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melminli · 6 months

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phone time

summery - you and satoru have been together for a long time now, like really long. next week marks your nine year anniversary, actually, and your friends think that it's a bit weird that you two are not doing anything special on that day.

contains: fem reader, fluff/crack, utahime being in your business, gossip, meimei hate, suggestive joke at the end

"we were thinking about going shopping with mei mei this weekend, you want to come with us?" utahime asked you as you stepped into the living room after leaving the kitchen. it took you a second to answer her, as your attention was focused on the tray in your hands. you really didn't want to risk one of the three cups of hot coffee spilling over and doing a mess. as well as getting a third-degree burn.

when the tray finally touched the small table, you got around to answering. "i don't know. i've been spending too much money lately." you admitted, making yourself comfortable on the soft carpet. sitting across from the sofa also helped the conversation flow more smoothly. "i would still come just to hang out with you guys, but you know i don't like meimei that much..."

shoko was about to add something when gojo interrupted her. "you can just take my card, you know. and meimei isn't much of a talker anyway. you should go if you feel like it." he suggested from his position on the pastel pink armchair. "you can also go to starbucks together. they should have pumpkin space latte on the menu again now that it's fall."

you thought about the proposal once more at his argument while holding your cup in your hands. the girls on the other side sent disgusted looks to the man. even though he spoke in their favor, they weren't really interested in hearing his input. "and why are you still here? i thought you told your crusty boyfriend to leave for a few hours." utahime complained to you.

"and i did." you replied and sensed the mean looks he gave you when you didn't correct her after she described him as crusty. you just shook your head to signal him that she didn't know what she was talking about. "weren't you gonna meet up with suguru?" you asked him, looking in his direction.

i can't believe i'm getting kicked out of my own place. he leaned a little deeper in his seat at that thought, but didn't really mind since it was you who asked him to. he wasn't really authorized to participate in girl talk and was, to be honest, a bit butt hurt about it. he would do anything to participate in a session. "we are. that asshole is running late, so i would be very grateful if you ladies could show me some mercy and let me wait inside since it's like two degrees outside."

you raised an eyebrow at his wording and spoke up with a grin after taking a sip. "what's the matter, elsa? can't handle the cold?"

satoru just rolled his eyes. "i can't wait until it starts snowing. doesn't it ever get boring? making the same jokes over and over again."

you pretended to give his question serious thought until you finally answered. "no, not really."

utahime watched the interaction between you with a furrowed brow. "i can't believe you two are a couple." she finally said, abruptly changing the subject. "you just don't act coupley at all."

shoko disagreed. "what does that even mean? they've been together for like forever."

it felt a little strange to gojo that she was kind of supportive of your relationship right now. she wasn't really, but it felt that way to him, and he was happy about it and agreed with her. "exactly. that is a heavy accusations you're throwing in the room, that i'm not going to tolerate. i would literally die for my girlfriend, which is like the bare minimum, i know. but still." he spoke in a completely serious voice.

you hummed in support of him. "yeah, i mean men are meant to die in war anyway, so it's good that you know."

there. you guys were doing it again. "that's what i'm talking about. nothing about how you behave with each other is romantic in the slightest way." she said, a little disappointed. "i've also never seen you kiss or heard that you're going on dates. i mean, do you even have anything planned for your anniversary?" she continued to enumerate, getting seriously worried.

you didn't take her worry serious since you did all these things in private. you just preferred it that way. "we live together, and we spend a lot of quality time together. just because we don't call everything a date doesn't mean we never do anything as a couple." you retorted, and satoru supported what you said with adding period. "i've been a little lazy lately due to it getting so cold again, and i don't feel like doing anything extravagant because it just mentally exhausts me on top with work. so we'll probably just chill and have some phone time in the evening." you answered her question about your anniversary. maybe you would get satoru a little gift like flowers. yeah, he liked getting flowers. you mentally made a note to look on the internet for some with a nice meaning.

shoko repeated questioningly. "phone time?" somehow, she imagined it to be something very strange.

"yeah, you know." satoru began, although the two had no idea what you two were talking about. "lying in bed. scrolling on social media - mostly tiktok. showing funny or stupid videos to each other and laughing about it."

you raised an index finger to add. "or cat videos." you reminisced about some silly trends in the past. "i kind of miss dabloon cat..."

so the two are just some sort of ipad kids.

"that's pretty weird, actually. you two are weird." said utahime in conclusion, not knowing what else to say.

you just rolled your eyes as you took another sip of your coffee. "last time i checked, you were single."

a sigh escaped her at the remark. "well, i can't argue against that. my dating life has been drier than a desert lately..."

at that, a slight giggle escaped satoru's lips, reminding you all that he was indeed still present in the room. "you know what's not dry after i - "

"satoru."

"what? just because she doesn't see us kiss doesn't mean that we don't do it."

#female reader #jjk satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #fanfic drabble #utahime iori #shoko ieiri #crack fic #jujutsu kaisen #satoru x you #x reader

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bradshawssugarbaby · 26 days

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Girl, You're My Angel - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley Bradshaw's a down on his luck first baseman in the MLB, struggling to find his stride in the game he loves so much. A wedding invite from his ex-wife is enough to convince him to go for a drink, trying to forget about everything going on. He wasn't banking on meeting you though.

pairing: baseball!Bradley Bradshaw x reader (nicknamed Angel)

warnings/content: baseball au, mentions of divorce, smoking, alcohol, reference to drunk driving, bar fight, mentions of blood, Bradley having a dirty mind.

word count: 3k.

taglist (also tagging those who were interested in Take One For The Team since it's a similar vibe and explains the lack of updates lol): @avengersfan25, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @nouis-bum, @mamachasesmayhem, @floydsmuse, @kmc1989, @dckweed, @katfanfic, @nerdgirljen, @whatislovevavy, @mrsevans90, @averyhotchner, @yuckosworld, @tgmreader, @allepaula, @lourd-ita, @mariaenchanted

The booming bass drum of a classic rock song thumped in your head as you gripped the cocktail glass in your hand. The liquid sloshed around in the glass as you danced, swaying to and fro with your best friends, trying your best to enjoy yourself on your girls’ night out. Your finals had just wrapped up, and you were this much closer to earning your masters, the only thing standing between you and getting that embossed sheet of paper, was your grades. To unwind after the cram sessions you’d mustered your way through for the past month, your friends dragged you out to some new amusement bar in the Gaslamp Quarter.

Across the bar, on the other side of the room, stood Bradley Bradshaw, a once promising baseball star who now, had earned himself a reputation as the MLB’s resident asshole - unable to take criticism or a loss without lashing out at someone. His recent stunt involved hurling his baseball bat across the diamond when he struck out in practice, frustrated with his sudden lack of skill, a skill that once came so naturally to him when his mind wasn’t preoccupied.

The invitation had come in the mail two days before the bat throwing incident. His ex-wife, the one who left him two and a half years ago, was remarrying the fucking prick she cheated on Bradley with. The invite had come completely out of the blue, and when Bradley opened it, he felt all of the air leave his lungs as his fingers traced over the gold embossed lettering, donning her name and the name of her new fiancé. He’d never admit it to anyone, but that single piece of cardstock had been enough to reduce him to tears, slumping down the kitchen wall as he hugged his knees to his chest, crying loud enough that it made him thankful he had no neighbours near by.

Bradley had pulled himself together, lit a cigarette from the pack he’d been nursing for the last few months, reserved only for social events and times of pure stress, and got in his vintage Ford Bronco, his first purchase when he signed his first contract. Taking a drag from the cigarette, his brown eyes scanned over San Diego’s downtown core as he cruised past a few of the typical nightlife spots - each one a little too public for what he wanted. All other options exhausted, he pulled up outside of a newer bar that had opened the previous week, neon lights advertising an arcade on one side and drinks on the other.

He figured if nothing else, a couple of rounds of Pac-Man on an old video game after a handful of beers might do him good. He could leave the Bronco parked there and walk to the hotel around the corner, and forget about how his ex-wife’s wedding was coming up in six months, how she’d had the audacity to invite him to see her marrying the guy he’d walked in on her with.

He sidled up to the bar, nodding his head to the bartender in thanks as he ordered himself a beer. Standing across from him was a group of women, not much younger than him, gossiping and giggling together. He sized the group up, thinking to himself that maybe a one-night deal was what he needed to take his mind off his ex.

You were the tallest girl of the group, with bright eyes, and hair brushed back in a sleek, high ponytail, sporting a form-fitting cocktail dress that made Bradley’s heart race when he saw you. He pounded back the rest of his beer, trying to find his confidence in himself once again in the comfort of the drink.

Bradley set his empty bottle down on the bar top before walking his way around the circular counter. He rested his elbow on the bar, leaning in with a broad smile as you looked in his direction. He offered a polite wave of his hand, chuckling awkwardly as he felt his confidence wavering as he spoke to you.

“Hey, could I buy you a drink? He said simply, his Virginian accent dropping into a thicker drawl than usual.

“I’m good, thanks, still got one,” You held up your half-full glass and shook your head politely, not wanting to reject him too brutally.

Bradley nodded his head once at you, his smile faltering for a second. He quickly regained himself, smiling once again politely before grabbing himself another beer and heading over to the arcade, resolving that a couple of old-school video games might make his night a little better.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to rejection - he’d been turned down almost as often as he’d been accepted, but for some reason, your rejection stung just that little bit more. Maybe it was the wedding invitation still making things sour, or maybe it was the fact that the mere sight of a girl hadn’t been enough to make his heart accelerate like this in a long time. He shook his head once, trying to focus his train of thought once again on something, anything other than what was currently occupying it.

Baseball? Too stressful, his game was starting to slip up on him. Buying a puppy? No, it’d just be one more thing he could let down. Hitting the gym? He already went 6 days a week - if he went any more frequently, he’d have to consider moving his bed in there.

His mind raced as he pressed the buttons on the video game, moving the small yellow circle across the screen, collecting points between sips of beer. Behind him, he heard a couple of guys shouting at a tv screen, the sound of the latest sports highlights blaring out in the background.

“This Bradshaw asshole needs to get his shit together. Twenty-nine and he plays about as well as my ten year old. Drop him down to the minors or get rid of the bastard. He shouldn’t be missing plays like this.” One of the voices shouted at the tv, his friends nodding their heads in silent agreement with his rant.

Bradley felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention as the insults about his playing continued to spout from this guy’s mouth. He couldn’t have been much older than Bradley was, one of those armchair commentators who probably hadn’t swung a bat since Little League. As the criticism continued, each jab focused directly at Bradley’s game performance, missing one play that cost a game - one that he’d already been feeling pissed off about - it became harder to ignore.

“I bet that hot little piece of ass wife of his left him because she knew he was a dogshit baseball player.”

Bradley spun around on his heels so fast that he swore the room was spinning. He turned to face the group, crowded in a corner in front of the tv, faces all glued to the female commentator. Bradley could practically hear the derogatory thoughts they were having about her and it only fuelled his anger more.

“Hey, man, if you’ve got an issue with how I play the game, I’d like to see you get off your ass and go play nine innings against Boston. Keep my ex-wife’s name out of your mouth.” Bradley scoffed, narrowing his dark brown eyes at the trio.

“You got a problem, jackass?” The other man growled, raising an eyebrow at Bradley as he slammed his drink down on the table. “She probably left you for that rookie because even she knew you weren’t good for anything.”

“That so? Your wife would probably like to go a couple rounds with me though.” Bradley retorted, a devilish smirk forming on his face as he folded his muscular arms across his chest.

Before Bradley had time to blink, the man drew back his arm and landed a hard punch to Bradley’s jaw. Bradley quickly delivered a stronger hit to the man’s face, watching him stumble backwards for a second. Bradley turned around and walked outside, getting ready to light another cigarette as he ran his hand over his jaw, assessing if he had any damage to worry about.

The man returned, practically running outside after Bradley. More heated words were exchanged, insults flying between them both before the man delivered another hit, this time to Bradley’s nose. He shook his hand off and headed off down the street with his friends, disappearing off to the next bar. Bradley held his nose, blood dripping down from his nostrils and onto his hand.

You and your friends had heard the commotion when it unfolded inside, and decided to head out, having enough excitement for one night. As you stepped out, you saw the man who’d hit on you earlier, this time with his nose bleeding onto the pavement under him. You ran over to him, raising an eyebrow.

“What did you do, hit on a girl who had a boyfriend?” You asked playfully as you rooted through your purse for something to help clean his nose.

“Called a guy out for saying my ex-wife was a “hot piece of ass”, actually,” Bradley nodded once, gratefully taking the tissues from you and using them to clean his nose.

“Stick your hand out for a sec,” you instructed, squirting a dollop of scented hand sanitizer into his large palm before raising an eyebrow at him, “You don’t have anything I could catch from helping you without gloves?”

“What the hell is that suppose to mean?” Bradley scoffed, trying to laugh but wincing instead, “And why the fuck does my hand smell like a flower?”

“Lavender hand sanitizer. It’s not as good as washing your hands, but it’ll do while we’re outside. And I’m going to hold the tissues in place while you rub it into your hands, but I don’t want to catch something. I’m just fresh out of latex gloves.”

“Good thing. I’m allergic,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders as he tried to brave through the pain, “I’m clean. You’re fine. I get drug tested and physicals through work constantly.”

“What kind of a job provides those? Military?”

“Professional athlete.” He nodded as you pinched the tissues to his nose, applying pressure to help with the bleeding. “Fuck, that hurts.”

“Your nose is broken, it’s suppose to hurt.”

“What are you, a doctor?”

“No, just wrote my finals for a masters in nursing.”

“Close enough,” Bradley nodded slightly, cringing as you continued to apply pressure to his nose.

You rooted through your purse, laughing softly as you pulled a tampon out of your bag. Bradley raised an eyebrow at you, not quite registering what the item was until you pulled the plastic wrapping off of it, stuffing the garbage back into your purse.

“What the fuck do you plan on doing with that?”

“I need to stick it up your nose on the left side. It’s bleeding more than I’d like to see, and a broken nose should probably be set in a medical setting. This way, you won’t bleed all over my car.”

“Your car? You’ve been drinking.”

“Half a vodka-cran over the span of three hours? I think I’m probably not gonna blow over the limit.”

“You are not sticking that up my nose,” he replied stubbornly, arms folding over his chest like a petulant child.

“Look at your shirt,” you laughed, gesturing to the white floral print button down he was wearing, its collar now tinged with red and pink splotches.

“Fine,” he said with a reluctant sigh, “but if anyone finds out about this, I’m denying it.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you nodded as you offered him the plastic applicator.

Bradley rolled his eyes and reluctantly pressed the bottom of the applicator, pushing the tampon into the edge of his nose. He looked at you with another dramatic eyeroll and shook his head before walking down the street to a garbage can. He discarded the applicator before turning to face you, sighing.

“I can take myself to a hospital, you know.”

“I’m already here, I may as well come with you. Besides, I feel kinda bad about turning you down.”

“Oh, so you’re taking care of me out of pity?” He teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe. Even more so with a tampon hanging out of your nose.”

“It’s quite the fashion statement, isn’t it?” He laughed softly, unbuttoning his dress shirt. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, revealing a clean white t-shirt.

You unlocked your car, the familiar beep as the doors unlocked causing Bradley to stifle a laugh.

“What is that?!”

“My car,” you responded matter-of-factly, “What does it look like?”

“One of those cars for a Barbie doll that my goddaughter plays with,” he said as he flourished his hand, gesturing to your pink steering wheel cover and coordinating seat cover.

“Listen, I like pink. Now are you getting in, or do I have to make you?”

Bradley’s eyes widened for a moment, your playful threat of making him get into the car sending his mind into a frenzy again. He eyed you up and down again, and found himself shaking his head as he wondered what colour underwear you had on under your dress. He bet it was probably a coordinating pink set - the kind that Victoria’s Secret mannequins would model in the store window, with delicate little bows or lace or something adorning them.

Focus, Bradley. She doesn’t want to sleep with you. Stop thinking about her.

He sat down in the passenger’s seat, watching as you hopped into the driver’s side. As you pulled away from the curb, he raised an eyebrow at your choice in music as Taylor Swift started blaring from the speaker.

“You can change it if you want to,” you nodded. “You can put on whatever.”

“No, no, It’s fine. I actually like this song.”

“You said you’re a professional athlete? What sport do you play?”

“Baseball,” he said, slowly nodding his head, “my headshot’s on a flag outside of Petco Park.”

“I thought I recognized you, you’re that player everyone always talks about, right?”

“Unfortunately. It’s rarely good things.”

“How come?”

Bradley sighed, raising an eyebrow, “You know they talk about me but not why?”

“I don’t follow baseball, I've actually never even seen a game, live or on tv. I just know my friend does and she told me everyone talks about you. Bradshaw, right? Number 10?”

“Yeah, that’s me. Bradley Bradshaw. First baseman, used to have a promising career, then, you know, wife cheats on me with a rookie from a rival team, catch her in a hotel room that I paid for with him, and then, despite me stupidly telling her I forgave her and you know what, I was pissed, but I loved her anyway and I blamed myself for her cheating, she served me divorce papers. Said I was incapable of loving anything but baseball. Says the woman who refused to do anything with me when I tried to be loving and affectionate. My friends swear she only married me for the status and the paycheck. Her new fiancé just signed a multi-million dollar contract that’s being talked about as one of the highest in the league, so it sort of checks out.”

“Jeez,” you whistled, shaking your head, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It was two and half years ago. I just, I haven’t found my stride again yet, I guess.”

“Is that why you got defensive about her?”

“They said she left me for this other guy because she knew I was a dogshit ball player. I mean, it’s probably not far off. But, I got an invite for her wedding in the mail today, and I was already on edge, so I sort of…snapped.”

“She invited you?!”

“Yeah, like that, huh? She probably thought I have someone new I’m seeing and that we could still be friends or some shit.”

“So you need a date?”

“I’m not going,” he said firmly, shaking his head. “I’m not going.”

“Why not? Free drinks for a night, you can wish her well while secretly hoping her husband’s ball career washes out on him in a year or two.”

Bradley chuckled, shrugging his shoulders as he gestured his hand towards you, “I like your thinking actually, but I’m not going alone.”

“I’ll go with you,” you offered, shrugging your shoulders, “When is it?”

“In six months, you don’t need to come with me though. I’ll send her some cheap gift and call it a day.”

“No,” you insisted as you pulled into a parking space at the hospital’s urgent care clinic, “I’ll come with you. I love a good revenge story. Besides, it could be fun. I’ve never partied with a bunch of baseball players before.”

“You’re…you’re something else, you know that?”

“You mean, you don’t have dozens of women offering you a tampon to stop your nosebleed, driving you to the hospital and then offering to accompany you to your ex-wife’s wedding date?” you challenged.

“Can’t say that I do, no.”

“Well, I’m honoured to be your first.”

Bradley couldn’t help his ear to ear grin as he followed you into the hospital. Despite his bloodied, battered nose, which was hurting more than he cared to let on, and his fledging career, falling apart around him as he stood there, he felt genuinely excited. Excited to get to know you better. Excited to see where things went with you. He felt a promising sense in your words - like maybe, just maybe, he might be able to be done with one-night-stands and empty beds in the morning. He felt giddy, like a teenager going on a first date with his high school crush. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain from his nose or the alcohol talking, but he was almost convinced you were a guardian angel of sorts. Refusing to believe that someone like you could be anything but.

First things first though, he needed to bring you to a baseball game.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw au #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw au #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw au #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x y/n #top gun maverick au fic #baseball au

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haikyu-mp4 · 8 days

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Friend of a friend

word count; 2535 – gn!reader, very suggestive at the end, manga spoilers

Back in high school, you went to Inarizaki and chose to be a manager for the volleyball club in your second and third years. It was incredibly fun and you might have cried when they won nationals in their last spring tournament before your class graduated.

Even after graduating and going your different ways, you stayed friends with Suna and the twins, as well as some of the other players. Unfortunately, you spoke much less frequently with the others.

Being friends with those three means gossip sessions, which is why you were lying on your bed with your computer open on a video call with the guys, updating each other on the latest gossip.

“How’s the new team, Rin?” Osamu asked, making Atsumu squint with a cocky smirk as he probably immediately started comparing it to his team. Suna shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s cool. That Komori guy is nice, I never really talked to him in high school,” he said, mentioning him because Atsumu had told you guys all about the players in the All-Japan group back in your second year. And of course, everyone knew about the best high school libero of the monster generation. You let out the tiniest gasp, covering your mouth when the twins started cackling while Suna looked confused. “What?”

“We never told you?” Osamu asked Suna in particular while you were making wild gestures for him to shut up. “Y/n has had the biggest crush on Komori since our second year at Inarizaki.”

Oh, the horror. Suna’s face lit up in a way it rarely did, suddenly armed with precious information to be used against you. “Are you serious?”

“It was a high school crush, get over it!” you yelled as if the blush on your cheeks was not giving you away.

“You were practically drooling.” Atsumu accused you and if you could punch him through the screen, you would.

“Miya, I swear to god-” but Atsumu knew you couldn’t reach him, so he smirked and kept that big mouth talking.

“When we were at nationals that year, the two of us went off to go watch Itachiyama.” he started, but you interrupted him.

“Because Tsumu wanted to stare at Sakusa,” you mumbled, already giving up on making him withhold any information.

“I was scoping out the competition! Anyways, one look at Komori was all it took before I was punched way too hard in my shoulder and forced to give up any information I had,” he explained, making it as dramatic as he could for Atsumu-purposes and clutching his upper arm as if he could still feel it.

“Reeeally?” Suna cooed. “From what I can tell, he’s single.”

Osamu had his mic off as he was in the kitchen making food, leaving you to the two worst ones. “This is why ‘Samu is my favourite,” you mumbled. He gave the camera a thumbs up and a wink, still leaving you to your own defences.

“Is he the one getting you a date with your lifelong crush?” Suna asked rhetorically, phone whipped out in the corner of his screen making your face go pale.

“No, but neither are you!” you yelled, hoping it was somewhat threatening, but it sounded more desperate. “And who said lifelong? I hate you.”

“Fine, suit yourself.” he finally said, but the way he was side-eyeing the screen while Atsumu smirked told you this was not over yet.

Fortunately, weeks went by without you hearing anything else about any supposed date. Komori did come up in conversation now and then, which you appreciated when it wasn’t just so they could tease you. You could feel the crush blossoming again every time Suna told you about their adventures in volleyball and it felt somewhat nostalgic.

Should you give in and ask Suna for his number?

This is what you were wondering as you walked through the city, barely dodging bikes that tried to run over you while you daydreamed. The better option is probably giving in, but you preferred admiring him from far (far) away rather than facing the possible rejection. You pushed the door to the cafe where you’re meeting Suna, before huffing as you realised it said pull. Good start to the day for sure. When you finally got inside, you were muttering under your breath as your friend’s laughter rang in your ears.

“Shut up!” you barked at him before sitting down. He already ordered two hot chocolates when you said you were on your way.

“What’s got you so scatterbrained?” he asked, leaning his arms on the table.

You glared at him over your hands, which you were leaning on. “How to secretly perform a lobotomy on my enemy while he’s sleeping,” you answered, but your ears still burned red knowing what was actually on your mind.

“So you weren’t thinking about a certain teammate of mine?” Suna asked, wiggling his eyebrows. However, he looked genuinely surprised when you just leaned back down on your hands, not denying it. “Wait, you were?”

“Why am I friends with you?” you whine, finally sitting up to sip your hot chocolate in hopes that it would fix all your problems.

Suna smirked, hearing the bell ring over the door of the cafe. “I can think of a few reasons,” he said quickly before lifting his hand in greeting, making you whip your head in the direction of the entrance. To your horror, there stood none other than Komori Motoya. “Motoya!”

The libero smiled kindly, making your heart skip a beat as he walked over to you two. “Sunarin! What’s up?” he asked.

“Just catching up with this lovely person,” he said, throwing you a devilish grin. Komori turned to you, bowing lightly to greet you as well.

“Right, Suna told me about you. Komori Motoya.”

“Hi,” you said, feeling shy as you told him your name as well. As if you didn’t already know his name. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to think too much about how you said finally. “And you.” With that, Komori smiled and excused himself to order his coffee. This gave you some time to soundlessly curse at Suna, until you had to plaster a smile back on your face when he came back over, sitting down for a moment while waiting for his name to be called. “You were friends from high school, right?”

“Yes.” You glanced at Suna for help, words stuck in your throat. “I was a manager for the volleyball team.”

Komori made a sound of realisation like he finally put two and two together. “I thought I knew your face from somewhere!” he said, memories flooding back of the game in their last year of high school where they faced off against Inarizaki. “The pretty manager who got scolded by the referee for being too loud.”

You laughed at the memory, looking at Suna to see if he remembered as well and somehow managing to overlook that he called you pretty. “That’s the one,” Suna said, confirming that he did.

“You beat us in the semifinal,” Komori added. “Rin said you saw another one of our games at nationals once.”

“Not just once,” you chuckled before realising what you said and shutting up immediately. Both of the boys chuckled as well, one to ease your embarrassment and one to embarrass you more.

“Komori!” the barista yelled, relieving you at the perfect time. The man stood up and got his drink before coming back over but not sitting down. “I’ve got to go, but let’s meet again sometime, yeah?” he asked, directing the last half at you more than his teammate.

“Yeah,” you agreed, putting as much effort as you could into giving him your best smile. He bowed quickly before turning on his heel and leaving with a final goodbye.

Your eyes went straight to your friend, squinting. The second the cafe door closed, he burst out laughing, trying to not be loud and disturb others. “Not just once!” he mocked, making you bury your face in your hands. “You’re so hopeless at this.”

Let’s just say Suna told the twins how that went over your next video call, so now you’re watching them laugh at you as well, begging any existing god for it to stop and to just bury you already. After a few minutes, the laughing and teasing cooled off. “Well, now it’s my turn to step in,” Atsumu announced, and once again they got to watch the colour drain from your face.

“Step in? There will be no stepping in.” you stuttered.

“This Friday, I’m hosting a private party,” he said like a rich man from some movie. “And let’s just say you’ll enjoy the guest list, y/n.”

You bury your face into your mattress, pressing a pillow over your head. “Please, anyone. End my misery!”

But who are you to deny a good party? It’s just for fun, nothing interesting.

Nothing interesting at all- the thought drifted off into nothing as you watched Sakusa and Komori walk through the door. You chuckled to yourself at how Sakusa seemed to already turn around and try to escape when he saw there were more people there. From the corner of the room, where you previously chatted with Atsumu before he had to answer the door, you watched them. While calmly sipping your drink and leaning against the wall, you observed how sweet Komori acted, turning Sakusa back around and urging him to stay.

However, you should never let your guard down when you’re friends with a Miya. Next thing you knew, all the previously mentioned guys were looking where Atsumu pointed; right at you. In a fight or flight moment, your eyes widened and you escaped into the crowd before Komori could even see you properly. What a classy reaction!

The party went on and you danced with a couple of people you knew from here and there. It was a decent party, you had to admit Miya was good at hosting. Lucky you also crossed paths with a smirking Suna at the edge of the living room turned dance floor. “You truly are the image of grace,” he teased, and you glared in betrayal.

“Thank you,” you answered instead of arguing, moving along with the beat. Suna still seemed smug, and you felt a sense of deja vu when he lifted his hand and yelled ‘Motoya!’ over the loud music. “Have I told you that you’re the worst?” you asked in your sweetest voice before using some liquid courage to turn around to your undeniable crush with a drawn-out ‘heeey’.

“Hey, I was hoping I’d find you,” he responded, a hand caressing your upper arm because some people were pushing. “Where did Suna go?” he asked, glancing up once or twice before settling his gaze on you.

“I asked him to call on you, actually,” you lied, choosing fight instead of flight for once. After all, you had downed a cup or two of mixed alcohol since earlier.

“Really?” Komori smiled and you naturally copied it, albeit a bit more dazed. “Why?” he started moving with you to the music, his hand stroking down your arm and finding its place on your waist.

You didn’t answer him with anything more than a flirty smile and sheepish shrug, stepping closer to him and getting lost in the music while you dared to. If Suna was so insistent on him perceiving you, you didn’t want to seem like some loser with a childish crush.

Eventually, the song changed and you looked down into your now empty cup with a small pout. You left it on the closest surface and turned to Komori. “Should we go somewhere quieter?” you asked, pointing towards the stairs. When he agreed, you loosely grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs, looking around for a moment before realising the only good options were the bedroom or the balcony. “Bedroom or balcony?” you asked without thinking much about what it might seem like.

Did he look nervous? Komori was fiddling with his empty plastic cup and didn’t meet your eyes, biting his lip as he looked at the door to the bedroom. “Don’t you think it would be occupied?”

You shrugged and walked over to the door, pulling on the handle and swinging the door open only to find an empty albeit a bit messy room. Turning back to him, you knew your cheeks were burning. It’s just from the alcohol… “Coast is clear.” Komori followed you inside before closing the door behind you, hesitating for a moment before deciding not to lock it. What if that scared you off? What if he misunderstood? The two of you ended up facing each other in the middle of the floor, both thinking too much to make the first move. You weren’t sure if you pulled him upstairs for anything specific, you honestly just wanted to talk to him more now that you had the chance. And guts.

Komori accidentally dropped the empty cup he had been fiddling with and winced, seemingly spurring into action from that little movement alone. “You’re gorgeous.”

You looked at him wide eyed before the words just fell out of your mouth. “I have a huge crush on you.”

A breathy chuckle left his lips and it brushed over your face because he was so close, yet he was seemingly moving even closer by the second. “Sunarin told me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, cursing your best friend in your mind until you feel Komori’s hands land on your hips more confidently. “I hate him,” you informed him in a whisper. The little space between you felt like it wouldn’t fit anything louder.

“I don’t,” he answered with a small grin before he kissed you, making your arms automatically loop around his neck to pull him closer. You kissed him back with the lust of every wandering thought you had of him the last few years, and he kissed you back with the passion of someone who wasn’t used to being the crush with a cousin like Kiyoomi. When the back of your legs hit the bed, you lay back and pulled him with you, feeling one of his hands slide under your shirt, which you had no intention of stopping.

Suna wasn’t sure if he was happy or not with the sounds coming from Atsumu’s bedroom when he went looking for you. He was glad his plan worked out but he did not need the mental image that came with you moaning his teammate’s name. Is it possible to rinse your brain? Also, Atsumu would act so mad about you doing whatever in his bed before you ‘snuck’ out of the party hand in hand with Komori.

And Osamu would hear all about it in the morning when you came to get food wearing an EJP Raijin sweatshirt. He’d tell you having you there on your derailed walk of shame was bad for business, but still let you sit there and babble about how great Komori was, both in bed and after.

At least you were happy, and that made them happy too.

masterlist

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #hq #haikyu fluff #komori motoya #komori x reader #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader

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topgunreacts · 10 months

Text

I do all kinds of sexual dynamics for IceMav because I like variety and it keeps me young. The omegaverse fic is a story of two bottoms taking turns being the top. And I think that’s beautiful.

It exists, and one day when the beta read is over I will post it. Soulmates should be arriving soon. And then you will read about Maverick impulsively marrying a 90-year-old man thinking there’s no way the old man will still be around by the time he meets his soulmate. Get this: that does not happen. Also, he does not have a fugly dog in this one, so not part of the MFUDEU.

For no reason, here is a first draft sneak peek of the start of the IceMav soulmates AU: The Heart is an Empty Room. If you see mistakes then no you didn’t.

It was a lovely mid-June evening in sunny San Diego. A light breeze danced through the trees in the backyard, and the temperature was so perfect there wasn’t a running air conditioner in sight. Flowers in full bloom scattered their heady perfume into the air. All the birds had gone to roost in the canopies and shrubs, chattering at one another over the sound of distant waves crashing into the sand. In the sky, a sliver of a moon hung like a shard of broken glass over the land.

Maverick Mitchell was standing in the expansive kitchen of a rented seaside villa, counting medication. Most of the other TOPGUN students were at the bars, or someone’s house, drinking. Tonight was every student’s last free evening before an intense six weeks of training. Consequently, the average Lieutenant chose drinks and revelry to celebrate his impending aviation glory. Even Goose, the consummate father and steady husband, was somewhere out there throwing back shots until last call. At Miramar, Goose didn’t have to worry about babysitters and not waking the wife. He’d tried to drag Maverick along with him. But Maverick had refused. So there Maverick stood before a quartzite countertop—not a tumbler or shot glass in sight—sorting colored capsules and pills into a two-tiered organizer. The only bottles he planned on opening tonight came from the pharmacy, and contained various forms of prescribed liquids that Maverick knew better than to sample.

Generally speaking, Maverick filled the organizer on Sunday mornings. It was a quiet time on a quiet day, and thus offered the fewest distractions. But this morning he’d woken up late and had to prioritize his errands, and so here he was now, counting on a Sunday evening instead of meeting his peers and future competitors. He’d wanted to go. But there were many things in the world more important than bar hopping. Things such as this medication, and ensuring its ingestion.

It didn’t matter. There would be other chances to let his hair down. Other parties, other chances to mingle. Unlike Maverick, Goose hadn’t flown in until yesterday, and he’d already met a few other aviators who told him that the night after the first session was when the real parties began. Allegedly, nobody got too wild. They were there to learn, after all. So long as everyone got enough sleep to tell the difference between the left and right rudder pedals, no harm no foul. And apparently, things quieted down around week two.

All of this, Maverick knew secondhand. Yes, he’d been in San Diego for an entire month before the other students started showing up, but there’d been endless chores to do and errands to run—thus, no time to gossip or gather intel. Not that Maverick had anyone to blame for that business but himself. Some of the things he’d done—not just that weekend, but all the days since his arrival—fell under the purview of Elise: the cook and housekeeper that had come with the rental property. Maverick did not need to buy the groceries, take the dogs in for their vaccines, vacuum, or wash the linens. But he’d done all four of those chores and more. Chore after chore, errand after errand, some of them unnecessary and others nonsensical—anything, anything, to distract himself from the numbers on his wrist ticking down like a timer on a pipe bomb. If making a second trip to the library in one day helped stifle the sinking feeling in his stomach, then Maverick would do it. If mowing a lawn that didn’t need to be mowed abetted the stress so white-hot it altered his senses and made his back ache, then it was worth it.

Goose had told him to stop looking at his soulmark—a curiously dour order from a typically upbeat man. Back when they first met, Goose had told Maverick about the day he met his own soulmate Carole. It was the stuff of rom coms: they’d each watched the time tick down on their wrists while keeping an eye on the wrong person—Carole, a handsome woman at the bar, and Goose, a fresh young thing playing darts. When they finally made contact, they hadn’t meant to at all. The dart player sneezed, prompting Goose to take a step backward, which sent him straight into Carole, who’d been ready to flee the room after the woman at the bar coolly dismissed her.

Ass over teakettle they went, two humans transforming into a single pile of flustered limbs on the floor. The sustained contact when they helped one another up was enough to seal the bond. By the time they made eye contact, they already knew one another’s hearts. Sparks flew, Goose said. And that ironclad soulbond marking them as a pair settled down between them like an old dog: comfortably, and with a heaving sigh—as though all of creation had been watching the whole time, saying: finally.

Then it was Maverick’s turn to tell the story of his mark. His wasn’t half as whimsical. He’d been one of those desperately troubled kids growing up: a tragic orphan bouncing from foster family to foster family, whose soulmark kept him company when it felt like the whole world was against him. On bad days, Maverick would find a closet or a cupboard somewhere and crawl inside. There, he would tilt his wrist to catch the light and watch the numbers go down. In five thousand days, Maverick would Meet his soulmate. In four thousand days, everything would be just fine. In three thousand days, Maverick would know unconditional love.

Those temporal thoughts were like life jackets keeping him afloat for the longest time. Even after he enlisted, Maverick found himself touching that mark like a lucky stone, willing the future to get here faster. But then he went to France on shore leave, and everything changed. When Goose, fresh from telling his beautiful love story, found out what happened that rainy night in Paris, his mouth dropped open in shock. Once the horror wore off a few days later, Goose wanted to know a few more details, and Maverick provided them. Each new piece of information only served to astound Goose even further.

But he’d stayed by Maverick’s side, troubled history and all. He’d defended Maverick, uplifted him, and given him sound advice. Years later—two months before the kitchen where Maverick counted pills—Goose was sitting next to Maverick on the couch in his Key West sitting room, watching his best friend count the hours down to TOPGUN. Then, Maverick had been staring at his wrist not in joyful anticipation but abject horror, and Goose gave him another bit of sound advice: “Mav. Stop looking at it.”

Not that it would help. The time on Maverick’s wrist did not stop the way he hoped it would. His sorrow was in vain. The numbers kept ticking down and down. In—Maverick lowered a pill bottle and checked his wrist—twenty hours, fourteen minutes, and eleven seconds, Maverick would Meet his soulmate. But here was the thing: he didn’t want to. Once, he’d placed his future love on a pedestal. And now, that person was a nuisance. An unwelcome visitor. Maverick hadn’t wanted things to be this way. But they were. Running was not an option. No one could escape the Meeting.

#icemav #top gun #writing #top gun fanfiction #soulmates au #previews #the heart is an empty room #get fuckin hyped #ask me anything #I’m bad at posting unprompted

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cerealmonster15 · 17 days

Text

Valentine's Day is for the Besties [TWST]

[Ao3 Link]

Wordcount: 1,853

Summary: The Heartslabyul boys go on a picnic together.

Note: there's a specific ref to something trey says in his platinum birthday story here and it might be kind of weird w/o that context but you also don't need to have read it to read this lol / it's not any sort of lore spoilers [see ao3 for additional notes and tags!]

“BOYS!” Cater clapped his hands together from where he stood in the room’s entryway, Trey entering in from behind him.

Riddle looked up from the textbook he had been tutoring Ace and Deuce from. “Cater, you don’t need to be so loud. It’s only the three of us in here.”

Ace looked welcome to the distraction. “Yo, if it isn’t our favorite pair of juniors! What’s up?”

Cater strode his way into the room and hopped up onto the table’s edge to take a seat, kicking his feet back and forth in the air with a giddy smile.

Riddle sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “...Cater. If you're going to be so bold as to interrupt so casually like this, I assume you must have something important to say, yes?”

“Of COURSE I do!” Cater smiled innocently, while Trey offered a more apologetic smile beside him. “A very important question, actually!”

“On with it, then.”

“Do any of you…” Cater pointed at each boy in the room to punctuate every word, “...have a date for Valentine’s Day tonight?”

Riddle’s jaw dropped. Was THAT really what Cater came in to ask? He interrupted their study session for frivolous gossip!? Honestly, while Cater should know better, Riddle also could not say he was surprised by such tomfoolery, either.

Before he could complain, however, Ace immediately spoke up. “I know for a fact that Loosey-Deucey here doesn’t!”

“Hey!” Deuce protested with a scowl. “What makes you think I don’t have a date?!”

Ace crossed his arms and flashed Deuce a smug grin. “Do you?”

…

“...No.” Deuce admitted with a sigh, which only made Ace laugh obnoxiously loud.

“Come on now, Ace. Don’t bully Deuce,” Trey chided. “After all… I seem to remember you telling one of the other dorm members how you were probably going to spend your evening tonight skulking around the Heartslabyul kitchen to mooch off desserts for people baking last minute for their dates. That doesn’t sound like the plans of a guy with a date of his own, does it?”

Ace gasped in shock at both Trey’s smug grin that matched his own from moments before, and at the sudden attack on his life. “WH- Hey! C’mon, everyone knows Valentine’s Day’s for lame suckers, anyway! Why do I need a date to worry about when I can just take it easy and do whatever I want instead?”

“Okay, so no date for Acey, either? Great!” Cater ignored Ace’s following protests and turned to Riddle. “And what about our super cute housewarden? Got any exciting plans?”

Riddle’s face went bright red and he quickly turned away from the group to avoid eye contact, pretending to busy himself out tidying the study guides strewn about the table. “I-I see no reason to distract myself with such things, that’s all…”

Ace snorted. “Your standards would probably be impossible to meet, anyway.”

Riddle’s flustered look was instantly replaced with one of annoyance. He straightened up, placed his hands on his hips, and scowled down at where Ace sat at the table. “And just what do you mean by that, Ace?!”

Ace snickered again and ducked behind Deuce. “Uh oh, I think I struck a nerve with him!”

“Quit it, Ace!” Deuce complained, trying to squirm out of Ace’s evil clutches on his shoulders.

“Shh, shh, no need to fuss, gentlemen!” Cater waved his hands dismissively and kept up his bright, peppy grin amidst the discourse in the room. “The stars have aligned, and they’re telling us we do have plans tonight - together!”

Ace paused his bickering with Riddle and Deuce to raise an eyebrow at Cater. “Huh?”

“Cater wants to go on a picnic,” Trey clarified. “We thought it might be fun to go as a group, that’s all.”

“...Well,” Riddle once again straightened his posture and pretended that he wasn’t about to break out into a full-on brawl with Ace moments ago. He cleared his throat and faced Cater with a poised, neutral expression. “You could have simply started with that, Cater.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?”

“Regardless,” Riddle continued, “I can’t say I’m opposed to the idea. I’ve never been on a picnic before, though, so I will have to look into the proper preparations.”

“I’ve never been on a picnic, either,” Deuce quietly admitted.

“Perhaps you and I should head over to the school’s library for some guide books together before we go.”

Cater and Ace made eye contact with each other and sighed in solidarity of the sheer goofy behavior their friends were exhibiting. Thank god the social skills masters were here to save their lives and prevent them from an overthinking spiral into madness.

A few hours of avoiding the library and hovering around Trey in the kitchen later, the five of them made their way to a cute little clearing that Cater had scouted out earlier that week. A prime location for taking cute pictures with your friends that you could look back on in the later years, for sure.

“This is a pretty sweet spot you scoped out, Cater!” Ace commented as he and Cater pulled out the picnic blankets to spread for everyone to sit on.

“It is a rather picturesque location,” Riddle agreed, standing with his arms hanging by his sides, looking unsure of what to do. The setting was much more casual than their usual unbirthday parties, and both Cater and Ace had insisted there were no rulebooks for such a situation… How was he to know how to behave without explicit directions!?

“Aw, thanks, guys!” Cater beamed. “And I just KNOW we’ll have the cutest pics for magicam. We’ve got it all! The perfect setting carefully curated by yours truly, super photogenic snacks - thanks Trey, BTW - and the smiling faces of the cutest company a guy could ask for on Valentine’s day.”

Cater punctuated his statement with his most charming wink and blew a kiss to the group.

Riddle sighed, Deuce nearly dropped the box of truffles he was holding, and Ace let out the loudest, most dramatic gagging noise he could possibly muster.

“Alright, come on, now,” Trey laughed. “You’ll have plenty of time to drive each other crazy while you’re eating. You want it while it’s still fresh.”

“Ugh, whatever dad.” Ace rolled his eyes and sat down on the grass, promptly stealing a truffle out of the box Deuce was still holding.

“Hey!” Deuce protested, shoving Ace out of reach with his free hand.

“Boys,” Riddle scowled as Cater pulled him down to sit on the blanket between him and Trey. “Save your dessert for last, and no roughhousing! We may be outside, but you still need to mind your manners.”

“Yes, housewarden…” The two mumbled as they reluctantly pulled away from each other but still made sure to flash each other a not-so-stealthy stink-eye.

“But before we eat,” Cater interjected, “we’ve gotta take a nice pic with all the food out and arranged so nicely! It would be a shame not to capture the hard work we put into making it all look cute, don’tcha think?”

Riddle’s stomach rumbled.

“...Y-yes, well…” Avoiding the amused stares, Riddle hurriedly gestured for Ace and Deuce to come into frame where Cater was angling his phone camera. “Let’s do it quickly, while everything is still fresh, as Trey said.”

A few more seconds and clicks of the camera shutter later, it was finally time to eat. Cater, of course, was too distracted with picking which photo to upload to Magicam to start.

“...Cater,” Trey gently nudged his elbow against Cater’s ribs. “We made those pepper poppers especially for you, you know.”

Cater squirmed away from Trey’s judgemental gaze. “I know, I know! I’ll eat some in juuust a sec- help me pick which one to upload!”

Ace leaned over Cater’s shoulder and pointed at the phone with his already half-eaten sandwich. “Oooh, what about that one? Prim and proper Housewarden’s mid-blink; that’ll get you rarity points.”

“Excuse me?!” Riddle opened his mouth to argue, but froze before he could even begin to speak. His eyes slid to the space beside Ace and locked onto something in Trey’s hand.

A mustard bottle…

Simultaneous flashbacks spawned within the minds of all present. Every member of Heartslabyul was all too familiar with the week where Trey Clover descended into a mustard madness, trying harder every day to force his taste buds to adjust to liking, or even simply tolerating such a common condiment. It got to the point that Trey would have added mustard to his next cake, had it not been for the intervention of the collective dormmates. He’d calmed down after that, and everyone thought that was the end of it… But here they were, and there was the mustard.

“...Trey, what’cha got there?” Cater asked after a few more seconds of silence and began shifting across the picnic blanket. “I totally love spicy mustard, and it’s so sweet of you to pack it for us. Wanna hand me that bottle…?”

“Hear me out!” Trey protested, hand going for the mustard cap. “I promise I’m not going to try and squirt it all over the desserts or anything like that. We have a lot of sandwiches, and that’s a perfectly reasonable food to spread a little mustard on, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, for people who actually like mustard,” Ace said, following Cater’s lead and reaching for the bottle. “Give it.”

“You don’t have to do this to yourself, Trey,” Deuce added. “But it’s honorable that you want to change yourself for the better! Maybe I should follow your example and not pick out the bell peppers from my salad…”

Riddle shook his head and put a hand on Deuce’s shoulder. “There’s no need for either of you to be so drastic.”

“You almost tried that last time, too,” Ace added. “Two weird food martyrs aren’t gonna fix anything!”

Cater’s hand was on top of Trey’s. “Trey, hon, just let go of the bottle, and it’ll all be alright.”

Trey sighed and relinquished the mustard. “It’s really not as big a deal as you’re all making it out to be. No need for another intervention, okay?”

Cater pat Trey on the back with a smile. “Right, riiiight, it’s all good now, bestie.”

“Cater.”

“Okay! Crisis averted!” Cater shuffled back across the blanket towards the sandwich platter and away from Trey’s disapproving stare. “Now someone please help me decide on a pic to upload!”

After a couple of hours filled with photo picking, snacking, laughing, and of course, lots of bickering, it was time to pack up and return to the dorm. Cater, of course, needed to stop every few minutes and take another picture of the sky as the sun sunk below the horizon.

They arrived back at the dorm after dark, but they arrived together, having nearly forgotten the reason they’d chosen to go out on that day in particular in the first place. Heartslabyul was known for being one of the more socially extroverted dorms, after all, and for good reason.

Because in Heartslabyul, you are never truly alone.

#twisted wonderland #twst #heartslabyul #riddle rosehearts #cater diamond #trey clover #ace trapola #deuce spade #cereal writes

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zombiedumbie · 9 months

Text

01. BUT STILL, THEY LEAD ME BACK TO THE LONG, WINDING ROAD;

chapter 0 here.

my head was filled with this fanfic all week, so I had to keep going.

2521 words.

modern au, she/her reader, use of "y/n", cora being the clumsiest yet most loving human being in the world, swearing, heavy tw on post-traumatic stress, descriptions of heavy feelings. mdni!

The journey back to Flevance was peaceful. Law huddled in the passenger seat as he tried to rest his heavy, tired body, but he couldn't even close his eyes as he watched the familiar route. Rosinante held back from bombarding Law with questions as Law held back from yelling every time a car passed them, the beginning of the hangover affecting his body as well as his mind.

The blonde carefully drove the car; as much of a walking disaster and a danger to himself and others as he was, he always made an effort to make Law comfortable while driving (even though most of the time it was Trafalgar who took the wheel).

And he consistently avoided that section of the avenue that led to Flevance.

Not that Law was afraid to go there or anything like that. In fact, he had returned to that avenue many times before, taking the same route. However, it was quite noticeable how he audibly held his breath and clenched his eyes shut.

The white city waved at them with its rooftops and walls of the same color, bathed by the early morning sunlight. Neatly arranged gardens of clustered trees and perfectly trimmed and positioned bushes adorned the houses, with their white bricks and marble parapets. Some water fountains with intricate carvings adorned small squares along the way to his house.

The entire city seemed to come from a movie where everything in the world was perfect.

He remembered clearly walking around there holding hands with people whose faces he would have forgotten if not for the photos. He remembered the mischievous smiling little brat that everyone practically loved and was a big fan of walking around the city, just observing the architecture and the choice of monochromatic tones.

Now, Law felt disconnected from that place, where everything seemed to be only one color and the architecture seemed more of the same. The smile had been replaced by a scowl, and he had become worthy of being called a bitter old man. He felt like his listlessness was a blot of paint on a blank canvas, much like the faded patches on his skin; and so, he closed his eyes every time he passed through the streets of the white city.

Trafalgar sat on the stool in the kitchen, his fingers contracting before stretching under the cold counter. Corazón smiled as he put a kettle of water on to boil, then turned to the man, giving a big smile before launching into his famous session of questions.

"So... how was the party?!" The blonde asked, excited to know more. He leaned against the counter as if preparing to hear the biggest gossip of the year.

"Uhm..." He pondered for a while. "It was nice."

"And the others, did they go?" By "the others", he meant Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, and Ikkaku.

"Just not Bepo. But I ended up losing track of them at some point", and after that, I don't remember anything else. He thought to himself.

"Did you meet someone new?" Corazón had a smile on his lips, like a father trying to find out if his child had gotten a girlfriend.

Law rolled his eyes, realizing what Corazón was implying, but his cheeks burned with the memory as a smile threatened to invade his lips. "None of that. I met a girl, that's all".

Corazón's expression became slightly more serious, but his smile didn't completely disappear. "Oh, a girl? What was she like?"

"I don't know, I didn't pay much attention", Law replied, trying to sound casual, even though his mind was reliving the image of you on the beach. Due to exhaustion, the memory seemed more distant than it actually was.

"You don't pay much attention to your own love life, huh?" Corazón joked.

"I told you it's not like that, Cora-san!" Law replied, a bit annoyed. "We just talked. She helped me when I was... a bit out of it", Cora widened his eyes.

"'A bit out of it'...? What does that mean, Law?" The young man swallowed hard, realizing the mistake he had made. What was even worse was the element of surprise. Law didn't know how he would react. He might scold him or freak out because he had been irresponsible, or maybe he would just laugh.

But what followed really shocked him. Cora just shrugged and continued: "Actually, don't tell me. You're an adult now, I have no right to meddle in your life", the kettle whistled behind him, and he turned and calmly turned off the heat. What Law didn't see was the twitch in his eye as he launched into a rant about how Law was drinking at parties and how that was wrong and how he couldn't complain and how it was dangerous and how...

"Cora...? CORA-SAN!" Law shouted when he saw the man in front of him pour so much hot water into a glass that it overflowed, burning his hand.

After a session of shouting, cold water, and complaints, Cora was sitting on the stool, his hand submerged in the cold water and a few ice cubes. "Damn, Cora-san!" Law grumbled. "I can't take my eyes off you for a split second". Trafalgar was muttering as he watched the man in front of him breathe a sigh of relief.

"It's just my way", Cora smiled and tried to make a peace sign with his burnt hand, immediately plunging it back into the water when he felt the sting. Law slapped his forehead.

"I'm going to sleep for a bit", Law sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Take a shower too", Cora requested. "I can smell your stench from a mile away."

"HUH?!" Law looked incredulously at Cora, who was holding his nose between his burnt fingers, immediately putting his hand back in the water.

Trafalgar lay on the bed after a hot shower, wearing the most comfortable clothes he could find in his meticulously organized wardrobe. He was ready to sleep when his phone vibrated with some random notification from a game he had installed to pass the time. His yellow eyes opened reflexively, he unlocked the phone to set it to silent.

He looked at the screen for a while, it was almost 10 in the morning. Your contact was highlighted: "Y/N :p". Law bit his lips before pressing the message space. His fingers roamed the keyboard that appeared, thousands of things went through his mind, maybe he could send a joke or introduce himself, maybe this was his chance to thank you... Or maybe he could just send a "Hi, this is Law."

That's what he typed, but his fingers never dared to send the message, instead, he just threw his phone under the pillow and fell asleep.

He woke up hours later, his head aching, his throat dry, and he felt awful inside. Laughter echoed down the hallway to his room, making him sigh before getting up. Whoever was out there, he wouldn't want to face them. He looked for his phone to check the time, but a notification on his screen caught his attention: "'Y/N :p': 2 new messages".

Law's face turned red. What? Why did you send a message? He hadn't even said anything. Maybe you got his number, but why save yours on his phone?

Law sighed, rubbed his irritated eyes, rolled on the bed, sighed one more time, thought a bit more; and decided to ignore it. His phone stayed in the same place as always, beside the pillow, as he dragged his heavy body down the narrow corridor to the living room. There were Rosinante and Doflamingo along with a girl and a boy he never remembered the names of, but he always called them "Baby" and "Buffalo", respectively. He shuffled into the kitchen as if he hadn't seen them, grabbing water and searching for some medicine that could help him.

"Laaw!" He knew it wouldn't be that easy when he heard that girl's shrill voice pierce his tired eardrums.

"What do you want, Baby?" He didn't bother to turn to her, not needing to look to know that Buffalo was with her.

"Wow, is this how you treat me after not seeing me for so long?!" She sighed. For some reason, she started to think they were, somehow, cousins, and Law hated that in every possible way.

"I have a headache, leave me alone", he tried to get rid of her, just to hear another annoying voice.

"You're hungover, aren't you?" The voice was almost whiny, in a way that was funny to Law. He grumbled, turning to the two of them. He almost jumped in surprise when he saw Rosinante and Doflamingo right behind them.

"Cora-san... What did you tell them?" Law grumbled, Doflamingo laughed, scaring Baby and Buffalo who hadn't noticed them there.

"Relax, Law. He just said he had to get up really early to pick you up from a party", his guardian's brother said. Doflamingo always had a mocking tone in his voice, Law hated talking to him, mainly because he felt like he never took him seriously. He was like one of those uncles you adored when you were a kid, but when you grew up, you realized he was one of the worst human beings to ever walk the face of the earth.

Not that Doflamingo had done anything to Law, but his reputation wasn't the best due to his choice of profession. Law didn't even know how he had managed to get custody of these other two idiots.

"There's lunch in the fridge if you want to eat something, Law", Rosinante lovingly pointed out.

"Law going to parties, I can hardly believe it!" Baby exclaimed, seeming excited about the idea. "I thought you didn't go to parties, Law. Why did you go to this one?"

Law grumbled as he grabbed the plate of food from the fridge, carefully wrapped in plastic wrap. "Because I wanted to, you nosy little brat", he normally treated her badly, but his bad mood made it worse sometimes. "Now stop bothering me about it!"

He didn't need to turn to see the girl pout as she clung to Buffalo.

And that's how it was the whole time he was in the kitchen. Those two bothered him as he tried to eat his lunch (almost in the late afternoon) in peace, the siblings chatted quietly as they observed those 3. And after a light session of disturbance by Baby and Buffalo, Law responded impatiently:

"Fine, fine! I'll tell you why the fuck I went to a party!" he grumbled. "Now shut up."

The two sat properly on the chair, observing Law curiously, biting their lips in anticipation to hear his story. He ate a bit more of his lunch, wiped the remaining food on the knife with his fork, looked at them for a few more seconds, took a sip of his water, noisily placed the utensils back onto the plate.

"ARE YOU GOING TO TALK OR NOT?!" Baby yelled, irritated by Law's teasing, who smirked, satisfied with the reaction. Law knew how to be an annoying little brat when he wanted to.

"Okay, okay", he decided to stop torturing the two anxious people in front of him. "I literally went because I wanted to. I heard there was a party, and my friends were going, so I invited myself to go with them", he said it as if it were so simple. The two looked at him incredulously; there was a very important point in the story that Law wasn't telling.

"But you didn't even want to leave the house!" Buffalo replied. "You spent years without going out!" Law grumbled.

It was true, after the accident, Law spent practically years not wanting to leave the house. The idea of facing the world outside the walls of his home became terrifying; suddenly, everything became dangerous, deadly. The noise of cars passing by the street in front of his house stressed him out, bright lights were dreadful, any shout made his heart race, blood made him sick. Even sirens were disturbing.

The little boy had gone through hell that day; all he wanted was to avoid all of this happening again.

And worst of all, by leaving the house, everyone would look at him with pity, treat him like he was just a poor victim instead of a human being. It was obvious that he was traumatized by everything that had happened, and people looking at him like that, constantly reminding him of who he was and what had happened, added an extra pinch of fear to the constant dread of getting hurt again.

"But now I do go out," he retorted, his heart was pounding hard and his cheeks flushed. "I'm in college now, aren't I?! I have to get out of the fucking house! So, don't bother me about it anymore!" Law stood up, annoyed. He left his dirty plate in the sink before heading back to his room with heavy steps, taking deep breaths.

He could still feel the trembling hands and the racing heart of that frightened boy. The memories of the accident still hit him like a punch to the stomach, suffocating him with the paralyzing fear he experienced on that terrible day.

It took a long time for Law to start living without fear, like a human, he would say. At the beginning, everything was much harder, the constant visits from neighbors, the constant messages of condolences, and the thinly veiled looks that were never as discreet as they seemed made him feel like an ant. The only people who looked at him as a person and not as a victim were Rosinante and a small group of friends from his old school: Bepo, Shachi, Penguin, and Ikkaku.

Talking about it with people who seemed to lack even the slightest bit of sensitivity felt like walking along a long and winding road of memories.

Law threw himself on the bed, banging his head against the pillow several times, trying to somehow clear his mind. Unintentionally, he hit his phone, which slid under the pillow due to the impacts of his face against the bed, causing it to hit the hard surface of his nose.

He groaned in pain, clutching his nose with his hands and applying pressure, a small tear escaping his eye. When the pain subsided, he felt an urge to laugh at his own stupidity.

"'Y/N :p': 2 new messages."

He sighed before opening the messages, deciding he had ignored you for too long. That's when he realized the mistake: "Hi, this is Law." He had sent the message by mistake. His face heated up as if somehow he had just embarrassed himself by just talking to you.

"'Y/N :p': hi law!!!! sorry, i was working, just saw the message now".

"'Y/N :p': how r u??"

The messages had been sent a few hours after his message. Law cleared his throat, trying to shake off the feeling of needing to justify himself for sending you a message. He thought for a few minutes about what to reply; there was nothing specific he wanted to talk to you about, just to thank you for helping at the party, but even so, he felt like he should say more than just "thanks for helping me."

"'Law': I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"'Law': Are you working on a Sunday?"

He wanted to chew off his own hand for writing something that, in his anxious head, was so stupid.

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar d law #trafalgar d water law #law one piece #one piece fanfic #law x you #law fanfic #law x reader #one piece x you #zombiedumbie writing

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bridgertonbabe · 4 months

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Do you have any Mrs and Mr Crabtree head cannons?

I like to think Mrs Crabtree is beside herself with glee when she discovers Sophie is her new mistress. She becomes like the mother Sophie never had. She also figures out Sophie is Pregnant before even she does.

Mrs Crabtree definitely establishes herself as Sophie's maternal figure and while she of course does all she can to provide her mistress with the care and support that she was so cruelly denied over the years, she isn't afraid to utilise her authority as Sophie's elder whenever the lady of the house proves to be stubborn. It's Mrs Crabtree who has to back up Benedict when Sophie still tries to play servant upon her return to My Cottage as Mrs Bridgerton, and while Benedict's encouragement to sit back and relax falls on deaf ears, Mrs Crabtree's order to keep out of the kitchen and quit doing chores is very much followed.

It's Mrs Crabtree who takes it upon herself to retrain Sophie to be the lady she was raised to be. She advises Benedict to purchase materials for sewing and embroidery to keep his wife occupied, as well as mentioning his wife might perhaps be able to play the pianoforte if one was purchased for My Cottage. "I wasn't aware Sophie could play. Do you know that for a fact?" he enquired. "Only one way to know for sure." Mrs Crabtree replied matter-of-factly before carrying on with her daily tasks.

While Mrs Crabtree and Benedict teamed up to chide Sophie any time she tried to be of any assistance with the household chores, Mr. Crabtree very kindly made allowances for the mistress of the house, who quite clearly liked to be doing something rather than nothing. Many a time he would turn a blind eye whenever he caught her making herself some tea on the kitchen stove or polishing the cutlery. One time he walked in on her using her sewing needle not for the cushion she was meant to be embroidering but darning some of her clothes. "Please don't tell Mrs Crabtree." Sophie swallowed nervously. "Tell her what? I didn't see a thing." Mr. Crabtree shrugged with feigned ignorance but gave her a knowing wink before leaving the mistress to her task.

Mrs Crabtree thoroughly enjoyed whenever Benedict's family came to visit and was particularly amused by the informality of his youngest sister who didn't hesitate to fill her in on the awful cow of a stepmother Sophie had suffered under the hands of. She took a lot of pleasure in her bitch sessions with Hyacinth, and the young lady was always eager to pull her aside during her visits and inform her of any gossip on Araminta and any pranks she had pulled on the odious woman, pranks which Mrs Crabtree would give her a approving pat on the back for pulling.

On a hot summer's day Sophie and Benedict had gone for a stroll on the estate and after some time Mrs Crabtree sent her husband out to track down their employees and ask whether they would like a picnic prepared and brought out to them. However minutes later Mr. Crabtree came hurrying back from the direction of the lake. "Did they want-" his wife began to ask. "No, no, no. Not at all." Mr. Crabtree replied in a rush. "Are they sure-" "Absolutely. I'm sure if they wanted to have a picnic they would have asked in advance." Mr. Crabtree insisted, though his wife found it odd just how red he had gone and how he couldn't quite meet her eye and was keen to drop the subject altogether - oblivious to the eyeful her husband had gotten when he had gone in search of the young couple.

#asks #bridgerton headcanons #mrs crabtree #mr crabtree

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bensonsbobblehead · 1 year

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Ready — Olivia benson x Daughter!oc

Pairings; Olivia Benson x Daughter!OC

Content warnings: talks of sex and bc

wc; 0.8k

summary; Olivia’s daughter is nervous about her favorite person meeting her new favorite person.

[ masterlist ]

Carly honestly wanted nothing more than her two favorite people to meet. Her first favorite being her mama. Olivia had always been Carlys go too because her mom never ever judged her. She was exactly alike and different from Olivia. She was strong and independent among other things.

Carly always managed to bring the silly out of Olivia especially since her job didn’t bring her much joy. Olivia loved her job but to often she would imagine Carly in some victims shoes. Coming back home to her was her favorite thing. It was also Carly’s favorite part of the day until she met Jasper.

They met on her way to the station when they ran into each other, literally. They had always went to school together but never crossed paths until the train. He’s so sweet to Carly, always calling her when he can. Jasper was the oldest of 4 and the only boy in his household. He helped his mom tremendously, raising three girls alone was tough so he mostly spent time playing, taking them to the park, helping them with homework, anything he could to ease his moms stress.

Carly’s favorite thing was hearing about all the gossip going on in the middle and elementary school. Carly had been to the park with Jasper and his sisters. Really any public place they both didn’t want to seem like they were sneaking. Per Jaspers request, he really loved Carly and wanted nothing but approval from the woman that raised her.

Another reason Carly was telling her mom because she and Jasper were ready to take it to the next level. They had been together for a while now with a few make out sessions but that’s it. It’s never gotten to spicy for them though until recently when they were making out and Jaspers hand touched her ass. It freaked him out more than her and it sparked the “are we ready?” conversation. Carly definitely needed her mom for this so she had to tell her.

After the case was over Olivia rushed home. Carly texted her that they needed to have an important conversation and Olivia should be “open minded” to what she had to say. Olivia was a bit worried at first of course.

Olivia opened the door to the apartment walking in to the kitchen where Carly was. She was in her moms NYPD hoodie and biker shorts with fuzzy socks.

“Hey mom” Carly said softly not hiding her nervousness at all,

“Don’t give me that sweetness, what was that text about.” Asking as the pair headed to the couch, Carly sitting across from her mom.

“I’ll just spit it out.. I have a boyfriend that I really like, like a lot and of course he likes me a lot too. His name is Jaspers and he’s super nice to me and also very sweet and I think I’m ready to have sex with him I actually know I am because we both talked and he’s ready but I want you to meet him and know him and also help me with the sex part —-“

Carly rambled on without taking a breath, Olivia putting a soft hand on her lnee.

“Breathe Carly” she laughed,

“First, I’m happy you found someone you like I can tell he makes you happy. Secondly, I would love to meet him.”

Olivia smiled at her daughter with Carly smiling back nervously with silence covering the room.

“And the other part?” Carly bit her lip with the anticipation of being yelled at.

“I’m glad you told me and I understand that you’re ready for that but are you sure you’re ready sweetie?” Olivia hadn’t met Jasper yet and the detective in her wanted to make sure it was fullyCarly’s decision.

“Yeah I’m sure, Jasper wouldn’t hurt me or do anything I don’t want to do. I’m just afraid that he won’t like it or that I won’t like it. Like what if it hurts?”She asked her mom curiously,

“That’s understandable, you both just have to find what works for you. It’s all trial and error. If it does hurt I’m sure he would stop if you’re uncomfortable and same for you.” Olivia smiled dearly at her daughter,

“It’s about what makes you both happy but I do think we need to get you on birth control.”

“Okay, thank you so much for not judging or being mad at me.” The girl was afraid that her mom would react in a completely different way. Afraid she would get in trouble for wanting and having a boyfriend.

“I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to be your mama.” She pulled Carly into a hug placing a long kiss on her cheek.

The birth control talk came when Carly first turned 16. At the time sex and love was not in Carlys vision at all. So her and Olivia both agreed that when she was ready she would.

Olivia always wondered how she managed to raise such a beautiful girl. She was always in awe of Carly and her beautiful nature.

“So when can I meet him?” Olivia asked as Carly began to ramble out a whole plan. Seeing her daughter happy made everything worth it.

#Olivia benson #olivia benson x daughter #olivia benson mom #olivia benson x daughter!oc #olivia benson daughter #svu daughter #mom Olivia benson #svu #law & order: svu

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iliektehhaxs · 3 months

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routine gal pal days with bene would fix me. her nails in the caer norvant fight were perfect glossy and unchipped even when she lost control and primed. i like to imagine she does them herself and also for wifey when they get their (slightly erotic) best friendship established.

gossip sessions of the century whilst ur nails all dry, she puts a B on one of them, barnabas thinks it’s in reference to him but benedikta makes use of the shared first letter in their names and it’s actually her version of a friendship bracelet- one of her nails has the letter of wifey’s first name.

For some reason I’m imagining full mean girls/ grease levels of gossiping, I’m talking robe on, tissue between the toes so you dont ruin your pedicure, rollers in the hair just gossiping like it’s your job. At one point you mention a diplomat you had a meeting with yesterday, to which she says—

“Oh yeah, he’s cheating on his wife.”

“No!” You gasp. “You’re joking, say you’re lying right now!”

“I’d be a liar if I listened to you!” She cackles, drinking whatever fruity concoction the kitchen staff was serving today. “I swear, he is.”

“Nope, I won’t hear it, don’t tell me anything,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. After a moment you break, turning back to the Intelligencer with open ears.

“I lied, tell me everything.”

#robo speaks #ask #benedikta harman #god I’m a sucker for relationships like this

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ceeyuin666 · 8 months

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May I please ask for the reactions of Malfie, Apple Poison, Ms. Hades, Joe and Farja reactions to their au selves.

Malachite, Cece, Vince, Nadia, Joe

Ooh such interesting characters! I'll do my best to answer, please bare in mind this is from my own takes on the Recruiters and of course are in no way "canon". Feel free to take or leave whatever details you prefer!

(Edit, sorry, forgot Joe!)

Maflie and Malachite: Malfie is always excited to meet any other version of himself, the only ones he could ever consider as beautiful as himself would be other versions of himself. They'd both hit it off quickly, friendly enough and of course sharing a special bond. I think they'd enjoy conversations about books together, relaxing together and just each other's company in general. Malfie is a little more quiet about who is dear to him but I think he would admire how Malachite loves openly.

Ms. Hades and Cece: Ms. Hades might start out as standoffish because she is weary of someone so similar to her. But after being able to get to know each other, they might enjoy sneaky little sessions of gossiping about their family (blood or found family both).

Ms. Hades isn't too well versed in video games but I think if Cece were to introduce them to her, they would make a good team and have a lot of fun together.

Apple and Vince: I see them just sitting next to each other and you think they're both antisocial but really it's just that they're comfortable in the silence. They don't need to speak much to know they can be relaxed around each other- this might make it hard to get close to them though.

If you put them in a kitchen I think you'd be surprised how well they'd suddenly get along. It sounds like they have similar tastes and would actually quite like cooking for everyone.

Farja and Nadia: Birds of a feather, that's the expression right? I imagine these two would become loud and fun from the get go. They'd want to party together all the time and show off their style and beautiful hair to anyone and everyone that will listen- and likely those that won't as well.

I think the two would be a lot of fun, maybe to the disdain of some of the others haha! They'd probably go out together all the time, going to eat yummy foods, shopping for clothes, getting their hair done, etc!

Eightfoot and Joe: These two may get along the least, but not because they don't like each other, they're both just quite dedicated to their work. I think they'd moan and groan at each other, Eightfoot would probably just pity Joe as another slave to his work- even though they are in the same boat.

They will get along well enough when they have to, and I think they silently like each other's company but ultimately are too set in their own ways to be too buddy-buddy.

#admin answers

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mediocre-daydreams · 1 year

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Hello! I would love to submit for Adder Stone (Marauders era), any gender! I’m She/Her, plus size and I am 4’8(4’9 on a good day lol). I have shortish purple and blue hair and wear glasses. I love reading, baking and traveling (specifically to museums)! I’ve been told I’m the definition of sunshine and I just love meeting new people and making friends! And every test I’ve ever taken has said I’m a hufflepuff haha

hello!! it’s so nice to hear from u again :) u reminded me to take an updated house test and all of a sudden i'm a gryffindor ?? i went from ravenclaw to slytherin which i feel like makes sense but then the slytherin -> gryffindor jump seems less straightforward but anyway back to you.......

i feel like u and lily could be so cute tbh

lily’s a bit wary of james, and one of the reasons she doesn’t find him attractive is because he’s so fucking loud. lily has enough spunk in her and sometimes she just wants to feel cherished and understood, rather than an object to be chased. there’s nothing wrong with him, per se, but she just doesn’t think they click.

she tries to like him for a while. after all, james potter—rich, handsome, athletic, rich james potter—is pursuing her. the only logical thing to do is reciprocate, right?

well, lily isn’t a ravenclaw, so she doesn’t take the logical route. she finds herself completely enamored of you. as her feelings for you mature from platonic to romantic, she begins to pull away for seemingly no reason. nobody can really explain why, not even lily. you make her heart pound in a way she’s never experienced, even more than that time she was halfway through her history of magic O.W.L.S. and realized she’d completely forgotten to study the goblin insurrection.

she thinks it’s kind of ironic that you’re the one to confront her. you catch her outside the gryffindor common room and demand to know why she’d been ignoring you. the way you look up at her, not even angry, but concerned, makes the guilt bubble up and the confession start to creep up her throat. there’s a noise, and lily’s head whips around and bloody hell, why do the marauders always pop up at the most inopportune time?

lily pushes you away. again, and again, and again.

apparently, you only know how much you love someone when you don’t have them anymore. that seems very true for both of you. you miss your weekly bookclubs (which was just an excuse for you and lily to curl up in her bed and daydream about what it would be like to live in a different world) and you miss how she’d grow flowers in colors that matched your hair every time she came up to the hufflepuff common room.

lily misses your late night kitchen raids and gossip sessions with the house elves. she misses the taste of your baking and she missed the way you’d make fun of her for getting flour all over her robes when she tried to help you mix. (secretly, lily would make the mess and hope you’d lend her some of your clothes. you weren’t the same size, but lily didn’t mind short robes when they smelled like you and when everyone could tell they were yours. it made her feel like your girlfriend.) recently, lily’s been finding herself spending hours at the library until the sun sets and madam pince is ushering her out. usually, you’d be there with little reminders to eat and hydrate, but lily had been the one to push you out. her life was quieter and duller without you and your endless laughter and unconditional friendship and… and love?

lily spends the next week pouring her heart out to her journal and then all of sunday evening crying to marlene about how she feels toward you. why must she make everything harder for herself? she just always has to defend muggleborns and vie for top student and run tutoring sessions and do this and do that and why did she have to go and fall in love with you?

lily can’t see how she wasn’t supposed to. you were you. in lily’s eyes, the fact that everyone wasn’t in love with you was much odder than her being a girl in love with another girl. with a little encouragement (and a couple butterbeers), lily decided she would tell you how she felt the next time she saw you.

from the outside, it seemed everything had gone back to normal. the wrongs had been righted and the ends had been tied. but when lily told you she loved you, the courses of your lives were indefinitely changed. it was funny in a frustrating way how long it had taken the both of you to realize how perfect you were for each other. you were the yellow sunshine to lily’s gryffindor gold. lily was the wistful afternoons spent skipping rocks by the black lake and you were the careful fingers weaving flower crowns, like promise rings.

#1k followers celebration

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hellmouth-manor · 3 months

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we'll make it beautiful || arisa || finale

So, this was it, then? A finale fit for some children’s show filled with singing animals and bright skies. It wasn’t something that notched itself inside of Arisa’s worldview, felt more like a made-up bunch of nonsense than something you could see happen with your own eyes. But, well, lots of things had happened recently that she didn’t think could, haven’t they? It takes just a brief look around at the people near her and those working to protect or attack off in the distance.

A briar rose growing in the mess of foliage in an overgrown garden has to fight to survive. It has to push the other sprouts beneath it and reach for ever-higher heights. There’s only so much sunlight in the dense brush of humanity, and there’s only so much water to go around. If you’re not willing to grow taller, use your leaves to block the sun from reaching those under you and soak up even more of the precious rays, then you’re going to die. Plain and simple.

As the stem of the rose grows taller still, it becomes an enticing prize for anyone brave enough to attempt to cross the overgrown garden. Its petals are soft, blushing things, and the morning dew shines on its surface. Wandering hands that seek to abuse it, take it for their own, instead flinch away with red blooms pouring forth from supple skin. The rust-colored flecks that then stain the sharp thorns of the flower are a warning to all who approach and a testament to this briar’s fixation on survival.

But even wild roses can be cultivated, in a way, among like-minded wildflowers.

The people here who she cares for are messy, uncultivated things that no flower shop or botanical garden would welcome inside.

To her, they’re beautiful.

Ruby and her ability to find her own path, no matter how many wrong turns she might take along the way. The woman’s never going to be a pro-baker, and she’s certainly never going to be a villainess on a reality TV show, but she’s Ruby, and that’s enough. More than enough.

Yukiko and her endless verve and grit. Someone who can go about their life without a hint of apology on their lips all while enjoying the innate excitement that comes with the underbelly of the world–that’s the kind of person Arisa can’t help but admire. It’s not every day that she meets someone who gives her a run for her gossiping money.

Minami and her familiar pride and unending tenacity. Arisa never felt she could meet someone as bullheaded as her, but stranger things have happened in the world, and this is a phenomena that she’s happy to bear witness to. If anything, Minami makes Arisa wonder if those high school cliques ever had any meat to their purpose–a cheap beer MILF and a tequila girlie made it work, after all.

Eli and his goodness. He is precisely the kind of person who Arisa never allows herself to get very near to, knowing full well that she will cause his life to crumble in her hands, even if she doesn’t want it to, but, with his understanding of monsters and brightness, she thinks he may be the first “good” person to be able to survive. He’s lasted this long through this much, hasn’t he?

Olwin and his charm. Thinking back to the first day in the manor and the little game they proposed to pass the time made Arisa reel a bit. They were simpler times, but being around Olwin is a simple thing. Spending time with someone you’ve come to see as family has always been the simplest thing for Arisa, whether it be during sleep-deprived moments in the kitchen or gossip sessions at the jazz lounge. It’ll continue to be simple for as long as he’ll let her enjoy it.

Hisashi and his understanding. “Understanding” and “Hisashi” may not seem to go together upon first glance, but from the moment they shared that first glass of boxed wine over empty promises to definitely get coffee after the party, she’d felt a sort of kinship with him. It was an understanding initially consisting only of “I won’t tell if you won’t tell” that morphed into what people like them might be able to call empathy. Now, between stammered words on her bedroom floor and gentle embraces unbefitting people like them, she’s not sure what she would call what’s between them. Maybe the most fitting name for it is “something new.”

To Arisa, they’re worth fighting for–worth bearing thorns in defense of another, not of herself.

The sound of snapping that accompanies the string that had been making its way around her ankle breaks her from her thoughts, and her head whips down to see it falling to the ground as the wing from Alou drops under Hisashi and Olwin’s assault. From the battering he’s taken from the others and Ruby holding him down, Arisa figures that he’s not going much of anywhere, which means…

She will never claim to be a smart woman, just like she will never claim to be a good woman. However, there are a few things that come to her as naturally as breathing. Her eyes trace strings that hang taut still in the air, and she follows them up and up and up, creeping closer towards the beast that the already-beastly man has turned into. Trajectories (though she doesn’t know that word) form in her mind, and she slips her jacket off, letting it tumble to the ground.

[♫♫♫]

A thin strand glints in the light from one of the sparkles given to the group by Raoul, and she can chart a path right up to Alou’s newly-created blind side–well, maybe not blind, but he certainly can’t be doing good, can he?–courtesy of Eli.

Backing up several yards, she then takes off into a sprint. Before her, a springboard materializes, and she takes the leap, bounding off of it and feeling her fingers wrap around the first “step” of her journey upwards.

Her body moves what appears to be effortlessly. She swings back and forth on the initial string. This wasn’t so different from the uneven bars, you know. She’d always felt like they were her strongest event next to the floor routine. Call it a god complex thing, but feeling herself twirl and twist her body in incredible ways above anyone else in the arena was a sort of thrill that she’ll always chase, even now.

Arisa gains more and more momentum as she goes back and forth, back and forth until she lets go at the zenith and her fingers curl once again around the next strand.

She doesn’t need magic or hope or soul energy to make the trek upwards. She’s always had that in her, so, well, maybe it’s less her soul’s magic and more…that magic has already seeped into her very bones and marrow, every flex of every muscle. It’s worked side by side with her for her entire life to get her exactly where she is at this moment. It wasn’t there with her for the time within the manor, but it’s flexing, expanding, contracting with the new bits of her she’s collected throughout the show.

Reaching her destination, she continues to hang suspended in the air, conscious to keep her momentum going even as she has no more clear path forward. She knew where she wanted to end up, but, now that she’s made it here, she assesses the best approach. Bound and beaten as Alou is, it doesn’t take long for Arisa to find exactly what she’s interested in.

It figures, you know, that at the core of Alou there would be a conscience resembling prey. Looking at the beast in front of them, you might mistake it for the apex predator here, but that’s just not correct. This food chain in the manor is filled with vicious things–no, people–that will tear you limb from limb and relish in the snap of tendon and crunch of gristle between their teeth. Arisa is no different.

Her jaw is honed from years of holding the necks of pathetic, sniveling people between her fangs and inserting her incisors just enough that they start to beg for any chance at all to escape, pleading with her and offering anything they can think to get away with their lives. She knows what it means to hold a heart in your hands and knows even more what it feels like to have it there because your own hand ripped it out. She knows weak points and vitals where a hit means a loss. She knows how to make an injury hurt so much you wish it had killed you instead.

With a final swing, she aims for her target: one of Alou’s many limbs. In her now-free hands, cat claw weapons form, and her fists curl around them. She lands true and digs the spokes into his limb as she slides down towards the ground along his fur. The incisions aren’t the deepest or most egregious injury he’s weathered thus far, but they were never meant to be.

The burning comes from the inside, hot and stabbing. The pain of the lacerations is nothing compared to the sting of the toxins that coat her weapons.

A fleeting thought is given to a conversation from so long ago about love and pride and how god-like he must feel, knowing he thinks he can love a toxic, rotten thing like her. It had felt impossible then for anyone to do such a thing and mean it, to live to tell the tale. Now, though, it feels less like an impossibility and more of a distant future. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on her end, but, some place and some time, maybe she will be loved by the people she knows she cares about.

Maybe she can learn to love them, too.

She’s heard people can build up an immunity to poisons–didn’t Yukiko already prove that she could do such a thing?–so doesn’t it only make sense that the poison sludge inside of her could be resisted, too? Doesn’t it only make sense that there may be no need to fear her self being a death sentence?

If she was truly so terrible, wouldn’t her soul have hurt to hold? And yet, it was carried back to her, held in the hands of another who still stands.

Her feet plant firmly on the ground, and she rips the claws free from the lavender limb in front of her. The hand–talon–thing of the limb she just rode down sits so tantalizingly close…and when has she ever been one to turn down indulgences, sinful as they may be? Besides, does it really count when it’s against something like him?

Raising her right foot, she stomps down hard, digging her heel into the space between the joints of its digits. With a sick grin on her face, she relishes the give of flesh and shifting of bone. What was it that the design notes said? 1600-2200 PSI? She didn’t know how much a PSI was, but she doubted she needed a demon form to make it feel like that–just enough ego to make it count.

Perhaps it’s meant to be an insult, the way she only lightly jogs away from him once all that she has to offer is said and done, but, truthfully, he doesn’t occupy enough space in her mind for the idea to occur to her now that her rage is vented, and she knows that there’s nothing more she can do.

No, the space the Game Master occupied can instead be used to house cheers of encouragement for the people around her–the people she adores, the ones she may one day even be able to say she loves.

Arisa Oshiro has always known how to survive. Now, gazing at the future in front of her, she looks forward to learning how to live.

#mm trial #heather

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lyriccl · 7 months

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Prompts that Give Me Good Stims | Accepting!

@suitopi asked: [ DANCE ]: when alone together (e.g. the bedroom, the kitchen, literally anywhere once they’re alone) the sender takes the receiver’s hand, and pulls them into a graceful yet intimate dance as a spontaneous act. // Asmo because why not

At first, Emma thought Asmodeus would be someone to be very wary of. He did try to charm her on their first meeting, after all. Plus the constant reminders of the power imbalance she had with everyone around her, at first she contemplated forming cordial but distant relationships with the people here to get by for the year.

But the more she learned and the more comfortable she became with her surroundings, Emma now considered the Devildom a home, and the brothers her greatest friends. She now actively sought Asmo on most occasions, whether it was a pampering session, gossip dump, or just hanging out in each other's presence. Now was one such time, but this time Emma had gotten the idea to play some of her music for him.

She let out a surprised gasp when the demon suddenly pulled her to her feet during this song. It took her a second to process that Asmo wanted to dance, but soon she was smiling joyously and keeping time with the music.

One song turned to two, then three, then several. Sometimes the tempo would be upbeat and fast, but the song playing now was slow and romantic. The smile had never faded from Emma's face, and neither had Asmo's. She realized in this moment she was feeling true bliss; something she had so rarely gotten before her time in the exchange program.

"I never want this happiness to end."

#suitopi #' fan mail! ' | asks #// this is so cute and soft I love it #' the world of demons ; all i feel is love. ' | obey me

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jakecstasy · 3 years

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≡ BOYFRIEND BEOMGYU HEADCANONS !

requested. neutral!reader, fluff, includes angst, includes idol!au, 0,9k words. to see the basic rules for requesting, click here.

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS TXT POST

— DATES ... !

deep, healing laughs as he pretends to play a ballad for you in the practice room. hanging out in the small room with the chairs glued to each other, just the two of you and the variety of songs that beomgyu can come up with while feeling playful. a lot of selfies and videos with the most ridiculous effects that you can find on each other's phones.

a real and organized dinner somewhere you feel safe in. neither of you is a fan of fancy restaurants, which is why dinner is about the classic barbecue that leaves you full and happy. feeding each other between conversations and gossip.

a spontaneous picnic after a long day. sharing snacks on a blanket in the pleasant weather, resting your head on his chest while watching the clouds in silence. pluck small flowers harmlessly to put in his hair and observe how his eyes sparkle when looking up at you so concentrated.

— LOVE LANGUAGE ... !

play video games together. fight wholeheartedly because you never play on the same team and always end up killing each other's character. always distracting the other with a kiss and pretending to be disgusted about it.

having the same ridiculous and extra sense of humor that always makes both laugh at the most inopportune moments. giggling just for the sake of meeting glances. having inside jokes that none of the other members nor friends understand.

take care of each other passively-aggressively. "yo, dummy, do you want to get sick and look like a disgusting zombie for a week?" he says while he closes your jacket for you not to get cold. "are you ever going to stop eating like a child?" you say while wiping the rest of the food from his lips. "terrible outfit y/n ― here, put on my hoodie" he says as an excuse to cover you with his clothes.

— KISSES ... !

avoiding displays of public affection, with the exception of small kisses on the hand when these are intertwined or on the shoulder when you are leaning on the other and do so unconsciously.

beomgyu always appears behind you to lean in and kiss your cheek when he greets you, and you always say goodbye to him pressing a small kiss on his lips. if he feels the need for more, he takes your arm to pull you back to his body and elongate that little smooch. his hand always pressed on your back so you don't walk away until is enough for him.

in privacy, deeper and more passionate kisses. signaling you with his hand to come closer, trapping you between his legs and bringing his hands to your waist to kiss you from the comfort of his seat. he loves the feeling of your fingers in his hair as he presses you between his arms.

— DOMESTIC LIFE ... !

laziness. with beomgyu, there's no such thing as getting up and lovingly meeting gazes because he's almost always snoring when you already woke up long ago. snuggling your head on his back or playing with his hair while he's still sleeping is very common on your part.

make breakfast on your own, and wake him up by the smell of the food and the sound coming from the kitchen. being attached to each other next to the counter, having him playfully pressing behind you to have any kind of bite. if he wakes up more clingy than normal, he just lets you turn around to corner you and insist that you kiss him. you ignore him and eat the toast in your hand only to watch him turn whiny and make fun of him later.

a funny and comfortable moment sharing musical tastes and awesome dancing skills while washing the dishes. turning a simple hang out in your apartment into a deep cleaning session, loud music coming through the speakers and stopping mid-sweep to do a musical number with the song. singing together, even if you can't sing.

— HARD TIMES ... !

always try to get a smile from the other in times of anguish/stress, but also know when to get serious. a lot of physical reassuring instead of talking. beomgyu has the habit of sliding his hand along your back while resting his chin on your shoulder, or the other way around, stroking your hair when you bury your head on his shoulder because it makes you feel safe that he can hold your entire figure in his arms. a little kiss on your forehead if you're tall enough.

discussions that are unavoidable but never end in anger or resentment. always take some hours to let the fumes go down and then come back next to each other to talk. brushing pinkies with fear of grabbing the other's hand entirely but needing the assurance that everything is still fine.

sleep as the solution to (almost) everything. if the day has been overwhelming, all it takes is hiding under the covers clinging to each other until you wake up and start over. if the discussion has been cleared up, the reconciliation manifests itself in the form of the trust and intimacy of holding each other in the bed.

— OVERALL ... !

a really loud best friend who didn't stop being such after becoming a romantic interest. a real soulmate with the funniest and most interesting personality that complements yours perfectly.

a protective boyfriend who will always seek to earn your trust above any other quality, seeking to maintain that little childish side that you lose when you get into an adult relationship.

a lover who doesn't have to remind you how beautiful or how incredible you are, because his gaze and safe way of unwind himself when he's with you says it all.

🧸 . . . thanks for reading !

#txt imagines #txt x reader #txt reactions #txt headcanons #txt scenarios #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together imagines #tomorrow x together scenarios

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