#it’s not even just that I enjoy the guaranteed attention that requests/gifts get from the recipient [tho of course it’s nice]

[skypiea]

i had such a weird journey as a young artist where when I was in my mid-late teens I was exposed to the tumblr movement thats like. Very focused on “create for yourself, not others” and I do think that’s useful to keep in mind (especially when it comes to like the amount of notes/interaction you get on art and stuff) but it kinda fucked me over. bc my favorite things I’ve created have always been things that I created specifically for others. i love to do requests and gifts and make things just for one other person or a few people it tends to make me so much happier than stuff I make for myself. And because I internalized those ideas in such a misguided way I felt so guilty and like. shallow that i preferred making art for others instead of digging into my soul and making personal art. I think I’ve finally gotten past it now I’ve embraced that making art for others makes me the happiest. Doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the stuff I create or that i dont sometimes make personal stuff but like. that division between creating for others and creating for myself is basically like nonexistent now. They are the same to me now I think and looking at it like that makes me feel much better as an artist

#kite.txt #something I’ve been thinking about #curious if anyone experienced something similar #it’s not even just that I enjoy the guaranteed attention that requests/gifts get from the recipient [tho of course it’s nice] #it just makes me so happy to create for someone. Someone i care about or someone who likes my stuff enough to want to see more #if I can use any skills I possess to make other people smile or laugh or feel happy then I am satisfied

[rollinouttahere-writes]

helloo! I just saw your Valentine's Day event and was wondering if I can request for a milk chocolate no.17 with sanji? thank you in advance and hope you're having a nice day!! 💖

... I went over 1000 words again...

I decided to make this one vanilla, I hope you like it!

Sanji x GN!Reader

1.3k words

Prompt:

I don’t deserve you, but I want you. Is that so wrong?

Sanji being doting was hardly unheard of, it was seemingly in his blood. Lately, however, it had been borderline excessive. It was normal for you to receive an extra treat or drink when Sanji was serving meals and snacks, but now you were on the receiving end of some special treatment. Rather than getting a share of what everyone else was having, he was making food specifically, and only, for you. 

Admittedly, it had taken you a while to notice the behavior, with Luffy being the one to call attention to it when he realized that you had gotten extra food. Naturally, he’d wrapped himself around Sanji while loudly demanding some, too. 

Sanji had yelled at him that he literally just ate and not every single thing that comes out of the kitchen needs to go to him, but it was a losing battle. Resulting in Sanji having to abandon the conversation you two had been having to make your bottomless pit of a captain something to eat lest he “starve to death”. The bickering had been funny, but you couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that Sanji had gone out of his way to make something just for you.

It made you feel special, though you couldn’t be sure why he suddenly started doing this. Before he began acting this way, he’d been borderline avoidant of you for a while. What had changed?

The doting had only ramped up from there. Every time the ship docked at a populated island he would come back to the ship with a gift for you, and that was excluding the instances where he’d talked you into exploring the town with him. On those occasions, he’d bought you numerous gifts if you so much as looked at something for too long. Any attempt to dissuade him would be shot down with him insisting that you deserved it and he wouldn’t be discouraged. 

On top of that, he’d been awfully touchy. If you were walking together, he’d insist that you hold his arm so that “you don’t get separated”. Whenever you were in close quarters, he’d take any opportunity to brush up against you. When he would pass behind you, he would place his hand on your lower back. Again, not abnormal in and of itself, but the frequency of his touches was noticeably higher than it usually would be.

If this was anyone else, you would easily come to the conclusion that this person was crushing on you hard. But, with Sanji, it was harder to determine that. He was a chronic flirt, at what point could his actions truly be considered unusual? Was this a serious interest he was taking in you, or was simply being extra nice to you because you were all crewmates? Without a full on confession, you felt stuck in a will-he-won’t-he limbo. What you wouldn’t give to guarantee that this would end on the ‘will he’ side.

All of this led you to tonight. Sanji had invited you to come taste test some new dishes. You aren’t sure why he insisted on doing this in the middle of the night, but who were you to question a culinary genius?

But the most likely answer was that he was praying Luffy would be asleep and wouldn’t disturb you two this time.

Dim lights are shining under the door as you make your way to the kitchen. The sound of dishes clanking against the table could be heard from the hallway. Before the door was even open, several delicious aromas flooded your senses. Oh, you were definitely going to enjoy this taste test.

You quietly slip into the kitchen and are a little surprised at what you see. You’ve been present for Sanji’s food experimentation before, and never before did it come with a beautifully set table and candles. Rather than a collection of miscellaneous dishes, there were only two plates on the table sitting opposite from each other.

Sanji was standing at the kitchen counter adding the finishing touches to a decadent looking cake, and he was so focused on icing it perfectly that he had yet to notice that you were here already.

For the most part, barring a couple of fashion atrocities, Sanji liked to dress well, but he looked especially refined right now. He’d ditched his typical three piece suit, instead settling for some black dress pants and a silk shirt that was only buttoned up half way. The rolled up sleeves accentuated his defined forearms, making them downright difficult to tear your eyes away from.

Needless to say, you were feeling painfully underdressed in your pajamas. What can you say? You thought this was about to be a glorified midnight snack session, not a candlelit dinner.

Before you could attempt to sneak out and put on literally anything else, Sanji finally saw you. He tensed, likely surprised that you got the drop on him, but quickly recovered and turned to face you properly. He smiled so warmly that it distracted you from your previous embarrassment.

“You’re here! I’m glad, I was worried you might change your mind,” he averted his eyes, and there was a noticeable red tint to his face. 

“I would never pass up on an opportunity to try some more of your food.” Doing so would be simply insane. You scratched the back of your neck as you glanced down at your pajamas again, “So, uh… Should I go change? This looks like it might be a bit more than a taste test.”

“No!” Sanji all but shouted, only to backpedal into a softer tone, “No, you don’t have to do that. I think you look breathtaking.”

You decided to internally agree to disagree on that point. Though you couldn’t help but notice how he neglected to confirm or deny that this invitation was for something more than what he initially said it was.

Sanji took the cigarette he’d been smoking and snuffed it out in an ashtray before approaching you directly. Once he was in front of you, he hesitated for only a moment before taking your hands in his. Your heart rate increases as you begin to think you know where this is going. Was this actually happening? Is he going to confess?

“I don’t deserve you, but I want you. Is that so wrong?” The words were spoken so softly that you wondered if you heard him right. He continued, “I know that I’ve said things to this affect countless times before, but I’m not saying this just for the sake of flattering you. I mean it. Even if it is wrong and selfish, I can’t go on denying the truth. I love you.”

The gray-blue eye that had been locked onto your intertwined hands drifted up to your own eyes. Many emotions hung onto his every micro-expression. Fear. Adoration. Distress. Relief. Trepidation. Excitement. A dominant emotion ebbed into all of them. Love.

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind as to whether or not he meant it. You felt like he’d all but bared his soul to you, and he probably would do just that if he could. Every word of that was true, you knew it.

This was an intensely romantic moment. Ideally, you should maintain the atmosphere by responding in kind with your own touching confession.

Unfortunately, the excitement from him admitting his feelings may have fried your brain. Instead of carefully chosen words, you launched yourself at Sanji, wrapping your arms around him and pressing an almost frantic kiss against his lips.

The force of the action made both of you lose your footing and collapse into a heap on the ground. You pull away, worried that you may have hurt him. For a moment he just stares ahead with a blank, shocked look on his face. Then it morphs into a grin and- literal hearts appear in his eyes?

And then it’s his turn to all but attack you with a kiss of his own. You’re pretty sure he’s completely forgotten about the dinner.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #valentines day event

[obitos-whore]

First love headcanons for shisui Uchiha please?

Ohhh I love this! Thank you for your request, nonnie! And sorry for the late answer. I was on a small vacation.

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Shisui is usually a very calm and thoughtful person. However, once he realises what this strange tingling feeling in his stomach and the urge to be near you means, his head becomes a chaotic mess

“Is this what being in love feels like??”

Shisui gets restless and even a little agitated whenever he can't be near you

Gets incredibly jealous when he sees someone else flirting with you and has to restrain himself from starting a fight right there and then

However, he will eventually get back at the person for trying to 'steal' you from him

Will take any opportunity to spend time with you, even if it's just training

Would spend his entire money on flowers, stuffed animals and all kinds of gifts for you if you don't stop him

He's very attentive and notices even the smallest things about you, even if it's just a new shirt or pair of sandals

Certified master of giving compliments and your biggest hype man

Shisui is the definition of a tease and will playfully flirt with you just to see you blush and hide your face in embarrassment

Secretly hopes you flirt back

Loves challenges. So, if you're a bold person with a loose mouth, I can guarantee you that Shisui will gladly enjoy some harmless bickering. He's also the one who initiates it most of the time because he loves provoking you and seeing you pout

Despite his cheeky nature, Shisui can be quite the gentleman, who would bend over backwards to please you and make sure you're comfortable and happy

Is very meticulous when it comes to planning dates due to his very high standards and need to impress you

Insists on paying every time you two go out

Shows you off to everyone and makes sure they know how amazing and beautiful and smart you are

Would commit hundreds of war crimes in order to protect you

#shisui uchiha #shisui #shisui x reader #shisui x you #shisui headcanons #uchiha shisui #naruto #naruto headcanons #naruto x reader #shisui imagines #naruto imagines #dating shisui headcanons #my writing

[tkwrites]

Private Lessons - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)

Photo from Pinterest

Title: Private Lessons

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah (OFC) 

Warnings: None? If I should add any, please let me know. 

Summary: As requested by @eyesthatroll, Quinn teaches Sarah to skate.

Word Count: 3,300

Comments: After taking a bit of a breather, I’m back with a requested fic. 2 months after you requested it, your wish is my command, Mari. I hope you enjoy it!

This was an interesting exercise for me to write something requested by someone else that wasn’t necessarily my own idea. I wrestled with it and got in my head a lot about it, but ultimately, I like the result I finally came to. 

Thanks for your patience and support. Please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see in their universe! I can’t guarantee I’ll write it, but I love the inspiration and challenge these requests bring! 

eyesthatroll asked: tory!! i absolutely adore your writing 🥹 maybe if it’s in your wheelhouse, you could write quinn teaching sarah to skate (or them going skating together) for the first time. i think that would be very adorable 😭 it’s totally fine if that’s not in the cards for the series though, don’t feel pressured! love ya! 🫶🏽

Private Lessons

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot

At the end of every season we have a family skate. It's on the 15th. I'd like to bring you if you can come. 

Sarah knew this was a bigger deal than his crafted to be casual text was letting on. If it really was casual, he would have mentioned it before he left for the three game road trip.

She also knew dating a hockey player meant she would have to face her fear and past failure eventually. Even if a team event wasn't involved, it was such a big part of Quinns life. She wouldn't be able to avoid it forever. 

Does everyone skate? 

Usually yeah. Not all of the partners do, but most. 

I've never skated before. 

Really? 

Desert flower, remember? she sent with a picture of a blooming cactus. 

He laughed. There are lots of different skill levels there. People bring their kids and stuff.

Meaning what? That I'll be the only adult with training wheels? 

No wheels ;) 

She sent a gif of someone rolling their eyes. I'd love to go with you, but I really don't want to be the only one who doesn't know what they're doing. Could I persuade you to give me some private lessons? 

I guess that depends on what you’re willing to give me. ;) 

I mean, there’s not much I wouldn’t give you. What do you want? 

A long pause passed in their conversation. When she finally read his response on her way home, her cheeks pinked so much, she had to put her phone in her bag for fear of giving herself away on the train. 

That’s how they ended up at a mostly empty training rink the Wednesday night after he got home. 

She found him waiting for her in the lobby, surrounded by a swarm of kids all jockeying for his attention. It looked like a whole little league team was getting out of practice or a game right as he arrived. They were so excited, acting as if he came in just to see them. 

Sarah waited off to the side, watching him sign autographs and give advice, and talk to each of them. She was tired and hungry, but seeing Quinn in this element gave her a new side of him to admire. He was patient and kind, and invested. She remembered him telling her how he always liked to talk to kids because he remembered how much it meant to him when his favorite players were willing to stop and talk. Seeing that quite literally come full circle was a gift she hadn’t expected to see.  

When he finally looked up and met her gaze, he flashed her a grin and mouthed, thank you. 

Smiling in return, she nodded to an empty room off to the side before settling in with her laptop to work on her publication. 

A big sigh announced his presence a while later, as Quinn slid down the wall to sit next to her on the floor. “Sorry about that,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“It’s fine. I always have stuff to work on, and seeing you with the kids is sweet.” 

“Winning me some brownie points?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Like you even need them.”

Sarah closed her laptop and turned her head so they could finally say hello properly. 

He pulled her close to deepen the kiss. Even though he'd gotten back in town after midnight the night before, they hadn’t seen each other until now. He'd debated going to the aquarium after practice, but remembered they wouldn't let him back without a pass the last time he’d tried. Besides, he didn’t want to interrupt her work so close to finals. 

The urge to climb into his lap was so strong, Sarah had to pull back from the kiss before she made a public spectacle of herself. 

“I missed you,” he said, trailing a finger from her cheekbone to her jaw. It felt like the road trip was finally over now that she was back in his arms.

“I missed you, too.” 

“I have to confess something,” Sarah blurted, nerves eating her from the inside out as he showed her how to tie her skates.

Quinn looked up from pulling her laces tight.

“I’ve been skating before.” 

One of his eyebrows cocked up, “you have, have you?” 

“It was terrible. It was on a first date with this guy when I was a freshman, and I’m pretty certain the only reason he suggested it was so he could get his hands on me.” 

Quinn wrapped his hand around her calf and joked, “I guess it’s a good thing I’ve already had my hands on you, then.” 

“You’re not mad?” she said, surprised.

“About what? That I’m not popping your ice skating cherry?” 

Laughter barked out of her mouth before she explained, “no, that I lied. I mean, I didn’t really lie. We went on ice, on skates, but no real skating was involved.”

“Now I feel like you’re lying,” his voice was teasing. 

“After half a wobbly, too touchy lap, I fell and broke my wrist.” 

The bemused smile dropped off his lips, “oh my god, Sarah, why didn’t you tell me before?” 

Her bottom jaw moved as she worried the inside of her lower lip. “I didn't know when it would come up.” she said. “I mean, if anyone can teach me to skate, you can. But that's why I wanted it to be just us first.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve broken lots of bones skating,” he said, stroking her leg. 

She smiled tightly. “I bet none of those were from you falling down.” 

“I don’t know, maybe? You’d have to ask my mom, but I fell plenty when I was learning, that’s really normal.” 

“It just feels like one of those things that I'll never live down, you know?”

“Well, you and I are the only ones that know now.” 

“Yeah and Josh Jackson and all those people at the Reno rec rink.” 

“You keep in touch with everyone who was there that night?” he joked, hoping she would see how ridiculous her worry was. 

A hand flew up to cover her face as she blushed. “I guess it just lives in my head every time I think about ice skating.” 

“I know the feeling, but it was one time seven years ago, right? And you’ve got a better teacher, now.” 

She dropped her hands so she could meet his gaze, giving him a hopeful smile. 

He changed the subject. “Are these too tight? Can you move your toes?”

“Yeah. I mean, no they're not too tight.”

He smiled, stood and held out a hand, “come on. I can't promise you won't fall, but I'll do my best.” 

As they walked through the tunnel to the rink, she said, “This is the weirdest feeling.”

“It can't be worse than wearing heels.”

“Have you ever worn heels?”

“Well, no,” he admitted. 

“Then you can't say a damn thing about it. At least in heels, the ball of your foot is on the ground. With this, it's like my feet are suddenly half an inch wide.”

“You're thinking too much.”

“What am I supposed to do, not think?”

“Don't think so much,” he said, stopping at the boards and turning around. “Okay, I'm going to get on and help you on, okay?”

She nodded. 

He bit back his smile at the determination on her face. “It's slippery, so be prepared.”

“Gee, thanks, Hughes,” she said, flatly. “I had no idea ice is slippery.”

He laughed. She’d never called him by his last name. Of course it would come out when she was nervous. 

“I'll have you the whole time. I won't let you go until you tell me to,” he promised, reaching to help her through. 

She stepped on and immediately over corrected, jerking back. 

He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him to keep them upright. “Calm down,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “I know it's a weird feeling.” 

In all actuality, he didn't know. He'd been skating so long it sometimes felt easier than walking.

 “Just hold on and let me pull you.” 

Skating backwards, he took her on a lap. Her fingers were hooked around his elbows, so he was forced to awkwardly hold the backs of her arms.

“Can you relax? I’ve got you.” 

She glanced down and felt her legs wobble. Visions of the ice rushing up to kiss her on the temple made her dizzy. 

“Look at me,” he said in a voice that couldn’t be ignored. 

Sarah met his eyes. The dim lights over the rink made them a sort of muddy green she’d never seen before. 

“If you keep looking down, you’re going to fall,” he said. “You go toward what you look at.” 

“I just want to make sure my feet are right.”

“Do you have to watch your feet when you’re walking?” 

“Well, no, but this is new.” 

“Sure, but once you get over the fact that you’re on the ice and used to your skates, it’ll start to feel more natural.”

“Yeah, I’ll just get over that.” 

He shook his head, and moved on. “Okay, start picking your feet up like you’re walking.” 

“Like I’m walking?” she repeated. “That seems really counterintuitive.” 

“It’s not that different from walking, you're just gliding instead.”

She leveled him with a deadpan, sarcastic look.

She was about to ask him how she was supposed to walk when she couldn’t lift her heel or push off with the ball of her foot, when she realized arguing his syntax wasn't going to get her anywhere. This was a case where she had to swallow her pride and ask for what she needed. 

“Can you break it down, like the physics of it, for me?” she asked. “It helps me to see all the steps before I do something.”

As he talked her through the mechanics of skating forward, she held onto his arm. She had so many questions he’d never considered, like how he used his edges to push off. 

Skating was so automatic on his part, he didn’t even have to think about it. He’d never had to break down what he was doing like this. 

Seeing how his legs worked up close and in slower motion helped her envision doing the same things herself. 

“Okay, come back here.” 

He moved in front of her again. 

“You make that look so easy,” she said, a bit of a whine in her voice. 

“Sarah,” he said, swallowing the bite in his tone, “I've been doing this for twenty years. I do this for a living. I'd hope I make It look easy. I couldn't take over writing one of your papers, or come into the aquarium and start taking care of Walter.”

“Yeah,” she said, resigned. 

“I know it's frustrating that you can't pick this up right away, but no one can. You can’t read your way into skating well.”

That touched a nerve and she glared at him. 

He let go of one of her hands so he could hold his up in surrender. “All I mean is that you just have to physically get used to it. How long did it take you to perfect your golf swing?” 

“That’s different.” 

“How is that different?” 

“I started that as a kid.”

“So? You can learn things now. You learn new things all the time.” 

“Yeah. It just feels so daunting. I really don’t want to look like an idiot in front of all your teammates.”

“No one will care. They’re just excited to meet you. We can come back every night I’m in town if you want. Or you can just not skate.” 

That caused distress to fly over her face. “No. I can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” He glanced behind him out of habit, even though there was no one else on the ice. It was a clean sheet too, freshly zambonied after the pee-wee hockey game that ended right before they arrived. Perfect learning conditions. 

Sarah recentered herself by pulling a breath down her spine, “this is such a big part of your life. I want to be able to participate.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, a half smile lifting the right side of his mouth. 

“Yeah, and like you said, I have a better teacher now.” 

“Tell me about your day,” he said.  

“Okay,” she answered, dubious of his intentions. 

“It’ll help you to stop thinking about what your body’s doing. I think you’ll find it will sort itself out if you let it.” 

He could tell she didn’t really believe him, but went ahead anyway, telling him about the little boy at the aquarium that afternoon who had insisted he’d caught an octopus as big as Walter and thrown it back the last time he and his mom had gone fishing. 

“I mean, maybe he did,” she said, shrugging. “But his teacher gave me this look like, ‘don’t believe a single word he says’. I felt bad, She just looked so tired of him.” 

Quinn laughed and decided not to point out that she was skating perfectly naturally now that she was out of her head about it. “What happened in class?” 

“Well, even if I get a C on my comparative physiology final, I’ll still pass the class.” 

“That’s huge, Sarah,” he said. 

“Yeah, it's such a relief, but then, Paul dropped that he's adding a test on top of our publication. Thankfully it’s not a huge part of my grade, but still, more on the pile. He’s calling it a review, but that just means it’ll cover everything we’ve studied this term.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair for him to add that at the last second.” 

“Well, he can do what he wants, so,” she shrugged. “He said he thinks we need it. I think he's just being a controlling jackass.” 

“Can't you report him or something?”

“For what?”

“For changing the syllabus so late.”

“Well, he's the head of the program, so I can't complain to him, plus if I went to the dean, I'm pretty certain she'd tell me ‘this is graduate school, and you should grow up.’” 

Quinn winced. 

“Yeah. He's just a dick because he can be. He’s the lord over this little kingdom and he wants us all to know it.” 

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, we can be done talking about him.”

“You can keep complaining if you want.”

“No, it's okay. It just makes me more mad, which makes me not want to study, which only shoots me in the foot.” 

“Okay,” Quinn said, “I think you’re ready for me to be next to you.”

“What?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been skating fine for the last five minutes.” 

She looked down as if to confirm, “I have?” 

“It’s not like you were standing still.” 

“But you’ve been pulling me.” 

“I was, but I’ve mostly just been holding your hand, keeping distance. You've been moving yourself forward.”

“Really?” Shaking her head, Sarah laughed a little to herself, “you really are a better teacher.”

He gave her a wink and spun to stand next to her. 

“Keep talking,” he encouraged. 

“About what?” 

She didn’t know what to look at now. There were empty stands, and scratched glass, and the whole smooth sheet of ice, lines etching a curving lacey pattern around the perimeter. 

“Whatever you want.”

“I don't -” glancing down, she remembered his advice and jerked up. The sudden movement caused her to promptly fall on her rear with a frustrated grunt.

Her hands fell to her sides in a gesture that said, why is this so hard for me? 

“You're doing great.”

“I just fell down.”

“So? I fall all the time. You just need to learn to get back up.”

He did fall, and she was always so impressed with his ability to just pop back up and continue playing as if nothing happened. 

He coached her back onto her feet, and they continued around the rink as he told her about the road trip he’d just come home from. Only five days away, but the comeback overtime loss and two wins made it a huge confidence builder. 

He admitted that though some of the strain was lessened for the next month with their guaranteed spot in the finals, he still felt so much pressure to perform. 

“There was this moment on Friday, though, where we were just gelling, you know, and it felt like ‘we deserve this now.’” 

“Of course you deserve it. You work your ass off for that team, Quinn.” 

Throwing her a thankful smile, he said, “I mean we all do it together.”

“And you’re a big reason everyone is buying in.” 

“Look at you, learning hockey talk.” 

“That is something I can read my way into.” she joked. “Plus your mom explained a bunch of the idioms to me.” 

He laughed. 

She fell twice more, but got up each time. The last time, she even managed to do it without his help. 

“You’re doing great,” he praised, moving in front of her again, “you’ll be a natural in no time.” 

Pulling herself to him with their clasped hands she winked, “it's because I have the best teacher.” 

She was close enough now that he would just have to lean in to kiss her. He did, because he could. They were apart so much, it only made sense to take advantage when they were together. 

Whenever people kissed on ice rinks in movies, Sarah was always struck with what a dumb idea it was. It seemed incredibly stupid to not pay attention to what you were doing on such a volatile surface. 

In reality, when Quinn kissed her, she melted. It felt so romantic. Cold, but cozy with his warm body pressed against hers, and the confidence in knowing he wouldn’t let her fall. The only sound was the pleasant scrape of their skates on the ice. 

Suddenly, everything she’d stopped herself from saying over the past few weeks came bubbling up into her mouth. 

Just the night before, she’d felt on the cusp of saying something other than “I miss you,” at the end of their goodnight phone call. She had bit it back, not wanting that first time to happen over the phone. She felt like the moment had to be perfect. 

Fuck that, she thought, now. She didn’t want to hold it in anymore. Plus, wasn’t this moment perfect enough? 

Pulling away, she waited for him to open his eyes.

After a moment or two, Quinn realized she wasn’t teasing, and met her gaze, “what’s wrong?” 

“Nothings wrong.” 

Suddenly, it felt too formal. They weren’t in the Elizabethan era where one declared their feelings in some kind of a grand speech, but she couldn’t not say it. It felt too disingenuous to keep holding it in. 

“I just…” she brushed her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck as she ran over a few possibilities in her mind rapid fire, dismissing them all for being too much. Honesty, it seemed, was proving to be the best policy. “I just really love you.”

Quinn could feel his eyes crinkling closed as his face melted into a goofy smile, one reserved only for family and people close to him.  

It felt like something broke open in his chest, finally set free. “I love you too.”

Sarah giggled and it came out a little watery. She never expected to cry when she told him, but her body always did like to cry over big emotions. 

Quinn wiped her tears away with his thumbs before tilting her face up to his. 

This kiss was softer, not as hurried. Desire giving way to something deeper – less fickle, and more settled. 

As they walked back to the locker room, Quinn realized, suddenly, that he'd left something unsaid. He tugged on her hand, and she turned. 

“I’m really proud of you,” he said. “I know you were really nervous.”

She leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you for being a very patient teacher.”

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#quinn & sarah snapshots #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fan fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl writing #nhl fic #quinn hughes fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic

[iloveau]

Hello!! I am absolutely in love with your works 😭🫶 are you able to do stalker!blade but the reader knows hes stalking and they take it to their advantage (if yk what i mean..;)) and fem reader pls!!

ANONNN thank you for the compliment lovely 💕🫣 you just awakened several of my exhausted brain cells with that request therefore I love you for this im giggling and kicking the bed rn stalker blade is so ✨🌟✨ I have a brief gist of what you mean, but I can’t guarantee if I captured what you wanted perfectly. It’s like 2am when I first saw this request but I was so motivated ok plus I was horny 🤩

𓂃⊹ BLADE, who watches your every move and yet, you somewhat enjoy it. 𓂃⊹ WARNINGS ; fem reader, I loved this request so much 🤩🤩🤩, stalker!blade, pornography mentioning, classic handsome stalker, you tease him, yandere themes, pleasuring yourself because he’s watching lol; blade gets very very jealous, MINORS DNI

BLADE, who‘s calculating and precise, tracking down your every footstep like a predator chasing its prey.

At first, you didn’t notice. He was like the shadows itself, lurking right behind your back, but when you turned around, it would vanish like a wisp. The point that you noticed that he’s watching your every move is when he made an extremely tiny slip-up on covering his tracks- when you got home, your closet door was open by a small crack. Normally you probably wouldn’t have noticed, but you did thanks to the vibrant colored shirt you received as a gift (you never wore it because it was too bright, so it’s just hanging out in the closet for a couple of months now..) which was peeking behind the closet. Its sunny yellow diverted your attention to the suspicious sight. that’s weird… you thought to yourself, you had a suspicion someone had broken into your house. The handle was also shaking back and forth slightly. That was all you needed to know that someone was definitely inside your house right now, and it wasn’t long ago since they opened the closet. But you stayed calm, because you bet the stalker would be alerted if they knew you had noticed their presence. So with a shrug you open the closet and find clothes to dress into to get to sleep. When you opened your lingerie drawer, one or two of your panties were missing, too, which further highlighted and confirmed your final suspicions. What a pervert. You thought, but you wanted to try to provoke your stalker some more, curious of how they would react or not act at all. Nonchalantly, you stretch and slowly take off your clothes one by one. A sea-green sweater falls to the floor. Then your shorts, and you make sure you take it off gradually, so the fabric drags across your skin. You were sure he was watching. And your guess was correct- he indeed was, his lustful eyes taking in the very sight through a small crack in your wall. He’s filming this, it’s so.. it’s so simply holy for him, bliss bubbles through his body as he muffles his moans with one hand, his bulge hardening every time your delicate hands drag the fabric around. By the time you finally get to sleep, he returns to his hideout and watches the unbelievably gorgeous sight he had captured, pleasuring himself with his hard, angry cock rubbing against your panties he stole.

BLADE, who can’t bear to see you with another man, even though he’s never been with you either.

The man irked him. Whoever it was who kept talking to you, picking you up from your work, it pissed him off. Sometimes he would even ditch his work as a Stellaron Hunter to track you down, and see who you were meeting. Who you smiled at. This time it was another man, he was laughing and leaning forward to listen to your lovely voice. He would be just bare moments before slicing the male into tiny bits, he restrained himself by looking at your dazzling smile that just so easily calms him down. Even your smile doesn’t have the power to ease down his simmering hatred though. He keeps a predatory eye out on both of you and watch the man next to you attempt to flirt, you laugh and jokingly flirt back. Upon seeing this, the only thing he can do to restrain himself now is to hurt his already weakened skin, practically clawing at his own arms. When the man finally bids you goodbye is when he hunts him down. The next day when you fall the man, he doesn’t pick up- so you just assumed he didn’t want to talk to you, unbeknownst about the fact that the man was sprawled carelessly inside a dumpster, cuts littering across his skin, lifeless eyes gazing up.

BLADE, who can’t withstand your teasing and succumbs.

It’s been a while since you’ve teased your stalker, but because nothing really changed, for you at least, you wanted to provoke him even more. This time with nothing on, you lean down on the mattress and spread open your glistening pussy, inserting your own fingers into them with a sweet little whimper. You thumb yourself feeling your wetness wrap itself around your digits. Each moan you escalate it, growing louder and whinier as you throw your head back to let out your celestial noises. Your legs tremble cutely, lewd squirting noises echoing through the room. That was the final straw for blade. He can no longer restrain himself- and just as you’re about to insert your fingers in to hit another orgasm, you feel cold hands firmly grasp your wet ones, the sticky substance smearing over the black gloves. Your heartbeat starts to race out of anticipation and fear as well- you could feel his hot breath that’s unsteady and ragged on your ear, and you also felt his big hands slide to your needy hole, touch rough and desperate to feel you at last. ”fuck, you pretty whore… you don’t know when to stop, do you?”

#⏤͟͟͞͞★𝘩𝘴𝘳. #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr blade smut #hsr blade #blade x reader #honkai star rail blade #star rail smut #star rail x reader #i need this man already

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Disneyland: A Jeff Adventure

Summary: Jeff might be a part-time Avenger, but how will he react to the greatest mission of them all? Helping Spiderman at the Disneyland Avengers Campus.

Word Count: 5123 Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader Warnings: None A/N: This request was sent in over 11 months ago when I first opened my requests for Jeff ideas. It's been in progress the whole time since, but on this special day it will finally see the light. I hope you enjoy!! Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!

Part of The Jeff Fictional Universe (you don’t need to read the others to understand)

In the chaos of your day-to-day lives, moments of peace and serenity were hard to come by. Family car rides don’t guarantee it either, but after consistent early starts and days spent on the road, the monotony had finally worn both Jeff and Natasha into a lull of drowsiness. 

Through the rearview mirror, you watched as Jeff yawned, the little land shark curling himself even tighter around the plush toy in his arms while his eyelids fluttered. He let out a small purr, then fell swiftly back into his slumber. To your side, Natasha was much the same; she had drawn her knees up to her chest and rested her feet on the chair. You checked the road ahead, glad for the never-ending straight emptiness, before allowing yourself a moment to watch your fiance; you admired the way the sunrise glow shone on her jaw, highlighting the face you fell in love with so many years ago. If only you weren’t driving, you’d photograph that sight to keep forever.

Your eyes flicked to the road, then back at her. 

You would always admire how soft she could look in civilian attire, when her upbringing and job demanded only her harshest. Her loose white t-shirt contrasted the muscular arms it exposed, and her plaited hair evoked memories of smiling in bed, watching her braid and unbraid it with gentle, dexterous fingers every day and night; the same fingers that were trained to fire a bullet and throw a punch. Her hands still bore the mark of her profession, littered with scars and blisters, but she had forged a path beyond that. She had chosen to be gentle and made a life defined only by herself; one that you were lucky enough to be part of.

Gently, you lay a hand on Natasha’s arm, drawing her from her thoughts as her glassy gaze out the window switched to a focus on you. A small smile graced her face when she looked over at you, and she blinked the drowsiness away.

Once you had her attention, you pointed a finger behind you, causing her to switch her attention again. Natasha’s smile grew at the sight of your land shark now laying on his back, the miniature version of himself still clutched in his arms, while his back legs stuck up high into the air. 

Your focus returned to the road, but soft rustling from the seat beside you exercised your ears for the first time in hours. A short succession of shutter clicks followed it, and you turned your head to the side again, only to see the lens pointed directly at you. The vintage camera clicks again, capturing your easy grin, which Natasha matched mischievously from behind the body. The camera had been a gift, from you to her, on your first anniversary together; a Nikon FM10 film camera. Practically worthless in this day and age, you’d worried for weeks before whether it was enough, or possibly too much for just one year… but when Natasha opened the gift and gasped, you knew you had chosen correctly. 

She’d told you the story early on in your relationship – you’d already known her past – of how she’d spent her years in Ohio saving all the money she could get her hands on, just to scrape enough for a camera. She’d settled on the FM10, the new model of the time, but parted with it just weeks later when the ruse was up, and she and Yelena were robbed of their possessions and returned to the Red Room; she’d watched her father crush the objects in his palm, destroying any evidence it might possess, as well as her only proof of life.

You’d known what to buy her as soon as you’d heard, and it was a possession she’d brought with her on every trip since. 

The shutter clicked a few more times, capturing scenes of Jeff’s cuteness and you at the wheel, before Natasha finally put the camera down and leaned back in her chair. From the corner of your eye, you saw her head still tilted towards you, watching your features just as you had done to her moments prior.

She knew you'd caught her the second a smile started to tug at your lips, but that didn't stop her. Even when you turned and asked smugly what she was looking at, she didn't stop. "Our shark," she lied.

"The best view for miles," you agreed.

"Well," she pointed, "hopefully that is a better view." You followed her guide to see the tips of a castle exposed among the geology of the land. You breathed a sigh of relief; all of that travelling and it would soon be over.

Jeff's nose began to twitch at that moment –a telltale sign that he was waking from his nap– accompanied by a vacuous yawn. "Mrrr," he sighed, then flipped himself back into sitting upright, even though the slouched, sleepy posture remained.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Natasha said with a small laugh. As if she hadn't woken only moments before. You scoffed at the statement, only to mimic her laugh when her stern gaze and poorly hidden smile turned in your direction.

Jeff purred again, drawing your attention as he brought a stubby arm up to his face and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Natasha's camera clicked again, just in time, and you couldn't blame her.

"That'll be a good one," you muttered to her. She smiled proudly, then nodded her agreement.

"Have you worked out where we're going yet?" Natasha asked Jeff a little while later. The castle and all the rides had vanished out of view again, but copious signs marked your destination even after Jeff had roused himself from sleep. Whether he noticed them or not was a different matter…

"Mrrrr." He shrugged.

"What did he say?"

"He doesn't know."

Natasha hummed. You glanced over and saw her chewing on her lower lip, furrowing her brows in the direction of the oblivious land shark. "I worry about his perception sometimes," she confessed, "it's like he doesn't even care where we're going."

You look in the mirror again, the little shark stared out of the window. His legs swung from his seat and he smiled as he watched the world go by.

"I don't think he does care."

"But we could be taking him anywhere, even back to MODOK's lab, and he wouldn't notice."

From the back, Jeff let out a low growl at the mention of his former captor. You and Natasha looked back and he smiled, before returning to his happy murmuring.

"He's aware of some things, at least,” you shrugged. “Mostly, I think he trusts us; he doesn’t have to care.” 

You feel Natasha's eyes on you and take her hand in yours, "it's not the same as how you were raised; he knows we're not going to trick him and he knows we'll come find him if anyone does." 

She squeezed your hand gently.

"He also can't read."

"What?!"

"He's only four, what do you expect of him?"

"I could read by that age."

"You were raised by the Red Room, love, that's not the same."

"Oh yeah? When did you start reading then?"

"Who remembers that? Oh, wait, Morgan! She's 4, right? Can she read?"

"She's 5,"

"What? I could have sworn she was just 4."

"She was babe, until her birthday party a few weeks ago. The one we went to together?"

"Oh, when Jeff almost stole the cake."

"That's it," she smiled, "she also read out her own cards then…"

You chewed your lip, looking for any excuse. Was Jeff really behind? "She's a Stark," you said at last, "they learn at an accelerated speed. It was a poor comparison actually."

Natasha scoffed and looked out of her window to hide the smile you brought to her face, but you knew it was there. For as much as she worried about the land shark, your words and the care you showed for him could remind her that Jeff would be okay. Whether he learnt to read or not, he had the two of you to support him, and that was all he needed.

Eventually, and all by himself, Jeff realised where you were headed, and let out an excited squeal to ensure you all knew too, as if you weren't the ones taking him to the destination.

It provided a laugh for you and Natasha and, when she turned in her seat and you checked the rearview mirror, neither of you could restrain a heartfelt smile at the view. Jeff's tail wagged furiously and he had propped his hands up on the base of the window, resting his head on them gently to gaze at the unmistakable turrets of Sleeping Beauty's castle.

"That's right Jeff," you confirmed, "we're going to Disneyland."

Entering the theme park, things soon strayed from the plan. Jeff was not a fan of queues, and turnstiles were too tall for him anyway, so the second you tried to enter one of those dreaded queues, Jeff was having none of it.

The land shark sprinted remarkably fast for such a short-legged creature. He bounded towards the entrance with an eager grin and a round, aerodynamic body… while you scowled and sprinted behind him. You dove towards the land shark and caught him just before he slipped through the turnstiles. 

With one arm wrapped securely around Jeff, you fumbled to find and replace your cap, then smiled awkwardly at the employee working the gates. Jeff adjusted his fake moustache and glasses (that he'd insisted upon 'for the disguise'), then flopped over your shoulder, complaining that if he had to wait in the queue, you could at least carry him.

Natasha took him off your hands when you returned, doing her best not to laugh at your dishevelled state, while you got the tickets ready on your phone. Her free hand dusted off your clothes then took your hand in hers.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

"Emotionally or physically?"

"Both."

"Physically; I definitely scraped my elbow. Is it bleeding? I can't see, but do you know how hard that floor is? You would think that they'd design it for adults to chase their children around." You sighed. "Emotionally, I'm not sure I'm ready for the 'Avenger faceplants at Disneyland' articles."

"Then consider them gone," Natasha promised, confirming it with a kiss on your forehead.

"With so many people around?"

"You've known me for years, Y/N. I've been called the best agent anyone had ever seen in several organisations. And you don't think I can stop some photos from leaking? That's child's play, love."

She smirked through the speech. You loved when her cockiness came out; a fact she was well aware of and perfectly happy to exploit.

"And your elbow is bleeding, I have some band-aids, front pocket of my rucksack."

With unspoken understanding, Natasha turned to the side to give you access to her bag. Jeff took the opportunity to give you an apologetic lick, and you smiled at the gesture.

"It's alright, Jeff, you're forgiven," you said, with an accompanying pat to the land shark's head. He purred at the touch.

"Here, let me," Natasha said, taking the band-aid from you when she saw you struggling to apply it. She handed Jeff over, then knelt down to the level of your injured arm and smoothed the bandage over the wound, rubbing it gently. "Better?"

"Certainly easier."

By then, the queue had finally passed, so she took the shark off of your arm (still not trusting him to run free) and let you scan them through.

Finally, after a cross-country road trip and Jeff-induced hurdles, you had made it. 

Thinking the difficulties were behind you, Natasha set Jeff back down onto the ground and threaded her fingers with yours, smiling that the mission-level planning of this Disneyland trip seemed to be paying off.

This, however, was a mistake.

Despite having no knowledge of the park's layout, nor of yours and Natasha's plans, Jeff confidently took the lead. He ambled ahead without even a brief glance back to check you were following.

Jeff's route was, of course, the exact opposite direction to the route you had planned ahead of time, but the land shark would not be dissuaded and, after a regretful look shared with your fiancée, the two of you took off after him.

He broke into a faster run the more excited he got, causing a slight issue given the whole park was designed to foster joy and exhilaration. Luckily for you, Jeff was also an easily distracted little creature – meaning his full-pace sprint stopped the second he caught sight of the mascot not too far from the entrance: his favourite character, Dug the dog.

Jeff turned slowly to look back at you and Natasha, as if checking this figure was real. Through panted breaths and clutching the stitch on your side, you gave him a thumbs up, setting him off like a shot again. Natasha was fairing only slightly better, breathing heavily beside you, but she still gave you a sympathetic pat on the back before managing to walk after the shark.

The mascot of Dug the dog, thankfully without a queue, soon saw the land shark storming towards him and knelt to the ground, avoiding a total knockout when Jeff leapt into his arms. Whoever was in the costume seemed to be just as big a fan of Jeff as Jeff was of them, rewarding him with plenty of hugs and scratches as he pranced around on their lap. His tail wagged so fast that you feared a tornado would form in his wake, but the mascot didn't mind – they just fell to the floor and spun with Jeff.

Natasha did eventually step in to calm the shark, and thank Dug, but it took another five minutes and several photos of Jeff with his hero before he could finally be convinced to part.

Even then, he had to be lifted back onto Natasha's shoulder, and slumped at the loss of his friend. 

"Wait 'til he sees the actual plan," you whisper. Natasha laughed, then readjusted Jeff; he lay over it, already looking tired, but mustered just enough energy to wave at his new-found friend for as long as he was in sight.

You held the paper map up as you walked, Natasha and yourself talking through the different options to get you back towards your initial destination. The plan reformed on the fly, and soon enough, you were there; the bright blue lights and familiar logo rewarding your shortcuts and crowd dodging.

"Mrrr?" Jeff cooed, finally giving up on his search for Dug and turning himself on Nat's shoulder to face forwards. He squirmed and stretched his legs until the Widow put him on the ground, at which point he took a few careful steps forward, then looked back at you. 

"Mrrrr." Jeff concluded after copious sniffing, then hurried to stop you and Natasha in your tracks. He ran in front of your legs and held two hands up in a 'stop' sign.

The land shark huffed indignantly when Natasha dared to laugh, before turning and launching into a rushed speech that you alone could understand.

"Jeff…Jeff slow down." You crouched down to be almost eye level with the shark, his nervous ramblings giving way to heavy breathing when you put a hand on where his shoulder would be, if he actually had them.

"It's not a trap, okay?" Natasha softened as she realised Jeff's worry. "We know it's not the real Avengers Campus, we're still on the other side of the country. This is just a theme park with lots of fun rides and characters, so everyone else gets the Avengers experience without having to live there like we do."

"Mrrrr?"

"Yeah, it helps the public feel a bit more involved, then they like us more!"

"Mrrrr!?"

"I'm not sure there's a Jeff ride just yet, buddy, but maybe someday."

"Mrrrr."

"You're right, you're right. It would."

"What's he saying?" Natasha asked when you stood up, Jeff finally deciding to walk, not run, between you and Natasha while he addressed the environment.

"He thinks there should be a Jeff ride here because then everyone would love the Avengers."

"He's not wrong."

"Your dad wasn't a fan."

"He's come around. I think seeing Jeff in the suit is all it took."

"I told you he needed to make a good first impression!" you laughed, leaning down to get a high five from Jeff.

"Well when you packed a Jeff sized suit, I didn't know you were planning to propose."

"Greatest spy in the world, huh?" you smirk, "and she didn't even know I was going to propose. We fooled her, Jeff!"

Jeff wagged his tail and ran in a circle around you – something you had picked up to mean excitement – before settling in front of you and staring up with large watery eyes.

"Mrrr?"

"No, there's still no Jeff ride. It takes a bit longer than 30 seconds for them to build one."

Jeff whined again, huffing and stamping his foot this time.

"We'll talk to Disney, right Nat? Then we can come here again once a Jeff ride is built. You can even help with the planning, Jeff, would you like that?"

"Mrrrrr"

"Good boy." Natasha met your eyes with the hint of a smile, silently communicating how amusing she found your conversations with Jeff. Thanks to you replying in a way that revealed what Jeff had said, but paraphrased, the Black Widow got to watch your interactions like a show, while you were left to deal with Jeff's tantrums.

"Why don't we go on a ride," Natasha said suddenly, "I heard there's a Spider-Man adventure, how about we help your old friend out, hm Jeff?"

The land shark perked up in an instant, Natasha's words carrying his complaints away like the wind. The 'Jeff ride extravaganza' (a work in progress title, according to the shark) was all but forgotten as Jeff hurried around the campus in search of his friend and favourite hero, Spiderman. You'd never dared ask Jeff where you and Natasha ranked on that list.

"MRRRRR!!" 

Jeff tugged at the edge of your shoe – presumably he'd been aiming for your trouser leg, but his gaze was so transfixed on the sight before him that he didn't notice. You looked down anyway, tapping Natasha's shoulder so that she'd follow your line of sight and see the land shark's tight grip on your shoe too. Her camera emerged again to snap a picture before the both of you followed Jeff's gaze.

Once you saw the red and blue figure atop the fake Compound, you understood why Jeff had been possessed by the spirit of a squirrel-stalking dog.

"Hey Sharon. Let's do an altitude test for the new improvements," you heard the mascot say. 'Sharon?' Natasha mouthed; you shrugged. Jeff still watched with rapt attention, ignoring yours and Natasha's silent conversation behind him about who authorised this.

'Fury?' you signed, 'did Tony and Peter show him this?'

Natasha shook her head. 'Probably just Hill.'

"Mrrrr," Jeff interrupted sadly, then stretched his front legs until he was laying down and resting his head on his hands.

"What's wrong, Jeff?"

He sighed again, and weakly tipped his head up to the roof of the complex. At some point in your conversation with Natasha, Spiderman had disappeared, and only Jeff had been watching to see where.

But then the music swelled – you just wanted to know who composed a whole theme song for Peter – and Spiderman's voice blasted from the speakers again.

"Clear the runway, Spiderman is clear for takeoff!"

Jeff screamed, causing the eyes of half the audience to miss the Spiderman animatronic's big stunt because they turned to face your family instead.

"Is that Jeff?" someone whispered.

Jeff composed himself for the group, and readjusted his disguise glasses.

"No, Jeff doesn't wear glasses."

"Maybe it's a new look."

Jeff cowered, his tiny form bundling itself between your legs. He hadn't expected the attention, or prepared himself for it, but he trusted you, and looked up with pleading eyes in a beg for help. 

You froze on the spot. Through the Avengers, you'd been subjected to constant public attention and media scrutiny, and been enrolled in almost monthly classes for dealing with it. You thought you had it all handled, but when the questioning eyes were on your Jeff, suddenly you lost all functionality.

Natasha noticed straightaway and, unlike you, stepped into action. She scooped Jeff out from your legs into her arms with a "let's go, son," and even placed her coveted disguise cap on his dorsal fin for him to take comfort in the anonymity.

You hurried behind her and put your own cap on her head. She smiled, and the two of you hurried into the closest building, skipping the queues due to the pre-planned fast-pass tickets you'd bought just for this ride. Mission planning was always your speciality, and this was no different; forward thinking made for an easier trip.

The attendant let you through without a hassle, and guided the three of you into your own section of the pod. Natasha went in first, set Jeff down on the bench beside her, then you followed. 

While you waited for everyone to load onto the ride, a small nudge to your arms had both you and Natasha looking at the land shark between you. He hung his head, not looking at either of you after the nudge, then clenched his hand into a fist and moved it in a clockwise circle over his chest – the sign for 'sorry'.

"You don't have to apologise, Jeff-"

"-I should be saying sorry more." 

Natasha flicked you sharply on your shoulder, then played it off as wrapping an arm around Jeff. "Neither of you should be apologising," she said firmly.

"You should be apologising for just now," you muttered, "that hurt."

"Alright, sorry love."

"Apology accepted."

"The point is," Natasha continued, now that you were done with interruptions, "neither of you did anything wrong. Jeff, you were just scared for Peter, it was a high jump-"

"Mrrrr. Mrrrr." Jeff interrupted this time and Natasha looked up at you for a translation.

"Not Peter. Spiderman."

"Jeff, they're-"

Thankfully, the land shark still had his head bowed, so he didn't see you urgently signing for Natasha to cut herself off and mouthing that you'd talk about it later. For Jeff, his friends Peter Parker and Spiderman were two different people, and no amount of explanation from you had ever managed to convince him otherwise, even when you'd had Peter put the mask on right in front of Jeff, his lack of object permanence prevented him from connecting the dots.

Maybe Jeff really was behind his peers…

Regardless, Natasha dropped the topic and corrected herself. "Scared for Spiderman then – he's your friend, of course you'd be worried about his stunts, and your reaction was natural. You remember when I came home with my arm all wrapped up?"

Jeff nodded. Natasha's eyes met yours when she continued her speech, conveying all the worry and fear she'd felt to you while keeping an even voice for Jeff. "I was worried about Y/N because they were doing some dangerous things too, like Spiderman, and I reacted without thinking-"

"Aaarms up, ladies and gentlemen…and… shark?" the attendant interrupted. Jeff stretched his arms as high up as they could go while the bar was lowered onto your laps. Then you were left alone again.

"I did get hurt but it was for the best because Y/N didn't," Natasha finished. She lay her hand in the centre of the bar and you took it, squeezing it in an attempt to comfort her. Jeff did a better job though, resting his head down to lay on your interlocked hands. 

"Oh, and Y/N?" The tone of her voice changed in an instant, and you knew what was coming. "I'm gonna destroy you in this game, so you better not freeze."

"Jeff gets a whole motivational speech and I get that, how nice of you my love," you said with a playful roll of your eyes. She grinned at you, knowing this was what you needed more than the speech she gave Jeff. Then the two of you stuck your arms out in the classic Spiderman pose, Jeff following your leads, and your Webslingers ride began.

The pod shuttled you from room to room, each filled to the brim with tiny arachnid robots, threatening to overwhelm the room's Spiderman projection.

Jeff has the time of his life; it was the superhero experience he always wanted to have, helping to protect his favourite hero. You wondered if this would boost you and Natasha higher up his list; he might still complain that you won't let him accompany you on real missions, but you let him do this, so that should count for something, right?

With the way he cuddled into your side at the end, you hoped so. Or it could have just been boastful, since he'd beaten you by just a few points, his energetic wrist flicks giving him the edge to beat you. 

Natasha beat you both, and she wasn't humble about it, nor was she afraid to rub it in the face of her 4 year old, land shark son.

"It's not fair," you complained to Jeff, "she has wrist weapons on missions too, her whole job is practice for this."

Jeff mrrr'd his agreement.

"Don't be a sore loser; this was all skill," Natasha boasted, pulling Jeff to sit on her shoulders. He giggled when you stuck a tongue out at your fiancée. She blew a kiss back, never wiping the smirk from her face.

You pulled the map out of your pocket the instant your group stepped back into the light. Something on there would let you get your own back on Natasha – you were sure of it – but, as it turned out, you needed to look no further than the area you were already in.

“Um, miss… are you the Black Widow?” a small voice asked.

Natasha beamed, “well, yes, I-” Her smile dropped when she turned to see the young girl who had been talking, with red hair braided just like Natasha’s. More specifically, she trailed off when she saw the child was still metres away with her back turned…because she wasn’t talking to Natasha.

“Oh honey, I sure am! Would you like a picture?” The mascot replied in an exaggerated American lilt, excitement bleeding from every syllable. She showed the young girl how to pose, and together they crouched to the ground with one leg bent and the other straight, then held out an arm to imitate shooting her Widow’s bites. 

The scarlet that coloured the (real) Black Widow’s face could be compared only to the hue of Wanda’s powers. If you hadn’t applied her sunscreen yourself that morning, you’d have pulled her out of the sun and told her to put more on. Then again, you couldn’t risk it with a redhead… you’d apply more later, but there was one more pressing job that you needed to do first.

You pressed it slowly, as if that might mute the sound completely, and yet…

*click*

Your fiancée's gaze shot to you. "Don't you dare."

"Too late."

Natasha snatched the phone from your hands and left your arms hanging in the space between you and her. Jeff shuffled closer before you could chase after her, and began to hop underneath them. You quickly conceded, picking him up and cradling him in place of the phone… and then chasing Natasha. 

She hadn’t run far and, while Jeff purred happily, she groaned in irritation. 

“Anyone in the world-” Natasha pushed the phone into your chest. Jeff grabbed it eagerly, allowing a glimpse of the open messages. “Anyone in the world and you had to send it to her? She’s going to have that over me for years.” 

You peered over Jeff’s shoulder to read the messages more clearly. "I KNEW IT." was Yelena’s reply. "I TOLD HER SO. IT IS HER POSE AND EVERYONE KNOWS IT!!!" Given the sibling rivalry between the two, this was quite a significant score against your fiancée, but there was nothing she did better than revenge. When the next match came in this never-ending war, you would be supporting Natasha in a ploy against your future sister-in-law. You can never lose if you fight both sides.

Regardless of your precarious position, you’d learnt long ago that Natasha doesn’t take after her arachnid counterpart in the way she treats her partners…most of the time… so you felt brave enough to push her one step further.

“You know, the whole team would probably want to see this,” you teased, “go over and pose with her! We’ll take a photo, maybe even get it framed. Tony would put it front and centre in the common room, trust me on that.”

Jeff cooed and nodded along with your words. He still had your phone, and unfortunately, you and Natasha were too preoccupied pulling faces at each other to watch how he used it.

“Mrrrr.” Jeff laughed again. The phone was constantly buzzing in his hands, so much so that you could feel the vibrations through his body.

“Jeff,” Natasha said slowly, each syllable perfectly enunciated in a false display of serenity, “can I please see that phone for a second?”

Ever the teacher’s pet, he nodded once again and handed the phone over. Natasha’s jaw clenched as she inhaled deeply, trying to keep her cool, before turning the phone around to show it to you. 

Jeff had recorded both of you mocking each other with all the grace and maturity of 5-year-olds on the playing field, the false Widow still posing in the background. Then, taking your inadvertent advice, he’d sent it to the Avengers group chat, where the team wasted no time in making memes and mockery of the pair of you. 

“Alright,” Natasha said at last, eerily calm, “Y/N, time to get the map out. Whatever the biggest, scariest ride is… we’re putting Jeff on it.” 

Her facade broke instantly as she rushed forward and scooped Jeff from your arms. He squealed with joy as she threw him up into the air, then giggled in Natasha’s arms when she caught him. “Come on you rascal, time to show you what these rides are really about.”

She ran off, Jeff clinging to her neck, and for what felt like the hundredth time that day, you found yourself chasing after your shark. You wouldn’t change a thing.

Jeff taglist: @unexpected-character​ @wolferine (if anyone else wants to be added to this list, just give me a message)

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #jeff the land shark #jeff the landshark #marvel #fanfiction #the JFU #ikan writes

[cloudslostlibrary]

Congrats on 100 Cloud!!!

I would love snowing, Sapnap and “I’ve never really been in love, not seriously” (:

A new book has been found !

Book Title: Movie Night

Characters: CC!Sapnap, Reader, CC!Georgenotfound

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Reader gets to the movie theater later than usual because of the snow outside and ends up catching Sapnap's attention when they give him a gift.

Tw: Mention of food

Author's Note: Exciting to finally be able to write requests for this event!!

Beta Reader: @allywritesforfun (thank you!!)

Event Masterlist

Regular Masterlist

“Finally.” You sighed and watched the cloud from your breath be swept away in the chilling wind. “I’m here.”

Your boots sunk into the snow as you slowly trekked through the AMC’s parking lot. You stepped through the doorway of the movie theater, your frosty skin was immediately met with a sea of warmth. Reaching into your jacket pocket, you pulled out your phone and checked the time. ‘9:25, shit,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Five minutes won’t be enough time.’ You walked up to the counter in the middle of the lobby as you slid your phone back into your pocket.

The employee working at the counter seemed to be the only other person in the theater.

‘I guess going to the movie’s once the movie has already started does have its advantages.’

“Good evening,” the woman said, interrupting your train of thought. “How may I help you?”

“Good evening,” you responded. “I’d like a ticket to ‘The Black Phone’ please.” 

The employee grabbed the ticket from under the counter and shuffled a few steps right to the register. She waved you over and said, “That’ll be $13.69, anything else I can get you?”

“No, ma’am. Thank you.” you answered as you took $15 out of your wallet, careful not to drop anything, and handed it to the employee.

“Enjoy your movie!” The employee kindly smiled at you as she handed you your change.

“Thank you! Have a good day!” You smiled back before you walked a few steps away and took your phone out again.

’9:27.’ the lock screen read.

‘Only three minutes, I don’t think I’m going to make the commercials,’ you thought before deciding it would be alright to miss them— after all, how could you watch the movie without getting a duck?! With that in mind, you dashed over to the arcade section of the lobby, straight to your favorite machine.

The rubber duck claw machine was your favorite game because you were always guaranteed to win. Everyone was actually— it’s impossible to lose the game. All you have to do is put in one dollar and, just like a claw machine, you maneuver the device to win your prize. The game had no timer, and won’t stop until you’ve won! All the prizes in the machine were different rubber animals; although, they were mostly rubber ducks in costumes. Since discovering the machine, you’ve made it a habit to get a rubber animal to accompany you to watch the movies.

You squatted down and fed the machine a dollar. As you stood back up the door chimed. A gust of cold wind hit your skin and sent a shiver through your spine. You glanced in that direction and saw two men walk through the door. One was slightly taller with dark brown hair. His face was flushed from the cold and he was blowing into his hands, presumably to warm himself. The other man’s hair was a lighter brown with a hardly noticeable red tint to it. As if he could sense your gaze on him, the shorter one turned his head and met your eyes. He looked you up and down before his friend stole his attention at the counter.

You remembered what you were meant to be doing and refocused on the machine in front of you.

‘Wouldn’t want to miss too much of the movie, better hurry this up,’ you thought as you moved the machine’s arm.

You decided you wanted the rubber duck that looked like a green T. rex and let the claw drop to pick it up.

“Wooo!!” You cheered as the machine picked up the weirdly positioned dinosaur on your first try.

“Clang!” The dinosaur was dropped into the plastic area of the machine. “Clang!”

‘That’s weird… Sounded like it fell twice..?’ you silently questioned.

You opened the compartment and reached your hand in. Sure enough you felt two rubber ducks. Pulling them out, you noticed that the machine had given you two of the same dinosaur ducks. You stared at the second duck in your hand in confusion.

‘It must have been picked up with my dinosaur and I just didn’t notice,’ you deduce. ‘But what should I do with it? I can’t watch the movie with TWO rubber ducks, that’s not right.’

You looked around the lobby and saw the two men, now at the counter paying for their popcorn and tickets. An idea popped into your head and you walked over to them.

“Hi, I’m sorry to interrupt you,” you started. “Long story short, that claw machine over there just gave me two ducks instead of one, so I came over here to give one to you. Paying the luck forwards you know? Anyways, have a good movie!” 

You handed the shorter man the duck and started walking towards your movie theatre.

“Wait!” He lightly grabbed your arm to stop you. Succeeding in his attempt, you turned back around and tilted your head at him, confused.

“Hmm?” you hummed.

“You didn’t give me the chance to say thank you,” he chuckled softly. “My name is Sapnap, this is my friend George.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.”

‘He smells good,’ you thought to yourself. ‘What is that smell though? I definitely recognize it.’

“Nice to meet you too, and thanks… for the dinosaur.” Sapnap smiled, looking down at it then back to you.

“No problem! But I’ve got to go, the movie is going to start any second now if it hasn’t already!” you said as you quickly left to go to theater five.

~~

“Are you going to have that stupid smile on your face for the rest of the day?” George asked Sapnap.

“What are you talking about?” Sapnap tried to push down the smile on his face, only for it to peak back through.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” George scoffed. “You like them.”

“Quit it, I don’t like them,” Sapnap lied and started walking toward their theater, already late for the movie.

“You’ve talked to them once and now you’re in love!” George shook his head at his friend.

Sapnap rolled his eyes at George. “You’re so stupid. I’ve never been in love… Not seriously— at least”

The two walked on in a comfortable silence until they reached the door of their theater. They walked in and got a few isles down before Sapnap threw out his arm and stopped both of them in their tracks.

“What?” George questioned.

“Is that them over there?” Sapnap pointed at a person sitting in the front row.

“You’re not going to be doing this the whole movie are you?” George crossed his arms over his chest.

“I think it’s them!” Sapnap whispered, walking in their direction.

“Come watch a movie in the theater with me you said, it’ll be fun you said.” George mocked his friend, following a few steps behind him.

Taglist:

@graymoon2-archive @allywritesforfun @wrenqueenisboss @graymoonspam @bi-narystars @0yuioy0

#sapnap #sapnap x reader #x reader #sapnap oneshot #sapnap imagine #mcyt #mcyt x reader #fluff #dsmp #dsmp x reader #cloud writes #clouds library books #clouds 100 followers event

[sortofanobsession]

To Cry for the Moon Part 5 (Moon Knight x Female Eternal!Reader)

Author’s Note: This one is a longer one, and I might be the only update until Monday. If I have time to finish part 6 after I get home from Mean Girls the Musical I might get it out tomorrow but I cannot guarantee it. But enjoy part 5!

I do not have dissociative identity disorder (DID) This is a fictional depiction of DID & characters are based on the Marvel/Disney’s Moon Knight series. I own nothing. The story idea by @jupitersmoon167 (the original post I saw is here!) Also realized I should probably add content warnings, so I did and tagged them. If you think I missed a warning please send me an ask. I try to tw tag even the tiniest thing so no one has to suffer if I can help it.

Y/N = Your Name. Y/N/N = Your Nickname. Reader pronouns She/Her. Story is 3rd person POV. Italics are the reflected alter talking.

Tag Requests are Open just message me.

Tagged: @rosaren2498, @yuugenmomo, @faefanatic, @urlocallsimp, @assassinsasha23, @queenariesofnarnia

Primary Pairing: Steven Grant x Eternal!Reader, Marc Spector x Eternal!Reader, Khonshu x Ma'at!Reader (It’ll make sense eventually)

Content Warning: Mental Illness, arguing, stalking (because Khonshu is just being a creeper), angry Khonshu, Earthquake

Word Count: 2k+

WIP Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Part 5: Unsteady Times

Y/N was mid-tour when the world around them started to shake. People began to panic, screaming in fear of the large objects and glass displays. She did her best to usher the group away from looming artifacts. As much as she knew she wasn't supposed to use her powers around people unless deviants were around she was already preparing to call on her wings to shield them as best as she could. A nearby statue standing nearly 10 feet tall swayed as the shaking seemed like it might never stop, but in reality could only be a few moments, less than a minute even. The slightly eroded base even on a secured pedestal might not hold much longer. She called on as much strength her cosmic powers allowed her without her armor or her wings to stop it from toppling over. When the shaking stopped and the statue stilled, she let go and looked around. The tour stopped as well. She did her best to calm them, but the group opted to leave. She could understand that. As she headed back from the lobby she decided to see how the gift shop, and a certain employee, had fared.  She managed to catch Steven's attention from the entrance of the gift shop. He was busy straightening a few toppled displays, stopping when he saw her. She gave him a wave and a thumbs up. He grinned and returned the gesture. It was really all they had a chance to do because of the chaotic nature of it all. But it was enough. Steven would take Marc's jabs about being a lovesick puppy because of how happy he was that she'd come to check on them. Marc was just glad she wasn't crushed under one of those giant statues she loved. That was something they both agreed on. 

As she walked back toward some of the more fragile artifacts she froze. She could see something moving, but it didn't make sense. She swore she saw a tall figure moving among the relics. It made Y/N shiver. 

"Do you feel that?" One of the other guides asks. "Is there a draft?"

"I…maybe, I don't know," Y/N replies, glancing back at the poorly lit room that was lit more for dramatic effect than convenient surveillance. She swore she saw movement again. 

"Are you alright?" Her coworker asks, stepping beside her.

"What? Oh yeah, guess I'm still a bit shaken up. Not every day you wonder if you might get done in by a replica of a temple column or take a sarcophagus lid to the head."

"If we did, I'd demand hazard pay," the guide said. 

"Agreed," Y/N chuckled. 

But she couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Her shift was almost over but something made her step into the Ennead exhibit.

She walks up to a set of statues, sighs, and walks over to a recreation of a temple wall. She stops in front of a god not featured throughout most of the exhibit. The lunar deity, Khonshu.

"I've either lost my mind after all these years or you're here for some reason. Part of me hopes you really are." She glances back at the statues of the Ennead. "I know they banished you, and I was sad to hear that, but just so you know, I'm glad you still exist." 

Her phone rings and she turns to leave. A grin on her face when she feels a slight breeze around her. 

"Hey Sprite," she says as she answers her phone. She closes the door to the exhibit and heads towards the lobby. "I'm on my way out now." 

Ancient Egypt:

Ma'at smiles as she watches her fellow Eternals mingle among the Egyptian people. It is unusual for a god or goddess to walk among the people but Ma'at was not a normal goddess. Her task was to directly judge the hearts of humanity. She had not only aided the humans in defining order, aiding in creating standards of judgment, laws and creating a balance with not only the world around them but in themselves. A system of truth and justice that would grow with the people. And grow it did. It grew into a kingdom, but humans and Eternals were not the only beings. Gods joined them. The Eternals welcomed the gods and their devotions to the kingdom they created. The bond between gods and Eternals was forged around a single feather. The feather of truth was offered on behalf of the Eternals and the people to aid the gods in their process so long as the gods agreed to maintain the systems already established, mainly the judgment of humanity and their hearts in this world and the next. The Eternal Y/N, having been the one to offer the feather and her services as the creator of the system to Osiris. In return he deemed her Ma'at, Goddess of judgment, truth, justice and order. Y/N happily accepted the position. That was how she found herself the liaison between the Ennead and the Eternals. The avatars of the gods, good and loyal servants of the deities, were always happy for her assistance. As the only god or goddess without the need of an avatar, a lot of communication went through Ma'at. The Eternals and other avatars helped, but like all things Y/N did, it was a balancing act she eagerly accepted. It was part of her mission after all. Though she would often buttheads with the more stubborn gods. Primary those that also claimed to enact judgment and justice. Osiris would defer to Ma'at more often than not to deal with stubborn deities. Requiring Ma'at to often reside in the temple as Khonshu and often Ammit quarrel. It was a tad bit tedious but all part of the job. But nothing ever lasts. As the kingdom celebrated the Eternals eradicating the deviants in the area. It meant it was time for the Eternals to move on. The humans were safe from deviants and the kingdom was thriving. Osiris had agreed, as well as most of the gods, that Ma'at is allowed to go without losing their backing. If only because she would never truly be gone. She would always be there in part. Her feather and the scales used to judge the hearts of humanity were forged from her energy. Forged by her hands with the aid of Phastos. It allowed her to be aide Osiris in his judgment no matter where she may be in the world. Her power continued to flow through the feather. But not all the gods were thrilled about their departure. That was how despite the joyous celebration going on throughout the kingdom, Y/N was unable to join her fellow Eternals. Instead, she found herself once more in the temple.

"Khonshu, this was always how it was going to be," she told him. "This is my mission, granted by the celestial that formed the world you claim to protect. To defy our creator, to defy his command, is beyond betrayal. Do you wish for my immortal life to be so swiftly ended? Do you not see that I've already done the most I can do? A part of my very being binds my power here. You may believe my power is as vast as the cosmos itself, as vast as the evening sky, but I have my limits. Arishem has seen to that. I cannot defy him."

"So you abandon us," Khonshu states. 

"Are you even listening to me? You will still have my power, my judgment. You will have everything you need for your precious justice to continue. You will still be able to protect the travelers of the night. You do not need me."

"Then leave!" Khonshu spat. "You are no god. You are a servant, a slave to a being you never get to see."

"Says the god that cannot be perceived by most mortals beyond a gust of wind. Only the gods and avatars can see you. Which one of us is bound by limitations, Bird?" She retorts. 

"My avatar is bound to me. He serves me." Khonshu says. "And as you said, you are no longer needed. So you waste my time." With that, he vanishes in a gust of wind and sand.

"Goodbye my friend," Y/N spoke to the night. Hoping the breeze and the night sky would convey her message. No longer feeling jovial or wanting companionship. She bid the temple goodbye, assuring the gods she could always be reached. Just hold the feather and she would feel them. She could return if Arishem and Ajak allowed. She returned to the Domo to prepare her heart for leaving the one place since Olympia she felt truly at home. Only bothering to join her fellow Eternals when they were called by Ajak to the main chamber of the Domo. She announced their next destination. Y/N had only been half-listening. She nods as the other agree to the new destination and they finally depart. 

A hand finds her shoulder. She looks up to see Ajak's gentle smile. "One day your heart will feel whole again, until then you still have ours, your fellow Eternals. Arishem is proud of you. The mission continues and you have done well, Y/N/N. Khonshu will see with time. We serve the same power. The cosmos that gives him his sight, flows through you, through all of us. You will never truly leave them. Take heart, my dear. You are proof the celestials provide for all." Ajak brushes a strand of hair from the younger Eternal face. "Your heart forever beats for the sands of time, they will all see that eventually. Even the gods cannot stop time."

Modern Times:

Steven had managed to make it to the last bit of Dane’s birthday party. Apologizing that Donna made him stay late again for inventory. 

“Next time just drag, Y/N/N along, she loves that boring stuff,” Sprite laughs. 

“Just glad you could make it,” Sersi smiles, Dane agrees with a nod. 

“Want me to take Donna down a peg again, you know I loooove to see her get all annoyed but not be able to do anything because both the tour guide and translation departments adore me.”

“So humble,” Sprite laughs.

“They do, don’t they,” Steven chuckles. “Thank you, love, but I can handle Donna.” 

“No you can’t but not like she can hear me,” Marc states from the reflection of a pint glass.

“Be nice, Y/N,” Sersi says. “No need to piss off Steven’s boss, she might take it out on him.” Sersi gave her a look that Y/N and Sprite referred to as the ‘You know how people get’ look. 

“Alright, we can’t have that now can we,” Y/N straightens the lapel of Steven’s jacket. “I won't antagonize your boss. I’ll be perfectly cordial as always.” Earning a snicker from Sprite. 

“I can be nice, I just hate the way she belittles him. Next time I see it, I’m going to HR.”

“You really don’t need to defend me,” Steven says. “It’s nothing new.”

Y/N pouts slightly. “Don’t need to, but I’m going to,” She patted his cheek and grinned. “Someone has to after all.”

“Did you feel that earthquake earlier?” Steven said eager to change the topic. 

"Yes, it was quite shocking. The poor students in my lecture were terrified."

"Poor kids," Steven says.

"Poor everyone," Y/N says. “Scared the hell out of the tour group I had. One lady screamed bloody murder. Glad none of the artifacts shifted too far. Made me wonder if standing the sarcophagi vertically in their displays was a good idea. Even if it didn’t crack, the glass might and that would have been a disaster. Then again, Sersi had a fossil nearly crush a kid, so I guess my group got lucky.” She left out the part that both she and Sersi had used their powers to protect people. The guys didn't need to know.

“Y/N!” Sersi slaps her arm. “She’s fine, a bit shaken, but she was fine. Is that why you got stuck on inventory? The earthquake shake up the gift shop?”

“It did, luckily not anything too valuable broke,” Steven nodded.

“Donna better not take it out of your check, she would blame you for tectonic plates shifting, or whatever caused it.”

“Enough about Donna, this is supposed to be a party, i’nnit?” Sprite groaned.

When the party was over they all headed out.

#To Cry for the Moon Fic #reader insert #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x eternals!reader #marc spector x female!reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x female!reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x reader #khonshu x reader #moon knight x reader #female!reader #Eternals!reader #Moon Knight Eternals Crossover fic

[originalgenshinscenarios]

Hello!! May I please request Fischl/Shenhe/Ganyu

With an s/o who acts like their mom? Like, the reader is kind of like worrying if they've eaten, they boost their confidence, they take care of them, buy stuff for them, etc.

Yay I finally get to write for Shenhe!

Fischl, Shenhe and Ganyu with motherly S/O

Reader here is female

Fischl

She's really flattered by your attention to her well being- treating her even more like a princess is making her super happy.

She doesn't take your advices seriously unless you say it in "her language". But if you look really worried she'll more likely go along with what you've said.

Whenever she goes out on her usual business you often pack some stuff for her and although it embarrasses her she always finds what you pack handy.

She likes receiving gifts from you, but she also feels like she has to repay the kind gesture as soon as possible.

Shenhe

There are a lot of things that make you worry about her, but it has nothing to do with her strength. Her habits are... Specific to say the least.

You usually help her learn proper manners, but you can see that even though she follows your guidance she has no idea why is it necessary.

Knowing how she eats, you just can't let it slide. You make sure that she doesn't need to eat those bitter herbs ever again.

She feels weird about you spoiling her- but she doesn't hate it. She just needs to get used to it.

Ganyu

She loves to nap with you present. Your embrace is so comforting and as you run your fingers through her hair she's guaranteed to fall asleep quickly.

Your confidence boosts mean a lot to her and she always feels so warm inside whenever you praise her.

Shopping with you is something she ended up really enjoying, not because you always buy whatever catches her eye- but because it's just fun to walk around the shops together.

~Mod Lisa

#Fischl #Fischl x reader #fischl von luftschloss narfidort #fischl gi #fischl genshin impact #shenhe x reader #shenhe #shenhe gi #shenhe genshin impact #ganyu x reader #ganyu gi #Ganyu #ganyu genshin impact

[pearlsprings]

Jealous! Me? ( Part two)

OUT OF MY HANDS!

People are people. They must be free to love whom they will love and not love whom they choose not to love. I have been compelled to brood over this fact  to snap my heart out of foolishness! Maybe I should say, jealousy!

This introductory visit was supposed to be brief since PP had to return his office and I had a load of other things to do. But as always, you never quite spend the time you plan to spend with YAAA... 30 minutes easily become 3 hours around YAAA! I kid you not! And the amazing thing is that it feels like you have only been with her for 15 minutes... Lol!

As I suspected, she was not interested in managing a forex account of her own, like myself. She suggested that PP manages both our accounts for us for a commission on our earnings. Coming to that decision was easy since we were both certain that we were unprepared to commit all the attention required to manage a profitable forex account.

 WEIGHTIER MATTERS: Positive Distractions

PP's spiritual senses were in tune and in no time, the weightier matters for which I believe the Lord orchestrated this meeting began to show up and distract PP...needless to say, the next 2 hours or so, were not spent discussing forex trading.

The Lord visited YAAA  in a most beautiful way and I believe her whole family was touched one way or another because of this visit.

 SMITTEN !

So PP was bitten by the bug... He was caught by the allure of YAAA's company and the ambiance of her cozy home (same thing happened to me).

There was a request that we return the next day... Distractions part two! This time, we met her husband. PP was gobsmacked! He loved the man. (I guarantee you would too if you were there). On and on we went... PP I mean. I was more of a spectator actually. Just loving all that the Lord was doing!

PP received some gift vouchers from YAAA'S 'Head' who promised to sort me out later. I didn't have any problem at all.

Things begun to ruffle my feathers a bit when PP came to my home later that afternoon to hand me two of the vouchers... Feeling guilty or bad for me I guess. I suspected he will do this and I rejected it.

I sent him away quickly, telling him that I am not his Pimp. I was busy cooking at the time and I also had a meeting in the evening which I could not be late for.

Then I had to send PP the phone number for YAAA.

They of course begun chatting and YAAA will tell me whenever they did. (to the best of my knowledge)

Before you know it, PP started to visit YAAA by himself. This is not a bad thing... But what?

 JEALOUSY GO SHEE!

When I heard about walks in her yard and 'Kofi broke man' lunches, I confess I got sober. I began to wonder why Kofi did not mention these to me.

I shocked myself in the ensuing days.

Lava hot jealousy gripped me. Here I was thinking all sorts of things; he is enjoying my new friend, when he kicked against meeting her in the first place... I finally found a friend in the faith, who is also female... And now PP has waltzed in and is whisking her heart away... From me... And he now wants to do stuff with her I thought was exclusive to us... And what's worse, I handed him to YAAA on a silver platter!

I love YAAA... I know she loves me right back... She told me so.

As for PP, he has sentenced himself to life as my 'Ride or Die'! It is what it is!

So why was I hyperventilating each time I thought of them together?

I began to feel angry at PP. Why was he enjoying my friend? Why didn't he just stick to forex trading? Ah!

I stopped answering PP's phone calls. I needed space to think.

I know I was being unreasonable. I mean initially, PP was behaving as if he couldn't go over to YAAA's home without me. I of course told him that was silly and I was not his Pimp! I eventually admitted to myself that I was jealous. I also convinced myself that I had to get over it. These are two people I am grateful to God that our paths have more than crossed at this side of eternity. Instead of 'stewing' in jealousy, I must put my time and emotions to better use and just love. I am actually glad they both get along.

Unfortunately, before I could complete the self soothing process, I got caught.

 BUSTED !

Okay, so did I mention that YAAA is a fierce lawyer, entrepreneur, wife, mother... SFFS? Nothing escapes her attention. So I kind of expected it when she called me and pinned me down with the question... "Do you have a problem with my relationship with PP?"

I was ready! Thankfully, I had just cleared my head on the subject.

Without giving her all the details, I told her  what I honestly felt. It helped to talk about it to another person. She told me she was breaking up with us both... Lol! She didn't want to come between friends... (she was just joking).

PP called me a few minutes after. I declined to take the call. I was going to handle it when I had time.

This was the very next day though. PP came over to my home. I poured my heart out, he took notes. He addressed all the issues I brought up. He was surprised but glad that I opened up... Guess what? YAAA called! Then she came over!

I wish I could say... "And they lived happily ever after" but you know what they say "two is company, three is a crowd".

I must say that I thank God for this 'Crowd'.

#frienship #friends #openness #love triangle #spilled truth #real deal

[oraclekleo]

Lee Dong Heon (VERIVERY) Relationship Role Tarot Reading

Disclaimer:

All readings have purely entertainment nature

I don’t know any of the celebrities personally

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Before requesting, read the pinned post and appropriate linked post

Tarot readings are my hobby - I’m not obligated to accept any of the requests nor to complete them, it’s my choice, not duty

Waiting time is long, even several months

If you can’t wait, please, seek other tarot reader

Reading Info:

Rating: 18+

Reading Type: Single - Couple

Requested: Yes - No

Requester: /

Deck: E. A. Poe

Spread: Relationship Role

Questions:

Friend

Boyfriend

Lover

Husband

One-Night-Stand

Celebrity Info:

Full Name: Lee Dong Heon

Stage Name: Dongheon

Group: VERIVERY

DOB: 04.08.1995

Sun Sign: Leo

Chinese Sign: Wood Pig

Life Path Number: 9

Masterpost: VERIVERY

Ko-fi - Voluntary Tip for Readings

Reading done: 26/03/2022

Lee Dong Heon

(Dongheon - VERIVERY)

Deck: E. A. Poe

Spread: Relationship Role

Friend - 0 The Fool, XV The Devil

Dongheon is a little mischievous friend. He’s likely to tease and manipulate his friends often, pull pranks on them and encourage them to misbehave and take risks. He’s likely popular but somewhat his presence always means that troubles are about to happen.

Boyfriend - 9 of Pentacles, 9 of Cups

While dating Dongheon is likely to be generous with his time, money and affection. He’s likely to spoil his significant other with gifts, meals and activities. Dongheon is likely to be an attentive and cheerful boyfriend, always responding to any SOS call.

Lover - 3 of Cups, Queen of Swords

Lover Dongheon is a bit of an ice queen. He likes to be seduced in a sophisticated way. He won’t warm up to blunt and ordinary flattering, he demands his lover to try hard for his attention. Once the icy armour melts down, Dongheon becomes the most loving and responsive man alive. He’s likely very vocal and if handled right, he will turn into a puddle by his lover’s feet.

Husband - IX The Hermit, Page of Cups

Dongheon might not feel like a husband material as of now. He hasn’t matured to this level just yet. It’s likely he would find the marriage boring and way too oppressive for his free spirit. If for some reason he would be forced to get married now, he would likely insist on independent lives with his spouse to a certain degree.

One-Night-Stand - 8 of Swords, 8 of Cups

Dongheon is unlikely to enjoy the benefits of short-term affairs. He’s simply not interested enough, they seem way too shallow for his taste. Dongheon might be a little devil but he’s a complex and sophisticated devil and one night stands seem way too ordinary for his taste. He might try it once just to tick it off from his bucket list but it’s unlikely for him to repeat it.

Thank you for reading!

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#kpop tarot #verivery #verivery tarot #kpop verivery #verivery scenarios #verivery imagines #verivery smut #verivery dongheon #verivery dongheon scenarios #verivery dongheon imagines #verivery dongheon smut #verivery lee dongheon #verivery lee dongheon scenarios #verivery lee dongheon imagines #verivery lee dongheon smut #dongheon verivery #dongheon scenarios #dongheon imagines #dongheon smut #lee dongheon #lee dongheon scenarios #lee dongheon imagines #lee dongheon smut #oracle kleo #kpop #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop scenarios

[4townlove]

since you’re accepting requests for 4town hc’s can I request some general dating headcanons for all of the boys? not sure if you have a character limit but if you do just the aaron’s is fine thanks <33

sure thing! now presenting...

4⭐Town Headcanons: The Members Dating Habits

⭐Robaire

if you're dating him, you can believe that you are the first person on his mind when he wakes up in the morning and the thought of you always makes him beam a smile

he always wants to know about your dreams. if they were good or bad, if they were about him. he could talk about it with you for hours but alas, he must sing

every song he sings is done so with you in mind. if youre in the studio with him and the others, his eyes will always be on you, a charmed smile on his face

expect love poems written for you in french which he recites to you often and lovingly, his eyes fixed on yours, holding your hands gently and always ends with a soft kiss

he will whisper sweet nothings in french to you whenever he gets the chance, even if that means in the middle of a meeting, on the way to the stage or in a quiet of his dressing toom. if you understand french, you'll be burning a blush at his words. if not, you'll still be blushing because he's so damn smooth its irresistible

he likes the press oogling over your relationship, and won't hesitate to have some very light pda in public

he calls you "Mon Amor"

⭐ Jesse

coffee cup with your name and a cute message written on it will be delivered to you every morning

he's a flirter. lots of winks and grinning and cute compliments all day long.

being that he trusts you with his heart, he will gravitate to you for advice on his clothes, his hairstyle and how he's doing in his performances, knowing you will be honest with him and have his best interests in mind always

he doesn't mind the press oogling you both but prefers to be without them. and for a fact he will not stand any harassment towards you, even from fans. he doesnt care who they are. they do not mess with you.

dates often happen either at his house, where you'll enjoy a brilliant homecooked meal while his kids run around, a cute picnic, or a trip to the movies. its always mostly casual but always so heartfelt.

he is very attentive and aware when you have an issue, taking you aside to talk with you privately if needed and always staying close to you through the day

he calls you "Honey"

⭐ Taeyoung

oh he adores you so so so much. shy but cute kisses to your cheeks always. his first gift will be nailpolish that he'll do for you himself

clingy but in an endearing way. he's always holding your hand, right at your side, and if he's not with you, he's fidgety until he sees you again, blushing as he beams a smile and hugs you tight

he loves getting time alone with you. often, he has lunch dates on the roof of the company building with you. he brings packed lunches he prepares with all the love in his heart and loves seeing you enjoy what he's prepared for you

naps, naps and more naps with him in his dressing room are a guarantee and they're the best. and in line with these precious quiet recluses of your relationship, he likes to keep it private. he does his best to ensure the press doesnt know.

he comes to you when he's worried and always tell you that you can come to him with yours, and he means it. he will listen to you ernestly and give you advice as best he can.

you are the first person he invites to help care for his doves and seeing you with them brings him more joy than he can contain.

he calls you "Sweetie" or "Dove"

⭐ Aaron T

he is loud and proud about being with you. he'll scream it from the rooftops, call the press just to tell them he's dating you and is your boyfriend, always introduces you as his partner, always, even to people who already know. expect surprise kisses, and hundreds of them, all over your face

he just loves you. he'll trip up in rehersal cos he's staring at you or trying to make you laugh. he doesn't care if Robaire gets stroppy or Aaron Z stares at him. all he cares about is you.

dates are mostly in fast food parking lots but they're so fun. he also will turn up in the middle of the night for midnight dates in the similar places. too much food, but so much fun and in those times, he lets himself be vulnerable around you, trusting you so much. kisses in the front seat, laying on the roof of his car staring at the stars, or you sitting on the hood while he raps a piece he wrote just for you in the glare of the headlights of his car.

he calls you "Sugar/Baby/My love/Babe/Darlin'/Light of my Life" etc etc etc

⭐ Aaron Z

he adores you but he's so quiet no one knows but you. for a while anyway. he's just as, if not more, clingy than Taeyoung. he's always hanging around you, your pinkies linked or hands interlocked, his chin resting on your head, his head in your lap, arms around your waist, his eyes softly fixated on you

when the other guys quickly realise you're together, he makes them swear not to let anyone know. and he means no one. all it takes is a stern look from him for Aaron T to also swear on his life. he wants this to just be something for you and him

lunch "dates" in empty dance studios. he puts on some music on a stereo and smiles when you do. he opens up to you slowly but truly. and when he speaks, his words are so genuine and honest, you can tell it in his eyes, you can feel how much he loves you burning in his eyes. he's so devoted to you its unbelievable

soft small kisses, especially to your forehead, and warm lingering hugs, quiet honest compliments.

works even harder to impress you with his choreography and performances, and sometimes you have to remind him that he's doing well and doesn't need to burn out over you. and eventually he will listen

he calls you "Baby"

#turning red #4town #4town robaire #4town jesse #4town taeyoung #4town aaron t #4town aaron z #4townie #pixar #4town headcanons #⭐headcanons #⭐requests #⭐from 4townlove

[white-collar-lawmen-and-conmen]

25% (Part One)

Summary: Neal added himself to a national bone marrow registry. He unexpectedly matches closely to a female cancer patient a few months later.

Word Count: 5,392

A/N: Requested by anonymous. This was a oneshot but it got too long so now it's a two-parter. Potential trigger warning of blood cancer, chemotherapy, and mention of hypodermic injections. Dr. Wilson and House are borrowed from House, M.D. Longer A/N at the bottom. Enjoy!

February 2010

“Peter, did you know that someone in this country is diagnosed with blood cancer every three minutes?” Neal asked, paraphrasing from the informational leaflet.

Peter, standing in the line just ahead of him, sighed sympathetically. “Yes, Neal, I read it, too.”

The thief looked back down at the trifolded pamphlet, reading the rest of it through a second time while the line slowly moved forward. Gift of Life adorned the top of each third of the cardstock. When the nonprofit had reached out to the businesses and organizations in Federal Plaza, the bureau had forwarded the notice to its New York agents en masse, and for the last two days, agents, as well as lawyers, clerks, police, and civilians, had been filtering through the queue to be tested. Neal had opted to go with Peter, not seeing any harm. Now, reading the leaflet he’d been given to ensure his consent was informed, he was altruistically glad that he’d come.

“White patients are almost guaranteed to find a compatible donor,” Neal read, tapping Peter on the shoulder to make sure that the agent was paying attention. “The odds go down for other ethnicities. This says Black Americans only have a two-in-three chance*.”

Peter’s sigh sounded more irritated this time. “I read the same thing you did, Neal.” He turned partway to talk more easily to his consultant while still able to move forward when the line did. They were almost at the front.

“I wonder why,” Neal thought aloud. “Have fewer Black people been tested? It could be their sample size. Maybe some demographics aren’t as willing to be tested.” Knowing the country’s history of medical abuse towards Black citizens, that wouldn’t be too surprising.

“It could be about genetics,” Peter answered, grudgingly curious.

Before they could theorize further, the line moved forward. A woman in scrubs wearing a paper mask over her face poked her head out of the small tent and gestured for Peter to come inside. Peter ducked in and Neal waited alone. Maybe a minute later, she stuck her head back out and gestured for Neal.

Inside the pop-up tent, a collapsible plastic table had been set up. One volunteer sat at the table, taking down information and using a small barcode printer to code information to the stickers put on samples. Beside the table were two milk cartons full of empty little vials, and a huge glass jar had nothing but long cotton swabs.

Neal wrote in his name, birthday, and contact information, then responded to a short checklist of yes or no questions about his medical history while Peter had his cheek swabbed. When he was done, he turned the clipboard back towards the volunteer. She took the sheet he’d used off the clipboard and then turned it back towards the table for the next donor. His handler was ushered out of the other side of the pop-up, and Neal took his place while the nurse sealed the vial shut and added the printed barcode sticker corresponding to Peter. She beckoned the next person inside, then turned to Neal.

He didn’t remember getting his cheek swabbed so roughly before, but at least it didn’t hurt. He wasn’t even supposed to stay until the sticker was on his vial, instead being shown the door (well, exit flap) by the nurse. Neal came back out of the tent into the sunshine and saw Peter had stopped to wait for him a few feet away.

“Done your civic duty for the day?” The agent checked dryly.

“Yeah,” Neal said, folding up the leaflet he’d been holding onto and putting it in his pocket. “Now that that’s over with I can get back to my foreign duties instead.”

“Ha! Maybe in 44 months,” Peter snorted, leading the way back to the FBI building.

July 2010

You’d known something was wrong since late March, when your pants stopped fitting. You hadn’t been worried then; it was just a sign you needed to make sure you were getting enough to eat. But then you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d woken up feeling refreshed. And then there was the brain fog that started crowding your thoughts out on bad days. None of these things would have concerned you alone, because everyone had bad days, and sometimes when you couldn’t sleep, you were tired, and it was hard to concentrate. Finally, the pain in your back started, and you realized too much was wrong at once to not go to a doctor. Two visits and a specialist appointment later, you had a diagnosis. Multiple myeloma.

And now this: it wasn’t getting better.

“I thought the chemo was helping,” you said, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of cancerous cells multiplying and spreading, poisoning your body from within. And, worse, you’d just been making yourself feel and look like shit pointlessly because the chemotherapy wasn’t even helping.

“It was. The results were promising and we still aren’t seeing any signs that it’s moved to your other organs,” Dr. Wilson told you kindly. You hated him. Well, no. You hated coming to see him. His track record for giving you good news was pretty bad, considering he was the one who’d given you the cancer diagnosis in the first place. But he was one of the best oncologists in the tri-state area that you could get in to see. “But we’re also not seeing the cancer going away any more now than it was this time last month.”

It was just sitting there, festering. You squeezed your eyes shut so tightly you started seeing dark spots flashing against your eyelids, and then breathed in heavily and looked at the doctor again.

“Do I have any options?” You asked hopefully, battling the bone-deep tiredness that you felt both physically and mentally.

“I think, with your permission, it would be best to look at a more aggressive treatment,” Dr. Wilson said, reaching back over to his desk. When his patients came in, he often sat with them on one of the couches or chairs instead of being several feet away behind a table. He gave you one of those little thin hospital leaflets. Bone marrow transplantation.

“When we’re looking at this problem, there are two factors to consider.” Dr. Wilson explained patiently. “First, you’ve got the cancerous cells. We have to take them out of your body so they can’t keep replicating and, God forbid, metastasize. Second, you still need to have some cells to be healthy, so we need to make sure you have those.”

“But you can’t specifically take out only the cancerous cells,” you said dully, seeing where it was going. As if the leaflet hadn’t given it away already.

“No, we can’t,” he confirmed. “So in cases like this, sometimes our best option is to just… well, to weaken your immune system and kill off all of the cells in that area. No more cancer. A healthy donor supplies some replacement cells, and while your immune system is down, it’s more likely to accept the donated material. Those cells then replicate and offer a new supply of healthy, non-cancerous marrow.” Dr. Wilson locked his fingers and set his hands on his knee. “It’s not always fast to find a donor, and there’s always the chance your body will reject the transplant, even after everything. And, as you know, there’s no cure for cancer – you would be in remission, but you wouldn’t be cured.”

The moment he said remission, you knew that you were on board, no matter how apprehensive you still felt. Even in the simplified explanation he had given you, there were a few things you didn’t feel confident that you understood. But… to be cancer-free…

You wrung your hands nervously and, wanting to know what you were getting into, asked, “Will it kill me if it goes wrong?”

Dr. Wilson shook his head quickly. “That’s always possible, but it would be an exceedingly rare case. It’s an inpatient procedure. You’d stay here at least overnight and if there were any signs that your body was rejecting the donation, you’d have medical care immediately.”

“But my immune system would be shot,” you said worriedly.

“But in a sterile environment with doctors and nurses on call at all times, that’s not nearly as dangerous as it used to be,” he reassured you. “And the body is strong. It’s usually only three to four weeks before any chemotherapy patient is back to full immunological health.”

Biting your lip, you weighed the risks. Dr. Wilson seemed pretty certain that it was worth taking the risk to go ahead with it, and that those risks were relatively small. And the thought of not having this mutation sitting in your back anymore was incredibly tempting. Resisting it, you imagined, was like asking a recovering alcoholic to resist a Cosmo put right in front of them. Every day you felt unsafe and paranoid of your own body – the one place you could never actually flee from.

“When you say aggressive treatment…”

“It’s aggressive in the sense that we would be deliberately, albeit temporarily, shutting down your immune system. It won’t be pleasant for you, but it wouldn’t last very long,” Dr. Wilson offered. “And in that the transplantation process is inherently an invasive procedure. But it’s also a relatively low-risk one, given a close genetic match.” He lowered his head down to try to meet your eyes as you stared towards a crease on the knee of his pants. “Does that mean you’re considering the option?”

You nodded without thinking. Considering was the absolute least of what you were doing. “I want to do it,” you said.

It wasn’t like you weren’t signing up to be a chemo-weakened shadow of yourself for yearsjust for one longshot operation. You were signing up to feel like hell and be vulnerable in a relatively safe environment, and what sounded like a relatively minor operation. Having a needle put in your back, or even into your bones, was a far cry from the open-heart surgeries which were successful most of the time. Maybe your judgment was skewed, but there was little you wouldn’t do to put yourself in remission. Even if it wasn’t permanent, it would be worth it to have your normal life back for a little longer.

“Oh – okay.” Dr. Wilson blinked and sat up straight. “Alright. The first thing we do is find a donor. Once we find one, and they’re willing to go through the donation process, then we begin the more intensive prep work. Until then,” he said, standing up from the chair and going back to his desk. The oncologist grabbed a pen and made a few notes for himself while you listened, daring to look up hopefully and track him with your eyes. “You stay on your current treatment plan. Not getting better’s frustrating, but for now, we know you’re not getting worse, and you’re still able to function.”

That was debatable. Some days were worse than others. You decided not to point that out. The glumness you normally felt about it was absent now as you grew excited. This was happening. You were going to get better!

“For that donor,” the doctor said, turning back around to you and sitting on the edge of his chair. “Do you have any living biological relatives?”

… Oh. Nausea slammed into your stomach and your heart dropped. You hadn’t thought about that. About what it meant when he’d said that you’d need to find a close genetic match. The sun shining through the huge, clear windows felt horridly inappropriate; you expected and wanted to be swallowed up by the dark.

“I’m sure I do,” you said quietly, “But I was adopted. I have no idea who they are.”

Dr. Wilson’s smile had fallen in concern when yours had, but then he started to give you a reassuring smile. “That’s okay,” he said swiftly, seeing how your mood had changed. You raised your eyebrows skeptically. “We’re not matching DNA, we’re matching protein markers. Siblings are only about 25% likely to be a match, anyway. There are massive donor registries that cover the entire country. Your odds aren’t too bad. I’m going to send an order to the lab you go to.” He uncapped his pen to make more notes to himself. “They’re going to do a blood draw, and when they do, you’re going to have to sign authorization forms for them. With your consent, they’ll submit your sample to the biggest registries and contact me when they find possible options.”

You tentatively started to smile. “When,” you repeated after him quietly. “I really hope you’re not just trying to make me feel better.”

The blond man looked at you seriously and promised, “I would never mislead you about your medical situation. I think you should be optimistic. I’ll let you know when I have an update for you on your search, and if nothing comes up in the next month, then I’ll see you at your regular time.”

August 2010

If Lauren was allowed to doodle angry little sharks in the margins of her notes during meetings, then Neal strongly believed he should also be allowed to multitask. Judging by the fact that Peter confiscated Neal’s phone during their latest meeting, the agent felt differently.

Peter gave it back to him with a scolding order to pay more attention next time. Neal looked as apologetic as he could in the face, while in the eyes he made sure Peter could see he wasn’t contrite at all. It wouldn’t do to have Peter thinking that Neal was so easily cowed about something so trivial, but performing the lip service had the best outcomes for him because no one else knew him well enough to read the defiance in his eyes. That message was only for Peter, and Peter couldn’t rebuke him for it.

During the meeting, he had missed a phone call from someone who wasn’t in his contacts. Neal returned to his desk while waiting for it to dial back and hoping it wasn’t a spam call. There was a chance it was Mozzie, though, or even Alex, so he couldn’t not call back.

No one picked up, but the answering machine piqued his interest. It was an oncologist. Instead of leaving a message, the artist opened up a new tab on his desk monitor and searched the man’s name. Google had a couple small articles on the guy. As of two years ago, he was working as a cancer specialist at a teaching hospital in New Jersey. He double-checked and found that the area code he had called from was a New Jersey number, so it seemed like he was still there.

Mozzie would only go to a doctor if he were literally dying, and he would only go to a doctor in New Jersey if he were half-dead and being escorted there against his will by someone else, so Neal knew that wasn’t it. Purely out of curiosity, he called back, and this time, he left his name and phone number on the answering machine, and added that he was more reachable in the afternoons.

A few hours later, his phone rang again. It was from the same number. Neal excused himself from his desk and strode quickly towards the kitchenette so that his call didn’t bother anyone who was working, and answered it quietly by the coffee machine.

“Is this Mr. Neal Caffrey?” A man’s voice asked on the other end. “This is Dr. Wilson from Princeton-Plainsboro. I tried to call this morning.”

“Yeah,” Neal said vaguely to both. “You’re speaking to him. Can I help you?”

“Not me, specifically,” the doctor answered. “Do you remember registering with Gift of Life this past February?”

Neal blinked. That had been so long ago, and so much had happened since, that he’d all but forgotten about it. After he’d gotten home that evening, he’d looked up more information and found out that most donors would never be the closest match to someone looking for a donation. The thief had put it out of his mind and worried about the more important things on his plate, like corrupt OPR agents, his girlfriend’s murder, and how quickly he was going to be released from prison a second time.

“Yeah,” he said again. “I remember. Am I a match?” He couldn’t think of any other reason he’d be getting called.

“I have a patient whose HLA markers are a close match to yours,” the doctor told him. “If you’re still willing to be a donor, would you mind coming to the hospital for more thorough testing?”

He’d been through so much ugliness in the last couple of months that the idea of saving a life, even by something as passive as holding still and getting stuck with a needle, felt like it satisfied a mellow desire in his chest. He couldn’t save Kate, the one he’d desperately wanted to save, and he was gradually coming to accept that. But he knew that Kate – his Kate, at least, the one she’d been before she left – would’ve agreed to such a request in a heartbeat, and maybe this was a way to honor her.

Except that hospital was about 50 miles out of his radius.

Neal looked down at his right ankle and the lump under his trouser leg. “I actually don’t have a way to get to Princeton,” he said remorsefully. Even if Peter were willing to drive there, and he may have well been, the US Marshals would have had something to say about them taking a personal trip out of state, no matter what their intentions were. “Would it be possible to do that testing in Manhattan?”

The answer was absolutely. Dr. Wilson told him that compatibility testing could be done and transplantation performed from any medically licensed facility, and that his patient was willing to travel to said facility. Neal felt a sympathetic pang about that. Who wouldn’t be willing to go fifty miles out of their way to help themselves survive? If it were his health in jeopardy, he’d cut his anklet and run for it if that’s what it took to prolong his life.

On Tuesday morning, Peter picked up Neal and drove him to the hospital, carrying a messenger bag with cold cases to review and a deviled ham sandwich to eat for lunch since they’d taken the morning off. Peter didn’t even complain about the lost time once Neal said what he needed to go to the hospital for, and again, the artist was comforted by the knowledge that he was friends with genuinely good people. A part of him hoped their goodness would rub off a little bit more.

The longest part was having to wait to be checked in and taken back, but it wasn’t a short time in the office, either. Neal had to answer detailed questions about his medical background, and a doctor came in quickly to perform a routine physical and ensure that he was in good health. The nurse explained that, although they were only collecting blood to compare his protein markers to the anonymous patient’s, they liked to make sure that anyone they tested for compatibility would be healthy enough to go through with a donation process. If they weren’t, then it was a waste of everyone’s time to collect his blood. He saw the logic and signed a release permitting his history, evaluation, and blood results to be sent to Dr. Wilson at the Princeton-Plainsboro hospital.

Finally, a nurse came to draw his blood. “Last step and then you can leave,” she told him helpfully. “You’ll be contacted again if your HLA typing matches the donee closely enough to satisfy her doctor.”

“Her?” Neal asked curiously. He had assumed he was going through the process to donate to a man, although now that he thought about it, there was no real reason he’d thought so.

The nurse nodded. “The patient’s a woman with multiple myeloma. Blood cancer,” she added at Neal’s inquisitive look. “And based on the initial comparison, I’m hopeful you’ll be a good match. We usually don’t see them so close, except in siblings.”

“Huh,” he said aloud. Neal didn’t consider himself to be spiritual, but Kate would have seen that as a sign.

She took his blood quickly, having done it to other patients hundreds if not thousands of times before, then stuck a piece of gauze on his arm and a band-aid on top of that. Before he knew it Neal was being seen out of the room so it could be sanitized for someone else to use.

“How did it go?” Peter asked in greeting once Neal re-entered the waiting room.

Neal showed him the beige band-aid on his arm. “They stole my blood. And you call me a thief,” he joked.

September 2020

When Dr. Wilson saw you at your regular appointment, you had barely held your tongue long enough to sit down before you asked if there was any luck finding a donor. Although the man didn’t answer you right away, you were unbelievably relieved by how he seemed to fight to keep the smile off his face and remain measured and professional. That was a good sign, and it felt like suddenly this lead in your lungs was evaporating to let you breathe easily for the first time in weeks.

“We still need some time,” the blond had told you, gently making sure you didn’t get ahead of yourself. “A promising match is only so much. We need to run more comparisons, make sure that the odds of a rejection are as low as we can make them with the potentials that we have.”

Curious about the plural form, you’d asked if you actually had multiple matches. Dr. Wilson had nodded slowly, watching your face carefully to make sure you understood his explanation. You’d had two potential matches come up in the Gift of Life registry. Both were theoretically close enough to work, but one of them was a significantly closer match than the other. Dr. Wilson had already reached out to both about further testing so that if the closer match refused, or wasn’t that good of a match after all, the time wouldn’t have been wasted.

Another two weeks, almost three, and you were back in the office early at the doctor’s request. The markers were in, and so was the donor’s physical workup. He was in good health and willing to proceed. He was just about all you were able to get out of Dr. Wilson, what with the HIPAA laws in place for a reason. He was a he, and he was in your general age range, and he lived in Manhattan.

The doctor moved the process along, while you did all the preparations you could for the procedure. You tolerated what felt like exhaustingly long chemotherapy sessions and felt like you’d been hit by a slow-moving bus after each one. Though you fell asleep quickly, you were also woken up quickly by anything from a queasy stomach to muscle soreness, and even when you slept through several hours, you didn’t feel very refreshed. Your body was being put through the wringer in a new way. You just kept telling yourself that it was for the sake of a life where you didn’t have to do this all the time.

You wondered what he was like. The donor, that is. In your head, you’d started calling him X in place of a name. Whose protein markers were so much like yours that he was quite literally saving your life, granting you four, five, maybe even up to six extra years just by taking some blows for you this week. Finally, on the day of your last chemo treatment before the transplant, you decided you had to at least try for some answers and stopped at Dr. Wilson’s office after your treatment was over. Fortunately, he was still in his office.

“Hey,” he said, getting the door for you and guiding you to a seat. You didn’t need the gestures, but you did feel fatigued, and you knew that his walking with you was as much about liability if you fell than about thinking you needed the assistance. “Hey. Are you okay? What brings you here this evening? Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“Very,” you replied confidently, clenching your fists around the hem of your shirt. The taxi company had already called to confirm the fare out to Manhattan in the morning. “I was just hoping… well, I mean, I know you can’t tell me. But I’d like to know who my donor is, and meet him, if he’s willing.”

Dr. Wilson tilted his head to you curiously. “There’s a waiting period*, of course,” he said slowly. “You have to be 30 days post-op, no indication of required further transplant activity. That keeps it clean in case we have to ask the donor to go through the process again.”

You nodded, disappointed but understanding. You couldn’t know who was saving your life until it had already been saved. Maybe you weren’t meant to know at all, and maybe that was the point of the registry in the first place: you didn’t need to know Donor X, just that they were a fellow human who cared enough to be a good Samaritan.

“But after the waiting period, I can share your contact information with him, and vice versa, if you both consent,” Dr. Wilson offered after you didn’t say anything.

You perked up a little. “Yes. I’d like that, when it’s allowed.”

“Okay.” The oncologist nodded to himself. “I’ll make a note, and if you can just remind me in one of your follow-ups-“

A wheezing sound came from the ajar door to the hall. The wheeze was so bad it sounded like a balloon was slowly squeezing out its air. Dr. Wilson looked over your shoulder, and you tiredly, slowly craned your neck to look behind you. A rubber chicken continued to make a low squeaking noise while it slowly reinflated.

Silence. You looked at Dr. Wilson to ask if this was normal, and he was speechless, mortified.

A second rubber chicken came rolling through the open door. Someone in the hallway was throwing them. This one landed further in the office and inflated itself faster, at the cost of the wheezy, squeaking sound being more high-pitched.

Dr. Wilson finally recovered his voice and awkwardly forced a laugh, standing up and fixing his tie to hang straight. “I’m so sorry about this,” he told you profusely, his face turning red.

Before you could ask what he was apologizing for, since you were still very confused on the entire spectable, a third rubber chicken appeared, this one held up at the side of the door at eye-height. A man’s hand was squeezed around its side, and one finger at the back of its neck made it bob its head forward aggressively. The man on the other side of the door bawked equally aggressively.

Dr. Wilson’s embarrassed blush turned into a pink-faced scowl of anger as he rushed around you and to the door to deal with the rubber chicken man. “What do you think you’re doing?” He yelled at the other person in a tight-throated stage whisper.

“Bawk?” The other guy asked, using his tone to convey his meaning while he made the chicken squeak. “Bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk.”

“House,” Wilson said tersely, “I’m with a patient right now. I can’t deal with you.”

“Bawk,” the rubber chicken man – House – said. It sounded very accusing.

Your doctor must have thought so, too, because he paused, then came storming back into his office. He vehemently kicked both of the rubber chickens on the floor back out into the hallway, ignoring their wheezy screams of protest, and the judgmental, bawking cry from the rubber chicken man. Then the oncologist closed his door, hard enough that it made you jump, and kept a hand on it while he leaned to keep it closed, turning his body back to face you and forcing a polite, if nervous, smile.

“I – ah – what were we talking about?”

“Work friend?” You asked knowingly, making a face at the long, despairing bawk made on the other side of the door.

Dr. Wilson paused only for a second before he realized there was no point in pretending that hadn’t just happened. “Friend is a strong word,” he grumbled. “Right. Like I was saying. If you still want to share your contact information with the donor, I can pass it along after the mandatory waiting period has passed.”

You nodded in acquiescence, knowing you didn’t have a choice. It was for the best. Now you could put a pin in those worries about what Donor X would think of you and just focus on handling your fluttering nerves about the operation… and leaving without being ambushed by rubber chickens.

Meanwhile

Neal had lost track now of how many times he had rubbed at the injection site now. It already felt hot and swollen, and the itching and achiness hadn’t gone away since the second day after the regiment had started. To say he was relieved that it was almost over was precariously close to being an understatement.

He checked the clock again as the day slipped into the evening. The artist wasn’t usually such a clock-watcher, unless he was trying to agitate Peter by doing it very obviously during a boring meeting. It was just that the Filgrastim shots were draining. He still knew he wasn’t the one getting the short end of the stick – that would be the poor cancer patient he was donating marrow to, who was probably going through aggressive chemo today, if the Internet was right about her side of things. Knowing that didn’t make him physically feel any better, though, and he waited for the minutes to tick forwards until he could go home, put on his softest pajamas, and hide in the warmth of a tightly-tucked blanket.

Although Peter had asked without mockery in his voice, Neal hadn’t admitted to anyone that he was just a little nervous about the operation tomorrow. It was an outpatient procedure on his end, but it was still a procedure, and Neal hadn’t had any sort of medical procedure done on himself since some cosmetic dental work in his early adulthood. Afterwards, he'd be recovering in the hospital from the anesthesia, free of charge, until he was released in the late afternoon to go home. He knew the ins and outs as well as he could, short of going to medical school himself.

Thankfully, Peter was a nine-to-five man. Reliably, as soon as the clock hit five, Peter began to show the signs of packing up to leave. It took him a few minutes to get all of his last-minute boxes checked, but the agent was leaving his office with his coat in hand by ten after, and Neal stood up quickly in eagerness to go. He braced himself on his desk and hoped that the dizziness didn’t show too clearly.

The conman was losing some of his touch, he realized, when Peter stopped and asked sympathetically, “You need an Advil?”

It was beyond tempting, but Neal shook his head. He could manage the trip back to June’s. The doctor had said to take something if it became unbearable, but he could read between the lines and knew it was ideal if he didn’t have any drugs in his system come morning. Peter waited patiently while Neal collected his things, careful not to bend over or stand straight so quickly again. On their way out, the agent put his hand up on Neal’s shoulder while they waited for the elevator.

“You’re doing a good thing,” Peter stated gruffly. Neal chanced a look at the agent’s reflection in the shiny metal front of the elevator. Peter wasn’t looking at him, and was also smartly refusing to look in the reflection, too. The thief thought he heard what might have been pride in the older man’s voice.

“I know,” Neal said, resolutely not questioning how nice it felt to hear it from a source other than his own conscience.

~~~ ~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Part two will be coming soon.

* This is a real, ongoing problem in American healthcare. Medical experts believe it’s a combination of what Neal and Peter both suggest; specifically, there is a much smaller pool of Black and African-American donors, and some doctors also believe that, due in significant part to the transnational nature of the slave trade, people who are Black may have comparatively more racially mixed genetic combinations, making it harder to find close matches.

Blood cancers include leukemia (common in children), Hodgkin’s lymphoma (common in adults), and a number of other variations, including multiple myeloma, as the reader has in this story. In addition to treating blood cancers, bone marrow donation can also treat some immunodeficiency disorders and aplastic anemia. If you haven’t already, and are in good health, please consider being added to a national bone marrow registry to potentially help save a life.

* While this is true, for the sake of the story I shortened the waiting period significantly. It is usually at least a year, according to the resources I could find online.

#white collar x you #white collar x reader #white collar #lawmen and conmen #you #reader #y/n #two-parter #fanfic #story #part one #25% #no romance #peter burke #neal caffrey #gen #cancer #sickfic #requested #anonymous #anon

[sukirichi]

jujutsu kaisen characters as students in high school: (non-canon AU)

featuring: itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, getou suguru, & ryoumen sukuna notes: some parts include you as their friend, or even their high school love! (this is unedited/ not proofread)

masterlist ! requests are open 

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

he’s not the brightest bulb, but he makes up for it through hardwork and enthusiasm

yuuji is literally that classmate everyone is just friends with

the type who waves with a smile, saying “good morning!” the moment he walks through that door

with that being said, since he’s everyone’s friend, i headcannon that yuuji doesn’t really have a best friend because he’s so open and available to everyone it’s hard to have just a one on one conversation with him

not to say he’s always surrounded by a crowd that you can’t get near him, but everyone likes talking to yuuji

he just fits in so well and understands people 

kind of like how he easily clicked with junpei (please, i miss him, i still can’t believe that he’s...you know...)

whether it’s the guys raving to him about sports

or girls shyly talking about their crush on class or about that new shojo manga

yuuji is open to anything and everyone. this boy wears his heart on his sleeve and he’s honestly such a precious boy, please be kind to him <3

the type of student that gets called to answer in class but isn’t shy to admit he doesn’t know the answer while rubbing the back of his neck

he does pay attention tho

i think it’s canon that yuuji is a dedicated man, like from that time he just watched movies straight and kept his cursed energy controlled so the cursed corpse would stop hitting him

overall, yuuji is a very hard working student! 

he wouldn’t get over the top grades, but he’s really proud of himself (and he should be!)

also that one kid in class that is surprisingly good in sports despite his lanky figure and laid back persona, because all the other sports-craved people are always flexing or challenging other captains 

but plot twist, this boy is ripped and very, beautifully kept in trim

yeah he’s not really into club activities that much

not because he hates them, but he’s just not that into it. he’s more than glad to join in whatever activities though and enjoys them, but if asked what he’d like to do, it wouldn’t be that first thing that came to mind

in conclusion: itadori yuuji is the class sunflower that lights up everyone’s day  🌻

yuuji’s role: the hard worker! 

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

hands down, megumi is THAT student

if you’re volunteering in the library, you can sure as hell guarantee you’ll see megumi there

he doesn’t like studying in class because it’s too noisy, so if he’s in school, you’ll always see his name in the library logs

he’s that kid that aces all exams

the type to scowl when he sees a 96% mark because he’s expecting a perfect mark

okay before you come at me, i’m not saying megumi is that annoying smart kid in class that goes, “Oh, I’m so dumb, just a 96?”

no he’s more frustrated at himself because he knows he studied hard and lost sleep over it. he’s just wondering where he went wrong. he has literal note cards and customize flash cards on an app on his phone, waking up every four am and probably taking supplement classes after regular school hours

i headcannon that megumi is someone who always wants to do his best and actually goes through lengths to prove his worth

maybe it stems from having the need to show who he really is and what he’s capable of

but yeah i can totally see him doing that

also that cute student that keeps visiting the cafe every saturday morning, wearing a black hoodie and headphones tucked in, his pretty hands nestling over a book

he looks like a gamer but honestly i don’t think he’s got time for that lmao

would also be that guy people find hard to approach because of his quiet and reserved self

he’s pretty intimidating too

definitely sits beside the window at the back of the class. you can’t fight me on that

just because he’s smart and loves studying, it doesn’t mean he’ll sit on the front row and raise his hand every damn second

the teachers will encourage him to participate in class a little bit more, especially after seeing he’s awkward during group activities, but megumi just really prefers to do things by himself

i also headcannon him eating in the cafeteria like everyone else instead of having his alone time during a rooftop? like idk i can’t picture megumi completely isolating himself like that

he blends in well in a way that you know he’s just like everyone else; a human

but he also stands out in the manner that he’s a lot more introverted and reserved compared to everyone else

surprisingly good during sports and relay games

100% reliable

the type to stay up at midnight to finish a group project, sighing because his groupmates doesn’t care as much as he does, but turns it in anyway the next day

he’d be annoyed at them, but he doesn’t really like confrontation so he doesn’t out them to the teacher like that

but he’s also not someone who lets people walk over him, so he’ll simply say something about his groupmates becoming more responsible and to be serious for once as a “warning”

and yeah, he may be closed off, but once you get really close with him (even better if you have similar interests) you’ll find there’s a lot more to him than what you’ve originally seen and he’s actually a pretty great friend and supportive classmate

would teach you instead of just letting you copy his work or snap pictures of his notes

ugh he’s so responsible and morally right and that’s so attractive help

in conclusion: fushiguro megumi is the hidden gem  💎

megumi’s role: the intellectual outsider!

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

man...i don’t know how to start this

i’ve said this about megumi, but gojo is also that student

no, in fact, he’s THE student

everyone loves him. literally everyone

the teachers? smitten

his classmates? in love

the school guard? calls him by his first name

the cleaning lady? turns into a star with the way she lightens up when he’s there

the cafeteria staff? yeah free food because he’s gojo satoru

gojo is what i like to call the “one who has it all” because....well, he kind of does

he’s really smart and talented, which comes as a surprise to everyone in the first day of school when he nearly gets kicked out for falling asleep in class

only for everyone to be shocked that he knows the answer already and the teacher is only discussing chapter 1 lmao

yeah he’d be that kid who always sleeps in class

or is playing games on his phone behind an open textbook

he literally doesn’t listen to what the teacher is saying at all - or at least that’s what he wants you to think

man is a god at multitasking and his seatmate would snicker because he’s crushing his enemies at a phone game, but then gojo coolly corrects the teacher about history or something

he’s pretty laid back tbh

but when he’s got everyone’s attention on him? ofc he’d show off

basketball meats are wild. even students from neighbouring schools would visit just to see gojo play - and he’s not even an official member! the coach just asked him to replace a sick player but boy won that champion shot

omg BASKETBALL PLAYER GOJO I CAN’T

but he pretty much excels at everything

except cooking class, gosh, don’t ever bring this man anywhere near a fire. that’s probably the only thing that really got him to detention this time because he always somehow talks himself out of getting that red card with his words and charm

also that kid that would receive lots of confession letters, chocolates, and random gifts in his shoe lockers

he knows he’s handsome and he’s not shy about it. in fact, he’s shameless when it comes to his allure on people

but he also doesn’t really date anyone (it’s canon this man won’t stay loyal to a single woman lmao)

if he and megumi were classmates, they’d be sort of rivals

megumi would always come on top of class, but gojo is just a breath away from the former’s perfect marks. if it only weren’t for megumi’s squeaky clean record and reputation - whereas satoru’s is TAINTED as heck - and the fact that gojo doesn’t really study as much as gumi, then yeah he’d also be top of the class if he wanted to

on a much more serious note,,,gojo acts like nothing really bothers him and he’s simply that effortless

but i feel like he grew up with tutors from a very young age and that’s how his natural intelligence was just further improved and increased with that type of environment in his childhood

and unlike megumi, i don’t think gojo would really have a set goal in mind on who he wants to be or what he wants to do in the future

he’d just be enjoying the moment <3

in conclusion: gojo satoru is the effortless god!

satoru’s role: the lazy king everyone is envious of 

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

the playboy

you can’t argue with me on this one

he just is, i feel it deep in my SOUL he just is

moment he walks in, all classy and suave aura and all, you can honestly smell and taste the amount of confidence that drips from him

probably came from a well-off family

probably the mayor’s kid lmao and he’s been used to the attention ever since he was young

much like megumi, he’s not really the type to show off his intelligence

and similar to gojo, people are surprised he’s actually got them brain cells just because everyone is more focused on his appearance first

like who would expect this tall hunk beautiful beast of a man with long hair and piercings actually liked classic novels and could effortlessly recite sonatas and poems in different languages

yeah i headcannon that getou is an intellectual, cultured man

ofc having long hair and piercings isn’t allowed in his school, but because he’s geto and the school knows about his family’s influence, they just let it slide

probably comes late to school too

he eats in the cafeteria, but you don’t really see him indulge much. some days, he’ll have his own fancy bento box prepared by a family chef, but geto is actually pretty simple and humble that he also buys packed bread or canned coffee 

takes the library volunteer by surprise when he drops by one friday after class to borrow an old classic novel that even your professors had a hard time analysing

but geto’s like, “oh this? yeah i last read it when i was thirteen, thought i’d read it again”

IDK WHY but I can see him as sort of breaking the rules when it comes to the school uniform

top three buttons of his shirt open when he’s feeling hot or something

doesn’t really keep his tie that tight too

but overall, geto is a composed and well-put together guy

i just can’t picture him slacking when it comes to his appearance, he’s too fancy and pretty for that

he’s also similar to megumi in a way people find it hard to approach them, but most definitely, geto also receives confessions often 

i can see him dating someone after being interested in someone in school and actually being serious with them unlike gojo

then they would be “that” couple that’re just so couple goals

not the type that goes overboard with pda and pulls off the angry face emoji when they hear someone talking about them and they’re like, “NO HE’S MINE”

okay that’s cringe but i legit witnessed that way too many times in high school yall cant blame me lmao

but they’d be more like the chill laid back couple that supports each other in everything and you can just tell they have a happy, healthy relationship

(oh to be getou’s girlfriend in high school and his first love and all his firsts)

in conclusion: getou suguru is the unpredictable!

getou’s role is: that one classmate you really admire but he’s so far out your league but he’s genuinely a good guy anyway so you’re happy for him no matter what <3

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

okay okay hear me out but...the stoner

i really can’t see him any other way guyssss

and if you’re his classmate, you most likely wouldn’t see him that much either

dude is like 2-3 years older than everyone in class and he doesn’t give a shit about it

he’ll come like...once a week, if he’s in the mood enough

teachers don’t even bother scolding him for his tattoos anymore because there’s rumours going around he’s the son of a yakuza leader or that he’s a gangster who sells organs or some creepy dark stuff

ofc he doesn’t do that

he just does drugs and gets drunk at most

sukuna doesn’t really have that much friends either. yeah he parties with people and often gets high with some older kids, but he doesn’t genuinely enjoy their companies either

would totally come to school with his uniform unironed

red-eyed from his high and naps at the back of the class, making the teacher soften their voice in fear of waking him up

also doesn’t have a pen or paper

i mean...he doesn’t even bring a bag

fails the exams all the time, making him repeat year by year, and he’s even known for beating his senpai up for something stupid and sending the guy to a hospital where he stays for two weeks

but on the other hand

he’s also freakishly attractive and surprisingly easy to talk to

you probably bumped into him one time and you profusely apologize, but then he notices something about, something odd like, “did you just cut your hair?”

“uhm yes...you noticed?”

sukuna shrugs lazily, “noticed something was different, but whatever. it looks good on you though.”

he’s just soooo nonchalant most of the time, it’s hard to believe he’s actually pretty violent

but yeah this man has anger issues i’m sorry

but with that speaking, i actually don’t see sukuna as a bully with like a gang of his “followers” or that type of jazz

he’s more like the kid that hides under the bleachers or gets high in a storage room while everyone else is occupied with school festivals

it’s a shock he even came, but sukuna just says “free food is always a gift” but ofc it’s not free food...he just steals from the stalls

now here comes the fun part

so now that we know sukuna pretty much is a hopeless case...suddenly, he isn’t? maybe he meets you, the class volunteer who goes out of their way to visit his shabby apartment just to hand him his class work that he’s missed out on

he obviously disses you at first and ignores you, telling you to get lost

but somehow your kindness and persistence has him breaking

now he starts coming to school often, carrying a pack of gum or mint pops because he smells like weed and he’s slightly conscious of himself

this is supposed to be just them being students in high school, but i could honestly sukuna changing colors once he just gets a better grasp of what would be good for him

or maybe something finally interests him and gives answers to his silent questions

i feel like he’s such a troubled kid and just lacks proper care and attention, but once you become his friend and show him you don’t have bad intentions, he’s actually a loyal and decent guy

and when you two finally get close, you eventually gain enough courage to tutor him. sukuna is actually pretty smart too, he just doesn’t like studying, but when you compliment him, oh man, he melts

“yeah, you actually got that right! i told you you could do this!”

tsk,” he scoffs, “that’s all kindergarten shit.”

“if it is, then why haven’t you graduated?”

“shut the fuck up.”

although he sneers, you and sukuna have gotten close enough that you know both of you don’t mean anything bad behind those words and it’s all light hearted teasing

oh and when you ask him to take a picture with you for “high school memories?”

sukuna is disgusted

“get that thing away from my face - did you just take my photo?”

“yeah, you look pretty cute here! i’m so printing this and putting this in my album.”

sukuna is about to scold you even more, but the thought of you putting your photo together - even when he’s frowning in the picture - in something as sentimental as a photo book really has him softening up

would even try - keyword is try - to study more just so you’d stop frowning when you see his paper covered in red marks all over again

and he’d even try cutting down on his weed for the sake of his “health”

ofc he won’t suddenly - or ever, even - become the amazing student megumi is

he’ll still get into trouble because he’s impulsive and has poor coping skills, also he’s not good with words or dealing with his emotions

but on his good days, he’s a pretty funny guy

it just takes a lot to see that side of him, but it’s worth the time and patience

also i was expecting to write funny scenarios or imagines of stoner! sukuna because he’s too high to even hold a proper conversation sometimes but all i got is him saying weird words like “snail trap” or something when you ask him how his day is

would also have that garbled little laugh when he’s so out of it

sukuna will try to be better though, you just need to be patient him

but my GOSH when he finally graduates

he’s going to hide that little smile because deep down, he’s also pretty proud of himself and how far he’s come <3

lol now this makes me want to writer a high school au lololol

in conclusion: yeah he’s the stoner with a good heart 

which is so not canon...this shouldn’t even be a headcanon we know ryoumen sukuna is PURE EVIL but oh well maybe when I’m down from my sukuna high I’ll write him a lot more canonically

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #gojo satoru #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk gojo #gojo imagines #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru headcanons #itadori yuuji imagines #itadori yuuji headcanons #jjk itadori headcanons #fushiguro megumi #megumi #fushiguro megumi headcanons #fushiguro megumi imagines #getou suguru #getou suguru headcanons #jjk getou suguru imagines #jjk getou suguru headcanons #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[acapelladitty]

Heisenberg/Reader fic (nsfw)

Summary: After a short meeting with Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters barely escapes ending in bloodshed, Heisenberg is keen to show you just how much he appreciates your loyalty towards him. (Warnings includes rough sex, mild knifeplay, vandalism and restraints).

Karl Heisenberg was a selfish man.

He was selfish in almost every aspect of his life, and that selfishness also extended to you and your company. It was uncommon for him to allow you to join him when meeting others on his business outside the factory, with the only exception being your regular meetings with the Duke to acquire much needed parts for his equipment and experimentations.

However, a meeting with the Duke was necessary and the only available slot he had happened to directly follow a meeting Heisenberg had already planned with fellow Lord, Lady Dimitrescu. Due to this, options were limited, and the most sensible course of action was for you to accompany him for the meeting and then for you both to attend business discussions with the Duke within his room in the castle.

Which is how you ended up seated within the grand hall of Castle Dimitrescu with Heisenberg glued by your side as you both faced down the Lady of the castle and her three adopted daughters.

“And why should I listen to you?” Dimitrescu asks, her tone haughty as she ran a hand along the hem of her closest daughters’ dress in a loving manner. Cassandra, if the hair colour was anything to go by. Her lack of attention towards yourself and Heisenberg was intentional, a mark of disrespect, and a flare of irritation ignited within your gut at the pettiness.

“Miranda’s rules, not mine.” Heisenberg shrugged, delivering the message he had been requested to, “If you’ve got a problem then take it up with her. I don’t give a shit.”

Enjoying her mothers’ attentions, Cassandra tilted her head at her sisters as she shared a contemptuous look with them at Heisenberg’s words. Their attitude was just as rotten as their creators and it did nothing to dissuade your anger as Dimitrescu responded.

“Mother Miranda should have known better than to send a child to deliver a message to me. A true Lady should not have to deal with a foolish infant who can barely lay claim to the title of Lord.”

Against your better judgement, you can’t hold back a slight snort as Dimitrescu referred to herself as a true lady. Her hate for Heisenberg was without question and that hatred had long since leaked over to yourself and while Heisenberg was somewhat protected by his status as one of Miranda’s children, you were considered lower than dirt and she had made that opinion quite clear across your shared interactions.

She didn’t like you as you didn’t like her, and that was fine.

“Keep your filthy pet under control,” Dimitrescu snarled fixing you with a pointed glare, her hand flexing almost subconsciously against her white dress, “or I will personally put it down.”

“Is she talking to me?” You ask, glancing sideways at Heisenberg and ignoring Dimitrescu as you cut off her insult, “I’m your pet? While she’s sitting there with three bags of flies she dares to call her daughters?”

A loud chuckle escaped Heisenberg’s chest as low growls from the women ricocheted throughout the room at the brazen derision.

“You DARE insult House Dimitrescu?” Dimitrescu bellowed as she stood to her full height, the looming form admittedly very intimidating, “You dare open your common mouth against us while you sit by the side of scum like him?”

“At least he has a sense of humour,” you hold her furious gaze with a steeled spine, confident that you would be protected from harm, “and isn’t a frigid bitch living in a gifted castle.”

A lot of things happened at once as the daughter closest to your position, Bela, seemingly unable to restrain her anger any longer as her mother was insulted, leapt to her feet and withdrew her scythe from within her robes.

“I’ll bleed you dry!” The rage in her eyes was clear and her sharp blood-stained teeth were on full display as she darted quickly towards the couch you occupied, swerving across a small side-table as she advanced.

She had barely crossed the empty space between you when a pained cry escaped her throat as the scythe in her hand was wrenched free of her grip, finding a new home against her throat as the sharp tip of the blade dipped into the flesh there in warning as it froze her in place. The same went for the scythes which were hidden within the robes of Cassandra and Daniela, the weapons no longer beholden to their mistresses wishes as they bowed to Heisenberg’s influence and power and assumed a betraying position against their necks.

Along the edges of the grand hall, the armoured knights rattled as the very air in the room seemed to expand and contract in anticipation. High above, the metal grating which held the windows in place flexed and shook; a clear warning which dared any of them to move.

“Back the fuck off.” Heisenberg snarled into the room, his voice easily carrying above the feral hissing of the three daughters. Having only moved his head forward slightly, his expression was mostly hidden by his positioning and wide-brimmed hat but from your place at his side you can see the rage that is simmering behind his glasses, “Get control of your bitches before I carve them into a million pieces and leave you to clean up the mess.”

The rage that radiated from Dimitrescu’s form seemed to pulse for a moment as she flexed her long claws before a hint of uncertainty crossed her expression as her eyes darted between her three daughters. Unlike herself, they were more vulnerable to attack and it was no secret that Heisenberg’s life was worth more to Mother Miranda then their own.

There was no doubt within the room that Heisenberg would kill them, consequences be damned, and Dimitrescu could not take the risk, no matter how satisfying the reward.

Sheathing her claws, Dimitrescu straightened her back and faced Heisenberg directly.

“You come into my house, brother, and threaten my daughters with violence.” Her tone was measured, the anger buried beneath cold accusation, “Bela!” She indicated to her still body with a loose hand, “Come sit by my side, daughter. This fool and his plaything are beneath us and not worth the effort it would take to drain them.”

“Yes, mother.” Bela bit out, having no interest in peace but submissive to her mothers’ wishes as always.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief as the rattling of the metal within the room subsided and the tension eased off slightly. The three scythes clatter to the ground with dramatic flair as they are released and Heisenberg rises to stand at your side, indicating you to do the same.

“You have your message,” facing Dimitrescu, he inclined the rim of his hat at her with a twisted smirk, “now do as your mother asks and make sure that it’s done in time. This meeting is over.”

Calling his hammer from the floor, it flies into his hand with ease as his free hand comes to rest on your elbow, guiding you towards the stairs in a firm grip.

“See you next week, sister.”

He calls the words over his shoulder, not bothering to spare the lady of the house a glance.

One final insult.

Passing down the stairs of the great hall, a subdued cry of rage followed by hurried footsteps and hushed voices can be heard from the space you recently vacated, and the direction of the disappearing noise suggests that Dimitrescu was retiring to her quarters.

No doubt to complain of the day’s events to her disgusting spawn.

To your side, you can sense a restless energy radiating off Heisenberg as he marches you down the stairs but before you can question him, you find your arm seized in a vice-like grasp as he pulls you into a nearby room which lies opposite the room in which you are due to attend your meeting with the Duke.

Glancing around the room, you take in the space.

It is a small bedroom, mostly consisting of one large four-poster bed which was decked out in the same extravagant nature as the rest of the castle. Overhead, a large skylight made up the centre of the ceiling with its domed shape letting in a vast amount of light while also keeping out the cold. Two sets of drawers and a vanity table make up the rest of the furniture and you turn back to Heisenberg once more to question his actions.

You open your mouth to speak but are immediately cut off by his lips on yours as his hands move to his head to pull free his hat and drop it to the floor atop his freshly discarded hammer. Pulling away for a moment, he does the same with the glasses, dropping them into the same pile before returning to your lips; his mouth insistent against yours as he bites as your lower lip demanding entrance.

“What’s this about?” You ask and a grunt escapes you as he backs you up against the wall, your shoulders connecting with the hard surface roughly as he presses a leg between your thighs.

“It makes me so fucking hard to see you stand up to that bitch,” he grunts, nuzzling his head against your neck as he inhales your smell, “a little warrior, ready to go to war with nothing but your wits.”

“I have you.” You whine back as he bites into the skin of your neck, the force enough to guarantee a mark but not enough to break skin, “I don’t need anything else. You could tear that bitch and her infested little spawn to shreds without breaking a sweat.”

At the praise he presses his body against you and you can feel the hardness against your hip.

Ah.

“So loyal,” he purrs against you, rubbing himself on your hip, “and it doesn’t go unrewarded.”

“We can’t here,” you mutter with great regret even as arousal curls low in your belly, “my biggest fan or her daughters could appear at any time and I’d rather not deal with them while you’re inside me.”

His smirk is almost feral as he pulls free his blade from the inner pocket of his coat; the same blade which never left his person as a final line of defence against possible attack. Running the blade along the hem of your shirt, you suck in a soft breath and meet his eyes, seeing your arousal reflected in his own. He had tried to get you to learn to use one for your own defence but any attempts at training barely got underway before they were lost to more carnal pursuits.

Extending his hand with a flourish, the blade sliced through the air with great force, arcing upwards as it reached its target and smashed through the skylight. The shattering of the glass was loud and you instinctively duck to avoid any of the shards as they litter the canopy of the bed and fall to the floor.

“The fly-bitches can’t stand the cold.” He explains away the act of petty vandalism, shielding your body from the glass with his own as his hand summons his knife back within his grasp, “Now, where were we…”

His hands grip at your wrists, pinning them above your head as his knife works independently at his will; the sharp blade running along the buttons of your shirt with surgical precision as it slices them off, the small buttons bouncing along the floor as they fall free to expose more of your body.

A shiver rattles through your body, a result of both the low temperature of the room as the winter winds enter through the fresh hole in the ceiling and the anticipation of events as you watch his knife slowly remove your barriers. A soft creaking from a nearby lamp holder catches your attention and you jump in surprise as the metal features flies free of the wall, coming to imbed itself around your wrists as he releases them, pinning you into place against the wall.

His knife drops to the ground as his free hands come to rest on your shirt, spreading the fabric open to fully expose your chest and his mouth is immediately drawn to your nipple as he worries the sensitive nub there between his teeth gently. It ignites a warmth in your chest that draws a low moan from your throat as you push out to meet him, encouraging him as your other nipple is rolled between his fingers to the same effect.

“Just one quick fuck,” he grunts against your chest, his hands fumbling at his slacks as he frees himself, his cock twitching in the chilled air of the room, “and then we’ll continue with our business.”

You pant as his hands grip at your slacks, carelessly thrown on before you left, and he pulls them free of you, slipping them down past your knees and allowing them to fall to the floor carelessly as he exposes your clear arousal to his sight.

Lining himself up against your entrance, he pushes in with one swift thrust and the torrid mixture of pain and pleasure rips the breath from you as you clench around him, unable to do much else. The friction is almost too much as he sets a quick pace within you, the burn spurring you on to snap your hips back to meet him as he supports your weight, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist as he sheathes himself within you.

Wriggling against him as he pins you to the wall, you almost feel as though he is trying to fuck you through the stone and the rough growling of his throat as he does so is almost hypnotic as you whine and moan around him. Your fingers grip at their restraints as they are held in place by his power and your heels dig in to the soft of his back as you encourage him on.

As you cry out your pleasure, a rough hand comes to sit over your mouth as it muffles the cries. His fingers taste of oil and metal as your tongue meets them and the familiarity of it is pleasant as you moan around his hand. His cock stretches you as always and the brutal pace seems to be hitting every nerve inside of you as arousal curls your toes and tightens within your gut.

A grunt of surprise escapes you as he lifts you free of the wall, hurling you around with ease and dropping you on the bed as he continues to rut within you. It’s almost animalistic and you can do little but wrap your legs around his hips and meet every punishing thrust as your fingers dig into the flesh of his back.

Even as you whine below him, your orgasm still manages to catch you off guard as the tight band of tension within your gut snaps as your thighs tighten around him and your feet press against his spine, sheathing him within you as you clench around him and milk him for everything he’s worth. You can feel your mess but you ignore it as you focus on finishing him but he’s not far behind and, with a savage growl, you feel his cock jerk and the warmth of his release as it burns through you.

“So fucking loyal,” he snarls against your neck while his cock continues to twitch within you, each word punctuated by a lazy thrust as his pace slows, “so willing and warm and for nothing. Just for me and no one else. Mine.”

The final word is little more than a growl and, sensing that the words didn’t require an answer, you give a low grunt of acknowledgement as you release your grip of his back and allow yourself to relax into the sheets.

The bed is soft against your back as you continue to writhe against him, ignoring the mess that you’ve just made as you both enjoy the other. The chill of the room is offset by the heat of his body as he remains atop you and you focus on the strange duality as you try to steady your heaving chest.

Finally slipping free of you, Heisenberg pauses before pulling his slacks back up to wipe the mess from his cock off on to the soft bedding; leaving a noticeable stain against the expensive fabric with a satisfied smirk as he tucked himself back in.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at the immature display, you focus on righting yourself even as your knees lock into place to keep you steady. Your hand dips to the floor to grasp at your underwear and slacks and you pull them on quickly, ignoring the mess which you both made as you cover it with fabric.

Your eyes settle on your poor discarded shirt.

“And what the fuck am I supposed to wear?” You ask, indicating the slashed-up fabric with an open palm. In the cold air, your nipples were peaked and walking about shirtless in the middle of winter was not an appealing thought.

His laughter is open and genuine as he considers his actions, “Oops, maybe should have thought about that. If you weren’t such a fucking tease then this wouldn’t have happened.”

Remaining silent, you stare him down.

“Fine,” he grunts as he shuffles his shoulders out of his coat, “wear this.” He tosses the coat in your direction and you grasp it between your fingers, the fabric still warm as it clung on to his body heat.

Slipping your arms within the coat, the first thought to grab you is that it smells like him; that is, it smells like copper and oil with a hint of spice that you are never quite able to place. The second thought is that it is very heavy against your shoulders and you straighten up fully to balance it correctly as you easily close it over your exposed chest.

As you go to leave the room, his presence fills the space behind you and you can feel him pressed against your back.

“I think I like you in my clothes.” You can feel his grin against your neck, “It makes it clear who you belong to and it makes me want to fuck you again right here and now.”

“Business before pleasure.” You purr, tightening the coat around you as you move through the doorway as you guide him to your meeting, “We can negotiate terms later.”

As fun as it would be, you had both kept the Duke waiting too long and you would rather not be around when Lady Dimitrescu discovered her vandalised ceiling and come-stained bedding.

Fic also available on AO3 @ DittyWrites

#karl heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg smut #lady dimitrescu #i really enjoyed this one i have to say #i love writing for lady d

[luna-the-moth]

Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving S/O (SFW)

I accidentally deleted the ask, but here’s what was requested: @hey-its-spades : Hello! For Levi, Lucifer, and Satan if you dont mind uwu . Mc has a knack for plants and has taken it upon themselves to put plants everywhere. ( hanging from ceilings,crawling ivy on outside walls,in the kitchen, library, even luci's study.) All the rooms look a liytle greener and None of them say anything but the student body is saying that it makes the old place look alive and home-y. It makes mc really happy.       

Oh I adore this ask! SFW, with a GN! reader. I’m assuming by student body you mean the HoL residents? Since almost nobody outside the household residents visit there. I got really carried away with Levi and the Lucifer angst as well-

My vampire poll for the OM characters

My ask box is open, but please read my rules and guidelines before requesting! Please send them in my ask box, as I can keep track of requests better.  Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving Reader (SFW)

Prologue/basics for all of them:

Ever since you came to the HoL, you decided that it was too....lifeless.

Sure, there were bright candles lighting the halls, but the house was devoid of any life, besides the brothers and Henry.

So you took it upon yourself to decorate, of course!

While many human world plants didn’t fare well in the Devildom due to the poor soil quality, Lord Diavolo had agreed to bring you enchanted soil, guaranteed to grow any plant.

Regardless of temperature or sunlight needs, whatever plant grew in that soil would flourish to its upmost potential.

Asmo had a great deal of amusement with you decorating, advising you on what colors would fit specific areas of the household, and what species of flowers would bring beautiful symbolism as well.

In the house’s entryway, you left a pair of Strelitzia nicolai (giant bird of paradise) plants, as they added a subtle flair.

With long, stemmed leaves, it contributed a touch of elegance and flair.

On the a few windowsills, you had placed Begonia rex-coltorum (Rex begonias), their dark, vivid, colors standing out.

You had planted crawling ivy on the outside walls, making the house seem more inviting.

Lucifer:

Lucifer hadn’t minded your redecoration, as it had matched well with the house’s aesthetic, adding to the beauty.

In fact, he had quite enjoyed seeing you pore over catalogues and books, deciding which one would fit the space best.

Over the next few weeks, he watched as the House of Lamentation became brighter, more colorful.

It was a nice change, he thought.

However, he was surprised when he had woken up in his study, rose bushes in the corners of his study.

Deep, red roses greeted him as he surveyed his study with a pleased smile.

It was no secret Lucifer adored roses, and he was appalled when he had first arrived in the Devildom, as the soil quality was so poor, it could hardly grow anything.

Which meant he couldn’t grow roses, one of his favorite flowers.

The fact that you had thought about him, and wanted to gift him such a beautiful display, greatly moved the stoic demon.

Making his way to one of the bushes, he took off his gloves and knelt down on one knee.

The soft, sweet fragrance immersed his senses, filling him with memories of laughter, smiles, serenity, and Lilith.

Roses were her favorite flower.

As the memories flooded his mind, Lucifer suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of longing, and his vision became blurred.

He remembered the way Lilith used to brighten up when helping him with his garden, an eager grin ever-present on her face.

The way she would make him a colorful bouquet of roses whenever Michael had given him more stressful tasks than usual.

He quickly wiped a stray tear that had fallen from one of his eyes, and calmed himself.

Taking one of the velvety flowers in his hand, Lucifer gently brought his lips to the flower head, leaving a soft kiss, almost as if it was Lilith’s forehead.

The next time you went over to his study for some tea, he brought you into his arms, bringing you close to him.

Kissing your cheek, he lets a small smile break through his usually-serious facade.

“Thank you for the roses, my love. They compliment my study’s aesthetic nicely.”

Placing a small kiss on your neck, he smirked.

“Perhaps I can thank you with a date tonight?”

Leviathan:

Levi actively enjoyed watching you redecorate the HoL.

It was like one of his favorite games, The Grims! (Yes that was a terrible pun for The Sims.)

He had listened with interest as you went off on the best plants that would fit his aesthetic, and would match well with water.

What caught his attention, was when you brought up the topic of bio luminescent plants.

Of course, they weren’t naturally grown in the human world, but scientists had recently found a way to genetically modify tobacco plants.

In doing so, they had spliced the genes with four fungus genes related to bio luminescence, then carefully cultivated them.

From a seedling to maturity, the plants presented a small glow, visible to the naked eye.

The gene modification had no harmful effects on the plants, and the only difference between the lab-modified plants and wild plants, were height.

The entire time you had explained the plant’s origins passionately, Levi sat in awe, watching as you had gestured your hands in an excited fashion.

So this is what you meant when you had said you enjoyed him being so passionate about an anime or game.

At first, Levi had thought you were merely exaggerating to cheer him up, but as he looks at you now, eyes shining with delight, he understood.

You decided that since you were decorating the HoL, you would decorate Levi’s room as well.

You didn’t have access to the bio-luminescent plants, but you decorated his rooms to the nines nonetheless.

So, you had pooled together your money and resources, to create a mini lily pond for him!

You had miraculously gotten him out of the house, for a cosplay con, in which you had ‘accidentally’ forgotten to buy yourself a ticket.

Which we all know is a lie, you had just not bought one for yourself in order to stay at home, assembling the pond with Solomon’s help.

It was small, enough to fit around 6-7 lily pads/lotuses.

You had carefully grown the lily pads in your room, watching as they eventually bloomed into light, almost ethereal flowers.

By the time Levi came home, you had just finished cleaning up, getting the mud washed from your hands and arms.

Upon seeing the lily pond, Levi’s eyes were wide with amazement and shock.

You created and did this, for him?

Absolutely sets down his handfuls of merch, (gently, mind you) and silently steps over to you.

He does his best to hug you like in anime, wanting you to know how much he appreciates this.

Yes, it may be awkward, but it warms your heart knowing that he stepped out of his comfort zone, just to thank you.

He’s too embarrassed to say it while looking at you, but you can hear his voice as he rests his head against yours.

As he pulls away, a blush is evident on his face, his head turned to the side as he awkwardly places his hand against the back of his neck.

“T-thank you, Y/n. It’s a b-beautiful lily pond.”

Satan:

He fully supported your botanical excursion

After all, he’s always had an affinity for plants.

Whether it be for potions, poisons, or mere decor, Satan had a green thumb, through and through.

If his room weren’t full of books, scriptures, and all sorts of literature, he’d fill it with various plants.

So when you had announced that you were going to re-decorate the HoL with various flora, he was buzzing with excitement.

He gathered every human botanical book he knew of, and started leaving them for you on your desk.

Within a week, you had stacks upon stacks of books, knowledge ready at your disposal.

And so you began to research.

Satan was considerate to leave footnotes in a few of them, like what type would pair well with what color schemes, etc.

You smiled while reading through them, seeing Satan’s elegant handwritten flow across the pages.

Within a few weeks, you had skimmed through the books, thoroughly reading a handful of them.

After ordering the plants you wanted on Azukon, (courtesy of Lord Diavolo’s credit card-) you were eagerly anticipating their arrival.

Especially because a few ‘special items’ were in the package.

After all, you wanted to thank Satan properly for his help.

When the various flora arrived, you had carefully cultivated each of them, encouraging their growth.

Satan had assisted you, monitoring their progress, and making sure none of his brothers ruined them.

The following weekend, Satan had a student council meeting planned, as did the rest of the brothers.

Which left you with the perfect opportunity to set up Satan’s gifts.

In his room, you had placed Senecio rowleyanus (string of pearls) plants, their bright green globes spilling over the bookshelves.

Along with that, were lavender candles, with dried lavender crushed inside.

After all, Satan had always (usually) been the most level-headed out of his brothers, despite his title.

He’s much more than the avatar of wrath, and has gone through painstaking time and trials to overcome that.

That’s why you had picked lavender, which without a doubt, would be noticed by Satan.

When he had come back from the meeting, he was already in a pissy mood, as things didn’t go as planned, ending in an argument between the brothers.

However, when he stepped into his room, seeing lavender candles lit, and garlands of plants over the bookshelves, he immediately broke out in a smile.

A real, genuine smile.

Seeing you sitting on his bed, lavender candles lit, plant garlands stringing down from the bookshelves, it was almost like one of the romance novels he had read...

Quickly, he scooped you up in his arms, spinning you until you were laughing for him to stop.

Finally setting you down to gently kabeddon you, he playfully kisses the corner of your lips.

“Thank you my love, these are absolutely beautiful. I shall preserve these for all eternity.”

#my writing #obey me #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x reader fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me scenario #obey me headcanon #obey me angst