#either way they’ll be up real soon

[skyward-floored]

“Hero, what ails you?” - Chapter 1

I wrote this fic after finishing twilight princess over a year ago, since I was full-on captivated by the Hero’s Shade and his whole deal. I’m so attached to the Hero of Time, and that hasn’t changed a bit over the years, and I love making him a dad hehe

Anyways this has been posted on ao3 but due to some recent events I don’t feel like explaining again, I’m crossposting it here. Please enjoy tp Link getting sick and the Hero’s Shade being a Dad while attempting to deny it the entire time <3

First (you’re here) | Chapter Two

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The Hero’s Shade sat and waited patiently in wolf form for his young successor to arrive.

As he waited, a few flakes of shimmering snow wafted past his muzzle and he breathed out with a huff, watching them drift past. The snow wasn’t cold, nor was it really snow, but it was the closest thing the Shade could compare it to.

It was calming to watch, and kept him occupied while he waited.

He’d already initiated contact with the boy. He merely had to wake up and accept, but he seemed to be taking his time today. It had already been several minutes longer then it usually took him to arrive and he was starting to grow concerned.

But a few moments later, the boy appeared on the ground, lying prone as always. It always took him a moment to get accustomed to this realm, which was understandable. This was not a land for living flesh.

The boy took several moments longer then he typically did to stand, but once he did he met his gaze as usual, giving the wolf a determined look.

The Shade nodded then howled, changing seamlessly from a wolf into his more human form.

“We meet again,” he rumbled, not bothering to obscure the fond note he knew was there. The boy gave him a small smile and returned the greeting, though his face wasn’t as eager as it usually was when he arrived here to learn a new skill. The Shade frowned to himself, but perhaps the boy was merely feeling the stress of his journey more harshly now that the castle was blocked off.

“Before I teach you my next hidden skill, prove to me you still recall the technique of the last lesson,” he continued. “Show me the Helm Splitter!”

He drew his sword and allowed the boy to do the same, then advanced on him. The boy watched him carefully, studying his movement, then leveled his shield and thrust it forwards once the Shade was close enough. Then he bent his knees and jumped, trying to land a hit on his head.

Except he fumbled the blade and nearly tripped over his own two feet when he attempted the move.

The Shade stopped, disappointment flowing through him. He was certain the boy had mastered this skill, yet here he was acting as if he hadn’t even learned it in the first place.

“What ails you? Do you require a reminder of the technique?” he asked.

The boy stumbled a bit as he regained his balance, then jerked his head in an apologetic bow. “N-no, I remember how to do it, I apologize. I’ll try again.”

The Shade paused, hearing something in his voice. Was that a faint rasp?

He took a small step forward and studied his protégé’s face. Now that he was closer he wasn’t sure how he’d missed it. The boy was concerningly pale, though his cheeks were bright and rosy compared to the pallor of the rest of his skin. He seemed to be fighting to remain upright if the trembling of his limbs were any indication, and a thin sheen of sweat shone on his face despite the fact they’d barely even begun the session.

He obviously was not in fighting condition.

The boy raised his sword and started for the Shade again, but he held out a gloved hand to stop him.

“Hero... you are not well,” he said in a softer voice then he usually used on him.

The boy blinked a few times then shook his head, gripping his sword more tightly.

“No, I’m f-fine. It’s just a bit of a cold.”

The Shade narrowed his eye. “A “bit of a cold” would not leave you shaking like a newborn foal, young one.”

The hero gritted his teeth and managed to get the shaking in his legs under control. “I said I’m fine. Allow me to show you I’ve mastered the previous skill.”

The Shade sighed. The boy obviously would not be swayed, to his own detriment.

“Very well. Come at me.”

He raised his sword and slowly advanced on the boy again, and Link darted forward, shield raised and sword ready.

The Shade eyed him carefully, even more so than usual, watching how it seemed to take him more effort to raise his shield and the way he moved much more slowly. The boy, seemingly oblivious of his enhanced watchfulness, ran forwards and repeated the action of bashing his shield against the Shade, then tried to leap into the air.

This time instead of jumping up he lurched to the side, clutching his forehead and looking dizzy.

He started to fall over backwards, and would’ve hit the ground if the Shade hadn’t jumped forward and caught him. He lowered him gently to the floor and gave the boy a stern look, and Link seemed to shrink in his hold, eyes downcast.

“How long has your condition been like this?” he questioned, cutting to the chase.

Link didn’t meet his eye. “Only a day or so,” he whispered, rasp more noticeable now.

“Where were you last?”

“Snowpeak... the temperatures there were a lot, but I-I had to keep going... I need to keep going. If Zant isn’t stopped—”

“You are in no condition to do anything at the moment,” Shade said sternly. “If you faced the usurper as you are now, he would kill you without a second thought, no less any other enemies. You need to rest.”

He removed his glove and brushed a ghostly hand over Link’s forehead as he spoke. It was hot, much hotter than it should be, and the boy sneezed as he checked, trembling in his hold.

“Did you wear proper equipment at Snowpeak?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.

Link swallowed. “Spent most of the time as a wolf... b-but I didn’t have any thicker clothes as a human. I just... made d-do.”

The Shade sighed. This irresponsibility was what got people killed.

“It was foolish of you to believe your wolf form would fully protect you,” he said sternly, “but that is water under the bridge. You need to focus now on healing. Not more fighting.”

Link made to speak but broke into a coughing fit instead, great wheezing things that wracked his chest and made him curl in on himself.

The Shade watched him, feeling a thread of worry lace itself through him as he listened to his successor cough. It had been a long time since he himself had a body that could get sick, but he knew a sound like that was not healthy.

His successor was strong, so strong despite everything the goddesses kept throwing at him, and seeing him laid low by something so normally inconsequential as a sickness scared the Shade more then he’d care to admit.

“I’m going to send you out of my realm,” he said, coming to a decision. “This place is likely aggravating your condition.”

Link’s face fell. “But you didn’t teach me—”

“That can wait until you are healed,” he cut off, and Link lowered his head. “I will wait for you. Focus on healing.”

Then he closed his eye and pushed at the edges of his realm, magic lightly fizzing through him. The Shade huffed, and in an instant brought his successor back to the waking world, and in turn, changed back into a golden wolf.

He let the magic wash through him, then opened his eye, looking around for the boy. He spotted him a moment later, a few feet away. Link lay on the ground as usual, but he didn’t stir, not even when the Shade padded over and nuzzled him.

A bolt of fear shot through him. Was removing him from his realm really the correct choice of action? What if he had worsened his condition merely by pulling him between dimensions?

“Hero, wake up,” he said, a thin thread of panic in his voice.

Link finally let out a wheezy cough and blinked his eyes open, looking miserable as he stared at him. The Shade couldn’t help his sigh of relief. He was alright, for now at least.

“You need somewhere safe to rest,” he rumbled. “Where would be suitable?”

Link shivered again, and the Shade cursed the fact that he couldn’t hold him in this form.

“K-Kakariko...” the boy rasped, another painful-sounding cough escaping him. “East... there’s a man there...”

The Shade nodded, taking a steady breath.

He hadn’t planned on helping the boy further then getting him out of his realm, but it seemed he wouldn’t be going anywhere by himself. It looked like he was going to have to get him to Kakariko somehow.

How was he supposed to do that?

A shadow split from his successor’s own, and a small imp creature with fiery orange hair appeared. She didn’t seem to notice him, and opened her mouth to speak to Link, but cut herself off when she saw him lying on the ground.

“Oh you stupid wolf I told you to wait—!” the imp rushed to his side, prodding him with a sharp sort of worry, only pulling back when he gave her a weak smile.

“‘S fine Midna, I’m okay,” he murmured, but contradicted his statement moments later by breaking into another coughing fit.

Midna crossed her arms and poked him again, and the Shade could see the thinly disguised worry on her face. She obviously cared for him despite her demeanor.

“You are not okay, and you weren’t okay yesterday either when you insisted on galavanting off and learning a new skill while you could barely walk!” she yelled, and Link didn’t reply, merely sighing tiredly.

“Sorry...” he croaked, and the anger immediately deflated out of Midna, the imp hovering worriedly by his shoulder.

The Shade decided to intervene then, padding forward and breathing out heavily to make his presence known. Who he knew to be the twilit princess startled and whipped around, staring at him with a wide look in her visible eye.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed, carefully moving herself to stand between him and the boy. Then realization landed on her face. “...oh it’s you. Skeleton-wolf-teacher-guy right?”

The Shade huffed and would have rolled his eyes if he could. “Not exactly, but close enough. The hero is in need of healing.”

Midna snorted, though it was layered with worry. “I hadn’t noticed,” she snipped, placing a hand on Link’s cheek. He leaned into the touch and let out a small sigh, and her frown deepened. “Can you heal him?”

The Shade shook his head. “Healing magic is far out of my ability. And sickness is difficult, much trickier then a physical wound.”

The imp sighed. “Well then thanks for nothing, nice to see you, we really should be going now.”

She raised the cursed shard the Master Sword had purged from his successor, and began to direct the magic towards Link, shadows coalescing around him. But the Shade barked and pushed it back into where it came from, and Midna teetered in the air.

“What’s the big idea?!” she snapped, turning on him. “Link needs to get a move on and here you are stopping me from tele—”

“Do not teleport him,” the Shade interrupted, “or turn him to a beast. Moving him between my realm and this already caused his condition to worsen; I do not believe his body would be able to handle that much while he’s this ill.”

Midna lowered the shard, and real worry cracked through the uncaring face she’d put on.

“Then how will we move him?” she asked, floating around in a pacing motion. “There’s a man in Kakariko who could help him, but I can’t carry him there right now and his stupid horse is all the way across Hyrule, and if teleporting is bad then dragging him around on your back wouldn’t be good for him either, and they won’t let a stalfos wolf guy in anywhere!” she snapped, and the Shade patiently waited for her to finish.

“Calm yourself,” he said, despite probably being more worried then she was. “I have a solution.”

This would take a fair bit of magic, but in order for him to not terrify the locals and for Link to be comfortable, the Shade needed arms, and not skeletal or ghostly ones. It had been a while since he’d done this, as it was difficult to maintain these days, but this was a bit of a special circumstance.

Taking a deep breath, the Shade pulled on his magic, going seamlessly from a wolf to a skeleton. But once he’d finished he kept pushing, forcing his form to change further. Bones were covered by less-ghostly flesh, and he could feel bangs brush over his forehead, the sensation one he’d realized he’d missed. He suddenly felt heavier somehow, despite still being a spirit.

When he opened his eye the twilit princess was staring at him in astonishment, and he gave her a small smirk.

“Do I look alive enough?” he questioned, going to his knees and putting a hand on Link’s forehead. He seemed hotter, and the Shade wasn’t even sure he was awake anymore, though he did make a small noise as his hand landed on his skin.

Midna blinked then nodded, albeit hesitantly.

“You... yeah you do, you look alive. And like... you look like Link,” she said, continuing to stare. “Who are you?”

The Shade gathered his descendant into his arms, ignoring the question for the moment as he stood. Link’s head lolled against his shoulder, and he could hear his breath rasping more thickly in his chest. It sounded even worse then it had before, and an icy hand of fear clutched around his heart.

“Someone who cares for his wellbeing,” he answered simply, and began to walk, keeping a tight grip on his descendant.

Midna snapped out of her reverie and quickly moved in front of him, an arm held out. “You’re going the wrong way, moron.”

The Shade blinked, confused. He’d visited Kakariko many times and thought for sure he knew where to go.

Then again... it had been several hundred years.

“...perhaps you should lead.” he admitted, and Midna sniffed.

“Perhaps I should.”

And they set off without another word.

#legend of zelda #twilight princess #loz tp #hero’s shade #midna #loz midna #link #legend of zelda fanfiction #sickfic #hurt/comfort #writing from the floor #I resisted the urge to edit it since there’s things I’d change now lol #depending on how today goes I might post more chapters but we’ll see #either way they’ll be up real soon

[asuyaka]

Gojo-Sensei has a husband?!

★ - drabble s part of m' first Satoru oneshot !!૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

☆ - Gojo Satoru x Househusband! Reader

♡ - f m' manga readers, how we feelin' 'bout nurse kenny ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ (she's m wife m callin' it rn!!)

Gojo [Name], the loved and unknown husband of The Strongest, Gojo Satoru.

Satoru was at work, most likely teaching the first years he loved to talk about. You were at home. Cleaning the house and making preparations for dinner when Satoru got home like the good husband you were.

You brought out a chicken broth cube from the cupboard, brushing the slight dust on your pretty light-blue apron that Satoru brought for you (then ended up fucking you in but that's on days when you're being a brat).

Your eyes scan the countertop, looking for the knife holder until they land on a sage-green bag dusted with flowers that you hand-painted. It was Satoru's lunch bag that he had forgotten.

You weren't a sorcerer, but you're able to see curses. Ironically, that's how you and Satoru met. A younger you (who just got unemployed) was walking home when something you couldn't describe stopped you in the alleyway you took sometimes as a shortcut.

It was tall, with eyes running along its skinny, dark-red arm. You were only twenty-two at the time and have only ever seen things like that in shitty horror-flicks. You never thought they were real.

As if you were in a cliché love story, a patch of white hair stands in front of you. He has sunglasses on despite the sun being nowhere in sight.

Due to you being (obviously) weaker than the average sorcerer, Satoru always discouraged you from going to Jujutsu High unless it was an emergency.

You huff diligently, grabbing the lunch bag and putting your shoes on. You'll make sure Satoru gets his lunch. What kind of husband would you be if you didn't?

Turns out, the people at Jujutsu High are either scary or odd. There's absolutely no in-between.

You've only been at Jujutsu High a handful of times. More times than not, it was to help Megumi.

You make your way to the main school building, holding the bag close to your chest for safekeeping. You didn't bust your ass making cute shapes out of food just for Satoru to go eat fast food instead.

Reaching the door of Satoru's class, you knock softly. It’s quiet, and you guess Satoru must be out training with his students. You turned around to try and find just where the training grounds could be on this huge campus. 

All of a sudden, the door opens and there he is. Your beautiful husband, wearing his black blindfold and Jujutsu uniform. “Baby? What are you doing here?”

Baby. That’s right, you’re his baby. No one else's. “You left your lunch, so I…” Your voice trails off as you gesture toward the bag in your hands. Satoru smiles, opening the door wider and pulling you in.

He keeps your hands intertwined, softly pushing you against a chair. “You’re so nice, baby. Going out of your way to bring me my lunch?” His hands are on your cheeks now, still smiling sweetly even with a saccharine voice.

Your face flushes and your hands are stiff. You don’t know where his students are, but you’re sure they’ll be back soon. This is risky— irresponsible even. 

“Satoru, ‘s risky..” You mutter under your breath, your hands cupping his. They’re warm like they always are when you two are close. You wish you could see what his eyes looked like, but they’re for his comfortability, you’re aware.

“You know I love you, right baby?” He leans closer, to the point you can smell the cologne on him. It’s the one you bought him a few weeks ago because it smelt like home. 

Satoru smells like home.

Shakily you nod. “Are you sure this is safe…? I don’t want you—”

“Shh… let me worry about all that.”

And with that, he closes the space between your lips. Satoru’s strong– dominant even; and no matter what he does, it always manages to show through his actions.

His tongue breaches past your lips, slotting perfectly against yours. You can hear the clicking of teeth as Satoru sits across your lap. It’s hot and you can feel your cock start to rise in your pants. 

“Wore this cute fuckin’ apron all f’me–” He plants a kiss on your cheek, your face flushed and breathing heaved.

“Satoru– sir, I need—”

“But baby…” He whines.

He fucking whines.

His face is pouty and it looks like he’s getting off your lap. Is he denying you? You haven’t done anythin’ wrong– did he give you instructions and you didn’t see them?

“I’m at work, and as much as I want to fuck you ‘till you can’t think– you can’t have my students seein’ you all messed up like that, can you?”

Satoru’s words bring your attention to your appearance. Your apron is messed up and so is your hair (most likely from Satoru gripping on it). Your lips are slightly swollen and your cock is half-hard.

Embarrassment brings you back to your senses, your arms covering what's between your thighs. If you stood up, your apron would cover it (hopefully), but your pants weren’t going to do you any justice. “‘M sorry ‘toru…”

Satoru cocks his head, sitting on his desk and crossing his legs. “It’s okay baby, I know you just can’t help yourself when I’m around.” His tone sounds mean like he’s mocking you. It’s condescending.

“But that’s what makes you my good boy, isn’t it?” His foot brings the chair closer to the point where your body is sandwiched between his legs. “Always so plaint f’me to fuck you, right?”

God. You can’t do this, and it isn’t helping your slowly growing problem go down.

Satoru must sense your nervousness (he knows you and your emotions like the back of your hand) because his expression turns soft again. “Just wait till I get home, okay baby? Relax for me.”

His fingers caress your cheek gently. It’s lulling you, pulling you in. Like he’s a siren, and you’re a plaint, very easy sailor.

You nod because you’re his good boy and you want it to stay that way.

Satoru smiles before pulling you in again for a kiss.

It’s gentler this time. There’s less kiss and more gentleness behind it. It feels like the kiss you shared at the altar. It makes you calmer, it makes you happy.

All of a sudden, the door slams open. Revealing three, very surprised teenagers.

“Gojo-sensei!?”

“Gojo-san?”

Satoru breaks the kiss, briefly smiling coyly at you before looking at his students. “Hello, my favorite first-years! I didn’t know lunch had already ended…”

A boy with pink hair and what seems to be two sets of eyes stares at you, then back at Satoru. “Lunch ended five minutes ago. Nobara stayed to eat more watermelon.”

The girl, who is shorter than all of them and who you assume is Nobara, kicks the boy in the knee. “Shut it Yuuji! Not my fault somebody decided to eat all my food while I was gone!”

“Gojo-san, I thought you’d be at home.”Megumi looks at you with a confused expression. Your heart tugs in fondness when he says ‘home’ like all three of you share it together (legally, you do but Megumi would never admit that).

“Why would Gojo-sensei be at home? He has to teach us, stupid.” Nobara rolls her eyes, before pointing at you accusingly. 

“All I wanna know is why this random man and Gojo-sensei were kissing!”

Satoru steps off the desk, grabs your arm, and pulls you up as well. He slings his arm around your shoulder, slightly leaning on you with a bright smile on his face. “Yuuji, Nobara, this is my husband, [Name]!”

“Husband?!” Yuuji and Nobara parrot, staring at each other before staring back at you. 

Nobara notices it first, the sleek ring on your finger. There’s an initial that she can’t make out but can only assume it’s the one that belongs to her teacher.

“Why would anyone date you?” She says suddenly, causing Yuuji to laugh.

Megumi rolls his eyes. “I thought that at first too. Gojo-san is too good for him.”

Satoru gasps. “Rude! You cried during our wedding, or do I have to ask [Name] to pull up the photos?”

“Wedding?! Why wasn’t I invited?” Nobara looks at Satoru like he committed a war crime. 

You don’t notice it, but somehow Yuuji is right in front of you. “Hello! I’m super glad Gojo-sensei has someone to love!! He’s always saying something about how he misses his ‘hubby’ randomly during class but we never thought he was being serious!”

You smile bashfully. You never thought Satoru would think of you during work, and for him to call you his “hubby”? 

Megumi stands beside him, handing you a book. “That’s because Gojo-sensei can’t shut up. They’re so lovey-dovey behind closed doors it makes me sick.”

Yuuji smiles. “That’s ‘cause they’re in love Megumi! Shouldn’t it be sweet that your dads love each other?”

Megumi frowns. “They aren’t my dads.”

“They totally are! You called Gojo-sensei dad one time during a mission, don’t think I’d ever forget that!” Nobara teases, holding Satoru’s ring in her other hand to presumably examine it.

Satoru claps his hands. “Okkayy! I appreciate that you two love my husband, not as much as me of course, but he’s got stuff to do! And we have to learn about the boring sorcerer families. Ew.”

His students groan but make their way to their seats. Satoru walks you to the door of the classroom, a small apologetic smile on his face. “I can’t walk you all the way to the door, Yaga would kill me, but I’ll see you at home?”

You nod with a soft smile on your face.

Satoru kisses you one last time. It’s more of a peck than anything, then leans into your ear. “Prep yourself for me before I get home okay? I have to reward you for being so good today.”

Blush rises up to your cheeks as you nod again. Pushing your hands down to your lap and turning away from his classroom door. The blush gets harder when you hear a loud “See you at home baby!” from the door.

Satoru watches you until he can’t anymore. A relieved sigh leaves his face as he closes the door and sits on his desk. Legs crossed and a ring adorning his finger, with your initials on them.

“Ask away, and I’ll show you any pictures you want.”

Yuuji and Nobara visibly light up and begin asking questions about where he met you, how long you’ve been together, and how long you’ve been married, plus the pictures of Megumi crying.

He shows them every photo and answers every question without hesitation.

After all, they’re all questions about you, his husband.

And he knows you’ll be home waiting for him with dinner, and dessert.

Your ass (that he loves to watch jiggle every time he fucks you), and ice cream.

He loves you, and he’s glad his students (and son) love you too.

#writin' shit. #jjk x male reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x male reader #satoru x male reader #jjk fluff #gojo #gojo satoru #male reader #x male reader #megumi fushiguro #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #gojo satoru x male reader

[1-ker0sene-1]

Would you consider writing for a reader with face blindness and the other ways they have to identify the boys with?

Like whenever they just freshly walk into a room the reader has to stare at them for a moment until they say something or until they spot the part of them they use to identify them, then they get all happy to see them.

I just think it’d be really cute and face blindness is never a disability I see anything for, it lacks a lot of representation but affects a lot of people. Living with face blindness is a serious struggle, because even if someone is family, they’ll always wear the face of a stranger

{I don't mind at all! I did have to do a little research, as I personally was pretty curious at how somebody with this disability sees faces. If I got anything wrong please let me know! ♥️ As always I hope you're having a lovely day anon♥️}

Price

It took John some getting used to. Not that he doesn't try to accommodate, he just often forgets you don't see the way he does. He's so caught up in loving on you, he doesn't really mind whether you see him. So when he's meeting up with you on dates, coming over to sit at the table where you're already waiting for him.

Seeing that pretty face of yours contort into confusion and even a bit of nervousness makes his brows raise.

"I um.. I'm waiting for someone-"

You mumble out to what you assume may be a stranger.

"Are you now Darlin'?"

John chuckles, reaching to hold your hand from across the table. Lifting it to kiss your knuckles, blue eyes softening at you.

"I'm right here."

Gaz

Kyle would get used to it pretty quickly, trying to find ways for you to recognize him easily. Fuck he'll wear a goddamn cat collar if you ask him to. He won't want you to feel bad for it either.

"You don't need to see me lovie.. you know me. You feel me. And you've done a hell of a job loving me."

He mumbles, if you still feel bad- he'll take your hands and place them on his face. Telling you to just close your eyes and feel.

Anytime he sees the confusion starting in your eyes he tilts his head and cheekily tells you.

"The best boyfriend-"

"Kyle!"

He grins when he gets to watch your reaction to him. It's kind of ethereal.. He gets to see in real time the love bloom across your features. It hits him to, just falls for you everytime he sees it.

Soap

Luckily, Johnny can never really sneak up on you, purely cause he can't keep his mouth shut around you. He didn't even know for the longest time before you outright told him of your disability. He always calls out first, with that Scottish accent and slang, he's pretty recognizable. Between his call outs of-

"Bonnie!"

"Aye there's my lass.."

"Where you ofta' hen?"

Followed by being swiftly scooped up or pulled into his arms. You will have to explain the condition, he's gonna ask questions. Not that he has any doubts, he's just incredibly curious at how you see the world. He'll listen to every word as you describe it, holding your hand to his cheek. Your thumb brushes over the scar on his chin.

Ghost

Personally I believe Simon would be the most effortlessly accommodating. As soon as he finds out you have this disability, he finds a pretty good solution in his eyes. His balaclava. Not many wear a skull balaclava in fucking daylight. So often he wears it until you at least see him, just so you don't panic and can somewhat recognize him better. Then he'll slip it off.

There's maybe a couple times he doesn't wear it. Most likely he just forgot, arriving home. His stealth can sometimes be a curse when you can't recognize him. Poor doll. Nearly jumped out of your skin seeing some big guy in the corner of the room.

"Fuck- it's me love- jus' me."

He does feel bad about it. But the way your eyes light at his voice never fails to make him smile. Tugging you into his arms. Mumbling an apology for scaring you as he kisses across your skin.

#cod x reader #disabled reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #simon ghost x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kero answers

[loko4koko]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Bokuto Koutarou x f!reader x Miya Atsumu ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

>fanart_credit (l->r): kurolah, __kiyomaru

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 1530

>contents: biting, brief sweat/armpit fetish, panty stealing/used panty fetish, bokuto and atsumu masturbate in the same room (gay tendencies), non-consensual photo/videography, sharing of said non-consensual images, voyeurism, masturbation (m! and f!receiving), mentions of squirting, non-explicit cunnilingus, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), double penetration in 2 holes, fingering, anal (f!receiving), creampies, mentions of bo and tsum sucking each other off 😋

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who are filthy little devils- not in measure of cleanliness (usually) but in depravity. they’re the textbook definition of perverted and you, their precious little roomie, are the main target of their lewd and lascivious behavior.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who are way too handsy- they poke and prod at you, they wrestle you down to the nearest surface and tickle you until you cry laughing. they aren’t above biting, either- quick to hold you down and bite the soft skin of your thighs, hips, and belly. not their faults you’re so much smaller and weaker than they are, not their faults you make it so easy. it doesn’t even stop in public; the last time you’d gone shopping atsumu took your bags in what you’d thought was a sweet gesture, only for bokuto to swoop in and pick you up, carrying you over his shoulder with his hand squeezing at your ass.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who practically live at the gym and not with you. and god, they’re so gross sometimes—they love to suffocate you between them as soon as they come home from a rigorous workout, your face pressed up into their sweaty, muscular pecs. it’s even worse when atsumu decides he wants to play a mean prank, wrapping himself around you with a wicked grin and sticking your face into his damp armpit, the smell of his sweat and deodorant co-mingling in your nostrils. you hate that you kind of like it, but you’d never tell them that.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who take up most of the space on the couch during movie nights. their thighs are huge—pounds of muscle that are definitely bigger than your head—so you usually end up on someone’s lap. they’ll fight over you and who you get to sit on; atsumu will get all mean and bokuto will get all pouty when they think you’ve been spending too much time with the other. you try to compromise by lying across both of their laps and they’re satisfied, smiling stupidly as atsumu pets your head and bokuto smooths his hands across your thigh.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who, despite fighting over you, love to get off with your panties. they work together like bandits, one—usually atsumu—keeping you in conversation with a story he pulled out of his ass while the other disappears to your room, grinning as he hits the x that marks the spot: your dirty laundry. he knows he’s struck gold when what he wants is right on top of the pile. it’s a thong, a real cute one with little cherries all over it- but that’s not important. what is important is that it’s the one you’d just worn to the gym.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who hide out in atsumu’s room late after you’ve gone to sleep. they’ll sit across from each other, atsumu on his bed and bokuto on the chair, tossing the soiled pair of panties back and forth as they jerk off together. they pant and hiss, wet slaps of their fists hitting their heavy balls and beefy thighs. they’re unabashed- eyes on each other as they lift the thong to their faces in tandem, cursing as they thumb at the drooling slits of their cocks. they both cum so hard that night- rippling abs painted with milky white lines as their chests heave; boyish, lustful and adrenaline-laced grins on their faces.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who trade upskirts and pics of your ass that they take throughout each day. they know it’s wrong and that they shouldn’t, but they can’t help it! seeing a photo of your perky little ass peeking out from under your big t-shirt (bokuto notices it’s actually his shirt; makes him tingle with possessiveness) as you nap on your bed just gets them so hard, they have to keep taking more for their collection. it’s not like they let anyone else see- it’s just that if atsumu walks past your room while your bent over trying to get something that rolled under your bed, he’s gonna quietly pull his phone out and snap a few photos. you’ve given him the perfect view of your panty-clad pussy and ass, who would he be to not take advantage of it? and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t share those delicious images with his best friend-slash-roommate?

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who take you to the gym with them so they can “teach” you how to use the equipment. they show you how to deadlift and how to work different muscles and how to engage your core- all too convenient excuses to press themselves up on you, broad and solid and hard against your back, and to get their hands all over you in your tight little workout outfit. and when they offer to help you stretch? well, they’re just being good friends, of course! bokuto’s got you on your back with your leg stretched so far up that your knee is touching your shoulder and he’s shushing your little whines of exertion, telling you he needs to “stretch ya nice ‘n deep, juuust like that.” it has you a little flustered and atsumu a lot jealous, eyes narrowed at the two of you and the compromising position his counterpart has you in. despite that feeling, he can’t deny the fact that his cock is stiffening up in his loose sweatpants.

roommate!atsumu, who has his ear against the wall when he hears what sounds like moaning coming from your room one late night when he can’t sleep. he’s right, it is moaning- it’s you moaning. he feels his cock stiffening up in his boxers, reaching down to palm and squeeze at himself as he imagines how you touch your own body. are you using your fingers, or a dildo? are you lying on your back, or humping into a pillow? he groans at the thought of you doing any of those things. on the other side of the hall in roommate!bokuto’s room, said man is in a similar situation. he’s got his lip between his teeth as he fucks into a fleshlight, eyes closed as he pretends it’s your hot little pussy that his cock is twitching inside of instead.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who would rather be dead than let some lowlife loser get into your pants. you don’t even bother trying to hookup with people anymore, deeming it a useless endeavor after the first several times that your roommates scared away the people you’d brought over. but they couldn’t care less. you’re theirs, whether you know it or not. you don’t need dick from some tinder guy who probably won’t even eat your pussy or make you cum until you’re sobbing. you need bokuto and atsumu. they can guarantee that they’ll have you in tears, screaming their names as you drench them and yourselves in yet another spray of squirt from your battered cunt.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who just cant wait any longer. they box you in after a movie, your back pressed into the wall as they murmur to you how bad they want you and how good they’ll treat you. it’s atsumu that can’t keep his hands to himself, pulling you against the hard plane of his chest as he holds your hips and does his best to convince you. he keeps you in place when bokuto kneels to yank your shorts down your thighs, pulling one of your legs out and throwing it over his shoulder. he wastes no time, tongue digging in like he’d just uncovered a 5-course meal. atsumu keeps you steady as you cry out for them, muttering “see? what’d we tell ya, baby? never gonna need those assholes again- not when ya got us” into your ear.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who bend and contort you into so many positions as they claim you. the strength and stamina of the two is overwhelming, staving off their own orgasms while they make you cum upwards of 4 times. they stretch your pussy so wide, and when they think they’ve fucked their shapes into you enough for now, they do the same to your asshole. it’s agonizing- how gentle they are, that is. they’re so slow and careful as they prep you, taking turns using their fingers to loosen the tight ring of muscle and when you’re finally ready, your cute little hole gaped and winking at them, they take you- one at a time, over and over.

roommates!bokuto and atsumu, who don’t fight over you anymore. they’re good at sharing you- they switch off on who gets to fuck your pussy and who gets to fuck your ass. and there’s nothing to be jealous about either, ‘cause whoever gets to fuck your pussy gets your cum sucked off of their cock by the other, so it’s a win-win for both of them. instead they focus their boundless energy into making you feel good every day—after all, if they keep your pussy wet and sore and stuffed full of cum then you won’t be looking for anyone else, right?

>authors_note: hey you attract what you fear right?

>ahhhh i’m so scared of bokuto and atsumu railing me while they kiss each other ahhhhh

>thank you for reading ♡︎

>masterlist.exe

>send a request here!

© loko4koko 2024

#bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #atsumu miya x reader #bokuatsu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #bokuto smut #atsumu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #haikyuu

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hi I’d like to request Abraham with a breeding kink. They’ve already got twin boys and another boy but Abraham wants a girl like her mother, so he puts reader in a mating press and fucks her stupid till his cums taken root

Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Semi-arranged marriage. Ideals that might seem sexist but are quite typical for Romani communities, especially in a 1950s setting. Mention of loss of virginity. Breeding kink. Smut. Word count: ~2k

Author's note: I did a lot of research into Romani culture to ensure I got this right, but if there's anything that is incorrect or handled insensitively, please let me know. Abraham doesn't have a surname, a he's such a minor character, for the purpose of this fic I've given him one - it's Lee - quite a common Romani surname in the UK. I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She has spent her whole life dreaming of her wedding day, her thoughts filled with what her husband will be like and how many children they’ll have. 

She idolises her mother. Growing up, she helps her to care for her siblings and to keep a clean home. She learns how to cook, how to sew, all of the skills that will shape her into the perfect Romani wife. 

She hopes for a union that will strengthen her and her future husband’s familial ties and contribute towards their small community of travellers. 

It’s with excitement when she turns eighteen that she learns that a man within their community wishes to marry her, but she is nervous when she finally gets to meet him. 

Abraham; she knows of him, though they have never properly spoken. She finds him intimidating. He’s tall, has sharply chiseled features, slicked back hair and piercing blue eyes, tattoos litter his forearms. He is undeniably handsome, but there’s something about his smirk that suggests an element of danger. She’s uncertain of whether it frightens or excites her, the feeling that flutters in her lower belly when she looks at him is unfamiliar to her.

Her fate is sealed when Abraham gifts one of his prized thoroughbreds to her parents as his bride price. It’s a massive horse, with a shiny chestnut coat that he has clearly cared well for. He could sell it into racing and earn thousands, so the fact that he is prepared to part ways with it in exchange for her hand in marriage is more than enough to convince her mother and father. She cannot deny the way her heart flutters at the gesture either, it’s exciting to know that a man of his reputation is so eager to be wed to her.

Their wedding day feels like a dream come true, with both their families coming together to celebrate the happy couple. Yet despite the jubilant atmosphere and effort everyone has gone to to ensure the day is perfect, nerves swirl like butterflies within her. Their courtship has never allowed them any real time alone together and she is anxious for what will happen on their wedding night when it’s finally just the two of them.

As they join hands, Abraham’s blue eyes gazing deeply into hers with a tenderness she didn’t know he was capable of, her stomach does flips, but this time anxiety is not the cause.

When his lips press against hers for their first kiss, she is taken aback by their remarkable softness. He treats her with such reverence and care, as though he is handling something precious and fragile.

She trembles like a leaf as his steady hands help her out of her wedding dress to lay her down upon their marital bed. His calloused palms stroke across her skin, soothing her and she is once more surprised at his gentleness, a stark juxtaposition to his rugged appearance.

He takes his time with her, his kisses and caresses are unhurried, causing her to melt with pleasure, so that when he does push inside of her for the first time she feels only the faintest of stings.

As soon as she relaxes, her breathing growing heavier, her hips chasing the movement of his, it’s as though a switch is flipped inside of him.

He slings one of her legs over his shoulder, his thrusts becoming harder and faster, his forehead pressed against hers against as his eyes stare into hers.

“Been fuckin’ obsessed wi’ ya since I first laid eyes on ya,” he rasps, “Knew I had to have ya. You’re gonna look so pretty when I knock you up.”

She gasps at his words, tightening involuntarily around him, and it’s not long before he’s spilling inside of her as her own climax sends her sensitive inner walls into spasms.

Abraham’s appetite for her is insatiable and he has her on every available surface of their shared caravan, at every opportunity. She grows to love him. He has a mean streak, though it is never directed towards her; he treats her with utter adoration and is fiercely protective of her. It is only when they are intimate that his temperament towards her darkens, becoming possessive, spilling forth confessions of his desires for her to fall pregnant. She doesn't mind this, however; on the contrary, it excites her. When they aren’t together, he works hard with the horses, while she takes care of their home, and their married life is a happy one.

When she learns she’s expecting, he’s ecstatic, his large hand cradling her abdomen as he smiles down at her. She gives birth to healthy twin boys, Noah and Elijah, and six months later she discovers she’s pregnant again.

She is overjoyed when her third baby boy, Logan, is placed into her arms, though there is a small part of her that feels disappointment that he’s not a girl.

Over the next five years, their home is filled with love and laughter as the boys grow and Abraham dotes on all of them. The male energy within their home can feel stifling at times for her, and when their sons excitedly accompany Abraham to the stables each day, she feels lonely, missing the connection she had with her mother.

She longs for a daughter, someone she can teach to cook and look after a home, much like her mother did for her. But with three noisy boys keeping them occupied, there is rarely time for them to try again.

Wistfully, she thinks back on the days of when Abraham thrust into her on every surface, a memory that now seems unrealistic when they’re battling against endless shouts of “I’m hungry!” and “he’s hitting me!”

The sun has barely begun to rise as she slips out of bed, unable to sleep. Her hands cup around the steaming mug of tea as she stares out of the caravan window at the horizon, a sense of longing settling into her as she thinks about how soon her husband and the boys would be awake, leaving her alone again for the day.

She is startled out of her thoughts when she feels Abraham’s sturdy arms wrap around her waist, his chest against her back as he leans over her shoulder. The cleft of his nose presses into her hair, inhaling deeply before dragging lightly across her cheekbone.

“You’re up early, Mrs. Lee,” he whispers.

She hums in acknowledgement, leaning back against him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“You alright, love?” Concern tinges his voice, his hand raising to cup her jaw, tilting her face to look at him.

“It’s stupid, don’t worry,” she says, moving away to place her mug in the washing up bowl on the kitchenette side.

“Oi,” he chides, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to him. “Less of that. Tell me.”

She sighs, pressing her palms flat against the solid expanse of his chest, before sliding them upwards to rest on his shoulders. “I just…I get lonely with you and the boys gone all day. I’ve just always wanted–”

“A girl?” Abraham cuts her off with a smirk.

“Yeah…” She says, lowering her gaze, feeling her skin heat up with embarrassment.

“What’s to stop us trying?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Fat chance of that when we’ve got a caravan full of screaming kids already.”

He nods his head, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Well, how about we send the boys to Cora’s for a bit tonight? Once I’m finished with the horses today, it’ll be just you and me for the evening.”

Her eyes light up and she grins excitedly, the thought of some alone time with her husband for the first time in five years making her feel giddy. “Oh, I’d love that!”

When Abraham and the boys are ready to leave for the stables later that morning, he leans in to whisper to her as he kisses her cheek. “Hope you’re ready for all the things I’m gonna do to you later.”

A shiver of excitement shoots up her spine and she spends the rest of the day filled with nervous energy, unable to concentrate properly on anything.

In spite of her restless excitement, she ensures the caravan is spotless and bakes Abraham his favourite steak and kidney pie for dinner.

When he steps through the door later that evening, he’s unaccompanied by their sons, and is holding a bunch of wildflowers, which she recognises from the fields that surround his walk to and from the stables. She smiles at the thought that he’d gone to the effort to pick them for her, taking them from him with a peck on the lips as thanks.

“Made your favourite for dinner,” she tells him, as he backs her up towards the bedroom with a predatory glint in his eye.

“Smells good,” he tells her, hands moving to encircle her waist, “but maybe we can start with pudding?”

He dips his head, capturing her lips with his own and kisses her slowly, yet the hand that moves to cradle the back of her head serves as a quiet reminder that he’s in control.

“Clothes off, Mrs. Lee”, he instructs quietly, pushing her gently back on to the bed.

Her breathing comes in quick, shallow pants of eagerness, as she works to unbutton her blouse with shaky fingers. 

Abraham watches her intently, his hands slowly unbuckling his belt as she bares herself to him. He makes quick work of the rest of his clothes once she’s completely undressed, and covers her body with his own, all lithe, lean muscle and tattoos.

“You gonna let me taste you?” He murmurs against the shell of her ear.

She shivers, her voice coming out in a whine. “Please, I’ve waited for you all day, I don’t need that, just want you.”

“So desperate,” he chuckles, dipping a hand between her legs.

She gasps as he swipes his fingers through her folds, collecting the arousal that’s gathered there.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re soaked.”

She lets out a quiet mewl in response, her body arching against his.

He smirks, gripping the base of his cock and sliding the head through her wetness, causing her to emit a needy sigh.

“Abe, please…”

He answers by sheathing himself fully inside of her in one fluid thrust, causing her to cry out.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands quietly, “wanna make sure I’m nice and deep.”

She does as she’s told, tipping her head back at the sensation of how far inside the change in angle pulls him.

Abraham grunts, pulling his hips back before slamming them forward once more. The pace he sets is relentless, fucking her into the mattress with urgency.

“Gonna fill you up,” he murmurs to her, “you look so fuckin’ good when you’re pregnant, love, can’t wait to see it again.”

She moans, walls fluttering around him at his filthy words, every drag of him inside of her pushes and pulls against a spot that has her toes curling and her voice raising an octave.

His brow furrows with exertion, full lips parted as he pants for breath, his grip on her thighs near bruising. He releases one of them, pressing his palm flat against her lower belly.

“Wanna make sure it goes all the way in here, love” he grits out, pace never faltering.

The combination of what he’s telling her and the way he uses her so forcefully nudges her closer to the edge and she tenses, feeling her peak begin to build inside of her.

Abraham’s gaze darkens as he senses this. “Nearly there, aren’t ya? Come on, give it to me.”

He slides the hand on her belly downwards, stopping when he reaches her pearl and circles pressured strokes against it with his thumb.

The added stimulus causes the already near unbearable pressure to build, until finally it reaches its boiling point, and she falls apart as waves of white hot pleasure roll through her body.

Abraham stills with a grunt, pushing himself as deep as he can possibly go, pulsating as he spills inside of her.

He collapses against her, breathless and sweaty, and she wraps her arms around him, breathing in the comforting scent of him.

“When’s Cora dropping the boys back off?” She asks quietly, after a few moments of satisfied silence.

“Not until tomorrow morning,” he says with a grin, “we’ve got all night.”

Nine months later, when little Esme is placed into her arms, she’s glad that they did.

#abraham #ewan mitchell #abraham x reader #abraham smut #abraham x you #abraham x y/n #abraham grantchester #abraham imagine #abraham fan fiction #abraham fanfiction #abraham fanfic #abraham fan fic #grantchester smut #grantchester fan fiction #grantchester fanfiction #grantchester fanfic #grantchester fan fic #grantchester

[taylorswiftpropaganda]

I keep coming back to what @likeadevils said about how Taylor kept coming back to her fear of getting older in writing Red but kept cutting it from the album.

The Taylor who wrote Red was coming off back to back relationships with older men where her age was a reason they pursued her AND a reason they ended things. She was also trying to continue a career where her accolades were made to seem more significant because they often came attached to a “youngest ever” label.

This era saw Taylor publicly embrace a more mature persona - abandoning the fairytales and whimsy that were once staples of her brand. And yet privately she wrote about how terrifying getting older was. She was desperate to grow up and stay young at the same time because of the way the men in her life, and the industry feel about age.

Imagine the mindfuck of knowing your naivety and youth are hot commodities to older men but your perceived childishness is the reason they’ll abandon you. Growing up would be a way to simultaneously protect yourself from and prove yourself to these men.

Imagine seeing how hard the women in the industry work to cling to the appearance of youth. How women she grew up admiring fell off the charts as soon as either their 20s or their beauty left them. Conversely starting her career as a teenager and writing about high school and first loves was where her detractors drew from for critique. She wasn’t a real musician to them, she was a child star.

Ultimately the desire to grow up, to be perceived as a woman and a serious music heavyweight won out. Red was her transition out of girlhood made clear and at the time it seemed like she bridged this gap effortlessly, but in the vault and on the cutting room floor she left behind traces of the battle it took to get there and the fear of what she was leaving behind.

#taylor swift #red #likeadevils

[bimboothefool]

Reader was taken kidnapped by Wally and taken to his world. But what Wally didn't expect is that all the other characters would start to remember memories with the reader as a child and discover the truth of their colorful world.

( Now it's up to you to decide what will happen! Will they help the reader get back to the real world or will they become so attached to the reader that it would help Wally keep them there with them FOREVER. )

ℌ𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔶 ℑ’𝔪 ℌ𝔬𝔪𝔢

𝔗𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔣 ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰: Kidnapping, Yandere Behavior (You know the drill keep this shit in fiction.), Stockholm Syndrome, Amnesia, Possessive Behavior, Wally manipulating the others, and Gaslighting

𝔄𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯’𝔰 𝔏𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯: Thank you so much for this request and I apologize for taking so long so much came up, but regardless thanks for the request let’s jump right in!! Keep in mind it could either be read as platonic or romantic regardless spoiler alert they don’t see you grow up.

- Wally was surprised to see you after all these years. Same thing with the rest of the crew, your eyes are definitely different instead of that whimsy you’ve once held. You’re rather cautious, it still wows them how different you are now.

- Wally did believe for the time being that he’s the only one who truly remembers you and for a while that’s true. But once you’re in their world things started to change.

- Eddie and Frank are the first few to notice that you looked oddly familiar. When he asked specific questions about your childhood it started to click for him.

- Sally and Julie are shocked that you remembered the lines of a play or the rules of a game. They start to ask themselves the same questions why do you look so familiar yet different.

- Howdy, Poppy and Barnaby are a bit unnerved when you remember stuff like the residents orders or certain joke punchlines. Even certain recipe ingredients. How come you know those things.

- They all meet together to discuss the possibility of how they felt so familiar with you, but this is seemingly their first time meeting you. They all come to the conclusion that they’ve met you before. [Excluding Wally since he fully remembers you.]

- For a while they’re all happy to have you back, but you’re getting homesick. You constantly ask questions on how to get back to your world. But they’re not even sure if it’s possible.

- But only Wally knows a way in and out of their world and keeps it out of your grasp. He even starts manipulating the others.

- “We have them back, why let them go now? Don’t you all miss having our best friend?” He asked the others as they’re all conflicted. Sure they miss you and love you, but was keeping you here really right?

- This could go one of two ways. The first being they do buy into Wally’s twisted line of thinking, why go back to such a troubled and dangerous world? You can stay here and everyday is nothing, but joy and laughter.

- They’ll start gaslighting you into buying into this logic as well, which really freaks you out and you start lashing out. They see this as you throwing a tantrum.

- Another way this can go down, they aren’t sure and start asking you why you want to go home. And you explain that yeah your world isn’t perfect, but it’s still your home.

- Soon they all start talking about how to get you back home, out of Wally’s watchful eyes. You all start to unraveling and untying the mysteries of their world and Wally’s existence.

- Either way it’s ultimately up to you to really choose your own path on how things will play out.

Thanks for reading! If you enjoy my stuff please feel free to check out my other stories from other fandoms, along with reblogging and commenting on it! If you like my art and wanna commission me for some art, head over to my kofi!

#the clown speaks #my writing #welcome home x reader #welcome home arg #welcome home x y/n #welcome home x you #wally darling x reader #eddie dear x reader #frank frankly x reader #julie joyful x reader #sally starlet x reader #barnaby b beagle x reader #howdy pillar x reader #poppy partridge x reader

[blessedwithabadomen]

in love with the mess - day three

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : fluff, flirting, the slightest hint of something more smutty

length : 3.9k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @somebodyels3

a/n : hope you'll have fun with this one!! I promise, it'll get into real slutty territory soon enough hehe 💗

•••

day three

With no personal social media to his name anymore (at least none I knew about just yet), Noah had seemingly decided to use my number as an unspoken permission to spam me with photos of his day. It started with a picture of his very sleepy yet very attractive face and a caption cursing out the early bus call. I could only agree, snapping a picture of my own head still half hidden under the covers and sending it back.

Load-in was a tedious task that I only peripherally participated in. Noah seemed to think similarly as a picture of the outside of their bus, cluttered with baggage, followed as well as a “Think they'll notice if I slip into my bunk instead of helping?”. I told him if he did slip away, I'd do the same. Unfortunately it wouldn’t involve the same bus.

“No sleep allowed around here” was next along with a picture of the rest of his band engrossed in a PlayStation game and quite obviously shouting at both the screen and each other. This time I went straight to texting him.

Aubrey No sleep last night either? Jet lag kicking your arse? Noah Jet lag and you Aubrey Excuse me How am I to blame here Noah You really kiss me and then have the audacity to ask that

My cheeks were burning. Quickly looking around the lounge area on the bus, I was glad to see that it was mostly deserted, only the tour photographer was sat across from me, but he seemed busy enough editing that he didn't pay me any attention. My eyes were glued to my phone again the second another message came in.

Noah Still thinking about your mouth

It wasn't just a blush now, it was a familiar tingle between my legs on top of it. Because I'd been thinking about it too. Thinking and remembering and imagining. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his hands on me, his strong grip, the way I wanted to get his fingers everywhere on my body, his mouth, his tongue, all of it.

Aubrey And that kept you up so much you didn't get enough sleep? Interesting Anything else you did instead then Noah You don't know how tempted I was, darling But I didn't need to subject Nick to that

Right. I forgot not everyone was privileged enough to have Oli Sykes fight to get them their own room without having to share. And having been put up with a roommate several times on tours the last couple of years… It wasn't fun for anyone if someone decided to get off while the other was in the room.

Aubrey Well, you could go be alone in your bunk right now There's another two hours until Birmingham, pretty boy I'm sure your mind will occupy you just fine Maybe let you imagine my mouth a couple or other places

I didn't expect what came next. In fact, his next message took so long I wondered, once again, if I'd taken it a little too far. But once again, I was proven wrong.

The picture was dark, so much that I turned up the light on my phone to even get a hint of what I was looking up and when I saw, I almost threw it across the room. Instead though, I opted for putting it in my lap, face down, making sure that I was still alone with the photographer who was still distracted and no one else could possibly see what I was looking at.

Then I turned it back around and studied what was in front of me. It was unmistakable, really. The inside of a bunk, dark, with the curtain shut. A pair of legs in dark sweatpants, bland and impersonal, without any way to trace it back to Noah. And a bulge in the middle of it, so big and obvious and on show, it was almost obscene.

I didn't know how long I stared at his clothed dick, salivating and getting wetter, but I didn't move eyes away until I was certain I was going to go crazy if I spent one more moment trying to imagine what he would look like underneath the fabric without taking a breath.

Aubrey And you have the audacity to suggest I'm the bad one here

•••

Safe to say, I was in a mood. Noah ceased texting back and I was almost glad because I was sure I'd actually end up brain-dead if he continued like that while I was a whole bus away and without any chance to touch him. The thoughts whirling in my head, though, didn't quiet down at all. Not when we arrived at the hotel and I desperately (and unsuccessfully) tried to get at least a peek at Noah, not when we checked into our rooms, not when Oli texted me that he'd be waiting downstairs and calling us an uber for the shopping trip. I made quick work of changing my underwear, terrified of possibly sporting a wet spot when I was supposed to be trying on clothes, and jumped into the car that seemed to arrive at the same time as I did.

“No fake moustache?” I questioned as I slid into the backseat next to Oli. “I'm devastated.”

“Listen, I tried a filter and, well, ya know,” Oli explained, quickly pulling up the picture on his phone and angling it toward me. I choked down a laugh. He looked absolutely ridiculous, a black comic-esque moustache on his upper lip. It didn't help that the filter had somehow also given him a monocle and an old-fashioned top hat.

“Yeah, that definitely would have drawn more attention,” I giggled. “Pulling the hood of your jacket a bit into your face will probably work better.”

He immediately tried, pulling it down so far he could barely see, and I gave him an approving nod.

“Keep your tattoos covered and you'll be fine.”

It wasn't usually much of a problem, really, going out with Oli. Even if there was one or two people recognising him, everyone usually stayed respectful, got their photo or a quick chat, and moved on. But now Bring Me were playing arena shows and the cities were basically buzzing with fans. We didn't need to cause any sort of problem.

“So why the shopping trip then, eh? Far as I can see you got a whole suitcase full of clothes.”

I hesitated for a moment. Then I figured there was simply no use in not being honest with him. After all, looking down at myself revealed nothing but a plain shirt under a jacket and a dark pair of jeans that could be fitting much better.

“Got sick of looking like this,” I explained, motioning to my outfit. Oli had known me for years - surely he had noticed the change too, the lack of styling, the lack of care in my appearance. I was pretty sure I was wearing hot pants that barely covered my bum and fishnets that had more holes than anticipated by the manufacturer when we first met on one of his tours.

“Why, I think your face ain't half bad,” he deadpanned. I had no witty comeback to this blatant disrespect and defaulted to my standard response of delivering a good smack, but this time I was either too slow or had given Oli too much insight into the way I dealt with things because his hand shot up and caught my wrist the second I lifted it. He gave me a look and then gently put my hand back into my own lap. But he didn't let go of my wrist.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of being chosen as your shopping partner for this adventure?” The posh accent he put on almost tempted me to try hitting him again, but his fingers were still tightly wrapped around my skin and I wasn't ready to lose his touch just yet.

“Well, it did seem like a good choice, you know. With the stage fits and your own clothing line and all that.”

Oli hummed in contemplation. “Or maybe you enjoy the idea of me dressing you up a little. Like my personal doll. Wouldn't you like that?”

The way my body heated up and my fingers were getting slightly sweaty told him enough. The smirk that appeared on his face was confirmation. 

“Thought so, doll.”

The uber driver announcing the arrival at our destination saved me from struggling to form a reply.

•••

Shopping with Oli was as chaotic as it was confusing. He constantly pulled pieces from the shelves and rails, holding them out to me or pressing them against my body, pretending to judge what they would look like if I wore them, and I was fighting to see the difference between the ones he thought would actually suit me and those he picked for comic relief. It was a fine line that he was treading expertly.

Still, I ended up with an arm full of clothes. If Oli hadn't sweet talked the employee - which, mind, worked quite well in an alternative store as soon as they recognised who they were dealing with - I definitely wouldn't have been allowed to drag all of them into the changing room with me. Being friends with a bit of a rockstar definitely had its perks, even if they were rather boring sometimes.

I was sorting out the pieces, trying to figure out what to start with and what I needed to take off concerning my own clothes, when a message came in.

Noah I'm at interview 528 of 1244 of the day and I am painfully bored Please tell me you're off doing something more interesting

I shot a quick picture of the mountain of clothes I'd heaved onto the little stool and sent it to him as an answer.

Noah How desperate do I sound if I ask for update pictures on what you're trying Aubrey Just the right amount

Putting on a pair of tight jeans and a slightly cropped shirt, nothing too risky, not yet, I took and sent him another picture before putting the phone away to throw the curtain back and present the result to Oli. Unfortunately, the screen decided to light up with Noah's answer right within Oli's field of views. And he had no sense of privacy.

“Are you texting Noah? Wait, are you sending Noah pictures? We need a fucking group chat.”

Who was to deny Oli Sykes. So, just like that, my shopping trip turned into a fashion show and a photo shoot all at once. It started out with the best intentions, really, Oli continuously throwing new stuff at me, tweaking the outfits, talking about accessories to accompany the looks. But as the pile of “definitely buy"-clothes grew, so did his taste for mischief.

It started with a shirt, black velvet, quite modest really, if it hadn't been for the heart-shaped cut-out on my chest. The pointy end displayed the beginning of my cleavage, not too much, but enough to be a promise. As soon as I let Oli see, a cat-like smile graced his face, obviously happy with this choice. Without any words, he immediately got out his phone again and took a picture, angling it just the way so that my tits looked a little more inviting than they did anyway. 

“Noah's gonna love this,” he cackled to himself. He wasn't wrong - what followed in the group chat was nothing more than a line of hieroglyphs (in the form of emojis) that vaguely suggests he was enjoying the picture very much. The top wandered to the clothes I was definitely going to purchase. No question about it.

The next shorts-and-top combo that Oli prepared for me featured a massive amount of skin on show, I realised, as I turned the top over in my hands only to see its back consisted of not much more than a handful of thick, flat strings that would be spanning over my skin, almost suggesting a little bit of bondage. Oli immediately ordered me to turn around when I stepped out of the changing room, arranging them just perfectly. His fingers kept tracing over my tattoo, once again, and it was just as exhilarating as it had been the first time. I barely noticed him taking another picture. This time I also got a message back privately, outside of the newly-founded group chat.

Noah That the tattoo you've mentioned? Aubrey One of them

I was dying to show him the others. Anything that would cause me to be in fewer clothes around him.

Noah Stunning

I wasn't sure if he was reacting to the tattoo or the news that I had more to show him.

“Here, try this,” Oli's voice came through, followed by his tattooed hand pushing a skirt into my direction without disturbing the curtain too much. I quickly grabbed it and changed once again. It was only when it was actually sitting on my hips that I realised how awfully short it was. Only, it wasn't all that awful. The red tartan pattern was bright enough that it wouldn’t be missed even in dim light. The hem ended just underneath my arse - as long as I was standing upright. It would only take the slightest movement to enter dangerous territory.

Oli’s eyes immediately trailed over my legs as I pulled the curtain back. It was safe to say, he was very pleased with his choice. I did a little twirl for him, aware of the way the fabric was lifting up, exposing the slightest bit of my lace panties.

Oli groaned, deeply. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work. Not with all the bending down you have to do at your job, right?”

I could see the twinkle in his eyes - but I was sure he could also see the one in mine.

“Oh, no,” I sighed, rather overdramatically. “I guess that might be a problem. Like this?”

Turning around, I quickly checked through the mirror that he was still watching me, and then bend down, pushing my butt in his direction as I felt the fabric lift up so high, it was almost around my hips exclusively. The next few things happened insanely fast - Oli taking a step forward, the curtain being shut again, his hands on my hips, his body pressing into mine. I almost stumbled, quickly placing my hands on the little stool that was still covered in a few pieces of clothing, holding on for dear life as he took the liberty to roughly push his crotch against my ass.

“You’re playing a dangerous fucking game, doll,” he said, his voice lower than I’d ever heard it. I relished in the way the pet name had me squirming. One of his hands moved to my upper back, holding me down, making sure that I knew who was in charge. The other gripped my side so tightly, it gave me an insight to how much self-control he was currently exhibiting in not doing more. “What happened to you, hm? Used to be such a good girl. So well behaved around me. Now you’re just begging for trouble.”

“You did,” I moaned. “You happened.”

It was true. I’d never been prude or shy, really, but we had never been like this. I had certainly never had him push his dick against my arse through a few layers of clothes. I had been crushing on him, yes, but I hadn’t made any moves. Now, everything had changed. The moment I’d seen him again, seen his smile, his physique, the way he behaved around me, something had changed in my brain, fundamentally. It had only gotten worse with every minute I was around him. I wanted and needed him in ways that hadn’t been present before. An overwhelming desire that was begging me to do more, be more assertive, let him know, get satisfied. And he wasn’t refusing me.

“Is that what it is?” Oli teased, the hand that was on my upper back moving again until his fingers reached my hair, grabbing some of it into his fist like a makeshift ponytail and pulling my head up so I’d look at him through the mirror. He seemed terribly pleased at the gasp that left my mouth. “Am I turning you into this? And you love it?”

“Yes,” I replied immediately.

He let go of my hair again and my head almost slumped forward. I watched as he fumbled with the pocket of his trousers, pulling you his phone. He leaned backward slightly, without quite letting go of me, pushing the fabric even higher so everything was on show, his cock still lightly pressed against my almost-bare butt, and snapped a quick picture.

“Can’t leave Noah out of this now, can we?”

Then he was off me and I almost cried out at the loss of his touch. I slowly raised my upper body, just in time for him to open the curtain again and stepping outside.

“Get dressed. We’re buying it all.”

•••

Under immense protest from myself,  Oli did, indeed, buy me basically everything under the guise of “work expenses”. I knew there was no use arguing after he’d already handed over his credit card, the stubborn son of a bitch would definitely not allow me to pay him back in any way, so I wordlessly took the bags from the cashier and followed him to where he called us another uber back to the hotel.

It was dark by the time we arrived, January taking no prisoners as the sun went down. All I wanted was to get up to my room, cuddle up in the massive double bed I’d been given, maybe put on a movie, and enjoy the fact that tomorrow wasn’t an early start since we were already in Birmingham for the show. The hotel lobby was buzzing with people getting ready to go out, but one person seemed a little out of place. Oli and I noticed him immediately.

Noah was sat on an armchair in the farthest corner from the door looking, well, a little rough to be honest. We didn’t even discuss it as we walked over to him, me sitting down on the chair opposite, Oli hovering between us, dumping the shopping bags on the floor.

“Sitting here all alone, handsome?” I greeted him. He gave me a smile, but it was obvious that he was feeling pretty beat. Apparently, a day full of interviews and photos and whatever else had made its way into his calender didn’t work well with the last remaining bits of jet lag lingering in his system.

“I was gonna have dinner with the rest of the guys here at the hotel but then they wanted to go out and I realised I’m just much too exhausted for that,” he explained.

Oli moved behind him, placing his hands on Noah’s shoulders and starting to massage them. Noah briefly tensed up at the physical contact, before relaxing and leaning into it with a satisfied groan.

“So you got stuck in the lobby?”

“Kinda,” he said, eyes closed, already drifting into another dimension from Oli’s touch. I couldn’t blame him at all.

“I hope you weren’t sitting here when I sent you those pictures of Aubrey,” Oli remarked. Noah’s eyes immediately flew open again at the memory.

“I was supposed to be doing a very serious interview, actually.”

“How did that work out?”

Noah gulped. “Not that well.”

I felt a blush creeping up on my face. I hadn’t seen the pictures yet, even though they were readily available in the group chat, but I could only imagine what they must have looked like taken from Oli’s perspective. The idea of Noah looking at them when he very much shouldn’t be, maybe getting a little horny in the process, desperately trying to hide it but still checking his phone for more, was delicious. It was tempting to tease him a little further, but he looked so genuinely tired and when his stomach gave an audible growl, it didn’t feel like the right approach.

“So, we’re all in the lobby, we’re all getting sleepy and we’re all hungry. How does a movie night with room service at mine sound?”

Apparently, it sounded great. With renewed energy, Noah grabbed half of my bags, Oli the other, both of them almost at the elevator before I’d even gotten up from my seat.

What followed was a mad scramble to my room, a fight over which movie to watch (we ended up with Jurassic Park playing, somehow) and a lot of confused talking down the phone to reception, ordering just about everything on the menu. I mostly sat and watched, the way Oli and Noah interacted, the way both of them made sure to keep including me, the way they moved around in my room as if it was their own, confident and self-assured.

I looked back and forth between them, currently discussing the blanket and pillow situation, and found that my heart beat the same. I wanted Oli. And I wanted Noah. In the same way and so differently still. This was quickly moving away from “silly crush” territory and into something much more serious. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about it yet, but when Noah gave me a dazzling smile, I decided now wasn’t the time to make up my mind.

An hour later, I was close to entering a food coma, watching Laura Dern be dazzlingly fantastic on screen, and trying not to think about the fact that I was squeezed between Oli and Noah on my bed. My thighs were touching theirs - it was simply impossible for them not to - but I suddenly felt self-concious about taking up any more space than that.

Not on Oli’s watch. “The fuck are you fidgeting for?”

I stilled immediately, feeling awkward at being called out. I genuinely hadn’t realised it had even been noticeable. Uttering a quick sorry I slid down a little further on the bed. It wasn’t any more comfortable.

“Jesus christ, just come here.”

Oli’s voice was harsh, but his hands were soft as he pulled me into him. It took a little bit of wiggling around, figuring out limbs and hair, until I ended up with my head on his solid chest, his arm around my shoulders, mine slung over his stomach. My ear was right over his heart. His heart, which was doing double time, in tune with my own.

“Do you need me to leave?” Noah sounded playful, but even without looking at him from my position, I was pretty certain there was a hint of honest insecurity in his question.

“Mate, we need you to join in.”

And just like that, without needing any more reassurance or invitation, Noah plastered himself against my back, moulding his body to mine, carefully placing an arm over me.

I didn’t miss the way Oli’s hand reached for his.

I didn't know how I'd quite gotten myself in this situation, cuddled up between two men who had me blushing, had my heart hammering, had me craving them. Two men who didn't seem to know what they were to each other just yet. None of us having any idea where this was going. What we were trying to get out of this. But right then and there I decided I already loved the mess we were getting ourselves into.

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

[sdr2lovemail]

May I request a similar fic to the Sanemi fic with Kyojuro Rengoku? Or Giyu? (One where he survives preferably) but maybe without thw arguing? I love me some hurt/ comfort. OR Some family fluff would also be cute if you'd rather to that instead ♡ ;w;

If not, that's 100% alright. 🥰 No pressure, I know some people can be real rude 😕

Set Your Health Ablaze! (GN Reader)

Synopsis: After getting injured on a mission, Rengoku helps you get back on your feet

Notes: I fear I struggle to write for Rengoku. :( Great character, but strangly hard to characterize for me. I hope you enjoy! (Weh, two requests in one day, and I'm working on a third! 0u0)

Requests are open!

“It’s okay… We’re almost there.”

Kyojuro’s pulse was loud in his ears. He let his guard down for only a moment, but it was enough time for you to get hurt. His haori was wrapped around your torso, staining dark with blood. Every step he took sent shockwaves of pain through your body.

“Just keep your eyes open and steady your breathing. Kocho will help you soon.” At this point, Kyojuro didn’t know if he was comforting you or himself. The Butterfly Estate was coming into view, and Kyojuro picked up his fast pace. 

Aoi nearly dropped her basket of sheets as the door slammed open. She was about to reprimand Kyojuro for being so loud at night, but she caught sight of you. Her eyes widen and flicker at the Flame Hashira’s disheveled appearance.

His legs were shaking as he took a step forward. “Please… Go fetch, Kocho. It’s urgent.”

Setting the basket down, Aoi quickly guides Kyojuro to a room. “Right, you can bring them in here.  Keep applying pressure to the wound. I’ll be back right away.”

He lied you down as the butterfly girl ran off. It was like he couldn’t breathe. 

It was like his heart stopped. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen you injured, but it’s never been this bad. He knew that being a slayer was a dangerous job. But it never stopped the aching feeling in his chest. It never stopped the feeling of helpless dread that washed over him.

Kneeling by the bed, Kyojuro had one hand gripping yours and the other pressing his haori against the wound. Your pulse was weak but still there. “I’m here, my love. I’m not going to leave your side.” There’s a spark in his eyes as he feels you faintly squeeze his hand.

Shinobu came not soon after and quickly got to work. Kyojuro stayed, wanting to be by your side, but kept out of her way. Thankfully, the procedure didn’t take long. Removing off her gloves, Shinobu stands up from the side of the bed.

“They’ll be okay. You got them here soon enough to make sure of that. While there was a lot of blood, the wounds weren’t too deep. They only needed a few stitches.” She gives Kyojuro a reassuring smile.

He didn’t respond as his calloused hand stroked your cheek. After a moment, He finally spoke up, voice unusually quiet. “That’s a relief. I knew they would be in good hands. Thank you, Kocho. Please, give my regards to Young Kanzaki, too.” Kyojuro smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“There’s no need for that, Rengoku. Healing is our job. Now,” She was about to tell him to go home and get some rest after a long day, but she saw through that cracked smile. Her eyes softened. In moments like these, she was reminded that the man in front of her wasn’t just the flame hashira. He was Kyojuro Rengoku. “Would you like me to set a bed for you?”

“That would be great.”

You wake up to the sound of many repeated chants of the word “tasty.” With tired, heavy eyes, you open them and look around the room. Sitting on the bed next to you was Kyojuro with two trays on either side of him, piled high with food. Practically dropping his bowl, Kyojuro leaps up from the bed. 

“You’re awake!” He shouts, quickly quieting down as he sees you flinch. “How are you feeling, my love?” 

You let out a groan, your voice weak and shaky. “Awful…” was all you were able to muster out. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to be awake. Opening your eyes was a struggle enough.

With near-blinding speed, Kyojuro brings a tray of food over. “Are you able to eat something? You need to replenish your strength.”

“They shouldn’t be eating right now.” Aoi chimed as she brought in a pitcher of water and a packet of medicine. Standing at the bedside table she starts to mix the powder into a glass. “They could get sick. Right now, they’re on a strict liquid-only diet.”

With his usual bright smile, Kyojuro nods. “My apologies! I would hate to make their condition any worse.” 

She sets the glass closer to the bed and looks at you with a stern expression. “Try to drink as much as you can. The medicine doubles as a pain reliever, so you’ll start to feel better soon.”

With a nod, Aoi leaves the two of you alone. Kyojuro helps you sit up. His hands are warm against your chilled skin. It’s a struggle to drink, but once the pain relievers started to work, it went down a lot easier.

“I must apologize.” His voice cuts through the silence. You look up at him with a sluggish, curious gaze. Even with a smile on his face, Kyojuro seemed so sad. There was a heavy, sorrowful, air surrounding him.

“If only I had been a little quicker, you would not be lying in this hospital bed.” Taking a step back, Kyojuro drops to his knees, his forehead pressing against the wood floor. “Please, I hope you can forgive me.”

Mustering up any strength you can, you try to reach down to him.” Hey… Get off the floor. I’m not mad at you. We’re slayers. It’s almost expected of us to get hurt.” You tried to console him.

“You’re much too kind. Always so quick to forgive.” 

The way Rengoku looked up at you was so tender, so loving. His voice is quiet as he gently strokes your back. “Kocho is a wonder when it comes to medicine. You’ll be back to your usual self in no time. I’ll see to it myself.” 

True to his word, when he had the time, Kyojuro was by your side. He would stop by the Butterfly Mansion during meals to eat with you, bringing all types of food from his missions. He oversaw your rehabilitation training personally. Naho, Sumi, and Kiyo were thrilled to have him around to train. But the girls would scold him if they thought he was going too easy on you.

A few weeks later, through some convincing and that bug-eyed stare of his, Shinobu permitted you to finish healing at the Flame Hashira Estate. Kyojuro did everything in his power to make you comfortable while you healed. When he could find the time, he would help you exercise and regain your strength.

In the garden, the two of you spar with wooden swords. With a single swift motion, Rengoku jabbed you in the chest. Setting his hand on your shoulder, he lets out a loud chuckle. “You almost had me there. I’m happy to see you healing up so well. It’ll be any day now before you’re back on missions.” Bright and happy, he pulls you into a hug.

#kyojuro rengoku x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #rengoku x reader #demon slayer #rengoku kyojuro #x reader #kyojuro x reader

[dulcesiabits]

hiii so i loved your ive become the villain’s love interest story sm !! i was wondering if you had like an idea of how each “ending” in a sense for each character would be ? anyways feel free to ignore this and have a great day + make sure to drink lots of water !! <3

THANK YOU ANON I did drink some water upon reading this ^7^ you stay hydrated as well!!!

In general, no matter who you get with, all the other villains will accept your decision. They’ll stay friends with you, and will probably pop by once in a while to annoy your new lover.

For Riddle, if you accept his proposal at long last, he wouldn’t be able to process it at first. When he finally realizes this is real, that you want him as much as he wants you, then he immediately starts preparing for you to move in to his mansion, and orders a seven day feast to be cooked up, and sends invitations out, RSVP now-- it’s up to you if you want to stop him, take an active role in whatever party Riddle’s planning, or just to roll with the chaos. Either way, Riddle is so ridiculously happy in your presence, and so willing to do anything for you, that his visitors will always make a quick stop to flatter you and offer you gifts to get in good with Riddle.

Leona may have found something he wants desperately, but he didn’t think you would actually want him back. Even though his tail is swaying, he still warns you that he can’t give you a cushy life yet. He has plans to change the world, and if you stay with him, then you’re going to be put in danger. But if you chose to be with him regardless, just know that he’s going to be by yours forever. Just wait. Now it’s impossible to get rid of him (though why would you ever want to?) because he sticks to your side like glue… and he loves pushing work onto Ruggie and Jack so he can take naps with you.

Azul is nodding his head as you speak, flipping through his documents. Uh-huh, you like him, you want to spend the rest of your life with him, that makes sense. Can you pass him the ink jar— Wait a minute. As soon as your words sink in, Azul’s papers are scattering across the table, his expression frantic and face red. Congratulations, you’ve got him off guard! Be prepared for a clingy guild leader to spoil you with his riches, taking you out on extravagant dates on his free days. He’ll keep a picture of you in his wallet and take it out to brag to his unfortunate debtors and talk about how he hates making you wait for him to come home because they didn’t pay back their debts on time.

The only regrettable thing about your confession is how fast it spread around the manor. Jamil is ecstatic, of course, but before the two of you can get a chance to properly celebrate your mutual feelings, Kalim and the rest of the household are bringing out the party poppers, and the decorations, and the “congrats on finally getting together” cake. Once everyone else has had their fun, Jamil draws you outside, an unusually serious look. The truth is, he’s always thought about running away and seeing the world with his own two eyes. And if he were, would you come with him?

Vil was waiting for this day! Of course you wouldn’t be able to resist his charm for so long. He is (and this is a fact he keeps pointedly mentioning) the most eligible bachelor in high society. Your life with him continues on much the same way it did before; there’s hardly any difference between your fake and real dates, considering Vil still treats you like the most precious person in the world, acting smug over the fact you chose him over everyone else. However, he is much less forgiving of any pushy nobles, and anyone who dares to disrespect you will end up with their reputation in shambles before the day is out.

What? How? WHY? Idia knows he was the first to confess to you, but you reciprocating his feelings? He would have been happy to stay friends for the rest of his life as long as you were still in his life (Idia takes the longest to get with, just because he waits until he breaks his curse, and even then, he has to be absolutely sure it’s gone before he approaches you). He invites you to move in to the magic tower with him, and though all the other mages say he’s hard to deal with and scary when he’s angry, he’s putty in your hands. Okayyy, fine, he’ll go to the conference he’s been putting off, but... you’ll come too, right?

Congratulations on getting with the crown prince of the kingdom. Malleus is ready to force the entire world to bow to you, offer you ancient treasures passed down in his family and make your birthday a national holiday-- oh. You just want to stay in and cuddle? That’s fine too! As long as he can stay by your side, Malleus is content. The world is literally your oyster when you’re with him. Sure, you’re expected to attend political events and do some royal duties here and there, but if you wanted to just relax, it’s not like Malleus is going to complain. You can do no wrong in his eyes, and if the world says you’re wrong? Well, then he’ll just have to rewrite the laws of reality. He’s ready to dote on you!

#liya answers #manhwa au #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland x reader #sorry this got out a bit late hehe! #i was taking my time working on it

[sunfortune]

can I ask what bridgerton books you’ve read and if they’re worth it

i read “the viscount who loved me” yeeeeears ago. and it is still probably my fav regency romance novel. it’s not even perfect. i just loooved the characterizations. (they’ll NEVER make me hate you book kate) and i think the banter and slow burn in the first half of the book was SOOO good. and literally what so many romance novels LACK. bc insta-lust/love just doesn’t pack the same punch. i’m sorry

also i litchrally claimed kate as a women of color in my own delusions back when i was literally reading a standard White Ass Regency Romance Novel (BEFORE there was ever any show) bc i just loved kate that much. and was like WHOS gonna beat my ass⁉️ (this was after still star crossed lol) she was a woman of color. TO ME.

plus they described kate as “dark” and edwina as “fair” in the book a lot which i know just meant hair/eyes but i was like. slay! no take backs! LDMLSJSKSJ

(so despite everything about the way the show did kate i did absolutely WIN in that aspect)

next. the second book i read was “romancing mister bridgerton”. (again. this is before there was ever a show) bc i liked the little of penelope i saw in kanthonys book. but then. well. reading that book is when i realized “the viscount who loved me” might have been a fluke bc WHAT in the world. “romancing mister bridgerton” was just 350 pages of penelope getting dogged by the boringest MOST bitchless man on earth. the way she PINED for colin from literally page 1. PAGE ONE. but the book doesn’t spend a SINGLE second making him compelling in ANY way, shape or form was MIND boggling. AND THEN gave him the audacity to treat HER like shit⁉️

and the WHOLE TIME the book is like they’re friends to lovers btw!!! hehe <333. NO THEY WERENT! DONT piss me off rn. that man was NOT her friend. he was nice to her ONLY when he deemed her below him. and as soon as he found out she had success in something he didn’t, it was immediate disdain and disrespect for her. that’s not a friend?!

ALL WHILE! she falls all over herself bc of how bad she wants him. i wanted to get her the fuck out of her OWN romance when i was reading that book. i could not believe what it was selling as real true love. garbage

next. i was debating if i should check out another book after that mess. bc i didn’t know if the other were also bad. and eventually just decided to start from the beginning (moment of silence 😞) and pulled up “the duke and i” and then as im reading the synopsis i stumble on a review detailing the plot and that describes the actual sexual assault in that book that gets played off as romance.

aaand i have NOT touched another bridgerton book since

i Have heard eloise’s book and romance is awful by mutuals who have read them all. and benedict’s is not very great either. francesca’s book may be the only worthy follow up to tvwlm. those 2 are generally considered the better ones of the series.

i’m still recovering from the ones i have read though so wont be able to confirm any time soon

in conclusion:

the viscount who loved me (my best friend still idc. not perfect but very gorgeous to me)

romancing mister bridgerton (hot garbage. argue with your mother)

the duke and i (burning books is not always bad. it would be fine here)

#ask #bridgerton #books

[astrobolical]

What In “Hell” Is Bad - Limited L-Grade Banner “Guide”

Note: Now available on android as well! Unsure of any differences. I may go through and update this later with images from my phone rather than my iPad.

Looking for other guides? Check out my WHB Guide List!

Okay… not sure where to start with this one other than it’ll be nice and short. However, this is the first guide I’ve made that I hope I get to change quickly.

To start though; new L-Grade Devils to pull, and pretty, blood-covered versions of Leviathan and Beelzebub. I currently do not have them, however, so I will be unable to show their skill/ultimates at all. I’m not willing to pay for it, though, despite that I do spend money on this game… but yeah.

What’s this all about?

PrettyBusy has given us a brand new temporary banner to showcase their new devils and artifacts, basically. (With some added drama, but we’ll get to that.)

Get Leviathan (Bloodshed) or Beelzebub (Bloodshed) guaranteed within 220 pulls.

Use the new item “Solomon’s Seal” to pull (50 Rings for 1 Pull, 500 for 10 pulls)

DO NOT pull on the standard banners for these devils! Right now they’re only available on this one

The pity (220) is absurdly high, and I’ll get to why soon

You can also get two new artifacts from this new banner.

Wing-ripping Sword

“The wearer’s HP and ATK SPD increases by 20%. If equipped on Leviathan (Bloodshed), has a 30.00% chance of immediately killing the enemy with under 15% HP he hits with a normal attack.”

Cracked Sunglasses

“Upon an accurate hitting of a normal attack, recovers as much HP as 4.00% of HP of the wearer. If equipped on Beelzebub (Bloodshed), recovers 100% HP upon using skill.”

Both really good artifacts! Especially for the new devils. If you have the seals for it all.

What? What’s Solomon’s Seal?

This is the unfortunate part— and it wasn’t properly communicated from PrettyBusy. We knew the new currency was coming, but not the means to get it.

This is only purchasable with real money.

There is four purchasing options, and none of them seem overly well priced? Let’s go over that though. We get 50 Seals for the update (1 Pull).

Prices for Solomon’s Seal Packages:

241 Seals - $11.99 (4 Pulls)

717 Seals - $49.95 (14 Pulls)

1,312 Seals -$59.99 (26 Pulls)

2,200 Seals - $99.90 (44 Pulls)

Just looking at them, it’s like… okay? But thinking about the pity, and the 0.63% chance to draw an L-Grade from the temporary banner, it’s not great.

Assuming you don’t get lucky, and you go all the way to 220?

You would need to buy the $99.90 package around 5 times. Which is ~$500. Being real, you’ll usually get them before pity, but there’s four things to get through this banner if you want everything. That’s a lot of chance.

Why is this not good, though?

Because there is no free-to-play alternative.

These seals are only obtainable in the shop, as I said before. It’s not the first game to do this, and won’t be the last. It’s not the end of the world, either. But it’s not great or motivating to the ftp players or community. I’m not going to keep ragging on this, though.

If you have an issue with this, contact PrettyBusy POLITELY. Not with anger, or profanity. Be nice.

So… I can’t get them?

You can!

Just not now, unless they change how this works. When this banner is over (Nov 14, 2023) they’ll be added to the Standard Banner to pull like all the rest.

Oh! There is one more thing to add!

Story Prologues

On the bottom left of the banners you’ll find story prologues you can read to get an idea of why the boys are bloodied up. Just click the circular icon of the one you want to read!

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb prettybusy #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad? #whb Beelzebub #whb leviathan #~Astro Guides #Seriously do not send hate to prettybusy #be nice everyone #even if they don’t change it it’s not the end of the world #they’re going to standard

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away Timestamp: Adopting Miracle

Summary: Dean has found a friend in Miracle, the dog whose owner perished in a fire. Unable to find a suitable owner, he reluctantly takes the pup to a shelter. Can Dean leave him there to wait for his forever home, or will he have a lot of making up to do with Y/N?

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: General

Bingo Square(s): Adopting a Pet for @j3bingo and “Guess I’m just a sucker for stray dogs and naked guys.” for @jacklesversebingo

Warnings: Fire, dog licks and slobber, implied smut, ruined shoes, ruined roast dinners, a little bit of angst, fluff

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: You thought it was over for these two, didn’t you? I did, too, but when I finished TOTGA, looked at my J3 bingo card to see what was next, and saw “Adopting a Pet, " I knew I had to expand on how Miracle came into their lives. I hope you enjoy this fluffy little timestamp! 💖

My Masterlist     AO3     Ko-Fi

This wasn’t a fire; it was an inferno, and Dean knew they’d be lucky to get anyone out of this alive. They didn’t have long to sweep the building and listened intently for Bobby’s voice on their radios telling them to get out.

“Can you hear that?” Dean asked Benny, who shook his head.

“I can’t hear shit, Captain,” Benny responded.

Dean nodded but kept inching to where he thought he heard a whine. With the roar of the flames and the creaking wood and cracking walls, it was possible what he heard was just part of the fire. Then he heard a bark and saw movement ahead of him.

“Lafitte! Over here!” Dean approached the dog, faithfully standing by his owner, barking to raise the alarm.

“Hey, buddy. It’s alright. I’ve gotcha now,” he said, crouching to be closer to the dog.

“I’ll get him, Cap. You get the dog,” Benny said, and Dean nodded, picking up the dog and making his way out of the building before it crumbled.

“We need a medic over here!” Dean yells as he exits the building, Benny not far behind with the injured man over his shoulder. As Jack and Jo ran towards them with a gurney, Dean put the soot-covered dog down and held him close while the paramedics cared for the patient.

“It’s alright, buddy. They’re gonna take care of him. I gotcha.” The whining, distressed dog broke Dean’s heart, knowing his owner would be lucky to survive the journey to the hospital, let alone recover from his injuries.

“There’s a good boy,” Dean soothed. “I’ll get you a new home, bud. A real good one where they’ll take care of you. I promise.

As hard as he tried, Dean couldn’t find Miracle a home. Bobby had been kind enough to let the dog stay at the firehouse for the past few days. Still, none of his colleagues could take him because they either already had a pet or lived alone and didn’t have someone to look after him when they were on a twenty-four-hour shift. He’d asked friends, too, and no one was willing to take on the responsibility. After five days, Dean took the dog to a shelter, and his microchip at least gave him a name: Miracle. It was an apt name for him, considering how they met.

It’d be hard to leave him at the shelter, but there was no other option. With both he and Y/N working shifts, he couldn’t see a way to make having a dog work. Sure, he only did two or three twenty-four-hour shifts a week, so having a dog would usually be fine. Still, there would be an issue when they were working the same day or night because leaving him alone for at least fourteen hours would be cruel.

But as soon as a handler reached for Miracle’s leash, the poor dog whimpered and cowered behind Dean’s legs.

“He seems to have a good bond with you,” the handler smiled. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you to adopt him?”

“I wish I could. My girlfriend and I,” it still sounded strange to say and made him grin stupidly every time he called Y/N his girlfriend. “We work shifts. It wouldn’t be fair on him.”

“We have flyers on the desk with highly rated dog walkers, and if you have family or friends who could take him when you’re working?”

“We sometimes work nights. I’m not sure we’d find a dog walker willing to do that. And my brother and sister-in-law just had a baby, so that wouldn’t work. My parents might, though.”

“Sounds like you have something to think about,” the handler chuckled.

“A dog, Dean. Really?” He’d be terrified at the look on Y/N’s face if it wasn't for Miracle licking and drooling all over her. “We work shifts. What are we—no, you know what? You. What are you gonna do when you’re working, and I’m on nights? Did you even stop to think about that?” Taking her seriously while covered in slobber and scratching behind Miracle’s ears was hard.

“I spoke to Mom and Dad, and they’re happy to come by and walk him when we’re working and take him overnight when we’re both on nights. Come on, Y/N! You think I don’t know you love dogs, that you’re literally on the floor showering him with love right this second?”

“It’s not the point, Dean! The point is, this is a huge commitment, and we’ve only been living together for two months, and suddenly we’ve, no, I’m sorry, you got a dog? What if it’s too much? What if it—”

“It won’t. I promise. If this doesn’t work out, I’ll take him back to the shelter, okay, Princess?”

“Alright, fine,” Y/N huffed. “He can stay,” she put on her best high-pitched doggy voice while pouting her lips and letting the dog lick her face, and Dean grinned, knowing he’d won this particular battle.

“Uh, you sure about that, sweetheart? You’ve gone from hating the idea to letting a strange dog lick your face in record time!” he teased. Knowing how much she loved dogs, he knew Miracle would win her over quickly.

“Guess I’m just a sucker for stray dogs and naked guys,” Y/N winked, and he frowned. Did she mean the dog? Or—

“Get your clothes off, Dean!” she chuckled. “You’ve got a lot of making up to do for bringing a dog home without talking to me first, and I’m going to start collecting. Bedroom. Now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, the sound muffled as he spoke while pulling his shirt over his head.

Y/N had spent hours in the kitchen cooking family dinner. She loved these when she was younger. It was the one day of the week she could let everything with her father go and just be herself. Be a kid. At least until she got home. She wouldn’t go down that rabbit hole tonight, though, not when she had a house full of people to feed.

Grabbing dishes filled with potatoes and other side dishes, she walked from the kitchen into the dining room to put them on the table. “Dinner’s ready,” she called into the living room. Dean, John, and Sam were watching the football game, and Mary and Jess fussed over Matthew.

Smiling, Y/N walked back into the kitchen, and her stomach hit the floor. “Miracle, stop that right now!” she yelled, seeing the dog on his hind legs, front paws on the counter and eating the roast chicken. “Stop it!” she yelled again and walked over to pull the dog away. “Get down from—Dean! Get in here!”

“Bad dog!” Dean said, pointing at Miracle. “No treats for you!”

“No treats, Dean. Really? That’s all you got?” Y/N huffed and directed her attention to the offending pup. “Why is it always me, huh? Why do you never do this to your dad? You just love pissing me off, don’t you? You’re lucky you’re cute,” Y/N scowled at the dog while scratching his head. Miracle whined and put his head on her knee. “And cuddly,” she grumbled.

“Who wants pizza?” Dean clapped his hands and chuckled, trying to ignore the death stare his girlfriend was throwing his way.

“Dean!” Y/N screamed, and he ran upstairs and into the bedroom. Seeing the scowl on her face, he dreaded to think what Miracle had done now. The dog seemed to love tormenting her for some reason.

“These are Louboutin’s, Dean! My favourite pair of shoes, and he’s just chewed them to shreds!”

“Sweetheart, they’re just shoes. I can get you new—”

“These are not just shoes! These are eight hundred dollar shoes!”

“Eight hun—who in their right mind needs an eight hundred dollar pair of shoes?” It slipped out before he could think about it, and as he met Y/N’s gaze, tears swam in her eyes, and her arms dropped to her sides, each hand holding the remnants of a shoe. Dean swore she’d never looked more defeated than right now.

With tears rolling down her cheeks, she stormed past him and out of the bedroom, fleeing faster than he’d ever seen her move.

“Y/N. Princess, come on! Let’s talk about this!” he pleaded, running after her. “Bad dog!” he yelled behind him at Miracle, sitting in the corner of their bedroom, looking all innocent and cute.

He got to the bottom of the stairs just in time to see her throw the shoes in the trash, pick up her purse and car keys and slam the front door behind her.

Dean sighed when he felt Miracle’s fur tickle his fingers. “What am I gonna do with you, huh? Couldn’t go for a cheap pair, could ya? You know I’m going to have to replace those, right? Eight hundred bucks for shoes! Lost her damn mind...” he mumbled as he grabbed the lead, Miracle trotting happily beside him, knowing it was walk time. 

She’d had her worst shift in a while. There had been a gas explosion near the elementary school that had sent multiple casualties to the hospital. The incident has been truly horrific and spawned multiple fatalities. These kinds of accidents were the worst part of her job.

Getting home a few hours later than usual and exhausted, Y/N went straight to bed. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but dealing with those types of injuries made her lose her appetite.

Slipping out of her shoes and pulling her scrubs and bra off, Y/N moved to her side of the bed, ignoring her usual sleepwear in favour of her underwear and the vest she wore under her scrub top.

Sighing at the golden lump sprawled out on her side of the bed, she sighed, not in any mood to have this fight with him again. Encouraging him to move with a gentle shake, Miracle raised his head to look at her.

“Time to move, bud,” she said, nudging him to get him moving, but Miracle put his head back down on the mattress, ignoring her completely, and she sighed, tears welling in her eyes.

“Dean,” she whispered, nudging him instead. Miracle might not listen to her, but she knows he’ll listen to Dean. He always does.

“Dean!” she says a little louder, and he jumps awake.

“Hey, baby,” Dean rasped sleepily.

“Can you get him to move so I can get into this damned bed?” Y/N asked, defeated.

“Alright, buddy. Time to get down,” Dean said to the dog, who immediately obeyed the command. Y/N sighed, and her shoulders sank, unable to stop the tears.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked, noticing her slumped figure and wet eyes.

“Yeah. Bad shift,” Y/N replied, climbing into bed and wrapping herself in the duvet.

“I saw the explosion on the news. Do you want to talk about it?” Dean asked, and Y/N smiled slightly at the kindness of his gesture.

“No. I just want to sleep.”

“Come here,” Dean murmured as he pulled her into his body and wrapped his arms around her.

Miracle jumped back onto the bed and tried to settle in between them again, but Y/N knew if she let him, he’d shove her out of the bed.

“Miracle, down!” she commanded, and of course, he ignored her and began stretching his paws out, trying to push her to the edge of the bed.

“Miracle, get down!” Dean said sternly, and once again, the pup immediately obeyed and jumped off the bed and out of their bedroom; hopefully, Y/N thought, to spend the rest of the night in his own bed downstairs.

“That dog hates me,” Y/N huffed, and Dean chuckled before kissing her forehead.

“He does not,” Dean tried, but Y/N only scoffed.

“Alright, buddy. I can’t live like this anymore. It’s getting us nowhere,” Y/N said to Miracle, and Dean tried to hold his laughter as his girlfriend tried to level with a dog. “We need to call a truce so we can live our best lives and coexist without me yelling at you all the time and you chewing up all my shoes and eating the Sunday roast.”

Dean looked on, amused, as Y/N crouched in front of Miracle. “What d’ya say, huh? You think we can be friends?” she said, scratching behind his ear, and Miracle barked in return.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes! Now, let’s shake on it.” Holding her hand out, Miracle quickly lifted his paw and placed it in her hand. “Good boy!” Y/N said and scratched his chin, prompting Miracle to step forward and lick her cheek.

As Y/N walked Miracle in the park, she made a mental note to herself to find another route for the winter months. It was getting darker earlier, and she’d worked in hospitals long enough to know what could happen to women walking through parks alone in the dark.

Suddenly, Miracle took off running, pulling his lead right out of her hand, and sped off towards the bushes where he’d undoubtedly torment the life out of a poor squirrel or five.

“Stupid dog,” she mumbled as she briskly walked to catch up with him. “Would never do that to Dean, would you? No, because he’s your buddy, and I’m just… I don’t even know what I am to you. A pushover, probably.”

Walking over to the bushes, Y/N hears rustling and is about to call Miracle, but a man’s voice startled her.

“Well, hey there. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here alone in the dark?” The stench of alcohol almost made her reel back in disgust, but she knew the worst thing she could do was show weakness to the stranger.

Before she could answer, she heard the patter of feet and Miracle barking as he ran from the bushes and stood before her, protecting her from the man with vicious snarls and barks.

Y/N was about to attempt as swift an exit from the park as Miracle’s scare tactics didn’t seem to be working. The dog seemed to come to the same conclusion and lunged at him.

Finally getting the drunk to back off, she wasted no more time getting them both out of there quickly. “Good boy,” Y/N praised with ear scratches. “Let’s go home, buddy.”

For the first time since she’d walked Miracle alone—because he was always on his best behaviour for Dean, he didn’t pull ahead of her. Instead, he walked calmly right by her side all the way home.

“Well, it looks like you two are getting along better,” Dean said when he came home later that night, seeing Y/N and Miracle snuggled up on the couch together.

“We had a traumatic night, and I think we’ve finally buried the hatchet. Ain’t that right, my good boy!”

Dean climbed the stairs quietly, not wanting to wake Y/N. She was supposed to finish her shift at seven last night but had to stay on until the wee hours of the morning.

He walked into the bedroom and smiled at the sight before him. Despite constant protests about the dog being on the bed, Y/N was curled on her side, sound asleep, snuggled into Miracle’s back with a small smile curving her lips.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean whispered, scratching behind his ears. “Were you a good boy for Grandma and Grandpa?”

“He’s always a good boy.” Y/N’s voice was heavy with sleep, and she smiled hazily at him. “Your dad dropped him off at about eleven. He would’ve kept him all night, but I thought I was getting home earlier than I did.”

“Sorry I woke you, baby. Go back to sleep. I was coming up to take Miracle for a walk,” Dean glanced at the pup and frowned when he remained where he was, not even his tail wagging. Walks were his favourite thing, and usually, he couldn’t wait to get outside and cause mischief.

“It’s okay,” Y/N yawned, “I should probably get up anyway.”

“Uh, no. Absolutely not!” Dean placed his hands on his hips, trying to show her he meant business. “It’s only gone seven. I got off shift early. When did you get home?”

“Four,” Y/N yawned again. “Then I took him for a walk.”

Dean nodded, now understanding why Miracle wasn’t keen to go out again. Then again, he wouldn’t leave the bed with Y/N cuddling into him like that, either. “So you went to bed when?”

“About five-thirty,” she answered.

“Nuh-uh, nope. Not a chance in hell you’re getting up right now,” Dean huffed as he shrugged out of his flannel, unfastened his jeans, kicked them off and pulled off his socks. “We are going to sleep for a few more hours.” Dean insisted before directing his attention to the dog. “Daddy’s home now, so you’re gonna have to move, buddy.”

With a huff, Miracle stood from his spot and walked to the bottom of the bed, dropping down heavily on Y/N’s feet. “Did he just give you sass? Oh, how the tables have turned!” Y/N chuckled, and Dean shook his head in disbelief.

“Apparently,” Dean huffed as he climbed into bed. “Now, come here, baby. I need some sugar!”

“Sugar?” Y/N chuckled sleepily.

“Yeah. I want some of my girl’s sugar,” he grinned, shuffling as close as he could and opening his arms to invite her into his embrace. “Come here, Princess.”

Y/N gladly accepted Dean’s invitation, shifting as much as she could with a dog on her feet, and rested her head on his chest. She hummed contentedly as he wrapped his arms around her, and she quickly fell into a deep sleep.

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#j3bingo #jacklesversebingo #the one that got away #timestamp #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

[piichuu]

♡ STRESSED OUT DAYS - MANJIRO SANO

NOTES: gn!reader, fluff

WORD COUNT: 507

AUGUST DRABBLES

as soon as manjiro sano walks into the comfort of the home you two own, he hops onto the couch and wraps his arms around you, burying his face against your stomach while a big breath escapes his lips. he has been away the entire day to take care of a few things with the gang of which he is a leader of, so it’s to no surprise he’s tired.

“doing okay?” you brush your fingers through his hair but he shakes his head, grabbing onto the shirt you’re wearing. “i hate all these stupid people,” he mumbles, not yet showing his face which you let slide this once, he doesn’t seem to be the happy and cheery self he so often is.

“i’m sure they’re not all idiots, mikey,” you smile softly, but he doesn’t agree. “they’re all stressing me out when they know i’m already caught up with all these other fights. they always expect me to take care of everything and sure, i’m the leader, but they can’t expect me to always be there when i have things to take care of too.”

you allow him to just hold onto you, but eventually he moves a little to cuddle against your chest instead, closing his eyes in the process as his body is visibly relaxing against the warmth coming from you. “maybe it’s selfish, but they keep stressing me out. they aren’t listening to me either when i tell them to take care of a few fights without me because i’m busy. it’s like they don’t care about anything i say unless i’m there to guide them through everything.”

he looks up to catch your gaze and you flash him a sweet smile. “i think you’re doing a great job as a leader, mikey. they don’t understand the pressure you get from that position and they should be able to be independent,” you kiss his temple and he leans into your touch, sighing contently. “maybe try to sit down with them and have a real big talk? maybe they’ll understand.”

“yeah, true. i could ask ken for help, they think he’s pretty scary so they might listen to him if he raises his voice,” manjiro buries his face into the crook of your neck. “or maybe this life just wasn’t for me, i may not be cut out to be a leader for such a big gang.”

“i think you do a great job as a leader, they just need to learn that you have your own life and your own fights to take care of,” you stroke his warm cheek and tilt your head to the side. “don’t stress about it too much, it’ll all work out okay.”

he nods and hugs you even tighter when hearing you say that. “maybe i should just rest tomorrow and hang out with you. you’re better than all those idiots either way,” you giggle softly and shake your head. “don’t call them idiots, mikey.” “but they are, they deserved to be called that.” “okay, they’re idiots.”

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x you #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro sano #manjiro sano fluff #mikey x reader #mikey x y/n #mikey x you #tokyo rev mikey #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev x reader #x reader #august drabbles

[skulla-rxcks]

Because you're mine. {Chapter 2}

previous chapter next chapter

Paring: bangchan!afab reader, ot8! Reader

Rating: explicit (eventually)

Genre: mafia au

Warnings: eventual smut but not in this chapter, referenced kidnapping, slight yandere!chan

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

Chapter 2: velvet sheets

“You’re staying in this room” Chan leads me into a luxurious looking bedroom, it has a queen sized bed with velvet sheets on top. “h..huh?” I Question looking at him, unsure on what is going on. A room this fancy? For me?

“Keep your mouth shut, don’t make a fuss about it. And here; put these on.. NOW.” he shoves a black Lacey nightgown into my arms, turning around as he waits for me to change.

What even is his problem, he literally took me away from the world and is hiding me from the outside it seems.

“I..I’m done..” I mutter, Chan turns around and scans his eyes over my body; smiling slightly as an approval.

“Good. Now stay here, do whatever to keep you busy there’s; books, paper and pens, do something, I’ll be back in a few hours.” He leaves, locking the door before I can utter another word.

My legs feel weak and tired, i start walking, towards the bookshelf next to the large window, looking for some sort of distraction. My eyes scan each book carefully, but nothing ends up peaking my intrest. I sigh, grabbing the first book on the top shelf and heading towards the bed, laying down. Not long after I feel drowsiness creeping into my body, soon after I start falling into an uneasy sleep, hopefully this is all just a bad dream

After about 5 hours or so I wake up to the sound of the bedroom door opening, my eyes still shut but my body reacts to the noise.

it’s Chan, the one who brought me here. He stands in the doorway, observing me. Slowly I open my eyes and sit up. As my vision adjusts to the rooms lighting I notice something about Chan, something strange.. he looks hurt almost. I walk up to him to get a closer look.

“Is.. is that blood? What happened are you okay..?!” My eyes widen in a panic, somethings wrong. Somethings really wrong.

“Shh.. shh please calm down.” He replies, pushing me backwards onto the bed and covering my mouth. I squirm under him kicking my legs around; trying to get him off of me.

“Stop. I’m not going to hurt you. Just be fucking quiet already.”

I listen to his command and do as he says, sitting myself back against the wall.

“Why are you..c-covered in blood..?” My words tremble, as I try to keep myself calm.

“Had to get rid of a few people in my way.”

“Get r-rid of.. what do you.. mean..?”

“Murder. I killed them.”

He mumbles under his breath, looking disappointed to be telling me.

“Wh-…what the actual fuck.”

My body freezes up. He’s killed people.. HE KILLS PEOPLE. I could be next, he’s a random guy who kidnapped me.. I wouldn’t be surprised.

“Look, you’d probably find out eventually so I told you myself. Sweetheart, look at me.” Chan puts his thumb under my chin, making me look at him.

“Like I’ve said, I’m not gonna hurt you, unless I desperately have to BUT, I don’t intend to harm you.”

His words comfort me slightly but I’m still confused. If he doesn’t intend to harm me then why is he keeping me safe? I want answers and I know there is no chance of getting any when he won’t answer me straight away, but I will find out soon enough, hopefully.

“Either way i need you to come with me, there’s some people you need to meet. If I don’t introduce you to them I’m not sure what they’ll do to you.”

He offers me his hand, leading me out of the room. As we Walk down the hall way my eyes lock to his hand, studying the expensive rings as well as the watch he’s wearing, it looks expensive. Hell, everything about him and this place seems expensive.

We make our way to what seems like a dining hall, Chan sits down with me at the long wooden table, squeezing my hand under the table to help me stay ‘calm’.

Not long after several guys sit at the table, most of them looking at me wondering who I am.

“Mmm… who’s this?” One of the men say, he has a decently deep voice with an Australian accent, enough to make me feel weak and uncomfortable at the same time.

Chan clears his throat in response. “She’s mine, isn’t that right, yeah?” He turns to me, squeezing my hand so hard that it���s almost painful, signalling me to say yes in response to the question thrown at me.

“M-mhm..” I nod and pull a slight smile, Chans grip moves from my hand to my thigh, squeezing it tightly. Everyone’s eyes are on us, they’re looking at me with dark eyes; like they’re foxes and I’m their prey.

“Well then, guess I should introduce them already..” he says as he pulls me into his lap.

“So in order from left to right.. Hyunjin, Minho, Changbin, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin and Han.”

Tears fill my eyes as I stare at the strangers, did they get kidnapped too? No, they’re all in fancy outfits, they couldn’t be. It wouldn’t make sense.

After what feels like 5 minutes of complete silence I decide to speak up,

“So w-what do you guys do for a living? I know you kill people but.. what else? Why?” I say softly, tilting my head with curiosity.

“Chan didn’t tell you already?” The blue haired one speaks up; Felix. “You’re staying with the Mafia right now.”

“wha.. the Mafia? There has to be some sort of mistake I just wanted to go home and I-” I cry out, trying to hold anymore tears from dripping down my cheeks.

“Now if you’ll excuse us.” Chan says bluntly before I get a chance to speak, grabbing my hand he pulls me towards the guest room I was in before

“Why… why me? Out of everyone you could’ve taken!?”

Instead of answering Chan sighs and stares at me before lifting up my chin and kissing me softy, the kiss only lasted a few seconds; his lips were plump and soft making it comfortable. “Hopefully that answers it.” He mumbles walking out of the room, he didn’t say anything after that, the only thing I could hear is the door slamming, leaving me alone and confused.

Why? Why is he doing this? What does he want from me?

#~skulla rxcks #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #stray kids fanfic #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #skz fanfic

[writergeekrhw]

HOW TO KILL A CHARACTER

(A Writing Spew)

I'm trying to archive some of my old Twitter writing spews on Tumblr. You know, because of things. So here's a rather big one. HOW TO KILL A CHARACTER.

/BeginSpew

Okay, you’re a writer. You’ve got a mess of characters. You want to move your audience. So, it’s time to take out the old writer’s ax and chop chop chop! But how do you do it with maximum impact without your audience turning against you forever?

Pull up a chair and Uncle Robert will explain it to you!

(Warning, there may be spoilers ahead for stuff that if you haven't seen it by now it's your own damn fault.)

Luckily, there are a lot of reliable tricks to kill that character. Any of them can work for both #TVWriting and #Novels. Some of them can backfire. Here are some proven approaches…

Death #1: The Intro Death!

Want to set the stakes for your world? Introduce a character or characters and fool the audience into thinking they will be a big part of the story. Then… CHOP! OMG THEY’RE DEAD! SHIT JUST GOT REAL! AKA the Hello-Die.

The Hello-Die pretty much always works because the audience hasn’t had time to really get invested, but they’re invested enough to feel the sudden shock.

Examples: Psycho. Buffy (S1E1). GOT Teaser. #DS9 pilot. Hill Street Blues (averted).

The Hello-Die is often used by shows to shake up your expectations in what has usually been a fairly safe genre. And yes, I did this in #Andromeda. You think this is a nice safe Fantasy/SpaceOpera/CopShow/FamilyDrama? NOPE! Hello-Die! Watch out for exploding Helmsbugs.

Death #2: The Mentor Death

Your character learns cool stuff from the smart old person. Then the smart old person dies! OMG! “But I had so much more to learn!” “True, but don’t you see? This was the real lesson.” AKA The Obi-wan.

The Mentor Death is pretty safe too. We all know the old people we learn from are going to kick it soon, right? But that’s okay, because WE GOT THIS! Circle of Life, ya’ll!

Examples: Star Wars. Star Wars again. Star Wars that other time too. Harry Potter.

Death #3: The Hero’s First Kill.

Your hero lives in a violent world, but they’re a good person. They don’t want to be a killer. Alas, the world needs them to kill. And you want to portray how that impacts your hero. And so that minor villain must die!

The HFK can be tricky. For best results, the victim should need killin’. Because you want the audience to still like your hero. Plus it’s your hero’s first kill, so you need to overcome their reluctance. Or maybe it’s an accident? (OR IS IT?)

Either way, now your hero is transformed and all it took was offing a minor character. WARNING: Often involves hero puke!

An excellent example of the HFK is the Stable Boy in GoT. Arya asked him to let her go. He wouldn’t. She insisted. He said the Queen would pay her handsomely for her. She lashes out with Needle and… OOOPS! Or was it an oops? Well now he’s dead & Arya’s on her way.

Death #4: The Villain’s First Kill

The opposite of the HFK. The villain is bad, but he hasn’t killed… yet. Then he takes his first victim (usually someone either plucky or gross) and he just can’t help himself! Afterward, unlike the hero, the villain feels good.

He’s got a taste for this now. It’s going to happen again. Cue dramatic (or ironic) music!

The VFK can also sometimes be the Intro Death. Maybe it’s not the villain’s 1st kill, but it’s the first we see. Either way, the VFK is relatively safe, though there's a risk that if the victim is too likable, the audience won’t just hate the villain, they’ll hate the author.

Which is why the VFK is often someone gross or “disposable” or even theoretically somewhat deserving. In American Psycho, the first kill is a homeless man, the second is a Wall Street asshole.

Another VFK example: In the Bone Collector, the first death is a man no one cares about, and he dies off-screen, but the next is a plucky woman who dies horribly onscreen. The story eases you into it.

Still, the VFK is fairly safe. It needs to be just bad enough to shock, but no so awful that you completely lose the audience. You can get awful later once you've built up good will.

Now come some of the tougher deaths to pull off, starting with...

Death #5: The Season One/Book One Death

An important character dies relatively early in your tale. This is usually done because you want to drive home the stakes even more. Also the death launches/twists the story. AKA The Boromir AKA The Ned AKA The Sean Bean.

The Sean Bean is tricky because you’ve spent a fair amount of time getting the audience invested. You may have even tricked them into thinking the Sean Bean is a major hero. The more invested they are in TSB, the higher the risk you might lose your audience.

To minimize audience hate, make sure they understand it’s kind of Sean Bean’s fault. Or a noble sacrifice. Or if the character is minor enough (Hi Tasha Yar) it's a way to show the random awfulness of the universe. The important part is your real heroes will learn from this.

There will be crying and anger and thirst for revenge (or Data will struggle to understand death and we’ll all love him for it.)

The Purpose of the Ceremony - YouTube

Now part of why the Sean Bean works is its earliness. The later in a story a character is killed, the more their death needs to have meaning. You can kill Tasha randomly in Season One but you would never do that in Season Six.

In Season Six, if a regular dies, it better not be random or the audience will feel angry and… Oh. Yeah. Her. I wasn’t on staff then. IT’S NOT MY FAULT!

Anyway, the later you get, the more meaning a death needs to have, ideally.

Now we’re getting into the Big Earned Deaths. So let’s talk about them.

Death #6: The Big Bad Death

This is pretty easy, honestly. The easiest. The audience has been waiting for this bastard to die for years! They will cheer. Even if you’ve run this asshole through the Face/Heel Revolving Door a few times (Hi Gul Dukat), by now, they’re past redemption.

The Big Bad needs killing. KILLING THEM IS KINDA THE POINT. Go for it. Make it as horrific and painful as you’d like. Make them fall a LOOOOOOONG way before they hit something. Make them bounce a bit. The audience will love you for it.

Death #7: The Sacrificial Hero Death

Solid option. You might want to foreshadow the heck out of this. Maybe even near-death your hero a few times. But still, the audience usually gets this one. After all, messiahs die. It is known.

There will be tears, but we all know sometimes the only way to save the world is to die. If the good done by the hero’s death outweighs the sadness the audience feels, this can even be uplifting. Bittersweet chocolate is the best, right?

The SHD is a perfect way to kill a beloved character late in a novel or show. They died for our sins! If not for them, we’d be toast. Very satisfying when done correctly. I mean, there are entire religions based on this. Do it right and it packs an immortal punch.

Death #8: The Shakespearean Tragedy

Your hero isn’t really a hero. They might’ve started that way and/or had good intentions, but they’ve slippery-sloped themselves into full blown villainy… and they know it.

They’ve had their moment of tragic awareness. They realize theirs is a tale told by an idiot. Time to go out in the blaze of glory/late heel-face-turn sacrifice/by their own hand. My kingdom for a horse! Lay on Macduff! Good night sweet prince!

The classic ST is incredibly satisfying for the audience. They’ve enjoyed watching a good person descend into villainy, living vicariously through his/her badassery. They felt bad when the badassery turned to madness. SO MUCH METH!

Now the villain realizes how wrong it all was, and how flawed they are, they deliver a final moral lesson, then CHOP! And... cue Baby Blue, maybe some passing prince gives speech... then... curtain.

Death #9: The Final Wrong

Remember how bad that bad guy is? Gee, when’s the last time they were really, really bad? Time for them to shockingly kill a beloved character right before the final confrontation with the hero! I know you traveled a long way to help, but die Scatman Crothers!

Now there’s no going back. Now the villain can’t be redeemed. They must die. Cue the final chapter/episode/season/third act.

This one is risky as hell and maybe don't kill one of your few/only female POC protagonists this way but hey, you be you.

Death #10: The Sidekick Sacrifice.

Your hero can’t just win clean, right? That’s boring. There has to be a cost. And sometimes that cost is Robin’s life. Often this is a minor heroic sacrifice in its own right, but by someone other than the hero.

The sidekick takes the bullet, goes into the warp core, etc. Can be combined with the Final Wrong. Either way, "I have been... and always shall be... your friend." Cue tears.

Death #11: The War is Hell

A variation on the Sidekick Sacrifice. Beloved character dies randomly in a final great battle because War is Hell.

Sometimes the WiH is just A Bad Break. The bullet came from nowhere. WTF?!? Sometimes this happens in the Fog of War. No one saw it. The hero finds the body afterwards and feels the cost of victory. It’s high, man. So very high.

And yes, I used this one in #TheGoblinCrown. War is Hell even in YA fantasy novels.

Death #13: I Couldn’t Save Her

The riskiest variation on the late character death. The kid your hero has been protecting all along dies. The hero tries to save her/him but fails. Generally, only done in the Darkest Timelines. Or at the start of Alien 3. Fuck Alien 3.

The ICSH tells your audience this is not a hero’s story. This is a brutal examination of the inherent unfairness of life. Surprise!

WORDS OF CAUTION!

WARNING: Beloved Characrer Deaths often do not go over well. Use with caution.

The Final Wrong, the Sidekick Sacrifice, the War is Hell, and the I Couldn’t Save Her/Him are all somewhat risky. Sometimes you kill the very character that the audience most cares about. You know, like Glen. Or Lexa. OMG Lexa!? You can lose big chunks of your audience this way.

Still all four can be effective ways of turning on the feels late in a story. If you use them, make sure they either feel super well-earned or that they fit your theme so well that the audience will accept it.

But be careful. The biggest danger here is when the audience doesn’t realize you’re going to go this bleak and then you do and they feel betrayed. Can be a deal-breaker.

The more innocent the victim, the more horribly they die, and the more pointless the death, the bigger the risk you run of turning off your audience completely. And if it's an underrepresented character that a percentage of your audience deeply identifies with? Oh boy. Run.

Death #14: The Glorious Last Stand

This character was a prick all along, really. No one liked them. But when the chips were down, when our backs were against the wall, the they pulled the pin in their grenade and blew up a crapton of Aliens. Hurray!

The GLS can be supercool. The GLSer wasn’t the hero or the villain. Somewhere in the middle really. But we admire the way they went out. Their death redeemed them. If done right, audience will cheer for their bravery, finally loving them just as they die.

Death #15: The Everybody Dies

Rare. Tricky. Deeply powerful when done right. The time for characters like these is done. Their world is over. Their final great sacrifice, or noble last stand, or tragic Bolivian gunfight was inevitable. But oh how brightly they burned in the end.

Look at how badass they were. Look how bravely they faced death. And remember what it meant! Perhaps we would not be alive today if not for their transformative deaths. We will never forget them. Also their death may spur us all on to victory/change/redemption.

Or maybe the Western is just over. We're gonna miss you, Butch and Sundance! Cue montage!

Death #16 (but not really): Apotheosis

Your character dies technically, but really they become one with the Prophets, God of Light, Force. AKA The Sisko. You can only really pull this off in genre or stuff that pretends not to be genre but really is. Modern variation: Uploaded into the A.I.

Apotheosis can work extremely well if done right. Star Wars does it a lot and it works pretty much every time. You get the OOMF of killing a major character, but you reassure the audience that "They will always be with us."

If handled poorly, it can feel like a huge cheat, but when done well, can be a very satisfying way to kill off your awesome main character at the end of a long series without totally pissing off your audience. Like I said... The Sisko.

FINAL WORDS!

There are lots more ways to kill characters, of course. Including the bad ways to kill.

The It Was Supposed to be a Cliffhanger &Then We Got Cancelled and Now They’re All Dead I Guess.

The That Actor Was a Prick So We Offed His Character and Didn’t Care How We Did It.

The Oh, I Realized I Didn’t Need That Character So Gave Them a Perfunctory Death.

But I think I’ve covered the major and better ways to handle offing a character.

So yeah. Sometimes characters need killing. Just remember, you need to make their deaths satisfying in terms of plot, character, and/or theme or you risk losing your audience.

There are no small deaths. Every character is some off-screen mother’s child. Make it count. Make it matter. Make it worth the pages/screen time.

But think about your favorite movies/books/tv show. I bet they all had memorable deaths. I bet you cried. ADMIT IT, YOU CRIED! Look, I cried when Mike died in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. I CRY EVERY TIME I READ IT.

(Mike = War is Hell/Sidekick Sacrifice/Fog of War)

Character Death is one of the most powerful tools in a writer's arsenal. Like all powerful tools, it should be used sparingly, thoughtfully, and for maximum impact. Give them the deaths they deserve!

And with that, I officially pronounce this spew dead. But don't feel bad. This spew will always be with us.

/endspew.

#tvwriting #tv writing #spoilers #I mean there are tons of spoilers for all kinds of random shit in this spew #ds9 #star trek ds9 #deep space nine #star trek #star trek deep space nine #star trek deep space 9 #deep space 9 #novels #movies #screenwriting #alphas #tng #star trek tng #death #how to kill a character #writing #writing spew