#i just feel like i'm being scolded because if somebody so much as glances at me i think they're angry with me and about to kill me

[rackartyg]

last time my parents and i had a "fight" about my mental health, i told them, crying quite heavily at that point, "you know i'm trying my best, right?"

and they said "yes yes of course we know that" but. i don't think they do. i think they think, in their hearts of hearts, that if i were really trying my best, i wouldn't have any problems. because that's what trying your best means: succeeding.

i genuinely think they don't believe that you can try your best and still fail. of course, if you asked them, they'd say "absoultely not, obviously someone can try their best and not succeed" but that just doesn't match their behaviour and what they say. at all.

#she speaks #i hesitate to call them fights because they're not #i just feel like i'm being scolded because if somebody so much as glances at me i think they're angry with me and about to kill me #i genuinely don't fucking know why i keep trying to stay with my parents. it always just ends with me in tears feeling like shit about myse #at least now that i'm off my meds i can actually cry about it lol #bad brains blogging #ever since starting EMDR i'm so fucking sensitive about triggers too #and they're unavoidable whenever i'm in my hometown because it's so small #one of my coworkers at my summer job is one of my old bullies. tons of them are neighbours with my parents #we went swimming yesterday and i almost cried (again!) because i could see one of my bullies' house from the beach #i can't go into town without going past the road to my old elementary school #and i couldn't stop thinking about [trauma memory no 5003 redacted for length] #i don't want to fucking have to do this anymore

[sleepytiredblorboaddict]

daycare attendant x reader but angsty, u decide how

Sunflowers

pairing: sundrop/reader

cws: hanahaki disease, unrequited love, suffocation, reader death, sun is mean and hates reader, angst absolutely no comfort. zero. nada. zilch.

Many would call you an idiot.

Here you were, sitting on the floor and propped up against the oven. Your head was forced back by the large stem growing from your throat, extending out of your mouth.

Sunflowers, big as can be, had begun to grow in your lungs about two weeks ago. They were beautiful, you'd thought as you coughed up smaller, blood soaked buds. They really were an obvious pick though.

Now, here you were, right lung proven useless by the roots and flowers filling it. It hurt to breathe. Your left lung wasn't fairing much better; you could feel the large flower beginning to climb up your airway. The world was hazy as you slowly suffocated.

But why were you here?

That's the stupid part.

You'd fallen in love with a robot.

---

Your first day at the pizzaplex had been enchanting. You'd been assigned as the daycare attendant's new 'assistant', but based on the job description you felt more like a safety protocol. Keep the animatronic from killing the kids, maybe do some paperwork, you were good.

After a brief tour, you were lead in the daycare by a staffbot. It was just before opening, so it gave you time to finally meet the attendant.

And meet it you did.

It was amazing how articulated it was. Its joints all had 360° rotation, and there were a lot. It bounced and moved so fluidly compared to the main four or the staff bots. Its faceplate was static, but its exaggerated body language more than made up for it.

Throughout a few days of work, you found yourself referring to the daycare attendant as an 'it' less and less. He was more of a.. well, 'he' to you.

Moondrop was nice enough, but usually ignored you. On a rare occasion, he'd quietly chat with you during naptime. Once he even convinced you to join the kids for a nap, seeing your clear sleep deprivation. He seemed to care, on some basic level.

But Sundrop... Oh, Sundrop.

He was delightful to be around. Sure, he didn't like you interfering with his work, but he made sure you took your lunch break on time. Yeah, he scolded you for sleeping on the job, but he had admitted that it was mostly Moon's fault- you didn't know that moondrops were so heavily dosed with melatonin!

He didn't seem to enjoy your frequent conversations per say, but maybe he was just like Moon, who enjoyed quality time over speaking. So, you tried to adapt. You didn't talk to him as much, instead doing simple tasks and smiling at him, or maybe sitting next to him during an activity.

Eventually, it felt like he had gotten comfortable.

If only you'd known.

---

You gasp, back arching and hands tensing as a new flower begins to sprout out of your mouth. Your airway was almost entirely blocked now as you tried desperately to breathe through your nose. Your lungs burned, stung as roots spread and broke through them. You could feel blood entering.

You glanced to the side, at your phone on the floor. It was a passing thought to call somebody- it was too late for you. You'd known what was happening the moment it started.

---

"Sun, I.. I know this is a complicated situation as a whole but- but I think I... love you!"

You had blurted it out, having caught him directly after the daycare closed for the day. You thought, for a moment, that maybe it wouldn't be too awful if he rejected you. Maybe it'd shut down these urges to kiss him, or cuddle against him. Maybe it'd stop this ridiculous fantasy you had.

And what if he said yes? Oh, what a dream that'd be!

But nothing could be worse than how he actually reacted.

"You.. love me." Sun repeated, staring down at you. His shoulders squared as he leaned down to be closer to eye level.

"That's rather problematic, you see, because I, in fact, do not love you. Actually, I quite dislike you if I'm being honest. I only tolerate you because if I don't, I'll get decommissioned. Moon may like your presence but I very much do not. You're obnoxious and clumsy and I need to keep a closer eye on you than a toddler."

You froze, staring him in the eyes. This close, you could see the outline of his nearly invisible pupils. You begun to shake.

"I'd even go as far as saying I hate you."

"..oh," you whispered, dread settling in your stomach and anxiety in your chest.

Sundrop stared at you for a moment longer before standing to his full height, turning on his heel, and walking away. As he walked, his hook came down to latch onto his back. You watched, dumbfounded, as he flew high, so so high- so far away from you- and onto his platform.

He didn't even look back as he ducked through the curtain.

Man, did you feel shitty.

---

So now, here you lie, two weeks later. Out of a job (of course Sun had reported you), out of a friend (at least Moon was cordial), and out of a life (these flowers were growing fast).

You were young, you thought as your eyes slid closed. You had gotten good grades, got into a good school. You were even going to open your own daycare one day.

But now, as you lie on your kitchen floor, flowers begin to pierce through your ribs and another ascends from your mouth.

Your jaw falls slack as you limply slide down the oven door.

All because you fell in love with the wrong person.

#sundrop x reader #dca x reader #daycare attendant x reader #dca angst #angst #HEAVY angst #cw death #this was literally so fun to write #sundrop

[mypoisonedvine]

for the sleepover, a bit of a throwback, but maybe movie night with best friend!alex kerner that accidentally becomes more 👀

GOD the way this gif launched me right back into my alex era, I would fully let him ruin my life and just say thanks... he's really The Boy

warnings: sexual tension, awkward alex being awkward and just a touch pervy, implied smut, slutty reader lmao

He wasn't sure what to do, or say— or think— when a sex scene came on. Tensely glancing at you sitting next to him on the couch— bare feet up on the cushions and your knees against your chest, eyes staring forward and reflecting the blue-ish glow of the erotic scene before you, hand mindlessly moving from the bowl of popcorn to your mouth and back— he wondered if he should just ignore it, or address the tension directly with a woah, this is a little awkward, or act super cool like hey look, they're having sex, I totally do that all the time.

Okay, acting super cool was not an option: if he knew how to do that, he would just do it all the time.

But he figured he was better off saying something, because it seemed like it was getting more awkward the longer the silence went on— at least, it was for him, as he wrung his clammy hands together and bounced his leg and nearly winced as the couple on screen grinded and writhed together on top of silk sheets. His mind couldn't help but supply images of how it might look if the two of you did that... and his dick couldn't help but react. He internally scolded it to mind its own goddamn business just as he turned to you to blurt out something casual to say about all this.

"I didn't know this movie had a—" he began sheepishly.

"Oh, that's hot," you commented, at the same time.

"What?" you both said to each other, then laughing at the way you'd spoken over each other twice in a row.

"Sorry," you said, "what'd you say?"

"I— I was just saying that I didn't know this movie had a sex scene," he replied, swallowing with a dry throat as he awkwardly pressed, "what, uh... what did you say?"

"Oh, I just said it was hot," you smirked, looking a bit embarrassed to have to repeat it. "I mean when he, you know, sucked on her nipple— that was hot."

Alex felt his face heat up and hoped the dark room meant that you couldn't see him turning beet red. "Uh... yeah, I guess it is..."

"Sorry if that's weird to say," you dismissed, "but I mean, that's why they put it in the movie, right? 'Cause it's hot."

"I... guess so." You mean they didn't put it in the movie specifically to torture me, right now?

"Now I feel dumb," you winced, "like, kinda outed myself for being into that— I mean, you're looking at me like I'm crazy..."

"S-sorry," he choked, "you're not crazy, I, uh— I guess I just never thought about that."

"You never thought about putting your mouth on a tit?" you chuckled. "Alex, it's all you knew how to do for the first, like, year of your life."

"I don't mean— I've thought about that! I've, you know, I've done that with girls before," he defended. "Although I'm usually trying not to think about breastfeeding when I do, so thanks for that."

You snorted, "welcome."

"I meant that I hadn't thought about, you know, like... what you're into," he said. "We don't really talk about it."

"Yeah we do!" you frowned.

"No, we talk about who you're into," Alex corrected, "but it doesn't go much further than 'he came over last night' or whatever."

"Yeah, sorry if that put, like, some awful image in your mind," you shook your head as if to shake off the thought. "Didn't mean to be weird."

"It's fine, it's not an awful image," he said— but he wished he could've said it differently even before you reacted with a mischievous grin.

"Oh, so you like thinking about it!" you accused, suddenly setting aside the popcorn and sitting up to lean closer to him and poke him in the side as he nervously defended himself.

"Wait— I didn't mean like— stop!"

"You're into it now, huh! Thinking about somebody sucking my tits? Perv," you teased.

"Shut up, I didn't mean that— I was just saying—" he stumbled nervously; his cock was just happy you were touching him at all, and he awkwardly flailed around as he tried to fight off your teasing touches and hide the tent in his jeans.

"Imagining other guys licking my perky, hard, sensitive nipples," you continued anyways, doing your best mockingly-sensual voice, like some kind of parody porno.

"Not— not other guys," he blurted out his correction.

He was kind of hoping you wouldn't hear it, but you stopped your teasing dead in your tracks. Everything stopped— except the movie, of course, which had since moved on to a normal scene but was going totally ignored. "What?" you asked softly.

Alex choked on his own throat. "I— that's— um—"

"Were you thinking about... doing it to me?" you continued.

"No," he lied.

"Is that why you're hard?"

He covered his groin with his hands, but it was a bit late for that; and it wasn't just the reflection of the TV that made that sparkle shine in your eye....

"Oh, Alex," you purred, "I thought you knew you could've just asked, I don't mind..."

"Yeah, but," he sighed shakily, "that's not what I wanted from you, okay? I know you let guys... I mean, I know you sometimes— uh—"

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to finish the thought.

"I mean, you hook up with guys. And it doesn't mean anything— and some of them are your friends, some of them are my friends, actually..."

You bit your lip, and his cock jumped in his jeans.

"And I figured if I told you that I wanted to, um, try something, with you, you'd probably let me. But that's not what I want."

"So you... don't want to put your mouth on my tits?"

"I— I just don't want it to not mean anything," he finally admitted. "If we did, I mean. If you wanted to. Hypothetically."

You scooted closer, making him feel cornered on his own couch. "What would you want it to mean?"

"I would... I mean, I guess I'd, uh," he stalled, scratching the back of his neck. "I'd want it to mean you're my girlfriend?"

The longest second in the world passed, before you smiled, and he hoped that was a good sign. "You're so traditional," you said, sort of mocking but sort of sweet, too. "Don't wanna fool around with just any old girl, huh?"

"Well, you're not—" he began having to catch his breath and start over when you suddenly began to straddle his lap, looking down at him with that up to no good look in your eyes. "You're not any old girl."

"Definitely not," you smirked. "I haven't been somebody's girlfriend in a long time— and I've never been your girlfriend. What can I expect? Aside from getting my tits sucked on."

"Uh— well, I'd kiss you," he decided, gingerly resting his hands on your back and hearing his voice get quieter like he was sharing a secret. "And... take you on dates."

"Mm," you hummed approvingly, beginning to toy with his hair a bit; his cock throbbed at the affection, and he wondered if you could feel it sitting in his lap like this.

"I'd... I'd do whatever you wanted, really," he laughed thinly, rapid heartbeats rattling in his chest. "I'd do anything for you. I think I've already told you that."

"Yeah," you breathed, "you did. Nobody's ever been as nice to me as you are, Alex."

"I figure that's why you don't want to be my girlfriend," he offered with a sigh, but you lifted his chin to make him look at you— and he figured he looked just as pathetically desperate as he felt.

Thankfully, you didn't seem to mind; you gave him a kiss, gentle and sweet, and he felt his shoulders sink in relief as he kissed you back. He held you tighter, pulling you in for more, but you broke away and he chased after you for just a second before he caught himself. "Sounds nice, actually," you decided. "When can we start?"

"Um... right now, I think," he replied, and you smiled wider.

"Where's our first date gonna be?" you wondered.

"At this rate, I think it's gonna be the right across the hall in my bedroom."

#30k sleepover #request #alex kerner x reader #alex kerner smut

[call-me-a-simp]

Heal My Wounds

Will you..? (part 25)

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Tw: physical and sexual abuse, toxic relationship, selfharm, eating disorder

Summary: You are in a toxic relationship with an abusive man but manage to run away. A tall, black haired woman picks you up from the streets just in time so your ex doesn't get you. But who is she and why does she seem so familiar to you? As you get to know each other you start to notice weird feelings you never had before whenever she's around.

Your drinks arrive and you just can't wait any longer. "Rhea please, you know how unpatient I am" you whine.

"Ah ah, not so fast sweetheart" she teases you even more. "After we've eaten okay?" "Fine.." you grumble.

You're kinda mad because you don't like waiting but you still smile at her. God I love her so much. How can somebody be this perfect?!

"Hey love, wanna share this? It seems like they're serving pretty big portions here" Rhea says. "Yeah of course" you smile. "What about you guys?" you add.

"I think I'll go for number 56" Dominik answers "and I'll take.. This! Whatever it is but it sounds interesting" Finn states. Damian chuckles and waves for a waiter to come over.

You all order and then talk a little until your food arrives. "Yep, you were totally right with big portions" you mock Rhea, cause they were actually pretty normal sized and you needed to order another one so you both could get fed.

"Mh, this actually tastes really good. Anyone know what it is?" Finn asks you all. "Let me try" Dom says excitedly. "sure here, take this" Finn answers and you all laugh as Dom does his little happy claps.

You continue your dinner and chat and laugh throughout the entire time. That is, until Dom decides he can't hold back any longer.

"Rheaaa, when are you finally going to do iiit" he whispers to her, except the whole table could hear it. "Dom Dom!" she scolds him and shoots you a kinda angry and also apologetic look as you chuckle.

"Sorry.." Dominik mutters, although he doesn't give up just yet. "But-" "No!" Damian and Finn say simultaneously. Rhea laughs at Dom who pouts now.

"You know, I'm kinda on Dom's side, I think we waited long enough" you look at Rhea with a warm smile. "I know I- I'm just not quite ready yet.." she says and blushes slightly.

You chuckle a little "it's okay, take your time. Wanna get some dessert?" "Oh oh, yes, I want ice cream!" "Dom stop acting like a little child!" Damian laughs.

You wave a waiter over and order an ice cream for Dominik and a "family surprise" for the rest of you. "I wonder what they'll bring us. I hope it's got something to do with chocolate" Finn says.

Rhea leans over to you and whispers "can you let me out real quick? I need to go to the restroom" "yeah sure, is everything alright?" "ye, ye don't worry" she smiles reassuringly.

You get up and take a step away to make room for your girlfriend to get out of the corner. You sit back down without noticing that Rhea isn't even walking in the direction of the actual bathrooms.

You look around a bit as the boys were chatting about whether you were supposed to eat Nutella with or without butter.

You spot a camera team outside the window. Probably because the whole Judgement Day was there and they finally got to see you and Rhea together somewhere else than on the parking lot from the arena.

The restaurant also got pretty full. Lots of people were there, chatting and eating and glancing over at you every now and then.

"Hey guys" you try to get the boys attention "why is this man standing there with a mic?" "I don't know, let's see" Damian smirks. It's a little awkward but you still have no idea.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could please get your attention" the man with the microphone says. "I'm the owner of this place and today is a very special day!"

You see the camera team walking in, trying to get the best shots and catching everything that's being said.

"Please turn your attention to Demi Bennett, better known as Rhea Ripley!" the restaurant owner says and Rhea steps out from behind the corner. "Thank you" she leans over to the man and speaks in his mic.

She walks over to you and you just look at her confused. She smiles from ear to ear and gets down on one knee. "Y/n L/n. I've only known you for about three to four months, although you knew me for a lot longer." she says.

Slowly but surely you knew where this was going and why all the people and the media were here.

"I know, your past experiences with relationships were quite.. Njeah let's say difficult. But I want to change that and I think we've already made a great start. I can't imagine my life anymore without you in it, so.. Y/n, will you marry me?" she asks and pulls out a beautiful, really expensive looking wedding ring.

You're too overwhelmed to think" I- yes! Yes of course I wanna marry you!" you shout and jump up to hug her. Rhea laughes and let's out a sigh of relief. Everyone's applauding and congratulating you.

You both smile at each other and kiss, resulting in even more applause and cheers from the croud." I love you so much, I can't even find the right words to describe it" you smile at your now fiancee. "I love you too, more than anything in the world!" she answers and pulls you in for another kiss.

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

Part 25 and finally you get the surprise you've all been waiting for, hope you enjoyed it ;)

Taglist:@babybatlover @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thatonepansexual2000 @nox-fire

#demi bennett #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #wrestling #wwe x reader #ex boyfriend #damian priest #dominik mysterio #finn balor #fancy restaurant #proposal #rings #gxg fluff #gxg imagine #gxg scenarios #gxg #gay wedding #gay love

[devilyn]

is that too much to ask? | tsukishima kei

— alexa, play: love somebody by lauv

I don't wanna be the one to say

That we gotta have a conversation

I don't wanna watch the tears roll down your face

Know, I hurt you, and I, I'm sorry

All I wanted was to love somebody

— synopsis: tsukishima avoids physical affection with you as often as he can, and you wonder what it is that you’re doing wrong in your relationship.

— genre: angst, happy endings, & the product of my writer’s block

— word count: 2.6k

You knew Tsukishima wasn’t the affectionate type--you knew that when you asked him out in your second year of high school. You knew that if you hugged him in front of his volleyball teammates, he’d stiffen and cringe away from your touch. It was natural for you to start reaching your arms out towards him before stopping yourself and resorting to a proud pat on the arm and a bright smile. It was to the point where even Hinata once commented that he’d never even see the two of you hug.

Now that the two of you were in university, and almost three years into your relationship, you started wondering what exactly it was about physical affection with you that Tsukishima hated so much. You started to experiment--slipping your hand into his when you walked back to your shared apartment together after his long volleyball practices, or tossing your arms around his neck in excitement after he wins a tough match. Each time, he’d react the same way. He would pull his hand from yours, or he’d put his hands on your shoulders and put some distance between the two of you.

At first, you believed it to be embarrassment. He didn’t like PDA--you could understand that. Even you had a limit to how much you could flaunt your relationship status in public. But even when the two of you were in the comfort of your apartment, you wondered why he never initiated any physical affection.

“Kei,” you whispered his name softly, and he looked up from his phone to meet your eyes. “Do you...not love me?”

He blinked, raising both brows in genuine surprise and slowly lowering his spoonful of cereal back into his bowl. 

“...Are you dumb?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and tightening your grip on your keys.

“It’s whatever,” you murmured, pulling the front door open and not bothering to spare him a glance over your shoulder. “I’ll see you.”

You left quickly to not have to deal with the aftermath of your sudden question, the door shutting firmly behind you.

Was it selfish of you to want more proof of his love for you? Sure, there were small things. Things like how he always helped you study for your exams if he could, or how he’d make you a cup of coffee before you left because he knew you struggled with staying awake during your morning classes. You knew he loved you because of these things.

But there was always a small voice in the back of your head asking if he only did those things to drag your stagnant relationship on. For a year now, it felt as if every day was the same with him. Actions were repetitive, dates were infrequent and only occurred when you asked, and at times, each day with him felt like a clone of the previous. Which is why you started wanting to hold his hand, and melt into his warm embrace.

Your fingers tightened on your tumbler, holding the contents of your boyfriend’s love--the coffee he made you this morning. 

Even at home, he would merely pet your head when you cuddled into his side on the couch. Kisses were rare unless you initiated, and he’d always tease you whenever you whined about wanting him to kiss you first. It’s not like you two never had sex either, so what was so wrong about your relationship that left you wanting more?

Your phone buzzed in your other hand, and you glanced at it briefly.

u ok?

You tucked your phone back into your pocket without replying. You never should’ve asked. Now you’ve disrupted the peace you had in your stagnant relationship.

Though, maybe it was okay to want more.

“Is it really a problem?” Kuroo sipped his drink through his straw, raising a brow in your direction. “You’ve been dating for three years. I’m more surprised that you didn’t bring this up to him earlier.”

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the half empty tumbler, teeth gnawing anxiously at your lower lip.

“...I think I was too scared in the beginning,” you murmured.

“Mm,” your friend hummed softly in agreement. “You’ve changed. You were always affectionate before.”

You blinked, raising your gaze from the table between the two of you to meet Kuroo’s grin.

“How’d you know that? We just became friends in uni--”

“Tsukki told me,” he cut you off, and your fingers stopped tapping against your drink. “And it’s not like I don’t notice that you hug me more than you hug your boyfriend.”

“First of all, don’t say things that can be so easily misunderstood,” you tossed a crumpled up napkin at the former captain, and he quickly dodged it with a short laugh. “Second, what do you mean Kei told you? He said I used to be more--affectionate?”

This was news to you. You never thought that he would notice how you changed to make him feel more comfortable with your relationship.

It was true that towards the beginning of your relationship, you were always scared of upsetting him, so you did everything you could to change to his needs. You held back words you knew he wouldn’t want to hear, and only ever spoke up if something truly bothered you. It worked up until the end of your first year before you started opening up to him slowly. But something you could never seem to breach was Tsukishima’s habit of avoiding physical affection. 

“You know how he is,” Kuroo waved his hand dismissively, “Your boyfriend’s terrible with emotions. I tell him all the time that I’m surprised you lasted so long--”

“Don’t talk badly about him like that,” you scolded your friend with a scowl, to which he snickered quietly.

“Well, you can’t deny it, can you? He sucks, but he has his good points. That’s why you’re still dating him, right?”

It was true that you couldn’t deny it. Tsukishima had many faults, and his lack of desire for physical affection was only one of them. Still, you were just as much at fault for not communicating with him out of fear that he’d leave you.

“He’s just scared, y’know,” Kuroo rested his chin in his upturned palm. “Just like you. Even after three years, he’s not used to affection. Why don’t you just talk to him instead of sulking about it to me? I feel like I might as well be the third person in your relationship with how often you two come to me about each other.”

You were quiet for a bit, swirling the now cold coffee around as you processed the thought of confronting the issues you’ve been burying for so long.

“...he’d never date you,” you finally murmured, turning your gaze out the window.

“Ah, and you would?”

You didn’t need to look up to see Kuroo’s smug smirk.

“You wish.”

But no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, there was some truth in Kuroo’s words. You had used him as a therapist far too many times, when your issues could easily be solved by confronting your fears and sitting down to talk with the man you lived with.

If only speaking to Tsukishima about your problems was as easy as it sounded.

By the time you finally gathered up the courage to even speak his name, your boyfriend was standing from the dinner table to grab your plates and heading towards the sink where his dishwashing responsibilities awaited him. The sight of his broad back seemed to glue your lips shut. 

You couldn’t get the words out.

“Do you hate being touched by me?” was the first thing you wanted to ask.

“Is it wrong for me to ask for you to tell me you love me sometimes?” would probably be the second, paired with, “Can you just kiss me once in a while without complaining about it?”

It all felt so childish, even before the words left your lips. So instead, you sat frozen in your chair, gazing at your boyfriend’s back that you longed to embrace.

Slowly, you stood. Before your brain could tell you how stupid of an idea this was, your feet moved forward until you were standing just a step away from Tsukishima’s much taller form.

Your arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and you could feel the way he jolted in surprise as you rested your cheek against his warm back.

“I’m washing--”

“Do you hate me?”

Silence.

Well, that question didn’t come out as expected, though it’s not like you didn’t wonder that too.

“Don’t turn around,” you pleaded quietly over the running water. To someone else, you must’ve looked like a fool, clinging onto your boyfriend like your life depended on it while he soaped up your dirty dishes.

He granted your wish, and didn’t whirl around to pull away from your touch. Instead, he continued scrubbing at your dinner plates.

“You have until I finish washing the dishes to explain yourself,” he stated calmly, and your arms tightened around his waist. It was a demand.

“I heard...from Kuroo that you said I used to be more affectionate before we started dating,” you stammered out quickly, “If you knew that, then why do you get so stiff and push me away when I try to initiate physical affection even after we’ve been dating for three years? Do you hate being touched by me so much?”

The kitchen was quiet, now that your boyfriend was drying the dishes. His hand stopped moving robotically over the wet plates, and he slowly set them down on the counter instead. You could tell he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure how. So you continued.

“I do know that you love me, Kei,” you murmured weakly, voice muffling against his shirt as you shifted to rest your forehead against his broad back instead. “I do. I know you’re always thinking of me, and I love that about you. But when you push me away, I can’t help but think that you’re just pretending to love me for the sake of convenience.”

“If I wanted convenience, I wouldn’t date you,” he mumbled under his breath, and the words stung to the point that your arms dropped from around the middle blocker’s waist.

No longer confined by your embrace, Tsukishima spun around and grabbed your shoulders, his eyes wide with panic.

“Y/N wait--I didn’t mean it that--”

“You’re such an ass,” you averted your gaze from his, trying to blink away the tears that began to blur your vision.

“Listen--” his voice was frantic, but you didn’t let him continue. You were scared to hear what would come next if you did.

“I guess I was wrong, and the voice in my head is right,” you cut him off, voice trembling. “So I’ll just tell you everything that I held back since it’s all going to fall apart anyway.”

It took all your courage to turn your teary gaze back to his deceivingly sorrowful golden eyes.

“Is there something so disgusting about me that you don’t even want to hold me? Even after this many years?” you began, fully prepared to spill every one of your fears from the past three years. “Am I asking for too much when I ask you to kiss me every once in a while? Is it wrong for me to want you to just tell me you love me sometimes? Am I a bad person for thinking our relationship has become so boring because neither of us want to make the first step to try and change because we’re both scared of scaring each other away?”

You rubbed your arm against your eyes, trying to pretend like you weren’t sobbing into your sleeve. Though you’re sure you weren’t a very good actor, with the way you hiccuped and took shaky breaths between your questions.

“Did I make a mistake trying to change myself to fit your standards? Should I have never confessed to you back--”

Your voice was suddenly muffled into your boyfriend’s chest, and you gasped at the suddenness of his hug.

“Please don’t regret it,” he requested weakly, his voice trembling just as much as yours.

Those simple words were all it took for your sobs to come out freely, your shaky hands clawing upwards to grip onto Tsukishima’s t-shirt, clinging onto him as if he was the only thing keeping you grounded. It was a hug you’d been craving for ages--one he initiated. You hated that it took you throwing your heart at him for it to happen, but what were you to do?

He allowed you to cry as he continued.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he murmured into your hair. “There’s nothing wrong with what you want. I was...just scared, like you said.”

“Of what?” was what you wanted to ask. And like he read your mind, Tsukishima elaborated.

“The more I hug you, and the more kisses we share, the more I fall for you,” he whispered, as if fearful of the words he was admitting to you. “The deeper I fall, the more scared I get that you’ll leave me when you remember how bad of a boyfriend I am. I want to give you 100% of me, but at the same time, I’m too scared to do exactly that.”

Your cries were quieting down, and you took shaky breaths, inhaling his familiar scent each time. Just his embrace managed to soothe your frantic sobs.

“So I avoided anything that would make me fall too much in love with you, but it’s already too late,” he laughed bitterly, pulling back slightly so he could cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing at the wet streaks staining your skin. Your lips pursed into a small pout, and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “I already love you too much to let go of you, and you know it.”

“...you’re really, really not allowed to be cute right now,” you grumbled, and he laughed.

“Yeah, I could say the same to you,” he joked, leaning forward so his lips could brush over your forehead.

“...can you kiss me now?” you murmured shyly, and his grin morphed into a weak smile before his hands tilted your jaw up towards him. His lips met yours softly, and though this wasn’t your first kiss, it was the first time you’d felt this way with Tsukishima in three years.

When he pulled away, you were crying again.

“Stop crying,” he cursed, “If someone saw you right now, they’d think I was bullying you.”

You babbled something incoherent through your tears of joy, and your boyfriend’s expression softened in a way you hadn’t witnessed in what felt like years.

“You have to take responsibility, you know,” his palms cupped your jaw, pulling your teary gaze back up to his as his thumb brushed over your lower lip. “For making me fall so deeply in love with you again.”

You laughed, tears dripping down your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around Tsukishima’s neck to pull him down into another love-filled kiss.

“Until when?” you grinned when you pulled away, his eyes closed as he sighed happily and rested his forehead against yours.

“Until I make up for the three years I put you through,” he mumbled, and you smiled softly as your lips grazed over his lightly. As you pulled back, he leaned forward and peppered kisses across your face.

“So, until forever?” you teased with a quiet giggle.

“Until forever,” he whispered, lips meeting yours once more.

#tsukishima kei #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei angst #tsukishima angst #tsukishima kei scenarios #tsukishima kei imagine #tsukishima kei imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles

[ruins-posts]

Totally didn't just stalk your account after just finding it pfft-

I was wondering if I could have a scenario where Sebastian falls for a confident, goofy and overall kind maid? Like she and him banter a lot and she's just easy to be around, funny, and even figured out him being a demon and accepts him for it, never treating him differently.

But one day he catches her being insecure about her size as she's a bit chubby and everyone has their moments and need reassurance every now and then so whablam, he confesses and they get together 💕💕💕

Thank you so much!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐲 {𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐬}

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis x Reader

A/n : Sorry this took so long.

Warnings: insecurities

A displeased sigh escaped your lips as your mind continued to drag you into an unpleasant chain of thoughts, one that you couldn't seem to get out of. Insecurities were not something you'd face often, but they did seem to get the better of people at times, and now, you had fallen victim.

So lost you were in your thoughts that you didn't even take a notice of a certain butler sneaking up behind you. This butler had taken quite a liking to you, considering that you were a somewhat odd human- one who did not mind his demonic nature and continued to treat him normally.

It was not until two gloved hands playfully wrapped around your waist, that your unpleasant thoughts were interrupted.

"Sebastian!" you heaved, "Goodness, you scared me!"

"Oh, did I?" the demon smirks. "My sincerest apologies."

When there were no usual lively greetings from your side, Sebastian got a hint that something had been bothering you.

"Something seems to be bothering you," he speaks. He looks at your reflection in the stainless glass of the window in the front. "What is it?"

Unwilling to let him know, you shake your head. "Nothing is bothering me, Sebastian. I'm fine." you smile in an attempt to justify your lies, but Sebastian sees right through it.

"You know, (Y/n)? Lying to a demon is going to get you nowhere." he turns you around to get a better look. "Now answer me. What's bothering you?"

"Why trouble yourself with my problems, Sebastian?" you ask. He was a flawless being, it's not like he'd ever understand what an imperfect human such as you is going through.

"Because I must admit, my dear, that I've grown rather fond of you." the words spill out of his mouth with ease, "And so whatever might be of bother to you must be eradicated most immediately."

"F-Fond of me?"

He merely chuckles before answering, "Indeed."

"But why?" you mutter in utter confusion. "Why somebody like me.....?"

"Why not?" the response is immediate, the butler himself confused by your reactions. His fingers trace your chubby cheeks to provide you with comfort.

"Because.... I'm not worthy..."

"Worthy of what?"

"Of you."

For a while, the demon went silent. It came to his realisation that while you engaged people in a cheerful and happy front, there were secret glances in the mirror, eyes full of insecurity that nobody noticed.

"I assure you, that is most certainly not true." he spoke, he lifted your chin to lock his eyes with yours, pulling you into a almost hypnotising stance. "You are an intriguing being, one of the rare ones that capture my attention."

You could try as much as you wanted, but it was impossible to not blush at his words.

"While the others would run away, you remained, despite knowing what I truly am." he continued in a soft tone as he inched closer, "And even so, you continue to intrigue me in various ways. That is exactly why I am so fond of you, my dearest."

"S-Sebastian..."

His soft lips pressed yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss, the demon pouring in feelings that he never thought he could have. He parted from you annoyingly soon, hands resting on your waist.

"Do not let such pathetic thoughts bother you, they mean nothing." he gave you a final scolding, making you smile.

"Yes sir, never again."

#sebastian x reader #black butler x you #black butler x reader #blackbutler x reader #sebastian michaelis #sebastian x y/n #sebastian x you #sebastian michaelis x reader #kuroshitsuji sebastian #black butler sebastian

[regencyslxt]

Wrong Conclusion

1410 words.

Imagine reconnecting with Benedict after a less than easy split.

a/n: i'm not too sure how I feel about this one, but i hope you like it anyway! x

The doors in front of you brought back fond memories, the boxing ring sat inside was your home away from home before you left a year ago. You had chosen to flee instead of fight, something you are sure both Will and Simon will interrogate you about should they still spend their days here. You were very well aware that there were people inside, not many but some, as the candlelight gleamed through the windowpanes onto the street. Anxiety crept into your chest as your heart raced. What if they do not want to see me? Will they be happy I am home? Have they missed me? These questions replayed repeatedly in your mind. Questions that would be answered if you could just push yourself through those doors.

You took a deep breath, grasped the handles, and made your way inside. Your eyes took in the sights before you: the ring was still there but the ropes had been changed, the benches on the side-lines looked shinier. Have they been polished or waxed? Everything had seemed to be in better shape than it was when you left. But you were not here to judge the décor, you were here to see old friends or at least that’s what you told yourself. Telling yourself you were solely here for the purpose of seeing your friends once again made this less difficult than it needed to be. However, fate did not seem to be on your side as you glanced at the few people gathered around the bar. A certain man catching your attention, Benedict Bridgerton. You wish you could say you were happy to see him but as your eyes met and the look of shock and hurt made its way onto his face you couldn’t help but feel small in the place where you were once at your best.

…

“Where were you last night Ben? I missed you very much, I had to dance with Anthony and you of all people know just how much he despises the dance floor.”

“I was at home my dear, I am sorry I could not attend Trowbridge.”

“Oh, but your mother had said you were not home when she returned late last night.”

Silence surrounded you.

“Ben is something wrong? Is there something going on I need to know about?”

He held your face in your hands and stroked your cheek ever so gently.

“Of course not…You need not worry your pretty little head with my concerns, they are mine to deal with my love.”

“If you are sure.”

“I am. Now, I must be heading home before your mother scolds me for being here so late, I will see you tomorrow though yes?”

“Yes, you will.”

As he walked away your heart broke, knowing that the packed bags in your room said something entirely different.

…

“Are my eyes deceiving me or is Y/N Y/L/N standing before me?” Will bellowed and smacked Simon’s shoulder forcing his attention your way.

Your stare broke from Benedict and a smile graced your face.

“Hello old friend,” you said as you embraced him.

Simon made his way towards you and wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on your temple.

“Come on, I’m sure you have missed the boys,” he assumes as he drags you to where the three eldest Bridgerton men are sat.

“Hello Y/N,” Anthony says nodding to you. Colin tilts his glass in your direction in acknowledgement before offering you a glass of bourbon.

“Hello Anthony, Colin,” you reply taking the glass from Colin’s hand.

Benedict on the other hand was stunned. It has been a year since you last saw each other and in such little time you seemed to have changed for the better, you looked radiant and your knuckles were not bruised and battered like they always were when you were here. You were always making use of the punching bags despite it being ‘unladylike’. That was one of the many things he loved about you. Still loved about you. He stood abruptly, stalling the conversation you had started up with the other four gentlemen.

“Miss Y/L/N.”

You looked at him, an air of uncertainty forming around you both.

“Mr Bridgerton. May I ask how you are?”

He scoffs, “I am very well and you? You look as though you are happy.”

“I am happy to be back, I have missed London very much.”

“I am sure London has missed you too.”

You fiddle with the gloves in your hands unsure as to what to say next. You go to speak but he asks something before you can,

“May we speak in private?”

“Yes, I believe we have a lot to talk about.”

You looked towards Will and he gave you a warm smile. Benedict nodded and motioned in the direction of the separate room in the back. He offered you his arm as you began to walk and you took it with little to no hesitation. You both found yourself sitting across from each other, waiting for somebody to speak.

“I understand why you left.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his statement. You glance at him noticing his fingers tapping against his knee, a habit he had when he was nervous. Disregarding the new boundaries that may have been set, you placed your hands on his and moved closer to him.

“I understand that you felt you had to, that my being secretive led to you forming your own ideas of my activities. I just want you to know that I was never with another, I never was and I haven’t been since you left and if you allow me a chance to explain I promise you everything will make sense.”

“Benedict…I had to leave because we were drifting apart. You couldn’t tell me what it was you were going through or what you were doing, and I couldn’t bring myself to stay where I wasn’t wanted.”

“But you were wanted, I wanted to tell you I did but I just couldn’t. I wanted to keep it to myself for just a little bit longer.”

“What was it?”

“I- I was going to an art exhibition...”

“An art exhibition?”

“Yes, but I wasn’t just going to see art, I was making it. I was sketching and painting and learning from Mr Granville. To improve what skills I already had.”

You felt foolish. All the times he had cancelled plans last minute, or just didn’t turn up he was there. And instead of trusting him you had jumped to the conclusion that he was with another woman, that he had grown tired of you. Your eyes welled and he was quick to hold your face in his hands the same way he did before you disappeared.

“Ben I am so sorry,” you squeaked. Your voice barely there as you tried to hold back your cries.

“I should have spoken to you or waited until you were ready to tell me. I should’ve stayed. I should’ve. Maybe if I had we wouldn’t be in this position.”

“Nonsense, I should’ve been honest with you. This is my fault I let you get away and I can only hope that you are free from any other engagement or marriage, “he reaches into his pocket as he speaks and pulls out a small box. He opens the box and shows you the ring it holds inside. You cover your mouth in shock at the realisation of what he means.

“because I have had this ring in my pocket every day for the past year in the hopes that you would come back and bring my heart too, which has undoubtedly been yours since the moment I beheld you.”

The tears in your eyes are now falling down your face, but you pay them no mind.

“I would be honoured if you would accept my proposal to be my wife, and I know this may seem sudden but I have waited not so patiently for this day to come and I simply cannot let you slip through my fingers once again.”

“Oh Ben…I couldn’t possibly say no.”

In a moment, your lips were pressed to his, thankful that the upcoming marriage would allow you to do so whenever and wherever you pleased. He was going to be yours and you were going to be his and you were going to spend the rest of your lives making up for lost time.

#bridgerton imagine #imagine #x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regencyslxt #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #bridgerton imagines

[slasherhaven]

Hii! Since it's Michael's birthday, can you write a oneshot of reader surprising him with a gift and a cake and the whole house decorated? Please, I'm in need of some Michael fluff🥺💖

It's totally fine if you don't want to, of course❤

I know it’s not Michael’s birthday anymore but I can’t write that fast 😂 But it’s only a day late! Anyway, here it is!

Surprising Michael Myers on his Birthday:

Michael had never actually told you when his birthday was but he was infamous enough that you could find out with some very quick research. You wanted to do something for him for two reasons.

One being that it was only right to celebrate the birthday of a loved one, and two being that you doubted he had celebrated his birthday since he was very young. You wondered if he even remembered the last time somebody celebrated his birthday.

It was difficult to sneak around Michael, he was always watching even when you thought he wasn’t, but you were sure that you had managed to keep everything a secret. He also rarely left the house, only really leaving of a night to find his next kill.

That’s where you guessed he was now, while you hurried around to make everything perfect. It was nothing too fancy, just some banners and balloons but you were proud of your work as you looked around the living room. On the coffee table was a cake, on top of it, written in icing, was ‘Happy Birthday Michael’. 

In all honesty...you weren’t sure if he was going to like any of it. He would probably think it was unnecessary and stupid. But you were okay with that, it was still nice to do something for him. If nothing else, he would eat the cake so you couldn’t feel too bad about it.

When Michael returned home, he couldn’t be sure whether you would be awake or not but, guessing from the lights, you were still up. He entered the house through the back door, less chance of being seen, and locked it behind him.

You weren’t stupid. You weren’t going to attempt to startle him when you were sure he was still on the adrenaline high of a kill. So, you weren’t going to turn all the lights off and jump out shouting ‘surprise!’, you wouldn’t even blame him for punching you if you did that.

Instead you just stood in the decorated living room, greeting the man with a smile as he stepped into the room. Stopping in the doorway, he looked around curiously, examining the decorations and your happy face.

He wasn’t stupid either. It wasn’t something that he had seen much or could ever remember seeing direction at himself but it was clear that you were celebrating a birthday...his birthday.

“Happy Birthday Michael!” you smiled brightly at him. It was about 1a.m now which meant that it was the early hours of his birthday.

But he just tilted his head at you curiously.

“I would’ve just done it in the morning but I wanted to surprise you” you explained, wishing that you knew what he was thinking.

“Come on, I even got you a cake. It’s your favourite” you stepped to the side, gesturing towards the cake that sat on the coffee table. “Come on” you held your hand out for him, as if that would encourage him to move into the room.

Apparently, it did. He walked further into the room, still seeming a little cautious of everything. It made your heart ache for him, was he really this unused to basic human kindness?

But as he moved closer to you, you noticed the blood on this hands and coveralls. 

“Oh...” you stopped him as he reached you. You didn’t want him to get blood on the cake or your gift. “...maybe clean up first?” you suggested, just earning another head tilt from the man. “Please?” you asked sweetly. 

With a silent sigh, Michael nodded before walking back out of the room. Blood didn’t bother him and you had definitely built up a tolerance for it, but you would still like to avoid staining anything.

It wasn’t long before Michael returned, mask and hands washed clean of any blood, the arms of his coveralls tied around his waist, and a black tee shirt covering his torso.

“I got you something as well” you told him, reaching down behind the side of the couch where you had been hiding the gift.

Michael watched carefully as you stood back up, a gift-wrapped box in your hands. He stared you down as you walked up to him, presenting him with the present.

“...” he looked between you and the box, almost like he was unsure about it.

“It’s just a gift. It’s what people do on people’s birthdays” you told him. He just nodded. He knew that.

He didn’t take the box from your hands, just reaching over and removing the lid before peering in. You watched nervously as he reached into the box and pulled out the brand new knife you got him. In your defence, what where you meant to get Michael Myers for his birthday?!

He held the weapon in his hand, examining it and seeing how it felt to handle, before looking down at you. Even with his mask on, you could make out his curious gaze.

“I wasn’t really sure what to get you and you’re always stealing knives from the kitchen so...I got you your own one, it’s better than the kitchen knives” you explained the gift, placing the box down on the coffee table.

Michael looked at the knife once more before nodding in approval, making you smile again. As he tucked the new knife away in his pocket, you noticed how he glanced around the room again, examining the decorations.

“Is it too much?...I knew that you wouldn’t want to make a big deal out of it but...I just wanted to do something nice for you. I’ll take it down a notch next time” you promised, nervously playing with your fingers.

Michael watched you curiosly, his mind racing more than usual. Normally a kill calms his mind, he comes home, he eats, and joins you in bed. That’s what he expected to happen tonight but instead he got this...

It had been so long since somebody...cared and he told him that he didn’t care about that at all. He couldn’t even remember the birthdays he had as a young child, so he didn’t miss them. He hadn’t even consciously realised that it was his birthday today until he saw you and everything you had done for him. He felt like he should...thank you or something but didn’t know how.

And now you looked like you had been scolded, like you had done something wrong. He couldn’t express this to you or even himself but this meant something to him. You meant something to him.

Stopping you before you could shuffle past him, Michael took hold of your shoulders and held you in front of him. Making you look up at him curiously.

For a moment you just stared at each other. You didn’t talk because it felt like he had something to say, though it was incredibly rare that he actually talked.

You remained still as Michael leant down, the lips of his mask pressing against your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling away. And when he pulled away, he was greeted by your smiling face, the light in you having returned at full force.

“How about some cake?” You suggested, earning a nod of approval from Michael.

You couldn’t help it, you lent up and kissed the cheek of his mask before hurrying out of the room to get an appropriate knife from the kitchen.

You were dating Michael Myers so you didn’t consider spending the early hours of the morning eating cake with your partner as all that strange at all.

#michael myers x reader #micheal myers x you #michael myers #slashers x reader #slashers #slasher #my writing

[leefi]

Starira MBTI III - Frontier

1. Seisho

2. Siegfeld

3. Frontier

4. Rinmeikan

Aruru Otsuki: ENFP

Just go and reread Karen’s entry.

FJDKSLDKL in all seriousness leaps and bounds of Ne from both of them. There’s a reason they often catch themselves saying the same things and why Karen sees so much of herself in Aruru. Not only are they both Ne doms, they’re the exact same type! Ne and Fi together hold that naturally sunny and joyful disposition they both have, and that extreme, passionate love for the people they’re close to. And her Ne may be even higher off the charts than Karen’s. From the entirety of Captain Twins, to improvising lines on stage with Misora as kids, to being the embodiment of Frontier’s free-spirit, pioneering nature - all of this is extroverted intuition, chasing at every possibility under the sun, no matter how absurd it may seem. Her STRONG tertiary Te -- which is much stronger than Karen's, by the way -- supports her dominant Ne, and this is where her gung-ho attitude comes from. “We have to write our own play?? No problem, wheel out the whiteboard! Nobody has an idea yet?? That’s fine, I’ll throw one out and get the ball rolling! Misora and I need three more people for our play? What are we waiting for, let’s go find them!!” All of this is tertiary extroverted Thinking, implementing your ideas out in the world.

Misora Kano: ISTP

She is so compelling!!! I wish we got to see more out of her!! She's already cultivated so many of her talents (and her function stack is pretty strong for such a young age too) - she'd really shine if you just gave her the spotlight! The second ISTP in this series who had her inferior Fe develop super early due to having 1) a ton of siblings and working with so many people from such a young age and 2) a gf with Fi in her dom/aux slot. I’m gonna start with her Fe again because, like Futaba’s, it’s so strong for how young she is - she is quicker to pay attention to social convention than Fi-aux Aruru, scolding her whenever she refers to older Karen by her first name, for example (don't let her see Aruru call Akira -chan). We see aux Se in how energetic and in the moment she is - she grew up acting and doing backstage work and helping her family with their troupe, and we never really see her stuck in her head or wondering about things that aren’t in the here-and-now. Her partnership with ENFJ Michiru to create a new Troupe is going to be SO SO GOOD in the future. They really are going to draw the best out of each other. As polar opposites, they have the exact same functions, just in reverse (like Karen and Junna, or Hikari and Ichie)! So Misora has Ti-Se-Ni-Fe, and Michiru has Fe-Ni-Se-Ti. It’s the perfect setup for them to complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Honestly, I really wish we saw more out of Misora - she deserves more than just being Aruru’s sidekick, and that Feeling function in her inferior slot (extroverted, no less) means that it’s difficult for her to communicate what exactly it is that she wants, both for herself and from others. Like with Mahiru, it’s intuitively hard for her to speak up and say “Hey, I feel like I’m being left behind”. Somebody needs to tap Aruru on the shoulder and communicate that to her - Fe-dom Tsukasa, maybe, or ideally, Misora herself. I think that she’s been kind of shouldered into the straight-man role not just by Aruru but everyone at Frontier because they all have such big personalities (like...she’s got Aruru and Lalafin taking up space, which is already more than enough), and she’s likely been in this position before. She’s been helping her parents run a troupe since she was a child, and now she’s (unfortunately) playing second fiddle to Aruru for the most part at Frontier. She’s been mostly stuck using her Ti and Se, and I really really hope that AA has us seeing her use more of that tertiary Ni and advocating for the goals she has for herself. She deserves to shine so much!!

One final note - I find it so interesting that both ISTPs in this series have such strong senses of faith - Misora is cast as the Faith arcana (and, unlike some of the other girls who are cast as the “opposites” of their personalities, Misora’s seems true to hers), and Futaba obviously has that reverent faith in Kaoruko (and is canonically religious???). It’s a bit antithetical to the ISTP personality type, which values its individuality above all else and tends to be a bit of a rebel. I don’t have much to add here - it’s just an interesting observation.

Shizuha Kocho: INFJ

Lalafin: The Count was such a great actor! I’m sure he would’ve been great on stage too…

Shizuha: Heh heh, maybe!

Shizuha: But still, he never went back to his original persona even after his revenge. He had to stay as the count for the rest of his life.

Shizuha: And he was able to do that because he was good at becoming other people.

Shizuha: ...Although I cannot say if that meant he was happy.

Lalafin: Even after his revenge, he still wasn’t happy...That’s one point of view to make his sadness stand out even more!

Shizuha: Right?...Yes. I think I’ll stick to how I’m doing things now.

THE!! LOVE!! OF!! MY!! LIFE!!!!!!! I CANNOT OVERSTATE ENOUGH HOW MUCH I LOVE SHIZUHA KOCHO!!!! She was my first favorite character in the game (and still is!! But frontier gets no content :’)). As I said with Maya, INFJs are old souls - wise and idealistic, but typically reserved. Auxiliary extroverted Feeling shows up in how she suppresses herself so as not to intimidate or make others feel inferior - we see the exact same thing play out with INFJ sibling Koharu. She’s mysterious but amiable, kind and awe-inspiring - just like INFJ sibling Maya. And we see that token INFJ loneliness playing out with all three, as well. What I love most about Shizuha is that she’s a person of extremes. She is so cerebral and intelligent and dignified in a way that reminds you of Maya but she’s also so!!!! Fucked in the head!!!!! Ni doms baby!!!!!!! (I am fucking crazy. But i am free).

Unhealthy INFJs can develop this obsession with making themselves martyrs, and I don’t think I need to rehash out her AA conversation with Aruru (and her entire philosophy towards acting - see above quote) to get that across. I want to dive into this more. Truly I do. Shizuha deserves 10 pages of writing. But she is one of the last I'm writing and I've clicked through 3 different AA stories and accidentally found Rui and Yukko's first so I diverted and finished writing Yukko's entry and I've already spent so much time on this oh god the doc is already 18 pages single spaced uhhhh Shizuha my loveliest love I will write your character deep-dive later I prommy <333

(Also, seeing her synergy with Aruru is soo so cute. INFJ/ENFP supremacy!! Same dynamic as MayaKaren!)

Lalafin Nonomiya: ESFP

(Se dom).

She’s so athletic and energetic and in-the-moment and improvisational and quick on her feet (Se, Se, Se)! Fi over Ti aux because she has a much more subjective view of what’s “fun” - “what do I want to do? Where do I want to go? What kind of character do I want to play???". She’s got that trademark genki energy that so many ExFPs share, particularly that childlike zeal that she and ESFP sister Ichie both have. In her own way, Lalafin embodies Frontier’s pioneering, fun-loving spirit just as much as Aruru.

Tsukasa: Lupin is usually portrayed as mysterious and polished, no? But the way you perform him is more fresh and open -- almost like the main character from a children’s book.

Lalafin: Oh! Come to think of it, the book on Lupin I read when I was younger was written for kids!

Lalafin: It was about this big and had a realistic image of Lupin right on the cover!!

I don’t really have too much to add. She’s just a perfect embodiment of that excitable, fun-loving Se and Fi dom/aux duo. Childlike and simplistic-appearing at a first glance, but there's such a fire in there - just compare her to her ESFP twin Ichie!

Tsukasa Ebisu: ENFJ

I can see that use of Se - love of fashion, sweets, dancing, going out and enjoying life - yes, she had overprotective parents and could just be making up for lost time, but I think that nice material things are something she just genuinely enjoys for herself as well. So at first I thought ESFP, but we can’t ignore that enormously caring attitude she has for others and the way she gravitates towards caretaker roles, which indicates more Fe than Fi. So ENFJ it is! She has that Fe and Se, and we see that inferior Ti in how she struggled to realize something was wrong when she was trapped in the play. I love, love, loved her leading role in the Arise All You Sons event and how she and Yachiyo interacted to bring out the best in each other - we saw Yachi using a lot of that aux Ti to support Tsukasa’s inferior Ti and dominant Fe!

Her dominant Fe is SOOOO clear and contrasts to every other girl in Arise All You Sons. She’s the first to go “hey, wait, hold on - I’m not sure what (inferior Ti) but something about this feels artificial, and I don’t think it’s actually going to help the kids”. Inferior Ti/Dominant Fe speaks before thinking too - “Why did I say that?! Why did I do x?!” - it isn’t until aux Ti Yachiyo shows up to help her that she’s able to work through her thoughts. While she can get stuck in the rut of her own mind sometimes, Tsukasa is one of the most caring, empathetic, and mature characters in the series - and she does all this without sacrificing her own autonomy and individuality, which can be difficult for an Fe-dom to do.

#i'll link later this is scheduled and i'm lazy #revue starlight #starira #frontier #otsuki aruru #kano misora #kocho shizuha #nonomiya lalafin #ebisu tsukasa #me: i don't play favorites :) #also me writing shizuha's: ...i'm so sorry queen i will give you justice later #also also me: i don't have an ISTP bias. #also also also me: *cracking knuckles over keyboard for misora's entry* let's go girls #one last thing: I've mentioned the range that ISFPs have. BUT ENFJs??? jesus christ #see Michiru's Ni is more developed than Tsukasa's but Tsukasa's Se is more developed than Michiru's

[spinel-stuff-i-guess]

Hi hello! First of all, I love your works so much!! You're so talented and I love everything from the headcanons to the short fic, from the tooth rooting fluff to the serious stuff!! I was wondering if I could request one with Spinel sort of "scolding" her 'frail' human S/O since she wont go to sleep just to stay up and work or procrastinate untill 4/5, sometimes even 6 am- Destroying her sleeping schedule because of stress and bad dreams? I got a sweet tooth for protective Spinel I'm sorry

Don’t be sorry! I’m glad that you like my stuff, it lets me know that I’m dong something right💛 also I’m sorry that this took so long!

Spinel with a sleep deprived s/o

Tonight was just another night for (y/n), another night of overworking herself and pulling all-nighters. She glanced at the clock from her desk and sighed, ‘5:56’.

“Might as well stay up.” She mumbled to herself.

(Y/n) got up from her desk and made her way to the bathroom, dressing into her night clothes. She pulled the shirt over her head and looked at herself in the mirror taking notice of the bags forming under her eyes. Lifting up a steady hand she gently traced the dark circles before shutting off the light and heading to her bedroom where Spinel could be found. Spinel began waiting there for (y/n) when she shoved her away trying to do work. She didn’t mean to do so but, Spinel said it was fine. Was it really fine?

The floorboards creaked under (y/n)’s attempts of tiptoeing causing Spinel to sit up. Her pigtails were loose and lopsided, definitely a bad case of bedhead.

“Shit, I’m sorry babe.” (Y/n) said.

Spinel sat there silently glaring at the frail girl. She hated that her doll overworked herself. She hated that she pulled all-nighters. She hated it even more when she would finally be free of work and she’d still stay up late. Spinel understood that repeated actions can turn into unbreakable habits, but that just made her feel as if her attempts to help her were being ignored or unhelpful or even forgotten. It hurts her. Especially when (y/n) had pushed her away. Spinel knew that she didn’t mean it, but, if she was too much in the way, she was afraid that (y/n) might do something much more painful than pushing her away. She didn’t want to lose her babydoll, so she stayed away. She just wanted her doll to be happy. But she knew she can’t keep playing like this for long.

Tonight, she finally had enough. Spinel didn’t want to yell at her, she didn’t want to hurt her in any way at all. She just wanted (y/n) in her arms like before. She wanted to wrap her up in the blankets and kiss her til she fell asleep. Spinel missed laying her head on her chest and falling asleep to her steady heartbeat.

“(Y/n).” Spinel said.

(Y/n) looked up at her from her side of the bed. Spinel’s head was down, pigtails hiding her eyes. Spinel never used her real name on her before.

“Dolly, I’m tired of you doing this. Stop overworking yourself,” She demanded, a pleading look in her glossy eyes.

“I-I know it isn’t easy breaking habits, but please, this isn’t good for you.” Her voice shook as tears burned at her eyes.

Seeing Spinel on the brink of tears, because of her, struck the girl like a million arrows to the heart. (Y/n) climbed onto the bed and pulled Spinel into a hug. Her arms coiled around her waist and squeezed. Spinel’s body began to shake as hot tears soaked (y/n)’s shirt

“I j-just don’t want ya h-hurtin yourself a-anymore.” Spinel mumbled, accent thick in desperation.

(Y/n) gripped at Spinel’s clothing and rubbed circles on her back trying her best to calm the gem down.

“Heh, funny, I should be the one comforting ya.” Spinel pulled away from the girls’ embrace, rubbing at her tears.

“No, no you don’t. I should be there to comfort you just the same, that’s what love is.” (Y/n) said.

She pulled Spinel’s hands away from her face and kissed her cheek. Spinel hummed and immediately leaned into her touch.

“I love ya doll,” Spinel kissed (y/n)’s cheek to her ear, down to her neck and stayed there. “I love ya sooo much.” She nipped at her neck making the girl jump back and giggle.

“Can ya tell me what ya think love is again? I need ta’ hear ya say it.” Spinel pulled her towards her chest and layed down, the girl on top.

(Y/n)’s face flushed red at her request. During one of Spinel’s panic attacks she had asked if she loved her for real, (y/n) said yes but, Spinel wanted her to explain to her why.

“When you love somebody, you want them to feel good. You want them to be happy. And you want to see them succeed in life,” (y/n) kissed Spinel’s nose before nuzzling against her cheek.

“Love really demands an in-depth understanding of their hopes, dreams, fears, their needs, and their trauma too.” She hooked her foot under the blanket and pulled it over the both of them.

“Love is giving and sharing our gifts for the purpose of nurturing them and empowering them and helping them to create their greatest joys.” (Y/n) brought Spinel close in a tender kiss, fingers gently playing and tugging at her hair.

Birds began to happily chirp outside, rays of sunlight seeping through the closed curtains. She pulled away and smiled at Spinel, the way the sunlight layed on her eyes, displaying beautiful magenta irises.

A smile grew across Spinel’s lips, feeling her face warm at her words. “You’re prefect, sweetheart, ya know that?” She squeezed her dolly gently before brushing her cheek with her thumb, gently running across her bottom lip.

“You’re perfect, (y/n). I’m so glad that you’re mine.” She pressed her lips to (y/n)’s in a burning kiss.

“Sleep with me, hm?” Spinel asked pulling away.

The girl sleepily nodded her head and nuzzled into Spinel’s neck, head resting on her shoulder. Spinel tucked a corner of the blanket behind (y/n)’s head for support before resting her warm lips against her forehead, falling asleep just like that. Content and happy.

#spinel #spinel x reader #spinel x fem!reader #su #suf

[atlantic-riona]

modern Helen and Penelope, Sherlock, and Tempest Mac? (If you don't feel like doing all of these, please just pick your favorite--I'm just intrigued by ALL of these.)

ooh you managed to pick all the older ones! I am quite fond of these still, so I’ll do all three!

putting it all under a cut because it got quite long:

modern Helen and Penelope was a modern AU (as the name suggests), but there were still gods and magic and heroes, plus a bunch of other mythologies were included as well. basically, the plot sort of revolved around Helen, who’s going to be in an arranged marriage, deciding to abscond with Paris, which kicks off a whole bunch of other things (I don’t quite remember the details anymore, but I do distinctly remember that the Irish heroes got involved somehow, and the...uhhh...well, some other heroes got involved too but I never wrote any of their names down, so 😅). but it also revolved around Odysseus and Penelope falling in love, which I’m a sucker for. in honor of that, here’s the part I wrote with Odysseus:

Her heart skips a beat as she realizes who she’s looking at, and she hastens to finish before Helen catches on. “With—what’s his name, Odysseus, I think.”

“The island king’s son?” Helen sounds disinterested, and Penelope silently thanks any gods listening. “I can’t remember—is he one of the good-looking ones? They’ve all become a blur.”

“He—” Penelope’s tongue, usually so nimble, stutters to a halt. All she has to do is say no, and her cousin will move on. But she can’t bring herself to lie. Not about him.

Helen watches with growing interest as Penelope makes a few inarticulate sounds before subsiding into a blushing silence. “You know what? Maybe I should refresh my memory. Come on, cuz.”

She strides away, moving with easy confidence as Penelope, her stomach filled with dread, follows. 

Her cousin has the ability to be seen or to be Seen. In other words, there are times like now, where the two of them pass through crowds with barely a second glance from anyone, and then there are times when Helen is the center of any room she walks into. And she can switch back and forth with ease.

Odysseus and his friend are bent over a table covered with hastily drawn maps and pretzels acting as soldiers. Someone nearby laughs, loudly, and her heart pounds in her ears. Odysseus is shorter than the other boy, but has broader shoulders. Recklessly, Penelope decides that despite the other boy’s good looks and easy smile, Odysseus has a far better smirk. Neither of them look up as the girls approach.

“So you see, the king really ought to have placed his troops there.”

“Ah, but have you considered,” says Odysseus, picking up another pretzel and eating it, “that the river was too exposed for a stand against the invaders? At the time, the forest seemed the better option.”

Helen leans over to look at the maps. “Goodness,” she says airily, as if the very sight of the battle maps are too much for her, although Penelope has played enough strategy games with her cousin to know that Helen would wipe the floor with anyone at this table, not including Penelope herself. “All those pieces look so very lonely. Surely you cannot win a war with so few soldiers?”

“Well, they represent battalions, not individual soldiers,” says Odysseus absently, and then he looks up.

From the way that he and his friend become still, it’s clear that Helen wishes to be Seen. They’re transfixed, the way one stares at a comet or tornado. Penelope might as well be the air, for all they see her.

In a fair world, Penelope might have been considered beautiful.

In that world, Helen would have to not exist.

As it is, Penelope contents herself with being considered wise beyond her years, although wisdom seems a poor consolation prize in moments like these.

“Helen,” Odysseus says finally. He clears his throat. “Aren’t you supposed—”

She reaches out and covers his hand with her own. “Oh, that. Being cooped up all day is no fun, I tell you. So I convinced Penelope to take me here with her.” Odysseus’ gaze drifts to Penelope. He has very lovely brown eyes. Helen clearly doesn’t care for the shift in his attention, for she laughs prettily and Penelope does not exist again. “Let’s keep this our little secret, shall we? And by that I mean don’t tell my father.”

Odysseus nods slowly. He looks around, up, down, and finally settles on asking, “Won’t you sit down?”

“Oh, you’re so thoughtful,” Helen says, and promptly does. The other boy does as well, which leaves only the one seat—Odysseus’. 

“You and Penelope will have to share,” Helen observes, sharp gaze trained on her cousin.

Penelope takes a deep breath. “I’ll stand, thanks.”

may actually pick this one up in the future, idk

Sherlock was a mini-play I wrote for my high school; they were doing a play (with Sherlock Holmes) that needed a “fake start,” one that was really ridiculous, so I wrote one for them that I thought might fit the bill. I have a lot of favorite ridiculous moments but here are a few:

SHERLOCK (abruptly): How’s Mary?

WATSON: //children...oh, Mary’s fine, she’s fine - so’s Henry’s two little sisters, Emma and Jane. Right terrors they are. Twin disasters, you might say. (He chuckles.)

SHERLOCK: Twins?

WATSON: How did you -

SHERLOCK: Your enjoyment in that atrocious and badly delivered pun gave up the game.

HENRY: The kids nowadays call that a dad joke.

---

HOLMES: You took your time slinking out from the woodwork again, my old enemy.

MORIARTY looks embarrassed. 

MORIARTY: I had to make tenure. My apologies for delaying our little games, Holmes.

HOLMES: Quite understandable. You cad.

MORIARTY: I deserved that one, I’m afraid. But not anymore than that, Holmes!

HOLMES: I apologize. I had to get it out of my system.

MORIARTY: Of course.

---

HOLMES: To answer your question…

He realizes that he doesn’t know her name.

HOLMES: ...er, dear, Moriarty is in fact about to offer us tea.

MORIARTY: Quite right. I put the kettle on before you woke up. Two sugars as usual, Holmes?

HOLMES: Once again you try to trick me, old enemy. You know perfectly well that I drink it black.

MORIARTY snaps his fingers.

MORIARTY: Foiled again, Holmes!

it was meant to be really bad, because Holmes (the real one for the play) comes out and demands to know what Watson (the real one for the play) is writing, at which point the actual play would start 😂😂

Tempest Mac is, I think, the only sci-fi story I’ve ever written?? it’s about this little girl in the future, in space, who’s Catholic and who meets an alien, while also solving important mysteries (like where the cookie jar went 😂😂)

that...was pretty much all the plot I had planned out, I think

but here’s what I had:

Someone had moved the cookie jar again.

Tempest Mac made a thoughtful face as she considered the scene of the crime. Then she went and fetched a tall stool, a flashlight, and a thick book detailing the customs and mannerisms of the Hazien people (which she was only a quarter of the way through, having only started at breakfast this morning). One never knew what might come in handy.

Just as she had gotten the book settled in place on the countertop, with one foot balanced neatly on the stool and the other on the book, and was peering into the highest cupboard with the flashlight, a shrill, startled voice rang out behind her. “Tempest! What on Earth do you think you’re doing?”

“Finding the cookie jar, Aunti,” Tempest replied calmly, still shining the flashlight into the cupboard. In addition, they weren’t on Earth, they were on Haz—a few hundred lightyears away—so really, Aunti should have said, ‘What on Haz do you think you’re doing?’ but she knew when to let things go. “Somebody’s moved it again.”

“You don’t need a cookie right now, you’ve just had lunch,” her aunt scolded, lifting her off the stool and onto the ground without hardly any effort. “Wait until after dinner.”

“I don’t want a cookie, I want to know who keeps moving the cookie jar,” Tempest protested, but Aunti paid her no heed and sent her out of the kitchen to water the small garden out back.

Tempest Mac was six years old, small of stature, and what some people referred to as ‘precocious.’ Tempest gently argued with these people that no, she wasn’t precocious, she simply thought thoughts in a sensible way. Nevertheless, her grave eyes, quiet way of asking commonsense questions, and aptitude at reading far above her age level made the debate moot, as far as people were concerned.

Most people would rather chalk up things and people who don’t appear to make sense at first as anomalies, rather than investigate further. But then, this is because many people see the world like a black ink stamp pattern on a clean sheet of paper—easy, simple and pretty, in an orderly, bureaucratic sort of way. If the world is ordered and lovely in its organization, then so too can lives and people be the same way. If the world is a jumbled, chaotic, sloppy finger-painting done by an overenthusiastic four year old, then it is much harder for people to convince themselves that their lives may be ordered and simplistic. Such is life.

There’s a reason “Aunti” is spelled the way it is, but for the life of me I can’t remember why

#ask #my writing #I hadn't read the Sherlock one in years and I'd forgotten all about it 😂

[exobyharu]

PCY - One Shot

Image source to follow. I just Googled it like this

“You just freaking downgraded me!”

Summary: PCY knows that he’s being a five -year-old for treating you like a guy. But what’s a man to do when the girl he likes is taken? Here’s a friendly little back and forth with PCY a few days after you break up with your boyfriend.

⏰10:01 AM

🌏A deserted mall parking lot, but only because it’s not open yet

🌞The kind of sunny that makes PCY squint.

👥YN, Park Chanyeol, Byun Baekhyun (mentioned), YBN (your ex-boyfriend) (mentioned)

Notes: It’s been forever! But I’m still alive! There’s a little mention of implied violence, but it’s all just cute, really. Sorry I take too long! 

Words: ~2,100

💙💙💙

“Or you can quit telling me how to live my life, Chanyeol,” you complain, putting your phone down because you finally spot Chanyeol getting down their company car in his glorious failure of a disguise – a white cap and facemask, worn under a hoodie with the word BALENCIAGA spelled in angry bold letters across his broad back. For an idol who has spent years in the limelight, you would think that the guy had grown wiser in his choice of outfits for public places like, this instance, a mall parking lot. Even that middle-aged woman raking leaves across the entrance gives him a second look.

Who wouldn’t?

Because there is no need to walk like that – with a slight upward tilt in his head, one hand pressing a phone to his ear and the other on his hip, strutting confidently with smooth, long strides. You make a mental note to remind him that the pavement is no catwalk. It’s almost mesmerising, watching a real-life supermodel approach you, looking fresh even when his eyes are squinting hard against the mid-morning sun.

About three meters away, his voice is distinctly Chanyeol, but just a bit huskier than usual as if he is dying to put on a show. Too bad there seems to be no one else watching but you.

“It’s real! You’re here!“ he calls out anyway, extending a clenched fist – a move that you recognise is reserved for his male friends. You stare at the fist bump that never happened, knowing well what he would say if you take his bait. Something along the lines of: For a man, your hands are small, or How’s my brother in a woman’s body? or That’s my little YN-niee! which is always followed by Yah! I really wish you were born a guy!

So you stare at his hand, not sharing the level of his excitement. Shit just happened. You have too little energy to deal with Chanyeol’s fantasies of you as his younger brother. When he notices your lack of enthusiasm, his outstretched hand goes for your head and attempts to mess your hair up instead. “You must be desperate to waste money. The mall does not open in an hour.”

Just desperate to get out of my head, really.

On a regular day, you would hate even the wind for ruining your hair. But this time, his hands are surprisingly gentle. You make an effort to ignore how it feels and snap back at him, anyway. “It’s called Retail Therapy. You just don’t understand the joy of buying yourself new clothes because you never have to.”

He proudly concurs with a smug raise of his brows. “That’s true. I never have to.” It’s that attitude of his that always earns him a slap to his arm. But his fingers are playfully combing through your hair now, and you do not exactly hate the feeling. So you just let him, hoping nobody with a camera on his person ever sees this happening.

“Meanwhile, may I comment that the whole look you went for this morning is aptly low profile,” you tell him for the sake of saying something.

But what you say makes him tug at his training pants reflexively. “These?”

When he removes his cap, pulls down his mask, and appraises his outfit, you realise that he had just overlooked your sarcasm.

“Uh-huh. It totally pleads Don’t Stalk Me, Dispatch. I'm Not Park Chanyeol, I Promise.”

He chuckles. “It’s protection,” he reasons, completely getting rid of the cap and mask.

“Protection? From what? The sun?”

This time, it is you, genuinely not picking up on the joke – or pun – either way, you know that he spends quite a lot of time with his good friend Baekhyun who gives equally horrible punch lines. You have met the guy a few times and you are sure that the baffled look you had on your face is the exact same one you’re giving Chanyeol at the moment.

He seems to enjoy it. It takes him a few seconds to explain. “It’s protection from you.”

From me?

“Excuse you, but I’m the one who needs protecting!” You argue and it makes him grin from ear to ear. You realise that you had just given him the reaction he was hoping to get.

“No, you don’t,” he insists, “Based on last night’s phone call, you’re upset over your boyfriend. And do you know what you do when you’re upset, in general?”

“What?” Frankly, you know that you do a lot of things.

“You flail your arms around and hit people!” Chanyeol exclaims, and then he stretches his arms out and flaps them, trying to imitate how you’re supposed to look. It’s ridiculous how he is making it appear worse than it actually is. “You and your little man paws! Hitting innocent people all because your boyfriend made you cry again! It’s about time–””

“Yah! For the final time, Chanyeol, I am not a man! Also, must I tell you, he’s not my boyfriend anymore!”

“Shut it! You are one of us so that makes you a – wait, you… He… What?” There’s a bit of a delay, but in a snap, his energy drops, his eyes grow wide and your first point is now obviously abandoned.

“It’s what I said,” you clarify reluctantly. “And, my main point right now, please stop treating me like a guy, already!”

Chanyeol’s not hearing any of what you just said. His eyes remain on yours, searching for any hint of a lie.

He does not find one. “You’re saying… That YBN is not?? …Anymore?”

Again, the same reaction. It’s the same words, the same tone, the same look of caution and concern – it’s always the same questions every time you tell somebody new. All the repetitive explaining is starting to become more painful than the breakup itself. You hate it more than you can express. It makes you lose it for a moment and yell at your friend with careless regard for your surroundings. “You understood the first time! Why does everyone want me to spell it out?!”

That is when you realise that he is right. Your hands have a mind of their own.

“Yah! Yah! That’s what I’m talking about!” Chanyeol whines, using his forearm to fend off a jab that you were about to give him. Just as he had predicted. “Watch out because people around here will know who you’re hitting. Do that a few more times and you’ll be exposed. My fans won’t like it!”

You roll your eyes at his sudden mood shift after confirming your breakup. There’s no way you’re missing Chanyeol’s smile that is starting to inch in. He never really liked YBN. Now that you’ve broken up with the guy, you can already hear the satisfaction dripping in his voice when he delivers his much anticipated I told you so because this time, he’s right. You grumble, exceptionally annoyed, because of how right he is.

“Anywaaaay, back to why I need protecting…  You’re right. He nearly hit me.”

And you wonder why Chanyeol’s pretty slow on the uptake this morning. He takes two seconds.

“What!?” Finally, his eyes nearly bug out of their sockets. He takes another second to shake his head from disbelief and then asks again. “He what?!”

This morning, Chanyeol’s a freaking cartoon. His aggravated expression seems out of place, given how much he has been confronting you about your now-ex-boyfriend’s alleged tendency towards violence. He saw it coming. Why is he so surprised? Your eyes roll.

“Relaaaaax. I’m more capable than I look. I started training for–”

“Stop that!” he interrupts, dismissing all humour from the situation. “He hit you?!” And he’s angry, possibly even more furious than your father had been. You certainly don’t remember doing anything that warranted any scolding. But here he is, getting all worked up while you stand your ground with hands in your pockets because you are starting to pick on your nails. Despite your nerves, you try to remain as calm as you could, and you are determined to make him realise that you’re not the enemy here.

“You’re not listening to me, Chanyeol! I said he nearly, and by nearly, I mean he missed. He punched the wall behind my face instead.”

You say it with a convincing smile, but Chanyeol still does not respond. He inhales sharply and looks up the sky, pulling his hair – what he does whenever he could not get his point across.

“But I’m kinda proud of myself, so thanks for asking twice,” you continue, still grinning at him and trying to keep it cool. You’re not about to just watch him blow up. Not now and certainly not here. An angry Chanyeol is not a fun Chanyeol. So you let the silence ensue as you watch him, whose eyes are still closed and is obviously putting in the effort, himself.  

He fails.

“Fucking hell. Who hits a woman!?” All of a sudden, he starts to furiously rub his face against his palms until his nose turns pink. “Does he know who he’s messing with? Have you seen how small he stands beside me? I could crush him with–”

“Park Chanyeol!” You yell at him this time, because it is the only way to snap him out of it. “He messed with me. Not you. And I’ll remind you that you’re my dad’s student, not my bodyguard!”

“But I am also your friend!”

That had done it. He yells even louder, causing a dog to bark in the distance. It brings him back to the present, as you notice him consciously steal a side glance at the parking entrance, making sure nobody has come to watch the show.

When he sees that nobody’s there, he grumbles something incoherent. I’m a special friend, it sounded very much like. But he shakes his head again and promptly rephrases that. “Look, I am your good friend, first of all! I can’t believe you just freaking downgraded me!”

That you did. But that’s only because you think he’s getting too involved in this. You’ve let it go.

Why couldn’t he?

“You see, this is why I didn’t get to join your family’s dinner last Friday. Also, this is why I didn’t tell you over the phone! Look at you!”

He does. He realises that his hands are now impulsively clenched into fists at his sides, and his feet, apart, and planted to the ground as if he is preparing for a fight. With you.

“Calm down a little? I had enough testosterone when I told my dad about it last night,” you explain. You’re not about to let yourself get another round of scolding. This morning is all about recovery. “I promise I’m okay and I’ll feel even better when I get to shop for things I like!”

Your false eagerness seems to exasperate him even more. “Again, that’s a waste of money. You’ll surely buy clothes you won’t wear again!”

“How am I supposed to… Give me alternatives then!” you demand. He’s got way too much opinions any way.

But Chanyeol accepts his chance and then he goes, “Hm,” full of scrutiny, as if he has something better in mind. It turns out that he actually does. And by better, he means better by his standards. “How about I teach you how to throw a proper punch?”

“You mean, boxing?”

He nods.

And you think hell no. You eye him suspiciously, peering at him from under his cap that he had just placed on your head. “If this about making me a man, I swear to–”

“Come on, just come on! I’ll make it fun!” His mood seems to shift for good this time. “We can tape his face on the punching bag and you can pretend to be hitting him!”

“Nice try, but that only hurts my hands. It’ll make no difference,” you tell him, even though a part of you considers the idea an entertaining way to get over yourself already.

“It will, I promise. I’ll fund your next shopping spree if I don’t convince you.”

The suggestion gets you thinking even more. It’s not a bad deal, is it? You bite the bullet and Chanyeol sees that he’s got the upper hand. You both smile. “Any more benefits?” you ask. And his response comes as a reflex. “That, and I’ll make sure your punches reach him through me.”

“Park Chanyeol!”

“Hahaha! I’m just kidding!” Chanyeol promises, playfully holding his fists out in front of you. You don’t quite miss that devious smirk. “Or am I?”

💙💙💙

- end - 

#chanyeol #chanyeol scenarios #park chanyeol #exo scenarios #exo #park chanyeol scenarios #exo fanfiction #kpop scenarios #chanyeol scenario

[rollzerox]

Can you do a JaeYona fanfiction prompt for me? I want a story where Yona's problem with not eating for long periods of time when she gets really stressed resurfaces? I noticed that Yona had that problem mentioned a couple times in the series, but it never really gets brought up again, and I could see Jae Ha and some of the others getting really concerned over it. I hope this isn't too sudden, but I'm surprised that there aren't more fanfictions that bring it up and I'd like if somebody wrote one

Thanks so much for the prompt anon! I’m sorry this took me so long I’m working on my backlog of prompt immediately during current events hope you like this take for my Castle AU series where Yona is queen of Kouka

“Daddy! Daddy!” tiny voices could be heard running across the hallways of the palace as King Jae-ha turned to see his twin children rushing towards him. He was currently sitting with his cane watching Hak, Ura, Hawke and Shiro practice, Lina bouncing her 6-year-old Krystal in her lap and giggling at her silly siblings. The child squealed when she’d feel her unborn sibling kick at her, considering Lina was 6 months pregnant with her next child. Sitting next to her was her second daughter, Jin-ae, who was named after the first Queen of Kouka, Hiryuu’s wife.

 “Here comes Aki and Mido, Uncle Jae-ha.” Hinto, Shin-ah’s 10-year-old son chuckled as he at saw them coming with his dragon’s eye.

 “Aka-dori? Mido-ka? What is it?” Jae-ha asked once the two children arrived. They were 5 years old, the girl with long raven hair and the boy with short ginger hair.  The girl had clear blue eyes and the boy had green.

 “Mommy won’t eat!” Aki cried, whimpering. “The cooks don’t know what to do she didn’t eat breakfast and now she says she doesn’t want lunch.”

 Hak stopped his practice run and sighed, shaking his head. “… She’s still upset over…” he glanced to Zeno who nodded.

 “We all miss former Seiryuu and Hakuryuu.” The Yellow Dragon answered. “It didn’t help they passed only a year apart. Not to mention former Ryokuryuu lately has…”

 “Oh please, I’m just fine.” Jae-ha waved him off. “I mean seriously Lina’s 22 now, I honestly thought I would have long kicked the bucket by now.”

 “Yeah and you fell down the stairs the other day again, Droopy Eyes.” Hak growled. “You gave her a heart attack.”

 “Hak come on, you have enough on your plate.” Jae-ha looked at him sadly, after all Valerie had just passed away in childbirth a year ago. “No point in me bothering you all the time to get around.”

 “But I can help you uncle!” Shiro, the current 12-year-old Hakuryuu said while extending his arm.

 “Precious child.” Jae-ha hummed, petting the boy on the head. He sure had his father’s enthusiasm.

 Tetora smiled as she hugged her son from behind. “You’re always so eager to help.”

 “Really guys I’ll tend to my wife, lead the way treasures.” Jae-ha hummed, Aki and Mido eagerly rushed back in. “But don’t run or you’ll…”

 “GAH!” Gigan, Jae-ha’s middle daughter growled as the twins nearly plowed her over when they ran past her, the 16-year-old looking rather annoyed. “Aki! Mido! Watch where you’re going!” she growled as she almost dropped the books she was holding.

 “Done with your lesson already Gigi?” Hawke called out to his older sister.

 “Yes which you skipped!” Gigan snapped at him, her eyebrow twitching at the nickname. “What kind of prince are you when all you want to do is run off and learn fighting with our Uncle Hak? Seriously you can’t solve everything with your muscles idiot.”

 “Not everyone enjoys lessons like you do Gigan.” Lina giggled.

 Jae-ha laughed, petting Gigan on the head. “My smart little treasure. You’re going to make a fine queen someday you know.”

 That made the raven-haired girl blush. “F-father really I mean I would be honored if mother were to choose me but I’m not the oldest…”

 “You really think Lina wants the throne?” Jae-ha snorted.

 “Hell no, I’m traveling with Ura after the kids are grown.” Lina rolled her eyes and took her husband’s hand. “I’m a Ryokuryuu my job is to protect our mother and eventually I’ll protect the future king and queen. Which could be you and Shiro when you get married.” She teased.

 Shiro practically choked as he turned red at that. “I-I-I… T-that’s n-not funny Lina!”

 “LINA!” Gigan’s face turned into a fireball. “I’m not you I don’t go around marrying our cousins!”

 “Please, Kija and I weren’t exactly blood brothers just dragon brothers.” Jae-ha hummed. “Otherwise Shiro & Hinto would be Lina’s brothers with their dragon connection. Besides look how happy Ura and Lina are you know I sure won’t complain…”

 “FATHER THAT’S NOT FUNNY!” Gigan shouted, looking ready to explode. “GAH! Why am I the only normal one in this crazy family?!”

 Jae-ha laughed how his daughter would always have a meltdown over things like this. The rest of his children got his carefree attitude and Gigan was more like her namesake it made me smile. “Anyway where’s your mother? I hear she’s being stubborn again.”

 “In the library.” Gigan answered after she settled down. “One of the scholars just dropped off a new scroll with her and she said she was putting it away…. She was forcing a smile so I was going to bring her a new specimen from Kai that my instructor brought.” She held up an orange colored orchid. “Give it to her father, you know new flowers for her garden always cheers her up.”

 Jae-ha nodded, smiling as he took the flower. “I will my dear. Try to not let your siblings drive you insane.”

 Gigan looked at him deadpan. “Don’t ask for the impossible, father.”

 Jae-ha snorted, then kissed her forehead and headed on for the library. His twins ran so far ahead of him he shook his head as they found their mother first, her back to them and not even noticing they entered as she was looking over a scroll.

 Tears floated down Yona’s cheeks as it was a new illustration of her and her Four Dragons surrounding her, along with many of the tales the scholars sat her down and made her recall because they wanted to make a full record of the second incarnation of King Hiryuu. Shin-ah’s funeral was only a few weeks ago and she still wasn’t over the loss of both Kija and Valerie. She sobbed to herself as she clutched the parchment close, hating the fact her family was slowly being torn apart but at the same time blessed she had so many happy years with them…

 “Mommy!” Aki and Mido were suddenly hugging her ankles, snapping her out of her trance. “Mommy! We brought you something!” the twins bounced on their toes as they pulled back.

 “Oh what is it you two? Don’t tell me you’re trying to butter me up because you set the garden on fire again.” Yona sighed, bending down to her kids to pet them on the head.

 “No mommy that was an accident we swear!” Aki whimpered.

 “Even though it happened three times.” Mido squirmed.

 Jae-ha chuckled as he walked in. “They’re just worried about you my lovely, here. A gift from Gigan.” He handed her the flower, bringing a small smile the queen’s face.

 “It’s lovely.” Yona said, joining him in standing. “But you should be resting.” She scolded her husband.

 “I’m behaving.” Jae-ha hummed, leaning on his cane for support. He tried to hide the fact he was trying to catch his breath from the walk over, lately just getting out of bed was a chore for the aging dragon.

 Yona brushed her fingers over his bangs, noting the sweat on his forehead as she chided him. “You can’t hide from me, husband. Sit down.” She pushed him into a nearby chair that the twins helped bring closer. “Or else I’ll let our terror twins tie you down again.”

 “Can we mommy?!” Aki cried, excitement dancing in her eyes.

 Jae-ha snorted. “Now you’re using the kids against me, that’s not fair love.”

 “You use them against me so it’s only fair.” Yona giggled, kissing him playfully as she pulled away. “Aki, Mido, go get something from the chefs for daddy along with his medicine from Grandma Yoon ok?”

 “Ok mommy!” Mido darted off, Aki rushing after him.

 “I’ll only eat if you do.” Jae-ha said in a sing-song voice.

 Yona made a face. “I’m not hungry.”

 The Ryokuryuu sighed, grabbing her hands. “… Love… Come on it’s not your fault. You know Shin-ah and Kija wouldn’t want you to feel guilty.”

 “But…” Yona choked, tears in her eyes as her hands trembled. “If only I wasn’t… And one day the same will happen to our own daughter and then… I was so absorbed in worrying about you I never thought that they would…”

 Jae-ha pulled her into his lap, giving her a long kiss full of love while caressing her back. “Shhhh, it’s ok love. It’s only natural, my successor was born first after all everyone even Zeno expected me to die by now. It’s a strange miracle I’ve lasted this long. Guess Ik-su wasn’t kidding when he said our child is twice blessed and I wouldn’t die as soon as I thought.” He kissed away her tears as he brushed her crimson hair. “But that doesn’t change the fact that they both loved you and wouldn’t want you upset. They lived wonderful lives here by your side and found their beautiful wives. Their children are safe here and we’ve basically broken the curse of Ryokuryuu and Seiryuu villages as their lines will continue here where they are celebrated not hated. We might even mix dragon blood with the way Gigan and Shiro are crushing on each other.”

 Yona rolled her eyes. “Stop playing match maker with our children.”

 “It worked with Lina didn’t it?” Jae-ha hummed, kissing her cheek. “… Please love, you’ve barely ate anything all week or do I have to pop another treasure inside you to make you take care of yourself?” he offered, fluttering his eyelashes at her.

 Yona turned bright red at that, squirming in his lap. “… I-I… I can’t do that, they might never meet their…” she sadly brushed his cheek.

 “Think of it as me leaving you a treasure behind my love.” Jae-ha hummed, pressing his forehead against hers. “Besides we know they won’t be lonely with as many siblings as they’ll have. Just think about it love.” He gave her another kiss. “After all I don’t seem to have the stamina I used to in my prime.”

 “What a crime.” Yona giggled slightly, smiling warmly at her husband. “… Thank you Jae-ha… You and all the dragons helped me find the greatest happiness in my life. I just…. Hate the thought of waking up without you by my side.” She choked.

 Jae-ha looked at her sadly. “… I know, I feel the same. But the kingdom and our family need you love. Besides… You know I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

 “Jae-ha….” Yona sobbed, her eyes threatening to let out another waterfall of tears until she heard the sounds of her twins rushing back into the room.

 “We got food mommy! You gotta eat too!” Mido said, holding up a tray that was bigger than he was of food as Aki was holding Jae-ha’s medicine.

 Yoon stood in the doorway as he came behind them, holding a second tray. “Yona how many times have I told you that you can’t skip meals like this?”

 Yona pursed her lips as she crawled out of her husband’s lap. “… I told you kids just to get your father’s medicine not tell on me.”

 Aki giggled. “But Grandma Yoon is your advisor and he can advise you to eat!”

 “Not like she ever takes my advice when it’s about her health lately she’s as bad as her husband.” Yoon rolled his eyes, looking over Jae-ha and handing him a powder. “Now take that or else you’re on bedrest the rest of the week.”

 “Thank you mother.” Jae-ha teased, though the boy genius was so used to it that didn’t even faze him anymore.

 “We just don’t want you to get sick mommy please?” Aki bat her eyes at Yona, looking ready to cry. “Daddy gets sick enough and you take care of him so who’s going to take care of you if you feel bad?”

 “Me probably.” Yoon mumbled under his breath.

 Yona groaned as she took a seat, her twins at her legs immediately trying to force her something to eat as she sighed and grabbed a bread roll. “Fine, I’m eating are you guys happy now?” she then had the kids put the tray down on the table full of books as she lifted them into her arms, kissing their cheeks. “You two are too precious, so worried about me and your silly daddy.”

 “Because daddy makes you cry when he gets hurt!” Mido whimpered. “You’ll make daddy cry if you get sick.”

 Jae-ha hummed. “That’s right dear, don’t you know it’s a crime to make the king cry?” he tried to tease.

 “Don’t you start.” Yona snapped. “It’s not my fault I was tired last week and you insisted on trying to carrying me to my room like a stubborn fool.”

 Yoon groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m the one the kids got when they found you two at the bottom of the stairs.”

 “So I can’t land as gracefully as I used to…” Jae-ha rubbed his cheek in embarrassment as he chuckled, then grabbed something off the tray for himself to get the bitter taste of the medicine out of his mouth.

 Yona sighed at that. “Sorry. I guess I have been worrying you guys just…”

 “Well all miss them.” Yoon gave her a hug. “… Just know that you aren’t alone, ok? And we can’t lose you too. This idiot will probably jump off a cliff to join you if you die on him.” He jabbed a thumb at Jae-ha.

 “Yoon not in front of the little ears.” Jae-ha groaned, not exactly denying it.

 “No die mommy!” Aki and Mido clung to their mother tightly. “You can’t leave us!”

 Yona wilted at that, hugging her twins tightly. “… You’re right. I’m not leaving you kids anytime soon I swear.” She kissed each of their foreheads. “And now go tell daddy he can’t leave you either so he has to stay stubborn for at least a few more years.” She smirked, letting them go as they rushed to their father.

 “Daddy! Daddy! You too!” Aki cried, clinging to his legs as Mido tugged on his robes.

 “Oh you little darlings I wouldn’t dare leave you just yet, I have to keep seeing all the trouble you get into come here!” Jae-ha smirked, lifting the kids into his lap and smothering them with kisses. “My precious little treasures.”

 Yona smiled at the sight, hoping that her precious family could stay together just a bit while longer…

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

And In This Light I Think I'm Falling

A/N: This is my first fic in a while so the style is a bit different than my usual--but I found it in my drafts and wanted to finish it while I’m still working on larger stories. Written in response to this prompt from before we conquered the ship name! 

Why does everyone assume they're together? Penelope can't stop thinking about it and feelings ensue. 

Penelope x Schneider, One Day At A Time. Also on AO3.

He catches her when she trips walking past the couch, one hand at her side and the other gripping her hip until she steadies herself. The feel of it lingers longer than she wishes it would.

The next night, after a terrible first date, it’s that moment she finds herself thinking of: Schneider's fingertips digging casually into her skin. How warm his hands are, his broad palms.

Loneliness is a terrible reason to ruin a friendship, she tells herself firmly.

Victor is just the first time.

It’s hilarious, her husband looking at that man–even if Schneider does walk in shirtless without knocking, even if he does that sort of thing a lot now–and thinking he’s her type.

After spending so many years with her, the fact that Victor can see them side by side and decide that they make sense…well, it’s just more proof that her marriage is a lost cause.

But the more it keeps happening, the less funny it is.

****

It’s the mom of Alex’s new teammate, who is behind them in the stands during the first home game and asks what Schneider does for a living while her own husband is getting snacks.

Penelope and Schneider’s corrections are so hasty they overlap into gibberish, impossible to understand, before she’s elbowing him and starting over with less panic.

It’s not like it doesn’t make sense, of course. It’s a simple mistake.

One that seems to occur every baseball season.

****

It’s the waiter at the restaurant they go to for her Mami’s birthday, when Schneider sweet talks Lydia into it in spite of Penelope’s insistence that they can just have the usual fun family party.

Really it’s no different from being at home. They’re still loud and happy, Elena and Alex sneaking glances at their phones even after she scolds them, and Lydia flirting until the chef sends dessert out on the house. Penelope can’t help basking in how warm and settled it all feels–this isn’t the future she saw herself having, but it’s a pretty good one and she’s happy in it.

Schneider goes to the bathroom and the waiter comes by to hand her the check, says he hopes the evening went well and that she and her husband will stop in on their next date night. He’s gone again before she can find the words to correct him, some way to make the truth clear without frantically overreacting and turning that into the issue instead.

Does it really matter, she wonders, when the kids and her Mami are sitting right there and don’t even notice the man’s mistake? They all know it’s not true. That’s what counts.

****

It’s at Elena’s high school graduation, because of course Schneider is there taking endless pictures and would've brought a professional film crew if she hadn’t threatened him with violence. Of course he cheers almost as loud as her Cuban family and cries the most and hands Elena a gift he wrapped himself.

Now it’s not one person, it’s most of the people, who weren't close with Elena and don’t know Victor is overseas and make the assumption that the man with the proud grin and matching glasses is the father of the girl Penelope is preparing to send into the adult world.

It’s reasonable, she thinks, and so she talks around the subject, she slides past the titles and assumptions and tries not to think too much about how it feels.

Because it makes her more melancholy than she wants to admit, the way the world expects them to be a couple, expects her to have someone at her side who loves her kids and supports her without question.

Schneider being so easily mistaken for that guy hurts. It reminds her of what she’s still trying to find.

****

It’s the way the kitchen light hits him early in the morning, catching hints of green and grey in his blue eyes when he takes off his glasses to rub at them. Waiting for his coffee and blinking, he notices her gaze.

Schneider asks if she’s okay, gratefully taking the mug after he puts his glasses back on.

As soon as he speaks it’s like a spell is broken and time moves normally again. Alex is complaining about his school clothes and Elena is arguing with her Abuelita about summer break and Schneider is the guy who hangs around too much.

But for a minute he wasn’t. For a minute he was somebody else.

Somebody she couldn’t stop looking at and wondering, what did other people keep finding there? What about the two of them seemed like such a good fit?

So without her ever really meaning to, one morning Schneider is a man Penelope sees differently.

And she likes what she sees, that’s the worst part of all.

She likes it a lot.

****

It’s the way he’s not pushy, he lets her come to him, but he’s also totally open. Inviting her in for a hug without needing to say it, always being a safe place for her to run to. His body language has its own gravitational pull.

Really, so does he.

But it’s also the way he always reaches out to her, and when Schneider does reach out, he doesn’t hesitate.

His hand is at the small of her back when they leave a room together, a friendly gesture he doesn’t even seem to notice. He grabs her shoulders to maneuver her into sitting, a move that never fails to work because it stuns her into complying.

She was in the Army, she knows fifty ways to leave him gasping for air, but Schneider will lead her around gently and firmly and wordlessly as though it doesn’t occur to him to be afraid of her reflexes.

He catches her when she trips walking past the couch, one hand at her side and the other gripping her hip until she steadies herself. The feel of it lingers longer than she wishes it would.

The next night, after a terrible first date, it’s that moment she finds herself thinking of: Schneider's fingertips digging casually into her skin. How warm his hands are, his broad palms.

Loneliness is a terrible reason to ruin a friendship, she tells herself firmly.

Even if now he insists on showing up in her dreams.

****

It happens on a stifling August day, when the kids have fled to a temperature-controlled movie theater with their allowance and she opts to do the same for free.

Pretty close, anyway, because if she’s hanging out with Schneider at his place and she hints, he’ll leave the AC on all day without complaint.

She’s there for the free cool-down and the company, and whatever plans he might have had, Schneider seems happy to see her.

He always seems happy to see her. These days, Penelope can’t tell if that’s because he’s just such a happy person or if it’s about her.

She hopes it’s her.

They put a movie on and he offers to fix lunch. For a minute she can’t breathe, she’s laughing so hard.

The man cooks such terrible food, it hadn't occurred to her to take his offer seriously--but she didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. Sometimes she forgets he has any that are easily bruised. Because the pained look on Schneider’s face is sincere, she hurries to apologize.

Shifting closer on the couch, Penelope hugs him and promises that if he makes her food, she’ll eat it. She presses her lips to both his cheeks in big, exaggerated kisses to get him to smile again.

When that works and there’s only an inch between them, Schneider beaming at her so sweetly that it makes Penelope ache, she realizes she can’t take it anymore.

She kisses him again, this time leaning in to brush his mouth with hers, as slowly and carefully as if he might break. His smile is gone.

Penelope can see questions in his eyes, but Schneider doesn’t ask them. He frames her face with his hands and kisses her back.

She has questions too, because giving in to temptation didn’t mean expecting him to respond. She’s had time to develop feelings, deny them, and finally choose to acknowledge the insanity of them and hope they would go away.

Not once in all that time did she stop and think maybe Schneider had feelings for her too.

She’s pretty sure she has confirmation now, though, with him sinking deeper into the kiss and his hands tracing up the curve of her neck. Penelope's been wearing her hair up off her shoulders to beat the heat all day, but he's freeing it to run his fingers through.

With his hands buried in her curls, Schneider tugs her closer. Before she gets the chance to tell him her hair was up for a reason, his tongue finds hers and she lets him swallow her protest.

He’s being careful--she can tell he’s holding back just like her, still trying to figure out what this is and how far they can push the line before they cross it and something really important gets damaged.

But they’re making out in his chilled apartment, the air between them getting hotter by the second, and he’s practically got her pressed back into the couch and damn it feels good. All her rational arguments can’t stand up to the feel of him, a solid and comfortable weight on top of her.

Schneider smells like a forest, but not in a gross way–like an actual forest, rich and earthy and male. She’s never going to be able to stand near him again without noticing that and remembering them here, Penelope realizes.

With his mouth moving to her neck, he asks permission before he slides one hand under her tank top, and she holds back an eyeroll. Only Schneider would still be checking in while she was straddling him and her teeth were grazing his ear.

Of course, that's what she likes about him. However much he's enjoying himself--and she's got a front row seat, he's enjoying himself a lot--he would never want anything to happen between them that she might regret later.

God, that would almost simplify things, being able to consider today some form of temporary insanity. As she tugs Schneider's t-shirt over his head, Penelope wishes she could say she was going to regret this.

But she doesn’t think she will.

#alvareider #odaat #one day at a time #penelope x schneider #schneider x penelope #alvareider fanfic #alvareider fic #odaat fic #odaat fanfic #one day at a time fic #one day at a time fanfic #my fic #anons are love

[itoshit]

No one answered my question. I glanced at my men, but none of them spoke.

I said. Where the fuck is-

Amico mio Manjiro! Don't be vulgar yeah? Come here come here.

Frowning at Dante's antics, I tried to find Kakucho, Koko, the Haitani brothers or even Akashi. But no one was there.

Dante, where is she?

Listen Manjiro, I'm gonna bring you to her, alright. But she's not..okay. the medics are dealing with her at the moment and-

What happened?

Poisoned by a dagger. She fainted.

Deadly?

I don't think so. But extremely aggressive. C'mon

Letting Dante bringing me to the room Vee was in, he opened the door.

There were the guys. And Vee, laying on the metallic table, a sick look on her face. Her eyes were closed and her body bruised. Looking at her legs, I noticed the wound on her thigh. Must be where the knife was.

What happened?

I asked a second time but louder than before.

Dante's sniper shot the man, dead instantly. I arrived right after, taking her with him and to the doctors. The others joined me before you.

Passing a hand on my face, I nodded, thanking them. I knew when to be grateful, and in that case, they saved her.

Approaching her silhouette, I brushed my fingers over her face, not daring to touch her, scared to hurt her more. It was because of me. All of that. It was true.

Is she stabilised? Turning to the doctor, I was waiting for his answer.

We don't know yet Mister Sano. But probably. She won't die.

Sighting with relief, I looked over Ran and Rindou.

Thank you both. Without you, Bonten wouldn't have known where to search. You will definitely get a salary increase.

What about me then?

Huh? Koko? Eh you know what. Might increase all of your salaries because you did well today. Bring Vee back to our building to treat her with the equipment required.

You should take a shower, Manjiro. I don't think Vee will be happy to see you with all that blood on your body.

Gazing at Dante, I quickly analysed the state I was in.

Yeah you might be right

Oh and Manjiro?

Yeah Kakucho?

Earlier..., Venus said she liked you. Thought you would want to know

Throat tightening at his words, I absently nodded again. That would make my decision more difficult.

I'm gonna go take a shower at my place quickly. Will meet you all at Bonten's building. Dante, what d'you wanna do?

Hmm. The mission is over, but do call me when the girl wakes up.

Will do, see you later

Waving at them, I left the place. I couldn't bear the sight of Vee in that state, and thinking that I was the one responsible... Sanzu quickly called me after saying that Yami was being brought to our torture room, and Ran picked Natalie up. I didn't trust anybody besides my executives, so these missions were only for them.

Eventually arriving at my penthouse, I took notice of the situation. I'll have to clean all that later. Quickly taking my shower, I observed the blood mixing with water, creating pinkish liquid. I hated myself for what Vee was going through. I wasn't good for her. She was at risk on an daily basis. Moreover, the Yamaguchi-gumi wasn't completely destroyed. Yami was probably the one in charge of this building, but their big boss was still somewhere in Japan.

I stayed a bit longer than intended, cleaning, sorting out the broken glass and wooden chairs.

Few hours have passed and my ringtone surprised me.

Kakucho?

Venus is awake, and she's asking for you

I'm coming

Heart missing a bit at his words, I hung up and rushed to my door. I wanted to see her so much.

It was almost dawn, and that's when I realised that everything happened in less than a day. The hairdresser, Natalie sucking Haru's cock, and Vee getting kidnapped.

At that moment, I only hoped Vee was alright.

-Mikey

I'm good too 🥰 I'll probably go out this afternoon! Have you eaten? Drunk enough water?🤨

out of all the things to remember this man is thinking about nat giving sanzu some head. like SIR the plot of the movie’s being lost

Blinding white greeted me when I opened my eyes and after hours of being submerged in darkness, it hurt to see.

Somebody turn off the sun, I rasped, voice hoarse from not being used in a while.

The nurse, overjoyed at my response, rushed over to me just after yanking the blinds closed. You’re awake!How do you feel?

Thirsty. Immediately a cup was thrust in front of my face, which turned out to be water. The coolness of it was very much appreciated. The entire time the nurse kept staring at me as if I were some specimen to examine, or something that would collapse and fall apart if she looked away. Uh-

My voice snapped her out of her hypnosis. Oh yes! I’ll go and get one of the executives for you right now.

I laid back in wait, thinking of everything we’d been through. How the days with Mikey were so good and then… shit. How Natalie was the mole. The torture… I held a hand over the wound on my thigh over the sheets. I didn’t even want to touch it.

My attention turned to the door when somebody walked through it. It was the exec who rescued me, but I still didn’t know his name. Scarface?

The nurse told us you were awake. How do you feel?

Like I wanna get out of here, I admitted, absolutely serious. He smiled as though I was joking though.

Understandable. Nobody likes hospitals. I went ahead and called Mikey once the nurse told me you woke up.

Just his name sent a rush through my chest, sending it in an uneven beat. Mikey. Manji. I wanted nothing more to see his face, touch him, hug him and never leave his arms. I needed so much comfort right now. I needed him. Nobody from my old life would understand, could possibly begin to comprehend what I’ve been through. But he did.

Thank you, I said after a while of being in my head. For rescuing me. I overheard the doctors saying the dagger was poisoned before I went under. If you didn’t find me it probably could have made its way to my heart and killed me. So thank you.

You’re our boss’s girl, therefore your life is among the highest priority in Bonten.

My face grew hot at that. Boss’s girl? I didn’t know how to answer that, so I did what I did best: change the subject. I never got your name.

Kakucho. He smiled. Get well soon, Venus. Mikey needs you, he said before leaving.

The words froze me to the bed. He needed me? And how could Scar—Kakucho just say something like that and then leave? Now the thought of seeing Mikey made me nervous. The Yamaguchis were no longer a problem right? So, technically, Mikey had no need to protect me anymore. I shoved down the sadness creeping up my throat.

One thing at a time, Venus, I scolded myself for getting sad. Seeing Mikey’s face would be good enough for you for now. Everything else comes later.

I kept repeating that mantra as I waited for him. When a knock came at my door my heart dropped. Come in, I said, and he stepped in. It was him. Mikey, my Mikey, but his hair color was different. Black. I immediately remembered him asking what color I would’ve liked to see on him. I couldn’t stop crying. He had done the recoloring for me, and my heart fluttered at that.

See? Black is your color, I whispered through my tears.

#🗝; citizen #🗝; mikey #🗝; chronicles of vee: vol. 1 #good morninggggg mod #did you sleep well? #eat breakfast?!! #DRINK WATER?!!!

[ifishouldvanish]

Objects In the Rear View Mirror

Part 4 of I Must Be Warmer Now

Summary: When Gold notices Lacey’s stopped listening to her Queen single, he wonders if he should be concerned. Rating: T Words: 2,481 Tags: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, A little bit of fluff, fluff is good

@barpurplewrites​ said: Could I make a request for the wonderful and amazing I Must Be Warmer Now verse? Gold gets worried about Lacey when her Queen album is put away and she starts listening to Meatloaf Bat Out of Hell II on repeat. The reason behind this change is your choice.

[Read on AO3]

Gold wipes his feet as he steps into Lacey's apartment, grocery bags in tow, and smiles to himself. The first time she'd noticed him wiping his feet, she laughed and told him not to bother because she knows she's a slob and that her place is a pigsty. He continued to do it anyway of course— but over past few months, he has to admit that the place is looking a lot cleaner. For one thing, the pile of stilettos in the entryway is no more. Well—actually, it's just relocated to her bedroom, but he's willing to consider it progress.

He hitches into the kitchenette to set the bags down and starts taking out the ingredients for the baked lemon chicken they’ll be preparing together tonight. It’s a win-win, cooking together. He loves having somebody to cook for, it gets Lacey eating something other than Coco Pops, ramen, and pizza, and it gives them both an excuse to spend more time together. Lacey also takes her role as official taste tester very seriously, much to his delight. It feels so rewarding to have his work in the kitchen appreciated.

Milah would always inhale her dinner without a word and immediately disappear out to the back patio to talk on the phone. Some would say a meal devoured in silence was the greatest compliment a cook could receive, but it certainly never felt like one. And Bae, of course, was still just a boy. He couldn’t fault him for not displaying his best manners at home— besides, his jubilant, “Yes! Chicken pot pie!” as he barrelled down the stairs was always more than enough. But Lacey— she loves to watch him work and always offers to help— be it chopping vegetables, keeping an eye on some pasta as it cooked, or just giving him a peck on the cheek and commenting on how delicious everything looked.

Gold's rummaging through the cupboards for the baking sheet he likes when he realizes Lacey hasn't come over to give him a kiss yet. Odd.

“...Lacey?” He wanders deeper into the apartment and pokes his head into the bedroom, steam rising out of the master bath. Ah. The shower is running. He steps up to the threshold and gives a light knock. “Lacey?”

“Oh, hey!” Her voice comes muffled from behind the curtain. “Shower— be out in a minute!”

“Take your time.” He says. He's pretty sure it was too quiet for her to hear, but he feels too foolish to repeat himself at all, let alone louder, so he walks back out to the den without another word.

The little skulls scattered about every surface and every corner are like familiar friends to him now. Gold smiles at the row of tiny succulents she added to the window sill last week, potted in wee little skull-shaped planters. To think of Lacey caring for something living, as low-maintenance as they may be, gives him a pleasant feeling in his chest. His eyes drift over to the record player, and he has to blink a few times to make sure he’s seeing things correctly.

He frowns at the record on the turntable. Bat Out of Hell II. A quick look at the crates on the floor below reveals the record's sleeve— a rather frightening image of… well, he's not quite sure what he's looking at, honestly. He squats down and plucks it from the crate for a closer look, and is able to make out the image of a figure riding a motorcycle? Soaring straight into a… demon? Some kind of winged beast— perched atop a skyscraper like bloody King Kong, looming over a desolate dystopian landscape consumed by red hot flames.

His curiosity getting the better of him, he flips it over to read the track listing on the back.

The title of the first song makes his heart sink— I’d Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That). The idea that Lacey might identify with such a sentiment makes him feel uneasy. What might ‘that’ be? He's all too familiar with not being chosen. All too familiar with not being worth anyone's while. What if Lacey feels the same way? Where might she draw the line and ditch him, like everyone else inevitably does?

He scolds himself. They haven't used— well, that particular word with each other yet. Love. It's too soon for that. Isn’t it? What right has he to feel so threatened? Christ, it's just the name of a song on an album she happens to be listening to, he thinks. Stop getting ahead of yourself. He shakes his head and skims through the rest of the titles.

Life Is A Lemon And I Want My Money Back. Wasted Youth. Back Into Hell.

Now, he knows perfectly well that Lacey's endured a less than stellar past, but he likes to think that he makes her life better— even if just a little. She certainly makes his better. Was something wrong? Why would she be listening to such… angry, bitter music? What happened to her uplifting Queen single?

Gold sighs and peers inside the sleeve for the lyric sheet, relieved to find it still in tact. Sneaking a furtive glance toward the bathroom, he slides it out and scans over the finely printed verses. His eyes gravitate toward one in particular, and his mouth goes dry.

And my father's eyes were blank as he hit me again and again and again.

He sucks in a breath and clenches his eyes shut. Just like that, his pulse is thumping in that old, familiar way. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his pounding heart before peeking his eyes open again.

I'll hear that ugly coarse and violent voice

And then he grabs me from behind and then he pulls me back!

“Stop!” He cries out, dropping the sleeve onto the floor where it lands with a smack , the lyric sheet slowly floating down with it. “N-no!”

“You uh… alright there, Gold?”

He stares at his feet, rubbing his sweating palms against his slacks, and flinches when he feels a hand rest on his shoulder. “I'm sorry, da!” He yelps, drawing his arms up to shield his face.

Lacey jumps back, almost losing the towel wrapped around her chest as she holds her hands up in surrender. “Sorry! I'm Sorry. That was bad—”

Gold wraps his arms tightly around himself, his eyes fixed on the turntable as his breaths grow faster, out of control.

“Gold? …Are you okay? You— you have to slow down, you gotta breathe.”

He can hear her voice, but his racing mind can't focus on it. It's flooded with impressions of his father's flat in Glasgow. The smell of the mill that would come home with him, the glimpse of blood on the walls, the sound of him yelling, the taste of dirt, and the unceasing weight of fear.

Lacey steps in front of him slowly, blocking his view of the turntable, and looks into his eyes. He's looking at her, and yet he's not— he feels like he's looking through her, like she's an apparition and not really there.

“Shh, shh… it's fine. It’s just me, baby…” She tentatively reaches a hand out for one of his, and he lets her take it. He squeezes tightly enough that he’s probably hurting her, which is the last thing he wants to do. For all the spinning his mind is doing, he can focus on that much. “It’s okay. He's not here…” She continues. “Just— Just try to count with me? Can you do that?”

He nods slightly, though his eyes are still distant and unfocused.

“Breathe in— one, two, three… And out— one, two three. In—” she takes a deep breath to demonstrate and slowly exhales. “Now four. In— one, two, three, four. And out— one, two, three, four.” She keeps increasing the count but his breathing never seems to be slow enough. It’s still slowing a little bit though, so he keeps trying, keeps listening.

She's up to ten when he finally catches his breath and he swallows. “L-Lacey… Lacey?”

“Mhmm...” She nods, giving his hand a squeeze. He slowly forces himself to ease his grip, and she gives him another encouraging smile. “That's right… It's just me, baby.”

He nods again and she pulls him close, letting him bury his face in her shoulder.

“There… you're okay.” She says, stroking his back comfortingly.

“I'm— I'm okay.” He chokes out. She's being so patient and understanding, and she's so warm and soft around him. He feels the overwhelming urge to cry, but it goes as quickly as it came, and he takes a step back.

“Why don't you uh, sit down?" She offers. "I'll get you some water maybe? Or… whiskey?”

“...Water.” He whispers, staggering backwards and onto the couch.

 *****

 “Feeling better?” Lacey asks. “You kinda looked like you saw a ghost there.”

He swills down what’s left of his water and sets the glass on the coffee table with a heavy thud. “I suppose, in a way, I did.”

She pouts her lips and rests her head on his shoulder, sliding a hand across his lap to twine their fingers. “Your father?”

He swallows hard and she sees the corner of his mouth twitch a little. “Aye.”

She rubs her thumb over the back of his hand, and presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I'm sorry.”

“S’not your fault.”

“I know… I just—” she shrugs. “It sucks, doesn't it?”

He stares ahead blankly and doesn’t say anything, so she continues.

“Used to happen to me a lot. ...Kind of why I started getting blackout drunk, after um… well, you know. They’re not as bad anymore, though.” She assures.

Gold nods, and she can see the way his jaw clenches. It’s the same way it always clenches whenever she shares another detail with him about her relationship with Gaston.

“You stopped listening to Freddie.” He says in a terse voice, and Lacey can recognize a plea to change the subject when she hears one.

She clears her throat. “Yeah. I uh— I've been in the mood for something else lately.”

“Is something wrong?” He asks, and there’s so much concern in his voice that she almost feels guilty. “You.. you love Freddie.”

“No.” She answers a little too quickly, defensively. “...And I love lots of stuff.” She says. Like you, maybe.

That's what started it all. On her days off, she would spin through a dozen records or more— but at the end of the day, her copy of The Show Must Go On was always restored to its rightful place on the turntable. The other day however, she couldn't bring herself to stop listening to love songs, lying on the floor with her eyes closed and thinking about him. God, she felt like a teenager.

Gold looks at the record sleeve on the floor and presses his lips into a thin line for a moment. “Maybe we could listen to it? Together?”

Listen to it? She just watched him get a panic attack just from looking at it. “I don't think you'd like Meat Loaf, baby.” She says. Over the past few months, she's come to find that he enjoys her blues, folk, and pop records to her power rock and heavy metal— Not that it surprises her in the slightest.

“Oh.” He sighs and he looks so genuinely disappointed. “...why not?”

Mostly, she's just a little embarrassed. Not by the music itself, but what it might reveal to him. Her feelings. They’re hard to reconcile with the past several years she spent trying not to give a shit about anything or anyone. “I dunno. It's just kind of… over the top?”

“I've found most of the things you listen to are, sweetheart.” He insists with a lopsided little grin.

Lacey chuckles at that. She still loves it when he calls her sweetheart and she loves the fact that he never belittles her for her taste, no matter how much he may not like it. “Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you. It's… something else, and a little corny at times.”

“Corny?” He hikes his browse, seeming caught by surprise.

“Well, it's… kind of a rock opera? It… tells a story.” She explains, giggling at his baffled expression. “...You'll see.”

“I'm sure I will.” He smiles and his eyes flit across her features in a way that she's pretty sure is making her blush. How does he even do that?

“...Okay.” She pats his chest gives him a quick kiss before getting up and firing up the turntable.

 *****

 Whatever he's hearing, it's certainly not what he was expecting. A galloping and uplifting piano melody layered over a squealing guitar part that sounds almost… triumphant? They fade away, making way for the opening verse, and Gold realizes it's not a song about putting love second at all. It's a declaration of love. A celebration of it.

And I would do anything for love I'd run right into hell and back I would do anything for love I'll never lie to you and that's a fact But I'll never forget the way you feel right now I would anything for love But I won't do that

The piano and guitar return with all their symphonic glory as the next verse begins and builds into a booming chorus that he can feel in his chest with each pulse of the bass drum.

Gold looks down where Lacey's head rests against his chest, and smiles to himself. Settling more comfortably in the couch, he starts idly combing his fingers through her hair.  Her nose wrinkles and she looks up at him.

“Cheesy, right?”

He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “No. It's lovely.”

They sit through song after song about bright-burning, all-consuming love, being the answer to one another's prayers, making each other feel alive. He presses a kiss to the top of Lacey's head and she shifts and tightens her arms around him.

Before long, the song with the lyrics that frightened him earlier is playing. But this time, the account of the terrifying father grabbing the protagonist from behind doesn't bother him. Malcolm's ghost is trapped in that flat in Glasgow, thousands of miles away and decades behind him. He seeks Lacey's hand while the chorus rings over and over as the song ends.

If life is just a highway, then the soul is just a car Objects in the rear view mirror may appear closer than they are

The next song isn’t much of a song at all, but rather a dramatic voiceover— It’s indeed very over the top and kind of corny. He smiles down at Lacey, who looks up at him with knowing eyes and a shameless grin.

“Let’s get dinner started, aye?”

She stretches up to peck him on the lips. “Let’s.”

#rumbelle fic #golden lace #prompt #barpurplewrites #fic: i must be warmer now