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#Send these memes to your brothers please. Please. I beg you.
shadowkira · 6 months
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Me to my guy friend: please don't flood me with links for things I'm not a huge fan of
My guy friend: Okay! Here's hulk memes and memes about king kong and godzilla, also, neither of us play Tekkan but-
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persephoneggsy · 2 years
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For the meme! 15 for Fiora, 22 for Marian, and 18 for Hildegarde, please!
Fiora: 15. Who does your character look up to and who do they despise?
It's sort of a cliche, but Fiora always idolized her mother the most growing up; she's the whole reason she got into the archery discipline in the first place. As a child, she'd beg her mother to tell her stories about her time as the Seawolf, and then drag Fergus and some of the servants into reenacting the stories.
As for despise... Honestly man, if it's not Howe, it's gotta be Loghain. She could not get behind any of his reasons for staging a coup in the middle of a Blight. Add to that working with Tevinter slavers and Rendon Howe, the man who murdered her family, and... yeah. I imagine she respected him before for his tactical genius and military might, but after Ostagar and learning all the shady shit he's done, her opinion of him took a nosedive right into the gutter.
Marian: 22. What is your character most afraid of?
The funny answer is centipedes.
The non-funny answer is not living up to her father's ideals; for all that Marian likes to appear tough and uncaring, if you put her in front of a Fear demon, it would turn into Malcolm and rip into her for not protecting the family, for not defending her fellow mages, for being selfish and cruel and a disappointment.
The real Malcolm, of course, would never say those things, but Marian still feels like her father wouldn't be proud of the woman she's become. It takes her a long time (plus some therapy and some loving from a certain former chantry brother) before she comes to terms with that and moves on.
Hildegarde: 18. What is your character’s relationship with their parents/the people that raised them?
So, Hildegarde is the youngest of four. Her mother remarried her father after her first husband passed away from old age (arranged marriage; there was no love there, but she did love Hildegarde's father). She already had her first three kids from that marriage, with their ages being 13, 10, and 8 when Hildegarde came.
When Hildegarde was born, her mother passed away from complications during the birth, so she never knew her. Her father doted on her, to the point of being smothering and overprotective, though Hilde was a lonely child so she adored her father. He hated the idea of having to send her to the Circle when her magic manifested, but as a devout man, he relented. He wrote to Hildegarde on a weekly basis and sent her gifts, which she appreciated, but it also had the unintended side effect of making the other mages at the Circle dislike her, viewing her as a spoiled brat.
And, as a not-so-fun bonus, two of her half-siblings hated her, blaming her for their mother's death. The eldest didn't, he's mature enough to realize it wasn't her fault, but he was also old enough that he was being drawn more into preparing for his adult responsibilities, and thus never had much time to spend with Hilde before she was sent to the Circle. Her other two siblings became templars, so that was an added tension that didn't help their relationships.
25 Character Questions for the Writer
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bestiesenpai · 4 years
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itadori + sukuna, twins + babysitting
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This is a mix of headcanons and a fic. Also, I’m going to do this as a ‘reader was their babysitter years ago but now everyone is all grown up and seeing each other again’ type thing. And femme reader!
Sorry if Itadori is a little OOC it just fits the plot, tw: dubconish? Maybe?
Babysitting Yuji and Sukuna was fun and an easy way to make money
They were the twins a few years younger than you across the street, so it was only natural for their parents to enlist your help in watching them
The pay was good, and while dealing with Sukunas practically destructive tendencies drained you at times, it was still fun to hang out with them and grow up together
Yuji was nice and sometimes a bit of a crybaby, whether it be because Sukuna did something or because he just wanted to cry that day
He often told Sukuna off for being bad and messing with you, but a lot of the times Yuji was just trying to save face when he and Sukuna got caught doing something troublesome
Sukuna, we already know is a little devil child and lived to annoy you
Ya know the meme of ‘what do you have? A KNIFE! No!’ that is Sukuna lol he knows he can be good and get your attention that way but where is the fun in that?! Answer there is no fun in that
As they get older and their parents don’t call you around anymore, they do get sad and complain
You’re just older than them that they can’t hang out with you outside of you babysitting them, it’d be weird
So they try to let you go, but you’re always in the back their minds, especially when they see you out with friends or something and they can’t stop looking at you
They’ve always had a crush, always.
And when you go away for college every year, they’re devastated. They come to say goodbye and you ruffle their hair like you used to and promise that you’ll visit them when you come back for break
And let’s be real they mark that shit on their calendar and wait for the day you come back
Sukuna is the one to invite you into the house when you come to visit them on your school break. He can’t keep his eyes off the way you fill out your clothes and the way your ass moves when you walk. You’ve grown up a lot, but so have they.
“Aw, I remember this!” You grin, holding up a picture frame of the three of you together the summer you got braces.
“Yeah.” Sukuna chuckles and closes the door. Yuji is here too, awkwardly sitting on his bed and staring at you with hearts in his eyes. Setting down the frame, you fall back onto the bed Yuji is sitting on. Even as they grow older, they still share a bedroom, and you can see Sukunas messy half of the room.
“(Y/N).” Yuji says softly, grabbing your hand in his. This isn’t uncommon for him, he used to beg you to hold his hand when he was younger. Lacing your fingers together, the smile you send him has him squeezing your hand tightly.
Sukuna had been standing at the door for a while now, fiddling with a stereo trying to pick the right background music. Finally settling on something, you don’t hear the click of the lock on the door and you certainly don’t notice the way the two of them share a look.
“Hey (Y/N).” Sukuna grunts, sitting on your other side.
“Yeah?”
“What’s college like? You’ve been there a couple years, you’re a veteran.” He puts an arm around your shoulder, leaning back and making his chest appear bigger to try and impress you.
“I only just started my third year.” Chuckling, you lean into him a little bit.
“Yeah, but still.”
“It’s way different than high school, that’s for sure. You two will like it when you go.”
“I wish we could go to college at the same time!” Yuji groans, curling himself into your side and pouting. “I want to go to classes with you.”
“Fuck classes, I want to go to parties.” Sukuna cuts in. “College parties must be wild, huh? You can tell us, (Y/N).”
“Some of them are.” Wrapping your arm around Yuji, you adjust to let him cuddle more into your side. Sukuna lets out a loud snort and shakes his head, not believing a word you say.
“C’mon (Y/N), you can be honest. I bet all you do at these parties is drink and fuck.” Neither Sukuna nor Yuji have ever spoken to you like that before. Your relationship was always kept PG-13 at most, a few gross crude jokes about making out and having sex when you were younger, but nothing vulgar.
“Well-” Your face flushes with heat, and Yuji is quick to sit up and look at you with owlish eyes.
“Is that true, (Y/N)? You fuck at these parties?”
“Guys!” Slapping a hand over your now burning face, you don’t miss the way they chuckle. “How is that any of your business?”
“C’mon, we aren’t kids anymore! We can talk about this stuff!” Sukuna scoffs, and the arm around your shoulder shakes you from side to side. “Just tell us, it’s not that big a deal.”
“Yeah, we’re older now.” Sitting up a little straighter, Yuji’s hand that was holding yours let's go and settles on your thigh. Biting your lip, you look between the two identical boys. Their stares are unwavering and nearly enough to make you too embarrassed to speak.
“Yes, I have fucked at these parties-” As soon as the words leave your mouth Sukuna lets out a holler and laughs, jostling you further.
“I knew it!”
“What’s it like, (Y/N)?” Yuji questions, and his hand squeezes your thigh tightly. The two of them have fully encased you, making it impossible to squirm out of their hold or escape their eyes.
“I don’t know if I should tell you.” They aren’t the same young kids you used to babysit. They’re fully grown men now, still growing into themselves but old enough that if you saw them at one of your college parties, you wouldn’t bat an eye.
“Please!” It only takes Yuji a little more pushing to get you to crack.
“It’s not that great a lot of the time, really. The boys at my college aren’t the best lay if you can believe it.” Rolling your eyes at the memory of your most recent escapade, you relax a little bit. “I mean honestly, how is it impossible for them to find the clit when I literally point right at it?”
“What a joke!” Sukuna chuckles, and his arm drops to settle around your waist. His fingers splay across your ribs, cupping just under your breast. “(Y/N) if you were with us we could make you feel ten times better!”
“Yeah, okay.” Laughing lightly at the proclamation, you think nothing of the way Yuji wraps his arms around your hips. He’s got a pout on his lips and his fingers start to dip beneath the waistband of your bottoms.
“We’re serious.” He says, eyes scrunched up a little from how intense he is. “We love you (Y/N), we can make you feel better than anyone else.”
“You love me?” Quirking a brow, you look at both of them. Yuji always said he loved you when he was younger, but Sukuna had always denied it with a fierce blush on his cheeks.
“We do, what about it?” There’s the telltale blush on his cheeks. Sukuna can see your smirk and it pisses him off, so much that he pushes you down to the bed.
Wrestling with Sukuna was a pastime the two of you enjoyed when you were annoying one another. He’d push you, you’d push him, and then the two of you would end up in a mess of limbs on the floor. This time felt no different, and you fought back like you always did. Wriggling away from him and trying to pin him down, you somehow ended up in the middle of the bed with Sukuna sitting on your legs.
“Ha, I win.” He says breathlessly. It wasn’t a fair fight to be honest, he and Yuji had begun working out ever since they hit puberty, so his strength easily outmatched yours. You easily conceded and tried to sit up, but Sukuna didn’t budge.
“Let me up.” You try to yank your legs out from under him but he just pushes more of his weight on you. Yuji is on the bed as well, sitting near your chest and looking at you with that same starry eyed look. He’s not looking at you, he’s looking at the way your shirt clings to your chest, the outline of your bra clear as day for him.
“(Y/N), will you let us show you how good we can make you feel?” He asks, licking his lips nervously. His hand settles on your stomach, palm hot and itching to feel your breast. You don’t answer, and they take that as a green light.
Sukuna is the first to take his shirt off, flexing the muscles he’s worked hard to get. Yuji follows suit, and they take their pants off as well, leaving you the most dressed person in the room. There was an argument brewing in the back of your throat, saying that it was wrong to do this since you’d known them for so long. But now, seeing them as they wanted to be seen, burgeoning men that clearly had a desire to be with you, that argument seemed silly.
“What-” You start, and the word catches in your throat for a moment at what you’re about to say. “What did you have in mind?”
“Oh baby.” Sukuna lets out a low groan, an almost sickening grin stretching his cheeks. “We’ve done a lot of research.” His hands are already working your bottoms down your legs, leaving you in your panties.
“(Y/N), lift your arms.” Yuji whispers, tugging your shirt off. They’re both silent when they see your nearly naked body; something they’d fantasized about many times. Leaning down, Yuji kisses you abruptly, and that sets Sukuna off to take your panties off as well. Yuji takes your bra off, placing it with the large pile of clothes on the floor.
Climbing off your legs, Sukuna forces them open, nearly kneeing Yuji in the face when he pushes your legs up.
“Shit. Look at this.” Yanking Yuji by the shoulder, they both settle between your legs and stare directly at your cunt. In that moment, you’re reminded of their inexperience and lack of knowledge, and it’s almost innocent.
Spreading your lower lips with two fingers, Yuji leans forward, puckers his lips, and spits onto your cunt, making it clench around nothing.
Innocence, gone.
“What should we start with first?” Sukuna asks, giving you a once over.
“What do you want to do? I know you always talk about tasting her.” Yuji, always so polite, scoots back and lets his brother take up all the space between your legs.
“Thanks little bro.”
“You’re only older by two minutes.”
“Best two minutes of my life.” Laughing, Sukuna slaps your thighs with both hands and moves to lay on his stomach. “Just relax, (Y/N). We’re going to take good care of you.” Yuji is also laying down with his mouth hovering over one of your nipples.
“Yeah (Y/N).” Yujis breath fans over your nipple, and his eyes are torn between looking at you and looking at your chest. “We love you.”
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MC is Half Demon and Blah Blah Blah-
Time for the Group Retreat!
Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Lessons 5-6 Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4
I’m quite hyped for this one, ladies, gents, and esteemed readers! For simplicity’s sake, since this is before M!MC and A!MC arrive, L!MC will go back to being referred to as just MC. Enjoy the Headcanons!
Since the previous Underground Tomb incident ended much less violently, Lucifer is now more worried than angry about MC’s rampant shennaniganery.
Like... his kid was poking holes in his totally foolproof “Your cow-uncle went to live on a farm in the human world” story. What if MC somehow got into the attic and got hurt?!
It didn’t help that they were still in this weird phase of their father/child relationship. On one hand, Lucifer obviously cares for his kid, and his kid likes him... but it’s also only been less than three months and we all know how emotionally constipated Lucifer is.
MC’s also getting REAL sus of all the secrets their dear old dad is keeping... doesn’t help that they STILL haven’t went up into the attic.
Anyhoo~ the announcement for the retreat was a barrel of laughs.
“I’m proposing, a group retreat!”
Everyone met Diavolo’s announcement with the exact same confused reaction. It’s like the entire assembly hall was doing the ‘Guy Blinking’ meme.
“A... group retreat?” Lucifer repeated slowly. “For what reason exactly, Lord Diavolo?”
The Crown Prince was giddy with excitement as he explained. “MC told me about their middle school overnight trip and it sounded like it would be quite fun!”
Simeon, Luke, MC, and Solomon were all seated next to each other in the ‘exchange student seats of less importance’. Luke leaned over and whispered a question to MC.
“Why are you so friendly with the crown prince?”
MC smirked and shrugged. “Lucifer had the Demon-Flu and couldn’t go meet with Lord Diavolo last week so I went for him. Lord Diavolo’s surprisingly bad at Connect Four but has really good luck in Snakes and Ladders.”
Luke’s jaw dropped in complete and utter shock and horror.
“We’re playing CandyLand and the Game of Life next time, want to come?” MC added.
“Play CandyLand... with him..?” Luke looked at Diavolo, who was still explaining his plan for the retreat, then looked back at MC. “I’ll only go to shield you from his corrupting influence.”
“Yeah... Corrupting...” MC had to hold back a laugh at the thought of Diavolo, who during MC’s visit lit up like a Christmas tree upon being called ‘Dia’ and believed that Mood Rings were the greatest human invention ever, being a corrupting influence.
“MC! Torture dungeon or no!?” MC was snapped out of their conversation by Mammon shouting at them from his seat.
“What?”
“Do ya think there’s a torture dungeon under the castle, or not?”
“I’m not sure,” MC turned to Diavolo. “Lord Diavolo, is there a torture dungeon under the Demon Lord’s Castle?”
There is in fact, no torture dungeon. Presumably...
Everyone packed up and headed out to the Demon Lord’s Castle!
The fabulous seven all broke several speed limits and traffic laws in order to be there early. Listen, they had to get there before Purgatory Hall, it was a matter of pride.
Besides, what’s the Royal guard going to do? Arrest six of the seven rulers of hell and a kid? Ha. No. Not when Diavolo controls their paychecks.
The rooming situation remained the same, Asmo, Simeon, and MC were roomed together, and MC got to watch Asmo get psychologically profiled by Simeon. It was truly a sight to behold.
MC was nice enough to assure Asmo that they really liked him and thought he was very sweet.
Asmo, not used to being complimented on his personality, almost started openly weeping.
So, the tour of the Demon Lord’s Castle began! Asmo got yelled at by his ex in the painting and the usual batch of idiots got sucked into the catacombs under the castle.
Lucifer wasn’t terribly sure how or if he should express his concern for MC being stuck in the labyrinth.
All these new fatherly feelings of worry are very very odd. He didn’t worry this much for Satan, mainly because Satan was usually the threat.
Even as a baby...
Lucifer found himself checking his DDD every few minutes to see if MC had texted or called from wherever the painting dragged them to, never mind that if they did text he’d hear the phone ding.
“Lucifer, don’t worry too much,” Diavolo patted Lucifer on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. “Your brothers and MC will be perfectly fine! There’s nothing too dangerous in the catacombs that they wouldn’t be able to take care of.”
Resigning himself to the fact that MC was under the care of his last choices for babysitting, Lucifer put away his DDD. “I know they’ll be fine, but I’m not overly pleased with the situation.” He shot a glare at Helene in the portrait, who rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
“Lucifer worrying about someone, I’m truly, genuinely shocked.” Hearing Satan’s attempt at goading him, Lucifer, flawless demon that he is, resisted the urge to throw his DDD at his brother.
“Quiet, Satan.”
————
“WHY THE FUCK IS A SNAKE DOWN HERE?!”
“ITS HENRY 1.0!”
“YEAH THAT REALLY CLEARS STUFF UP, LEVI!”
MC and Levi continued their screaming match as the group ran for dear life from a giant snake.
Yeah... nothing the brothers couldn’t handle... sure, Lord Diavolo...
They made it out of the scary catacombs... don’t worry.
Lucifer did that parent-thing where he cleaned the catacomb dust off MC’s face with a napkin.
Yay! Parenting!
Failed pillow fight attempt #1 happened that evening. Because Mammon was obsessed with being the fun-uncle and saw his brothers encroaching on his place as favourite uncle.
MC doesn’t know how to break it to him that he’ll probably always be the favourite uncle and he doesn’t have to be such a dumbass to keep his spot.
Scavenger hunt went on as canon dictates.
Asmo had his diva tantrum and stormed off, but MC also wanted to win so they didn’t go after him.
Clearly expecting someone to go beg him to come back, Asmo was very annoyed when no one went after him.
“Um, helloooo? Anyone going to comfort me~?”
“Nope.”
“Well I don’t want your comfort anyway, SOLOMON.”
It was very close, L!MC insisted their loss came from sabotage. No evidence was found but just LOOK at Satan’s face.
Time for the Formal Dance~
If you’re wondering why Luke didn’t say anything when MC was suddenly poofed into their demon form, you’re assuming that Mammon wasn’t in on the “let’s prank the chihuahua” plan.
“Mammon..? Is MC behind you?”
“Nope! Why?”
MC was able to get to the other side of the ballroom with Luke none the wiser! Hell yeah, nothing like screwing with your friend!
So it’s canon that Lucifer is like, a solid 20/10, therefore MC is ADORABLE. What I’m saying is, some of the younger demons asked them to dance.
Asmo was also being MC’s hype man, which was very nice of him. Mammon also tried to give advice on how to be cool and suave. Beel was there for moral support.
“Alright kiddo, you need to be aloof and mysterious! People love aloof and mysterious, that’s why I’m so popular.”
“Don’t listen to him, MC. He flew into a wall as a kid and it killed all his brain cells. Just be proper but not snooty, sweet but not saccharine, friendly but not annoying,”
“Ask them if they want to share some of the hors d’oeuvres.” 
“Okay, first, aloof and mysterious are the last words I would ever use to describe you, Mammon. Second, Asmo I have no clue what you’re asking me to do. Third... Beel that’s the best advice I’ve received in recent memory.”
None of that mattered anyway because MC got swarmed with dance offers.
“Well,” MC smirked and held out their hand at the demon that was bold enough to ask them to dance first. “I admire the confidence.”
The demon’s smile brightened, then dropped completely when their gaze drifted behind MC. “I uh... on second thought... I’m gonna...”
MC’s potential dance partners all quickly scattered to the snack table. The half demon growled and turned around to see their father acting like he didn’t just scare away MC’s groupies.
“Father! What was that for?!” MC huffed, Lucifer rolled his eyes and grabbed MC’s wrist and began to pull them away from the dance floor.
“You’re too young to dance.”
“That’s crazy! They looked like they were my age.” MC protested, their wings fluttering in annoyance.
“Even if they looked to be your age, MC, they’re hundreds of years older.” Lucifer said calmly.
“What about that equivalent age stuff you told me about? Like how Luke is hundreds of years old but by angel/human standards he’s technically younger than me?”
“That doesn’t matter right now.” Lucifer lightly pushed MC towards the hallway that led back to their room.
“But I want to dance with someone!” MC felt their wings involuntarily fluff up.
Lucifer turned and smiled at his dear little brat, crouching slightly to get to their level. “Not on my watch.”
MC’s face was literally this: >:0
Lucifer is out here being the dad in every comedy that involves someone bringing home their partner to meet their parents.
MC was banished to their room, they spent their time angrily reading the manga they had packed.
When Levi escaped the party slightly later MC grilled him for details of what went on after they left.
“Nothing too interesting... except... um...”
“Spit it out, Levi!”
“...lrddiavlondlucferdnced”
“I can’t understand you, stop mumbling.”
“Lord Diavolo and Lucifer danced together...”
“...”
“...”
“I MISSED THAT?!”
So yes, MC’s desire to get a picture of Lucifer sleeping stems from VENGEANCE!
How DARE their father send MC up to their room and make them miss their OTP dancing together!?
So they call up their troupe of idiots and get ready to go be menaces to society.
MC also invites along Asmo because he seemed like he could use the adventure.
And because MC couldn’t plan the prank without Asmo noticing so it was better to just implicate him as well...
“Grrr...”
MC brightened and clapped their hands. “I know that growl!”
“It’s not my stomach, I packed snacks.” MC couldn’t see this, considering the room was pitch black (it must’ve been some kind of magic because demons have excellent night vision), but Beel waved a bag of chips in the air and got to eating.
“No, I’m not talking about your stomach, Beel.” MC skipped towards the source of the growling despite Mammon and Levi’s pleas for them to stop.
Ah! There he was!
“Cerberus!” MC cooed, the three headed dog stopped growling and barked happily. “Whose a good boy? Is it you?”
Cerberus let lose a bark that would probably make anyone crap their pants, but MC giggled and kept petting him. “Yeah! You’re the good boy! You like cuddles! Yes you do! Yes you do!”
A flash of light from a camera caused MC to drop their baby talk voice and stare angrily in the direction where the light came from.
“Whoever took that picture better delete it or I’m going to feed you to the dog.”
Cerberus growled in agreement. What a good boy.
“Well, as nice as this is...” Asmo huffed. “We’ve clearly been duped because this is not Lucifer and Diavolo’s room.”
“Oh well!” MC chirped and continued to pet the three headed dog. “Look at the doggy!”
“MC, you’re crazy. Dontcha ever forget that.” Mammon whimpered as Cerberus growled at him.
So yeah, they couldn’t get out of the room, so they ended up opening up the other door and falling into the catacombs like a bunch of lemmings.
Asmo charmed Henry, and they got out of the labyrinth no problem.
Yay! No consequences! Oh no- hi Lucifer.
Lucifer gave them all the mother of all lectures. Satan showed up with the rest of the gang and brought popcorn.
Belphie wasn’t there, okay? Satan needed to be a little shit for him.
Ah yes, the pillow fight... Mammon’s crusade to be the best uncle culminated in a massive pillow fight that ended with MC, Lucifer, and Diavolo standing over everyone’s unconscious bodies.
So they uh... won the pillow fight.
MC couldn’t sleep. They legitimately couldn’t. As exhausting as the pillow fight victory had been, everyone was snoring, and MC was bleary eyed and awake at one in the morning.
They eventually sat up and looked around, Asmo was passed out in a very unflattering position, Solomon was chanting god knows what in his sleep, Levi was half hanging off Simeon’s bed, Simeon and Luke were sleeping like angels (hehehehe-), Beel was in the middle of eating his pillow in his sleep, Mammon appeared to be dreaming about winning the lottery, and Satan was... suspiciously absent.
He was there a minute ago... weird.
Deciding that this wasn’t worth it and they should just go sleep somewhere else, MC got out of bed and avoided stepping on anyone as they vacated the room.
The Demon Lord’s Castle at night could rival the House of Lamentation in terms of overall creepiness. MC had gotten used to the spirits and curses that littered their home, but they had only been to the Demon Lord’s Castle once before, so they were extra careful not to accidentally touch anything. Their stomach rumbled and they frowned.
Damn, they had the midnight munchies... they needed a snack.
MC made their way to the kitchen and on there way, noticed a peculiar room through a half open door. Taking a few steps back to peek into it, they noticed... doors. A lot of doors. And ivy covered steps. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of the placements, and the room was... weirdly chilly.
“You can come in if you’d like, MC.”
Barbatos’ voice nearly caused MC to hit a high note that they hadn’t been able to hit since their voice began to change. They straightened out their wrinkled pyjamas and stepped inside.
The butler himself was walking down one of the flights of stairs.
“Um...” Quickly remembering their manners, MC straightened their posture and cleared their throat. “Good evening Barbatos.”
Barbatos smiled and inclined his head in turn. “Good evening to you as well, MC.”
“How did you know it was me outside? You were up there a second ago.” MC asked.
“It’s a part of my powers. I can see possible futures, and I foresaw you passing by my room and getting curious.” Barbatos explained.
“Oh,” MC said, half nodding and continuing to look around. A the sound of a door closing out of MC’s vision made them squeak and look around for the source of the noise. “What was that?!”
“It’s nothing to be worried about.” Barbatos raised his hands in a placating gesture. “These doors in my room are gateways to different timelines and some are gateways into the past of this particular timeline. That was another version of me passing by.”
“Does this... happen often?” MC knitted their eyebrows.
Barbatos hesitated before answering. “Not really. It’s quite rare. Lord Diavolo has expressly forbidden me from using my full powers freely.”
“Ah... makes sense...”
“Now, I believe you came down for snacks?”
MC blinked in surprise. “How did you- oh... the time magic...”
“Yes, the time magic. Now, would you prefer yogurt and fruit, or apples and peanut butter?”
“Yogurt and fruit please!”
I’m sure MC’s knowledge of how Barbie’s room works will totally not come into play later. I’m sure.
Solomon and MC graced the brunch table with their cooking. I think you can guess how it would have turned out if Barbatos hadn’t intervened.
Rest In Peace to Beel’s tastebuds.
Anyway, the rest of the retreat was all fun and good.
MC may or may not have slipped up and called Diavolo ‘Dia’ in front of Lucifer. It would’ve sparked a lecture if Dia’s puppy-like excitement wasn’t so damn adorable.
Lucifer’s got a heart... somewhere... it’s probably all shrivelled up and tiny, but I’m sure it’s there.
Everyone went back home, brought closer together through... pillow fights and surviving Solomon’s cooking I guess..?
Anyway, MC got home, unpacked their stuff, watched Kakegurui with Levi and Mammon, let Asmo paint their nails, made and ate dinner with Beel, continued their piano lessons with Lucifer, and received a 100% fake smile from Satan.
It was a nice day with their new family, MC curled up in their bed and prepared to go to sleep.
“Help me!”
MC lurched upwards in their bed, whipping their head from side to side, trying to find the source of the voice. Their room was completely empty, the perks of being half demon extended to being able to see in the dark. No new smells either, they were alone in the room.
Auditory hallucinations were common before falling asleep after being sleep deprived, creepy, but not too unusual.
“MC!”
Okay- that one couldn’t be ignored. It was common knowledge that the House of Lamentation was definitely haunted in some capacity, but the ghosts never really bothered the demons living inside, MC was partly convinced that some of the ghosts didn’t even notice that the demons were there. So it couldn’t have been a ghost calling their name.
“MC! I need help!”
The voice reverberated through their head, like it was trying to hit every part of their skull to make sure it was at least felt if MC couldn’t hear it. MC massaged their scalp and got out of bed.
The House of Lamentation at night truly lived up to its haunted reputation. Cold, clammy, dark, even by demon standards. No spooky old house was going to scare MC though, they walked down the hall with their head held high.
They walked closer to walls and furniture, knowing that the floor was less likely to creak in those areas. How did they know that? Mammon had told them it worked like a charm. Well, it’d work better for him if he stopped tripping over the furniture and alerting Lucifer.
MC was much more nimble and careful, stepping slowly and lightly around the hallways until they reached the door to the attic. They reached out to clasp their hand around the doorknob, then froze. It smelled like…
Oh no.
MC leapt away from the door like it was rigged to explode if they touched it and practically dove for cover into an alcove. The all too-recent smell of Lucifer’s fancy cologne and the increasing sound of someone coming down the stairs made them clamp their hand over their mouth and crouch down.
What was their father doing up there?
He had said the attic was full of old junk and there was no reason to go up there, so why exactly did he-
The door slammed open and Lucifer stomped down the hallway back towards his room, MC presumed. They were about to let out a sigh of relief when the footsteps paused. MC felt their heart drop right into their gut when they heard the footsteps coming back in their direction.
What were they going to say to him when he found them? ‘Sorry! This isn’t where the bathrooms are!’ The last thing MC wanted was to add to their father’s ever growing list of stresses. MC was totally responsible and grown-up, their father didn’t need to worry.
MC clamped their eyes shut and tried to slow their heart rate. Demons were beings of darkness and shadow, they could blend in quite easily. They took a deep breath, cleared their head, and felt the shadows of the hallway shift and cover them like a blanket.
Lucifer’s footsteps stopped, MC heard a tired sigh, then the footsteps started up again, this time in the direction of his room.
They allowed themselves a sigh of relief before relieving themselves of their hiding space and opening the door leading to the attic staircase.
If the rest of the House of Lamentation was considered clammy, cold, and foreboding, the attic staircase was that multiplied by a factor of twelve. MC felt themselves shudder involuntarily when they stepped closer to the staircase. Every primal part of their brain was telling them to turn around and walk away, but one tiny part was holding them back. They placed their foot on the first step, waiting for any kind of resistance, nothing other than the feeling of passing through invisible cobwebs.
“MC?”
Upon hearing their name, MC craned their neck to try and get a look at what could be waiting for them at the top of the stairs.
“Are you coming, or not?”
The cascade of warning sirens that began to blare in MC’s head went ignored as they continued to scale the staircase.
When they reached the final step, they were met with a long hallway, with a single door on the right side of the wall.
“H-hello?” MC tried to instill some force into their voice, but it still ended up quavering a little.
“Down here.” Someone knocked on the wall next to the door, almost causing MC to jump.
Oh. Oh no. MC stood straight in front of the door, and when they saw who was looking back at them they nearly passed out.
“Belphegor..?”
Belphegor’s eyes flashed as he gave MC a once over. His eyes narrowed when his gaze snapped to MC’s. The analytical expression melted into a lazy grin.
“That’s me,” he said softly. “Nice to finally meet you, MC.”
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Note
The skeleton's plus UT Gaster's reactions to receiving a.. "frisky selfie" from their S/O at work? (not a Frisk pun lol)
Be careful, it's a bit suggestive ;D
Undertale Sans - Sans has a bad habit of letting other people read his texts for him when he's busy. That's probably the day when he stopped exactly doing that, after Papyrus said casually "OH IT'S A PICTURE OF YOUR NAKED GIRLFRIEND ASKING YOU IF YOU ARE HUNGRY. SHOULD I ANSWER YOU ATE AN HOUR AGO?". Sans wants to die. All of his coworkers are now laughing at him and even his hoodie is not deep enough to hide. He let go a very little "why bro".
Undertale Papyrus - He sends back a happy cat meme. And... That's all. He also send you he can't send you back a naked photo of himself because he is working, but that you can imagine his bones in your dreams.
Undertale Gaster - He send you a "please never do that when I'm visiting Asgore, he wants to make sure I'm protecting myself while doing bed activities with you and now it's weird". You can't stop laughing.
Underswap Sans - He was in the middle of a criminal interview and his voice suddenly became very high as he is trying to keep desperately his composure and not blush a light cyan. He will definitely send you something back later in the toilets though. He's playful.
Underswap Papyrus - The baby of the neighbour he's keeping open the message. Honey yelps in shock and throws the phone through the room. He thought he would get away with it, but the kid betrayed him right in front of his mom : "Mommy, Nanny saw me boobs". The mom looked at Honey, shocked, and he just said "i swear it's not what it looks like". Oh boy, oh god, oh boy, he is so panicking right now. He doesn't know how to return the situation without making it look even worse.
Underfell Sans - He calls you in panic. "don't.. don't do that fuckin' dammit!". You can hear the hornyness from where you are and you are enjoying it. Red hates you so much. Why would you do that to him. You know he can't take it. He rushes his work so he can come home early today.
Underfell Papyrus - He stays neutral externally, but he stared at his phone for litteral five minutes without blinking, which alert his coworkers. When one of them got close, Edge slowly growl protectively to shoo them away, then goes back to staring the picture. He likes it but he has no idea what the hell he is supposed to do with it now.
Horrortale Sans - He sends you back a photo of him looking very uncomfortable and panicked, the hand deep inside the butt of a cow. Oak is in the middle of a giving birth to baby cow right now, so Willow decided to help. On the photo, Oak is literally screaming to his brother to not look at it, but since he can't really move, Willow decided it was a good time to torture his big brother.
Horrortale Papyrus - He screams in shock, the phone falls on the ground... The pig eats the phone. Willow is now trying to open the pig's mouth in panic, begging him to spit the phone out already, but the pig doesn't look in a hurry. He hopes you are not going to take it the wrong way, but he can't really answer right now.
Swapfell Sans - He's covered in blood, torturing a random guy that refused to pay him, but he still stops to say that his S/O is beautiful and that he loves you so much and that he will be home soon since you are so bored. Now... He needs to end this quickly. The guy gulps in fear.
Swapfell Papyrus - He sends back a picture of him at the hospital with a sorry face. In panic you ask what happened. He sends a picture of his ribs, all stucked in children's toys donuts. You ask how the hell that happened. Rus said he lost a bet against a two years old and that happened... But that you can still come pet his ribs to help to ease the pain, obviously. He needs magic kisses.
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kcatta-wodahs · 4 years
Text
MC Who Does Not Fear Death x OM! Demon Brothers
Or maiming, or apparently any other consequences. You’ve walked into this situation with absolutely no filter and no fear. Time to tear down every structure of Devildom society.
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Lucifer
You look at him with a withering stare when he tries to intimidate you into behaving.
“I was summoned out of my trashy apartment to this place, where literally anyone could snap me like a twig on accident. I’m just working on the assumption that I’m already dead.”
He sternly looks at you. “You’re under my protection during your time here. No harm will come to you.”
You snort derisively, which visibly irritates him. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t come back to haunt you if it happens.”
As you continue through your life in Devildom he keeps calling you out for meddling and all that, like usual, and he HATES that you literally *do not care* when he threatens you.
Like HE knows that he wouldn’t hurt Diavolo’s transfer student but YOU are supposed to be AFRAID of him dammit.
His frustration at this ends up turning into a form of respect. You’re about the only person who will stand up to him, and tbh like you’re so fucking fragile but you’ll yell at him all day? That takes guts. Annoying guts. But you’ve got guts.
But also STOP IT. He has enough stress in his life and now he’s constantly terrified that you’ve decided it’s a great idea to adopt a baby balrog
Which you did once. He’s just afraid that “Flamin Hot Cheeto” is going to come back since you somehow managed to imprint on it.
despite the fact that the BABY could easily tear your arms off on accident
Not to mention he gets the flack for EVERY SINGLE ONE of these following stories. You stress him out so much. Please. Please, stop. 
He’s almost to the point of begging. The Avatar of Pride is three steps away from either locking you away for the rest of the year or begging on his knees for you to calm down. 
 But you know you’d find a way out if he locked you up so no worries. It’ll be a good challenge.
Mammon
“Well you WON’T be dead because it’s my job to protect you! Are you doubting the Great Mammon?!”
Stupid human. Yeah, you’re fragile and weak, but that’s why HE’S your bodyguard now, and there’s no way in hell (lol) that he would let you die on his watch.
Lucifer would kill him.
You welcome the challenge, and he thinks it’s funny at first but quickly becomes a flustered mother hen.
“NO, we are NOT going out to Madam Scream’s at 3am! Do ya know what kinda CREEPS are out there at 3am?!”
And you sneak out the fucking window.
He has had more heart attacks in the past week than he has had in the last 100 years of life.
He starts agreeing to your ridiculous adventures JUST because then he can actually keep an eye on you. 
He adores the chaos of the laugh that bursts from you every time you narrowly escape death. 
He HATES how often you have to NARROWLY ESCAPE DEATH. So he will never tell you.
He almost doesn’t have time for his own shenanigans anymore, because all his time is taken up by trying to make sure you stay alive.
And you’ve figured out that if you turn *any* of your ideas into a money-making one, he will join you whole-heartedly.
So you bribe him because what’s money to you anymore anyway?
Leviathan
I mean he doesn’t leave his room much, so tbh he probably just gets texts from you that make him want to scream.
‘hey uh levi say if someone were to hypothetically be stuck in a succubus’ devil basement to become an unwilling sacrifice to asmo what would that person, hypothetically, do?’
‘probably die’ is usually all he sends back
You always come back, because he always sends a text to the other brothers. In that case Asmo came to rescue you himself and scold the succubus.
You become the friend that he makes funny throwing-shade reddit posts about. (Devvit? Devil reddit? Eh??)
‘Levi so this has nothing to do with anything but is there a cure for a dangerously potent ‘always win at rock-paper-scissors' curse? Asking for a friend’
‘Friend is being held hostage tho so maybe be quick about a response’
He didn’t even know that kind of curse existed. None of them did. What the fuck did you do.
How did you get taken captive by playing rock paper scissors?
He doesn’t know. Nobody does. He expects the play-by-play so he can recommend it as a new anime to his favorite producers. 
Somehow your chaotic plans end up with stories almost as great as TSL. 
Beelzebub
He physically carries you around.
He’s like “fuck this you can’t get into trouble if I’m holding you.”
If Beel’s on MC watching duty, he’s almost the only one who is successful, just because you physically cannot get away. 
But at the same time, he is very easily bribed. 
So yes, he’ll go to Madam Scream’s with you at 3am. Sounds like fun.
But he is very protective after losing someone he cares about (who you remind him of so much….) so he keeps you close when you’re out and about too.
If you start getting into a fight with some other demon he literally just takes the fight for you and wins with no trouble at all.
You like having Beel with you.
Especially finding street festivals! You’re in a whole new world and there’s a MILLION things to try. Beel is more than happy to try them with you.
But that leads to arguments about whether deadly creatures to humans are still deadly when dead. 
“No, you can’t eat that it’s on fire. I know even small fires hurt humans. I’ll eat it for you.”
“That hot sauce makes every demon I know cry. You really shouldn’t buy a bottle. Please. No, don’t try it. No, that’s too much for one-- oh. Oh no.”
He forgives you as long as you don’t actually get hurt and you give him your leftovers.
Asmodeus
“If I get wrinkles because of you I promise you will never hear the end of it. I will curse you forever.”
He swears on every single one of his lovers that you have started giving him grey hairs.
GREY HAIRS, MC.
Why can’t you just settle down and let them all take care of you? You don’t have to prove anything to the other demons!
But you will. You’re living in Devildom now, and by everything unholy, you are going to live that life to its fullest extent.
He was thrilled at first when you were all for joining him at his nightclubs and parties. Now he hides every party’s date from you.
That time you almost threw yourself off a balcony to try and emulate a very drunk demon’s newest dance move.
“I need to stay TRENDY, Asmo!! I’ll be fine!!”
Ever since learning Demonus doesn’t affect humans you have challenged every single stuck-up tough boy to a drinking contest.
And every single time you win, Asmo has had to *narrowly* save you from being killed by said demon.
And you just say “he deserved it” every time.
And like, yeah okay, he probably did but YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE.
Somehow, you manage to out-party Asmo.
dON’T TELL THE OTHERS but he lives for the times when you practically fall asleep on his shoulder while coming home from a rager. You may not get drunk, but when you’re sleepy, you’re so affectionate and something in his heart melts.
Satan
At first, Satan was all for the rebellious “life life with no restraints” thought process you explained to him.
I mean, he didn’t like the assumption that he and his brothers couldn’t control themselves to not accidentally kill you, but also… fair.
But he didn’t realize that this mindset followed through for EVERY demon in ANY place.
Including RAD, where old and wizened demons were *really* not used to being contradicted
Which led to you “accidentally insulting” your 5000 year old Human Studies professor by giving them a pop quiz on current memes (which they failed).
And left Satan as the one who had to make sure that said professor didn’t kill you. 
And the thing is, this keeps happening.
You’ve written all over the school’s library books, pointing out every error.
You *continue* to argue with the demons who threaten to kill you when you say silly things like “No, Solomon did not learn his sorcery at Hogwarts because Hogwarts isn’t REAL.”
(Solomon, meanwhile, refutes you vehemently and seems to grow three inches taller every time you glare at him.)
Satan assures you that he values knowledge and truth and all that, but could you maybe find a less dangerous way to push it?
No can do, Satan, because you already had plans with Mammon to use a curse that writes the history of the actual Sorceric Academy that Solomon attended like 400 years all over the desks in Human Studies. It’s activated by anyone saying “Hogwarts”. 
No, no, Satan, it’s brilliant, because you can’t do magic. It can’t be you who did it.
Satan, no don’t tell Lucifer.
I thought you hated him. Satan, wait. 
You are the only person in the history of ever who convinces him to come to Lucifer for intervention. You wear that badge with pride and also deep, deep, bitter sadness. 
Belphegor
Like, through the plot your willingness to be a thorn in anyone’s side just to get more information really works for Belphie.
He’s like all I gotta do is ask? Sweet. Yeah. Go, human.
But then when he’s all big and threatening and “im gonna kill you” and you just kind of look at him and nod like “yeah, this checks out.” 
Frankly, that’s rude, MC. 
And then he keeps threatening to kill you and it doesn’t even PHASE you like. You just keep listening to him rant and going “OH i think i get it now”
He liked that you were always looking for more information when he was the one pushing you around, but now?
No. Human, he is going to KILL you here, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.
And then you do the time-travel bit, and see that he *literally has killed you in one timeline* and you just like
Shrug it off and keep talking about Lilith???????
Tbh what probably stopped him from doing it again is just that you’re fucking insane, MC 
“MC, you literally just saw yourself dead in Mammon’s arms”
You wave your hand vaguely in his direction and say, “Yeah okay, but can we talk about the lack of communication in this household because it is tearing this family apart.”
What the fuck MC
When he’s back to normal, tbh he loves that side of you. He loves getting into shit when he’s not sleeping. He will 100% encourage you and be there to make sure that you *don’t* actually die again.
He’s the only one who doesn’t actually try to stop you. Who knew he was so into chaos.
But if you try to drag him to a plan when he should be sleeping he will be like Beel and literally just hold you down while he naps dammit. You brought this on yourself. He needs sleep.
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blossom-hwa · 4 years
Text
Skipping Stones - KEVIN
This was the second full scenario I ever finished for The Boyz and I think it was pretty nice to start with some soft Kevin :D THANK YOU KAI FOR LETTING ME YELL TO YOU ABOUT THIS ONE I HOPE IT LIVES UP TO YOUR EXPECTATIONS. 
Anyway! Happy (slightly early but only by a couple hours??) birthday to one of the best boys in the world, the one and only wonderful beautiful lovely Kevin Moon! I hope you all enjoy this <3 please reblog if you did!
Pairing: Kevin x gender neutral!reader
Genre: fluff, teacher!au
Triggers: cursing, alcohol
Word Count: 7.8k
Falling in love with you, Kevin thinks, is a bit like skipping stones. 
Alternatively:
Five times Kevin felt himself falling deeper in love with you, and the one time he knew he was gone.
TBZ Masterlist | Touching Stars | Breathe, and Live
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prelude.
Kevin knows he exists to be clowned. His sister says it’s something about his face – there’s something undeniably meme-y about his reactions, apparently, that makes him very clownable. His students tell him it’s in his demeanor – he comes off as pretty chill, according to them, which makes him easy to tease because they know he’ll react in some hilarious way, but it won’t affect him too deeply.
(Changmin just says he’s stupid, which makes him clownable to the highest degree, but Kevin refuses to take information from the teacher who still scares him every other week with whichever horror movie mask has recently caught his fancy.)
So Kevin knows he’s just a clownable human being, and he’s resigned himself to that fate for the rest of his life. But around you? His calm, collected, hilarious, wonderful partner? He expected a little less clownery and a little more loving.
“Oh, come on,” you laugh, trying to get Kevin to turn around. Honestly, he’s already feeling the effects of withdrawal from not seeing your smile for more than a few minutes, but he refuses to budge, lips curved downwards in a semi-permanent pout. He knows he won’t be able to keep this up for long (he’ll miss looking at your face too much, and really, he can’t be mad at you about anything), but he can make a scene. “Kevin!”
“You’re so mean,” he whines, still resisting your efforts to make him look at you. “I just poured out a very embarrassing part of my childhood to you and instead of comforting me, you laugh?” His pout deepens. “I don’t know why we’re dating.”
Your hands leave the back of his shoulders. For a second, Kevin thinks you’ve given up and he’s about to start whining about that too, but then you appear in front of him, fingers clasped placatingly. “All right, all right, Kevin.” Still grinning, you grab his hands. “I won’t tease anymore. But seriously, how could you expect me not to laugh my ass off when you told me you learned to skip stones for the –” you make jazz hands, presumably to emphasize your point – “aesthetic?”
Kevin sticks his lip out childishly. “I didn’t think it was that funny,” he mumbles.
“It’s not, not really.” You squeeze his hands. “But it’s a move that’s got Kevin Moon stamped all over it.” As if to accentuate your point, you snort. “Of course you’d learn to skip stones for the aesthetic.”
“Y/N,” he whines.
“Fine, fine, I’ll stop.” Your teasing grin melts into an eager smile. “Hey, teach me?”
“Right now?”
“Why not?”
It feels like Kevin’s physically crumbling to pieces with the way your hopeful voice and sparkling eyes just attack him from all angles. Grudgingly, the deep pout on his lips stretches into a smile, the starstruck smile that all of his friends like to tease him for. “Fine, let’s go.”
He spends the rest of the afternoon stepping around small children and younger couples, trying to find suitable rocks for skipping and teaching you the right angles, the right stance, the right way to hold the stone in your hand before sending it into the water. You learn fast, something he envies – where it took him at least a couple of weeks to perfect the art, you (mostly) pick it up in a matter of hours – but he can’t feel too jealous or too bad when you look up at him after your stone skips once on the water. “Kevin, I did it!” You shake him slightly. “Did you see that?”
The softest smile spreads across Kevin’s face as he kisses your forehead softly “Yeah, I did.”
When he pulls away, you give him the brightest grin before scrambling away to find more stones to skip. Kevin just watches, taking in the way your figure looks against the setting sun, bright gold and pale pink light streaming over your body, almost making you glow.
This is why he fell in love with you, he thinks. Your character, your tenacity, the way you throw yourself into every task you’ve been assigned so that you can complete it as best as you can. It doesn’t matter if you’re trying to treat a new cancer case at the hospital or trying to skip a stupid rock across the water. You always give it your all.
Idly, Kevin picks up a stone of his own. With a practiced flick of his wrist, it goes sailing onto the lake, skipping three, four, five times before sinking beneath the surface.
Falling in love with you is a bit like skipping stones, he thinks, watching the stone disappear from sight. Someone had to force him into that first blind date with you, much like making the first toss of the stone into the water, but every skip after that was quick, effortless, the way he felt himself falling for you, step by stumbling step, until his heart finally gave in and sank below the waves of your warmth.
It’s hard to imagine a time when he wasn’t in love with you, even though such a time did at one point exist. But the way you make him feel with the smallest things you do – the way you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, the way you rest your chin on your hand in thought – it feels like he’s known you for an eternity and loved you even longer, loved you before time existed.
Your stone skips twice across the water and you shout with joy, racing up to Kevin to celebrate. He catches you when you leap at him, arms wrapping around your waist automatically, smiling into your shining face. Yes, he thinks, he’s in love.
He’s so in love with you.
. . . . .
i.
Kevin, by all definitions of the word, is panicking.
He’s been dreading this blind date for almost a month now, circling the day on his calendar and marking it D-Day, begging Jacob and Changmin to come along and hide in case he needs to be bailed out, relentlessly praying that he’ll be able to leave the stupid date in one piece.
(Look, as much as he appreciates Mrs. Park’s kindness and her brownies, she can be… a little overbearing. To say the least.)
Just a few hours ago, he was putting on his yellow sweater and bemoaning the existence of his pushy coworker. Just a few hours ago, he was lamenting his fate to his two friends (friends is a term he will use loosely for today – all they did was laugh at him). Just a few hours ago, he was cursing the existence of Mrs. Park and her brownies for getting him locked into this date with her sister’s kid. Wait, was it her sister? Or her brother?
(“Yes, her sister,” Changmin says, rolling his eyes. “Pay more attention, won’t you, Kev?”
Kevin groans. “Why couldn’t either of you be chosen by Mrs. Park, huh? Why me?”
“Because I have a partner and Jacob is good at disappearing.” Changmin grins that evil, evil grin he always has on just before he’s about to execute a prank on someone (usually Kevin).
“More like the two of you are good at leaving me to fend for myself against Mrs. Park, even though you know I can’t say no to shit,” Kevin grumbles.
“Give up her brownies,” Jacob suggests.
Kevin gasps. “No way in hell.”)
But now, he’s actually sitting across from you in a café not too far from his apartment, holding a cup of coffee between his (visibly shaking) hands. And he can’t even think of why he was dreading this date so much because you’re just… really, really perfect.
Why are you so sweet? he’s screaming inside. Why are you so funny? Why are you literally the perfect mix of snark and kindness and just – everything?
“So my aunt told me you work with her,” you say, seemingly oblivious to Kevin’s jitters. The smile on your face is really sending electricity racing through his heart. “I know the children must be fun, but I know she can be a bit… overbearing.” There’s a hint of apology in your eyes, like you know your aunt must have pressured him into this and you’re sorry that he had to come on a date with you.
Kevin’s stomach flip-flops. Okay, so Mrs. Park maybe did severely pressure and sweetly blackmail Kevin into a blind date. But Kevin also doesn’t want you to feel bad for it because it’s not your fault at all, so as usual, when he finds himself in a tight spot, his mouth decides it’s time to run.
“No, your aunt is really nice,” he starts. “I really mean it – she’s always very kind to the kids and to the rest of us teachers. I’m still kind of new compared to the rest of them – I’ve only been at the school for a few years now – but she helped me feel welcome that first year when I was still figuring things out. And she also likes Beyonce! You know, the greatest female artist there is? She let me play my entire playlist of Beyonce songs for her last year and she liked every single one of them!”
Kevin’s babbling now. Rambling. Whatever he wants to call it. His brain is screaming for him to stop talking but his mouth won’t stop running because this is what he does when he’s nervous. He talks. Endlessly.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the table where Changmin and Jacob are situated in case they need to rescue him from mental or physical harm. The top of Changmin’s head is barely visible behind a huge menu so Kevin can barely see his friend, but somewhere in his babbling haze, he notices a phone camera poking out from behind the menu.
If he wasn’t blushing before, he definitely is now.
Finally, his mouth listens to his brain and he trails off on his last thought on why Beyonce is the best artist in the entire world. There’s a second of silence.
“Sorry,” Kevin finally squeaks. “I… tend to ramble when I get nervous. Or when I talk about Beyonce.”
Your smile flashes even wider. Kevin is torn between wanting to melt into the ground out of embarrassment and staying upright to keep seeing that grin on your face. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you laugh, fiddling with your cup of coffee. “I thought it was cute.”
Kevin’s face burns so much that he misses what you say next. “Sorry?”
You grin. “I’m always interested in hearing about a new artist to add to my playlist.”
Kevin lets out a theatrical gasp. “You don’t have Beyonce in your music library?”
A sheepish look spreads across your face. “… No?”
“Oh my God.” Kevin pulls out his phone. “Okay, I’m about to educate you on the artist of our time.”
The afternoon, then, passes in a flash. Changmin and Jacob eventually just up and exit the café (presumably with enough blackmail to last the rest of Kevin’s life – he knows he was acting like a complete fool, but luckily, you didn’t seem to care), leaving him alone with you. Under any other circumstances, he probably would’ve started crying, but you’re so sweet and so interesting that Kevin thinks he could stay and talk to you in this café forever.
He learns you’re an oncologist at a nearby children’s hospital, that even though the work is hard and tiring and sometimes overwhelmingly depressing, the strength of the children and the families you work with inspire you to keep going every day. He learns that you don’t have too much of a sweet tooth (though you won’t say no to ice cream or cheesecake, both of which he notes in his head), he learns that you love coffee, and he learns that you like to take walks in the park whenever you have a little bit of free time.
He also learns that you’re snarky, intelligent, driven, hardworking. He learns that you’re something far beyond the beauty of your face – that underneath your skin, there’s a heart that’s warmer than the sun.
Kevin understands that this is only the first date and that he maybe shouldn’t be making judgments so quickly. But he’s been told that he’s a relatively good judge of character, and the genuine look in your eyes when you talks speaks volumes about the person deep inside.
Even though you live further away, Kevin takes the bus with you to your home, citing that it’s only polite to walk one’s date to the door (in reality, he just wants to spend a little more time with you). As the bus rattles along the road, Kevin lets you listen to the songs on his phone, delighting in the way your head bobs to the beat of his favorite tracks.
Kevin’s a bit sad when you reach your apartment, sad that your time together is over for the day. He lingers outside the building for a moment, trying to work up the courage to ask about a second date.
Suddenly, you lean forward. Kevin jerks back – he briefly wonders if you’re trying to kiss him – but you just pat a spot on his sweater, frowning slightly at your fingers. “Is that… paint?”
Oh my God.
Kevin tugs the material of his sweater forward so he can see the spot you’re pointing at. Sure enough, there’s a small patch of red paint on the yellow fuzz. He groans. “I didn’t even notice.”
“Well, that’s what people like us get for working with children.” You roll your eyes comically, and Kevin bursts into laughter that’s definitely too loud for the small joke you made. Then silence falls again.
You break it. “Listen, Kevin.”
He perks up. “Hmm?”
“I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this date because my aunt has been trying to set me up with people my age for several years now.” For the first time today, you look shy. “She was probably really pushy with you too, so I’m sorry about that. But I really enjoyed this afternoon.” You meet Kevin’s eyes. “If you’d like, I’d love to go on a second date.”
Kevin’s heart explodes. It really does. Sheer excitement courses through his veins, and he has to stop himself from smiling widely enough to mimic a god damn clown. “I’d love that,” he says trying to hide how eager he really is. “Um, I’ll say that I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this either, mostly because my experience with blind dates has had… limited success. But I’m really glad I met you. You’re a wonderful person.”
Your smile grows wider at Kevin’s admission. “Thank you, Kevin. You’re wonderful too.”
“Do you kiss on the first date?” he blurts out because his brain has no filter. Then he backtracks. “Um, it’s totally okay if you don’t, I was just asking, please don’t think I’m a creep –”
You briefly press your lips to his. Kevin shuts up.
When you break away, Kevin honestly thinks you’re glowing. “Does that answer your question?” you ask, bravely trying to hide something – is that embarrassment? Whatever it is, he thinks it’s adorable.
Kevin blushes. “Yes.”
People probably think he’s insane with the way he’s smiling on the bus ride back to his apartment. He can’t help it, though – the tingling touch of your lips, gentle against his, plays over and over in his mind, along with memories of your lovely voice and your lovely smile and your lovely, lovely disposition. Some people are giving him weird looks, and Jacob and Changmin are sure to tease him to no end when he comes in to work tomorrow.
But who cares? Kevin’s got a second date in the works with one of the most wonderful people he’s ever met.
In his mind, he’s on top of the world.
. . . . .
ii.
Usually, when Kevin gets lucky and scores a second date or a third, he suggests taking his date somewhere with children to gauge how they feel about small toddlers tearing up the place. Children are a huge part of Kevin’s life – he teaches elementary school and knows he wants kids when he gets a bit older – so one of the silent standards he’s set for potential significant others is that they have to like and be good with children.
You work at a children’s hospital, Kevin knows, so you must at least be good with kids, even if you might not like them (hey, it’s possible – Kevin has known many people who are good at things they hate). That fulfills half of the standard. He just needs to gauge the other half.
There aren’t many events at the school coming up, though – no plays, no art exhibitions, nothing he can really invite you to. He’s racking his brains for a third date somehow involving children when you unexpectedly call him about an event at the hospital.
“I know it’s last minute,” you apologize profusely, “but the guy who was supposed to come today for the kids’ music hour called in sick. I don’t want to cancel the event because they always look forward to it and I know you play the piano – would it be possible for you to fill in?”
It is possible, it turns out. He may not be able to pack his Yamaha upright into the back of your car, but he does have an electronic keyboard that fits into your trunk. The whole way there, you’re apologizing, but between reassurances that it’s totally fine, Kevin can’t help but anticipate how you’ll act around the children once the two of you arrive.
Setting up takes more time than he’d like (the extension cord that comes with his keyboard is too short, so you disappear on a twenty-minute manhunt for a longer one while Kevin just stands there awkwardly), which makes him feel slightly like a burden on the rest of your coworkers. They’re so polite, though, so genuine and kind, that Kevin eventually starts to feel more at ease.
(He’s still endlessly grateful when you return, extension cord clasped victoriously in one hand.)
Then the kids start trickling in, and Kevin’s heart immediately both breaks and melts. Some are in wheelchairs, others have lost their hair, but they’re all smiling with so much excitement, chattering to their parents and the staff around them as they settle on beanbags and pillows on the floor. Several look at him curiously and he smiles at them, prompting several questions about who he is, why there’s a keyboard and not a guitar, and why the normal guy isn’t here.
“The usual guy got sick and couldn’t come,” Kevin says to one sweet girl with chubby cheeks and shining eyes. “I’m just here to replace him for a day.”
“Do you play the piano?” she asks, shyly pointing at the keyboard, which more than a few curious souls are standing around.
Kevin smiles. “Yes, I do.” He would say more, maybe offer to show her the instrument a little, but then you’re walking over, and her eyes brighten. “Dr. L/N!” she cheers.
With a loud laugh, you swoop her up carefully, cradling the girl against your shoulder. “How are you, Daeun?” you ask, lips spread in a smile that Kevin knows can’t be faked.
The girl – Daeun – grins. “I’ve been good!” she announces proudly. “Are we going to start soon?”
You laugh again, settling her back down on the floor. Kevin thinks his heart melts with the way your eyes sparkle. “Yes, we are,” you say. “I see you’ve already met Kevin?”
“Your name is Kevin?” Daeun looks at him curiously. “Your name is strange.”
Kevin has to force himself not to coo. “I was born in Canada,” he says. “My Korean name is Hyungseo.”
Daeun’s nose scrunches. “I like Kevin more,” she decides with finality.
Kevin feels brave enough to pat her on the head. “Then you can call me Kevin.”
“All right, Daeun. Go find your mom, okay? Kevin and I are going to finish setting up, and then we’ll get started.” With a soft kiss on the forehead (Kevin makes a sound he really hopes you don’t hear – the scene is just too adorable), you send the small girl off, turning back to Kevin. “Shall we get started?” you ask, grinning widely.
It may only be the third date, but he’s falling in love, Kevin thinks, falling in love with your shining face and sparkling eyes, with the way you shower love upon the children you’ve placed under your care. Right now, you’re everything he’s ever wanted in a future partner – beautiful in character, kind, gentle, fiercely loving.
His heart pounds a little faster.
Belatedly, Kevin realizes you’re waiting for a response and nods quickly. “Yeah,” he breathes, eyes glancing over the sea of children waiting (somewhat) patiently. A smile to rival yours spreads across his face. “Let’s get started.”
. . . . .
iii.
Kevin loves the last Friday of every month, he really does. It’s been tradition for several years now to go out with Changmin and Jacob on what he calls nights for “the boyz” to eat cheap food and get drunk. And no matter how much the others complain about the stupid name (Kevin will admit it sounds stupid now, but that doesn’t mean he’ll change it), he knows they enjoy the nights all the same.
Sometimes, though, Kevin just wishes he had more of a filter on his mouth. If not that, then maybe his brain could stop remembering every single dumb thing he said or did on drunk nights out. It would make his life a lot easier if he could just forget being stupid.
But no, God decided to be mean when making Kevin Moon. So Kevin, as a result, is an emotional drunk. He cries a lot when he hears about sad or adorable things, he says a lot of stupid stuff to (badly) express his overwhelming feelings, and worst of all, he remembers all of it when he wakes up hungover the next morning.
(None of this stops him from getting drunk anyway. Kevin Moon doesn’t learn lessons when it comes to alcohol. When he falls on his face (sometimes literally), he just gets up again, even if it’s with a bloody nose.)
Luckily, the night doesn’t end in chaos. Even though Jacob, who’s half of Kevin’s impulse control, leaves after an hour (he’s meeting with his family the next day, so Kevin is obligated call him a noob – it’s like a law of physics or something), Changmin doesn’t seem to be in the mood to do weird things without Jacob there to stop him, so the night passes relatively smoothly without Kevin throwing, like, a tantrum or anything.
He gets close, though. Because damn, if Changmin isn’t so fucking adorable when talking about his partner. Buried in his purple hoodie, black hair peeking softly over the top, it’s impossible for Kevin not to tear up when Changmin begins gushing over his beautiful, amazing, wonderful significant other whom he just compared to stardust.
Stardust.
Kevin wants to scream, that’s so romantic.
When you come to pick him and Changmin up, Kevin can’t resist relaying all of this to you as soon as he gets in the car. Vaguely, he thinks he should be worried about Changmin hearing it and hitting him, but the boy is mostly asleep in the back, eyes only fluttering slightly when you go over a bump or something. After Changmin gets dropped off at his apartment, Kevin turns the gushing on full force.
“Y/N, the love of my life, he called her stardust,” he’s still babbling even as you strongarm him up to his own apartment. “He’s so adorable. Changmin is so adorable. Oh my God.”
He thinks you snort. Probably. It would be a normal response. “Didn’t you call him the spawn of Satan just a few days ago?”
Definitely a snort, Kevin thinks, but he’s too invested in Changmin’s loveliness to whine about you making fun of him. “Y/N,” he pouts instead, “listen to meeeeee.”
“I’m listening, I’m listening.” You grunt, catching him just as he misses the next step and almost falls forward. “Hey, be careful.”
“’M trying.” Kevin manfully does his best to stop the world from tilting on its side. “But Changminnie.”
“Yes, yes, Changminnie.” Even drunk, Kevin can make out the playful exasperation in your voice. “Keep going.”
“Thank you, love of my life.” Kevin tries to give you a kiss but his lips hit air instead of your cheek. “Heck.”
You burst into loud laughter. “Kevin Moon, you never told me you were this adorable when drunk.”
“Changminnie,” he says more insistently.
“Okay, yes, I’m listening.” You kiss his cheek instead, and Kevin almost topples over right then and there. “Hey, you can’t fall over whenever I kiss you. Tell me about Changmin.”
Kevin starts flailing his arms around as best he can. “He’s so cute!” he half-yells. “He told me his partner was like stardust because she’s so perfect and warm, but she’s also like stardust because… because…”
His lip juts out.
“Oh, no, don’t cry, Kev.” You stop moving, then Kevin registers you bundling him into a hug, patting his head. “I know you’re a sad emotional drunk, but don’t cry.”
“Not crying,” Kevin protests, visibly crying.
“Mhm.” You pat his head one last time before letting go. “Hey, give me a second, I’m going to unlock your door.”
There’s some fumbling and a quiet snick, then Kevin obediently follows you through the door of his apartment. Once inside, you press a thumb to the side of his face, brushing a tear away. “Tell me what Changmin said to make you sad.”
“Changminnie said he’s afraid she’ll… she’ll… slip away between his fingers. Like stardust.” Kevin feels like he’s going to start sobbing any moment now. “He’s afraid she’s going to leave him eventually because she’s too perfect and he’s not good enough.”
“Oh my God.” You sit down on the couch. Kevin follows suit, albeit a lot more ungracefully as he collapses onto a cushion in a tangle of limbs. “Oh my God, that’s so sad and cute at the same time.”
“I said he should call her his star,” Kevin mumbles, turning slightly so he can burrow into your side. “Because stardust. Texted them about it. Both of them.”
Your laugh sounds like music even to the drunken haze of his brain. “Wonder what they’ll think when they see a drunken keysmash on their phones first thing tomorrow morning.”
The two of you sit in silence for a bit. Kevin feels his eyes beginning to get droopy, and he almost falls asleep before a thought strikes him with lightning force.
“I need to give you a nickname!” he almost yells, sitting bolt upright. The movement makes the room spin, but he doesn’t care. This is urgent. “Changmin’s going to call her his star, but I haven’t given you a nickname yet!”
“Kev, Kev.” You hold him by the shoulders, and he relaxes a little. “You can come up with a nickname for me in the morning. Right now, I think you need to sleep.”
“No,” he whines, shifting in your grip. “This is important. You need a nickname.” He sinks into deep, drunken thoughts, the kinds of thoughts he has when he ignores everything around him in favor of getting philosophical after having drunk too much alcohol.
Then it hits him.
“Oh my God,” he gasps. “Oh my God.” It’s his turn to grab you by the shoulders, now. “Oh my God. You’re the sun. Because I’m the moon. Get it? Kevin Moon?”
Through his drunken haze, Kevin thinks he sees you smile, maybe. It looks like a smile.
Your eyes are sparkling. You look happy.
Probably a smile.
“I’m a genius,” he whispers. A genius for coming up with the nickname and for making you happy.
“Sure, Kevin.” You grunt a little as he shifts his weight. “Come on, get up. We’ll see if you’re still a genius tomorrow if you wake up and remember all of this.”
Kevin doesn’t register much for the rest of the night, just remembers falling into his bed and forcing you to lie down next to him. The next morning, he wakes up with a throbbing headache and the vague, ever-present worry that he said something stupid last night.
You’re not in the bed with him anymore. Kevin blinks once, twice, before trying to sit up so to figure out where you went. Then he remembers you don’t live here. You probably went home.
Which is why he nearly goes into cardiac arrest when you appear in his doorway, holding a mug of coffee and a glass of water.
For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. Kevin’s not sure what thoughts are running through your head, but he knows he’s trying to piece together what happened last night, and whether or not he should be hiding under the covers out of embarrassment.
Then it hits him.
Sun.
Moon.
Genius.
Oh, God.
Kevin wants to die.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says, using your new nickname in the desperate hope that it’ll distract you from remembering the rest of what he said last night.
A catlike smirk curls your lips as you walk over, pressing the glass of water into his hands. A feeling of dread fills Kevin’s heart as he takes it.
“Morning, genius,” you say with enough evil delight to power Changmin for a year.
Kevin groans. “I was drunk.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Your teasing smile melts into something gentler as you place your mug on the bedside table, turning to bring the glass of water in his hands to his lips. “Coffee’s mine, don’t touch it or I’ll break a bone. Drink the water. I made some breakfast, so come into the kitchen whenever you feel up to it. After you’ve brushed your teeth.”
Warmth courses through Kevin’s body, and it has nothing to do with the alcohol from last night and everything to do with how you’re here in body and mind, sweetly helping him recover from a stupid hangover even when it’s definitely not your problem to take care of and you probably have better things to do. His heart thumps, loud enough that he thinks you could probably hear it.
In this moment, Kevin doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful for anything than you coming into his life.
“Got it.” He awkwardly tries to salute, but he does it with the hand holding the glass and the water nearly spills onto the bed. As his cheeks flush, you break into snorting giggles.
Even though it’s at his expense, Kevin thinks he would do anything, anything in the world, to keep that wonderful smile on your face and that musical laughter in the air.
. . . . .
iv.
Only when you move in together does Kevin realize just how taxing your job is. He had an idea from when you sometimes had to cancel or move around dates, but when you did meet up, you were usually energetic and cheerful. Of course, there were the token dates where you just came over to Kevin’s apartment or he came over to yours and you just flopped around for a few hours. Outside, though, you always showed a bright face.
But that was because dates were mostly on your days off or when your hours were short, and as a result, you felt good enough, energized enough to show Kevin your brilliant smile. When you first moved in together, Kevin felt a bit surprised – well, maybe not surprised, but saddened – that you didn’t have the energy to smile as brightly as he saw before.
It’s fine by Kevin, though. You smile often enough, and if your teeth don’t show as much as they used to, there’s something beautiful, something calming and sweet in the slower curve of your lips, the gentle, lethargic way you lean up for a kiss. After all, Kevin has enough energy to compensate for when you might lack some of yours.
(It helps that he can cook, he thinks. Even when the kids at school sometimes wear him out, the brief sparkle in your eye that spreads across your lips when you walk through the door to see him stirring something on the stove is more than enough to make up for it.)
You’re cute, too, when you’re tired. Though Kevin loves it when you’re energetic and ready for whatever the day has decided to throw in your path, there’s something so peaceful, so pleasant about feeling you lying lethargically against his side on the couch, scrolling through your phone or reading a book or just resting, doing nothing but breathing softly. Kevin cherishes those small moments, the soft atmosphere where he kisses your hair and you smile, reach up, and press a kiss of your own to his cheek.
Tonight is one of those nights, a night of soft, comforting silence, words few and far between. It’s been a bit warm lately, so Kevin’s elected to wear one of the tank tops he keeps for the warmer months instead of his usual sweater.
You sit next to him on the couch, back pressed to his side as you send off emails on your phone. Kevin’s working too, inputting grades on his laptop. He hums a little under his breath to take his mind off of the monotony of his task.
At some point, you finish, putting down your phone with a sigh and slumping into his ribs. Kevin starts at the sudden movement. “Sunshine,” he whines, even though he could really care less.
“Moon boy,” you parrot in the same tone of voice.
Kevin’s attention turns back to his laptop, so he barely registers you shifting on the couch to a new position. He does notice it, though, when your fingers start trailing along his skin, exposed by the lack of sleeves on his tank top, because your touch tickles.
You completely ignore his resulting twitch of surprise, only keep tracing the skin of his rib cage. Kevin looks down, confused as to what’s caught your attention.
Oh. His tattoos.
“Sunshine?” he asks softly, watching your fingers shift along his skin.
“Mm,” you hum, eyes still fixated on the ink decorating his side.
“Sleepy?”
Slowly, you shake your head, fingers paused on the image of Mickey Mouse. “Not yet.”
He goes back to inputting grades, all the while still aware of your fingers tracing the lines, the curls, the swirls of black ink along his side. When he finishes, he looks over before closing his laptop to see your eyes still focused on his skin.
Something in his heart explodes, spreading a tingly, comforting warmth throughout his body. It’s a feeling he’s come to associate with your presence, a feeling of absolute security, absolute trust, absolute warmth that comes with falling in love with you.
You look up, noticing his lack of movement. “Finished, moonbeams?”
“First moon boy, now moonbeams?” Kevin teases you lightly, picking up the hand you were using to trace his skin and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. Just like every other time he’s ever done it, a wide smile spreads across your face and a shyness sparkles in your eyes, as though you still can’t believe the bliss of the moment.
(At least, that’s what Kevin feels every time you do something to remind him that he’s yours.)
Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Can’t call you moonshine, that’s an alcohol.” You shrug as best as you can in your stretched-out position. “Moonbeams, moon boy… whatever feels right.”
Kevin puts his laptop on the coffee table. As he leans back into the couch, you curl up into him, one hand still lingering against the Mickey Mouse tattoo on his side. “Tell me about these?” you ask, pressing your fingers a bit more firmly against the ink.
His tattoos are personal, serving as reminders of the past and inspiration to keep moving. Rarely does he share their meanings with anyone (not that people usually ask, because the tattoos are mostly covered by his clothes), and only with those who mean the world to him.
Kevin thinks you qualify as one of them.
Touching your shoulders, he turns you around slightly, just enough to press a short, sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Of course, sunshine.” He smiles, gazing into your eyes, feeling the warmth of your love travel through his limbs. “Which one first?”
. . . . .
v.
Kevin Moon, for the majority of his life, has hovered in between being classified as a morning person or a night owl. Yes, he gets up at six in the morning for a cup of coffee, but he also stays up past midnight doing… stuff. Grading, writing reports, watching cat videos, wasting time.
(When Changmin judges his lifestyle, Kevin just reminds him that he fell in love with his roommate’s hookup and is on a dance team with the parent of one of his students.)
Honestly, if Kevin didn’t remind himself every so often that he’s currently a full adult, his lifestyle would make him think he was still in college. He certainly still acts like it when he isn’t working. Procrastinating? Check. Crying over reports he needs to submit at three a.m.? Check. Flopping around on the floor when life is going badly? Check.
And most importantly: nonexistent sleep schedule? Check.
You put a stop to that real quick when you move in, both directly and indirectly. Directly, you make an appointment for him at a sleep clinic after figuring out his shitty sleep patterns, and Kevin finds out he probably has mild insomnia. The aftermath is horrible – you put him on a strict sleep schedule and all but ban caffeine from his diet (goodbye, morning coffee) – but it helps, after a couple of weeks. He sleeps better. Perks of having a partner who works in medicine.
Indirectly, though, you probably make a bigger difference.
See, the way Kevin thinks about it, he just never had a lot of reasons to stay in bed very long. Even though he appreciates sleep, really appreciates it on long days, it’s just that he can’t really force it if it doesn’t want to come. He’d also rather be doing something productive (or not productive, depends on the asker’s perspective) than lying awake for hours, anyway.
But now that he’s waking up to a face he loves?
Well, even if you sometimes disappear before he wakes (hospital hours are whack as hell, but sadly, you can’t ignore your job), Kevin will just say your warmth is a powerful incentive to stay huddled under the covers, even if he can’t fall back asleep.
He still wakes up every morning to grey light beginning to peek through the window. No matter how hard he tries to sleep in just a little longer, his body can’t seem to stay unconscious past six in the morning, so both of you have just resigned yourselves to the fact that Kevin will always be an early riser.
Before you walked into his life, he would’ve rolled out of bed almost immediately, stumbled to the bathroom (and maybe knocked his knee against the doorframe, who knows), then started brewing coffee in the kitchen to start the day.
Now?
A drowsy smile begins to make its way across Kevin’s face, soft as the morning light, when his brain catches up to the present and he registers your warmth under the covers. Sleepily, he blinks, taking in the sight of your peaceful face buried halfway in the sheets.
You shouldn’t look this beautiful, Kevin thinks, not with your hair strewn all over the pillow, blankets rumpled around your shoulders, arms outstretched so that one sort of curls over his body while the other is held up to your chest. It’s the morning – no one should look pretty and put-together. That isn’t natural.
(Unless you happy to be Kim Younghoon, but that’s another story.)
Yet you somehow look like a sleeping deity in Kevin’s mind, even with your hair a mess and drool drying on the pillowcase. As the drowsiness clears from his eyes, as the light from the window grows brighter, Kevin can barely even think of moving, of disturbing your peace.
He dislikes your alarm. It’s loud, annoying, and hits him with a jolt when he’s just trying to take these stolen morning moments to admire your beauty. When he complains about it the first time, you tell him to serve as the alarm, to wake you up himself.
Kevin counters that he’s an artist, that he needs peace and quiet to give beauty of such a degree the respect it deserves. You just roll your eyes, telling him that if he isn’t going to wake you up, the alarm’s going to have to take that job. The smile on your face, though, and the brief kiss you press to his lips right after, speaks volumes for the emotions Kevin’s words make you feel.
(He loves flustering you like this, even if you pretend his words don’t make you feel some sort of way.)
So eventually, you wake, eyes fluttering as the alarm brings you back to the conscious plane. Kevin’s heart feels like it’s bursting when your eyes fully open, blearily blinking at the world.
“Morning, sunshine,” he whispers, running one hand through your hair.
You lean slightly into the touch, the corners of your lips twitching up. And every day, as he stares into your sleepy eyes, lips curling as you whisper a quiet “Morning, moon boy” in reply, Kevin knows he’s falling, falling in love with every part of you.
. . . . .
+i.
Kevin’s waiting in front of the school when you pull up at the curb. Smiling apologetically, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek as you step out of the car. “Sorry, sunshine.” He gestures at the two small boys standing beside him, absorbed in their own world. “Their uncle’s running late and Changmin and Jacob have things to do, so I need to wait for Sangyeon to pick them up before we can go.”
“No worries.” You return the kiss, smiling as bright as the sun. Kevin feels a flash of pride for coming up with a nickname that fits you so well. “We have the whole afternoon, don’t we?”
“That, we do.” He grins, squeezing your hand.
“Mr. Moon, who’s that?” a small voice asks closer to the ground. The two of you turn to see Sunwoo and Eric trotting over, curious looks on their faces.
Kevin looks over at you, but you’re already bending down to get to eye level with the two boys. “Oh, hello!” Your grin, if possible, grows wider. “I’m Y/N, Kevin’s significant other. What are your names?”
“I’m Eric,” Eric pipes up. “This is my brother, Sunwoo.”
Sunwoo just stares with round eyes. Well, he’s always been the shyer of the two.
“Those are lovely names,” you reply smoothly, giving Sunwoo an encouraging smile. Kevin feels his heart melt completely at how well you interact with the kids. “I’m just going to be waiting with Kevin until your uncle picks you up, is that okay?”
The two kids nod and immediately go back to babbling in their own little world. Kevin notices the fond smile on your face, and his heart melts even more.
“They’re so cute,” you whisper to him.
“I know, right?” Kevin clutches his heart dramatically. “Can you imagine teaching them every day?”
Just as you’re shaking your head in comic disbelief, another car pulls up behind yours. A harried-looking young man quickly exits and Eric and Sunwoo cheer, distracted by the arrival of their uncle.
“Sorry about this,” Sangyeon says, absentmindedly patting Eric’s head as the boy hugs his leg. Sunwoo seems to be attempting to climb onto his uncle’s back. “Traffic wasn’t the kindest when I was getting out of work.” Then he notices you. “Oh, hello. Are you Kevin’s partner?”
“That I am.” You stick out a hand. “I’m Y/N, and I’ve been told you’re Sangyeon?”
Sangyeon nods, smiling. “Nice to meet you. And to see that Kevin’s found someone to deal with his antics.”
Kevin blushes as you laugh. “Hey,” he complains. “No jokes at my expense, please.”
“Sure, moonbeams.” You roll your eyes, then turn back to Sangyeon. “It’s nice to meet you. Your nephews are adorable.”
The smile that Sangyeon gives the two boys clambering around him says it all. “They are, aren’t they?” He checks his watch. “I’m sorry, I have to go now. My sister’s expecting us back soon, and I’m already a bit late.”
Kevin breathes a sigh of relief. No more teasing at his expense from Sangyeon, at least, though there’s no guarantee from you. “Nice seeing you, Sangyeon. And have a good day, kids.”
A small chorus of “You too, Mr. Moon!” sounds, and Kevin expects that to be the end. Sangyeon will herd the boys into the car, Kevin will follow you into yours, and then you’ll go your separate ways. What he doesn’t expect is for Sunwoo to look out at you from behind his uncle’s leg, round eyes cautiously curious, and ask you a question.
“Y/N?”
Immediately, you turn around, teasing smirk melting into a gentle smile for the small boy. “Yes, Sunwoo?”
Sunwoo’s eyes dart between you and Kevin. Then, softly, shyly – “Do you love Mr. Moon?”
Time seems to stop as Kevin’s breath hitches in his throat at the sudden question, but you only look back at him, eyes soft and sparkling in the sunlight. 
Your answer glitters in your gaze.
Though you’re supposed to be talking to Sunwoo, your eyes stay fixed on Kevin, strong and unyielding, yet gentle and affectionate, as you answer. Your voice is soft when you reply. “Yes, Sunwoo. I do love him.” The smile on your face grows wider as you turn back to the child. “I love him very much.”
Indescribable warmth floods Kevin’s chest and tears prick his eyes. And as Sangyeon hurries his nephews away, as you turn around to unlock your car, one truth burns with absolute, crystal-clear certainty in his mind.
He isn’t falling in love with you, not anymore. No, he’s far past that stage.
Kevin Moon is completely, wholly, irrevocably in love with you.
“Kevin?” You look at him from the other side of the car. “You coming?”
A wide grin spreads across his face as he meets your sparkling eyes. Love blooms in his chest.
“Coming, sunshine.”
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(1 reblog = 1 prayer for kevin’s whipped ass ksjdkgsdhjk)
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marrys-dream-world · 3 years
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if we’re bound to be something, why not together? (chapter 11)
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Notes:  Double update to cheer up a bit! This chapter turned out much longer than I thought it would be, almost double the size of other chapters. No content warning, just fluff! The song "Blueming" by IU, I think this fits this chapter a lot so if you want a song to listen while you read, it's that! Day 11: Voice Mail/Phone calls. @ladynoirjuly
After their last patrol, Ladybug sent Chat Noir a link through their communicators.
[Download this!!] She sent along with it, eagerly waiting for him. 
[As my lady commands : D] He sent back almost immediately. 
That talk had been a bit of an eye-opener to Marinette. She was getting to know Chat Noir more and more each day and she treasured every bit of information she got, jealousy holding it close to chest, hesitating to write it even in her diary. He was a quiet student during class, he had a friend whose name was definitely not Sallie (ugh), his father was distant, his mother and mother-figure were out of reach. He was lonely. All this information was worrying, just not as much as what she learned that night. At that moment, with him shaking in her arms, she made a decision.
Being there for him just as Ladybug wasn't going to cut it anymore. 
This idea wasn't anything new, she had been playing with it in her mind for a while now. So when she sent him a chat room code through her communicator with other instructions and detransformed, she was fairly confident it would work. Picking up her phone, she smiles as she saw that there was already a message.
CN
My lady!! <3 <3 <3
LB
down, Chaton. :)
CN
I'm just mdlaomqnahsbsk
Is it okay, though? Talking like this?
LB
yeah, i've been testing this app with RR and it's fine, there's no way we'll leak our numbers or anything like that to each other. don't worry ;)
CN
This app is to warn each other about attacks and schedule meetings? Are you going to add RR to the chat?
LB
nah, i'll just make one for the 3 of us. this is one for us to talk and stuff, doesn't need to be about job things.  
The "CN is typing…" kept it's place on the screen for enough time for her to start getting worried. 
CN
You don't need to force yourself for my sake, bug. I don't want to bother you. 
Marinette thought about making a joke. The situation, however, didn't seem right for it. 
LB
you never bother me.
His response came almost immediately.
CN
You never texted me before.
LB
guess i'll have to learn what's the maximum amount of cat memes a person can humanely send per day
CN
Is that a challenge, my lady?
LB
;) ;) ;)
just remember to not blow up my phone, we have class
CN
I'll use my powers for good, don't worry : D
Marinette smiled and put down her phone, fixing up her bag for the next day on the chance (certainty) that she would wake up late the next day. When she picked the phone up again, there was a single text:
LB
Thank you, bug. Good night. 
He was absolutely unstoppable after that. Next morning, as she was brushing her teeth, her cell phone pinged with the telling sound from the app and she smiled as she opened the app on her phone. 
CN
Look, look, we can change each other's names.
LB
good to know
You changed "CN" 's name to "Chat-terbox"
Chat-terbox
You know me so well. Soulmates.
Chat-terbox changed your name to "lady of my heart"
lady of my heart
yeah, i should have seen that coming, that's on me. 
oh yeah, gm
Chat-terbox
Good morning <3 <3 <3
Are you in class already?
Marinette froze in place, eyes snapping to the clock. There was only ten minutes before the class started. She bolted, barely noticing if she had on the right shoes or if her jacket matched her pants. So much for being an aspiring designer. Marinette blurred past the kitchen, taking a croissant and a banana and cramming them into her mouth as she ran. She made it to the classroom in the middle of the roll call, not even stopping by the lockers.
“Thanks for joining us, Marinette.” Ms. Bustier said dryly. “Please take a seat.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” She answered, out of breath. Sitting down, she took out her tablet and noticed another message making her phone screen glow. 
Chat-terbox
Is everything okay?
lady of my heart
i made it late in class but the teacher let me in hehehe
i think she's used to it *forehead sweatdrop emoji*
Chat-terbox
Hahaha a friend of mine just did the same thing, you two are twins 
lady of my heart
let me guess… Sallie *eyeroll emoji*
Chat-terbox
I mean, yeah, but why the eyeroll???
lady of my heart
you just talk too much about her, don't you think
Chat-terbox
You sound just like Plagg.
lady of my heart
maybe bc we're right
Chat-terbox
Why does that bother you? Jealous? *eyes emoji*
lady of my heart
as if *kicks u*
Chat-terbox
You kick your partner? You kick his body like the football? Oh! Oh! Jail for my lady! Jail for my lady for One Thousand Years!
lady of my heart
since my fate is already decided *kicks u again*
Chat-terbox
Nooooooooo
A giggle escaped her mouth.
"Marinette?" Ms. Bustier raised an eyebrow. "Something you want to share with the class?"
"N-no, ma'am." She answered, face heating up. Marinette quietly put her phone away, ignoring Alya's prying eyes. 
She only opened the app again during the break between classes, moving away from a curious Alya to hang by Kim and Alíx. 
Chat-terbox
I'll assume you're actually paying attention to class, which is great. You probably need it to make up all those crazy plans ;)
SM beaten by ninth grade physics 
Hey, boo, did you see this one SM identity theory video making rounds on the internet?
Marinette frowned.
lady of my heart
there's nothing new on the ladyblog
Chat-terbox
Oh, it's not on the Ladyblog, here 
She opened the video as quickly as she could before Ms. Bustier came back, only from the sound to make Kim and Alíx burst out into laughter.
lady of my heart
i opened it in my class I hate u so muuuuuch ughhhhhh
Chat-terbox 
C'mon, boo, it was funny
lady of my heart
>: (
Chat-terbox
: 3
This time, she willingly put her phone away. 
On the next break, she tried to ignore the pinging from her phone. However, curiosity killed the cat(‘s lady).
Chat-terbox
Please don't be mad, my lady, I have written you a lengthy apology to make up for sins
File attachment: apology letter for my beloved.doc
lady of my heart
if it's another rickroll i swear to god i'll END you
Chat-terbox
You can see it's not a video, it's safe to open
Scout's honor
lady of my heart
u were never a scout
Chat-terbox
I could be!!
Please read <3
Sighing deeply, she clicked on the document. He would never shut up if she didn't. It read as:
l would like to offer my sincerest According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible…
She clicked back
Chat-terbox
Did you like it? :3
lady of my heart
blocked
Chat-terbox
Boo, noooooooo
After that, Marinette didn’t open the app again no matter how much her phone pinged. She wasn’t mad, not really, just a bit annoyed. Before lunch ended, she would read and answer. But now, she was stuck watching Alya and Nino play Super Penguino and make moon eyes at each other. Adrien wasn’t allowed to join them, as much as he begged his father, and she was feeling pretty bummed about that. She poked around her chicken pasta when she heard her phone playing a familiar song.
kore nani kore nani korenanikorenanikorenanikorenani-
Chat Noir!
"Is everything okay?" Marinette asked as soon as she picked up the phone. Alya and Nino, noticing her worried tone, paused their game to look at her. 
"You picked up!" Chat Noir said, cheery. "I thought you blocked me."
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Is there actually something wrong? I'll hang up "
"No, wait!" He yelped. "There's nothing wrong, I just wanted to talk. Are you busy?"
Marinette looked over at Nino and Alya, who were still watching her expectantly. She smiles reassuringly and waved them away, furtively signaling to Alya that it was Chat Noir on the phone. Her friend nodded and bumped her shoulder on Nino's. 
"C'mon, babe, let Marinette talk to her 'friend' by herself." Alya said, leering. 
"Why did you say it like that?" Nino asked, confused. Then, his eyes lit up. "Is it Adrien? Tell him I said hi!"
"No!" Marinette shouted, gaining weird stares from the other patrons.
"No, you aren't busy?" Chat Noir asked on the phone.
"No, it's not Adrien, or no, you won't tell him I said hi?" Nino asked. 
"It's another friend." She said hurriedly before focusing on the phone. "I can talk now, not that busy."
"If you're with your friends, it's okay." He said, rather meekly for her chaton.
"I'm just third-wheeling." Marinette said as Alya and Nino began another round of Super Penguins. "Why did you call? Aren't you having lunch now?"
Chat Noir chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, I'm having lunch at home and I'm all alone, so I thought I could give you a call. Is that too much?"
"No, it's fine." She reassured. "Why are you alone? What about your siblings?"
"What siblings?" He asked, genuinely confused. 
"Uh… the siblings I assumed you had for some reason." She said awkwardly, noticing how out there she sounded the more she spoke. 
"Really? You thought I had siblings? Why?"
"Because you're just like an annoying little brother." She said teasingly, a complete lie.
Chat Noir struck her as a mischievous, but supportive older brother. The kind that sneaked you treats after midnight and comforted you after failing a math test. Not like she could tell him that, though. If he was a little brother, it would be to a stressed older sister that he admired a lot and that found him reliable in return. She dreamed about meeting them sometimes and now it seemed that they would truly stay dreams forever. 
"I would like an older brother or sister." He sighed longingly. "The closest I have is my cousin, but he lives in another country."
"Oh, sorry."
"No, it's better this way, we would kill each other if we lived together. Everyday I would have to check for poison in my breakfast."
"A true sibling dynamic."
"Yep."
"Hey, why aren't you having lunch with your friends then?" With Sallie, she wanted to tease, but held back for fear of sounding, as Tikki said, bitter. 
"My father would rather I have lunch at home." He said vaguely. "My friends did invite me to go with them to a café, but my father didn't like the idea. He only likes one of them, the rest he says are bad influences."
"Let me guess, the one he likes is Sallie?"
"I can hear you rolling your eyes, but yes."
"Well, if you ever get lonely at lunch, you can call me." Marinette said honestly. "I don't mind it."
"Thank you." Chat Noir said softly.
They spent the rest of lunch talking on the phone, even sending pictures of their food to each other (Chat's limp salad made her take a bunch of mental notes to take him some pastries next patrol). On the way to school, as she walked to the classroom, they kept talking. She could hear Chat getting on a vehicle (a bus?) and when he got to school, she was disappointed he had to hang up. After Marinette clicked the end call button, the first thing she noticed when she looked up was Alya's smug face and Nino's confused one. 
"Wow, does my bro have some competition, dude?" Nino said. "You spent the entire break talking."
"What? No, that was just a friend!"
"Yeah, a friend." Alya sing-songed, making her face heat up.
"Yeah." Marinette said firmly. "There's no competition for anything."
"Who's competing?" A sweet voice asked from behind her and she jumped.
"Adrien!" She shouted, scrambling. "N-nothing hehe."
"Dude!" Nino smiled. "How was your lunch?"
Adrien smiled, brightly. "The best I've ever had."
Marinette felt inclined to agree. 
37 notes · View notes
shingia · 4 years
Note
Hello!!! I love ur fics sm 😭💖 This is weirdly specific and been plaguing my mind for days,,, Can I req an angsty fic where Atsumu broke up with the reader because he wants to chase his dreams and ultimately leaves but with the reader saying "I'll wait" . A few months later he seeks for the reader again and finds out the reader has terminal illness and is dying. You can decide if there's major character death or a miracle,,,, please and thank u so much!!
𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐨𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐨 - 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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aw thank youuuu <33 and also WOW this request is in-tense, i modified the ‘terminal illness’ part a little bit for plot convenience, but i rly hope you’re gonna like it ! i am : stressed. also, i’m a sucker for happy endings (just ignore my last bokuto fic) so i couldn’t go full angst on that one 😅
quick storytime : my great grandpa died from heartbreak and i always thought it was a beautiful (yet very sad) way to die, so i guess that’s where i got my inspiration from <3
⤷  atsumu x gn!reader | angst | word count : 1.7K
warnings : hospital environment, heart condition, mild description of ‘illness’ and mentions of death (a little)
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your first kiss with miya atsumu had been sloppy, dizzy, with a strong scent of rum and smudged lip balm all over your lips. but there was no doubt that it had been the best kiss of your entire lives…
…just like your last had been the worst. 
two months later, atsumu still couldn’t forget the salty taste of your lips that begged him not to leave. if he focused hard enough, he could even remember the feeling of your hands desperately clinging to his jacket in a last attempt at making him stay by your side.
but he didn’t, and as much as he hated himself for putting an end - even temporary - to what had been the most beautiful chapter of his life, he had never regretted his decision ; and he knew exactly why. you had promised to wait for him, and in pure egoism, he knew and hoped that you would. because no matter the distance, he was still madly in love with you.
which is why he did not understand why osamu was so outraged when he told him that he was finally ready to come back to you. but the younger twin knew things that his brother didn’t - he had seen you let yourself waste away, like nothing else mattered without the one you loved.
but more than that, atsumu did not know about the secret his brother promised to keep. he did not know that, two weeks ago, osamu had found you unconscious in your living room with an alarmingly slow heartbeat. the poor boy had not understood everything the doctors had told him - but whatever a cardiogenic shock was, he knew that it would have carried you off if without his intervention.
however, you had been categorical : atsumu shouldn’t not know about this, under any pretext. you refused to be a burden to the pursuit of his dreams for which he had already sacrificed so much for. but now that atsumu was back, something about this promise didn’t sit right with his brother. and so he decided to tell him everything.
« …most doctors thought about a standard heart attack » he told him after explaining the situation, on the lookout for any impulsive reaction from his brother. « … but one of them talked about something else. you might want to sit down ».
but atsumu couldn’t care less about his brother’s advice. actually, he didn’t care about anything else than you right now. it was already taking a lot of effort for him to stand there listening to samu instead of being on his way to the hospital - but he stayed. for an obscure reason that he didn’t really understand, he stayed.
« did you know that people can die of heartbreak ? » osamu asked, more serious than he had ever been in his whole life. 
the blonde twin felt like the ground had suddenly swallowed him whole - although his brother was trying his best not to sound too accusating, it was more than obvious that whatever situation you were in was because of him. and only him.
« no they can’t » he tried to protest, not even believing in his own words. panic was beginning to win him over - and in a matter of seconds, he lost all his composure « WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU NOT MOVING ? LET’S GO ! » he shouted, already opening the front door. at that moment, one question burned his lips, but he knew he would never have the guts to ask it out loud. 
‘did i kill them ?’
——
the steady beeps of all the machines around you were the only thing disrupting the deafening silence of your hospital room. you were sick of spending your days alone. but you had no right to complain, osamu had offered to come and see you after work every day, but you had politely refused. well, politely was a big word… your body was so exhausted that you had trouble articulating simple phrases, and therefore exclusively communicated through nods or hand gestures.
your phone had been confiscated and the doctors kept you away from the news - or at least from the negative news, because they knew that your heart might give out at the tiniest emotional distress.
which is why you were so surprised to hear a knock on your door at about 3pm, outside of the nurses’ shift hours. knowing that you were too weak to talk, osamu let himself in, slowly closing the door behind him before coming closer to your bed.
« how are you doing ? » he asked, resting his hands on the other end of the bed. you shrugged, pointing at the IV and all the monitoring surrounding you. as long as these machines were there, it was hard to feel better than just ok. « listen, um… someone is here for you. the doctors said i could bring him in, but i wanted your authorization first… » he started before clearing his throat. « atsumu is back. do you- are you ready to see him ? ».
ready was probably not an appropriated word. but after two months spent pretending that he was still laying next to you in bed every night, still texting you good morning every day, still sending you the dumbest memes at the most random times, it would have been a huge mistake to refuse osamu’s proposition.
and so he let him in. obviously, atsumu had orders from the doctors and his brother : don’t run, don’t move too fast, don’t speak too soon, don’t touch them without warning. but nobody had asked him not to cry. and how could his eyes stay dry when you looked so fragile and so vulnerable ?
osamu quietly left the room, leaving the two of you together not without apprehension. but if there was one thing he could trust his brother on, it was taking care of you. two months could not have gotten the better of four years of relationship.
but as much as he cared about you, atsumu had always been - and still was - pretty bad with words. and the first ones that left his mouth were a great example. « are you going to die ? » he asked in a shaky voice, brows knitted.
you would have given him an answer if you had one, but you didn’t. the doctors said that you had gone through the most painful part, but the risks of aggravations were still too important to let you go home. you were not 100% safe yet.
« i told you i’d wait » you spoke in a hoarse voice, the beep of your heart monitor getting a little bit faster.
the steps atsumu took towards you were slow, like he had been told, but just one glance at his eyes was enough to know that deep down, he was dying to feel your skin against his.
« i know you probably hate me right now. and for good reasons » he started as he sat on the chair next to your bed, still painfully avoiding any contact. « but there’s something i need to tell you, in case… in case… well, if something were to happen ».
his eyes lingered on your fingertips, blue and cold, and his whole body tensed at once. the thought that everything you were going through had been caused by his own selfishness was driving him crazy. but he had one last thing to keep himself grounded, and that thing was exactly what he was about to tell you.
« i love you. but i caused you so much trouble that i think there’s only one way to prove it… » he said, taking a deep breath before finally resting a timid hand on your arm. « i want to marry you. right now. i don’t fucking care if it’s not considered official, i just want you to know that leaving you was probably the biggest mistake i ever did. and that i’m not leaving ever again. so fuck it, let’s get married ! you almost died, life’s too short to plan a stupid ceremony ».
he stopped for a few seconds, panting from his teary monologue and paying attention to any beep or other sound that might indicate that he had made things worse for you. but it seemed like you were doing ok. how could you not be ? the love of your life had just proposed to you - sure, it wasn’t how you had imagined it, but wasn’t it even more beautiful like that ?
the tears that started rolling down your cheeks were undoubtedly tears of happiness and relief to know that, finally, your life was back to normal. atsumu was your normality, and for the first time in two months, you finally felt like you had a purpose. you had no idea if soulmates existed, but what you had with atsumu seemed more than close enough.
if someone had entered the room at that moment, it’d probably have taken them several minutes to understand what was going on. two young adults, crying yet smiling, one of them laying on a hospital bed looking like they had been through hell and back, and the other tearing off two pieces of his t-shirt and looking genuinely proud of himself -  nothing about this made sense.
« my apologies, it was the easiest way to make us rings » atsumu chuckled, eyes still blurry as grabbed your hand in his with infinite tenderness. slowly, he tied the piece of cloth around your ring finger, loosely enough so that the doctors would not consider it dangerous for your blood circulation.
« i’m keeping that until you’re getting out of here. by my side. » he affirmed, pointing at his own makeshift ring before looking right into your eyes, as serious as ever. « and i’m also keeping you. forever. consider this my wedding vows »
as much as he hated to phrase it like that, you could both die in peace now.
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i spent so much time on medical sites to be as accurate as i could, i felt like meredith mf grey for a few hours
@toworuu @catwithangerissues
114 notes · View notes
vodkassassin · 4 years
Note
You've been bullying SQH too much, he needs a break! Maybe some cuddles? A vacation? An emotional support animal? All of the above?
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Two of the above, as a treat. Other options to be considered at a later date, perhaps... ;3 @dancibayo
Warnings for injury and near drowning >.>
There is a reason that, way in the beginning of all this peak lord business — before then, in fact, when they were all still just head disciples, brand new to the job and still figuring things out— there is a reason that Shang Qinghua signed the paperwork making Mu Qingfang his mission partner. And only Mu Qingfang.
It wasn’t because Mu Qingfang was the only one out of all of his martial family that Shang Qinghua liked, or could actually deal with… though it was kind of for that reason, but not entirely! The main reason, here, is that Shang Qinghua was not at the time entirely sure how to work with his martial siblings, and when he had tried, it… didn’t really work out.
There are a lot of examples in which missions with a martial sibling other than Mu Qingfang have not worked out, but the paragon amongst them all was that first mission with his fellow head disciple, Liu Qingge. Whenever Shang Qinghua thinks about why Mu Qingfang is his preferred mission partner, that one clusterfuck with Liu-shidi always comes to the forefront of his mind no matter how he wishes he could just forget about it.
A lot of the reason that mission had been such a total failure, in hindsight, really doesn’t have anything to do with Shang Qinghua at all, and a lot to do with the fact that Liu Qingge had, at the time, held such a low opinion of Shang Qinghua that it made working with the man an absolute trial.
In Liu Qingge’s defense, he’s much better nowadays. Like, a lot better. He barely glares at him anymore, even! Well, Liu-shidi glares at everyone, that’s sort of his default expression, but the glare is much less scary when pointed in Shang Qinghua’s direction than it had been even just a year ago! Progress!
Shang Qinghua ducks under the heavy swipe of one colossal, furry paw, complete with wickedly sharp claws that peak out just above the oversized toe-beans, and resists the urge to wail. He yanks out his sword and hops onto it like it’s a snowboard, and directs it into the air with a monumental push of his qi. The claws miss the edge of his robes by mere inches, and Shang Qinghua starts to daydream, a little bit, about what kind of headstone he wants for his memorial.
There’s another big reason, which he’s being reminded of right now, why Shang Qinghua would actually rather be partnered on a mission with anyone other than Liu Qingge.
The man loves monster fighting.
Now, listen. Listen! Shang Qinghua, he is a big fan of the monsters of this world. Mainly because he created most of them himself. They are just as much his beautiful (and sometimes incredibly less-so) babies as the characters he’d spent hours crafting with his words. Seeing them in full-form, brought to very real life in this world that is fashioned after his story is so fucking cool, but also! Actually mainly! Very, very fucking terrifying. Because those things, most of them, can, will, and have certainly tried, many a time in the past, to kill him.
And Liu Qingge’s absolute, favorite pastime is hunting these creatures down and facing off against them, for fun.
So like, sue Shang Qinghua if he can’t really see the appeal.
He’d rather be stuck in his office surrounded by stacks of unfinished paperwork with a deadline, than be dragged out by his martial brother to face another monster. At least then, he would be safe, and not have to deal with nearly being shredded by giant titan tiger claws, thanks!
Unfortunately for Shang Qinghua, ever since Liu Qingge had decided, for some reason that he still couldn’t figure out, that they are friends, he’s been coming to An Ding to regularly kidnap Shang Qinghua and force him out on what the man probably thinks is fun, bonding time between martial brothers or something.
It’s not. It’s not fun. It’s certainly bonding time, perhaps, if only because of the many times Liu Qingge has been forced to come over and save Shang Qinghua’s skin. Then again, Shang Qinghua has also been forced to save Liu Qingge’s skin, through vastly different means than Liu Qingge has saved his, so maybe it is some type of bonding? Experiencing life-threatening situations together is a sure-fire way to form close ties with someone. Like, that’s a legitimate trope. Shang Qinghua has used that one in his own stories many a time before.
So, Liu Qingge might be onto something here. But Shang Qinghua wishes he’d choose some other way to level up their apparent friendship than monster hunting. Can’t they just stay home and have tea? Play some go? Not potentially die?!
“Qinghua!” Liu Qingge calls. He sounds a little exasperated. He’s exasperated, huh? Shang Qinghua is exasperated with this entire trip! “Pay attention!”
Shang Qinghua ducks again, aiming his sword down sharply as his shidi’s sword shrieks by overhead in the spot he’d just been, to parry the monster’s attack with a serious OP swing of the same blade.
It’s really unfair, sometimes, watching how easily powerful his martial family can be. And then there’s Shang Qinghua, who… isn't, really? Just, nowhere near as powerful as the likes of Liu Qingge, or Yue Qingyuan.
Then again, maybe that’s trying to compare 5G internet to dial up? They’re simply in entirely different leagues.
Shang Qinghua’s eyes water as he rockets toward the ground, to where there huddles a cluster of disciples that stare with wide-eyes and awed faces as Liu-shidi does his thing. Their expressions are practically meme-worthy. God, he misses the internet so, so much. He might cry.
Wait, no, he can’t cry right now, the Bai Zhan disciples are right there, and they will make fun of him for it. Absolutely no respect with these kids. Liu-shidi, please teach your peak disciples some manners!
“Shang-shibo,” one of them complains, sword unsheathed entirely and obviously rearing for some action. “Does Shizun — does he want —?”
Shang Qinghua holds up a hand. The disciple falls silent, and the entire group of them watch him like over-eager hawks waiting for their prey to make a mistake. He takes a moment to catch his breath.
“No,” he eventually says, sending a brief glance over his shoulder to where the Bai Zhan peak lord is going head to head with a flying tiger the size of a dragon. “Shizhi, does your Shizun look like he wants help? Does your Shizun ever want help?”
One of the other disciples, a girl this time, bearing biceps that might be bigger than melons, grumbles. “He doesn’t. But why can’t we fight, too? It’s not fair, Shibo!”
“What wouldn’t be fair, is having both your arms ripped off before you can even graduate Jiedan.” Shang Qinghua refutes, and begins to herd the lot of them back toward the tree line so that they are at least out of sight. “This beast is a third-rank Flying Thunder Deity, it is so far out of your league in terms of strength that I’m currently questioning whether we should have brought you all with us on this mission in the first place.”
The disciples look disgruntled.
“But, Shibo—!”
“Nope!” Shang Qinghua holds up a finger and gives them all a stern look. Liu Qingge may not give a fuck whether his disciples remain unscathed or not — honestly, the man likely assumed them to all have fled like smart disciples of their level would, but he obviously greatly underestimated their enthusiasm for a good fight. Which is just incredibly fucking ironic of him. Anyway, no disciple of Cang Qiong sect is going to be in harm's way, if Shang Qinghua has any say about it. “I don’t want to hear it. All of you stay here, if I see a single limb out of these trees, I’ll assign the lot of you as aids to my paper-pushers for three months.”
At their adequately horrified looks, Shang Qinghua decides that his job here is as done as it can be, and so he turns around to peer back out at the currently thunderous (as the name of the beast might suggest) battle currently being waged. If any of the disciples decide to actually take their chances — both at potentially becoming paste on the ground and being stuck helping his disciples with copying out fresh requisition forms, then that’s not exactly his problem, is it? Shang Qinghua tried his best!
He rises up on his sword to where his shidi is fighting the Flying Thunder Deity several hundred feet up in the sky.
Aerial combat has never been Shang Qinghua’s strong suit, and quite honestly it’s neither the strong suit of any other cultivator, strong in battle as Liu-shidi or not. There’s just something about attempting to juggle needing to balance on your soul sword to stay in the air and also needing that same weapon to fight with, that is just altogether difficult.
It’s fifteen minutes of ducking and weaving and praying that he can move just fast as to be an irritating enough pest to the Deity that it turns it’s attention onto Shang Qinghua and consequently gives Liu Qingge the opening he needs, when Shang Qinghua’s hopes come true a little too well.
The thunderous (ha-ha) expression that graces Liu Qingge’s face when the Flying Thunder Deity snaps it’s huge, hulk of heard forward and encloses him in its massive jaws would have been gratifying in literally any other circumstance. Shidi! You do care! Or are you pissed at Shang Qinghua, for being so slow and requiring rescuing yet again? He’s sorry, Liu-shidi, he really is! Next time he would move faster! Or better yet, not come at all! Just as he’d originally begged you, shidi!
Shang Qinghua wishes that people would listen to him more. It would make his life so much less stressful than it is.
“Qinghua!” Liu Qingge shouts, with a tone to it that makes Shang Qinghua’s heart stutter oddly. Or maybe that’s because he’s, you know, currently trapped in the mouth of a vicious monster that probably won’t hesitate to swallow him whole? But, could it be, that Liu-shidi really does care?
Such ponderous thoughts will have to be shelved for now, to be ruminated upon later when he’s safe. For now, Shang Qinghua curls up into a ball, shaking like a leaf, his elbow bouncing off a curving incisor that’s nearly the length of his entire body, and he can’t help but let out a terrified cry.
This is it, isn’t it? Nearly a century of surviving against all odds, making it through perilous situation with no hope after perilous situation, avoiding death flag after death flag, to be eaten by this hungry, flying tiger the size of a small mountain.
Truly, he’s so blessed to be going out with such a bang.
System! Shang Qinghua wails miserably inside his head, a series of loud whimpers bursting from his mouth without his permission. Be useful for once and lend me a scenario pusher!
The cheerful ding that rings throughout his mind is incredibly ignorant of the current circumstances. [Request acknowledged! Please contact customer support to undergo an eligibility survey.]
There is no such thing as customer support, Shang Qinghua knows. He’s neither a customer, nor is he sure that the System actually has any higher power that it answers to. It clearly loves fucking with him, though, and he clenches his jaw and screams through his teeth in frustration as the sharp point of one of those too-close teeth digs viciously into his side.
I don’t have time for that! Fuck! System, please! I don’t want to die! Be nice to me for once in your miserable existence! I deserve it, dammit!
There’s a brief pause, and during it Shang Qinghua thinks he can hear his shidi yelling amongst the sounds of battle.
[... Host’s complaint has been posted and reviewed.] Oh, wow. That’s a first! [Due to Hosts exemplary services rendered, compensation has been rewarded. Would host like to exchange for a scenario pusher?]
Just save me already! Shang Qinghua demands, curling into an even tighter ball. The tooth digs into his flesh painfully, and he bites back a sob.
[Compensation loading…]
The tiger is growling, now. Shang Qinghua can feel the coalescing vibrations of the sound as it emanates from behind him, from deep within the beats chest, rippling sound waves that travel up it’s throat and make him tremble from the force of them alone. His skull is split by a resounding headache, and his vision doubles. It’s like being trapped inside a subwoofer box, and it hurts.
Shang Qinghua is struck rather suddenly by a massive fit of vertigo, as the tiger seems to shake its head in response to whatever attack Liu Qingge is throwing at it. Being inside its mouth, the motion sends the An Ding peak lord sprawling, and he nearly impales himself on one of it’s incisors. Thankfully, being covered in its saliva, though disgusting, seems to be a silver lining of some sort, because he’s by now slippery enough with it that the tooth only deals him a glancing blow. Despite not being as fatal as it could have been otherwise, it still hurts enough, sharply enough, that Shang Qinghua can’t hold back the cry of pain and surprise that escapes him.
The deep vibrations of the growl come to an abrupt halt. Shang Qinghua only has time to hear Liu Qingge make a distant sound of confusion and anger, before he’s unceremoniously spat out into the open air.
It’s a relief! Truly, it is, to be freed of the tight, damp space that was a beast’s hungry maw at long last. However, there’s still a problem! A big one!
Shang Qinghua doesn’t have his sword, and they’re all still hanging out several hundred feet up in the air! By the laws of physics, he has only a brief millisecond to feel any sort of relief before he goes plummeting to his death. He brings up his arms to shield his face from the turbulent air, robes flapping in its vicious currents.
“Qinghua!”
He peeks open eyes that he doesn’t recall closing to find his amazing, beautiful, talented shidi diving down beside him, sword under his feet and hand held outstretched toward him. Shang Qinghua doesn’t have enough air in his life to breath out a sigh of relief as he reaches out for him, ready to cry, because within the very next second he’s ripped away from the help by a big, furry blur that knocks him out of the sky entirely.
He continues to fall for a few long, terrifying seconds, and then he’s fighting to breathe not because the air is moving past him too fast to catch, but because he’s been submerged in water.
He panics, kicking his legs uselessly against the heavy weight of the tide that wraps around him and shoves him roughly to and fro. He’s not entirely certain which way is up and which way is down. His lungs are tight and painful with their pleas for air, and Shang Qinghua can see spots begin to dance before his vision.
Something grabs onto the very back of his robes, then, and he’s dragged out of the water and lands heavily on a patch of what he’s able to eventually identify as grass, once his mind has enough ragged gasps of sweet, sweet oxygen to get itself into working order again.
He rolls himself over and onto his knees, fisting his hands in the grass as he spits out mouthful after mouthful of water. His eyes sting with tears, but thankfully he’s so soaked he doesn’t think they will be all that apparent to anyone who thinks to look at him now. He brings up a hand, to press the back of his fist into his mouth and smother the sob that wants to burst free. He doesn’t really succeed.
There’s an odd sound from nearby, almost like an engine of some sort, which is incredibly confusing because Shang Qinghua hasn’t heard anything of the like since his last life, where the world was much more industrially advanced. There’s a brief moment of confusion, where his mind races in trying to correlate the sound with something that makes more sense, before something big and warm presses against his side and nuzzles heavily into his neck.
Shang Qinghua blinks, dumbly, vision still swimming in such a way that it makes his aching, pounding head revolt in nausea, but after a moment he’s able to turn his head to the side and get a mouthful of fur instead of a visual.
He splutters, reeling back, which of course gives the Flying Thunder Deity, which is no longer flying nor deity-sized, to press forward even more. It knocks the befuddled Shang Qinghua into the grass and clambers over him, purring loudly and aggressively all the while as it nuzzles him and butts it’s head into his again and again.
“Um,” someone says, and Shang Qinghua blearily looks up from the now normal-sized tiger to find a group of disciples staring down at him, looking just as confused as he feels. “Shang-shibo?”
He blinks, head canting toward the side as the Flying Thunder Deity shoves at it with it’s leathery nose. It’s purring so loudly he can feel it in his jaw. “Yes?”
“Would you, uh…” The disciple speaking gestures at him and the tiger. “Would you like help?”
“Hm,” Shang Qinghua considers the offer, laid flat out on the ground as he is while being aggressively cuddled by a suddenly, oddly, terrifyingly over-affectionate tiger that had literally, just a few moments ago, tried to eat him. “.... Hmm.”
“Mwrrrr,” the tiger echoes, long whiskers tickling Shang Qinghua’s face.
“...Shang-shibo?”
“Qinghua!” Ah, look who finally decides to join them!
Liu Qingge barrels to a landing in the grass right beside him and barely has time to yank his sword up from under himself when the newly enamoured tiger jumps to its feet, bristling and hissing like a house cat facing an annoying, yapping dog that’s intruded into their home.
Liu Qingge is very visibly confused at the newest course of events, but there’s still a level of rage that thrums underneath it, and he readies his sword against the Thunder Deity, muscles twitching in anticipation that far exceeds his usual excitement for a fight. For some reason, that Shang Qinghua is currently too dazed to even guess at, it has become personal.
The tiger’s tail flicks, it’s sharp teeth bared as a growl erupts from its throat, and Shang Qinghua apparently had lost all common sense during his fall into the lake, because he props himself up on one elbow and reaches out his hand to curls it into the damp, wet fur around the tiger’s neck.
Immediately, the beast stops growling. It even turns its back to Liu Qingge! In order to plop down into Shang Qinghua’s lap and nuzzle it’s face into his neck, purring once again at full blast. The Bai Zhan disciples that are gathered a few hundred feet away make a series of quietly alarmed sounds. What the fuck! Liu Qingge looks just as confused.
“Qinghua?”
“I don’t know, shidi,” Shang Qinghua says, shrugging. It sends a ripple of pain that spikes in his lower abdomen and winds up his side, and he winces. “Ow.”
“You’re injured,” now Liu Qingge is frowning at him, but he doesn’t move to come any closer. His hand is whit knuckling the hilt of his sword, and he glances between Shang Qinghua and the tiger in open puzzlement.
“Yeah, kinda got impaled on its teeth,” Shang Qinghua replies, and makes a face. “When they were, uh, you know, bigger. Before...”
“It shrunk.” Liu Qingge states, scowling.
As if on cue, there’s a bright flash of light that momentarily blinds him, and the weight in Shang Qinghua’s lap shifts. Once his vision clears, he glances down to find a small, fuzzy little tiger cub gazing up at him with big, round, glistening eyes.
Shang Qinghua stares at it. The cub purrs, much softer than it had in its adolescent form, and gently butts it’s head against his chest, mewling quietly.
Shang Qinghua tears up. He can’t help it. He struggles to sit up, gathering the cub into his arms as he goes, and holds it against his chest. It’s fuzzy little ears perk up, tickling against his collar bone, and Shang Qinghua swallows.
Liu Qingge stares, as well, about as absolutely befuddled as the rest of them. After a moment, though, his face clears of its confusion, as if he’s decided to simply discard it, and he gives a shrug, hefting his sword arm up a bit and taking a step forward.
Shang Qinghua startles, scooting back a bit even though it pulls at his injury. “Shidi?!”
“It will be easier to kill, like this.” Liu Qingge says, nonchalant.
Shang Qinghua clutched the tiny, purring little tiger to his chest, aghast. “Shidi, no! It’s a baby!”
“It’s not,” Liu Qingge frowns at him. He points at the cub, who continues in its mission to aggressively cuddle the An Ding lord. “It’s a fully grown adult Flying Thunder Deity. It can just change its size.”
Shang Qinghua pauses. He pulls the still-purring cub away from his chest and holds it up to his eye-level.
“You tried to eat me,” he accuses.
The tiger cub blinks once, slowly, and lets out a tiny mewl in response.
“....” Shang Qinghua wraps his arms around the tiny thing and cuddles it to his chest. “I forgive you!”
“Shang Qinghua,” Liu Qingge exclaims, exasperated. Which! Not fair! Shang Qinghua wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him! So really, this is all Liu-shidi’s fault to begin with!
He tells him as such, and Liu Qingge scowls grumpily one response.
Shang Qinghua stands to his feet. And immediately tilts to the side. Liu Qingge steps forward, sword sheathed, to catch him around the waist, and the tiger gives a startled meow as it’s suddenly squished between the two of them.
Both men stare down at it. It blinks up at them for a moment, before turning to nuzzle it’s face into the dampened collar of Shang Qinghua’s robes, closing its eyes as if it's decided to take a nap then and there.
“You can’t tell me you’re going to kill it,” Shang Qinghua says. His words are beginning to slur together. “It’s too cute, Qingge!”
Liu Qingge tenses slightly at his given name, as he always seems to do when Shang Qinghua uses it. If he didn’t want him saying it, he shouldn’t have given him permission in the first place! After a moment, the man relaxes, and something about his face is… not as fierce, somehow.
Shang Qinghua doesn’t know what that means.
“You’re soaked,” Liu Qingge says. “... And injured.”
“Impaled,” Shang Qinghua reminds him, blinking his eyes slowly. They feel a little heavy. Maybe the tiger had the right idea of a nap. “Almost drowned.”
Liu Qingge frowns at the reminder. He stoops down after a moment and scoops up Shang Qinghua’s legs. Normally, he would protest being bridal carried like some maiden, but right now he’s way too tired. He rests his head against Liu Qingge’s shoulder, the tiger purring sleepily on his stomach, and closes his eyes.
There’s a quiet cough. “Shizun.” One of the disciples speaks. They sound embarrassed, for some reason?
“We’re heading back to the sect.” Liu Qingge announces.
“The, ah… the tiger?”
There’s a long moment of thoughtful silence. Then, “It’s your Shibo’s.”
“Ah…. okay….”
Shang Qinghua turns his face into his shidi’s collar and falls into a doze.
164 notes · View notes
sweettodo · 4 years
Text
Lady Boss ⟿ Levi Ackerman x reader
Vanilla, somewhat of a quicky, consensual, office fucking, boss.
1,722 words
Strutting down the halls with the upmost frustration, blood boiling, your veins pulsating through your angry fists. You couldn’t fathom how you were getting blamed for something you didn’t do.
Being the ‘mistress’ or in other words overseer for these excuses of men who all thought they deserved to be at a higher- scratch that; they were too fucking stupid to be as good as me.
So what if my brother - Jean, put me in the position I’m in today, but he didn’t just let me sit on my high horse, I needed to do work. ‘Who’d she sleep with to get that promotion?’
SMACK!
“That’s what you get for being a fucking peon. Go make yourself useful like cleaning the bottom of my feet.” The group of men cease speaking. You shake off your hand, you were not afraid to discipline these fuckups.
“So-”
“Sorry what was that? Speak up!” I shout. They sigh in defeat. ‘Someone put her in a mood today’ they simultaneously think in their heads. They hated your attitude, especially on these days.
“Sorry...damn.” That’s right, you thought to yourself, you let out a sigh and continue walking quickly down the large hallway of offices, our ... business was more or less a money laundering business, we were discreet and powerful. We racked in tons of cash and had plenty of allies.
You reach the large double door, slamming your fist against them a few times, you tapped your foot in anticipation.
“Well if it isn’t the biggest fuckup of the day, actually; month.” Chairman Levi scoffs, slowly letting you into the office. He moves back to his desk and you slam the door.
“You act like this was my fault. Your men are fucking stupid.”
“Your men actually, fun fact, you’re in charge of them. Therefore my hands are clean of this mess.”
“You act like I can babysit 25 men to hold a few wads of cash.” You snort, slamming paperwork onto his desk.
“And I’ll say it again, it is not my problem.” He crosses his arms, his body leaning against the windowsill, he was too cocky. You hated him, but you knew you needed to get out of this.
“It was actually twenty five thousand... hey, what do you think you’re in here for? To yell at me for your wrongdoings? I should demote you. I might as well make that call now-”
“Wait- uh.” I didn’t think before speaking, sounding weak on the spot, he stuffs his phone back in his slacks.
“How do you intend on fixing this mess?” He stands, slowly unbuttoning his black blazer, he was so toned.
“I’m a smart woman; I’ll figure this out without your input thank you.” Such a nasty attitude, on days where you two could cut the tension with a knife, days like this where his disgust towards you strengthened. How your hateful words spewed from your mouth. You’re a woman for god’s sake, act like it.
He drops his blazer so it hangs off his chair, he wanted you to feel intimidated of what he could do to you at anytime.
“Here’s the deal-” his finger points at you lazily and it taunts you, he drops his crossed arm stance and sits in his tall leather chair, “you can come here and I’ll help you, or I’ll let Jean now how much of an incompetent bitch you are, your choice.”
You pondered, you could possible wiggle your way out of Jean finding out; Levi reaches for the desk phone and begins dialing Jeans extension to his office, your heart drops, I quickly move towards him and grab his wrist and the neck of the phone, hanging it up before it could ring.
“See, you are a smart girl, I love it when you actually listen to me.” He chuckles, I mock him and wait to be dismissed, “take that off.”
What? What the fuck was he doing, your mouth drops open in utter shock, it was a mix of a dream come true and something ripped out of an erotic novel.
“Take what off?-”
“Your shirt.” He says matter of factly, the lump in your throat freezes while he does it himself, tired of him waiting for you to strip and get down on your knees.
Painfully, he looks down at you while he unbuttons each and every blouse button, your heart pounded; he was not close enough. You shoved the dirty thoughts to the back of your head, you needed to regain power.
“What are you going to do for me Mr. Ackerman?” You hold back his hands, he smirks.
“I’ll loan you the twenty five, you just gotta remember to pay me back babe.” ‘Oh fuck yes’ you secretly became excited to his words, this meant no Jean.
You shrug off your blouse, revealing the pinkish-nude lace bra you had on, he stares in awe at your perky boobs, they sat so nice. Countless thoughts ran his head, labeling every part of your body... ‘I’ll do this, and this’
“Liking what you see Lev-”
“You think just because I’m going to fuck you; that you can call me by my first name?”
“Sorry sir.” He turned you around, forcibly holding down the side of your head against the cold desk while he took his time once again, staring at every part of your body, he was in fucking love.
His body hot, you wanted to stand up and rip his clothes off him like the feral slut you were for him. You wanted to be his little toy, do whatever you want to me sir.
“You should keep wearing skirts to work, easy access.” He rubs your butt with his tough hands, he pushes up your skirt and the matching panties gave it away.
“Sir, let me help you.” You stand quickly and he takes a tiny step back, allowing you to speedily unbutton and you practically rip it off him, god he was so incredibly sculpted. As they say, god spent extra time on this one.
“Stop drooling,” you snap out of your trance and fiddle with his belt, unhooking it. He throbbed, his meme er begged to be fucked by you and Levi was too excited to see you.. and hear you, and taste you.
He doesn’t allow you to drop to your knees, ‘you’re too good for that’ he told himself, he wanted to see you fall apart beneath him.
“Just hurry up and fuck me then.” His eyes widen, his smirk grows as he pushes you back over onto the desk, bending you in half while he quickly moved your panties to the side. He was about to indulge.
You let out a squeal the moment he pushes himself into you, you sucked him in, he knew it was all too dangerous to fuck you now, you were going to have him pussy whipped.
It seems as if he has more and more to stuff you with; reaching spots previous men couldn’t reach, surpassing all nerves that you even knew existed.
“Wow- Sir.” You’re taken aback, you gasp when his hips finally clap against your ass and thighs, he was in all the way, you were fucking stuffed.
Swears fly from Levi’s mouth as he takes time with the first few thrusts, pumping out and back in; in and out in and out.
“I could be in this pussy ass day, my god, you’re clenching so hard.” He groans, he picks up the pace as he pulls apart your ass cheeks to fill you up as much as possible. Your spongey walls contacted and gushed around his big cock while your eyes rolled tot he back of your head in complete pleasure.
“Hmm it feels so good sir, please keep fucking me like this, I need it.” You moan, he follows your orders, he needed to move your position, he needed easier access to this goddess of a body, goddess of a pussy.
You both went into the office separate days of the week, rarely seeing each other.
“You know-” Levi pounds into you, “if our deal upholds, I need to be able to fuck you anytime I want.” His breathing ragged.
“Yes sir I understand.” You moan, mouth jammed open, your legs slowly wanting to give out as he takes you to different heights, this was gonna be a earth shattering orgasm.
He bit onto his bottom lip to stop himself from sounding like a moaning mess under your spell, you were dripping wet, it felt like a palace between your walls, silk sheets, sliding in and out, not easily. You were so tight he didn’t know what to do with you.
“S-sir I’m about to come.” You whine, pushing yourself against his cock, he lets out a tense breath of air, not expecting you to do the work for him.
“Then come.” Levi grabs the other hip, kicking apart your legs further and fucking you senselessly, you were a drooling mess.
Your body contacts once again, he slows down slightly while still fucking you hard with those powerful thrusts. You cream all over his dick, he’s starstruck by feeling those spasms and seeing your helpless body grasp behind her onto your wrist, it was enough to send you flying over the edge.
You release your seed into her, holding still for a few moments and pulling out making sure it seeps into every crevice in her pussy. Seeing both her and your come drip from her beautiful cat. It was a sight to see alright.
Levi’s muscles are weak, he needs to catch his breath, sit down. You wore him out so good just from those ten minutes of him tearing you apart. The same goes for you, you relax your body and breathe heavily whilst slowly picking up your panties from your ankles and pulling them up, tugging down your skirt and trying to limit your leg movement, afraid of not being able to walk.
You two stood in silence, redressing and regaining composure, “you have a very nice dick sir.” You purr in his ear, he thinks about other things to prevent him from getting hard again.
Glancing at his watch, he knows he’s off the clock, “come on, you’re coming home with me.” He grabs his belongings and you do the same. You were absolutely thrilled.
“Yes boss.” Giggling, you follow behind him closely, halls empty so no one would suspect a thing.
103 notes · View notes
melatovnik · 3 years
Note
ok ur top faves wangxian fics go
hey yati! 🥰️
alright, so first things first, here’s a big wangxian fic rec list i made a while ago, if you wanna check that one out too! consider the list below part 2. these are all my faves so far since my last rec list (as you'll quickly see, i have a LOT of faves).
and just a fyi/psa/disclaimer for anyone reading this: some of these fics have disturbing themes and/or kinky/freaky sex! make sure to check the authors’ tags and notes before reading. also, much like my first rec list, there’s going to be a mix of mdzs and cql canon, characterizations, dynamics, etc., so bear that in mind.
....ok GO
live from new york by varnes | rated E | 87K words | THE snl au fic!!!! yes, by snl i mean saturday night live. this is perhaps the best and funniest story i've ever read, period. varnes is a fucking genius. read this fic.
Wei Ying lets out a long, ugly groan. “I am fine, Lan Zhan. Everybody is overreacting, it’s so embarrassing for all of you.”
“You had undiagnosed pneumonia, which you walked around with for weeks until you passed out during dress,” Lan Wangji corrects him. “It got a big laugh, until everyone thought you were dead.”
He keeps his voice even and does not tell Wei Ying that it had been Lan Wangji who caught him, who called the ambulance, and who rode with him to the hospital, where he was yelled at by nurses who wanted to know why he hadn’t noticed that Wei Ying couldn’t stop shivering or string proper sentences together.
“Rumors of my demise have been vastly overstated,” Wei Ying says. “Anyway, I’m already feeling much better. Basically fine. Really almost completely back to normal, so stop babying me and tell me why the fuck you let your stupid brother hire the worst man in the world to host our show.”
-
OR: the one where they all work at SNL, Yanli's ex-boyfriend is hosting, and that's just the beginning of everybody's problems.
swiss cheese theory by varnes | rated M | 19K words | sequel to snl au fic!!!!!! another must-read.
The Swiss Cheese model of accident causation likens human system defences to a series of slices of randomly-holed Swiss Cheese arranged vertically and parallel to each other with gaps in-between each slice. Defences against failure are modelled as a series of barriers, represented as slices of the cheese. The holes in the cheese slices represent individual weaknesses in individual parts of the system. The system as a whole produces failures when holes in all of the slices momentarily align, permitting "a trajectory of accident opportunity," so that a hazard passes through holes in all of the defences, leading to an accident.
OR: Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian go to the courthouse.
OR: “Sweethearts,” the city clerk had said, very gently, “you’re already married.”
best friends forever by varnes | rated T | 17K words | alright, so like, strictly speaking, wangxian isn't the focus of this fic, BUT. this fic is so good!! it is seriously so good, and it made me fall in love with jin ling/lan jingyi. also, it's varnes, so read it!
It happened like this: Jin Ling was a sect leader now, which was, and Jingyi really meant this, fucking hilarious. There were few things funnier, in his honest opinion.
Because he was young, and inexperienced, and also — it had to be said — a real shithead, there was apparently some belief amongst his advisors that the best way forward, to promote the picture of a stable, mature sect leader who absolutely did not cry at the drop of a hat, was for Jin Ling to get married.
-
OR: Jin Ling and Jingyi get engaged.
Things spiral from there.
For a Good Time, Call by ScarlettStorm | rated E | 171K words
The picture is of Wei Ying, that much is clear. It’s of a lot more of Wei Ying than Lan Zhan is used to seeing. He supposes that, technically, Wei Ying is dressed. It’s a bare technicality, since one of Wei Ying’s hands has rucked up his black tank top practically to his collarbone, showing a long expanse of abdomen and one nipple. Sweat beads on his sternum, catching the light like jewels. His other hand is--Lan Zhan feels his eyes widen, as though unable to look away from a train wreck--on his hip, one thumb tugging down the waistband of a pair of red briefs. Wei Ying is biting his lower lip and looking directly into the camera, sultry, his eyes dark and inviting. His erection is obvious, outlined against the red of the briefs and framed carefully with the hand on his hip. Lan Zhan’s brain goes wildly, screamingly blank.
Or: Lan Zhan accidentally finds his best friend's OnlyFans account and has an ongoing emotional crisis.
love, in fire and blood by cicer | rated E | 360K words | i actually haven't finished this one since i was reading it when it was a WIP, i need to reread it and catch up fjdskl;fjsd, but i love it very much!!!!!! oh my god he wanted to look nice for his husband..... 🙃 [screams with mouth closed]
"You want Wen Ruohan dead," the Patriarch continued idly. "You want his corpse puppets eliminated. You want his halls burned to the ground and his soldiers disemboweled and begging for mercy. Have I about covered it?"
He gave another knife-edged smile.
"But what will you give me in return?"
"We would be willing to offer quite a bit in return for Wen Ruohan's defeat," Lan Xichen admitted. "But I'm afraid we don't know what an immortal such as yourself desires. Please advise us."
The Patriarch waved at hand at the front of the tent. "I want Second Young Master Lan."
(In which the Sunshot Campaign ends through an arranged marriage to the Yiling Patriarch, and Lan Wangji suffers the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with his own husband.)
how to fall in love with a catfish: a guide by wei wuxian (disaster rat) by bwyn & Yuisaki | rated T | 55K words
A new plan hatches in Wei Wuxian’s head. If this nocturnal, bottom-feeding, slimy, invasive mudcat posing as a beautiful actor thinks he can sway Wei Wuxian with animal pictures and a sob story and an unbelievably stilted way of texting with still no dick pictures in the first five minutes of conversation, he has another thing coming. Wei Wuxian’s got it, alright, he has this in the fucking bag.
~
Wei Wuxian plots to expose a catfish using strategic memes and turtle pictures while wiggling his way out of family dinner. Lan Wangji just wants companions.
there’s no promised goodbye here by Yuisaki | rated T | 54K words
Jiang Cheng stares at him. “Didn’t you say you broke up five months ago?”
“Yeah.”
“So why do you have a picture of you two kissing taped to your fridge?”
“Because we’re too broke for magnets,” Wei Wuxian explains, then considers that statement. “Well, I’m too broke for magnets. Lan Zhan probably refuses to buy them because he’s trying to have lofty ideas about the moral failings of materialism.”
~
Wei Wuxian navigates the trials of living with his ex-boyfriend in apartment 1301.
paint smears on sunny days by SnowshadowAO3 | rated E | 54K words
To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.
He comes close, though.
By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.
What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.
“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”
Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.
(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)
a paper friend by sunzu | rated G | 5K words
Lan Wangji finds a paperman far from its body and helps get it home.
-Or-
Lan Wangji unknowingly meets Wei Wuxian for the first time.
All Caught Up by brooklinegirl | rated E | 37K words
"Betrothed," Wei Ying says indignantly.
Lan Wangji can't stop his gaze from darting up to him. Wei Ying understands. Wei Ying is looking at him, wide-eyed and upset on his behalf.
"And you don't even like her," Wei Ying says.
"I don't even know her," Lan Wangji says quietly.
"But even if you did—" Wei Ying starts.
"I wouldn't want this," Lan Wangji finishes.
Lead Me On Through by mrsronweasley | rated E | 55K words | oh look another canon-era practice kissing fic fjdskfl;ds
"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.
"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.
"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."
I Started From the Bottom/And Now I'm Rich by x_los | rated E | 58K words | ok so i know that in my spiel above i said to mind the tags, etc., but actually pay no mind to the first two relationship tags for this fic. i PROMISE that this isn't that sort of dead dove fic fjdksl;fjs;lifkj. i. it. it's wangxian. don't sweat it. don't even trip. just—this fic fucking rules. it's completely insane and it slaps. wei ying is a girlboss and a bitch and i like her So Much
“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”
Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.
Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.
rather cruelly used and rather reserved by x_los | rated M | 14K words
In the month between Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian leaving Yi City and their attending the cultivation conference in Lanling, Wei Wuxian discovers a locked room in the Jingshi. It is a mystery that clever and curious Wei Wuxian is doing everything in his power to avoid solving.
But the rose was awake all night for your sake/Knowing your promise to me by x_los | rated E | 8K words | resentment tenties~
The resentful energy occupying Wei Wuxian's body like an enemy army is very interested in giving him Lan Wangji, tied up with a bow.
Wei Wuxian is hoping that Lan Wangji (who is far too noble and very keen to save Wei Wuxian's misguided soul) doesn't find out about any aspect of that.
Mo Money, Mo Problems by x_los | rated M | 3K words
After the Mo family perishes in distressing and mysterious circumstances, Wei Wuxian, still reeling from his reincarnation, tries to dip back into their manor for a little travelling money. (Forward planning! What a concept!) Lan Wangji catches him immediately, and is highly unimpressed (read: furious) with Wei Wuxian’s decision to run away from him in the first place.
Standing Engagement by x_los | rated M | 18K words
Lan Wangji believes he and Wei Wuxian are essentially engaged. While they search for his missing betrothed, he accidentally reveals as much to Jiang Wanyin. Now everyone in the cultivation world knows about the imminent marriage, except for Wei Wuxian himself.
Coming Back to Yourself by acernor | rated E | 22K words | genital swapping for fun and nonprofit!
Lan Wangji gets cursed with a ~woman's body~ and has to orgasm to go back. Since he's 1) a virgin 2) super repressed and 3) SUPER gay, he has no idea what to do.
If only he had a super nosy friend who's read lots of erotic novels who could help him figure out what to do... hm...
Save a Sword by etymologyplayground | rated E | 5K words | a fic inspired by the above fic!
Lan WangJi presses a kiss into his throat, which draws a shivering whine from him. "Like this," he agrees, his voice so low. Then he slides one warm elegant hand down Wei WuXian's chest to his belly, and then to his — to his —
--
fan ending for acernor's fabulous masterpiece "coming back to yourself" because i'm a huge goofball and that fic fucks
Our Eyes on the Road by etymologyplayground | rated E | 23K words | brought to you by lore (the author) and Orville Peck's hit song Drive Me, Crazy
Lan Zhan is silent for a long moment, and the van's speakers quietly pipe the second song on the album into the empty space between them. Then Lan Zhan shifts his hand a little on Wei Ying's leg, presses his fingers once into the meat of his thigh. "Alright," he says.
"Alright," Wei Ying echoes in a wheeze.
"Is that better?" Lan Zhan checks, because he is a good boy. Then he spreads his fingers out a little wider, because he is evil and must be stopped.
-
Lan Zhan is driving to Chicago. Wei Ying tags along.
Worship you till morning comes by feyburner | rated E | 7K words
A meet-cute, a first date, a sleepover.
Let's take a ride round the curves of desire by feyburner | rated E | 6K words | yeah........... uhh, yeah.
Wei Ying was sprawled on the floor in front of the oscillating fan when Lan Zhan got home from work.
The Roots Grow Riotous by hansbekhart | rated E | 105K words | a beautifully crafted, emotionally harrowing fic. i should warn you (since it's not quite tagged as such) that while wangxian is endgame, the overall story doesn't have the sort of happily-ever-after ending you might expect. i’ve seen it described as open-ended but hopeful and cathartic, which i find to be a pretty accurate assessment
Sometimes Lan Zhan doesn’t work through lunch. Sometimes he makes conversation with coworkers in the halls. Sometimes he goes home instead of spending the last hour trawling through Grindr. But mostly, that’s exactly what he does. The sameness is comforting. His life spools out in easily measured increments: capsule collections, yards of hand dyed textiles, ninety day lead times, sell through figures, cost of goods sold.
Every date in manufacturing can be calculated backwards and forward from a single horizon point: the date that the goods must arrive into the country where they'll be sold. Other than that, nothing else really matters.
总有一天; a place to hide (can’t find one near) by yiqie | rated E | 76K words | i can't recall a fic ever affecting me as much as this one did. one of the best stories i've ever read. so, so, so crushingly beautiful. it's viscerally distressing/upsetting at times, especially at the start, so please heed the tags and author's note (they provide a way to skip the beginning scene if needed)!
That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Wei Ying feels nothing. He doesn’t feel anything, and this emptiness should scare him. He knows he should be scared. He wants to be scared. He isn’t. Fear itself is never scary; fear is just a response. It means that your body wants you alive. It’s the absence of terror that scares him.
请兔子吃晚饭; treating a bunny to dinner by yiqie | rated T | 3K words | read this one to recover from the above fic
It’s not really about the food. Being able to share it in the same space is its own kind of magic.
爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie | rated E | 69K words | and then read this one to feel harrowed again, this time in canon-verse!
Wei Wuxian has certainly hoped so ardently in his two lifetimes, for so many different things, in so many different ways, that he could have summoned the demon to his front door with his bare hands. His eyes wander to Lan Zhan, settle on the back of his head, the blue-black curtain of his hair. Oh, how he has hoped.
在此恭迎夷陵老祖; to yiling laozu, the great and venerable by yiqie | rated M | 7K words | read this one to recover from the above fic (this time in canon-verse)
“You don’t know? In Yiling, there’s a tree at the edge of town, one that stands at the fringes of where the city ends and the Burial Mounds begin, called the Lover’s Tree. They say if you write a letter and nail it to its branches, Yiling Laozu will receive it, and he’ll reply.”
你的阳光下; wanna hide in your light by yiqie | rated T | 2K words | :')
Lan Zhan shuts off the water before it can start getting cold, because Wei Ying still needs to take one. Any other day, Wei Ying would have slunk in, pretending to be annoyed that Lan Zhan started without him, and neither of them would have want for hot water, but Wei Ying is still asleep.
From my heart's ground. by orange_crushed | rated E | 38K words | get (orange) CRUSHED!!!!!!!
After a while he can feel a palm against his face, gentle fingers soft and soothing. It’s not real, not exactly: he can tell the difference between a ghost’s touch and a living person’s, between a spirit-vision and an overactive imagination. His education has been thorough. But the beating has also been thorough, so for now he forgets what he knows and leans into it, into the hand cupping his cheek. It’s soft and dry as those forgotten petals, as the touch of a pillow. He can smell wildflowers, can taste blood and dirt. My baby, his mother says, and he closes his eyes. My treasure. He barely remembers the sound of her voice, but the feeling of it is just the same. Just the same as ever.
[In which Lan Wangji loses almost everything, plants a garden, and grows a second chance.]
Pentimento. by orange_crushed | rated E | 73K words | this fic briefly gave me a serious case of career envy :/ ......but seriously, this is an absolute must-read!!!
When Wangji was eighteen he’d walked into the first class of his fall semester painting module and there’d been a boy in a hilariously ugly floppy knit hat sitting cross-legged on the floor at the front of the room. He’d had a sheet of canvas paper taped to his board and his board clamped between his legs and a tackle box of brushes and tubes—a real fishing tackle box, with a fish-shaped logo on it that said BASS, not one of the nice art supply storage boxes they sold in the campus bookstore, like the one Wangji was carrying—open beside him. Everyone else had settled into the rows of stools and easels, but that boy had stayed on the floor for the whole two hour and thirty minute studio. Wangji had looked at him and thought, that idiot’s back is going to hurt.
[Former best friends Lan Wangji, paintings conservator, and Wei Wuxian, art handler, meet again and realize... neither of them were actually in unrequited love.]
Many happy returns. by orange_crushed | rated E | 25K words
His fingers are still clasped between Wangji's. In the mirror Wangji watches him tuck his coat between his thighs so that he can fuss with the tucked-in hem of his shirt, tousle up the side of his hair, all one-handed. "I hope what I'm wearing is okay."
"It's good," Wangji says. "You look good."
"I guess I must," Wei Ying says, and then he smiles and bites his teeth into his bottom lip for a second, devastatingly, and before Wangji can drop dead the doors to the elevator slide open, and the hostess station appears.
[In which lonely businessman Lan Wangji meets the right wrong person and changes the course of his life.]
The dreamers. by orange_crushed | rated E | 17K words
“Stop mothering me,” Wei Ying protests. “Why don’t you ever listen?” He scowls at Wangji, but then the lure of the clean water is too much; he sits grumbling and strips off his vambraces and loosens the collar of his robes and wipes himself down in the steam. Wangji sits on a stool and watches him, and after a while Wei Ying slaps the rag into the bowl and glares back. “Are you going to sit and stare the whole time?” he demands. “You want to see me strip naked and give my filthy evil self a good scrubbing, huh?”
Yes, Wangji thinks.
[This is a story about a horrible war and a beautiful dream; about grabbing happiness where you can find it, and not letting go.]
mercy, tear it down. by orange_crushed | rated E | 31K words
“You want me to call you good?” Wangji says. “To make you feel good?” Wei Ying makes a wretched, soft, surprised sound in the back of his throat. “Then will you be good?”
“Uh,” Wei Ying says. His lashes flick down again, nervously. “Good how?”
Wangji hasn’t quite thought that far ahead.
Kingfisher Feathers by Anonymous | rated E | 83K words | WIP (7/10 chapters, last updated 4/13/21) | omg omegaverse!!!! @/ this anon author... keep up the great work! also i have feelings for u
With an almost trance-like detachment, Wei Wuxian touched his own neck, his fingers skimming over the fresh mark. The bite wound had stopped bleeding, although he had no doubts it would open again if agitated.
Bonded.
He was bonded for life.
"Shit," he whispered. He looked over at the sleeping form of Lan Wangji—the Second Prince of Gusu and, until his brother was found, the sole heir to the throne. "Oh, shit. Lan Qiren is going to kill me."
----------
Lan Wangji goes into a fevered rut and accidentally bonds with Wei Wuxian. When they next meet, he remembers none of it, and Wei Wuxian is determined to keep the bond a secret—even when he's sent to the Cloud Recesses to be a consort in Lan Wangji's harem.
(tl;dr concubine!wwx is already married to emperor!lwj, who has no idea. drama ensues.)
Pull out game weak by 74243 | rated E | 23K words | featuring the hottest meanest dom top lesbian lwj of your wildest dreams. i hope ao3 user 74243 is having an amazing day
Wei Ying swipes right.
Extra Time by Anonymous | rated E | 28K words | fic inspired by the above fic! seriously good
How Wei Ying learned to stop worrying and love the strap (an AU of 74243's Pull out game weak)
Superfan by 74243 | rated E | 19K words | ao3 user 74243 writing banger after banger as per usual
“I’m not going to apologize for my job,” Wei Ying said, “so if you want to give me some kind of lecture--”
“No,” Lan Zhan said. “You misunderstood. I am...” she paused, as if considering the best way to put it. “I’m a fan.”
Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes by 74243 | rated E | 7K works | i'm just going to list all of ao3 user 74243's fics, ok? that's what's gonna happen here
Wei Wuxian was a little surprised herself, although she felt bad for being surprised. Of course it didn’t really mean anything about you, how you presented, Wei Wuxian knew that better than anyone, but all the same it was hard to reconcile Lan Zhan as an omega.
(wwx makes an error of judgment)
If the shoe fits by 74243 | rated E | 8K words
Wei Ying loses a bet.
the And they were roommates series by 74243 | rated E | 19K words total
That was the other thing, when Wei Ying had moved in. She’d scented Lan Zhan immediately, the sandalwood and smoke rising off her, almost before she’d taken in Lan Zhan’s straight posture, her narrowed eyes. She’d known that Lan Zhan could tell, too. At the end, when they’d talked about the rent and Lan Zhan’s nearly finished PhD and Wei Ying’s working hours, Wei Ying had said, casual and effortless, “And you don’t mind that I’m an omega.”
“No,” Lan Zhan said.
Chef's kiss by 74243 | rated E | 7K words
Wei Ying said, “You know, in some ways I’m kind of depressed. I took your biggest dick on my first try. Now I don’t have anything to build up to.”
“There are bigger ones available,” Lan Zhan said lazily. “I can pay for express shipping.”
(Lan Zhan works the late shift.)
Gold-palmed Warrior Quest! by 74243 | rated E | 13K words
When Lan Wangji suggested that they camp along the way to the Unclean Realm, rather than staying at inns, Wei Wuxian had been sceptical.
Dway! by 74243 | rated E | 6K words
“Hm,” Wei Ying said. “You like it rough, though, right? You seem like that kind of alpha.” When she saw Lan Zhan’s expression she raised an eyebrow. “What? Was I wrong? Are you tender and sweet? Do you cry?”
“You were not wrong,” Lan Zhan said. “I do not cry. Do you?”
tgif by 74243 | rated E | 17K words
Today Lan Zhan says that if Wei Ying cannot control her mouth then she will have to tape it shut.
On the ground by 74243 | rated E | 5K words
“I think you will like it,” Lan Zhan said.
Does your mother know by 74243 | rated E | 5K words | editing this rec list on a monday morning to add this brand new fic fresh off the presses. thank u ao3 user 74243 for feeding us so well 🙏
“Lan Zhan is such a well-behaved girl,” Madam Yu said.
all that and more by Euphorion | rated E | 20K words
Wei Wuxian locks his phone and puts it down, blinks at his ceiling, and picks it up again. The pictures are still there.
His first thought is that Lan Zhan meant them for someone else. That he just woke up at—he checks the timestamp—6:30 am on a Sunday and decided to go absolute full nuclear seduction option on some poor boy he met on Grindr, who would now be missing out on the best thing to ever happen to him because Wei Wuxian had a bad habit of distracting—of—oh.
Pieces of last night start to resurface and paste themselves together in his head. He winces.
The Golden Cutsleeve by syrus_jones | rated E | 77K words | of my faves, this is one of my favorite... faves. top faves. incredibly fun and silly and hot. just... oh my GOD, wei YING!
“I know! Why don’t you try it? Let me go and I’ll lend it to you!” Wei Wuxian bribed hysterically, desperate to escape from this encounter by any means necessary. And then, his eyes blew wide, realizing what he just said. ‘Wait— just what am I offering Lan Zhan?!’ he thought. How was he so stupid, how did he just offer that without thinking—
“You want me...to use it… after you?” Lan Zhan asked, his voice unusually faint.
~*~
Wei Wuxian's test of mysterious, literally magical sex toy goes awry when Lan Wangji finds him in the woods 'experimenting' with it and it ends up in Lan Wangji's possession.
Unfortunately, neither of them is aware that the toy is anchored to Wei Wuxian's body. Too bad Wei Wuxian invited him to try it.
Boy Trouble, We've Got Double by saltyfeathers | rated E | 60K words | !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is a really good fic
Lan Zhan stands there in his immaculate, cloud-patterned Lan robes, watching him calmly, one fist tucked up against his back. “I am betrothed.”
Wei Wuxian blinks. “Are you…” He tries to laugh. Again, it sounds inhuman. “Is this about last night? Are you mad at me? I only remember some of it, Lan Zhan. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I’m sure whatever I did I was just—” He gestures uselessly. He remembers being warm in Lan Zhan’s lap. He remembers fitting snugly in Lan Zhan’s lap. Wrapping his arms around Lan Zhan’s neck. Nosing at his jaw. “…playing around.”
“This has nothing to do with you, Wei Wuxian.”
none in the forest so bright as these by saltyfeathers | rated E | 6K words
Wei Wuxian puts a hand to his head, brain lost in fog. “Lan Zhan,” he pants. “Why are we here? Are we on a hunt?”
As Lan Zhan tries to remember, his brow furrows. He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.”
“This is bad,” Wei Wuxian says. When Lan Zhan cups his cheek again, sparks burst behind Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “Or maybe it’s not,” he says unthinkingly. Sighs, almost. Lan Zhan looks at his own arm like it's betrayed him. Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and presses his face into Lan Zhan’s palm. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” he murmurs. “What’s happening to us?”
out in the garden, there’s things you hid away by saltyfeathers | rated E | 121K words | oww oww oww 😣😣😣💘
There is a man with empty eye sockets and tears of fire in Wei Wuxian’s dreams. Tendrils of smoke curl around him in sleep, pressing at his most vulnerable spots, seeking entrance, slipping between his ribs.
When he ignores Lan Zhan's offers of help, he declines rapidly. He will die. Or, he should. Anyone else would.
Instead, he flees. And transforms.
crawling through your door by saltyfeathers | rated E | 12K words
Lan Wangji kisses him. When he pulls away, he speaks into the silence between them, because when he is with Wei Ying, he so rarely considers. “Why don’t you touch me anymore?”
Lan Zhan Works for the Historical Society by saltyfeathers | rated E | 7K words | some real real good lesbian action up in here
Pretty Lan Zhan. Beautiful Lan Zhan. Ice queen Lan Zhan. So intimidating and femme and coldly polite in public, yet meaner than a man in the bedroom. Wei Ying has slept with men before and none of them were mean-nice to her like Lan Zhan.
threadfic by saltyfeathers | not rated (each chapter rated/tagged individually) | 34K+ words | WIP (11/? chapters, last updated 3/15/21), but it’s a collection of stand-alone oneshots
semi cleaned-up wangxian twitter threadfic.
【已經打動我的心】So Sing To Me All Night by aroceu | rated T | 10K words | arrow writes wei ying so exquisitely well. i was weepy the whole time read this fic. for the best experience, i recommend following along with the accompanying spotify playlist.
No one listens to the radio in this day and age, but somehow from a bunch of left clicking and right clicking, through Facebook and Twitter and Youtube, Wei Ying finds himself on the WQHS homepage—the UPenn student radio station, promising eclectic tastes from a variety of hosts. Wei Ying can't remember giving a shit about his old college's student radio before he dropped out, but it's eleven at night and he has nothing else better to do. He clicks on the button that says Listen Here! and waits to be impressed.
get wild by aroceu | rated E | 24K words | 🔥🏀🔥 BASKETBALL FIC 🔥🏀🔥
He was looking for a specific reaction—to get Lan Zhan to lash out. All hard edges and demanding, the same way during the first scrim, Lan Zhan's dark voice had made him loose and obedient, itching to both rebel and obey at the same time.
It's them, whatever it is, but it doesn't belong on the basketball court.
~
Wei Ying didn't expect to enter a weird... something-with-benefits-plus-power-play with the captain of the Gusu basketball team. He's not sure if it's worth it.
without a warning by aroceu | rated T | 10K words | 🥺️🥺️🥺️
“Blegh,” Wei Ying says. “I hate being sick, Lan Zhan… my throat is so sore… why do I talk so much?”
“Stop talking then,” Lan Zhan says.
“You don’t mean that,” Wei Ying says, in his half-asleep daze. “I know you’ll never admit it, Lan Zhan, but you like it when I talk.”
your honor i’m a freak bitch by aroceu | rated E | 6K words
Wei Ying gestures to his outfit. His hands are buried deep within the hoodie; he’s mostly gesturing with the sleeves. “Well, it works with the whole get up, you see?”
“The…” Lan Zhan looks down at where his fingers are toying with the top of Wei Ying’s thigh highs. Wei Ying pretends he is not shivering. “…skirt. And these stockings.”
“Thigh highs, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, batting at him with the end of a sleeve.
Play It By Ear by aroceu | rated T | 7K words | MY HEART !!!
In the virtual airplane flying over the island, appropriately called Yiling, Lan Zhan watches as bits and pieces of the island load in. There are many Statues of David, a gothic teacup ride, and, from what Lan Zhan can see, an entire field of spoiled turnips.
hanguang-jun @/hanguangjun Do you need turnips to sell?
timmy and tommy in a trenchcoat @/yilinglaozu oh! no haha! 😅 those are from a while ago but my brother insists i keep them there
for the ~aesthetic~
the key that our souls were singing by aroceu | rated M | 5K words
“I haven’t seen you since—Gusu, was it?” Wei Ying says. “Oh my god, it’s been so long. I didn’t even know you were LGBT! Unless you’re here as an ally, which is also totally cool—”
“No, I.” Lan Zhan coughs. Her throat feels dry. “I am a lesbian.”
abort retry fail by aroceu | rated E | 21K words
Lan Wangji must miss his husband over this amnesiac of a man Wei Wuxian has turned into. Well, Wei Wuxian will show him! He'll be even better—or at least, try to be just as good of a husband as he would be, without his memory loss.
Blackout If You Were Mine by aroceu | rated E | 9K words
Wei Ying likes to wear chokers a lot. So Lan Zhan buys some for him. Then, testing their limits, collars.
Wei Ying wears those, too.
-
Or, the one where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan accidentally stumble into a BDSM relationship.
eleven thousand meters & airborne by aroceu | rated E | 5K words | 😎✈️😎
Lan Zhan and Wei Ying join the mile high club.
many fox given by defractum | rated E | 24K words | can't go wrong with foxxian and dragonji content 🦊🐉
Lan Zhan is glaring at him. That's probably fair.
The last time they'd seen each other, Wei Ying had been digging through Lan Zhan's garbage. They'd made eye contact over the shredded bags, the week's trash scattered around him like stinky, oversized Lego.
Lan Zhan's eyes had been wide with horror, and Wei Ying's had been equally wide with feigned innocence. He'd reached out slowly, maintaining the eye contact, and then flipped over the food waste bin full of onion peel and carrot skin as a distraction and slunk off into the night. Probably not his finest moment.
-
Modern AU dragon!LWJ meets fox!WWX.
the tamed by defractum | rated E | 12K words
If the Second Jade of Lan insists on bringing the Yiling Patriarch as his guest to the next Cultivation Conference, he must first demonstrate a control over the Yiling Patriarch and his unnatural abilities.
The letter lies on their desk for days.
-
Post-canon, Wei Ying is invited, sort of, to a Discussion Conference.
us in a king-size, keep it a secret (say i'm your queen, i don't wanna leave this) by matcha_ado | rated E | 3K words
People always said Wei Ying was a royal pain in the ass. They were absolutely right, of course, just not in the way they thought.
it is wednesday my dudes by jelenedra | rated M | 4K words
Wednesday nights at Cloud Recesses strip club are always a little weird, but usually they're not this horny. Whatever Wei Ying and Lan Zhan get up to, Mianmian is not going to be the one to clean it up.
i'm the one for your fire by occultings | rated E | 43K words | cherry magic au! love it
Wei Ying, virgin and noted heterosexual, gets hit with a curse of an unusual nature on his 30th birthday — through physical contact, he can read the minds of others around him.
Enter Lan Zhan, hot former rival and current coworker, whose true thoughts about Wei Ying are nothing like he expects. (A loose Cherry Magic AU)
a thousand teeth, yours among them by darkredloveknot | rated E | 11K words
A one night stand in the time of zombies.
hoe to housewife pipeline by lanzhancore | rated E | 5K words
“You type fast,” Wei Ying murmurs, making a futile attempt at conversation while he waits for him to be done with… whatever. “Not to be pushy, but do you plan on fucking my ass anytime soon?”
or: wei ying has been thirsting after lan zhan for three slutty slutty years
can you feel it by lanzhancore | rated E | an instant classic
“What’s wrong?” Wei Ying asks finally, eyebrows drawn together. “Is everything okay?”
Thumbs stroking circles into his skin as if to comfort him, Lan Zhan says, “Don’t panic.”
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, sitting up on his elbows. “What did you do to my ass?”
“Nothing,” Lan Zhan says, convincing nobody. “But we need to go to the hospital.”
or: wei ying really should have sprung for the model with the flared base. he learns this lesson the hard way.
because you're mine (i walk the line) by lanzhancore | rated E | 8K words
Wei Ying is freshly cream-pied and still trying to remember where his legs are when Lan Zhan outlaws masturbation.
or: wei ying fucks around and finds out
payload by lanzhancore | rated M | 3K words | babysitter wwx + dilfji, what more could you need
Wei Ying has a whole five hours and thirty-six minutes to calm down but when he hears Lan Zhan’s key turning in the front door lock later that evening he has to cling to the couch cushions to keep from marching into the laundry room to retrieve the briefs so he can wave them in Lan Zhan’s face and demand to know who owns them.
or: lan zhan's self-restraint is not limitless
the to the brim series by verseau | rated E | 14K words total
Wei Ying wants to rob him, but it wouldn’t even be satisfying, since this guy is just—giving away money. With his nice fingers. Maybe Wei Ying will just bite his fingers, and that will give the same endorphin rush as robbing him. / a day told across five parts.
get that message home by verseau | rated G | 2K words | ohhhhhhhhh myyyyy godddddd 😭
Sizhui's father cannot haggle. It is a shame on Sizhui’s honor to have such an honest father.
Author's note [i'm including it here because it's golden]:
there is a scene in arrested development where lucille, who is on the opposite spectrum of humanity as lan zhan, asks, "it's a banana, michael. how much could one cost? ten dollars?" there are no bananas in this story.
dreaming and getting a glimmer by verseau | rated E | 27K words | a particular favorite of mine 🔥🍆💦🕳🔥
Wei Ying discovers himself.
trust your fingertips by plonk | not rated (but really rated E) | 15K word | 🥵️🥵️🥵️🥵️🥵️ plonk you’ve done it again!
Lan Wangji must suppress a shiver at every brush and press of Wei Wuxian’s fingers.
Under different circumstances - less public ones - he would welcome touch, given that his body is in such an aroused state.
Alas, his circumstances are these: sitting quietly while Wei Wuxian, the famous (infamous) Doctor of Yunmeng, digs his fingertips into Lan Wangji’s shoulders and chest and sides and hums thoughtfully.
Doctor, Doctor by YunmengLotus | rated E | 4K words | mmmmhmm!
Wei Ying needs to get a prostate exam. How ever will he deal when the world's hottest doctor walks through the exam room door and tells him to bend over?
TAKOYAKI by ariskamalt | rated E | 3K words | lan zhan gets jealous of his own damn appendages. meanwhile, wei ying is just having a good time.
Lan Zhan…cannot always feel or tell what his tentacles will do.
His free hand curls into a fist. Underneath his skin, the tentacles give a little squirm, as if aware of the challenge he has just issued them. No touching Wei Ying unless he says so, because he wants to touch Wei Ying first. They squirm again, as if to say, Tentacles: 1, Lan Zhan: 0.
That will just have to be remedied.
Or, as phnelt first described: Tentacle-ji with the semi autonomous tentacles getting jealous of his tenties for touching Wei Ying in places he hasn't yet
Outage by SugarMilkTea | rated E | 3K words | [cough] 😳😳😳
The power goes out in Lan Zhan and Wei Ying's rural home in the countryside. Lan Zhan takes advantage of the darkness to give in to one of his baser urges, and Wei Ying's first rural power outage experience is about to get a lot more interesting.
big hands (i know you’re the one) by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 8K words | NICE. 🔥🔥🔥
“Not a big talker, hm?” Wei Ying tilts his head to one side. “That’s okay, I’ve been told I’m a good enough conversationalist for three. My tongue is multi-talented and—”
He has just enough time to feel her palm on the back of his neck and think, oh, her hands are so big, before his words are being stolen into her mouth.
darling, am i a chore? by martyrsdaughter | rated E | 7K words
“Are you done playing around?”
Knowing that’s not what either of them actually wants, Wei Wuxian reaches up to tickle under Lan Wangji’s chin. Soft little scritches, coaxing motions—Lan Wangji is weak to all of them.
“You know what I want,” Wei Wuxian purrs, reaching up on his tiptoes to throw his arms over Lan Wangji’s shoulders. “Call me gege, won’t you? Call me and I’ll stop.”
(or: five times Lan Wangji paid special attention to Wei Wuxian’s interest in being his gege.)
put him on his knees, give him something to believe in by dustyloves | rated E | 2K words | if the title is quoting WAP, then you should know by now it’s gonna be some of that good filth
The next time Wei Ying kisses him, Lan Zhan is careful again. Wei Ying seems determined to make it very difficult.
the hard way by dustyloves | rated E | 9K words
"Anyway, you make it sound like something lewd is going on," Wei Ying complains. "It's all totally above board. She's just being a nice person. It's just one kind alpha grad student offering one room of her huge house to one beta undergrad in need, what could be more appropriate than that?"
// Wei Ying makes a mistake and finds out the hard way.
Exhibition by sevenless | rated E | 5K words
“Oh?” Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow. “The forbidden section, Lan Zhan?”
“Mn.”
“You’re not afraid of being heard?” Wei Wuxian thinks aloud. A smirk creeps onto his face, eyes glinting. “Or could it be that Lan-er-gongzi actually wants to be heard? Seen? Caught?” He skips in front of him, blocking his way. "Disciplined?”
Lan Wangji’s ears, as always, betray him.
a history of the body by northofallmusic | rated E | 14K words
Wei Ying's body hurts sometimes; she lets Lan Zhan help her.
A fic about the complicated nature of having a body, and also the versatility of sex toys.
(our friendship) up against the ropes by daltoneering | rated E | 36K words
The reboot completes, and Wei Ying’s brain smashes this information together into two mind-shattering thoughts. Number one, he knew very well already, and is now further seared by defined muscles and a mouth-watering tattoo into his every waking moment: Lan Zhan is the hottest fucking person on the planet.
Number two: that guy wasn’t visiting Lan Zhan’s neighbour, he was visiting Lan Zhan, which means:
Lan Zhan fucks. Lan Zhan fucks. Lan Zhan fucks.
;
Lan Zhan has been Wei Ying's best friend for years. Literally, years. How did he not already know? How has he missed this most important of facts? And more importantly, how is he ever going to get over it?
watching my heart go round by typefortydeductions | rated E | 38K+ words | WIP (2/4 chapters, last updated 5/2/21) | lan zhan i love you baby 💞
Lan Zhan falls apart. As it turns out, that's not the end.
~
oh man this list is so long sd;jfkdsjfhhh
yati, i hope you find some stuff in this pile here that you’ll enjoy! it's not an exhaustive list, so check out the authors’ other works and bookmarks for more goods, if you feel so inclined 😙💕
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burnedbyshoto · 4 years
Note
Can I request a self conscious chubby Shouto? Reader gives him kisses on his tummy and reassures him about his weight?
tw: shouto has poor body image, fluff, angsty
shouto had been hospitalized for five months.
after what was most definitely the most horrific villain attack seen on live tv against only one hero, the doctors never shut up about how he was lucky to have won, how lucky he was to be alive. it was far after the days that recovery girl had passed, and with no healing quirk having matched her ability it had been a long five months in hospice care.
he had spent one month in a coma and the next four just healing. it had been a hard four months, his body almost refusing to move, black and yellow bruises covered his body still, and the diet... the diet they had him on was one that was supposed to help him gain weight. it was to help with his healing and aid with the muscle gain he was going to need in order to be where he once was - he understood that and he appreciated the doctors doing what was best for him but he didn’t understand how he went from his strong, toned, and lithe form to one with flappy arms, pooling thighs, and a tummy so large he couldn’t see his toes without leaning forward. he never thought he would hate that he couldn’t see his jawline anymore, that he could hate that he couldn’t sit up without feeling his stomach, hate that he was so hungry all the time. he hated that he was so... he was so—
“welcome home!” you cheered merrily, guiding shouto back into the house that had been without his presence for almost half a year.
he tried to focus on you and only you, your mindless babble about how you had learned how to make cold soba noodles for him while he was in the hospital (although you made sure to insist that they weren’t that good so to not get his hopes up, but shouto was tittering on being excited and nauseous at the thought of having endless cold soba), how you had temporarily moved the master bedroom into the closest room to the front door and kitchen just in case he wasn’t ready to move that much, how you had accidentally broken the sliding door but had his brother come and fix it for you, and of course just how happy and grateful you were that he was out. shouto tried to stay engaged but he could feel the eyes scorching on his back, the nosy neighbors and paparazzi who wanted the first pictures of him since his release.
he hated this, he hated his body right now, and their judgmental gaze burned him from the inside out. for over twenty years of his life he had never been without muscle on his body and now... now he was... he was—
“watch your step, you’re been limping again, I don’t want you to trip,” came your gentle voice, your foot planted on the stair and the other on the floor as if to support him in case he fell. like you could keep him upwards if he did, he bitterly thought.
regardless, shouto gave you a gracious half smile and carried through, stepping up to the stair and flinching when he felt that skin he was still starkly unfamiliar with move. but the moment the front door closed behind the both of you, shouto felt empty.
the rest of the day was filled with shouto adjusting to the house once more. adjusting to the way the floors creaked under his feet, of how you always waited for him to enter through the doorways instead of attempting to go through them with him, of how you lingered behind him with conscious eyes and nervous fingers. he knew you were worried, it was as obvious as the sun during a summer heat wave, but it offered him no comfort... it only made him feel worse, made him graze his fingers against his... his...
“why don’t you take a shower?” you suggest, your hands grabbing the dishes on the table. you had made soup, he was still to be on a mostly liquid diet until next week. “I bet this has been exhausting, and if you shower then I can shower and we can sleep early tonight!”
shouto strained a smile again, his tongue still failing to speak. he hasn’t spoken a word in weeks, but you never seemed to grow angry at his lack of words thankfully. his eyes fluttered close when you leaned across the table and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his body shivering both at the familiar contact that he loved and the aching pain that continued to be suppressed.
showering nearly killed him.
feeling the way that his body now worked within the confines of the small room made his head spin. he hated that he couldn’t merely twist his body anymore, he had to completely turn around. he hated that he had to use more body wash, his hands shaking when he maneuvered around the fat that had built on his stomach, the stretched skin that fell on his thighs and arms.
stretch marks... as if the scar on his face wasn’t enough.
with a shaky sigh, he turned off the water and exited the shower.
he wasn’t feeling too bad with the warm water soaking into his skin, but he made the mistake of looking into the mirror as he made his way back to the room.
a mistake.
a mistake.
a mistake.
his eyes bore into his figure, was this really him? he could barely recognize himself. this... this had to be a mistake, there was no way this was him. his hands pressed to his side, hoping that this was all a figment of his imagination, just some twisted depression that was keeping him bound to the worst of this all.
but his hands fell on his body right where he had hoped they wouldn’t, and something snapped within him.
CRASH!
shouto didn’t even realize that he was panting like some rabid animal, his body trembling with extreme force, and the room covered with ice and burn marks. he collapsed forward, suddenly feeling weak, and with every ragged breath tears pricked at the back of his eyes, threatening to fall out but wouldn’t.
he was...
he was f--
“shouto? are you okay in there?”
he couldn’t even bother turning his head to look over at the opening door, but had he, he would’ve seen the way that your head peeked in, your eyes focused with concern, sympathy, and love. he focused on his hands, the white of his gripping knuckles, and the bulge of his veins.
“I-I’m okay,” he finally spoke, his head remaining low, horrid thoughts plaguing his head as the cold hallway air drafted into the room sending shivers down his spine - not that he reacted to it.
“that’s a lie if I ever heard one,” you sigh, not even trying to give him the satisfaction of believing his lie. but again, that was a quality he loved about you. “I won’t press because i’m sure this has been an overwhelming day for you, but... i’m here for you, shouto, you know?”
it was then that your hand pressed against his spine, and shouto felt his soul leave his body.
he didn’t want you touching him like this, he thought, storming away, trying to avoid your worried look as he pushed past you.
no not like this, his eyes clenched and his fists trembled at his side.
he was ugly, he gasped for air as he entered the room, his vision swimming.
he was... he was--!
“please don’t cry... please don’t cry without telling me why you’re upset!” your voice begged and shouto hated how distraught you sounded. “are you in pain?”
“no. well, not really.”
“is this happening too fast? were you discharged too soon?”
“no... i’m fine.”
it’s....
“was it the food? I know i’m still learning, but I didn’t think the food was that bad!”
“n-no, not that...”
it’s because...
“then what’s going on, sho?”
“it’s because i’m fat!” shouto finally spat, his body shaking with exploding emotion, steam spilling from his body as if he was fighting some evil villain.
his face was set in stone, a look of pure emotionlessness as long as you didn’t look into his eyes. as long as you didn’t know that sad glint in his eyes meant that he was emotionally beyond repair right now. he saw your mouth drop, most likely to ease any ‘untrue’ thoughts that danced on his mind. he didn’t want to hear it.
“I am, y/n, i’m fat. my clothes don’t fit and I have to wear these... throw away clothes! the doctors said im almost twice my usual weight. I-I have fat in places I didn’t even know existed, my stomach is so fucking huge i’m surprised kaminari hasn’t sent me some pregnant meme by now, and it took all my energy to just shower today. i’m fat!” shouto heaved, his forehead covered in cold sweat while glaring at the wall to the left of your head. he couldn’t look at you right now, not after that outburst.
the silence lingered thickly in the air, corroding the muscles in his throat, making his heart flutter in anxiety driven pulses while you shifted from foot to foot, your teeth gnawing at your lower lip. he wanted to apologize to you, for what he didn’t know but he felt bad. his actions were halted by you sharp inhale, and that kind strong smile that fell on your face.
“...well, im not going to fight you on that, but i’m glad you spoke your mind,” you said softly, your hands moving to grip each other while you tried to save face in front of him. it was obvious that you hadn’t even thought that which made shouto feel even guiltier. “I’m going to shower, so please get ready for bed, yeah? we’ll talk more once we’re in bed and relaxed a bit!”
shouto’s nostrils flared, his heart squeezing at the fact that you still showed him such kind and soft love, and so he nodded his head in agreement.
“I won’t take long,” you promised about your shower, and shouto smiled even if a bit emotionlessly before your lips pressed softly against his. “be right back, get ready.”
he wasn’t sure how long it took him to get ready and for you to join him in bed, but his eyes were opened and he was staring off at your side of the bed as you climbed into bed. the gentle, warm, and cool scent of your hair wash and body wash drafted into his nose, a very welcoming smell after months of knowing only the sterile smell of bleached walls and floors.
“you ready to talk?” you asked him, and shouto blinked once, twice, his sight refocusing on your shining eyes and furrowed brow. he knew immediately that you had a lot to speak on, most likely creating some sort of script to follow.
“no,” shouto couldn’t help but say, his own worries forgotten for a moment when the natural need to tease you infiltrated his veins. “but i’m ready to hear you talk.”
your lips pursed, twitching in a way that made it obvious to him at least that you were resisting the urge to verbally attack him. 
“five months ago, I thought I was going to lose you.” you began, your eyes uncharacteristically dropping from his own gaze and trailing down his body, as if in disbelief that he was even here. your hands moved to his chest, pressing softly onto the skin that he was hateful towards. “when I got the news that you had been hospitalized, and that you had gone into a coma... I wasn’t sure what to think. but you woke up before I knew it and then four months went by after you woke up, and i’ve been so... grateful that you survived that I hadn’t even bothered to think about how you must be feeling about this entire thing. I know this is a lot of change, its a lot of change, and I don’t know how to really help, but this is what I think.”
shouto felt his breathing nearly stop as your fingers trailed down the fat on his arms, his chest and his stomach. your eyes almost shyly met his and you pressed a kiss to his lips, unwilling to allow him to think for a second that this was just some staged thing. 
“your weight doesn’t define you. your weight doesn’t make you less desirable. does your weight make you fat? sure, it completely does, but there’s nothing wrong with being fat. fat is not ugly, fat is not weak, fat is not less. bodies need fat, its basic biology. without fat we can’t exist, we can’t do anything, and sure right now you have more than you’ve ever had - but it’s okay, you’re still healthy and that is what matters. i mean look at fat gum! sure, he needs to be fat in order for his quirk to work, but nevertheless, he’s fat and he’s a pro hero. he’s healthy and still he’s fat. if you would rather be skinny than fat, that’s okay, you can choose what you want to be, as long as it’s done with good intentions. at the end of the day you’re still my shouto, you’re the man I know and love because fat determines none of that. I love the fat on your body as much as I loved the abs because either way it’s you.”
the words rang heavy in his ears, all thoughts and reasons he had seemingly disappeared the moment the last word was said. and tears fell from his eyes when you kissed every spot on his body that he had once been dreadfully insecure about. every kiss to his stomach sent butterflies through every cell, every soft breath spreading chills until he was gasping for breath - until you were finally back to his face and pressing kisses to his face until he wrapped you closer.
“I love you in any form you take.”
~
a/n: it may not be my place to share this with you, but while writing this it actually reminded me of a ted talk I had seen once. I think its a very good talk, and dismantles a lot of mainstream thoughts about self love which I at least thought was important. if you were able to make it to the bottom of this, I suggest checking it out because as this video re-taught me, fat is not a synonym for ugly, and we should stop believing that it is.
321 notes · View notes
skyevie · 3 years
Text
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I posted 365 times in 2021
155 posts created (42%)
210 posts reblogged (58%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 1.4 posts.
I added 221 tags in 2021
#mcl - 72 posts
#mclll - 58 posts
#my candy love - 58 posts
#mcl love life - 10 posts
#amor doce - 8 posts
#eldarya - 7 posts
#amour sucre - 3 posts
#genshin impact - 2 posts
#personal - 2 posts
#honestly they could put him in uni and ll just because his arc was so rushed - 1 posts
Longest Tag: 81 characters
#please can we get some edgy emo clothes beemov i beg u we didnt get any since hsl
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
im sorry but thise ouftis are so ugly... beemov i beg you WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS
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42 notes • Posted 2021-02-11 10:12:10 GMT
#4
at this point i have predictions that if we cheated Candy might move from the city with Eric. If cosy bear goes bankrupt and all of our friends will hate us there’s nit much to do there.
hehe alexy drop your brother’s address i will gladly moge with him
44 notes • Posted 2021-03-03 14:12:12 GMT
#3
MCL HCS BECAUSE I MISS HSL SO BADLY
- armin and castiel have better friendship then it was showed in the game. i think they bonded about emo bands (my chemical romance, falling in reverse, black veil brides, pierce the veil and more), since its kinda obvious that castiel listens to this type of music and as a „weird gamer kid” i can assure you armin does as well
- on the topic of armins music taste he probably had a weird obsession with a kpop gg. since hsl lasted for like 8 years in our time but for the characters it was 1,5 years idk which gg i could give him. so i would say it would be girls’ generation, blackpink or loona, depends on when do we want to place hsl in our time.
- armin and castiel are bisexual, lysander just labels himself as queer and demisexual, kentin is straight and nath also straight but he had his bicurious moment
- on the bi curious nath topic, when he started to get along with armin, he thought he developed a crush on him. but turns out it wasn’t the case he was just never this close with someone so poor guy got confused (i dont blame him tbh)
- armin would say „this one is for u shawty” and the miss the basketball shot
- if we would place hsl in 2020/2021 i think that armin would get all the guys to pkay genshin and they would be totally obsessed about it for a few good months
- i feel like armin and kentin would vape and castiel would make fun of them and call them pussies for not smoking cigarettes (it would be playfully tho)
- kentin is insecure about his height so he would buy doc martens with platforms or would wear those weird platform insoles (im sorry i saw them on tiktok ad last week and i haven’t stopped thinking about them)
- lysander got the „three cheers for sweet revenge” cover on his notebook cover
- also i think lysander would cry to helena by mcr
- i kinda hate to say it but kentin would record and post thirst traps on tiktok
- armin used to have an obsession with mbti
- lysander forgets to reply to the messages and either replies in the middle of the night because he wokes up in cold sweat remembering the unread message or he forgets what he wanted to reply so he just sends monkey gifs
47 notes • Posted 2021-11-17 20:44:51 GMT
#2
i made . i made a meme that represents me
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54 notes • Posted 2021-06-07 08:52:30 GMT
#1
i saw this meme on my tl on twitter and decided its a good opportunity to use it so 🔥
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157 notes • Posted 2021-07-02 20:51:31 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
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kibybun · 4 years
Note
Hi. Can I ask you to write about Aizawa or Hawks and their darling, who constantly joked about death and eventually she committed suicide, please? I love your writing💞 You are so awesome and talented and cool. Thank you so much for your work💕
Oh my gosh, thank you so much! I hope you like it!💞💞
Platonic Yandere Hawks x suicide joking reader
Tw: Yandere, suicide, self harm, angst
Enjoy!
💛Hawks first met you at the sports festival, showing off your quirk and demonstrating power. You caught his attention rather quickly.
💛Not only were you adorable but intriguing as well. You wore long sleeves, even though you looked uncomfortable in them, and you seemed oddly quiet compared to everyone else, shying away when they come up to talk to you.
💛Another thing that stood out to him was when you were doing the calvary battle. No one came to ask you to join their team, but you didn't go out and ask to join either. You just stood there until a purple hair guy came up to you, most likely getting you to join his group.
💛Though, you seemed to change. Your fighting style and the way you use your quirk changed.
💛It bothered Hawks the whole calvary battle but he was put at ease when some kid with a tail backed out due to the other guy brainwashing him.
💛You end up backing out too, much to Hawk's dismay.
💛Even though you weren't fighting anymore he still keeps his attention on you, not seeing your other classmates or students.
💛He watched you zone out and silently cheer for your classmates, finding it adorable as you watch in awe at some of the battles.
💛The sports festival ends and he follows you home, only to make surd your okay. Once he got home he quickly put in a request for you to come intern with him before going to bed.
💛When you went back to school you were excited to see if anyone wanted you to intern with them, knowing you wouldn't get as many requests like Todoroki or Deku.
💛... two. Only two requests.
💛It hurt to look at the board and see that you one of the most unwanted students in class 1-A. You thought you did really well and maybe impressed more than two people.
💛You get your list of hero agencies and sink deeper into your self pitty when you realize that one of the agencies werebt even specifically asking for you. All the students got requested by them.
💛That leaves Hawk's agency.
💛You didn't know much about him and his work so this was going to be awkward.
💛When the day came to board the subway and head off to your internship, no one wished you goodbye. All the groups and clicks were together, walking each other to their respective trains while you again, stood alone. You ere used to it though.
💛You board the train and zone out, nearly missing your stop.
💛Right as you get off the train your vision is filled with red feathers. Low and behold the pro hero who requested you.
💛His charisma hits you as you instantly feel welcome. He makes witty remarks about the train being too slow as he begins walking with you in tow.
💛Along the way you ask him why he wanted you to intern with him. He smirks and responds with a "Why wouldn't I?" That didn't answer your question.
💛He walks you to his agency and introduces you to all his other interns. After that he shoves you towards the bathroom, telling you to change into your hero costume.
💛He sure didn't waste time as the two of you begin patrolling the city. It seemed very rushed and eager but you prefered it over having to sit in class and do quizzes.
💛During patrol Hawks starts questioning you about school and life almkst like an uncle or brother would. It was very odd to you, considering you never get asked questions about yourself.
💛You felt so pitiful not being able to tell him your birthday, you had forgotten it, but somehow he was so understanding and kind about it.
💛It wasn't long before all of his fans flocked to the two of you, shouting questions and begging for autographs. You didn't like how all the people were surrounding you and Hawks could tell.
💛He uses his wing to shield you and hastily shoos the crowd off. After that he asks if you're okay and checks to make sure you didn't get hurt.
💛His intentions weren't to sleep with you, no. They were pure. He almost saw himself in you, alone and blocked off from the world. He just wanted to protect you and make sure you knew you weren't alone.
💛It was working too.
💛In the short week you were with him you had laughed the hardest you had in awhile and smiled more. You even considered him your bestfriend.
💛The one downside of your friendship was he couldn't see your cries for help.
💛While one roofs or flying with him you'd make jokes about how easy it would be to fall and die or how fun it'd feel to free fall.
💛He'd only laugh these off, thinking it was some kind of dark humor, because if something was wrong he'd trust you to tell him.
💛When the internship was over you had to hold back tears as he hugged you goodbye. Of course he gave you his number to keep in touch but it wouldn't be the same as sneaking away from work and eating fried chicken.
💛The second the train left you felt how alone you were. You didnt want to text him right away because that would feel too needy. Should you even text him? Was he doing it just to be nice or did he actually care?
💛You leave those thoughts behind as your phone buzzes. It was a text from Hawks. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"
💛Your mood brightens as the two of you continue sending dumb chicken jokes, memes, and puns, with the occasional "dark humored" joke from you.
💛You make it home and your texting slowed, mainly due to Hawks having to work. You didn't know he was actually flying outside your house, making sure you were okay before flying off to buy you a dumb looking teddy bear.
💛Slowly, your mood begins to brighten with the constant reassurance of Hawks being there. He knew the right things to say at all times. Self conscious about your outfit? Incomes a barrage of compliments and confidence boosters. Nervous about a test or presentation? Boom, paragraphs about how amazing you are and how you can do it.
💛It almost made the emptiness inside go away.
💛Problems don't just go away, and it really shows.
💛Whenever you couldn't text or call Hawks your loniness sinks in. You had no other friends besides him. Your parents weren't the beat either with their comments about what you're doing or what you're wearing.
💛It only reminded you of all the reasons for the scars on your arms.
💛But before you could act on those reasons he was there. It was always magicly when you were crying in bed or fumbling with a sharp object.
💛Over time Hawks picked up on your thoughts and feelings, causing him to watch over you every second he could. He loved you so much, he couldn't lose you.
💛The amount of cute gifts he gets you griw over time. More stuffed animals, more snacks, more little trinkets. Anything to make you happy.
💛And again, it worked. The nights you spent crying or staring numbly at the ceiling slowly decreased. You also threw away the razors you had hidden, determined to stay clean.
💛When the work studies came you were the happiest you've ever been. You got to be with Hawks again.
💛Upon seeing him you were greeted with the best hug you've ever gotten along with fried chicken for lunch.
💛But something was off this time. He seemed a little more paranoid walking around the city with you, more eager to be inside at night, and disappearing at night.
💛It worried you, making you overthink the hole situation tenfold.
💛What if he was trying to avoid you? Where you being that annoying? Maybe he was tired of you. You should just leave him alone.
💛He hugs you goodbye as you leave, still conflicted.
💛Sadly your thoughts only grow stronger as time goes on. His texts become shorter and less frequent, making you think he was tired of you. His constant gifts had stopped as well
💛Hawks couldn't control his lack of contact with you. He wanted to spam you with memes at two am like he normally did but he was given a mission that couldn't be compromised, even at the expense of your friendship.
💛You fall back into your dark place without him. You were reminded of how forgettable you were to everyone, how you had no friends beside him, how your parents were disappointed in you.
💛What's the point in living in pain?
💛You start cutting again, just wanting to feel something again. You stop sleeping and eating, not feeling the need for it anymore. You completely passed out during training due to this.
💛One weekend you ride a train away from your town and into the one where Hawk's agency was. You were looking for him, a sign, anything, to tell you to stop.
💛The streets were empty and he was no where in sight.
💛You fight yourself at the top of a business building, hands trembling as you sent a final text to your only friend. You told him how much he ment to you, how grateful you were to him, how sorry you were for being annoying and taking up so much of his time, how this was goodbye.
💛You got to feel the wind rush past you. You were right about it being fun to free fall.
💛Hawks was talking to Dabi when his phone buzzed. Thinking it was the commission he checked it.
💛Dabi watched as Hawk's smug demeanor turned to confused then broken. He watched the pro hero fall to his knees and clutch his phone, nearly cracking it.
💛Dabi didn't even have a chance to ask what was wrong as Hawks flew at super sonic speed away from him and up into the sky.
💛He first scanned the buildings looking for you, wiping the tears from his eyes to try and see better. When he couldn't find you he swoops down low to the streets to see if he could catch you before you hit the ground.
💛He stops when he sees the splatters of your body of the ground.
💛He collapses next to you, sobbing as he looked at your remains.
💛It was his fault. He should've been there so much more. He should've watched you more carefully than he did. He should've killed those fuckers who thought they were better than you.
💛You should've lived.
💛Hawks lays there crying, going over all the things he did wrong and how it should've been him to die.
💛The morning comes and police officers tape off the area, pulling a now broken man away from you. They clean the area and leave.
💛Hawks mindlessly sits in the spot you were in, hoping this was a nightmare.
💛Night falls and Dabi managed to find him. He tells Hawks that he saw the news. It was odd for him to feel sympathy for a hero but here he was.
💛Hawks stands and grabs Dabi's hand, placing it on his face before begging him to set him ablaze. He didn't want to live in a world without you.
💛Dabi backs up, retreating his hand and looking at him stunned. What exactly did you mean to him?
💛Hawks continues to beg and pleas but Dabi continues to refuse. Too bad Hawks would do anything to die at this point.
💛Hawks shouts out his plans to spy on the league, to manipulate and destroy them from the inside. How he would kill them all in secret if he could. How it would be the best feeling ever to watch them die in betrayal.
💛Dabi falls for his trap. Rage was the only thing he could feel as his fire engulfed Hawks, semding him to the grave in a firey blaze.
💛He ran from the scene, leaving another body in the same spot.
kiby~💚
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fandomsnfluff · 3 years
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Oughhhh i can’t wait for your belphie tickle meme ! And can I requeste my baby Satan too OnO? pretty please ?
yeah of course!! nobody has actually requested belphie yet so feel free to ask for him as well!!
character tickling ask meme
on a scale of 1-10, how ticklish are they? he’s at least a 7!
where is their most ticklish spot(s)? the backs of his knees are ULTRA sensitive, also his armpits, sides and feet are pretty bad too ;w;
which spots are they not ticklish? he’s pretty good at keeping his composure generally, but parts of his arms and legs don’t really do much for him
what is their laugh like? he squeals a lot! oh and instead of his voice changing octaves like most of his brothers it kind of just comes out as a forced scream. like literally he thinks the sound is gonna scare away offenders (sometimes it does ngl) it’s just cute as hell 😭
do they enjoy tickling? if yes, is it a fun platonic/familial thing, or kinky thing to them, or can it be both depending on the circumstance? it’s something that he generally finds silly and prefers to stay out of it, but as we’ve seen he does have his playful moments. it’s definitely a platonic and familial thing, and he’s often pulled into tickle piles involving his brothers and mc
are they more often a lee or ler, generally? he’s definitely more of a ler, but he doesn’t tickle unless he feels like an appropriate situation or if he’s in the mood to do so
who is someone in their life that they tickle often? he probably tickles mc a lot, he also likes tickling belphie too because he’s cute and mellow but he feels most comfortable showing this side of himself to mc
who is someone in their life that they get tickled by often? probably his brothers, like we’ve established he prefers to stay out of it but when he’s in the right mood he lets himself get dragged into the fun (and let’s be honest he tends to get fucking wrecked)
does the word “tickle” or any variation of embarrass them? not really, it’s kind of just another word for him. but he does get a bit flustered if someone around him who he’s built an image of himself around asks him
are they embarrassed about their ticklishness, and do they try to deny/hide it? he definitely tries to deny it; not as much as lucifer, but he will attempt to avoid it at all costs. he does NOT like being tickled and will threaten the person doing it (but again, it depends on his mood)
would gentle tickling or rough tickling affect them more? he definitely appreciates gentler tickles more; rough tickles just push him a bit over the edge and will tend to overstimulate him. if you want to see the cutest reactions though, do something in between!
is there a specific spot that they enjoy being tickled, either exclusively or more than other spots? what is it? nope, he does not like being tickled at ALL. he used to enjoy tickle fights with mammon when they were younger, but as he aged he found that his older brother tended to take things too far and that kind of caused him to hate being tickled no matter who it came from, but little moments with someone he’s okay with are fine with him
is there a spot that they can’t stand to be tickled, either because it’s just too sensitive, or it’s uncomfortable/painful/etc? what is it? THE BACKS OF HIS KNEES WILL SEND HIM OVER THE EDGE IN MILLISECONDS I SHIT YOU NOT. he will literally flop and squirm like a fish out of water as if his life depends on it, he’s just super duper sensitive there. he also hates having his feet tickled for the same reason skjdhfkjsdh
would they ever purposefully bug a friend/partner/sibling into tickling them, and if so, how would they go about it? NOPE. if you want to tickle satan, you have to 1. be someone who he’s okay with playful squabbles with from time to time, and 2. just do it. he will NEVER ask to be tickled or goad someone into doing it intentionally.
does teasing affect them? IT REALLY DOES OMG. he will deny it to the end of his days, but verbal teasing while getting his sides and armpits (or just quickly switching spots which seems to be an effective strategy for him) will make him sputter and blush all while he begs for you to stop
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