassian, Please,” and you hope to The Mother you sound casual, light, sarcastic even; and not like you’re about to swallow your own damn tongue. “Your intentions are as perpetually black as Azriel’s shadows.”

“I resent that,” he huffs petulantly. “I’m perfectly capable of having a chaste conversation.”

“Right.” You laugh, a real one this time, and Cassian holds his chest in feigned offense. “I just got back, and the first thing you do is lie to me? For shame, Cassian, for shame,” you tease, and a lovely shade of pink invades his cheeks, much to his chagrin. 

As you settle further into the cushions, you ask, "What have you been up to? Those Illyrian Warlords still giving you trouble?"

Cassian leans back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I hardly involve myself in the military anymore," he admits, his tone tinged with an equal measure of relief and exhaustion. "I'm tired of the battlefields, the bloodshed. I’ve seen enough of it for several lifetimes. I want to build, not to destroy; to something new, something greater than myself."

And that’s when you see it - the weariness from the weight of all that violence, from the stains those lost lives have left on his hands. They may have called him the Lord of Bloodshed, and he may have been good at it even, Cassian - at his core - has always had a kind and tender heart. You don’t blame him for wanting to leave that life. 

You nod in understanding. “What are you going to do?” you ask, curiosity piqued.

A spark lights up in his eyes, and his smile returns, softer this time. “I’m not entirely sure yet,” he confesses. “But I want it to be something that helps people, that brings more good into the world. The Valkyries were a great start, but I want to build a place for people like us, my mother, the outcasts - a safe place for all the females, the children and the bastards brutalized by this world. I want to give them a chance for a kinder life.”

Your chest aches, and you reach out, taking his hand in yours. “That sounds wonderful, Cassian.”

He squeezes your hand gently, his eyes full of gratitude. “Thank you.”

He studies you for another long moment, hazel eyes taking you in like he’s seeing you for the first time, as if you held the answer to a question he’s spent a long, long time asking himself. His gaze softens.

As the evening stretches on, you and Cassian talk about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing effortlessly like the constant ebb and flow of the Sidra. Despite what happened in the past, this thing between you two feels natural, almost as if no time has passed. Sitting there with him, you realize how much you've missed this, missed him. Cassian had been your savior, your family, and your closest friend before everything went wrong, and perhaps, that’s the one thing you mourned the most: his presence in your life, regardless of who he was to you. Reconnecting with him now felt like being ripped apart and remade all in one breath. 

Then, he pulls out a pipe from his pocket, and promptly sticks it in between his teeth. You watch, half mesmerized by the way he lights it before taking a slow, steady drag. He breathes it in with practiced ease, before releasing a truly remarkable cloud of smoke. He must’ve noticed you staring because he looks at you and wordlessly offers you a puff. “Remember this?”

You eye him dubiously, “How could I forget.” It’s the same gem-encrusted pipe you had given him as a joke all those years ago, knowing how much he hated unnecessary finery. He had stared at it in horror when you first presented it to him years ago. That he kept it surprised you. 

Memories of the two of you locked in his room come into mind. Your lips on his, bodies entwined as a bowl of mirthroot burns at the bedside table. 

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t do mirthroot anymore?” He asks, his grin growing wider. “What is it? Forgotten to have fun?”

Refusing to give him the satisfaction, you retort instead, “I haven’t.” 

“Prove it then,” he challenges, as he taps off some of the ash that has accumulated in the mouth of the pipe. 

You shouldn’t, really. But it’s been a shitty night, and an even shittier month. Mor was right. You’ve been running yourself ragged. And, in truth, you just needed a night where you could forget the rest of your life, even if it’s only temporary 

“Well,” you say as you take the pipe from him, “If anyone needs a bit more mirth in their life, it would be me.”

Cassian chuckles, “And me.” The two of you mime clinking glasses as a show of commiseration, before bursting into raucous laughter. 

You toy with the pipe for a few seconds, turning it over your fingers. It may have seemed like reluctance, but in reality, you were trying to remember the last time you allowed yourself to relax. You realize that it has been a very long while. With one deep breath, the earthy smoke fills your lungs, and you let it linger before you breathe it out. Not without being hit by a coughing fit though, much to Cassian’s amusement. 

“Don’t,” you warn him. 

And of course, he doesn’t heed you, and instead says, “You’re adorable.” 

Before you can say anything else, he takes the pipe and squeezes himself beside you onto the scant space left on the chaise. You let him. It is as though the two of you can’t help but gravitate towards each other, twin stars pulled together by the same cosmic force; even after everything, even after years of silence, of insurmountable distance.

The chaise makes an impressive effort to hold the both of you, and it takes some truly impressive maneuvering for the two of you to fit. He’s turned towards you while you lay half-sprawled across his chest, your leg thrown over his thighs to lock around his calf. His wing curls over you, encasing you within his warmth. Your hand is over his chest, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart echoing your own. It's comforting to know that, even after all that has happened, the two of you still fit together like long-lost pieces of a single puzzle.

“Here, let me,” he takes another hit, easily inhaling and exhaling the silvery smoke as if that alone is enough instruction. He hands it to you once more.

You give him a withering look, but take it from him anyway. Once more you try your best to take the smoke in, but it elicits another coughing fit when you breathe it out. 

“Mother’s tits,” you mutter between coughs. Meanwhile, Cassian looks far too delighted at watching your miserable attempts to get high. 

“Do you want me to help?” he cryptically proposes with a hopeful look on his face, and you see the question for what it is. “You can say no anytime,” he assures you. 

In lieu of an answer, you inch closer, your face angled to fit with his, and you wonder if this is how a sunflower feels when it turns to face the sun. He only gives you one of his unfairly dashing smiles, before he takes another long drag. But this time, he keeps it in, as he cups your face and presses his thumb down your lower lip to coax your mouth open for him.

“Like this,” he whispers, his lips a mere centimeter away from yours. You’re practically vibrating with want, counting the infinities between seconds before you can taste his lips again. The smoke escapes his lips in languid swirls as you pull him down by the nape into a kiss. 

Cassian smiles against your lips.

The world is gradually shifting around you, like tectonic plates converging to recreate the world anew. The both of you shudder at the contact. This isn’t a cataclysm, not a world-ending explosion, but a realization, an answer to an overdrawn question. Cassian kisses you like he’s got all the time in the world to spare. It’s a languid back and forth of shared breaths and the seamless glide of his chapped lips on yours.

The feel of him is familiar and foreign all at once. The taste of rum lingers on his tongue as he licks into your mouth, swallowing the moan that comes out of you unbidden. You don’t know how long you stay in that hazy bliss, reacquainting yourselves with each other, just breathing the other in. 

But when he pulls away, he tugs on your bottom lip as if to make a final point. And what a totally valid point it is. You are convinced - so convinced, in fact, that you decide you aren’t going to smack him over the head for ruining you completely. The smug smirk on his face, by all means, would normally piss you off, but you find yourself smiling back instead.

“Was that better?” He inquires, batting his doe eyes at you innocently like he hadn’t just obliterated all rational thought in your head with his touch alone. 

“I can’t tell…” you trail off in feigned consideration. “I think you’ll have to do it again, just to be sure.” 

His nose scrunches in the most adorable way as he scoffs. Nonetheless, he humors you, lifting the pipe to his lips and inhaling another long drag.

“This is purely for science,” you inform him, running your thumb tenderly over his cheekbone. 

He nods in mock seriousness, before adding, “An experiment of sorts.” 

“Exactly,” you agree, as you tug on the curls on the back of his head to pull him down for another kiss. 

Cassian offers to fly you home, and you accept despite the both of you knowing that you’re perfectly capable and sober enough to winnow back on your own. Cassian scoops you up in the cradle of his strong arms, and you can’t help but let out a small gasp as the massive shadow of his wings unfurl. With a few beats, you’re in the air, soaring high above the mountainside. You barely have the presence of mind to erect the barrier for the two of you to keep the cold at bay. 

The flight to your apartment takes longer than it should because Cassian can’t keep his damn hands to himself long enough to take seven consecutive wingbeats. You indulge him, of course. With your arms around his neck, his lips find yours time and time again. Below, Velaris is a spread of starlight, like a reflection of the night sky overhead. You’ve got no viable defense for your actions, only that you missed him immensely, and deep in your soul, you know you still want him. You’re afraid that you always will. 

But as you arrive at your apartment, the both of you walk up to the door. Cassian tells you he’ll see you tomorrow and moves to leave you with one final peck on the lips, but you maintain your firm grip on his collar.

“You’re leaving?” You ask, your brows scrunched and your mouth agape. 

He chuckles at your confusion, his lips once again to that signature crooked grin you adore far too much.

“Oh? Did you want me to stay?” he asks, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear with a painfully gentle touch.

You huff out an exasperated breath, giving him a pointed look. “Cassian, if I didn't, you wouldn't even be here,” you retort, trying to mask the warmth his gesture ignited. 

“Why?” He presses further. “What did you have in mind, pretty girl?” 

That truth is this: you don’t think you could bear parting with him again, not when you just got him back. You don’t think that losing Cassian is something your heart can survive twice. 

His hand makes a slow descent from the back of your head, to your cheekbone, then to your jaw before gently tipping your face up to meet his gaze. A shiver runs down your spin at the intensity of his gaze. 

Cassian languidly leads you against the wall, pressing his body against yours. You can feel the evidence of his want against you, while he begins to leave butterfly kisses on your neck.

“Hmm?” He urges again, in between kisses. “C’mon, tell me.” Then, he tugs on your lobe lightly, before whispering against your ear, “Tell me all the lovely thoughts running through your pretty little head.” 

A shuddering breath leaves your lips in response, your body reflexively arching into him. He slots his muscled thigh in between your legs while keeping a firm grip on your hips. Cassian, it seems, is as intent on keeping you as you are him. 

“Cassian,” you plead, “stay.” Your chest feels like a supernova on the verge of extinction. Fear and longing grip you in a hurricane of emotion, threatening to swallow you whole.

For a while, Cassian just watches you, completely laid bare for him, his to keep or his to break. 

“Cassian,” you repeat, the desperation in your tone palpable. 

He raises his hands in mock surrender once more, reminiscent of earlier that night, before saying, “Say please.” 

“I hate you,” you retort, but your body tells a different story. Without your approval, you realize your hands have slipped under his shirt, reflexively exploring the familiar terrain of his skin, while your lips press against the sensitive skin of his neck. 

Cassian sighs, melting beneath your touch, his playfulness giving way to a look of pure adoration. With an expression that leaves no room for doubt, he whispers, “Liar.” 

“Guilty,” you confess. 

He matches it with a confession of his own, “I love you.” Cassian's gaze is unbearably soft, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. His voice is raw with sheer sincerity. "I've never forgotten you, never stopped thinking about you."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, and for a moment, the world pauses, forgets what it is to breathe. You search his face, seeing the truth reflected in forest eyes. A mixture of relief and joy washes over you, like a stream of cool water over scalded skin. Every moment you’ve shared, every glance, every touch, each joy and regret - has led to this moment.

You lean in closer, your forehead resting against his. "I love you too, Cassian,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I never stopped.”  At that moment, you’re certain that The Cauldron had made a mistake because every part of you is perfectly aligned with his, fitting together in a way that no one else ever could.

“Stay,” you implore him once more, your voice soft but earnest.

“Only if you promise to go on a date with me,” he says against your lips. 

You blink blearily up at him, your mind still lost in the moment. “A date?” you ask, almost in wonder. There was a time when the two of you spent everyday together, back when you were in the purgatory between best friends and something more. But in retrospect, you’ve never gone on an actual date. Despite everything you’ve done so far, the thought of going out with Cassian is what sends your heart racing.

“Okay,” you finally agree, your voice barely above a whisper.

Cassian’s smile is radiant, a bright light in this wretched world. And for the first time in a long while, you look forward to the future. 

Author’s Note: Hello! I’m new to this fandom & I’m so down bad I started writing fics again. I’d love to hear your thoughts 💙

+ This was literally supposed to be just Cassian + shotgunning but now there's plot so here we are.

#my fic #cassian #cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian fic #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #a court of mist and fury #angst with a happy ending #cassian fanfic #cassian fluff

[twilight-nephilim]

Do I wanna know ? || Blue Lock

Blue lock headcanons ! : Red flags + Arguments

Characters : Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser & Alexis Ness (Separately)

Description: Their red flags in a relationship and how your arguments would look like

Word Count: 957

Warning/s: Arguments, All of them are assholes here, Mild swearing, Degradation, Emotional manipulation, Slight Abuse, Toxic Relationships, Kaiser, Most of this might be OOC

Note: This was originally supposed to be crack hcs but I thought it would be fun to make it serious 😭I am not romantacizing any of these red flags and if these things are happening in your irl relatioship please seek help

Rin Itoshi

After his brother left he started to act coldly to everyone else- including you.

As he would dedicate his entire life to football, it meant sometimes ignoring your needs,

Whether intentionally or unintentionally he would brush you off, leaving you to deal with things alone

Rin would be insensitive towards your feelings- saying things that would hurt you unknowingly

“You know… You didn’t need to say that…” You looked down at the ground as Rin just stared at you coldly, as if you were nothing. “Say what? That you aren’t important enough for me to care about? I talk to you almost everyday, isn’t that enough?” He said, his voice laced with venom. It hurt you, to say the least. Was it the way he said it so indifferently? Or was it the way he looked at you as if you were a nobody, someone who he just saw as a stepping stone to his goal. “Rin ! Can’t you just understand that you can’t just say that to me and expect me not to feel hurt from it?! Why do you treat me as just a ‘someone’ to you!? I’m your fucking girlfriend for god’s sake— can’t you understand that I need you to at least talk to me and act like you love me?!…”

Sae Itoshi

Similar to rin, he would act cold to you, but unlike rin he does it intentionally

Sae could ghost you for days and respond with a simple “k”

He doesn’t really realize that what he’s doing is a bad thing, and he refuses to accept his faults

Doesn’t trust you AT ALL but he himself lies or keeps things from you intentionally

“Sae… We need to talk” You looked at your boyfriend as he was laying on your bed, he turns to look at you with a bothered look. “What is it this time Y/n…” Sae groaned as he got his phone to do something. “Sae- listen, I know it’s kind of selfish for me to ask but… can you try to make time for me… You never really talk to me that much anymore…” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for Sae to hear you. “Am I not good enough for you?” He asked rhetorically with an annoyed look on his face. “No- That’s not what I meant-“ You shrieked as Sae suddenly stood up and walked up to you and grabs your wrist. “Then stop being selfish. I’m here aren’t I? I took a trip away from Spain to see you, can’t you just be thankful that I’m spending my time with someone as worthless as you?”

Michael Kaiser

Michael is a really complex character to say the least,

He can manipulate you into doing things that would benefit him under the guise of “making him happy”

Forces you to be more dependent on him so you feel more obligated to do what he wants

Sae 2.0 but worse

Puts himself above you, seeing you as just a emotional support when he’s upset

Expects you to be there for him whenever he’s angry or distressed, but doesn’t do the same for you because he thinks he’s more important than you.

Has MAJOR attachment issues and even if things got extremely toxic you couldn’t leave. He either guilts you into staying or you just come back to him.

You walked up to Kaiser after one of his matches, “Michael… I don’t know if it’s the right time, but can we talk?” Kaiser looked at your serious face with his usual playful look. “What is it, mein liebling? I don’t have all day” He said with a playful yet degrading tone. “I… I wanna break up, this isn’t working out. I just feel exhausted—“ You were cut off as Kaiser grabbed your wrist, his nails digging into your skin. “If you think you can leave me just like that, then you're fucking stupid” He pushed you down on the ground as he moved his hand to grab your hair, “I'm the only who would ever love your pathetic ass; you're worthless without me, so don't even try to leave me. Understood?”

Alexis Ness

Ness gets jealous easily. Seeing how he acts around kaiser, it’s not too far fetched to think he would act the same around his partner.

He doesn’t let you go out alone because he’s afraid that you would leave him for someone else.

Overprotective in a bad way

He gets picky over what you wear because it will attract attention and someone might ‘steal’ you from him

Will get into fights with you over kaiser

Guilt tripper pt. 2

“No. You will not go out tonight.” Ness said as he stared at you from the hallway, “Why not? I'm just gonna go out with my friend, and it's a mall ‘Lexis, It's not like I'm gonna leave you…” You explained but he ignored you and walked to the door, effectively stopping you from leaving. “Y/n… Why can’t you just listen to me!? You’re always picking someone over me, do you even love me anymore!?” Ness started crying, in shock you instinctively hugged him, as an attempt to comfort. “No wait— That’s not what I meant ‘Lexis, of course I love you. Please… don’t cry over me… I won’t leave anymore, I’ll stay.” You said as you tried to comfort Ness, you failed to notice the smirk he held.

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi x reader #sae itoshi x reader #michael kaiser x reader #alexis ness x reader #tw.manipulation #tw.abuse #michael kaiser #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #alexis ness #bllk headcanons #blue lock hcs

[grimm-writings]

I really like how you write. Can I have some Tall-man Chilchuck crumbs?🙏

don’t see, don’t think

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, reader is having a crisis, reader’s race and race change is left ambiguous (but implied to NOT be a half foot)

…wc! 571

…notes! JUST IN TIME BEFORE THE EPISODE ITSELF GRAGGGGHH!!!! apologies for the wait anon!!! enjoy your crumbs

Don’t see it, don’t think it, don’t see it, don’t think it, don’t see it—

“Why are you staring at the wall?”

The deeper voice is so unfamiliar that it leaves you nearly leaping into the air like a cat.  You know it to be Chilchuck, and yet you can’t bring yourself to turn away from said wall you were fixating your eyes on.

“...Just coming to terms with this new form is all,” you awkwardly excuse yourself.  More like you’re trying to come to terms with Chilchuck’s new form.

You were close with the lockpick, more than you were with anyone else in the party.  Never in your life did you really come to think of Chilchuck as attractive.  Maybe it’s the difference in race?

Those damn changelings, if it weren’t for this new perspective on the man you would have been fine.  You wouldn’t find yourself thinking about how he has a stubble, slightly darker than his reddish-brown hair.  You wouldn’t notice the fact he’s definitely taller than Laios was as a tall man.  You wouldn’t be melting at how his voice altered, and you absolutely wouldn’t be trying your best not to be a complete mess around him.

Chilchuck doesn’t seem to notice, though.  At least with this sudden change, his senses dulled.  So seems to be the case with how observant he is.  “Figures,” he sighs, folding his arms.  “It’s definitely a lot to get used to.”

As his sentence draws close to a murmur, Chilchuck’s voice lowers a bit more in pitch.  You had to stop yourself from facing the wall and banging your head against it.

Good God, why did this have to happen to you?!

“Mhm!” You agree with a hum.  If you don’t open your mouth, there isn’t a way for you to say something you’ll regret.

That doesn’t stop Chilchuck from going, “hey,” and you find that he’s adjusting your bodies around in a way that you can be eye level, face to face with one another.

Don’t see it, don’t think it, don’t see it, don’t think it, don’t see it— 

His eyes are still that familiar colour, a dark brown with a slight shine to them.  The lines underneath them crease as he sends you a fond smile.

“Don’t let this freak you out too much, yeah?”  Chilchuck reassures you, but you’re hardly listening as you note now at the short distance he has a dimple on his chin.  How cute.  “We’ll find some way to get rid of the, uh, ailment, ok?”

He laughs a little at his own choice of words, and you try to do so too.  It comes out awkward and forced, but Chilchuck just gives your shoulder a squeeze to show that it’s alright.

He walks ahead, leaving you at your wit’s end.  This truly is the death of you.

Izutsumi doggedly (quite literally) reaches your side, if only to give you a judgemental sidelong glance.

“Didn’t think you’d have a thing for rugged guys you’d usually find in a back alley.”

You turn around and wrap your hands around Izutsumi’s snout, keeping her mouth shut as she flails in anger.  This definitely needed to be fixed soon, and quickly too, lest you lose your senses entirely.

Trying not to look at Chilchuck definitely isn’t doing you any favours anymore either; his face is etched into your mind permanently (and will be for days after.)

#✮ grimm's fics! #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon imagines #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon spoilers #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck imagines #chilchuck tims imagines

[honeyedgifts]

“When’s the last time you went outside?”

Sunday blinks, looking across the table. You do not sit beside him, but rather on the edge of the piano’s bench just a foot away. You’re not playing any pieces at the moment, shoulders relaxed and posture slumping compared to how it was when you played only a little while ago.

“Hm…” Sunday eyes you curiously, placing the cup he was sipping out of back on its saucer. “Well, I believe I was outside just an hour ago. I had to come inside the building from somewhere, and that’s outside.”

“Haha,” you say rather blandly, which he only smiles at. “As ridiculous as your response is, it’s still an answer, sadly enough.” You fold one leg over the other. “The last time you went outside, not to travel between buildings: way too long ago.”

“I suppose,” Sunday doesn’t argue. “Why does it matter?” He looks to his left, outside the large window. All there is to see is some landscaping, bushes cut up and maintained to keep shape, pretty flowers and perfect green grass.

“Maybe because you’re as pale as my grandma,” you say, no niceties to your tone, and Sunday just looks at you. There are no surprises here as you give him a deadpan look. “Being stuffed away doing Family business really gives you a jaded outlook to life. If you can’t remember the last time you’ve really been outside, just to enjoy it, just to be a living being, then what’s the point of even being one at all?” You huff loudly as you turn your attention to your piano. Your fingers hover over the keys, mimicking notes but not pressing down to create the music that is undoubtedly playing out in your head.

Sunday leans back in his chair. He hums at your words, closing his eyes as he thinks. After a moment, he says, “you sound like my sister.”

You laugh. He smiles.

“Is that why you come here to work when you’re stressed out?”

“Who said I was stressed?”

“Mm. Don’t need to say it.” Like you know everything, which you don’t, you start to very casually play a tune. Quietly, but it is still noise, beautifully crafted, and that directs attention. But no one interrupts, and the conversation is still private, despite the open setting. “You like to look so complicated, but you’re really simple, Sunday.”

“Hmm. Really?” Sunday takes another drink of his tea. You snort.

“Yeah. But that’s not a bad thing. You think I’m simple too, right? Ignorantly so.” You cast him a knowing look with a tip of your head as your fingers continue to play across the keys of the piano. “Maybe I am ignorantly simple. But you like me anyway.”

With that, you commit to your song like second nature, your leg subtly moving up and down as your foot presses on the pedals of the piano to reverberate the sound across the whole cafe. Heads turn to watch the perfect posture of your back as you sway with the tune. Sunday looks back to the paperwork he brought with him, scattered on his table beside the cup of tea.

You’re a smug creature. Ignorant, just as you had said. You definitely share similarities with Robin, like your shared musical experience and optimistic attitude toward life- but Robin would never be so… crass. Sunday has been around long enough to hear you cuss under your breath when your leg cramps, when you miss a note that no one else hears besides you (and him). He’s seen you eat food off abandoned plates that haven’t been bussed yet (disgusting, but it is… excusable only in the dreamscape, he supposes, since you cannot get sick or catch disease here. And look at him now, so used to you, he’s making excuses and reasoning for your gross habits). You’ve talked long enough now that you’ve shared details about your history, and none of it is particularly impressive.

You don’t know anything. You’re nowhere near Sunday’s social status and importance- but even so, you’re cheeky. ‘You’re as pale as my grandma’- really?

Privately, something no one would ever see, Sunday rolls his eyes, and tilts his head toward your music. Yes, despite it all, he likes you anyway.

#this is written ridiculously and kind of horribly but WHO CARES? not me #sunday hsr #Sunday x reader #hsr sunday #hsr Sunday x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr

[leydenkilgore]

about scripting… as someone that has shifted 66 times

Part 1: Half is my opinion about script and the other half is a story time from one of my drs. And yes I’ve shifted four more times since that last post.

Scripting is when you have written description of what you want to experience once you’ve shifted. Some people don’t use scripts at all, and some people nearly write another book of the Bible. Both are valid. If you know what you want subconsciously then just deciding where you want to go is enough. The physical reality is just a reflection of your belief systems and desires. So if you don’t want anything bad to happen it won’t happen. However, if you worry obsessively over something awful happening it might manifest in some way. But I wouldn’t worry too much about that as people have intrusive thoughts in this reality all the time and nothing happens. I really wanted to talk about how scripting your desired reality manifests physically. Because when I was first started shifting I didn’t know how real it would be.

I spent about six months in my waiting room a few months ago scripting nearly every place I had been and every day. I’m literally not joking I scripted every day of my life. Now I like scripting, I like writing things and I like shifting. So I had a ton of fun scripting every day, surfing and exploring nature but I wouldn’t do this again. I wouldn’t do this because it begins to foster a relationship with scripting itself rather than shifting. I got way too caught up in making every little thing perfect that I forgot to shift. But the end result when I shifted was everything was exactly as I scripted and better honestly. I remember I had scripted a white church on the sea of the Crimea. I wasn’t too detailed and only included a picture of what I generated in my waiting room. And when I saw it in person it was exactly as I wanted it to be subconsciously even though I had scripted something good enough. While you can script anything, things that you didn’t account for will happen. As long as you assume nothing that happens will be inherently traumatizing to you or anyone else, you’re fine. Of course there will be moments other than what you scripted because it’s an independently operative reality. But everything will happen exactly as you want it to. And not having a finished script is a terrible excuse to delay shifting. Literally trust that everything will be acceptable to you and as you desire. If you’re really obsessively limiting yourself from shifting because you feel a need to script everything then maybe you should evaluate whether you even want to shift or just like world building. Once you trust your subconscious to shift you to exactly where you want you’ll feel a lot better about shifting. I think all the hardship that comes with shifting is more from people being too attached to it. That’s why a lot of people had more luck shifting early in their journey when they had less cards in the game. But as people continually fail they start to latch onto it more by spending time scripting or consistently reading information. If you can just take a deep breath say you already shifted and nothings special about shifting because you do it regularly. You’ll likely reset your journey in a kind of way.

Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t script at all. I love scripting and still do script in my waiting room. I don’t script in this reality because I like all the tools I have to script in my waiting room. And all of my scripts are finished so I haven’t had to script in a while. And before I shift I just assume that it will be like living inside vintage photos of movie stars off duty or in a Sofia Coppola film. That usually does the trick for everything. Yes you can script people’s words, what they do, what they remember etc. etc. If you can think it you can script it is a general rule. And that applies to everything. You don’t even have to script a physical reality. Once I shifted to just be consciousness for a couple months. All I did was script that I’d never get bored, I’d intuitively know how much time would pass and that I’d entertain myself with my mind. I really liked that experience because it helped me figure out what I wanted out of everything without the distraction of a physical self.

Part 2: This is just a story time from my Medieval Old Russian Royalty Dr that is roughly around 1105 to maybe 1185 to show what I mean by other things happen. It diverges heavily from this modern timeline and is its own interpretation with non period accurate things because i hate shifting to accurate history. So don’t read this if you don’t feel like it.

So I got married at around maybe 20, I think. And I was lucky enough to go far from home just to the nearby Grand Duchy of Kiev. Nearby is a 12 day journey by carriage. After a couple years, I had two sons and lived in the fortress of Kiev with my husband, a small court and my mother in law. (An awful woman). I hate that woman with all my spirit. She’s a miserable hag in every reality. But I was like whatever it’s fine, I’ll deal with it. After my second son, I decided I didn’t want to make a public appearance for quite a while. I was sitting on a window seat in one of the vestibules looking out the window and not doing much. And she passed with her lady in waiting (it’s a different word there) but that’s basically what she is. And she whispered to her that the ‘Princess must exit before the people assume she’s become a locked hog.) Again it’s a different term but hard to romanize because the language is very old. It’s like a mix of Ruthenian and Old Russian but with the importation of a few Chinese characters for some reason. But what makes this so offensive is the context.

So at the time I had two children close together and did not leave the Fortress often except for visits to the orphanages. The surrounding areas of Kiev were known for a very specific type of Hog which they called the Dnipr Hog. I remember seeing them at a farm once on my journey to Kiev. And they stink, make incessant noise and are just rotten little creatures. But they taste really good when they were slathered with honey, and this specific seasoning used in the region. I think it was a ground up grain which is kind of spicy mixed with turmeric. And it would be common to have beets that were caramelized (I scripted in a lot of modern cooking methods), potatoes with rosemary and thyme covered with sweetened butter and really hard salty flat cakes. Anyways I got off track. So calling me a locked hog was a very dirty joke.

I remember I looked at her as she walked away and I couldn’t think of good retort so I let it go. The following days I literally just walked or sat along the wall facing the villages where the people could see me doing my needlework or washing potatoes for soup. I went so far with it I would conduct meetings on top of the wall and no one said anything about it. But they were all kind of stressed out from the tension between me and my mother in law. The wall I had repainted when we moved there because the Fortress in Kiev was a very ugly and decrepit grey stone building with weeds growing everywhere, spiders and an abundance of water crickets coming from the river. I think a lot of the court there hated me because I refused to go inside as it made me sick and I insisted I sleep at the nearby convent instead. Nonetheless me refusing to leave the convent to even see my husband made the whole renovation go by quickly. Quickly in medieval times was like 13 months or a little less.

But afterwards it was such a pretty place that was shiny and white. It’s really was prettier than the Kremlin was where I grew up. But they couldn’t for the life of them get rid of the damp smell that came with heavy rain years. But the stone wall itself is positioned in such a way that you get a good look at the valley and the river. I hated wearing shoes in the summer as they were very stuffy and instead wore a pair of moccasins that my mother made me. They were kind of canvas with a lot of small rocks that she managed to string along into a square shape then attach. The official use of the wall was to defend against intruders with bows and arrows. But I used it more like an open balcony because all the balconies facing the courtyard got no breeze from the river. So I had an assortment of rugs gifted from Constantinople and some of the Caucasus nations my father visited run along the sides so I could walk comfortably. Then I had cushions brought out when I sat on the wall. After walking every day along the wall for maybe two months, she asked me if I had been satisfied with my exhibition. And I didn’t even bother to look at her and just said the equivalent of Quite. A couple years later, she elected to go a convent far away from Kiev. I was very happy. Convents in that reality are so great. I love them. The food is great, they’re all well decorated with big windows, plenty of projects and activities to do and most of the women there are either widowed women or women that just didn’t want to marry. I love it there so much. And I scripted that all convents are like this. More happened but that’s pretty much all that happened with that story. But I could talk about this reality all day. I mean the food, the surroundings, the outfits and entertainment are just the best!

Happy shifting and go shift even if you’re script isn’t done!

#shiftblr #shifting #shifting community #shifting antis dni #sucess story #shifting realities #reality shifting #shifters #shifting stories #shifting script #shifting blog #shifting motivation #shifting diary #shifting tips #shifting consciousness

[the-woman-upstairs]

It’s just…so painful to watch Armand readily submit in order to obtain the love he so desperately craves. And while it’s most assuredly a manipulative tactic, it’s still one borne out of fear and desperation. He cannot lose this person he’s come to love and so will become whatever they want, do whatever they want just so they’ll stay with him. But it won’t be enough. No matter how much he acquiesces or seeks to control (himself, others, the environment), he won’t be able to make Louis stay with him in the perfect life, perfect self he built in the hopes of finally being loved. It will all crumble with Armand left alone in the rubble of what he created, the author of his own abandonment.

#this unfortunately hits way too close to home for me #let’s not even get into Claudia’s anger at never being enough #iwtv spoilers #interview with the vampire #armand #this is just me speaking from personal experience…but there is definite manipulation at play here from Armand #and I don’t necessarily mean that pejoratively- when you’re desperate for people to like/love you you’ll become whatever they want #or whatever you think they’d want and you give it to them so they’ll want to keep you around #I’ve done it so often with the people in my life- and make no mistake it’s also a survival tactic #you give someone what they want they won’t hurt you #and when that’s how you survive for years and years it becomes the default method of interacting with others #even with normal people who genuinely mean you no harm you revert to that people pleasing mode #as a means of control both external and internal #this is what i see armand doing- his way of surviving that he’s never truly broken out of #armand ceding coven control to Louis and curating the Dubai penthouse for Louis are part of the same pattern of behavior #and even tho it’s ultimately harmful and will only end badly for armand and Louis’ relationship #idk if armand knows how to not exist that way with someone he loves/desires #all of this also ties into louis and daniel #because of course Armand will lose it over Louis finding connection and interest with someone else aside from him #someone HUMAN no less #and I can see Armand taking out his anger on Daniel as a way of expressing his own frustration at still not being enough for Louis #breaking daniel’s mind in a desperate attempt to understand why this human could reach Louis in ways he couldn’t #not saying any of this to excuse Armand and his behavior obviously (I’m very upset and worried over the trial looming on the horizon) #but I do understand this impulse and how you’ll throw ANYONE under the bus in order to preserve your place with loved ones #it’s all horrifying but unfortunately I empathize #like even if Louis is right to walk out on him when he learns/remembers the truth of what happened to Claudia #I’ll probably still find myself saddened by Armand’s fate because I’ve absolutely been there myself #it’s a tragedy of his own making- his fear and desperation birthing manipulative and controlling behaviors #that ultimately result in your own abandonment #god this fucking show

[babyitsgayoutside]

I know Horikoshi won’t do it. Realistically I think we all know we are either getting Izuku x Uraraka or and open ending with no romance…but…

WHAT IF. Can we actually think about that for a second.

What if he did make BakuDeku cannon in the end? It would be a historical event that would change the Shounen anime world forever.

Making them canon would be the most mad ass anti-queerbaiting move. It would mean so much to so many fans and even people who don’t watch mha or anime, people in Japan who are queer, seeing a massive franchise like MHA normalize a same sex relationship!???? It would be massive for the gay rights movement in Japan.

Not to mention, Izuku and Bakugo have taken the hearts of so many people. The Japanese audience loves them, separately. They have got to see them grow for years in the manga. A lot of Japanese people when you ask will say they “have never met a gay person” that “they would know right off the bat if someone was” because stereotypes are HUGE in Japan especially towards gay men, SO, having a lot of people get to know our boys and love them and then seeing them be queer, it could help break some of those stereotypes. Show people not only can they like a person who is gay, but, that a manly, strong, heroic person can also be gay, and it didn’t take away from their greatness.

Imagine this site as well. Imagine TikTok. The online fandom spaces would be insane. We would probably crash Twitter again. It would be worldwide anime news. I think it would be overwhelming, but it would be amazing!

But on the flip side,

Things for Horikoshi in terms of work, signing contracts and other things could get compromised. I older generation are still in power. They discriminate. Horikoshi could live off his royalties from MHA for life, but I doubt he wants to. He is a creative, he can tell one hell of a story and I’m sure he already has dozens more he wants to tell (if not already in the works) BUT if he made the choice to make bkdk cannon in the end, he could be shunned. Hiring him could be a risk. A risk most companies won’t take. This this won’t happen? Mappa is the perfect example of how anti-gay corporations are in Japan.

The second they gained traction, all their queer and queer-adjacent shows were put on the back burner. Never to get a second season or be randomly dropped in the middle of May seven years later. They didn’t want to be the Gay studio and they made sure they weren’t.

Besides from the author and his personal life and his work life, the reputation that MHA would get if they made Bkdk cannon, in some sense could taint, what was one of the greatest Shounen anime of our generation.

People wouldn’t talk about MHA for what it was. They would talk about it’s the show that made the gay cannon in the end, and that is all it would be. It would have the legend of Kora treatment. People who haven’t watched legend of Kora just know that in the last episode, they made the gay ship canon, and nothing else. MHA would be the same, and it’s too good for it to be belittled down into it last chapter or episode.

In the next few weeks when the MHA manga ends, I’m not gonna be holding my breath that we get anything more than what we got in the last which was crumbs honestly. Bakugo crying…we can read into it as much as we want. But, the kid just fought a war. He died like twice. His friend is in an almost unrecognizable state. Of course he’s gonna cry. He’s not being gay. He’s just being emotional and justified.

Even knowing all that there is still going to be a small part of me, the part of me that has followed not only MHA, but Horikoshi and his assistance all these years, that is holding out hope.

#mha leaks #mha spoilers #mha bkdk #bkdk #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #thoughts