#also does anyone do this thing where they try to avoid using the same word?

[satoblue]

he is so “buy” with work and ppl really reposted that w/o telling me LMFAO 💀💀💀

[fairestwriting]

Hi, I just found your blog and saw requests are open.

Can I request Riddle, Ruggie and Rook with a reader who avoids using their names (instead using nicknames, last names, "hey you", etc) and their reactions when they discover it's because she has trouble saying words that start with "R" and is self conscious about it?

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

He’s kind of conflicted about it, but not because he immediately clocks it as a strange thing, and that makes him see you as a strange person, or anything like that— No, it has nothing to do with his opinion. But it does have everything to do with Heartslabyul’s mile long list of rules, many of which mention things of etiquette and behavior. Many of which are also very similar, making it so that even Riddle, who’s memorized them, has trouble telling them apart.

Greeting someone and not using their name, isn’t there some rule somewhere that warns against that? He’s pretty sure he’s seen one, maybe, probably… Riddle goes over them in his mind while he’s talking to you, and he almost commits to spacing out, or maybe he almost remembers whatever he was trying to search for in his mind. But his attention is completely taken by the fact that, well… you’re just a really polite, nice person. Going out of your way to have a conversation with him and everything.

…So he can overlook that minor slight, then. Of course. And as time goes on, Riddle genuinely just stops noticing it. Unintentionally, he’s actually a much more accommodating person than he seems. He subconsciously assumes that’s just how you talk to people, and you were so perfectly polite and nice otherwise, he just starts to tune it out. But then, he realizes you do refer to others by their name— You do it with Ace, then with Deuce, one afternoon where the three of you are in the Heartslabyul dorm sipping tea. So Riddle, trying his best and secretly delighted at having a new person to talk to… starts to wonder if you just had some kind of issue with him. And that thought makes him anxious.

It takes him a while of mulling over it to get the courage to ask you. ”Why do you not… use my name?” Genuinely thinking you might have an issue with him or something like it, the poor guy. You’re embarrassed to admit you actually just didn’t want to mess up his name, since you had a speech impediment and all that— And before you could really launch into explaining yourself, you’re stopped by the sight of the tension so visibly dropping from his body, while at the same time, he awkwardly apologizes for the misunderstanding. ”I m-mean, I thought it was…” His face is all red from embarrassment, he shakes his head. ”Ahem… you could’ve just told me that sooner. I wouldn’t judge you for something like that. And if anyone in this dorm dares to, it’ll be off with their head.”

𐙚 Ruggie Bucchi

Doesn’t even bat an eye. ”Hey you” is probably more of a familiar greeting to him than ”Hey Ruggie”, he likes how casual it feels. It’s a little homey even. He returns it with a grin, chiming “Hey yourself!” before he hops onto the seat next to yours. The only opinion he forms from this first impression is that you seem friendly and fun to talk to. In a laid back sort of way even, kind of like himself. And well, he’s happy about that. He thinks you two will get along great.

Ruggie really just won’t think about it unless you specifically bring it up. There’s a limit to how many R sounds you can avoid in conversation before he notices you talk a little differently, sure. But even the way you hesitate for a bit before saying certain words — when you’re trying to think of a substitute — just registers as a quirk of yours. You know, everyone has those little things that make them speak differently from others.

Eventually, it kind of slips, while you’re right in the middle of a conversation with him too. You wince, your entire face feeling hot, and apologize. Ruggie blinks, and asks you what for. You’re left staring at each other, you might even question if he’s actually making fun of you—

”Oh, you say your Rs different. Kinda sounds like a guy I know from my Potions class.” He realizes eventually, and cracks a smile as he points it out. Not really the most tactful way to go about it, sure… he’ll genuinely apologize if that makes you feel uncomfortable, it’s not really his intention. It’s just that it’s so not a big deal to him, it kind of slips his mind that it might be a sore spot for some people. He prompts you to continue talking anyway, and you might try to explain yourself or something like it, your own self-consciousness pressuring you— But even if you’re embarrassed by the whole thing, Ruggie just continues to smile, relaxed as ever. ”Nah, really, keep talking. Why’d I mind that? It’s just how you speak, shishi.”

𐙚 Rook Hunt

Rook notices and takes note of it, going as far as to file it away in his mind— But he also does with every single other quirk in every single interesting person he meets. It’s not something that he doesn’t see, but it’s also not something he’s going to be thinking about that much. At least while he doesn’t know much more about you, his mind couldn’t be further away from hyperfixating in such a small detail. He just wants to get to know you better, because you’re interesting, because there’s a certain type of beauty to you, unrelated but not entirely to your speech — Of course, since that’s an important part of anyone’s selfhood.

And when it comes to interesting people he knows, Rook likes to listen to them as they talk… so it won’t be too long until he notices there’s a little bit of an unusual feel to your speech. You seem to circumvent saying certain words, and his own name is included in that list. He wonders why. The look you get on your face feels like it hints at it being more than just the way you talk.

Honestly, he probably will just realize what’s going on sooner or later. Maybe sooner than later. There’s a ton of other reasons why he finds you interesting, the speech thing is just a detail in a massive picture, and Rook is all about noticing details. Even if you avoid pronouncing any word with an R sound in it at all, after some time, he’s just estimated that you pronounce them differently by listening to how you say other words. And he won’t say a thing about it, though if you did ask what he thought about it, he’d probably say it’s just part of your own unique type of beautiful, or something like that.

He won’t really react at all if you “slip up”, or even if you decide to be upfront with him about it. “Non, Mademoiselle, there is no need for all that. I’d love to hear the rest of what you have to say, regardless of how it’s said.” He smiles at you, from ear to ear, that very Rook-like knowing smile that lets you know there’s no element of surprise to him in this. It might feel embarrassing at first, suddenly being aware that he’s just… known, for this whole time. And like Ruggie, he’ll apologize if his words come across as insensitive in any way, of course, the last thing he wants is for you to feel bad about yourself in any way! He definitely won’t hold back on reassuring you that the way you speak is not and will never be something he sees as bad or embarrassing, about how it’s beautiful in its own way, you know how it goes—It’s Rook. He does, however, really want to hear you say his name now that his theory is confirmed… but that’s just his curiosity, and he won’t pressure you to do it, of course.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[gettingyourselfwetforme]

We talk all the time

.

loosely based off of the song “we talk all the time” by the japanese house <3

warnings: talk of depression, use of antidepressants, therapy talk, angsty as fuck

wc: 1.6k

.

“I think we need to talk.”

It was a phrase so simple, yet one that could make anyone squirm. The words carried such uncertainty of what needed to be discussed, leaving one’s mind to sift through what it could possibly be.

y/n knew what they needed to talk about though.

It had been going on for months. The subject was sore between them- a subject once so freely talked about in their relationship became something so touchy and intense.

Harry stood at the doorway of their bedroom, his hands in his sweatpant pockets, upper body clad with a knit jumper her mum had made him last Christmas. His face showed a look of anxiety, and his teeth pulled his bottom lip into his mouth.

y/n had a feeling this conversation would arise sooner than later. She didn’t want to talk about it, and neither did he, but their couples’ therapist suggested that they should try to have a conversation about it. It made bile rise in her throat and her stomach twist.

y/n hummed, and closed her book. “I think we should finally talk about it.” her heart was pounding in her chest, eyes reaching her husbands’ face. His eyes were dark, bags underneath as if he hadn’t slept.

He lets out a shaky sigh, before walking over to their shared bed, and taking a seat in front of her. Her back was against the headboard, legs crisscrossed and glasses on.

“Why don’t we have sex anymore?” Harry asks. He was picking at the lint from the duvet, avoiding eye contact with y/n. It wasn’t a simple question. It was months upon months of building, multiple layers to peel back to get to the root of the problem.

y/n spins her rings around her fingers, also avoiding eye contact with her lover. She knows why, but she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. It’s so many things for her.

“It’s… a lot.” y/n takes a deep breath in, before exhaling and finally making eye contact with Harry. “I don’t want you to think you’re doing anything wrong. You’re not.” She reassures.

Harry inhales sharply, a small gesture he does when he tries not to get upset. “Please, y/n.” His hand pulls his lip between his fingers before he continues. “We don’t touch anymore. We don’t fuck anymore. It’s hard for me not to feel like it’s my fault. Even when you say it isn’t, it still gets in my head that im being a bad lover.”

y/n nods, understanding every single word. She knows she should have brought it up sooner. Not let him get in his feelings about it by pushing it off.

Her depression was bad- he knew that. Months ago, there were weeks where she couldn’t get out of bed. Many days where she would opt to work from home. Days where she felt like with one minor inconvenience, she would just fall apart.

That day came. She had dropped a dish onto the ground, one of her favorites, and she just felt as if her world had crumbled down around her. She was inconsolable- sitting on the floor surrounded by broken glass, feeling every single emotion that had been pushed back. Harry had found her after hearing the crash, palms cut from the shards of glass, eyes swollen and glassy.

After that night, Harry had encouraged her to start therapy again. She obliged, and she slowly had started to build back up to being a human again. She was going to the office, taking walks, and seeing her friends.

Their marriage had grown stronger, and their sex life was amazing. They were trying new things all of the time, fucking all the time, and keeping things exciting. It felt good to let go again.

It was fun, until it wasn’t.

When he noticed that her energy had started to drop again, and that she was showing some of the same symptoms as the last time her depression got bad, he brought it up to their therapist in a mutual session. y/n didn’t recognize it herself, but she’s glad that he was able to recognize it before it got too bad again.

Their therapist had brought up the idea of starting medication, to which y/n was completely opposed. She never wanted it to get to that point. She didn’t want to become dependent on any medication to make her feel good.

Harry had to talked to her about it, to tell her that of course, it was up to her, but that it really could be something that helped her out. Harry had a way of talking her into things, because next thing she knew, she was picking up the pills from their pharmacy.

Within weeks, she was feeling better. She was back to going to the office, and being social. She felt good! She was glad that she had taken Harry’s advice.

The only thing that didn’t get better was their sex life.

He would try to instigate sex with her often, only to be met with a small ‘uh, maybe later. I’m not feeling it right now.’ 90% of the time. The other 10%? It was usually just her giving him a blowie and then insisting they just head to bed.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to have sex. It was that she couldn’t enjoy it. No matter how much foreplay they did, she was just… dry. He’d be eating her out, making an attempt to put his fingers in her, only for y/n to make an uncomfortable noise at the feeling of him trying to press into her dry hole.

They had tried lube, which worked well! It worked well, and the sex felt good. The sex felt good, and she was able to enjoy being intimate with Harry again. That was, until even thirty minutes after he had finished inside of her, and gone down on her cunt- she still hadn’t orgasmed.

Harry always wanted to make her orgasm. It got him off to get her off. He was diligent with his mouth, always able to bring her to release within minutes. Instead of being honest with him, she made the poor decision to fake her orgasm.

Since then, they haven’t had sex. At all. It’s been almost three months. When she brought up the fact that she couldn’t cum to her therapist, she was met with nothing but a ‘yep… that’s antidepressants for you.’

So now, it’s time to just bite the bullet and tell him the truth.

She bites her lip, eyes making contact with Harry’s. “I know it’s been awhile. It’s been a long time since we have been intimate, and I really do want to tell you that it isn’t something you’ve done, at all. I… I haven’t been, well, I guess, like,” she tries to find her words, Harry’s face softening and his gaze warm. “I haven’t been able to orgasm, and it… makes me really self-conscious.”

She makes no effort to stop the words from continuing to flow out of her mouth. “You know we had that problem with me not getting wet, and I was so glad we had solved it, because I finally was being close with you. It felt good, but, there was no build up, no pressure in my belly, nothing.” She takes a moment to gauge his reaction.

He was confused. He always could make her orgasm. He knew all the tricks, all of the spots that sent her mind reeling.

“Is it, like, you’re not, enjoying it? Is it boring?” He questions. Instantly, y/n shakes her head, placing her hand over his, rubbing her thumb over his wedding band.

“No, not at all. I love everything we do together. Our sex could never be boring. I think, I think it has something to do with the meds the psychiatrist put me on.” She reassures him. His face was no longer contorted in confusion, but rather fallen with upset.

His mind is trying to process the information. Why did she keep this from him? He’s her husband. They never keep things from eachother, especially things like this.

“Why did you keep it from me? We’re- we’re a team, baby. It’s us together. I know you’re self-conscious about it, but when you tell me, It’s something we can work on, me and you, together. Whether it’s changing your medication, anything. Baby, I love you. You can’t keep something like this from me.” Harry’s eyes are teary, looking into y/n’s with nothing but love and affection for his wife.

y/n lets a shaky breath out, an attempt to push back her tears. “I know, i shouldn’t have kept quiet about it for so long. I should have talked to you. I’m sorry. I wish I could go back, and tell you the moment it happened.” She’s rambling, something she does when she’s about to cry, along with her voice cracking near the end.

As if it were the only thing she could do, she leans forward, face falling directly into Harry’s lap. The tears begin, regret filling every one of them. Her chest heaves, a broken sob filling the air around them.

Harry hates to see her cry. She isn’t a crier usually, which makes it just that much more heartbreaking to watch. His hand moves to her head, scratching her scalp lightly, in a motion to calm her down.

“It’s okay baby. We’ll work on it, okay? We’ll work on this together. Harry and y/n. We’ll get through it.”

.

a little angsty one for yall! sorry there’s no smut :(

taglist: @angeldavis777

lmk if you wanna be on the tag list! <3

[taehyungsgrowl]

i missed u - myg x reader

ex boyfriend yoongi...

lately @desertsunflower00 and i have not been able to shut up about an ex boyfriend!yoongi au so here i am trying to bring it to life :')

please be nice! i haven't written (for fun!) in about a year, but it's been encouraged by my therapist so here we are!

not proofread!

pairings: yoongi x y/n

warnings: feelings + avoiding feelings, exes, angst, smut (sex, making out, dry humping, hickies, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism (sorta?)

word count: 3,000

(also noteworthy: when I started this I didn't think it would be angsty, but it got away from me lol. definitely have an alternate ending in my drafts w a not as happy ending lol but I did my best to give these idiots hope in this one)

Yoongi noticed the goosebumps on your arm caused by the cool air blowing from his car. Without a second thought he adjusted the temperature to make it more comfortable for you.

He also noticed the way your eyes glanced from his face, to the hands gripping the steering wheel, and the back up to his face. With that he couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.

That was the thing about Yoongi. He noticed everything about you. Even after breaking up with him he wasn't able to erase the way he responded to you - or the way he knew you.

You sighed, forcing your eyes off of him and back on the road ahead of you. The pink sky was slowly deepening into dark shades of indigo and violet. Your heart squeezed in your chest thinking of the way things had happened with Yoongi.

"I thought I was supposed to be the quiet one," he looked over at you, soft smile on his face. Your leg continued to bounce in nervousness.

"I'm just thinking," you hope that would satisfy him enough, but just as well of Yoongi knew you - you knew him.

You knew Yoongi probably better than you knew anyone else. Yourself included some may argue.

"Hm," he hummed unimpressed with your response. "Do you want me to take you back home? If you don't want to -"

"No!" you cut him off, looking back over at him. "I want this. I missed you," you admitted. You felt your face warm and you hoped Yoongi didn't notice the nervousness coming from you.

But of course he did.

His eyes met yours for what felt like an entire minute. A million things unsaid in his gaze.

A million things you weren't sure if you were ready to hear.

But he knew that.

Instead of saying all the things he wished he could, he let out a breath he had been holding and steered the car in a different direction.

You knew the way to his house - which is where you thought you were headed - but this wasn't it.

"Where are we going?" you question, watching the tall trees as you pass by.

"We need to talk - really talk," he looked at you when he emphasized the words, "and I can't do that if I'm driving so," he points his chin forward, showing you were approaching the lake nearby. "We're making a pit stop," he smiled your favorite smile. The smile that made his eyes crinkle and his gums show proudly.

He stopped the car after parking it to perfectly face the waterfront. The remaining sun shimmered off the water. Families at the playground were packing up their things and loading their kids in minivans.

"Really talk?" you shift in your seat to face him. "What does that mean?"

"Well," he slowly reached forward and used the knuckle of his index to lift your chin to meet his deep gaze. "When you texted me earlier and said you missed me and wanted to see me..." he let the question hang in the air for a moment, taking in every detail of your face.

"What did that mean?" he finished his sentence.

Was he regretting this? You shouldn't have reached out. Maybe you should have listened to the little voice in your head - he didn't want the same thing you did.

"I do miss you and I wanted to see you." you scanned his face for any sign that he didn't actually want this as much as you.

"Right," he nodded, "But since you got in my car you've acted like I'm some stranger," he chuckled, "It's just me, Y/N."

"Did you miss me?" the question leaves your lips before you can even think to stop it.

"I don't think I'll ever stop." he spoke the words with such reverent force it makes your heart still for a second.

It's your turn to nod - agreeing with all the unspoken words between you.

With as small as the interior of his car is, you still feel him too far away. He's less than a foot away and yet the small distance feels miles long.

"I don't think much has changed," you admit - your mind racing at all the possibilities if you were to try again with Yoongi. Would it even work? Why was your mind already there? You were here with him now. Just... catching up.

"Well, my hairs gotten longer," he joked trying to ease you. He tugs at his new length. His dark looked so inviting at this length. You fought the urge to reach across and card your fingers through it.

Thick dark hair, slightly curing inward at the nape of his neck. It was probably long enough to pull up into a little bun if he wanted.

"I like it," and the urge won - your hand reaches over and caress his locks.

Yoongi halts - letting you touch him. It was the first time you've touched him since you walked away from him over a month ago.

Had it only been a month? Being without him for that long had felt so much longer.

Yoongi grabbed your wrist before you can pull your hand away from him and brings it up to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles.

"You know we don't have to have any answers right now..." he slowly lowered your hand, but continued to hold it - intertwining his fingers with yours. That brought back so many memories.

Locking hands under blankets during movie nights. Secret hand holding under dinner tables. His hand firmly guiding you through crowded streets.

His hands intertwined with yours while his face was buried between your legs.

"I just mean..." his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand in the most soothing pattern, "Let's take it one step at a time okay. This doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to mean."

"Okay," you sigh trying to relax against his leather seat. It was what you wanted to hear, right? It didn't have to mean anything. It could just be.

It could just be you and him.

No expectations. No promises. Just now.

You let out a deep breath again, looking down at his hand holding yours.

"Does that mean we can go to your place now. To do something other than talk..."

That makes him fill the car with the sweet sound of his laughter. Low, raspy, laughter that sends a message right to your core.

You can't help but adoringly roll your eyes at his response. That eye roll made him know you felt more comfortable than when he picked you up. He could almost feel the bleak tension dissolve and be replaced with a different type of tension.

The type of tension that made him stir in his seat.

Yoongi reaches over to cup your face, pulling you in closer. Gently closing the space between you both. Seconds before he presses his lips to yours, his eyes look into yours again wanting to give you all the answers you wanted.

And with that, his pink lips pressed against yours. Gently at first. Testing the waters, kissing you so softly it almost pained you.

And then he does it again, but this time with so much more force. His kiss makes you gasp against his mouth - his lips taking claim over yours. His silky tongue traced your lips until your tongue met his.

All too soon he pulled away. His cheeks were stained pink and his lips were puffy from the force of your kiss. Yoongi's eyes held a devilish glint in them as he pulled back - knowing he left you wanting more.

"I don't think I can make it all the way back home now," he glanced down at the hardening bulge in his black jeans. You could barely make it out now that the sun had set.

The street lamp beside Yoongi's car set a soft glow to everything. The deep waters now a deep shade of black, reflected back the moons radiance.

You glanced around the lake and take in the stillness of it all. The quiet chirp of crickets somewhere in the grassy sedges. The low hum of Yoongi's engine. His soft breath fanning your face. His fingertips tenderly brushing over your lips.

You placed your hand on his crotch feeling him hardening under his jeans.

"Yoongi," your voice came out whiner than you expected. It was also the first time he heard you call his name since things ended. That did something to him he didn't quite know how to describe. But he swore he felt his heart (and his cock) grow three times in size.

"I want you so bad." The soft lighting pouring into the car made his smooth skin appear even clearer and glassier. You wanted to press your lips all over his face. Cover him in berry stained lipstick marks.

He nodded his head slightly pulling away from you to be able to shift the car into reverse. Before he could place his hand on the gear, you wrapped yours around his wrist, shaking your head 'no.'

"Here," you bit your lower lip, glancing out at the empty lake. "No one's here. No one's gonna see us," you urge, bringing his hand to your thigh.

Before he can say another word, you press your lips to his, mumbling an almost incoherent, "I can't wait," against his mouth.

"Fuck," Yoongi groaned into the kiss. "Want you too, baby."

Yoongi doesn't mean for the word to slip out, but it does.

It is messy and a little clumsy - much like how your relationship had been. But it's also what makes you and Yoongi so special to each other. There was no need for pretenses of perfection.

He scooted his seat back giving you enough room to climb over the console and into the safety of his lap. His large hands found their home along your lower back; they slipped themselves into your shirt, feeling your smooth skin all the way up to your bra strap and then back down, gripping your hips. "Y/N," he sighed, into your mouth as you grind your hips down on him.

"Let's get these off." he reached into your skirt to find your soaked panties. His long fingers traced along the wet patch you've left on them from grinding on his lap. "So wet," he mumbled almost to himself.

Lifting your hips to help him, he expertly slid them down your legs, helping you get them off. He tossed them aside before placing you back down on his lap, the steering wheel pressing into your back while he slid his hand up your thigh. Dragging each finger over the smooth surface until he was met with your wet folds. "I need to fuck you," he choked out and smashed your lips with an urgent kiss.

You let him fumble with his pants until he is able to free his leaking cock. You wished there were more light in the dim car to be able to indulge in seeing it again. The thick veins along the flushed pink shaft, the prominent head, now leaking with precum. You wanted to take it all in.

Yoongi grabbed his length in his hand guiding you as you align yourself with him. He stroke his cock along your pussy, teasingly tapping it against your clit a couple of times.

"Yoongi, please," you whined at the sudden contact, "I need you,"

"I know, baby," he shushed you, pulling you in for another kiss. He caught your lower lip between his teeth, tugging on it gently before slipping his tongue in your mouth. He grabbed your hips and pulled you in closer and you slowly sank down on his aching cock.

You winced at the stretch of his head pushing inside of you. Your arms grabbed on to the headrest behind his head and gripped it tightly as his cock stretched you open.

"Fuck," the word slipped out of your lips against his hot mouth as you felt the fullness of having his cock inside you again.

"You okay?" Yoongi pulled back and scanned your face.

"Mhm," you nodded your head. "It's just so... big," you let out a weak chuckle.

He rubbed circles along your back until his hands found their way to grip your ass.

You began to lift your hips and rocked your body on him. His large hands caught your movements as you ground yourself down on his length. Slowly at first, but quickly picking up momentum you started to ride him.

Completely feeling lost in the bliss of having so close - a part of you wished the skin of your chest could touch his. Everywhere he touched you felt like a familiar flame licking away at the time spent apart.

Like he wanted his hands to erase every minute he spent away from you.

He found his way further into your shirt, cupping your breasts in his hold. His thumbs finding your erect nipples as you bounced up and down his shaft.

The sounds of the chirping crickets and low hum of his engine - sounds that felt so loud in the stillness of the evening were now drowned out by something much more titillating.

Your breathy moans and his low groans were creating a symphony of pleasure - in that moment he swore he'd write a song someday about just how good it felt to have you in his embrace.

"Yoongi," you choked out, your legs trembled beneath you.

"Let me hear you, baby," he said into your ear, peppering sweet, wet kisses along your neck. "Who's making you feel this good?"

"You..." you tilted your head back providing more access to your neck. He sank his teeth into your skin, making you hiss in pleasure.

"You... you're making me feel so good. No one else..." you babbled as he sucked on the most delicate part of your neck.

The spot on your neck that made your thighs squeeze together - but he knew that. He knew every spot that made your heart race.

"No one else, hm?" that smug smile spread across his face again. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off of him.

He noticed your hands gripping the back of his headrest and frowned. He grabbed your wrist and placed your hands in his hair. His eyes silently begged and you complied.

You tangled your fingers in his dark locks and tugged at the root of his long hair as you chased your orgasm.

Yoongi's moan mixed with yours as you pulled on his hair the closer you got to cumming on his cock.

"Keep going, you're doing so well..." his eyes rolled back and his hands gripped on to your hips tightly. You sensed the bruise of his fingertips engraving into your skin.

Just another way Yoongi left his mark on you.

But bruises and hickies fade over time - you weren't sure if the mark he made in your heart would ever really go away.

Not when he looked at you like you hung the stars for him. And you would. You'd give him the stars and moon and everything he asked for if he wanted.

"Gonna cum," he groaned, hiding his face in your neck peppering the skin with little kisses, moaning against your collarbone.

He felt your nails dig into his shoulders as you came undone along with him. Your fluids mixed as he filled your cunt with his cum. You collapsed forward onto him, resting your head on his shoulder as he held you. Your legs twitched as your orgasm hit.

Yoongi held you until your breathing returned to normal. He idly rubbed up and down your back, softly kissing your temples every now and then whispering sweet praises to you.

"I don't wanna move," you mumbled, your eyes closed just listening to Yoongi's soft, even breaths.

"Then don't move," he brushed his hands over your cheek. "Just stay like this with me."

You let out a tired laugh - could it really be that easy? To stay with him?

You knew there was so much that was still left unsaid.

"I should go home," you sat up straighter on his lap to take a good look at him. You hated how it felt like another goodbye.

"Y/N."

You shook your head and started to lift yourself off of him. you both winced at the feeling of his cock leaving your pussy. Yoongi did his best to help get you clean, wiping up your thighs, silently cleaning you up before you crawled back to your seat.

"Are you regretting it?" his lips were set in a straight line and his tone shot an arrow to your chest. The last thing you wanted was to hurt him.

"What?" you met his fixed look, trying to read behind the hardness in his eyes.

He lifted an eyebrow waiting for your answer. He didn't bother repeating the question he knew you heard.

"No," you reached for his hand, using both of yours to cup one of his. "Just... not knowing what happens next makes it feel like goodbye again and... I don't think I'm ready for that," you admit.

His eyes soften hearing you admit you don't want to say goodbye to him again.

You didn't know if a relationship with Yoongi would work out or not at this time. Really, what growth could have happened in the month apart to make him ready?

"One step at a time, okay?" he reminded you gently.

You nodded your head, allowing him to pull you back into another kiss.

"I wanna be someone you deserve," he whispered against your mouth.

Every part of you wanted to ignore the ways he had fucked up in the past and tell him it was all okay - but you couldn't lie to yourself or him. You both needed time.

"One step at a time," you repeated those words to him before kissing him back again.

--

THANK YOU FOR READING! was vry nervous to post bc I haven't done it in so long, but this was really fun to write! I didn't realize how much I missed it and ofc I feel so rusty so I hope you enjoyed <3

tagging some of my fav creators on here: @gimmethatagustd @raplinesmoon @wonhosmistress

(also pls lmk if you don't wanna be tagged! last time I posted I was in a writing network and it was shut down so now idk what the etiquette for sharing/tagging is im sorry fdkgjd ily I haven't been on here in a while but can't wait to catch up/re-read some of my fav fics too)

[astnmartn]

it’s you she’s thinking of (2/?)

pairing: severus snape x fem!reader

summary: reader is friends with the marauders, but after standing up for severus snape, james and sirius ignore them. reader struggles faintly with guilt but knows they did the right thing and try’s to make amends with severus.

notes: 1.5k words! I’m sorry this took so long. I’m an insane procrastinator so I sincerely apologize! (also the formatting is so wonky tumblr is being stupid.) Severus is so cute I can’t!!! he’s so ooc it’s amazing. I’m inlove. :P let me know what you think and enjoy!

Today is the day you told yourself. Today is the day you confront James and Sirius and solve what’s going on between the three of you and be friends again. Like it used to be. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling would not get you anywhere, so you got up and changed into your robes.

It was a gloomy Saturday morning; you thought as you looked out the window next to your bed. You hoped it wasn’t a bad omen. It is still early in the morning, so you don't expect anyone to be up yet; you hear voices in the common room. Stepping outside the girl’s room, you step back in immediately. You spot James and Sirius making conversation on one of the many couches. The floor creaks underneath you, and they turn toward the sound, going quiet.

“Hey, you two.” You speak, giving them a small wave. “Hey y/n. Just the person we wanted to see.” Sirius smiles. James sighs beside him. “Come. Sit. James has something he needs to tell you.” James shakes his head as Sirius beckons you over to the couch next to them. You walk over to the armchair and sit with your palms sweating. “Okay. What is it?” “C'mon, James, tell her.” Sirius pleads. James shakes his head, slumping further into the couch. Sirius scratches the back of his neck, something you came to learn he does when he's uncomfortable.

“It’s alright if you’re not ready to talk to me, James. I just want to say this. I don’t regret what I did. Not one bit. If doing the right thing by helping Severus from being tormented by you ruins our friendship, then so be it.” You let out. A part of you hurts having said those words. After all, they had been your best friends since the second year.

James and Sirius say nothing. James is avoiding eye contact, and Sirius looks as if he has something to say. “I’m going to go now. Bye.” You look back once and Sirius stands up, but James pushes him back down. “Don’t.” James stands up. “Filthy half bloods have to stick together, after all, don't they?” James snickers.

Reaching for the door handle, you stop. You felt your stomach drop and your eyes prickle with tears. “Y/n…” Sirius breathes. You open the door and take off. You don’t witness Sirius stand and push James onto the couch, scolding him.

The same James who swore he didn’t care about blood status. Who swore he wasn’t like all the other pure bloods in the school, and the same James who in 2nd year picked you up when you fell in mud in front of the entire school. James and his friends, who helped you get cleaned up and defended you from the students teasing you.

You were inseparable, and now it didn’t seem like you could ever be again.

_

You run as fast as you can down the moving staircases, hoping no one will see you with tears rolling down your face.

You push past the mob of students trying to enter the great hall, in order to leave the castle. At the same time looking down at your feet trying to avoid the stares of those passing by, you don’t see Remus and Peter in front of you. You bump into both of them.

“Hey, hey, where are you off to?” Remus asks you, looking worried. When you don’t answer, he lifts your face to look at him. You don’t protest. “Are you okay? What happened? Was it James?” He questions you frantically. Peter looks at you apologetically.

“I’m fine.” You say, wiping your face of tears more threatening to spill. You try to smile to show them you're okay, but you fail. “I’m just going to go, okay? I’ll see you two later.” You walk further from them and Remus is about to go after you, but Peter holds him back.

“She needs to be alone. She’ll tell us when she’s ready. Just relax.” Peter looks at Remus. He looks like he could bite. Remus nods.

_

You leave through the back doors and go downhill towards the ground keeper's hut. All sense of direction has left your mind, only being able to think about how badly James had hurt you. That being said, you walked so far you hadn’t noticed you’d stumbled into the forbidden forest. Only realizing when you heard someone calling your name.

You wiped your tears to clear your blurry vision. Looking around, you can only make out a tall figure dressed in black. You sniffle as they call out your name again. “Y/n? What are you doing out here?” You recognize that voice.

“Oh Severus. I didn't know you were down here. I'm sorry, I'm going to go.” You whisper and turn to leave.

“No, stay.” He responds. He comes up to you and study’s your expression. “You’ve been crying. Why?” He demanded softly. You’re quite surprised by his demeanor. “It’s nothing, really.” You said sniffling. “It's not nothing if you've come down here crying.” he adds a supportive hand to your shoulder. He looks at you with kind eyes, a rare sight. He's willing to listen.

He nods his head toward a black blanket laying on the ground. “Come, sit.” He invites you. You nod and follow behind him, watching the wind run through his long black hair, a mesmerizing sight. The blanket lays below a large tree, with the leaves changing colors. Severus sits first, next to a small pile of books and a few pieces of buttered bread from breakfast.

You sit next to him, although you can feel sticks and rocks under you, it is quite comfortable “Is where you hang out?” You ask, turning to face him. He’s already looking at you. “Yes, it is. It’s especially beautiful at this hour.” He says. You look around and it’s true. The fresh smell of the outdoors, specifically after rainfall, the light sun peeking through the trees, and the trees getting absorbed by the fog, do look especially beautiful today.

You silently agree with him as he continues to look at you. You avoid his eyes, pretending his piercing gaze isn’t making you flush. “So, now, do you want to tell me what made you come down here in the first place?” You look down, biting your lip nervously, the memory of James making you feel uneasy. “It’s just James. He said something awful about you and me. Something I would have never expected him to say.” Oh. Severus furrows his brows in confusion. He knows James would of course be cruel to him, but to you?

“I'm sorry about that.” He says softly. “What did he say? If you don’t mind, of course.” You look at him with a pained expression, he almost regrets asking. You go on, “He said, filthy half bloods should stick together. He didn’t even look like he regretted saying it.” your lip trembles. You wipe the tears before they fall. “The worst part is that I’ll probably forgive him.” You say, hiding your face behind your shaky hands.

“But you shouldn’t.” Severus removes your hands from your face, looking you in the eyes. “He doesn’t deserve you or your forgiveness.”

You’re not sure what led you to hug him, but you don’t regret it. You pull him into your arms and hold him tightly. He jumps slightly, surprised, but he settles. You can tell he isn’t used to it. He melts into your touch, tentatively hugging you back.

_

After your eventful morning and a semi delightful breakfast period with Severus, you finished your classes along with the rest of the day, and it was time for dinner. Remus and Peter had already gone down to secure a suitable spot on the table (Remus' idea, of course) in order for you to not have to sit close to James or Sirius.

You still hadn’t told him the reason you were so upset, but he knew the look of guilt on James’ face wasn’t just a coincidence. Still, Remus did not confront him, as it wasn’t his place and he knew better than to get involved when it was clearly personal.

As you enter the great hall, your eyes dart toward the Slytherin table. Severus' eyes are already on you. You shoot him a quick smile, one which he returns. You head to your table and sit across from Peter and Remus with a happy sigh. Looking at Remus and Peter in front of you, they give you odd looks. Remus eyebrow is raised and Peter looks a bit taken aback.

“What was that?” Remus starts, “What was what?” You said, trying to stop a smile from creeping onto your face. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, we both saw it! Didn’t we Peter?” Remus has a smile that reaches his eyes and is trying to hold in a sweet laugh. Peter nods in agreement.

“It’s nothing.” You say finally, smiling sheepishly.

_

taglist: @blueberrysquire , @sadeyes61 , @bookworm8161 , @tellybearryyyy

[mygnolia]

please, say you love me. - maknae line vers.

or....perhaps not the first, but the most memorable of times they’ve said i love you. 

pair: maknae!enha x reader (separate) | genre: comfort, fluff, minor angst | wc: 1k HYUNG LINE VERS.

REN SAYS... i am always on that childhood friends to lovers agenda

—

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ KIM SUNOO

'i love you,  i always have and i always will.'

kim sunoo, who you’ve always had by your side growing up, and were simply the most inseparable pair. 

kim sunoo, who announces to you that he’s going to be attending the school of his dreams in the fall- but it’s hours away from yours. 

you’ve asked him what it’s like to have feelings, or what it’s like to have a crush. and sunoo answers honestly everytime. “i don’t know, ____.” and you believe that he truly has never felt the electrifying touch of a first love. you’re afraid to ask if he would ever try- afraid to face some sort of disappointment, or some notion that sunoo would never try to love you. 

it starts small, like a gentle appreciation for his physical comfort and words of affirmation- because sunoo has always been there for you, and if anyone asked, he’d say the same about you. 

you come to him a week before he’s expected to move in, fiddling with your fingers as you finally let the thread of doubt snap in your chest. “would you ever have feelings for me?” you ask, as he stands in the doorway. “i’m sorry, i know it’s a loaded question, but i just- i just wanted some sort of answer before you leave. 

and sunoo smiles, pulling you in to shield you from the cold night as he envelopes you in a long hug. when you stare up at the boy who’s always been your best friend, you feel only peace within your heart. 

“i have never been able to say if i truly love someone because for a long time i didn’t understand it- but i know i want you in a way that’s a bit more than friends, ___.” 

you feel your chest pouring with happiness, the elation reaching your eyes and your smile. 

“it’s crazy- and weird, and so unlike us, but i think i love you- and we don’t have to do anything about it yet- but just know i do.” you tell him, feeling a weight finally letting off. sunoo, even in the dark of his house, smiles, and kisses your forehead. 

“i love you, ____. i always have, and always will.” 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ YANG JUNGWON

'i love you, and i'll be around to say it again and again.'

yang jungwon, who does his best to spend time with you despite his hectic and busy schedule.

yang jungwon, who wouldn’t dare  do or say anything to hurt you, and promised to himself to be the best and only the best. 

there’s a night, however, where the air is hard to decipher- whether jungwon’s duties and priorities kept him late from coming home, whether you’ve also had a fair share of things on your plate, or maybe a combination of both; whatever it is, it plagues your conversation with uneasiness and discomfort. and you both know somethings up.

you go to watch today’s dishes as jungwon packs leftovers in the fridge, and you follow this routine of shared responsibility so well all the time that you wonder if maybe he’s grown tired of it. 

jungwon is keen to detail. he knows you, because he has loved you for so long. 

“what’s wrong, angel?” and he wraps his arms around you at the sink, his chin resting on your shoulder as he avoids your moving arms. 

you’re not sure when tears have sprung into your eyes, but at the first sniffle, jungwon is quick to tense up, turning to make proper eye contact with you before he reaches up with his thumb and silently wiles away the melancholy threatening to spill from your waterline. “i don’t know, ‘won.” and you know things will be fine, as he does, because you don’t push him away or stray from affection even when times are hard. “maybe we’ve just been tired and busy, but i’m afraid you just love me because of convenience.” 

“no- i would never,” and the look you see in his eyes only furthers his serious and unwavering tone. “i love you, ____, always- and i’ll be around to say it again and again.” and maybe nights like these or weeks like now are hard and rough around the edges, but with the way you cradle his face with a gentle kiss and downpour of love, you both know things will be okay.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ NISHIMURA RIKI

'i love you, and i promise it's for real this time.'

nishimura riki, who used to make hearts in the sand with your initials in the middle, giggling and snapping a photo for every-time you two marked your friendship.

nishimura riki, who used to snicker at you everytime you talked about your feelings towards other guys and brushed them off.

what riki never knew, however, was that your feelings were always for him, and despite the anonymous ramblings over a crush from middle school, it never piqued riki’s curiosity until now. until you’re older, and one night, he finds you ramblingly and giggling on his porch , asking if he’s loved you like how you’ve always loved him. and riki asks you carefully what it means to be in love, and you tell him how you think he’s attractive, how determined he is, or how he continues to work hard despite his obstacles. and he laughs, telling you he loves you too, but you take it seriously- more seriously than he expected. 

and now, you’re not so sure where you stand with him. 

“riki,” you call out as you two walk home from hanging out with your friends. “did you mean it when you said you loved me?” 

you ask all the questions he’s unsure of, and it slides things into place when he properly thinks about it. and there’s only one clear answer, because when he thinks back to the night when you told him just a few of the easiest things to love about him, he realized he harbored the same emotions for you. he’s just never had the chance to sit down and really evaluate what it means to be in love, but he sees it now, clearer. 

“i love you.” he blurts, and you quickly look over to see how he’s gone wide eyed. 

“do you mean it, though? or are you just saying it because you want me to feel better?” 

he shakes his head quickly, stopping the two of you on the sidewalk and taking your cold hands into his. “yes- i do mean it, and i never meant to take so long to realize my feelings.” he swallows, feeling all nervous inside. “i love you, ____, and i promise it’s for real.” and his lips curl into a toothy grin before his hands wrap around your waist as you lean in for a kiss. 

---

riki brainrot is real i need this man so bad im frl abt to read a 30k fic about him hes so cute

[rubyrose143]

Hirano and Kagiura

„To all the haters out there, I just wanna say, if you’re jealous then just go cry about it“ - Amy Flamy

I wanted to do this thread now to end the forced hate towards hrkg.

So lean back and enjoy cause it’s gonna be MUCH 😉 (I’m their lawyer haha)

some information before I start:

Hirano and Kagiura are two roommates who live in the same dormitory and attend the same school. Hirano is one year older and on the disciplinary committee and Kagi is on the basketball team.

Let’s start 😁

We all know Hirano and Kagiura have a special bond since the first time they met! Kagi is really fond of Hirano and Hirano is really attached to Kagi.

Both are really direct and stubborn people, nice and caring but also loud and straight forward! But even when there are points where they are really similar, there are things where they aren’t similar, at all. In fact how they love a person is different and that’s what I’m going to show you.

„Hirano doesn’t love Kagi and never will, because he doesn’t feel romantic/ intimate feelings towards him. He does that to satisfy Kagiura“

Reeeeeeeaaaaallllllyyy? Wow this is interesting. So love means intimacy?Hmm… I seee.

So Kagiura didn’t love Hirano before the temple too because he didn’t had the urge to kiss him nor to touch him? Miyano didn’t like Sasaki too because he didn’t know if kissing was okay?

Love is something complex, something big and complicated. Love doesn’t mean: „Crush, blush, date, marry, sex, children“

No. If you love someone you want to be with them, you care about them, you miss them, you want to help them, support them in every little situation.

And both Hirano AND Kagi care about each other more than anyone else

Hirano always cared about Kagi, thinking about if he ate or practiced, if he’s fine and not overworking himself. 

After the confession where he turned him down, even THEN he cared about his feelings, thinking if it’s okay to wear the earrings he has gotten from his kouhai. 

He lets them try things out (the ten seconds) to see if he can see him as a potential partner 

And the courage to say that Kagi forces Hirano to do thing he doesn’t want is just straight up absurd. Kagi always sticks to the line and never breaks his boundaries.. Even when he did cross the line even a little, he felt guilty and apologized immediately, thinking about it for days! And Hirano hates it when Kagi avoids him and TELLS him to do it (madly… and loud…)

And Hirano doing this all to satisfy Kagiura because he could never love him is also just stupid. When Miyano wanted time to see if he can see Sasaki as a romantic partner, did we say he won’t love Sasaki? No… but fine let’s say Hirano and Kagi won’t get together cause why not? (sigh) 

How Niibashi said, Hirano is on his journey to fall in love. He is realizing things like, he does like Kagiura and he doesn’t dislike touching (if he initiates it) he wasn’t this far few chapters ago. Hirano never had thoughts about romantic relationships and people are all stereotypical about romance. Let the boy experience his own emotions. If he doesn’t like things, that’s fine, if he does like things that’s fine too. But stop being so pushy and try to make everything about stereotypes. Sensei‘s work was never like that. She doesn’t even like to use things like Uke and seme, she writes a story about boys who love each other. And isn’t that why we read this? So why make everything negative just because you don’t like it. If you don’t like hrkg or ssmy, don’t read it and don’t take the joy of the people who do love it.

And also, Kagi is right, sometimes love isn’t pink and beautiful, sometimes it hurts

Because love is sometimes suffering, longing, guilt and missing. 

And I use the words ‚sometimes‘ really often because it’s different for every couple and pair all around the world. Everyone loves different! Just because hrkg‘s relationship is like that, doesn’t mean ssmy‘s is like that. Just because ssmy‘s relationship is like that, doesn’t mean hrkg‘s relationship is like that (And both couples are healthy and perfect in their own ways)

Hirano and Kagiura have a great relationship 

Supporting each other

Caring about each other

missing each other

thinking about each other

appreciating each other

And that’s what you call ‚love‘. It’s a pure feeling. Intimacy comes muuuuchhhhhh later (sometimes). We don’t know if Hirano will be ready in one chapter, in five chapters or in fifteen chapters! And that’s not our problem anyway. 

How Kagiura said, for him love means wanting to be with someone more than anyone else, and Hirano feels the same way. 

Kagiura is faster in wanting things cause he had a previous relationship where he didn’t want any of this so he can compare both feelings.

So he is sure this one has to be Love.

.

.

.

In the end they care about each other more than anyone else. Support each other more than anyone else.

Enjoy being with each other more than with anyone else.

And love each other more than anyone else, cause they are their favorite/ most important persons in each others life.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of Hirano and Kagiura which still has a looooong way to go.

And we fans are always gonna be here no matter what! So for all the people who still hate and comment, please, go read Hirano to Kagiura AND Sasaki to Miyano again, thanks!

Thanks for reading this! I worked on this for many days! Let’s spread this and make the haters go away! 💚💛

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆ MAYBE, SAM WINCHESTER.

summary. you and sam are both falling out of love with each other.

Word count. 826

Nooo my shayla number 2… Dean got one, Sam deserves one too because he’s so loved. By me. This makes me so sad. I need to write a happy one now. Pls interact :)

supernatural masterlist

my full masterlist/support my work!

──────────୨ৎ──────────

Sam is not a hypocrite. But he’s a terrible liar. The way he touches his hair, paces, does anything to avoid and run from you.

It’s pretty obvious, now. You know exactly what he feels, because you feel it too. Or-don’t feel it, anymore.

His kisses don’t taste the same. His lips touch yours, but they’re barely here, it’s like a ghost of their own.

His hands touches yours from time to time, but it feels like his soul is gone. His hand is here-in yours, but he’s not. He does it because he’s used to it, he does it, because it’s an automat and he doesn’t want you to know, that’s he’s fallen out of love with you.

Your kisses are heavier than his, though also ghostly.

Your hands lay his in, because you’re used to it, and because though you don’t love him anymore, it’s still Sam. He’s still the safest person around. He’s still your best friend.

You tell him you love him because it’s what you think he wants to hear. He wants to hear that you have no idea how unhappy he is. That he doesn’t love you anymore, except you do know, because you don’t love him either.

Sometimes when you’re alone, you laugh about how fucked up and ironic it all is. Because not so long ago you were just two kids trying to make it through the day. Thinking that no one could come between the two of you, and that you’d be together forever. Neither of you thought what would come between your love would be- yourselves.

It’s beautiful though, you think. That two people who once loved each other so much, who would die for each other, could tear one another apart, without saying a single word. By their actions, or their lack of.

Sam has a beautiful soul, and you’ll love his soul forever- just not, him.

Neither of you can quite comprehend how it happened. You woke up one morning, and the spark was gone- like it’d never been there in the first place. His touch, his lips and his presence felt foreign, so did yours.

He could tell, sometimes that maybe you might feel the same. Maybe just maybe he won’t have to break your heart because you also lost it- that love. But you were still better at hiding it than him.

You didn’t cry about it which was out of character. You cried about a lot of things. But knowing that it wasn’t just you- that you weren’t crazy for falling out of love with Sam Winchester, made you feel more at ease.

Anyone would think it’s crazy to fall out of love with such a perfect man. Except he’s not perfect. At the end of the day, he’s still a man. He’s human. And no human is perfect. Sam has his flaws- you have yours. Sam pushes your buttons. Sam crosses a lot of lines. Maybe that’s what made you quit.

You quit loving him, maybe you gave up, and maybe that makes you a coward, but what does that make him?

Sam feels terrible. You’re the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to him. The moment the switch turned off, he felt like he might’ve lost his mind, because no one in their right mind would fall out of love with you.

So maybe he is crazy, maybe you both are. Maybe you’re both cowards, impatient, flawed, and stupid.

Maybe, just maybe this wasn’t meant to happen and there’s a whole universe out there where Sam is the love of your life. Maybe he cooks you breakfast, and spends long mornings laying in bed with you. Maybe- in this far away universe, sam is a husband, a father to your child or children, maybe you got out.

Maybe you’re a teacher, maybe he is.

Or maybe you’re strangers and never cross paths, maybe that’s all for the better for the other you’s.

Or maybe this was meant to happen, and it’s just a great story, ending with sad goodbyes, because he’s sam, and you’re you. You’re not perfect- this was never meant to be perfect. Maybe you’ll find your way back to each other, or maybe, just maybe this is the best thing to ever happen to you.

Maybe someone better is waiting for you, or him out there. Maybe in ten years either of you will be married with kids of your own running in the backyard of the house you bought. Sam will still be on the back of your mind, wondering how he’s doing. And you’ll be on the back of his while he’s taking the children to school.

Or maybe you’ll both be alone forever, because he was your one true love, and you his.

Maybe it’s meant to happen like that, even if it’s not fair.

It doesn’t have to be easy, it just has to be done.

[yurinaa-world]

hello, can I request Jing Yuan, Caelus and Welt with an injury prone reader who constantly hides and dismisses their injuries? (Getting hit by falling objects, being the unfortunate victim of harsh attacks, Getting shoved down a flight of stairs by accident or tripping over objects)

Despite the fast reflexes developed to avoid a good chunk of injuries, they still get hurt to the point of needing medical aid (bloody head, heavy bleeding ext.) and are unable to tell immediately due to their high pain tolerance. Even then, reader avoid being healed like the the plague and running off to tend to their injuries on their own. If they wake up in a hospital, they will sneak out of said hospital and dismiss concerns of their Injuries when found.

Reader will say "oh its just a scratch" as if their arm hadn't been nearly mauled by a bear.

Thanks,

Characters: Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, and Welt yang x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: reader who get injured easily, but dismisses it

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes, mentions of blood, stitches, wounds/injuries

Notes: sorry I don't write for Cealus so I replaced him with Dan Heng if you don't mind

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

You’ve been avoiding him for a while; anytime you see him around the corner, you run the opposite way. You were injured from a pretty nasty fight with monsters, but knowing Jing Yuan, you would have to wait a good 5 hours to heal up properly so he wouldn’t notice the injury and force you into the hospital, and you would rather deal with it yourself. One thing is that he doesn’t take your word on you dismissing your injuries. Don’t believe he doesn’t notice since you always do the same thing when this happens.

You also go to the guest bathroom to stitch and clean yourself up properly, especially making sure that the servants won’t tell Jing Yuan, yet some little stitching does. You might as well go through the guest window instead of the door (which you did go through a handful of times).

You have to clean the evidence, like scrubbing down everything to make sure not even a drop of blood is left behind, and burn the cloth that had all your blood on it along with stings and needles used for your stitches (anything you used to clean your wounds).

All that’s left is to face him, which is another annoying problem.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

+(Bonus blurb)

You lay back against the headboard of your shared bed. stretching your shoulder and sighing, feeling the little sting from the stitches that you did yourself for a couple of hours. “Is something wrong with your shoulder?” Jing Yuan asks while reading his book.

He didn’t even glance up from the text in front of him. You looked down at your shoulder, the very tint of where the stitches are. “Oh no, I’m fine, just stiff is all." “Are you sure?" "yeah,” you nodded, sweating a little.

"I didn’t see you today,” he commented, saying it in an unusual tone that made you look over at him. It was an expression you never thought he would wear—blank, almost mad, or not wanting to say anything.

“Ah, I stayed home,” you replied, looking away. “The servants informed me that you went out and then came back home bloody.” Oh, you gotta be kidding about those damn snitches!

you thought, but instead just smiled nervously at Jing Yuan. He finally closed his book and looked up at you, his gold eyes freaking at you.

“well?”

"I tripped!"

“You can’t fool me," he stated flatly, crossing his arms around his chest and face and switching to his smirk, making a whole change in the atmosphere, and you couldn’t help but shiver.

"Fine," you huffed, rolling your eyes. "I got a little hurt and fixed myself with stitches. “I’m perfectly fine, though!" You added trying to play off your injury.

“What shall I do with you? Maybe tie you up?”

“Tie me up?! Over this!”

“Sounds fitting for you.”

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

You avoid everyone like plague and stay in your room, locking your door and not letting anyone in. It takes you such a long time to stitch up and clean up your wounds. If March knows, and even if you asked her to keep it away from Dan Heng,  she just can’t keep her mouth shut.

Whenever you do get hurt in front of him, you immediately tell him you're fine and avoid any help from him, even if you look like you got jumped by 15 different people.

There have been times you forgot to lock your door, which happens when you run into your room cleaning up your very messed-up wounds without more of your blood ruining your floor.

But also the part about having a big mouth and your door being unlocked—yeah,  him seeing your trashy, shaky hand trying to stitch yourself up freaks him out that he has to help you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

+(Bonus blurb)

You groan in annoyance, sitting at your little two-seat table, medkit on your table, trying your best to pull string in the skin of your arm without causing more damage than necessary. needle going through your skin with the rest of the string in your mouth. Your lips tug on the thread, and you feel the tug in your teeth.

“What are you doing?” You hear Dan Heng say something, making you stop in your tracks as you attempt to pull the string out of your mouth. You sigh, turning around to face Dan Heng. "Uh, Dan Heng, what are you doing here?" you sweat. “March said you weren’t feeling well and I should check on you; it looks like she’s right." stupid march! “You don’t need to bother,” yet he doesn’t listen to you.

He goes over to your chair beside the one you were in, pulling it up so that he is sitting next to you, taking your arm with trashy stitches on it, removing it, and cutting it off for a fresh new start.

"You shouldn’t have the string in your mouth; germs could transfer to the wound and give you an infection.”

He scolded gently, cleaning up the wound, taking the string, and gently taking your arm, slowly taking the needle and gently pulling it through your skin, being careful not to tear the flesh.

“Dr. Dan Heng, you really do know everything." You laugh slightly while watching him work his magic on your arm.

“Dr. Dan Heng? It’s good to know about this stuff when it comes to you,” he shrugs nonchalantly. He completely fixes your arm, and you look at your cleaned arm with an impressed look.

“Thank you, Dan Heng.”

𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓉 𝓎𝒶𝓃𝑔

You worry a lot about him; you can’t even hide it or play it off with him; he can just see the slight change in your body, your stunning white walking, or how you clutch at your shoulder and go to change bandages, and even more blood starts to soak out.

While you are sleeping together, he wakes up to a weird feeling, turning the lamp to see a little pool of blood by the shoulder and the shoulder of your clothes, also stained in crimson red, while you look so uncomfortable by the wet feeling.

He wakes you up, and you fix up while you're still half asleep, not knowing what’s even happening as he cleans the sheets, wounds, and clothes to make sure your blood doesn’t leak out again.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[volturiprincess]

You're mad at them

Summary: Just headcanons of what your mate does when you are mad at them A/N: I got inspired by this one-shot about another fandom I like and the reader was mad also got inspired by this line "Don't call me darling, you lost the privilege to call me that". This is actually my first headcanon, it was going to be multiple drabbles but I changed my mind the last minute. But enjoy.

The Volturi:

Demetri:

It’s impossible to be mad at him

He's just such a casanova that what can he possible do to make you mad at him 

But then also look at him, he’s beautiful and he has that suave voice that gets you weak in the knees

Even with just a touch to your elbow you are on the brink of forgiving him (and he knows that very well)

As a tracker he can track you down right away whenever you are trying to avoid him (so that's useless to even try)

You tried just closing your eyes to avoid looking at him when he tries confronting you but then again with just a touch you are “Fuck it I cant be mad at you Dem”

Or he uses his sweet talk, with just a simple “cariño¨, you are already melting into him and YOU are the one saying sorry to him for being mad at him 

When ever you try walking away from him he instantly pulls you back and wraps his arms around you and cuddles you into his chest and in between kisses he is saying sorry and saying how much he loves you and cherishes you 

So at the end of the day good luck being mad at him because he knows how make you melt in many different ways 🙃which ends up being muscle memory to him 😘

Felix:

Look for Felix, he does not know what to do honestly, my poor giant usually keeps things calm between you two and hates to see you upset, so if you are mad at him well he will try everything to resolve this 

Like how can anyone be mad at him, he's a freaking teddy bear in disguise 

At first he gives you space, thinking that might help

Wrong, he needs to be with you, his love language is touch so neglecting you touch hurts him 

So he tries with flowers, he knows you love flowers (as cliche as that is your a hopeless romantic, I'm on the same boat though :))

The first time it worked but then the third time it didn't 

He knows hes fucked now when he realizes not even flowers can save him from this torture of you being mad at him

Hes not to kin with words (that's Demetri’s department), he will go to him for help but when you are determine to be mad at him  words he say goes in one ear and out the other (even is his sweet talk melts your heart)

So when you are in that mindset to stay mad at him, he goes to his last hope that he knows will be very effective

He uses this tactic usually when you are walking around the castle or are laying in bed

He basically pounces on you like a predator does to a prey (seems fit since he is a predator and you are a prey, in this case you are still human) 

He pins you against either a wall or bed and leans his face dangerously close to your neck 

“Look my little rose, I don't like the idea of you being mad at me and I know you don't like being mad at me either, so let's move on from this or….no sex for a month”

You know he never bluffs, there was one time where you didn't do it for a week and that was pure torture for sure for the both of you 

So with that you forgive him and you instantly cuddle with him which he just loves, he is after all a teddy bear in disguise 

And touch is his love language 

Alec:

My poor love, what can I say about him 

A bit like Felix, he does not know what to do honestly 

“...Ca-”

“No, don't even try with the cara, Alec, you lost your privilege to call me that”

Oh you are pissed indeed, he is left flabbergasted when you say that and you leave him like this 🧍🏻

Internally he knows hes fucked, what the hell can he do to make it up to you 

He can't even sweet talk you because he knows he lost that privilege to call you such names

Sometimes he does romantic gestures toward you, all of your favorite flowers placed in every spot of your shared room (aww isn't he just adorable 🥰)

But when you deny his gestures, he tries to calm himself, it's not like he is mad at you (maybe just a little bit) but he's so lost, he’s not a casanova like Demetri or a secret teddy bear like Felix, for fucks sake hes one of the infamous witch twins that everyone fears (my heart, I cant bare to call them that)

Even if you are pissed at him, he won't leave you alone, he knows that you might need space at some points but he's always vigilant of you 

But his patience can run low when this drags to long for his comfort 

He knows one of your weaknesses is his face (like just looking at his face calms you, why? It is unclear to him)

And he can tell when you are in this mood you avoid looking at his face, because he knows with just a look you will run back into his cold embrace that you love so much

So he will corner and raise your chin to look at him 

And man when you look at his burgundy eyes, you know this behavior has vanished and you just want to be with him again 

This cheeky vampire will tease you about how his face alone is your weakness 

You threaten him to shut up or you will sit on it

Just that “threat” alone can turn on you right away 

So much for being mad at him 

Jane:

Don't, just don't 

She will not be taking such attitude from you and letting you be mad at her 

If you want to be mad at her, its your lost 

She can easily avoid you and will do it for days if she needs to (even if she secretly hates doing that, she will not tell you for obvious reasons)

When she does “disappear” you are regretting all of your life choices at that moment, “Why the heck am I doing this again? Oh right, I'm mad at her. Why was I mad again?”

It's impossible to find her, you even go to Alec but he just responds “She told me not to tell you, you did this to yourself”

No amount of prying your mates brother will get him to reveal her location 

At that point you give up 

Jane on the other hand shes pacing in the throne room when she knows you are not close contemplating what to do to make it up to you 

Even if she has made it clear she doesn't like this attitude from you, it hurts her seeing you mad at her 

She wishes times like this does not exist but they do and like her twin she's lost

She knows no matter what she does for you, you would never expect her to do it so that's her advantage 

And as uncomfortable it is for her to be romantic toward you, she will for your sake

Expect flowers, your favorite treat, and books when you wake up in the mornings or when you take your naps 

It makes your heart flutter at the sight and you want her next to you right away

When you are at the point of giving up on being mad at her, she is there right away and you are the one saying sorry to her 

She will hush you and say “Don't be sorry tesoro, its my fault”

It does take her a while to admit to her faults but she will do anything to be able to be with you once again 

Caius

Oh honey, you are playing with fire here 

If your mad, hes mad 

But with him instead of avoiding you or giving you space, he wants to get to the bottom of this and resolve it 

Even if it just fuels the fire more, he will not tolerate you being mad at him

He loves you and hates when there is conflict between you guys 

He might say some things that are a bit to straight forward but you know he is like this 

He of course will either be pacing in front of you while resolving this or have you on his lap comforting you and hearing your case 

He would stroke your hair as you are saying why you are upset with him and nod along

When your mad beyond words to describe it, he will try to keep his anger at bay even if you are making allegations that are “offending him” (he knows you are right but why admit that to you)

 But then again it is hard to stay mad at him for long, as said before when there is conflict he will absolutely refuse to dance around this or give you space, he will resolve this in a an hour depending on the issue 

He loves you too much to have you mad at him, no matter what others say about him, you are his everything, his reason for being 

When you are in that situation when you are both shouting at each other (that is when he finally snaps and can't take your suppose allegations anymore), he surprisingly is the one to calm down first, he doesn't like the idea of seeing you yelling at him 

He will be the one to calm you down from your sudden eruption of anger because well only he can the only one to be the angry one, it's in his nature after all as the Ruthless Volturi King 😁

[lucabyte]

How do you get your siffrins to look adult? I keep accidentally giving them a baby face but I WANT THEM TO LOOK GROWN AND EXHAUSTED LIKE HE DESERVES

okay so i legit think i fail at making siffrin look adequately adult like half the time but here's a general breakdown of my like. thought process when im actually um. thinking .

So first of all heres my general tips for proportioning a face, and how i attempt to keep the roundness of sif's in-game proportions while also like... drawing them more realistically? i had to practically reinvent a Human Style for drawing isat fanart since im a furry artist so a lot of this is fresh in my mind, luckily(?) for you i suppose.

This newness also means you can like, watch me fight and struggle against how the hell to do this in my earlier fanart. so feel free to try and see what changed as i pieced it together.

Another note is body proportion. You note giving him a baby face specifically, but some of it MIGHT be that you're drawing the head too big for your style? Try and figure out how many "heads tall" your figures are and tweak the numbers until you find what looks "adult"

Here I cracked open one of the comics I used CSP Model refrences for (albeit feat Loop, who i envision to be the exact same height as siffrin. i am NOT a tall loop truther i think its funnier when that bitch is five foot NOTHING!!!!!)

drawing sif with adult proportions can be deceptively difficult though on account of their Being A Tiny Motherfucker. Mostly here though, I find that the best way to do this is to drop like 1/3rd of the length of an average drawing figure's legs. Short people tend to have short legs. I know this on account of a lot of my ocs being 5'3" and below (... for... reasons...... unrelated to my own... height.... 100%.... ) so once again I think a lot of this can come down to trying to fiddle with numbers and noting down what works.

OKAY NOW ONTO SOME MORE SIFFRIN-SPECIFIC DRAWING TIPS. like these are what i find myself doing to make them look older if i accidentally baby face them myself

The above kind of chibi-er doodle style im still not sure has Siffrin looking adult enough for my liking (someone who considers them minimum 28) but considering they're presumably genuinely a deceptively baby faced guy at least by game's start (even if they should probably look. unhealthy.) it's like... forgivable.

the bald spot is basically fucking cheating in terms of "making them look older" lbr but i am so fucking insistent on it and i punch the air in celebration every time i see anyone else do it. winner is ME!!!!

Anyway. the body hair thing is funny considering we basically have Word Of God that siffrin is not the kind of person who ever likes being naked/even having their feet out in a casual setting. but like. hi its me the weird fucked up miserable nudity guy. of course im drawing every pockmark and texture on their body.

Another note here is, on their naked form, I avoid overly smooth lines for outlines of the limbs and torso. This avoids making them look "sexy twink thin" (not my bag at all) and instead gives the impression of loose skin from fluctuating weight, uneven fat distribution, skin becoming baggier with age. I also let joints jut out and look sharp wherever I can. This is because im an asexual pervert who likes the human form the mostest when i can see 'imperfections' This adds to the haggard nature of it all, by being reasonably honest about what the kind of persistent decade-long neglect of self care and implied malnutrition would do to a guy

Last note: eyes. i find i end up drawing a vague glassy black smear with a hint of white for the sclera for siffrin like. a Lot. Eyebags to show weariness is not my preferred method as I find it, to be rude, a bit of an overused shorthand. Plus, while sif in game does get eyebags, they're usually more on pushed expressions where they're forcing their face. So I put more emphasis on drawing the folds of the upper lid (which the game does not do) to make them look weary.

I dont think i can elaborate on my opinions on How To Draw Eyes without it becoming a way the fuck too long essay because "drawing emotions good" is like. my number 1 goal in every drawing so even if everything else is scuffed to hell I HAVE TOOO get the eyes right because theyre the most emotive part of the face. if i cant capture an emotion correctly the drawing isnt getting fucking finished is the thing, so....

Luckily for me, drawing over eyes and continously tweaking them by painting over and over and over and redoing them can have the side effect of making them look over-detailed and thus worn/tired/agonised. yes this is why i draw loop's face so scrunched all the time. All I can say for this though is to do a lot of studies of both real life faces & the most emotive cartoon faces you personally have experienced. So like. steven universe is great for this because rebecca sugar is so scary at drawing eyes. theyre so fucking scary at it. or sometimes i just go stare at rebecca's old comics because jesus christ. anyway.

??? but yeah hope this helps. its something i feel like i have a genuine hard time with too, especially since im so intent on keeping their face round & my artstyle is genuinely very cutesy even when i am being weird soo ...?

tl;dr:

draw the eyes smaller, give them a chin, the canon nose helps a lot & dont forget the bald spot. everyone draw the bald spot. for me.

[jailforwriter]

Let's get into...

Look, at the end of the day, writing is word choice. You're choosing which words to put in what order to make other people feel Some Type Of Way about the result. But there are 4 bits of advice perennially swirling about the bowels of writing forums that, misapplied, might make you shit the metaphorical bed of optimal communication, and I very much don't want that for you. I'm staunchly pro-avoiding the literary runs, in fact. So let's get into how.

On the chopping block today is my nemesis:

"Cut all adverbs"

I'm not going to pretend that I don't know why this advice exists. All two reasons it exists, even. Let's break them down:

Too many adverbs: we're all guilty of inundating sentences with adverbs. There are many moving components to scenes, and there's often a desire to express every last one of them. It's not enough to say that the ball rolled down the empty street; the reader simply must know that the ball crept exceedingly slowly, cautiously inching downwardly and toward the eerily empty street. But see, that's clunky. It doesn't flow well, doesn't add anything that couldn't have been expressed more concisely through better wording, and, most importantly, it insults the reader's imagination. By overexplaining, you're taking away their (admittedly limited, but crucial!) agency to picture things themselves. Womp womp.

Redundant adverbs: pretentious people have invented far too many words over the years for anyone to be out here saying "ran quickly". Running is inherently quick, my guy. Otherwise, we'd be saying walking or jogging or promenading (yes, really). This is the moment to break out the thesaurus and realize that sprinted, raced, and dashed all say what you wanted them to say and bring an evocative, nuanced vibe to the sentence. And nuance is tasty. Nuance is the sauce that the quirked up white boy (the sentence) was goated with. So we're better off just saying "ran" and saving that adverb for when it's actually trying to communicate complexities, which we'll expound on once we get into why adverbs are hot, actually.

NOTE: this crops up particularly often in dialogue. "Said angrily" is a dialogue tag that may seem inoffensive — until you remember that snapped exists, and furthermore, so does slamming the door in their face.

So then when/where in the annoyingly nondescript hell should I use adverbs?

Fundamentally, when they add meaning to stuff. To elaborate:

Substance: a sad smile is different from a regular smile, and should be described as such. If you just say "they smiled", people will assume it's a "normal" (i.e. happy) smile and call it day. If someone almost smiles, it's also telling us something different than if we'd said that they didn't smile at all; now we can't tell that they found the joke funny but chose not to smile, and the interaction loses substance. (Moreover, waiting and waiting patiently aren't the same thing, as I'm sure your mom pointed out when she still told you off because you "gave her attitude" by breathing too hard while you waited for her to press play on the VCR.)

Pacing: someone shaking their head slowly is different from them shaking their head at regular, normal human speeds. The latter is simple negation, whereas the former has an element of emotional nuance, of why the hell did they do that that way? Was it anger or regret? Denial, maybe? No idea! But now the reader gets to ponder about it, and that's where interest is born, methinks.

Tone: there aren't too many ways to interpret someone saying "I hate you". It's a pretty straightforward phrase, for the most part, deployed with devastating expertise by schoolchildren whose parents won't give into capitalistic fads and buy them a Stanley cup. But if I were to say "I hate you" softly, then ah. Things change. We have contrasting emotions now. Depth. Is it really an "I love you" in disguise? Am I just mad that you're making me order at the counter when you know I get, like, weird when I have to ask them for no pickles? Perchance. The takeaway here is that the adverb made it so that you can't take the sentence at face-value, and that, unlike pickles, is very satisfying.

The other 3 horsemen of the misconstrued writing advice apocalypse (word choice edition) will be coming soon, so please keep an eye out for seals breaking on ominous scrolls. Happy writing!

[cryptidghostgirl]

I had this though on a cute little one shot for Alastor x chubby reader in the hotel I was wondering if you would like to run with it? Where the reader gets some nail varnish that matches their lip color without thinking about it. Alastor becomes rather fond of them wearing the color and eventually it vanishes after Angel points out that it’s almost the exact same color as the reader’s lips.

The reader ends up pouting a bit over it because they can’t find it anywhere in stores anymore. They ask Angel if they borrowed it to Angel’s confusioned response to the tune of “why the fuck would I want to wear your lip color?” And it gets to the point they ask for Nifty’s help finding it while Alastor is trying to avoid the topic entirely. Eventually Nifty DOES find it in the radio tower much to Alastor’s flustered frustration.

A/N oh hell yes i can do this. 11/10. Also I am skipping the fuck around in my request order, I am so nervous about posting cover up pt 4. I promise it will come out soon.

Spicy Sienna and Berry Naughty (Alastor x Gn!Chubby!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Uhhh I got a little suggestive with this one guys. Sorry. Also,, Alastor is a little creepy and stalkery and has a thing about hands. This one just came out all around weird. Also, I named it after my favorite lip and nail polish matching combo so don't judge the fic by its name. Also Alastor sexualizes the reader a bit. Let me know if I missed anything. (guys i really have no idea what happened with this one, i am so sorry. I hope you still like it.) Also,, Alastor is for sure ooc.

Word Count: 3,675

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Alastor Master List 

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

"Is that a new color?"

Alastor's ears perked up. He didn't turn to face the source of the sound but he listened. There was only one person in the hotel Angel would direct such a question towards after all.

"Yeah. It's essie, Berry Naughty is the name I think? Nail polish and makeup products always get called the silliest things. Do you like it?"

Y/n was the Hazbin Hotel's newest resident. They had arrived just a few weeks before, brought into the fold by Angel himself. The pair were old friends apparently, knew each other from back when they were alive.

"Yeah, it suits you. A lot more than that blue you used to wear."

There were three things the pair could be discussing in Alastor's mind. The first was Y/n's clothing. They were always dressed to the nines, decked out in some crazy ensemble or another.

At first, it had seemed foolish to Alastor. Anyone who cared that much about what they looked like had no shot at being an enjoyable person in his mind. That was before he had started to get to know the demon, seen the joy it brought them to indulge in fashion, realized the things they wore were for them and them alone. Everything had changed with that. It wasn't about persuasion, getting attention, facade. It was just who they were.

The thing about this first theory, however, was that Y/n almost never wore blue.

"Hey!" Y/n laughed, sounding a tad offended, "I liked the blue and I still might go back to it."

The second option was lipstick. Another little hobby the demon indulged in that had caused Alastor to misjudge their character upon their arrival was the makeup. Every few days, they would come down from their room in one crazy look or another. It was always something dramatic, coordinated perfectly to whatever else they had going on. If Y/n loved anything, they loved a theme.

Alastor had again made the mistake of assuming Y/n's enjoyment of such a thing was a representation of their vapidness when he had first met them. He would not be making that mistake again. The thing was, for all their wild self expression and experimental use of colors, he had never once see them sporting blue lipstick, he couldn't even picture it.

"What! I'm just sayin." Angel teased.

The third and final option, the one Alastor decided was what they must be discussing, was their nail polish. Y/n loved the act of painting nails, called it a ritual of self adoration. The way they talked about it, someone would think they were dedicating sacrifices at an alter to the gods. Every week, like clockwork, they would repaint them. Monday afternoons, four o'clock sharp. Their favorite color of late had indeed been a dark, almost black, blue. Alastor had liked it. The color had made something about their hands shine.

"Rude." Y/n scoffed in reply.

Alastor had always loved Y/n's hands. He had always had a thing about hands. In his opinion, hands were the most telling part of a person, or demon even. They showed nerves, experience, hard work -- went straight through to the core of who a person was. A carpenter's hands were rough, a cook's were scarred, an artists stained with color, a string musician's had calluses on the fingertips. Yes, a lot about a person could be learned from their hands.

Y/n's hands were soft, on the smaller side, and without the bony protrusions of their knuckles so many people seemed to admire now days. Alastor had never understood the desirability of skeletal thinness. It was impractical and uncomfortable. Y/n's hands suited them perfectly, Alastor thought. They were his favorite pair of hands to watch, the way they would flit across the keys of a piano, the way they kneaded the dough when she baked, the way they held a pen.

"I mean, it does match your lipstick now which is kinda a look."

At this, Alastor really did turn around. He couldn't help himself.

Y/n and Angel were lounging on the couches of the hotel lobby. They were dressed down, wearing a pair of jeans that hugged their legs and a crop top that accentuated their body perfectly. They looked soft, they looked comfortable, they looked delicious.

The idea of hunger was a complicated one. When Alastor thought of other demons as delicious looking, it was because he wanted to eat them, to consume their flesh that is. Y/n was certainly delicious but, he had no desire to eat them. Not like that, at any rate.

Angel had been right, Alastor could see it from across the room. The soft ruddy red of their nail varnish matched the gloss coating their lips perfectly. Alastor had always loved the color red.

"Wait, really?" Y/n asked, holding a hand up to their face, by their mouth, their nails turned out towards Angel, "Is it bad?"

"Nah, it's honestly kinda a look."

Y/n hummed, moving their hand from their face and staring intently at their nails.

"Maybe it'll be my new color then... This is the gloss I wear when I'm just doing normal makeup."

"Cohesion is key." Angel noted, "If you have a look to fall back on, people tend to like that in my experience."

Y/n stayed true to their word and Alastor relished in this revelation. Over the course of the next week, nearly every time he spotted them around the hotel, they were wearing that same combination of nail polish and lipstick. It was a secret indulgence of his, a treasure.

They nearly caught him staring one time as they were talking with him. It was nothing special, just one of their average, casual chats about the ethics of one situation or another. For someone who had ended up in Hell, Y/n had a soft spot for moral philosophy. It was clearly spill over from some preoccupation of their mortal self.

Mid conversation, he had drifted off. He hadn't meant to, it was the way they talked. Y/n was an animated conversationalist, always moving their hands to accentuate their words in one way or another. It drew his eyes to their hands and their face equally, their nails and their pretty, dark red lips.

"Hey, Alastor... Alastor!"

"Yes, my dear?" he had quickly replied, snapping out of his stupor.

"Are you alright?"

"Why on earth wouldn't I be?"

"You just kinda... trailed off there."

Alastor tried his best to push his embarrassment to the side, to shake it off his shoulders seamlessly. Miraculously, he succeeded. He wasn't quite sure how, when they were watching him with such concern filling their eyes, a slight pout to their lips.

"Just a little distracted. Lots to do today. My apologies, my dear."

"And here I thought you loved deontological thought." Y/n had teased.

Everything was fine. Alastor didn't mind Angel having noticed, it was a well known fact the spider demon saw Y/n as a sibling rather than a potential partner. The pair had grown up together and when Sir Pentious, one night, had asked whether or not they had ever messed around with each other, seeing how close they were and comfortable with physical contact, the pair had made eye contact before each putting on their own display of disgust.

Alastor was good at seeing through people, he knew it hadn't been a show. What was a problem was when Husk somehow noticed the pairing of their lip and nail color as well.

Alastor had been talking to Charlie about one thing or another as Y/n shared a drink with Sir Pentious at the bar. He was half listening to Charlie, half to their conversation. Alastor always kept an ear out for Y/n's saccharine tones.

The pair had been chatting about how their respective journeys to redemption were going when Husk had cut in.

"Did you match your nail color to your lipstick?" he asked in mild amazement.

Alastor bristled. That fact was his, was for him. No one else was allowed to see.

"Yeah!" he heard Y/n brightly reply, a tinge of pride to their voice.

Though Alastor's back was to them, he could picture the way they must be holding their delicate, gentle hands up now.

"Isn't it cute?"

Husk whistled.

"Damn, Angel is finally rubbing off on you."

"I mean, I guess." came Y/n's hesitant reply.

"You trying to catch someone's attention?"

Alastor could hear his own heartbeat in the silence that proceeded their reply.

"I mean, not on purpose. Not with this. I just like the way it looks... I don't know, it makes me feel... pretty."

Y/n was right. Alastor knew for a fact, had seen it with his own eyes, how irresistible the combination made them look. Now others were starting to notice it as well and, well, Alastor couldn't have that, now could he.

The next morning, when Alastor came down for breakfast, he noticed Y/n sitting at the table, looking uncharacteristically despondent. His back to them as he began to prepare his morning cup of coffee, he smiled.

"What's got you down, my dear?" he asked and Y/n sighed.

"My nail polish disappeared."

So, they had already noticed. Alastor picked the carton of milk up off the counter.

"Don't you have others? You're always a veritable rainbow of color!"

Alastor kept his voice light and cheery. His coffee made, he took a seat at the table across from them.

"Yeah, I guess. I just liked that one. It matched my favorite lipstick."

"Couldn't you try another color? That midnight blue last week was rather nice."

"Yeah, I guess." suddenly, their eyes shot up to his, a smile breaking out across their face, "Wait, Al! You're a genius! I'll just go buy another bottle!"

When Y/n returned from the store a few hours later, their gray cloud had returned.

"Are you alright?" Vaggie asked as they slumped onto the couch beside her.

Alastor couldn't help but note, from his hiding place, the way the act of sitting changed their body. They were beautiful standing, stunning even, but something about the way their thighs spread out over the surface of the couch...

"Yeah." Y/n grumbled, "Just... bummed."

"Oh no!" Charlie exclaimed, walking away from the bulletin board she was planning their next lesson on and joining the pair, "What happened?"

"It's stupid." Y/n groaned, throwing their head back.

"Wrong guy hit on you?" Angel teased and they immediately righted themselves, shooting him a glare.

"No." they pointedly replied, "Just... that nail polish? Berry Naughty or whatever its called? The one that matched my Spicy Sienna gloss?"

"Damn, you're pulling out the color names." Angel laughed, "Yeah, I know. What about it?"

"I can't find my bottle anywhere and I went to like seven different stores today and none of them had it! Not one! You didn't borrow it, did'ya Ant?"

Angel put a hand to his chest dramatically.

"Who, me?"

Y/n rolled their eyes.

"Nah." he waved them off, "You know I always ask before I borrow. I learned that lesson about you the hard way."

Y/n sighed despondently again.

"I'm sorry." Charlie hummed, patting Y/n's knee comfortingly, "I know it was making you really happy."

"It's silly." they shook their head, "It's just nail polish."

"Yeah but, it clearly brought you a lot of joy." Charlie insisted, "What if I ask Nifty to keep an eye out for it around the hotel?"

Alastor almost let the shadows hiding him from the group in the corner of the room dissolve in shock. He hadn't expected that. He had really thought everyone would just let it go. Yes, he knew Y/n would probably be upset about it for a few days but, that just gave him all the more of an excuse to be near them, to comfort them.

"Really Charlie?" Y/n brightened immediately, "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course! I mean, I'm not making any promises but, you know."

Y/n pulled themselves from the couch, throwing their arms around Charlie's neck.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"It's just a nail polish." Vaggie chuckled, watching the interaction warmly.

Y/n let go of Charlie, who shrugged back at her girlfriend.

"It makes them happy."

Two weeks had gone by with no sign of the bottle of nail polish. Y/n still went to the stores every few days, checking for the color, but had yet to have any luck. Nifty too had come up empty handed.

Alastor was very pleased with himself. The trick of using his shadows to empty every store in the surrounding area of the color before Y/n went shopping was something he was particularly proud of.

Of course, all along, he knew where the missing item was. It was in the top drawer of his night table on the right hand side of his bed. Nifty only went in to clean his room maybe once a month or so and she knew better than to snoop. It was all going off without a hitch, even the comforting aspect. Alastor had had the absolute pleasure and honor of showing up at just the right place, at just the right time (imagine that), so as to be included with Angel when Y/n had the bright idea to see if she could find any other matching colors between her vast collection of lipsticks and lipglosses and even larger collection of nail polish. He wasn't sure how their hands could sustain that much acetone, or their skin that much makeup remover, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

Alastor was in his studio, fixing one of the control panels, his mind filled with spinning memories of the past couple days (Y/n had even hugged him! The feeling of the cushion of their waist against his arms, their stomach, was not one he would soon forget), when he heard a knock at the door. He straightened up, eyeing it suspiciously.

The guests of the Hazbin Hotel, as well as its staff, knew better than to disturb him while he was at work. It's owners, on the other hand, were much more foolhardy. He ran a hand over his hair, straightening it a bit so as to make himself presentable, and called for the knocker to enter.

The door creaked as it swung open, just like Alastor wanted it to. A creaky door was a good thing, it made sure most people couldn't sneak up on him when he was at his most vulnerable, most distracted.

"You'll want to grease that." Y/n hummed as they stepped into the dingy space, "I think we have some WD40 in the basement, if you want me to bring it up for you."

They had never come to visit him up here before, never dared even come near the rotting wooden door. Alastor walked forward, shutting the door behind Y/n now that they were fully in the room. He was close enough to feel their breath on his skin as he smiled down at them.

"No need, my dear, although, I do appreciate the offer."

A silence fell between the pair as Y/n took a few steps further into the room, their eyes running across every surface available before them. Alastor noticed their hands were clasped behind their back. It wasn't an unusual position for them but, something seemed different about it this time.

"What can I help you with?" he cordially asked and Y/n turned to face him.

"Well... I... um..." they locked eyes with Alastor, finding their words at last, "Nifty found something today. While she was cleaning."

Alastor was glad Y/n's demon form was not all that powerful in this moment. If it was, they would have heard his heartbeat spike. His voice, his demeanor, even his expression were easy to control but his heart? Not so much.

"Oh?"

"Yeah... I..." Y/n trailed off.

With a sigh, they brought their hands forward, opening them to reveal the source of Alastor's anxiety. Nestled there, in the softness of their palm, was the nail polish.

"She found it! Congratulations, my dear. You must be thrilled."

"Yeah." Y/n replied uncertainly, looking away.

Alastor knew why they were so uncomfortable, but his hope was stronger. There was an uncanny sense of optimism in him, one that was unfounded and unfamiliar. It drove him to pry, to see how much they really knew. For all Alastor knew, there could be something else entirely going on.

"Where was it?"

"I..." Y/n looked back at him once again, "That's the problem, Alastor. Nifty said... well, she said she found it in your room."

"In my room?" Alastor repeated, feigning confusion, a hand to his chest in mock surprise.

Y/n nodded.

"In your night table drawer."

They must have known him better than he thought, have seen the flash of sudden anger in his eyes or something like that, maybe he had tense his body. Whatever had ticked them off, they continued.

"She didn't open it. Nift said it was open and went to close it and just... spotted it in there so don't get mad at her, she didn't do anything wrong."

Alastor stood in silence, watching Y/n carefully.

"I just... Look, I'm not mad, I am just confused. Why was it in your room, did you take it from me?"

A shock of nerves fluttered in Alastor's stomach. The heat rushed to his cheeks and he looked away, a hand flying instinctually to his collar and tugging at it just the slightest bit, as if the room was too hot. It was all the answer Y/n needed.

"Why?"

Alastor turned back to Y/n and nearly stumbled back a few steps when he realized how much closer they had brought themselves to him. Nearly every other time, he was the one to bridge the distance, to step into their personal space. His breath caught in his throat, a sort of thrill flooding his mind.

"I... I..."

He had stuttered. Alastor didn't stutter. He had never stuttered, not even when he was alive.

"You..?" Y/n prompted, leaning forward slightly.

His mind was reeling. He couldn't tell if that was their goal, secretly, if they had finally realized the effect they had on him and begun to use it to their advantage. Alastor looked away again.

"It was..."

"You knew it was my favorite. Why did you take it?"

Fuck.

They were upset, maybe even angry. Alastor had seen them mad before but it had never been directed towards him. Normally, he would relish in the wrath of another but Y/n's wrath? Fuck. He realized right then and there, he would rather die.

"Husk." he admitted at last, his hands now fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, his face flushed.

Alastor dared a glance at Y/n. Their brow was furrowed.

"Husk?"

"Yeah. Husk."

"I... why Husk? Did he dare you? Did he... I... what?"

Whatever feelings they had previously held had been replaced by pure confusion. Alastor could handle confusion. The situation at large was still unwelcome and rather untenable but, at least there was the confusion.

"He..." Alastor cleared his throat, brave enough to meet their eyes again at last, "He noticed."

"Noticed.... oh."

"Yeah."

They fell silent. This wasn't a thing Alastor had felt since he was very young. There was a wild animal in his chest. In this moment, he didn't just look like a deer, he was one and Y/n was the hunter with their gun trained on the spot between his eyes.

"It wa-"

"Did you also take it off the shelves all over the neighborhood?"

They had always been smart, smarter than he gave them credit for. Alastor grimaced, nodding slowly.

"Alastor, why did it bother you so much? Is it illegal to match my nails to my lips? Does it go against your... your weird ass deontological code?"

"No, it's just... it was... fuck!"

Y/n had never heard him curse before. A hand flew to Alastor's head, he took a deep breath.

"Alastor, I-"

"It was for me, okay? I... I didn't want anyone else noticing. It was just for me."

Y/n looked somehow even more confused as he lowered his hand once again. The releif that had accompanied the admission was greatly outweighed by his anxiety as he waited for their response.

"But Angel noticed too? Before Husk?"

"That's different." Alastor sighed, "He... You... I..."

"Alastor, what's going on?"

There was concern now, lacing their voice in its gentle vines. It almost made everything worse.

"I like you, okay!? There. Are you happy now!?"

He didn't know why he was yelling. Y/n's eyes went wide.

"You... like me? Like, like like me?"

He glared at them and they put their hands up in surrender.

"Just trying to clarify the situation!"

Alastor rolled his eyes, crossing his arms protectively over his chest.

"Yes. I... like like you or... whatever nonsense you just said. Are you happy now?"

It was a stand off, each training a metaphorical pistol at the other. Y/n was the one to finally break.

"Yes." they curtly replied, crossing their arms to mirror his position, "I'll... I'll let you get back to work now."

Someone had driven a nail right through Alastor's chest and into his heart. He watched their retreating form as they opened the door and slipped out into the hallway. Just as it was about to fall shut, they miraculously stuck a foot between the closing door and its frame, peeking their head back into the room.

"Just so you know: if you asked me out on a date," they began, their eyes flicking up to his from where they had previously been fixed on the floor, "I'd say yes."

-----

A/N Ant is a pretty common nickname for Anthony in NYC (where I am from and where I'm pretty sure Angel is supposed to be from). Yes, I will be using it in another fic I am working on too (its part two of Unexpected (Vox x Reader). Also,, deontology is when you have a strict set of ethical rules/maxims you stick by no matter what (Kant is a deontologist).

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

[lostintransist]

Liaison - Chapter 2 - Da’ Fuck is a Roadman

The worst part about your job had to be the commute. The trip to the office each day took nearly an hour. Between the two trains, one bus, and a half-mile walk any energy you might have had been used up. You did not mention to anyone on the team where you lived and that you refused to buy a car. Mostly you were sure that your years of driving on the right side of the road and turning on red lights would lead to you killing someone in a vehicular collision and would rather avoid that.

The old building you shared with three other tenets creaked every time the wind blew and your small studio in the basement required two dehumidifiers to keep mold from overtaking the space. The jaw-cracking yawn overtook you as you stepped off the bus. You make it as far as the front door before the exhaustion becomes too much. You manage to brush your teeth, rip off your bra, and toss on an overlarge shirt you stole from an ex before sleep steals you away.

The weekend slips by too quickly for your liking. You can see the emails piling up in the inbox of your work email, anything truly urgent would CC Kate who worked nonstop. You stop into a cafe on your way home from the weekend market, happy to start to recognize the barista behind the counter. Sunday afternoons you did your shopping for the week and rewarded yourself with a scone and a warm latte. The day is capped off with a video call with a friend in Maryland and by eight you are asleep.

You wake early, 4 AM the alarm goes off to make it to the office for your 6:15 call. You dress simply in jeans, rain boots, and a long-sleeved green shirt. Starting on the walk for the bus you clock the young man posted up at the edge of an alley. You keep an eye on him but don’t change course as you continue closer to where he stands.

When you get within ten feet of him he jumps out and mumbles some words at you.

Tilting your head at him you try and process the sounds you heard.

“Wanna run that by me again kid?”

He mumbles the same words, louder and makes a vaguely threatening gesture.

“Yeah, I got nothing. Good luck with whatever you need,” you step into the road to continue past him.

Mumbler jumps in front of you, shouting now.

“I’m trying to rob ya you stupid American!”

“Why didn’t you say that back there?” Hooking a thumb over your shoulder to point to where this interaction started. “Also you don’t have a gun, do you even have a knife?”

As he starts to sputter the youth in his face is evident.

“Okay, so how does this shtick work?” gesturing to all of him, you continued. “Do you just walk up to people and demand their wallets or what?”

“Yeah, give me all your money!”

Mentioning wallets seemed to re-energize him.

“No thank you,” you start walking again. If you don’t make up the lost time you will delay yourself at least fifteen minutes and might need to call a cab to make it to work for your phone call.

❈❈❈

The hardest part of your job, second only to dealing with people who didn’t understand your role, would be the lack of consistency of who might be in the office from day to day. Harold hadn’t been at his desk when you finally rolled in, already accepting the call you had scheduled for this morning in the lobby. You waved to the one person at a computer as you dumped your things and asked for a moment of patience from everyone on the call as your headphones connected.

The call dragged on for nearly an hour as you stayed on mute replying to emails. When a question could not be answered by anyone else you jumped into the conversation, explaining you had three options for a team that would fit their needs. At this point, you would need a timeline and payment. Confirming the email address took another five minutes, back and forth. When the call wrapped up the clock ticked closer to 9 AM.

Letting your head slam against the desk you took a series of deep breaths. A message tone dinged from your computer. Looking up you found a message from someone named Roach.

>Calls that bad?

Turning you catch sight of the person who had been in the office when you arrived.

“You Roach?”

>That’s me.

Masked and covered from head to toe, the man looked as innocent as a bloodied tiger. You saw a lot of men like that lately. Something about this job had them covering up more than a nun in a convent.

“Okay, I’m still meeting everyone. And no? The call wasn’t that bad but I ended up being late because some fucker I think tried to rob me?” After explaining the whole situation this morning to Roach he sends you a message through the chatting platform.

>You met a roadman.

“Da’ fuck is a roadman?” Incredulity had become a familiar state since moving to England.

Staring at Roach you wait for his typed response. He looks at you, makes a face beneath his mask, bobs his head from shoulder to shoulder, sighs, and puts his fingers on the keys.

>A roadman is what you might call a mugger in the US.

“No, a mugger has a gun or a knife and can back up his threats. That child told me to give him all my money and couldn’t even find a decent threat to make me comply. All the bastard did was make me late.”

Roach’s only reply to this is a hearty shrug.

A voice from behind has both you and Roach spinning in place.

“Liaison I need a contract confirmed,” someone barked at you.

The demand hits wrong after the roadman incident and the achingly long call. You turn to see a large man, again in a mask, staring at you from near the door. This mask looked hard, the upper face half of a skull. This must be Ghost; Kate had warned you about him.

“I must have missed the question in that statement, care to try again?”

Roach’s brows nearly touch his hairline as he quickly averts his gaze.

The tall, broad Lieutenant moved faster than his shape would indicate he could. He looms over you, hard skull and eye black leaving no color beyond the whites of his eyes.

“Did I stutter Liaison?”

“No, but you might need to if you try to tell me what to do without asking again.” You flick a nail against his mask. “Now if you’ll excuse me I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Slipping from beneath Ghost’s shoulders you make it two steps before his hand wraps around your bicep. Snapping back to look at him you contemplate the wisdom of punching him.

“Ghost! Let her go,” Price’s command splits the air.

He lets you go with exaggerated care. You flip him the bird, hiding the move from Price using your body. You stalk up to Price who is staring Ghost down over your shoulder.

“Did he hurt you?” Price asks as you draw near. He wasn’t Ghost’s captain but had recently been promoted to work directly below the elusive Sheppard. You tried to keep up on who worked under who but with so many moving parts you had to check your spreadsheets every time you had a question.

“No, I’m fine. But next time the meathead needs something from me tell him to send an email and to use all his manners.” You sweep past Price and head for the kitchen. Might as well start some bread so you can beat something up.

That second interaction with Ghost solidified the tone of your relationship. The same day he threatened you with his size and laid hands on you he found you in the kitchen. You pulled the tray of rolls out of the oven when he spoke.

“I’ll take one of those.”

Without pausing to consider you shut the oven softly and tip the hot pan over, spilling the steaming buns onto the floor. You don’t even try to make it look like an accident.

“Whoops. Guess you forgot to ask for something you wanted.”

You ignored the fuming soldier behind you as you set the hot pan on the stove to cool and cover the dough and place it in the fridge for later. You gave it an hour before checking back to find the kitchen clear and cleaned up the rolls from the floor.

Three weeks later you are pulled from an important email by a fist in your hair. Ghost growls in your face.

“What the hell did you agree to with Sarcosis?”

A wince you can’t stop slips. “Hair pulling is a kinky thing for me Ghost, you ready to follow up on this offer?”

Disgusted, he lets you go. Then Soap is there, pushing between you two. Rubbing the back of your head you decide to answer. He did ask a question after all.

“Sarcosis needs to borrow one man, someone who can play spotter for one of their snipers. Job is less than three days. I wrangled a favor to borrowing one of their men if we ever need ‘em.”

“Why take the job?” Soap peers over his shoulder, hand still firmly placed on Ghost.

“All Keith is asking for is an impartial set of eyes to confirm a kill. They aren’t on the no-fly list. Do they need to be?”

“No-fly list?” This question comes from Ghost.

“Yeah, the no-fly list.” You pop open a sticky note from your screen, enlarging both the note and the words you let the men read the list you got from Kate. “Taking jobs with these guys won’t fly, hence the no-fly list.”

Ghost takes a deep breath, tucking the demon’s demeanor back behind his vest. Soap lets his hand drop back to his sides.

“Now if all this excitement is over I am going back to my emails,” turning your back to the men you return your screen to normal and type away at your ongoing email.

Roach sends you a message that you see but don’t reply to.

>Sarcosis nearly got Ghost killed on their last job, might want to flag them for your no-fly list.

Ghost and Soap stand behind you for an uncomfortably long time. When they eventually move you pull your headphones on and settle into the chaos of never-ending emails.

❈❈❈

It took you six months to figure out the rules for jobs. You had asked Kate, repeatedly. Each time she gave an answer about whether to accept or reject, you would question her. Why accept this job and not this one? Over and over you asked and the answer always amounted to a feeling. Vibes. You took notes on every call and Kate’s decision since she couldn’t articulate why to accept one job over another. She had worked with the 141 for so long that she had a sense for these things.

Those six months were grueling, but you found a pattern. The price of a job could be relied upon to weed out anything the team wouldn’t take. The numbers broke down to roughly £20,000 per man per job. The more complicated the explanation the more guys you figured would be needed. That rule of thumb would be right more often than not.

The guys would take rescue missions but were better equipped to handle situations where there would be no witnesses. They worked well with teams from most companies and governments but there were a few that several men refused to work with again. It was a small list but the fact you recognized each name on sight often gave you a queasy sensation in your stomach.

Enough of the team would submit requests to take one job or another you had to start a running list of preferences and skills. Pinning down hard skills turned into a bit of an issue so you had a self-reported list and a list of skills reported by others. The sheer number of interconnected spreadsheets and the random formulas learned to create boggled your mind. Once one of the members of the accounting team, Doreen, saw your massive spreadsheet she collected the general information known about the office to add to your knowledge pool. She also helped you break out the information about each member into a separate file that fed into your master sheet. Doreen, for as old as she was, had a vast understanding of spreadsheets. The search function would become a new god in your role.

Chapter 1 |

Masterlist

@nicroyal02 Chapter 26 is up on A03

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter Warmers day 19: Holiday magic. Maxiel, hurt/comfort. About 1k. (yes I know I am a couple days late. yes I also know they saw each other for padel, just...ignore it.)

When Daniel goes to bed, he's in Perth. He is in his bed, with his blankets, his white noise machine, his podcast, and his loneliness. He is a little too sad and a little too warm, thinking about all the ways his life has changed, is still changing. Thinking about the messages he has been ignoring, the calls he hasn't picked up.

When Daniel wakes up, none of those things are true.

When Daniel wakes up, he is in a different bed, just a light blanket covering him, with the distant sound of traffic filtering in through the windows, city lights slicing the shadows through the half closed curtains. He is a little confused, but comfortably warm.

And there are arms wrapped around his waist.

It's that really that makes him freeze, breath stuttering in his chest. Sometimes, with all the traveling, he does end up forgetting where he fell asleep. And even if he never got quite this confused, it wouldn't be too weird to be in an unfamiliar room, but there hasn't been anyone in his bed for weeks, so Daniel is pretty sure he would remember that.

Especially because whoever is spooning him is almost certainly male, broad chest pressed against his back, the slightest scratch of a scruffy beard against his neck.

He doesn't know what's happening. He doesn't know where he is, who he's with, and his heart rate is steadily picking up when whoever is holding him sighs, tugging him closer.

"Are you awake?"

And oh. Daniel knows this voice. Daniel knows the rasp of it, deeper with sleep.

But how in the hell did he end up in Max's bed?

"Stop panicking, Daniel, everything is of course fine," Max murmurs, moving his head to nuzzle his shoulder, one of his hands rubbing gentle circles on his hip.

Like this is normal. Like this is something they do, wake up together, in Max's bed. When Daniel was just in Perth, had not answered Max's calls in weeks, and the last time they had seen each other Daniel had gotten tears and snot all over Max's team kit, sweaty in the Singapore heat.

He tries to breathe, tries to will his heart to slow down, but all he manages is a small, breathless whine, as a shudder travels down his spine.

He feels untethered, shaken and lost, emotions mixing and bubbling over, threatening to spill, making a mess, like everything else in his life.

"Daniel, hey, no."

Concern drips from Max's words, and Daniel lets himself be turned around and tucked into his chest, hiding his face into Max's shirt. Lets Max breathe deep and exaggerated, trying to get Daniel to copy him. Lets Max murmur in his ear, careful and tender, almost the same tone of voice he uses for when his cats are spooked.

"I'm sorry," Max says, contrite, when Daniel's breathing is back to almost normal, even if he's still hiding into Max's chest. "I should have probably given you more space."

Maybe the reasonable answer to that would be a nod, since it was pretty confusing and scary to wake up in Max's arms, but at the mention of space all Daniel can do is tangle his fingers harder into Max's shirt, pressing closer.

He doesn't know how he's here, doesn't know what kind of miracle teleported him from his sad and lonely bed to Max's hug, doesn't know if he even deserves to be here, after avoiding him for so long, but now that he is here, he doesn't want any fucking space. Now that he's being held, talked to so softly, he realises how stupid he'd been, to shut everyone one like this, especially Max.

Max, who had been by his side on the worst weekend of his life. Max who had called, over and over, trying to stay inside of Daniel's walls, instead of being shut out. Max, who apparently held no grudges for all of it, taking care of him without questions.

He doesn't realise his breathing has picked up again until Max shushes him softly, rubbing his back with big, gentle hands.

"It's okay, you are okay, I am here now. You are here now."

"What happened?" Daniel finds himself ask, half choked, muffled by his unwillingness to move away.

Max's hands stutter on his back for a second as he shrugs, almost dislodging Daniel from his position.

"I am not sure. You appeared in my bed, and you did not even wake up. And you looked very tired, so of course I didn't wake you. I think..." Max pauses, uncertain, but then carries on. Never one to not go for the gap. "I think maybe I was thinking very hard about you, and you maybe needed to be here. Or not there."

As if the universe would be that simple. Daniel needed Max, so Daniel was with Max.

Daniel knows nothing worked that way. You don't get everything you need just because you want it, and you don't get everything you want because you need it.

And yet, here he is. Where he needs and wants to be, despite denying it for so long.

"Christmas magic," he says, forcing a rough chuckle out, feeling Max laugh a little with him.

"Yes," he agrees, as if Daniel hadn't been joking, trying to build up at least some of the fragile walls that Max had knocked down so easily, just with a hug.

"I think we should go back to sleep," Max adds after a while, still rubbing Daniel's back, "and then tomorrow I can lend you my plane, or we can talk about why you are sad."

Daniel flinches, still surprised, even after all these years, by Max's ability to cut straight to the core of things, no nice words to beat around the bush.

"I'm not..." he starts, but Max cuts him off, making his mouth snap shut.

"Don't lie to me, Daniel."

His voice is still warm but there's steel behind it, an order Daniel doesn't want to defy. So Daniel doesn't.

He doesn't know what time it is, how much he's already slept, but he's still tired, and he's comfortable and warm in a way he hasn't been in forever.

And Max knows him, and Max has got him, and Max won't leave.

So Daniel closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.

[dekusleftsock]

Me personally, I’m a very big fan of how Horikoshi handled his themes around forgiveness. I love that he really hammers in that forgiveness is a choice that someone can or cannot make, and that neither of those decisions are necessarily “wrong” or “harmful”, that they’re just that. Choices.

And I realized just how much I enjoyed how he handles this because of these leaks. Like him choosing to never forgive Shigaraki for what he’s done, yet wanting to end the suffering as much as possible I feel really speaks to an experience I could never put into words. It’s so viscerally human to be angry, happy, sad; it’s human to forgive, it’s human to not. It’s human to empathize with someone you fundamentally feel shouldn’t be empathized for, and yet it is the single most prominent structure of ancient human societies. We live to empathize, it’s why we have a dog in our house, or we help heal a stranger back to health; and I don’t necessarily think is what “makes us human” bc I feel that excludes people who don’t (because they do exist and nothing is wrong with them for not doing so), but I think it does speak to a very common feeling. It’s normal to want revenge, or to be angry, or to not forgive, but it’s also perfectly normal to want to end the suffering from its source.

That’s also a prominent feature of the Todoroki family, and it’s also what made me so angry about the interpretations surrounding it. There’s nothing wrong with Fuyumi or Natsuo to respond differently to their shared father’s abuse, they’re normal and expected ways to handle one’s inner turmoil. There is healing in forgiving someone, that’s a perfectly truthful idea. But what’s also a way to heal is to simply not let someone matter in your life, you can simultaneously be angry for what they’ve done…and be perfectly fulfilled/healed.

Horikoshi isn’t telling you to forgive bad people, he’s telling you that there’s a reason behind every bad action, that empathy and shared humanity is the single most integral part to a healthy society.

And I love this EVEN MORE because Midoriya Izuku: Rising isn’t even about Izuku, it’s about how everyone else has brought him here, now. That we are one people, one society—Izuku may be the driving horse but he stands as a symbol of our shared humanity in this moment.

I wish I could find the officials rn but I’m gonna have to interpret this given what it is.

Ochako’s choice to “not wipe your slate clean” almost feels less like a “I can’t forgive you” and more like a “society won’t forgive you” statement.

Where Izuku’s or Natsuo’s choice to not forgive someone who has hurt them was a personal decision, this was more of a decision to empathize with Himiko, maybe even forgive her. I can’t help but notice that this was much more of a confession/declaration of affection for someone who has done bad things, than it was about forgiveness and mistakes.

It almost feels more like the bkdk apology if I’m honest. Both of which never have a “I won’t ever forgive you for this” statement, more like they avoid it in its entirety. Same with Rei and Endeavors conversations.

Because it is the victims choice to forgive or not forgive someone. They have as much a right to do so as anyone else.

I guess that’s why I always hated the whole “Izuku shouldn’t forgive Katsuki” take, it’s a very literal commentary on the very thing Horikoshi has written is wrong. It’s wrong to try to tell someone how they should or shouldn’t have reacted to something, you are taking away their integrity. To a certain extent you are infantilizing their ability to make choices for themself.

So it’s for this reason that my love for this series shoots to the sky at this “I won’t forgive you” moment. It’s like Izukus guilt has been lifted, that he has allowed himself to be angry or bitter at someone for wronging him or someone he loves. The mask has fallen, this is it; Izuku and Tenko, and he is being honest of his feelings.

That’s what I love most—the honesty, the anger, the relief, the love, and that these are his choices. No one can take that away from him. Not you, not I, not us.