#but no one else is a child and everything is different and there are so many things you don't remember
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Think I'm Gonna Call it Off
Description: You have been Prince Aemond's secret for years now, but a certain visiting Stark opens your eyes to what could be.
Inspired by the line “think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love, I just wanna love someone who calls me baby.” From Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan
This was ridiculous, you are a Lady of a fine house, virtuous, beautiful, intelligent, kind and your embroidery skills have been praised by Queen Alicent herself and yet here you sit waiting for Prince Aemond to return. To return and not spare you a single glance. Not until you are tucked away from the prying eyes of the court, until he is confident no one can hear your conversations.
You wonder if it is foolishness that keeps you sitting there, leaning against one of the many windows in the library, searching the skies for Vhagar’s great form set against the clouds.
You have rejected a number of suitors, worried your father and mother, made yourself seem all but undesirable in the eyes of the court, all because the prince swore that he would tell his mother. That he would announce to the whole of the realm that he loved you, and that you would be wed as soon as possible. He does not want a Valyrian wedding he said, he has no taste for it, he wants to honor you, honor his mother, and the Seven whom he worshiped.
“Lady y/n?” Lord Cregan Stark’s voice rolls through you like thunder, the deep baritone, the rouge northern brocade that made him pronounce your name just slightly different from everyone else, just enough that shamefully it makes you feel special.
You turn your head away from the towering window and give him a small smile. “Lord Stark, I did not expect to see you here.”
He returns your smile and leans against the wall; arms crossed over his chest.
Seven help you, he did have such strong looking arms, the sight of them never ceases to distract you. Even his thick tunic, and his dark-colored cloak could not hide them. Truly, everything about Lord Stark seemed strong. Queen Alicent said it is common of a Northmen, that they must be strong to survive the winters, while Lady Frey said it was the wolf’s blood in his veins. That all Starks had unnatural strength, speed, and stamina granted to them by the Old Gods. Neither woman’s explanation accounted for the man’s looks though.
Lord Stark is quite handsome, a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones with a close-cut beard, more stubble than a full beard though, and gray eyes like a winter storm. His dark hair is around Prince Aegon’s length, though often tied back and much better cared for. His lips are full and healed, having been cracked and dry from the drastic change in temperature on his trip down south. A small scar runs through the corner of them, on the right side, giving him a more roguish appearance. He said he had gotten it as a child, playing around with his father’s sword. And he was tall, so, so tall, towering over you in a way no man has before.
Then he laughs, the sound warming you to the bones, making a blush rise to your cheeks. “Do not tell me you think me a barbarian, as the others do. I thought you knew me better than that, little fox.”
The name he has graced you with never fails to make your heart stutter and disrupt any coherent thought you might have had. It is a reference to your house sigil, you know that. But the way he says it, how his accent wraps around each syllable, makes it seem far more…intimate than simply a friendly moniker given to you by a man who does not know your customs.
Aemond calls you his, or some sweet term of endearment in High Valyrian in private, sticking to Lady y/h/n in public. You wish he would use your name, you have told him time and time again, even the Queen and Princess Helaena use it. You have been at the Red Keep for nearly a decade now, been in the Princess’ inner circle of friends for almost as long, it would not seem strange to others.
“Lord Stark—”
“Cregan, or Lord Cregan if you must add the lord, as I have told you before.” He corrects you, but not unkindly, his lips curling up into a fondly exasperated smile.
“Lord Cregan, I did not mean to imply I believe that libraries were not your preferred place to spend your time, only that I thought you would be joining the other men on their hunt.”
He glances out the window towards the Kingswood. “And I would think you would be taking tea or sewing with the other ladies.”
You have been caught.
“Ah yes, well, as you know, Prince Aemond is to return today and Princess Helaena asked me to keep watch. She loves her brother very much but has to entertain the other ladies so could not watch for him herself.”
You pray Helaena will forgive you for involving her in a lie.
Cregan hums low in his throat and his eyes flicker to you, picking you apart. “Did she now?”
You nod, not trusting your own voice.
“The prince is lucky to have such a vision of beauty to return home to.” He says, running his eyes down your form, drinking in every detail with something akin to reverence? Though you know you must be seeing things. Cregan Stark would not look at you in such a way, there is no reason to.
“Princess Helaena is quite beautiful.” You agree, trying to keep an air of propriety around you even as your mind screams at you to flee for fear you will say something utterly stupid.
Cregan reaches out, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment caressing your cheek. “Aye, but she is not who I speak of.”
You? He means you?
You duck your head, cheeks warming once more. “You flatter me.”
He shifts forward, invading your space, the scent of forest air and woodsmoke filling your nostrils. “Is it flattery if it is true?” He is so close, still a respectable distance but close enough that you can reach out and touch him, can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
“I believe that is a question for the maesters.” You tease lightly, your heart pounding in your chest.
“You are a smart girl, little fox, I am sure you can figure it out.” He teases back, a glimmer in his eyes that excites you.
No one teases you; no one jests or challenges you like Cregan does. You assume it is because they all know Prince Aemond has claim on you, or because you are a lady, but you are educated, and strong-willed, you enjoy a good challenge. You enjoy Cregan speaking to you like an equal.
“Truth is relative, as they say.” You offer, cocking your head innocently, barely able to keep a smile off your face.
“Aye, some say. Though your beauty is truth, relative or not. Surely you must know that.” He counters.
“Vanity is not a virtue.” You say, meeting his gaze. The storm gray of them has softened to a dove gray, mirth dancing within them.
“Neither is lying and yet…”
“Are you accusing me of lying, Lord Cregan?” You gasp in mock outrage.
“About knowing that your beauty is what every man dreams of returning home to? Yes.” He says, his tone light and blithe, but his words, and the way his eyes darken for a moment? It takes your breath away.
“Your beauty, little fox, is one that haunts men’s dreams, that keeps them fighting when they are the last standing. That they keep in their mind as they clash swords, traverse through snow and sea.” He continues, holding your gaze, voice no longer light, but heavy with intent and promise. “It is a beauty one wishes to see the moment they return home before all else, or any others. A beauty that should be admired in all lights and shadows. The setting of the sun and its rising, the summer days and winter nights, one to be cherished.”
You break away from his gaze, a twinge of sadness in your chest. Aemond has never spoken to you in such a way, he has waxed poetic about your beauty, flattered you, lavished you with sweet words, but it has never felt the same as Cregan’s did now. Guilt replaces the sadness, and you toy with the edge of your sleeves. You should not be engaging with Cregan in this way, it was not right, even if it made you feel…something. “You are too kind, My Lord.”
Cregan reaches for you, breaching what was proper, and taking your hand in his. They are so much larger than yours, so warm, so gentle. “Have I spoken out of turn?”
“No, no, I am just—I am a maiden of the South, Lord Stark, I am not used to such forwardness from a man I am not courting with.”
“Honesty, it is honesty, though I apologize for my forwardness.” Cregan says, subconsciously stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Either way, I am not used to it.” You say heart calming with each stroke of his calloused thumb.
Cregan’s brows furrow. “I have heard tales of—the other noblemen, they speak highly of you. Of your beauty, your kindness, your wit, are they all struck dumb by your very being, is that why no one has praised you as you deserve?”
You feel you should say something about Aemond, but what could you truly say? There is no formal betrothal in place, he has not publicly staked his claim beyond a possessiveness that those who spent enough time in court could see. But nothing is ever outwardly stated.
You go to speak, but Cregan stops you. “My apologies, I should not have asked such a thing, how are you to know what lies within the minds of man?”
“You are correct, I do not know their minds.” You say instead and bury down any explanation involving Aemond and his invisible claim.
A dragon roar fills the air, the window vibrates with the force of the sound, and your eyes shoot back to the window. Prince Aemond is home.
“Or they fear the mind of one man and thus hold their tongues.” Cregan says, releasing your hand.
“The prince? I—he—we…it is not—” You cannot get the words out fast enough.
“I will take my leave.” He says, remaining for a moment searching your face until it seemed he had found what he is looking for, and left.
You watch him go, admiring the strength in his stride, when he turns back, a strange look in his eyes. “At the feast tonight, might I have a dance?” He asks.
“With me?” Your heart is pounding against your chest.
He nods.
Footsteps rush by the open library door, and you can hear Princess Helaena calling out to Prince Aemond.
You stand, smoothing out your skirts with shaky hands, why did he make you so nervous? Or is not nerves, but excitement? “Of course, Lord Cregan, I would be honored.”
“I will hold you to that.” Cregan smile, then he disappears down the hall, and you are left alone to hurry after the princess.
Aemond does not call for you until hours after he has returned. When you knock on the door to his chambers, dressed already for the feast, he bids you to enter in a soft voice, exhaustion tinging each word.
You hurry to his side, clasping one hand between your own. “My Prince, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you have returned safely.”
He uses his free hand to cup your cheek, that half smile, half smirk he wears so well on his well sculpted face. “I was only gone for a mere moon, and I was never in any danger, did you doubt your Prince, ñuha nūmio?”
“No, of course not, but…you would not tell me where you were going, no one would.” You say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“That is simply because it was not information you needed.” He says, brushing the pad of his thumb across your lips.
“But if I am to be your wife, would it not be prudent if I were to know where my husband is?”
Aemond’s eye, a brilliant amethyst, hardens, then he looks away and sighs. “Lady y/h/n I have told you patience is a virtue, and your virtue is what I adore most.”
You bite your lip, internally chastising yourself. You know better than to rush him. “My apologies.”
Aemond frees your bottom lip from between your teeth and brushes his lips across your forehead. “Do not take my words so harshly, your eagerness is quite endearing, and I to wish for us to be wed, but it is not yet time.”
You lean into his touch, “I understand.”
“How have you been amusing yourself while I was away, ñuha nūmio? Did anything exciting happen?” Aemond asks, his thumb resting beside the corner of your lip.
“Not much, it seems you had taken all the excitement with you. Though as you know Lord Stark’s arrival has caused quite a stir and now two moons later still is. Many ladies are jockeying for the position of Lady of the North.” You tell him, giggling at the memory of some of your friends’ actions.
“But not you?” Aemond asked, his tone making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
“No, I am yours, why would I wish to be Lady of the North?” You reassured him, brushing back a lock of silver hair from his face.
For a moment, you are struck with the feel of Cregan’s fingertips, rough and calloused but gentle against your skin. The warmth of his skin, the softness of his gaze, the earnestness of his words. What was he looking for when he stared into your eyes, when he took in every detail of your face?
“If you are too distracted, you may leave, My Lady.” Aemond says, the irritation in his voice drawing you from your thoughts.
“No, no, I am not, I am just so happy you have returned.”
Aemond hums in acknowledgement, dressed in his feast finery as well. “I have missed you.”
Your heart flutters. “I have missed you as well.”
He releases your chin to trail his fingers down the column of your neck. His cool touch causes goosebumps to follow in his wake, and he dips his head low to press his lips to your cheek, then begins to follow his fingers with his lips. “I have missed you, your voice, your smiles, your touch.”
You shiver in response, grabbing onto his doublet.
“Do not touch, you will wrinkle the fabric.” He warns, even as his hands grip your waist.
You remove your hands, clasping them behind your back.
“I will not be able to dance with you tonight, mother has brought another girl for me to try and charm.” He says, into your skin, his silver hair brushing against your exposed décolletage.
Your heart sinks. “Not even one dance?”
Aemond sighs and presses a final kiss to the hollow of your throat. “You know I detest it as much as you do, but it is my duty.”
You nod, blinking back the tears that threaten to appear on your waterline.
He smooths down your hair and turns you towards the door. “I will try to find time for one dance, but I cannot make any promises.”
His words lift your spirits, and you smile at him. “Thank you, Aemond.”
“Prince Aemond, we have guests tonight.” He reminds you, then he shuts the door, and you hurry back to your chambers.
The Great Hall is decorated beautifully, and you sit at your table with the other ladies of Helaena’s circle. A wine glass in hand as you watch Aemond dance with Cerelle Peake, her brown hair pinned up with a net of gold and sapphires, her umber gown flowing beautifully as she twirled.
“Come now, y/n, you will never be asked to dance with such a scowl.” Johanna Swyft says, poking your cheek goodnaturedly.
“No, she will never be asked to dance because the prince glares at anyone who tries.” Mina Redwyne says, clinking her glass against yours in silent sympathy.
Johanna shoots her a look. “Do keep your voice down, Mina.”
You take a long drink from your glass, emptying it, then setting it down, scanning the crowd for another servant. “Perhaps I do not wish to dance.”
“I am crushed to hear that Lady y/n.” Cregan’s presence makes every lady at your table sit up straight, and you turn to face him.
“Lord Stark.” You say, bowing your head in his direction.
He holds out a hand, and you remember how it nice felt, the phantom warmth still lingering. “I do believe you agreed to a dance, earlier today?”
“Lucky.” Mina hisses, as Johanna juts her elbow into your side to prod you up and out of your seat.
You stand, and take his hand, trying to ignore the twinge of pain in your side. “I did.”
Cregan leads you to the dance floor, and you can hear your friends giggling behind you, much to your utter embarrassment.
“Your friends seem quite encouraging.” Cregan says, barely holding back a laugh.
“When they learned I have no sisters, they decided that they would act as such, apparently that means acting in a most embarrassing way.” You say, falling into the rhythm of the dance.
“I knew you had brothers, but I did not know you were the only daughter, that must make you very precious in your father’s eyes.” Cregan ventures, his large, warm hand pressed to yours as you circle each other.
“I would like to think so.” You smile, your heart aches for a moment with homesickness. “He could not attend this feast, he is too ill to travel, my eldest brother is here on his behalf, accompanied by my second-eldest brother who is here to drink and presumably enjoy the Silk Streets.”
“I never had a taste for brothels.”
“Nor I.”
Cregan smiles and twirls you. “I thought not, for I have heard you are far too virtuous.”
You shrug. “It is more, I do not wish to spend the coin.”
Shock flashes across his face then he laughs, repeating your words quietly with a chuckle, and as you are spun back into his arms you cannot help but laugh as well.
“You are clever, little fox, I will miss you when I return home.” He says, his eyes searching you once more.
Your heart stops, and you trip over your feet. “You are leaving?”
His grip on you tightens as he helps you right yourself. “Aye, I have here for two moons, that is far too long, my people need me.”
You do not want him to leave, you will miss him dearly, his laugh, his expressions, his stories. You will miss the walks you had taken together, the discussions that ran late into the night, just outside your chambers, the men standing guard pretending they were not listening. The way he presented you with the pelts of animals he had hunted, regaling you with the tale of how he felled it. Who would challenge you now, who would make you laugh, would listen to your words, and respond as if you were an equal, as if your sex did not diminish your intelligence?
“When will you leave?” You ask, unable to keep your voice steady, so you spin away from him to give yourself a moment to smother your emotions.
Cregan pulls you back into his arms, trapping you with his steady gaze. “In a few days time.”
“Oh…” You manage to choke out, swallowing hard, your eyes on your feet.
“I have been meaning to tell you, there just never seemed to be a good time.” Cregan says sheepishly.
You nod, still staring at the floor. “Well, I will miss you.”
“I will miss you too, y/n,” he says softly, then he slips a finger under your chin and lifts it gently. “In all lights, in all seasons.”
Tears blur your vision, and you hastily blink them away, not even noticing he has said only your given name, no title attached. Cregan’s warm thumb catches any stray tears that fall, and you lean into his touch, desperate for more of that something he had made you feel before. That something you realize he was always making you feel, and that he is making you feel right now, though it is tinged with grief. “Cregan, I—”
“Lady y/h/n, I believe I promised you a dance.” Aemond’s voice is steel, ice, the frigid fear that ran through the veins of Vhagar’s victim, and you hurriedly wipe away any remaining tears plastering on a false smile, before you turn, Cregan’s other hand still on your waist.
You drop into a curtsy. “My Prince, that you did.”
Cregan’s hand lingers, and your heart lurches in your chest when the warmth of it is finally removed.
Another song has begun to play, one you love dancing with Aemond to. It allows for close movements and lingering touches that you always long for with him.
“I thought you did not wish to be the Lady of the North.” He says, his eyes picking you apart as Cregan’s did but there is a cold methodical feel to it that makes you feel utterly and horribly exposed.
“He was merely being kind, no one else had asked me to dance.” You protest, falling into the rhythm as you had before.
“No one else should, you are mine.” Aemond say, spinning you out, and then back in.
His hands burn through your gown, your skin, meeting bone, and before you would have loved it, relished the feeling, but now you feel they are too hot, your skin prickles uncomfortably.
“I like to dance; I do not get to dance when you are occupied, and you are often occupied.” You say quietly, your head bowed ever so slightly.
“I had them play your favorite song, as a reward for your patience.” He says, ignoring your words. “Do you like it?”
“I do, thank you.” You smile and raise your head, hoping to catch his eye and find it brimming with affection. That would soothe your wounded heart, would banish the grief you feel at Cregan leaving.
Instead, his eye is elsewhere, you follow its gaze to see it land on the Peake girl. You do not blame her, do not hate her, though your blood turns to fire in your veins, and you brace yourself for what you are going to say next.
“When are we going to be wed, I have been patient for many years, and you never tell me when my patience will be able to end.” You say, holding your chin high. You are not a Peake, but you still have pride.
His eye flicker back to you, his grip tightening. “Are you truly asking this now?”
“Yes. Yes, I am, because I am tired of waiting, tired of watching as you charm others, tired of being shunted to the side because even though you will not claim me, no one else is allowed to.” You can no longer keep your emotions contained. “I want to be happy Aemond, I want to be happy with you, but I am not happy.”
“Not everything is about your happiness, Lady y/h/n.” Aemond snaps.
You reel back as if you have been struck. “I did not say it was. You have been the one saying you wished to marry me, promising me you would tell the whole of the realm how deeply you care for me. I have done nothing else but dote on you and be patient.”
Guilt flashes across his face, and he reaches for you, but you push his hands away. “It is not so simple.”
“Do you see my face in your dreams, does it keep you fighting, keep you marching on, am I the first person you wish to see when you return home, do you wish to see me in all lights, in all seasons?” You throw Cregan’s words in Aemond’s face and wait for a response.
Aemond laughs, taking your hands, and bringing you back into the dance. “You have picked up a new book of poetry, I see.”
You cannot find it in yourself to be angry, the shock settling in, muffling everything until it is as if you are floating underwater. The rest of the night passes that way, you go through the motions, avoiding Cregan, your friends, shooting you concerned looks.
Then the feast ends, guards escort those too drunk to find their chambers, all others dispersing to their places for the night, or into Fleabottom for more revelry.
You try to sleep, but it will not come, Cregan and Aemond’s words echoing in your sleepless mind, until finally you throw off your blankets and wrap a robe around your nightshift.
You creep through the halls, no true direction in mind, letting your feet take you where they wished, when a flicker of umber catches your eye. Pressing yourself behind a pillar, you wait a moment then peek out.
“Lord Stark, might I be allowed to enter?” Cerelle Peake’s voice is soft, as was required for the late hours.
“Lady Peake, might I ask why you wish to enter my chambers?” Cregan asks, his words thick with sleep. His hair is loose, his night shift exposing his broad chest.
“I thought perhaps you might enjoy some company.” She says, as she takes a step towards him, moving to run a finger down his chest.
Cregan catches her hand and gently returns it to her side. “I do not wish for your company, Lady Peake. Please return to your chambers quietly, and I will not speak with your father about this.”
Cerelle scoffs and turns on her heel, storming down the hallway. You wait until Cregan’s door closed then follow her.
Halfway there, you know where she was going, you have walked these halls many times. Not wanting to further your own pain, you turn back to your own chambers, but your feet disobey you, and you find yourself in front of Cregan’s door.
You knock before you could stop yourself and the door swing open, a tired and angry Cregan standing before you. “Lady Peake, I do not need any comp—” His words die on his lips as he realizes it was you and not Cerelle. “Y/N?”
“All those things you said, about my beauty, about me, did you mean them? Truly?” Tears prick at the backs of your eyes, your chest tight, your bottom lip trembling.
Cregan rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Do not tell me you woke me only to hear more flattery.”
A sob escapes your lips. “I thought you said it was truth, not flattery.”
Cregan snaps awake, pulling you into his arms. “Little fox, I am sorry, I was half asleep, yes, yes, it is truth.”
You cling to him, gripping his night shirt, your face buried in his chest as you sob, every fear, every pain spilling out into his warm embrace. “Tell me you meant it, that you see me in your dreams, that you want me, in all lights, all seasons, that I am not destined to wait forever for someone to love me.”
“I love you, y/n, I love you, you do not need to wait, I will tell you as many times as you desire. I meant it, all of it, you haunt my dreams, you plague my waking thoughts, I want you in at any time, in any manner, or light, or moment I can have you.” He says, his voice is steady, and you can feel the vibrations of it deep in his chest, alongside the sound of his beating heart.
“I want to go with you to Winterfell, I want to be your Lady of the North, or even just your mistress if my house is not a good enough match, Cregan I do not care. I love you and all I care about is that we are not parted, that we are never parted, I do not think I will be able to breathe if we are parted.” You confess, looking up at him afraid to see what you saw in Aemond’s eye.
Cregan cups your face and kisses you, the taste of honeyed ale on his tongue, his hands warm as he keeps you close, using his foot to kick the door closed so he can press you against it.
Now in the safety of his chambers he breaks the kiss, your breaths intermingling. “You will not be a mistress, you will be my wife, none will come before you.”
“Will you tell your people, will they know?” You ask, your lips brushing against his with each word.
“I will wake the whole Red Keep to announce it now if you wish.” He says, his forehead resting against yours.
You reconnect your lips with his, his stubble brushing against your skin, but you pay it no mind, letting Cregan devour you, his hands moving into your hair, as you loop your arms around his neck, keeping him close.
He groans against you, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, delving in when you part them and exploring every inch of you. “My little fox, my y/n, my wife, my beautiful, clever wife.” He presses the words into your skin, heated lips trailing down to your pulse point.
“Husband.” You sigh, tilting your neck further exposing yourself to him, his teeth sinking into the skin claiming you as his own.
“Say it again for me, my wife, tell me who I am.” He breaths, sucking, and nipping at your neck, returning to darken the marks between creating new ones.
“You, Cregan, my husband.” You say, eyes snapping open when he releases you and stalks over to the window.
He threw it open and stuck his head out, shouting. “Y/N Y/H/N, is to be my wife.”
You rush forward and pull him from the window with a scandalized giggle. “Cregan it is the middle of the night.”
“Then at the very least a few guards heard.” He says, pulling you close and kissing you again, in full view of the window, the moon, anyone else who might look up, and it is exactly as you want it.
I lied in the comments imma do a part two I’ve given into the peer pressure stay tuned my loves!!!
HOTD taglist: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhh, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshh, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart, @just-emmaaaa, @crazylokonugget, @hedahobbit98, @devils-blackrose, @mercedesdecorazon, @snh96, @imjustboredso, @izzicle, @hiatuswhore, @aslanvez, @devils-blackrose, @yentroucnagol, @queenofshinigamis, @partyposion00, @cryptidsrcool, @jennifer0305
#meg's writing#hotd#aemond targaryen x reader#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x y/n#aemond x reader#this one is so long omg#it hurt me to write Aemond like this I love him so much#cregan stark
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Hi reqesting a headcanon where in another au toji's wife died while giving birt to megumi and so Toji was by himself and had no clue on how to raise a kid so he went to a parenting class where he met male!reader who also his also a single father. Toji starts falling for male!reader
₊˚ʚ Toji HC’s . ₊˚✧ ﾟ.
Note ~ of course, thank you so much for the request!!
MENTIONS — MaleTeacher!Reader, SFW, Fluff?, mentions of death and struggle, kissing, Toji falls in love with reader, Reader takes care of Megumi, some angst-ish, love confessing.
࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
— After Toji’s wife died he wasn’t really in a good state but he still had to try for the thing she left, their child, Megumi. He didn’t know how to take care of their child and he was completely lost, he’d searched up online if there were any type of learning ways on how to raise a child, there were classes he could attend for people like him. Who were also confused on how to raise a child.
— Toji started attending these parenting classes, at first he was confused but he kind of got the hang of it?..you’d have to help and correct him here and there but that’s what these classes were for, for you to help those who were confused, especially him.
— Toji appreciated your help a lot, he’d even ask if you could give him extra time to figure some things out he wasn’t sure on and you agreed, he was a nice guy and was a caring father trying for his child of course you’d say yes with no hesitation.
— During the times you did extra lessons with him the more you knew about him, and his child. You felt bad for him especially his child. The mother had passed away to birth due to a lot of blood loss, you felt bad for Toji and his child, Megumi. Toji would assure you that it’s okay and he’s grateful he has a helping hand with Megumi and someone who could help him during these hard times.
— Toji was a tough guy to crack, you couldn’t really read his emotions or tell how he was feeling. You both weren’t on that level of trust yet to were he’d tell you everything, Toji needed help with his child that is what he was there for. Not for friends..he didn’t see you as a friend a bad thing though. He just didn’t want to get distracted from the main point at hand, his child’s future.
— Little by little Toji has been picking up what you’ve been teaching him and he was glad he was able to raise Megumi correctly, he would thank you and you were a great help. He’d sometimes gave you a small genuine smile that you rarely see, a different side of him. He really was a sweet guy.
— as weeks, months, and maybe a year went by Megumi was growing up fast, Toji would sometimes come to you for help with Megumi when he was confused on behavior or what to do with Megumi’s change of growth. He’d even tell you that Megumi took his first steps recently and began speaking slowly, you were happy to hear that especially from the lessons you gave Toji you were glad he was putting them to use.
— Time from time Toji would invite you over to his place or even ask you out, as friends of course. He wanted to show his appreciation and also wanted to get closer to you, to be close with someone who helped him through a hard time and is still helping him. Usually he would take you for a bite to eat or a stroll out bringing Megumi, of course you didn’t mind because he was a single father and had no one else to take care of him.
— Toji felt closer to you, trusted you more, he told you how he was feeling more often and was more soft with you. He felt a strange feeling when around you or when talking with you..a good feeling? Like his body was happy and his insides felt fuzzy and warm, he couldn’t help but smile around you. He’d always ask how you are and if you are busy with work so the both of you can make plans, and if you’re free he’d always snatch you up after work. You loved when Megumi came along he was really cute, he even learned how to say your name. It made your heart melt, he was such an adorable kid and Toji was such a good father, you also felt a way towards him but you tried to push those feelings aside, he lost his wife almost a year ago and he was a single father, plus was he even gay? You were sure but didn’t want to push the matter. You were glad the both of you were good friends anyways.
— months go on, you both are still great friends. Toji would still come around to your work place here and there to ask for help or what he should do with/for Megumi. And of course..you were more than happy to help.
— Toji starts to feel something towards you..at first he thought it was just him being comfortable with you but he figured out it was more than that, at first he tried to deny it. He wasn’t gay, he couldn’t be, he has a wife..or well he had one. He feels a romantic feeling towards you and he’s unsure if it’s mutual, he assume it isn’t because he’s just some guy who could barely afford his rent and needs help to take care of a kid. Who’d want a guy like that? Sure he was good looking but he didn’t think he’d even have qualities of a partner. He tried to push those feelings aside and just wanted to remain your friend, he doesn’t want to lose what he has with you already.
— Toji who would always text and call you showing you how Megumi was doing and always made sure to thank you, it really made your day. It was so cute on how good of a father Toji was, he was so sweet towards Megumi honestly so heart warming, you’d reassure him it was no problem and that was what you were there for.
— Toji was usually busy with work to provide for himself and Megumi, but he managed to pull through. Especially thanks to your help, it didn’t help his feelings what so ever, his feelings towards you grew even stronger. He was beginning to love you and he couldn’t control it. To Toji you were such a sweet and cute guy, he’s never felt that way about a man like that before, and he’s never even gave it though..dating a guy? He wasn’t sure anyways. He tried to shove those thoughts away but couldn’t due to the image of you he had in his head. A sweet, caring, loving guy who was great with kids. To him you were also very pretty, very handsome, you made his heart flutter whenever he saw you.
— Toji couldn’t get you out of his mind so he got a sitter for the day and invited you out, he wanted to take a walk and have a talk with you. You happily obliged and were curious to what he wanted to talk about, once the both of you were hanging out he explained to you how he was feeling.
“Hey, sorry for the random call, jus’ wanted to talk to ya’ about sumthin’.” He spoke looking at you, gazing into your eyes before looking away, you told him it was okay and not to worry about it! As the two of you were walking and taking a stroll in the park he confessed..he told you how he was feeling about you and wanted to know how you felt, you looked happy, your eyes where glimmering with happiness as you gave him a warm smile and spoke back to him, “I’ve also felt that way towards you as well, Toji! I did not know you’d feel something like that towards— towards me..it’s honestly quite shocking but I’m really happy.” You hugged him tightly as he hugged you back wrapping his arms around your torso. He smiled before he used his hand to lift up your chin and slowly lean towards you, he kissed you gently and softly. You gasped but got used to it and kissed him back, melting into the kiss as you felt like you were on cloud nine.
— Toji who started dating you after that day happened, he’d cover Megumi’s eyes when you and him would kiss, he’d compliment you, tell you how much he loves you, he’d try his best to spoil you in anyway he can. He’s completely infatuated with you, Inlove, it wasn’t a bad thing because so were you.
— you and Toji moved in together a few months after dating, you would help around with Megumi as he was working, of course you still did you job too you would even bring Megumi to work with you occasionally. You and Toji shared a room, he was sweet to you, he’d help you as much as he could, he’d go on about how much he loves you, protects you, tells you he will always make sure you’re safe and loved when you’re with him
࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃
#jjk x male reader#male!reader#gay#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#x reader#male reader#x male reader#x male y/n#toji x reader#toji headcanons#toji smut#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro#toji zenin#toji x y/n#toji x you#jjk x y/n#x y/n#jjk headcanons#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#fluff
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LOCK YOUR PHONE!
synopsis. a secret relationship. a fantasy.
content. itoshi sae x cisfem!reader. aged up characters (+20). fluffy but suggestive. implied sexy times. profanity. secret relationship. sending and receiving nudes. sae's kinda possessive in this but there's nothing crazy. lowercase intended.
wc. 1.3k
message from noe. i adore him i fear... listen to billie nossa nova by billie eilish for a better experience. been wanting to write something based on this song for a while and i thought sae fit perfectly! enjoy.
there’s a warm body in sae’s bed.
his still asleep brain takes a second to make the connection; the softness of you under him is no longer a feeling he’s used to. he puts two and two together, eventually, and wraps his arms tighter around you. awake, but unwilling to let the moment end, he buries his face into your neck.
too late. you stir, push yourself away from him. he can’t bring himself to blame you: it’s hot in the room, hot under the sheets.
there will be no more sleeping for him, but it isn’t too late for you — with that thought in mind he too rolls away, blinking once, twice, context coming back to him as his surroundings do.
the bed is neither his nor yours, though he could have put that together himself — the satin sheets gliding on his skin in such an alien way.
creams and soft pinks blur before his eyes, pale under the early morning’s light. paris. the hotel room he booked for you in a haze, almost feverish in his longing for you.
the downside of keeping a relationship under wraps, he supposes: his noose-tight schedule and the hawk eye of the public force meetings to be few and far in-between, the secret protected like crown jewels. he knows you’re tired of it; he knows because he is, too. it’s exhausting, constantly looking over his shoulder when taking you to his place, or on his way to yours. it’s exhausting, always having to find a different hang out spot, for fear of the media figuring him out. it’s exhausting, waking up and wondering: is today the day the world sinks its teeth into you?
sae’s never cared to keep secrets, at least never willingly — he says things as they are, does things as they need doing, full transparency, if it’s up to him.
it’s exhausting, it is. but that’s just one more thing on the list — and it’s so. damn. worth it. every downside comes with an upside, or else itoshi sae wouldn’t ever bother.
these hidden moments sae shares with you, no one else is privy to them. only he gets to know you like this, love you like this, warm and soft underneath him. no one knows because no one needs to know. just you and him.
no one gets to see you in your entirety: the shine of your eyes when they land on him; the loving curve of your mouth as you smile at him.
everything that belongs to you. for him only.
the face you made when you first entered today’s suite will stick with him for a while, he thinks. the pure delight and adoration shining in your eyes. your lips parting in wonder. all for him. all because of him. your princess room, that’s what you’d called it. a child’s dream, delicate in its simplicity, crushed and torn apart by the cruel world’s sharp, sharp teeth. stitched back together by him.
he knows how it feels, to be ripped to shreds. he’s glad he can do this for you, at the very least.
the world awakens and so does he; slumber slipping through his fingers as he rubs it away from his eyes, tiny sand grains leaving a small sting behind. he slept well. better than usual.
his phone is still on do not disturb. he doesn’t bother checking the time.
sae sits up, covers dropping to his thighs. beside him, you stir again, whine a little. maybe you can feel him leaving, even now in your sleep, feel the shadow of his absence. maybe you’re just bothered by his movements rocking the mattress. either way, you sleep. finding his pants in the mess of the suite bedroom, without the aggressive light of his phone’s flashlight to aid him, proves to be no easy task, but he manages eventually. he slips them on and slips away, closing the bedroom door softly.
it isn’t much brighter in the living space. the lazy sun is barely rising, only the idea of it permeating the gradual brightening of the sky.
phone still clutched in his hand, sae lets himself drop on the abnormally large leather couch, massaging the tender spots you viciously bit into his neck. with just a few swipes, he’s opened his camera roll. time to collect the prize: the surprise you leave for him after every passionate encounter.
the first time you did it, he didn’t even notice until a few days after the fact, when he went browsing through his pictures for a home screen-worthy photo of you.
there it was: a beautifully crafted souvenir of the time spent together. the flash of his phone camera punctuating every shot, barely noticed in the heat of the moment. the red of the set you wore that day.
selfies of you before, and after. your lingerie still intact — and the canvas of your chest painted purple by his loving mouth. not a single video, but at least a dozen pictures: of you, of him, of the two of you together.
a gift from you to him — one that had his blood boiling, had him flushed, aching, yearning all over again.
he sent you his favorite of the bunch — a mirror selfie of you, chest painted purple, a teasing finger pulling your bottom lip down — followed by a question mark. a wordless interrogation.
finally, thought you were never gonna see them, 11:22pm
-is the answer he got.
want more? 11:23pm
and he did. and he got more.
it’s been a while, since then — long enough for it to become a tradition, a little present left in his phone after a secret rendez-vous. so you don’t forget me, you joke.
but how could he?
he’s learned a lot, since that first time. the most important: you’re a fucking tease. lighting, cropping, outfit, pose, it’s an art form to you, down to the time it is for him, when you press send. more often than not, he gets the pictures in the middle of the day, when he can see but can’t do anything.
you’re decent enough to warn him beforehand, at least.
you better lock your phone ;)
and then the raunchiest picture he’s ever seen — you outdo yourself every time — is all over his screen. he’s had many, many close calls. you don’t stop. he never asks you to. he loves the damn pics.
always pictures, never videos — they’re not your thing, he’s learned. not that it matters.
sae would’ve never guessed you’d be such a great soft porn photographer.
the couch’s leather sticks to his skin as he moves, trying to get just a bit more comfortable. he’s about to open his camera roll, ready to unwrap his present, when shuffling near his head startles him out of his reverie.
“why’d you leave?” you murmur, voice still rough with sleep.
you’re completely wrapped in a thin sheet, the only barrier between his hungry eyes and your soft, soft skin. the only glimpse he gets is that of your ankles. a small golden chain rests there, snug. his name is spelled out among the links, hidden. for his eyes only. his chest constricts, almost painfully.
he doesn’t answer; only opens his arms so you can take your rightful place tucked against him. you lay down, covering the both of you with the sheet.
the sun finally peeks from below the horizon, warming your face. it’s peaceful.
“i didn’t want to wake you,” sae decides to say.
you shrug. “more time with you.”
he feels the same — still, your sleep and your comfort take precedence over anything, for him. over anything.
you look so beautiful, like this. waking the sun, blessed by its gentle glow. for his eyes only.
it won’t last. he knows it won’t — secrets never stay secret for long. but for now, simply living like this is enough, more than enough. enjoying the sun. enjoying you.
sae slept well. better than usual. you’re warm on his chest, traces of you warm on his skin. there’s a present waiting for him in his camera roll.
it won’t last — but it won’t hurt to enjoy it while it does.
you fall back asleep quickly, lulled by his steady heartbeat. he follows easily. his dreams are swaddled in creams and soft pinks, and the warmth of the sun on his chest.
LOVERSMANTRA © 2024, all rights reserved. do not translate, crosspost, or copy. steal my work and i'll steal your kneecaps. bitch.
#☆ — by noe#❥ — sae#bllk#blue lock#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x you#itoshi sae x y/n#blue lock x reader#blue lock scenarios#blue lock x you#itoshi sae fluff#itoshi sae smut#blue lock fanfiction
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Character Introductions
(yes, I know I should've done this before the first part was posted but I didn't so y'all get it now)
-------------------
Nika Mühl as herself
Height: 5’11
Age: 20
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#10), Croatia (#10)
Nicknames: Mühl, Love, Secretary Of Defense, Pookie (only by Paige)
Nationality: Croatian
Instagram: nika.muhl
Alt: nikalovesbball
“I don’t like her like that, we’re just friends, nothing more.”
“I don’t know what I want yet, but I do know that I want it with you. Not someone like you, it’s you that I want.”
“You know, I was always a Chelsea fan.”
You as Yourself (shhh, just imagine.)
Height: Tall as fuck
Age: 18
School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#10), England WNT (#10/2+8)
Nicknames: Grumpy, Kid/Kiddo, Troll Child (Leah), Baby, Tiny (only by Paige), Captain
Nationality: English
Instagram: y/n.y/l/n
Alt: norflondonforever
“North London forever, whatever the weather, these streets are our own.”
“I want a beach house in Barcelona, with the most amazing view of the water. And maybe a dog, or a cat. And I want to run a small surf shop at the corner of the beach, hidden away from everything. That’s what my legacy will be, just you me and our beach house in Barca.”
“Sorry coach, I gotta go see ‘bout a girl.”
Gabbi Broussard as Emma 'Em' Whitmore
Height: 5’9
Age: 20
School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#18), USWNT (#28)
Nicknames: Em, Emily, Emma Hayes (only by you to annoy her), Ugly
Nationality: American/Canadian
Instagram: emwhit18
Alt: thebetterwhitmore
“Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from Flushed Away.”
“I think you need to stop thinking about what everyone else wants and start thinking about what you want. This situation, it’s not your fault that you caught feelings, but it is your fault that you’re pushing her away, so man the fuck up and do the right thing.”
“Will you stop singing that already?”
Callum Turner as Callum 'Cal' Whitmore
Height: 6’4
Age: 23
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Men’s Basketball Team(#26), US Men’s Basketball(#22)
Nicknames: Cal, Gollum, The Rat from Flushed Away
Nationality: American/Canadian
Instagram: callumwhitmore
Alt: nottheratfromflushedaway
“I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.”
“Em, dad called, he said shut up.”
“Watching you trying to flirt is the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”
Robert Sean Leonard as Coach 'Dad' Daniels
Height: 6’0
Age: 66
School/Team: Head Coach of Harvard Women’s Soccer Team
Nicknames: Coach, Dad, Coach Dad, Pops, Ancient Being
Nationality: American
Instagram: headcoachdaniels
Alt: doesn’t have one, he’s too much of an old fart
“It’s called intermittent fasting, look it up, you should try it sometime.”
“No, for the last time, me and Coach Hansen aren’t secretly married with two dogs, you all need less free time to come up with theories like that, this isn’t dead poet’s society. Extra training sessions the whole week out.”
“Are those hickeys? Okay ladies, when you want to have sex make sure to cover up the evidence after, I do not need to know more about your intimate lives than I already do.”
Ethan Hawke as Coach Hansen
Height: 5’11
Age: 62
School/team: Harvard Men’s Soccer Team Head Coach
Nicknames: Coach Daniels’ Husband, Dad #2, Mr. Sir
Nationality: American/British
Instagram: headcoachhansen
Alt: an old fart like his husband, so no alt for him
“So you kids thought you’d get a different answer from me than from Coach Daniels? Why are you kids so incessant on trying to find out if we’re together or not.”
“Don’t tell anyone, but I kissed Coach Daniels last night. It was like something straight out of a movie, something so poetic about it.”
“This is Buddy, me and Coach Daniels adopted him so that he could be our mascot. No other reason.”
Paige Bueckers as herself
Height: 6’0
Age: 20
School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#5), USA Women’s Basketball Team (#5)
Nicknames: PBuckets, PB&J, The Third Jonas Brother
Nationality: American
Instagram: paigebueckers
Alt: p5buckets
“I’ll beat you on Fifa all day every day.”
“God Nika, admit it, you like her. I can see it from a mile away and this thing you’re doing, this back and forth, will they won’t they, is going to hurt you both in the end. All I’m suggesting is that you evaluate what you want from this relationship and then take it from there.”
“I’m always right, it’s scientifically impossible for me to be wrong.”
Leah Williamson as herself
Height: 5’7
Age: 25
School/Team: Arsenal Women’s Team (#6), England WNT (#6/8/5)
Nicknames: Lee, Will, Spurs Nr 1 Fan, Oldie, Capi
Nationality: English
Instagram: leahwilliamsonn
Alt: will.i.am.son
“I’M NOT A SPURS FAN, STOP SAYING THAT.”
“Y’know in all the time I’ve known you kid, I’ve never seen you this enamoured with someone, you’re so in love it’s making me sick.”
“You’re like the little sister I never had.”
Lucy Bronze as herself
Height: 5’7
Age: 30
School/Team: FC Barcelona Femení (#15), England WNT (#2)
Nicknames: Lucia, Robert, Luce, Prehistoric Being, Dad
Nationality: English/Portuguese
Instagram: lucybronze
Alt: bronzesilvergold
“Ugh, the ladies just love me don’t they.”
“I’m down with the lingo, I’ve got so much rizz that the boomers come running. Cowabunga.”
“Love is…love is effortless, it makes you feel all jittery and when you’re around them you feel like you can do anything. You’ll know it once you feel it kid, don’t try to rush the process, let it wash over you like the waves at the beach.”
Everyone else as themselves, also the other's alt instagrams will explained when they appear
#woso#woso x reader#lionesses#arsenal wfc#woso imagines#wbb x reader#uconn wbb#nika muhl#nika muhl x reader#10/10 series#harvard women's soccer team
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Do you wanna dance? - Matty Healy
A/N: i couldn't help myself, these two deserve to be happy forever and ever xx
this is a part two to this request i did earlier, but can also be read separately!!
wc: 3k
content warnings: mentions of drugs (weed), cursing, typical MPIND banter, kissing, a touch suggestive?
May, 2009
“I’m so fucking boreddd, kill me now.” you drag your feet on the ground, letting yourself be pulled along by Matty, his hand tightly clasped against yours. He rolls his eyes, begging you to walk properly, and that you would find something to do soon.
“Carolines?” he suggests, pointing in the general direction of the old paper factory, it being maybe a 25 minutes walk from where you were currently at. You raise your eyebrows at him, a skeptical look on your face. “Really?” you ask, whining about how your feet hurt and you didn't want to walk any further.
“Pretty please, I promise I'll make it worth your while.” he lowers his voice, winking at you cheekily. A groan leaves your lips, and you shove him off to the side, taking a swig from a freshly opened bottle of cheap tesco wine.
“I’d do alot for you,” you burp, making Mattys face scrunch up in disgust “but i am not shagging you on a terrace, not a chance in fuck.” he laughs like music to your ears, a gross snort slipping out.
You suggest calling your other mates, inviting them for a few drinks on the balcony, just like old times. That small platform just off the main office held dear memories, good and bad. Matty immediately shakes his head, bringing your hand away from the phone in your pocket. “Just you and me, no one else.” He sounds different, you couldn't quite place it.
“Carry me.” you joke, pressing a dramatic hand to your forehead. Imagine your surprise when you feel a firm hand press against your back, and another wrap around the back of your knees, hauling you up. Your hip hits the bare skin on Mattys chest, another ‘stylistic’ choice of his, only being covered in a thin, see through black shirt.
“Jesus, fuck, let me down!!” you scream, attempting to push him away.
All he does is giggle at your struggle, only pulling you closer, planting a sweet kiss on your lips.
“D’you think I'm too weak to carry you?” you huff, letting out a frustrated sigh.
“I’m too heavy, you’ll proper hurt yourself-” he laughs again, almost in disbelief. “Oh, come off it, I'm pretty strong, you know!” you roll your eyes, shooting him a worried look. He nods, leaning in to give you what you think is another kiss.
Instead, he fucking licks across your face, making you squirm away at the odd feeling.
“Perv.” you spit, turning your head away from him. He nuzzles his face into your freshly curled hair, humming contentedly as he starts walking down the sidewalk. You notice him adjusting his hands a few times, trying to get a better grip, so you ask to be let down. He refuses, like he’s trying to prove something to someone. It was no use, he was going to see this through, apparently.
It was wet, the rain from a few hours prior making everything smell like damp concrete. It was barely sunset, the sky painted several shades of blue, purple and orange, clouds sparsely littering the sky. Trees were finally starting to green again, and the warm air kissed your skin, warning you of the hot summer to come. It was late May, breezy and comfortable, even if it was pissing it down most of the time, you didn't mind it, rarely getting sick anyway.
The back entrance was covered by stacks of cardboard, soggy and flimsy from the rain. Matty tries to set you down gracefully onto a rock nearby, miserably failing as when trips over his own feet, sending you both flying down onto the soft, grassy ground.
Laughing at the stumble, he kisses you while you're still under him, gripping your cheeks between his fingertips. The moment doesn't last long, wet dirt sullying the back of your shirt, making you whine like a small child. He reluctantly rolls off you, offering a hand to help you stand. Wobbly on your very impractical heels, Matty takes a jab at your choice of footwear.
“Who wears heels to go walk around? You've got fucking ankles of steel or something, thats mad.” he laughs, gesturing at your red platforms, thin straps the only thing keeping them attached to your feet.
“They’re platforms.” you correct him “You’d know that, if you knew anything ever. Fuck you, you’re just jealous i’m taller now.” It was true, you towered slightly over him, even if only a few inches, it gave you a sense of power.
Twirling your hair around your fingers, you let Matty lead you up the stairs, hand firmly gripping your wrist. His nails were painted black to match, though they were significantly more chipped than yours, the nail polish peeling off in chunks.
Still, you found it endearing how he always wanted to use the things you did, whether it be makeup, clothes, even colors. What was yours was his, and what was his was yours, evident au cause de the blue top you were wearing. The stupid tourist shirt, his prized possession.
The wind had died down a bit by the time you reached the smashed glass door leading to the terrace. Ross had managed to fall through it one night, absolutely wrecked off half a bottle of tito’s, no mixer. The four of you spent hours afterwards trying to pick small shards of glass out of a blacked out Ross, utterly convinced he was dying of alcohol poisoning. Fucking drama queen.
Orange light floods the terrace, painting the worn down sofa in a warm hue. Matty smirks slightly as he plops down onto it, patting the space beside him, asking a silent question. You smile, the sight of him making your heart swell up with love. God, he looked beautiful, it was almost too much. Thicker chunks of his hair were now dyed blonde, streaks of pink peeking through. Impulse decision, though a good one, the bit of color really suited him.
“You got any?” he asks, tucking both his hands behind his head, spreading his legs, his shirt riding up slightly. A suggestion.
“What do you take me for?” you giggle, already pulling out your weed. He never brought his own, insisting that if you wanted to roll them yourself, you’d also buy it. His logic was deeply flawed, but honestly, you loved him too much to tell him.
Rolling the spliff, flashes of memories flip through your mind, you hear Hann’s voice.
‘Girls don't roll their own spliffs’ God, he was such a dickhead.
“Girls don’t roll their own spliffs.” you giggle, grinning at Matty as you lick it closed, admiring your work. George had given you a few tips, and you’d actually gotten better. Mattys angelic laugh fills your ears, bouncing off the concrete walls.
“Fuck yeah, I'm your girl.” he says proudly, brushing tangled curls out of his face, slightly more tan than usual, the sun having branded his fair skin. Your eyes roll of their own accord, and you nudge him with your elbow, muttering quietly.
“Shut up mate, honestly.” he lets out a dramatic gasp at your words, pressing a hand to his chest is faux shock.
“Do mates do this?” You jump as he snatches the spliff out of your hand, grabbing your face just like he did on the grass before, pressing a hot kiss right beside your mouth, just missing it. Biting back a moan, you feel his tongue slip past your lips, running across your own.
“Okay, fuck off now, thanks.” you smile, unable to stop yourself. Not when he looked at you with such joy, eyes glimmering in the warm light.
He hands the joint back to you, your hands brushing against each other. It felt loving, purposeful, real.
Grabbing the lighter from your right pocket, you run your fingers across the worn rhinestone, fondly remembering the day he’d made it for you.
The way he was reluctant at first, only giving in after you physically dragged him through the doors of the hobby shop, forcing him to pick out decorations. His concentrated expression as he tried to pick off the cheap stones, having to let you help him do it after numerous failed attempts. It was one of your favorite days with him, wishing you could relive it a thousand times over.
Laying back, you hold it in front of you, rotating it over the flame to get an even burn. The smell flooding your senses, you close your eyes, bringing the spliff to your lips. Inhaling deeply, you feel Matty shuffle next to you, shifting and making the sofa creak under him. You try to ignore it, keeping your eyes shut as you feel the drug hit your system, a warm, weightless sensation enveloping you. It was when he moved for the third time that you snapped your eyes open, going to complain.
“Christ, will you stop moving around like tha-” your words get caught in your throat, dying out.
He wasn't in the spot next to you anymore. No, he was on the floor. On the floor, on one knee, holding a small, red velvet box in his right hand. Your breath hitches as you notice the expression on his face. Anxiety. You could speak, hell, you could barely fucking think. Matty was in front of you, kneeling, holding a white diamond that was shimmering in the light, like a goddamn dream.
You watch as he opens his mouth to speak several times, closing it before any sound comes out. His eyes fill with panic as you sit up, eyes wide in shock. He was proposing. Properly proposing, with a ring and everything, down on one knee. You’re convinced this is a dream, of a fucking hallucination, something more believable than what was actually happening in front os you.
“Marry me?” he forces out, hand slightly shaking as you look him up and down, mouth completely dry. You felt tears stream down your face. Obviously, with Matty not being able to read your mind, his eyes dart around your features, trying to gauge what your reaction meant.
“Holy shit, what the fuck is wrong with you.” are the first words you say, hands coming up to shield your face. The panic only grew as he tries to speak, only things coming out being bits of words and ‘sorry’.
Shaking your head violently, you reach out your hand, presenting your ring finger. Tears well up in Mattys own eyes, dangerously close to rolling down his puffy cheeks.
“Yes, oh my god, I fucking love you so much.” you scream, bouncing off your spot on the sofa, lunging towards a very emotional Matty. You catch his lips in a kiss, wrapping your arms around him tightly, not daring to let go
“Really? You’ll marry me?” he says in genuine disbelief, his left hand gripping your lower back, pulling you close.
“Of course i’ll marry you Matty, christ.” he pushes you away, giddily slipping the silver ring onto your ring finger, planting a soft kiss to the metal.
“Fucking hell that is a boulder.” you look at the diamond in awe, the stone basically blinding you. He grins from ear to ear, grabbing the fabric of your top, kissing you softly, a gentle warmth spreading throughout your body as your lips make contact.
“Only the best for my wife.” giggles leave his lips, delirious and ecstatic, disbelief still evident in the way his eyes rake over you, settling on the ring. Pressing a hand to your cheeks, he thumbs the tears away, kissing all over your face. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, threatening to burst out of your chest.
“Bit early, innit?” you comment, sucking in a deep breath, eyes glued to Mattys. You're both on your knees, concrete digging into the skin of your legs. It was cold, uncomfortable, but you truly couldn't care less.
“Never too early, Mrs. Healy” he smirks in that cheeky way of his, both hands settling onto your shoulder, rubbing small shapes into your skin. The moment doesn't feel real, nothing does. You hope to god that this isn't a dream, that that this was really happening.
“Can Hann be the flower girl?” your inability to be serious for five fucking seconds shines through, the both of you falling into each others arms, uncontrollably laughing. Mattys eyes crease as he giggles, the feel of his hands on your body is heavenly, l of his hands touching your skin makes you truly believe you've reached a higher plane of existence.
“Only if he wears the dress.”
“Deal.” you say, knowing well that getting Adam Hann into a dress would require months of begging, maybe even bribery. You would probably need to buy him a fucking house to get him to even consider it.
More laughter, more kissing, more planning a future neither of you had ever actually thought possible. A future with each other.
Matty fumbles around in his pockets, pulling out his Ipod, initials erratically scratched into the metal. You raise your eyebrows at him, asking a silent question of ‘what the fuck?’
“Do you wanna dance?” he asks, smirking at you as he swiftly stands up, extending his hand. This is so incredibly cliché, and you know that yourself, but you can't bring yourself to care.
His fingers press one earphone into your ear, before doing the same to his own. He smiles sweetly, expression softening. This was true, raw, unbridled love.
“Can I choose the song?” you ask, fingers trailing down Mattys jaw as he settles his hands onto your waist. Nodding, he hands you the Ipod, letting you select whatever you wanted.
“I love you so much, my darling girl.” he mumbled into your hair, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine.
“Stop being such a sap,” you laugh, quickly adding a “I love you too.” as to not offend him. As if he would be offended.
Suffragette City blared through the headphones, the music filling every corner of your being. Your hips swayed, and so did his, guiding you lightly with the hands gripping you tightly.
You didn't speak, letting Matty spin and twirl you around, breaking out into fits of laughter when you almost tripped over your ridiculous heels. Fuck, they were really a bad idea.
Stopping for a second, you reach down to unclasp your shoes, kicking them off without a second thought.
“Already taking your clothes off? We haven't even said our vows yet-” he teases, being met with a sharp look and a hand threaded into his hair, pulling him into a deep kiss.
“Don't ruin the moment, you wanker.” you mutter against his lips, licking into his mouth as you let him take back control of your movements.
You don't know how long you dance for, but by the time the two of you finally come up for air, the sun had almost completely disappeared behind the tall buildings of the city.
Your life together flashes through your mind. That very first kiss. That night in The Sound. Ruby. The drugs. The lighter, smashed into little bits. Your fight with the guys. The night he had called you, shaking and crying, scared. The photos. The sight of him, down on one knee.
This was it. Everything that had happened; every mistake, every fight, every passionate kiss, every gasp of pleasure when skin met skin, every tear shed since that night at the bus stop had been leading up to this final moment.
You and Matty,
Matty and you
Forever.
Properly this time
The music faded, the sound of rainfall pattering loudly against the metal roof replaced it.
A Suffragette City, A Suffragette City
Quite all right
A Suffragette City
Too fine
A Suffragette City, ooh, A Suffragette City
Oh, my Suffragette City, oh my Suffragette City
Ah, Suffragette
Suffragette!
#i actually cried during this#its so sweet#no smut for once surprise surprise#the 1975#matty healy#ross macdonald#adam hann#george daniel#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy smut#matty healy angst#matty healy fluff#matty healy x reader#the 1975 fanfic#the 1975 fic#the 1975 fanfiction#the 1975 smut
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I feel like so much of what I try to explore in my fics about Sirius whether it’s Slytherin Sirius or whump is how bullshit “sacrifice” is when it comes to love. Dying and suffering for someone only takes you away from the people who need you. Diminishing yourself for someone does nothing. It proves nothing. I have a HUGE problem with this in the books.
This comes up a lot in my job as a teacher. I am NOT going to sacrifice my free time and devote my life to my job. I am a good teacher, and my students need me to keep coming to school. If I burn out and sacrifice my life to teaching, I will not be able to come back and be there for them.
Yes, sometimes you DO need to sacrifice personal time/freedom for someone else, but if you do this consistently, you are modeling unhealthy behavior and demonstrating that your time/health doesn’t matter. We have a duty to each other, but you’ve got to have boundaries too.
With Sirius, I am trying to push back on this narrative. His death in OotP does not serve Harry—in fact, if Sirius had lived, many of the events of HBP and DH would have been VERY different. Anyway, my point is, I get so irritated by the idea that dying saves anyone. Obviously there are exceptions to everything in story, but damn, sacrifice is often just so pointless. Sirius is SO DEVOTED to Harry, but this one-track mind does not serve either of them in the end. I live for Sirius and Harry, and you can put your child first, but you are also a person and you matter too. This is an example of how our greatest strengths can be our weakness too.
#just reflecting on why i always make sirius so sad in fics#he’s just so lost#he doesn’t know what he wants for himself
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heyyyyy bestie it's wonuwrites xo
Soooo I have a request for you~ like I told you in messages I have a drabble/oneshot idea with a Taylor Swift song + Wonwoo because of course it's Wonwoo <3
So the song is the 1 by Taylor Swift.
Specifically this lyric:
"But we were something, don't you think so?
Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool
And if my wishes came true
It would've been you
In my defense, I have none
For never leaving well enough alone
But it would've been fun
If you would've been the one."
I am excited for this <33
Thank you for waiting! Sorry it took longer than I hoped!
Synopsis: After a year and a half of being broken up, you and Wonwoo reunite briefly. You think back to those days and what could have been different.
Tags: Ex!Wonwoo, Angst, Coffee Shop!AU, T.Swift Inspired Lyrics
Length: approx. 1.8k words
Wonwoo x Reader - The One I Couldn't Be
The café was always empty this early in the morning, and that was how you liked it. It took a few hours for the real foot traffic of the morning commuters to make its way to your work, and that meant a few hours of peace. The only sound was that of the oven whirring behind you, heating up for the string of breakfast sandwiches you were bound to start on.
You were dusting off the top of the display cases when you heard the sound of the bell ringing at the front entrance. Immediately, your head snapped up and you smiled. “Welcome, can I help you?”
When a familiar deep voice uttered your name, your eyes settled on a familiar set of dark eyes behind rimmed glasses and a warm smile.
“Wonwoo.” Despite how much time had passed, you breathed the name with so much familiarity. “Good morning!”
“Good morning.” He said. “Am I early? Are you open yet?”
“Barely. But that’s okay. What can I get you?” You turned towards the machines behind you. “The usual?”
“You still remember?” he chuckled at the realization.
How could I forget? You thought to yourself. “Of course. I only made it for you fifteen million times.” When Wonwoo laughed again, you felt yourself inhaling an extra deep breath. “So, what brings you in? I feel I haven’t seen you around here in a while.”
“I don’t have a reason to be around this part of Seoul anymore.” The comment tugged at your heartstrings, pulling them in the opposite direction and tightening your chest, like when a child tugs furiously at the laces of their shoes and squeezes their foot inside a bit too tight.
“What brings you today, then?” You watched the coffee brew into the pot. “It’s not to see me, is it?” Finally working up the courage to turn back to Wonwoo, you caught a small smile on his lips. His eyes cast down to the display case. “Do you want something to eat? I can pop a sandwich in the oven to warm up.”
Wonwoo shook his head. “I’m okay, thanks.” You approached the register and punched in the order. “How has everything been?”
“Good. You?”
“Fine. Still here.” You motioned to the muted brown walls decorated in florals that boxed you in. Wonwoo only hummed in response, and the both of you fell into awkward silence.
How else could it be with Jeon Wonwoo? Nothing other than awkward felt like it made sense anymore. It was expected really, when you’ve been broken up for almost a year and a half. It was a whirlwind, really, not even long enough for you to process that going forward any interactions with the one person you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with would feel awkward.
Maybe that was why it felt impossible to breathe; as if you were sitting at the bottom of the ocean for the entirety of that year and a half.
As you turned to the coffee machine and began assembling his drink. “Do you remember-.” You paused for a second, wondering if going down memory lane would add to the awkwardness. “When you and I would go to the mall and before we went shopping, we would toss a penny into the fountain outside?”
Wonwoo’s eyes shot up in your direction and he smiled. “Yeah. Of course. To make sure we could find what we were looking for that day.”
“Those were fun times.” You said, just loud enough for him to hear. Even if he gave a curt, one-word reply or a verbal nod, you would feel content. You would feel content knowing that those memories were just as dear to him as they had been to you – still were to you.
“Do you still do it?” You caught a slight tease in his voice though it was masked with a bit of shyness. It seemed even he was treading a tightrope of nostalgia in this moment, neither of you wanting to say too much and risk falling into the depths below.
“Do you?” Wonwoo only chuckled as you passed him his drink. He offered a small thank you. You smiled. “Are you taking this to go?”
Hesitation as Wonwoo scanned the area. “I think I can sit for a minute.” You nodded, watching as he took the first seat in the café; the one closest to you. He even faced you, and it felt like a year and a half ago for a second. Wonwoo sipped his coffee and smiled while you both talked until the café got busy and he was ultimately left for the morning to head to his own job. That is, until you two would see each other in the evenings and everything felt right again.
That part didn’t happen anymore.
“How’s the family?” You asked.
“They’re good. My parents are still my parents.”
“Workaholics?” You hummed, and Wonwoo’s laugh confirmed enough. “What about Bohyuk? Still in the whole fashion model business?”
“Took a break to finish his degree, but he said he wants to get back into it.”
Even in only a year and a half, a lot had changed in Wonwoo’s life. You couldn’t help but wonder how things would be different now if you had left well enough alone, bit down the things that felt so major at the time, but make you cringe in regret now. Did those things really matter? Would they have mattered to you now? The distance between the both of you is so big you’d need a boat to cross it and see him again just to fight about how long the trip took in the first place.
You could have left well enough alone because now all of those moments felt pointless, but not the same kind of pointless as watching two copper pennies drop to the bottom of the fountain’s water. A different, emptier kind of pointless that makes you regret.
Wonwoo decided to break up. While sitting on his bed, a movie idly playing in the background, he had mentioned it.
“We should take some time apart. I think it’s good for both of us.”
That time was a year and a half, a changed social media relationship post, and an ugly cry into the tub of ice cream Jeonghan bought you ago.
Pulling yourself back to the present with talk of life updates, dawning the mask of a sociable customer service worker, you choked out a: “What about you?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” You snorted. “Still at the same job? Still playing the same games? What’s new?”
Wonwoo was silent for a beat too long so you finally turned back to face him despite what your facial features might convey about your feelings. Wonwoo had the coffee cup to his lips, eyes cast at one of the decorative paintings hung up on the wall beside him. It had been changed twice since he was here last, and he seemed to notice.
“Different painting? I liked the old one.”
“Oh, you’re changing the subject? That must mean you have something juicy to hide?” Wonwoo didn’t chuckle or laugh under his breath this time. That made your teasing smile fall. “Sorry, maybe it’s not my business. I shouldn’t push.”
“Ah, no.” Wonwoo shook his head. “I was just debating on if I wanted to tell you when I came in here for coffee.”
“Tell me what?” You asked.
Wonwoo seemed a bit unsure. “I feel like it’s inappropriate. After all this time.”
“Is it some kinky thing?” Wonwoo finally laughed again, shaking his head. A bit of blush formed on his cheeks.
“You’re terrible. No.” You were silent despite a small smile on your face, watching as Wonwoo shifted in his seat. “I met someone.”
“Ah.” You didn’t intend for the sound to escape your lips, but when it did your chest deflated. “That’s lovely. Is she nice?” Of course, she is. You thought. Wonwoo only attracts nice people….
“She is.” He said. You could see the fondness in his eyes. “We met at this party Mingyu took me to about six months ago. We’re meeting up today about 15 minutes down the road.”
“The aquarium?” Wonwoo nodded. “Aw, that’s really nice.” Wonwoo’s eyes relaxed a bit, as did the rest of his body. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.” He seemed to have finished his coffee since he didn’t lift it up for more sips. “What about you?”
“Pah.” You scoffed. “Nothing but men looking for hook-ups, or the guys who won’t leave you alone when you’ve politely turned them down.”
“Ah, sorry to hear that.”
You shrugged passively because it didn’t bother you. “I’ve taken a break from all that. This-.” You motioned to the four walls and the display case in front of you. “-Causes me more than enough stress.” A beat of silence, and you added. “I’m happy for you, though.”
“Thank you.” He got up from his seat and walked back over to the display case. For a second his eyes dropped to it, scanning the contents. “I think I might take something to eat for the trip.”
“Okay.” Hands reached into the case and pulled out two muffins, chocolate chip and blueberry. “Here.”
“Ah. Two?” He blinked. “I’m Mingyu, you know. I don’t eat that much at once.”
“It’s for your girlfriend, Wonwoo.” This had been only the second time you said his name this morning, yet it felt so natural escaping your lips yet again. “That’d be kind of rude of you to not show up with anything for her.”
“Ah, you’re right.” Wonwoo smiled. When he reached into his pocket, you stuck your hand out. He looked confused as his eyes met yours again.
“Don’t worry. On me.” You said.
“What? I couldn’t.”
“Too bad.” You said. “I insist. Thanks for coming to visit.”
Reluctantly Wonwoo put his wallet back in his pocket and nodded with a grateful thank you. In a few minutes, Wonwoo would be out of your café once again, this time heading to see someone else rather than to kill time before being in your arms once again.
The thought hurt, but it hurt less seeing Wonwoo smile the way he did. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Mm. You too.” Wonwoo fixed his glasses, waving his hand as he headed out of the café. You watched his back get smaller and smaller, turning as he passed by the window and down the street. Just like that, you were left alone in the café like you had been ten minutes earlier. Only now, you heart was heavier.
As the day went on, serving customers and cleaning tables, your mind weighed heavy on the topic of: what would be different now if I had been the one? Could I have done anything differently to keep Wonwoo in my grasp?
Were we always destined to grow apart this way?
As evening pulled over the city you locked up the café and stepped onto the street, bag slung over your shoulder and cap pulled over your sleepy eyes.
With the moonlight as your only companion, you made your way home, your mind finally quieting down with questions a year and a half too old to be answered. Well, one question you had today was answered.
He didn’t come back to town just to see you.
If you want to request something, post in my inbox and check my requests post!
#seventeen fic#seventeen imagine#seventeen x reader#scoups#seungcheol#jeonghan#joshua hong#hong jisoo#junhui#jun#wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo imagine#wonwoo angst#woozi#jihoon#soonyoung#hoshi#the8#minghao#myungho#mingyu#seokmin#seungkwan#vernon hansol chwe#dino#lee chan#kpop fanficion#kpop imagine
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DOING YOKI FIRST :3
(Yoki belongs to me!!! Everything else credits to Gatobob!!!)
WARNING
This post incudes very heavy topics, nsfw, 18+ stuff, and overall just not very good things. Do not read if you are sensitive to these things.
Read warnings before pressing more please!!!
(Events of BTD 1 happen with Ren and Strade but Ren was kidnapped at 19 and decided to escape at 21, still dealing with a bit of stockholm syndrome he never actually goes to police after.)
After escaping Strade and building himself back up Ren ends up paying a prostitute to fuck during his heat. And because of this it caused an accidental pregnancy she didnt want. She wanted nothing to do with the baby but she also couldn't afford to get rid of it. Instead she just waited it out and after having Yoki she tracked down Ren and gave Yoki to him. Ren took full custody of her and Yoki's mom hasnt been seen since. Ren named Yoki (full name Yokino) and raised her all by himself even thoughit was a bit of a struggle. Ren allowed Yoki to be more free and give into her animalistic instincts more which also caused her to be much more animalistic then Ren. Aka being more feral and getting triggered much easier around like blood or food (especially when hungry). As a young child she really liked meat of course, especially rabbit. Due to Ren taking her out into the woods sometimes and allowing her to hunt she enjoyed bringing back a fresh kill with her bare hands (even when being young she was still able to do it). He doesnt mind Yoki hunting on her own, actually enjoys it and is happy it makes her happy. As long as she doesn't come back home covered in blood or brings the dead animal she killed on the porch he doesnt care. Hes proud of his little girl. At a young age Yoki was introduced to Rens jobs but she didnt really care. Since she basically grew up with it even as a baby its sorta just a thing she knows about and Ren does. They are animals afterall. They have to give into their instincts at some point. Over time Ren started disposing of his 'stars' a different way by giving them to his private chef and asking them to cook it. It helped dispose of bodies easier and quicker all while having a good meal after. Because of this Yoki developed a taste for human flesh. Now she can't go a week without having her favorite meal, human heart. From rabbit hearts to human hearts. Yoki absolutely loves shopping and spending daddys money. Like once a week she gets his black card and goes shopping. Ren doesnt mind though since at this point hes pretty loaded. Plus he loves making his little girl happy. Ren and yoki have probably the most healthiest relationship out of all 3 kids. Ren has raised her well and the best way he can all while giving her a comfortable happy life.
As a young child yoki was often bullied in school for being a freak since beastkin are rare to find. It wasnt until around highschool she started to gain popularity due to her getting popular online. Shes your average tiktok and Instagram girly and being the daughter of a rich guy everyone wanted to be her friend after that. During middle school though she did make a few friends (and a few enemies) but nothing to serious. Basil was her number one friend all the way though just because of how well they bonded together (or well she bonded with basil). She saw him as a close friend and even better a brother to her. And with Hanz. Well he was the little prick. He was the main person that targeted both Yoki and Basil, picking on them and even going so far as to pull on Yoki's tail. Then one day he hust stopped and started staying to himself. Nobody knows what happened to Hanz during that and he never said what happened. Yoki alway knew Ren had scars but never knew what caused them. After learning some information from Hanz when they were older she gets help from one of Rens men to get on the web and check out of what she heard was true, and after snooping around on Strades account she finds out why Ren is that way. And due to this she gets in a small fight with Hanz but they end up settling it out. Yoki and Hanz are sorta a thing when older? But not? Its nothing serious. Mainly because Ren doesnt accept or like it at all. If he could he'd kill Hanz and Strade. He wants nothing to do with strade whatsoever even though Hanz did nothing wrong. Ren found out about Hanz and Strade during a parent teacher conference. Ren knew about Hanz before because Yoki would complain he would pick on her but after finding out it was strades kid he seemed to hate them both even more. Ren would have pulled yoki out of school if it wasnt for it being the only decent school around and plus he wanted Yoki to interact with other children. He couldnt just take that from her and hide her away. So he just protected her from afar. Ren wants nothing to do with Strade and as long as he doesn't bother him or Yoki he doesnt care. Strade likes the thought of fucking with Ren even if hes not doing anything. He could just sit back and relax as Hanz does all the work for him.
Yoki does know a bit of Japanese from Ren and Ren taught her a bit about their culture (trying to remember what his mother taught him). After getting older she could maybe only remember a few things but not everything.
IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ASK!!! :3
(Hopefully i wrote everything correctly and it makes sense X3)
#btd#boyfriend to death#btd oc#fan kids#btd fan kids#ren hana#strade#tpof#the price of flesh#kittys fan kids#yoki hana#kitty8 ocs
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could you do an Hc of Kuri,please she has Wolfgang's eyebrows ✨and she married her big brother's best friend even though she doesn't love him 🤣🤩
Kuri looked so similar to the daughter Tsuna said he’d like to have one day (his hair, Ebba’s eyes) that it made Ebba tear up a bit seeing her for the first time
She was a rather joyful baby that smiled easily
Total daddies girl from day one
She took a bit longer to talk, but once she started, she didn’t stop
Often talking to her parents about the different things she saw in town
Or pestering her grandmother about weaving lessons and horseback rides
She had no problems making friends and quickly became popular despite being a bit timid because her friends (two very popular girls) took her under their wings
Her Irish Wolfhound came from the same litter as her best friends ninken
Once she was a bit older, she took up apprenticeship with her grandmother as a ferrier
That’s about the time Asahi started hanging out with his friend Ivan
Who was as big as mountain even as a child. He laughed too loud, ate too much, and always said the strangest things
Including; she should speak with her head up, he can tell the difference in her embroidery style to her mothers, and she chews loudly
But what really made her not like him was when he said his father told him she had a face full of stars (complimentary)
She hated her freckles, so it just seemed like he was trying to make fun of her
After that she kept conversations with him SHORT, even when he stayed with them while his father was away. That is Asahi’s problem friend not hers 😤
In her teens, she full embraced her popular role and almost exclusively hung out with the Inuzuka that had also settled in this land
This kept her ninjutsu skills sharp and that gave her a sense of pride because she was praised for both her Uchiha and Inuzuka abilities
She was still a daddies girl, so he was still the first person she told all her big news to
She loved shipping with her mom and helping her embroider things. Often sneaking in an uchiha fan to make her smile
Her relationship with Asahi was rocky as he didn’t spend much time at home
She joined Frederick in playing the taikos with their mother
She was the best sibling at managing the triplets and that was done through making everything a game. She could get them to scrub the whole house if she wanted to and let them crash in her bed with her most nights
Elke was like her own little baby doll. She liked picking her clothes and styling her hair as it had a fun flip to it’s ends
Arashi was her other little doll, sort of. More like the puppy she showed off to her friends and taught funny work songs to
She loved betting on dog races with her grandmother. Ebba always made it fun as she wasn’t afraid to challenge anyone
Unfortunately for her, so did Ivan
And he was much better at choosing a winner than her
She tried to avoid him, but they always ended up in the same spots, shops, or being seated near each other at festivals
Her mother telling her to stop acting rude when Ivan never so much as said a bad word about her or mistreated her
Her friends all gushed about how big he was and giggled when he let them compare their hand sizes to his
To which she passed when he reached out his hand for her to do the same
He knew his hand was bigger than hers and wasn’t impressed like the others
He eventually stunned the heck out of her when asked her out
So much so she sort of just agreed as long as he didn’t tell Asahi or anyone else
He agreed and so they agreed to meet by the “quietest” part of the river
She didn’t know what to talk to him about. She knew her parents weren’t to happy about his father getting Asahi into bounty hunting, but that didn’t seem to extend to him
It was during that awkward silence sitting by the river that she noticed he smelled nice; earthy like rosewood but also something more alluring
He knew she liked rye bread best and pulled out the fresh loaf he packed along with some sweet wine (which she also liked sipping off of her mother’s in secret)
It made her feel happy and horrible that she didn’t bother paying attention to what he liked or anything about him other than him being her brother’s friend
after a little liquid courage, she asked about his likes and dislikes
She learned he has a bit of light perception and can determine light from dark
She also learned Asahi forbid him from asking her on a date… but here they were, which they both laughed about
He confessed he had liked her for sometime. He liked her laugh, how sweet she was with her family, and how excitedly she talks about her job
And she practically melted. Only able to tell him an shaky ‘thank you’
In the end she apologized for being so rude to him when he just was trying to start a conversation with her.
She promised to be nicer towards him and consider is confession seriously (sealed with a kiss on his cheek check)
It was from there that they started their secret trial relationship. Holding hands when no one was looking, brushing hands under the table, sneaking away to their secret spot, talking, kissing, etc..
It wasn’t that she was ashamed of being with Ivan, but she wanted to keep something to herself for once coming from such a big family and not feel like there was pressure
Each rendezvous got a little better and brought them closer
She found herself falling for him hard as his straightforwardness and genuine affection left no room for doubts in her about her own feelings about him
She loved that he was so gentle with her, loved hearing about her day, the way he lit up when she complimented him, and how his ears turned red whenever she whispered sweet nothings to him
Even his strange sense of humor made her laugh; the main one being that they sounded like some sort of fairytale couple where he kept changing their titles ‘the ferrier and the blind man’ ‘the witch and the bounty hunter’
It was perfect. Nothing could ruin her mood when she got to spend time with him
Or so she thought
Nothing like going to her grandmother’s house to pick up a few tools before heading home and being forced to take a bath + drink some funky mixture because dear grandma could smell that she had sex despite Kuri having washed up a bit afterwards
It was mortifying. Not because her grandmother was judging her (Ebba would never), but because it was her first time and she got found out not even an hour later.
She was very grateful that Ebba told her parents she was staying at her place to help for a couple of days (so she could shake off her nerves)
In reality, she was getting an Inuzuka crash course in how not to get caught by her Inuzuka father because “what she does as a woman is not his business if it’s not happening in his house” (Ebba’s words)
Kuri did learn some helpful tips and tricks,and her father was non the wiser of her activities
She knew Ivan was going to ask for her hand before he did because while he was still very affectionate, he was acting strangely
So when her father asked her what she thought of Ivan, she told him honestly that she loves him
Telling Asahi was more nerve wracking for some reason. She didn’t want him to think she was taking his only friend away from him
He took it well to her surprise, especially considering he apparently knew about them for a long while
#ask#kpz naruto founder au#Wolfgang x ringo#my art#knfau 🖼️#tw alchohol mention#tw suggestive#normal granny: do as I say and not as I do#ebba: do as I say AND as I did
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Fe Aspec Week Day 1: Coming Out
WOO It's aspec week time!! 💜💚 To no one's surprise I'm starting off with Lukas :3 I know we have the wonderful support convo when he and Python sort of come out to each other, but I was always curious about the loose ends that it brings up -- how he comes out to/is treated by his family, the woman he's left behind, his fellow nobles, etc. This drabble doesn't really answer any of those questions sadfsadf but it's coming from that thought 😂
Father,
I am writing to you now, so soon after my previous letter, as there is something I have yet to confess. It may be difficult for you to hear, but
The sentence stops abruptly, a small dab of ink at the corner of the ‘t’ where the pen had rested a moment in contemplation.
A man sits back at his at a desk. His candle illuminates the page, displaying a few brief lines at the top. He dips his pen in ink time and time again, but the page remains mostly empty.
At first, the man believes his problem to be a lack of words. No title exists for men like him. He’s well-educated and well-connected in the army; he has an extensive vocabulary for how the upper and lower class categorizes its people. Whether it’s a scholar’s dull terminology, vulgar common language insults, or the carefully chosen phrasing of a gossiper, none of the usual descriptors fit him. All he has are the distantly connected criticisms he’d heard his whole life: “heartless,” “cold,” “detached.”
When the candle burns lower, however, he realizes the real issue. He has far too many words.
Where would he even start? Should he describe his contentment with his life here? How not one of his fellows ever brought up the lack of a woman at his arm, or how dinners with the King and Queen themselves were filled with pleasantries that never touched on his romantic endeavors? Whatever his father had been preparing for, it had never come.
Or should he begin earlier, when he was first accepted by this group of people? He wasn’t sure if he could properly convey all that he experienced on that fateful night, speaking softly with the unit’s archer – a man he’d come to call one of his truest friends. The man had heard for the first time in his life that there were others like him. He heard that they were content. They were whole.
He could go back further and describe the moment that the realization first hit him. How his father had been right in a sense. Just as he said, one day when the man was grown, he would be in the arms of another, and everything about himself would suddenly make sense. There was only one difference. He’d been forced to bury that clarity, since it wasn’t the same kind that everyone else came to.
Or should he start even further back? He could recount all little hints that haunted him across his youth. His dreams for the future never quite aligned with those of his peers. Nothing ever seemed to align. His choice of stories to read, of games to play, of jokes to make. He wouldn’t ever claim he was mistreated as a child, but everyone would agree that the signs had appeared even then.
The man sighs. Where is the beginning, when one has always been this way?
The clock strikes on the hour. It is late, and he will need to be at his sharpest tomorrow for drills and meetings. He has no more time to fret over words about his past.
The man tries a new method, and wonders what his friends may write about him. He can’t resist a dry smile. He knows that he can never, under any circumstance, allow them to exchange any correspondence with his family.
But the exercise gives him an idea.
He writes out a single statement. Then he blows out the candle and heads to his bed.
there is nothing broken about me.
Cordially,
Lukas
#fe aspec week#fe echoes#fe lukas#fire emblem echoes#fire emblem lukas#i always thought cordially meant like 'respectfully' so finding out it means 'with intense feeling/in a heartfelt way' had me ;----;#i like the idea of someone whos very eloquent and educated writing the simplest and oddest letter home and just Not Elaborating#i hope the pov worked -- i wasnt sure if it was weird doing the present-tense-no-name thing but it just started flowing? so i ran with it?#LMAO i couldnt get it to work but my original idea for this prompt was art featuring lukas right after the support convo and high off the#euphoria or self-discovery#he'd be absolutely wrecking it on the battlefield -- bloody and wild and giddy staring down the viewer with the caption 'love loses' 😂#drabbles
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new set of headcanons: all of the parent-coded genshin characters and their "children" going to the house of the hearth for a barbeque night
our lineup:
the parents: jean, zhongli, cyno, tighnari, nahida, neuvillette, wriothesley, xianyun, arlecchino
the children: Collei, Wanderer, Klee, Hu Tao, Melusines, Sigewinne, Ganyu, Shenhe, House of the hearth kids
1. sigewinne goes hunting with the hearth kids and they think shes all innocent and everything and they try to hunt a boar for her, and they turn away for 2 seconds to get their bows/guns ready, and when they turn back around, the boar is on the ground with a tranquilizer dart lodged in its jugular
2. wanderer decided to try to scare the kids and pretend to be a bear and make a bunch of noise. this did not work out in his favor, as sigewinne heard him, and next thing you know, you hear this big *thump* and wanderer is on the ground with a dart in his shoulder. nahida then had to keep him on a child leash to make sure he didnt act up anymore
3. hu tao also wanted to scare the kids, but she saw what happened to wanderer, so she decided to stay up in the trees. the kids seemed pretty confused hearing her jump from branch to branch like "are there ghosts in the forest? why are they singing lady gaga songs? are the ghosts gay?"
4. klee goes through her arsenal of bombs, planning to use them to set up a hunting trap, and some of the hearth kids are sitting around her, egging her on to choose the biggest bomb because they think explosions are cool, and jean hears the commotion and tells klee not to use the biggest bomb she has, or else she'll blow up the entire orphanage
5. xianyun is off somewhere tinkering with some new invention or some gadgets and some of the hearth kids are sitting around watching her. freminet joins and at first he sits and watches, but then he starts giving her advice to make the gadgets better, and they start working together on something
6. ganyu and shenhe are in the garden eating grass and flowers and tighnari comes out to get stuff for a side salad and asks them wtf theyre doing. they then help him decide what plants would taste best in a salad
7. speaking of tighnari, he tried to go out with the hearth kids and co. to forage for plants to put in some dishes, but he got too scared of their antics and went back inside to go make his side dishes in peace
8. zhonglis just kind of floating around monologuing about history and osmanthus wine, talking to whoever will listen. nahida drags wanderer (still on his child leash) to go listen to zhongli and he starts whining like "this is boring can we go home"
9. collei, lynette, and the melusines are hanging out in one room, and the melusines braid their hair while collei tells them all about being a trainee forest ranger
10. arlecchino put out refreshments in one of the main areas and a lot of the drinks are just water from different springs (because she knew neuvillette would be there) and neuvillette is chilling out but then arlecchino tries to talk about business. wriothesley then follows her and says "dude we're not here for work, chill out"
11. wriothesley and arlecchino are the ones that grill all the food. one year, the hearth kids got arle an apron that says "kiss the cook" and it came in a package of 3. she put one of them on and wrio was jokingly like "aw wheres my apron" and then she pulls out another one and this man is shocked
12. cyno is one of the people serving the food and he tells dad jokes to all the kids in line. he wont give them the food until they laugh. some people are in line for a while
#genshin#genshin impact#my genshin headcanons#jean#zhongli#cyno#tighnari#nahida#neuvillette#wriothesley#xianyun#arlecchino#collei#wanderer#klee#hu tao#melusines#sigewinne#ganyu#shenhe#house of the hearth#freminet#lynette
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#this is a comparison of the impact and meaning the very same situations have when you're a child and when you're old#focused on what it means to grow old and become a child again#but no one else is a child and everything is different and there are so many things you don't remember#and everyone keeps looking at you all sad#basically. alzheimer's#growing old#alzheimers#memory loss#my writing#poetry#prose poetry#words#writeblr
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"I'm going to tell you a story. Maybe it will sound familiar."
Visionary x Insatiable x Status Asthmaticus x The Wolves of War
#this is really a show about coming of age in a vicious and unfamiliar world more than a show about werewolves#think about it. scott is sixteen and to him losing his first love is as incomprehensible and unfathomable as the supernatural.#and we're constantly reminded of how being sixteen and in love goes -- 'you're not in love you're sixteen and a child' etc.#these three characters make for such a good parallel to one another in how they werewolf + seeking guidance#especially + sudden change of worldview/stakes when confronted with sudden and unexpected loss and grieving#of course derek loses paige and becomes cold and jaded (see: literally becomes cold w/ blue eyes)#scott loses allison and commits harder to saving all of his friends even though one of them (or someone possessing him) killed her#liam is stopped from killing because of hayden's death#here are three werewolves who were sixteen and held their first love's dead body in their arms#and each of them took a different path. do you close yourself off? refuse to? do you change completely because of it?#and ofc it's teen wolf so everything always comes in threes#I have a lot of issues with the writing but the use of death (barring 6b) is not one of them. they really went hard on meaningful death.#also consider: lori holding brett's hand so he doesn't die alone and theo responding to tracy kissing him by killing her as she does#teen wolf writers went is anyone going to bastardize the original narrative to ponder new ideas about it and didn't wait for an answer#also women's deaths are always about love/for a man (thanks hollywood) but goddamn if they don't kill their women wisely#and the thing is they are all running. they're running from death and what does it get them? it gets them here.#derek wants to turn paige so she'll live forever. scott wants allison to live happily even with someone else. liam wants to save hayden.#none of them consider that cheating death will catch up to them until they run right into its arms#and all three die because of getting involved with the supernatural. all of them would presumably not have died otherwise.#coming of age into a world that takes and hurts and destroys and where you are now old enough for people around you to die.#this is not a show about werewolves.#teen wolf#twedit#teenwolfedit#my edit#derek hale#paige krasikeva#scott mccall#allison argent#liam dunbar
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if the "William used illusion discs to make Evan hallucinate the Nightmare animatronics" theory is to be believed, what do we think about there not being a Nightmare Spring Bonnie variant?
#''there's plushtrap''#<- yeah yeah! true!#buuuut. I would argue whether or not that is a canon illusion since 1) the plushtrap minigame is so heavily tied to#the game mechanic of being able to skip one hour of gameplay#and 2) the plushtrap thing is so wildly different and removed from everything else in terms#of both character design and actual game play#which brings me to my actual point: did William not make evan hallucinate#a nightmare spring bonnie because william refused to#acknowledge himself/his character as a monster?#william afton#evan afton#the crying child#fnaf 4#fnaf#cc afton
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i think i’m autistic… it has sent me into a major depressive episode not because I’m sad i might be, but because i’m sad that no one including myself realized… literally 100% of my being feels so validated when i realized it could be. i never even considered i could be autistic until i discovered what “masking” was. I’ve realized, everything I do is a mask, and the reason it’s difficult for me to live and coexist with my partners sometimes, even though i love them and wouldn’t want to be away from them, is because i’m masking 100% of the time trying not to seem cold or rude or unaffectionate bc i’m hyperaware of how i can come off…..
#all the sensory issues… the obsession with pink…. the obsession with routines…… the obsession with music and singing#all the little quirks i’ve been embarrassed about …#the reasons i can’t keep jobs…..#the reason why i was my happiest and most functional when i lived BY MYSELF and literally just painted or played piano for hours#like my bedrooms have always looked like sensory rooms.#i hate bright lights but i literally have like 10 different lamps in my room rn#the reason I hate going out and why i hate parties etc#the reason I can’t lie#the reason i wasn’t able to continue my education#like…. i’m understanding everything now#even the possibility of my mother also being autistic when i’ve always thought she was cold and obsessive and mentally ill#i see it in her too now#she’s put me through so much… and even if she is… the fact that she was abusive still stands… but i think finding out and getting assessed#i think it would help me forgive her… because i was such a. difficult child to raise.#i literally went missing and ran away so many times how did no one pick up on the fact that i might be austic#like these all seem like minimal reasons… but when i tell you that at my core i’ve always felt like an alien#i had a video come up on my feed a few months back about how it kind of shows up differently in women bc we have the ability to mask#and i was like hm that’s interesting but scrolled past#and the more i looked up things like ‘why do i do this’ autism would always come up somehow#and i feel like i’ve been really in denial#but because it resonated… i kept reading about it#i kept learning and researching because everything i found was pointing to the fact that it could be autism#and i am not anti self diagnosing at all. but i didn’t want to be the type of people that take something so general and broad that just#just because i related to (one) thing i was automatically autistic#so i kept learning and researching in hopes of find either something else that could be affecting my mental health#in hopes of kind of proving myself wrong and i was being paranoid#but the more i find the more it explains everything. literally everything. and i’m sad. i’m sad that i’ve hated myself so so so so much…#i think there’s a new sense of self understanding…. and a lot of self guilt being let go…#brain vomit
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Film!AU dsmp but the dsmp events actually happened, it's just that as the centuries passed, more and more fiction began to become incorporated into the history books, so Wilbur and Dream got the idea to write a film portraying the events accurately
#I like to think that it's been 127 years since dsmp#age works differently in Minecraft#everyone's living their own lives#they've healed and moved on already#it's 127 years what else are you gonna do#Dream gets a little curious one day and decides he's gonna see what the world thinks about the dsmp#picks up a history book about it#the history book is wrong about literally everything#picks up another history book and it's extra-wrong about literally everything#he gets a little upset about it#calls Wilbur up (they keep in touch every August) and asks him if he's seen any of the history books#Wilbur goes into this whole rant about how every single book he's picked up about the dsmp writes him as the middle child#HE IS THE BIG BROTHER HE'S ALWAYS THE BIG BROTHER HE WANTS TO BE THE BIG BROTHER PHILZA SAID HE WAS THE BIG BROTHER PHILZA SAID SO#they sit down and toy around with the idea of writing their own history books#but Wil doesn't want to associate himself with history book authors#because those idiots wrote him as the middle child he isn't going to give them popularity#so they decide to make a film about it instead#the old gang gets together and they have fun making the film#they all contribute a little. some people can even recall what happened word for word#other times they have to improvise a little#fun stuff
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