#and somehow those two didn’t correlate in his head.

[redversaillesrose]

My brother (24) was very Shocked and Upset when our dentist told him today that sodas are Very Bad for your teeth.

#He was so scandalized when he told me. #Like Five Stages of Grief upset. Only he’s yet to reach Acceptance. #He said and I quote #But dude how can they sell something that’s SO bad for you? #and I’m hearing him like ??????????? you smoke????????? #and somehow those two didn’t correlate in his head. #He kept going like #Like even clear sodas are bad apparently it’s not just coke. And even zero coke is bad!!!!! #I literally sat there looking like I was hearing a shitpost irl.

[gunilslaugh]

A Non-Confessional Valentine's Day

Goo Gunil

Summary: Gunil was a new transfer to your school and your new lab partner. He planned on clichely confessing to you on Valentine’s Day, but then he discovers that you hate the holiday.

WC:~2k

Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

“Class since tomorrow is Valentine's Day I thought that it would be fun for us to do a chocolate lab, so be ready for that tomorrow,” your teacher announced around the end of class. You let out a groan, head falling onto your desk at the mention of your most hated holiday. 

“Not a fan of Valentine’s Day?” Gunil, your newly appointed lab partner, asked. You pick your head up from the desk and turn to look at Gunil. 

“No, it’s the worst day of the year,” you stated. 

“Why?” Gunil questioned. His heart was beginning to weigh heavy. It had only been two weeks since he transferred to your school, but ever since the first day when you welcomed him with a kind smile he could tell he was interested in you. His interest only grew more each passing class period spent with you. Since Valentine’s Day was conveniently approaching, Gunil thought that it would be cute if he confessed to you on the love-filled holiday. However your clear dislikement for the holiday had thrown a wrench in his plans. 

“Have you heard of Jungsu, Jiseok and Jooyeon?” you inquired. 

“Triple J? Those popular guys?” Gunil checked. 

“Yeah them. Jooyeon is my brother. I guess Jungsu and Jiseok kinda are my brothers too. Just not biologically,” you let out a light chuckle. Surprise makes its way onto Gunil’s face. He never would have guessed that you were related to Jooyeon. He didn’t really pay attention to Triple J either though.

“And this somehow correlates to you hating Valentine’s Day?” Gunil inferred. 

“Right, I should get to the point. The people who are too shy, scared or whatever other reason why they decided that they can’t confess to any of the three in person, they go through me. I’m like a proxy for confessing to Jungsu, Jiseok and Jooyeon. It’s gotten quite annoying to be the messenger over all these years. Anyway Valentine’s Day is the worst day for me being a proxy and therefore the most annoying,” you fully explained. Gunil gave an understanding nod. He would also get annoyed over constantly being some kind of confession proxy. The weight on his chest feels lighter. He’s not quite sure if confessing to you on the holiday is the best plan though. He might need to revise his plan. 

“Well if you need a stand in messenger let me know,” Gunil offered. A smile pulled at your lips. 

“Thank you, but I won’t do that to you,” you tell him. The bell rang signaling the end of class. 

Your most dreaded day of the year has arrived. Sitting up in bed you seriously contemplate going back to bed. You can’t be used as a proxy if you’re not there. Then you remember the lab you are doing today. You’re too nice to leave Gunil alone. Just like you’re too nice to tell people to confess to Jooyeon and his friends themselves instead of going through you. Getting ready you tried to mentally prepare yourself for the day you are about to have.

First period hasn’t even started yet and you already have two bags of Valentine’s Day gifts on either arm. 

“Delivery number one,” you raised your arms and spoke with foe cheerfulness as you approached where Jooyeon, Jiseok and Jungsu hangout before class. Jungsu helped take the bags from your arms.

“Thank you,” he tells you. He is well aware that you don’t like today. You nodded and tried to pull your lips into a smile but it ended up looking like an awkward line. You tried to stay somewhat hidden until the bell for first period rang.

Moments after you sit down at your desk, not even having time to pull anything out you’re already being approached by two girls.

“Y/n,” one of them calls you. 

“Yes?” you asked, but you already know what they’re going to say. 

“Can you give this to your brother?” one said.

“And this to Jiseok?” the other added. They held up their gifts. 

“Sure, just leave them there.” You pointed to the corner of your desk. The two girls thanked you then headed to their seats. Leaning back in your chair you waited for the teacher to start class. You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. You turned around to face the student who sat behind you. 

“Can you pass this on to Jungsu please?” they asked sheepishly.

“Yeah, give it here.” You stuck out your hand. They set the straps of the small bag over your fingers. You heard them mutter out a thanks as you placed the beg beside the other gifts. 

By fourth period your arms are loaded with Valentine’s Day gifts. You let them half haphazardly fall on your desk, letting out a sigh. 

“Hey y/n,” someone greeted  you. You tensed slightly, you hated hearing your name on Valentine’s day. “Woah you weren’t kidding.” You relaxed realizing that the voice belonged to Gunil. 

“Hi, Gunil. I wish I was kidding,” you stated. You now noticed that some of the bags had fallen onto Gunil’s side of the desk. “Sorry, I’ll move these to the floor in a second,” you apologized, beginning to grab the bags. 

“It’s alright. We share the desk anyway,” he dismissed. He then lends you a helping hand in moving the gifts to the floor. Class started not too long after and the chocolate lab was actually fun. 

“Here, happy Valentine’s Day,” Gunil slid his tiny box of freshly made chocolates towards you. You couldn’t fight a smile from making its way onto your face. 

“Why? Don’t you want them?” you questioned. 

“I don’t eat sweets often. I gotta keep a watch on my physique.” He flexed one arm, making you laugh. 

“I don’t think a couple pieces are going to hurt you,” you teased him. “Thank you though, I’m keeping this,” you slid the box closer to you. Gunil was quick to note the way you happily stared at the box. It made him start to wonder. 

“What kind of sweets do you like? I probably have some somewhere in these bags,” you asked. “Are you saying you steal from your brothers’ Valentine’s Day candy?” Gunil laughed. 

“It’s not like  they will notice that it is gone.” you shrugged. “Plus it’s the only way I get Valentine’s Day candy,” you added. 

“I just gave you some,” Gunil played. Once again you smiled. 

“That’s true. They have plenty to spare though,” you noted. 

The bell rang signaling the end of class. “Finally I get to get rid of these,” you said. It was lunch time now, you were able to deliver  the gifts you received to their intended receivers. 

“Do you want some help?” Gunil kindly offered. You didn’t want to bother Gunil, but as you started at the amount of bags littering the floor you caved. 

“Yes, please,” you told him. Gunil took no time in loading up his arms with the gifts. You walked with Gunil over to where your brother Jooyeon, Jungsu and Jiseok sat for their lunch. 

“Delivery number two,” you announced, setting the bags down. Gunil copied your actions in setting the bags down.

“Oh you have a helper this year,” Jiseok remarked. 

“This is Gunil,” you introduced him.

“Your new lab partner?” Jooyeon asked. You nodded in confirmation, taking a seat. 

“Aren’t you gonna go sit with your friend?” Jungsu asked. You shook your head. 

“I need a break. I don’t want to be handed anymore gifts,” you say and motioned for Gunil to sit down beside you, to which he happily did. 

“You have to be the only person who doesn’t want to get gifts,” Jooyeon teased you. 

“It’s different when they’re not for you,” you stated. Your words made Gunil think. What if it wasn’t Valentine’s Day itself that you hated, but the fact that you receive tons of gifts that aren’t actually yours. He’s sure that being the messenger is annoying. However it’s probably even more annoying that that’s all you are. You’re never the receiver. He thinks back to the smile on your face when he gave you the chocolates that you made in class. Maybe his original Valentine’s Day confession wasn’t a bad idea after all. 

“Yo I think I’m winning this year!” Jiseok exclaimed. 

“Winning what?” Gunil asked, confused. 

“They do this thing where they see who gets the most gifts every year,” you explained. 

“Jiseok does,” both Jooyeon and Jungsu correct you

“Don’t act like you weren’t happy when you won last year Jungsu.” Jiseok pointed his finger at Jungsu. Who raised his hands in defense. 

“Y/n loses every year,” Jooyeon stated. 

“Why are you including me in this? I’m clearly not going to win,” you were obviously annoyed. 

“You didn’t used to be included, but after Jiseok lost two years in a row he started to include you so he couldn’t come in last again,” Jungsu exposed. You scoffed. 

“Thanks Jiseok,” you said sarcastically. 

“You’re up one from last year,” Jiseok noted. He pointed at the box of chocolates, the one Gunil previously gave you, sitting in front of you. 

“This is from Gunil. We had a chocolate lab today, but he doesn’t eat sweets often, so he gave it to me,” you explained. 

“Hey I said happy Valentine’s Day when I gave it to you, so it counts,” Gunil defended. 

“You’re giving Valentine’s Day treats to my sibling?” Jooyeon played. Gunil hitches for a moment. 

“Yeah I am,” he recovered confidently. Jooyeon shoots you a not so subtle glance. 

“On second thought I think I will have lunch with Gunil.” Jiseok begins to open his mouth to say a snarky comment. “Just the two of us I mean,” you interjected, pulling Gunil up by his arm. You dragged Gunil somewhere away from your brother and a place where not many other people were around. 

“Sorry,” you apologized for randomly dragging him away. 

“It’s ok,” he tells you. If only you knew the way your action made his heart beat. Gunil thinks that he would let you drag him anywhere. “What if someone confessed you on Valentine’s Day?” Gunil questioned. You’re a bit taken back by his question. 

“I’ve never thought about that before. For me Valentine’s day always revolved around Jungsu, Jiseok and Jooyeon,” you answered. Gunil decided to take a chance he reached into his bag to pull out the gift he had gotten you. 

“I was asking because I originally had this plan to confess to you today, thinking that it would be cute. Then you talked about Valentine’s Day being the worst day for you and it made me think again about confessing. However after seeing how you smiled when I gave you the chocolate we made in class. I think you hate Valentine’s Day because you never receive any gifts yourself, so let me change that.” Gunil sticks out his arms, handing you the gift. “ I like you y/n,” he confessed. You are stunned by his confession and how he had you figured out. No one else ever seemed to care about how it must feel to be you. To get all these gifts every year, but none of them were meant for you. That the only gifts you got were the ones you took from your brother and his friends. 

You seemed to be taking too long with your answer because Gunil started to back track. 

“Unless you really do hate Valentine’s Day then you can forget about me confessing.” He dropped his arms. “I mean I still like you, but I can confess another day. We can pretend I didn’t confess today,” Gunil says. You take a few steps closer to Gunil taking the gift from his hands. Gunil looks at you hopefully. 

“Thank you Gunil. I like you too,” you confessed back. You too took interest in him the first day that he transferred into your class. Feeling more than happy to take the new cute guy as your lab partner. Gunil and you shared a hug, pulling away you stared at the gift he had given you. 

Maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t the worst day of the year. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Up my count to two this year,” you told Jiseok once you arrived home. Holding both of the gifts Gunil had given you today. 

“Someone else gave you something?” Jiseok asked in surprise. 

“No,” you laughed. “They're both from Gunil, but I need all the points I can get.” you said

“Ok, two points for y/n,” Jooyeon fakely noted down.

#xdinary heroes #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xh gunil #gunil x reader #goo gunil #koo gunil #gunil #gunil fluff #xdinary heroes fluff #xdh fluff

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

Hi this is my first time doing this so I am so sorry if what I’m asking for is confusing. Could you do Fem! of GN! Reader that is Arkhamverse Jason Todd with Muzan, Kokushibo, Douma, and Akaza(separate). If you aren’t aware of who Arkham Jason Todd is; he basically gets tortured by the Joker for a year or two and all that mental manipulation for him to hate Batman. So in Batman: Arkham Knight, he appeared there as the Arkham Knight to kill Batman, at there were times he almost succeeded. So for this request, I was thinking that the reader does get tortured for a year or two(so they are mentally fucked up) and while being tortured, their captor just shows them pictures of their s/o with someone else. Which means their captor is manipulating the reader into believing that their s/o had just replaced them like that.(Which does not correlate with what actually happened). And so for things to line up in this universe, capability wise, the reader would be more like Darth Vader(weapon, fighting style, force: maybe, suit: maybe; I’m so sorry that I’m doing a lot of crossovers; I apologize if I am being overwhelming). The reader was manipulated to hate their s/o, and want to kill them(not by actual will, the reader is confused and needs help). The reader and their s/o had a few run ins, and the reader got close to killing them a few times. So perhaps on one of the run-ins they have, the reader gets unmasked(they intentionally do it) and their s/o is just shocked that they were alive. And just what their reaction and response would be to this, and would go on from here. Would the s/o or reader die? Do they somehow clear this misunderstanding? I came with this request purely for angst with a hint of comfort, but please do have fun with this. And so sorry for the confusion I might have gave you.

(Hello Anon, Thank you for being so nice. I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t do Douma and I hope you enjoy this!!)

Delusional Mistakes

(Characters Included- Muzan, Kokushibo, and Akaza)

(Warning: Manga spoilers for Akaza’s part, angst, swearing, death)

About the reader: Reader is human and has a mask. Reader has whatever abilities you want it’s up to you but the strength of the abilities are Upper Rank level, the reason reader has the abilities is because of the person that tortured them.

🩸Muzan Kibutsuji🩸

- When you got kidnapped he was angry. He immediately got one of the Upper Moons to look for you before something bad happens. He couldn’t concentrate on anything due to the stress, which that only made him more angry. When the Upper rank he sent to look for you came back with no results, he lashed out calling them useless for failing to meet his expectations.

....

The first time you two battled he was surprised that you even stood a chance against him. When you came barely close to killing him he was terrified, the fearful memories of Yoriichi replayed over and over in his head like a broken record. He slashed your face with a powerful blow, causing your mask to break and his red eyes widen.

“What the hell, Y/N what’s gotten into you?” Muzan said, still wrapping his head around the fact that you’re still alive.

“You should ask that to yourself. You fucking replaced me for some nobody!” You shouted, anger cycling through your veins.

This enraged the Demon Lord, “How dare you accuse me of that. You know what since you want to accuse me of replacing you, I think I might will.”

Almost immediately after he spoke those words he struck you with a quick attack, in which you dodged but got off balance. Suddenly he appeared behind you, putting his arm straight through your head, instantly killing you.

“Goodbye, former lover.”

🌙Kokushibo🌙

- When you disappeared he went looking for you, he found it very strange that you just suddenly went missing. So he looked around for a few weeks but when there was no luck he stopped. He destroyed some pillars in his room out of frustration before sitting on the floor, feeling the sadness and grief hanging on his shoulders. Eventually he moved on as time went passed.

....

When you decided to attack him he was confused on why a person would randomly target him like that but he didn’t think too much about it. He was mesmerized by your abilities so he offered you to become a demon and get stronger.

“As if I would want to send eternity in this world knowing that assholes like you exist.”

When you bluntly rejected his offer he was shocked, not because of the rejection but because of your voice. He recognized it. He grabbed your mask and ripped it off, revealing your face. He puts his blade back in its holder, dropping the intention of killing you.

“Y/N-”

“Shut it Kokushibo, there is no talking this out. Any questions you have will never be answered so drop it.” You spit out.

“Is that so?” He questioned even though he knew the answer.

He took his blade and sliced your head off to ensure of a quick death. To his surprise he felt tears running down his face, he had thought he moved on from you but it turns out that couldn’t be further from the truth.

🏀Akaza🏀

- When you went missing, he was determined to find you. He searched for months and months on end until he finally gave up. He was so tired of searching for months only for no sign of you, but just because he gave up doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you anymore, he still loves you greatly. He feels so angry that you got taken away from him, he will never forgive the foolish person who took you away.

....

When you attacked him for the first time he didn’t think much of it. He just brushed it off as a random person trying to look for a fight. Though he was very amazed by your strength, he wanted to fight you for eternity.

You were fighting him for hours, desperate to kill your former lover in which you believed that he was a cheater. One of Akaza’s Air Technique attacks hit your mask, shattering it to pieces. He halted all his movements when he saw your face, his non-beating heart dropped to his stomach.

Was that really you? Was he fighting his beloved this entire time? “Y/N? Why are you doing this and where were you this whole time? He questioned.

“Because we had such good times together so I thought we would be together for eternity but I couldn’t have been anymore wrong.” You said with a voice filled with disgust and hatred, running towards him with a lighting speed, tackling him on the ground.

Akaza was still stunned by your words, still wrapping his head around everything. “What the hell are you talking about? What happened? Did someone manipulate you into believing something that is not true?” He said, refusing to attack you, all he wanted now was for you to be your normal self again.

You grab him by the throat, looking into his eyes with a sinister smile on your face. “You reap what you sow, Akaza.”

As Akaza was about to question you again he felt the the sharp burning of the sun on his skin. He made the quick decision to run but unfortunately for him, you weren’t gonna have that. You held him firmly in place with your immense superhuman strength, watching his flesh burn as you laughed maniacally.

He was stunned by your strength, you definitely gotten stronger since the last he saw you. As he was burning up he saw memories of when he was a human, remembering his old lover who he used to love when he was 18 years old.

He looked at you and smiled softly, hugging you while whispering a small “Welcome back, Koyuki..” You froze as those words caught you off guard, watching as Akaza faded away. You have no clue why but you have tears in your eyes.

Masterlist

#kny scenarios #kny imagines #kny x reader #kny x y/n #muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo x y/n #akaza x reader #akaza x y/n

[xshatteredreflectionsx]

( throws a 🌑 for @calledstars )

@calledstars

The day-night cycle wasn’t the same on the new planet as it was back on Earth. A group of astronomers and other scientists were currently monitoring the rotation of the sun and twin moons and correlate it to the time cycle that they were familiar with, but the fact of the matter was that they were still too new here to definitively say. The working theory was that every half hour equated to one Earth hour but, again, more data was needed. For now, the crew and colonists were encouraged to stick to their normal sleep cycles as best they could, even if that meant going to bed at sunset and waking up at what looked like late evening.  

The architects that had been in cryosleep had been among the first to be woken up; men and women who had been specifically selected by Mission Control for this exact purpose. By all rights Atlas could have stepped back -there wasn’t as much of a need for a Head Engineer now that they were on the ground- but that wasn’t in his nature.  

“…And that’s how everything is progressing so far, Captain.” Atlas concluded. He had been giving Morgan a bi-weekly progress report ever since they landed (which had been… weeks? Months? The scientists were still working on an accurate calendar; another thing they were playing by ear for now) and everything was going surprisingly smoothly. There hadn’t been any communication with another civilization yet (and the Comms Team had people sending transmissions day in and day out), but they hadn’t been invaded and/or taken as prisoners by any native species. That was good.  

Morgan’s hum of affirmation turned into a yawn that they failed spectacularly to hide from Atlas. Concern broke through his mask of professionalism.  “Have you been getting enough sleep, Captain?” The gentleness of his tone sent waves through Morgan’s core, a sensation that was becoming more frequent and harder to ignore. Harder to justify with: “we witnessed reality collapsing as the two last living souls; of course, things are different now”.  Something tender and beautiful and delicate and horrifying.  (They had almost indulged in it back in that Noir universe, nearly tasted the nectar of that forbidden fruit. But that had been… different. They -Morgan, Atlas, them- had been different.)

 “Have you?” Morgan asked. Atlas stiffened slightly at the question, shuffled his feet, but said nothing. Deflection and Avoidance; what a pair the two of them made. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you looking dead on your feet when you walked in.”  The AI-generated voice on their PDA was monotone (one of the tech guys was working on a more “natural” sounding voice, but progress was stalled because Morgan had yet to settle on a voicebank that sounded like “them”), but still somehow conveyed the scolding tone they were going for.

As if to prove their point, Atlas’s rim-rod straight posture sagged. When he blinked, his eyes stayed closed too long and his head started to lull. He caught himself too late. “…Yes?”  He replied, as if he wasn’t the worst liar on the entire ship. Atlas wore his emotions on his sleeve. While he certainly had the ability to be shrewd and cunning when pushed to the limits of his sanity when the need called for it, this was not one of those times.

“Sleep with me tonight.”

“…What?”

FuckshitfuckGoddamnautocorrectwhyhadn’tthisshitbeenfixedyet?!

Morgan turned off their PDA and tossed it on their desk like it had just bitten them. They breathed in deeply through their nose and let it out in a long sigh. Face burning, they tried desperately to compose themselves. “Sleep. In here. In my bed.” They signed. Fuck, shit, fuck. That didn’t sound much better. “I can’t have you passing out in the hallway.” There. That was… better.

Atlas coughed awkwardly into a fist. Morgan wanted the floor to swallow them whole.  “…don’t have any pajamas in here.” He muttered.

“That’s fine. Just, I dunno…” Morgan groaned and scrubbed at their face with their hands.

“Look, Captain, it’s fine. Let’s just- I’ll just- Goodnight.”  Atlas turned on his heel and walked towards the door. Or, more accurately, staggered. Exhaustion seemed to catch up to him with a vengeance, as he stumbled over nothing and all but collapsed into the door. His hand pawed pathetically at the wall beneath the hand-scanner in an attempt to open the door. Morgan followed and grazed a hand along his back. Atlas tensed and jerked away as much as he could. Morgan tried not to think about how much that stung (they had been so tactile with each other before. Handshakes and fist bumps and high-fives and hands clenched so, so tightly. They had clung to each other as the universe ended, because if they were going to die for good, they wanted to die basking in each other’s warmth).

“It’s obviously not fine.” Atlas looked at their hands, glassy-eyed and half-lidded. They could see how pallid his skin was, how dark his bags were. It had been easy to miss in the brilliant glare of the planet’s sun; easy to write off as him not adjusting well to the new day-night cycle. Everyone was tired; it was easy to blend in unless you really looked at him. “Stay the night.”

“Is that an order?”

“I’ll make it one if I have to.”

Atlas blinked slowly and let his head fall against the door. He stayed that way so long, Morgan worried he had fallen asleep like that. And perhaps he had for a few moments.  “…m’kay.” He slurred. Pushing himself away from the door seemed like herculean effort, but he accomplished it, dropping himself into an empty armchair and tugging off his boots. Morgan dashed away to get changed in the bathroom, staring at themself in the mirror.

Okay. So. Their Head Engineer (whom they had very strong platonic-not-romantic feelings for)was taking his clothes off in their room. That didn’t mean anything! He couldn’t very well sleep in his coveralls, now could he?  They thunked their head against the mirror and tried to think of other things. Pretty flowers and all the pictures that they had been able to take. The song that Yancy had written and tried to perform for them (He really was a great guy. Misguided and horrendously flawed, but the multiverse proved he could be so much more than a thug in prison). What they wanted their PDA’s voicepack to sound like.   Anything they could think of until they felt brave enough to go exist in the same room as Atlas like a normal fucking person.  They changed into the most modest jammies they had and marched into the main room.

Atlas had curled himself somewhat awkwardly into the armchair, coveralls neatly folded and tucked away near his boots. He wore loose pants that were absolutely not dress code compliant, but looked comfortable, and it turned out that turtleneck of his was sleeveless.  Morgan stared at him, brow cocked and jerked their head towards the bed.

“Wha- Captain, I couldn’t. Th-this is already a gross overstep as it is! I’m fine, see?” To prove his point, Atlas shifted so his legs were draped over one of the arms of the chair, his arms curled into his chest. “Comfy-wumfy, like a snug bug in a rug. That’s me.” He absolutely did not look comfortable.  Morgan continued to stare at him.

“Bed, mister.” They signed resolutely.

They had received one of the nicer beds (a queen-sized mattress that actually felt like a bed and not a piece of foam) with soft pillows and a comfortable blanket. A humbler Captain would have protested (their quarters were more like a fancy hotel suite than anything expected from a quickly-built residential building as it was), but they loved beds and pillows and blankets too much to refuse it.

With some reluctance Atlas shuffled over to the bed and crawled in, groaning in appreciation despite himself.  When Morgan climbed in, he started arranging his pillows into a makeshift barrier between the two of them. He stopped as soon as he caught Morgan staring at him. Shamefully, like he had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar before supper, he returned the pillows to their rightful place. Morgan nodded and dimmed the lights.

 It still looked like early evening outside, golden pink-orange light flooding in through the window. Atlas had fallen asleep almost as soon as he had gotten comfortable, looking more at peace than Morgan had seen him in ages.  The sun caught the deep brown in his hair and added much-needed color to his cheeks. Morgan’s hand moved before they realized it, gently brushing away dark waves of hair from his face and ghosting down his cheek. It was painfully, achingly intimate.  It made their embrace in the crumbling warp core room feel small by comparison.  It made them realize that their bed wasn’t as big as they thought. They’d barely have to move and they’d be forehead-to-forehead with him. A little closer than that, their noses would brush. And closer than that…

Morgan pried their hand away from his face and clutched it to their chest, rolling over so their back faced Atlas.  Their heart was simultaneously in their throat and pounding against their ribcage, which should have been impossible. They swallowed, but that did little to help. Morgan grabbed a pillow and held it in their arms, burying their face in it.

They were in so deep they couldn’t even see the surface anymore. How? When did it even happen? In the wormhole? In the warp core room? After they had woken up in this new universe? Before? After?

Whenever it happened, Morgan was fucked. So, so, so fucked.

#calledstars #Not in Circles but In Spiral Graphs (ISWM) #Rewrite The Stars (Captaineer) #(Does it smell like Pine in here to you?) #(Also hi dumbass flustered Morgan I missed you)

[multiverseofimagines]

hi! perhaps this is a little different from the usual ship requests you receive, but i recently made a stranger things oc and am having trouble choosing who in the show to pair her up with, so i was hoping you could help with that.

my oc is 19 years old as of season 4. cis female and bisexual. she's 5'6", has pale ivory skin, short blonde hair and big brown eyes.

she's known to be rather reserved and distrusting, appears cold and distant to strangers. but to people who take the time to get to know her, and who she lets into her life, she's very sweet and kind and caring, and would do anything for the people she loves. she could also be very playful, loves making silly jokes and exchanging harmless banter, and has a childlike excitement over things she's passionate about or things she genuinely finds fascinating. since she likes writing short stories and drabbles in her free time, she's rather imaginative, but when it comes to real life, she's more of a realist rather than a dreamer.

she has impulsive tendencies as she more often than not acts according to her emotions rather than using her head. in correlation to this, she has quite the temper, which also makes her an impatient person who gets frustrated easily. she also has trouble thinking and making important decisions under pressure, yet doesn't like asking people for help because one, she hates receiving pity, and two, she doesn't want to burden other people with her problems. nevertheless, she is a goal-driven person who would stop at nothing to achieve what she has her heart set on.

she isn't a complete nerd, but she prides herself in her studies and her above average grades. i also like to imagine that hawkins has a small animal shelter, and she often goes there to volunteer. while waiting for college, she'd work at hawkins public library.

she's an outdoors person, loves flowers, stars, sunrises/sunsets, feeling a gentle breeze blowing through her hair, and animals, especially dogs. she has a dog herself, a golden retriever named buddy, and she grew up with her family's dog, ribbit the beagle. she has a love for music (both listening to music and playing a tune on her guitar), reading, and writing whatever comes to her mind. she also has a bit of a caffeine addiction, which has caused her to build up a caffeine tolerance (caffeine is no longer effective on her).

this isn't too important for a ship, but she actually has powers! not from dr. brenner's experiments though, but from a completely different project that was conducted in georgia before being shut down. she has the ability to convert her own (chemical) energy into other forms of energy (light, kinetic, electrical, etc.).

i'm so sorry if this got a little too long! but please give my girl a ship, thank you in advance!

I ship your OC with,

Steve

Steve definitely belongs with someone who’s kind of the opposite in him in a lot of ways, thats who he usually gets along with. But in a lot of ways I feel like they would connect and have a good laugh together.

Your OC would probably be the type to be oblivious to the clear romantic tension between the two of them. Constantly saying “ Oh we’re just friends.”

Steve would be the type of guy to really try to poke through the coldness of their first meeting, like he would make jokes and tease her into opening up, would say cheesy shit about how he made her smile, feel proud of himself for that one.

She’s the type that probably didn’t want to be associated with him at first, he’s a flirt, a jock stereotype from one of those pretentious movies, and yet he somehow makes her smile the widest she’s ever smiled, and that changes things.

Steve helping her come up with plots to stories, reading her drabbles and giving advice, even if he’s not the smartest guy, nor the type to be into reading, he still gives his opinion.

Steve seeing her powers for the first time and absolutely freaking out, either because this is pre season one when they meet or because he just wasn’t expecting it from HER.

Look-Book

Your OC gives me studious “it” girl vibes, like she has the potential to be popular, because she’s absolutely gorgeous but she’s a bit of a nerd, so I wanted a good in-between of that. I wanted a lot of plain colors, like white, brown and very muted colors that we usually see as being very bright in the 80s, I feel like she would be toned down in her dress, it makes her have this total like elegant vibe. Plus she’s standoffish, and I feel like that would reflect heavily in her appearance.

Playlist

I know you said your OC plays guitar, and honestly the music was super hard to pinpoint I wanted to go so many directions with this but ultimately instead I chose some songs I know Steve would like, and or songs that would feel like falling in love with him, gather that romantic inspiration. Whether its on his part of not. Remember When is the only modern song I added but its very much about like a coming of age, falling for somebody you knew back in highschool sort of thing. I think thats the vibes these characters would give me, like they have known eachother their whole lives, and yet they start to see this other side of their friendship.

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington ship #stranger things ship #multiverseofimagines ships

[goldenfharry]

Hi, I‘m the anon from recently. I didn’t want to come across as bitter or ungrateful or even as a conspiracy theorist with saying he ignores me on purpose. I just don’t get how he’s interacting with the same people over and over again. I know, going to a show shouldn’t mean a granted interaction or something like that but it would feel nice. I know he’s not obligated to and I should not buy tickets to a show in hopes of getting even a head nod or anything but it’s still bothering me. I can’t change this feeling. As I said, I went to quite a few shows of his in Europe and UK since 2017 probably around maybe 20 in total (with ONO London 2019+2022 included). Mostly on my own. I don’t like interacting with harries as most of them are too intense and too far up everyones ass around Harry and so on. So I stay mostly on my own. Luckily I somehow managed to get really close to the stage most of my shows, so harry definitely has seen me multiple times as his ONO shows and his arena and theater tour pits are tiny.

Yet it’s always the same people he’s recognizing. Even Ruth’s parents! Like, how and why? It’s like he has a sensor for the handful of harries being there every time and purposely seeking them out in the crowd. So naturally I‘m bummed as to why he just doesn’t seem to recognize me at all…when he seems to recognize anyone else…

Listen, I understand you when you tell me that you would like for him to acknowledge you on his shows and he never did. specially if you went to multiple, I get it. I said that you were making conspiracy theories because you mentioned that fact that he only interacts with shippers. That’s a whole different scenario. There’s no correlation between those two things. What could happen is that he sees the same faces multiple times and ends up paying more attention to them. And yeah, i get it, if you went to multiple, you get your hopes up and end up being frustrated. But please, let’s not turn all the subjects to blame shippers, because we are just making PR side looking delusional and less credible, and we don’t want that

[extremelyblackandwhite]

i’d do anything for love | nick fowler

pairing: nick fowler x reader

summary: nick realises it’s time to abandon his old life.

warnings: blood, smut (18+), wounds

i would do anything for love, anything you've been dreaming of but i just won't do that ...

Nick and Y/N had been in this predicament enough times to know the choreography like the palm of their hands. Except, this time, she would take the blame in blowing their cover because she was the one who ended up rushing to the bathroom like a crazy woman after they placed sea food in front of her at the restaurant for their 2 year wedding anniversary. It was a pas de deux both of them had learned to do over the course of their relationship. It seemed wherever they went, they ended up being followed by one of the girls of the 355 who would inevitably shot at them. At this point, her purse always carried a small silver gun rather than her wallet. 

As such, there they were, behind a pillar at a 5 star hotel in Singapore, trying to figure a way out of this mess. There wasn’t a way out other than shooting at the woman shooting at them - Mace. Y/N didn’t like her and she didn’t like her either and if she stopped to think why she sure would know it somehow correlated to both having being romantically involved with Nick. Nevertheless, she just used to shrug and say she was a bad shot. 

     - How many did you count? - Nick whispered against her ear, still holding her flush against him. 

     - 49. 

     - Shit, we need another shot. - he turned around so she would be against the pillar. 

     - Don’t you dare go out there. - she grabbed him by his collar. - I am a much better shot than you.

     - Baby, she has to shoot another shot. What do you suggest?

She went silent, her lip pursed as it always was whenever she thought about something either particularly tricky or dangerous. Turns out his wife is more willing to put herself in danger than he was which was something Nick didn’t thought was possible. Sometimes it still astonished him that she had not joined an agency or chose the rogue pathway; she just walked through life with all those skills, following fugitives for fun. He did have the best wife after all.

    - When she fires her 50th shot, you fire at her and rush towards the lift.

    - Baby.

    - You will fire back, no matter what happens. Promise me. - she held onto the lapels of his jacket. - Promise. 

    - You’re very hot when you tell me what to do. - he leaned down to kiss her before allowing her to do what she thought about.

Y/N lowered down to unbuckle her heels, throwing them to the side before holding her gun against her abdomen. She took a deep breathe before moving away from the column and firing towards Mace who, like any smart agent would, shot back at her; except this time, she did shot right, the bullet piercing through her shoulder. Nick took the change between changing round to shoot towards his ex-girlfriend, grabbing Y/N and running towards the lift. Her hand punched against the button and the close door button, Nick still shooting at her until the lift doors finally closed. She leaned her head against the lift, her hand pressing on the wound and bullet deeply lodged into the shoulder. 

     - Fuck, baby. - he placed the gun in the waistband of his trousers, turning to look at Y/N who was biting onto her lip. - Are you ok?

     - No, Nick. I have a bullet in my shoulder and just left some very expensive pair of YSL pumps upstairs. 

     - Here. - he took an handkerchief of his pocket, placing it under her hand and the wound. - Put some pressure on it, baby. Okay? You’ll be okay. 

The two still had their heart racing even as they reached the lobby, running like crazy people out the reception and into the busy street. She knew they should’ve spent their anniversary at a recluse hotel, but no, Nick had to be his usual cocky self. He ran over to a taxi opening the door and pointing his gun at the taxi driver before he could say anything. The man stumbled off the taxi, running down the street while Nick helped her into the passenger seat before hoping onto the driver’s seat and driving down the street at the fastest speed he could. 

    - I think we lost them. - she said between groans looking to her right. - Yeah, we’re fine. 

    - You just got shot, baby. I don’t think you’re fine. 

    - You’re so overdramatic. 

    - You’re bleeding onto that handkerchief so much it’s red, already. We need to take you somewhere, a hospital, a clinic, anywhere. 

    - Then they can trace us down, that’s stupid.

    - I’m sorry but I’m not about to let my wife bleed to death on our wedding anniversary. 

    - Go near the restaurant I took us last week. I have a friend there. 

    - One day you ought to tell me about the life you had before you met me. 

    - Can’t. - she turned to look at him, smiling. - It would extinguish the fire in our relationship if you knew.

    - Darling, you shot at my ex-girlfriend in a thousand dollar dress and still had a better shot. Best to say, I am still highly turned on by you. 

    - Not now, I am bleeding to death. 

He drove down to a dark alleyway, disposing of the car a few miles away from the spot. She opened the door to step out but Nick was already there to pick her up bridal style. God knows that woman forgets to think every time she’s injured or tired, besides any time was a good time to carry her bridal style. He took her down to the restaurant she’d taken them to which was now shut, yet before he could say anything, she knocked on a glass on a 2-3-1-2 pattern and a dim light turned on before a woman came to the door. 

   - Hi Kate. - she smiled as the woman unlocked the door. 

   - You look terrible. - she replied in a teasing manner before walking to the side to let them in. - Who’s the dude?

   - My husband. 

   - You got married? - she led them to a door which in turn led to a long, thin stairway. - Didn’t think I’d see the day you’d get married. 

   - She did say no 10 times. - he held her close to him, still not fully trusting this woman who apparently seemed to know her. 

As they made it downstairs, a small rudimentary clinic came into view. He guessed it was better than nothing and if Y/N trusted this woman enough to go to her when she was shot, then he guessed she was trustworthy. He gently laid her in a metal table, taking a seat on the chair by the table as Kate came to work on his wife’s shoulder. 

Nick knew Y/N was tough, she had to be doing what she did but some times he wondered if it was time to stop. He did want to get rid of the girls from the 355 and he did want his revenge, but seeing his wife shot over his own mess was only weighing on the idea to disappear. Both of them could easily disappear, settle down in Paris like she used to talk about it with him in bed. He could still remember it, the two of them tangled up in white sheets, the big windows open and the tower Eiffel in view as she told him she could just stay here forever. Maybe it was time for him to quit all this, settle down. 

   - You, James Bond, go upstairs and get me some water. - Kate looked at him mid sewing her up. Nick just shrugged, going up those stairs and leaving the two women alone. - Great idea, Y/N. Get pregnant and get shot.

   - Maybe I’m just bloated, have you considered that?

   - Maybe you’re off birth control and pregnant, yes I have considered that. 

   - I didn’t get shot in my tummy so I highly recommend you save your judgments to yourself. 

   - Lovely, so clearly Bond over there doesn’t know you’re pregnant. 

   - He worries too much.

   - Considering you had a bullet in your shoulder a few moments ago, I wonder why. - she placed the needle in the plate near them. - You know I can’t give you anything stronger than paracetamol for the pain, right?

   - I thought maybe you’d have some of your narcotics left over. - Y/N rolled her eyes. - I know what to do, just didn’t wanna bleed to death. 

   - Next time maybe bring me some chocolates. It’s the third time I’ve sewn you up in the middle of the night. 

   - I keep your life interesting, Kate. - she smiled, her eyes gazing over to Nick who had returned with a glass of water.

The two were out of there almost as soon as they were in. She was in the clear so far, mostly with stitches in the shoulder but it could’ve been worse. At least she’d gotten a few clear shots and at least they could say they’d had an interesting wedding anniversary. Yet, being with Nick was always an interesting ride which she was happy to be on. He drove down to one of the many safe houses her family and he had scattered around key locations. She made her way inside while he took the number plates from the car and placed them into a burning container. He’d sort it out later in the morning, right now all he wanted to be was with his wife. 

Nick walked back into the home, Y/N was in a bathrobe, getting some of the first aid kit they had all over the home, putting in on top of the bed. He leaned against the door frame, taking time to look at her. She was always a sight. 

   - Stop looking at me, you weirdo. - she put a hand on her hip before pointing to the bed. - Sit. 

   - I can sort myself out, darling. 

   - No, no you can’t. - she waited for him to seat down before she sat on top of his lap, wiping some of the fresh blood away from his face using a cotton ball. 

   - I wanna run something by you, baby.

   - What is it? - she threw the cotton ball onto the bin, grabbing some antiseptic soaked pads. 

   - Have you ever thought of just ... you know, baby ... disappearing? 

   - Well, yeah. - she shrugged, lightly patting the small cuts on his face. - But you clearly have some debts to settle and I will support you in that. 

   - Yeah but do you like it?

   - Sometimes. Why are you talking about this now? Are you gonna ask for a divorce already?

   - You got shot, Y/N.

   - I was barely shot.

   - There was a bullet inside of you and this time you were okay. I really don’t wanna wait until the time you actually die in front of me. I couldn’t do that to you, baby. 

   - You’re overdramatic. - she cupped his face, kissing the top of his nose. 

   - I’m a realist, baby. We’re not always gonna have the upper hand. 

   - So what do you wanna do? 

   - Settle down somewhere. - his hand traced her jaw. - Somewhere where maybe I can wake you up with my head in the middle of your legs.

   - You already do that. - she rolled her eyes, leaning her head against his chest. - You wanna go underground?

   - We’re smart enough to do so. Besides, can you tell me you wouldn’t love to go back to that Paris little apartment and have sex every day?

   - Is that all you think about?

   - When you look that good with a dress and a gun ... yeah, baby, that’s all that crosses my mind. 

   - You’re incorrigible. 

   - Shouldn’t look so pretty. - he picked her chin up to kiss her.

It always ended up like this after a mission, with them just softly and innocently kissing until it turned into something else and tonight was no different. Soon enough the soft innocent kiss had lust overtones and he had pulled his trousers down to thrust inside of her. She moaned against his mouth, her hands gripping at his shoulders while he gripped at her waist, softly thrusting in and out of her.

   - We have ... fuck, baby ... we have all the time in the fucking world. - he kissed her neck, indulging onto the top notes of her fragrance and just sliding in and out of her at a slow pace. 

She could feel every vein in his cock and the slow motions were enough to have her wanting for him to go faster, for him to throw her onto the bed and fuck her like a wild animal like he usually did after run ins with the law. Of course, today this was as good as it was gonna get, yet she couldn’t particularly complain as he lowered the sleeve of her robe to kiss down her chest before sucking on her nipple. Her hand moved from his shoulder to his hair as he flipped between kissing and sucking her chest while slowly thrusting in and out of her. 

   - Nick, please. - she begged, holding her against against his chest as she attempted to move faster. Not that he would let her. Nick was in control in the bedroom, always. 

   - You’re even a cockslut after being shot. - he looked up from her chest, his kisses climbing up to her neck once more before he quickened his pace. - Fucking love being inside of you, darling. 

   - Fuck ... - she leaned her head against his shoulder as he started to move at his prefered pace. Her pussy contracted around his cock, as he continued to thrust in and out of her, holding her flush against him until he came inside of her. Y/N bite onto his shoulder as she same too, before leaning her head against his shoulder. - You’re growing soft. 

   - You have a bullet in your shoulder.

   - No excuse. 

   - I love you, darling. - he moved his head to kiss the side of her face. 

   - Love you too, Fowler.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler/reader #nick fowler/you #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #nick fowler/y/n #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler smut

[reidsnose]

doodles

overview: reader doodles on her hands a lot and spencer has to give into the temptation of coloring it in

genre: flufffffff

a/n: sorry ive havent posted a fic in like a week, ive been in quite a slump but i had this idea well after midnight but i just had to write it so lmk what u guys think of this one :)

masterlist

-

-

doodling on your hands: a once nervous habit that had seeped into your everyday life and now is just a regular habit. nearly everyday you would come to work with clean hands and get home with a mini art gallery on your non dominant one.

Spencer admired this from the moment he noticed it. at first he thought you had a tattoo but when you came back the next day with it completely gone, he was a tad confused, only to catch you doodling on that very same hand a couple hours later on the jet. he thought maybe it was an occasional thing, a habit you'd quit once you got better situated into the team, but after nearly a year you still left work almost everyday with some cutesy sketches drawn on your hand.

Spencer found himself looking forward to your doodles, imagining in his head what you might draw each day, and thinking of all the colors you would add if you had the time. being the great profiler that he is, he noticed a pattern: you subconsciously correlated your doodles with your mood.

after especially hard cases or just bad days you always drew roses.

when you were very happy you drew all sorts of fruits.

anxiousness bore little swampy creatures and lily pads.

tired days filled your hands with random, intricate designs that you didn't even have to try hard to make.

and content was anything else.

he was so impressed and absolutely adored your little coping mechanism. watching you concentrate on making those teeny pieces of art simply for your own pleasure was definitely a sight to see. the way your eyebrows furrowed and tongue poked out a bit was absolutely positively adorable. and soon he had noticed that he was looking forward less to the doodles and more to watching you draw them. and after that he began looking forward to just you.

you were sat on the jet with your back to the corner of the last seat on the plane, creating a pattern of roses on the back of your hand. Spencer plopped down in the seat next to you, growing tired of watching from so far away.

"that bad, huh?" he asked, noticing the type of flower you were gracing your hand with.

"hm?" you looked up, confused.

"you only doodle roses on bad days." he explained, pointing to your hand.

"what? no i don't!" you defended, " i just think roses are neat."

to be fair, you were having a bad day but he could've profiled that without the doodle. he cant be right, can he? there was no way you had a mood system for your doodles! unless there was.

"repetitive strokes are therapeutic, so roses being rough days make sense. the spiral in the middle followed by however many layered petals you want is a perfectly repetitive while still interesting enough to doodle."

"if i didn't know any better i'd say you've been spying on me, Dr. Reid," you teased, enjoying the slight rouge that appeared on his cheeks.

"what! no! i'm- i'm a profiler i notice patterns! i just- spying sounds creepy." he stammered.

"ok. how about admiring." you jabbed, turning a little red yourself.

"fine. but you know coloring helps too." he flipped back to the old topic of conversation.

"unfortunately i only have the standard blue, black and red ink."

"roses are red." he chuckled.

"interesting point," you bent down and reached into your bag, pulling out a red pen and handing it to him, "knock yourself out."

"what?" he looked at you slightly bewildered.

"coloring is therapeutic, you said it yourself. and you and i both know that you need something to relax you after a case like that. we all do." you explained, trying to be as nonchalant as you could knowing his skin would touch yours.

he grabbed the pen and clicked it open, coloring smoothly and slowly inside the lines you had already made in black, careful not to go over them and smudge the ink. you and him both tried your best to ignore the warmth shooting through your bodies from every place your hands touched. his fingertips lightly grazing your knuckles as he worked.you worked your way up your arm, giving you both space to work and by the time you landed, you had a half sleeve garden of surprisingly well colored (and somehow shaded) red roses.

you went home that night and bought a pack of colorful (washable) pens, hoping this little rose garden with him wasn't a one time thing. and even if it was, you would want to add your own pop of color to your doodles.

thankfully it wasn't.

you and Spencer found yourselves drawing and coloring on your hand a lot. he would catch you doing it and pop in over your shoulder just to add a touch of color where he thought it fit. and you began to feel sad washing off what the two of you had created that day, feeling nostalgic for time that has hardly passed.

and sometimes on the jet you would get tired of your own skin, so you would draw little doodles on his hand, often times leaving a little heart at the base of his thumb. these little hearts he avoided washing off for as long as he possibly could because they felt like a part of you was always with him. he started doing the same thing to your hand, a sort of signature the two of you shared.

most days, the doodles on your hands were pretty much fully colored in.

but now Spencer began to worry. what if you get ink poisoning because of his coloring? sure, the risk was statistically low, improbable even; but never zero. so one night after work he went out and bought a little sketchbook and on the front he scrawled,

"y/n's super duper special sketchbook"

upon receiving it, after giving him a hug he never wanted to let go of, you took a sharpie and started editing the title he had given it. so it now read:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook"

the two of you used up a whole page that day, front and back filled with all types of fruits. Spencer smiled to himself, knowing this had made you very happy. you took a second to take a step back and admire him doing the very thing he admired you for. and you understood why; he just looked so precious and you suddenly realized you craved the feeling of his hand touching yours. so you leaned over and drew a little black heart at the base of his thumb. he looked up at you, smiling widely before returning a red heart to the base of your thumb.

and you guys tore through that book, using a page a day and filling it cover to cover in no time. your own personal handmade coloring book. it turned out to be both of your most prized possessions, a pang of sadness filling your chests as you finished the last page.

you felt bad taking it home with you that night, wondering if maybe Spencer wanted to keep it. maybe you should keep it at work so you can both have it. thats the fair thing to do. you looked down, smiling sadly at the little red heart on your hand.

he did want to keep it. but he had a better idea in mind. he looked down, smiling excitedly at the little black heart on his hand.

the next day when you arrived to work all your worries were solved. on your desk laid a new sketch book entitled:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook: volume ii"

you laughed as you read a small lilac post it note that said, "i want to keep this one please" signed with a little red heart in the corner.

-

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

#criminal minds #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #david rossi #luke alvez #tara lewis #matt simmons #bau #bau x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

[shorkbrian]

So happy your requests are open and I don't mind the wait at all!

I just really want to see a sweet quirkless omega going into heat and sending her alpha Overhaul (Kai Chisaki) into a hard rut and he just pins her to a wall and fucks the life out of her before taking her to the bedroom to knot her.

but you do know that it would 100% be like "hate sex" on Chisaki's part (even though he kinda do like it lol)

(Kinda overhaul x reader x chrono btw but only for a little bit)

Just. Overhaul being able to tolerate you being kept at his compound because one, you're his mate, whether he likes it or not.

Two, you're quirkless.

And three? You don't bother him, you stay out of the way and you have passable hygiene when compared to Chisaki's standards.

But that has to be thrown out the window the second Chrono hauls you into Chisaki's office, the man in charge of watching you when Chisaki isn't around flustered and pink around his ears.

"B-boss, your omega, she's-"

"What the fuck is that smell." Chisaki growls, eyes immediately snapping to your trembling form. Taking in the way you're gasping, sweaty, barely able to stand even with Chrono's hand tight around your bicep and holding you up.

For some reason, the sight of Chrono touching you makes Chisaki itch. Odd, that usually wouldn't bother him.

The smell is cloying; too intense and too sweet, it makes his throat burn and his skin crawl.

"I think she's in-"

"Please, it hurts." You choke out, cutting off Chrono. "Need... I need-"

Chisaki recoiled as the scent got stronger, clouding his senses, making him feel... Chisaki didn't even know. Excited? Tingly?

Uncomfortable - he decided.

"Get her out. Give her a bath too, she smells disgusting." He commanded, but Chrono stepped forward instead of back out the door.

"Boss, she's in heat."

Heat?

Oh.

Overhaul cringed.

Logically, he knew it was going to happen eventually. But on the other hand, he had hoped his omega would be different. you was already quirkless, already pure... surely it wouldn't be too far of a stretch to assume that you wouldn't be affected by the mindless heat-addling that Omega's all seemed to undergo?

His irritation was rising.

"So?"

Chrono looked at his boss with questioning eyes, unsure what to do with the omega becoming increasingly more distressed at his side.

"You'll get her over it." Chisaki decides, ignoring the bitter taste that floods his mouth as he utters those words. His eyes slide over you again, lip curling into a disgusted sneer.

"Messy thing."

Chrono is frozen in disbelief. But this isn't a test of his loyalty, Chisaki truly doesn't want to deal with the germs and the mess and the cleanup associated with omega's during their heats. Slick everywhere, pheromones staining the room, needy hands touching everywhere-

"Sit her down on the couch." He instructs his second-in-command, rising from his office chair and stepping around his desk so he can close the door. "I want to make sure you don't damage her."

That's the only reason. Only reason he wants to be present and watching while Chrono fucks you through your heat.

"You're serious then?" The white-haired man asks, removing the plague mask he wears while inside the compound, thus beginning the process of disrobing.

Chisaki waved his hand idly, resuming his position in his office chair with a tired sigh. "It'd be such a chore for me to do it myself. Aren't you an alpha yourself Chrono? You should be jumping at the chance to bed a nice quirkless omega."

Chrono shrugs off his white coat, looking up from where you're panting on the couch while he stands in front of you, eyes finding his boss. "I wouldn't want to overstep my boundaries with your property."

The brunette smiles, not that anyone can see, but it's clear he's pleased by the crinkle near his eyes, the relaxed way he slumps in his chair. "And that's why you're my favorite Chrono."

You're wearing what you usually wear - long pants, a cozy sweater. Overhaul hasn't heard you complain about the chill in the compound, but it's clear to see it affects you by the way you dress and the way your nose darkens from the cold.

You don't fight the half-naked Chrono as he helps you out of your sweater, unbothered by the temperature of the room and looking entirely too hot and sweaty.

Chisaki supposes it's good that you aren't fighting. You had at first, when he first brought you here, crying and pleading for him to let you go and leave you alone. That pathetic show was quickly shut down with a simple demonstration of Overhaul's quirk, and what he'd do to you if you didn't comply.

Now you're seemingly accepting of the situation, casting nervous glances towards Chisaki, your attention constantly getting stolen by the pale man stripping in front of you.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before Chrono has his cock in you.

And you look completely blissed out, mouth open and letting out choked little gasps on each thrust, one hand desperately trying to hold onto Chrono's shoulder, his arm, his chest - anything you can reach.

The other hand is on your stomach, and Chisaki doesn't understand why until he focuses on it, sees the distention whenever Chrono swings his hips into you.

Chisaki feels himself throb.

The sounds you're making sound like music. Awful music, all discordant and rushed and pornographic, stuttered breaths and pitiful cries, high-pitched and girlish moans in between Chrono's quiet huffs.

The sweet pheromones in the air become sweeter, thicker, and Chisaki can see the direct correlation between the smell and how much slick is dripping out of you, drenching Chrono's pretty cock, his stomach, even splattering his thighs on each thrust as his cock squelches deeper.

It's disgusting.

Digusting but curiously enamoring. Chrono's got you sitting on the couch, pushed up against the back while he fucks you. It's a tall piece of furniture, and Chrono merely hikes his leg up onto the cushions to gain a better angle to fuck you with. Your slick is everywhere; Chisaki knows that couch won't be salvageable after this. Somehow, he doesn't mind.

What he does mind, however, is the way Chrono is speeding up, rhythm stuttering and practically falling apart. He's going to knot you. Chisaki had given him full permission to - that's what taking care of an omega during their heat means, after all. But jealousy is boiling inside him, blood painfully engorging his cock, he feels tingly all over, very unlike himself.

He wants to touch you.

But you're a disgusting mess, smelling sweet and fertile and sweating and dripping everywhere. Chisaki can't believe he's feeling... attracted to you right now.

"O-ohh feels good, r-right there! Yes, thank you,t-than-" You mumble out, drunk on cock as you shudder through an orgasm, cream gushing out of your cunt and further dirtying Chisaki's office.

Chisaki sees red.

He's furious - not only at you, but at Chrono for touching you, and for himself for explicitly allowing it to happen. Chrono's about to knot you, claim you, and Chisaki is out of his chair before he knows what's happening.

"That's enough." And his gloved hands are ripping Chrono away from you, sending the other man reeling as his subordinate struggles to control his alpha instincts and stop himself from fighting his boss, tearing Chisaki to shreds for interrupting his mating.

Chisaki doesn't care, he's too focused on you.

"You're so pathetic." The man hisses at you, crowding into your space. When had he taken off his mask? He wanted to smell more of you.

His gloves are gone too, ripped away in a moment so he can feel your wet skin against his hands, feel the sweat beading your brow before those same fingers snap to undo his pants.

"I hate you, I hate you." He seethes, golden eyes staring at you so intently that you start to cry, overwhelmed with the situation, still craving a knot, craving intimacy and tenderness.

You've reduced him down to barely better than an animal, tearing at his clothes so he can sink into you, closing his eyes at the way you're wet and warm inside, perfect and velvety.

Chisaki doesn't know what's come over him. Normally he'd be disgusted, absolutely incensed at having such filth be in direct contact with his skin. But right now... all he feels is pleasure ripping through his veins, clouding his head, his mind, flushing rational thought down the toilet.

"Stupid, hate you-" his words rattle out on each rapid thrust, breath uneven and labored as his muscles stretch and work to fuck you harder and faster. He's building up to his peak.

One of his hands is fisted in your hair, close to your scalp and keeping you still, the other hand clamped firmly against your hip and making sure you don't wiggle away. Alpha instincts taking over as his brain convinces him to mate, breed, cum.

"You're so fucking dirty." He gasps, voice heated and gravelly as he struggles to fight through the heat taking over his body.

He's going into a rut.

Chisaki isn't supposed to do that. He takes supplements and suppressants to ensure he doesn't have too. Ruts are messy, nasty things to endure, and Chisaki would rather lick the floor of a dirty subway than experience one.

Yet here he is.

"You disgusting, wretched thing-" And you're crying, fat tears mixing with sweat and rolling down your chin. Chisaki feels disgusting himself, wanting to lick the liquid away.

He hasn't felt this good in his entire life, this burning fever pitch rising and rising and cresting, blazing along his nerves.

He can barely thrust his hips anymore, and only then does Chisaki realizes that he's popped his knot, jammed it in deep while you cried and moaned and struggled to hold onto him.

Theres a sick sense of satisfaction filling him up, his mind clears for half a second and Chisaki thinks to look over his shoulder, seeing Chrono still standing there with a soured look on his face, cock still swollen and drippy and bobbing purple against the man's stomach.

"Get out." Chisaki orders, and Chrono knows enough to merely pick up his coat and wrap it around himself before exiting the room. He's never seen his boss like this - so feral and unhinged and debauched like some regular dirty plebeian.

But Chisaki doesn't care. Odd.

He cares about grinding against you, feeling you milk every last drop of cum from his balls, shimmying his hips to hear you gasp and moan and clutch at his body, trembling like a little lamb.

Chisaki doesn't want to stop.

"As soon as my knot goes down-" He growls, lowering his face until it's mere inches from your own, breathing into your space. "I'm going to take you to my room and knot you until you break."

#Chisaki kai #kai #chisaki #overhaul #yandere chisaki #yandere #Yandere Chisaki kai #Yandere overhaul #kai chisaki #tw.nsfw #tw.a/b/o #tw.dubcon #tw.noncon #tw.drugs #alpha overhaul #alpha Chisaki kai #one of you hoes #donated a lot of money to my kofi recently #even tho I barely be writing #like NOTHING #these past two months #and I would just like to sa #whoever it was #I am going to ask #and then if u say yes #cause consent #I’m gonna kiss u on the mouth #then suck ur dick #REAL GOODT #I love u

[clouds-rambles]

Here's a hurt/comfort idea:

Can I please get Kazuha with a reader who feels guilty about having an electro vision, like some part of them feels they ate somehow at fault for what happened to Kazuha's friend, and so they throw their vision away?

Hurt/comfort for the soul <3

Tomo is Kazuhas friend btw

Beidou calls you kiddo, but in a way an older woman would call someone a decade or so younger than her a kiddo. 40 y/o Beidou for clear skin

Beidou Mum figure alert

1.5k words moment

Pairings; (Romantic) Kazuha x reader, (Platonic) Beidou x reader

Warning(s); hurt/comfort, electro vision user

Keep reading under the cut!

It's been a little while since both you and Kazuha have escaped Inazuma, the two of you have been aboard Captain Beidou's ship since you met her a few weeks ago.

And this is the first time since Tomo's death that both you and Kazuha have finally been able to stop running. In the months you were in Inazuma on the run Kazuha had kept trying to get you to stay in worry that you were going to throw your whole life away. 'And miss out on the adventures you're going to have?' is how you'd always reply, and Kazuha would give you an eyeroll and a light chuckle.

What you'd do for that man honestly.

Kazuha has decided to sit in the crows nest for some silent meditation and here you are contemplating...

You brain brings up memories of every time Kazuha gives you a side glance whenever you use your vision. The vicious flinches when you let the electricity from your vision crackle loudly. The way after a fight Kazuha will take himself off to be alone, the more time he's gone usually correlates with how much you used your vision.

Those kinds of things add up in your brain, you desperately don't want him to be scared of you, nor the things you do.

And while it's true Kazuha holds the philosophy that visions are the beholders of the users ambition to pave the road to their goals... but you've seen people who have lost their visions because of the hunt decree manifest their ambition in other ways.

Surely you could do the same?

Even if it's just for Kazuha's comfort you could give up your vision. Sure, you had both witnessed Tomo's death but you can tell it hurt him in a different way than it did you.

You sigh and rub your face with your hands

"What do I do?" you sigh into your hands

"What's up kiddo?" you hear Beidou ask behind her, she gestures to the space next you and you give her a small nod. She sits beside you

"I think I want to give up my vision" you tell her looking back to her hands. Beidou chuckles a little

"Because of how Kaz reacts I presume?" she asks cocking her brow you nod

"I feel like I'm hurting him every time I use it" you reply, Beidou nods and knocks shoulders with you

"Ultimately it's your choice to throw it away or not" she tells you

"I can sense a 'but'" you interrupt looking to the captain, she laughs a little and nods once more

"Yes, I was getting to that" she jests lightly "I don't think you should do it, at least don't throw it to the bottom of the ocean" she tells you looking you in your eyes

"But I-" you go to say but Beidou interrupts by putting her hand up, she then shakes her head

"Let someone look after it, perhaps Kazuha" she offers, you tap your chin

"He'll blame himself if I make him keep hold of it, besides he's already worried enough about Tomo's vision I don't want to-" you stop yourself before burying your face in your hands

"It's a hard decision" Beidou tells you putting a comforting hand on your back "But if you truly think that it'll help..." she trails off

"Will you take it?" you ask her looking to her, Beidou averts eye contact

"That's a big responsibility for me to take..." she trails off

"Please," you plead "I've been trying to stop myself from using it while it's on my person but it just doesn't help" you tell her. Beidou sighs

"Drop it off to my office tomorrow night, okay?" she asks looking to you "I just want you to contemplate this a little more" she adds with a soft smile, you pout a little

"But I know-"

"I know you do... but I think that's best" she tells you "And if you ever want it back, even if you go three hours without it... you can have it back" she adds looking into your eyes "Okay?" she asks, you nod.

The evening and the next day seems to drag on, your vision is still strapped where you like to keep it. It's been quiet, the most exiting thing that you've done is spend about three hours meditating with Kazuha.

"I can sense that something is on your mind" Kazuha speaks up opening an eye to look at you, you open both your eyes to look at him. You shake your head

"No, nothing more than my normal musings" you lie with a soft smile, Kazuha frowns a little while he opens his other eye

"You're lying" he comments before lightly sighing "But you know I won't push you too much. But, I know what you're like with lots of thing on your mind" you shake your head at his words with a smile

"It's a little annoying that you know me so well" you tell him with a light laugh "But don't worry, it'll be all sorted out soon" you add knocking your knee with his. Kazuha shakes his head

"Well I'm here for you anyway" he says softly smiling at you, you smile back

And here you are three days later, your vision is hidden somewhere in Beidou's cabin. Beidou keeps mentioning that your vision is still thrumming with life, apparently on occasion the vision shines through the cloth that it's wrapped in.

You're not sure if Kazuha has taken notice of the absense of your vision. But you certianly have. It's odd only using your weapon, especially considering that most of your life you've had your vision on you. You keep tripping and getting slightly cornered every time you want to use the power but you can't find it. It almost makes you want to pick the vision back up, but you know inside you can't.

"I figured it out" Kazuha breaks the silence as the two of you walk back to the Alcor

"Figured what out?" you inquire "Life, the universe, and everything?" you ask in jest. Kazuha shakes his head

"No, why you've been so weird the last few days" he replies looking to you, you stop in your tracks

"Oh and that is?" you ask in a teasing tone

"You don't have your vision on you" he tells you stopping a few paces in front of you, you look to your feet "Why?" he asks. It's your turn to sigh

"I just wanted to see if I could fight without it" you lie to him, Kazuha huffs

"Lies" he tells you "You've been avoiding the conversation for three days, I'm concerned" he adds stepping towards you

"It's just, it's just complicated" you tell him crossing your arms, Kazuha matches you and crosses his own arms

"More complicated than following a known Inazuman fugitive?" he asks with a cock of his brow, you look away from him

"It's nothing Kazuha" you tell him, he sighs

"I know I said the other day that I didn't want to push you, but I'm concerned" he reiterates, you shake your head "Did something happen that I'm not aware of? Like with your vision?" he quizzes, you sigh again

"I gave it up okay" you tell him flailing your arms in the air "Because I hate seeing you in so much inner pain every time I use my vision" you add tears prickling in your eyes "There you got it out of me, okay?" you ask walking past him

"It was about me?" he asks turning as you walk past him. Kazuha frowns a little "You didn't have to-"

"But I did" you tell him quietly stopping in your tracks “It hurts so much to see you flinch whenever I use electro. I don’t want to hurt you Kazuha” you turn to him. Kazuha smiles a little 

“I’m flattered that you think about me so much” he tells you placing a hand on your shoulder “But I don’t want you to sacrifice your vision for my comfort, the fear I have will pass quicker when I realise that not all electro is bad” he adds tilting his head a little

“I just don’t like to see you hurting” you tell him looking down. Kazuha chuckles a little

“You could have come to me and we could have spoken about it” he tells you pulling you into a hug “That doesn’t matter though” he adds with a light chuckle “We can work through it all while you still hold your vision” he tells you after a few moments of silence

“Maybe...” you trail off “I’ll follow your lead for whatever makes you the most comfortable”

“Once we get back lets talk about it properly over dinner”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #hurt/comfort #genshin impact kazuha #genshin kazuha #kazuha #beidou x reader #genshin impact beidou #genshin beidou #beidou

[thevibraniumveterans]

“Love is…” …new to Sylvie.

Here’s a bit of something from https://www.marvel.com/articles/tv-shows/sophia-di-martino-sylvie-loki where Sophia di Martino shares some insight into Sylvie and Loki’s blossoming romance.

Though Sylvie is a person who’s very sure of herself, “very confident”, as Mobius describes her, she’s “this wild cat who’s just on a survival mission”, says di Martino of Sylvie, who hasn’t had time to fall in love or even experience love of any sort, given how her life had gone before Loki had quite literally stumbled into hers.

Somehow, within 12 hours of “formally” meeting each other by way of a scuffle in front of the golden elevators that lead to the Time Keepers, she warms up to Loki. Something about him gives her pause, and she’s not so sure why, nor does she quite know how to respond to this new feeling she’s got.

Within mere minutes of a planet obliterating the moon that Loki and Sylvie find themselves on in Ep4, they both share a small but short-lived moment that was so powerful Mobius and Hunter B-15 stepped in to haul the wayward pair back to the TVA. 

No matter how Loki and Sylvie’s moment may be interpreted, two things were clear: 1) they both knew, in that moment, that there might’ve been something new between the two of them; and 2) whatever they did caused a massive and nearly vertical spike on the timeline that was impossible to ignore. Whether both were related, or that one was a causation, or that both were correlations of each other, it didn’t matter. What had happened, happened, and now, Loki and Sylvie are left to figure out their feelings for each other.

According to Sophia di Martino, Sylvie and Loki are like

“…two teenagers who have never had these feelings before.”

Di Martino adds,

“Obviously, Tom’s a super charming, very easy to fall-in-love-with guy. With Sylvie, I was really aware that she's never had feelings like this about anybody. This is a hugely vulnerable position for her to be in. I really wanted it to be not too easy for her to just sort of go there. It’s that moment where it's so awkward. They just don't know how to put it into words. They don't know how to behave around each other. It's all a bit too intense and a bit much.

Sylvie still feels extremely uncomfortable showing that vulnerability and admitting that she likes someone in that way, or that she has feelings for someone in that way. It's something that she's just never been able to do. Never have the opportunity, never met anyone that she's ever liked, let alone cared about. She's got a wall built up. She's not going to just let that down for anybody, and even if she wants to, it's difficult to get rid of.

You know those people that are really awkward at hugging? I imagine it's almost like that [for Loki and Sylvie]. [The kind of] people that need a hug the most but kind of just don't know how to do it. It's a little bit like that. I just want to hug both of them and say, ‘It's all right, guys. It's all right. Let's have a group hug.’”

-

That entire mini scene where Loki and Sylvie talk about their feelings by not talking about their feelings was one of my favorite in the episode. It’s also hilarious how when we first see them start talking, they’re not even touching each other, but somehow by the end of the conversation, they’re shoulder to shoulder somehow, without even moving or scooting closer.😂

Sylvie: “Mobius isn’t so bad.”

Loki: “Or so good.” (Sylvie glances at him.) “I think that’s why we get along.”

Sylvie: “He cares about you.”

(Loki considers this for a second, then looks up at Sylvie. She looks back at him and smiles. He looks away, and for a brief moment, away from all the chaos that has been happening so far, Loki realizes that the breeze that permeates the air around them is particularly chilly. He wraps his arms around himself.) 

Loki: “It’s cold.”

Sylvie: “Mm-hmm.”

(Loki looks off into the distance, before looking back at Sylvie. A thought comes to mind, and he conjures a blanket out of thin air, and has it wrap around his shoulders. He glances up at Sylvie again, and smiles.)

Loki: “I could conjure one for you if you like.”

(With a small grin, Sylvie scrunches her nose and tugs on her collar.)

Sylvie, jokingly: “Tell you what, you could conjure me a new outfit. You have no idea how uncomfortable something like this is.” (Loki casts his eyes down at the ground before him, shakes his head, and chuckles. Sylvie inhales awkwardly.) “So… Mobius and his, um, “theory”…”

Loki, just as awkwardly: “Oh right, right. About my nexus event.”

(Sylvie strikes down the possibility that whatever’s going on between them has got anything to do with the spike, and looks at Loki.)

Sylvie: “Total rubbish right?”

Loki, agreeing: “Absolutely, of course! I mean…”

(Sylvie, awkward as she is in this conversation, brushes a nonexistent strand of hair from her face, and looks at Loki.)

Sylvie: “I don’t mean it wasn’t, y’know, a nice moment.”

(Loki glances back up at Sylvie.)

Loki: “No, it was great. It was really nice. It was, it was great.”

Sylvie, in denial: “It sounds just like another TVA lie.”

Loki, also in denial: “A hundred percent. Totally. Yeah.”

(He shakes his head awkwardly and looks away, before glancing back at Sylvie. He nudges her arm. She’s nervously still. She glances at Loki and looks away just as quickly.)

Sylvie: “… I don’t know how to do this.”

Loki, quietly: “I don’t even know what we’re doing.”

(Sylvie glances at him and smiles ruefully. She admits her loneliness.)

Sylvie: “I don’t have friends. I don’t have… anyone.” (To be with, she means.)

Loki: “Well, you know, there’s more important things, right?”

Sylvie: (She looks at Loki, half incredulous.) “Right? Yeah. Like, like… bringing down the TVA.”

Loki: “Well, saving the universe, when you think about it.”

Sylvie, agreeing: “Well, no need to be dramatic, but yeah, kind of.”

(The breeze picks up a little, and a faint clap of thunder sounds off in the distance. Sylvie shrugs her shoulders once, not wanting to admit that she’s feeling chilly as well. Seeing this, Loki uses a little magic to drape part of his blanket over Sylvie’s shoulders. She glances at him and tugs it closer gratefully. New as this emotion feels to him, and as awkwardly romantic as it looks, Loki is unable to prevent an embarrassed smile from forming on his face.)

Sylvie: “…It’s not very snuggly.”

(Loki is amused by her odd comment.)

Loki, laughing: “…Okay?”

Sylvie: “Is it a tablecloth?”

Loki: “No, it’s a blanket.”

(Sylvie pauses for a second to gather her thoughts, then…)

Sylvie, softly: “Thank you.”

(Loki bows his head slightly in her direction and looks at her.)

Loki: “My pleasure.”

(He smiles, then, quiet. The comfortable silence the pair find themselves in lasts a few seconds before…)

Sylvie: “How do I know that in the final moments you won’t betray me?”

(Loki knows exactly why she’s asking him this question. She had asked him not too long ago, “What makes a Loki a Loki?”, and he had answered her with qualities he knows himself to have. But that was then, and this is now. Perhaps recalling the ruckus at the bunker earlier and knowing all too well what it is what a Loki would do, he latches on to the word “betrayal”. Perhaps also recalling how he had, when he was first arrested by the TVA, declared how he would not let other people decide how his story ends, he makes Sylvie a promise, reassuring her that though betrayal runs deep in every Loki that has ever existed, not to mention himself, he has made the conscious choice to not let that rule his life like it did before. He turns to face her.)

Loki: “Listen, Sylvie, I…” (He exhales once, acknowledging the weight of Sylvie’s question. His blue eyes, having nothing but true sincerity behind them for what is possibly the first time in a very long while, meet hers.) “I betrayed everyone who’d ever loved me. I betrayed my father, my brother… my home. I know what I did, and I know why I did it. And that’s not who I am anymore. Okay? I won’t let you down.” 

(Sylvie searches Loki’s eyes for answers.)

Sylvie: “You sure?” (He nods.) “Because if we make it, and the TVA is gone, there might be a timeline for you to rule.”

(Loki recognizes the inside joke for what it is, as he knows ruling is also something that any given Loki would want to do. But for him now, here, ruling anyone or anything is a thing of the past.)

Loki: “Ah. And then, I’d finally be happy.” (They smile at each other, recognizing the statement as a light-hearted jab.) “What about you? What will you do when this is all over?”

(Loki looks down at the ground before him before glancing up at her. Again, Sylvie brushes another nonexistent strand of hair from her face, but lifts her head, her eyes meeting his.)

Sylvie: “I don’t know.”

(Loki looks away, considering his answer.)

Loki: “I don’t know either.” (He takes a breath before meeting her eyes again.) “Maybe… maybe we could figure it out… together.”

(Sylvie, feeling that she might like that idea, thinks about it for a second before answering.)

Sylvie: “Maybe.” 

-

#mcu #loki series #loki s1e5 #journey into mystery #loki laufeyson #sylvie laufeydottir #sylki #loki x sylvie #sylvie x loki #tom hiddleston #sophia di martino

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  Chapter 10.1

Author’s Note:  Travelers! We are nearing the end of Reader’s journey! (I’m expecting it to end at 10.4 but we’ll see if that ends up being an accurate estimate lol)  Enjoy the newest chapter!

Zhongli was lost in deep thought as you and Xiao faced the Tsaritsa, while Paimon and Aether were arguing on whether they should jump in to help or not.  Despite Paimon's protests, it seemed to Aether that Xiao could very well handle the god on his own.  He wasn't exactly a team player to begin with...

"ZHONGLI!"  Paimon's high-pitched screech finally prodded a hummed response from the former archon.  "We need to jump in!"

"It would be wise for the two of you to leave the palace at once," he advised instead of indulging in the mascot's wishes.  It wouldn't be long now; he could feel the power from the battle reaching its peak.  "Xiao cannot unleash his full power with the three of you here. Your bodies would not be able to withstand it."

"We've already fought with him plenty of times and we're fine!  Don't go underestimating us now!"

"As much as I agree with you, I'm siding with Zhongli.  We'll only get in the way."

"W-Wha-!"  The frustrated emergency food placed her hands on her hips as she gawked at Aether for a few seconds.  Then she turned to Zhongli.  "Then what about her?  Shouldn't we get her out of there too?"

"Do not fret, dear friends,"  the metallic clank of his polearm rang against the floor, "I will retrieve her.  We'll meet again outside.  Go now."  Aether nodded and ran in the direction from which the group had entered--followed by a pouting Paimon.  Zhongli returned his eyes to the throne room as the tiles in the hallway began to freeze over.

"Now."  You and Xiao nodded in confirmation before pushing off the ground in opposing directions.  The air parted for you like the wind had granted a favor, though you had yet to realize you were the one manipulating it.  Metal and gale met ice in a shockwave that sent the Tsaritsa's opponents flying backwards.  

Xiao landed more gracefully than you did and was already at the Tsaritsa's neck by the time you sat up.  He swung his lance down at her, rage filling his eyes.  The karmic debt illuminated his body in black fog, but the Tsaritsa remained unfazed.

She caught the blade in the palm of her hand like it was nothing more than a wooden staff.  The force of the impact sent icy winds ricocheting into the walls.  The support beams and columns groaned unhappily from the jolt, and parts of the ceiling crashed to the floor around the three of you.

"I've killed your kind with ease in the past," she cooed up to him.

"And I've slaughtered hundreds of gods stronger than you."  

"Then you've underestimated my strength."  Her free hand swung towards his chest, with a dagger of ice forming from her palm.

"And you've underestimated mine!"  The chunks of the stone ceiling came tumbling at the god from both sides at a tremendous speed that should've been impossible given their weight.  The hand that was about to pierce Xiao gave up on the idea and went on the defensive to stop the boulders in their wake.  Ice pillared up just in time.  Xiao flipped back with his lance still in hand.  There you stood, on the other side of Tsaritsa with both palms facing her as you controlled the gales.  

How is she manipulating anemo?  Did Barbatos-  Xiao squinted only to find your beltloop devoid of any vision.  And since when was she ever this powerful-

A deranged, fed-up cackle chilled the throne room further, and the Tsaritsa now set her sights on you.  She was before you in an instant.  A breeze was enough to send her back a few inches--a subtle defensive tactic, but it worked enough so that you had a fraction more of a second to react.  Xiao went for her nape, then her knees.  But the god was prepared for the repeated pattern of attack; she ducked enough to expose you to his blade, and Xiao was forced to shift his momentum with exercised precision to avoid decapitating you instead.

A burst of ice emitted from the Tsaritsa and blasted the two of you several feet away from each other.  Xiao, just like last time, landed nonchalantly on his feet while you violently collided with a pillar.  Besides the dull jarring pain ringing through your spine, a sharp one stung your hand as you pushed yourself to all-fours.

"What..." It wasn't the blood that caught you off guard.  Carefully but quickly, you removed the glass from your palm.  Then your tunnel vision dropped to your empty beltloop.  My vision shattered?  When did my-  Realization finally struck you like a brick wall.  How had you been fighting all this time?  How did you have access to manipulate the snow?  Were those stars above you related?  Wide eyes stared at your bleeding hand, your brain pushing out the sounds of the battlefield and of Xiao yelling for you to get out of the way.  When sound finally returned, your gaze trailed upward to find a wall of iced spears barreling at you.

"Rise!"  Another wall of material shot up in front of you, though it was way more solid than the Tsaritsa's attack.  The pillar blocked the spears' paths, then the familiar boots of Zhongli entered your vision.  A hardened gaze met your lost ones, and flashes of a Zhongli in a white hood interrupted the present.  The faint golden glow of his shield shimmered protectively around your crouching figure.  

The archon held his hand out to you with a warm expression.  Mesmerized by his conflicting appearance, your hand met his.  "Rex Lapis..."

Looking down at you, Zhongli couldn't help but see Xiao in your stead just like all those years ago when he had taken the yaksha under his wing.  "Come.  Let us leave now."  It was clear you were having the same sense of deja vu as he was.

You stood obediently, but quickly snapped back to the present moment when you heard Xiao's grunt as he struggled fending off the cryo archon.  "Wait," you stepped away from Zhongli, attempting to get past him.  "We can't leave him.  I have to fight!"

"Xiao is more than capable of handling this matter on his own.  You'd only get in the way."  A grip on your arm was somehow enough to stop you in your tracks despite how light and gentle it was.  Your head whipped back to him.

"I can't abandon him."

"He will join us as soon as he's done. Do you trust me?"

"I-"  Your gaze returned to the violent battle ahead of you.  At some point in your daze, the Tsaritsa had injured him; he was bleeding from his arm from what you could make out.  "Zhongli, I can't leave him.  He's injured.  We can't leave him!"

"Do you not sense the power in the air?"

"Huh?"  The question made you falter, but he was right.  Something about the air was different.  Whether it felt thinner or heavier, you couldn't tell--but there was a clear, crisp feeling to it that wasn't correlated to the icy chill of the Tsaritsa.

"Xiao cannot unleash his full power with you here.  Trust in him; he needs you out of the way."

"...Fine," you muttered with an ache in your chest.  Zhongli pulled you towards the exit as more pieces of the ceiling came crashing down behind you.  You regretted glancing over your shoulder when you heard a cry of distress once you reached the door.  "Z-Zhongli, wait-!"  The entrance collapsed before you had the chance to dive back into the throne room and chase after the sight of a severely injured yaksha.

"We must go!"  He didn't let up his grip on your wrist.

"Xiao!"  The desperate cry fell from your lips this time as you still attempted to fight against the archon's grasp.  "Xiao!"  Please don't die! You come back to me alive, you hear me?!   Please!

..................

Golden hair was the first color other than white that greeted you outside.  "Aether?  Paimon?  What're you three doing here?"

"We must keep moving."  Zhongli finally let go of you and took the lead away from the palace.  His grim expression made your puffy red eyes fill with more tears.  Zhongli said to trust him and Xiao, but what if Zhongli didn't believe that Xiao could win this fight on his own?  

"Come on, it's okay.  We'll get you out of here."  Aether protectively wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled your heavy feet forward.  "Xiao will be just fine."

"Yeah!  He's handled worse than this," Paimon encouraged.  "He'll meet up with us once he's done!"

"Just how far are we going?"  The group must have walked a mile or two from the palace by now--the sight of the shrinking building filled you with trepidation.  That battle would not be easy to win, and it wouldn't be a short one, either.  Still though, you couldn't help but panic at how long it's been already.  "Isn't this far enough?"

"We will rest for a few moments, then we must continue until we get out of Snezhnaya.  Xiao will-"

"I thought we were going to wait for him."

"The country is swarming with Fatui.  We cannot risk-"

"You didn't mention we were going to leave him behind completely!  We can't just leave him, Zhongli! Do you not care at all what happens to him?"

"Keep your voice down-!"  Paimon shushed.  "We can't attract any unwanted attention..."  The ground shuddered, and Paimon's eyes widened as she stared past you.

"What?"

"T-The palace!"

The group turned its attention to the epicenter of the earthquake, and was met with a disturbing sight.  Pillar by pillar, wall to ceiling, the building collapsed on itself.  The palace was reduced to rubble in mere seconds, and the sound echoed faintly until it was replaced by an eerie silence.

"X-Xiao," a faint murmur, then your knees gave out beneath you.  All you could do was stare in shock at the palace, unaware of the tears that streamed down your face.  "Xiao...?  Can you..." hear me?

"Seems the Tsaritsa finished her fight," a foreign voice had everyone but you on edge.  The view of the rubble was blocked by a large hat and blue hair.  "What luck, that I've run into the intruders."

"Scaramouche."  Aether tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword.

"Hey, get behind us!"  Paimon yelled out from behind you.  "You're in no shape to fight!"

"No...shape...?"  Your gaze finally focused on the harbinger directly in front of you.  He found amusement in your broken expression, his lips even having the audacity to curl into a sadistic, lopsided grin.

"I have orders to kill, but I won't give you the chance for reciting your last words."  He raised his hand to strike you down--

--And was met with a blast of anemo that countered his electricity.  He stumbled back into the snow, his hat even dislodging from his head.  "'No shape to fight?'"  Paimon was met with desolate eyes that lacked their usual copy of an amber tint.  Puffy eyes were dried and replaced with a rendition of anger that was neither boiling rage nor cold revenge.  Zhongli could've described it as similar to the Tsaritsa's change of heart over the centuries.  "I feel perfectly fine, Paimon."

"Are you...?"  Aether took a step forward and lowered his sword when you held your palm out to him as a threat.

"I'm fine.  I'll hold him off.  You guys should leave before things get messy."

"Messy?"

"Traveler," Zhongli caught the attention of Aether and Paimon.  "I think it would be wise to follow her lead."

"But she's not in the right state of mind--"

"I'm afraid that's exactly why we should listen to her.  Come now," he ushered them over and they all began to head in the direction of the border.  Aether was still protesting, but you couldn't hear what he was saying.

"You--"  An angry voice prompted you to turn your head.  "--are DEAD!"

"On the contrary,"  you didn't budge when he came running at you, "it's you who'll die today."

Sparring sessions in the snow with Childe made it much easier to navigate the fresh layers.  It appeared that Scaramouche's time in Mondstat had made him rusty when faced with using the snowy terrain to his advantage, but that didn't stop him from promoting a superconductive reaction whenever he managed to get close to you.  If your vision didn't break, it would be much easier to use that strategy against him.  Instead you relied on an old tree branch as your weapon and the wind to guide your stiffing movements as the temperatures finally bit into your skin.  

Speaking of Childe, where is he today?  He couldn't be waiting at the border to ambush the group...right?  A quick glance over your shoulder gave Scaramouche an opening.  

"Haah!"  Electricity pulsed through the branch that blocked his attack from striking your head.

"Ngh!"  Bear through it.  I've felt worse pain.  I can handle this! "Get back!"  Your hurricane-force winds didn't catch him off guard now that he knew it was your only strategy against him;  you had no idea how to use this unfamiliar power, and while your movements were quick, your inexperience showed.

Scaramouche leapt in time to dodge the gust that tried to sweep him off his feet, and the hat that was in his hand struck your jaw hard enough to bring stars into you vision.  Who knew such a small person could strike like one of those electro skirmishers-

You stumbled and attempted to regain your footing, but not before those all-too familiar jolts rang through your body.  "Ah!"  The snow beneath you didn't help, and neither did the fact that you were now on your knees.  Violent winds whipped blindly in every direction; you couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes.  It seems you were missing your target since you were still being electrocuted.

A sharp kick to your stomach, and you were now staring at the overcast sky.  Then that damned hat obscured your view.  "After this, I'm killing that hero of Mondstat and your retired god."

"Tch."  The taste of iron overwhelmed your tongue.  "You won't kill us that easily."

"What do you care?  You have nothing to live for now that that adeptus is dead.  Die while you still have some smidge of dignity left."

Your confidence faltered if only slightly.  "Take that back.  Take that back!"  You swung the branch at his catalyst and leapt to your feet.  "He's not dead!"  Your aimless, sloppy swings were enough to draw a laugh from the harbinger.  At least, until he kicked you backwards, using his vision to push you further and harder into a tree behind you.

CRISTCH.

W-What...Involuntary tears of pain made it difficult to see where the wound was until the pain pinpointed somewhere around your right kidney.  What just...?

"Good, right where I want you."  Scaramouche began to stalk over with his catalyst floating closely behind him, eyes glinting with satisfaction at the growing spot of blood at your abdomen.

"The tree..ngh..."  What do I do? What do I do? I'm pinned.  I can't--I can't think straight--

"Hey girlie, hold still."  TWISH.  The firing of an arrow rudely interrupted the battlefield and the force of his elemental burst knocked your opponent off his feet.  The voice of a dangerous man shouldn't have been this comforting.

"C-Childe?  What the hell are you--"

"What the HELL are you doing?!"  Scaramouche readied his catalyst and sat up prepared for 'friendly' fire.  Anger practically radiated off of him.

"Making amends.  What does it look like?"  The harbinger emerged from somewhere behind you and moved so that he was between you and your opponent.

"What...?"  Your whisper reached his ears, and Childe glanced at you briefly.

"What a gorgeous sight you make, ojou-chan!  Your blood on the snow is simply breathtaking."  The friendliness in his eyes emptied.  "Unfortunately, I'll have to cut my admiration short.  Can you move?"

"Ngh, I think so.  Give me a minute."

"Perfect," he returned his attention to his fellow harbinger.  "Sorry to interrupt, but you won't be killing her today.  And I have to say, Scaramouche, I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

#genshin impact #childe genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #say my name and ill be there #xiao fanfiction #fanfiction #genshin impact xiao #wesimpforxiao

[blu-joons]

DAD 2PM A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Jang Wooyoung

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Whenever he could, Wooyoung would be around you and hugging you tightly. He can’t get enough of you and your bump, making sure that he’s there to always remind you how incredible you look with plenty of affection.

B ⇴ BUMP

Your bump is Wooyoung’s biggest pride, he loves to show it off whenever the two of you are in public and make sure that everyone knows that he’s an expecting dad. You can only shake your head in disbelief at the wide smile on his face every time he spots someone so much as looking in your direction, knowing exactly where they’re looking.

C ⇴ CRAVINGS

The boys had told you several times about how in love they were with Wooyoung’s ramen, but you never understood it, until you fell pregnant. It suddenly became a meal that you couldn’t get enough of, as soon as Wooyoung came home most evenings you were suddenly onto him, begging for him to make you ramen, several portions of it too.

D ⇴ DUE DATE

Your due date was certainly always in the back of Wooyoung’s mind, especially when he was organising his schedule. He was never one to turn down an opportunity, and no matter how good of a chance it was too, Wooyoung knew that he needed to be at home, and he needed to be a dad, and so reluctantly he’d decline. He didn’t care about the consequences either, those dates were busy with something much more exciting anyway.

E ⇴ EMOTIONS

Wooyoung had always hoped one day to have a child, to be able to pass on everything that he’d learnt to his little one and show them the world. But never did Wooyoung expect that having a child would make him as emotional as your pregnancy had. Most nights he found himself completely overwhelmed whenever he laid down beside your bump, struggling to understand how he ever got so lucky in life.

F ⇴ FAMILY

Spending time with your families was most important to you both whilst you were pregnant, allowing them to see you whilst you were pregnant and do all of the things that you wanted to do before your baby arrived too. Both of your families were beyond excited for the two of you and were keen to squeeze as much time out of the two of you as they possibly could before your priorities began to lie elsewhere.

G ⇴ GENDER

You couldn’t deny Wooyoung the chance to find out what you were having when the sonographer asked you both. From the very start he had been hoping for a little girl, praying in fact that he’d have his wish granted, and as his eyes looked to you in hope, you weren’t cruel enough to make him wait any longer to find out.

H ⇴ HEARTBEAT

The beat of your baby’s heart always filled Wooyoung’s heart with a lot of emotion, and yet somehow, he’d manage to hold it together. However, as soon as the two of you got back to the car, he would allow his tears to fall, excited and proud that his baby was growing so healthily and happily inside your bump.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Wooyoung loved to remind you that he loved you with plenty of gestures that would bring a smile to your face. He paid close attention to all of the things that you loved, especially whilst you were pregnant, often going out of his way to get them for you to make sure that you knew how thankful he was for everything that you were doing.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

There were a few times when Wooyoung would find himself getting jealous, especially if he was getting teased about becoming a dad. He hated whenever someone tried to rain on his parade, but he couldn’t help but let things get to him, even though he was so excited. Most others wouldn’t realise, but you would, the way his smile would drop would be enough for you to know that he’d let meaningless comments get under his skin.

K ⇴ KICKS

His hands would always rest against the left side of your bump as Wooyoung had figured that was the side that your baby loved to kick the most. From his many nights of feeling kicks he’d managed to deduce the most likely spot, and therefore claimed that spot as the place where he would always rest his hands at night.

L ⇴ LABOUR

Wooyoung hated seeing you go through labour, no matter how many times he tried to assure himself about it throughout your pregnancy, he could never prepare himself for how terrifying the real thing would be. Although he tried to be there for you, you could see the panic in his eyes every time that you looked across at him, unsure as to which one of the two of you was actually more scared.

M ⇴ MORNING SICKNESS

Whilst Wooyoung was far from a fan of sick, he knew that was something that he needed to put to one side in order to be there for you. Even once your battle with morning sickness was over, Wooyoung still hated it, unable to find his relief when he could go back to waking up without the sound of retching greeting him.

N ⇴ NURSERY

Your nursery was the one thing that Wooyoung was keen to work on, he had plenty of ideas in his head for themes and accessories, and after plenty of planning, those ideas ended up creating the perfect nursery for your baby.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

Wooyoung was obsessed with your walk, he couldn’t help but fall in love with how you carried yourself, especially as you neared the end of your pregnancy, having to manoeuvre yourself around something almost every other step.

P ⇴ POST BIRTH

After you gave birth, Wooyoung was very conscious of the fact that you loved to run before you could walk. As soon as you got home, he placed you in bed with your baby, promising you that you could trust in him to take care of the house for a little whilst you recovered and took care of your little one too.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

Wooyoung loved to tease you by letting you know that he was going to prepare ramen for himself at various points in the day, waiting until you were practically desperate before offering if you wanted him to make you one too.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Your pregnancy gave Wooyoung the perfect inspiration that he needed to get busy in the studio as he tried to write songs in preparation for whenever the next comeback would be. Fatherhood had given him experiences he’d never gone through before, gifting him plenty of material to try and combine into something special.

S ⇴ SCANS

He loved whenever you were given a scan photo at the end of appointments, looking down at in his hand in awe. His eyes would often flicker between the photo and your bump as he tried to correlate that such a small little thing was growing inside of you, especially with how strong its kicks were against you as well.

T ⇴ TEST

Your pregnancy was a complete accident, you hadn’t planned to fall pregnant quite so soon, but neither of you could deny how happy you were when your test came back as pregnant to become parents together.

U ⇴ ULTRASOUND

Wooyoung was with you for every appointment, he loved to listen to all of the information, absorbing it in and acting upon all of the advice you were given.

V ⇴ VISITS

Once Wooyoung was confident that you were feeling back to your usual self again, he doon began to invite your family’s round to meet your little one, not quite ready to venture out into the big wide world with your baby quite so soon.

W ⇴ WAITING

Most of the time, Wooyoung wasn’t patient at all, he couldn’t wait for your baby to arrive and to throw himself into fatherhood.

X ⇴ XXXX

Whenever he had the chance, Wooyoung would kiss you, he couldn’t help himself, especially whilst you were pregnant too. He was completely in awe, and always keen to let you know just how amazing he thought you were.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were a blessing for Wooyoung, he never quite knew what he did to deserve you.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

He loved to go to sleep whilst humming along to a song to try and keep your baby nice and calmed by the sound of his voice, never stopping until he was able to glance up from beside your bump and see that you were asleep.

---

Masterlist

#2pm #2pm imagine #wooyoung #wooyoung imagine #jang wooyoung #jang wooyoung imagine #2pm scenario #2pm reaction #2pm headcanon #2pm wooyoung #2pm drabble #2pm one shot #2pm fluff #wooyoung scenario #wooyoung reaction #wooyoung drabble #wooyoung one shot #wooyoung fluff #kpop #kpop imagine

[aressss1]

Through Fire and Ice

(Technoblade x Reader) 

Chapter 1

Next Chapter

~~~~~~

They had caused this… An ice age the likes no one had ever seen before. A world thrown out of whack… The party of four, Philza, Technoblade, Tommy, and Tubbo had slain the dragon in the end realm. The final blow dealt to the neck of the dragon; had brought on a chill they had never felt before. Though they didn’t truly recognize what had happened until they got back to the overworld. Tommy and Tubbo had jumped through the portal first. Technoblade had stayed back looking toward his friend Phil.

 Every breath they took could be seen due to the cold, but Phil was not bothered too much by it. He had read many scriptures leading up to this moment. As he excitedly looked out into the void, his hands on his hips. The pink haired man walked to Phil’s side. Phil’s eyes shined as he looked over at Techno, a smile gracing his lips.

“Hey mate.” Phil greeted Technoblade, “We did it!” Philza beamed putting his hand out as if to grasp onto something that just wasn’t there. “Do you know what lies just beyond that void?” Techno cocked his head to the side.

 “Uuuuuuhhhh” Techno said in a monotone voice, thinking but nothing came to him. “I have absolutely no clue.” Techno shrugged his shoulders crossing his arms, hoping that would help warm him up somehow.

 “There are cities out there, Techno,” Philza mused, “Filled with exceedingly rare items, just ripe for the taking!”

 “Heh?” Techno looked through the pig skull he wore as a mask, at Phil bewildered looking out into the void. There was nothing but an inky blackness, the thought of it made his head spin. “Who do you think made those cities? Are they still there? Do you think they’ll let us just run off with their items?” Philza just shook his head.

 “The scriptures read, that these cities are abandoned, I’m almost certain of it.” Philza pulled out a scroll from his robes, unraveling it to read it. “They do have some very… interesting defenses, so do be careful.” Phil added after a moment of reading.

 “Uh huh…” Techno looked over the edge slightly leaning over it kicking a rock with his shoe into the void. “There’s just one flaw to your plan…” Techno looked back to Phil, “How do you plan to get over there?” Phil donned a playful smirk, handing Techno building materials.

 “How ‘bout a race old friend?” Phil had challenged, watching the smile widen on Techno’s face.

 “Perhaps…” Techno was already getting into position to start the race and they once they both were ready, they started building out toward the void, starting their search for the valuables the scriptures had promised them.

 -

 In the overworld, Tommy and Tubbo were chattering talking about how cool that fight with the dragon was. Tommy was boasting about how cool he was.

 “I am massive Tubbo, that dragon has never seen the likes of me before!” Tommy proclaimed jerked a thumb toward his chest. Tubbo gave a confused look tilting his head, his hand coming up in a questioning gesture.

 “Didn’t Techno have to help get a hoard of endermen off of you?” Tubbo innocently inquired, causing Tommy to bust up in nervous laughter.

 “Listen- Tub-Tubbo,” Tommy feigned his confidence, “It’s all a part of the plan!” Tommy gave a wide smile to his best friend, “I had to help get them off Philza, Big Man.” Tubbo still looked confused as they walked up the stairs to exit the stronghold.

 “Mmmm, but weren’t you screaming for both Phil and Techno to help you?” Tubbo asked, and he was immediately hushed by tommy.

 “Listen, that was just me stroking Technoblades ego, it’s very fragile you know!” Tommy declared and he finally had a sigh of relief when Tubbo shrugged and didn’t press further on the subject. “You were great too big man!” Tommy nudged Tubbo in the arm. “It wasn’t easy breaking those crystals.” Tubbo nodded in response but started rubbing down his arms trying to get warm, his breath coming out in puffs of steam.

 “Aren’t we in a desert?” Tubbo asked his teeth started to chatter. As they got closer to the surface, the colder it got. Tommy rubbed his hands together trying to use his breath to warm up his fingers. Tommy nodded, just as confused as Tubbo.

 When they had reached the entrance of the stronghold and they were at the surface and their eyes widened at the snowy sight before them.

 “Snow!” Tubbo squealed out happily, there wasn’t too much snow sticking to the sandy ground, but they could definitely start to catch the snowflakes on their tongues. The two boys ran forward laughing and playing in the ever-growing winter wonderland.

 -

 You found yourself sitting below a tree reading your book in the shade, it was a normal day. The day was warm, and you found yourself enjoying the occasional breeze that would roll through. You often came to this spot to read whatever book took your fancy, sighing contentedly you let your fingers stroke over the pages of the book. Opening the book to where your bookmark was, you started reading.

The rustle of the leaves in the tree calmed you as the branches swayed with the wind. You could even hear distant clucking from a nearby chicken. Stretching out in the shade of your tree, your eyes scanned over the words of your book. There was no other place you would rather be right now.

You had lost track of time, and the thing that was able to knock you out of your trance was a sound… You didn’t know how to describe it, but the sound came from a distant land it seemed. It was… discomforting. Something was happening and you didn’t know exactly what. Looking around everything seemed normal. You were in the forest, with no one around. It sounded extremely far off… But you didn’t know if it was a good sound or not. Nothing else happened after that so you shrug it off.

 Before too long, you had forgotten about the sound, putting your nose right back into that book again. But this time around twenty minutes later, you had gotten cold, and that was what tore you away from the book. Looking around once more you were able to catch the first few snowflakes to fall to the ground. Unbeknownst to you a thick fog had rolled in around you as well.

 “Wha-?” You whispered to yourself quietly. You slowly got up feeling your bones give off a crack sound from the movement. Stretching you put your book in your book bag and left in the direction of your home. You were a little annoyed being that you were almost done with your book, but it was time that you got a move on with your day at this point. You had to get home and get a fire started in your cottage so that you wouldn’t be cold.

 It was weird how fast the chill had crept up on the day in summer, and you had a worrying thought about the sound that you heard from the distance. Maybe the two had correlated… But you couldn’t be too sure, you had never heard that noise before.

 The fog rolled in heavily as minutes passed by and you couldn’t see a foot past your face. This was worrying… One wrong turn and you would be heading the opposite direction from your house. That thought terrified you. Considering the closest village was miles away from you, and that was if you were heading in the right direction. You hadn’t scouted the other directions yet. You were still new to the area…

 Feeling a twinge of annoyance at your now runny nose, you stopped and looked around hoping there was something that you could identify. Nothing but the nearby trees caught your attention in the haze. The snowflakes seemingly got much larger in the passing minutes and they had no trouble sticking to the ground. You decided to just keep going. You had to keep moving so you wouldn’t freeze.

 You had willed yourself to go just a bit more through what was becoming a fully-fledged snowstorm. Fingers and toes were starting to ache. Had you known that it was going to snow today, you wouldn’t have opted to wear summer clothing, the shorts and tank top were not helping in any case. One thing was for sure, you were going to find somewhere to get out of this snowstorm, be it your own cottage or someone else’s, you were going to get there.

 -

 Philza and Techno were back at the end portal their inventories filled to the brim with treasures. Winglike contraptions strapped to their backs, made it possible for them to fly, or at least glide through the air. This was the main item Philza had been looking for, and Techno was glad to be here for the expedition. Techno had even let out a high pitch gasp in delight when they had found a second, as Phil called it, Elytra for Techno.

 “Aye mate,” Philza tapped Techno on the shoulder, “Ya think we should take the egg?” He pointed to the egg on top of the bedrock pillar.

 “Does it count as an orphan?” Techno grinned amused as Phil busted up laughing.

 “I suppose so,” Phil chuckled as he quickly built up to the egg, careful not to fall into the portal below.

 “This is going to be the ultimate orphan trophy,” Techno mused as he watched Phil reach out to take the egg. But before Phil could get a finger on the egg… It was gone.

 Phil let out a very confused and loud “What!?” before looking around for the egg further, it had teleported just few feet away, untouched. Techno laughed at Phil who climbed down from the pillar.

 “You just got denied!” Techno taunted, wafting away some stray hair from his face. Phil puffed out a sigh and pulled out his scrolls to see if he had missed anything about the egg. Techno looked over the man’s shoulder. He couldn’t read anything on the scroll, that was Philza’s department… Even so… That wasn’t the language villagers usually spoke.

 “Mmmm, seems like we can’t interact with it ourselves mate.” Philza’s hand covered his mouth in thought. “I have a plan,” Philza grabbed his bag and walked over to the egg. “Techno, dig out just enough for the egg to fall into the bag.”

 “Alright.” Grabbing his pickaxe, he dug out just enough of the end stone for the egg to topple over safely into Philza’s bag.

 “There we go!” Philza beamed holding the bag up. The top of the egg could barely be seen. He closed up the bag and strapped it over his shoulder. “Let’s get back to the boys, I’m tired of this chill in the air.”

 “We gotta pack extra clothes when we come back for the other cities,” Techno mused pulling his blue cloak around him to help stave off the chill. Phil grunted in agreement and he made his way back to the portal. With one step into the portal, he was gone.

 Techno lingered for a moment, his eyes searching the darkness. Had the dragon killed the inhabitants of the cities? Or… Was it something else? This realm was lonely, he wasn’t sure he wanted to come back here. The deafening silence was eerie. Shaking his head, he jumped through the portal. His eyes closed; he felt his stomach turn into knots. His body flew out of the other side of the portal and he orientated himself to land on his feet, though he kneeled when he felt his feet touch the floor to keep his balance.

 “Everything good mate?” Phil asked extending his hand to Techno, who took it nodding his thanks. “Good.” Making sure they had everything, they opt to go up the stairs. At a certain point they could hear the boys outside playing and laughing.

 “Am I missing something here? Why is it cold in the middle of the desert?” Techno asked with an edge to his voice. Something definitely wasn’t right. Phil shrugged looking on with an equally worried expression. The entrance they had dug had flurries of snow covering the first few steps.

 “It’s the middle of summer at that…” Phil hurried his step, when the two men had gotten to the surface they were met with the sight of Tommy and Tubbo having a snowball fight. The boys peered over at them excitedly. They both ran up to Phil and Techno sizing up their new gear.

 “So that’s what you’ve been up to,” Tommy pouted his eyes wandering over the elytras on Phil and Techno’s backs. “Why didn’t take us,” Tommy whined motioning to himself and Tubbo. “I want… Whatever that thing is.”

 “Tommy, I hear you, but I really don’t think it’s the time for that,” Phil put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, as he looked around the snowy area. “We need to get back home.” Tommy scoffed but before he could retort Techno chimed in.

 “We don’t want to hear it Tommy, something is going on and we need to figure out what.” Techno looked toward Phil. Ignoring Tommy muttering to himself about how it was unfair that they got all the cool loot, and he didn’t. “We need to talk to the others and make a plan of action if this storm doesn’t stop,” Phil nodded, “I’m going to get some supplies, take them home and call the others for a meetin’.” The plan was set, and everyone headed off on their journeys.

 ~~

 Techno was in a bit of a bind. He was stuck in fog, and there were strays shooting at him from all directions. He didn’t know where an arrow would come from next. Some even got close enough to hit him using melee. Their ability to slow their enemies was annoying but Techno made quick work of them for the most part.  He knew he was on the right path to his cottage.

 An agonized scream echoed out, making Techno’s head snap up, his heart dropped, and he trudged further. His steps taking their sweet time as he was still affected with slowness. He listened for anything but didn’t hear another noise other than the crunching snow under his feet, but he soon found red droplets in the snow. Someone out here was injured… Following the trail of blood, he eventually found a body in the snow.

 You were riddled in arrows, breathing shallowly, lying face down in the snow. Unfastening his cloak, he wrapped you in the clothing and lifted your body with ease. You made some sounds of protest, which caused him to believe you were awake.

 “Stay with me okay?” His deep voice called to you, causing your eyes to flutter open and meet his. You were having trouble keeping focus. Your eyes skimming over the mask he wore on his face. Fear courses through you. “You will be okay.” He reassures you; he can see your fear. He doesn’t blame you; it would be off-putting to be hurt, and to suddenly be carried by a man you didn’t know who was wearing a boar skull as a mask. You let out a little sigh, your body going limp in his arms.

 Techno looked around, this had brought him off course, but he kept his compass on him, pointing to a lodestone he had in his house. Reading the compass, he trudges on, with you in his arms, still dodging arrows. It wasn’t too long of a walk before he suddenly had the cottage in his view, and he kicks the door open. Hurriedly he sets you down onto the floor next to the fireplace. Quickly lighting a fire, he searches his chests for any and all health potions.

 He was going to have to pull all those arrows out of you, one by one. He wasn’t looking forward to it. He peeled the bloody cloak off your body, examining your wounds. He sighed in relief. Your wounds could be easily healed with his potions. He counted three arrows stuck in your legs in all directions and two in your back. Your skin was frostbitten, and your lips were blue.

 Clipping the arrows shorter he made quick work, of the ones in your back. If they had hit any deeper, he would have been worried. Even so, your blood started to pool on his cloak that lie beneath you. Splashing a health potion on your back closed the wounds but they left definite scars. Now he was onto the arrows in your legs. He tended to the wounds in your legs just as he did with the ones in your back.

 Looking down at his handy work, blood all over his hands, he pushed back thoughts, the voices that liked to plague his mind coming back for a split second. Hands shaking, he got up to wash his hands, only to find that the pipes had been frozen. With an irritated sigh he grabbed a bucket and started filling the cauldron above his fire with snow.

 You were caked in blood and he wanted to have a bath ready for you when you woke up, he didn’t like seeing blood smeared on anyone, not even himself, as it just made the voices in his head stronger. He had tended to Tommy like this once upon a time when Tommy had overestimated himself and he fell from a cliff. Back then he didn’t have control over the voices like he did now. The memory made him shudder.

 Sighing he searched his fridge; you both were going to be here for a while, and you were going to need to regain your strength.  He had a good supply of potatoes, steak and carrots, that could keep the two of you going for a few days. To Techno, you didn’t seem like a fighter, so he wasn’t too worried you were going to stab him in the back but who knew, maybe he was wrong. If he was… Then he would be ready.

 Either way, the both of you had time to get to know each other.

#technoblade x reader #technoblade/reader #c!techno x reader #techno fanfic #c!techno #angst #Through Fire and Ice #mcyt x reader

[lizbotw]

it’s only sharing a disgustingly sweet milkshake at the local college town diner after both of your evening classes that suna graciously provides the answers to the math homework.

the spongy pencil eraser is easy for you to sink your teeth into as you puzzle over his handwriting. “you know,” you mumble around the nib, trying to figure out if that’s a 5 or a 6, “i never know why you do this to me every week.” this time the drink with two plastic straws floating in an unhealthy heaping of whip cream is a syrupy strawberry flavor.

rintarou tips forward to sip at one of them and in your peripheral, chunky pink-coated fruit pieces travel up the clear tube and disappear between his lips. he releases the straw with an annoying ah that makes you frown, even if you weren’t concentrating in the first place. “aw, don’t tell me you don’t like hanging out with me.” he feigns hurt.

a well placed sip of your own allows you to avoid having to answer that—you have a personal rule of never being sappy in the presence of calculus. if you didn’t like him, suna knows you wouldn’t be hanging out with him—there are just some things you can’t do, even if it’s for the sake of your grade. none of this has to be said out loud of course, but he decides to be annoying and ask anyway.

actually—well... maybe hanging out is... not exactly how this appears to bystanders.

sharing a drink like this, you two probably look more like a couple on a (terribly cheap) afternoon date, rather than two broke college students that split meals to save money and believe that sharing answers for homework isn’t cheating, it’s collaboration.

ha, as if it would ever be different—things like the former never come true. maybe in movies, but that’s about where the line is drawn.

as if he knows what you’re thinking, suna raises an eyebrow at you over the glass, a smile playing on his lips—the same stupid look he always gives you. it feels particularly worse this evening.

it’s hard to avoid eye contact with him mere inches away, but you manage when a car painted a very interesting shade of red rumbles past the fingerprint covered window. you’re grateful for the distraction.

the subject changes when you realize suna has terrible taste when it comes to ordering milkshakes. “what flavor is this?” you spit out the word as though the very concept of calling this a real flavor is more disgusting than the drink itself, smacking your lips and screwing up your face at the excessively saccharine, artificial strawberry aftertaste.

this is no ordinary strawberry milkshake. no, this is a so-bad-only-suna-rintarou-would-order-something-this-horrible-(and-not-necessarily-on-purpose-either) strawberry milkshake.

“valentine’s valor,” he states matter-of-factly like those words mean anything to you. you stare at him until he elaborates. “their valentine’s special,” he clarifies and is gifted with a sarcastic thumbs-up from you in thanks—it is pointedly ignored and suna slings an arm over back of his seat. “dunno the exact flavor though. forgot.”

it tastes like the embodiment of pink, you decide. valentine’s valor. what a stupid name. there are a million and one better words that start with v... you can name at least five with a little thinking. you should ask them to hire you as part of their marketing team, you decide.

maybe it’s fitting title though. you certainly need valor to even think about taking another sip of that... concoction—which you do because you are obsessed with getting your money’s worth.

“valentine’s day was half a week ago?” your mental calendar helpfully supplies.

the clatter of pans in the back kitchen somehow mingles charmingly with the way rintarou throws his head back to laugh—a scene straight out of a movie really. you decide you hate him in the moment. “right you are. want a prize?” ugh. you stick your tongue out at his tone.

great. as if to add insult to injury, of course you’re sharing an out-of-date love holiday special with suna of all people. valentine’s was four days ago and this is where you are on a thursday night. the sticky upholstery of the booth seat, ripped and fraying at the corners, squeaks and groans and attaches itself to the fabric of your jeans as you shift around, suddenly hot. what a strange situation to be in, you think. this has to be a metaphor for life—then again, you’d been thinking this whole... thing has been a metaphor anyway.

yup, ever since suna sat next to you in a calculus II lecture all those fated months ago and took pity on how much you fucking sucked at math, up until the present where he takes slightly less pity on you but does enjoy emptying your dorm mini-fridge and making you pay for his milkshakes—all of it. this entire thing with him. one big stupid metaphor.

the specifics of how you came to have a routine like this are certainly murky, but two things are for certain—one, your calculus grade is certainly a lot better than it would have been otherwise, and two, you have one friend more than you did at the start of the school year. (that last one is kind of a big deal, you think. the college social scene is brutal. the word friend has started to become more disappointing than exhilarating lately though.)

rin reaches to your left to pick at the fries you’d ordered as a side—you’ve learned not to try and stop him. “also,” he adds, mouth full, “you’re totally getting me a new pencil after this.” yes, true, the pencil you’re currently leaving frustrated teeth marks all over isn’t yours. very easy to forget in the moment. you’ve probably destroyed 15 of his pencils by now for the 15 weeks of the last semester—only 7 so far for the current one. you do the mental math.

instead of drawing in the sharp lines of the differential equation that should be going in the question box, you lightly trace in the curves of a 2 and then another one next to it in the corner of the worksheet, graphite underlining them both in one swoop. the horribly thin paper of the school library’s printer is scratchy as you write but soon you flip the pencil over and under your fingers to tap the eraser (that has seen better days) just below what you wrote. “this is pencil number 22.”

suna leans over to look at the number as if you hadn’t just told him what it said. what an idiot. “glad you’re keeping count.” he settles back into his seat. “when can i expect my reimbursement?”

“you’re funny,” you say, without a hint of humor in your voice. the pretty 22 you had written now has flower petals growing off of the sides as you get distracted doodling along the edges of your work. it’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, or maybe as he takes the chance while you’re distracted to shove more french fries down his throat—either option is plausible and you don’t lift your eyes to check.

something occurs to you.

“rin.” you take an extended pause in between the words as you continue drawing, just to annoy him. you don’t continue speaking until he grumbles in acknowledgment (you try to hide your smile). “do you ever doodle in your notebooks?” now that you thought about it, suna was surprisingly pretty straight-laced when it came to class—you couldn’t ever recall him ever slacking off to the degree that meant his pages were filled with hearts and stars and flowers and suns and atomically inaccurate animals and tiny people in different colored ink. your work was always certainly the more vibrant out of the two (perhaps that could explain your grades and how you understand like... nothing in your lectures, but you decide correlation does not equal causation).

“waste of time,” he says around another mouthful of fries, another one already halfway there to his mouth.

suna is also surprisingly negative at times—but the blue book flipped open to his homework says maybe he’s just a liar though. you squint at it.

“it’s still pretty early but we probably should get out of here soon,” suna says, pulling his phone out from his pocket to check the time and leaning his elbows on the table. “i’ll walk you back. your roomie doesn’t leave the gym until 9—before you ask, yes i’ve been keeping track. it’s not stalking if it’s for my own sake.”—rin is, of course, referring to the long standing rivalry between him and your (very nice, might you add) roommate you don’t really understand but which has cumulated in him deciding he would avoid them as much as humanly possible purely out of spite. (“the only person i like in dorm 302 is you,” he’d told you one time and the throwaway sentence maybe made your heart flutter more than it probably should’ve.)

the bell above the front door jingles behind you as another patron enters. rin glances up at the sound and then returns to his phone with a bored bat of his eyes, probably scrolling through twitter or replying to texts, and picking at his teeth with a toothpick (where did he even get that?).

you try to get back to work (copying) but something in your gut tells you there’s more to his notebook than the messy handwriting and crossed out words that meet the eye.

with suna distracted, you take the chance to carefully slide the book towards you and then, in a single quick swipe, pull it into your lap under the table, already leafing to the back pages—everyone knows that’s where the real secrets are—not sure what to expect. a flash of color makes you pause and you flip back to a page that has the corner folded into a tiny, crisp triangle.

whatever you were thinking suna had stashed in the back of his calculus notebook certainly does not match up with what’s staring you in the face currently. sparkly, gel-inked hearts in neon colors glitter under the fluorescent overheads. in each of them, written in capital letters neater than you thought possible for suna, is your initials, a small plus sign in the middle, and then S.R. (for none other than suna rinatoru) next to it. it instantly makes sense to you. “rin, what the fuck.” one side of the book dangles from your hand, pages fluttering, and you hold it up for him to see, other hand flying to cover your mouth because you don’t know whether to laugh or pretend to be mortified or what.

it’s very amusing to watch how suna goes from a disinterested stare, to widened eyes, to reaching over the heaps of school supplies to attempt to grab the book from you, frantic. you hold it just out of reach. “what are you—” an old lady at a table shushes him when he half-screams. “—give that back,” suna whisper-yells instead in the greatest verbal equivalent of tiny caps you’ve ever heard.

“not a chance.”

he looks like he wants to lunge across the table and pry his prized possession from your meddling hands, but also has half the mind not to make a scene. getting kicked out and then subsequently banned from his favorite diner all on a noise complaint and disorderly conduct accusation was not ideal.

you hum, flip back to your place, and observe the drawings covering the lined pages. you shoot him a venomous smirk over the edge of the cover, one that’s more theatrics than anything, and say with all the satisfaction of someone who knows they have all the power, “oh, this is gold.” he deflates and you feel grateful he doesn’t see right through your facade because oh man are you sweating inside right now. what the fuck? no way suna rintarou is drawing little hearts with both of your initials in it like a lovesick middle schooler. no fucking way. you almost want to tell him that you did the same thing once when the thoughts about him had gotten especially bad (you felt guilty afterwards though, thinking you never had a chance with him, but... now... if he’s doing the same—well, that kind of changes everything).

suna is utterly defeated you think—doesn’t even try to defend himself, just slumps in his seat with a groan. you at least expected a “i can explain!” from him, a last attempt at dignity, not the resigned “i’m never going to live this down, am i?” he mumbles after a few seconds. well, either works for you.

“nope,” you quip, maybe a little too cheerfully because the response you receive is a distressed wail and him banging his head against the table. the old lady shushes him again. you chuckle at that (it feels a little wobbly though because once again, freaking out here) and flip the page. you stop.

this one has similar perfect little hearts drawn all over it, but there are other things. cute, standard shaky drawings of misshapen dogs and volleyballs and other things you never thought suna would take it upon himself to create but all of which make sense are there. but there’s something else. little scribbles in the corners with your last name swapped with his and even him trying out his name with your last one—all of them are scratched out but not so much you can’t read them. a list on the right in a very tiny font that makes you think he was embarrassed even penning the words is titled “date ideas?” (the question mark is in red and the dot is a heart) and has several popular spots around town written down in the local lingo of unofficial names for them.

“listen... please let’s forget about this.” rin’s voice is muffled and he’s still faceplanted. “it’s fine if you don’t... you know... yeah.” if you don’t feel that way, he means. true, the doodles were a pretty good indication of his feelings.

what to do...

well... you take pity on him, let your lips upturn and your eyes soften to reflect the sentiment, and shut the book with a quiet thud. you slide it back across the table from where it came and back to him silently. you give it a resounding pat when suna peeks up at you, expression saying it all—he was so going to get you back for this. you stick your tongue out—acceptance of the challenge. and just like that, you’re friends again—maybe that’s what’s so great about suna.

as you get ready to leave and slowly begin the trek back to the dorm buildings with him, street lamps glimmering a pasty yellow, there’s no awkward tension, no need to ask questions, no verbal wonderings about what ifs between you two. it’s just joking and shoving each other around and challenges to see who can run to the next tree the fastest in the middle of the chilly february night. you know, maybe for now you’ll keep your own thoughts a secret.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #happy birthday to me 🎉 #<<< the way i typed that tag so long ago and now look what day it is #extras #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #hq imagines #i accidentally deleted part of this b4 i can’t believe #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! scenarios #hq scenarios #why did this take me so long to write + it’s so dumb this is embarrassing #hq!! x reader #suna imagines #suna scenarios #haikyuu fluff #suna rintarou

[waitineedaname]

Benrey knew about bouquets theoretically.

They were what the winners got in some sports games, and they were bought by sitcom boyfriends when they’d fucked up with their girlfriends. They were bundles of flowers that held some kind of meaning that was really beyond Benrey.

The thing was, he never saw one in person until months after they’d all made it out of Black Mesa. They were all at the Boomer household, throwing them an anniversary party. No one was quite sure if it was their one year anniversary or fiftieth anniversary -- neither of them would give anyone a clear answer -- but Bubby had presented his husband with an enormous bouquet of flowers, trying and failing to appear like anything but a sappy fool. 

Benrey was fascinated by it.

Xen didn’t have flowers. There were plant-adjacent things, sure, but most of them tried to stab passersby or emitted poisonous gasses. Benrey was sitting on a barstool next to the bouquet in its vase on the countertop, and he had yet to be stabbed by the dethorned roses, and the sprigs of lavender didn’t emit anything except a soothing scent that reminded him of the hand lotion Gordon wouldn’t let him eat. He gently ran his fingers over the layers of carnation petals while Coomer spoke beside him.

“-language of flowers was introduced to England in the early 18th century by Mary Wortley, Lady Montague, whose husband was Ambassador to Turkey. By the Victorian era, almost every-”

“Flowers have a language?” Benrey said, looking up and zoning back into the Wikipedia infodump. 

“Yes!” Dr. Coomer informed him brightly. “Floriography (language of flowers) is a means of cryptological communication through the use or arrangement of flowers. Meaning has been attributed to flowers for thousands of years, and some form of floriography has been practiced in traditional cultures throughout Europe, Asia, and Africa. In Western culture, William Shakespeare ascribed emblematic meanings to flowers, especially in Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. Similarly, in a scene in his Henry VI, Part 1, English noblemen pick either red or white roses to symbolize their allegiance to the Houses-” 

“So different colors have different meanings? Like, uh. Like Sweet Voice?”

“Yeah!” Tommy answered him this time, Dr. Coomer too busy telling the rest of them about Victorian flower meanings. “And- And each kind of flower has a different meaning too. It’s like a whole language!”

Benrey stared at the bundle of flowers in front of him. He sang out a Sweet Voice note the exact shade of one of the scabiosas and smiled.

He didn’t tell anyone his plan when he started. Something told him that would ruin it somehow. It felt more meaningful to have it be a surprise. He did his research in private. Wikipedia may be gone, but there were still plenty of websites eager to inform him of all the strange meanings Victorians applied to flowers. (What the hell was “assiduous to please” supposed to mean?) He stayed up after Tommy and Gordon had gone to bed, and sang notes of Sweet Voice as softly as he could, searching for the right correlations between flowers and Sweet Voice colors.

A bouquet arrived on Bubby and Coomer’s doorstep first. Cheerful American starworts and chrysanthemums wrapped in convolvulus, accompanied by sprigs of larch and black poplar. (White like sagebud to misty golden, you’re a bold one. Morning glory, I’m glad you got through this story. Black poplar to yellow larch, I’ll follow where you charge.) Bubby was wildly confused by its appearance, but the next time he saw them, Coomer took Benrey under his arm and gave him a noogie that would’ve drilled a hole into anyone else’s skull.

Gordon and Tommy’s came next, and Benrey made sure they arrived at the same time. Gordon was the one to find them, having opened the door to two bouquets addressed to the two of them. “Uh, Tommy?” He called out over his shoulder, picking up his bouquet and examining it. Bright Peruvian heliotropes peered out from between hundred-leaved roses and pencil-leaved geraniums, all surrounded by southernwood and Irish ivy. (Purple as heliotrope, you give me hope. Geranium to rosy pink, I’ll love you forever, I think. Green as ivy and southernwood, for you, I’ll be good.) “Do you know anything about this?”

“No,” Tommy said, walking up behind him and peering over his shoulder. When Gordon stepped aside for him, he scooped up his bouquet too. His was entirely made of flowers, a bright splash of color: the warm colors of the red periwinkles and scarlet lychnis offset by the American cowslips and traveller’s joys. (Scarlet, with you, my worries I forget. Purple like cowslip, I think you’re smart as a whip. White, you make my life bright.) “Benrey, do you- did you do this?” 

“Nah, man.” Benrey shrugged, hands in his pockets. “Y’all must have, uh. Some kinda secret admirer, or something.”

Tommy stared at him for a long moment, and Benrey could swear he saw the wheels turning in Tommy’s head, but if he was going to say anything, he was distracted by Gordon ushering them into the kitchen to find vases.

He was hunched over his laptop that night again, trying to figure out if he could feasibly make a tiny arrangement of sorrel, bearded crepis, and juniper to put on Joshua’s bedside table (Green to juniper blue, I’ll protect you. Yellow, I’m proud of this tiny fellow) without Gordon accusing him for bringing weeds in the house, when a voice broke the relative silence of the living room. 

“Ben?” Gordon said groggily. Benrey jumped in his seat and sang out a string of surprised teal. “You’ve been coming to bed late like every night this week, what’s up.”

“Uh, nothing. Just… browsing. Making deals on… eBay.” Benrey bluffed. Gordon squinted at him, clearly not believing the lie, then glanced at the laptop screen.

“Are those flowers?”

“...What are flowers.”

Gordon snorted and draped himself over the back of the couch. “I fucking knew it. You’re not sneaky, dude.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What are flowers.”

Gordon flicked the side of his head. “Why were you keeping the bouquet thing a secret?”

“I dunno.” Benrey looked away, embarrassed. “Thought it’d be a fun surprise.”

Gordon chuckled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I never expected you to be the sentimental type.”

“Didja like them, though?” Benrey looked up, hopeful.

“Obviously. I put them on the kitchen table, they’re beautiful.” Gordon straightened up and reached for Benrey’s hands. “Now c’mon, Gordon want cuddles.”

“Gordon want cuddles? Cuddles from Benrey?” Benrey teased, taking Gordon’s hands and standing. “What about Tommy?”

“Tommy also want cuddles. He’s the one who told me to go get you.” Gordon said, pulling him up the stairs to their room. “Also, he figured out the flower meanings. Why the hell is there a plant for bantering?”

“The Victorias knew banter is important to any relationship, man. It’s like you don’t even understand enemies-to-lovers, smh.”

“Stop saying abbreviations out loud.” Gordon laughed, shoving him into bed, where Tommy sleepily grabbed him.

The following afternoon, Benrey found a vase of roses addressed to him, alongside several seed packets.

#hlvrai #frenreylatta #benrey #I'm not gonna tag the others bc they're barely in it but they're all there #my writing #okay to reblog #I wrote this in a rush today because the idea would not leave me alone!!!!! #shoutout to people who regularly come up with sweet voice rhymes bc that was HARD #most of these are a stretch but I wanted to make them work with the flowers #the flower meanings come from a flower language book I have and the meanings are as follows: #american starworts: cheerfulness in old age #chrysanthemum: cheerfulness under adversity #convolvulus: bonds #larch: boldness #black poplar: courage #peruvian heliotropes: devotion #hundred-leaved roses: dignity of mind #pencil-leaved geraniums: genius #southernwood: banter #irish ivy: clinging affection #red periwinkles: early friendship #scarlet lychnis: sunbeaming eyes #american cowslip: divine beauty #traveller's joy: safety #sorrel: parental affection #bearded crepis: protection #juniper: protection #I did not proofread this whatsoever hope y'all like it