#I also would have like to write this a bit better but it's 4am and I'm hungry!

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Okay while it’s late and we’re sharing headcanons

I kinda maybe sorta have a silly and somewhat elaborate little set of scenarios that play out in my head- Sparrow-centric cause this is me we’re talking about... And I guess it goes something like this:

When little Hero starts getting into anime, Sparrow absolutely draws her favourite characters for her, and he’s quite good at it. She doesn’t ask him to do this nearly as often as she gets older, since it starts to feel a bit embarrassing, but she’s kept every single drawing he’s ever made for her.

Cut to the present/a bit into the future. Taylor (”woah Taylor’s part of this??” hell yes), who’s gotten into the habit of inviting himself over, ends up coming across some of these old drawings. He asks Hero about them, and she explains that her dad drew them for her. Cut ever so slightly further into the future, and Taylor presents a very surprised Sparrow a long, long list of commissions. He assures Sparrow that his mom will pay for them, but Sparrow doesn’t charge. Actually, it’s kind of nice having something creative to do with his time, and it reminds him of when Hero was younger and they used to do this, so he’s happy to oblige.

Sparrow doesn’t charge, but he actually does find himself talking on the phone with Cassandra. See, as aforementioned Taylor is over quite a bit now, and whether it is to hang out with Normal, Hero, or both of them Sparrow is never certain (now that he thinks about it, Norm and Hero seem to get along much better these days)- but Sparrow in my head is 100% the kind of parent that would make little fucking trays of snacks for his kids and their friends. Eventually, he catches on to the fact that Taylor is a bit of a picky eater- perhaps both for sensory reasons as well as from having braces. Well, no big deal, his kids have always been that way too! So, he calls Cassandra to ask her about Taylor’s preferences/habits… And Cass being Cass, always on top of things and being so close with her son, writes up a long-ass list for him.

And it’s nice, having someone new to talk to, especially someone who doesn’t have a problem with their kid interacting with yours. For the first time in a long time, Sparrow’s made a new friend!

Taylor’s lists have gotten longer. Sparrow doesn’t question it. Taylor doesn’t say anything on the matter either- Hero asked him not to tell when she first added some requests of her own to his list. And… Some items on the list are unaccounted for altogether, almost as though someone has been adding to it from afar. Weird.

[k-hotchoisan]

b4 anything I js wanna say that I appreciate ur writing so much like they're always so fucking good!!

can we hace a fic / oneshot / wtv of wooyoung inspired by some twt link?? it's of ur choice !!!

ilysm and happy new years eve!!

Happy new year to you too darlin! Thanks for being patient and also for giving my fics so much love!

Here’s one twt link for you 🩷

I love you so much too 🥹🩷

to the side

<Wooyoung x fem!reader>

Wooyoung finds in himself in a predicament when he’s asked to wake you up—to fuck you or not. Of course he does.

part two here 💖

Genres/warnings: perv&DILF!wooyoung, wooyoung is your friend’s rich uncle, unprotected sex, quickie(kind of), light choking, cream pies, slight somoniphilia, kinda filthy LMAO

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs

You lie on your friend’s bed, forcing yourself not to fall asleep on her soft mattress, especially when her blankets are all over you.

“Don’t fall asleep yet. Dinner is gonna be ready in a bit”, she teases, poking your cheek. You grumble slightly, staring up at your friend. “See, that’s what happens when you’re binging that stupid romance reality show till 4am.”

You stick your tongue out playfully. Your friend rolls her eyes.

“But for real though, dinner is gonna be pretty busy later tonight.”

You sit up slightly. “And why’s that?”

“My brother is coming back home, and you know how much of a crush he has on you. The moment he knew you were coming to the dinner, he booked a flight back.”

You blink, pretty unamused. Sure, your friend’s brother was a looker, and you were flattered that he apparently had eyes for you. But there was someone else. Someone, who from the first moment you saw him, would leave you squeezing your thighs a little-

“-and then Uncle Wooyoung is coming over as well.”

You bite your lower lip at the sound of his name. It was such a messed up thing—your friend trying to hook you up with her brother, but there was only one person who caught your eye ever since the camping trip her family organised—Wooyoung.

Since then, you wonder when her family would invite him over again. He was bright and had such an addictive personality when you interacted with him. You pray that he never heard the hammering sound of your heartbeat whenever he bumped his knees against yours, whenever he smiled at you, when he held your chin to steady your face as he wiped the sweat off your face after you helped out to cook dinner with him.

The tension had always been there. It’s just whether he had realised it as well. And the thought of him feeling the same way? Gods, your heart would never beat like a normal person’s, not when he seems to find joy in teasing you when he’s around the vicinity.

“Jesus, y/n, your face is red. Thinking about my brother much?” She giggles.

You cup your cheeks, feeling the heat flush on your cheeks at the thought of Wooyoung, before you bury your face with her blankets. It was annoying how your friend was wholly convinced that you felt the same for her brother, despite the lack of interest you reciprocated to her whenever he was mentioned. Nonetheless, you think that it’s better than her finding out that you have a fat crush on her uncle.

Well, she doesn’t need to know.

The conversation soon dissolves into a comfortable silence. Thirty minutes later, your friend leaves you to fall into a deep slumber as she slips off her bed to help set up the dinner table.

Wooyoung steps into his brother’s mansion, fitting his sunglasses into his raven hair. His niece runs to him and greets him cheerfully, and he ruffles her hair, earning a pout from her.

“Your brother’s not back yet?” Wooyoung asks, his eyes scanning the table. His niece shakes her head. “The traffic is bad from what he told me like fifteen minutes ago. He told us to start without him.

Right, y/n is here too.”

And that’s when Wooyoung’s ears perked up.

“Of course she is.”

He feels his heart soar. From the moment he had met you at his brother’s dinner party he held for Christmas a year ago, he couldn’t tear his eyes off you. And it only sprouts and grows when you had joined his niece’s camping trip Wooyoung’s brother organised for the long weekend. He knows it’s sinful but he can’t help it.

At first he thinks your reactions when he lightly flirts with you are adorable—the light pink tint that reaches your face as he teases you, before you pout and swipe him off. Then, it’s the secretive glances you would steal, thinking that he doesn’t notice—but of course he does. And finally, what almost sends Wooyoung into a spiral is when your gaze meets his as you lick the icing cream off your fingers from the cake on your friend’s birthday (it was cheesy as fuck too). He probably never had a pure thought since.

His niece’s light tug on his black polo sleeve snaps him out of his thoughts, and potentially a dangerously growing erection, as he turns to his niece with a forced smile.

“Could you wake y/n up for me? She’s in my room. I honestly did not want to let her take a nap since dinner’s nearing but I felt bad so I just let her sleep.”

Wooyoung swallows hard. Right. It’s just a quick task of waking you up from slumber right? Nothing more than that. He nods quickly, then disappearing into the staircase.

Your friend pauses for a moment, a little too late when she realises that she forgot to mention that you had your pants off the last she left the room. But the thought is scrubbed away when her dad calls her over.

Oh well.

Wooyoung’s mind starts floating to how you’d look asleep—peaceful? Probably very pretty since he was already entranced by how you’d look awake. Nonetheless, he wouldn’t know until he pushed the door open, and he hates the fact that his cock is already straining against his pants at the thought of you sprawled out in bed.

He knocks the door once, twice, before he announces that he’s coming in, and then he pushes the door open. Wooyoung’s breath is caught in his throat.

You’re there, definitely, breathing softly with the most calm expression, deep in slumber, covered in the seemingly endless amount of blankets. Wooyoung calls out your name once, twice as well, before he nears the bed. He tugs against the thick blankets, pretending to be unaffected by your soft groans which is evidently going right to his cock, that is, until what gets revealed to him under the sheets.

Your bare legs and thighs all out for him, only clad in a pair of pink panties hugging your hips, your padded top that had rode up, your tummy exposed to the cold air of the air conditioning. Wooyoung feels like it’s a reward just as much as it’s a punishment. His strings of rationale slowly continue to snap as he watches you shift in your sleep, the way you squeeze your thighs as more soft noises come out of you. He makes the daring decision to climb into the bed with you, careful not to wake you up with any sudden movements.

But you stir slightly, your hands reaching out to tangle the blankets in your fingers as you groan from the cold.

Not realising you had fisted Wooyoung’s shirt, tugging him down onto you, and Wooyoung yelps in surprise as his body weight falls onto you, alongside the blankets. You squeal, your eyes snapping open from the confusion, the smell of Wooyoung’s cologne flooding your nose.

Wooyoung is above you, more specifically, his lips are barely inches away from yours.

His thumb trails down to your lips, tugging at your bottom lip slightly. Any ounce of self control that remained in him has completely dissolved when he watches your eyes slip to glance down at his lips before it darts back to his eyes. That is when it’s clear as day that he wants you all to himself, and that he wants to fucking ruin you.

“Open for me, darling”, he coaxes, and you do, so easily for him, letting his thumb slip past your lips. The sleep is slowly being replaced by lust, overflowing lust that you’ve been holding back, trying to seal tight, now leaking through the holes Wooyoung has poked effortlessly.

His lips engulf yours—hungry and so soft. He tastes like heaven. You’ve been dreaming of just a taste of them, and he’s giving you the full course meal. It takes you mere seconds to melt into him and the kiss, your hands wrapping around his neck as you pull him deeper and deeper into this sinful intoxication. Your hands dig into Wooyoung’s hair, unintentionally tugging slightly, the sound that comes out Wooyoung only pools in your panties.

When he pulls back, his breathing is shallow, basking in the way your eyes look glazed out just from making out. It makes his greed look justifiable.

“I’d love to take my time to send you to heavens, darling, but your friend and her family is calling you for dinner”, he whispers, his voice sounding like honey, melting in your ears. Wooyoung believes he still has an ounce of rationale left at least.

And it’s completely obliterated when he hears you say “but it’s such a waste when I’m already looking like this for you.”

Wooyoung’s fingers are at the waistband of your panties, but he doesn’t pull it off. Instead he tugs your panties to the side, taking a sharp inhale at the wetness pooling out of your pussy.

He unbuttons his trousers, pulling his cock out, already leaking with precum. He’s failing at trying to compose himself, because he doesn’t waste time to shift your panties to the side and slide his cock right into you.

His hips snap against yours, and he holds your legs up. His mind is melting at the feeling of how warm your pussy is hugging him, how you’re completely undone by him, your arm over your mouth so you don’t make any noise, only soft moans leaving your lips.

“Dirty little girl, letting your friend’s uncle fuck you stupid like this”, Wooyoung mutters, watching the way his cock sinks and disappears into your wet cunt, fitting him perfectly when he hears you whimper beneath him. “Right on her fucking bed as well.”

“So good Wooyoung. You feel so full in me”, you gasp every time you feel his cockhead hit your cervix.

Everything about this is so wrong. But the truth was that it was unavoidable—it was in due time that the tension between the both of you snapped, and who could Wooyoung thank more than his niece, who sent him up, thinking it was harmless to simply just wake you up.

The way you’re loving every second of it makes Wooyoung think that it’s all the more worth, to fill you up so good, to taint you, to send you to paradise—even if it was gonna last for a moment, for now.

Mostly because he’s already planning to bring you home after this and keep you all for himself.

“Gods, your pretty little pussy was fuckin made for me”, Wooyoung hisses, whenever your cunt sucks him in. Wooyoung is definitely a noisy partner, and he knows that very well, and so he’s biting his cheeks, trying to stop himself from whining. It does the job, but he almost lets a couple of moans slip when he feels you clench around him every few seconds.

Your eyes are rolled back, one hand clasped over your mouth, and that makes Wooyoung wonder how much filthy words, noise, could leave your lips when he has you all for himself. You’re crying his name like a mantra, keeping your eyes on him despite your eyes gradually watering from the sheer pleasure, and Wooyoung almost breaks at the way you’re looking up at him as he fucks you dumb.

You love it. So fucking much.

Wooyoung’s hands snake to your throat, lightly squeezing you, his cock twitching as his orgasm taunts him. “You’re gonna be my good girl and take my cum, won’t you?”

You nod almost instantaneously, even when Wooyoung has his fingers wrapped around your throat, even when your cunt is fluttering around him, desperate to keep him, and especially when you realise you’re fucking head over heels for Jung Wooyoung.

“That’s my girl.”

Wooyoung stills in you, spurting cum right into your sopping pussy, before he snaps your panties right back into position, then diving right back to your lips for another hungry kiss, feeling your thighs shake pathetically against him.

Then he pulls you up with him to leave the bed, handing you your shorts.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting, darling”, he says casually, watching you as you hastily pull up your shorts, his heart fluttering when he feels your soft hands on his as he leads you out of your friend’s room.

His fingers that curl around yours slowly lets go when the dinning hall comes into view.

“That took you awhile”, your friend’s mother says, untying her apron.

“Yeah, what took you so long?” Your friend pokes, already taking a seat at the table.

“She’s a heavy sleeper”, Wooyoung explains, his side glance meeting yours as he prides his playful smile. “Had to find ways to get her to wake up.” You swallow hard.

Your friend scoffs in amusement.

You take the seat opposite your friend, where Wooyoung immediately takes the one beside you, which draws a confused expression from your friend, which you know is because she wants her brother to be seated there, but she doesn’t say anything. Her attention is being swept away when the door bell rings and she rushes off to greet her brother.

Wooyoung leans into you, his low voice reverberating in your ears, not doing anything helpful to prevent his cum from leaking right onto your panties.

“If you hold my cum in your tight little pussy like a good girl, I’ll breed two more loads into you when we get back”, he smiles, giving you a pat on your thigh before he pulls back, leaving your heart pounding in your ears. You force yourself to stand and smile as your friend’s brother walks in, his eyes brightening when he sees you, but all you’re thinking is your pussy just being full of Wooyoung’s warm cum, and how much more he’s about to pound into you once this agonising dinner is over.

[catboywizard]

heyyy hot takes at 4am time but like what is wrong with people?? we just received really huge awful news, let people have some time to process???

i just saw someone saying anyone upset about the neil gaiman thing because of what it means for good omens, something they loved deeply, is a “fucking monster”

like, good for you for never having anything you love be revealed to be made by an awful person, i guess?

of course we should be supporting and believing the victims, but people can be upset about things for more than one reason? and talking about one of those things doesn’t negate the other? (like right now, i’m specifically talking about the situation in the context of assholes online acting like they’re so much better then fans who are upset, and that doesn’t mean i think we shouldn’t be centering the victims and what they’ve gone through)

it took me a really long time to (mostly) get over harry potter because it was a huge part of me and something i cared about very deeply. even as a victim of jkr’s vitriol myself. now im at the point where thinking about the situation only hurts a little bit, but it took me like a year or even longer to get there. the neil gaiman news is less than 24 hours old at this point.

just, be nicer to good omens fans right now please. mourning something you loved so much it felt like a part of you doesn’t make you automatically selfish.

and if this kind of thing hasn’t happened to you yet, just know that any human is capable of terrible things like this, and that means any of your favorite creators. if one of them ever gets revealed to be a horrible person, i hope people are nicer to you about it then they are being right now.

note: i also saw a couple people saying stuff like “well yall should have dropped him ages ago when he was revealed to be a zionist/be creepy towards younger fans/write women characters really badly/etc.” and like yeah, that’s not great, but i didn’t know any of that stuff? i feel like a lot of discourse would be solved if people just remembered that the worlds a big place and just cause you know something doesn’t mean everyone does. it’s not a moral failing to have never been informed about something (also, i haven’t personally found any actual evidence of him being a zionist, just people claiming he is)

[citricacidprince]

...Mable stuck with bill timestuck, you say? I wonder if that would go better or worse than dipper being alone with bill.

Here to mention that I somehow only noticed your signature when it was next to fiddleford, and thought you were (rightly) calling him a prince. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to connect the dots.

Haha you’re not the first person to mistake my signature for actual writing so dw you’re good lol!

And as for my thoughts of Mabel and Bill in a Timestuck AU,,,

I may or may not have written a drabble in a mutuals DMs a few years back about a confrontation between Mabel and Bill and the aftermath of it! I also may or may not have just fixed it up and straight up doubled the word count haha-

Since I’m feeling a tad bit brave I’m gonna post the drabble under the cut for anyone to read along with two doodles I’ve done for it, I only ask that yall be nice to me since I don’t write very often and know I ain’t that good at it hehe-

Also I’m not lying this is like,,, 4707 words… I got possessed to write this haha

Before I begin!!! Important!!!

Trigger Warnings: Choking/Asphyxiation, harm to children, minor descriptions of small cuts and minuscule amounts of blood, verbal planning of commiting a murder/killing

(if I missed any please tell me!)

With that out of the way here's my stupidly long Timestuck AU drabble that's been on my back burner for years! The only thing you really need to know is that the twins time-traveled back after Weirdmagenddon of their own volition. Dipper is with Stan and Mabel is with Ford and Fiddleford. Mabel has been staying with the two for almost a month now and Fiddleford is the only one who knows she's a time traveler.

With the stage set, please enjoy!

💫—————————————🚩

It’s late into the night, Mabel is tossing and turning and can't go to sleep. Her mind is spiraling as she overthinks and worries about Bill, her brother, her Grunkles, everything. So at about 1AM she decides that she’s not going to bed anytime soon and gets up off the living room couch which she has called her new bed while staying with her younger Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford.

Despite it being the dead of night Mabel thought it’d be a good idea to just make something food related in hopes it would tire her out. Also, she figured it would be a fun idea since she knows Stanford is most likely still awake and probably hasn’t eaten in a while. She could make him something easy and sweet, like a batch of cookies, and give them to him as a gift! Who doesn’t like 1AM cookies?! If she doesn’t have the stuff to make that, eh, she’ll figure it out and make something else!

A bonus to this is that if Ford says he’s not hungry, a bold faced lie, she’d use her sweetest and biggest puppy eyes until he ate some. Maybe she could even convince him to go to bed and not stay up till 4AM!

The brunette starts making a batch of cookies in the cover of night, making sure to have plenty enough for Fidd's in the morning, and putting her entire heart and all her worries into the mix in hopes the oven would ease away the stress weighing down her mind.

Sure it took a while, but it would totally be worth it to see her young Grunkle's face light up in shock at the sight of a warm batch of cookies shoved into his face and getting crumbs on his nerdy notes!

Right as she was finishing up wrapping up three separate plates worth of cookies in a napkin with a pretty little bow, for the ✨aesthetic✨ she happily told herself, she hears a pair of heavy boots walk into the kitchen.

The voice of her, now young, Grunkle Ford calls out her name in the quiet kitchen. Just as she had expected, he was awake.

Before the excited brunette could whirl around and surprise Ford with the 1-2 AM batch of cookies she lovingly went and made by hand, his low voice rumbled out, “Could you grab me a mug? One from the cabinet.”

He sounded a little funny, like he just woke up. Mabel smiled as she could already picture Stanford’s bleary and tired face as he goes to make a cup of coffee with the mug he’s asking for. She lets out a small sound of exertion as she pushes herself onto the counter since she’s too short to reach the cabinets otherwise and gingerly opens the cabinet so it doesn’t squeak and pulls out a mug. Based on the small cracks and worn paint on the ceramic it seemed a tad old, the faded words of ‘Backupsmore 1973’ barely legible.

Just as Mabel turns around, about to lightly scold her young Great Uncle for drinking coffee at 2 AM instead of getting some rest, a large hand wraps around her little neck. She didn’t even have a chance to scream as she’s suddenly slammed into the now closed cabinet, the air knocked out of her lungs and her head spinning from the impact, a loud sound of ceramic shattering on the wooden floor echoing through the kitchen and Mabel’s ringing ears

A fearful confusion consumes her mind as she, unsure of what’s happening in her dazed state until she catches a glimpse of Stanford. Gone were the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to, in their place were the sickly yellow slit eyes of a monster she knew all to well.

Bill Cipher.

“Shooting Star, there you are! I think you're getting a tad too comfortable around here! Let's fix that!"

Malice built in her throat as she spat out, her brows furrowed and her brown eyes glaring down his yellow ones, “Bill! You-”

“Ah, so you do know me! I assumed so, but wasn’t quite sure!”

The six fingered hand around her neck pressed a tad harder against the wooden cabinet behind her, making her wince from the pressure.

“Here’s the deal, Shooting Star, you’re being a massive thorn in my side.”

Her back was already aching from the impact of her getting slammed against the cabinet.

“Making Sixer second guess his trust in me with your insufferable kindness and child-like whimsy.”

Her sock-covered feet were slipping and sliding on the wooden countertop, legs uncontrollably trembling as her fingers gripped at Stanford’s large forearm in hopes of steadying herself.

“It was amusing at first but now it’s just annoying. So I need you,”

His hand tightened even more, making Mabel let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“Out of the picture.”

Mabel’s feet no longer are touching the countertop as Bill suddenly pulls her away from the cabinet, easily dangling her little body in the air and effectively hanging her. Panic instantly shoots through her and tears well up in her eyes as her airway is suddenly completely cut off, her little hands grabbing and clawing at her possessed great uncle’s forearm while her legs wildly kick at the air, too short to even graze against Bill’s chest.

Bill’s free hand raises up and idly taps his chin, as his musing over something indecisively, an wide and uncanny grin stretched across the possessed scientist’s face as he loudly questions, “Hmmm… how about… throwing you in the lake! If the water doesn’t kill you the cold air will!”

Mabel started to thrash around even harder, her heart pounding in her chest as fear coursed through every nerve in her body, her flight response in full gear as she tried over and over again to get out of Bill’s grip with no avail.

“Oooh! Or I could just tie you up and bury you in the snow! I hear frostbite is real killer these days!”

Blood was rushing to her ears; she could barely hear a word he was saying. All she could focus on was the panic bubbling in her chest and adrenaline pumping in her veins, screaming at her that she didn’t want to die.

It didn’t take long before her vision began to blur, her clawing hands and kicking feet getting more and more numb and slow with each passing seconds. She could faintly hear Bill say something about ‘throwing’, ‘roof’, and ‘classic!’ before she could feel herself almost completely clock out, vision fluttering in and out as her hand weakly claws at his arm one last time.

Just as she was about to give up completely, the polydactyl hand around her neck suddenly let go, sending Mabel unceremoniously crashing to the floor. She let in a large gasp of air, coughing her lungs out as air desperately tried to fill them once more. The brunette doesn’t even care about the small shards of broken ceramic cutting into her hands or shins, she was trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally start hyperventilating as drool and tears drip from her face to the floor with every sharp breath.

Mabel, disoriented and dazed, manages to glance up through strands of her long and curly brunette hair to see Ford still standing there with those disgusting yellow eyes, which were now staring off to space with annoyance clearly visible in his gaze.

"Geez Sixer, you chose the worst time to want your body back to 'test a new theory' huh?" He quietly mumbles under his breath, looking upset that his fun was being rudely ripped away from him.

Suddenly he stares down at Mabel, who was clutching her throat and panting heavily, brown eyes unable to stop crying. Despite this, despite all the pain and numbness that ran through her, she still found it in her to glare at the dream demon with as much animosity as she could muster while surrounded by ceramic shards and small prickles of blood.

"Well… we’ll just have to pick this up another time, won't we Shooting Star?"

The possessed body of Stanford Pines strolls towards the archway leading out of the kitchen, however before he leaves completely, he stops and whirls around with that same twisted smile Mabel vividly remembers seeing on her possessed brother’s face just a few months ago. "Oh, Shooting Star? Would you be a doll and clean up this mess? Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt now, would we?"

And with one final cackle he left, making his way back downstairs to Stanford’s study, presumably to make it appear like he never left in the eyes of the oblivious scientist, leaving the little brunet alone on the floor to lightly grip her neck, wincing at the bruise that's bound to appear the next day.

She stayed there silently for what felt like hours but was only just a couple minutes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly but surely fading away as the feeling finally came back to her numb fingers and toes, relieved that she isn’t hyperventilating anymore and she can actually breathe.

She eased herself off the cold wooden floor, her little body trembling the entire time.

Despite the feeling of spite coursing through her veins for that awful dream demon, he was right…, she really didn’t want anyone to get hurt… So instead of immediately going to fix herself up she spent the next 10 minutes sweeping up the broken mug and getting all the broken shards of ceramic into the trash.

Curse her and her big heart…!

When she was done it was about 2 AM, and it was now officially time to check the damage.

Before she left the kitchen she made sure to put the plates of cookies into the fridge.

She didn’t really feel hungry anymore.

With a couple of winces and hisses of pain she managed to tip toe herself up the stairs and to the bathroom, making sure she didn’t accidentally wake up Fiddleford by stepping on a loose plank or opening the door too loud. Once inside she gingerly pulls out the old timey medkit from under the sink and sits on the floor.

Well, technically the medkit was modern since it was the 80s…

Wah, Mabel! Not the time!

With a deep breath she gingerly treats the tiny cuts gracing her hands and shins, trying not to cry as she disinfects each cut just like Grunkle Ford taught her to at the end of the summer of plucked out mini pieces of ceramic embedded in her skin with a pair of tweezer like how her Grunkle Stan had taught her at the beginning of the summer (note from her past self, splinters are never fun).

Cleaning and applying band-aids to the cuts was the easy part, most of the bandages would be hidden under her sweater and the winter pants Fiddleford had gifted her during her first couple days staying at the shack.

It was her neck that was going to be hard to hide.

Mabel stood up and got on a step stool to look into the minor, immediately wincing at the sight of her bare neck, dark purple was already creeping in and bruising every bit of her neck. The brunette leaned closer to get a better look and almost whispered out one of the many swears she had accidentally learned from Stanford while living here.

There was a hand bruised into her neck, and it encompassed her entire neck.

She gingerly touched her neck and winced at the dull pain. Guess she wasn’t going to take off her sweater for about 2 weeks now… just 1 week if she was lucky enough…

She tentatively took a step outside of the bathroom and tiptoed down the hallway again, trying to not make a single sound. Just when she got to the steps she heard a door open behind her, causing her to instantly crouch down and hope that she was far enough down the stairs that her body was hidden from sight.

She dared herself to peek just above the top step to see Fiddleford standing outside of his room, stretching and yawning before closing his door and walking towards the bathroom Mabel just left, making the 13-year-old let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to see her like this.

She knew she should probably tell Fiddleford what happened, but she just couldn’t. Maybe it was that childish fear of getting in trouble over nothing getting to her, or maybe it was the fear that her young Grunkle would be blamed for what Bill did.

Regardless, despite her better judgment, she kept her mouth shut and decided to hide her bruises from everyone else in the house, silently thinking of a way she could somehow protect herself from Bill.

She could practically hear Dipper yelling at her about how bad of an idea this was, but she was too shaken up to think of anything else…

So, she kept with the plan even as she shakily slipped a sweater over her large t-shirt she wore as a night gown and fell asleep on the couch, huddled in the corner in a ball as vivid nightmares haunted her fitful sleep, showing flashes of a possessed Stanford Pines throwing her off either the house or a water tower.

She woke up the next day to the warm smell of breakfast and the soft tones of Fidd's humming a tune in the kitchen, her body absolutely aching and a tad sweaty from the combo of the sweater and the fireplace keeping the room warm.

Mabel winced as she got off the couch. Yep… her back is definitely bruised.

She tentatively walked towards the open archway leading into the kitchen, silently calming her nerves and trying to put a smile onto her face. It helped that Fiddleford is making breakfast, she loves his food.

The kicthen was so empty when she first arrived but the southern man immediately starting keeping the place stocked when it was clear that she was going to stay there for a while. He also insistent on making her a meal 3 times a day since she was a ‘growin’ lil’ girl’. Because of her memories of Fiddleford being ‘Old Man McGucket’ were much more prominent in her brain it was easy to forget that he was once a father, but in those domestic moments when he doted and fussed over her it was clear that he was a good one.

Well, when he was sane that is…

She quickly shook off the bleak memory.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

She let out a low breath as a wide smile covered her face, her round cheeks rosy as she happily skipped inside.

Fiddleford perked up at the sound of Mabel walking inside, smiling as immediately spoke with a fond voice, "Ey there sweetpea, sleep well?" He idly glanced behind to see Mabel in her baggy t-shirt/sleep gown as well as a sweater on top of that, making him raise an eyebrow as he playfully asks, "Did someone get' cold last night?"

"Just a little bit." Mabel playfully replied back, unable to stop the wince that crossed her face at the sound of her hoarse voice.

Fiddleford, who was already done making breakfast, immediately whipped his head around at the sound. "Honeybee, are ya' alright?"

She lightly coughs into her fist a couple times and passingly remarks, “I’m fine, it's just morning gunk! Just need some water, haha!” Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Fiddleford still had a suspicious look in his eye as he looked over the little lady before deciding to let her off easy with this one, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands while replying with a quiet, “Alright, if ya say so, sunshine…”

He quickly pours Mabel a glass of water and then grabs a plate of bacon and pancakes. “Fer you, made just how you like it,” Mabel sits down in her chair as Fiddleford places the glass of water in front of her and a plate of pancakes and some bacon that is extremely burnt. “Burnt in a volcano.”

The brunette drinks some water first, happy to note that it actually does ease the pain in her throat! After that she eagerly grabs a burnt piece of bacon and shoves it into her mouth, loving the way flakey black residue smears onto her fingers and the overwhelming taste of what can only be described as ‘BURNT’ fills her mouth. She muffles out, “It’s perfect!” In between bites as Fiddleford chuckles at her antics and makes himself a plate. “Yer such an odd lil’ duck, honeydew! Only kid I’ve ever met who wanna me ta’ burn their meal!”

Mabel immediately shoots back, pointing at Fiddleford with a mouth full of bacon, “Tahts cause ohther peowple are COWERDS!!!”

The lanky man lets out a full on belly laugh as he grabs his plate and sits at the table, the two beginning to talk about anything that crosses their mind.

Stanford wasn’t going to join them for breakfast. He’s usually asleep at this time or buried in whatever notes he was currently writing.

…Mabel feels a little bad that she's kinda happy he wouldn’t join them… Her throat feels like it’s constricting all over again at the thought of those sickly yellow eyes and horrid laughter…

At some point while eating, Fiddleford makes a joke that makes Mabel loudly laugh, the sudden shout of laughter causing her to wince and try to grab at her throat. She stops herself a couple inches short of the grab and quickly puts her hand back down, but the damage was already done.

Fiddleford, concern coming back at full force, puts down his fork and immediately asks with a concerned tone, "Honey, is ‘ere somethin' wrong with ‘ur neck?"

Sweat began to bead on Mabel’s forehead and she tried to immediately brush off the concern with a not so convincing, "Whaaaaat, psh, nah!"

He raises an eyebrow at the clearly nervous little girl. "Mabel, if yer' hurt I'd like to know."

She starts to fidget in her seat, fingers wrapping together and her brown eyes darting away. "Look, it's not thaaaat bad you don't gotta worry about it-"

At the confirmation that she is indeed hurt makes him sit up and shoot back, "Well tha' just makes me MORE worried bout it!"

Unable to come up with anymore excuses Mabel plays with a fork in front of her, eyes locked with her plate. Fiddleford let out a soft sigh and leans closer to the brunette across the table and rests his hand on hers, a kind smile on his face as he gently adds on with that fatherly tone that immediately made Mabel feel better, "Darling, it ain't gonna get better if ya’ don't lemme help. I promise I ain’t gon’ get mad, ya hear?"

Mabel tentatively glanced up at the southern man’s soft green eyes and could tell he meant every kind word.

So, despite her promising to keep her injuries a secret, she takes a deep breath and nods her head, gingerly taking off the thick hand-made sweater to leave her neck and bandaged up arms exposed to the world. The lanky southern man’s eyes seem to grow more horrified every passing second.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph-"

Fiddleford jumps up from the table, almost making his plate fall off while doing so, quickly rounding the table and crouching in front of the brunette with green eyes filled with so much worry and horror.

He found himself fussing over the girl who had easily wormed herself into his and Ford's hearts and found himself growing even more sickened at every bruise and cut he found, though nothing could compare to that sinking feeling of dread he felt looking at Mabel's bruised neck.

He cupped the brunette’s face and could feel tears well up in his eyes as he stuttered out a confused, "W-wha'..., Mabel wha' on earth happened-" His heart breaking trying to even comprehend what could have happened to her.

On the opposite end, Mabel could feel her heart swell at Fidd's fatherly fussing, but tried to brush it off the best she could, not wanting him to worry about her.

"I'm fine really! I just, uh… tripped down the stairs…? …Yeah! Didn't want to worry you, haha!"

Fiddleford, who suddenly stopped paying attention to what Mabel was saying, let his eyes looking closer at the girl's neck before they widened in a horrifying realization.

"I… Is tha' a hand…?"

A rush of panic suddenly runs through Mabel as she tries to come up with some excuse to throw him off, something, anything!

"Fidd’s it's FINE! I just… uh… wore a sweater that was too tight…?” Goodness she’s screwed, even she was aware of how unsure she sounded.

Fiddleford still wasn’t paying attention. Instead one of his hands lowered from her rosy cheeks and ever so slightly touched her neck with the lightest of touches. His green gaze was analytical as finger traced down the bruised skin, talking to himself so quietly that even Mabel almost didn’t hear him as he quietly began to count.

“One, two, three, four, five, s-”

The blond cut himself off with a sharp inhale through his nose as the look of worry that had previously graced the southern man's face suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a look Mabel had never seen on his face before.

It was a quiet anger. The kind of anger that's terrifying to witness as it bubbles from deep inside but you refuse to let it show on your face, even as your hands begin to tremble and your vision goes red.

Without saying a word Fiddleford stood up and stayed completely silent, unable to say a word for about 10 seconds while his face was blank and unreadable. Finally, Fiddleford looked down at Mabel and gave a kind smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Sweetie, could ya' stay here a sec? I have something importan' I need tha’… discuss… with Stanferd."

After finishing that statement he gently patted the top of her brunette head and walked out of the kitchen archway, turning the corner and heading up the stairs that lead to Stanford's room, walking with such silent intensity that it kinda frightened her.

After a couple moments of staying frozen in her chair she finally managed to shake off the feeling, realizing she had to stop Fiddleford! As scary as it would be seeing Stanford again after last night's… incident… she couldn't just let Fiddleford go confront Ford without the full story!

She sprang up from her chair and winced at the pain radiating from her back. Yep! Still definitely bruised!

Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She stumbles to a stop at the end of the steps as she sees Fiddleford standing outside Ford's door, just as quiet as he was downstairs. He raises his hand and gives a firm echoing knock and she could faintly hear her young Grunkle respond with a strong, "Come in!"

She hates that she shivers a bit at his voice.

She hates that she's a little bit afraid of him.

Fiddleford doesn't respond and instead just opens the door and then quietly closes it behind him. The door doesn’t close all the way which makes a sliver of light from Ford's bedroom/study shine against the floor in the hallway.

Well... Fiddleford hadn't broken any windows or started yelling, so maybe, just maybe, he's going in there to calmly talk out the problem with Ford? Well, that was more wishful thinking on Mabel's part. She HOPES they will just, talk it out, and no one will get hurt...

A loud crash and shout echoed through the hallway.

A girl could dream can't she?

Mabel sprints to Stanford’s door, tripping over herself the whole way, and yanks open the heavy wooden door as quickly as she could.

When she finally pries it open she’s greeted with the sight of Fiddleford in the middle of trying to choke out Stanford, while Stanford is leaning against one of his smaller wooden cabinets, pushing Fidds away (to the best of his ability) with his foot, clutching his very bloody nose in confusion.

Mabel rushes in and pushes the southern man away from her bleeding Great Uncle to the best of her ability but Fiddleford upon seeing Mabel finally backs off from trying to murder Ford, but the look of pure anger firmly remains on his face.

Ford looks at Fiddleford with pure confusion as he pushes himself off the small wooden cabinet, clutching his bleeding nose all the while.

"F, what on earth has gotten into you!"

Fiddleford stared back with his mouth agape, absolutely gobsmacked, before finally yelling back, "Wha'- what's gotten into ME?! What's gotten into YOU Stanferd Pines!"

Fidds pushed past Mabel and jabbed his finger into the brunet’s chest.

"She's a lil girl?! How DARE you even lay a FINGER on her!"

"F what on earth are you talking about?!"

Fiddleford roughly grabs Ford's shoulders and pushes him to look towards Mabel with a surprising amount of force.

"SHE'S what I'm talkin' bout! Stanferd Filbrick Pines who gave you tha' idea ya' had tha' GODDAMN right to even lay a FINGER on her-"

Stanford couldn't focus on the rant Fiddleford poured into his ears instead his eyes state frozen on the disgusting purple mark staining Mabel's neck.

"Mabel… who-"

Stanford knelt next to the sweet girl who reminded him so much of Stanley in his youth and felt a familiar pang in his chest. That feeling he'd feel whenever Lee came home covered in bruises. That feeling to protect… and to hurt anyone who dares to hurt them.

"Sweetheart… who did this? What happened?"

Fiddleford scoffed. "Ya should know."

Ford shivered at how cold F had sounded. Out of all of his years of knowing him, Fidds had never sounded like this.

Then the meaning of those words finally hit him.

Stanford rushed to stand up and looked back to Fiddleford's furious eyes with his own look of disbelief.

"Y-... You think I did this?"

Fiddleford's eyes didn't change in the slightest.

"Ya'. Ya' I do."

"We've known each other for years, we went to college together, I went to your wedding, you are easily my best friend. Do you honestly think I'm capable of doing something like this?!"

"I used ta'," Fidds crossed his arms. "Now I ain't so sure."

Ford didn't know HOW to feel. This felt like a betrayal but not in the way Stanley's felt. He also felt offended. And hurt. And so many other emotions that were swirling in his chest.

"How? How did you even get it in your head that I had something to do with this!? How could you look at me and even IMAGINE me hurting her?! I can't even imagine myself hurting her! She's-"

"Hand."

Ford froze from his rant.

"What."

"Yer' tha' only one who coulda' done it. How do I know? Hand."

"Ya' always go on an' on about the statistics of someone' being polydactyly. About how different ya' are."

"I want ya' to look at how many fingers are on that handprint on 'er neck, look me in tha' eye, and tell me who's most likely tha' guilty party."

Stanford froze, his face turning white at the realization. He didn't need to turn around and investigate the bruise on Mabel's neck. He now knows it had 6 fingers. When you put all the facts together, one thing is clear.

He IS the most likely person to have done it.

But there's a problem with that.

He DEFINITELY didn't do it.

He glanced back at Mabel, who seemed to be nervously pulling at her nightgown the entire time. After a moment she finally glances up, but after looking into his brown eyes for less than a second she quickly looked back down.

He didn't do it. He knows he didn't.

But if he didn't, why did she look so scared of him?

He didn't do it…

…Didn’t he…?

❔—————————————❓

Now this is a bonus doodle based on an idea I had for the aftermath of this! Stanford is stuck mulling over this in his room and when he finally leaves he notes that Mabel isn't asleep on the couch like usual. So of course he freaks out and assumes she ran away, running all over the house in hopes of finding her. He runs upstairs to Fiddleford’s room and knocks frantically on his door to get him to help him find the missing girl.

Fiddleford opens the door looking annoyed and tired. When Stanford says he can’t find Mabel and that he’s looked everywhere the southern man cuts him off by instantly replying “I know where she is.” That instantly calms down Ford but he looks confused as he asks “You do?” To which Fidd’s opens the door a little bit more to show Mabel asleep on his bed.

Stanford lets out a soft ‘Oh.’ And just stands there, looking awkwardly at Fiddleford for a moment before trying to break the tension with a weak chuckle and asking “Did she want to have a sleepover?” The blond doesn’t even hesitate to reply back, “Yeah. Because she’s scared of you, Stanford.” And closing the door on the brunet’s face.

Stanford doesn’t move for what feels like forever before he heads back to his room, feeling a little sick.

Anywho, I’m done now!!!

I’m happy and sorry you read through all of that, you can leave now! 💥💥💥

[fubu18writes]

❧tinted glasses hide the relationship you both have

♢regular tags: f!reader, bonten!inui seishu, reader is kokonoi's secretary and fiance ♢mature tags: infidelity (koko's cheating on you and you're cheating on him), semi-public sex (you're in a parking lot lmao), getting fucked from behind, inui's kind of mean, swearing ♢ all characters are 18+ and above unless stated otherwise

a/n: I KNOW HOW HTML TEXTS WORK NOW. but anyway, figured that bonten inui hasn't been seen yet and i swear to god, he would be rough lmao. second attempt at writing smut, hopefully i'll do inui justice. i also want to say that i don't support infidelity. if you cheat on your partner, then that's on you and you alone. it's better to communicate and end the relationship rather than... this.

It started off nicely. At first anyway.

You were a bit confused to why arranged marriages were a thing but nonetheless you were happy. Kokonoi Hajime was pretty much Bonten's bank vault but you didn't love him for that. Too bad the mutual feelings weren't accepted as such.

Kokonoi didn't even try to hide the fact that he was cheating on you with someone. It was literally clear as day that he would make excuses just to avoid you outright. You hadn't seen the other woman yet, but when you decided to go through his phone to see who the fuck he was texting with, it was revealed that there were more women than just you.

Being in a relationship with any of the Bonten executives would mean either pleasure or pain. Other former secretaries (now turned pick-up girls) who were in a relationship with any of them would say that they weren't loyal and always had a backup plan if things went south. You ignored their warnings since Kokonoi was objectively nice to you, buying gifts and spending time with you. But boy, you realized that those warnings should've been a mental note rather than being disregarded.

You wanted to cry, but then you realized that this was Bonten, after all. It was bound to reveal itself sooner or later. You couldn't confine in anyone... except for Inui Seishu.

Inui was part of Bonten's executives. A "guard dog" as Kokonoi called him once. His expression definitely matched the nickname. He looked like a wild predator, waiting for its prey to latch onto the trap. But unlike the rest of Bonten, he didn't have anyone to "show off".

Inui was reserved, and even you took a long time in being able to talk to him. But that reservation finally disappeared when you confided to him about Kokonoi's infidelity. It was like a switch flipped in him.

It was revealed to you that Inui was Kokonoi's childhood friend, and that Kokonoi had a crush on his older sister, Akane. But when she died, he went downhill with the money collecting. And since he hadn't been able to move on from Akane, that's where the infidelity begins to start.

"Then do payback." Inui suggested bluntly.

You stare at him. "I'm sorry?"

"An eye for an eye. He cheats on you, you cheat on him." Inui says again, not looking up from his phone. It was like cheating was a topic that was brought up casually, but you weren't going to bring it up.

"I--I mean, I don't think I have the conscience to do that." You admitted. You didn't really, which was ironic since you were engaged to someone who could hurt you with no remorse.

Inui looks at you now, his eyes gleaming under a different light. "Then I'll make you have the conscience to."

(Waking up to the 4am call "Yesterday, when were you and who were you with?" you asked)

And this is where your infidelity starts.

It was around four in the morning when a phone call rudely interrupted your make-out session with Inui. You have to admit, being risky like this... it gave a thrill in you.

"Answer it," You let out a soft gasp when Inui's hand starts holding your thighs. "Answer it and put the speaker on."

You didn't bother in questioning it. You pressed answer, saying in the sweetest voice you could muster despite you disgust towards your fiance---or rather, ex-fiance. "Haji?"

"I'll get straight to the point." Kokonoi's voice was laced venom. "Yesterday. At eleven. When were you and who were you with?"

(Alternating between evasions and excuses Having fun using them)

"Haji, I asked Mikey if I could leave, remember?" You tell him. "You saw me going in and out of the room."

"I know, but I there's a gut feeling." Kokonoi sounded tired, but you couldn't care less at the moment. You bit your lower lip, feeling Inui's hands going in the inside of your pencil skirt. Inui gave you a look that said, "Keep talking".

You let out a sigh this time. "Hajime. I wouldn't do anything to ruin the relationship."

There was a long pause. "...really? You wouldn't do anything to ruin what we have?"

(Things like "You're my only one", I say it so often that I can laugh about it all day long)

"You're my only one, Haji." You say sweetly. "Promise."

Another long pause starts before you hear the line cut. "Finally, let me fuck you in peace." Inui grumbled quietly before swiftly removing your panties. You covered your mouth to stifle a moan as his fingers were playing with your clit. "Wanna hear your moans, pretty. Don't bother in hiding it..."

You only shake your head, and Inui's response was to experimentally slide a finger inside of you. You didn't hold back your moan this time, leaning against hood of his car to keep yourself balance. "Inu--Inui, please--"

"Seishu."

"Seishu, let me cum, please," You were begging at this point, your legs shaking.

"Mhm," Seishu pulls out his fingers and you managed to catch your breath, panting heavily. "Turn around, I'm fucking you like the needy bitch you are."

(I simply enjoy "doing it" With someone, you know?)

Your pencil skirt was on the ground, arms on the hood of his car and your ass in full display. Inui unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down just a little to show his cock. You could see from the dim light that it was big, veiny, and there was precum leaking from the tip. You practically drooled at the sight, clenching onto nothing. "Koko hasn't seen like this, has he?" He slides into you without a warning, earning a porn-worthy moan from you. "When was the last time you've been taken care of properly?"

You only shake your head, covering your mouth again to hide your moans. "Seishu, s-someone could see--Ah!" You hide your face, avoiding eye contact when he moves his hips. "Don't care. If anyone would see, it'll be you fucking on my dick like a whore."

(My bitter and hot spice, I'll give it to you right now)

Only the sounds of squelching and skin slapping were being heard in the somewhat empty parking lot. It was like your vision was starting to blur, the only thing keeping you from falling down to the ground was Inui's cock in your tight and messy cunt.

"Sei--Oh, fuck--Sei!"

Inui could feel that you were reaching your climax as you clench your fists. "Want--Want you inside, Sei, please-" You turn to him with needy tears glossing you eyes, probably from the pleasure he was giving you. It's as if his eyes weren't already clouded in lust in desire.

If Kokonoi wasn't going to give you what you deserve, then Inui certainly will.

(My unforgettably wonderful taste, can you feel it throughout your body?)

[transmascaraa]

Hello it's me again ;33, the one who requested to bsd, and seriously, i LOVED it, it almost made my cry 'cause i'm trying my best to get better, but anyways!! Can i ask more for bsd?? I saw that your requests are open, soo..... Can i ask Dazai and/or Chuuya having a partner that literally HATES alcohool and alcohoolics/drunk people? Like idk i think that it would be a very interesting think (most to Dazai cause Chuu isn't an alcohoolic he just get drunk easily but i think you understood), so pretty please?? (Thinking abt req for dgr too btw hehe >u<)

multiple characters headcannons!

alcoholism.

characters: dazai, chuuya x gn!reader

author's note: OKAY SO i don't like alcoholics and alcoholism as a whole bffr that shit is fucked up but i don't think this will be hard to write due to having witnessed some pretty bad experiences happen to the people in my neighborhood and i think it is really bad(my dad is a part of that even tho it's VERY rare and it doesn't impact him TOO much) lmao BUT i do love chuuya so why not write it smh i hope you enjoy! (also i'm glad you liked the last one^^)

☆Dazai

-uh so

-basically

-this man.

-it might be a LITTLE hard for you guys to get along in the first place

-especially when he comes home late at night, drunk as fuck and you have to help him go to sleep and rest(drink water first ofc)

-so you'll definitely try to help him or something i meannnn

-sometimes it's his failed attempt at killing himself but yk he doesn't really attempt after getting with you in a relationship

-you'll definitely try to confront him multiple times and tell him how bad and unhealthy it is.

-wether it's because of religion or just that you don't like it, he will not drink IN YOUR PRESENCE.

-otherwise, when he's not with you, he still drinks.

-and scold him please—

-he deserves it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

♡ Chuuya

-so ofc as any decent human being you're gonna try and help him and stop him from drinking alcohol completely

-and with chuuya it might even work even tho the chances aren't all that high

-he understands that you hate it and just despise it when he comes back home at 4am drunk, then having you making him rest and all just isn't his thing at all.

-if you scold him, he'll always irritatedly reply with something like:

-"yeah, whatever, i know, i'm trying. mind your own business. i know."

-gonna be a bit of a challenge but at least it's possible.

-throw away any alcohol you have at home so it doesn't remind him of the taste or something (whereas dazai, if you threw it away, would buy it again without you knowing)

-ngl would be really understanding with this subject/topic, he'll do his best.

-if he fails know that he's still trying, especially with having you to distract him from it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

so yes

i like this one

love your reqs btw!!

| @mariaace <3

[ratskinsuit]

Hi! I’m autistic and a lesbian and I’m currently hyper fixated on hazbin hotel and Angel is my comfort character. I was wondering if you could write a platonic angel x reader with angst and the reader is comforting and taking care of angel after a bad night with Valentino. Maybe with cuddling and hand holding. If not I totally understand, I just thought I would ask! Also I love your work!!

A/N: I AM NOT CRYING AT THE THOUGHT OF THIS MY EYES ARE SWEATING, IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO GET THIS OUT I WAS KINDA DEPRESSED FOR A WHILE

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was one of those really bad nights

Valentino just got out of one of his "breakups" with Vox again, so he was extra agitated today

The entire studio had to walk on eggshells around him, but that doesn't mean that they didnt get his wrath

But angel got the brute of it

He came home with bruises, scratches, and a swollen and bloody eye

You were sitting on the couch, and as soon as he stumbled through the door, he collapsed

He was unconscious for about an hour or two as you cleaned him up

disinfected and wrapped his wounds, cleaning up the blood, changing him into clean clothes and wrapping him up, taking a warm, damp towel to go over the dried up blood and fluids

You ice packed his eye and kept a close eye on him the entire time he was unconscious until he woke up

At first he was confused as to why he was in different clothes, but his face grew grim when you explained and he remebered

he tried to brush it off as, "nothing, Val just had a bad day that's all."

But you saw through it, and eventually he cracked

Poor Angel started sobbing and rocking back and forth, wracked with sobs

You held him and shushed him the entire time, soft murmers of "Its okay" "Hes not here, let it out, your doing great" "Shh, everything will get better"

Until a couple hours later he finally was reduced to sniffles

it used to be days of breakdowns, going in and out like a zombie, crying and breaking down to being numb and tumbling

But since your here, he feels so much better, and he always tries his best to help you aswell, he could spend days just by your side

After he's a bit more stable, the two of you sit there hand in hand, cuddled up next to eachother, you ordered some food and watched comfort shows together, giggling and laughing

throut the night, angel began to look a bit more calm, less tense around you.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N; ITS 4AM AND I GOTTA GO TO BED SINCE I HAVE SCHOOL TMROW (I'm 18, late high schooler not a minor)

[tomatoswup]

el chico del apartamento 512⋆ ˚｡⋆୨💌୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

summary: that new boy-next-door Vash from 512 sure is cute! Maybe you should write him a letter~

title translation: the boy from apartment 512

warnings/tags: shy/anxious reader, the usual nerve-wrecking feelings that come with a crush, tesla jumpscare, kabedon! by vash, i edited this at 4am might have mistakes, cute~, Modern!AU

A/N: I....don't know if i wrote this right...but this song had me delusional..... :D,,, I really wanted to write a cute boy-next-door kinda oneshot with Vash and boom, here yall go :P enjoy! I recommend listening to Selena's "El Chico Del Apartamento 512" since this fic was a direct inspir. from the song~

pairing: vash x reader

Life in your apartment complex was, in your own words, quite boring.

Bland scenery, the shouts and complains of neighbors and the ridiculous "problems" that shouldn't even be called problems you had to deal with.

Oh cmon, can't you park in your own fucking parking space?!

But there was a certain someone that made the hell of a place a bit more better. Your new neighbor from apartment 512. You first met him by accident when you dropped the groceries you were hauling up to your apartment one day, to which he helped you and struck up conversation.

From there, fate couldn't help but let the meetings between the both of you continue as the two of you talked more and more. Often times, he'd find you reading at one of the various apartment complex picnic tables, joining you in your times of relaxation.

"You okay?" You asked one day as the both of you sat at the table, sharing a bowl of fruits you had cut up to enjoy the afternoon with. He turned his attention towards you, orange sunglasses resting on his head and mouth full of watermelon causing his cheeks to puff out like a chipmunk "Mfph?"

You had a good ol' laugh as the poor man tried to chew as quick as he could to respond, but truly just ended up almost choking on the poor watermelon. You had to smack him on the back in the end so all the juice left his lungs.

Life, work, and flowers that the both of you liked, sometimes the two of you conversated for hours on end. And sometimes, you two just liked each others quiet company.

You admired that.

But you also admired something else.

ooo girl he was cute.

You couldn't resist the butterflies in the pits of your stomach whenever the two of you took your walks together, coming home from work late nights. The closeness of your shoulders and his made you a bit more delusional than you had wanted to be.

Or maybe you did?

GOD MAKE UP YOUR MIND!

Vash, that was his name, was your boy-next-door crush. To be honest, you never expected to find yourself attracted to someone like him. But man, did he have your heart running its laps.

Every.

Single.

Time.

The glances he would sneak at you from afar felt like honey for your little ol' fragile heart. And no, you never forgot those frequent very frequent times where you would find him knocking at your door. Opening it, there he was, the cute tall spiky haired blonde awkwardly standing there with a flower pot, little flowers already growing inside.

Shifting his weight from his feet left to right, he would use the excuse of "I bought a bit too much for my balcony!" to keep giving them to you.

It was adorable! You never failed to blush every time and whenever he accidentally touched your hand when he handed them to you. You didn't notice his own red cheeks though.

You had a small collection of these plants in your home now that you made sure to water every morning. And as a thankful gesture, you often invited him over for dinner at your place.

That was....flirting right?

Jesus fucking christ you really had no rizz..

You often found yourself lying in bed some nights, not knowing how to address those bubbly feelings of yours towards the dorky man.

How would you tell him either way? How about a date?

Oh no no no, you didn't have the balls to tell it to his face... Did you?

You contemplated for a second.

Nope, definitely not.

If he said no, you would have to think about finding a different apartment at this point.

oh my goddd this was embarrassing..

But cmon now that cute mole on his face? How could you resist those funny faces of his? You groaned loudly into the air as you slapped your hands on your eyes in exasperation.

'What if I write him a letter?' You froze in your mini moment of despair before shooting up from your laid down position. "Okay, okay, maybe this can work." You gasped out, stumbling and slipping off your bed, looking around the room trying to find a pen and paper.

Pen..Pen..Digging out a pen from your bag, you held it up into the air as if it were a holy grail.

Settling with a nice purple colored one and a page from a notebook that you carefully tore out, you wrote your "confession" letter on that messy wooden desk of yours.

That'll do that job! please

By the next morning, you had the letter sealed and ready to be given to him, but damn were you on the verge of wanting to throw up because of how nervous you were.

You even added a cute dried flower on the letter to make it look pretty maybe he could ignore the little tear marks of yours on the note

Okay, go to his door, knock, give him the letter, then run.

PERFECT! Completely foul proof plan!

Wash, rinse, repeat.

You put on one of the more nicer outfits from your closet, and paced around your room a bit before finally leaving the apartment. Letter clenched in your hands, you walked only a few steps from your door until you saw the numbers 512 glaring down at you.

Ummm…

You felt sweatier than usual as you frantically brushed down your hair before straightening your posture. It took you only 2 minutes of self-reassurance before you knocked.

knock, knock, knock

Pulling your hand back, you stood there holding the letter into your chest.

...

...

No response. That's fine! That's totally okay!

You took a moment to breathe in and out before knocking again. Finally hearing movement from the other side of the door, you took a step back, bracing yourself from seeing his face as the door swung open.

"How can I help you?" A feminine voice rung out.

Opening the door was a blonde girl somewhat a bit older than you. Her long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes making you do a double take as your mouth gaped open at the pretty girl. But that surprise was taken over by your heart dropping at the sight. She was wearing a white sweat jacket

His jacket..

HE HAD A GIRLFRIEND!?

'ABORT! ABORT MISSION!' Your subconscious yelled at you as you stumbled to find words to reply to the girl "I-um, well uh-"

The burning feeling in your chest started to hurt as you felt the desire to just drop dead right on the spot. There was no way you just... Oh my god..

Before you could respond, the girl's expression widened into somewhat recognition. "Oh! You're the neighbor from next door! Were you looking for my brother?"

Eh?

"...Y-Yes?" You tilted your head in a somewhat cheeky sweaty smile you were dying on the inside before she turned from you and looked back into the apartment.

"HEY VASH!" She yelled, holding the door open with her back as she crossed her arms, and from the depths of the blue-wallpapered apartment nice choice! you heard his voice.

"WHAT!?" There were sounds of blankets or something moving coming from where he was inside.

Her eyes flickered back to you before giving you a playful wink "I think our neighbor from 511 is knocking at the door! Are they the-!"

"WAIT WAIT WAIT DON'T OPEN IT WAIT!!" His sudden screech emitted before the sudden mess of things falling to the ground and objects breaking echoed through the apartment.

Was he okay?

"GYAH!" You heard Vash yelp before he tripped into your sight right around a corner, shirt half messily on him as he attempted to slip his arm through the hole of the shirt. The scattered scars on his body prominent to your eyes as he struggled for a second.

Wow look at that bod-

You quickly averted your sight, feeling the heat crawling up your neck and into your cheeks as he picked himself off the ground as fast as he could with only one hand. You noted that he didn't have the time to put his prosthetic on in that sudden rush of his.

"T-thanks Tesla!" He breathed out, smoothing down his shirt as Tesla left her spot by the door, leaving it ajar as she gave you a small wave before leaving into the apartment and what you presumed back into her bedroom.

"Sorry about my older sister, she's just visiting for the week..." Vash cleared his throat before leaning his arm his only arm at the moment on the door frame, humorously deepening his voice "So, how can I help a beautiful person on this most wonderous night?"

You giggled at his try to hide whatever happened, the tense muscles in your shoulders softening as you silently held out the letter you had.

"Hm?" His eyebrow rose as he relaxed himself, slowly grabbing the red envelope out of your hand. Turning it around, he scanned the writing on the top.

To Vash

And attached to it, was a red geranium, one of the flowers he had gifted you. He couldn't help but give the envelope a blushed smile before looking back up to ask you what it was.

But there was no one?

"E-Eh?" He stuttered as he quickly stepped outside, only seeing a flash of your body running through your door as you shut it quick behind you.

Did... Did you just run back to your apartment?

Vash let out a pout as his shoulders slouched down, barefoot on the concrete floor of the apartment complex corridor.

"I missed the chance to say it.. Damn it.."

Meanwhile, you had shut the door and slowly slid down it, covering your mouth with your hand in amazement.

YOU DID IT!

YOU ACTUALLY DID IT! YES!

OH FUCK YOU DID IT.

ohhhh shit.

"what did I just do.." You groaned, pushing your knees up to bury your face into.

For the next couple of days, you tried your best to avoid Vash as much as you could. Taking all the early shifts at work, racing into your apartment whenever you saw him sitting at the picnic table with a bowl of strawberries.

Maybe he didn't feel the same way, how could you show your face to him? You were scared..What he would say?

Disgusting?

I'm interested in someone else?

That night was one that had you up late, running through all the things he could say about your letter, bad or good.

But one day. you had been forced to take the late night shift again and found yourself walking down one of the many apartment complex hallways alone. You actually kinda missed your lil nightly talks with him…

"Hey!"

Hm?

Turning your head to the left, you spotted the pretty blonde man, racing down the path in slippers, sweatpants and a long sleeve, no glasses of his in sight.

"V-VASH!?" You squawked out, the man closing in as in a panic, you closed your eyes. Feeling your back hit the hard wall behind you, you were only able to throw a hand out to put a cushion to whatever was happening.

What?

Slowly peeping your eyes open, your vision was covered by the sight of his chest. His large frame practically covering your body and both arms of his caging the sides of your head, most likely to prevent you from meekly escaping.

"I finally.." He let out a deep breath as the hot sensation of it lightly hit your face "..caught you." His gaze only focused on you as you noticed the grip you had on his firm shoulder. Ah... He was trying to talk to you again..

Did the letter not make anything awkward?

"Vash?" Your breath hitched, the intense stare of his eyes just on you making that stomach of yours develop butterflies once again.

"You never gave me the chance to give you an answer.." He muttered before chuckling "Didn't think it'd take me this long to finally see you."

Moving your gaze away and to the side, you tried to escape his eyes in attempt to calm yourself down "I thought I made things awkward...Ha." You gave him a small pained grin, the urge to cry out of humiliation was making the lump in your throat push upwards.

One more word out of you and you'll accidentally let it out, tears and all.

Vash looked down at you with a curious expression before the look of adoration riddled his face "Aw cmon now, look at me. You'll never make things awkward between the both of us..." Hand off the wall, he softly put two fingers under your chin, moving it so you looked back into those endless bright blue eyes of his.

"Ya know, you actually beat me to it first."

"I-I did?"

He gave you a cheeky smile "Definitely, I was gonna come over but.." The corners of his mouth moved downwards "I didn't get to see you anymore. Even after work, I made sure to wait a bit to spot ya. Guess today's my lucky day."

oh fuck, you felt so bad.

he…was actually looking for you.

shit.

"I-" You choked out, silencing Vash as you felt your eyes start to blur with the tears. You couldn't hold it in anymore. All those embarrassing moments and thoughts.

"I was scared about what you were gonna say... I thought you weren't going to like me anymore after that letter…” You tried to regulate your breathing as your furiously wiped the tears out of your eyes “Stupid right?”

Using both hands, Vash slowly took your hands away from your face, before swiping his thumb against the apples of your cheeks "Well, whatever you thought that was gonna do, did quite the opposite.."

Face to face, just centimeters away from each other.

"I like you even more.." His thumb brushing the bottom of your lips as you observed him, eyes still red from crying. But the red of Vash’s own cheeks got brighter and brighter.

"May I?"

And with no words spoken, you nodded and he caved, leaning in. You felt like melting as he wrapped his arms around your sides, those pink lips of his deeping into your own as the taste of mint seeped into your mouth.

The sweet taste of his was one you imagined at night, and have never thought to ever taste until now.

Now that you tasted him, it felt so intoxicating. Every touch of his tongue in your mouth, the grip he had on your waist.

Okay slow it down a little cowboy~

Pulling away for air, the both of you just stared at each-other, eyes wide and quiet.

Until laughter came about, Vash had started giggling and you tried your best to stifle your own until you couldn’t. And the two of you continued laughing as Vash kept you close in his embrace.

"I was wonderingg~" Vash whistled out after getting those cute giggles out of his system "Are you doing anything this Saturday?"

You tilted your head to the right, giving him a shy smile "Not necessarily, I was just gonna order some pizza and stay home alone.."

"Maybee..I can keep you company?" He jokingly puppy-eyed before you gave him peck on the lips just one more time

"Always~"

A sharp gasp was suddenly emitted from your right side, causing you to almost yelp in shock at the sudden disturbance as Vash whipped his head to the direction. And there stood your upstairs neighbor, an elderly hispanic lady and her husband with a little cart full of folded laundry.

"Mire! El chico del apartmento 512 se junto con el rentero de 511. Ay que bonito~" She cooed as her husband nodded in agreement.

You returned a blushed smile, feeling Vash's hand slip into your own.

Oh how sweet!

translation: Look! The boy from apartment 512 got together with the renter from 511. How pretty~

[witch-sweets]

hey uh just a warning this was written at like 4am in the morning one night when I didn't sleep and I no longer really stand by this I do still belive souls are like caffeine but it's more in line with the sugar on steriods description I used rather than the really strong stuff think the amount used in sodas like cola or like a latte rather than black coffee there's no addiction factor and a better comparison would be that souls are like Mario power ups more than caffeine they provide a temporary boost but are ultimately beneficial to those who use them

Once Again this was written really late at night when I had no sleep so it's very scuffed and I phrase things VERY wrong and overall it's just bad and I'm embarrassed I posted this from now on character analysis/headcanon posts will only be done if I'm in the correct state of mind so let me say this

No Snatcher is not addicted to souls they are just really tasty and beneficial magic sources that can heighten someones emotional state and have a naturally alluring aura to freshly dead spirits. Who need a bit of a magic boost

The souls did not effect his mental state that severely he just lost his mind as the years went by and started excusing the murder by thinking "oh its their fault they came here they were practically asking for death"

And once again these are my HEADCANONS everyone has their own and I'd love to hear them if anyone wants to share them!

Just please be aware by going past the read more your find a very wrong scuffed up post that I really dislike now due to the confusing phrasing and comparisons

So I've been thinking about how Snatcher got into the habit of eating souls and I've come to the conclusion that for a weak scared spirit souls are not only tempting but also addicting think about these lines during one of the Snatcher streams and while not Canon they're a pretty good source to base headcanons on

Souls are described as similar to caffeine which can be addicting in the sense that they offer a physical boost for a short while to whoever consumes it caffeine is notorious for helping people pull all nighters and giving a sudden surge of hyperactivity it's like sugar on steroids however there is the aforementioned "crash" which apparently souls lack there's also supposedly a lot more benefits with souls

It isn't really elaborated on other than stuff that wouldn't apply to a ghost (extending one's lifetime) so let's move on

I like to think that instead of a "crash" the effects of the soul slowly fade out making the mental high of consuming them even more alluring due to the fact the fade time can be extended by consuming more than one which leads into the addiction factor if it's hard to understand trough text I drew some doodles to help explain

That crazed state is the ideal for Snatcher no empathy no emotions just constant euphoria and manic behavior to scare away intruders I personally believe that Prince started consuming souls to distract from all the grief and got himself addicted to them and the mental high they provided slowly becoming more accustomed to the erratic effects on his behavior and adapting them into scarring away intruders

Anyways this is just a funky character study/headcanon post soon feel free to write your own opinions and headcanons on why Snatcher consumes souls

[faulty-writes]

Hey faulty, it’s currently 4am and I’m feeling really sick rn aha. Could you maybe do a oneshot of Iida x fem reader where she gets sick at night? Like they’re on a camping trip with the class 1A and they end up having to share a bed? (Cliché ik but I love this trope sue me) and she gets sick at night. I’m talking fever keeping her up until 3am then going to the restroom in the bedroom to puke. She doesn’t want to wake up iida and tries to just deal with it alone.. but she ends up waking iida up anyway when she goes to the restroom. She got so hot that she had to take off her t shirt but left the sweats on. She’s in a white tank top btw. (For plot you’ll see) Iida knocks on the door bc like he’s worried ya know? She says it’s open and then a few min later after talking, she asks him to bring her a black tank top from her luggage bc the one she has on is kinda see through. She’s red from the fever btw. Iida brings it and she turns her back and just slips it off to replace it with the black one. Normally shy but friendly reader would feel embarrassed in changing in front of him (and even being in a tank top) , but at this point, she feels like dog water so she doesn’t care. When she quickly slipped the white tank over her head, iida gets flustered (you know naturally bc u know girl he likes). He’s gonna turn around (or act how iida acts) but he sees some scars on her back for just 2 seconds. This leads to late night caring and reader opening up about trauma from rich parents. (Think like Killua from hxh just for the abuse he went through- parents wanted to make reader really strong and we’re obsessed over it-she’s in a better home now tho with a relative)

iida and fem reader are in the “I kinda like you a lot but I’m not going to do anything bc I love our friendship rn phase.”

Could you make it cute and fluffish and domestic? (I think that’s how u use that word lol) Reader and iida grow closer through it too. I’m sorry this ask is so specific lol, I have a vision in mind. I also think sweet shy fem reader x iida is really cute. (This is not self indulgent at all aha😂)

It’s ok if ur not up to it.. tho I would be really happy if u did write it up. I love ur fanfics!! Been a fan for like 3 years even before I had tumblr!(❁´◡`❁) just lemme know if ur busy rn or don’t wanna write it! No pressure. :)

Thank you!

[ Alright! Sorry this took a bit, but I hope you're feeling better and I hope I did this story justice. It was kind of fun to write, I like the whole "I like you but need to stay friends" trope because it can always grow into something more. Anyways, I tried to make Tenya flustered just enough in this fic. I love embarrassing him. ]

“Are you most certain you’re correct?” Tenya urged, and Izuku held up a piece of paper muttering under his breath. “That’s w-what I counted,” he replied before yelping when Katsuki grabbed the back of his head. “Shut the hell up already!” he snapped before glaring at Tenya.

“Who the hell cares if two of us have to share a damn bed!? It’s your fault for not accounting for this, four-eyes,” he growled, making Tenya frown in response. “I am afraid that I did not anticipate the weather causing our pre-scheduled camping trip to be postponed,” he explained, slightly annoyed by Katsuki’s behavior.

He wanted to make graduation special and insisted that Class A take a camping trip. However, due to the rainy weather and the persistence of his female classmates, the choice to pull over and book hotel rooms for the night was made.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Katsuki responded, releasing his hold on Izuku. “Come on you spikey-haired idiot!” he growled at Eijirou who nervously chuckled. “Well, I guess that means Bakugou and I are taking the first room,” he said.

“Best of luck figuring out who shares the one-bedroom suite for the night!” With that, he waved goodbye and chased after Katsuki. “Mineta and I can share a room!” Kaminari announced. “Yes, and Jirou and I can share a room,” Momo said.

“Mm, very well,” Tenya replied, looking at Izuku and Shoto. “I assume you two wish to share a room,” he said. “Oh w-well uh…” Izuku tried to reply but Tenya ignored him. You were sitting on one of the provided chairs in the lobby of the hotel, remaining quiet as you watched the scene unfold.

You coughed and cleared your throat a few seconds later. “Are you okay Y/n?” Tsuyu questioned laying her hand on your back. You nodded. “Uh, yeah just a bit of a sore throat,” you replied, rubbing it to ease the discomfort.

“Everyone please, pair up in groups of two and take a room key!” Tenya announced, and you looked at Tsuyu. “Go ahead,” you said, waving her away. “I don’t care who I spend the night with,” you soon regretted those words when only Tenya and you were left.

“Forgive me,” he said, unlocking the hotel room and turning on the light. “I hope this accommodation does not cause discomfort for you,” he said, gesturing you into the room. He could hear a steady stream of rain hitting the window and vicious thunder rumbling outside.

“I guess this camping trip turned out...s-sour, huh Iida?” you tried to joke, but he didn’t seem to find any humor in your words. Your smile faded and you folded your hands in front of you, focusing on the floor. ‘Well, that didn’t turn out the way I wanted’ you thought with rosy cheeks.

You moved out of the way when Tenya walked into the room, placing the bags on the floor by the bed. He insisted on carrying yours, and it didn’t come as a surprise considering he was a gentleman. “Are you feeling well?” he asked, noticing your reddened cheeks.

“Uh…w-what?” you replied, snapping your head up and trembling when he glared at you. “Are you feeling well?” he repeated. “Um, I uh, y-yeah I’m f-fine,” you choked out, thinking that your sore throat was nothing more than the rain irritating your allergies.

“I see,” he walked over to the bed and asked, “Do you prefer sleeping on the left or right side?” You knitted your eyebrows, unsure what he meant. “Uh, w-whichever side is fine,” you replied but knew your answer wouldn't satisfy him, so you thought of a diversion.

“I wanna take a...a shower!” you exclaimed, trying to ignore his now suspicious glance. The worst part was that you could barely stand looking at his gorgeous eyes. “Very well, you are welcome to freshen up in the shower. I trust you have the appropriate slumber wear, yes?” he asked, adjusting his glasses.

“Uh, y-yes,” you said. Maybe taking a relaxing shower would alleviate your throat soreness. “I’ll um, just g-get them from my s-suitcase,” you said, pointing to it. “Um, t-thanks for carrying it for me, uh, b-by the way,” Tenya nodded.

“I do not believe it would be appropriate to expect a lady to carry her luggage,” he explained, watching you open the suitcase and look through it for your sleeping clothes. Once you gathered everything, you scurried to the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

“What is wrong with me!?” you hissed, walking to the large tub, and turning on the water. You stripped your clothes off and carefully climbed inside, sighing in contentment as the water eased your body’s muscles. You lay there for what felt like hours before carefully climbing back out.

Droplets of water fell from your body, creating a rhythmic pattern as they hit the floor. You drained the tub before walking to the sink. You placed your hands on the counter and looked at your reflection in the mirror. You felt a bit odd and wondered if you had spent a little too much time in the tub.

Well, maybe you’d feel better when you lay down. Once you had dried off, you slipped on a white tank top, a short sleeve shirt, and a pair of sweatpants. “The b-bathroom is free,” you said, walking past the bed. “Hm?” Tenya was sitting on the right side of it reading a book.

“Oh, I see. Thank you,” he replied, closing his book, and placing it on the nightstand near the bed. You closed your eyes, feeling an overwhelming urge to lie down. You pulled back the blanket and sat, pressing one hand against the mattress to feel its firmness.

You looked up when Tenya stood, although he didn’t say anything when he gathered his sleeping clothes and headed to the bathroom. You took a deep breath, coughing softly when you laid your head down and pulled the blanket back over you.

The sound of running water accompanied by the rain and thunder that still bellowed outside helped you drift off to sleep, but a few hours later you woke up sweating. “Ah…” you blinked, feeling exhausted, and reached up to touch your forehead. ‘Why am I so hot?’ you thought, wiping your face dry.

Hearing soft snoring, you turned your head. Tenya was lying beside you in blue pajamas and a matching sleeping cap. His face looked content and part of you wondered what he was dreaming about if he was dreaming about anything at all.

‘Maybe this fever will go down if I keep resting’ you thought as you closed your eyes and tried to relax your body. Unfortunately, you found yourself restless and your fever grew more severe, making you whimper on occasion. This combined with the nauseating feeling growing in your stomach finally made you sit up.

“I’m gonna barf…” you muttered, turning to look at Tenya to ensure he was still asleep. The last thing you wanted was to wake him up, especially after all the planning he had put into this camping trip. Besides, maybe it was better you dealt with this by yourself as you never wanted to burden others. You winced, holding your stomach as you stood.

You swallowed hard, tasting acid on your tongue. You turned to look at Tenya one last time before scurrying to the bathroom quietly. Your breathing was heavy and sweat dripped from your skin so profusely that your clothing stuck to your skin making movement uncomfortable.

As you swallowed again, you slowly pulled your arms inside your shirt. You intended to take it off despite being hunched over the toilet. You sighed in relief when the cool air hit your skin, somewhat thankful you made the choice to wear a tank top underneath said shirt.

At the moment, it didn't matter to you that it was white and see-through. You closed your eyes and wiped the sweat from your brow, your mouth salivated so much it dripped down your chin. You dry heaved, feeling your stomach twist until its contents splashed into the toilet.

When you coughed, Tenya's eyes fluttered open and he turned his head, noticing you absent from the bed. He sat up slowly and grabbed his glasses. He was more than certain the noise that had woken him was you.

It was natural that he wanted to check you were okay, so he stood up and walked to the bathroom, noticing that the door was closed. He pressed his ear against it growing more concerned when he heard heavy breathing, followed by sniffles. He frowned and paused before knocking three times.

You snapped your head up, eyes wide but vision blurry as you looked at the bathroom door. “Y/n, do you require assistance?” he asked, and you latched onto your lip to suppress the gag threatening to come. The inside of your mouth tasted sour, and your throat burned.

You shifted your eyes back and forth, knowing if you didn’t answer soon, he’d likely do something drastic. “I…” Your voice was weak, but you tried to push through it. “I…I don’t know,” you replied, before wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

Your answer alarmed Tenya, and seconds later he heard a toilet flush followed by running water. “What is the matter? Are you feeling ill? Are you injured?” he questioned, feeling ridiculous for talking to you through a door. You took a deep breath, resting your hand on your stomach.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror, noticing your hair was disheveled and your cheeks red. Your eyes looked swollen and irritated, in other words, you were a mess. “I…just…” Maybe it would be better if he saw for himself.

“Um, t-the door is open,” you said reluctantly. “Very well, may I enter now?” came his reply. “…yeah,” the door squeaked, and you wrapped your arms around yourself before turning to face him. His eyes widened upon seeing you, noting your irritated-looking eyes and reddened face.

He didn’t want to assume anything, but you certainly looked ill. “Forgive me, but you look rather...ill and I do not believe I have a thermometer so I cannot take an accurate measure to confirm or deny any possible fever,” he replied, tapping his chin. “I…I’m not running a fever,” you lied.

He narrowed his eyes and reached out. “Pardon my touch,” he said, pressing his hand against your forehead. Yes, it was a rather outdated method to use, but it would allow him to feel your temperature regardless. “Hm,” he raised his eyebrows and lowered his hand.

“Your forehead is rather warm,” he noted. “May I check your pulse?” You blinked in response, hissing softly when you noticed how dry your eyes felt. “Um…okay?” you replied and gasped when he took your wrist, pressing his thumb against it.

The seconds ticked by awkwardly as you clenched your bottom lip. “Your pulse appears slightly elevated, suggesting possible sickness,” he said, lowering your wrist. “Oh um…” you wrapped your arms around yourself again, suddenly anxious, and self-aware of your see-through tank top.

“Hey Iida,” you said, glancing away shyly. “Yes?” he replied. “Uh…c-could you…get me another tank top? The black one from my luggage?” you asked sweetly, nervously rubbing your upper arms. Tenya knitted his eyebrows together, uncertain why you asked for a tank top when you already had one on.

However, out of curiosity, he glanced down, and his eyes widened. He covered his mouth when he noticed that the fabric of your current tank top was rather…well perhaps it was rude to continue to stare at someone's exposed body.

“Y-yes!” he suddenly shouted, immediately looking away from you. His cheeks glowed a furious red color which was accompanied by a feeling of shame. He knew he should not look at a young lady in such a disrespectful manner. It was improper!

After all, he did not mean to look at you that way, but it seems his mistake caused him a bit of embarrassment. “I would be honored to…” He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the unfamiliar heat that ran through his cheeks.

“I would be honored to assist you, please give me a moment,” he said, promptly turning around and scurrying out of the bathroom. He took deep breaths as he opened your suitcase, searching for the black tank top you requested.

Despite his concern about his fast-paced heartbeat, he believed it to be a natural reaction given his feelings toward you. Of course, he didn't want to ruin your friendship by acting on said feelings. “Here we are,” he said, neatly folding the article of clothing before returning to the bathroom.

“I do hope this is the correct item,” he said, hesitantly holding it out. “Yeah,” you replied, taking it. Unless you were in a relationship or classified yourself as a free spirit there was a certain level of modesty when it came to changing in front of the opposite or even the same sex.

However, given how horrible you felt now you didn’t think twice about turning your back on him and removing your current tank top. Tenya’s eyes widened when he realized what you were doing. His cheeks flushed, and he immediately raised his hand, intent on scolding you, but no words came out.

Despite not anticipating activating his engines, his nervous state made them spark to life and a soft rumbling echoed through the air. “P-pardon!” he stuttered and turned to face the door, feeling his heart accelerate again. “Hm?” You paused and briefly looked over your shoulder at him.

‘Weird…’ you thought, before dropping the white tank top to the floor. A groan escaped your lips as you slipped the black tank top over your head. While he knew it was rude to look at you when you were topless or changing, your groan concerned him enough to make him turn his head.

That's when he noticed the scars on your back, and instead of flushing yet again or feeling embarrassed, he grew concerned. Although your scars looked old and healed, he wanted to know what caused them. It is natural for heroes to receive injuries which then created long-lasting scars.

But yours almost looked…well perhaps it was more appropriate he didn't assume where they came from. He turned his head back, feeling the slightest amount of sweat drip down his face and he almost regretted not having brought a handkerchief to bed.

He cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his pajama top, and was tempted to undo the first few buttons to cool himself. His cheeks were a deep rosy color, and his engines continued to rumble softly although he hoped they were not too audible.

Just as you finished putting your new tank top on, you heard Tenya clear his throat. “Huh?” you raised an eyebrow when you turned only to stare at his back. “Um...” you stepped closer to him, hesitantly reaching out to touch him.

You stumbled back when he trembled in response and turned to face you, his eyes wide and his face red. You blinked, unsure if you had scared him or if he was beginning to feel sick as well. “Um…a-are you okay?” you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I…” he glanced away. His mind filled with images of those scars, and he lowered his eyebrows in thought. Frankly, he wished to address what he had seen but did not want to appear strange or alarming. Furthermore, he did not wish to force information out of you or make you feel uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat once more and raised his hand, chopping it through the air as he said, “P-perhaps it would be best if we retired to the bed to further address your question.” You knit your eyebrows, not fully understanding him. Then again, did anyone understand Tenya?

Maybe his closest friends, but even they seem baffled by his antics sometimes. You placed your hand on your stomach, somewhat relieved you were feeling better. You shrugged. “Okay?” you replied, following him out of the bathroom. Your fever was still high, and you wiped your brow.

For a split second, you debated running to the ice machine. However, the thought of walking down an empty hotel hallway made you feel uneasy. Come to think of it, you didn’t know how late or early it was, not that it mattered because who knows how long Tenya could take to answer your question.

“Please sit,” he said politely gesturing to the bed. You looked between him and the bed before sitting down as requested. The bed gave a soft squeak when he sat down next to you. The two of you exchanged glances before he cleared his throat.

“I…do not wish for you to think I am being disrespectful when I ask this as I understand personal matters are quite difficult to speak about with those you are not close with,” as painful as it was to admit, despite the many challenges Class A went through together, there was still distance between all of you.

Yes, a few classmates had admitted their personal matters and remorse over certain things or times in their lives. However, he noticed that you tended to keep to yourself. While you were kind and compassionate, there was a shy nature about you, and he had noticed you struggle in social situations before.

“W-what do you mean?” you asked, your voice trembling and your anxiety rising. He was silent for a moment, and you noticed his shoulders were stiff. He shifted his legs almost as though he were uncomfortable, but you swear you heard a soft rumbling.

Was his quirk acting up? You quickly glanced at his face, his eyebrows were lowered and there was an uncertain glance in his eyes. His cheeks were slightly reddened, and his hands were in his lap, but you noticed his fingers were interlocked.

“Forgive me, I believe it would be beneficial if I were to explain more clearly. I…” he took a deep breath, laying his hands flat on his thighs. He cleared his throat again and reached up, tugging at the collar of his pajama top.

“I noticed that there were…rather severe-looking scars on your back.” A chill ran down your spine and you leaned away from him. Your eyes were wide, and he expected you to be angry, but instead a look of hurt and dread spread across your face.

You fisted your hand into your chest and the other into the blanket, keeping silent. Tenya frowned. “I…apologize,” he said, carefully placing his hand over yours but immediately jerked back when you gasped. “I…pardon I did not intend for my touch to-” You shook your head.

“N-no, it’s f-fine Iida,” you replied, despite your heart racing in your chest. “It’s just…” you glanced away, “no...n-no one has asked that b-before.” Then again you weren’t exactly the type to flaunt your body and usually changed in the locker room stall.

You latched onto your lip, the thought of your parents made your stomach twist, and you suppressed a dry heave. “Are you well?” Tenya asked, slightly alarmed, and though you nodded, he wasn’t fully convinced. “Forgive me,” he said, standing up from the bed.

“Perhaps I should not have inquired. I did not wish to make you uncomfortable,” he said, turning with the intent of walking to his side of the bed. “N-no!” you cried out, grabbing his arm. He stumbled back and looked at you bewildered.

“Uh…” You blinked, and your cheeks grew red. You felt so hot you were liable to faint, but you shook your head trying to fight through your anxiety. “S-sorry!” you said, quickly letting go of his arm. You swallowed hard, groaning out of embarrassment.

“Um…I…the s-scars are…” you looked away, rubbing the back of your neck. You felt the bed dip when Tenya sat down again. He wanted nothing more than to comfort you and once again extended his hand, placing it on your shoulder.

Your head shot back, looking at him with wide eyes and parted lips. “Please do not be afraid,” he said, his voice hushed and full of concern. Oddly enough, you smiled and nodded. “Right, s-sorry,” you said, glancing at your lap.

Your throat felt tight, but you forced yourself to speak. “The scars…are from the training m-my parents put me through,” you explained, refusing to lift your head to look at Tenya's expression. You expected him to be worried and maybe even feel sorry for you.

Instead, you gasped when he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you. He knew it was irrational, and he did not know how you would respond. Although he could not confess the feelings he had for you deep down, he would not stop trying to physically prove it to you.

A part of you wanted to push him away because you weren't used to this type of affection, and because you didn't want him to catch whatever you had. But you couldn't help but melt into his touch. He was aware of the training that was deemed necessary in order to become a worthy and true hero.

However, there were other, unethical training methods such as the ones that Shoto went through that proved to leave long-lasting emotional and physical scars. He could not fathom why certain families pushed their children so hard during training.

Yes, a villain would not be easy on a hero, this much was certain. But to inflict such pain that it left physical scars was unacceptable, and it made righteous anger burn deep within him. However, he took a deep breath, calming himself.

“Forgive me,” he said, pulling away. “I…I do not believe I could help myself,” he stated, bringing his hands to his lap. He knew very well that he let his emotions get the better of him and at this moment, he needed to remain focused.

“Would you favor continuing our conversation?” he asked. “Um…well, my p-parents aren’t heroes but…t-they’re rich and w-when my quirk manifested they...” you paused and curled your fingers inward, ignoring how your nails dug into your palms.

He leaned closer with a serious expression on his face. You closed your eyes, sighing. “They…saw promise in it and…wanted to u-use me as a tool. If their daughter c-could be a hero…then it would boost my family‘s name and...r-reputation.” That spark of anger ignited again, but he held himself back from speaking.

You frowned and opened your eyes. “T-they forced me to train...every day. P-pushed me to my limits, and t-that's why I have...scars on my back. They always t-told me heroes don't feel...pain, they just do whatever it takes to gain f-fame.” Your eyes watered over, but you quickly wiped them.

“The...the m-more pain you can withstand, the more l-love you will receive,” you said, continuing to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. “I-I'm sorry,” Tenya frowned, uncertain how to comfort you. “Please do not apologize,” he said, reaching over to gently grab your wrists in order to pull them away from your face.

“You are likely to irritate your eyes further if you continuously rub them,” he explained before cupping your hands in his own. “I am quite honored that you have shared such memories with me, but are you physically and mentally well?” You glanced down, nodding.

“Yeah…” you replied, tightening your grip on his hands. “I live with a r-relative now….” and you hoped it would remain that way. He leaned closer, making you stiffen out of shyness. “Uh…” you dared to look back up and your face flushed when you locked eyes with him.

“I am…grateful to hear you are safe. Please know that I would never allow anyone, not even the fiercest villain to subject you to such injuries or pain.” While you assumed he was lying, the heroic and loving look in his eyes said otherwise.

And the way he embraced you further convinced you. His arm was tightly around your waist, and when he pulled you close, his opposite hand tangled itself in your hair. Whether it was the fever talking or the fact you were a little touch starved, you wrapped your arms around him in return.

His eyes widened and his heart accelerated. Being this close to you was something he always desired, but knew he could not have. At least not now, but there was always hope for the future. After taking a deep breath, he reluctantly pulled back.

His cheeks burned pink, and he cleared his throat, lifting his hand into the air. “Perhaps it would be best if we retired to sleep,” he suggested, and you turned away shyly. “Oh, uh…” How many hours passed anyway? What time was it? You were tempted to look at your phone but decided against it.

“Please allow me,” he said before standing and walking over to your side of the bed. He pulled back the blanket and shifted the pillows. “Hm,” you looked at him with a blank expression but walked over and sat down.

“Place your legs under the blanket,” he instructed and for a moment, you felt like a young child being tucked in but knew you shouldn’t take it that way. Tenya was just trying to be kind and after everything that happened tonight, it felt comforting to be taken care of by someone.

Once your legs were underneath, Tenya pulled the blanket over you and ensured you were comfortable before walking over to his side. Your face was glowing, and you closed your eyes, wishing your fever to go away. When you felt the bed dip, you mumbled and turned on your side so your back faced Tenya.

He glanced at you but said nothing and removed his glasses, placing them on the nightstand by the bed. Then he lay down with his arms by his sides. His attention was focused on the ceiling for a few minutes, allowing silence and your breathing to ease him to sleep.

Morning came too quickly, and the blinds didn’t stop the sunshine from leaking in. You groaned, fluttering your eyes open. Your head ached softly, and sweat droplets trailed down your forehead. You reached up, intent on wiping it but noticed your arms were stuck.

“Huh?” You looked down, and heat rushed over your face when you noticed a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Your eyes widened and you turned your head, seeing Tenya’s sleeping face, and realized how heavy his body felt against yours.

You snapped your head back and panicked as you thought of the ways you could get out of this situation. You also thought of how to wake him up without making this awkward. Then again, maybe there was no way you couldn’t make this awkward.

You moved your body and wiggled your arms to jolt him awake. “Iida, Iida!” you hissed out, and he moved his head with a soft mumble in response. A deep breath sounded before he slowly opened his eyes. “Are you…a-awake?” you asked nervously, and he nodded.

“Yes…” he replied, lowering his eyelids. “What is the matter?” You shivered at the sound of his raspy voice. “Uh…y-you um…” How could you explain that his arms were wrapped around you? Sucking a breath in, you tapped his arm with your fingers.

“Hm?” He glanced down, and upon seeing the rather inappropriate position you were in, he immediately pulled his arms back. He stumbled out of the bed, and you jolted up when he hit the wall. “Iida!” you cried out, your eyes wide with concern and your hand extended in his direction.

“P-please accept my most humble apologies!” he frantically pleaded, placing his hands on his thighs, and bowing. His sleeping cap slipped off his head and fell to the floor. However, he resisted the urge to pick it up until you responded.

You blinked, and slowly pulled your hand back only to fist it into your hair. Your forehead still felt hot, but somehow you felt better than last night. Your cheeks burned red, and you glanced away, unsure how to respond to Tenya’s frantic exclamation.

“I-it’s fine,” you said softly before pulling the blanket back and hanging your legs over the side of the bed. “Um…t-thanks,” you said as Tenya leaned back up. “Hm?” he responded, looking at you despite your back facing him.

“F-for last night um…” you rubbed the back of your head, “I t-think it helped,” as talking things out usually did. He looked taken aback but smiled, “I am very honored to have assisted you in such a way and I do hope to be of more assistance in the future,” yes, he wanted you to run to him whenever you had an issue.

But he supposed only time would tell whether that type of trust strengthened between the two of you and despite no longer being the class president, he still wanted to be your closest friend. You turned to look at him, slightly surprised before looking at the floor. “Oh um…s-sure, maybe?” you replied, standing up and stretching.

“I suggest we change our outfits and relocate to the lobby as breakfast is served promptly from 8 a.m. to 11 a.m. Then perhaps we can depart and resume this scheduled camping trip,” he said, reaching for his glasses and slipping them onto his face.

“R-right,” you replied, walking over to your suitcase, and laying it flat on the floor before opening it. You tapped your lips, deciding what outfit you wanted, unlike Tenya who more than likely already had something picked out.

As the two of you walked to the lobby, there was an awkward silence. Part of you wondered if it was your fault, and your anxious thoughts began. What does he think of you now? Is he going to look at you differently? You clenched your jaw, squeezing your eyes shut.

It was almost like something was about to burst out of you but then you heard a familiar voice. “Y/n!” Ashido called, running up to you. “Excuse me Iida!” she said, looping her arm through yours and dragging you away before you could say anything.

Out of instinct or panic, you held your hand out to Iida. However, due to his past experiences with Ashido, he thought it best not to interrupt whatever conversation she wanted with you. “Hey, Iida!” Uraraka called, she was currently sitting at one of the tables available in the lobby with Izuku.

He smiled and looked at you one last time before walking over. “How was your night with Y/n?” she asked when he approached. He paused, recalling last night's events, and cleared his throat. Uraraka tilted her head, noticing the flush on Tenya’s cheeks.

Izuku noticed this as well and they both exchanged a glance before Uraraka smiled. “What happened between you and Y/n last night?!” she questioned excitedly, and Tenya stiffened. “I…I believe I will gather my breakfast,” he stated, quickly walking away from the table and toward the breakfast area.

“Mm…” Uraraka pouted and scanned the room, easily spotting you and Ashido. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Izuku before walking away. “Your flushed face says everything! So, spill it!” Ashido shouted, raising her arms above her head. “Iida was flushing too!” Uraraka said, approaching your table.

You shivered when she turned to you and smiled. “Is everything okay between you two?” she asked suspiciously, and you shook your head. “N-no, I m-mean yes, I...I mean...” you groaned out of embarrassment. You took a breath, trying to gather your composure.

“I was just a-about to tell Mina t-that nothing happened just…” you rubbed the back of your head, glancing at your lap. “We just h-had a talk,” the girls leaned forward, eager to hear more. “A-and well…” you nervously chuckled. “I’m g-glad that he’s my f-friend.” Ashido sighed. “Seriously!?” she cried out, clearly disappointed.

Uraraka frowned and leaned closer to you. “Nothing happened between you two?” she asked, pouting. You nodded and shrugged, “Sorry?” you said before turning your head to look at Tenya who had gathered a plate of food, and happiness washed over you. ‘Yeah...just a friend’ you thought with a bright smile.

[whoreforhorror]

Hellooooo! I’m back again 😗

Can I do a request where the s/o has a hard time sleeping so they kinda just walk around the house or sit somewhere else that isn’t the bedroom until they feel tired. They try not to wake the slashers (hence the being in another room) but the slashers obviously wake up and comfort the reader and eventually get them to sleep.

As always, Bo, Vince, and Brahms 🫡

Thank you so much, you’re amazing in every way.

Hello again, Sketchy! Glad to hear from you again! I know I said this with the first request you sent me but this one is also SO ME! Actually, I write everything in this sort of mode when its 12pm-4am and I can’t sleep. I had an absolute blast writing this! I think you’ll really like this one and it might just be my favorite that I’ve written for you!

Bo, Vincent, and Brahms with an S/O who wanders/sits around when they can’t sleep

Bo Sinclair:

You had promised yourself that tonight you were going to make yourself lay in bed and wait for sleep to come, yet here you were now. Bo had been asleep for half an hour before you’d gotten up and moved into the living room. It was like this every night, nearly. Sleep didn’t come easy so you’d move to sit in the living room until you felt you were about to pass out. 

You spent the time reading, catching up on things that you hadn’t gotten to in the day, or just generally lazing around and thinking about anything that came to mind. Music was also a close companion to you in these late hours. In general, you figured that moving to the living room would spare Bo from having to deal with any of it. He worked hard during the day and was bone tired by the time he laid down in bed. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him up with your… Insomnia? Anxiety? Restlessness. 

You’d walk around if you weren’t worried about Vincent in the basement. He needed his sleep for his creativity. This particular night, you sat staring at a blank tv and thinking about nothing in particular. Sleep felt closer than it had two hours ago when you’d first gotten out of bed, but still much too far away to think you’d be asleep any time soon.

You’d been sort of spacing off in thought when you heard the stairs creak, alerting you that Bo had woken up. You turned your head to greet him as he reached the main floor and you swear you saw him jump just a bit when you spoke and asked why he was up. He said he was looking for you. A hint of guilt rose up the back of your throat knowing that he was up late because of you.

He shuffled over to join you on the couch, sleep seemingly doubling down on Bo to make up for your restlessness. He slung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him as he moved your head to rest on him. His voice was gruff, evidence that he hadn’t been up for long, as he asked why you were up. When you told him you couldn’t sleep, he gave a low hum in response. After a few long moments of silence, he spoke back up to ask how often this happened. To your reply of ‘often’ he hummed again.

The two of you sat like that for a long while, in the dark and in silence. The stillness of it all, mixed with the warmth Bo was radiating seemed to make your eyelids heavy and your thoughts slow. You were only half conscious by the time he shuffled the both of you, him laying down with you on top of him, your head on his chest as his arms rested on your back as if to make sure you stayed there. As if you wanted to be anywhere else in this moment. 

Your breathing got slower, deeper as your blinks grew longer and longer. One of Bo’s hands left its position on your back to pet your hair. You were out before you knew it, sleeping deeper than you had in weeks. Bo was better than any glass of warm milk or blanket straight from the dryer could ever be. 

By the time you wake up, the sun has risen and Bo has left the couch. You had a blanket over you and pulled up to your chin. You would have thought you’d imagined the whole night if it weren’t for the faint smell of Bo that still lingered on your clothes and the couch below you. 

After that night, Bo held you a little closer in bed. He stayed up a little later to see how tired you were, and would ask more often how you slept in the morning. It didn’t always fix your restlessness, but you didn’t leave bed quite as often and that was progress.

Vincent Sinclair:

Vincent is a really, REALLY light sleeper so it’s basically impossible to do anything but lay in bed with your thoughts or the sketchbook Vincent gifted you a while back, if you remembered to put it somewhere you can reach it. Sitting with your thoughts or drawing/writing in your sketchbook are really your only two options.

Vince also stays up really late, so for you to be up later than him is quite the achievement. Still, insomnia is no match for the late-night habits of an artist. You’ve been awake for about an hour since he fell asleep, and you were starting to get restless. Before him, you’d move to a different room if you were going to sit. Beds made you toss and turn in discomfort, but Vince already got so little sleep as it is, so you’d made the decision to bear through it.

Until you couldn’t. You just couldn’t take laying down and tossing around in bed. You had to sit up and do something, ANYTHING besides lay there. Just as you thought, the instant you sit up, Vince is awake and looking at you. You had to explain why you were up, being unable to sleep and feeling trapped just laying down. He gets it, he really does. Before you, he’d had the same issues.

Vincent sits up and takes a second to wake up a bit more before standing up and turning to help you up as well. You looked at him with confusion but took his hand regardless. He guided you out of the basement, motioning for you to be quiet and pointing upstairs to remind you that Bo was sleeping in the house as well. You felt like two delinquent teens trying to sneak out of the house without your parents noticing. Vince gave you an extra sweater of his and you both set out walking.

You held his hand, swinging it back and forth as you both strolled through town. The cicadas and other wildlife were loud, using their restlessness to make a song unique to the nights in the south. It was peaceful, if a bit chilly. Your eyes were up at the stars and the moon that hung in the air as if it had been painted there. Vincent must have noticed because he took a quick turn, deviating from the town roads and leading you into one of the abandoned houses.

You both went up the stairs and then out of a window in one of the bedrooms, climbing a ledge before finally settling down on the roof of one of the taller houses in town. There was already a blanket and some small art supplies in a box, indicating that Vince comes here often. It wouldn’t have surprised you if he did, knowing how much he loved the quiet and knowing how loud Bo could be in the house.

You were curled into Vince’s side as he laid on his back, getting a small sketchbook out of the little box and flipping through the pages. He’d drawn different parts of the night sky and marked out different constellations. He held the book up to the sky, matching the drawing to the location it held then pointing to the name of the constellations on the bottom of the page. Stargazing.

This when on for a while, and you realized occasionally that you weren’t paying attention. Your eyes were unfocused and your ears seemed to stop listening to the surrounding drone of the night. Vince caught on and set the book back into the box, closing it before moving to hold you. You were softly asleep soon after that.

When you woke up, you were back in the basement. It was sometime in the late morning and Vince was working on his newest sculpture while you laid firmly tucked into bed. His attention shifted to you as you sat up and rubbed your eyes. When you asked him how you’d gotten back, he’d signed that he’d carried you back home after you fell asleep. He also pointed to the glass of water he’d gotten you for when you woke up.

Stars and stargazing became a lot more of a symbol for the two of you after that night, leading Vince to get you a star necklace and nicknamed you 'his stars'. The two of you would have dates on that roof from time to time, and Vince had started planning to propose to you on that same roof when the time was right.

Brahms Heelshire:

The Heelshire manor was huge. There were rooms upon rooms upon rooms that were rarely or never used. It made for great wandering when you found yourself wide awake once again late at night. Maybe one day you’d even have the place mapped out in your mind. At the rate you wandered at night, it might only take you a couple of weeks. Sometimes, you’d think of different situations to keep your mind entertained. You were an old victorian ghost, haunting your old homestead centuries after your tragic death. You were a spy, sneaking into the house of a grand tzar to gather intel and maybe a few valuables for the road. Every night it was something new. Only one thing really had to be kept in mind. You HAD to be silent.

Brahms was a light sleeper at the best of times, so it’s a miracle that you could get out of bed to walk around at all. At this hour, squeaky floorboards, stairs, and doors were your worst enemy, and in a house as old as the Heelshire place? It was quite the task to avoid them. 

This night, in particular, you were wandering around the upper floors, seeing the different bedrooms and such as you went down the halls. Your mind was off somewhere else. You were an adventurer looking for the stolen diamond, a pirate hunting down the X on their map, a nanny with a possible case of insomnia, and a very large house calling your name. 

You were so far off in thought, in fact, that you’d forgotten that the particular door you were about to open had a particularly loud set of hinges. The resounding creak that came from them sure seemed to remind you, drawing your attention back to now as it echoed down the halls. You froze. The house was quiet at any given moment, being that it was just you and Brahms, but at night it was like a cool blanket settled over the place, muffling any noise from outdoors and sucking away any sounds of the heater or water running through pipes that you’d normally hear. 

You continued to stand, stock-still as you listened for any sign of Brahms. He’d surely throw a fit if he woke up to find that you weren’t in bed with him. Sure, he could sleep for days, but only if you were with him. If you’re not in his arms, he’s just as good at catching sleep as you are, which is to say it would completely evade him. Without sleep, he grew grumpy and short-tempered which would surely wind up in a fit. It was just better not to wake him up and alert him to your absence.

Any home of that went down the drain as you heard a high-pitched childish voice call out your name in confusion behind you, scaring you to death and back as you whipped around to see Brahms standing not too far away down the hall. He’d been absolutely silent in sneaking up behind you so quickly. You prepared yourself for some sort of whining or meltdown, apologizing softly for waking him up and explaining that you were just walking around because you couldn’t sleep. 

You suggested he go back to bed. He’d responded in the same childish voice “sleep with me.” and you could only get out his name in a sigh before he grabbed your hand, tightly but not forcefully, and started walking in the direction of the room you two shared. He wouldn’t take any version of no for an answer. It was frustrating, sure, but you knew in the back of your mind that he was doing it because he cared.

He lays down, bringing you with him and cuddling you in such a way that you were both on your sides, facing each other in a loose hug with Brahms’ leg thrown over your hips. You couldn’t go anywhere if you tried. After a moment, when you’re both settled and comfortable, Brahms starts humming softly. Not in his high-pitched, childish voice. No, he was humming in his low, natural voice, one of his favorite classical songs you’d often play while reading to him. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes before you were waking up the next morning.

Brahms learns, after this incident, that you’ll relax from just about anything if he hums to you. Angry? Humming. Stressed out? Humming. Crying? Humming. It’s his go-to cure and it works 90% of the time.

[tokusaatsus]

Hi! I really love your works and it's always fun and enjoying to read them! It's a shame that I didn't made it for the event reqs but i saw that regular reqs are open, if that's what you call them? XD Anyway, can I request for Kohaku, Mayoi, and Hiiro being a secret admirer to the reader? Thank you!

HOW THEY WOULD ACT AS A SECRET ADMIRER

ft. amagi hiiro, ayase mayoi, oukawa kohaku

© tokusaatsus 2022

warnings: none (as of now)

In my opinion, Hiiro is too honest and straight-forward to be considered a ‘secret’ admirer. I feel like he wouldn’t see any reason to hide the fact that he is the one sending you the letters?

Since he wants you to see them and feel appreciated, he would probably think you’d like it better if you knew who your admirer was.

The only reason he doesn’t is because Aira assured him it would be more romantic that way. Out of the two of them, Aira is the more well-versed in pop culture, so Hiiro decides to take him at face value.

I am a firm believer in the idea that Hiiro unironically enjoys puns. So he probably sends you lovemail in that style. Little sticky notes with cute doodles and adorable puns pasted on your desk, or on your doorframe.

Like:

If you were a vegetable you’d be a cute-cumber ♡ or Are you a banana? Because I find you very a-peel-ing ♡

They’re small, usually mentioning food or animals, but they still manage to fluster you with their simplicity.

He places them at intervals–one in the morning, and one in the evening!

It’s especially sweet when you’re having a bad day and you just see these cute little notes. It makes you brighten up and forget your worries, even if it’s only for a little bit.

And that’s exactly what Hiiro wants! He’s glad that he’s able to bring you even a fraction of the joy he gets when he’s around you.

Signs off with little spades, just as a hint!

He does reveal himself eventually, though, because he feels like there’s no need for him to remain a secret anymore.

The only reason you didn’t suspect him to be your secret admirer despite the teeny spade doodles is because you thought that he wouldn’t hide it, rather he would just outright tell you, which is why you’re so surprised when you realise.

Even after you find out, he still makes it a habit to send you the puns–though not so secretly–because he likes seeing you smile when you receive them!

Mayoi is probably the most secretive out of the 3. He would rather die than let his position be revealed.

He finds himself writing you flowery, poetry-esque short letters with cute little doodles whenever he’s thinking about you (which is a lot!). He would prefer to never have to send them ever, but he also thinks you deserve to be appreciated for all the hard work and effort you put into things.

You are strong, you are brave, you make flowers bloom in my heart. A whole garden, just for you. My heart, no matter how small and shrivelled, will always have a space for you. You are more perfect than you know ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

He’s certain you wouldn’t like any messages from a gross creature such as himself, so he decides to take the good ol’ secret admirer route.

Goes full-out super spy when it comes to planting your letters.

Crawls into the vents at 4am so he can place them on your desk before school starts, sneaks into the ES kitchen at midnight to place one in your mug, etc, etc. He’s putting those ninja skills to good use!

You’re like a blushing schoolgirl being serenaded, honestly. It’s sweet.

These letters are the highlight of your day. Not just because of how cute they are, but also because no one can figure out where they’re coming from? No matter how hard you try, you can never catch the culprit who is slowly but surely stealing your heart!?

The actual reveal happens by accident.

You wake up in the middle of night, craving the most delicious drink known to mankind. You open the kitchen doors and lo and behold, what do you find but Mayoi, a piece of paper in one hand and your favoured mug in the other.

Hang on… Your sleep-addled brain starts to connect the dots. Is Mayoi-san…my secret admirer?

Starts stammering about how y-you’ve got it a-a-all wrong and eep! I’m s-s-sorry for r-ruining your night!

You giggle, startling him, and tell him that it’s okay before thanking him for how sweet his words were. You tell him that he also has a special place in your heart and he nearly dies. Hopefully you know CPR? Or maybe…mouth-to-mouth?

Sends you shoujo-style lovemail in the form of adorable letters praising all your virtues and commenting on how cute you are when you smile.

You wouldn’t expect Kohaku to write such cheesy things so easily, but all those Ghibli marathons with Aira have paid off. It started off as a way for Kohaku to express his feelings for you in secret, but after a few too-close calls with Rinne, he decided to kill two birds with one stone.

This way, he can tell you how he feels without embarrassing himself and also seeing how you flush every time you see one of his letters on your desk makes him more pleased then the cat that caught the canary.

Dear Y/N,

I hope your day is going well?

People always talk about how bright the sun is, but I think you’re the brightest thing in my sky. You push me to be the best version of myself, I want to be the way you see me. You manage to stay brave and strong, and I admire your desire to be the very best you can be. You’re a blessing to the people around you, and I thought you should know this. I’m not…very good at expressing my emotions but, I hope that this could make you smile just a little bit. That’s all.

You deserve good things.

Love, 🌸

His letters are so sweet and heartfelt, they make you giddy.

You slowly start anticipating the letters everyday. There’s always a kind note and a query about your day, it feels like the writer really cares about you.

This goes on for around a month, and then you decide that you need to find your so-called secret admirer so you can thank them for their kind words and praise.

When he finds out you’re looking for the writer of the letters, Aira pushes him to reveal himself but Kohaku doesn’t want to. He feels like it might be a letdown for you, and he doesn’t want to tarnish your experience.

But Aira, who knows that there’s no way you would shun him for something like this–actually there’s no way you would ever shun him, period–decides to casually let it slip in conversation that Kohaku’s been writing love letters for someone. Oh, Y/N, you are the recipient of these letters? How shocking~

When you thank Kohaku earnestly for how kind he is–and be sure to compliment him about his writing skills while you’re at it!–he’s flustered like you wouldn’t believe, but also incredibly happy as well. 

notes!

WC: 1.1k

reze txt HELP this was so long omg im?? but secret admirers are sooo cute ahhhh <33 i hope this made up for u missing my 100 followers event anonnie! and that it was as enjoyable to read as it was to write!!

[sotie-art]

✨️lil updates on life and how it might impact my silly doodles in a few weeks✨️

(This writing is probably a mess, since I'm doing it like 4am 🤡)

I have been taking a break from the sdv animatic that I started in Aug. I would still love to continue working on it. However, my life is going to be a bit hectic in the foreseeable future with me moving across the country and cutting ties with my family in a few weeks.

This has been taking a huge toll on my mental health. (Especially the later one cuz yikes my brain is acting up again 😬) (dw I got supports I will be ok and it is for the better)

This also means i have no idea how often I will be able to post my silly doodles during that period of time. I still have couple wips that I am still working on before anything happens anyway.

But yeah, that is pretty much it. Thank you for reading my little update. ❤️

[mellowwfever]

— ♡ “ All that mattered. ” ♡

↳ Kurokawa Izana x Reader

— There might be a couple of swear words, mostly from Izana and he might be a bit OOC. Also, the ending is a bit rushed since I didn't know how to end it, but whatever. It's a little cheesy, I can't help myself. Are pet names a warning? This just randomly popped up in my head so I had to write it so it will leave me alone. Not proof read at all.

A/N: I'm madly in love with this man, I just can't help it. I'd sell my sould to him if he'd ask me to. I wrote this at like 4AM. I don't know what this is, don't ask me.

↳ Word Count: 867

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Since you were little, you always tend to pay attention to what people would say about you or how they see you, a habit or, better said, insecurity that stuck to you from your childhood. Your mother would always talk about looking and acting appropriately so that your peers would see you only in a positive light. Appearances and reputation were always something she cared about a little too much, and she did everything just so you would too. All it did, however, was just made you insecure in some ways. There were still things that you didn't care about regarding other people's opinions towards you.

Your relationship with Kurokawa Izana was one of them. Izana was a well-known and fearsome man. So it was simply natural that people would start talking and making up silly rumors when it came to attention that the cold-hearted King of Tenjiku seemed to have a very close relationship with this person that seemingly came out of nowhere. That person being you.

If you were to be completely honest, it all developed pretty unexpectedly for both of you as well. You knew Izana and Kakucho for a long time, meeting them back when both of them lived in an orphanage. You met them by an accident, but something in you seemed to catch Kurokawa's attention, and he quickly proclaimed you as his future spouse. You just thought him to be a little odd and didn't take his words seriously until a couple of years later two very familiar to you boys showed up at your doorstep. You immediately recognized the vibrant lilac eyes of your old friend and didn't oppose when he took your hand, leading you to your new kingdom.

Though you knew exactly what the risks of being with Izana were, you didn't care. You knew of his dangerous temper and violent tendencies, but you decided that it didn't bother you. Admittedly, it was hard to scrab your way through all of his walls and shells, but you still managed to do so in the end, and you never regretted it once. Your heart and loyalty belonged fully to Izana, and you swore that it will always stay that way.

You weren't bothered by the looks and whispers that were occasionally thrown your way, so it was fine. Izana, however, did seem very annoyed by it, and he did offer you to "deal with the lowly morons", but you always just shrugged it off. Your relationship with him was your business only, so who cares what some idiots think about it.

"I just don't see why it bothers you this much." you would always say whenever he'd bring up his frustrations about the looks you were always given. He'd turn to you with a serious look on his face while frowning at your dismissive attitude.

"My darling, I just can't have that ugly dirt disrespecting my precious beloved." he'd state matter-of-factly as if it was the most obvious thing in the whole world. "It seems that a few fools have forgotten their place. That scum thinks they have permission to even utter your beautiful name in a bad manner, so they need to be taught a lesson."

You stiffen an urge to giggle at how serious he looks, his threats and harsh words not affecting you in the slightest. If anything, you find it utterly endearing just how protective he gets over something so insignificant to you. You move closer to him, gently taking one of his hands in both your own. He quickly places his free hand on your waist, subtly tugging you closer to himself. You could faintly recall how he would flinch whenever you touched him without alerting him first back when your relationship was only starting, and it warms your heart how much comfortable he is with your touch now.

"Izana, dear, you know that I don't care what some random people think about me or our relationship. They can talk all they want, it doesn't change anything anyways. I still love you with all of my beings and a few dirty looks and silly insults won't affect anything."

He seemed to actually stop and think about your words for a few seconds before letting out an annoyed huff.

"I know, my love. But I still don't intend to just let that go and ignore the way they treat you. Their behavior does not deserve any mercy. You can't change my mind, darling."

You sigh but nod. To be completely honest, you didn't expect anything else. Izana was always extremely stubborn and there were very few things that could ever change his mind once he was set on something. So you just lean your head on his shoulder, feeling him pull you even closer to him, almost in a protective manner.

You didn't care about your reputation since you were prepared for that sort of backlash when you accepted a declaration of love from Kurokawa Izana and promised to always remain by his side. But as long as he allowed you to be this close to him, to love him and cherish all of the affection he showered you with, it was all that mattered.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

[risingscorchingsuns]

Hikaru’s Beetle Breathing Facts!! 🪲

HIIII it’s almost 4am and god forbid i sleep for longer than four hours at a time so im gonna infodump about Beetle Breathing!!! Ive had the forms written out since like, December, I can’t believe I haven’t posted them yet lol

I’ll add to this list as I edit and write, but for now, enjoy!! This is equal parts infodumping and fun facts about the technique 🪲

PLEASE ask if u have questions! I’m not sure if im describing this as accurately as I could, id love to ramble if you need clarification!! Feedback is also encouraged- this is mostly a first draft! If you have ideas for making the form more balanced, I’d love to hear it!! I aim for Beetle Breathing to come off as a unique adaptation of Flame and Insect Breathing meant exclusively for Karu’s abilities, but I worry it comes off as “it’s the two mashed together to be more powerful than anything else” lol

• Appearance-wise, Beetle Breathing is most similar to Serpent Breathing, actually!!! In the sense that they’re both creature-based instead of element-based, illusions of beetle anatomy and such will appear when Hikaru uses his forms, like how serpents appear when Obanai uses his. (I know the author said you can’t see the forms technically but shhhh it’s not real canon can be whatever I want)

• The general color associated with Beetle Breathing is indigo, the same as Hikaru’s blade! As well as seeing bigass bug parts, viewing Beetle Breathing also has brief flashes of indigo where Hikaru slashes. I’m not sure if I’m explaining this well, ill have to draw it lol

• Beetle Breathing is a branch of Insect Breathing, with Flame Breathing used to supplement it. For the first few months of being an official Slayer, Hikaru used Insect Breathing- it was also the form he passed Final Selection with. When Shinobu found him in the woods, the two were similar in build, so she taught him to utilize his agility for her poisons. He was… okay at it. He never quite had the grace of Shinobu- his agility was better suited for traversing forest floors and climbing trees. He tripped a lot learning Butterfly Dance. But he got the hang of it well enough to pull it off, and went into the Corps as a user of Insect Breathing. But as he became stronger physically, (especially after he started T and bulked up a bit,) it was sort of the final nail in the coffin for Hikaru’s Insect Breathing career. He was agile, sure, but he wasn’t very graceful, and also he kind of sucked at poisons. But both Shinobu and Hikaru knew there were aspects of Insect Breathing that suited him- he may have gotten stronger physically, but that didn’t mean simply switching forms altogether was the best option for him. So, thus began the development of Beetle Breathing, an offshoot of Insect Breathing!

• Formwise, Beetle Breathing uses a lot of the same movements as Insect Breathing. The main key difference is that instead of using sharp jabs to pressure points to inject poison, Beetle Breathing supplements Flame Breathing’s physical strength to replace the jabs with slashes. It’s like a dance, but instead of grace, it’s built on power and Hikaru’s determination.

• Flame Breathing’s power comes from passion, and passion comes from emotion. Beetle Breathing is similar- the strength in its strikes is derived from Flame Breathing’s inner flame technique, supplementing Hikaru’s physical strength where ordinarily it would be Shinobu’s grace. Shinobu personally requested Kyojuro to help Hikaru develop Beetle Breathing- she recognized Kyojuro was the best fit for the fighting style Hikaru was trying to develop. She did not, however, anticipate that the two would fall in love lol

• While the movements are initially based off Insect Breathing, as I mentioned Hikaru is clumsy as fuck when it comes to dancing- he’s much better suited for skittering about in the woods lol. He took Insect Breathing’s dances as a blueprint, and studied both the stances and movements of Flame Breathing, and the movements of Kani, his Kasugai Beetle ‘Crow’. Flame Breathing is more centered in your core and chest, which was helpful for Hikaru to maintain his balance when fighting, as well as utilizing the full extent of his agility.

• The only written records of Beetle Breathing are in the pocket journal Hikaru always carries- he struggles with memory due to PTSD, so he writes a lot of things down. His journal is the only physical information about Beetle Breathing’s existence, as well as detailed instructions on its history, execution and development. Kyojuro gave these instructions to Senjuro after Hikaru’s death, who transcribed them into an archive. It isn’t well-known like Flame Breathing- but it’s preserved. Hikaru’s legacy, tucked away in a corner of the Rengoku estate.

• A lot of Beetle Breathing’s physical manifestations make use of mimicry and other anti-predatory or distraction techniques used by insects. This is most notable in forms Four and Six.

• Beetle Breathing as a technique isn’t more powerful than Insect or Flame Breathing individually- it’s just better suited to Hikaru’s fighting style and physical abilities. It’s made by him, so it grows and adapts with him. He’s not suited for using Flame or Insect Breathing by themself, so he took the bits that work for him and made them into something new.

FORMS!

There are six forms of Beetle Breathing, just like the six legs of an insect. There’s a brief blurb for appearances, but it’s very unfinished and definitely not final lol. Universally, the Beetle Breathing attacks have indigo flashes in the wake of sword movements. The forms are as follows:

First Form: Mandibles’ Genesis

Execution: The user will burst forward, following with two horizontal slashes in an X shape. Usually aimed at the neck of a demon for decapitation. Could be suited for dual-wielding, but since Hikaru just uses one blade, the X motion is executed with turns of the wrist. The motion can be initiated from a low strike or a high one.

Appearance: The mandibles of a male stag beetle will manifest around the target, seemingly closing around it as the X-slash is executed.

Second Form: Mirrored Horn Strike

Execution: The user darts forward, executing an upward vertical slash brought up from a tail guard. Immediately followed by an identical downward vertical slash. Similar to Flame Breathing’s Second and Third forms, simplified for the sake of speed and accuracy. Less powerful than the Flame forms, but more versatile.

Appearance: A rhinoceros beetle is seen on the slashes, rearing up as through to strike with its horn.

Third Form: Fractured Elytra

Execution: A spinning defensive move that uses the weight of the user’s body as momentum, unleashing an arcing circular attack. The movements and power behind the strike are derived from Flame Breathing’s Blooming Flame Undulation, but the agility required for the momentum is necessary from Insect Breathing’s Dance of the Bee Sting.

Appearance: being fr with you guys on this one, I have no idea what it would look like. Maybe a flared elytra behind the user, with open beetle wings in a circle behind them? Ideas welcome!

Fourth Form: Compound Ocellus

Execution: this one is heavily inspired by the mimicry adaption of eyespots, used for distraction or dissuasion of predators. The user increases their agility using breathing, darting around the target and leaving afterimages to confuse them. The afterimages mimic the user, jabbing and slashing at the target in a cascading mirror image. The user will weaken the target with up to six strikes and jabs, before ultimately beheading them in a final blow. The six strikes and agility are derived from Insect Breathing’s Butterfly Dance: Caprice.

Appearance: Fairly self-explanatory, leaves afterimages of the user that mimic their movements for a short time before fading. (Think kind of like Killua’s technique Rhythm Echo, if you’re familiar with HxH!) Additionally, I’d imagine the target would see eyespots in their peripheral vision, similar to that of the eyed click beetle.

Fifth Form: Catalyst Armor

Execution: The user utilizes their breathing to circulate blood flow more efficiently, thickening their skin and heightening their reflexes. This serves for both a faster recovery and reaction time, as well as making it more difficult to be seriously injured. This form is best utilized in tandem with other forms, but doing so is incredibly difficult due to the immense amount of focus required to maintain the armor.

Appearance: A sort of transparent shimmer appears around the user like an aura, like the iridescence of a beetle shell.

Sixth Form: Kaleidoscopic Swarm

Execution: The user ricochets off of nearby surroundings in faster and faster succession, darting in to deliver fierce, powerful slashes that stack up in damage the longer the form is used. Can be used to weaken powerful demons, take out large numbers of weaker ones, or as a distraction technique. Difficult to maintain, but devastating if used effectively.

Appearance: Again, I’m not really sure how this would work in terms of appearance, but I’d imagine the movements are hexagonal in nature, leaving afterimages of kaleidoscopes that get more confusing for the target the longer the form is used. I have no idea if this makes sense lol

oops i accidentally spent two hours writing this. back to bed with me enjoy your karu lore!!!!! :D

[roundearthsociety]

This is going to be a tad personal but how do you manage to be trans and catholic? Some of the biggest anti trans voices like Matt Walsh, Michael Knowles and Desantis base their views off that religion. Many trans people on here, Reddit and IRL have nothing but disdain for Catholicism because of the Vatican’s statements and how they’ve been treated. Likewise, a lot of Catholics I’ve seen on tumblr, Reddit and various forums view it as a sin, mental illness or pedophilia and oppose affirming care as well as IVF.

I’m an American exvangelical, who does have some conservative Catholic family members, and I’m trying to broaden my perspective a bit rather than writing Catholicism off as an irredeemable, hateful colonizer ideology and viewing paganism and Reform Judaism as the only valid religions like most Tumblr users do. How do you put up with it when many refuse to affirm it, including the pope who’s still very conservative? I’m not asking to attack your beliefs but are simply curious whether there’s more nuance than people will claim.

This is something that's a bit hard to answer, as someone who's not that good a theologian nor that good at theory. Plus, I'm not side A, so I wouldn't be all that good at discussing Catholicism While Queer with you I suspect. Anyway I will be assuming you, the reader, have got some level of legitimate Christian faith. Because otherwise I'm not sure how to like. Give you that.

So let me preface all of this by recommending you look into queer Catholic organizations such as New Ways Ministry, or especially DignityUSA which I've heard good things about. There are also some Tumblr bloggers on the more affirming side of things, most of them aren't really doing all that much advocacy work either but you might find it interesting to scroll through, idk, and-her-saints or shoutsofmybones's blogs for example, and take a look.

Also: you don't have to give up on Christianity entirely if you can't / would rather not be Catholic! Even if the specific ritual and community aspect is especially important to you, the Episcopal Church is probably decently well implanted where you live and is worth looking into, especially since it doesn't have the embedded political elements that the US Catholic Church tends to have.

As for my own personal answer below - please don't bother to get mad at me for this, it's like 4AM and I'm not too interested in writing a thesis here.

Gender-wise it's honestly pretty straightforward. I know I function better being generally recognized as another sex than I was assigned at birth, with characteristics to match; everything else in terms of gender roles names etc is really just getting a lil silly with it ngl. This is neither especially uncommon nor especially new, and the generally recognized way to deal with this has long been to just let people do their thing. While there are issues with the way that's being done (hey! you should freeze your gametes if that's available to you! don't count on never wanting kids, especially if you're a teenager! trust me on this one.), a lot of the modern discourse around it boils down to "this is disgusting to me so it must be morally wrong". And like, I'm a biologist, I can't really find it in myself to be grossed out by this stuff anymore.

Anyway the Church is far from a monolith. Even at the institutional level there's plenty of tolerance; my home diocese is based in a large and ancient Mediterranean city so God knows it's had ages to get used to the weird shit, not counting the handful of trad strongholds. My understanding of the situation in the US is that it's Kind Of Really Not That though, so I'd strongly recommend heavily looking into your local Catholic diocese and parishes before making any moves, because Catholic faith and practice are a very community-bound thing and it's not really something you can do at a distance. Thankfully though, once you start avoiding the political activists trying to use faith as a means to an end (as is the case for most of the people you cite in your ask), you'll find that it's relatively more chill than you'd think. Let me elaborate.

My own case is complicated enough that I can't reasonably apply any of the details to this, but ultimately what's important to note here is that Christianity is functionally about how everyone is flawed, and everyone fucks up, and sure you'll be forgiven but you've got to own up to it first. The members of the Church, even the Pope, even (most of) the Saints in their earthly lives, are no exception. They can be misguided, fearful, or just plain hateful; in such circumstances, it's on them to do better, not on you to adapt to their flaws, and they know this if they're honest to themselves. This, in turn, must apply just as much to you and me; as a Christian, you (generic) have everything you need to do better, and to know anything that prevents you from loving other people is probably not the way to go.

But anyway yeah. I'm trans and Catholic because both of those are just kinda who I am, and I don't intend to stop being either because I'm not interested in replacing myself with the cop in my head. So the Church can have fun with that.