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#sorry but he wants to die too much for it to ever happen
faetima · 3 days
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THE AVEN + HANAHAKI THING YESSS I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR SO LONG BECAUSE LIKE. I know it's always super angsty when it's the reader that gets hanahaki but rine having it. imagine pushing your s/o away because you don't think you can do a relationship rn just to get hit by the stupid idiot in love disease. damn sucks to be you man
(tbh hanahaki as fun as the angst is I love aventurine so much and usually just alter hanahaki to be like less deadly because a) I DONT WANT TO BE SAD and b) the whole guilt of "I developed hanahaki because of you now love me or I WILL die" feels strange to me)(but also yum angst and the consequences of pushing someone away) ((sorry I talk a lot teehee okay bye))
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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠. .
. . too bad he wasn't your darling anymore.
// tws ; slight cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au 
a/n: finally wrote the aventurine exes hanahaki au lol ,, had no idea how to finish this but i might make a part 2 !! :3
ever since you had started dating aventurine, you felt like you were a burden to him in some way. but you were never sure if you were actually a burden to him, or if that was your mind playing tricks on you.
but last week had just solidified your beliefs.
you both had fought over something petty--you couldn't be bothered to remember what it was--and harsh words had been thrown around in the process.
words that cut deep into you, practically making you bleed out.
and after that?
aventurine had ignored you for the rest of the entire week. he hadn't even glanced in your direction. it was fine if he needed some space to think, but he didn't even tell you, he just started fucking ignoring you.
your efforts to talk to him had just been met by blank uninterested violet eyes.
everything that happened in the last week had all led up to yesterday.
you stood in front of his door, swallowing your nerves. why were you so nervous?
after everything that happened, everything you felt, everything he said, you didn't think you could handle a relationship at that point.
so, when aventurine answered the door, his blonde hair unruly and lavender eyes tired, you took a deep breath and finally said the words you had been so scared of saying.
"i want to break up."
--
now, you were rethinking your decision.
on one hand, it felt like a large weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
on the other hand, breaking up with him had left you in your current predicament: crouched on the cold tiled floor of your apartment, hurling up bright yellow marigolds. you coughed them up, unwillingly watching as they hit your newly polished floor. they hit the ground ungracefully, clumped together with a disgusting mixture of mucus and blood. you gagged on the flowers as the sickly sweet smell of the marigolds hit you, making you feel lightheaded and sick to your stomach.
you didn't think you would get the disease again after aventurine asked you out.
you had it once, albeit briefly. it was before you had even talked to aventurine, too scared to do so. maybe it had been your shyness, or maybe you were just scared of rejection. you weren't too sure which, but it had caused you to cough out a few lemon yellow petals.
but, as quickly as the disease had started, it had ended. aventurine talked to you and started getting close to you, and your hanahaki had eventually diminished into nothing. after that, you thought it would never start again.
but you guessed you were wrong, since the disease decided to plague you.
marigold petals--slick with mucus--fell out your mouth as you coughed your lungs out. they fell almost gracefully onto the small flower pile.
you took fast and shaky breaths, collapsing. you were too exhausted to move, the hanahaki sucking all the life out of you.
--
it had been a week now, and the disease had just gotten worse. at this rate, it would only take a month or two until you suffocated on the fucking marigolds.
you could talk to aventurine, but he would probably just ignore you again.
you could get the surgery, but you would rather die than forget aventurine. you still loved him.
at this point, you couldn't do anything but hope that the disease would just somehow go away.
--
aventurine was growing increasingly worried as the days passed.
he hadn't seen you at all after you had broken up. sure, that was normal, but his gut told him something was wrong.
horrible thoughts of what could've happened to you plagued his mind, and he couldn't take it anymore.
he grabbed his keys, his coat, and headed towards your apartment.
maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but even your friends felt as if something were terribly wrong. he'd just check on you once, and never speak to you again. you'd be okay with that, right?
--
aventurine had knocked about a dozen times by now, but had received no answer.
he swallowed. he still had a spare key to your apartment, but what if you didn't want him to come in? what if you were just busy? what if he was breaching your privacy?
he took a shaky inhale.
fuck it.
--
he stepped inside your apartment, and was hit by the extremely potent smell of marigolds.
he glanced around, and froze at what he saw.
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For All Eternity
So much for the planned fic...anyways here you all go, some angst with fluff and comfort at the end!
Summary: Astarion gets badly injured and you nurse him back to health.
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The fight started like any other fight usually did, with you doing all you could to avoid one until there was no other option, and then Karlach would happily charge in, swinging her mighty axe to cut the enemies down. Astarion would hide in the shadows, waiting for the perfect opportunity to put a bolt through flesh and you would incinerate whoever was left standing from afar while Shadowheart supported everyone from the backline.
Unfortunately, today’s fight turned out differently. A deurgar had spotted Astarion and went straight for the vampire, bringing its greatsword down to cleave through undead flesh. A cry slipped from Astarion’s lips, alerting you and your companions to what had just happened. Karlach immediately went to work clearing a path to him for you, hacking and slashing at any duergar who came close whilst you ran, faster than you’ve ever run before with the Weave crackling at your fingertips, ready to be unleashed.
Astarion barely manages to roll out of the way of the next blow, hissing when his injured shoulder makes contact with the hard ground and staggers to his feet. He can feel the blood flowing down, seeping through his fingers as he tries to staunch the bleeding to no avail. He messily dodges the next attack but the third connects once more, this time tearing open his thigh. He collapses against the stone wall behind him, painting it red with his blood and he wonders if it’s possible for a vampire to die of blood loss. He’s definitely never heard of one going out in such a way. The thought that he might be the first one to do so brings a sardonic smile to his face, at least he’d go out in a special way.
The duergar snarls in victory and swings again, ready to end the fight when a fireball flies out of nowhere, incinerating it before its blade can land.
“Astarion!” He vaguely hears you call. His vision is getting blurry, he can barely see the charred corpse of the duergar in front of him and he starts to get a little worried. Was he going to die right in front of you? That would be a terrible way to go. You’d cry until you had no more tears left to give, that pretty face of yours all scrunched up and tear-stained. He didn’t like that thought, he’d want you to not be around when he died, he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the hurt he’d caused you by dying.
“Astarion!” Your voice is louder now. You must be close, maybe right in front of him but he can barely see, with black spots eating up more and more of his vision.
“Astarion, look at me! Don’t die on me!” He wonders how shit he looks right now, with his own blood all over him. His armour must be painted in his own crimson liquid, a sorry sight to be certain. For a moment, he wishes you weren’t here to see him in such a state but then the fresh scent of your blood floods his nostrils and all he can think about is how hungry he is.
Instinctively, he opens his mouth and lets the blood in, swallowing every drop that comes his way. He hears you let out a sigh of relief and you swim into view as his body heals itself back up with the aid of your blood that is now coursing through his veins.
“Y/N,” he says tiredly, sending you a grin even as his body struggles to keep upright.
“You scared me,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around him.
“I’m a vampire spawn, I’m supposed to scare you.” Even when exhausted, the snark never stops.
“Not you though.” You whisper into his ear, burying your face into his hair. “I’m so relieved I got to you in time.”
“Me too,” he murmurs, feeling his eyelids close. Your embrace feels nice as always, warm, soothing, filled with so much love and care that he starts to slip into unconsciousness, spurred on by his body’s demands to rest and recover.
“Astarion?” He hears the slight panic in your voice. He wills his mouth to open, to reassure you with his honeyed words that everything is alright and he’s just going to take a nap but his mouth refuses to cooperate. His body feels heavy, keeping anything open takes everything he has and he’s losing this fight.
“Astarion please, stay awake, stay with me!” He can hear you beg, beg for him to open his eyes, to look at you, to say something. He does, he really wants to do all those things but his damn body won’t cooperate, and suddenly, he’s seized by this fear that he may never see you again, never feel your touch again, never hear your laugh again.
No. No. He will not let that happen. He can’t lose you, he hasn’t taken his revenge on Cazador yet, he hasn’t told you that he loves you yet, he can’t just roll over and die. Still, his body shuts down and he feel his consciousness slipping away. Fear grips his heart as he struggles against the exhaustion but in the end, he loses.
“Astarion!”
When he next opens his eyes, new scents flood his nose. He can smell medicine, residual blood and…
Something brushes against his arm, causing him to turn his attention to whatever it was at his side. A messy mop of hair obscures the figure’s face but he knows its you, how could he not? All those nights spent running his fingers through that mop of hair, sweat and saliva exchanged, he knew you inside and out, just like how you knew him to the same degree.
He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. His throat refuses to produce the sound, demanding instead for sustenance, for blood.
“Astarion, you’re awake.”
He never gets tired of the way his name rolls off your lips. He could listen to it all day but you’d probably get bored of doing that for a whole day so he settles for simply listening to your voice all day instead.
You slice open your wrist, pressing the wound to his lips and he drinks from it thirstily, swallowing huge gulps at a time. The liquid washes down his throat, wetting it and sends new waves of energy surging through his body, breathing life back into it.
Its at this point he usually stops drinking, ensuring you didn’t die from blood loss but you don’t pull away, neither do you show any sign of wanting him to stop. He stops anyways, not wanting to be the cause of your death and looks at you quizzically when you press the still bleeding wound to his lips once more.
“Drink,” is all you say, in a firm tone that leaves no room for discussion. He obliges, still worried about your health but then Shadowheart comes in with a tray of healing potions and you take a swig from one of them.
You really were going to keep yourself topped up by chugging healing potions.
Normally, Astarion would warn you against doing so but his body desperately wants blood, and you were willing to provide so he continues drinking, taking short breaks in between to ensure you didn’t suddenly collapse or anything. He didn’t want to face the wrath of the party members outside should he be the cause of your death, not that he wanted you to die from him drinking your blood in the first place.
At last, his hunger is satiated and he licks the wound, signalling that he has no more need of your blood for the time being. You withdraw your arm, finishing off the bottle of healing potion to allow the wound to close and turn back to face him, checking him over.
“I’m quite alright, darling. No need to fret.”
“Just checking.”
“Thank you for your concern, love, really, but would you be so kind as to not look at me as if I were on death’s door?”
“You were just moments ago!”
“If I recall correctly, being undead means I’m already dead. Therefore —”
“You had me worried sick! I thought you were going to die!” Tears prick the corners of your eyes. Astarion swallows whatever he was going to say, his mind racing through all the possible ways of consoling you.
“I…I…” The words lodge themselves in your throat, your saliva thick with tears as you struggle to put your jumbled thoughts into words.
“I don’t want to lose you,” you sob. “Back then, when I saw the duergar about to swing his sword down, all I could think about was that I didn’t want to lose you. I didn’t want you to leave me, I wanted you by my side, I wanted you with me.”
He holds you close, feeling your tears stain his clothes but he doesn’t care. He lets you cry, releasing all your pent up frustrations in one go and simply hugs you tightly.
“I’m…sorry, for worrying you,” he murmurs, the apology meant only for your ears. You bury your face deeper into his shoulder in response, fingers gripping tightly onto his shirt. He breathes in your raw scent, unearthed by your lack of a bath and whispers how much he loves you in all the ways he knows how without using the word ‘love’.
“Promise me, that you won’t pull such a stunt again?” You plead, looking into his ruby red eyes with your tear-stained ones.
“I promise, love. You will have me for all eternity.”
“And I promise too, that you will have me for all eternity.”
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Hi, sorry to ask but have you written any fanfics where Jerry is autistic? I've read your autistic!morty fic and thought that was excellent. I'm trying to find Jerry-centric fanfics where he isn't mischaracterized/demonized. (Way too many people write Jerry as transphobic which -_-ll no he isn't)
Hi, no need to apologise! I haven't written any autistic Jerry fics and I'm not sure if I know of any (if anyone else does, please leave recs on this post!). I do 100% view him as autistic though. Thank you!
Yeah honestly Jerry being portrayed as transphobic is something that bothers me as a trans guy? I headcanon him as supportive but clueless/cringe at times (he a little confused but he got the spirit).
I do have a trans Morty WIP with a scene between Morty and Jerry, although Morty is still very early on in figuring out that he might be a guy, and Jerry kind of knows something is up but assumes Morty is a lesbian rather than a trans guy and so kind of fumbles but ultimately is trying to be supportive/nice. Morty does worry about Jerry not loving him anymore if he's trans, although this is Morty's POV rather than being objective/a thing that actually happens.
I'll leave the scene below the cut in case anyone's interested. Warnings for mention of periods (and them being referred to in a gendered way), fear of transphobia from parents, accidental misgendering (and misgendering/deadnaming of Morty in the text since this is only the very start of Morty's gender questioning).
“Morti? Rick said you’re sick. Are you OK?” Jerry opens the door. Morti quickly shoves her phone under her pillow. Thankfully, her dad is as oblivious as ever as he walks over and rests a hand against her forehead.
“You don’t feel warm. Is it, uh, you know,” Jerry points down towards his own abdomen, “woman troubles?” he asks in an exaggerated stage whisper. Morti wants to die all over again. She presses her face into her pillow.
“Hey, sweetheart, i-it’s OK.” Morti feels Jerry rest a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Do you need anything?”
Morti takes a few deep breaths to calm herself and then sits up.
“N-no, Dad, I’m OK.”
“OK, honey.” Jerry wraps his arms around her and Morti can’t help but wonder if he would still hug her like this if he knew what she’d spent the past couple of hours reading about. She hugs him back tightly, suddenly unable to stop thinking that she might have to make the most of the affection while it lasts.
When Jerry pulls back, his face clouds with concern and Morti realises she’s once again been crying. She’s getting really sick of that.
“Morti, honey, what’s wrong?”
Morti feels the question writhing around in her gut until it chokes its way out of her mouth. “Dad… you’d love me no matter what, right?”
“Of course, sweetie. No matter what, you’ll always be my daughter.”
The words are meant to be a comfort, but all Morti can think about is the possibility that she’s not his daughter.
“Morti? Are you gay? It’s OK if you’re gay, you know.” As always, Jerry is well-intentioned but clueless. Truthfully, Morti’s not really put much thought into her own sexual orientation, and it’s not her main concern right now. She shakes her head, and Jerry looks doubtful but leaves it. 
After a few minutes, Morti works up the courage to speak again. “Dad? Could-could you… tell me a story? Like when I was little?” she cringes as she says the words, knowing she’s far too old to be asking for something like that. To her relief, Jerry smiles.
“Sure thing, sweetie.” 
He launches into an improvised story, very similar to the ones she remembers him coming up with when she was younger. She has a memory of Summer complaining Jerry’s stories were boring, always demanding more action. However, once Summer had aged out of wanting a bedtime story and left Morti as the sole listener, Jerry had settled comfortably back into his original stories, which Morti found calming and reassuring. 
Her dad’s voice relaxes her and she rests her head against the pillow, feeling her eyelids begin to droop. Jerry’s hand rests on her hair and strokes it gently, just as he used to all those years ago. It’s enough to block out the negative thoughts for the time being, and Morti is so exhausted from the recent events that she soon drifts peacefully into sleep.
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sednonamoris · 6 months
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is john price doomed? yes. but personally i think he’s doomed to survive.
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Sometimes I think about that moment in NMH2 when Travis’s talks about how ‘despite assassins being super fucked up, are still human beings that deserve respect’ and I just… kinda get emotional over that because even though he is a pathetic loser, he’s not wrong!! He’s absolutely correct!!
Assassins are more than just tools! They are more than just bloodthirsty killers! They had lives! Dreams! Personalities! Interests!! Family!! They had things that they cared about but had no choice but to abandon them, because the life of an assassin is cruel one with constant competition. The genuine horror of it is realising that at any moment, a ranking fight would be set and on that day of the fight you’d have to accept the fact that you might not walk out the door, it’s sad!! It’s horrifying! And with each little bit of info on the assassins you get you can’t help but feel bad for them. Sure they knew what they were signing up for but that doesn’t mean they can’t have a dignified/honourable death !!
#shallow rambles#nomoreposting#the UAA should be torn down because it profits off the misery and suffering of its main employees#<- I hope that in nmh4 if it ever happens that Travis makes true on that promise to tear down the UAA.#I want Travis to tell his brother that he’s more than tool!! that he’s a human being that deserves freedom and respect and human dignity!!!#<- I never not think how much Henry’s adopted family messed him up because they only viewed him as a weapon to sharpen and not a child to#raise with love and care and affection :(((((#<- JEANE SMACKDOWN DESERVED TO BE TOLD THAT SHE CAN RELY ON PEOPLE TO SUPPORT HER AFTER#HER TRAUMA!! SHE DID NOT HAVE DO DIE THE WAY SHE DID!! SHE COULD BE LIVING A PEACEFUL HAPPY AND HEALTHY LIFE!!#SAME WITH HENRY TOO!! he deserves to have some personal closure on why his adopted family did what they did to him!! and he has every right#to cut contact with them!!#HI SORRY TIME TO THINK ABOUT THE TOUCHDOWN SIBLINGS AND CRY#thoughts on queue#queue awaits you at the garden of madness#TRAVIS!!! Travis deserved to be with his siblings in a happy and healthier environment!! while I’m happy he carved out a new found family!#he also deserves closure too!! he deserves answers as to why he was split from his siblings!! he deserved the opportunity to mend#the relationships with his siblings that were purposefully broken and taken away from him!!!#I just want a NMH story where the three siblings rebuild their lives together and give each other emotional support!!!#THEY DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER OKAY!!! I mean the whole series is bc their dad was A SHITBAG and thought it was okay to separate them
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loutrem · 1 year
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#its dumb of me but a few days ago i went with his deadname on google to see if i could see more stuff about his dead#since his friends who were alqo supposed to be my friends did a 'ceremony' together without telling me#even tho i rly wanted to go to be able to grief and to cry it out properly#so since i havent been able to grieve well i did that. search for his deadname. i just wanted to know#and i found out that a page for him was made on the tdor website. there were a ton of details on what was happening#before and after his death#many things i didnt know about. because i was a shit friend and never kept contact. and also because he was secretivz#i feel awful since then. who was i to him. why couldnt i help him. why am i even sorry for myself. he was the one suffering#i keep crying and i cant sleep at night without reading comics until i feel too tired to open my eyes#because otherwise im thinking too much about him. its just too awful. too unjust#i have. weird cravings for alcohol. ive never even drinked much before. im scared of starting to get addicted#but sometimes i wanna get somethibg anything and just drink until i pass out since people say its good to forget#i wish he were still alive. i wish i could hug him and help him. i wish id visited him in the hospital after his 1st mental breakdown#he had sent me a text to tell me he was there but i had work and i was tired and honestly too lazy to go. and now i regret it so bad#its all so unfair. death is so unfair. grief is so unfair. i was afraid i had no heart before because people who died around me didnt#phase me much. i didnt cry. but now that ive experienced the deaths of 2 actually very close people counting one i couldnt grieve forproper#i just wish i had no emotions. that i wouldnt cry when i think of them. but especially him.#and i cant stop thinking about how awful ill be when my parents die. ill be a wreck.#im just crying in my bed and its 4am. everythibg sucks. im so sorry to everyone whos ever met me. im awful#negative /#death m /#suicide m /
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etheries1015 · 6 months
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Hello! I hope your having a good day while reading this but I was wondering if you could write a fic about the housewardens reacting to their s/o koala holding them when they sleep!
Awee that's a cute idea! The house wardens with their little Koala humans heuheu.
TWST housewardens react to their s/o holding them while they sleep
Warnings: Gender-neutral reader, probably shorter than you may have hoped, I'm sorry :( But I hope you still like it!
Riddle Rosehearts
The first time you two slept in the same bed, he was caught off guard when he was suddenly engulfed by your arms. I see him as the type to sleep on his back, still and quiet, and suddenly that is disturbed by the significant other grabbing hold of his arm and utilizing half of his body to be subjected as your personal body pillow. He may find it uncomfortable initially, however, he finds a happy medium by adjusting his form to work with yours whilst still giving him a full night of proper rest. you of course weren't in control of how you slept, and was rather grateful you trusted him as much.
"Were you aware you tend to hug me in your sleep?" He chuckled, "Huh? No, I do not mind. I found a comfortable position to sleep in so that we both got what we wanted. You don't need to sleep elsewhere, I feel...strangely comforted by your embrace..."
Leona Kingscholar
you don't even get the chance to do it first, he already has you beat. He is most assuredly the first to fall asleep between the two of you, his arms are wrapped around your waist and head propped against your shoulder before you had the chance to reciprocate. HE is the koala between the two of you. However, when you wake up in the morning you find that you're now facing him, a tangle of arms and legs as if during the night you both sought to be closer to one another. One big cuddle competition. Yet it was oddly comforting, how you both slept very similarly. Sometimes you're more aggressive than he is though, with your legs bent and holding him in your grasp on the odd days you fall asleep first. It restricts his movements from being able to adjust himself the way he wants, so he isn't shy to wake you up.
"Oy, wake up. I wanna move. Eh? You're comfortable like this? I don't care, let me hold you instead."
Azul Ashengrotto
I will die on this hill when I say that Azul sleeps kind of like an Octopus in his human form, with his arms and legs spread out on the bed. it's his highest form of vulnerability and trust in you for you to sleep in the same bed as him, so of course he will want to practice the same for you. Even when you grab hold of one (or a few) of his limbs and cuddle him as if you were the koala and he the branch, he doesn't mind whatsoever. He is a very still sleeper, so he doesn't feel his movements to be constricted whenever you cuddle him in such a way.
"Do I mind the way you grab hold of me while we are sleeping? No, not at all. If I am being completely honest, it's rather nice..." He falters, "I see it as a form of affection and trust, a sign that you feel safe with me. I rather that not change."
Kalim Al-Asim
He thinks it's the cutest thing in the entire world he has ever seen. The way you grab hold of him in your sleep as if you were claiming him to be yours, he thinks it's wonderfully splendid! It's as if you were being possessive, or you found him to be a soft pillow to grab hold of at night and cuddle with. Honestly, the first time it happened, he got so excited he had to hold in his squeals of satisfaction and joy to not wake you. He revels in this, his head leaning against yours as you use your entire body to hold him close to you. Kalim honestly can't think of a cuter habit for someone he loves to have.
"When you grab hold of me at night, it's the best feeling ever! Oh oh, tonight, can I hold you instead? let's reverse the roles! I want to hold you too- Oh, you won't get a good night's sleep that way? well, that's alright! I'll be your personal pillow as much as you want! Hehe!"
Vil Schoenheit
Vil always had a strong disposition to have a good night's rest. He had his reserves about sleeping in the same bed as you for a while, however, his desire to be close to his beloved outweighed his desire for model sleep. He finds it rather cute when you are in a deep sleep and your arms and legs automatically take him in your grasp. He never thought he would be able to properly sleep with another person by his side, so he is pleasantly surprised when the soft warmth of your body actually helps him get a better rest than ever. He feels safe and at ease in your arms, a strong contrast to the craziness of his everyday life. Being in the public eye he isn't fond of PDA, so at night when it is truly just the two of you, he savors every moment you bless him with your embrace. It's a truly peaceful feeling for him, the way you cutely cuddle into his body without a care in the world about who he is, how he sleeps, and what he looks like in his vulnerable state. It's just... you and him. Nobody else. It's a very intimate time for him.
"Your sleeping habits? Hmm...well, you grab hold of me every night. What? No, it doesn't obstruct my sleep. If anything, I have been feeling much more energized in the mornings...don't overthink it and come over here, my potato. It's time for bed, and I expect to be very thoroughly cuddled."
Idia Shroud
Oh my gosh. You have claimed him. Now he can't move a single muscle, like a cat you have made him your property. If he moves even a single inch, he knows it would ruin the flow and there would be a possibility of you moving, and he doesn't want that. It's like having a cat on your chest, and the second you move even a toe, the cat decides it's tired of you and moves on. Idia doesn't mind if he looses a little bit of sleep staring at the ceiling to allow you the majority of his body to cuddle, he's never been more elated about being in the same bed as someone before. He likes it a little too much, there was one time you were scrolling on his phone to find pictures of you cuddling him at night. An entire photo album in his gallery, in fact.
"N-n-nothing! that's nothing! Don't look, it's not...it's not what you think...oh jeez, you probably think I'm a total weirdo who takes pictures of people when they sleep-- no! not other people, it's just you! I- wait. That was a trap. You set me up for failure with that comment. Ahh, this is so embarrassing...please don't stop! I...I just like it so much when you hold me tight when you sleep...ugh. I can't believe I just said that, I sound like a corny male lead. Don't read too much into it, can't a man just enjoy his significant other's sleeping habits? Jeez..."
Malleus Draconia
You don't get the chance to cling to him, when you sleep with a dragon, they decide to do that for you. When you first slept together in the same bed, he was grabbing hold of you tightly, wrapping his body to be the koala and YOU the branch. There was only one particular night when he slept with his tail free, and you grabbed hold of it in your sleep. He woke up to feeling something pressed against his tail, looking back to see you had taken upon yourself to fully engulf your arms and your legs wrapping around to match. He was fully in your trap! After that, he found a way for both of you to be happy. Holding you in his arms, he adjusted his tail to fit snuggly in the middle of you two, enough for you to grab hold of it in your sleep whilst he was simultaneously holding onto you. Malleus would have preferred wrapping his tail around your body, however seeing you so at peace with it within your grasp, he made an exception.
"Be careful, my dearest. I wouldn't want my tail to hurt you by mistake, so you must be gentle. Ah- my lockscreen? Yes, I can't help but smile every time I gaze upon this photo I had taken, so I had Diamond assist me in changing my mobile device screen. Perhaps I shall take a few more photos, you are rather adorable grasping onto me like a babe to a blanket."
~~
Link to my masterlist
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fiendishfables · 3 months
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Can I please request dom! Lucifer eating you out? I just know that man is very talented with his tongue
a/n: say less, really; short and sweet lovin' from Luci
warnings: nsfw, eating out, cursing, dom dom Luci
words: 676
additional notes: Thank you all so much for 110+ followers! It means the world to me that you guys enjoy my writing so much!
"Luxury of the King."
Dom! Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
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The white, silk sheets beneath you rustled softly. Gentle puffs of air left your lips, saliva coating their plush surface in a light layer. The familiar black dots began aligning along the edges of your vision. Chest rising and falling with erratic patterns; a light sheen of sweat adorning your brow, seeping lightly into your hairline. You felt and looked like the epitome of an absolute wreck.
And it was all because of the man who's head was currently buried between your legs.
Despite your clear state of overstimulation, he was a relentless predator. Well, his forked tongue, rather. It worked against and inside you, like you would be the last thing it ever got to taste. Flicking against you, tasting all of the sweet nectar you had to provide for him. He was determined to eat you dry.
"I-I'm sorry, darling. You just taste s-so...fuck...so damn good."
His mouth continued its assault against you, making sure to take his time and devour you all in the same set of actions.
If he could just stay in between your legs all hours of the day, oh how he could die a happy man. No worries or strife, just you splayed out for him, presenting yourself as a canvas for his tongue to travel. He gulped at the thought.
You truly were the best luxury a king like himself could have.
Lucifer knew he didn't deserve you. He always asked himself how he got so damn lucky with happening upon you, but he never got too curious upon questioning, nor greedy when it came to your services. This was enough to take him all the way to Heaven and back. What more could he possibly ask for, other than your lovely company?
He noticed how your hips were now beginning to move more, as if trying to get away from his relentless tongue. Just the thought of your sweet taste being abandoned from his warm, forked muscle made his pupils slit and eyes narrow. In response, he placed a gentle yet authoritative hand on your lower tummy, pushing your trembling hips downwards to the mattress; that's where they were to stay until he was done with you. You were a gift from Heaven he was sure, and Hell be damned if he didn't savor it. Just thinking that seemed like madness. Lucifer wanted to taste everything you had to offer him. Every. Single. Thing.
"Stay still. Don't you dare try to move away from me." He growled, voice dropping much lower than its normal octave, causing you to flinch in surprise. His head had come up and out from between your legs, almost enticing a whine from your throat at the loss of stimulation, yet a sigh of relief at the same time for the smidgen of a break you were currently being blessed with.
The sudden change in his attitude was a bit of a surprise, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't hot as hell. The puppy dog side of your boyfriend was what you were most used to, so seeing him act this way instead was a very nice change of pace. You could never be scared of him; your safe word was always at your disposal if you felt he was being too demanding or rough, and he knew it too. So unless you used it, he would continue with his advances.
You looked at him through half-lidded eyes and offered the best nod you could manage with the state you were in, letting your head fall back to its original position on the fluffed pillows, lungs grasping for any sort of air they could muster up.
He gave a low nod back, a sly smile gracing his lips as he licked around them in order to clear off the remnants of your juices that he had yet a chance to devour like the other servings he managed to obtain.
"Good..." He said with a pointy smirk, before lowering his head once again to get right back to work.
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animexts · 7 months
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Please don't die | Megumi Fushiguro
Sumarry: Megumi feels his world crumble when he sees Y/n on the brink of death.
Paring: Megumi X Mother figure!Reader | WC: 2.877
A/N: Well, I'm sorry for any mistakes I made here, I'll review it later. This story, the reader is Gojo's wife.
Main masterlist | jjk Masterlist
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Megumi feels her body freeze when she sees Y/n's body being thrown by the curse they were facing.
"Y/n-sensei!" He hears Itadori screaming in the background, but all he can pay attention to is Y/n's bleeding body lying unconscious on the floor.
“It's not your fault”
Is what she would say to him, and then she would give him that smile that manages to relax his whole body.
Y/n was a special grade sorceress, and to Megumi, she was not only the best sorceress, but also the best person.
She was smart, responsible, loving and just the best mother he could ever have.
"Why didn't you fucking take care of her?"
Megumi thinks, clenching her fists with all her strength.
He never thought he would want Gojo's presence as much as he does now.
As if his legs were moving by themselves, he was running over to Y/n and kneeling beside her body.
"Sensei please wake up." He says rocking her gently.
"Sensei please... please don't die mom." He says crying and rubbing his hand on her face.
If he was a little stronger, if he was faster, he never wanted to fulfill the promise he made with Gojo a few years ago so much.
"Listen Megumi, since we're going to share Y/n, you need to promise me that you'll take care of her with your life." Gojo says looking seriously at the Boy.
"She's strong, I don't think she needs my protection." The boy says with his arms crossed. "She's strong yes, but it turns out she'd rather protect those she loves than herself." Megumi looks at Gojo and sighs
"Okay, I promise to protect her"
And during her lifetime, Megumi saw how right Gojo was, Y/n put herself in danger several times to save him or some of the students, both first and second years.
"They're just kids"
Was what she always said.
And unfortunately, that's what was happening now, Y/n spent the day exorcising curses practically alone, as seeing how Itadori and Nobara were still hurt from the previous mission, it sure exhausted her.
"Please Mom, don't leave me too." Megumi says hugging Y/n's body.
He is so desperate, he didn't even notice Gojo coming and finally exorcising the curse.
The Shaman feels his blood run cold when he sees his wife covered in blood, it was even sadder to see Megumi in that state.
"Megumi, let's take her to shoko." Satoru says trying to take his wife from Megumi's arms.
"No! don't take her away from me!" He says holding tighter.
"Come on Megumi, if I take her it will be faster, please is my wife you're holding." Gojo says and Megumi, still reluctant, hands Y/n to Gojo, who immediately leaves.
"Don't worry, Y/n sensei Is one.of the strongest people I've ever met, well she and Gojo sensei." Itadori says putting his hand on Megumi's shoulder.
The strongest couple
Megumi remembers perfectly well only the day when Gojo introduced Y/n to him and his sister. Unlike Gojo, Y/n was responsible, more serious and easier to talk to.
"Here you are, my beautiful wife Y/n!" Gojo says putting his arm around her shoulders.
"I'm not your wife." Y/n says pushing him, and bending down to be at the children's height.
"You're not YET"
"Hi, don't worry, me and this idiot here will take good care of you two." Y/n says, and gives the kids a warm smile.
And that's what she's been doing since they met, Megumi thinks, no, rehash that, he KNEW he wouldn't be the man he is today if it weren't for Y/n's (and Gojo's, of course) incredible upbringing.
"You're worried about sensei aren't you?" Nobara says, as the three walk back to the school.
"I'm sure you don't have to worry, she's pretty tough!" Itadori says smiling.
"I hope you're right." Megumi says, and feels her palms sweat when they arrive at school, and see Gojo sitting on the stairs.
"Look who's here! It took you a while huh." Gojo says standing up and Megumi sighs in relief.
Even though he knows that his sensei is very good at hiding his feelings, he knows that the feeling of losing his wife, best friend, could not be hidden.
Gojo looks at him and sees the anguish on his face.
"She's fine, she's in there resting." He says, and Megumi's face turns red.
"I knew!" Itadori says jumping up.
"You two can go rest, Megumi and I are having a family reunion here with Miss Saves Everyone's Life." Gojo says, and he and Megumi head to their rooms.
"I'm sorry sensei, I couldn't protect her as I should have and as I promised you." Megumi says as the two walk to their rooms.
"I know how much you love her, and you tried to protect her, just like I know how stubborn my wife is, when she wants to protect someone, nobody can stop her." Gojo says and notices that Megumi has clenched her fists.
"I thought you were used to her craziness by now." Satoru says trying to lighten the mood.
"I don't think I'll ever get used to the feeling of almost losing her."
"Me neither" Gojo thinks.
Gojo knocks on the door, and opens it carefully, Megumi almost cries when she sees the state of the woman who always conveys that powerful and independent aura.
"Gumi!" Y/n speaks softly but with happiness in her voice when she sees the younger boy.
"Sensei..." He says quietly, as he doesn't trust his voice anymore.
"Oh Gumi, I was so worried about you." She says with teary eyes.
"I... I'm sorry sensei, I couldn't protect you like I should have." Megumi bows with her eyes closed, making Gojo and Y/n look at him in surprise.
"What are you talking about? I should protect you Gumi, I know I'm not your blood mother but-"
"Don't finish that sentence, you are my mother, and I owe you my life you've protected me my whole life, I want to protect you now... mom." Megumi says crying.
"Oh my love come here." Y/n says opening his arms, making the younger boy immediately fall into the woman's embrace, just like when he was younger.
"You'll always be my baby." Y/n says and kisses Megumi's head, you might think he wouldn't like it, but coming from her, he almost cries from her affection.
"I think for the sake of my sanity, and Megumi's, you better stop giving your life for others, because baby I swear that if you die, the world will gain two crazy mad sorcerers." Gojo says taking off his blindfold.
"And we don't want that right?" Y/n says laughing.
"No, definitely not." Megumi responds by laughing too.
Gojo and Y/n look at each other smiling fondly, they were doing a good job.
"Family hug!" Gojo says lying on top of Megumi.
"You're going to hurt Y/n you freak, get out of here." Megumi says trying to push Gojo away.
They weren't the most perfect family of all, but there was more love than many out there.
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Here's a lil idea that I simply do not have the time to make a full fic of, but I gotta get it out or it won't leave me alone.
Steve thinks he's in a happy, fulfilling relationship with Eddie, while Eddie's insecurities have him believing he's just a place holder for the future Mrs. Harrington.
It comes to light when Steve does something cheesy and romantic and Eddie, not able to handle it because it's too romantic, tries to joke about it like "why would you bother to put all this effort in just for me?"
And Steve like "what do you mean? You're my boyfriend and I wanted to"
And then Eddie like "yeah, no, I know that. I just don't understand why." And then he goes on a little self-deprecating rant, explaining all the ways he's not good enough for Steve, all while Steve just stares at him, brow furrowing more and more as Eddie speaks.
When Eddie finally runs out of words, Steve says, "I don't understand? What have I done to make you think this?"
And Eddie kinda blue screens. Because Steve hasn't done anything to make Eddie think this; he's been a perfect boyfriend. It's just... it's inevitable, isn't it? That Steve'll move onto to bigger, better things? Eddie says as much.
"Why?"
"Because it's- because you're Steve Harrington!"
Since Steve's brow can't possibly furrow anymore, he starts to frown now. "I still don't understand?? Why did- do you think I'm just going to be going through the checkout at Melvald's and just decide I want to marry some random woman instead of being with you?"
"What? No. It's not- I don't think you'll intentionally decide you want someone else more just randomly but, like..."
"There's no 'but' here, Eds. I asked you out because I want to be with you. You said yes because, I assume, you want to be with me, too! Was I wrong to assume-"
"NO! No! I do want to be with you!"
"Then.... you think I don't want to be with you?"
"I didn't say that."
"Sorry, it felt like you were implying it. So. If I haven't done anything to make you think I don't want to be with you, and you just said you want to be with me, then what... I don't understand where these thoughts have come from. Have you- were you just going to go through our whole relationship waiting for something bad to happen?"
And Eddie can just look down and shrug because, well, yeah. He had been thinking that. He has been waiting for the other shoe to drop. And now they're having this conversation and he's ruined Steve's sweet, romantic gesture with his own bullshit. So, even if the shoe wasn't going to drop before, it will now, because he's gone and fucked it up by putting his insecurities onto Steve and-
"What can I do to help you believe I'm in it, for as long as you want me?"
Eddie looks back to Steve then, because that's not what he expected to hear. "What?"
Steve steps closer, the furrowed brow and the frown gone, replacing it instead is the sappy look he catches on Steve's face every now and then, when Eddie's doing something particularly Eddie-ish. "Tell me what I can do to help you believe in this. In us. And I'll do it. Every day until we die."
"Steve," Eddie warbles out, surprised by his own watery voice. "I-I'm sorry. I-"
"Hush," Steve says, gentle and sure as he takes Eddie's face in his hands. "No apologies. I get it, so you don't have to apologize. Just. Talk to me, okay? Because I'm not holding out for something better. Not when you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Besides Robin."
"Besides Robin," Eddie agrees, nodding his head as much as he can in Steve's grasp. "But, uh, things like this. This helps." He gestures at the romantic candle-lite dinner slowly getting cold. There are flowers in a vase, and a cheesy little Garfield plushie sitting on the table, leaned against Eddie's wine glass. It's a Tuesday night in June and nowhere near a birthday, or holiday, or anniversary. Steve's just made him a sweet, romantic dinner just because.
"Oh good. You have no idea how much I'm restraining myself by not doing this weekly," Steve whispers before placing a kiss to Eddie's forehead, nose, then lips. "Now. Let's eat dinner before it gets too cold."
And it might take a while, for Eddie's insecurities to fade, but Steve keeps being Steve, which means perfect if not a little snarky, and then the next thing Eddie knows, it's been several decades and Steve will walk with him hand in hand to the courthouse and stand in line for hours to quickly get married. (They'll spend another two years planning the actual wedding because Eddie's dramatic and Steve's a perfectionist.)
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flowercrowngods · 3 months
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who did this to you. part 3
🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!
The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now. 
Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.
Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard. 
The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work. 
“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“ 
“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone. 
Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened? 
“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it. 
He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)
“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”
“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?” 
No. “Thanks.” 
The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening. 
He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she— 
“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees. 
He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again. 
“Hi.” 
“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“ 
“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.” 
That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe. 
The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again. 
“What about Steve.” 
Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth. 
“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.” 
“He… He’s hurt.” 
There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.” 
“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“ 
“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.” 
Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her. 
“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it. 
One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall. 
Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled. 
It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he— 
He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine. 
People don’t just die. 
They don’t. 
He’s fine. 
Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.
Eddie can relate.
Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression. 
Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this. 
It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently. 
And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue. 
But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time. 
He needs a smoke. 
He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life. 
But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes. 
It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles. 
“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him. 
Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him. 
She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt. 
I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.
But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit. 
But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or— 
“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today. 
“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate. 
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. 
“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.” 
And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while. 
She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.
He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?
But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie. 
That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. 
“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.” 
There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug. 
“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it. 
But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself. 
“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t? 
So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs. 
“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off. 
Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?” 
It’s stupid. Don’t say it. 
“Eddie?” 
With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”
Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out. 
He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues. 
“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state. 
“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing. 
Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year. 
She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three? 
It seems surreal. Everything, everything does. 
Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues. 
Her favourite colour. Her favourite person. 
It’s so fucking surreal. 
He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead. 
And silence reigns. 
“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.” 
There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped. 
Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues. 
“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”
“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.” 
Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat. 
“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.” 
Tell me about your favourite person. 
Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into. 
And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”
She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her. 
“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.” 
There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication. 
“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?” 
Sniffling, Robin shakes her head. 
“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.” 
He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin. 
“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…” 
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now. 
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does. 
There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there. 
He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now. 
There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him. 
And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then. 
So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare. 
It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve. 
“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring. 
What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next. 
“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.” 
What?
Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.
“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.” 
That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean? 
“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.” 
And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse. 
Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley. 
Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth. 
And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley. 
It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing. 
“Why’d you call me?” 
It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson. 
He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips. 
“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”
Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”
“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.” 
She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession. 
“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?” 
Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow. 
“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?” 
And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue. 
Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers. 
“What, the ice cream parlour?” 
Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…” 
She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses. 
Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened. 
“He saved your life?” 
Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation. 
“In the fire? Were you there?” 
“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.” 
Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again. 
“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters. 
“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?” 
“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.” 
“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.” 
It is, isn’t it? 
You’re so blue, Stevie. 
She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.
Blue. ‘S nice. 
Yeah. Yeah, he is. 
Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look. 
Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago. 
He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around. 
Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around. 
And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait. 
The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence. 
“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?” 
“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.” 
🤍🌷 tagging:
@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)
822 notes · View notes
luveline · 4 months
Note
hi lovely!! you mentioned bombshell!reader holding spencer's hand the whole time after the whole tobias incident and i wanted to request a more in-depth continuation of that, if it's alright? maybe with reader helping spence with his addiction afterwards too bc i just hate how the team didn't support him properly during that time 😭
There's something cold touching his hand. Actually, there's lots of things happening to his hand. 
Spencer fights to open heavy lashes, closes them again when the white hospital wall bathed in early morning sun burns his retinas. Alert, he realises that the hand in his is sweetly soft, with gentle fingertips holding his marriage finger up higher than the rest. You're playing with his hands while he sleeps.
Spencer opens his eyes again. There's no machine taking his observations, no beeping or whistling or medical ringing to be heard, just the soft huff and puff of your breathing and the sound of your heel tapping the floor. 
There had been more noise last time he woke, but the same amount of you. 
“Spencer?” 
He looks up from your hands holding his to your face. It's not fair, he thinks, how pretty you are, how pretty you continue to be, with your hair, your smile, your ever-smirking lips. You're doing it now, the sight of your painted smile squeezing his heart into a frenzied beating. If they were still taking his observations, he'd die from embarrassment. 
“Hey,” you say, still smiling, hands more insistent on his. 
“Hey. What are you doing here?” 
“What does it look like I'm doing, handsome?” you ask. 
“Did you go home?” 
“Of course I did.” You don't sound truthful. “Want a drink?” 
You pull a bottle of water from your handbag and pass it to him. He has to take his hand from yours to open it, and he wishes he'd said no. Spencer would happily go thirsty to prolong your touch and the security it brings with it. He's antsy as he swallows, a foreign-body feeling pervasive as he caps the drink, puts the bottle aside, and rubs the crust from his eyes. Lank hair falls into his face. 
“You okay?” you ask gently. 
“When can I leave?” 
“Tonight… They want to make sure you're, you know… properly weaned.” Your voice comes out quieter than he's ever heard it before. 
It's as forward as anyone's bothered being about the drugs. The drug, singular. 
Dilaudid is eight times stronger than morphine. Spencer was injected multiple times. His body won't be totally addicted, but he craves the numbness of it already. Whatever he's on isn't cutting through the pain in his legs and feet, nor the memories of being tied up, and all alone. 
“I think I'm gonna be sick,” he says. 
You grab for a blanket off of the edge of the bed to cover his lap as he hangs his head, sure he's going to throw up, but he doesn't so much as heave. The nausea remains anyhow, and worsens as you sit beside his legs. Your hand once again takes his, fingers slotting together as though they were made for this one purpose, your voice a clean, cleaving thing, “Hey, it's alright. It's fine, Spence, you're okay. This is expected.” He curls in on himself. You tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, tugging his hand closer to you in tandem. “You're gonna feel awful for a few days, but I'm right here.” 
“Why are you here?” he asks, confused. 
“Spence.” 
He looks up from under his lashes. 
Your semi-permanent smile seems to have gotten lost somewhere. “Spencer,” you say, attempting to say something without really saying it, eyes glued to his, “where else would I be?” 
He rubs the place between his brows with the heel of his palm. You keep his hand and wrap him in a careful hug. Either you don't notice how desperately he needs a hot shower or you don't care, gracing his cheek with a friendly (and unmissably loving) kiss. It's hard not to cry after that. 
“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you say. You weren't even on the case, but you'd showed up just as soon as you knew he'd been taken, and you haven't left his side since they found him in the cemetery. You don't have a thing in the world to be sorry for. “I'm so sorry. It'll be okay now.” Your voice ripples with surety. 
“Thanks for staying,” he says. 
“You did all the hard work by yourself.” You squeeze his fingers. “I can do the rest, babe.” 
964 notes · View notes
gasstationlady · 7 months
Text
tom holland’s school of manifestation | a charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x supermodel!reader
charles has a big crush on world renowned supermodel, y/n l/n. who would’ve thought she’d return the feelings.
notes: very much travis kelce x taylor swift inspired. faceclaim is yasmin wijnaldum! btw i try to improve with each post (like how i write/pace the story) so if you have any suggestions, pls (veryvery kindly) tell me!! :))
disclaimer: SORRY FOR TYPOS. GOOGLE TRANSLATE (and from american high school lol) FRENCH. KYM ILLMAN MENTIONED LOL. none of the information in this social media au is factual. i do use old photos of charlotte and charles, and usually i don't like to include pictures of their ex or current gfs in these fics (only bc i want to keep it as imaginative as possible and i feel like adding them kinda gives you a reality check while reading LOL) so lmk your opinions on that!
masterlist
voguemagazine
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 854,487 others
voguemagazine Since beginning modeling at the age of 14, Y/N L/N has cemented herself as the most influential supermodel of all time. As of 2023, she is now the world’s highest paid model surpassing Kendall Jenner who previously led the list. Throughout her career, she has made 39 appearances on international Vogue covers.
Tap the link in our bio to read the full profile. Photographed by @/leannafitz, Written by Phil Stevenson, Styled by @/sheri_simmons, Vogue, February 2023.
View all 942 comments
user MOTHER IS MOTHERING
user omg as someone who has been a fan since she began in 2011, i’m so proud of her 😭
user she's the definition of perfection
user LOL ariana (charles), what are you doing here
↳ user his little crush on her is soo cute 😩
↳ user he’s just like us fr lmaoo
user her walk is legendary like it reminds me so much of naomi
user i was gonna say she’s the model of our generation but that’s wrong. she’s actually the top model of all time 😩😩😩
user i’m glad to see a non-nepo baby be on top of the list
↳ user no literally like no shade to bella, kendall, and them but y/n had to fight tooth and nail to be here
↳ user frrr bc most of the nepo baby models are great, don’t get me wrong. however, they were allowed to make mistakes during their career in order to improve. y/n was not privileged enough to have that. like ppl don’t understand the insane expectations that were placed on her ever since she entered the industry, but she exceeded those expectations every. single. time. and that’s why she deserves this title
user she’s so beautiful
user i would die for y/n
user nothing could describe the amount of affection i have for this woman omfg
charleslc_updates
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42,077 likes
charleslc_updates Charles and Arthur talking about Y/N L/N (again lol) in a recent interview 👀
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user lmaoooooo relatable
user omg i'm new to f1 but i've always been a y/n stan i'm freaakkkinng out but wdym again??
↳ user lmaooo charles is always trying to bring up y/n
user the leclerc brothers 🥰🥰
user it was so cute to see the both of them in one video
user this man fr blushed AHAH cute
user i get it charles i too have the biggest crush on y/n
↳ user lol literally like get in line dude
↳ user back of the line bucko
user i've never seen a man so down bad for someone he's never met
user y/n what are you doing girl if you don't want him ILL DO IT
user @/yourusername
↳ user LMAO YESSS @/yourusername
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ynupdates
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239,095 likes
ynupdates Y/N opening the 2023 Chanel by Karl Lagerfeld show during Paris Fashion Week.
View all 3,977 comments
user omg she absolutely killed it
user god does she need a dog? i can bark
user i love seeing her thrive
user quick charles this is your chance!!! she’s in paris 😭😭😭 @/charles_leclerc
↳ user lmaooooo not you tagging him but literally though
↳ user no srsly please mr. "i hope our paths cross soon" you don't understand i need this to happen
user yall saw that walk??? ugh y/n the woman that you are
user i don’t get the hype. all she does is walk.
user NAHHHH SHE ATEEE THAT
user i’m so happyyyy 🥺 y/n is so booked and busy she’s really out here doing multiple back to back shows for paris fashion week
↳ user same! it’s crazy that she gets to open and close multiple shows, especially ones like chanel!
user i love that so many people are going to these shows just to see y/n
user i could make this exact dress with my curtains
user if i ever meet her in real life i would die happily
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, bellahadid and 5,490,124 others
yourusername rien de mieux que d'etre a la maison [no place like home]
View all 12,658 comments
gigihadid sexy lady
↳ yourusername already missing you
user i keep forgetting she's part french
user you absolutely KILLED those shows
voguemagazine iconic ⭐️
alexademie 🔥🔥
user beautiful girl!!
user omggg charles liking this LOL
↳ user it's actually frustrating me that this man has no game like i'm rooting for you cmon
↳ user lmaooo literally though i'm just hoping he's pulling some strings behind the scenes
anokyai 😍😍😍
user la plus belle fille [the most beautiful girl] *liked by charles_leclerc
↳ user if this is him shooting his shot 😭😭
↳ user lol charles is down so bad he's even going through the comments
user am i just crazy but why are there two drinks in the second post? like is this supposed to be a very soft launch
↳ user it's probably gigi 😭😭 she did comment saying that they were hanging out with each other
↳ user but why not just take a pic of her tho
deuxmoi
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31,844 likes
deuxmoi Y/N L/N & Charles Leclerc spotted hanging out with each other in Paris
View all 992 comments
user NO WAY OMG
user i'm actually in disbelief how tf did charles get here
user i knew you could do it charles!!
user TURN IT UP IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE
user so are they dating???
user CHARLES FR WINNING RN AHAH
↳ user NO LITERALLYYY HES BEEN DREAMING ABOUT THIS FOR AGES
↳ user he manifested this 😭
user they look sooo good together
user why does he look so srs
↳ user give my man a break 😩
↳ user well it looks like he’s not your man anymore 😭😭
user omgg this is like a fairytale
user wait i'm kinda obsessed with this
user i’m so invested
kymillman
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201,885 likes
kymillman Y/N AND CHARLES
Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc is joined at the track today by top supermodel, Y/N L/N. This is the first time Y/N is with him and she clearly shines in front of the camera.
Her debut at the grid has quickly become a popular topic as fans and drivers alike are intrigued by the presence of one of the most famous women in the world.
For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com #f1 #formula1 #signedprints #japanesegp #CharlesLeclerc #Y/NL/N
View all 971 comments
user SHDJEJ IM ACTUALLY GOING FERAL
user mom and dad 😩
user so it’s official???
↳ user i mean this is the hardest launch they could have done other than posting 😭
user i’m a charles fan and even i’m surprised he got her to date him
user i’m rooting for them so much 🥺🥺
user she’s serving though
user i’m watching the race rn and they literally keep talking about y/n being there AHH
↳ user i always forget she’s kind of a big deal
user kym gets on my nerves but this picture is actual gold
user it's so obvious that this is a publicity stunt
↳ user nah but for who? bc i know damn well that neither charles nor y/n need it
↳ user obviously not for them but maybe it's to gather more attention for f1
↳ user girl i need u to listen to urself rn 😭 bc that makes no sense
user idk who charles is and idk what the hell f1 is but best believe i’m tuning in next race just to see y/n
↳ user literally me girl i can’t believe i’m watching cars drive in a circle rn
yn_updates
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91,922 likes
yn_updates Some moments of Y/N being mentioned by drivers during the Formula 1 race
View all 1,061 comments
user i swear it was like every minute i'd hear y/n's name
user the way that all the drivers are aware of charles's long time obsession with y/n LOL
↳ user i just know charles is the type to never shut up about her ahaha
user she's literally THE y/n l/n. i mean if viewers are sky rocketing just by her being there, imagine her impact if she had actively promoted it
↳ user she's so iconic
↳ user no bc i love y/n so much that i just forced myself to watch rich grown men vroom vroom in circles for almost 2 hrs just to catch a glimpse of her
user i'm in love with her life
user LMAOOO THE DRIVERS TEASING CHARLES
user lando's so funny 😭😭
user y/n and f1 stans are being FED today wow
user is it just me or am i kinda annoyed about how often they're bringing her up like my girl can't even support her bf in peace
↳ user yea i'm eating it up but also feeling bad for y/n at the same time. the attention is definitely a double edge sword.
user apparently she was with joris most of the time 🥺
user this is literally straight from a fairy tale i can't
user didn't they just meet like a week ago
↳ user as far as we know they were first spotted together about a month ago by that deuxmoi post. but assuming from y/n and charles's past relationships, i don't think they'd be this comfortable going public without being together for a while
↳ user yea this has definitely been going on longer than we think/have been seeing
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, gigihadid, landonorris and 7,712,083 others
charles_leclerc J'ai toujours su que c'était toi. Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour ❤️ [I've always known it was you. Happy birthday, my love]
View all 34,511 comments
yourusername merci, mon cœur ❤️ [thank you, my heart]
yourusername je suis raide dingue de toi [i'm madly in love with you]
↳ charles_leclerc l'amour de ma vie [the love of my life]
user are we interrupting something...
user i can’t believe it’s already been 6 months since they first went public
user throwing myself down the stairs as we speak
user they don't know it yet but we're actually a throuple
user happy birthday y/n!!!
user in love with their love 🥺
user lmfaoooo i just know charles is on cloud 9 this man literally sees y/n and is blind to everything else
↳ user he's sooo cute, he's like a love sick puppy
user i still think this is a pr relationship
user god i'd die for someone to look at me the way charles looks at y/n in that second pic
user this is my roman empire
user i'm so obsessed with them it's insane
user our generation's brad and angelina
↳ user don't say that wtf my parents are never separating
user pls don't ever breakup 😭😭
2K notes · View notes
koishiro · 17 days
Text
# - 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ — 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Yuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, Toji Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki, Kento Nanami
masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist
Satoru Gojo
Gojo has no shame, you should know this. It’s no surprise to anyone when they see the jujutsu teacher just waltz over in his usual long strides and (quite aggressively) places his head on your lap. And if you ignore him? Ohohoho he’d be a menace. From nudging his head on your stomach, to biting the soft plush of your thighs, all for you to run your fingers through his hair.
He enjoys laying on your thighs a little too much since he literally won't get up even if you have to go do something important.
“Satu, I have to get up”
“‘M? Later”
“Don’t you have a class to teach?”
“They can wait”
Suguru Geto
Suguru would be slightly more subtle than Gojo, but still pretty affectionate. You’d often find him reading a book or two later followed by a complaint of how stiff and achy his back and neck were which led you to now, sitting down on your shared couch and contentedly scrolling through your phone until you felt an unfamiliar weight weigh down on your lap.
Temporarily turning your attention to the man now taking place on your lap, a book in one hand while the other absentmindedly toyed with the fabric of your shirt, you stared at him for a moment until your burning gaze tore his attention away from his book, as if you were the one to invade his personal bubble.
“Hm? Yes darling? Are you not considering the pain and backache I’ve been going through for this book? Have some sympathy, I thought this would be better for my posture.”
Yuji Itadori
This boy would be so oblivious, not even realising the effect he had on you. He would be in the middle of talking about Human Earthworm 4 and would first start to lean his body weight on your shoulder before gradually moving down to your lap, even going as far as to readjust you and your position just like a pillow.
It would only occur to him what position he’s actually in when his one sided conversation starts to die off, now realising how his head and hands are tucked between your plush thighs - skin on skin contact.
“O-Oh uhm - I’m so sorry!
Megumi Fushiguro
Don’t expect this to ever happen in public but in the privacy of your own home? Megumi would be severely more touchy when he’s tired so when he’s exhausted? He’ll have no shame. Dragging his feet through the threshold of his dorm, his bag being dragged not too far behind he makes a beeline towards his bed where the outline of non other than his lover was hidden beneath the covers.
Leaving his bag behind, Megumi navigates his way towards the warmth of your body before toeing off his shoes and slipping his way between your legs, arms tucked beneath the plush of your thighs. Asking about his day you had to strain your ears to hear his response
“‘missed you. Wanted to come home earlier but Gojo was an ass. R’lly missed your warmth.”
Toji Fushiguro
This man has no shame. If you’d be sitting a centimetre too far for his liking you best know he’s gonna clamp his large hands down on you and drag you to where he likes. He’d even go as far as to lift your legs over his own thighs and (like a cat) paw at the skin of your thighs.
So when you happen to pass by his chair while he’s in the middle of a slightly less than exciting conversation he was having with a name he couldn’t even remember of course his first instinct is to reach out and pull you down, caging you between his two arms - his hands nicely warmed between your two thighs before they ventured and groped at any available skin.
“Stay nice ‘n pretty f’me kay? Don’t wanna make this guy uncomfortable do ya? ‘N keep your pretty mewls to yaself until we get home hm?”
Toge Inumaki
Bby boy just wants to be comforted okay? Is that too much to ask for? He’d already be so comfortable around you that he wouldn’t think twice about what he was doing.
You both could be lying down outside, one or both reading a book and after a while of resting in the same spot for hours on end he’d struggle to find a comfortable spot and the next best thing to a patch of grass? His lover of course. Toge would slowly shift his way towards you so you’d end up as a mesh of bodies resembling a ‘T’. A few squeezes to your thighs every now and then followed by a series of onigri ingredients,
“I should do this more often, you’re much more comfy than any pillow I’ve owned. My own portable neck pillow.”
Kento Nanami
This wouldn’t happen often at the start of your relationship with Kento considering he’s never had to (quite literally) lean on anyone before but it never bothered you, you knew before you threw yourself into the relationship that he’d take some time to warm up and you were right because slowly after months of quick pecks and fleeting touches - the unfamiliar weight of your boyfriends head leaned on your shoulder. The tired eyes and dark bags beneath his eyes said all you needed to know.
“Tired?” With a grunt of agreement, clearly too tired to even lift his head, you lead him down to rest on your lap where he stayed without complaint until hours later when the sun shone through the living room curtains and the blanket you managed to reach and place over top you both before swiftly joining him lay on the floor long forgotten. Nanami would all but bury his face deeper between your thighs - chasing the warmth they emanated while his hands found closure beneath them.
“Please, don’t move. At least not yet.”
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faux-ecrivain · 5 months
Text
Yan babysitter
(Fourth official post)
(This one is a bit shorter than my other posts)
“Don’t worry I’ll take good care of them!” He placates your parents as they leave, waving them off and slamming the door shut when your parents have gone far enough.
He turns to you, with a rather fierce glare and shoos you off to your room. 
Yan babysitter that wants nothing to do with you, that only took the job because he needs the money. 
Yan babysitter who thinks you’re too old for a babysitter, but he doesn’t care, your parents are rich and that’s all he needs to know.
Yan babysitter who did not anticipate you to be such an irresponsible nuisance. (What’s with the weird cultists that keep knocking on the door and where’s that strange whispering coming from??)
Yan babysitter who quickly discovers that maybe this job was more than he bargained for, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive of his job.
Yan babysitter who, somehow, ended up trapped in another dimension and is trying to escape. (Turns out cultists don’t take too kindly to the door being slammed in their face)
Yan babysitter who is sure he’s going to die here in this strange dimension.
Yan Babysitter who regrets ever taking this job and swears that if he ever gets out he’s never coming to this house again.
Yan babysitter who faces the horrors of this other dimension, each monster warping his mind and easing him into insanity.
Yan babysitter who’s so close to escaping, but then he gets trapped by some weird otherworldly creature.
Yan babysitter whose life flashes before his eyes as the creature nears.
He closes his eyes and can only hope that this won’t be dragged out, he can feel the creature approach, and he can do nothing but curl up into a ball and beg for mercy.
However, death doesn’t come, no, just when the creature unhinged its jaw and prepares to (quite literally) devour Yan babysitter, he’s saved.
Yan babysitter who’s stunned whenever you rescue him and when he tries to express his gratitude you dismiss his gratitude. (This happened a lot, you tell him, you even suggest that it was your parents intention to sacrifice him.)
Yan babysitter, who from then on, is absolutely obsessed with you (he treats you like a deity, swearing that he’ll serve you forever.)
You brush him off, as you are used to saving irresponsible babysitters from the jaws of doom, then your try to ignore his constant rambling about you being a deity. (Because you aren’t, you’re just a normal person with magic powers) Yet, no matter how much you ignore him his ramblings don’t (Maybe you should’ve left him in that other dimension)
He takes your indifference as a sign of shyness, his mind warped by the brief time he spent in that other dimension. (Seriously, he’s going to need major therapy when he leaves this house) He decides to dedicate his life to protecting you or at the very least repay you for saving his life.
Which then leads to him following you around, intervening in everything you do and then isolating you from those he deems a threat. (Mostly your friends)
Somehow, in less than two weeks, he has threatened half of your neighborhood and caused almost all your friends to go missing. 
At this point, it occurs to you that maybe Yan babysitter is a danger to your lifestyle and you should probably get rid of him. Which marks the beginning of your attempts to erase him from existence, however this doesn’t sway him, and he somehow believes that the person targeting him is actually aiming for you.
So, now, you’ve got an overprotective babysitter watching your every move and probably hiding in your walls. (Maybe you should have let him rot in the other dimension, less trouble and you wouldn’t have had to explain to your parents why the demon in your basement is still hungry)
Yan babysitter who promises to always protect you and to be by your side forever. (He’s such a nuisance)
(Sorry for the short post, I was somewhat distracted by the tv when I was writing this.)
(Regardless, enjoy this post and feel free to comment)
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roseychains · 13 days
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Jjk men/boys as red flags ~
A/n: felt like angst
C/w: angst, all sfw.
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Gojo: narcissistic 
When you and Gojo were only friends it was fine, it was always just a joke. Even when it would irritate you, you were only friends, so it didn’t mean much. But after you started dating, you realized it wasn’t just a joke. Gojo held himself above everyone, yourself included. That’s not to say he wouldn’t die for you, but instead he just thinks he’s better than everyone else. Including you. He treats you well, but it’s always back handed complements. “You couldn’t do it without me,” or “you need me,” and this time, he meant it.
Geto: avoidant
Geto has never been open with how he’s feeling. When he gets upset with you, rather than explain to you why he’s upset he would avoid you like the plague. Make up any excuse in the book to get away from you, he was suddenly always “busy.” Even once he worked him self back down to normal, it still wouldn’t be resolved in his brain. Ultimately leading to him accumulating sad thoughts that he refuses to share with you or anyone else.
Nanami: priority’s
As much as he loved you, his work always gets in the way between you too. It started with a few days spent overtime, but days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and you realized you were hardly spending time with him anymore. He would work himself day and night, even when you pleaded with him to come home to you. Your pleas fell on deaf ears, he would always tell you the same thing. That he can’t support you without this job, and it was what must be done. Even at the expense of his time with you.
Toji: irresponsible
After his wife passing, he seems to care less and less about anything else in the world. After you began dating, you realized he would do small things, innocent mistakes. Not cleaning up for himself, not switching the laundry, but when you would address the issues, he would suddenly get defensive. First, he’d tell you it wasn’t true. Then, it was an accident, and finally, if you care so much why don’t you do it. Never just “sorry, I’ll handle it.”
Sukuna: aggressive
The first time your forgave him. But when it became a repetitive issue, it started getting under your skin. The smallest things would send him into a rage, a rage that he would take out on you, raising his voice, burdening you with his anger. After he calmed down and apologized, and promised to not do that again or at the very least work on it, progress never came. Trapped in a cycle of yell, apologize, promise, repeat.
Choso: affection
Choso is inexperienced and scared. He’s scared of touch, of intimacy, he wants to love you from afar. He can talk to you for hours, and listen to you talk, but he won’t hold your hand, especially in public. It’s almost like he’s ashamed, embarrassed to be with you. But no matter how much you bring it up, he’d reassure you and say he’s just shy. But never a way to satisfy your need for physical love.
Yuji: ignorant
He doesn’t realize what he’s doing wrong, so when your mad at him he doesn’t know why. He thought he was doing everything right, and even when you tell him, he can’t wrap his head around why that would upset you, he doesn’t get it. He never has, and he never will. He ends up love bombing you and you forgive him, but do you really? No, you let it happen because what else are you supposed to do.
Megumi: self-destructive
Megumi cares about anyone else more than himself, and he refuses to take care of himself properly and repeatedly puts himself into dangerous situations. It doesn’t matter how much you cry, how you sob and hold him in your arms telling him you didn’t think he was ever coming back, begging him to stay, if not for his safety than for you. But he won’t. He never listens, no amount of tears and begging will ever change his ways.
Inumaki: effort
A relationship should be 50/50, but when someone can’t give that, the other person would make up for it. But when 40/60 becomes the new normal, than 30/70, and so on, a lack of effort on his part is a regular occurrence, it starts feeling like why do you even try. Your putting in more than you can just for him to not make it up in return. It’s almost like he doesn’t care anymore
Yuta: obsessive
It was cute first, the way he would get jealous whenever you spent time with someone else. It was a joke right? You started questioning the lightheartedness of his actions when it became frequent and almost forceful. He would resent anyone who you spent time with, he felt like you were being stolen away. So much so the point it became toxic. He would guilt trip you to stay home more frequently. And when you finally decided you were going to leave anyway, the keys to your car had mysteriously disappeared. On no, guess you have to spend the day with him, again, forever.
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