#I am literally losing my mind because one my contact ends in a week and a half

[bingo6776]

may i pleaaase have a “i hate everyone but her” wednesday, where she literally cannot breathe without Fem!R by her side, and she would do anything, anything, to make R happy, even if it meant sacrificing her infamous reputation as a cold-hearted, blue-blooded sadist by wearing a sparkly pink sweater R knit for her around the school, just to see R laugh and tease her about it. but if anyone else were to even dare mention it or make fun of R for making her go through this, she would gladly slit their throat as slow and as torturously as possible in front of everyone. basically really whipped wednesday and shy and soft reader. thank you in advance<333🫡

Wednesday almost killing someone in a pink sweater? YES!!!!

i hope this is what you were hoping for <333

3k

Without moving your eyes from the clock you watched as the hands ticked way too slowly towards the end of your Werewolf Anatomy lessons – you hope it was Werewolf Anatomy, you hadn’t really been paying attention to anything the teacher was droning on about. Wednesday would definitely need to help you study for the class later.

When the bell finally rang, you practically swept your arm across the desk to force your books and pens into your bag as quickly as you could. did you lose a few pens as they clattered to the floor? Yes. Did you care? Not at all.

It was finally the lunch period, which meant that your “I will stomp on your heart” girlfriend would be waiting outside for you, a bag of “I will put my needs first” pastries she had picked up from the Weathervane during her free period, specifically for you, in her hand.

‘Stomp on my heart my ass’  you thought as you tried to push your way into the crowded hallway.

As you’re finally able to fight – literally, you took a few elbows to the ribs – your way out of the crowd of people huddled by your classroom door for no particular reason, your eyes immediately fall onto Wednesday, who, unsurprisingly, is glaring at anyone who stepped too close to her in the middle of the busy hallway.

 Again, unsurprisingly, despite the throng of bodies that left very little space to move, there was a bubble around the gothic girl where no one dared to step out of fear of being maimed for life.

Except you, of course.

When her eyes finally found your own, the itching in her right hand to let her dagger fall into her grasp was overwhelmed by the urge to simply hold onto your hand, to let the warmth of your skin seep into the coldness of her own. She thought it was sickening that her hand sought out your own the second you were within reach, she absolutely adored the way her stomach twisted painfully in her stomach at the soft smile that you graced her with the second she did.

“And how are you doing today?” you strike up the conversation as you both walk towards the large tree in the quad that provides another shade against the shining sun for you to lounge comfortably under. “Any dead bodies? Mysterious stalkers?”

“Sadly, no. It seems that whoever decided to begin the game of cat and mouse took the week off,” she leans back against the tree, allowing your head to fall onto her shoulder as she hands you the brown bag.

“Yeah, well, uh… fingers crossed for another murder soon, then?” 

She only smirks in response, her form of gracing you with a full-blown smile in public, because God forbid anyone sees the absolutely adorable dimple that she had when she really smiled.

Your mind swam with thoughts of the girl, ‘fuck, I am such a gay ass mess for her’, being one of the most dominant thoughts. 

Once some time had passed and you knew lunch was coming to an end, you lifted your head from her shoulder and started fiddling with your hands as you dodged her curious gaze at the sudden lack of contact between you.

“So, Enid’s gonna be at Yoko’s tonight, right? With Divina?” you wait for the confirmation nod, despite already having asked the blonde werewolf earlier. “I was wondering if you were busy later tonight? If you are it’s totally fine, obviously, I was just curious.”

You awkwardly clear your throat, trying to prevent the absolute word vomit you knew was impending from leaving your mouth.

“Cara mia, I am free for you whenever you ask me to be. I was already thinking of asking if you would like to come to my dorm later, I miss being able to have you to myself without these idiotic buffoons crowding us,” the howling from one of the furs that sounded more like a cat screeching than a powerful beast accentuating her point.

“Okay, okay cool cool cool. I’ve got a class, so I’ll see you later?” you place a rushed kiss on her cheek as you practically trip over your own feet in your haste to separate yourself from Wednesday before you could embarrassingly ramble your way into revealing your plans for later.

‘Keep it together, damn.’

----

Exhaling softly, you adjust the black parcel in your hand and softly knock at the door.

Does she even like gifts? Yes, she showers you in them consistently, the Addams’ wealth allowing her to do so without a second thought – although you were well aware of how much she appreciated her upbringing, despite seeming as if she does not. But did she like getting them?

‘God, I fucking hope so’

 Before you could fall even further into the pit of self-doubt, the door swung open. 

If you thought you’d ever get used to seeing Wednesday in her oversized hoodie that reached her knees, paired with the softest pair of sweatpants you’ve ever seen, the ones she only wears around you, you were far from wrong. You would never get over how absolutely beautiful the girl looked, forever being shocked that she was yours. 

Trying to remember that you needed to breathe and that whilst it may be poetic to die because your girlfriend literally took your breath away, it was also humiliating. All she had to do was look at you and you felt like you were drowning.

Clearing your throat, you try to shake the thoughts of gayness from your mind. 

‘Time and a place, y/n, time and a place.’

“Hey, Wends,” you step into the room, her hand immediately holding onto your own as she pulls you towards her bed. 

“Y/N,” she murmurs before gently placing her lips on your own, it wasn’t sexual or overwhelming, it was just so goddamn soft and loving.

A dreamy sigh left your lips as she pulled away, pushing you to sit with your back against the headboard, already leaning down to place her head in your lap as she reaches for a book so ancient you were surprised it hadn’t already crumbled to dust. 

Her lack of words didn’t add to your mounting anxiety, you knew Wednesday like the back of your hand – apart from gift giving apparently – and knew that her actions always spoke louder than her words. Her immediate comfort in your presence and allowing herself to be vulnerable around you meaning more than anyone else would have been able to guess.

Yet, despite the bundle of adorableness Wednesday was being right now, you had a plan.

Gently gripping her hand that was stretched towards the book, “Wends, actually, I- okay. Phew. I have something for you, it's nothing big or like, lavish, I guess. I made it myself. And I know it’s not your style, but I made it way before we started dating for you,” you shake your head at yourself gripping the wrapped gift harder than you probably should. “But I thought since I made it for you, you should have it, right? Like a belated birthday gift. You don’t have  to like i-“

“Y/N, as much as I love when you ramble, I think you are getting slightly off point,” her slightly calloused hand coming to rest upon your cheek.

Without uttering another word you all but thrust the gift in her direction, eyes glued to her face as she gently unwraps the black ribbon that held it all together. 

As her eyes landed on what was covered by the dark paper, the usually comfortable silence becomes deafening as it slowly drags on, each second passing feeling as if there were nails clawing away at your skin.

Silence.

Silence.

More fucking silence.

Her hand pulled the brightly coloured fabric upwards, letting the knitted sweater hover between the two of you, the contrast between her dark clothing currently and the sparkly pink sweater she held in her hand making you realise what a stupid, illogical gift idea this had been. 

“Oh, God. Yeah. No. Bad idea, understood. No hard feelings, yeah?” you feel the all-too-familiar heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “I was just bored; it was a stupid thing to make. Hey, if anything we can give it to Enid, right? Uh, okay, I’ll just-“

You reached out to remove the object from her grasp, ready to fling it and yourself over the balcony. Before you could even let a fingertip run over the fabric, her hand grabbed onto your wrist, forcing your hand away from the bundle of pink fabric.

As she released your wrist, she finally opened her mouth. “You’re right in saying it is not my usual style or colour scheme, but I don’t hate it. It was made from your hands, and I will treasure it more than you will know.”

“You sure? You don’t have to say you like it if you don’t,” you pull your eyes from hers and instead focus on pulling at a piece of loose thread in your own knitted sweater.

“Y/N, I swear to you that I do not hate it. From this point on, it will be one of my most prized possessions,” she smirks lightly as she adds “even above Thing.”

A series of furious tapping from Thing comes from the inside of Wednesday’s desk at being referred to as a possession, leading you to raise a brow at the amused look that crosses her face at her trapped companion

“Ignore him. He is being punished for attempting to help Enid paint my nails a disgustingly bright array of colours whilst I was asleep”

“Oh, and I get away free after giving you the sweater, do I? Is The Wednesday Addams finally coming around on the colour pink?!” you tap her nose lightly. “My adorable little raven. Not so intimidating now, are we?”

“I love you, mon cher, but if you insist on teasing me then you can join Enid on her next trip to the lupin cages on the full moon.”

You scoff at the obviously empty threat before delicately pulling the macabre girl to lay her head in your lap, a pleased hum coming from the girl.

Wednesday, intimidating? Ha. Funny.

---

Never once had you expected Wednesday to actually wear the sweater. Well, maybe every now and then in the dorm when Enid was out, and you came over for the night. But in public? Never.

Whilst Wednesday may not care too much about her reputation, you knew that she absolutely adored the terror that she instilled in people with a simple look, the way people cowered when they crossed her path without even having to utter a word or raise a finger. It truly was delightful in the psychic’s eyes. To be feared so easily.

With that being said, the way that your heart almost screeched to a halt when Wednesday stepped out of one of Nevermore's large school vehicles on another of the seemingly never-ending trips into Jericho in attempts to stop the unwarranted prejudice the normies had against the outcast community. 

Her usual dark attire had been replaced with the slightly too big sweater you had gifted her, the vivid pink making her stand out more than she usually would. Still, that didn’t tamper the murderous glint she had in her eyes, nor did it prevent people from parting like the red sea when she began her walk towards you.

She took her place next to you, her face passive as if she wasn’t doing anything so completely out of the ordinary that outcasts and normies alike kept glancing in their direction.

Laughing, you pointedly looked at your girlfriend’s choice of clothing until you met her gaze. “Wends, I love the look, but you really don’t have to wear it just so I don’t feel bad.”

Knocking her shoulder with yours slightly, she shook her head. “I want to it. Apart from the joy I pull from seeing the looks of horror and confusion washing over people’s faces, I want people to know that I am yours and you are mine,” pulling her eyes away from yours, she surveyed the bustle of people surrounding you. “Besides, it is surprisingly comfortable… and it smells like you. So, no more commenting on the sweater, I want to get a quad before all of these imbeciles flood the Weathervane.”

“Whatever you say, my darling rainbow,” placing a kiss on her cheek. 

Tugging you along in a way that Wednesday found herself doing more often than not, she felt content. she had you by her side, looks of fear from strangers she did not even bother to acknowledge reminding her of her home, and the memory of Enid’s panicked face at actually thinking Wednesday’s skin was about to melt from her body at the pink sweater that she threw on. 

All was perfect in her eyes.

Until the overly brave Yoko Tanaka thought the pink garment was a sign from Satan himself that teasing Wednesday would be a good idea. The vampire may have been decades old but that by no means meant she understood or had any self-control. It was something she and Enid were trying to work on together. 

“Woah, Addams,” she called from behind the couple, “who the fuck had to wrestle you into that thing?  It looks like a unicorn threw up all over your ass,” she lowered her tinted glasses slightly as she glanced between the two of you. “Damn, Y/N, you really have her on a leash, huh?”

At the comment, you felt embarrassment creep up your neck at Yoko’s taunts and the snickers it pulled from the few outcasts brave enough to make a sound around Wednesday. Realistically, you knew Yoko’s words were more so intended to annoy Wednesday than anything, but that didn’t make the situation any less awkward for you as you stood glancing between the cocky vampire and your seething girlfriend – if you weren’t scared she was going to murder Yoko, you would’ve been laughing at how adorable she looked, being all rageful wrapped in bright pink.

Yet, before you could even think of pulling Wednesday away, she pulled her hand from yours with a speed that you weren’t even sure a human – human? Was she human? You didn’t even pretend to know what the Addams’ were at this point – and had Yoko pinned against the brick wall of the Weathervane, the taller girl's head smacking against the brick in a way that made numerous people watching the ordeal wince.

And, of course, because Wednesday is Wednesday she held up a freshly sharpened blade against the vampire's throat.

“I know that you vampires like to act as if you are above everyone else, and whilst I do regret leaving my stake at Nevermore, I also know that you bleed and that you feel pain just like any other being on the planet, immortal or otherwise,” Wednesday presses her dagger against the girls throat harder. “With that in mind, Tanaka, I suggest you take whatever asinine comments you had hoped to make and leave before I lose my restraint and decide to see just how deeply I will have to carve my blade into your skin before your healing abilities fail you. Is that understood?”

Yoko could only give a rushed nod of her head, worried that if she tried to speak the blade would cut her skin. 

“Good. Before you run away, you should know that unlike you and your ‘creatures of the night,’ I do not need dark clothing or those ridiculous glasses to be feared by others, so I shall wear whatever choice of clothing I desire. And considering this was made by Y/N, you should apologise, because as you know, if you so much as look at her in a less than enthusiastic way, I will carve your heart from your chest.”

After a second or two of intense eye contact, Wednesday releases Yoko and returns to your side with her hand back in yours as if nothing happened.

Walking backwards Yoko nodded so fast a human may have gotten whiplash, “Yeah, no, totally. Really cute sweater. Really, really cute. Good job Y/N, it’s very good. The knitting is… is cute. Great, even! Amazing. Just so- so perfect.” 

Wednesday felt a smirk pulling at her lips as she saw the vampire stumble over her own feet to put as much distance between herself and the Addams, calling for Enid once she was sure she wouldn’t be chased, or more accurately, hunted down.

Turning your attention to the girl beside you, your eyes darted around her body looking for any signs of injury. “You okay, Willa?” 

At seeing no visible injuries, you placed your hand against the cool skin of her neck and stared into her dark eyes.

“Are you asking if I am okay after having Yoko pinned against the wall, with my blade at her throat?” Wednesday raised an incredulous brow at you. “She should be glad she walked away with her skin intact.”

“Wednesday!” She is literally a vampire. You know, vampire? Immortal? Bloodthirsty? Gobble gobble on human flesh?”

Scoffing at your words, she began walking towards the Weathervane again – she would still refuse to admit she had a slight (major) addiction to caffeine. “Please. I am an Addams; she should have known better than to insult a gift from my beloved and expect to walk away without any consequences.”

Deciding that there was no point in trying to unravel whatever the hell being an ‘Addams’ meant exactly, you only smirked as she dragged you along. “Well, thank you for defending my honour, my oh-so-charming knight in shining pink armour.”

“Y/N, you do remember that I have a dagger on me, correct? Multiple, in fact.”

“Wends, we’ve spoken about the daggers. You do not need that many, you hardly even need one!” 

“As much as I adore you, my love, the daggers are here to stay.”

You roll your eyes, brushing past Wednesday as she holds the door open for you, Wednesday smirking at your reaction.

If Enid noticed how Wednesday had cleared one of the drawers in her closet to fill with the array of clothing you made for her, she didn’t mention it. Mostly because Yoko had filled her in with extreme detail about how sharp Wednesday’s blade was. 

Nope, she refused to wake up with the gothic girl holding a knife above her head, it had happened one too many times already.

#wednesday addams netflix #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #x reader #jenna ortega fluff #jenna ortega #wednesday addams

[weebsinstash]

Not to be chugging Valentino juice again (😏) but I was thinking of like, sometimes when you're working long hours and sleeping weird, sometimes you can enter a 'zone' where you're basically running on autopilot and youre not tired or even hungry anymore? Sometimes I've been awake over 24 hours depending on... environmental factors

So imagine at one point Reader is like "well, I can already basically smoke weed and fast and somehow stay up for 2 days straight, and if you overdose down here you kind of just spring back up, so what if I just start taking uppers to stay awake so I can work as long as I can so I can move out of this shitty rented room at Val's studio as fast as possible"

It starts off small. You're young and only give yourself maybe 4 hours of sleep before your evening shift and just sleep again when you get off. Maybe you take a two hour nap, wake up, go to work, take another 2 hour nap, go to the secret second job you're not supposed to have. Eventually you're going entire days without sleeping with maybe 2 solid meals a day. Most of the time people see you drinking protein/meal replacement drinks

You're on the clock and removing drinks from your tray for the Overlord and his girls as they all sit around and mingle. your hands are visibly shaking and he grabs you to make you face him and all but laughs in your face. You think someone like him wouldn't know a pill popper when he sees one, with your fucking jitters and pin-prick pupils and the jerky way you won't keep eye contact with him? He'd mock you and act like you're pathetic before getting more mad because you're doing this shit on the clock and this isn't what he's paying you for (like gee when are you going to realize he tips you more when you stroke his ego and suck up to him, maybe he doesn't even care about your other tables)

"Well I barely make any money, how else am I supposed to move out if I don't work more hours?"

Pause. When did you decide you were moving away? He doesn't remember having this conversation with you, giving you permission. What, were you just going to suddenly quit your job without warning too? Yeah you were actually, and tell him pretty nonchalantly, "well, I figured you wouldn't even care. I mean, you count my tips after my shifts. Literally the only one bothering to give me much of anything is... you. Just hire someone else? You're probably actually losing money by having me work here anyw--"

"Oh, so you make decisions for me now, is that it?"

And you don't expect him to be so angry, but he is. In your mind, you had been debating if it was worse to tell him ahead of time, like a two weeks notice or to just disappear, but now you're realizing you were doomed either way. In his eyes he was being nice by giving you a job and a place to live, even if it's a low paying job and your room has hellish rent for what it actually was. And now you're just going to, DISRESPECT HIM like this? Without any warning, without talking to him, without any apology?

He's just growling "You UNGRATEFUL little bitch--" before he's snapping his fingers to have some of his goons pop out of nowhere and grab you. "Take em to my office. I'll deal with this one after all the shows" and you're just locked in his office with nothing but your thoughts to panic and cry and wonder what he wants. And then. He just. Has you fetched and put in the limo like usually you do at the end of every night anyways, at least the nights when your boss was there and drove everyone back to the studio. And you're thinking, what makes this different than every other night? Where is the punishment or whatever? And the time comes where everyone is getting out of the limo at the studio and he just points, "not you. You stay"

All but ready to piss yourself as the driver starts the car again and it's just the two of you and besides him seemingly suspicious preoccupied with texting on his phone, he's glaring at you constantly, obviously upset, but not saying shit. And eventually it becomes increasingly obvious that he's just. Taking you home. You get pulled out of the limo and it's just his straight up fucking house. And this is the point where your, you know, human trafficking boss who regularly dehumanizes and commodifies other people is essentially just very up front, "if you're going to be a brat about living at the studio, fine, there's space for you here" but what, that obviously doesn't make any sense? This is his house? What? You haven't so much as sucked this man's dick and--

Oh. That's what he wants for rent this time around, actually: your body. And since he can't exactly force you to work your shitty waiter job and force you to provide good service with a smile, then really, isn't this a PRIVILEGE for you? To just have to put out and you get a free place to live? People would kill to be in your position. But. It's not just sleeping with just anyone. It's HIM. And you're terrified the second you give him an inch he'll take a mile. Sure, today it's "sleep with me at least once a month for rent" but what's going to keep that from becoming "sleep with me once every other week, sleep with me every week, actually you're not allowed to sleep PERIOD unless you fuck or suck me first, actually you know what since you're so loose now I have some friends--"

And it's just terrifyingly obvious to you that he's been planning this and sees basically nothing wrong with it since, I mean, he's been living like a king down here for decades, doing what he wants, getting what he wants. Sure, he may have some, unhinged obsessions with you, but it's also like you're his cute little toy right? He's allowed to make decisions for you, especially now that he's paying for your lodgings and, hey wait suddenly he's insisting on buying you all new clothes and different washing products and taking you to salons and dermatologists and spas and by the time you know it, you're his little, pet slash partner slash arm candy, being dragged around in your designer matching outfits and maybe just maybe the occasional collar or necklace or ring so that people know you're TAKEN and I swear I am healthy and normal 😩❤️

#yandere stuff #sinprompts #dehumanize me but also im still your pretty little doll who gets only the best #valentino x reader #yandere hellaverse

[starcloud-nova]

daiken dies AU?? 👀👀👀

Daiken dies!AU is the AU of all time. It’s an AU I love to use for the purpose of character study and also to completely shake up all my existing character dynamics. Obviously, I have an uncountable number of fantasies and scenarios thought up with this AU, so I will go over my main reason that I am drawn to it, the overarching details, and then any variants at the end.

Daiken dies!AU is such a fun one for me because it completely ruins canon lol. In canon, Daiken (eldest sibling by 5 and 10 years) essentially acts as the ‘heir’ to his father’s crime lord-y ness and is taken on ‘missions’ with him from the ripe ol’ age of 11 all the way up to 18 when his father finally gets arrested. He acts as the protector to Sachi+Kazuki (both 5 years younger), and Kaito (10 years younger). When their father gets arrested, he gets full custody of them.

But if he dies, none of this can happen.

The original purpose of this AU was for me to come up for a what-if scenario for Daiken (14) dying instead of Jamie (13). The whole point of Jamie’s character is that he dies so I didn’t have a ton planned out for him, but if Daiken died…ooh boy a lot would change.

I think if Daiken did die on a mission, it would be very sudden and the siblings would have no warning or time to grief. He would simply leave on a mission, as he usually did (“I’ll see you soon, Sachi. I love you.”), and then never return, with no explanation. This would leave Sachi, Kazuki, and Kaito in a perpetual state of grief for years as they never even attend a funeral or can bury a body. They never get any time to process his death. And they knew their father was awful but they never thought he would let one of them die. All of them, but Sachi especially, view him as essentially being the one to pull the trigger on Daiken; he as good as killed him, in their eyes, and that changes them. 

(An aside: I think their father did actually feel bad about Daiken’s death, bad enough that he hates the idea that he was the one that killed him, but that doesn’t make him any better of a person so!)

With the ‘heir’ gone, a new one would be in need. Kazuki, as the secondborn and next eldest son, would take over this role, but it’s very different from his older brother’s tenure. In canon, when Jamie dies, Daiken finds out weeks later when snooping around for something unrelated, and then goes apeshit about it a few weeks later in front of his father and all his friends. This same thing happens with Jamie, although he doesn’t lose his shit, but their father still decides that his kids are better off not interacting with the other guys’ kids. So Sachi, Kazuki, and Kaito are without a support system that was Daiken’s literal rock and they fall out of contact. On top of that, Kazuki is pushed harder than Daiken ever was, going on missions for days, weeks, and even months at a time, doing more dangerous things than anything Daiken did. Kazuki also has knowledge weighing on him that Daiken didn’t: their father let one of them die. He could let that happen again. 

This changes Kazuki. He goes from a curious, brilliant, quick-minded, loyal kid to a suspicious one who ribs his father a lot more and defies a lot more orders than Daiken did. He still loves knowledge and learning but it’s so insanely hard to keep on top of AP classes when you miss weeks at a time and don’t have reliable time to study. 

Daiken being dead and Kazuki being gone leaves Sachi to mostly fend for herself and take care of Kaito on her own. If she was close to him before, she’s way closer to him now. Flipping canon, Sachi has a job while Kazuki doesn’t because she needs money to keep the lights on and he can’t hold down a job being so absent. Kazuki and Sachi also become a lot more reliant on each other and fight less because they need to be in harmony for everything to work. There’s no older brother they can trust will guide them out of it. It’s just them. They’re insanely interdependent with each other, and coordinate everything, from work schedules to meal planning to taking care of Kaito. They always make sure someone’s there to pick up Kai and be with him whenever possible.

I also like to think that a lot of times, Kazuki gets pulled out of school randomly and without warning to go on missions. Like, he calls or texts Sachi mere hours before he has to leave like “hey, I just got informed I have to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’m sorry”, and they just have to roll with it. It’s definitely an unstable environment to be in.

On the end of the other Sixes/the other criminals’ kids, Daiken’s death acts as a turning point and Jamie slowly bides his time to get out of the hellscape without kicking up a fuss like Daiken. When he finally gets to choose his own name, he goes with “Howling”. I have a very vivid image in my head of Sachi seeing him for the first time in years and just whispering “Howling.” as they lock eyes. 

That’s basically all of the sweeping details. There’s infinite scenarios imagined in my head of different versions of this story playing out but this is the starting point I tend to jump off of. Some of the variants include:

BNHA variant. I dont even gaf about bnha anymore but I like this variant because it puts Sachi and Kazuki in the same school. Sachi is in 1-A and Kazuki is in the support course, and shocker shocker, Azz Adams is also in the support course as a second year. It’s the first time they’ve seen him in years, and he plays a background/non-existent part in the story until something happens on their father’s side that forces them to team up with or confront him with something. When it comes time for UA to go into dorms, Aizawa thankfully shows up when their father isn’t home, so they have the meeting without him, and Sachi and Kazuki refuse because it means being apart from Kaito, who would def. die or something if they weren’t around all the time. Their dead older brother is somewhat of a secret because it’s trauma that they don’t like going around sharing so I like to navigate that. Also I like the idea of there being some LOV attack and Sachi’s like 🤨they’re attacking in That area? That’s Yazuka territory baby.

PJO variant. My PJO au with them is so many shades of a mess because I insist on having them all still be bio siblings but they also must be demigods so I concocted some crazy stuff to keep them all together (namely, all of their parents [Azz, LS, Jacob, Jamie, Perria, Kicks, etc.] purposefully attracted gods so that they could have powerful children. Daiken, Sachi+Kazuki, and Kaito all have different godly parents, buuuuuut they’re all still related so score!). In this AU i just enjoy the idea that they pop into camp, do weird stuff, and then leave because they can’t afford to be sticking around. There’s also a time where they’re unsure if Kaito is a demigod and therefore if he can be let into camp so that’s a big issue until they confirm that yes, he is. Hooray!

Kaito also dies variant. This one could honestly warrant its own post but whatever. I came up with this one while watching Ginny and Georgia (mid show) so I guess you could consider this to be an AU of that but it really doesn’t correlate at all. In the same dramatic fashion as (spoilers for GG) Gil getting shot and Georgia getting shoved around, Kaito accidentally gets shot, straight through the chest, and murdered. By his dad. I think that he accidentally got in the way or something, the details aren’t important. But he dies, extremeeeeeeeely publically, like in the middle of town square if those things were real, and Sachi and Kazuki are both there. And Sachi sees her little brother on the ground, definitely dead, and she. goes. apeshit. She screams at her father “how many of my brothers are you going to kill?” and then beats the shit out of him, kicking, punching, etc. Kazuki helps! And then eventually someone pulls her off of him and she gets one final spit in his face. He lives because of course he does 🙄 but that’s not the point! The point of this AU is that Sachi gets to go apeshit. That’s it.

So yeah. That’s the rundown of Daiken dies!AU. This took me over a month to answer and then I sat down and typed 1.5k in basically one sitting so that explains why it took me so long. I hope you, too, dear reader, can come to appreciate the parentified older brother figure dying tragically at 14 just as much as I do 🥰

#oc tag #tga #nova's ocs #nova's lore #daiken #sachi #kazuki #kaito #jamie #ask #ty catla and aries love u guys #cw death #cw gun violence

[mydetheturk]

it has been something like. eight or so hours. and i am still trying to figure out how the fuck my eye doctor lost my glasses frames???

like. ive been going to the same eye doctor every year for the last like, six years or something like that. they have never once fucked up this badly.

timeline of events, from my pov under the cut because it got way longer than i thought it would when i first started this.

i go to the eye doctor, having set up an appointment like normal (late because its been a weird summer)

everything goes well until the very end, at which point the computer crashes and loses the data.

annoying, but its fine, i just have to go back in the next day and do it all over again on a saturday while they're busy.

go in again the next day. they're busy as hell, so i am there significantly longer than planned, because i'd set up for a late timeslot on friday for a reason (nobody wants to go to the eye doctor at 6:15 on a friday. trust me. it's great its so dead then.)

go through everything over again, i get a huge discount because i had to go through the inconvenience of coming back to the eye doctor. this is the best news, actually, because i hadn't totally been sold on getting new glasses, but i needed them because my old pair literally make my migraines worse.

the first indication that something was wrong was the fact that they didn't have any trial pairs of the contacts i wear.

This would not cross my mind until i picked up the new contacts a week later when they came in.

I try the contacts. Nothing is properly in focus, and i just think to myself, "oh its just cause i have a new scrip, it's fine, I'll get used to them."

i did not, in fact, get used to them.

About a week later, when my glasses come in, i make a mention to the guy fitting them that the contacts don't seem to be right. he tells me i've got plenty of time to bring them back in, they've got policies for stuff like "wrong prescription"

y'all i went to a friend's house on the other side of town two days later and came home via the bypass in the dark and i couldn't read the highway signs.

that's how badly they fucked this up.

i give it to the end of the week to be sure. End of the first pair of contacts, since i wear biweekly ones.

i go in on friday like "hey. this does not work, when can you get me in?"

and the lady at the front desk was like "well we've got a slot open right now if you've got time"

"nope, i only have until the end of the hour because I'm on lunch from work and i don't have either the contacts or the glasses with me right now. got anything for after (time i got off work that day)?"

"the doctor leaves at (time i got off work), will one of these slots tomorrow work?"

set up the appointment for the next day; i've got my glasses and my contacts and the eye doctor put me through a series of eye tests i'd never actually done before, which was kind of cool.

he was like "if you could shift your bangs back that'd be great, actually, i can't tell if you're squinting or not."

and i was like "well i'm doing my best not to but no problem."

appointment went fantastic, he even had trial contacts for me to put in. i almost cried the difference was so stark between the old scrip and the new one. (turns out the old scrip was just off enough it was giving me low-level headaches constantly. fun! not.)

so i leave the old contacts and the glasses with them to get the lenses replaced and for my new contacts to be ordered. (i looked at the eye chart they sent home with me cause i wanted to see the difference in the prescriptions. there should not be a discrepancy of over a whole number between the two. per eye.)

i picked up the contacts last week.

and now.

today.

this morning, i get two (2) texts saying my orders are in and ready to be picked up. sweet, i think to myself. i'll go pick them up later, get myself a treat while i'm out. grab something for dinner, etc.

i get there and its dead because its been raining all day. fantastic! it shouldn't take long.

i go in.

they're dead.

i let them know i'm here to pick up my order.

here comes today's first confusion: the guy at the desk is having trouble finding my order. which. okay. not a problem (yet).

so i sit and wait and fiddle around on my phone for several minutes while the guy hunts for my glasses.

I am slowly growing more and more confused.

another guy starts helping him out.

the first guy finds a couple of doctor-style ziplock bags and asks me if i have my frames with me.

"Nnnnno. I left them with you guys two weeks ago. I was assuming when I came in, my frames would have new lenses."

I am very confused now.

the gentlemen go on the hunt for my frames.

several more minutes go by, and i am increasingly incredulous and more confused.

i think to myself "did they lose my fucking frames????"

the first guy is sent to the racks of frames to grab a pair of frames that look almost, but not quite, like one of the frames i left with them. blue instead of brown.

the guy goes back in with the frames and i am fully invested.

because.

it sure as hell looks like they lost my fucking frames.

y'all.

they lost my fucking frames.

they got ahold of the lady who's been so helpful basically every time i've seen her and they let me know the situation.

tomorrow, she's going to look into the situation for me. see if she can't find my frames, and if she can't, replace them. gonna call and let me know tomorrow what the deal is.

they offered to give me the blue frames until they could find the frames i'd gotten originally - from THERE, mind you - and i was like

"i don't need the glasses to see. i wear contacts most of the time. my glasses are backups."

so i wasted a solid 45 minutes at the eye doctor today and i'm sure i'll still have to go in tomorrow to talk to someone because they mentioned potentially having to re-order the glasses frames from another store if they couldn't find my glasses.

this was at like. 2:45 this afternoon.

i'm still just like how in the hell did you lose them????

spoke to my roommates earlier about it and they were BOTH like "you are having a shit time with your eyes this year huh?"

and its just like

YEAH. YEAH I AM, ACTUALLY. CAN I GET OFF THIS ROLLERCOASTER NOW

just.

crhist alive

#myde talks #y'all i still have a headache #i'll reblog this tomorrow with an update #myde's eyes #block that tag if you don't care #the woes of capitalism

[nagalias-mindscape]

Can’t sleep. Must write. So, have a(two) little blurb(s) from the fanfic I’m writing. Except it’s currently all crack spin offs like Iceberg meeting the Scarlet King (which may actually become canon. I don’t know, yet. Same with this thing, depending. I really haven’t decided.)

This one is two snippets for Iceberg’s (second) meeting with 682. This is unedited because it’s 2:45 AM for me and I’m too tired to make it pretty and fancy and coherent. Yucky tired editing, boo-hiss!

Iceberg knew that 682 could talk, but he was not expecting the voice. Deep and gravelly. Hoarse. Something about it faintly echoed in the back of Icebergs head, filling him with a feeling of disjointed dread. Of the first dregs of hopelessness mixed with the beginning embers of fury, with an undertone of something physically unpleasant. Like bugs crawling over every inch of his skin. Like trying to breathe through heavy wool.

Iceberg ignored it much like he ignored most of his problems and pulled on his anomaly to be rid of the unnatural feeling. Why bother with the useless distractions when he could instead ignore it simply by making it disappear? It perhaps wasn’t the most healthy of options and Dr. Glass was going to give Iceberg that very pointed frowning glare of his when he learned of this, but he could afford the intentional misuse of his anomaly for this meeting if it kept him from feeling weird things and turning tail.

Wouldn’t that just be embarrassing- turning tail on a meeting he had requested. He really was stupid, wasn’t he?

“Yes… I remember you.” 682 seemed… for the lack of a better word, amused. “Has the Foundation come to try another useless attempt at ending my existence? Ha!” 682 barked out a laugh, and Iceberg felt a sea of something molten momentarily flood his senses before it was hungrily devoured by the ever-growing abyssal cavity of ice inside of him. “As amusing as it is, surely even they grow tired of all the failures?”

“I imagine so,” Iceberg nodded his head, “but I’m not here to kill you. I actually wanted to talk if you were up for it.”

682 made a sound that was like a mix of a wheezing laugh and distained huff. It would have been impressive if not for the sneering growl that came after it and the quicker-than-a-blink lunge that followed immediately afterwards.

Iceberg, being the snow-apocalypse poorly bound in human flesh that he is, simply let his senses expand and melded into the abyssal cold that has been clawing at his existence ever since he obtained his anomalous abilities. The literal explosion of snow, ice, and cold had only hurt the initial first time he’d done this, but now it was almost as simple as breathing for him.

(Iceberg still refused to tell people how he had learned to do this or that he’d literally blown himself up the first time and 408 had a feast on what little remained of his blood and guts. He had not expected to lose a bet to 408, much less three times in a row. For all that it was humiliating to have a hive-mind of butterflies try to teach him, Iceberg couldn’t deny that they had done a phenomenal job. That it was the stepping stone towards maybe finally being able to repay Dr. Bright for all he’d done for him was just a bonus, really.)

(Also, 408 were chatterboxes when you didn’t have to rely on their visual communication skills. How Dr. Kondraki could stand being in contact with them twenty four hours, seven days a week, was a mystery to Iceberg, but he was getting off topic.)

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

Idly, he noticed that he had fallen over and was now laying in the snow alongside 682, who was giving him a weird look. Ultimately he ignored it, left himself where he was, and muttered to himself still loud enough for 682 but maybe not loud enough for the people in the observation chamber. Hopefully safe from his stupidity.

“Yeah, okay. Fair, life can be painful and unfair and a right bitch. But, like, if you’re willing to cut down on the murder thing the Foundation will probably be willing to help make everything stop… hurting. We just need a direction to go in. We can’t help unless you’re willing to work with us and talk.”

“What makes you think you understand, worm?”

“I don’t- I’m not you.” Iceberg huffed out, turning himself so he was flat on his back and staring at the brightly-lit ceiling of the containment chamber instead of 682’s lower mandible. “But here you are, not murdering me outright for burying you in snow. Which, from observation of your past interactions with things, indicates you don’t hate it outright.

682 growled again, but nothing extra surged forth to uncomfortably greet him this time, and it turned to bury its head in the snow that had built up around it. That was fine with Iceberg, he could wait. He knew patience, despite popular opinion. Just didn’t like to exercise it under normal circumstances. Normal circumstances these were not.

Instead, he took a leap of faith and closed his eyes. Allowed himself to be slowly buried under the still falling snow alongside 682. Allowed himself to be weak and undefended right next to a being who could- and possibly would- attempt to murder him again once it hit some imaginary barrier on its own patience.

Iceberg simply kept his eyes closed and allowed a small smile to grace his lips when he heard 682 make some kind of snort-huff sound and then shift to curl up around him.

Proof that his foolish gamble was paying off for the time being. In five minutes from now, who knew. Certainly not him, but he could just become literal snow if 682 tried to attack him once again.

#Tumblr stop asking me to add Tags to a WIP post. I’m getting there! #text #scp #scp fanfiction #too tired to edit properly- sorry #dr iceberg #scp 682

[doverstar]

Some more fun facts about my husband, who I've said looks/acts a lot like a Christian version of Eddie, because I like talking about him and these just came to mind a moment ago while he was eating takeout upside-down on the floor.

He's a big hit at weddings because of how he dances. He has natural rhythm and fantastic hip movement, but it's a big hit specifically because he doesn't do any traditional dance moves. He just moves his long arms and legs in an insane way. He can dance for hours.

He was in the marching band in high school, but according to legend, he was the most problematic member. When they practiced on the football field, he would bring sunflower seeds (not allowed) and mess up the field by spitting the shells out into a huge pile wherever he'd been standing. He used to give the seeds to other band members so they could use the spit-out shells to mark their places until the field was littered with sunflower seeds and his teacher banned them from bringing snacks. Husband did it anyway and created a seed smuggling ring.

The band went to play at Disney World one year and Husband's friend joked that he wanted a pink MagicBand for the trip. The band teacher sneered at that and made some rude comment about boys and pink. So my husband went out and bought a highlighter-pink T-shirt and wore it every day of the trip when he wasn't in uniform, to the teacher's irritation.

He pretends to die sometimes when I kiss him on the cheek or head. Usually on the couch. Eyes roll up in his head, tongue lolling out.

If he's talking and he trips over something in the middle of a sentence, or misses a step on a flight of stairs, or loses his footing at all for a moment, he has a habit of making a big obnoxious show of suddenly losing all balance and ending up on the ground like a starfish. For the laugh.

Makes the husky meme face after every punchline he delivers. It's his contact photo on my phone.

He thinks Boromir is the best LOTR character and quotes him often. Paused the Two Towers movie about four times to talk loudly, at 3 AM, about Boromir and his love for Boromir, and I almost felt threatened.

At our wedding, I got him a huge viking flask made of oak to drink out of, and he takes it to D&D sessions.

He's currently reading Dragons of Autumn Twilight by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman, something I 100% believe Eddie has read.

Calls me love, buddy, and gorgeous as nicknames.

Has a habit of drinking milk, juice, soda, etc. straight out of the jug/carton/2-liter even before it's near empty. Really likes milk.

He will get up at all hours of the night and snack on anything he can find. Goldfish, granola bars, pie in the fridge, the last of the orange juice, Cheeze-Its. He likes Trail Mix without M&Ms and when we were in the friends-to-lovers stage, I once picked out every M&M in my Trail Mix and gave it to him and he apparently kept it for a week without eating it because he liked me.

He has a collection of CDs stashed in his car that are all metal, rock, and variants of that. I think they're alphabetized.

He drove a red Mustang he named Rose (her shift knob is a resin, red rose he bought for decoration) until about five months ago. It is the loudest, most Hoodlum™ car ever and we have been pulled over for no reason more than once, because it really just makes him look like trouble. I reserve the right to dump my appreciation for my fella anywhere. But like I said, little things about him inspire a lot of my Eddie writing, so enjoy if you're interested in my inner mechanisms.

#doverstar's fella #thoughts #text post #husband #eddie #eddie munson #eddie my beloved #stranger things #eddissy #hellcheer #chrissy #chrissy cunningham #stranger things 4 #st4 #st #netflix

[kierancampire]

Just venting

Part of therapy today was mentioning that i still am upset that mum thinks i need a carer, and that she treats me like i am incapable or that i am still the same person i was when i lived with her yet never acknowledges why i was the way i was, but my sister who can't wash dishes or do laundry is completely fine apparently. And i said part of the reason i think mum feels this way is my sister has a stable job and i don't work

Even though Jayne rated me both severely depressed and severely anxious when i last saw her, even though i almost cried when she asked me to do something and i told her how broken i am and that i can't do any more right now, even though she has contacted my doctor about me, something she's never done, even though she knows everything that is going on and that i am going through right now, and even though she knows that i get enough pressure about that and that is partly why i opened up to her about being frustrated cause my mum seemingly places so much of capability in a job (though i feel even if i had one, that still wouldn't be enough for her). Jayne still questioned me about why I'm not working, gave me a list of jobs she thinks i can do, told me that i need to get into work, and told me that i am in a great position to get started on it now

She referenced our last session a few times, so she hasn't forgot it already. How can i go from crises to work ready in 2 weeks? I literally ended up have a meltdown yesterday cause of my neighbours noise, I'm struggling under so many things right now that I'm struggling to live, yet i can manage work?

I won't deny, i don't want to work, i don't wanna be stuck in a thing that takes all my time and energy and causes severe stress, that in return maybe gives me enough to just about get by if I'm lucky, and i have no one and nothing else to help me get by. But at the same time, i don't wanna keep living like this as it's miserable, lonely, and there is guilt. But my confidence in my appearance, my mental and physical health, it just ain't there, i also have no idea what i wanna do or what i could do, as I'm not like other people, i can't cope in something that has me unhappy or suffering and force myself through it, i crash, lose my shit, things go bad

And one thing I'm sick of, I've been saying for years that the largest reason I'm not working is because of how crap life has been and all that's going on, and i feel like it is starting to sound like an excuse after all these years, trust me, I'm sick of it more than anyone. But this has been my life for these past few years. It has been like that. No stops. No breaks. There's a reason I'm so depressed, miserable, and burnt out. Even if i had the self-confidence (which is another severe issue) and felt mentally and physically i was more capable, I've been going through so much and have so much going on, i dunno how i woulda managed a job ontop of it all, i feel like I'm barely managing as is

I hate it, i feel shitty about it, i hate whenever someone new asks me what i do for a living and i say nothing. I hate that from others and even internally all my worth is placed on my having a career, i hate that i feel i can't, i hate putting it off, i hate feeling it is inevitable, i hate not knowing what i could do, i hate having all these issues, and i hate that life keeps being almost nothing but shit. But what i also hate is, when I'm literally venting to someone about this, and how shitty it makes me feel due to everything going on, and that person decides that's the perfect moment to add to the issue, grill me on it and try to pressure me into it? And that's the person i go to for support?

I've said it before and I'll say it again, i don't have one person fighting my corner, but i sure as shit have everyone fighting against me, even after hearing how much I'm struggling. Part of why i cried on my way back is my mind went to some real dark places and I'm starting to struggle in seeing how that is the illogical part of me. I just can't keep going on if this is my life and the only person handling it all is me, and if i dare go to another person, every time they just fight against me. I'm so burnt out and can't keep doing it. I don't know how i will if it goes on for much longer

#personal

[mykingdommusic]

OF THE MUSES: the sound of grief and pain

In the last 20 years and more, for my work, I listen to an incredible amount of new bands and their albums. We are talking about at least ten a week and it has rarely happened to me to be literally enraptured by what I was listening to, so much so that I immediately had to contact the authors of that work and tell them how much their Art had excited me. This is what happened to me while listening to the studio rehearsals of what would become "Senhal", OF THE MUSES recording debut, the artistic alter ego of a talented musician, incredible for her technical and compositional skills and above all able to giving life to her own emotions like a few ones are able to do. I'm talking about Cristina Rombi, a sublime, intimate and eclectic creature. Let's enter her world!

1.   Day after day we are getting closer and closer to the release of "Senhal", the recording debut of your creature OF THE MUSES, scheduled for the beginning of November for My Kingdom Music. With what state of mind do you live this period and what do you expect?

I think "curious" might be the right word! I'm not sure what to expect, and that's the fun part. I know what this whole process was about for me personally, which feelings and intentions were funneled into the album, but I have no clue how the finished thing will be received by the listeners. One thing I do know for sure, however, is that feedback is something you can learn a great deal from. This matters a lot to me, because evolution is something I truly value. Anything that happens, I will treasure it and make the most of it.

2.   How did you arrive to give life to your extremely personal project and so tied to your essence, that is OF THE MUSES, and then to give voice to it through the compositions of the debut album "Senhal"? What is OF THE MUSES for you?

It took a while. Some of the songs that ended up on the album were written as early as 2012! It's been a lengthy, tortuous and conflicted process, just like the relationship I have with myself. For years, I tried to make things happen in a 'band' setting, in an attempt to rely on other people, but for a variety of reasons (partly because I never quite met the right people for the job, but also because I have a really hard time managing group situations), things never really worked out. Still, the desire to create something entirely of my own never really went away. Until at some point, I had a "now or never" kind of epiphany, faced my insecurities and the fear of not being up to the task, repurposed some old songs, wrote new ones, and that's how "Senhal" came into being. As for OF THE MUSES, as pretentious as this might sound, this project is what was missing from my life in order for me to feel truly fulfilled. I'm an extremely restless, even neurotic person when I'm not making music. OF THE MUSES is an antidote and a way for me not to lose touch with who I am.

3.   I, who was lucky enough to listen to it in preview, before the final stage of mixing and mastering, strongly feel that "Senhal" is a work extremely lived on your skin. Every note, every musical element, every voice, every atmosphere created for it reveals in a unique way what you are and want to represent. Do you think this is true and above all from an emotional point of view what did the composition and then the realization of this work leave you?

You've hit the nail on the head. Making this album was an exorcism of sorts. I could never see myself releasing something that doesn't 100% honor who I am and the emotional experience I am having. In that sense, and especially from a songwriting perspective, everything about "Senhal" is deeply intentional.

4.   "Senhal" musically seems to be pervaded by two distant, but at the same time so close, souls. There is malice and sweetness, violence and delicacy, despair and calm, pain and joy. In my opinion, this eternal dualism allows the entire work to travel on an always subtle but extremely magical balance that has your voice as the focal element that characterizes and personalizes everything. What can you tell me about my impression?

I really like this take because I've always been fond of contrast. First and foremost, because my personality itself is full of it, so I don't think I would ever be able to write something that is 'just' aggressive or 'just' mellow or sad. Actually, I think the same applies to all of us! Humans are complex generally speaking, it's just that for some reason a lot of people assume there's no room for nuance in Metal. Particularly in Black Metal, which, in truth, is a lot more versatile than that. In the same way, joy can be violent, love can be brutal and destructive and suffering can be quiet and covert. Needless to say, I have a rather… complicated relationship with my own voice, and, on this record, I really pushed it to the limit (how I didn't wreak permanent damage to it, I have no idea). I'm glad you see it as a signature element! Our voice is quite possibly the most personal instrument in that, after all, the sound comes from within the body itself. And even though I would personally love to be more skilled in that department, the idea of my voice conveying some kind of emotion to the listener is something that brings me joy.

5.   Talking to you, but also listening to the album, we agreed that the main musical reference points can be bands like Alcest, Myrkur, Woods Of Desolation, Harakiri For The Sky, Happy Days, Dreariness, Slowdive, Cocteau Twins and in any case the entire Blackgaze scene even if I think you manage better than others to make Pop the extreme and extreme the Pop in a circle that really doesn't allow you to come out safe. What did these bands and this musical trend mean and represent to you and how do you think OF THE MUSES differs from it?

Blackgaze was surely an inspiration to me, and each one of the bands you listed is extremely influential! For sure, listening to "Souvenirs d'un Autre Monde" for the first time is something that shaped me indelibly, both as a listener and as a songwriter. I got the same feeling when I came across "Torn Beyond Reason". Such records helped me realize there is a way to express what I always wanted to express, in the way I feel inclined to do it. But every single one of these bands has their unique personality and vision. I don't necessarily think I'm doing anything groundbreaking compared to these artists, but I can say that I strive to develop my own personal style. Perhaps, as you say, there's a sense of melody that emerges in a more prominent way through the clean vocals. I can also say that, compared to what these bands are doing, "Senhal" is a bit more heterogeneous and various, which is something people could either love or hate!

6.   If I'm not mistaken, the title "Senhal" is linked to a concept you hold dear. Do you want to talk to me?

Sure! Basically, the word Senhal is borrowed from old Occitan lyric poetry. In this tradition, this specific word is used as a code name, to keep the love interest's real identity a secret (that's more or less what it means). As a hopeless/hopeful romantic, I've always been fascinated with the world of troubadours and courtly love; not to mention, the South of France is a place I love to return to. The first time I stumbled upon this word, I immediately adored it, to the point I initially thought about adopting it as my monicker. However, I soon discovered the existence of another band named Senhal, and they're Italian, to boot. Eventually, I had to reconsider using Senhal as a bandname, but I didn't feel like giving up the word altogether, since the whole album revolves around the idea of talking about my experience without being too revealing. It would have been impossible to find an equally descriptive word that sums up the topics and lyrics of the album to such an accurate extent.

7.   Besides music, what are the main artistic and non-artistic influences that we can find in OF THE MUSES and in any case how did they enter the sphere of "Senhal"?

The non-musical influences are countless! Generally speaking, anything that sparks my interest ends up inspiring me, be it historical events, natural catastrophes, anomalous places… very often I will incorporate those references as allegories. Often, but not always: with the second album, which is already in the works, I'm focusing a lot more on telling the story of specific events, and the historical context they originated from. As for "Senhal", it was definitely influenced by my relationship with the supernatural. Witchcraft and divination are part of my day-to-day life, as well as dreams, particularly those that turn out to be premonitions or visits from other people. A lot of this ended up in "Senhal", especially the latter part. But essentially, love is what prevails. Particularly, the star crossed, impossible kind of love you can only really meet, like I said, in your dreams. Among the artistic-but-not-musical influences, I would also list Petrarch, Antonin Artaud, Pablo Neruda, Wim Wenders' movies, mythology, religious iconography, Middle Ages, my own childhood and nature (and I''m probably forgetting a few, but these are the first that come to mind).

8.   While we wait the release of the album, would you like to leave us a message? 

First of all I'd like to publicly thank you, Francesco, for your trust and for this nice Q&A! It's a honor and a privilege to be able to reach people. The only hope for hopeless romantics is to find one another, and I hope there'll be many of us.

[perfect-8aughter]

reflections of the night

Sometimes I get hit with waves of sadness and the need to be validated by those around me. I am a shit person who just messes up. I can't think about the future without starting to literally cry. I am so lost right now and it feels like I am losing everyone around me. I don't know how to be a different person and I don't know what to do because I am without a family right now (OR at least it feels that way). I right this while listening to family line by conan gray and matilda by harry styles. Both of these sings feel like they are directly written about me. I don't know if it gets any easier and if it does I really want that to happen soon. I just clicked on a playlist and the description was,, "you are so loved//songs about the importance and power of found family." On the note of found family, I cant describe the feeling of feeling like you are losing something.. it just feels like everything is temporary and I just feel like I am going to abandoned by those around me. The likeliness of this is slim but it is hard to go from having to raise yourself and take care of yourself because of a messed up family and transitioning to a place where people actually care about you and your well being. Its weird to think about all of the events that have led up to where I currently am. It feels like someone keeps setting me up and laughing at when I fail and can't take it anymore.

It feels like I am constantly wasting my limited time.

I have been holding in all of this emotion over the past couple of weeks and I don't know if it is because of my period (I hate when people blame things on their period--but I have a rise in my hormones right now) but I was hit with an huge wave of sadness all of the sudden. I wish I could hug my younger self and tell her its okay and that you don't have to do the things you have done to cope with the overbearing sadness.

I hope that if something happens one day that someone random comes across this and reads about how shitty I have always felt. I sometimes feel like I am always going to be stuck in this moment in my life. It feels like when you have seasonal depression but it hasn't ended in like 2 years.

I truly hate my mother. Can I even call her that? She hasn't parented me literally ever in my life. She has the nerve to reach out after YEARS of no contact and act like she is my mother. She can come back into my life ( UNINVITED mind you ) and try to act like a mother. Claim that she cares for me and wants to tell me that she is on my side and doesn't understand why I am so mad at her? She is stupid. Maybe ill regret saying that but right now I don't.

This is all for tonight. Goodbye

Songs of the night:

Family Line by Conan gray

Maltida by Harry Styles

Younger Self by Nancy Daines

j's lullaby (darlin' i'd wait for you) by Delaney Bailey

Getting Older by Billie Eilish

[bing-bang-bingo]

- 4x3: c. 40:00 Cas comforts Dean after Mary makes a deal w/ Azazel

- 4x7: 15:50 Dean stops Sam from shooting Cas, then Sam mentions that he’s “heard a lot about him”

- 4x7: 39:00 Cas tells Dean he prayed he’d save the town, then he tells him about his doubts and Deans future troubles

- 4x10 & ???: Dean calls “last night on Earth” his best line. He uses this line on Cas

- 4x10: 27:15 “Castiel has this weakness. He likes you.”

- 4x10: 32:50 Cas looking jealous and sad when Dean kisses Anna

- 4x16: 7:30 Cas tells Dean he got in trouble for showing emotion and getting to close to Dean. 8:20 “I would give anything not to have you do this”

- 4x16: 39:00 Cas warns Dean to be careful while Dean is in the hospital, they discuss the first seal and saving Dean from hell

- 4x18: 31:30 Cas tells Dean how to save Sam from Lilith even though he’s not allowed to interfere

- 4x20: 38:00 Deans face when Cas tells him he “learned his lesson when he was in heaven”

- 4x22: 30:40 Cas considers rebelling for Dean. 33:00 He does. 35:20 He fights multiple Archangels for Dean

- 5x1: 5:45 Dean denies Cas’ death 8:25 “I learned that from my friend Cas you son of a bitch”

- 5x1: 31:00 Cas saves Sam and Dean from Zach

- 5x3: 6:10 Cas-“I need your help because your the only one who will help me”

- 5x3: 10:20 Dean fixes Cas’ tie and jacket

- 5x4: 38:50 “Don’t Ever Change”

- 5x8: 38:20 Dean makes Gabriel bring Cas back, then makes sure he’s okay

- 5x13: ?:?? Cas won’t let Dean meet with Anna because it’s not safe

- 5x17: 30:30 Cas and Dean discuss what it’s like to have a deadbeat dad

- 5x18: 25:15 Cas kicks Deans ass for trying to sacrifice himself

- 5x21: 3:50 Cas and Dean bickering like and old married couple then Cas gives Dean a heartfelt apology.

- 6x17: 18:55 “No you’re confusing me with the other angel, the one in the dirty trench coat who is in love with you.”

- 6x17: 38:00 Sam: “So you killed 50,000 people for us?” Cas: *looks at Dean*

- 6x19: 25:20 Bobby reassures Cas that they’ll be back soon, Cas acts like a worried and disappointed wife.

- 6x19: 36:25 Cas yelling “Dean!” when Eve bites him

- 6x19: 40:00 Dean is the only one who doesn’t think Cas is working with Crowley (he’s wrong but it’s sweet)

- 6x20: 4:50 Dean v v worried, “But Cas you’ll call right? If you get into real trouble?”

- 6:30 Crowley implies that Cas is distracted by Dean and tells him he reeks of the Impala.

- 7:20 Cas says that Dean taught him how to care and what to care about. Then Cas saves Sam (for Dean)

- 13:15 Cas says that the worst part of working with Crowley (basically his sworn natural enemy) is that it hurt Dean and that he hated lying to him.

- 25:20 Cas refuses to ask Dean for help because he has “sacrificed too much” even though it means Cas could die.

- 26:00 Crowley tells Cas he has a way for everyone to get a happy ending “with all possible entendres intended” while Cas stares longingly at Dean.

- 33:00 Dean is close to tears when he learns that Cas is working with Crowley, Cas says he did it to protect Dean.

- 35:25 “Dammit Cas we can fix this!” “Dean it’s not broken!” He then tells the boys to run from the demon cloud and Dean gives him the saddest look in the world before being forced to leave him behind.

- 38:00 Cas watches Dean sleep. “I’m doing this for you Dean. I’m doing this because of you!”

- 6x21: 22:40 “I do everything you ask. I always come when you call and I am your friend. Still despite your lack of faith in me and now your threats I’ve just saved you yet again. Has anyone but your closest kin ever done more for you?”

- 6x22: Dean to Cas- “Don’t make me lose you, too.”

- 7x2: 5:35 Dean nearly cries on screen when he thinks Cas is dead

- 7x17: Cas says “I remember ~you~” as soon as he regains his memories.

- 7x17: Cas ask why Dean didn’t tell him all the horrible things Cas did. Parallels the conversation Karen and Dean had about telling Bobby she remembered him killing her and her telling Dean that he had never been on love before.

- 7x21: The face Dean makes when he sees Cas again plus the prolonged eye contact when Cas says Deans name.

- 7x21: Hester telling Dean that when Cas first saved him from Hell he was lost- parallels- Lucifer/Jess saying she was dead the moment she met Sam.

- 7x23: 8:50 “Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first.” Meg to Dean about Cas

- 7x23: 32:45 “I’m sorry but I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”

- 7x23: 36:50 Cas steps in to protect Dean despite spending the whole season avoiding fighting and saying he won’t fight.

- 8x2: 25:00 Cas ran away to keep the Leviathans away from Dean. Dean refuses to leave purgatory without Cas.

- 8x7: 20:30 Deans reaction to seeing Cas all cleaned up.

- 8x7: Dean convinced himself that it was his fault Cas was still in purgatory because he’s a sweet idiot boy who hates himself

- 8x7: 35:00 The whole Dean and Cas conversation about purgatory and Cas doing stuff that puts him in danger.

- 8x8: 12:30 Cas just casually going through Deans stuff and Dean not saying anything.

- 8x8: 13:00 Cas offering to watch over Dean while he slept

- 8x8: 15:15 Dean talks to Cas about feelings and heaven even though Dean hates talking about feelings.

- 8x17: Cas fights Naomi’s mind control for Dean

- 8x23: 22:50 Dean and Cas sadly discuss Cas closing the doors of heaven and say goodbye

- 9x1: Dean prays to Cas and tells him he isn’t mad about the angels falling.

- 9x1: Cas’ first instinct is to explain himself to Dean then to come help him.

- 9x1: Dean begs Cas to “for once, look out for yourself.”

- 9x3: 36:45 Dean to Cas after Cas came back from the dead “Don’t you ever do that again!”

- 9x6: Literally just Dean trying desperately the whole episode to hang out with Cas

- 9x10: 26:00 Dean and Cas talk about how Cas is doing and Dean offers him a rare sincere apology. Plus the “I prefer the term ‘trusting’. Less dumb, less ass.” dialogue

- 9x18: Cas’ little smile when Dean makes a joke about Honor Bars and Cas is just so happy to hear his voice.

- 9x18: Metatron’s illusion of Gabriel calls Cas Dean’s boy-toy

- 9x18: Cas can tell something is wrong with Dean, then Cas yells at Dean about getting the Mark of Cain

- 9x22: Cas chooses Dean over all of Heaven once again

- 9x22: The Cas and Dean conversation about the three of them being enough when an army wasn’t and Cas giving up an army all for Dean

- 9x23: “I’m blaming you for taking Cas’ grace.”

- 10x1: 5:00 Cas about Dean- “I miss him.”

- 10x2: 9:00 Cas’ reaction to learning that Dean is a demon

- 10x3: The conversation between Dean and Cas at the end of the episode. “You look terrible” “You on the other hand, your looking good.”

- 10x5: Deans reaction to Cas and Dean actors hugging and holding hands

- 10x5: “Put as much sub into that text as you possibly can.” *looks directly at fake Cas*

- 10x9: 15:00 Cas tells Dean he’s a good role model. Then asks him if he’s okay and when Dean lies and says he is he pushes it further. Dean makes Cas promise to kill him if he goes Dark

- 10x22: Dean and Cas fight and parallel Cain and his Wife.

- 10x23: Dean sees Cas’ bloody face in the mirror

- 11x1: Cas being more worried about Dean than himself even though Cas is under a spell that will kill him.

- 11x2: Dean calling Cas and stressing out when he doesn’t answer

- 11x3: Dean trying to coax Cas out of the attack dog spell, refusing to fight back when Cas was attacking, freaking out when Cas took a minute to wake up, refusing to let Cas heal him (because he “had it coming”), and refusing to let Cas apologize (because “there’s nothing to apologize for”).

- 11x10: “Dean, I came as soon as you called.” Also: “Stick your tongue out.” Dean-*does*

- 11x11: Dean realizing that something is wrong with Cas (while he is possessed by Lucifer)

- 11x11: Mildred says that Dean is pining for someone else(probably meant to be a reference to Amara, but she told him this after he had seen Cas for the first time in a few days.)

- 11x14: The sadness on Deans face when he realizes Cas is Lucifer and then his determination to save Cas

- 11x15: Dean getting kinda dark when he talks about what he’s willing to do to save Cas and he prioritizes saving Cas over bearing Amara.

- 11x17: Dean once again prioritizing saving Cas over saving the world. Sam reassuring Dean that they’ll save Cas (even though Dean didn’t say anything about what was upsetting him)

- 11x17: The camera zooming in on Dean after Michelle says that there is no normal after losing the man you love.

- 11x18: Dean refuses to put Lucifer in the cage or let him fight Amara while using Cas as his vessel.

- 11x18: The difference in the way Dean looks at Lucifer vs at Cas

- 11x18: Dean about Cas: “Lets go find that idiot and bring him home.”

- 11x19: Dean has been looking for leads non stop for a week since Amara took Cas

- 11x21: Amara uses Cas’s heart to find Dean, then shows Dean images of Cas beaten and bloodied to convince him to turn against Chuck

- 11x23: Dean’s face when he realizes Cas is back and Lucifer is gone.

- 11x23: Dean tells Cas he isn’t stupid and that he always helps

- 11x23: Cas: “Dean are you okay? How do you feel?”

- 11x23: Cas hugging Dean super tight before he goes off to die. Dean entrusting his life’s purpose (look after Sam) then thanking him for everything.

- 12x1: Cas seeing that Dean is alive and hugging him while his voice breaks.

- 12x1: Cas taking the job Dean have him very seriously

- 12x2: Dean adorably venting to Cas about his mommy-issues

- 12x3: Dean- “Morning sunshine want some coffee.” Cas- “No thank you.”

- 12x7: “Well at least I don’t look like a lumberjack.” They are such husbands

- 12x7: “Engaged in what Cas? killing you?”

- 12x8: Cas being so worried about what happened to Sam and DEAN that Kelly escaped.

- 12x9: Mary-“You left them!” Cas- *voice breaking* “Dean told me to go!” Also, just Cas looking so hard for them.

- 12x9: Cas blaming himself for Sam and Dean being taken

- 12x9 Cas knowing how long the boys have been gone down to the hour.

- 12x9: Cas’s voice and eyes when he hears Dean’s voice on the phone.

- 12x9: Cas killing Billie because “You mean too much to me” and “The world needs as many Winchesters as it can get.”

- 12x10: Poor Sam having to deal with Cas and Dean while they fight like an old married couple.

- 12x10: Dean immediately telling Ishim to go to hell when he insults Cas

- 12x10: Sam telling Dean to go to Cas when Dean thought Cas was in trouble

- 12x10: Cas immediately believing Dean about Ishim even though they’re mad at each other. Dean about to let Ishim kill him to save Cas.

- 12x10: Ishim comparing Dean and Cas’s relationship to Ishims relationship with his human lover, then saying he was going to cut Cas’s human weakness

- 12x11: “And Cas is my best friend.”

- 12x12: Dean about Cas- “My shy but devastatingly handsome friend here...”

- 12x12: Dean stressing out and voice breaking as he tries to comfort poisoned Cas

- 12x12: LITERALLY TOLD DEAN THAT HE LOVED HIM WHILE CAS WAS DYING

- 12x12: *looking at Dean* “I love you.” Then adds “I love all of you”

- 12x12: Cas- “Run.” Dean- “Cas, no.”

- 12x12: The look Dean gives Cas when he won’t stop staring at him after he’s healed.

- 12x14: Dean says some very harsh stuff to Mary after finding out the reason they Cas almost died at the lake house was because Mary was working for the British Men of Letters

- 12x15: Dean could tell something was up with Cas after talking to him for less than a minute, over the phone.

- 12x18: Sam trying to make Dean feel better about not hearing from Cas.

- 12x19: Dean literally always acting like a scorned wife when Cas comes back after long periods of time

- 12x19: Dean made Cas a mixtape

- 12x19: Cas- “I ~needed~ to came back here with a win for you.”

- 12x19: Cas- *gesturing between Dean and himself* “You mean... we?” Dean- “Yes, dumbass, we.”

- 12x23: Dean screaming for Cas when he attacks Lucifer and trying to chase after him forcing Sam to drag Dean back through the rift. A direct parallel to Dean pulling Sam away from Jess and the fire in Pilot

- 12x23: Dean kneeling next to Cas’s dead body looking up at the sky completely devastated.

- 13x1: Dean couldn’t bring himself to say dead when referring to Cas

- 13x1: Dean PRAYED to GOD to bring Cas back

- 13x1: “We just lost ~everything~. And now you’re gonna bring ~him~ back.”

- 13x1: Dean personally wrapping Cas’s body and giving him a hunters funeral.

- 13x1: The look of complete devastation on Dean’s face when he burns Cas’s body.

- 13x3: Dean refusing to help save Jack because he blames him for manipulating Cas and getting him killed.

- 13x4: The Empty to Cas: “I know what you love, what you fear. There is nothing for you back there.” He loves Dean and Cas fears that Dean doesn’t love him back.

- 13x5: Sam being worried about Dean who has given up all hope since Cas died.

- 13x5: Dean being so distressed thinking Cas is gone forever that he tries to kill himself

- 13x5: Dean seeing Cas alive again and they both have tears in their eyes.

- 13x6: Dean hugging Cas and saying he’s been gone for “too damn long”

- 13x6: Dean being immediately happier and nicer to everyone once Cas is back

- 13x6: Cas saying “Yes. Yes, he does” (in response to Jack saying Dean really likes cowboys) with the tone of an exhausted spouse.

- 13x6: “I told you, he’s an angry sleeper. Like a bear.”

- 13x6: Dean made Cas watch Tombstone with him.

- 13x6: Dean and Cas dresses like cowboy husbands.

- 13x6: Cas saying “I’m your huckleberry” to Dean in a deep accent and Dean looking away.

- 13x6: Their undercover names are Russel and Kilmer

- 13x14: The whole scene where Cas and Dean fight Gog/Magog and act like an old married couple.

- 13x14: The angry, dark look Cas gives Donatello when he tries to kill Dean

- 13x16: “Dean has him by the thigh!” Cas, jealously: “He ~what~?”

- 13x16: “and that includes the Cartwright twins.” Cas, again jealously: “what did you do with the Cartwright twins?”

- 13x19: Cas angrily confronting Naomi about forcing him to kill a bunch of Dean clones.

- 13x21: Cas secretly sliding Dean more pizza when Mary and Sam left the room.

- 13x21: Cas having to hold Dean back from going after Sam. Dean would have beat the shit out of anyone else who tried to stop him.

- 13x23: Cas trying to stop Dean from giving himself to Michael even if it meant losing Sam AND Jack

- 13x23: Cas sitting alone in the bum jet with tears in his eyes after Dean left

- 14x1: Demon: “How is it you lost Dean. I thought you two were joined at the... everything.”

- 14x1: Dean trying to save Cas from Lucifer then vs Cas trying to save Dean from Michael now

- 14x3: The look that Dean and Cas give each other when Dean comes home.

- 14x9: Cas almost being happy seeing Dean happy. And then having to force himself to not be happy so he doesn’t die.

- 14x12: Cas being phased at Dean for wanting to put himself in the box with Michael forever

- 14x14: Cas is the only Dean will let talk to him about Michael and be honest about how Dean feels

- 14x14: “No, it’s on us.”

- 14x14: Cas’s voice breaking when he talks about the possibility of Dean dying one day.

- 14x18: The pure self loathing in Cas’s eyes when he feels like he failed Dean by not telling him about Jack’s soul.

- 15x2: “You asked ‘what about all of this is real?’ We are.” THE MOST ROMANTIC LINE EVER. (Plus later Eileen and Sam have the same conversation but they get to kiss because homophobia)

- 15x9- 20:00 Dean said that they lost everyone they cared about, then added Cas specifically. Then he says “I had to bury him” not “we”

- 15x9- 23:00 Dean cries when he can’t find Cas. Then he prays to him and apologizes for letting him go. He falls to his knees praying to him and fully crying

- 15x12: “I created the world.” *shows Destiel*

- 15x15: This time when Dean sees Cas leaving the bunker, he stops him. (In reference to Cas saying “you didn’t stop me” when Dean got mad at him for leaving)

- 15x16: This is the the only version of Cas that rebelled for Dean. This universe is literally being saved repeatedly because of Cas’s love for Dean

- 15x18: CAS CONFESSES HIS LOVE TO DEAN then goes to mega hell for being gay

Anyway, Cas loves Dean and Dean LOVES HIM BACK, OKAY?!?!? Feel free to add more

#spn #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #supernatural #deancas #spn season 15 #spndaily #superwholock #sam winchester #jack kline #jack winchester #carry on #despair #spn 15x19 #spn 15x18 #spn season 4 #spn season 5 #spn season 6 #mega hell #gay #husbands #listen they’re married #they gotta bring my boy back #please #I will fist fight andrew dabb in a Denny’s parking lot

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 127: Fake Dating

"It's just annoying," Draco continued as he and Harry packed up for the night. "Literally every single party or brunch, I am hounded about when I'll start dating someone." He slammed his desk drawer closed, "I'm a bloody auror! I haven't got time to date anyone," he groaned. "And now I have this party tonight and I just know-"

"I'll go with you," Harry offered.

He broke off and stared at the other man. "What?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a shrug, "I'll go and be your pretend boyfriend, it would be easy to fake that we're dating since we already know everything about each other."

"But," he started, tilting his head at the other man, "Then people will think we're dating."

"I thought that was the point?"

He stared at Harry, waiting for it to click. When no click was forthcoming he said "but then people would think you're dating me."

"Am I missing something here?"

He rolled his eyes, "I don't think you quite understand what dating me entails."

"Ah, need to be pampered, darling? Wined and dined? Roses on Tuesday and dinner on Friday nights? I could bring you coffee in the morning-"

"I- What?" Draco spluttered. "No! No. Merlin, that's not what I'm saying, although, yes if we're being honest I want to be absolutely doted upon," he added.

"Obviously."

"Wait," he said, shaking his head to clear it, "You're missing the fucking point."

(Read more below the cut)

"Sorry," Harry said, smirking at him and not looking sorry at all, "What's the point?"

"The point," Draco said, poking him in the chest, "Is that dating me is not a pleasant experience."

"Oh come on," Harry teased, "You're not that bad."

"I am a fucking delight," he replied, exasperated, "I am saying that the press will make your life hell."

"Ah," he said, nodding, "I have no idea what dealing with the press is like."

"The press has been kind to you for at least the past decade because of the whole saving the world nonsense," Draco replied as he opened the door and held it open for Harry.

"Except for the lurid months after I came out and all sorts of lies were spread about me," Harry replied wryly.

He shook his head and headed toward the floos, "Even those were mostly flattering," he added with a lewd glance.

Harry laughed, "Whatever. My point," he said, poking him in the shoulder, "is that I'm not afraid of the press." He bumped his shoulder against Draco's, "Come on. What have you got to lose?"

"Fine," he huffed but his stomach was silently doing back flips while his heart did a complicated tap routine in his chest. "Meet me at the Screaming Goblin at 7:00pm sharp." He stepped toward the floo and turned, "Don't dress like a homeless person," he added before stepping into the floo.

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

Harry did not dress like a homeless person. In fact it was quite the opposite.

Harry looked fucking hot.

He was wearing tight dark-wash jeans and a lightweight jumper that hugged his body, making his strong, broad shoulders look even broader and his trim waist even narrowed. He'd done his hair, putting enough product in his curls to make them look artfully tousled and not a mess. And he'd arrived before Draco but instead of waiting, he'd gone in and bought Draco's friends a round and was sitting and yammering away at them.

As Draco approached, Harry turned his head and gave him a wide grin, "Hey, babe," he said, standing up and pulling out Draco's chair for him.

"Hi," he said weakly.

Harry pressed a kiss to his temple and a thrill shot through Draco's body as his brain went pleasantly fuzzy.

And thank Merlin for Harry because Draco hardly answered a question all night, hardly even heard a question all night because he was too busy focusing on the way it felt to have Harry's fingers trailing through the hair at the base of his skull. Harry talked and laughed with Draco's friends like they'd all been friends for ages as he sat with his arm resting on the back of Draco's chair.

When it was time to go, Harry helped Draco into his coat and bid all of the former Slytherins goodbye as he wrapped his arm through Draco's.

The bar wasn't far from Draco's but still Harry murmured, "Can I walk you?"

And Draco found himself charmed into saying yes.

Harry hummed, quiet now that all of Draco's friends were gone, but he still kept his arm looped through Draco's as they walked. When they arrived at Draco's front door Harry asked, "Everything alright?"

Draco's eyes snapped to his and he nodded, "I just can't believe how well they took to you."

He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and grinned up at Draco from the bottom step, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Well, I can be very charming, what can I say?"

"It's a little strange-" Draco started but Harry leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Draco's mouth and every word that Draco knew disappeared.

"Don't overthink it," he said with a wink. Then he turned and started off down the sidewalk calling, "See you tomorrow," over his shoulder.

Draco was half way to bed before he realized that there was no one watching when Harry kissed him on his door step.

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

They spent the next two weeks fake dating and it was the best dating experience Draco had ever had. Harry was sweet and doting, just like Draco had said he wanted and Draco enjoyed that thoroughly.

But what he hadn't expected enjoying as much as he did was being good to Harry in return. While Draco loved to be praised and brought little treats, Harry loved to be touched. He melted when Draco ran his fingers through his hair; when Draco held his hand, he got a huge dopey grin on his face that took hours to disappear; and even a casual touch, fingers trailing over the small of his back when Draco walked by, made his lips twitch up as he leaned into the touch.

Draco was quickly, and disconcertingly, becoming addicted to those smiles.

Smiles were in short supply that day, though. The case they'd worked had been tough. Harry was scowling at the folder splayed out in front of him, his jaw clenched as he filled in paperwork.

"Hey," Draco murmured as he slipped behind him and slowly rubbed Harry's shoulders.

Harry dropped his quill and leaned back into the touch, "Hey," he murmured, closing his eyes.

"Alright?" Draco asked.

He nodded, "I just hate the ones with kids."

"They're going to be alright, though," he said.

"Yeah," he agreed, "But it just brings up bad memories." He shook his head and covered Draco's hand with his own. "Want to get out of here?"

"What did you have in mind?" he asked as he combed his fingers through Harry's soft curls.

Harry tipped his head back to look up at Draco, "this is nice," he said softly. "Want to go back to mine and I'll make you dinner? Then I'll lay with my head on your lap and you can stroke my hair?" he asked wistfully and Draco's heart stuttered in his chest.

"That sounds an awful lot like dating."

"Yeah," Harry affirmed.

"But there's no one there-"

Harry pulled away, breaking Draco's contact with him, "You're right," he said, nodding as he stood up and started shoving files into his bag. "Forget it."

"Harry-"

"No, it's fine," he said, giving him a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You're right. I'm just," he shrugged helplessly. "Forget it," he repeated as he grabbed his bag and headed to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

"But-" Draco started before realizing it was useless because Harry was gone. He packed up his things and headed home, this was what he should have been worried about; pretending to be dating had been a terrible idea.

When he got home he flooed Pansy and told her everything. "And now I don't know what to do," he finished, imaging Harry at home all alone make dinner.

"You're such an idiot," Pansy groaned.

"Excuse me?"

She rolled her eyes. "You do know that we all knew you thought it was fake, don't you."

"What?"

"We all knew. Potter told us that first night when we met up for drinks," she said.

He frowned, "Why? Why would he say that? And why haven't you said anything?"

"Because he asked us not to. He said he was really into you, or whatever," she said flippantly, "And that he thought he could win you over by showing you how great dating him could be. He begged us to play along."

He stared at her, mouth open, "He feels the same?" he breathed.

"Yeah," she said. "Obviously."

"I've got to go," he said, abruptly ending the call so he could floo to Harry's flat.

He stumbled out of the floo and immediately called for the other man, "Harry!" he shouted, heading toward the kitchen. "Harry!"

The other man's head appeared outside of the kitchen doorway, "Draco?" he asked as though he couldn't believe his ears.

Draco took one look at him and then closed the gap between them in three steps before wrapping his arms around him and kissing him.

Harry dropped whatever he'd been holding and it shattered at their feet but Draco didn't care because he was kissing Harry Potter and that was all that mattered at the moment. He poured his heart and soul into the kiss and Harry met him with the same.

"Me too," he gasped when he pulled back.

"What?" Harry asked, looking a bit dazed and Draco could hardly blame him.

"I'm into you too," he said. "Or whatever you said to Pansy that first night."

"I told them I was in love with you," he confessed. "You still want to own that?"

He nodded and threw himself at Harry again, kissing him and wrapping his arms tight around his neck.

The next time they parted Harry asked hopefully, "So, do you want to stay for dinner?"

"How about I stay forever?" he asked, grinning wide at the other man.

He nodded, "Even better."

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

Day 126: Arranged Marriage | Day 128: Snake

#drarry #100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #one year of drarry drabbles #drarry ficlet #drarry drabbles #fake dating #falling in love #I never feel like I can do stories like this justice in just one little ficlet #oh well #I hope you enjoy! #Thanks for the prompt #oblivious draco #boys in love

[honeypiehotchner]

My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end 

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x soulmate!reader #tom hiddleston soulmate au #soulmate au #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #completely self indulgent #as always

[ekaterinatepes]

Nothing but the Best

Author’s note: it’s getting interesting here ;) enter prince charming Sugu-kun to save the day.

IX.

https://youtu.be/uhoiqVPmURE

Satoru was afraid of making a move, least he tipped you over the edge and made you bolt; he didn’t want that. Swallowing hard he looked into your eyes… God… he had missed your beautiful E/C eyes so much. Waking up every morning without you by his side, without you kissing him awake cause he was going to be late for work… again. Your absence had left a literal infinite void in his heart that he was unable to fill.

“I know I don’t deserve anything from you Y/N, but I love you and I cannot give up on us… We said forever when we got married. And I want that… with you” speaking from the heart was not something Satoru ever did. He always preferred to cover any emotions with inappropriate jokes and double entendres. But he knew he couldn’t play his stupid games, not with you and most certainly not now.

You pulled away in that moment, as if his touch was burning you. He allowed it, doing his utmost effort not to pull you back in. His hands itched resting at his sides, missing the warmth of your body.

|||

It was you and me, it seemed to last forever

The way you taste and I still remember… the sounds we made.

|||

“It would have been nice if you felt that way before you decided to ruin this marriage. Where were those promises of forever when you fucked someone else?” You asked piercing his eyes with yours. He cowered under your glare. Satoru had never been on the receiving end of your wrath and now he understood why most people chose (wisely) to not mess with you. Every single one of your words was chosen carefully to cause the most damage. At the same time… what hurt the most was that you were right.

“Leave and don’t ever come back… you and I… are through…” Satoru noticed how you avoided calling him by his name, he hated it. As if uttering his name would leave a bad taste in your mouth “Y/N…” he whispered pleadingly when you took another step away. But this time he didn’t have the courage to stop you as you disappeared inside your apartment and locked the door behind you.

|||

I bet you wish you had me back! Another chance to gain it, just like that. The best you ever had.

|||

Satoru was fucked.

—————

The next morning Suguru’s plane landed. JFK international airport was as busy and chaotic as one would expect. After collecting his luggage he made his way to a cab giving the driver your current address.

He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink during the trip, his mind swarmed with all the possibilities of what could be happening right now. Satoru didn’t play fair and of course… you loved (probably still love) the lucky bastard.

With a sigh he decided to focus instead on the city going by through the cab’s windows. It wasn’t the first time he was in New York and his mind was much more occupied torturing him instead of appreciating the landscape.

After 40 minutes, Geto stood before a very nice and modern building located in the upper east side called Hawthorn Park. You sure knew how to live in luxury. He approached the doorman and let him know his name and that he was here to see Miss Ekaterina Petrova to which the kind looking old man responded by using his intercom to contact you. Geto was soon granted access and guided to the elevator.

The elevator doors opened on the 21st floor, he walked to the door of your apartment which was already open and you were waiting for him. His smile fell once he noticed you have been crying “oh Kitten” dropping his luggage on the spot he surrounded your body in his arms “I’m so sorry…” one didn’t need to be a genius to know Satoru had found you.

You both moved inside your apartment. Settling on the spacious couch you buried your face on Suguru’s lap as you cried. He stroked your now darker strands of h/c hair without a word exchanged. He knew you needed to let it all out. After what seemed an eternity you sat back up. Suguru gently dried your eyes.

“He was here last night…” you whispered in a raw and scratchy voice, result of your endless hours of distress before his arrival “he told me he loved me, that he left Sookie” scoff “and hear this… he left her because the baby wasn’t his!” Talk about karma at its best. Suguru already knew that but he was surprised to hear Satoru had come clean about it to you “He probably thought I would fall for that! But I didn’t” you added firmly.

Suguru was proud of you. He knew how hard it was for you to resist Satoru but you stood tall and proud when it mattered the most. “What do you want to do now?” Where you planning on moving again?

-

“I’m not leaving…” you said looking into Suguru’s liquid amber gaze. You couldn’t help but notice once again he had such pretty eyes, like a cat. You’ve always liked them, specially when they looked at you with such tenderness. You have missed him dearly during all this time.

“I can’t keep running away from him; I mean… it’s obvious he won’t stop and I… I am tired of molding my life to adapt to his whims. I’m staying here whatever happens. Sugu… I got the part for the Swan Lake!” You added remembering you haven’t talked to him during the last week and so he didn’t know about your latest accomplishment.

Geto’s eyes enlarged before a huge smile split his handsome face and his massive frame engulfed you in a tight hug. Of course he knew everything about ballet, he was your best friend after all. This was huge! Probably as big as making it in the ballet world meant “I’m so proud of you Kitten!” He said excitedly kissing your temple. Maybe not everything was as bad as he thought.

You were upset, it was true. But then again you were not prepared last night. Satoru had taken you by surprise. Now… you knew he was here and more or less knew what to expect from your soon to be ex-husband.

“Thank you Sugu…” you stopped and pulled back just slightly to look into his eyes from your height. He was a very tall man compared to you “I missed you” you said with a bright smile to which Geto replied with one of his own before pulling you in again for another hug “I missed you too Kitten” stroking your back softly Suguru decided he was happy to be here… with you.

-

https://youtu.be/3oSXqLgoSq4

|||

She's given up, been holding on for way too long

She's had enough

He's coming home again

But it's too late 'cause she won't stay with him

|||

The sunshine hitting his face was what woke him up. With a grunt Satoru rolled over on his side only to fall unceremoniously from the couch where he had passed out last night. The last thing he remembered was warping back to his hotel after you left him on the roof. The memory of you, turning your back on him and walking away squeezed his heart in a painful grasp.

Alcohol was never something he was attracted to, he liked to keep his brain constantly alert and stimulated. It served a purpose of course, it kept his infinity barrier on at all times, even when he was asleep. But last night he hit rock bottom. He didn’t care anymore…

As soon as he got back to the hotel, hopelessness made a home in his chest, sitting heavy on his heart. Walking to the fully stocked bar placed on the corner of his suite he opened a bottle of whiskey. He started slow since most everything was too bitter for his taste, so he went through the process of trying every single bottle until he found something to his liking.

Two hours and about fifteen different shots of everything he decided to settle for a bottle of Amaretto, some fancy Italian liquor made of apricot kernels. It was sweet.

Everything else after that was blur. Moving his sore body from the floor he forced himself to go to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help ease his misery. Peeling off his clothes the smell of booze clinging on them made Gojo cringe. He decided to brush his teeth before showering. Looking in the mirror he couldn’t recognize the man starring back at him. He was a mess.

|||

Are we just ghosts out in the night?

Are we just waiting for a light that doesn't shine?

Are we just faking or is this real?

'Cause I don't know how to feel

Are we just ghosts now, you and I?

|||

Last night he had been so desperate, so hopeless and broken hearted. That’s when it hit him… his wife didn’t hurt him, she didn’t cheat on him (unlike himself), she didn’t do anything to him and yet he was feeling as if the world was collapsing around him. He lied, cheated and fucked up everything for them both.

Guilt…

Unadulterated, burning and suffocating guilt was consuming him. He felt bad before but it wasn’t until last night that he grasped the concept that Y/N didn’t owe him anything at all and that HE didn’t deserve it anyways.

The plan originally had been to get back in your good graces by doing penitence, submitting to your every whim and desire by becoming your devoted slave for as long as you would have it. He never even considered the possibility that his wife DID NOT WANT to forgive him in the first place.

He thought you left to give him a lesson, that you would eventually come back to him after he had a taste of what it was like to lose you.

But even after you both shared such a searing kiss, so passionate that every cell in his body was humming, aflame with desire you still managed to walk away from him as if it meant nothing to you.

What good did it do to him to be the strongest when he couldn’t even protect his wife… from himself.

After showering, changing clothes and ordering every sweet pastry and desert from the room service menu Gojo stopped to rethink his strategy.

What?…

Did you think he was going to stop there?

Absolutely no, love!

If anything, your rejection had only fueled his need to get you back.

“Time for plan B” sighing he pulled out his phone it rang a couple times before someone answered “good morning Mrs. Mazzo, this is Gojo Satoru. I’m going to need you to forward to me Miss Petrova’s rehearsal schedule…”

—

“This is really good!” You hummed happily after swallowing a bite of your steak. Suguru sat across from you at Keens Steakhouse, with a grin he watched as you indulged yourself in what you called your ‘cheat meal’ of the month. Being a professional ballerina was a tough and demanding commitment that controlled every aspect of your life, from how you train to what you eat. Despite it all, Geto knew you always found a happy balance that worked just fine for you.

Seeing your big smile made his heart jump in his chest, you were as beautiful and alluring as the day he met you. If only he had told you he liked you before Satoru did. This question kept him up at night, playing all sorts of scenarios in his mind. If he had taken the first step… would things have been different? Would you have ended up together? Married? Shaking his head he tried to focus on what you were actually saying. Deviating his thoughts to that kind of scenarios was dangerous. He also didn’t want to push it when he was perfectly aware you were still healing; he wasn’t a low life piece of shit to take advantage of your vulnerability.

But when you smiles at him as if he was the only thing in your world, when you held his hand across the table, playing with his finger, his throat felt dry and tight.

“What do you think Sugu?” Your curious and expecting eyes caught him like a deer in the headlights “I’m sorry Kitten, I was distracted. Could you repeat that please?” He asked with an affable smile.

You chuckled and stroke his hand softly “you look tired, did you sleep at all in the plane?” He shook his head “no, I didn’t. I never can, it’s uncomfortable” he hid on purpose the true reason why he hadn’t been able to sleep “come on Sugu! Let’s go back home! I bet you are tired” you said offering him a sweet smile.

After paying your bill you walked the few blocks back home. Suguru of course would be staying with you in the spare room of your penthouse. Holding hands while you talked to him about the activities the city had to offer, your schedule and how you intended to fit the time to do some tourism with him. “You don’t have to bother Kitten, I know you are busy enough with your job, I will be fine” he insisted.

You stopped on your tracks and stood in front of him, pouting, making him chuckle. You looked every bit the kitten he knew you to be, all bothered and moody “no! I want to spend time with you too you know! I haven’t seen you in so long! I’m not going to waste this chance!” You insisted to which Suguru threw his hands up in the air “I surrender Kitten! Do with me as you will” you giggled and then blushed. “Uh… eh… ok! I will!” He took your hand again and you both resumed your walk.

-

Satoru warped to the roof top of the building adjacent to yours, the lights were out in your apartment and he couldn’t sense your presence inside. You left? Where did you go?

Before a second though he warped inside your apartment but he saw all your stuff was still there, maybe you went out for groceries or something?

After a few minutes sitting on your couch he decided to wait for you on the street so he could see when you got home.

(Almost an hour later)

Oh… he wasn’t ready for what he saw.

“That mother fu….” Satoru grinds his teeth watching you walk down the street holding onto Suguru’s hand while talking distractedly. From his hiding spot in front of your building he closed his hands in a tight fist.

Well, this complicated things… a lot more.

————-> Chapter 10

———————————-

@sleepyamaya

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@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

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@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

#jjk #jjk Gojo #Gojo Satoru #gojo #Satoru #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo saturo x reader #geto smut #geto x y/n #geto suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x y/n #Youtube

[extravaguk]

sweets&ink

part of my opposites attract! series. 

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / pjm / kth 

pairing: tattooartist&tattoed!jungkook x baker!reader

summary: jungkook was everything you feared but exactly what you needed to heal your broken heart.

wordcount: 5k

genre: fluff - angst - smut (s2l!au)

rated: m (?

warnings: some cursing, mentions of past abusive/toxic relationships/trauma that might be triggering, a lil of making love at the end. it’s overall just suuper fluffy, trust me. jungkook is a s i m p. we love that for him! slow burrrnnnn.  

Jungkook knows it was love at first sight, but doesn's know how to really explain it.

He knew from the moment he entered the small shop, pastel green walls welcoming him  replete of sugary treats, a sweet and heavenly scent engulfing him as soon as he stepped a foot inside.  With a new found sense of calmness and serenity within he hadn't experienced in a long time, he searched for deserts of his liking, mouth watering while assessing the many options of baked goods available and bright colored frostings stealing his attention.

"Hi. How may I help you?"

Then he looked up and found you. It wasn't easy to appreciate your whole appearence with the counter hiding the lower half of your body, but it was enough for Jungkook to think to himself that he had never seen a prettier girl in hiis entire life. And that's when he knew it. Any type of movement in his surroundings coming to a halt, his heart skipping a beat, his favourite song playing inside his head. And that particular sensation. The same one that had made him feel so at ease since he found your bakery. For a moment he thought his doe eyes might have actually turned into heart eyes until you raised your eyebrows, a concerned expression replacing your previous warm smile. 

Blinking his eyes and clearing his throat, coming down from cloud nine into the real world, he stuttered his order as best as he coud manage, heart pounding inside his chest and later feeling mortified for not being able to pronounce "gingernap cookies" correctly. 

At first he kind of hated Seokjin for blackmailing him into going to his favourite bakery to buy his favourite cookies (Jungkook really should've known better than accidentally spill ink all over Jin's new script), but when he comes back home with a goofy smile on his face and dreams of your face, he makes sure to text him he'll go get his cookies anytime he wants.

But Jungkook is a masochist apparently. 

Because a week after your first encounter he realizes that not being able to get his mind off a girl he's literally only seen once in his entire life is not exactly normal. Not for anyone, but especially not for him. Realizes that the way he embarrassed himself in front of you and probably looked like a bluberring mess (or a creepy weirdo who had never interacted with any woman before) is not reason enough to not keep wanting to try again. And the way you just giggled at him and simply shook your head as you wrapped the ginger cookies he had asked for in a pretty packaging has kept him aching for more. 

So he comes once a week now. Still as nervous as the first day, but content to see that your face seems to light up at the sight of him stepping through the door the same way his does. He likes to see you in your cute pastel dresses, and if he didn't know better he'd think you were just trying to keep up with the bakery's aesthetic. But the more he frequents your shop, the more he realizes you're exactly like the treats you bake. He likes how your vividly honeyed persona contrasts with his darker and reserved one. Likes how you're all colors of the rainbow and he's just a scale of greys.

They are small interactions. Just courtesy and cordial exchange of words everytime he visits. He doesn't even know your name and you don't even know his, but sometimes he asks how was your weekend and sometimes you ask how many people had he inked that week. Sometimes he tells you how pretty you look, and sometimes you blush in response. Sometimes you add an extra macaron in his order and sometimes he debates on whether or not he should write down his number on a napkin and slide in right on the countertop before he waves goodbye. 

And although Jungkook has never been one to shy away from women, he feels a certain way he can't exactly pinpoint. A way that makes his confidence falter and leaves him feeling like a little kid who's afraid to confess to the girl he likes. Because as cliché as it sounds, you're not like any other girls he's ever met. You don't feel like any other girl he's ever met. Not the older than him, tattoed and pierced type of girl he's accustomed to; not the type of girl that's addicted to trouble and believe him (maybe even hoped) to be something he's not. So it takes a while for him to summon up enough bravery and determination. It takes weeks of pining and overthinking, and a single push from Yoongi ('stop being a fucking pussy and just do it') to ask you to have coffee with him.

"I... I'm sorry. I can't."

And it only takes those words leaving your mouth to shatter his heart into pieces. 

 It's fine though, he told you and himself. He wasn't going to be one of those guys who believed the 'friendzone' was an actual thing and tried his best to not make you feel uncomfortable, really tried his best to erase the guilt across your face as you rejected him.  So he scratched the back of his head and mustered up a big smile before leaving the shop with a bag full of cupcakes and an unsettled stomach.

Letting out a deep breath you didn't even know you were containing, you observe as the handsome stranger exits the shop. Running a hand through your hair before gripping the counter with your hands, you try to steady the heavy throbbing insde your chest. 

The boy in question had been unknowingly tormenting you and flooding your mind with thoughts of him for almost two months now. That day you first had spotted him eyeing the desserts in display in amazement and then you in the very same way. It was sudden and precipitated, but it had almost made your head spin, something you hadn't felt in a long time unexplainable tugging at your insides. 

You had kept your cool as best as you could, as best as you had taught yourself in the past. Wrapped those cookies he had asked and then waved goodbye, hoping under your breath he wouldn't come back but silently wishind he would. But then he did. He came back once. And then again. And again, and before you realized he had become a frequent costumer. Trying whatever treats you'd recommended him, creating small talk, sending friendly smiles here and then. 

You had learned to expect him at the very same time, the very same day of the week; had learned to manage the fluttering in your tummy and the reddish warmth spreading through your cheeks whenever the eye contact was prolongued. Everything was innocent, it was brief and, most importanly, it never went beyond, even if sometimes you hoped it did.

However, after all these years, there was still something you hadn't learned to control yet. And as he spoke, clearly nervous, hesitant and clearly out of his comfort zone, wondering out loud if he could ever treat you to a coffee sometime, your body shut down. The fondness and excitement you had been harboring over the last few weeks quickly replaced by that which made you want to recoil, made you want to back to your well to let its darkness and loneliness envelop you.

That horrible and ugly wave of crippling fear and axiety all mixed together; a little monster that you had successfully concealed, now displaying its ears in warning and the same smile that had been haunting you for years, now advising you, reminding you and most of all, threatening you, to go back to your own comfort zone. And so, powerless, there was nothing else you could really to but to comply, muttering an apology and a rejection that probably pained you more than it pained the boy in front of you.

You knew you did the right thing, but it definitely didn't feel like it. 

Especially a week later, as you expected his arrival- as always, ready with a tray full of fresh baked scones you had particularly made just for him, but were left severely disappointed when time passed and he was nowhere to be seen. Or two weeks later, after spending an extra hour making cake pops that you had specifically designed with him in mind (covered in dark chocolate and white sprinkles), only to realize it was closing time and that he never even showed up.

 To say you were bummed was an understatement. You knew you always looked forward to him coming in every week to grace your day with a smile and a polite talk, but you didn't come to terms with how much you would miss it until now. So three weeks later, you still bake with him in mind, trying not to lose hope but still chastising yourself for not being brave enough and accepting his offer. It was just a coffee date, for God's sake, not a marriage proposal! Trying to busy your mind with work and customers coming in and out, even if your eyes dart in anticipation everytime you hear the door swinging. 

When hours pass and the sun hides to make room for the moon and stars into the sky, you look at the clock and, with a defeated sigh, finish cleaning and tidying around the shop. But before you can gather your things, the door swings open and there stands the stranger you had been praying to see again. 

"Am I too late?" he asks, and you don't exactly know but can tell his words hold a double meaning. You smile, a genuine smile, because he looks bashful with a hand scratching the back of his head like he had done the last time you saw him, and because there's a warm sensation spreading through your chest, like your heart is smiling for you. 

"I was about to close, but I can make an exception." you accomplish to say and surprisingly don't sound as nervous as you feel. He mirrors your smile as he walks closer to the counter. "So, what would you like?" 

That takes him by surprise because he really had nothing in mind when he decided to come here and now he feels like an idiot. 

"Uh, um... I would like... maybe cupcakes?" he sounds like an idiot too. But you nod and smile at him and start gathering his cupcakes into a polka dot cardboard box.

"You missed the cake pops I made last week." you say, trying to keep your voice in check as he hands you his credit car. "I think you would've liked them."

"Ah, sorry... Work has been really hectic." and even if it's true, it's also true the fact that he chickened out and was frightened to face you again. He likes how even when you're alluding to his absence, there's not a malicious tone behind your words. He likes how you're still smiling at him even after he's been acting like a pussy for two weeks. But that's why he's here. "I also would like to apologize for... you know. I didn't-...If I made you feel uncomfortable, I'm really sorry."

With your eyebrows raised, your smile dissipates. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong, really. It's not- It's not that. I just...can't." you stumble through words, trying to explain how much you actually wanted to go to that coffee date, to get to know his name and more of himself, but unavailable to. You can feel it again. The same anguish that always seem to creep up on you and numbs you altogheter. But him, worriedly sensing your distress, waves his hands in front of him.

"No, no. It's fine, you don't have to explain anything! It's alright!" his smile seems to soothe you and you return his smile in gratitude. "Anyways, I'll... I'll get going. See you next week?"

You nod, anticipation already making its way into you. "See you next week." and then he takes the box filled with cupcakes and says goodbye. Before he can open the door though, a tingle of impulsivity and fearlesness makes you say:

"I'm _____, by the way."

He pauses, clearly taken aback.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook hasn't stopped repeating your name in his head ever since you gave it to him, grinning like a fool and thinking about how good it sounds next to his. He hasn't stopped frequenting your bakery either and has lost count on how much money he's spent on muffins and whatever else you sell. He doesn't care though. All he cares about is how much likes seeing you even if it's only for fifteen minutes in your floral dresses, and as long as you keep looking like you're glad to see him every time, then he's fine. 

He's more than fine. He feels amazing. Sings tunes while he works on customers, feels his creativity flowing more than ever and he feels whole. It still baffles him how a minimun interaction with you once a week can make him feel on top of the world. 

He's got a bouquet of white and pink lillies next time he visits, so sappy and romantic he doesn't even recognize himself. He doesn't tell you he googled their meaning and his mind instantly associated them with you. Purity is exactly what he thinks of you and admiration is exactly how he feels about you. Hands it to you and the surprised look on your face and the spreading of pink all over your cheeks makes his heart burst. You thank him and he tells you he didn't know what your favourite flower is. You answer it's carnations. He writes it down somewhere in his mind, for next time. And then you're the one surprising him.

"Would you like to have coffee sometime?" 

There's uncertainty in your voice that doesn't go unnoticed by him, and for a moment he thinks he's dreaming. He's cool with what he's got right now with you, but you repeating his words back to him makes him feel euphoric, like he can't believe it. He knows he looks dumb, the way he's looking at you. 

Completely dumbfounded. He stutters like the first same he met you, but he says yes (omits the part where he tells you he could almost die). You exchange number in each other's phones with shaky hands, set the day and hour, and then wave each other goodbye. 

You instantly regret it as you watch him leave. Keep regretting it the following days. That voice in your head telling you 'it'll happen again', telling you fairytales didn't exist and this most likely wasn't one, even if it felt like it was, suffocating you like it had done many times before. Screwing with your head until you consider canceling. 

But you power through it, like you had taught yourself to do. This time it's harder though. Because this time there's a new romantic interest at hand, one that's making you feel things you buried a long time ago and made you swear to yourself you'd be smarter and stronger than any man could. 

It's Hoseok's encouraging words that help ease the panic. It was also Hoseok's words who encouraged you to ask Jungkook out. Said you deserved something good for once and that you couldn't close yourself to love your entire life. 

Thought it was time for you to write a new chapter after a rather sad one. 

So on Saturday, Jungkook insists on picking you up and it already feels like too much for you. Especially when he shows up with a bouquet of carnations in his hand and a smile that takes your breath away and definitely doesn't help to ease your nerves. 

Takes him by surprised how pretty you look.  maybe because it's the first time he's seen you out of your shop and even though you're still loyal to your clothing style, he still fumbles with his words like an idiot to try to express how beautiful you look. Seeing he's as much of a mess as you settles you a little bit. Then he takes you to a cute café that almost makes you laugh, because seeing him, inked arms and piercings and a closet that consisted mainly of black oversized t-shirts and pants in such a bright environment reminds you of the first time he entered your shop. 

You're surprised to see how well the conversation rolls, how easy it is to talk to him beyond the usual brief interactions you two have. You like how he makes you laugh and how he seems to love hearing it. You like how his attention is solely focused on you, even if his gaze on yours sometimes feels too intense and his overall character intimidates you. You like how soft spoken he is, how careful he is with words and the sound of his voice. Sounds like a lullaby without melody. 

And when the date is over, he drives you home, walks you to your door and respectfully wishes you a good night. You kiss him on the cheek spontaniously before hiding the embarrassment on your face and stepping inside your home. You miss the way he stays at your doorstep for a whole minute before getting in his car and driving himself home. You also miss how peacefully he sleeps that night, dreaming of cupcakes and you. You don't miss the heart emoji he sends you before going to bed, making yours quiver.

You're glad you didn't cancel, and now you're sure you don't regret it at all

It goes on. The dates, getting to know each other more and more, Jungkook's visits to your shop and spending way too much money on sweets and carnations, the butterflies in your stomach everytime he's near and the birth of something inside of you that's starting to make you feel alive after feeling dead for so long. 

It's still new, still wholesome, moves in slow motion. You're glad Jungkook doesn't push, doesn't ask for anything, never demands more than a kiss on the cheek everytime he drops you off. He is nothing like he looks like, you realized that right away.

But with every brand new beginning that requires feelings like this, especially as unique and exceptional as the ones Jungkook is causing within you, comes the evil monster trying to scare you off, to make you back off and remind you that not everything that shines is gold. The voice inside your head that keeps bewitching you back into a dark room, reminder in your head everytime that one day Jungkook will want more. He'll want more and you might not be ready to give it to him. 

A voice that keeps resonating and has kept you unmoving for the past few years and now is making you feel more frightened than ever. 

You've been more quite than usual and Jungkook can tell something is not quite right. It's a friday night, and after having dinner that he insisted on paying, he decided this time to drive you away, to a secluded space somewhere where you both can appreciate the city lights on the hood of his car. He can tell, so he asks you, but you give a vague answer. He wants to ask again, but he's afraid of overstepping your boundaries. He wants to get to know you in every level, want's to scratch the surface until he can see everything. He wants to learn you inch by inch. Wants to love every part you bare to him, because he's sure he will. 

"My ex partner was abusive."

You finally say with a voice that's not entirely yours, and it doesn't feel real. Doesn't feel real to say out loud and letting the words sink in. It's taken all this time of excusing behaviors that were not excusable, trying to make light of a situation that wasn't and blaming yourself for things that you were not to blame for. Jungkook stays silent, but his attention immediately focused on you as soon as you spoke. Eyes slightly wide and mouth starting to open as if to speak himself. But you go on.

"Not physically." you swallow a lump in your throat. "Sometimes he would throw things at me, but they didn't always land. Or... one time he pushed me while we were arguing. Never raised his hand at me though. It was mostly psychological and emotional. He was extremely jealous and possesive. Didn't like me hanging with my friends, would never bring me to hang out with him and his friends. Though I' was cheating on him with anyone. The cashier at the supermarket, a randome dude on the street that simply looked at me. Anyone." tears prickle your eyes, but you'd learned to hold them back.

"He would always get mad at me. Would already wake up angry and take it out on me. Without reason. Would always blame me for everything. He would get mad, insult me, call me any terrible name you can imagine, tell me I wasn't worth shit. That I wasn’t worth living.Then he would punch the wall, or break whatever was in sight. Everytime, I told him I was terrified of him. Would cry in a corner and beg him to stop. Sometimes he would just laugh at me for it." you sniff, still looking straight at the city lights, and trying to keep a composed tone throughout. You had grown up a lot since then, and you knew Jungkook deserved to know you. He deserved to understand. 

"Then he would calm down, apologize while he cried and promised he loved me and would change. He never did. It took me a long time to finally walk away, but the demons still haunt me to this day. You," you choke, because comparing your ex to the guy currently sitting next to you was like day and night, like heaven and hell. "You make me feel things I've never felt before. I always felt like asking for respect was asking for too much. And then here you come, like a knight on shining armour ready to sweep me off my feet. It felt like a dream. Still does..."

Jungkook's hands are balled into tight fists, his whole body rigid as he listened to you. His own heart breaking, like he could feel himself inside you and experiencing your own heartbreak. His blood's boiling, jaw so tight and eyes blinking. Pushing down his anger, because this is about you not him, he lets his body relax before sliding your hand in yours. 

"I like you so much,_____, it literally kills me at night how much. Not as much as hearing all of this, though. From the moment I saw you, I was whipped. I wanted and still want to give everything I can to see that smile of yours. It's me the one who can't believe you're paying me any attention at all." you're still not looking at him, but he still sighs in relief when your lips quirk up. "Just having you here next to me and letting me take you out on dates is more than enough for me. Whatever you give me, whatever your terms are, I'm content with that. You're healing, and while you do, I'll be right here."

You look at him now, not bothering to hide the tears streaming down your face anymore.

"What if I never heal completely?" there's fear in your voice as your eyes meet his, but just the dark brown in his gaze help you feel secure, less worried about the future and more serene about the now.

"I'll still be here."

It doesn't take long for you to call it love.  

Not when Jungkook keeps proving himself to be so different and so special. Not when his gestures never cease to make you feel so special, so worthy of recieving and sharing love. Because Jungkook makes you feel invincible, makes you feel one in a million. 

"What to you even see in me? We're like, polar opposites." you ask him one day. And it's true, you are. So different from each other, yet the same. He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, still holding your hand in your doorstep about to kiss your cheek goodnight. 

"I see everything." he simply says, eyes boring into yours in adoration. "I see the sun, and the moon, the stars, the entire galaxy when I'm with you." your heart clenches as he interlaces his fingers with yours. "Before I met you, I felt like I was blind. Like I was lost and was looking for an exit that I couldn't find. But then I saw you, in your little bakery, with your cute dresses and those eyes, and it was like my eyes opened for the first time. Everything made sense. Everything has been filled with so many colors ever sinc-" 

You shut him with your lips on top of his, emotions pulling at your heartstrings the same way you pull him down by the neck. He takes a few seconds to respond, but then this hands are dropping to your waist, their warmth immediately spreading through your skin against the chilly night.

"Would you like to come in?" you whisper, breath fanning over his lips. He nods, hurriedly, and he knows he looks like a damn idiot for the hundredth time, but he doesn't care. Because coming in doesn't only mean stepping in your home. Coming in means you're letting him in. Means you trust him, means you want him there, means you're allowing him inside your heart. 

Again, Jungkook doesn't expect nor demands much. Your presence is everything he needs. You kissing him is like winning the lottery to him. Like completing a marathon, like climbing the Everest, like getting his first tattoo. Kissing you is sweet, fills him with something strong that makes him feel on drugs, like nothing matters but you and him. Like nothing has ever mattered to neither of you. 

So it's you who leads him to your room, it's you who straddles his thighs and pushes his hair back as his hands carress your sides. It's nothing fiery. It's slow, tentative, and full of care. Of lingering touches, low sighs against each other's mouths. 

It's you who reaches inside his shirt, hand sneaking past the hem of the fabric and trembling cold fingers coming in contact with firm skin. It's also you who asks for more with a small roll of your hips. It's you who asks him to take his shirt off. It's him who complies. Still tells you you don't have to, you tell him you want to. 

It's you who asks him to touch you. He's scared like he's never been, because you're you, and you're so perfect and everything he's ever wanted and suddenly he's afraid of you're too good for him. Jungkook only wants to make you happy, never wants to see you cry, just wants to treat you the way you deserve. 

It's you who begs.

It's you who tells him you need him. Need him take care of you, need him to show you much you're worth, need him to help you write a new chapter, probably even a new book where you're both the main characters and nobody else has ever existed. You say it with tears in your eyes, and he's quick to kiss them away, tongue entangling with yours. He's quick to undress you as well, with hands that still ask for permission even after you've granted it already. Hands and lips that are also quick and eager to learn your body, to find every mole in your skin as he lays you back to look at you in admiration. He keeps kissing you. From head to toe, muttering praise, making sure every 'beautiful' and 'gorgeous' and 'perfect' that leave his lips stay fire engraved in your being forever. 

He first makes you cum with careful fingers and skilled tongue, thighs wrapped aro around his head, eyes still looking for yours as his hands keep your body still and yours crumple the sheets beneath. Tells you how good you taste, how long he's been dying to have you like this. Tells you this you his favourite sight as he kisses his way up. 

You beg him again, asking him to please, please, fill you up. He groans against your mouth and he tells you again, you don't have to. He says he's happy like this. Repeats he's in no rush and just wants to please you and make you feel good. That it's about you, and will always be about you. You beg him again, and again and again, enticing him with a trail of wet kisses down his neck, up to his eralobe. You whisper there, tell him you need him to fill you with his cock so bad. His whole body goes rigid as your legs wrap around him, legs pulling him closer to where you want him, his erection grazing your entrance and his teeth nibble your lower lip. 

Jungkook doesn't move for a while, eyes closed shut, jaw clenched and head buried in your neck. He doesn't move because his mind is somewhere else keeping him stagnant, pussy wrapping around him so good and wet and tight he's about to bust. Takes a while for him to move, but when he does he makes sure to grip your thighs around him, keeping you close, never wanting to let go as he tells you you were made just for him. Just for him. Tells you how good you feel. He tells you he loves you. Kisses your lips as you sob, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He tells you he loves you. Tells you he'll love you forever and will always keep you safe and happy. 

You're crying now, cheeks wet and he stops for a moment to look at you, concern written all over his face as his hands craddle yours, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "We can stop, baby." You shake your head no. Pull him back into another kiss, urging him to go on. You tell him you love this, love him so much. That it's a good thing. That they are happy tears. That you've never been happier. And then his hips start moving again, your words egging him own, soft whimpers and sobs leaving each other's throats until you cum at the same time. 

He then removes himself from you, rolling onto your side but he's quick to pull your body close, arms wrapping around you and lips kissing away the wet stains on your cheeks. 

It doesn't take long for you to know Jungkook would be the healthy forever and after you had always dreamed of.

#THE FEEELS BRUH #aaaaaa #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts #jungkook fic

[bleach-story-time]

Games

Nanao is forced to play one of Captian Kyoraku's games.

It was a known fact that the Captain of Squad 8 liked to play games. In fact it was so much of a fact that his Shikai was literally a game in that of itself.

His favorite game to play was Hide-and-seek, and his favorite time to play it was during office hours.

Of course, the other person playing, his lieutenant Nanao Ise, was not as enthusiastic as he was when it came to his game. Mostly because it always took her away from her own work and she never knew they were playing until she had found him. Also did I mention that it always cut into her work which usually put them behind?

Mind you it wasnt as bad as being Squad 11 late. In fact Squad 11 late was an actual measurement of time. Like you were either going to be late or super late or Squad 11 late.

Today was different though and Nanao knee it was different because the office she shared with her Captian was already opened when she got there. Also it was wierd because said Captain was sitting at his desk with grin on his face.

"What did you do?" Nanao asked in a stern voice. Kyoraku never graced the Squad with his presence before 9am if at all.

"So mean Nanao-chan" he huffed without losing his smile. "You scold me when I'm late and you scold at me when I'm on time."

Nanao rolled her eyes, "please Sir, I have no time for games. The Quartely reports are due at the end of the week and I would rather not turn them in late again"

Kyoraku leaned forward so that his elbows were on his desk with his hands bridged together. His chin leaned in to rest atop his hands, "what reports?" He asked with a grin that would put even Gin Ichimaru to shame.

"The quarterly reports, the reports that my desk is buried under." Nanao snapped gesturing to her desk without looking were she was pointing.

Kyoraku leaned so he could look around her as though he actually needed to see her desk. He already knew the reports were gone. "Again I'll ask..." He started slowly standing up to his full height. If he was gonna make a quick escape he would need to be ready. "What reports?"

Nanao turned and the color drained from her face. The neat stacks of reports that she had organized yesterday were gone. Her desk was clean and even had a small vase with a pink flower in it.

The shock that ran through her quickly turned to anger. She was not playing this game, "CAPTAIN!" she snapped as the blue flame of an unspoken kido spell came to life in her hand.

Nanao turned ready to skin her captian. However, he was gone. Only a neatly folded origami crane sat on the desk. "I am going to find you" her voice dripped in venom as she threatened the empty room. "When I do I am going to skin you alive and use your blood to sign the rest of those forms"

With that she stormed out of the office barking at the third seat that he was in charge and if the Captain came back that they were to contact her immediately.

Enjoji did not have the guts to tell her that they had actually received orders from that Captain that they were not to report him to Nanao.

They would just let thier lieutenant figure that out herself.

Nanao stomped her way to Squad 13. If anyone knew what was going on it would be Ukitake. Before she eneter his office though she took a few deep breaths. No need to yell and scream at the good captian.

She knocked on the door maybe a little harder then necessary because a startled voice answered "come in"

"Excuse me me Captain Ukitake," Nanao started as she entered, "do you..." She stopped mid sentence and her eyes narrowed. Ukitake was sitting on one of the sofas in his office with two cups of tea. "He's here or was here wasn't he?"

Ukitake gave a strained laugh, "yes he was here but he was here much earlier in the day. " He said reaching over for the cup infront of him. Taking a quick sip he looked over at Nanao. "Shunsui said you would be coming here this morning so I thought it would be a nice to share a cup of tea with you."

Nanao would normally take him up on his offer. Ukitake always had the best tea, but she didn't have time today. "Sorry, but I must decline"

"Is it because of your missing paper work?" Ukitake interrupted her. "If it is I have a stack of your work on my desk."

Nanao's was quick to his desk and sure enough there was a neat stack of papers with the 8th insignia on it. Her mouth dropped a bit as she started to flip through the pages.

This stack was complete and ready to turn in.

"Shunsui asked if I could turn that in for him." Ukitake took another swig of his tea. "Come now and take a seat have some tea with me."

The anger Nanao had been feeling was slipping her like sand. Captain Kyoraku had done a full stack of reports for her. Of course it was just one stack there were still 6 or 7 more atacks that were missing.

"Please don't make me make it an order." Ukitake's voice sounded sad and Nanao gave a heavy sigh. There was no point fighting him now.

"Just one cup," she said placing the neat stack of papers back on the desk. She turned and joined Ukitake on the couch.

One cup turned to two and two turned into brunch. She enjoyed her time with the 13th Captain it was so easy to get lost in the moment with him. But her relaxing moment came to an end...

"Thank you for brunch Captian but I really have to get going." Nanao said placing her empty plate on the tray.

"Of course" Ukitake stood to walk her out. " before you go though Shunsui asked me to remind you that his physical is over due and he needs you to go by the 4th to buy some time."

Nanao groaned, she had been trying to get her Captian to the 4th for 3 weeks for his physical. However, he was a giant man child who didn't want to go because, and she quoted "they won't let me drink sake while I wait nor will they let me nap in the good beds."

"Thank you Captain Ukitake I'll head there now."

With a quick shunpo Nanao made it to the 4th quickly. She hoped she could get in and get out. Her luck was shot though.

Apparently all the members of Squad 11 seemed to be present at Squad 4. Kyoraku wasn't the only person who didn't like physicals.

Kenpachi was had a hold of Yachiru who's was struggling to get away. She was kicking and biting the barbarian Captian while Ikkaku and Yumichika danced around trying different things to calm her down.

The amount of spiritual pressure coming from the young lieutenant was almost suffocating. All the lower seat members of Squad 4 were on the floor or out cold unable to move.

Isane was trying her hardest to get as many vitals as she could without getting bit or kicked.

Nanao was about to try to help when Unohana exited a room a chart in her hands. "That is quite enough Yachiru." The 4th Captian said in her normal voice.

Tearful red eyes looked at her and it looked like she was about to go into another fit until Nanao popped up next to her. "Oh good afternoon Captian Kuchiki!" She called.

Yachiru quickly turned to where Nanao was looking and Isane saw her opening. Quickly she took the measurements she needed and with a swift stab she gave her the yearly booster.

Yachiru gave a loud yelp and rubbed her behind as she glared daggers at Isane.

With her check up complete Kenpachi tucked his lieutenant under his arm and made his exist.

"Captian Zaraki your physical is scheduled for tomorrow evening." Unohana said in a voice just above a whisper. Nanao was surprised when the Spartan Captain stopped at the door, how had he heard that?

Nodding his head Kenpachi gave a grunt of acknowledgement before he lead his squad away.

"Thank you for that distraction Nanao-san" Isane said "Captian Kyoraku was right when he said that we would be needing your help today."

"My Captain was here today?" Nanao inquired quickly.

"Yes, he came in for his physical just before Yachiru" Unohana said taking Yachiru's file from Isane. "He dropped of a few stacks of forms with us and asked if we could turn them in when we turned in ours. "

"Can I see those forms?" Nanao asked.

Unohana nodded in agreement and lead the to lieutenants to her office. Four neat stacks were on the corner of Unohana's desk. Nanao looked over a few of the forms. All of them were done correctly with Kyoraku's neat signature at the bottom.

All the anger that she had been feeling this morning faded and if she had been alone Nanao would have cried. "Thank you Captian Unohana for doing this for us "

"Of course, and thank you for your help. Yachiru can be a handful when it comes physicals even for me." She said taking her seat. "By the way how did you know that would work?"

Nanao shrugged, "it's obvious that Yachiru favors Byakuya even if she doesn't understand why. So I figured if he was around she would stop just long enough for you."

"Isane please make a note to schedule Byakuya's and Yachiru's at the same time next year." Unohana said and Isane was quick to make the note.

"I'll take my leave," Nanao said softly but before she got out of the door Unohana's whispered voice reached her.

"Shunsui mentioned that the he was going to need a nap after his physical. Said there was no place like his office to nap"

A small smile played on Nanao's lips and she nodded, "thank you."

She took her time walking back the the 8th. When she got there the 3rd seat looked as though he was ready to pass out.

"I am sorry about this morning Enjoji" Nanao said softly "please take the rest of the afternoon off." With that she walked into the office she shared with her captian.

Sure enough Shunsui was on the couch his strawman covering his face. Light snoring told her that he was sleeping. She looked at her desk and the rest of the missing paper work had been returned.

She looked through a few of the pages and sure enough they had been completed.

She had been so over whelmed this past week with the dead line coming closer and she wondered if Shunsui had noticed. He only did things like this when she got super stressed. It would be sweet and all if he was part of the reason why she was so stressed. Then again he never let her get to the point of exhaustion.

It had happened once in Her many years as a lieutenant. She had worked herself sick and not even because they were behind or because a deadline was close. No, she had done so because she wanted to get ahead.

Kyoraku had used what Nanao now called his 'Captian Voice'. He even used her title calling her Lieutenant Ise and telling her that it was an order. Then he had proceeded to walk her home and made sure she was tucked in before leaving. She had woken up to dinner on her kitchen counter and a note telling her to take the rest of the week off.

"Why are you crying?" A concerned voice spoke from behind her and pulled her out of thought.

"I'm not crying" She said as she shook her head and wiped her eyes under her glasses.

There was a small chuckle before Nanao was turned and pulled into a hug. Her hands instantly fisted themselves into his shihakusho. He engulfed her with his big frame and let her cry until she was ready to pull back.

She gave a few sniffs as she pulled away removing her glasses. "Why can't you be normal?" She pouted looking up.

His face was fuzzy but she could tell he was smiling at her. "Normal like Captian Kurotsuchi?" Nanao pulled a face that made him laugh deeply, "or normal like Captian Kuchiki?"

Nanao made another face, "you have a very weird definition of normal Captian." She let go of his top and back up so she was leaning on her desk. "You couldn't have named two more abnormal Captians if you had tried." She laughed placing her glasses back on. "I meant Ukitake if you must know."

Again Kyoraku gave a deep laugh. "I can do that"

Nanao raised an eyebrow, "oh really?"

He nodded his head, "yeah I can be like Jushiro"

"I have a feeling I am going to regret asking that of you." Nanao said turning to her desk and gathering the neat stacks. "I'm going to turn these in. You are more then welcomed to be excused for the rest of the day if you like."

"I was kind of hoping that you would want to go for some afternoon tea" he said slowly.

"Since you went through all this trouble of making sure we would get these done on time I think we could have tea together." She said placing the papers back on her desk.

Turning she started to head out of the office, "I had tea with Captian Ukitake this morning" she teased.

"Oh? And is his tea as good as mine?" Shunsui asked following behind her.

"His tea was excellent but no where near your tea" She said honestly. They left the 8th and made thier way to thier favorite place to drink tea.

#bleach fanfiction #bleach #nanao ise #shunsui kyoraku #jushiro ukitake #retsu unohana #yachiru unohana #yachiru kusajishi #kenpachi zaraki

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Sleeping With The Enemy II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Part 3 of 3

Summary: Being a Slytherin yourself doesn’t make you hate Malfoy any less. So why can’t you stop fantasizing about him? (18+)

PART 1 PART 2

A/N: I’m thinking of combining this concept with another series that I’m planning rn because I had so much fun writing this mini series! I hope you guys like the ending! Thank you so much for your support! <3

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, Words: 3.2k Warnings: post-war Hogwarts, smut, swearing, oral sex (male receiving)

Once again, an image was stuck in your mind.

This time however, it was way worse than your ex and Pansy. It was of Draco Malfoy and Pansy. Of his hips thrusting into her; of her legs wrapped around his waist, accompanied by the sound, sweaty bodies slapping against each other. It haunted you whenever you closed your eyes, it followed you into your dreams that night. You still couldn’t believe that happened to you. Twice in one week.

At breakfast you could barely look at them. You sat at the far end of the table, next to Millicent, keeping your head down. In your first period, it was the same. You were glad they were both seated behind you. Well, until Professor Slughorn decided to pair you into groups. He chose Malfoy as your partner.

What a huge surprise.

Of fucking course.

“Did you sleep well last night?”, Malfoy asked nonchalantly while reading the instructions.

You almost dropped the glass of snails. “Exceptionally well,” you then said and cleared your throat. You didn’t have to look at Malfoy to know that he was smirking. Clenching your teeth, you continued working in silence.

Malfoy spoke again after a few moments. “Never would have thought you’d be into something like that.” He walked past you to grab a bottle with snake blood from the other side of the table. When he did that, his arms brushed your side. You hated yourself for the shiver that ran down your spine.

“Something like what?”, you asked innocently. “The smell of honey?” You gestured towards the cauldron where a pink liquid bubbled, smelling like honey and wildflowers. The potion could let the person who drinks from it forget anything they want. How fitting, you thought. Exactly what you needed right now. It was also extremely toxic when given too much.

“Watching.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks. “Don’t, Malfoy.” You kept your eyes on the liquid. “If I didn’t know it’d kill me, I’d stick my head into the cauldron right now to erase the memory from my mind. So can we please just … forget it. Please?”

“Begging suits you.”

You groaned. “Fucking hell, Malfoy.” Everything seemed to be a joke to him.

The blonde Slytherin chuckled at your reaction and for the first time since you started working together, you looked at him. His stormy eyes sparkled with mischief and he lowered his voice when he continued: “I don’t want to forget about it.”

Me either. You stared at him.

“Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Malfoy, are you making progress?”, the voice of your Professor made you flinch. Slughorn had appeared next to you, looking curiously into the cauldron.

“We’re almost there, Sir,” Malfoy replied and your cheeks burned. “Almost there.”

***

The remaining lessons of the day followed the same plot - you sat far away from Malfoy and Pansy and avoided eye contact at all costs. It worked perfectly - until your eyes accidentally wandered over to his table.

He wasn’t writing. His quill layed loosely in his hand and his gaze was fixated on you. Only then you realized what you did - 

You bite down on your lip when you concentrate or listen to the professors, Malfoy had said during that faithful night where you first talked, combine that with your skirt riding up your thighs and …

You crossed your legs, causing your skirt to ride up even higher. Malfoy shifted in his seat. When you felt the soft tingling in your stomach, you turned your head away.

***

“Theo, if you don’t stop eyefucking that Hufflepuff right now, you’re gonna sit on the bench and watch today. I am not losing against Gryffindor - again,” Blaise looked at the Chaser with narrowed eyes.

Your team members chuckled and Theo only rolled his eyes at Blaise - however not before winking at the 6th year Hufflepuff who gave him a little wave in response as she walked towards the stairs.

You stood outside the Slytherin locker rooms, all dressed in your quidditch uniforms. Today was the second game of the season and your team captain was dead set on winning it.

“Maybe Y/N should sit on the bench today, Blaise,” Malfoy suggested. “I heard she’s good at watching.”

You clenched your jaw. “Then you probably also heard that I’m even better at kicking your ass.”

“Please,” he raised one eyebrow. “I want to see you try.”

“Alright, whatever this is, stop it.” Blaise sighed. Apparently, the whole team seemed a little distracted today. “This is the second game of this year but it’ll also be the first game we win. So, pull yourselves together and make the Gryffindors regret the day they were born.”

You lost the game.

It was embarrassing, really. In the history of Quidditch, not once did Slytherin loose this high to the Gryffindors. When you walked off the field afterwards, heads hanging and accompanied by the laughter and songs of the Gryffindors, Blaise was fuming. It came to no surprise to you that he ordered you and Malfoy inside the boys locker room, after everyone had left.

“Both of you - in here,” he demanded in a sharp tone. Draco returned from the far end of the room while buttoning his shirt. You leaned against the doorframe, annoyed and frankly tired. A lecture from your team captain was the last thing you needed right now, considering you’d get one at the next training session anyways. Blaise looked back and forth between you and Malfoy before announcing: “Get your shit together?”

You raised your eyebrows. “What?”

“We all get it, you hate each other,” Blaise began. Malfoy snorted. “But if you let this affect our Quidditch games I have no choice but to …”

“To what?”, the blond one asked.

“Kick you off the team.”

Your eyes widened and you straightened up, taking a step inside. “So, Malfoy is the one who keeps making inappropriate comments and I’m the one who gets kicked off the team?!” You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Are you for real, Blaise?”

He looked at you calmly. “You are distracted.”

“Because he distracts me.” You gestured at Malfoy who rolled his eyes.

“During the last training sessions, you didn’t focus and kept your eyes on him instead of the Quaffel. Didn’t matter whether or not Draco said something beforehand,” Blaise said. “So, to answer your question - yes, I’m for real.” 

You swallowed. You were speechless (and a little embarrassed). You opened your mouth but then closed it again.

“Don’t, Draco,” Blaise shot his friend an annoyed glance. You quickly noticed why - Malfoy watched you, amused. He obviously held back a grin. When Blaise confronted him, he gave a dismissive wave. “Give it a rest, Zabini.”

“No, I won’t,” Blaise scoffed, “stop trying to get her attention unless it’s Quidditch related. It’s annoying and I won’t allow it in my team.” He looked back and forth between you again. “Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Malfoys voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Yes.” You nodded, anger still burning inside of you. Blaise nodded, not content but slightly less mad, and left. You decided to find him later and talk a little sense into him.

It was quiet for a while.

“Should have fucked him when you had the chance.” Apparently Malfoy was incapable of keeping his thoughts to himself - no matter how stupid they were.

“Oh, when will you ever shut up?!”, you sneered at him. “I can’t believe you almost got me kicked out of the team!”

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your eyes off me.”

“Right,” you laughed bitterly. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You stare at me, you make inappropriate -”

“Stop saying I’m the one who’s inappropriate when you literally watched me fuck your best friend last night.” 

This managed to shut you up. You gasped at his words and then the image appeared in front of your eyes again. His hair that was still messy from the shower resembled his hair from last night after Pansy had tugged on it and run her fingers through it.

“Did you know we’d meet there?”, Draco continued. “Did Pansy tell you?”

“Of course not!”, you exclaimed, “What’s wrong with you!”

“What’s wrong with you for not leaving?” Malfoy walked towards you until only a few steps separated you.

“You would have caught me!”

“I caught you anyways.”

“I’m sorry,” the apology left your mouth before you could think about it.

You saw a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “For what?”

“I should have left.”

Malfoy looked at you. He was so close. So awfully close that you could smell his spearmint shampoo. And there was something else … something beneath that fresh scent. He smelled like sex. You smelt it before, you realized. But this time … this time it was because of you.

“Why didn’t you?”, Draco finally asked in a low voice.

“I couldn’t.” You were trapped in his gaze.

“Why?” He moved his hands slightly and they brushed against yours. Your breath shuddered.

“Because I keep thinking about -”, you trailed off.

“About what?”

“What you said that night.” The words were barely a whisper. You were scared he might have not understood you, unsure about whether or not you could repeat them.

“Do you want me to turn it into a reality?”

Your heart began to pump faster in your chest, you were scared it might jump out of it. The second the question left his mouth, you knew the answer to it. Your body knew the answer to it. The way, the hair on your arms and neck stood up, told you.

It would be like an itch. You would scratch it once (maybe twice) and then it would be gone. Forgotten. You could go back to hating him and finally start grieving your lost relationship. Your breathing hitched when he tilted his head and his eyes dropped to your lips.

“Yes,” you said.

Your lips collided and the world stood still.

You felt his hands on your hips immediately, pulling you closer to him, as his lips worked tirelessly against yours. When they parted, his tongue slipped into your mouth and it swallowed the soft moan. Before the war, before he became a Death Eater, there were rumours floating through Hogwarts passed by giggling girls and jealous boys. How many times did you hear Pansy swoon over the way he kisses, the way his lips taste against hers? Countless times. And yet, nothing could have prepared you for this.

He was leading and it came to no surprise to you. You lost yourself in him, all the doubts and anger and embarrassment from the past days faded away, and all that was left were his lips against yours. His hands found your hair, tugging on it sharply to expose your neck. You whined when he traveled down to kiss the sensitive skin on there.

“Fuck,” you whispered as he sucked on the skin before abruptly pushing him away.

Draco looked up, visibly confused. You smirked, your hand still on his chest, as he walked backwards until he felt the bench against the back of his legs. You pushed him down and straddled him, your skirt riding up your thigh. When you let your hips roll against him, you heard it again - the same low moan from the night before. It resonated within you, causing you to press yourself tighter against him and deepen the kiss. You felt his erection and an ache began to grow inside of you. Just feeling it like this … you could imagine how big he truly must be. You wanted, no, you needed to see it, feel it, taste it. 

His hands searched for the hem of your skirt and you felt his fingers trailing up your thigh. “Not yet,” you whispered and playfully pushed them away. Keeping your eyes locked, you slid down his lap and in between his legs. A smirk spread to his lips as you unzipped his pants.

His cock sprung free, fully erect and dripping. You gulped at the sight, your panties dampening. You reached for his shaft and Draco let out a sharp hiss when you gave it a few good, hard strokes. His breathing became ragged and when the look in his eyes darkened, you leaned forward and licked over the length of his cock. Your tongue circled over the top and you moaned when you tasted the salty precum.

“Tease,” Draco mumbled and you chuckled.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” you whispered in response.

“I want you to take my cock in your mouth,” he said, “take it like the - ah, fuck!”

Your mouth closed around his shaft and he let his head fall back. His eyes fluttered shut as you began to bop your head up and down. You couldn’t take him all in so your hand pumped him in the same rhythm as you sucked him off. Moans and curses escaped his lips. “I knew there was a reason why I wanted to fuck you all this time.” 

You moaned around him, the familiar ache growing stronger and stronger inside of you. It was the same sensation you had felt the night prior. But now you weren’t forced to stand aside while he fucked another girl - now you were the one making him tremble. Draco’s hand found your hair, guiding you.

You gagged when his cock hit the back of your throat and he cursed. “Good girl,” he was out of breath, “sucking my dick like the good little slut you are …”

You looked up at him through your lashes - and you thought he looked beautiful the night before? Well, this was truly a sight for the gods. Seeing him staring down at you, his blonde hair hanging down messily, his eyes dark with lust - if your panties weren’t completely soaked before, they sure as hell were now.

You sensed that he was close. His legs started to tremble, he tightened the grip in your hair, and then he abruptly pulled you up. If you had it your way, he would come inside of your mouth. You wanted nothing more than for him to release himself inside of you as he fucked your mouth. Draco had different plans. 

He got up, his clothes falling to the ground quickly, and pushed you against the locker room wall. You licked over your lips before his mouth claimed yours again in a hungry kiss. He ripped at your blouse, buttons clattering on the ground. His hands explored your body, grabbing and squeezing and then he finally, finally, slipped underneath your skirt and panties. You moaned loudly when his fingers teasingly stroked over your wet folds.

“Oh, you’re soaked, darling,” he chuckled cockily.

“Shut up and touch me already,” you shot back.

“Your wish is my command.” You felt the smile against your skin and then pleasure exploded inside of you. His fingers circled over your clit, stroking, teasing, flicking over the sensitive skin and your moans turned into whimpers and pleads and begs. With every movement of his hand did he push you closer to the edge. You were so close, so fucking close - Draco stopped.

Your eyes flew open in anger but then you felt him pressing against your entrance. He looked at you, his grey eyes searching for something in yours - you nodded. The simple sign of consent wasn’t enough.

“Ask for it,” he growled.

You snorted. “What?”

His thumb flicked over your clit once more and you moaned. “Shit,” you managed to get out breathlessly. “Oh, fuck me, Malfoy!”

His cock pressed against you. You would just have to buckle your hip and he would slip inside of you. “I said,” his hot breath sent shivers down your spine, “ask for it and say my name!”

You whimpered. “Please, Draco, please will you fuck me? I need you.”

He thrusted into you in one swift movement. Your walls stretched around him and it was almost too much. The pleasure almost bordered on pain, but gods, if this wasn’t the most delicious pain you had ever felt in your life. He gave you only a little time to adjust before he started pounding into you.

“You have no idea what you did to me last night,” he whispered in between sloppy kisses. “When I saw you …”

“It was so fucking hot,” you said, another loud moan escaping your mouth as he sped up. For a second you were scared someone might hear you and come in but the thought got chased away when Draco groaned in your ear.

“I forgot all about her, I only thought about fucking you. The look in your eyes … let me see them …”

His hips stuttered when your eyes met. Your body arched against him when he shifted, hitting that sweet spot from a different position. You didn’t think it was possible for you to become even wetter but slick juices ran down your leg. “I thought about you tonight,” you whimpered, “touching me … taking me …”

It was true. When Draco and Pansy had left the Astronomy Tower and you were up there all alone, a moment of weakness overcame you. The pleasure inside of you had grown too strong and in the haze of the aftermath, your body craved release. You came silently, the image of his grey eyes staring at you still in your mind. Shame had followed quickly. Shame and embarrassment by what you did.

“Fuck,” Draco groaned before he loses all control. There was nothing sweet or slow about his thrusts anymore - he fucked you violently, took you as he pleased. His hands gripped you so tightly, you knew it would leave bruises but the sharp pain was drowned out by the pleasure. It built and built inside of you; your legs started shaking and then you heard him calling out your name before the orgasmn rolled over you like a wave. You held onto him desperately, cursing loudly as you came all over his cock. Draco followed shortly after, pounding into you, moans escaping his throat, until he finally released himself. Warmth spread inside of you and you shuddered.

Your breath trembled as you rode out the last waves of the orgasm. When Draco pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness allowed a last, short whimper to escape your mouth. He lowered you to the ground carefully, before sitting down next to you.

You leaned against the wall with your eyes closed. When your breathing calmed down you turned your head towards him. He looked at you, his chest rising and falling steadily.

“I understand the hype now,” you said after a few more moments.

He raised an eyebrow. “The hype?”

“Around you,” you make a vague gesture in his direction. “I understand now.”

Draco snorted. “I’m flattered,” he said dryly. “But this wasn’t my best work.”

“It wasn’t?”

He shook his head.

“Then what is?”, you asked curiously.

“Get under the shower and I show you.”

***

HP Masterlist 

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