#i listened to all the self help books i read this month and called my friend and he was like you can borrow my drill before i even asked | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mypoisonedvine · 10 months

Note

now here’s a thought: jonathan crane being seduced by one of his patients

I WAS SERIOUSLY THINKING ABOUT THIS LIKE A JOKER/HARLEY QUINN MOMENT!! aaaand that's how it turned into basically a whole ass oneshot, oops

hook, line, and sinker - 1.6k words

warnings: manipulation, sexual themes/groping (18+ only please), fluff but with a dark-ish twist

"Sometimes I think you're the only one who understands me," you admitted shyly, biting your lip and looking down at the tile floor beneath you.

He leaned in a little closer, resting his arms on the table between you. "You know," he replied, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it though not quite a whisper yet, "sometimes I feel the same way."

You smiled as you looked up at him again, finding a new brightness in his eyes. "Really?" you beamed.

"Yeah," he agreed, laughing, "I really enjoy our little talks. I mean, sometimes I can't believe I'm getting paid to see you."

Giggling a little, you remembered the first time he let his guard down with you, just a bit; for weeks he'd easily dodged any personal questions, clearly knowing it was a slippery slope to countertransference and an inappropriate relationship. Unfortunately for him and everyone who had insisted that Arkham was the only facility you'd never be able to escape from, you knew from the beginning that you could use him.

You could smell it on him: that deep, overwhelming loneliness. You were far too familiar with it yourself to miss it in someone else. Sure, he kept it hidden under layer after layer of intelligence, professionalism, faked normalcy-- but it was there, and it was calling out for someone else to truly see him. You saw him from the second he walked in that armored door, back when they still kept you in the jacket; now, months later, you'd convinced him you weren't a threat and that he was the one in control of these sessions.

The other facilities, with their inspiration murals and their bean bag chairs, they were a breeze to break out of. You knew that Arkham Supermax was going to be an entirely new challenge, but you'd been preparing since the beginning. Each week with Dr. Crane, you got him to be a little naughtier for you-- first it was as simple as convincing him to let your sessions go long, leaving everyone else waiting as you poured your soul out for an extra half hour. Convincing him that you needed him, that only he could help you. Then it was the praise-- you're changing my life, I've had so many shrinks and you're the first that really listened, you're so incredible-- all that shit he'd probably been craving since his daddy didn't hug him enough or something.

Once you'd given him some compliments, he returned one to you: you made up some sob story about your low self-esteem just to get him to admit that you were attractive, and you took the compliment with a coy little thank you, Dr. Crane... that's high praise coming from you.

Then it was contraband, just little stuff. He snagged you an extra serving of dessert on your birthday; he brought you a copy of your favorite book, as a reward for increasingly good behavior. Sometimes you thought about just asking him straight-up for a metal file or few paperclips, but that would be risky-- you could throw away all your work if you jumped the gun too soon.

Then there was the journal... you knew, no matter how much he swore he wouldn't, that he was going to read that fucking journal. You couldn't be sure if that was always the plan, or if it was just a temptation he would eventually surrender to, but you wrote all these fucked up little fantasies in that journal and imagined how he'd have to loosen his tie when he read them.

Back in January: Dr. Crane keeps asking about my nightmares, I couldn't possibly admit that I've started having sexual dreams about him...

And then there was the entry from March: I didn't mean to upset him yesterday but he snapped at me when I was talking about my anger-- he said I wasn't taking accountability-- and when he got stern with me I felt myself getting wet, is that bad?

And the best one yet, just a few days ago: Dear diary, I swore I wouldn't tell anyone what he told me, so I won't even tell you-- but I'll just say that when Jonathan showed me his mask, I fell totally in love with him. People are always hiding who they really are, but he knows me, and now I know him, too. I know I should feel guilty, but I don't. I know we're meant for each other.

Your heart was racing as you realized it might all pay off tonight. Listening to his rambling rants about fear and society and humanity, journaling about your 'crush' like a schoolgirl, making doe-eyes at him during sessions-- it was all about to happen, you had him in your pocket.

"Sometimes, I..." he began again, looking down at your hands shackled to the table, "I think about seeing you more. When I'm not even here, I mean..."

You pretended to be surprised by that. "Really? I mean... do you think about just talking to me, or...?"

He smiled a little, his face turning a bit pinker. "Do you think about us doing more than just talking?" he turned the question on you instead.

"Doctor, I--"

"Jonathan."

You had to fight off a smirk; you reached forward across the table, jingling the chains that held you down, but they were just long enough to reach to his hands. You gently brushed your fingers over his, hearing him sigh as he opened his hand for you to place your hand in. You ran your middle finger delicately in a line along his palm, and he shuddered a bit. Hook, line, and sinker. "Jonathan," you started again in a low purr, "I think about so much more than talking."

"Do you ever think about... about if we could be together...?" he pressed, closing his grip to hold your hand. After this long of a seduction, you couldn't deny that touching him in such an innocuous way was getting you a little hot. Just because you were manipulating him didn't mean you were completely faking an attraction, he was sexy-- and gullible. You liked that in a man.

Trying to look conflicted, you glanced away. "I try not to imagine that," you explained, "it's... it's not possible, with me in here. I'm fine with this, if this is all I can get-- seeing you three times a week for our sessions, telling you things I never thought I'd tell anyone. I can be okay with that. Just knowing you feel even a fraction of what I do is like-- it's like-- I don't even know how to describe it. It's amazing."

Leaning in even more, he reached up and held your face-- tenderly, reverently-- and you shut your eyes as you leaned into his touch. "I wish I was as unselfish as you," he replied, "but I need more-- I need to really be with you."

You brought your hand up to hold his, jerking the chain a bit. "I need-- I need you, too," you mumbled. "Please, Jonathan," you begged in a whisper as you opened your eyes to meet his wanting gaze, "I wanna be yours."

He sat up and leaned over the table in a split second, kissing you hard; you had to tilt your head back to accommodate the height difference as you were still sitting, and it made it even easier for him to hold your head like they used to in those old Hollywood movies-- the ones they showed here on Thursday nights, but you weren't allowed to go because you 'didn't integrate well with the general population' or whatever.

As he kissed you, hungry but relatively reserved, it was you that took it further: carefully running your tongue over his lips, opening your mouth for him to claim, having to hold back a grin when he moaned softly against you. "Touch me," you begged him in a rare moment of reprieve from the kiss, "please-- I've wanted you to for so long--"

He groaned a little as his hand slid down to your chest, opening one button of your uniform jumpsuit; he kissed your neck as he dipped his hand inside, groping your chest underneath the fabric. Your hips naturally rocked forward in the metal chair, your deprived body desperate to be filled after almost a year of forced celibacy in this prison. "Fuck," he mumbled against your skin, tweaking a nipple between his fingers, "you know we can't-- not here--"

"I know," you purred, only barely able to reach his shoulder with your hands chained-- otherwise you'd be running your fingers through his hair, holding on to his neck, pulling him closer. "But I need you-- I don't think I've ever needed anything this much..."

He shook his head; "Me either," he admitted.

"I need to feel you inside me."

He growled, grip tightening on your breast, and you smiled proudly. "I can't just leave you here," he realized, like it was his idea. "We need to be together-- outside of this place."

"I'll go anywhere with you," you promised him.

Pulling back and looking into your eyes, he brought both his hands to your face, brushing your hair aside quickly. "If I do this for you... you have to promise me. You have to be mine."

"Can you really do that?" you wondered. "Get me out?"

"I'll find a way," he assured, "I'll do anything."

You smiled up at his determined expression, flashing your best big-wet-needy eyes at him. "Jonathan," you cooed, "I'm already yours."

#jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

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temis-de-leon · 2 months

Text

MC with a selfish best friend

MC mourning the loss of a long toxic friendship with the help of the brothers.

Characters: demon brothers and fem!MC (written as platonic, but could be read as romantic)

Masterlist , Part 2 (kind of)

CW: continued discussion about weight gain and weight loss, eating as a coping mechanism, obssesive and manipulative behaviour, emotional blackmail, a glimpse of animal neglect, a tiny nod at suicide, MC trying to hide her feelings, anxiety, TLC from the brothers

A/N: kind of self insert because I'm writing my own experience, so this isn't the most relatable MC. Still, I hope you enjoy it! Remember I'm not a native english speaker, so there might be some grammar mistakes.

Back then, not that long ago, MC was completely sure she wouldn’t go any further in life. She was stuck in college, in her family and her friend group. There was a dynamic she could work through and, although it could be better, she wasn’t one to complain.

It was a flooded basement with filthy water, but at least it lacked rats.

She just needed some time to start working on herself. Go to therapy, lose some weight maybe? Start cooking again and stop wasting money on fast food. She did use to enjoy spending time in the kitchen and experimenting, after all, but the only things she cooked during her last months in the human realm were mugcakes and pasta. Not necessarily nutritious, but easy to make.

Thank god she had her best friend.

Her companion in the basement, the one with the flashlight.

MC wished she let her hold her hand too.

“She’s overthinking again. Not good”

“Look who’s talking”

“Hey! It was just a joke!”

“Should we talk to her?”

“Maybe when she comes back, else we’ll give her a heart attack”

“Yeah, Lucifer would kill us”

“Oh, so now we’re doing this for Lucifer?”

“Don’t be selfish, Mammon”

“Who ya calling selfish?”

“Ugh”

MC listened carefully, softly smiling at Beel and Levi’s voices drowning Mammon’s in an almost silent screaming match.

She couldn’t see them from her position, her upper body completely sprawled over the armrest and her line of sight lost in the ashes of the chimney. The fire cracked, threatening to die in front of her, but it was difficult to get up when her body weighted so much. She was tired and hungry and nauseous and even the idea of sitting straight sent bile to her mouth.

Then someone walked into the common room, shushing harshly and getting the other brothers to cease their fighting. Whoever it was, probably Lucifer or Satan, must have thought she was asleep.

So MC closed her eyes, hiding her face in the crook of her arm and basking in the comfortable silence. She could hear them still; the shuffle of cards, a plastic wrapper, buttons and joysticks.

The newcomer got close to her, covering her body with a blanket and sitting at her feet before opening a book. There was enough space in the couch for at least two more people, but MC still curled up, trying to make more room for him. She stopped in her tracks when he grabbed her ankle in a gentle grip, a gesture that brought some warmth where her pants didn’t reach.

Would someone add another log for the fire? Everyone seemed too comfortable to move.

At least the blanket was thick. Pure hellish wool or something, because every animal in the Devildom was just a bigger scarier version of those in the human realm. It was also, however, softer than any type of textile she could’ve ever find back home, so the creature could spit fire for all she cared.

Suddenly, the brother caressing her ankle tightened his grip for a short moment, demanding her attention. When MC opened her eyes, she found Satan smiling at her with no one else in the room. She must’ve fallen asleep after all.

“Dinner is ready”

He let her stretch, unconsciously comparing her to a cat when she arched her back and cracked every possible bone in her body. Satan wondered if that ever hurt, but MC seemed to enjoy it very much whenever she had the occasion to do so, like when they came home from classes after a long day or when they bought groceries for the whole week and Beel.

“Did you not sleep well last night?”

“Not for a while, no”

“Is that so? Something troubling you, MC? Anything I can help with?”

“I don’t know”

She sounded sincere, but Satan didn’t buy it. Only a month had passed since MC came back to the Devildom, looking a bit more tired than when she left at the end of the first year of the program, and she’d acted ecstatic when she learnt she would be living with them again.

He was sure the problem relied in her human phone, something she didn’t have last year and Diavolo had kindly allowed her to keep.

All of his brothers, even the eldest, were greatly impressed when MC showed them how she unlocked the device with her fingerprints, as well as the human versions of Devilgram, Deviltube and Akuzon. That was a fun day, but time passed and soon the phone became an inconvenience. Someone at the other side of the line was taking their beloved human’s time, leaving her exhausted in the aftermath of their conversations and, if Satan vision’s was correct, teary eyed.

That would not continue. Not on his watch.

“We’ll look into it in another moment. Right now, let’s go with the others. Aren’t you hungry?”

“God, yes!”

They both chuckled and he forced his thoughts away. They could wait for the time being.

Beel didn’t judge her, but she didn’t feel as happy as she thought she would whenever they sneaked in the kitchen at the late hours of the night.

Opening the fridge door with slow movements, trying not to make noise while taking plates or bowls and eating in silence between giggles and short whispers brought a sort of familiarity. And Beel never judged MC. Why would he? He ate even more than her. He’d keep going long after she was finished, full enough to want to puke everything, and MC would feel a wicked satisfaction knowing that no matter how much she ate, there was someone that would eat much more.

Those nights she’d go to bed feeling sick and greasy, too regretful and high on sugar to be tired. Then, by morning, she’d force herself to eat breakfast and go on with her day just to get whatever sense of normality she could reach.

Although, lately, things had been slightly different.

They still got together at night and filled their mouths to the brim, but Beel was adamant about MC going to the gym with him when the morning came, before everyone was out of bed. Of course she’d said no since the beginning, but he kept insisting, saying she didn’t have to exercise if she didn’t want to.

MC still said no.

Then Asmodeus put his input.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, hon’, but you aren’t getting your 8 hours of sleep and you’re adding calories during the night. That’s horrible for your skin!”

And had it been her mother saying that, MC would’ve lashed out, rejecting opinions she’d been hearing for years over and over and over again, but this was Asmo. The Avatar of Lust. The most beautiful demon in the entire Devildom. MC guessed she wasn’t being fair to her mother, who also loved her and hated seeing her so sick and tired all the time, when it was Asmo she couldn’t ignore.

“I get anxious when I go to bed” she finally confessed.

MC could feel Satan’s eyes on her, but he stayed silent.

“Spend the night with me” intervened Belphie with an honest smile, a muted worry in his eyes “I could make you so tired you wouldn’t want to get out of bed”

“No way!”

Everyone looked at Mammon and several sighs filled the room. The demon, although deeply blushing, kept talking with an overbearing smugness.

“If someone’s gonna sleep with her, it’s gonna be me! Don’t worry MC, the Great Mammon will chase the nightmares away!”

“I think sleeping with you would give her nightmares, actually”

Mammon turned to Levi, ready to swing at his brother, but MC talked before the fight started.

“It’s not nightmares, Mams, I just feel anxious. You know, like, I can’t stop thinking”

“About what?”

She looked at Satan, who was staring at her with a calculating glance, surely remembering what she told him days before when she fell asleep on the couch.

“I don’t know… Everything, I guess”

All of them stayed silent, ignoring what they were previously doing. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, but MC wished someone said anything.

Of course, Mammon spoke first.

“Well, that’s a lot”

“No shit, you moron”

Levi finally got smacked and the rest of them went back to do their own thing, letting MC’s lack of sleep behind. A part of her wanted to keep the conversation going, but she felt too embarrassed when she tried to open her mouth again, especially having Satan looking at her like a hawk.

You don't want me to stare at you? I want to. What's the problem?

She achieved to ignore him in the end.

That night she stayed in her room, pacing, chewing her sweatshirt’s aglet while humming that Phineas and Ferb’s song and turning her headphone’s volume to the maximum with a different music threatening to deteriorate her hearing.

Anything to distract herself and not go to the kitchen.

Finally, hours after bidding the brothers goodnight, MC threw herself on the bed. Her feet were aching, its footprints surely engraved in the carpet, and she forgot to take her headphones off, making the position uncomfortable, but the important thing was that she didn’t have the need to eat anymore.

However, Beel still knocked her door at dawn.

MC stared at him when she opened, bleary-eyed and mouth as dry as cotton, the hem of her pyjama pants so high they looked like pantaloons. He, on the other hand, was completely awake and seemed ready to conquer the day.

“Before you say anything, I’m not going to the gym today”

There was a heavy silence for a couple of seconds.

“Then why did you wake me up? We have classes tomorrow”

Beel stared at her with a worried expression.

“We don’t. It’s Saturday”

“Ah”

She could’ve sleep longer? MC wished she was mad at him, but his puppy stare was hypnotizing.

“I want to go for a walk today. And I want you to come with me”

He lowered his gaze for a moment, biting his cheek while waiting for an answer. MC turned around and looked at the window, still unable to decipher what time it was by looking at the sky.

There were a few things MC missed from the human realm. The sun was one of them.

“We could go to the park, feed some birds and then have breakfast somewhere else. I swear I won’t eat the seeds this time"

She chuckled, rolling her eyes when he smiled back. Then she looked down at the rolled pants and her bare legs.

“Is it cold?”

“I don’t think so, but you can borrow my jacket”

MC sighed and rubbed her eyes, waiting until the white spots disappeared before walking towards her closet. She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, she knew that.

“Let me change and then we’re going. But you owe me one, Beel!”

His smile was too wide for him to answer.

Breakfast with Beel ended up lasting three whole hours, which was understandable, and they spent the whole time talking about nothing and almost everything, both of them clearly avoiding the subject of her sleeping habits.

MC really did want to talk about it, but then again, what did she want to talk about exactly? She had trouble falling asleep, yes, and she’d gone back to eating her feelings, but she couldn’t point out the reason. Her nights were filled with paranoia, making her revaluate every piece of interaction she’d had since she got back home from the Devildom months ago. Did she spoke correctly? Did people understand that she was just studying abroad and not begging for attention?

She hoped her best friend dropped those accusations. MC would never stoop so low. Just thinking about it brought tears to her eyes.

“Don’t you want anything else?”

MC looked at Beel and the stack of plates surrounding him at the table, mugs and cardboard boxes stained with chocolate, whipped cream and frosting. Her side of the booth was much cleaner, but when she lowered her gaze the only thing she could think of were mugcakes and pasta and the taste of bile in her mouth at the sight of her bloated stomach.

“No, I’m fine”

She knew he loved her. She knew she could talk to him and he would listen and maybe even hold her hand, but the small restaurant was already filled with demons and witches and whatnot and MC knew she’d only be able to sob the moment she’d open her mouth, so she stayed quiet.

Beel nodded, going back to his food with a strange calmness. Maybe he was close to being full?

But no, it wasn’t that.

MC gasped when she felt his foot weakly tapping hers before going under it to support its weight. A small comfort, like the prelude of a long awaited hug.

He didn’t know how much she appreciated it.

Winter had already reached the Devildom the day MC opened her closet and stared at her clothes. No matter what she chose, everything was at least a size bigger.

She guessed finally going to the gym with Beel did have some payoff.

“Is something wrong, MC?”

Asmo turned the lights of her bathroom off, walking where she was silently standing while staring at the discarded clothes around her.

“You don’t feel like dressing up today? We can stay home and do some self-care if you want”

MC turned around to look at him with gratitude. She knew how much he wanted to go shopping, especially with her. Finals ended just the day before and everyone had been so occupied they’d barely seen each other outside classes and meal times.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that. It’s just that… everything feels wrong. I think I lost weight”

He chuckled at her revelation, hugging her waist and kissing her cheek between giggles.

“You’re taking care of yourself, silly! Whatever are you doing with Beel in the gym, I wonder…?”

She laughed and lightly hit his arm, showing no ill intent, and Asmo smiled in response, not bothering to hide his lewd expression.

“Don’t be nasty!”

“Oh, I’m just joking! But you know what this means, right? We get to renew your whole closet!”

MC turned around again, perfectly knowing that she could either spent her monthly allowance on clothes or start thinking on how she could rock the oversize streetwear style.

She sighed, trying to hide her smile with no success before speaking again. Asmo’s eyes were stuck on her.

“Very well, then” she wasn’t finish talking yet when the demon clapped his hands and jumped in excitement “I’ll trust your criteria”

He gasped and hit her arm in return.

“As you should!”

“So… how do I look?”

Mammon whistled, clapping and signalling her to turn around in response. Once she did a little twirl, he clapped even harder, not stopping even when she blushed in embarrassment and ran towards him to stop his overly excited appreciation.

“You look mighty fine, MC!”

“Stop!”

“Has anyone ever told you how hot you look?”

“Stop!!”

They were both laughing, her chasing him all around his room with burning cheeks and a gigantic smile.

The shopping bags waited patiently at the door, half of them already empty with a pile of clothes folded on the couch. Mammon had insisted on a private catwalk the moment he learnt she’d gone shopping with Asmo, his offense completely gone barely half an hour after starting the show in his room.

Every time she changed in his opened closet he’d cover his eyes with his hands and every time she came out with a new outfit he’d scream praises like a madman.

MC wasn’t used to this level of compliments and he sure was making it hard to stay calm.

“C’mon, go change again!”

“You’re acting insane right now, Mams”

She was smiling like crazy and her cheeks were hurting, but she didn’t want it to stop. When was the last time someone had been this hyped over her looking pretty? She couldn’t remember.

Then her phone rang.

MC stopped smiling when she saw the name on the screen.

She thought about answering and spoiling a nice evening because of a sour one-sided conversation. Was it worth it? Sure her friend could wait a couple more hours, right? She’d survived without MC the whole year she spent at the Devildom uncommunicated, after all.

“Is it The Unnameable?”

MC stared at her phone for one more second before turning around to look at Mammon, who was kneeling on the couch with his arms crossed over the backrest, eyes peeking with curiosity and another feeling she couldn’t identify.

“The Unname… Robdemor??”

He nodded, blushing and looking away.

“Yeah. You know, like, her name brings bad luck or some shit”

“She doesn’t bring bad luck”

MC didn’t sound as convincing as she wanted to and Mammon’s incredulity proved her point.

“Don’t be stupid, MC”

The pot calling the kettle back, she wanted to say, but no words came to her mouth. She was being stupid, wasn’t she? Everyone at the house already knew what to expect whenever her phone ringed or vibrated and they always did their best to distract her so she could leave the damn thing behind. She suspected Belphie even turned it off at one point.

Staring at her feet, trying to voice her feelings, MC talked again.

“She just… needs me sometimes”

“Sometimes??”

Mammon got up, going around the couch to reach her. He looked flabbergasted, eyes opened wide and a myriad of words stuck in his throat.

The phone stopped ringing, but soon a flood of messages interrupted the silence to call for her attention instead. When she looked back at Mammon, he had frustration in his eyes.

She decided then she couldn’t bear to see him like this, so serious and reasonable. Was it too late to go back to chasing each other, laughing while trying new clothes? She’d been capable of keeping her feelings to herself since she could remember, but Mammon wouldn’t let her do that and she feared the moment the rest of the brothers decided enough was enough too.

God, she needed to talk, but not right now. Talking would make it real and she still wasn’t strong enough for the whole situation to be real.

In a matter of seconds her eyes were watering and she felt as if her throat had thorns stuck in her flesh, but before she could do anything about it there were arms wrapping around her. MC wasted no time hugging Mammon back, trying her hardest not to spoil any tears. The tags in the back of her new shirt poked her skin, making her squirm and get even closer to Mammon’s body.

He was rocking her side to side while petting her hair and there was no doubt he’d deny the whole ordeal happening afterwards, but she let herself enjoy the feeling anyways. It was nice being taken care of.

It was the first time MC had gone to bed so early since before college. Her eyelids felt heavy and the bed was soft and comfortable, at least three blankets shielding her from the cold outside that froze her window and sunk her room in darkness.

But she couldn’t stop staring at her phone.

She’d turned the vibration off days ago, but that didn’t stop the notifications from showing up on the lock screen and, although she could also take care of that, MC still wanted to be able to read the messages without needing to open the app.

Her best friend talked about everything, good or bad. Mostly bad. How she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her, even when she was the one cheating on him, how much she was eating because there was no one to stop her, how tired she was to even clean her cat’s litter box. She’d say if MC were there everything would be so much better, she wouldn’t feel so lonely.

She didn’t ask about MC once.

“You’re thinking so hard it’s giving me a headache”

MC’s body violently jerked at Belphie’s voice.

He’d entered the room in silence, closing the door and approaching her bed without making any noise. Seeing her freaking out made him snicker, but he was too tired to fully laugh and simply laid down next to her.

“Jesus, Belphie”

“No, just me”

“Ha ha ha”

Her sarcasm didn’t affect him in the slightest. MC watched as he closed his eyes and offered his hand to held hers in a firm grasp, probably not wanting to let her go during the night.

“Turn that damn thing off” he growled against the pillow when a new message showed up.

“I’ve seen you sleep on the ground before; you can’t complain about some light”

“Watch me”

She thought he was just joking, challenging her like a small child would, but Belphie managed to surprise her when he rolled over her body, grabbed the phone and threw it to the other side of the room.

“Belphie!”

He shushed, sealing her lips under his hand before hugging her body with all four limbs, trapping her under the covers.

MC could’ve complained and hit him until he let her go to retrieve the phone, but that would’ve meant pissing him off and staring at the screen for another hour or until her friend decided it was time to show some interest in MC’s life.

…

Whoa.

…

So that’s what it was.

That simple, uh?

MC waited for something to happen at her epiphany. Nausea, panic, heavy breathing. Instead, she felt an overpowering sense of relief. Her heartbeat evened and the frown she didn’t know she had in her forehead disappeared.

No headache, no memories. For once, no nothing.

“You’re not dying, aren’t you?”

Belphie’s head rose, looking at her with suspicion, but her eyes were stuck in the ceiling.

“Why? Would you feel guilty?

He stood over her then, pouting and frowning, and MC had to stop herself from laughing.

“Okay, you know what? I already said I was sorry. You can’t hold that against me for the rest of your life”

“I will as long as I can get something out of it”

“You’re evil”

“Said the demon”

His head fell face first on the pillow with a thud and if she didn’t know him any better, she’d be worried about him suffocating to death during the night.

“Why did you ask that, tho?” MC finally talked.

“Your heart stopped for a second” he shrugged and mumbled, his hold on her hand stronger than before.

“Oh… Well… Don’t worry. I’m okay”

“Are you sure?”

No, not really, but she didn’t want to talk about it in that moment. Maybe another time, when her speech wasn’t slurred due to sleep and she could organize her thoughts with a clear mind.

She hummed as an answer before speaking one last time.

“Goodnight, Belphie”

“Sweet dreams, MC”

He’d make sure of that.

MC had been quiet for a while. Not out of sadness nor ire, but something much more private. Something that left her pensive and still, staring into nothing with a serious expression. She laughed and talked with the brothers and, from what he heard, she enjoyed going to the gym with Beel, but Lucifer knew there was another factor escaping his reach.

Whatever it was, it changed MC for the better, so he was happy.

Even when the strangest ideas crossed her mind.

“I think I’m going to cut my hair”

He looked at her, clicking his tongue in disapproval when he saw her sitting sideways in one of the chairs with her feet resting in the other. She had a book resting in her lap. How long had she been looking at him and not reading?

“May I ask why?”

“I need a change”

Lucifer stared, taking his glasses off before crossing his arms over the document he was previously reading. MC got up and walked, zigzagging her way towards his desk as if she was drunk, but she looked as hopeful as ever.

“Did something happen?”

She nodded, ignoring his question right after.

“One of these days I’m just gonna… grab a glass of wine, go to the bathroom and bam! Haircut”

He raised an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile at her words. He hadn’t seen her so playful in months and the sudden change felt like a breath of fresh air.

“Do you even like wine, MC?”

“That’s not the point”

“And you shouldn’t use scissors while drunk, especially near your head” he ignored her “If it’s money you’re worried about, I can pay for a good hairdresser”

She laughed and shook her head, partially sitting on the desk. They stayed silent for a few seconds and Lucifer let himself observe her, how she bit her bottom lip deep in thought and how her fingers intertwined with a certain force. She was probably hurting herself at that point.

“I just really need a change”

He could tell there was more she wanted to say, but that seemed to be enough for the moment. The silence afterwards felt full with comfort.

“That’s fine”

MC nodded and sent him a small smile before going back to the chair, this time sitting with her knees stuck to her chest, but before he could put his glasses on to continue his work, she spoke again.

“Here’s what we’re going to do: I cut my hair in the bathroom and then you take me to the hairdresser to style it. Sounds good?”

“Are you going to drink while using the scissors?”

“I’m not a child, Lucifer”

“Might as well”

“Hey!”

“Just joking” he laughed, but MC could tell there was some seriousness behind his smile.

“I drink wine, I cut my hair and you check I don’t stab myself on accident, how about that?”

Lucifer pondered about it, envisioning himself behind her and watching over her reflection in the mirror, a bottle of wine in the countertop and another of Demonus waiting for them in the music room. She’d be the one to clean the aftermath, that bit was obvious, but something told him she wouldn’t really care about that.

The more he thought about it, the less strength he had to fight it. She could’ve asked Asmodeus or Mammon, but she asked him. MC wanted him to be with her during her progress, as stupid as the method was.

“Sounds like a plan to me, MC”

Her smile at his words was worth millions.

It wasn’t until several hours had passed that MC wondered if Levi invited her to his room with a hidden motive in mind.

The anime came out less than a day ago and she’d never even seen an ad about it, but he’d thoroughly claimed it was made for her.

And she could see why he would say that, honestly.

Sure, no ancient dying star granted her any mystical powers that allowed her to soar the skies or wear an alarmingly short sparkly dress; and she didn’t have an animal sidekick or a romantic interest that only appeared at night for some reason. She didn’t have an arch nemesis either, but she did have the closest thing.

MC was the selfish one, apparently, because how could she? How could MC have the audacity to ignore her best friend’s messages in her desperate times of need? Her boyfriend broke up with her because he discovered the cheating and no one was there to remind her of feeding the cat, neither to monitor her diet nor to fix the consequences of her bad decisions. She was in the lowest point of her life and MC dared to lose weight and spend time with her new friends? Outrageous!

MC unlocked her phone and stared in silence at the new text and voice messages, as well as some missed calls.

You disappoint me, MC.

After all I did for you?

I’ll die and it’ll be your fault.

I’ll die and I’ll make sure you’re the one to discover my body.

You’ll never be able to forget about me then.

You’re disgusting.

MC stared at the screen, not knowing if she should laugh or cry about it. In the end she chuckled and forced down the sting in her throat.

The TV in front of her suddenly turned into a kaleidoscope and she squinted as the heroine jumped from platform to platform, blasting her wand and singing spells. If she understood correctly, the cheery character was fighting her way through the first big boss of the season, her friends close behind her.

She could feel Levi’s eyes on her, no doubt studying her reactions to see if she liked the anime as much as he did.

“Hey, Henry!”

MC turned to look at him and smiled brightly at his rosy cheeks. She expected him to explain some hidden lore or the meaning behind the soundtrack, but he surprised her with his next words.

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t told you yet, but your hair looks so cool!”

“Oh!” she widely opened her eyes in appreciation, showing her teeth in a beaming smile right after “Thanks, Levi!”

“You look… eh… upgraded. Well, no, not upgraded. Erm…” he avoided her gaze for the next few seconds before pausing the anime, letting the room go back to silence. MC kept quiet, trying not to laugh at his awkwardness so he wouldn’t misunderstand the situation.

“You look really pretty, MC. Even better than her”

Levi nodded at the TV and MC stared at the heroine, the pause conveniently showing her winning pose. Big sparkly eyes winking at her and a knowing smile occupying half of her face, as if she was approving Levi’s affirmation.

MC felt the need to cry right then and there, but she held it in.

Her phone lighted up one last time before she grabbed it and turned it off in anger. She had a couple of seconds before the screen permanently went back to black, letting her read the last message.

Who do you think you are? How could you do this to me?

MC seethed. She knew who she was, even if she was still learning. Her hands itched and she forced herself not to throw the phone on the ground with all her strength. She still needed it to talk to other friends and relatives, after all.

After an entire minute filled with tense silence, MC spoke, suddenly meek and shy.

“Hey Lev…”

“MC?”

He was staring her with caring eyes, unsure of what to do or what to say.

Fortunately, for the first time in a long while, MC knew what she needed to do. For herself and no one else.

“Would you help me change my phone number?”

She could write down the numbers of those she cared about the most and send a message asking them not to share hers without her permission.

Take care of her arch nemesis without destroying the entire world. Accept the help of people who showed joy at her improvement. Buy new clothes, change her style, cut her hair.

God, walking without that heavy weight on her shoulders would be difficult and painful, but she’d rather die before letting her ex best friend destroy her will and power one last time.

She laughed with a choke and Levi gasped her name.

She was crying.

@ourfinalisation

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sorreysorren · 11 days

Text

what it is to be hollow

soccer was a testament to kaiser's existence.

a file was given to you, withholding information about kaiser that probably only 5 people in the world knew.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you argued to the man at your door, one last time, that forcing someone won't prove effective. neither would sessions for just about a month. it was a desperate measure on dark’s behalf.

your words were disregarded.

and kaiser couldn't play until he went to therapy for the entirety of a month.

–––

kaiser didn't like you.

he didn't understand how talking to a stranger was going to solve all of his “problems”– as the people around him liked to call it.

of course, he wasn't going to voice his dislike for you. he knows how to act in front in front of people– he knows how to keep an image.

acting must've run in the bloodline.

he just had to pretend he was well.

you would only see what he wanted you to see– he thought he had you wrapped around his finger.

this way, he still had some form of control.

but you only smiled.

you smiled like you knew exactly what was going through his head. like you knew what was going to happen. like you knew everything about him.

– – –

it was cold in your office.

your shelves were filled with books, board games, and art supplies.

there was a mirror beside your desk, and right next to it hung a painting: a fish about to be eaten by a shark.

you asked him about himself, basic things; things you already knew. you wanted him to speak though. but he stayed silent. right now, his goal was just to make it through the hour. to just wait it out. even if it wasn’t his choice to be here.

“i can’t help you if you don’t talk”

he didn’t have to choose to open up to you because his demeanor did so involuntarily.

the little glances; when his eyes would widen for a split second; when his knuckles would tighten from how tightly he held them in a fist– you saw it all.

this was very different from the kaiser you’d seen on tv. the one who carried himself like he ruled everything around him.

and yet, in front of your eyes was hollow-like shell of a man.

right now, maybe, kaiser wasn’t a "real" person. there was no sense of self within him. he was a mess of thoughts, memories, and sensations. whatever bit of “self” that existed within him was molded by everything he went through.

maybe in different circumstances, he would’ve resorted to his cocky attitude you’d see on tv and interviews.

knowing his background, you knew he wouldn’t be opening up soon. but if you both had to be here, some use must be made out of the time, right? that was your thought process, at least. you understood not everyone wanted help, even if it was evident that they needed it.

right now, what he has is an open wound. right now, all he’s been doing is pressing a bandaid over it– a piece of cloth, even and continuing a reckless path. he’s stepped over the steps he should be taking; disinfecting, stitching, and healing.

the unfelt emotions in him eat away at his wounds.

– – –

the hour passed by, mostly in silence. the sound of your keyboard interrupted the silence every now and then. through the corner of your eye, you kept an eye on him, watching for anything.

he left as soon as the clock read 5:00 pm.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the following week, he was late by 20 minutes.

“you’re late.” you didn’t really care if he was late or not, but you wanted to get something out of it. “do these sessions get in the way of something?”

he glanced at you, “you know they don’t.”

and he’s right.

to him, this is a punishment– not being allowed to play until he’s done with this. he has nothing else to do, if not play.

i’ll make it work, he tells himself.

“i’m not here to change you, michael. there’s a difference between change and adaptation. i’m not here to judge you either. i can help you alleviate whatever you’re feeling. i can listen to you. i can give advice. but i also don’t make any decisions in your life. whether you like it or not, we are here for you.”

“my…” he trailed off, not finishing his sentence.

there was an indistinguishable expression on his face and you could almost see the way the gears twisted and turned inside his head.

he didn’t say anything about you going on a first-name basis, but he didn’t speak again, only staring at the floor, waiting for the hour to be over.

you looked at his file again.

he had a history with violence, which had you brainstorming techniques that could help with that. when agitated, there are two pathways you think he would choose.

the first is immediate violence.

the second is pushing the thoughts away. doing so aggressively will only cause them to slip through the cracks, and then resurge ten times worse.

“have you heard about compartmentalizing?” you were certain he hadn’t, but this is how you chose to proceed

you explained that when in a calmer state, he should attempt to visualize putting the thoughts in little boxes inside his head.

sure, the method wasn't perfect, and it couldn't be used forever, but it was a step forward

he thought it was stupid.

he thought it was as stupid as the fish painting on your wall, but then again maybe that wasn’t the best comparison since it did catch his eye after all.

another method: EFT

before he left, you handed him a brochure that highlighted how it works.

during EFT, individuals tap certain points on their body – similar to the points used during acupuncture, to send signals to the part of the brain that controls stress.

on the margins, you recommended the side of the palm and the collarbone– this was closest to his neck and his tattoo (roughly 2 inches below it).

when he skimmed over it on his way out, he assumed it was some sort of placebo bullshit.

he didn’t see how this was going to help him, but then again, he wasn’t seeing a lot of things.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“ –the wound will never really be gone, but it won’t ache in the way it currently does.”

you were explaining how cooperation on his behalf will benefit him.

it was the third week, and there wasn’t much time left. you had been aware that a mere month wouldn’t be enough for effective progress, but you hadn’t expected time to pass so quickly.

here you were, unaware of whether anything you’ve said for the past few weeks has stuck to his head or not. you did know, though, that you’ve somehow gotten to proximity with the line which figuratively served as a barrier between you guys,

the next thing you asked would either bring progress or fuck up everything.

“a lot of people in your situation would decide to kill themselves” you started, “why haven't you?”

his head shot up, before going to its previous position. he thought he must’ve misheard you because what kind of person just asks that? sure, it did make him think, and– it made him think.

it made him think, which made him realize he had no answer. maybe he wouldn’t have said it out loud, but he would’ve had an answer in his head. why hasn’t he?

was it soccer? it had to be.

He lifted his gaze to look at you, and you were already looking at him. You smiled knowingly.

yeah, your office was cold, but you reeked of warmth– and he thinks if he knew what it was like to be human, he would relish in it.

the thought made him sick.

– – –

if he doesn’t believe it, it doesn’t exist.

that was why it was crucial to find a reason; if he wanted to be “human” that is. and he does. you could tell.

the next week, the last week, he was in your office, for probably the last time.

he never said it out loud, but he had a new goal.

the facade he once had– the mask he once wore, was fractured. it was what he sculpted throughout his time in bastard munchen. it was broken, as now his image has been stained.

but now, he will not only rebuild the mask, or build to cover the exterior, but rather build a skull, and a sternum; he will build what makes him physically human.

he will learn to function with his head, his heart, and his bones.

he finally engaged in conversation. you talked about hypotheticals and “what ifs” and turning them into reality.

if you didn’t care about that, then you wouldn’t be human

what you believe to be impossible– make it possible.

“you're alright, kaiser.” it's an observation. he wasn't sure what you meant by it. you think you weren't sure either.

you also see he truly is resilient.

he’s made it this far, after all.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

a/n: I tried not to make him too ooc... I envisioned him with the mindset he had when he was younger and was arrested,, where he looked like he'd completely given up on everything (so none of that cocky facade bs) I TRIED TO DO HIM JUSTICE.

taglist: @huaposh @bloodypaintersgf @gigiiiiislife @wishiknewwhatiwasdoingwithmylife

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thebottomfromhell · 11 months

Note

I hope that's ok, but could you write about the Upper Moons and their partner, who is their opposite? I just love the couple dynamic where "opposites attract". If you don't want to write about it, it's okay, in any case, have a nice day and mood!💞

Thank you 💞, I hope you like what I wrote. Since I didn't know if you wanted any specific Uppermoon... I did all of them (the adults), lol. Sorry if it's not what you wanted and that it took me some time. If asked something more specific I can go into more detail, but I hope this will be enough for the moment. Opposites attract is a lovely dynamic if done correctly so here is my attempt.

Opposited attract, human gn reader.

Warnings: A bit of Manga spoilers, Power imbalance and Mentions of cannibalism (both are mostly them refering of how they have to be careful with you), Some erotic themes implied, Kokushibou's and Gyutaro's insecurities, Akaza's angst, and Karaku will moan to annoy you (like the moaning while the other is on the phone type of context).

Kokushibou:

You are such a free-spirited and free-minded person.

Kokushibou can't forget how fragile you actually are, being a human, so he never acts upon it, but he can't help but envy you. "Koku-kun, calm down. The world won't die if the hierarchy does for a few minutes. Don't worry that pretty head of yours." He is so cold, but you warm him up as you are patient with him and try to get him to stop getting frustrated over the smallest things, like Akaza and Douma fighting or remembering his human life. "Don't call me that." He protests, but still lets you do as you please.

You are patient, tolerant and understanding, you don't hold yourself. He wishes he could be more like that and less like himself. There are times he just wants to push you away, for you to disappear, to stop reminding him what he isn't. But at the same time he craves having you by his side, to chase after you.

In the end he just stays by your side in silent, watching you be that beautiful self. "C'mon Koku, just relax. We are ok."

Douma:

You are very mature, specially in emotional intelligence.

Douma can't help but notice you know how to respond to everyone's feelings. You are very empathic and can easily deal with yourself without hurting others, not that Douma would know anything about being hurt. Still, you are very weird to him. Even when he teases you (and he can be cruel at doing so) you only take a deep breath. "Douma, please stop. I'm not standing those comments, they are hurtful and I will leave if you don't stop."

"Alright, alright. I will stop." It's not that he could not stop you from leaving, but it's weird how you handle the matter. You don't just barely tolerate unlike his followers and Gyokko, nor ignore him like Kokushibou and Muzan, much less attack him like Akaza, the Hashira and technically her. But this is not about her. It's about you. "Thank you for listening." You are honest but willing to compromise at the same time you stand for yourself in a respectful way.

You are just a human, like any other he could just eat you, but he doesn't want to. He wants to understand first. How? Why? That makes him always want stick around you. "Hey, Y/N. How about we go to my place? That would be lovely!" But he doesn't show it besides acting like he does with everyone else. Because Douma is bad with feelings.

Akaza:

You are always growing, not only physically, but mentally.

It scares Akaza, to be honest, how you are constantly transitioning and changing. "I just decided to try a new hobbie, might like it more than what I do in my free time now." If he looks away a more than a month you already changed your rutine, already have a different favorite things, and learned so much it changed your worldview. And for Akaza is a bit hard to keep up with it. "I have buyed a few more books, I will read them whenever I have time." Not also this, but you are aging, like the human you are.

"Become a demon, Y/N." He always tells you, afraid that one day you will not be there. Or worse, that you will but he won't be able to recognize you. Because you are always moving on, and he is stuck. Stuck as the third Uppermoon, stuck as a demon, stuck as a servant of Muzan, stuck in his hatred, stuck in the feeling someone something should be here but it's not, stuck in the need to bring up medicine something, stuck in his desesperation to get stronger to save them. But you don't become a demon, you will die, you will leave him behind too.

You always comfort him, and he stays close 24/7. He's afraid and can't let you go. "Please don't leave me behind." It's hard to convince him you won't, but still, besides you he is very happy. Sometimes he wishes you could get stuck with him, but he won't force to anything. "I'm here, Akaza." For now.

Nakime:

You are a humble sunshine! No, really, you smile as if both your wallet and mind were empty.

Nakime doesn't know what the heck she likes about you. You are lovely, she can easily admit that, but that's it? Still, she lets you around, you watch with awe her castle, wanting to touch everything, to explore everything. "Nakime-chan! Your house is the one of an empress!" You always compliment her for everything.

"You are also very impressive." She tries to answer that good vibes, it's bit hard to her. You don't mind it, you are fine with how little she gives. There is also the fact that you talk a lot and she can't keep up with that. "Nakime-chan, it's not necesary for you to compliment me. I know it doesn't come naturally to you. Just being around and you teaching me all this greatness make me so happy already."

But she loves being around you, she lets you explore but keeps an eye on you to make sure you are not hurt. She relaxes against the positive energy you bring to her home as you wander around or join her to talk to her. This is fine.

Hantengu:

You are brave and honest, always facing upfront everything. A natural leader.

Hantengu admires you a lot, but he also finds you quite intimidating. Everytime you are around he hides and covers himself, which is a bit cute with how nervious en embarrassed he is, but you always manage to find him to talk. You share yout thoughts and feelings easily and try to reach solutions. "I really think you should find a way to depend a bit less on the clones. They can't always be around."

"Al right, I will see into it. I promise. Just let me be, please. I'm very tired." He lies, he always lies. It's hard to not lie. To lie is to protect himself, and he's just so afraid. He knows you can deal with the situations but he is too paranoid to not lie. Still, you are patient with him, and he trusts you enough to rely on you. He really likes you because he can actually do that.

It's hard to be so afraid of everything, to not being able to trust himself. He didn't ask to be like this. You are a stable safespace. You are trying to communicate, no idea if there will ever be results. But you try.

Sekido:

You are a hyped disaster who just wants to have fun!

Sekido wants to die. What was going on with him falling in love with the perfect mix of Karaku and Urogi?! What the hell?! "C'mon Sweet-Cherry, let's just have fun!" You pull him into doing a reckless and useless activity that would probably get you both killed if he wasn't a demon. "DON'T CALL ME LIKE THAT!" He screams blushing, you are nothing more than trouble. You start laughing and keep teasing him and he just trembles of embarrassment and rage. "HOW DARE YOU?!"

He never does anything to you, how could he? Not only you are too precious, but you would die from an attack of his. Why must you be so infuriating?! Always being in the best mood?! "Ohhhh, are you mad? You look cute at mad, but you know what would be even more cute? A smile!" He really can't stand you... and that is why he just stays still as he lets you have your way with him, huh? There are times he is just amused and watches you be.

There are even times you got him to laugh "*gasp* Is that a smile? That's so cute!" He will always deny "NO, leave me alone!" He gets used to your teasing, and you know you've won when he starts teasing you back. "I stop looking at you and you almost kill yourself. Are you that needy?" He asked once amused. "Oh hell yeah, I am. You should always look at me!" He does.

Karaku:

You are a concentrated person with great ambitions.

Honestly? Karaku is always just chasing a good time, that includes chasing you at times. You, on the other hand, don't do anything without having actually thought about it, analyze the results, pro's and con's. "C'mon, Hot-stuff! Pay attention to me!" He is always trying to distract you when you are working.

You want more than what you have, you want to get big things, be big things, that you work hard for it. "Give me 15 more minutes and I'l spoil you, Karaku. But I'm working." He doesn't want to wait, so he puts himself on your ear and "Argh~ ohh fuck~ ahh, Y/N~ it feels- mnph!" You blush and cover his mouth with you hand, and he starts to lick it and suck it.

You always have to redo your schedule for him, he is greedy for attention and likes to mess around. He thinks it's funny both how you resist to his charms but also give in to them. He is supportive of you, so he will help if you tell him to do something in specific, but still. Karaku is a distraction, a pleasurable one, and you are addicted to it. It's only human to procrastinate. "Y/N! Let's have fun together!"

Urogi:

You are classy and collected, almost having a zen presence.

Urogi likes you a lot, "You are like, shiny but without glowing or reflecting light, if that makes sense" it doesn't, but you understand what Urogi wants to say. He is always moving and acting like an animal, he likes grabbing things with his feet, chew all his food together inside his mouth filling it until parts slip off his lips, destroy things and draw attention. But you also attrack people's attention.

"Behave a little Urogi, watch your manners." You wipe softly and kindly some dirt in his cheek with a piece of cloth, being patient and tender. Ever so calm, like a Buddha! And you are elegant as well, and Urogi only wants to play and mess with you. He wants to snach you away because he likes you. "Mine!"

He is always or moving around you or all over you, sometimes he kidnaps you before flying away. As he is careful to not hurt you, you are forever impossible to perturb. That only makes him crazier about you, hyped by only having you near. "Y/N, call me Baby-bird! I like it when you call me petnames! Call me something cute!" You only chuckle calmly before nodding and speaking gently. "Is this ok, my Baby-bird?" "Yay! Call me that again!"

Aizetsu:

You are loud and strong-willed [You are Naruto Uzumaki, believe it! Okno 🤣 sorry.]

Aizetsu looks up to you, you have a very strong character and a determined personality. You are not afraid to draw everyone's attention to yourself and to stand up for what you believe. "Sekido, stop scolding Aizetsu! He is trying his best! Aizetsu, baby, don't let him talk to you like that!" He really likes you and can't help himself but shy away.

"Thank you for defending me, Y/N. I'm sorry for being a bother." You lunge fowar to grab his shoulders with your arm and press him against you, making him blush. "You are not a bother, just... stop letting others talk and walk over you. And stop being so cute!" It's easy to forget who is the more powerful between you two, since you always take the lead and he lets you be fondly.

He likes when you hold him and cuddle him, loving that you just go for what you want and that you go for him. Most of the time you are physically touching somehow, he passive and letting you do whatever you are, blushing at most. And you all over him showering him with love. "You are my baby, Aizetsu! Don't forget it, I will always be there for you!"

Gyokko:

You are lazy, always looking tired, but very generous and kind.

Gyokko wants to scream everytime he sees you looking as if you just woke up. He actually does scream at times, horrified, really. "AHHHHHHHHH! Oh gods, oh gods, you look TERRIBLE! What happened?!" You just look at him, not really caring of your appereance, before smiling softly to him. "I stayed up late, that's all. Don't worry about me, Gyokko." That only frustrates him more "I'M NOT WORRIED! I'M DISGUSTED! GO BACK TO SLEEP!"

Honestly, there are times he thinks just eating you and get over with it would be easier, but he doesn't want to risk it. As a human, anything that happens to you might be your last breath. He doesn't want you gone, and it's easier to blame how fragile your body your state instead of the fact thatcyou don't take that much care of yourself. Specially because you care a lot for others, always helping around, giving others your time, energy and resources.

And while that is the reason he loves you, he feels you should focus more on yourself at times. But you spend a lot of time together. Sometimes you watch him from afar while he makes pots, other times he watches you help others. You watch him with kindness and awe, he watches whoever is with you with anger and frustration. "Stop wasting so much on others! Come with me right now, I'm taking you away!" You are the most patient and understanding, you you mend the problems you both have. "Let me finish this favor I promised someone and I will go out with you. Don't be impatient." He is impatient, but you both manage.

Gyutaro:

Well-born, you are very healthy in every sense possible.

Gyutaro doesn't even know what is that you like from him, he's poor, ugly, sounds ill, has low self-steem, can't say no to Daki, has enough envy to fill the district's money if he was paid for it, and you can keep listing. And you still stay around. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what is going on."

He has so much envy of you. You are reliable with your emotions, you have a body you clearly take care of, a well developed brain and skills, you are socially apt, and you were born in a family with money. You are everything he hates and yet you are so good... "I really just want... something, ne. I don't know. Give me something from you, ne." You give him a hug and he burries his face into you.

You know how to treat yourself and others without getting hurt, without being anything like him. He really would love to be more like you, just like he loves to have you around to help him. Because he loves his sister, but he also wants somwhere he can heal, and you are good health personificated for him "Let's keep this a bit, ne." He tells you. "Alright, and you're welcome." He thanks you softly as he follows your lead and trust you to help him with whatche needs, even when he doesn't want ir or disagrees.... he thinks you could fix him.

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deancaspinefest · 4 months

Text

Significant severe

Author: Tossukka | Artist: girlinthemirrorbluenight

Posting on Monday March 25

A TV meteorologist Castiel Novak believes storm chasers who livestream their adventures online must only be looking for adrenaline rushes from dangerous situations. When an attractive storm chaser Dean Winchester and Castiel meet at their shared alma mater’s alumni event, they end up arguing over the issue. To show Castiel the realities of his work, Dean invites Castiel to join him on a chase for a few weeks. Castiel is intrigued, and unexpectedly, his employer agrees to let him count it as field work. After their disastrous first meeting, Castiel expects to share a civil but distant working relationship with Dean. And yet, in the volatile atmosphere of the tornado season, both the storms and Castiel’s attraction to Dean grow more intense day by day.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“Now, now, storm chasers are an important part of the weather industry. You know that as well as I do, Castiel,” a man said speaking in a British accent. “Personally I just don’t think the people who voluntarily drive themselves in the middle of what is often hell on Earth can be in their right minds. They end up blocking the roads and making an already dangerous situation even more so,” the one who had been called Castiel said. Dean frowned. “But they do good too. Collect data, confirm warnings, save lives.” “I’m only saying I believe they must have some self-destructive tendencies, that is all.” Dean couldn’t listen more without interrupting. “Excuse me?” he said and pushed his way to the two men. “Sorry for pushing my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I couldn’t help overhearing the discussion.” The dark-haired man’s bright blue eyes widened a little as he saw Dean. There was a hint of recognition in them, and Dean suspected the man already knew who he was. “Heh, my name is Dean Winchester. Well, I work as a storm chaser among other things. Your discussion sounded interesting,” Dean introduced himself. “Oh-ho! There we go, Cassie. You can talk to a professional about your suspicions,” the British guy said. “Call me Balthazar, Dean. Nice to meet you.” Even in the middle of his annoyance, Dean couldn’t help noticing Castiel was just his type. Except that he was clearly an asshole. Well no, that also had been very much Dean’s type over the years. Shit. “So Cas, you think I like risking my life for cheap thrills then?” Dean asked, not bothering to beat around the bush. Castiel frowned. “Don’t you?” “Oh dude, it’s so much more than that. I can admit there’s an element of thrill being so close to the greatest forces of nature, but just so you know, storm chasers take a lot of cautionary measures to keep themselves safe during chasing,” Dean said. “It’s not just aimlessly driving around like maniacs and blocking roads from other citizens. There’s a lot of science connected to it, and a bit of experience needed to keep yourself and others out of trouble.” “I don’t doubt that, Dean,” Castiel said. “I’m sure you are very good at what you do. But you are putting yourself needlessly in danger.” “I’m not,” Dean said. “Listen, have you ever been storm chasing?” “No.” “Okay then,” Dean said. “How about this? Do you want to join me for the peak of the Southern Plains tornado season? Let’s say May? Two weeks, full month, whatever works for you. Get a taste of the cheap thrills.” “I…” Cas hesitated. “I don’t think I can take that much time off work.” “I’ll give you some time to consider,” Dean said and pulled out his business card. Charlie had designed them, and they had a little drawn picture of his beloved Impala driving towards a looming comic book version of a tornado next to his name. “Call me if you want to try it.”

(continue reading on Ao3 on Monday March 25)

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel art #deancas art #pinefest 2024 #pinefest previews #2024 Dean/Cas Pinefest #author: Tossukka #artist: girlinthemirrorbluenight #Enemies to friends to lovers #road trip #alternate universe - scientists

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romanarose · 7 months

Text

Please Don’t Go?

Santiago Garcia x Gn!reader

Summary: You beg Santi not to leave for work.

Warnings: Extremely depressed reader, Santi worries they might be a danger to themself. Eating problems but not for weight loss, more appetite loss. References to concerns of self harm in some way. Proceed with caution.

Immersability: reader is gender neutral so you can imagine fem, masc, non binary etc. but I generally write fem so if I mess up on pronouns or something lmk. Santi can carry reader.

AN: Written on my phone bc I’m having a time rn and just wanna lay in bed and think of Santiago. Writing will probably sound worse than my usual bullshit.

*****************

Santi had been forced hit snooze 6 times already. You wouldn’t let him leave.

He knew you’d been struggling, and nothing he could do seemed to help. You didn’t respond to anything he tried. He couldn’t get you to go for a walk; the only time you went outside was when he picked you up and took you. Hell, he’d bought and assembled a porch swing just so that you could stay attached to him since you would not let go.

You weren’t eating. He tried cooking home made, he tried ordering your favorites, he even tried getting you desert for dinner just so you’d eat something. In the end he had to threaten to take you to the hospital if you didn’t at least choke down a few bites per meal; Santiago tried his best to make the most nutritious food he could. Soon enough he figured out you’d eat smoothies, and put all the powders, spinach, and super fruits he could get his hands on as well as nutrition shakes. It was better than nothing.

You only washed when he drew you a bath or showered with you.

You didn’t do any of your crafts you enjoyed.

You didn’t laugh at your shows or read books or listen to podcasts.

You weren’t you.

The benefit of consulting is he could do a lot of work at home, which he did so he could help care for you…. But there was another reason. He was scared to leave you alone.

He frequently texted, called when he could, and if you didn’t answer he asked Frankie Ben or Will to check in. They usually found you catatonically watching mindless TV in a daze.

It was getting worse.

“Hey baby, I need to get going, okay? I can get ready in the room if you want…” Santiago attempted to get up, but you caught his hand. With sad, already tearful eyes at 7 AM, you look up at him where he sat.

“Please don’t go?”

“Mi amor I have to… I have a presentation to do….”

He watched your lip quiver, letting go of his hand and sliding it back under the covers and look away from him, dejected.

“Okay.” You were closing off from him.

“I love you.” He said, again and again and again as he dressed, brushed his teeth, made breakfast and placed a breakfast sandwich in front of you, but only short responses. You weren’t mad. If you were mad, he could handle it… but your were sad, and that hurt him, so, so much. He’d hid all the sharp knives, razors, belts, anything he thinks might be a danger to you, but he didn’t feel right leaving. His gut told he couldn’t go…

Santiago called his boss, an old army pal of his. “Hey man… listen I uh… I’m not feeling good, can Will do the presentation? I can send him over the notes and-“

“No one knows it better than you, Pope. C’mon, you’ve been working on this for months, what’s wrong?”

“I just uhhh I have a cold, that’s all.”

“That’s not it, is it?”

Damn him. He knew Santi too well. “No, it’s not.” Santi explained it, how badly you were doing and how worried he was. That gut feeling.

His boss listened. “Do you think you can come in for just the presentation?”

“Yeah, yeah man I can do that.” Benny could come over for those two hours, keep you company.

“Okay, just come in at noon and then talk to me, we’ll see if we can’t get you some time off for this. After this project is done, me and Will can take on some of your duties.

“I appreciate it I do, but I don’t want you guys to have to-“

“Pope, your family is sick, it’s doesn’t matter that it’s mental. They need you. You’d do the same for us.”

When Santi came back into the room, he found you softly crying and promptly climbed back into bed after kicking off his shoes. Santiago pulled you into his arms and held you close as you cried… softly, he cried with you. He was worried, so fucking worried.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart… it’ll be okay. I’m gonna take care of you. Whatever you need, I’m here… but baby?” With a gentle hand, Santi tilted your face up too look at him. He really was so, so handsome. Dark skin, sharp jaw, and normal steely eyes wet with worry. “We need to get you help, okay? We need to get you in with a psych. We can’t do this alone.”

You consider for a moment before burrying your head into his chest. “Okay.”

*******************

Idk I’m in a mood.

Started writing this, roommate came home and tried talking to me, I was already trying not to cry so she asked me if I was okay which naturally made me cry. I’ve never cried in front of her before so I think she was surprised but gave me a really nice hug.

No tag list bc I’m on my phone and tired but I’ll rb tomorrow with the tag list if I find the energy

Love y’all, please take care of yourselves.

#santiago garcia #Santiago Garcia x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #Santiago Garcia hurt comfort #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago pope garcia #hurt comfort #tw depression #tw sh

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tetsumie · 1 year

Text

𝐈 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋

pairing: kuroo x gen!neutral reader

genre: angst

a/n: slightly self indulgent :( but anyways this is my first fic on this blog and i'm trying to get back into writing again which feels really nice <3 also i miss my boy kuroo :(

god, how you wish you wouldn't have to do what you're about to do.

sitting on the bench in front of the lake, you fiddle with your fingers waiting for your boyfriend, kuroo, to show.

it wasn't a date or anything and he told you he was coming from a study group with some friends to meet you. the whole thing was an incredibly sporadic meetup.

"y/n!" you hear his voice and you turn your neck to see him slightly jogging towards you with his messy hair.

"hi tetsu," you reply with a small smile on his face.

he slows down his pace as he reaches you and his lips turn upwards into that smirk that you've grown to love in the months of your relationship with him.

his stupid little smirk.

"did i keep you waiting for too long?" he asks you.

you shook your head. "no no no! i was just looking at the lake for a bit and listening to some music. don't worry about it."

"sorry... study group kind of got carried away. organic chem is kicking our asses," he replies with a chuckle and you let out one as well.

"but... i did get you flowers!" he pulls out a bouquet of white carnations and your heart flutters but the feeling is immediately retracted when you remind yourself why you called him over.

"t-tetsu, you really didn't have to," you begin to stammer.

"sure i didn't have to but i wanted to," he kisses your cheek. "anything for my pretty."

he puts the bouquet in your hands and sits with you on the bench, viewing the lake with you. you're unusually quiet and kuroo feels something is off.

as he's about to ask you what's wrong, you intervene with, "tetsu can we walk for a bit?"

"y-yeah sure."

the both of you stand up and begin to walk around the sidewalk surrounding the lake. people of all kinds are here. some are walking their dogs, some with their kids, others out on a jog, some riding their skateboards, and more. even couples just like you and kuroo are present.

you still aren't saying anything and any topic kuroo brings up, you're giving curt responses and it's worrying him. what's going on?

"y/n," kuroo's upbeat voice turns to one with a bit of a more stern tone. "stop."

you stop moving and you turn to meet his honey golden brown eyes.

those honey golden brown eyes filled with love and affection just for you.

looking him in the eye was still intimidating to you even after all this time and you felt the goosebumps form on your arm.

"what's going on?" he tilts his head. "you haven't said much the entire time we've been here."

you break eye contact and you're looking everywhere else on his face other than his eyes now. you know the moment you look into his eyes, he's going to read you like an open book and you're going to burst into tears.

"my mom and dad want us to break up."

the world around kuroo silences. he can't hear the dogs barking anymore or the sound of the skateboard wheels riding along the cement or the laughter from the children walking around with their families. the only thing he can hear are your words.

"oh."

you can see the heartbreak take over his handsome facial features and you can't help but feel at fault for all of it. it's your fault now that he's upset.

"but why? i didn't do anything! i mean, we haven't formally met, but we've said hello and stuff on call! i don't think i was disrespectful? right, i wasn't disrespectful?" he begins to ramble.

"no, tetsu, you were never disrespectful to them." you reply in a low voice.

"then why do they want us to break up? it doesn't make sense.. we haven't done anything wrong?" he asks.

"they just... they think me in a relationship with you is all too soon. us being in such a committed relationship is too soon."

you bit your lip waiting for his response and his gaze refused to leave your face. "y/n, there must be something more to this. tell me the entirety of their reasoning."

goddammit, he would always be able to read you like an open book.

"they were talking about how... well.. they don't think you're good for me.." you mumble.

he doesn't say anything for a moment and you feel your heart drop. you look at him and now his face is unreadable. you can't seem to figure out what's going through his mind.

"i'll talk to them," determination laced with his voice. "i'll change their mind."

"tetsuro, please..." you grab his wrist and you refuse to look back up at him knowing if you do, the tears will unconventionally fall. "it's not... it's not worth it."

"our relationship is worth it to me!" he says, his voice growing louder. "your parents are trying to pull us apart and you're just letting them! don't you want to try?"

"don't you think i did?!" you reply.

"i told them you're different! i told them how much i love you and how much you care about me and how i'm willing to spend the rest of my life with you if you asked me to! i would do it in a heartbeat! i told them that you, you, are my first love."

he hears the pain in your voice as you begin to tell him.

"kuroo, i never wanted to hurt you but i... i'm in a tough spot where i don't want to hurt my parents but i don't want to hurt you either."

he feels the wet tear droplets on his wrist and he realizes you're crying. and it hits him.

"how long have you been keeping this in?"

"..."

"how long, y/n?"

"about a month now..."

you've known for so long and yet you couldn't tell him. were you that horrified to tell him about it? he sighs. he hates the fact that you're crying.

and a part of him feels responsible for your tears.

"so what now?" he asks. "what do you want to do?"

you begin to wipe your tears, still refusing to look him in the face. you can't bare to see the expression on his face after everything that's been said.

"i... i don't know."

silence fills the space between you too and neither one of you know what to say. you refuse to look at him and he won't stop looking at your figure in front of him, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you'll look up at him.

"y/n," he says with a strength that you weren't expecting from him. "look at me... please?"

it comes out as more of a request and you can't not look up at him. your heart breaks even more at the sight. there are tear stains on his face and his eyes are stained light red.

his eyes. his honey golden brown eyes. the ones that would hold a soft gaze reserved just for you have now turned erratic and empty altogether.

he looks so vulnerable right now and you feel that it's your fault that your relationship is crumbling so quickly.

"let's break up kuroo," you tell him before he can say anything to sway your heart and mind. "i've been thinking about this for too long and i need to accept my parents' wishes."

his heart chips even more when you call him by his last name. his body screams to stop you from making this decision. he wants to believe this is all some horrifying prank but with the way your eyes are looking at him, he knows it's not.

"okay," he says.

"okay," you reply back.

he bends down a little and takes your face in his palms and you resist the urge to rub your cheek along his familiar palm like you used to. he rubs his thumb along your cheek and you feel the hot tears forming in your eyes.

right as a tear slip pasts your eye, kuroo's lips meet your cheeks and he begins to kiss away every tear that seems to slip away from your eyes.

you're never going to be able to feel his touch on your face again.

you're never going to feel the warmth of his skin on yours again.

you're never going to be able to feel the way his calloused hand fits into yours.

you're never going to be able to feel him again.

his last kiss ends on your lips and you don't have it in you to kiss him back, scared of making a decision you would regret. as he pulls away from you, you open his palm and place the bouquet of flowers back in his hands.

"don't give this back to me; it's yours," he tells you.

"please take it back... i don't want them."

with much hesitation, he takes back the flowers he picked out for you and his arms drop to his sides.

"i love you, you know that right?" you begin to say. "i love you. so fucking much."

he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i love you, always," he speaks it into the air and places a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

"i always will."

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lolaandthens0me · 7 months

Note

Hey Lola! I love your posts and content! I gotta ask this: What has your Poly Journey looked like for you, and is there anything that I should be mindful of within my own journey?

Salutations Anon! And thank you for the kind words.

Wow, what a fantastic question! It has been quite the journey filled with much love, some heartache, an abundance of patience and growth, and real hard work in self-awareness and compassion...along with more than a smattering of fun, fuckery, and so.much.travel.

My journey began with a quiet aching within my heart and unsettledness within my gut. I think I've always known that I was polyamorous and bisexual, but I've not always had the vocabulary to express that. I am a being with an extraordinary capacity to love, and although I had so much love within my marriage (and still share with my ex), my heart was calling for more. There came a time where I felt that if I didn't make a change, the real person I was inside was going to be gone forever. The part that makes me Lola. I believe that I was put on this Earth to love, to share my body, and to share my heart and empathy in order to help others learn how to heal and love themselves.

The first step was to learn how to communicate honestly, even if it meant hurting someone I loved. I read books and blogs about how to be an active communicator instead of a passive one. And then I practiced. I surrounded myself with wonderful friends who listened, pushed me to speak my truth, and helped me figure out just what is was that I felt I was missing, I was being called to pursue, and they supported me, every step of the way, in who I was becoming.

Then I had to learn how to ask for what I want. This is a lesson that I continue to relay to all of my friends and partners. I have learned how to compassionately, but confidently and with kindness, ask specifically for what I want. One way that I continue to do this is by being very upfront about who I am and what kind of life/relationships I want with any potential play partner/kinky friend/partner...the people that I want to be my whole, true, unedited self with.

I also had to do the hard thing. After months and months of therapy, couple's therapy, open, honest conversations, time spent alone and together, trials of compromise and an open relationship to a degree - I had to say that I wanted to separate. I was married for almost 15 years at this point. That was one of the hardest days of my life. But I felt caged, frail, like the color was being completely drained from me. They say that it takes a good 2 years after a separation/dissolution/divorce to get your life back to something normal again. I have not quite made it to that mark yet...but I believe that's true. My ex and I chose to rewrite a new chapter for our relationship, to write our own book, to remain friends and in each other's lives...and wow, has that been hard. But I am so fucking grateful and happy that we've done that work. And we are in a wholly different, beautiful place.

Now for the fun, but also tricky part...I began forming new relationships. I think I've always known that I would be someone who would want and thrive with a Primary partner. I was lucky, my Primary partner, RY, was a friend first, and grew very organically and beautifully into more than that. We both made a promise to each other very early on that we would keep checking in and evaluating the health of ourselves, our processes of getting over a breakup, and the state and wellbeing of our relationship as it blossomed and grew into what it is today. As long as we were both still growing individually and encouraging each other into happy and healthy people, then we would continue growing our relationship. We communicate openly and honestly about everything, we have been patient in allowing one another the space to mourn the loss of our marriages with empathy, and we have taken our time to rebuild ourselves, bringing our best selves to each other. It worked out that he also was looking to explore polyamory. We're both still new at this, but we talk about and work through every growing pain along the way.

Then along came my other partner. She and I had a connection right away. Our close friendship naturally grew into something more. She and my primary partner were also friends, and honestly, I think that really helps. It is just amazing to see the two of them talk and laugh and genuinely enjoy being around each other, and they both reach out to one another in their love for me. I was always clear about who RY was to me and what our relationship was, and so that helped lay the foundation for my second relationship. I check in a lot with her to make sure that she feels loved, seen, and heard, and that we have enough time in person together. It's fantastic that we can be things and do things with one another that just simply don't fit into our other relationships.

I have learned what my boundaries are (and the fact that I actually need boundaries) within myself to ensure that I remain intact and wholly my own, as well as a giving, loving, deeply connected partner. It was important for me to live by myself right now, not something I've ever done before. I made this choice for the past year because I know my codependent tendencies and I wanted to break out of that mold. I still struggle sometimes with not giving all of my energy to those I love. I must save some for myself and I have found ways to replenish that energy. Time and energy; I'm still learning how to balance these within a polyamorous life.

I continue to work on approaching every conversation with empathy and an open mind and heart. I continue to keep searching within myself and bring that self-awareness to my relationships. I continue to push myself to see a different way and live a different way. I continue to surround myself with open-minded people that see me, know me, support me, and love me in this new life I'm creating. I continue to take time to be by myself and breathe. I continue to search out new opportunities that challenge me and fulfill me. I continue to be a student of life. And I continue to lean into love.

I love you @resonantyes and @hbananer - thank you for this life.

#polyamory #poly life

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 8 months

Text

Something There (Chapter 10)

5.1k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, one smutty scene because these two deserve it, lots of flirting, self-indulgent fluff (my chapter 10 tradition at this point!)

A/N: For the full effect, listen to Lavender Haze on repeat while reading because I listened to it almost non-stop while writing 💜

Series Masterlist

The tips of Roy’s fingers tingled as he waited for the door to open. For the last couple of hours, he was convinced he was living in a dream as he got ready for- fuck was it really happening?- their first date.

After their scorching kiss in the rain, Roy had promised to come back at seven to take her out on a real date. One that would involve dinner, drinks, and, hopefully, a return to Roy’s bedroom. He’d rushed home to get himself showered and ready, remembering how anxiously he’d looked at himself in the mirror the night of the gala, wondering about her. This time, however, Roy’s stomach was filled less with anxiety and more with butterflies.

When she opened the door, Roy made no attempt to stop his jaw from dropping. He’d jokingly asked her to wear the little black dress she’d worn at the club all those months ago; apparently, despite her fierce independent streak, she listened well. The dress hugged her curves even better than he’d remembered, she had that perfect model hair that he wanted to touch, and her lips were so red and so kissable. And tonight, Roy got to lean forward and kiss them.

“Hi,” he hummed as he pulled back, leaning in the doorframe casually; even with his heart hammering in his chest, he could at least appear cool.

Apparently it worked, because she gazed up at him with those wide eyes, just as unsure as he felt. “Hey yourself.” She tilted her face to his and stole another kiss, a slow, sweet kiss, one that Roy couldn’t help sighing into. “Ready to go?”

He grabbed her hand and tugged her through the door. “Been ready for a long time.”

The ride to the restaurant was short, filled with hand-holding and easy conversation about their teams. Roy parked in the back, explaining that he’d pulled a couple of strings to get them some privacy. With his hand on the small of her back, he led her through the backdoor, into the kitchen. A hostess was there waiting for them with a bright smile, as though she greeted football legends in the staff parking lot all the time.

“I feel like I’m in Goodfellas,” Buck laughed, gazing up at Roy as they scurried through the kitchen, too wrapped up in each other to notice the smiles of the kitchen staff.

“You ever read the book it's based on?” Roy asked with a grin as they were led out of the kitchen. “It’s fucking great.”

While the hostess led them to a secluded corner, Roy ducked his head, trying not to draw attention. Likewise, Buck nuzzled close to Roy’s chest, turning her smiling face away from the rest of the world. Her smile widened when they entered their little private dining room, with a table set for two and low lighting. He pulled out her chair for her, pressing a kiss to her soft hair before she sat. Her giggle assured him that everything was perfect.

For the first time, the two of them just… talked. They exchanged favorite books and movies. They told childhood stories, especially ones about football. She listened with interest, no pity on her face, when Roy quietly explained his youth in Sunderland. He smiled broadly while she recalled her excitement when she was called up to the US National Women’s Team.

With every word and moment of laughter shared, Roy Kent found himself falling further in love.

“Oi, are you the manager of the Richmond Whippets? The new women’s team?”

I smirked up at the man who slid up next to me at the bar, handsome and bearded and smiling. “Why yes, I am,” I hummed over the pulsing club music. “Say, aren’t you the Roy Kent?”

He nodded, lifting his beer. “I am.” His eyes travelled unabashedly down my figure. “How about I buy you a drink? Give you a proper Richmond welcome?”

“That would be nice.”

Roy quickly ordered my drink, his fingers brushing against mine when he handed it to me. “Welcome to Richmond.”

I bit back a snicker and pressed myself close to him. “Wow, you Greyhounds sure are friendly,” I teased, batting my eyelashes at him. “You treat every coach like this?”

He ducked down to purr in my ear. “Only the gorgeous ones.”

It took every ounce of self-control not to attach my lips to his right then and there. But doing so would ruin the game; Roy, in a shockingly adorable display of romance, had brought me to the club where we’d first spoken, claiming he wanted to ‘make up for being the world’s biggest wanker’ the night we met.

So now he stood, gazing down at me with what could only be described as total affection, his fingertips brushing at the small of my back. “You know, Keeley Jones gave us a little report on you,” he murmured, the sparkle in his eye telling me he was enjoying his little performance. “Olympic gold medalist, hmm?”

I rolled my eyes and tucked some hair behind my ear. “Yes,” I giggled. “World Cup champion as well,” I added, giving him my cockiest grin.

“Wow.” He raised his thick eyebrows, giving an exaggerated look of awe. “Fucking impressive. Your boyfriend must be fucking proud of you.”

I sipped my drink coyly. “No boyfriend,” I answered with a wink.

He leaned closer, his hand wandering further down my backside. “Well then. No one would be mad if I asked you for a dance then?”

Fuck, Roy’s little game was getting me hot.

Roy urged me towards the dance floor, sipping his beer as we walked. Deciding to fuel the flirtation, I turned my back to him, pressing my backside against him. The vibration from his soft groan tickled my back; I’d made the right choice. Sipping my drink, I began to move my hips, melting a little when Roy planted his hand firmly on my hip. It had been a while since I’d last danced with a guy like this, flirty and seductive; but with Roy it was so damn easy. When I gave a particularly wicked grind against him, his breath was on my ear.

“You’re fucking mean,” he growled.

I tilted my face back towards him. “Don’t play nice, remember?”

I could feel his smile against my bare shoulder. “I remember.”

Two songs. We lasted two whole songs of drinking and grinding and flirting. When I felt something hard against my backside, I glanced back at Roy, eyebrows raised.

“Are you inviting me over for a drink or what, Kent?”

Sam Cooke on the stereo. Glasses of Scotch on the coffee table. Roy Kent’s mouth on mine.

It felt familiar to me now, and I couldn’t get enough. He had one hand firmly in my hair while the other wandered up and down my bare thigh. Mine gripped his muscular arms, trying to pull him closer. As I trailed kisses down his jaw, leaving a path of red lipstick stains on his skin, he squirmed and let out a soft groan.

“D’you- d’you want me to drive you home?” His voice was soft and timid, as if he was dreading my answer.

I pulled back from where I’d been planting sloppy kisses on his neck and stood, taking his hand in mine. “Come on, Kent,” I hummed. “Let’s see if I remember where your bedroom is.”

My heels came off in the living room. Roy lost his shirt somewhere in the hallway. The zipper on my dress was halfway down by the time he opened his bedroom door. By the time we fell onto his bed, we were both down to just our underwear and a pair of smiles.

“How’d you manage to get more perfect than last time?” Roy breathed as his eyes followed his hand up my tummy. “Fucking gorgeous.”

“You’re not too bad yourself, Kent,” I teased, running my fingers through his soft, curly hair. “Why d’you think I like running with you so much?” I pressed a kiss to his nose. “You without a shirt? Great view.”

He thanked me for my compliment with a deep kiss and a hand on my breast. I arched into his touch, hooking my leg behind his back and bucking my hips up into him. His other hand roamed down my body until reaching my panties; I mentally thanked myself for the recent impulse purchase of this sexy little lace pair. Roy thumbed at the material, groaning when he brushed against the wet spot that had probably begun to form back at the club.

“Can I take these off?” he murmured, grazing his nose against my cheek. “Pretty fucking please?”

Shit. I could probably come just from the tone of his voice, all sugary and affectionate. The only thing I could do was nod desperately as Roy removed the pesky material. His fingers immediately came to my entrance, rubbing gentle circles, smearing the slick that had already gathered.

Roy buried his face in the crook of my neck. “Fucking hell,” came his muffled moan.

“Roy,” I gasped, giving his hair a little tug. “I swear on my life, if you don’t take your fucking boxers off right now-”

He pulled his face away from my neck and gazed at me with a soft smile. “Fucking needy,” he teased, kissing my forehead. “I have been waiting for this since the gala,” he reminded me, his voice far too relaxed for someone who was inching his fingers into my cunt. “Let me enjoy you.”

So I did. I threw my head back with a soft groan, focusing on the sensation of Roy’s two fingers exploring me, pumping in and out with leisurely ease. He watched my face carefully, smirking every time I shuddered or gasped or did something to show I was enjoying myself. When he added his thumb to my clit, the sound of my lewd moan practically echoed throughout the house.

“Dammit, Buck,” he murmured, kissing my mouth. “You were holding back last time. I fucking love the way you sound.”

I opened my eyes and narrowed them playfully. “Don’t call me ‘Bucky’ in bed, remember?” I nipped at his jaw. “That’s only for the pitch, Roy.”

He laughed and followed my mouth, stealing another kiss as he continued his slow strokes. “What should I call you then? Babe? Gorgeous? Darling?”

The giggle that tumbled past my lips was girlish, almost unrecognizable to me. “Darling, huh? Shit, you sound so English saying that.”

“Forgot you Americans love the accent,” he teased. He brought his lips to my ear, sending shivers down my spine as he whispered, “Darling, I fancy you.”

“Fuck,” I laughed. “That should not turn me on that much.” I gripped his arms tightly, grinding harshly into his hand. “And yet…” I raised my eyebrows coyly. “Roy?”

“Yes, darling?”

I buried my groan against his face. “Are you going to fuck me, or what?”

His laughter filled the room and my heart. “See, this is what happens when two managers get together. Fucking bossy.” He nuzzled his nose against mine. “You’re lucky you’re beautiful.” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Darling.”

“Well since I’m so damn bossy,” I huffed with a chuckle. My fingertips tingled as I reached down and began tugging down his boxers; a soft groan flew out of my mouth when I felt his leaking tip brush against my already sticky inner thigh.

Bringing his mouth back to mine, Roy slowly removed his fingers, swallowing my reflexive whine. He pulled his face away so he could watch me, his bearded face colored with affection, as he slowly inched into me. His lips curved into a smile when my hips lifted off the bed, my body begging him to thrust into me already.

“Fuck,” I whimpered as my eyes screwed shut.

How could anyone ever hate Roy Kent? How could I ever hate Roy Kent?

Roy Kent, with his fingers that dug into my skin and left a burning trail. Roy Kent, with his mouth that swallowed every moan and swear word that he elicited from my mouth. Roy Kent, with his cock that stretched and filled me as if our bodies were made for each other. Roy Kent, with his delicious growl that said my name like a prayer. Roy Kent, with those soft brown eyes that held the one word neither of us quite knew how to say: love.

The rolling of his hips was slow, intentional, languid, as though we had all the time in the world. The heat and urgency from last time was gone, replaced with affection and tenderness. Along with the utter pleasure between my legs, I felt safe, adored, cherished in Roy’s arms. I ran my hands down the warm skin of his back, my nails softly grazing his skin, hoping he felt the same affection from me.

“Want you so bad,” Roy huffed between thrusts, pressing his damp forehead to mine. “Wanted you- wanted you for a while.”

“You’ve got me,” I assured him. “You’ve fucking got me.”

He nodded, his beard scratching my face deliciously. “I- I really want you,” he repeated breathlessly. “Not just tonight. But… I want you.”

Most other guys, most other nights, this would be far too intimate- especially on a first date. But because it was Roy- and he had those eyes- and was kissing me with that mouth- and all we’d been through to get to this moment-

“Roy Kent,” I whispered, knowing this would be the last coherent sentence I’d be able to manage for a while. “I’m fucking yours.”

It was the happiest morning Roy had experienced in a long time. Maybe the happiest morning ever.

Bucky’s back was pressed against his chest. She was wearing one of his black shirts, her lipstick was completely fucked, her hair was a mess, her neck was covered in little red marks. And she was the most perfect thing Roy had ever seen. She stirred in her sleep, pressing closer to his body. When she mumbled sleepy nonsense, he swore he heard his name on her lips.

Careful not to wake her, Roy wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer. This was what the morning after the gala should have been, he thought to himself. Sleepy bliss as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, smiling when he breathed in that now familiar scent of lavender and vanilla, his new favorite combination. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, just holding her, but he could see the early morning light begin to peek through the window just as she turned her head to glance at him.

Roy tightened his grip around her middle. “Don’t you fucking dare run away this time,” he joked. “I’m making a proper English breakfast for my favorite Yank.”

She shifted onto her back, stroking Roy’s cheek as she gazed up at him. “No running away,” she promised softly. “I’m afraid there’s no getting rid of me now, Roy Kent.”

“That a fucking promise?” Roy heaved himself on top of her, laughing as he gently squashed her. “So? How about some breakfast?”

“Sounds perfect.” She smacked a kiss to his cheek, which he tried to turn into a real kiss. She ducked away. “Nuh-uh, I’ve got morning breath.”

Roy laughed and followed her mouth. “Do I look like I fucking care?” With that, he stole a real kiss, loving the way she gave into him and even let her tongue brush against his lips. Before he could be tempted to escalate things further, Roy rolled out of bed and held out his hand to her. “Coffee?”

Hand in hand, the two ambled to the kitchen, exchanging bashful smiles when they saw their discarded clothes along the way. Once in the kitchen, Roy grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the counter, savoring her surprised little squeak. He got his coffeemaker going and turned his attention to the fridge so he could start pulling out ingredients.

“Want any help?” she asked from her perch as she tried to smooth down her wild hair.

Roy shook his head, pausing to kiss her nose. “Fuck no. I told you I was making you breakfast, so I’m making you breakfast.”

So she sat, smiling softly as she watched him prepare eggs and sausages and beans and all the other things he’d bought just for her. He brought her a mug of coffee, exchanging it for a slow kiss before returning to his cooking.

“Keeley wasn’t fucking kidding,” she murmured.

Roy turned and looked at her with a curious grin. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged. “A while back, just before the gala actually, she was telling me what a great boyfriend you are. Said she could basically write you a letter of recommendation.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” He paused his work to come stand between her thighs, eyebrows raised teasingly.

He loved seeing her blush, all soft and timid compared to her usual toughness. “I mean… you know… we… you’re just…” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, fuck off Kent.” With that, she pressed her mouth to his, as though trying to distract him, or shut him up. Probably both.

Roy laughed against her lips, cupping her face. When he pulled back, he noticed her blush had deepened. “I can be whatever you want,” he murmured softly.

The shyest smile spread across her sleepy face. “How about ‘mine’?” Immediately, her eyes widened and she ducked her head. “Shit,” she laughed awkwardly. “That sounded so… fuck, I’m sorry, is that too…?”

Roy lifted her chin tenderly. “Oi,” he whispered in his softest voice. “I have been fucking waiting to be yours, Buck. For a while now. But if you think things are… are going too fast or if they get too intense or if I…” He cleared his throat. “If I get too clingy… Please fucking tell me.” He brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. “I’m just so fucking happy right now,” he explained. “And I know I can get really fucking intense and clingy and-”

“Roy.” She smiled and brought her hand to his cheek. “I think if any two people have earned the right to be intense and clingy, it’s us, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” Roy leaned his forehead to hers as a smile spread across his face. “We’ve fucking earned it.”

I spent the entire weekend with Roy. After my full English breakfast and some rather adult activities in the kitchen, Roy drove me home to grab a few things; other than that, we didn’t leave his house at all. We fell into a pattern of sex, and cuddling, and eating, and more sex, all weekend long. I found that I really liked wearing his shirts around his house and eating the food he cooked and laughing at his stories about the Greyhounds and watching the movies he loved- and dammit, I really liked him.

Late Sunday evening, we lounged on his couch, some old black and white movie on the television. I sat back, with my legs thrown over his lap, loving the feeling of his hand roaming up and down my bare legs as he watched the movie. His eyes kept wandering over to me, full of warmth and affection.

My eyes, however, landed on the clock.

“I should head home soon,” I murmured, shifting myself until I was straddling Roy’s lap, facing him. “We should both get some rest after…” I grinned mischievously. “Well, let’s just say it was a very active weekend.”

Roy brushed some loose hair off of my face. “I don’t want rest.” He pressed a slow kiss to my lips. “Fucking want you.”

A low groan escaped my throat as I pressed my forehead to his; fuck, staying in this house forever was tempting. “We’ve got training in the morning, Coach,” I reminded him pointedly, probably reminding myself more.

“Let’s just fucking cancel training then. Tell everyone we’re sick.” The grin he wore told me he was half-joking. Maybe a little less than half.

I ran my fingers through his hair and gently pushed his head back. “Oh yeah, both managers calling in sick,” I scoffed. “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“Fucking spoilsport,” he hummed, pecking my nose. His hand wandered up the black shirt I was borrowing to stroke my bare back. “So, since apparently you’re making me go to work tomorrow, what d’you think about…” He cleared his throat, not quite looking me in the eye. “Tomorrow. At Nelson Road. Are we, I don’t fucking know, telling people? About… this? Us?”

“Oh.” My thumb stroked the crease that had suddenly appeared between his thick eyebrows. “I mean, do you want to?”

Roy sighed. “I don’t fucking know.” He buried his face in my neck, tickling my skin with his beard. “Everything we went through with the fucking pictures… it’d be nice to just keep it to ourselves for a bit, you know? Enjoy ourselves a bit before having everyone’s fucking opinions and comments and questions.” He tapped his nose to mine. “What d’you think?” His brown eyes were full of worry, as if I were about to run away again.

I slipped my arms around his neck. “I think I’d like to keep things quiet,” I admitted. “Let us get used to being together without the damn press making another mess of things.” I smirked. “Plus, keeping things a secret might be kind of sexy. All that sneaking around we’ll be doing,” I teased.

He laughed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Have I mentioned yet that you’re fucking perfect?”

“You could mention it again,” I purred, batting my eyelashes at him.

His smile turned mischievous. “One more for the road?” he asked, nodding towards the bedroom.

I scrambled to my feet, pulling him up with me as our now-forgotten movie continued to play. “One more for the road.”

Roy should’ve known that Monday was going to be a challenge. But shit, when she walked into her office with her bouncy ponytail and leggings, Roy thought he was going to explode. Sure, they’d spent all of Sunday night texting after he’d dropped her off at home, but after a weekend of having her in his bed (and several other places around his home), the sight of her had Roy biting back the stupidest fucking smile. If Roy wasn’t careful, he’d look just as goofy and lovesick as-

“Mornin’, Coach!”

Ted stood grinning in the doorway, holding a couple of folders. Roy couldn’t help but notice the little pink lipstick mark on Ted’s cheek.

“You see Rebecca this morning?” Roy asked with a smirk, nodding to Ted’s face.

The American’s eyes went wide as he touched his cheek. “Oh. Well, I uh….” He chuckled bashfully. “Aw heck, who’m I kidding? Yeah, I popped up to her office to say good morning and bring her some biscuits.” He let out a content sigh and leaned on the doorframe. “Just can’t believe it took us so long, y’know?” He followed Roy’s distracted gaze to the office next door; Bucky was looking at her computer, clearly trying to keep herself from looking into the Greyhounds office. “Guess maybe you do know,” Ted hummed quietly. He cleared his throat. “You do that ‘grand gesture’ yet?”

Roy cleared his throat and ripped his eyes away from her, choosing instead to narrow them at Ted. “You need something?”

“Oh, here.” Ted strolled over and handed Roy one of the folders. “Got a little scouting report for ya. Some impressive young men I think you’d be interested in.” He nodded towards the Whippets office. “Got a visit to the States next week, there’s a couple college gals I want to check out for her.”

“That’s nice,” Roy mumbled vaguely, pretending not to care, like he wasn’t excited to be talking about her. When Ted just kept staring at him, he cleared his throat. “Anything else?”

Ted wasn’t completely clueless, not really. He could see the shiftiness in Roy’s eyes, the way the manager was clearly fighting the urge to stare through the window, the tiny little tug in the corner of his mouth every time he failed. While Ted didn’t know the extent of what was going on between the two managers, he did know that the look in Roy’s brown eyes was the same look Ted knew he often had around Rebecca.

“Say, I’ve gotta run,” Ted lied. “Think you could slip this on over to the Whippets?” He handed Roy the other folder, one that had the W.F.C. Richmond logo on it. “Thanks, Roy.” Before Roy could say anything, Ted turned and walked out, humming happily to himself.

For a moment, Roy just stared at the folder. He was an adult man; he could manage himself, right? He could be professional. He was Roy fucking Kent, after all. Nodding to himself, he stood and strolled over to the Whippets office, approaching her desk calmly, determined to be the picture of professionalism-

“Good morning, darling,” he hummed in her ear, every coherent thought flying out of his mind when he caught a whiff of vanilla and lavender.

She quickly glanced over his shoulder, checking that no one could hear them. “Subtle, Kent,” she snorted. “What happened to keeping things quiet?” The sparkle in her eye assured him that she didn’t mind, not one bit.

He shrugged, dropping the folder onto her desk and perching himself on its edge. “Do I sound like a total wanker if I said you look way too fucking pretty today?”

“Only a little,” she chuckled. She bit her lip and gazed up at him. “Hi,” she whispered, gently ghosting her hand over his.

He leaned down towards her face. “Hi.”

“Roy? Hey, Roy?”

The sight of Jamie jogging into Roy’s office had the two managers retreating from their almost kiss. Rolling his eyes, Roy cleared his throat to get the striker’s attention. Jamie’s pretty face lit up when he saw the two gaffers in such close proximity.

“Good morning, Coaches,” he greeted in a far-too-sugary voice. “Roy, you feelin’ better?”

Roy frowned. “Fuck are you on about?”

Jamie wore that familiar confused pout. “On Saturday morning, you told me you were sick. Said that’s why we couldn’t train. You said you’d be in bed all weekend.”

Shit. “Oh, yeah, feeling loads better.” His face was burning as Buck held back a snicker. “We’ll train tonight, alright, Tartt?” He narrowed his eyes at the pretty manager. “See you later, Coach.”

She punched his arm playfully, smirking as he hopped off her desk. “Later, Coach.”

“Bucky, is your ankle alright?” Lucas gazed at me with concern in his eyes.

I wrinkled my nose and absently kicked at the grass with the toe of my sneaker. “Uh, yeah. I guess. Why?” I kept my gaze on the pitch, mentally working on my lineup for our next match.

He shrugged, his concern giving way to curiosity. “You’ve been limping all morning. Thought maybe you’d gotten hurt or something.”

“Have I?” I asked dumbly.

Damn, I was hoping that the slight stumble in my step wasn’t too noticeable. I knew I’d have a little bit of a hard time today; at some point over the weekend, I’d lost count of what round Roy and I were on. It was almost as if we were trying to make up for all the sex we would’ve been having if we’d just gotten together after the gala instead of dancing around our feelings. I’d woken up Monday feeling sorer than I had since retiring; the feeling had me reaching for my most comfortable shoes and leggings with a sloppy grin. Apparently my inability to walk properly was more obvious than I thought.

“How was your weekend?” he asked slowly, eyebrows raised. “Didn’t hear from you too much.”

I folded my arms. “Fine. Nothing too exciting. Just, you know, relaxed and stuff.”

“Relaxed,” he repeated with a slow nod. “Right.”

His tone was far too suspicious. “Lucas,” I murmured, finally tearing my gaze from our team. “What are you imply-”

“Coach.”

Hopefully Lucas didn’t hear my breath hitch when Roy’s fingers brushed against my back. The manager raised his eyebrows at me, quickly bringing his hand back to his side as the Greyhounds came out onto the pitch, calling out boisterous greetings as they passed us. Some of them looked especially smug when they saw Roy standing next to me. Lucas turned and blew his whistle, calling the Whippets in.

“Need something, Kent?” I did my best to keep my voice even, as though my head wasn’t swimming with the now familiar scent of Roy.

He shrugged as our teams mingled past each other. “Just wanted to check if you still wanted to go running today.” For the briefest moment, his eyes flickered down my figure until returning to my eyes. “New episode of Lust Conquers All is on tonight.” He bobbed his head, appearing significantly more casual than I felt. “Could drop you off after, before I have to meet Tartt.”

“Sounds good,” I managed before taking a step back to follow my team back inside. “Have a good practice, Coach.”

He saluted to me, wearing a smirk that I wanted to feel against my skin. “See you later.”

As Lucas and I followed the Whippets to the weight room, Lucas bumped his hip into mine. “Criminy, just call me the Invisible Man.”

I snorted. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, just that Coach Kent only has eyes for you these days,” he teased, throwing his arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure he’s got more than just eyes for you. He probably has a nice, big-”

“I will kill you,” I growled, shoving my assistant coach’s arm off me. “Seriously. You all spend months begging me and Roy to be friends, we finally are, and now you’re giving me shit about it? Not to mention all the smug looks everyone wears whenever we’re around each other.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. “I swear to God, everyone who works here is insane.”

Lucas laughed good-naturedly as we reached the training room. “Fine, fine. You and Kent are friends, neither of you is shagging the other, all is right with the world.” He nodded towards the door. “You comin’?”

I nodded and pulled my phone out of my pocket, noting the text notification on my screen. “In a sec.”

Want me to come over after training with Tartt? We can get in some more cardio ;)

It was a good thing Lucas was already focusing on training, because my face was on fire when I read Roy’s text. Biting back a grin, I quickly responded with a Sounds good Coach ;) and tucked my phone away.

When I entered the training room, Lucas raised his eyebrows at me. “And who was that?”

I shoved his shoulder with a laugh. “Fuck off.”

Yeah, hiding this whole thing was going to go well. Really fucking well.

At least sneaking around would be fun.

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#roy kent something there #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 1 year

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Celebrating Ramadan With Kalim and Jamil

Masterlist

First of all, I would like to say that all of this is incredibly self-indulgent. I know that everyone has their own traditions and ways of celebrating Ramadan but this is how my family observes this month. I would love to hear anyone else’s input.

Okay, my mother would love to meet them because they are good, respectable boys.

Every year my mother goes abaya shopping where she has to buy three different abayas (one for Eid, one for Taraweeh/Jummah prayers at the mosque and one for everyday wear) and she always gets upset because I’ve been using the same abaya for the past three years and I only get another one once my previous one has been worn down. Well, now she shall be disappointed no longer because not only would Kalim buy me three wardrobe’s worth of the most luxurious abayas known to man with the fanciest matching shawls but he also, most probably, would get her the fancy abayas as well.]

Kalim would win her heart by buying her those really luxurious hijab shawls.

Oh my god, Eid dress shopping would be a whole other monster. After finding out that I buy two dresses/outfits for Eid, he would be like ‘ha you thought’ and just pull up a thick magazine and ask my mother to point out anything and everything she wants me to have - since she’s the one that does all of the Eid shopping - and the next day I’d find a pile of readily tailored clothes in my bedroom.

A few weeks ago, my mother bought me a golden bracelet with my name written in Arabic on it and honestly part of the reason I love it is because it is exactly the kind of gift Kalim or Jamil would give me.

Iftar and Suhoor would be a feast with Kalim, Jamil and the Al-Asim wealth. Like these boys would stroll up with the rich people dates and my mother would be sold (my mum and her dad love dates).

This has nothing to do with the rest of the post but I know for a fact that the Scarabia boys would get my name right on the first try and I love them for that.

(Context: I have an Arabic/Muslim surname and I spent all my life going to a whiter-than-the-antaractic primary school that used to be a church. That place was so white that we didn’t even have proper assemblies, we had ‘service’ where the priest from down the road would come and talk about the Bible to the entire school whilst the 10-20ish Muslim kids would sit at the back of the hall and read books. So whilst I was there everyone would pronounce my last name as the way you would spell it out in english whereas the actual arabic pronunciation is different but since everyone including my teachers, the librarians, my mum and dad’s coworkers etc called me by the western pronunciation, I thought that that was what my name is. It was only after my Arabic/Quran teacher pronounced my surname in its Arabic way that my dad told me that it's the proper way of saying it. Not going to lie, it felt kind of weird knowing that I’ve been getting my own name wrong for over a decade and I still use the English pronunciation to this day)

Similarly to how Kalim would win my mum with dates and clothes, Jamil would win my mum with handmade kunafa. Trust me, my family loves kunafa.

Also, my parents love arabic tea. My mum collects tea sets and her two favourite sets are her Turkish tea glasses and silvery metallic Moroccan tea set. Jamil would see her arabic mint tea leaves and he would offer to brew it for her and it would taste like perfection, I just know it.

There was this one Ramadan where my mum got into Arabic calligraphy so she bought this big canvas and some black paint and my sister and I tore out pages from my cartridge paper pad and used my calligraphy pens and we just sat and tried to replicate the arabic calligraphy art we saw on google images whilst listening to nasheeds and I KNOW that Jamil would love to do this. Like he would come out with a masterpiece after ten minutes and then judge watch me try to make mine look half decent before trying to help me.

I don’t think Jamil would be allowed in the kitchen when my sister, mum and I prepare food for Iftar since it’s a girls only zone but if he could enter it, I know that he would be all calm and everything would be ready at least ten minutes before the adhan compared to the rat race that happens in my house where there are some days where we are laying the table like a minute before it’s time to break fast.

So the day before or two days before Eid, my mother or her friends would invite all of the ladies and their daughters for a henna party where we pay a professional to come and put henna on our arms (and sometimes feet) and we play music and sing and dance and eat sweets and it's a whole thing. Kalim would be upset that he can’t join us but he’d understand since it’s a girls only party and there will be women who want to take off their hijabs and relax but he would pay for like ten of the best henna artists he knows and order food for us and he’d be such a sweetheart like he’d be so happy when I’d show him my designs and he’d talk about how his siblings would wear henna and he used to wear it before he got tattoos.

So, my family likes to celebrate my dad’s lunar birthday since he was born during Ramadan and then, since my sister and I made a big deal of it, my parents decided that they’ll also celebrate our lunar birthdays as well - and by ‘celebrate’ I mean that my mum would order takeaway from our favourite restaurants for dinner - and I can so see this as a thing that Kalim would do only he would treat my lunar birthday as an actual birthday with cake and presents and the whole she-bang.

I kind of want to introduce Kalim to my grandma only to see his reaction to her calling my little sister ‘shaytan’ (satan/devil) as a term of endearment.

Speaking along those lines, I also have a very artistically talented friend who shares the same morbid humour as me and as a gift she made me a canvas with the words ‘Kullu nafsin thaiqatu almawti’ (Every soul shall taste death) written in arabic calligraphy that I have hung up in my bedroom and I would love to see Jamil or Kalim react to that just being one of the first things they see.

#twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader

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sutherkins · 1 year

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peter sutherland x neurodivergent!reader 💌

this is very self indulgent lmao. i tried to keep the mental stuff vague so you can hopefully imagine any mental illness in place of stuff besides the reader clearly having adhd because i have adhd. i hope anyone who reads this is able to relate and feel understood and comforted <3

warnings: mention of recreational drug use, reader is in between ages of 21-25 (i’m 23, so)

it’s not like you were opposed to telling peter about your medication. if he asked, you wouldn’t lie. you just didn’t want to be the first to bring it up. you knew you shouldn’t be ashamed of having to be on medication, and you knew he would never judge you, but you couldn’t help it.

that lasted for a couple months. your meds wore off around four or five in the afternoon and because of this, a lot of the time you got to spend with peter before he had to go to work was spent holding yourself back and trying to keep your symptoms closed off in an area he couldn’t see.

but now there was a problem. peter was somehow able to manage a couple weeks of vacation time in order to spend more time with you, real time he had always called it. he hated only getting to spend a couple hours with you each day just as much as you did, which was why he asked you to stay with him at a cabin he owned during his time away from work.

you said yes, of course. you figured he’d eventually find out during the trip, so you tried to relax at the thought of the conversation at the very least happening in a comforting environment. you’d just finished packing your bags when peter walked down the hallway of his apartment complex to your door and knocked. you smiled, you’d given him a key already so he didn’t need to knock, he came over all the time anyway. you liked that he did it anyways, always respectful of your privacy and space.

“you ready?” peter asked while grabbing your bags and walking them down to his car.

you nodded excitedly and hopped into the passenger seat, the car already full with snacks for the drive and your favorite music playing on the radio.

the two of you sat in comfortable silence until your meds started to kick in, kicking your energy into high gear and making it practically impossible for you to keep your mouth shut. you were worried he would start to get annoyed by so much chitchat but he didn’t seem to mind, intently listening to everything you had to say and responding when needed. he even laughed a couple times which was a victory in your book.

you arrived at the cabin soon after, beaming at the cabin and then at peter. “sorry for talking so much. i didn’t annoy you, did i?”

“of course not, pretty girl. it’s just your meds kicking in. nothing wrong with that. besides, i love listening to you.” he quickly grabbed the bags from his trunk and started leading you to the front door.

once you got inside you tilted your head, peter setting the bags down on the floor. “wait, how did you know i take medication?”

“i’ve seen it in your bathroom cabinet. ‘take one every morning’.” he quotes the label that’s printed on the bottle. “it’s for adhd, right?”

your face scrunched, “well, yes. i never outright told you so i just assumed you didn’t know. you don’t mind?”

peter grabbed your hand and led you to the couch in the living room, silently telling you to get comfortable while he got a fire started. “why would i mind? there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“no, i know. i mean, i know you know that too. my brain just…likes to lie to me sometimes. im guessing this also means you saw the other meds i take, then?” sighing, you squeezed his hand in need of reassurance.

“yeah. and just to repeat myself, there’s still nothing wrong with you or taking medication. whether it’s for adhd, anxiety, depression, insomnia… anything really. it doesn’t change the way i see you and it never has.” peter squeezed your hand in response, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

cheeks quickly turning red, you groaned and leaned your head onto his shoulder, hiding your face behind your hands.

he was having none of it, moving your hands and replacing them with his own, cupping your cheeks. “hey, hey, hey…none of that. you don’t need to hide with me.”

“i know, i know. i just need reminding sometimes.” smiling softly, you gazed at his loving expression, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth on your skin.

“i’m happy to do it.” moments pass before you hear peters voice again, now wavering from trying not to laugh. “im happy to try some of those edibles you have too. i saw you packed ‘em in your bag. did you really think i wouldn’t notice you getting high?”

“peter!” you poked his side until he fell backwards laying on the couch, your legs straddling his hips. “it’s for my anxiety. and for fun.” his hands immediately shift to rest on your waist, grinning up at you. “i think i’m a bad influence on you.”

he snorts. “oh, definitely. i kinda like it though.”

#peter sutherland x reader #peter sutherland x you #peter sutherland #peter sutherland fanfiction #peter sutherland fanfic #peter sutherland fluff #the night agent fanfiction #the night agent #the night agent fanfic #reader insert #gabriel basso #i have adhd and need to be comforted and cuddled by peter sutherland so here u go

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 13 days

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oh my goodness :D hi hi hi!!!! i lit just found your blog and saw you do ships which is like soooo cute omgggg!!! soooo… i was wondering if i could get a match up too? 🤭

anywayyyysss, my name is Lalia! i’m 15 and turning 16 in september. I go by she/her and i’m pansexual. I am of south east asian and white descent (happy aapi month wooo!!!) here are some other physical attributes: 5’3ft tall and slim; i have short black hair (but i’m gonna dye it red over the summer); i have big eyes that are dark brown; and i never go outside so im pretty pale😭

my personality on the other hand is not as easy to describe as my appearance… ive taken a lot of personality tests that often describe me as: introverted, listening, creative, logical, thoughtful, determined, daydreaming, and melancholic. i don’t think that my personality is good or bad; in fact, i think that i am a true neutral. I also feel things very deeply, which has led me to be in situations where my feelings get out of control causing something bad to happen (like me ending up in the hospital and psych ward💀). BUT IM OKAY!!! i have anxiety medication and go to therapy lollll. But even though i keep to myself, i still like to talk to people and do things like acting, singing, dancing, and just performing in general!!! i actually love love LOVE to sing and play my guitars sm<33 but some of my other hobbies include writing books or poetry by myself or reading and drawing :3 i do believe that i am confident/ bold but i also tend to be pretty shy around people i don’t know. maybe cuz in middle school i was bullied a lot??? 😭 but i feel like that experience helped me to gain a lot of empathy for people who don’t fit in either,, so i always try my best to always be kind and stick up for people!! But yeah, im really excited for summer cuz i hate school and i never try but i still get all A’s :D

ERM ANYWAYS… idk why im yapping sm SORRYYYYY and TYSM FOR DOING THIS i hope you have a good day/night!! <3

Happy aapi month! Also about being in the psych ward or the hospital, I just wanna let you know that it has a lot of really nasty stereotypes and people who go to psych wards are honestly just cool because they care about their mental health and the fact that you found help and made yourself go or you know, even just didn’t refuse to go I’m really proud of you because it means that you’re taking care of the beautiful person that you are so Never be ashamed or let anyone call you crazy for any up in a psych ward or hospital because it just means that you were prioritizing you and for that it just means that you are very self-aware and I love you Pookie. I love you for prioritizing your mental health.

Your Outsiders Ship: Ponyboy Curtis!

Explanation: I think he loves your short black hair and your eyes and think that it’s adorable that you’re so pale from never going outside. I personally think that he’s more on the tan side because I think he spends a lot of time outside but I think the contrast between you guys would be pretty hilarious. you seem like the type of girl that he would be very interested in in the fact that you are very thoughtful. Kind of more quiet. I think that you remind him of kind of a more academically based or you know deep thinking Johnny like that’s kind of the vibes I’m getting from you and I think that he would absolutely be in love with that. He usually take things from a logical standpoint and less emotionally so he would absolutely get that and I feel like you guys would have really deep meaningful productive conversations with each other that are interesting. Like I feel like you guys could be putting in room and you would never get bored of talking to each other because you would just be so invested in your conversation and you guys would have pretty good banter too. He also feels things incredibly deeply so I feel like you know he’s the most “” sensitive greaser so I think he would really get that and kind of you guys would get each other away that really no one else in the time period Can understand. He loves it when you sing and dance and thinks it’s pretty amusing he would definitely go to all of your shows and you really loudly or at least really loudly and I feel like he would be so proud afterwards and walk you home with the biggest grin on his face and he would also help you with acting. I don’t know why but I think he’s a surprisingly good actor. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s pretty good at character and analysis but I think that he’s a great actor and could help you out with your performances. He’s also into reading drawing and writing so I feel like that’s something that you guys could do together something kind of cute like you guys can make a little comic together or something like that and reading and music dates. You would absolutely have a lot of. he’s kind of similar in the fact where he doesn’t really love school, but he does get all A’s because he doesn’t want to disappoint his brother anyway you guys are cute and honestly, I didn’t have to think very hard about this because you guys are so similar, and I think you guys would be great for each other, you guys also have a habit of both always always standing up for the underdog and things like that so I think you guys could relate in that aspect of having similar kind of morals and values. 💚💚

#urlocalnonbinarybastardwritesanswers #the outsiders #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #ponyboy curtis

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mcflymemes · 1 year

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THE INVISIBLE LIFE OF ADDIE LARUE PROMPTS * assorted quotes from the book by v.e. schwab

books are a way to live a thousand lives, or to find strength in a very long one.

i simply want to be the one who breaks you.

this is how you walk to the end of the world.

dine with me.

was it real to you?

we can't help who we fall in love with.

the more you study, the less you believe in any of it.

time moves so fast.

you are not capable of love.

life always ends too soon.

in the end, everyone wants to be remembered.

were the instants of joy worth the stretches of sorrow?

i didn't think we were serious.

you have no desire to practice.

if you loved me, you would have let me go by now.

you don't know what you'll find until you step outside.

this is how you live forever.

the vexing thing about time is that it's never enough.

how can a thing not be real if it cannot be remembered?

stories are a way to preserve one's self.

love is hungry. love is selfish.

i loved that about them.

everyone else is a mile down the road.

what is a person, if not the marks they leave behind?

i remember you.

take your echoes and pretend they are a voice.

you're such a good friend.

it's easy to stay on the path when the road is straight and the steps are numbered.

i do not want to belong to someone else.

do not mistake this kindness.

take my life when i'm done with it.

time always ends a second before you're ready.

being forgotten is a bit like going mad.

dance with me.

tell me. was any of it real?

you better live a good life.

i just don't see us ending up together.

march is such a fickle month.

it does not seem such a bad word.

i was the night itself.

i am so tired of not having choices.

humans are so ill-equipped for peace.

what could i have done?

you've gotten lost.

cling to every moment until it's gone.

it's not you.

you deserve better.

it's just a storm.

you can have my soul when i don't want it anymore.

i do not want to belong to anyone but myself.

i am stronger than your god and older than your devil.

they say people are like snowflakes, each one unique.

nothing is all good or all bad.

you cannot leave a mark.

i would have lost my mind.

take a drink every time you hear you're not enough.

there is defiance in being a dreamer.

life can feel very long sometimes, but in the end, it goes so fast.

i don't want to lose you.

i set the pieces, and i choose when to play.

we're not on the same page.

blink, and the years fall away like leaves.

life is so much messier than that.

the greatest danger in change is letting the new replace the old.

it's amazing what you can learn when you have the time.

there's just something missing.

be with me.

never pray to the gods that answer after dark.

were the moments of beauty worth the year of pain?

let's stay friends.

i met someone.

it was just so... permanent.

you didn't come.

live long enough, and you learn how to read a person.

if you only walk in other people's steps, you cannot make your own way.

listen to me.

you didn't call.

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sonny-whorezik · 4 months

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haiii ... like a week short of a month since i left everything.... i just wanted to use as Journal and catch up before i do Fully return to social media, gettin rid of the app after this post yet again:

has . been . rough. grief has been consistent the last month from my best friend and now ex leaving me, losing that new job due to being physically sick from grief and being unemployed an additional month, my best best friend my dog, sage, passed away last friday and although i left to drive to kansas i just didn't make it in time. She has wind chimes over her grave and passed listening to the sound of the wind chime my great grandma left for me. two days after her passing marked the First Full Year since my grandpa passed away, i had a dream the night before where we drove around looking at christmas lights with people no longer in my life and he just looked so so sad. i am consistently physically alone; i facetime a couple friends but i go outside alone, sleep/wake up alone, eat alone, this has been going on since i left arizona in november Most of my time is spent completely alone.

ive tried new habits. i meditate and stretch in the morning and night. i read a page a day of a stoicism book my dad got me last year with a propeller hat. i see a therapist weekly, wake up earlier, even floss now. The complete back to back to back grief has left me no choice but to just Do Something. while i would Love to share something with someone its best i reserve it to myself, yet here i am vacantly sharing my last month to who knows who...

my friend invited me to see stop making sense last night in a farther town, showed the original film not the remastered and general admission was all standing and everyone acted as if it was a real concert dancing and singing. this was my 6th time seeing it in a theater. did not cry once yet celebrated the experience i have had and although i will never have anything quite like i did with someone quite like them, at least i had it for a good portion of my life. had to devote this must be the place to myself, foreign. to be completely transparent, i do miss them every day. i do not cry like i used to, i dont let myself get consumed by thought and feeling, ive grown more desensitized as time has passed, but i still miss them of course. i consistently see things that remind me of them even when theyre not on my mind and when sage died i wanted to reach out so terribly; reminisce of the fort we built where she slept with us and i had no one to talk to but my mom who was with her til the end. i didnt. i havent reached out. it is not my place given they were the one to leave i just will not keep reaching out and chasing someone who sounded so blatantly apathetic on our last phone call. i tell myself it was just a form of self preservation to them but yknow. like. that's it, i have no choice but to experience grief with self compassion and continue on, wherever that goes.

i may be starting TMS treatment , having magnets zap my brain 5 days a week, 6 weeks. i see a cardiologist on the 30th since my chest frequently hurts and both ekgs have concerns in the pause between beats. my pulse at resting is consistently around 120 yet my blood pressure is fine; who knows. well i guess ill know actually in 10 days. im finishing a vape, got a full pack of cigarettes ive yet to touch yet plan to quit smoking here soon in hopes it helps. maybe after my pack to eliminate temptation yet not waste my money... i bought it an hour before sage passed. i barely drink coffee and dont use energy drinks anymore i do what i can for my heart now.

atticus still sleeps with me, most nights. sometimes he wanders the living room when i cant sleep. im almost halfway through galapagos. i washed my sheets for the first time since buying them in august. im very much alone and this is all fine i tell myself. the stoicism has encouraged me to alter my perspective on things more rationally as opposed to the wired self deprecating and depression-based "take everything personally" thought processes ive had for 18 years. im on my phone significantly less and i even wrote a piece on piano i may share after this post. ive been transposing it to cello, my grandma requested.

i have no interest in perusing anyone anytime soon still, whether its still too early or what i think i do just Need to do these things alone for a while. ive never found sole stability in others, i learned this at 6 with my dad, yet while outside aid would help, it is not a requirement to live however. forgive me for how long this is and for leaving once again there are a few of you i used to talk to daily and now ive just got a few contacts in my phone.

despite chronic mental illness, mourning, loneliness, you name it, ive never taken this approach before. i will typically have a suicide attempt yet here i am doing a pancake stretch and ommm-ing every morning. i keep as busy as i can, today i went through every single thing i own to sort donations and the day before i deep cleaned. there is a box wrapped in a blanket of some of the things that remind me of them. i went through it today and brought out some things like the books theyve given me, it doesnt hurt as much anymore to remember. im donating the mugs i never gave them and the one theyd use at my house when theyd come over. all their letters havent been reread yet sit in between the photo of us in the cave. it was nice to see. i am so honored they let me, of all people, share these experiences with them. i am more thankful it happened then miserable itll never happen again; at least i had it for a while. i say this yet if a year passes and i hear from them, i would love to reconnect: hear how their life has been, what they've been doing, how their family is and if they are doing better. if this has helped. while for 6 years i believed they were really it for me, whether we ever dated or not ive always considered them the only one who Really Knew who i was, how i worked, you name it. although im "moving on" by taking care of myself more, it is upsetting to admit if i ever have a chance again, id take it in a heartbeat. i say this yet still believe Even if i do never get a chance, that's okay too. While i would, i dont anticipate it, rely on it, sit in denial "theyll surely come back," its alright if they never do. i live each day as if they never will yet to my core do know that i would try again

a knee ways .. i hope you, whoever reads, is doing okay, that you feel alright and what not. you dont have to feel good every day, but at the least alright i hope ... not sure if/when ill come back maybe just once a month im unsure yet .was just in a solid enough state to do this for a moment . wish you all well ,

#story

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