#Tea's Important🌸

[luvcryo]

Here is my masterlist!

Unless specified in a request, I only write for gender neutral, race neutral reader, and if I accidently don't please let me know! I only do x reader but I will include a ship if it's a poly relationship w/ reader or if it's a side ship in a fic.

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A little about me..

Hello! I'm Sawyer, a minor, queer, and although I created this blog originally for genshin impact, I write for many different things! I'm very inconsistent in my writing (both in my writing style and in how often I write..) but I created this blog to get better at it! I'm totally willing to be mutuals with anyone, and you're free to message me at any time, I'm just to scared to start the conversation myself ^^ Aside from writing, I also enjoy culinary arts, especially baking, am interested in art and art history despite not really being an artist myself, and play video games (obviously), one of my favorite being Detroit: become human!

Do not follow me if you are an exclusively nsfw blog.

Other than Im not gonna have a dni because I honestly don't really care that much anymore, just be a kind person, and you should be fine.

[sunlitsakuras]

I should make. A flowerfox tag

[honeytonedhottie]

a glamorous well-being⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🌸

i've decided to write this post to remind my audience that you're own well being comes first and just share some ways on how you can focus on ur well being in small steps that can gradually build a lifestyle.

BEAUTY SLEEP ;

go to bed at a reasonable time and wake up at a reasonable time. when ur well rested you'll feel and look your best. theres a reason why ppl call beauty sleep beauty sleep.

when u dont get enough sleep ur skin is dull, you'll start to have eyebags beneath ur eyes and can even shorten ur life span. and thats not hot.

if u feel like it'll make u more well rested, take a midday nap. if u find that u have problems sleeping, having a before bed routine that soothes u can rly help u to sleep like the angel that you are.

drink a warm cup of tea before bed

do gentle stretches

take a soothing bath or shower

DIGITAL MINIMALISM ;

we experience the fear of missing out bcuz of our habit of consuming hundreds if not thousands of unnecessary information every single day. in a way we've become information addicts.

no scroll mornings - cutting a habit completely might be hard so dont jump in with both feet immediately. go little by little.

digital declutter - intentionally cut out optional online activity and instead focus on something in person like ur community, urself and ur projects

APPRECIATING SILENCE ;

if the weather permits, i rly recommend going for walks. walking is not only good for ur body but also ur mind and getting fresh air and sunlight is rly good for u and important.

start doing guided meditations

go on daily walks to get some fresh air

JOURNALLING ;

journalling is so easy and fun and glamorous. i love the concept of journals bcuz its just such a cute way to get everything from ur mind onto paper which is helpful.

to journal with the intention of improving ur well being i recommend to get into shadow work cuz its like journal therapy. i'll link a post with shadow work prompts right here, that way you can have a place to kind of start off from.

other then simply doing shadow work journalling or maintaining a diary of sorts is also helpful for ur well being bcuz it showcases ur growth and its a great way to cultivate a sense of self without fear of judgement or privacy invasion from others.

TAKING BIG STEPS IN EASY WAYS ;

i think that the secret to overall wellness in the most glamorous way possible is a bunch of little habits that can contribute to an overall beautiful and glamorous inside and outside.

so focus on building habits before you make a huge lifestyle switch. not to confuse this with not being all in. you must be all in otherwise you'll fall back into unhealthy and old patterns for the sake of comfort.

but thats not hot, you can take baby steps while still being all in. commit to a more vibrant and more well self cuz you'll thank urself in the long run.

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-BANG CHAN

A loose retelling of Hades and Persephone-modernized and darker than before, but beautiful all the same.

A/N: I'm not happy with this. But you guys can have it anyway.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, Bang Chan, Chan, Christopher, Christopher Bang, Y/N, Femreader, Chan as Hades, Y/N as Persephone, Underworld, Greek Mythology, Hades and Persephone, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Chan x you, Chan x reader, Chan x y/n, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Other members make guest appearances as various Greek gods, Greek Gods

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst

Warnings: Underworld Shit, Dark Undertones, Underhanded God and Mortal shit and dealings, Death, Dying, Triggering Themes, Toxic Relationships (not main characters), Chan's fucking in love with reader to the point of obsession.

Playlist:

🌸I’ll Be Damned-Gavn

🌸Seven Nation Army-Stevie Howie

🌸Call Me-ShineDown

🌸Granite-Sleep Token

🌸Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version)-Taylor Swift

Title: Every Last Seed

He goes by many names.

He always has.

Hades.

Ploutos.

King of the Underworld.

God of the Dead.

Bringer of Death.

Lord of Darkness.

But by far, his favorite name is the one that only you are allowed, dripping from your lips, soft and sweet, like honey, like a deadly nectar he's become addicted to-

Mine.

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"Where the fuck is he?" Chan storms through the door to his office, terrifying the wraith he employs as his secretary, her throat jumping with a gulp, as she straightens her glasses, and clasps her clipboard to her opaque chest.

"Ah, sir, I was just asking his Lordship if he'd prefer tea or coffee-"

"No need." Chan growls, not even bothering to look in her direction. "He won't be staying."

Hyunjin grins from his position behind Chan's overly large desk, his feet planted directly in the middle of some important treaties Chan had been working on the day before for some particularly pesky mortals.

"Ah, is that any way to treat your baby brother, Channie?"

His given name. The only ones who dare call him by that name are his brothers and you.

Everyone else just refers to him by the name the mortals gifted him when he became God of the Dead eons ago-Hades.

Chan stalks toward his brother's reclined form and promptly shoves his feet off the desk with a little bit more force than necessary.

"The perfect way, actually. Especially when said brother is impeaching on my very valuable and limited time, uninvited, I might add."

Hyunjin sniffs, straightening the highly expensive baby blue suit he wears, and plants his feet firmly on the ground, swiveling in Chan's chair to face him.

He tucks a strand of his golden hair back behind his ear and levels Chan with a self important look that makes him grind his teeth in agitation.

"Fine. You obviously want me to get straight to the point, so I will."

Chan feels a muscle tick in his jaw as he taps his foot impatiently, motioning with his hand for the man before him to continue.

"Great. What is it?"

Hyunjin sighs, making a show of straightening the crown on his brow, and then he gives Chan a grimace which he tries to soften with a halfhearted smile that Chan sees through immediately.

It makes his clench his fingers into fists at his side.

"How's the new little wife, hm, big brother? Satisfactory, I presume?"

Chan feels himself prickle at the mention of you, but he keeps his expression unreadable, dark, as he stares back at his clearly prodding brother.

"Fine. Anything else? Or did you travel all the way here and risk your wife's wrath just to ask me how my honeymoon was?"

Hyunjin blanches at the mention of Hera, and clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable now in the face of Chan's obvious ire.

"Yes, well-" He stands up, planting his hands flat on Chan's desk and leaning toward him, as if to appear intimidating.

Chan wants to laugh at the pathetic display.

"-there's been a problem. I'm sure you've noticed the influx of extra souls ever since you uh, tied the knot, without her mother's permission?"

He fidgets nervously under Chan's unwavering, blank stare.

Tugging at the collar of his expensive suit once more, Chan watches as his younger brother, the supposed God of the Gods, seems to wilt under his penetrating gaze.

Finally, he sighs heavily, and seems to implore Chan to give him something, anything, he can work with.

"Her mother's fucking pissed with you, Channie, all right? I'll just come out and say it. I need you to fix this."

Chan remains unmoving, stoic, in the face of his brother's obvious plea.

After another moment of silence, Hyunjin throws his hands outward and exclaims with obvious exasperation, "C'mon, help me out here. Lord knows I've helped you in the past when you asked."

Chan arches a brow. "Helped me?"

His voice is flat, cold, deadly, and Hyunjin winces subtly.

"Okay, listen-" He holds up his hands, as if the weak gesture of peace will stop Chan's building fury. "-you know the delicate balance we have between the mortals. We worked decades for that, and if Demeter keeps fucking offing them left and right, just to spite and overwork you, and the Underworld, we're gonna have a much bigger fucking problem on our hands than a petty little feud between you and your recently acquired mother in law."

Chan hates to admit it, but Hyunjin's right, as much as it pains him to agree.

Fucking Demeter and the chip on her shoulder toward him.

God forbid, her perfect, innocent, naive daughter-the goddess of Spring-fall in love with someone as twisted and dark and wicked as Chan-god of the dead and ruler of the Underworld.

No, the Goddess of Harvest was not bound to let this go lightly, and it seemed he needed to put a stop to this before it ever really began.

A few extra mortal souls on his workload was nothing really, but if she even thought about dissuading you-

Chan pinches the bridge of his nose and screws his eyes shut. He can feel a headache building.

"Fine." He grits out, and he can practically hear Hyunjin breathe a sigh of relief. "I'll handle it."

Ignoring his brother and his babbled platitudes of thanks, he steps toward the window and looks down over the city below, flickering to life beneath the coming darkness.

"But know this-" He turns and levels Hyunjin with a dangerous, black gaze. "-if I even hear a whisper of you and Demeter's little foolish escapades putting my wife in danger, I will end you both without a second thought and with one snap of my fingers."

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He still remembered the first time he ever laid eyes on you. How could he forget?

Attending one of his younger brothers garish and old fashioned parties-he'd thought they'd stopped doing these kinds of things centuries ago-he'd been dragged over to rub shoulders with some of the greats, one stiff tuxedo away from going the fuck home where he belonged.

And then, he'd seen you, hidden in Demeter's shadow- though nothing could truly hide your exquisite and rare beauty, not even your mother's sour, pinched expression-and his feet had moved toward you without permission, as if drawn by an invisible thread of fate.

Your mother had looked at him as he approached with such disdain it would've set him on fire had he not been a god, but he'd ignored her, striding boldly forward through the party goers until he stood directly in front of you.

"Hades." Demeter had hissed in greeting, dark hatred flashing in her eyes as she'd put a protective arm out in front of you.

You stared up at him with the biggest, most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, and extended one slender, soft hand out toward him, breaching the threshold of your mother's protection without a second thought, as if you could feel the tug of the persistent string too.

"Persephone." You had whispered, than blushed, your cheeks going red, as his fingers found yours. "Or Kore. O-or (Y/N). Whatever is to your liking, your highness."

Your hand was like velvet-warm and silky in his own-and his fingers dwarfed yours, making them feel delicate and almost fragile in his grip.

"I know who you are, Goddess of Spring." He had replied, with far more confidence in his low tone than his quivering gut felt in the moment.

Your expression had flashed surprise at his words, and you glanced away under his direct gaze, red, full lips parted, cheeks taking on an even deeper hue of scarlet.

The look of sudden shy demureness on your features intoxicated him, and his dick immediately took notice.

"I am honored that one such as yourself, your highness, has taken notice of me already."

He had cleared his throat, subtly adjusting himself in his too expensive slacks-some high end shit Hyunjin had insisted he wear-at the soft tone of pleasure your voice took on at his attention, and finally, reluctantly released your hand, even as Demeter ushered you back behind her looming form.

"We really must be going." Her expression went from pinched to furious as his eyes lingered on you just a bit longer than necessary. She ushered you away. "Say goodbye, Kore."

"Goodbye." You had murmured, eyes flitting up to his briefly, before you let your mother lead you away and out of his sight.

Chan took his leave shortly after, giving Hyunjin some bullshit excuse of the Underworld not running itself, and had hightailed it home, his skin itching beneath the ridiculous suit he wore, and his hard-on aching for a release.

That night, he came with his cock in hand, and your name on his lips.

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He arrives home to find you in the garden, kneeling in the dirt, fingers dug deep into the soil.

It's a common occurrence, a sight he's grown used to, but he still pauses, watching you silently for a few moments, enjoying the way your hair falls around your face, the way the curves of your body are accentuated against the early evening light.

Cerberus notices him first, raising his giant, blocky head from his paws where he lays beside you next to the garden plot, ears erect. His thick tail thumps the ground-once, twice-at the sight of Chan and you glance up, following the dog's gaze.

Chan steps from the shadows, and the most gorgeous smile he's ever seen graces your features as soon as you catch sight of him.

It takes his breath away, and as you stand, brushing the dirt from the dress you wear, he thinks, not for the first time, that you're the most fucking beautiful thing he's ever had the pleasure of calling his own.

"Channie." You breathe sweetly, throwing your arms around his neck as he draws closer, burying your face in the juncture of his throat. "You're home."

"I am." He agrees, wrapping you tightly in his embrace, taking a moment to let his nose skim your hair, the smell of blossoms and springtime filling his senses.

You pull back, just enough to gaze up at him, and he lets his finger go beneath your chin, holding you there, so he can study and memorize, once again, every single intoxicating line of your features.

Your lips quirk into the start of a smile, as if you know what he's doing, but you don't say anything.

He's grateful for that.

"Did you have a good day?" You ask softly, your breath warm on his fingers, as he traces the part of your full, soft lips.

"Eh." He lifts one shoulder into a shrug and lets it fall back down heavily. "Not as good a day as I would've had staying here with you, little blossom."

You arch a brow, and he sees it, the stubborn expression wash across your face that lets him know you know he's trying to deflect.

You put your hands on your hips and stare him down, and he resists the urge to lean forward and kiss the tip of your nose.

Fuck, you're adorable.

"I heard Zeus came to see you."

"Is that so?" He questions, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he watches you hold your ground.

He leans forward, fingering one of the loose strands of hair that frames your face, before he lets his gaze dip to your throat, the golden chain you always wear dipping tantalizingly out of his line of sight where it disappears between the swell of your breasts.

"You're correct." He acquiesces, his fingers itching now to reach up and tug the chain free, so he can dangle the wedding ring he knows lies safely between your breasts between the two of you, just so he can remind himself who you belong to once more.

His dick swells at the thought.

He clears his throat, and brings his gaze reluctantly up to meet yours once more, noting the dark flash of stubbornness that washes across your eyes.

"However." He smirks now, stepping closer, letting his hand gently close around your throat, your pulse thready beneath his palm, like a fluttering bird beating against the bars of a cage. "I don't really want to talk about my brother right now, do you?"

He leans forward, and begins to suck kisses along the column of your throat, and you giggle, batting him away and stepping back before he can distract you further.

"Channie." You whine, putting your hands once again on the swell of your hips, and he thinks, not for the first time, that your delicious curves are going to be the death of him one day. "I'm serious."

He sighs, and tries to ignore the hardness of his eager dick between his thighs, knowing you're not going to let him off the hook-or let him fuck you dumb-until he's told you what Hyunjin wanted.

"Fine." He sighs again, and drops onto one of the many benches he had had installed in the garden solely for the purpose of watching you do what you love most.

You step toward him, and he opens his legs so you can slide between them, putting your hands on his shoulders as his fingers find your hips through the thin material of your dress.

"Tell me." You insist, staring down at him and Chan tilts his head back to look at you, arching a brow at your commanding tone.

"Goddess of Spring, are you really telling the Lord of the Underworld what to do?"

An amused smirk flickers across his lips at the look of exasperation that crosses your features.

You stick your tongue out at him, and he chuckles, tugging you to him. You protest a little, but let him do it anyway, burying his face into your stomach, the soft feel of your dress caressing his skin.

He breathes in your perfume, once, twice, and then leans back, meeting your gaze.

"Your mother is throwing a little temper tantrum it seems."

Your eyes widen minutely, and Chan sees your lips flatten into a determined, serious line.

"Because of our marriage?"

Chan gives a slight nod. "It would seem so."

One of your hands clenches into a tight, white knuckled fist at your side, and your chest stutters with a sharp intake of breath.

Beyond your shoulder, a vine springs to life, fraught with large thorns, curling around a nearby tree, up and up, tight enough to strangle the bark beneath its hold.

Cerberus raises his head, scenting the sudden unease in the air, and lets out a small whine.

You take in a deep breath, and the vine begins to slowly retract its hold on the tree.

"Little blossom." Chan murmurs, tugging you down onto his lap, and encircling you in the safety of his arms, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "It's nothing to worry about, I promise you. I'll handle it."

He feels you shake your head beneath his chin.

"You shouldn't have to handle it. She's my mother. I need to stand up to her."

Chan glances beyond you as Cerberus whines again, and sees the vine's thorns growing dangerously long with your distress, piercing through the trunk of the tree, cracking the bark into splinters.

"Pet." Chan warns quietly, nudging your chin in the direction of the destruction. "Take a deep breath."

You gasp, and let the air out on a long, shuddering breath, and the vine halts its upward progress almost instantly as you collapse against Chan, slumping into his chest.

He can hear the tears in your voice when you whisper, "I'm sorry."

His finger finds your chin again, and he raises your watery gaze to his own.

"Never, and I mean never, apologize for the power you hold, my love. For it will bring gods and mortals alike to their knees, and one day, when they all pass beyond this life, you will be known as their queen."

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"You know, it's usually easier to get into the palace through the front door."

The unfamiliar, male voice startled you and you lost your hold on the branch you were currently coaxing toward the palace wall, snatching it up again with a curse just in time to stop yourself from tumbling all the way back to the ground below.

"Fuck." You glared over your shoulder, down to the newcomer, but could only make out a tall, dark silhouette, cloaked in a hood.

The man tilted his head, as if he was looking up at you, and you swore you could feel his smirk even through the darkness.

"Yes, thank you for the advice." You snapped back with a huff, already reaching out for the next branch as your magic grew it down toward your outstretched fingers. "But I think I'll stick with this."

"Suit yourself, little blossom." The mystery man leaned against the thick trunk of the tree, and crossed his arms over his chest, staring out at gods knows what.

You paused, catching your breath, and glared down at him, even though you're sure he can't see you.

"Don't call me that."

You saw his chest rise and fall in a silent laugh. "Why?"

"Because." You huffed, reaching for another branch, out of breath as you work around the gods awful gown your mother had insisted you wear to visit Olympus. "I don't know you."

"Oh, but I think you do."

You paused to consider his words, racking your brain for anyone you knew in Olympus well enough to give you a nickname, and came up with no one. Your mother didn't let you visit often from the mortal realm.

"I don't." You insisted, standing up on your tiptoes to try and reach the top ledge of the wall.

You heard the man chuckle again as you stretched-up, up, up-and just as your fingers had grazed the cool marble, your foot slipped off its hold on the branch below, and you tumbled, shrieking, back down through the tree and toward the hard ground.

You closed your eyes, waiting for the impact, but it never came.

Cracking open one eye, you stared straight into the face of the mystery man, safe in the warm, strong curve of his arms.

His hood had fallen back in the act of catching you, and your eyes widened as you recognized the handsome face before you.

Fucking. Hades.

Brother of Zeus.

God of the Dead.

He grinned at you, and arched a brow, reiterating softly, "But you do."

Your heart did one sharp staccato against your ribcage, as he set you carefully to your feet, and stepped back, and almost instantly, you missed the warmth of his skin against your own.

"Thank you for saving me." You stuttered out, curtsying deeply, now that you had your wits about you.

He chuckled, staring at you as you straightened back up, and you hoped it was dark enough to hide the blush staining your cheeks.

"Oh, I have no worries that if I wasn't here, little blossom, you would have saved yourself."

He motioned upward with a jut of his chin, and you followed his gaze to the tree, gasping as you saw a thick, dark green vine wrapped around its bulbous trunk, stretching down from the palace wall and to the ground below, curling around your feet.

When you glanced back to the man before you, he was already pulling his hood back up over his face, ready to disappear back into the blackness.

"Wait!" You called out before you could think better of it, and he stopped, cocking his head.

You swallowed hard, and took a step toward him.

"Will I see you again, your highness?"

You swore he smiled beneath the hood.

"Call it what you will, Goddess of Spring-fate, destiny, the will of the gods-but I think you and I will be seeing each other again very soon. Very soon indeed."

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"You can't have her, you know."

Changbin took another long sip of his drink, cheeks already rosy, and followed Chan's hungry gaze across the room to you, standing close by your mother's side.

He simply shrugged when Chan turned to shoot him a glare.

"Her mother would never allow it. She hates your fucking guts. Not to mention-" He leaned over and lowered his voice, as if he was telling Chan a secret. He could smell the liqueur on the younger god's breath. "-the whole 'Underworld Ruling' thing."

Chan is saved from having to respond by the appearance of Minho, flute of champagne in hand, look of annoyed disgust on his face, as he slid past the hulking god beside Chan and took a seat on the duvet across from them.

His brother glanced dismissively at Chanbin, leaning back to take another long swallow of his drink.

"Nephew."

Changbin grinned and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Uncle."

Minho arched a brow and his nose wrinkled slightly in open distaste. "Do you ever not wear armor?"

Changbin grinned bigger, and slapped a loud palm to the armor fitted perfectly to his broad chest.

"Of course not! I'm the God of War. Always have to be ready for anything, Uncle. You know how it is."

"I'm sure I don't." Minho sniffed, raising his champagne delicately to his lips, and taking a tiny sip. "The Ocean does not concern itself with the dealings of mortals. Let alone their trivial pursuits of war."

Changbin merely shrugged, and stood, slapping a powerful hand to Chan's shoulder, which sent him jolting forward in his seat, rubbing his offended arm and glaring up once more at the towering figure of his nephew.

"I'm off to find another drink. And maybe a few maidens." Changbin announced, giving Minho a mock salute, as the man stared him down with annoyed disdain. "Take care, uncles."

And with that, he was gone.

Minho's gaze flitted to Chan, and he took another long, slow sip of his drink.

Chan felt his eyes unwittingly pulled back to the other side of the room, but you had disappeared from view, probably dragged off by your mother for more introductions.

"I'm surprised you came."

Chan let his gaze drift back to his brother across from him, and offered him a tilt of his head in acknowledgement, reaching for his own glass of forgotten champagne.

"Yes, well, that makes both of us. I'd hoped to not find myself at another one of these damned archaic, presumptuous affairs for another eon or so."

The corner of Minho's lip flickered with amusement, and his eyes roamed past Chan to the dozens of gods and demi gods currently mingling on the expanse of Hyunjin's vast dance floor.

"Our baby brother is good for very few things, and throwing amusing soirees is indeed not one of them."

Chan felt his own lips quirk into the hint of a smirk, and he raised his glass to Minho in silent salute.

Minho tilts his own champagne in response, and they both take a deep draft of the shimmering, bubbly liquid.

His brothers were hard to tolerate on the best of days, but he'd always felt like Minho understood him just a little bit more than Hyunjin ever had.

Standing, Chan places down the now empty glass and nods to Minho in farewell.

"I've made an appearance. Now it's time to take my leave."

Minho watched him in silence for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, and then with a flick of his fingers, he filled Chan's empty glass back up with water.

Chan stared at him, and he arched a brow.

"Drink some water before you go, brother. It'll help with the hangover tomorrow."

He sighed, reaching for the glass, and downed the water in one gulp.

"There. Happy?"

Minho's mouth flickered again. "Almost." He cocked his head, and let his gaze roam over Chan's body, as if he could see the way his muscles tensed, the way his mind swirled, already thinking about running into you on his way out.

When Chan went to move past him, Minho put an arm out, stopping him in his tracks.

"Careful, brother." Minho murmured, eyes dark and discerning, trapping him in place. "Interest is a fickle, fleeting thing, but obsession is fatal."

There was a beat of tense, deafening silence, Minho staring at him like he could see right through him.

Chan shook his head, and broke the spell.

"Thanks for the advice." Chan grunted, pushing past him without another glance, stalking toward the exit, not caring as he shouldered past the partygoers, earning himself a round of nasty looks.

The cold night air of Olympus embraced him as he pushed through the double doors and into the opulent garden beyond.

Unlike the swirling colors and lights and noise of the party inside, the garden was deserted at this time of night-dark and quiet and abandoned-just how he liked it.

Taking in a deep breath, holding it as the frigid air seared his lungs, Chan strode deeper into the garden, walking between the towering, shadowy rows of hedges, clearing his head.

The music had almost faded out of ear shot, when he heard it-a small, unfamiliar sound that immediately caught his attention.

He paused, freezing, and listening.

There it was again, just around the next bend, somewhere near the center of the hedge maze, beside the fountain he knew graced the large stone courtyard lined with benches hidden amongst the neatly trimmed foliage.

Taking another quiet step so he could round the corner, he heard it once more.

It almost sounded like-a gasp?

Chan came around the hedge quietly, on full alert, his footsteps silent, and as the fountain came into view, he caught sight of a figure leaning back on one of its edges on the other side, obscured through the haze of the water.

Another creeping step forward, still hidden by the shadows of the bushes, and the person came into view.

It was you-sitting on the marble edge of the fountain, dress hiked up around your knees, leaning forward as you focused on something intently.

Chan narrowed his eyes, trying to see what it was you were doing, and when he realized, as another little breathy moan left your lips and your wrist spasmed, he halted, feet suddenly leaden.

Gods above, you were touching yourself.

He should move, he should announce his presence, he should leave, he shouldn't be watching you in this very private, very vulnerable moment, but he can't seem to get himself to break the spell, watching you silently from the shadows of the hedge as you pleasure yourself.

You let out that sound again-a breathless sort of stifled release of breath-and Chan felt his dick start to swell in response, straining against the fine fabric of the slacks he wore.

You let your head fall back, eyes screwed closed, lips parted, as your fingers continue their work, and Chan's eyes are drawn to the way your chest heaves for breath, the perfect swell of your breasts straining against the corset you wear.

Suddenly, he can move again.

Stepping quietly from the shadows, he approached, moving to stand in front of you, and as if you could sense his sudden presence, his eyes on you, your eyelids fluttered open, your mouth forming a perfect 'o' of surprise as you caught sight of him.

"Y-your highness-" You stuttered out, cheeks immediately blooming pink, and Chan was enthralled by the way the rosy color spread rapidly down your chest.

You made a move to remove your fingers, tugging at your billowing skirts, but Chan held up a hand, his eyes meeting your own.

"No. Don't stop."

You froze, staring at him, wide eyed, like a fawn caught in the daylight, and he made an attempt to soften the gravel of his voice, repeating again, softer this time, "Keep going. Please."

You stared at him for another long moment, and he couldn't breathe, maybe you were going to run, maybe you were going to tell on him, what a pervert he'd been, maybe you were disgusted-

And then, slowly, eyes still holding his own, you let your fingers dip back beneath the folds of your gown.

He could tell the moment you made contact again, because your body stiffened, and that sound-the one that went right to his cock-passed your parted lips once more.

Chan watched you, mesmerized, as you let your fingers do the work, arching your body on the edge of the fountain to find the right angles, all the while, holding his gaze unwaveringly.

You were brave, he'd give you that.

You gasped, mouth falling open, and he saw the way your wrist twisted, picking up pace.

He imagined how wet you were, how easily your fingers slid in and out, and he clenched his hands at his side to keep himself in place, to force himself to let you be.

"What do you think about?" He asked suddenly, licking his lips, his mouth desperately dry.

"What-" You started to question, the words breaking off into a breathy moan that had him painfully hard, even harder than before.

He took a step closer.

"What do you think about? When you're getting yourself off?"

Your eyes had screwed closed as you grew closer to release, but you managed to flutter them back open to meet his gaze, your face twisted into the start pleasure, your fingers never stopping.

"You!" You gasped out desperately, chest heaving, free hand digging into the marble ledge of the fountain, fingers white with the effort of holding back.

Chan watched as you came then, crying out and body vibrating, and when the orgasm had finished ripping through you, you slumped back, breathing hard and cheeks flushed.

Pulling your hand from your skirts, Chan tried not to focus on the way your fingers glistened as you wiped them off on your dress.

He was rooted to the spot, watching you come down, cock aching and leaking down his leg, wishing he was the one who'd undone you so fully, when you finally met his gaze once more.

Your expression was unsure, lips pressed into a thin line, when you repeated softly, defeatedly, "You. I think about you."

You sat up, straightening your skirts with your clean hand, and Chan resisted moving closer to you with what very little willpower he had left.

You were biting your lip, staring at the ground between the two of you, when he conjured a trace of shadow, using it to caress your chin and tilt your gaze back up to meet his.

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, your skin pebbling into goosebumps beneath the touch of the shadow, but you didn't move, you didn't look afraid.

Chan felt the corner of his mouth lift into the hint of a smile as he let the shadow trace your cheekbone, brushing back a loose strand of damp hair into your elegant braid.

"You know, little blossom, my brothers say you're a problem."

Your eyes widened a little more, and then a flash of indignation crossed your pretty features.

"Why?"

Chan cocked his head, studying you, and you stared right back.

"Because I want you, but I can't have you. And I tend to have a fatal flaw of getting obsessive over things that are kept from my grasp."

He flicked away the shadow with his fingers, burying his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he let the words settle between you.

His dick was still unyieldingly hard.

Your lips parted slightly, as if surprised by his admission, and then a brief, mischievous smile flashed across your lips, catching him off guard.

You tilted your head, and your lips quirked upward into a bigger, sweeter smile.

"Your highness?"

"Yes?"

You hopped down from the ledge of the fountain, and found your shoes, slipping your feet into them as he watched, waiting for you to continue.

When you stepped toward him, closing the distance, he resisted every urge to grab you and slot his mouth hungrily over yours.

You looked up at him curiously, studying his features, your eyes large and dark, framed by the longest eyelashes he had ever seen.

When you finally spoke, your voice was quiet, as if you were telling him a secret only known to the two of you.

"What do you think about when you come?"

He stared at you, trying to put the words with the movement of your lips.

Finally, he swallowed, watching your eyes flit down to follow the movement of his throat.

"You."

"Hm." You hummed beneath your breath, lips twitching, as you finally slipped past him, headed back in the direction of the party.

Chan whirled, watching you go, and as if you could feel his eyes on you, you turned and paused when you reached the hedges, fingers trailing over the dark, emerald leaves, leaving shining pink flowers behind in their wake.

"Interesting." You arched a brow, giving him a half, knowing smile. "And here I was, thinking my little obsession was one sided."

Chan let a shadow slink from the hedge beside you and trail around one of your ankles.

You grinned at him once more, and slipped silently from view.

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Chan steps off the elevator and is immediately met with the largest bouquet of flowers he's ever seen, shoved directly into his face.

He swats them away with annoyance, and the person carrying the atrocity comes into view, panting like they've just carted weighted rocks up the floors of the building and not obnoxiously perfumed flowers.

"Oh, hey boss." Jeongin beams, adjusting the vase of flowers in his arms, so that he can reach up and push the cap he wears back slightly, revealing a sweaty swath of dark hair.

"I got you flowers!" He holds up the arrangement, as if Chan can't see them, and follows him when he stalks past him toward his private office.

Setting the bouquet down on the front desk as they pass, flashing Chan's assistant a winning smile, Jeongin hurries to keep up with Chan's long strides, floating slightly above the floor.

"Well, Persephone did, technically, but you know, she asked me to give them to you so-"

Chan ignores the chattering messenger god beside him, and turns a left down the hall, already silently going over the meetings he has scheduled for today in his head.

Turning another corner, he's just about to push into conference room two, when Jeongin slides in front of him, spreading his arms out to block his way and trying to catch his breath.

"Whoa, boss. You can't go in there."

Chan stares the kid down, expression stoic.

"Jeongin. Get out of my way."

Jeongin doesn't budge, though Chan can see a flicker of fear flash across his dark gaze as he stands in front of Chan's looming, annoyed figure.

He reaches up, scratching at the back of his neck in clear discomfort, and shuffles from one winged foot to another.

"Okay, but here's the thing-" He starts, hemming and hawing, glancing past Chan and to the hallway, then back to the god standing in front of him.

"Jeongin." Chan warns, beginning to think there's something going on that he doesn't know about, and nothing pisses him off more than to be oblivious.

Jeongin clears his throat and gives him a half hearted smile. "Persephone kinda asked me to keep you out of the conference room today because she's kindameetingwithhermomtodiscussthingswithoutyou."

Chan stares blankly at the boy in front of him, wringing his hat now between anxious hands, and then asks quietly, dangerously, "She what?"

Jeongin swallows, the gulp is audible in the tense silence, but still holds his position blocking Chan from the doorway.

It's admirable, he'll give him that.

He gives a little shrug and a sheepish smile. "Sorry, boss?"

Chan growls beneath his breath in frustration, and pinches his nose.

He can feel a headache coming on.

"Fine." He grinds out, the muscles in his jaw popping with his irritation as he clenches his teeth and glances past Jeongin to the waiting conference room. "But you're to come and get me as soon as they're finished." He points a stern finger into the middle of Jeongin's chest. "And Demeter is not, I repeat not, allowed to be alone at any time while she's in the Underworld, understood?"

Jeongin nods and gives him a little salute, even as Chan is already stalking away.

"Yes, sir!" He calls out down the hallway, voice echoing off the walls and exacerbating Chan's growing headache. "I won't let you down, boss! You can count on me!"

Chan mumbles something beneath his breath about hiring new wingmen, and locks himself in his office.

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Chan doesn't get to see you for the rest of the day.

The hours slip by, and he's faced with problem after problem-mortal souls unhappy with their judgement, wraiths he employs needing his every attention and signature, accountants wanting to see him about the toll to cross the Styx ('inflation is happening you know!')-and by the time he finally gets home, well after sunset, his every muscle is tight with irritation.

He walks in to see you in the kitchen, apron tied tightly around your waist, Cerberus at your feet, dozing with his head on his huge paws.

The dog gives a thump of his tail when Chan appears, alerting you to his presence, and you glance up from whatever it is you're chopping, giving him a wide, bright smile.

He's not fooled. It doesn't reach your eyes.

Pushing aside the monstrous bouquet from earlier that now resides in the middle of the giant, granite island that takes up a majority of the kitchen, he raps his knuckles on the stone, watching you carefully, his head cocked.

"I heard your mother stopped by today."

He watches the way your chopping stalls, but you don't look up at him, chest inflating with a silent breath before you turn, tossing the carrots into the large stew pot on the stove.

"Yes." You finally say, back still to him.

He tries to force the irritation simmering just below the surface down, relaxing his whitened fingers one by one, as he blows out a long, slow breath.

"(Y/N)."

You turn then, at the use of your given name said in his stern tone, and resume cutting, chopping blocks of beef into smaller cubes.

Chan blows out another breath, harsher this time, and rubs at his temple.

The headache from before is still lingering, pounding now that he's finally left the office for the day.

"What did you talk about?"

You flick your eyes briefly up to his, and then back to the meat beneath your knife.

"Her 'temper tantrum' as I believe you put it."

Chan winces slightly. That wording probably didn't go over very well.

"And?" He prods, leaning against the counter, leaning down so he can glance into your face.

You bite your lip, and he sees you blow out a breath, before you look up at him and force that smile back onto your face-the fake, overly saccharine one from before, the one he doesn't buy for a moment.

"Do we really need to talk about this right now? You just got home, and dinner is almost ready-"

Chan flattens his hands, palms down, on the cold granite, and doesn't let you look away.

"Yes."

Your fingers tighten around the knife, and he sees you let out a shuddering breath.

At your feet, Cerberus cocks his head, your obvious display of uncertainty grabbing his attention.

"Channie-" You start to say, and he watches the way your throat bobs with a swallow.

Anger swirls into embers in the pit of his stomach.

He leans forward, dark eyes flashing. "What did she fucking do? If she so much as made you feel bad for any of this, I won't hesitate to pay her a little visit in the mortal realm-"

"No, no." You wave your hands, finally meeting his gaze once more, your bottom lip wobbly and your eyes shiny. "It's nothing like that."

Chan feels his heart immediately sink.

A tear drips down the length of your cheekbone, and he resists the urge to lean across the counter and swipe it away.

You rub at your eyes with your hands, and breath in an unsteady inhale.

Cerberus stands, butting his blocky head into your hand, until you let out a slight, watery chuckle, and begin to pet his dark ears.

"She-" You start to say, then stop, and Chan stares at you, frozen in sudden fear.

The flowers sitting in their vase on the counter begin to wilt and turn brown and brittle, dropping leaves to the granite like snow fall.

Chan ignores them.

You take in another breath, and pick the knife back up, moving to chop again.

"She wants to make a deal. She wants me to spend Spring in the mortal realm, with her, so I can fulfill my duties every year. And then I'll stay here, with you, the rest of the time."

You look up at him, your expression vulnerable, unsure. There's hurt in your eyes.

Chan's thoughts stop. His body goes cold. There's a buzzing in his ears, and he doesn't know if the shadows are lengthening, or if his sudden loss of control is causing everything to creep in.

He turns, and without a word, flicks a shadow out to send the vase of now withered flowers crashing to the ground.

You yelp, jumping at the noise, and Chan stands, back to you, staring at the mess he's made, chest heaving, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

The mess he always makes.

After a beat of silence, he hears you put down the knife, and then your soft footsteps, as you pad around the counter and kneel on the ground next to the shattered vase.

Slowly, without looking at him, you reach out and begin to pick up the broken pieces.

Chan breathes in, breathes out. His headache is pounding.

"Little blossom, leave it-"

He starts to say, moving to crouch before you, just as you pick up another piece of sharp ceramic and wince, instantly dropping the piece back down with a clatter, as you pull your hand back against your chest.

Chan reaches out and tugs your hand back into view, watching as the cut on your palm starts to slowly leak golden, shining ichor down the line of your wrist, dripping on the floor between the two of you.

His breath stalls as he glances up to your pained expression, all the anger leaving his body in an instant.

"You're bleeding."

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"You're bleeding."

Chan glanced up at the sound of your voice behind him, meeting your concerned gaze in the mirror, where he remained, leaning over the basin, palms on the cool ledge of the sink, watching the water swirl away down the drain.

"Yeah, well-" He gave a little humorless chuckle as he watched the water shimmer with the ichor he washed from his knuckles, before he straightened and dried his hands, glancing once more at you in the reflection of the mirror. His mouth quirked up into the hint of a smirk, and he winced as it pulled at the split skin of his lip, tasting fresh ichor on his tongue. "-luckily for me, my brother hits like a pussy when he's been drinking."

Your eyes widened. "He hit you?"

Chan turned, swiping a hand across his mouth now, tossing the towel to the side. "Yeah, well, I probably deserved it."

He'd no more than finished the admission than you're at his side, taking his hand in yours, your eyes raking across the golden liquid that marked his knuckles, tacky and congealing.

You glanced up at him, curiosity flashing across your pretty features.

"What did you do?" You questioned in a whisper, as if asking him to divulge a dark secret.

Chan almost grinned-you're too fucking adorable-but he leaned in, his forehead brushing yours, expression serious, and lowered his voice to match yours.

"I told him, little blossom, that there's no way in fucking Tartarus that I'm going to another one of his stupid, historic parties, unless of course, it's thrown for us and planned in celebration of our marriage."

You stared up at him for a silent moment, and Chan almost backtracked, wondering if he'd been too bold, when a slight smile curved your lips up mischievously.

"Well." You released his hand and straightened the collar of the suit he wore, before stepping back, eyeing him up and down, head cocked with interest.

The look on your face took his breath away.

"Then I guess you'd better get me a ring, hadn't you?"

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Chan slips your ring carefully from your finger, lying it beside the sink, before he tends to the wound on your palm.

You protest the whole time, claiming it's fine and you're fine and he's being dramatic, but Chan's heart won't stop pounding in his chest until every last drop of your golden blood is wiped clean from your skin.

When he's satisfied with himself, he helps you get down from your position atop the bathroom counter, and pushes you gently toward the waiting shower.

"I'll just be a minute." He says, as you roll your eyes, but strip your clothes anyway, waiting before he hears the water turn on, before he darts back to the kitchen.

He cleans up the mess he made in his anger, and goes back to the bathroom.

He watches you for a moment, through the steamy, hazed glass surrounding the large shower, your perfect outline stretched back beneath the pounding water, and then gets rid of his own clothes, tossing his suit to the side, before he slips into the shower to join you.

You glance at him over your shoulder as he enters, wet hair plastered to your skin, lips pulled into a worried pout.

"Channie-" You start to say, but he steps to you and pulls you flush against his bare chest before you can get any of the other words out.

Your arms go around his waist, fingers tickling the skin of his back, and he lets out a long, slow breath, the exhale rustling your hair, your face buried in the planes of his chest.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes softly, and you pull back to look up at him, eyes wide and soft.

"You don't need to apologize." You say, reaching up to shove some of his thick, dark hair back off his forehead, starting to grow heavy with water.

"I do." He nods, staring down at you, letting his finger go beneath your chin, as he traces the line of your lips with the pad of his thumb.

You're so fucking beautiful.

"You're my wife, yes, but you're also a Goddess, and I need to remember that."

You stare up at him silently, letting him continue, and he lets out another breath, reaching his hand up to cup the side of your face, your skin warm beneath his fingers.

"You have your own duties and responsibilities, and I'm being selfish keeping you here. I can't hide you away forever."

The corner of your mouth wrinkles, as if you're thinking about smiling.

"Are you sure?" You nuzzle into his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.

"As much as I would like to-" He starts, leaning over to press a kiss to the corner of your lips, moving up along your cheekbone. "-I can't. The mortals-and Demeter-need you."

You sigh, he feels it in the way your chest brushes his, and lay your head on his chest, listening for a moment, to his heartbeat.

He strokes your damp hair, and finally you say quietly, "All right. But I don't have to like it, right?" You pull back, looking up at him with a tremble in your bottom lip.

"No, you don't, little blossom." He gives you a half smile, bending his head to press a kiss to your throat, than to the swell of the start of your breast. His cock twitches at the feel of your soft skin beneath his tongue. "I'm sure as fuck not going to like it."

You give a little laugh, slightly watery, and reach up to swipe the tears from your eyes.

"What will you do?" You ask with a shaky breath, staring up at him in a way that makes Chan's heart squeeze, his insides feel tight with all the love he has for you. "While I'm gone?"

He gives a slight shrug, leaning against the shower wall, as you move to start shampooing your hair into a lather.

"Run the Underworld. Judge the mortals. The usual stuff. I mean, what did I do before I had you?"

"Brood." You reply back instantly, glancing at him cheekily over your shoulder as you turn to rinse your hair.

He leaps forward and pins you to the wall as you shriek, tickling your sides as you wriggle to get away from him, laughing so hard it makes you breathless.

He pulls back, letting you breathe, and you push some wet hair from your face, taking in a couple of calming breaths, before your eyes meet his once more.

The mirth disappears from your pretty features, and Chan feels his chest tighten.

"Seriously though, Channie, I-" You swallow, Chan watches your throat bob, and your eyes grow shiny again. "-I don't know how I lived all those eons without you. And now, to have to leave-"

"Hey, hey." He steps toward you once more, caging you in the protection of his arms beneath the warm spray of water. You bury your face in his chest. "Pet. Look at me."

Finally, you do, raising watery eyes to his, and he gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

"Listen to me, little blossom." He reaches up, stroking your hair behind your ear. "We're talking about months here. Just a few months topside, to soothe your mother, and then you'll be back home with me before you know it."

You sniff, swiping at your nose, and then nod.

"You're right. I know you are."

Chan gives you a half smile, gentle and soft, and leans down to press a kiss to the part of your lips.

The thought of you leaving his side is ripping him apart, but he manages to keep his expression neutral, if only for you.

He presses another, longer kiss against the column of your throat, and takes a moment to breathe you in.

"I love you. I always have, even before I knew you, even before I saw you, and nothing, and no one, will ever change that. You are, and always will be, my obsession, Goddess of Spring."

You look up at him with tear filled eyes, and lean up to press a kiss to his own lips.

"I love you too, God of the Dead. You're the only thing in my entire, immortal days that has ever managed to bring my heart to life, and I thank you for it."

A genuine smile tugs at Chan's lips now.

"Ironic, coming from the Goddess of Rebirth about the Ruler of Souls."

You give a little laugh, eyes sparkling as you look up at him. "I guess so."

Chan tugs you to him and, determined to memorize how you feel, kisses you long and hard beneath the cooling water of the shower.

Inside his chest, his heart flicks out a shadow to meet the flowering vine snaking from your own.

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"Do you think we're all fated to another?"

You ask, lying beside Chan on the grass, the cool night breeze kissing patterns across your bare skin.

He turns his head to look at you, staring up at the stars overhead, fingers twined within his own.

The ring on your finger brushes his knuckle, and a warm sensation washes over him at the thought that you're his now-for eternity.

"Isn't that mortal shit?" He asks teasingly, and you turn to give him a glare, but it only succeeds in making him more endeared, your nose crinkling up and your lips pursing.

"Well, yes, but-" You shrug, turning back to the sky, reaching up your free hand to splay your fingers against the backdrop of the shimmering stars. "-do you?"

Chan considers.

He's never put much stock in fate, or destiny, or anything else the mortals believe in, and he says as much, rolling over to look at you, his hand skimming your bare hip.

"I don't know. But what I do know is this." He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at you, where you lie, watching him, from the grass.

He lets his finger trail over the marks of his teeth blooming on your shoulder, the love bites already turning purple up the column of your throat, soothed by his tongue.

"Fate is fickle, I don't like to rely on it. Fuck, sometimes, I don't even think I can rely on myself, but I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you and I, little blossom? We were meant to be. And nobody, not fate or any of that other shit that mortals believe in, made that happen. We did."

He watches you as you pause, considering, and then you give him a smile that steals his breath, sitting up beside him to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

"Fuck fate." You breathe against his lips, and right now, in this moment, with your skin pressed against his, your warmth settled firmly in his lap, his ring on your finger, Chan thinks he has to agree.

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Chan trips over one of Cerberus' toys and gives the big dog a glare, tucked safely away under the kitchen table, his head on his paws.

"I swear to god, your mom is coming home today, and if she sees the state you left this house in-" He threatens vaguely, waving the toy around, before tossing it into the basket in the corner.

"I'll what?"

Chan whirls so fast at the sound of your amused voice that he almost gives himself whiplash, turning to face you in the doorway, a grin on your lips and your suitcase in your hand.

You give him a little wave, suddenly shy, as he continues to stare at you, rooted to the spot.

"Hi?"

He's moving then, crashing into you and sweeping you up into his arms with such force that you lose your breath, dropping your suitcase to the floor, as he pulls you in tight to his chest.

You're laughing and crying, and Chan breathes you in, nose pressed to the top of your head, like he's a starving man seeing food for the first time.

You pull back, just enough to smooth your palms over the side of his face, your eyes still shiny with unshed tears.

"I missed you, Channie."

"Fuck." He breathes out, crushing you back to him again, never letting you go. "I missed you too, little blossom."

You laugh again, a watery sound, and press kisses to every inch of his face you can reach from his embrace.

Chan feels like he can finally breathe properly for the first time in months.

"What did you think about while I was gone?" You ask, your eyes sparkling, as if you already know the answer.

He lets out the breath he's been holding, and leans forward to kiss you breathless.

"You." He breathes back in response, and your lips part with pleasure at his answer. "Always you."

And then he kisses you long enough to make up for all the time missed-past and present.

[obeymematches]

very fluffy and in depth hcs of a mc that basically lives off of cuddles? if you dont wanna do all of them can you only do lucifer, mammon, beel & diavolo? its fine if you dont wanna write this request tho! <3

i just need to snuggle up with them and maybe receive a forehead kiss yknow?

(also its def not bc of their man boobs wdym..)

thank you baby for sending in this ask, writing it cleared my skin and watered my plants- 💐🌸🌻

also your taste in men is very good 💯💯💯

this just teeth rotting fluff. GN MC.

❤️Cuddling HCs❤️

Lucifer:

Cuddling can only happen at night / the evening. Even on the weekends he is too busy to be cuddling during the day.

When you get in bed next to him he usually smells like coffee & sweat ngl. At first he does try to hide it with a nice expensive perfume but it might be best to cuddle after taking a shower.

He loves it if you curl up against him, laying your head on his chest. He is surprisingly gentle with his strokes in your hair!

He prefers not to talk or just very short I love yous are accepted. This is his calming, recharging moment.

His arms are strong as he puts them behind your back, or under your head if that's what you prefer. His weakness is stroking his head between his ears and forehead.

He is very glad to kiss your forehead without you having to ask! He is actually very affectionate if he is with you, and only you! Prefers holding one of your hands the entire time.

My love... Holding you in my arms in this moment makes me feel tranquil. As if nothing could ever go wrong again... I am aware it only lasts such a short time... I'm truly sorry we can't do this more often. Can you forgive me, my dearest?

Mammon:

Here is some Mams cuddles

Beelzebub:

Cuddling Beelzebub feels like the most natural thing. You fit just right under his arms, his legs. He can go on like this for hours. Nothing else has to happen and he is the most content demon in the world.

Being so close to him makes you realize he smells like deodorant and grass.

Likes to eat as you cuddle! Always brings you your favourite snacks! He can fall asleep very quickly like this though. Please just stroke his back he is going to melt into your touch.

He is going to kiss you with his hand holding yours to the bed. He kisses you very passionately, towering over you, using his tongue as he should; gluttony gets the best of him.

Very gentle with you the entire time. Carefully moves every inch of his body not to hurt you.

If you decide to lay too far away from him he just sweeps you right where you should be; entirely next to him!

Skin on skin contact is very important for him, pls don't wear too many clothes!!

I'm stronger now, but I can grow even more if you stay by my side. I'll do everything to support you, and I hope you will continue to support me too. I love you. So very deeply. Thank you for being here with me.

Diavolo:

I just think he enjoys being the little spoon. He can be the tiniest little spoon if he wants to!!

Loves to talk. This is no time to be quiet for more than 5 minutes. Something always comes to his mind which he wants to share.

His smell from up close isn't so easy to describe; it's a lingering smell of expensive parfume but also pine tree.

Can and will cuddle you in the afternoon if he/you needs it. Tea time can buzz off this is 300% better.

Talks about how nice it was to Barbatos. Poor Barb doesn't know how to react to this information.

Ah he definitely plays with the blanket; he likes to tuck you in real well, sometimes pull it over your head and kiss you in the dark.

Tickle fights are inevitable if you cuddle for too long. (He doesn't want to let you go pee but you must. So you tickle him.)

Sometimes he can forget how heavy he is though and if he falls asleep while on top of you, you'll be sore by the time he wakes up.

Ah just imagine the pure joy in his eyes the entire time.... sigh

My darling y/n... You are my most precious treasure in the entire world. You enchant and fascinate me, and each day, you ignite me.

[enchantedwitchling]

Witchcraft and Self-Care: Nurturing Your Mind, Body, and Spirit

Witchcraft is not just a craft; it's a path that intertwines with our daily lives. Amid the spells and rituals, it's vital to remember that self-care is a cornerstone of our practice. By nurturing our minds, bodies, and spirits, we empower ourselves to be more effective witches and resilient individuals.

In this blog post, we'll delve into "Witchcraft and Self-Care: Nurturing Your Mind, Body, and Spirit," exploring the importance of self-care and suggesting rituals and practices to help you flourish on your magical journey.

🌟✨

1. Grounding and Centering 🌳🌌

Start your self-care journey with grounding and centering. Take a moment each day to connect with the Earth. Stand barefoot on the ground, feeling the energy of the Earth rise through you. Meditate, visualize roots extending from your body into the soil, anchoring you to the Earth's nurturing energy.

2. Daily Affirmations 🧘‍♀️🌟

Affirmations are powerful tools for nurturing a positive mindset. Each morning, recite affirmations that align with your intentions. These affirmations reinforce your sense of self-worth, strength, and resilience. For example, "I am powerful," "I am loved," or "I am in control of my destiny."

3. Bath Rituals 🛁🌸

A soothing bath can work wonders for your well-being. Infuse your bathwater with Epsom salt, lavender, or rose petals. As you soak, visualize any stress or negativity melting away, leaving you refreshed and renewed. This simple practice can be profoundly healing.

4. Moon Meditation 🌕🧘‍♂️

Harness the energy of the moon to nurture your spirit. During the Full Moon, find a quiet space outdoors, and meditate beneath its radiant glow. Visualize the moon's energy filling you with light, cleansing away any emotional burdens, and empowering you for the month ahead.

5. Herbal Tea Ritual ☕🌿

Create a mindful tea ritual using your favorite herbs. As you brew and sip your tea, focus on the sensations and flavors. Allow the warmth of the tea to envelop you, bringing comfort and serenity. This practice can also enhance your connection with herbal magic.

6. Journaling 📓🖋️

Keep a magical journal to record your thoughts, experiences, and spellwork. Journaling is not only cathartic but also a powerful way to track your progress, uncover patterns, and celebrate your successes. Use it as a tool for self-reflection and growth.

7. Self-Compassion 💖🌈

Practice self-compassion in your daily life. Be gentle with yourself, just as you would with a close friend. Understand that setbacks are part of growth, and mistakes are opportunities to learn. By nurturing self-compassion, you'll foster resilience and inner strength.

🌟✨

As witches, our practice is a reflection of our inner and outer worlds. By prioritizing self-care, we infuse our craft with authenticity and power. Remember that you are the most important tool in your magical toolkit, and by nurturing your mind, body, and spirit, you become a beacon of light in the world.

So, let's embrace self-care as an essential aspect of witchcraft. By nurturing ourselves, we empower our magic and cultivate a deeper connection with the universe.

🌿🌟✨

[gojostan-doodles]

Local farmer/ florist, Amari Vaughn 🌸💐

As a human/ demon hybrid, Amari is gifted with immense physical abilities. When she was a kid, it was very common for her to accidentally break things since she didn't know her own strength. But her affinity for flowers encouraged her to learn how to be delicate with her hands. She realized early on that she wanted to be a florist one day. During her developmental years, she was discreetly monitored by her parents, who looked for other signs of her having supernatural powers. They were relieved to learn that Amari was as normal as everyone else (for the most part). Because of that, they opted out of telling her that she was half demon, thinking that it would only be a source of stress for her if she knew.

Amari grew up in the city without much trouble. She played a lot of sports when she was in school, but it didn't interest her that much. She enjoyed taking care of plants, but found it hard to pursue that kind of work in the city. It's too much of a concrete jungle, y'know? So for a while she gave up on the idea.

Amari worked at a construction company for about 2 years before deciding to go after the life she actually wanted. So she packed her things and took a bus ride to Pelican Town, moving into the farmhouse her grandfather left for her. Settling in took some time, but Amari adjusted to her new lifestyle. She felt right at home surrounded by lots of nature.

But of course, Stardew Valley is a really weird place. So it wasn't long before she encountered the junimos, and later Rasmodius. The "tea" she drank from the wizard not only gave her the ability to communicate with the junimos, but also unlocked her dormant supernatural abilities. She immediately gained a white streak in her hair, and while in a disoriented state, accidentally set herself ablaze and fecking collapsed 💀 Reasonably stunned, the wizard puts out her fire with magic. When she finally wakes up he apologizes, telling her that he'll look into what went wrong and report back to her as soon as he can.

In the meantime, Amari tried to return to her life as a farmer, only to be met with a new set of problems. She struggled with burning her own crops (and many, many other items). During full moons, she would undergo a physical transformation, forcing her to stay home since she stood out like a sore thumb. So yeah, her first year really sucked 🥹 It was clear by her transformation that she was half demon, but it was later confirmed by Rasmodius. Amari was really confused and angry when faced with the reality that her parents didn't bother to tell her something so important.

Things eventually got better though. Over time she figured out that being stressed causes her to combust, so she ended up burning things less often. She made a lot of lovely friends in town too, some who turned out to be just as odd as her. It was really nice knowing she wasn't alone. And eventually she married Sebastian, so things were really great for a change!

About a year into their marriage someone new showed up to the farm, a demon named Uruz. Turns out he and a few others where tasked with searching different realms in order to find Lord Wynn. He's Amari's father, and the king of the demon realm. Uruz accidentally found Amari because her aura is the same as Wynn's (and since it was the night of a full moon, it was more intense). When Uruz learned that Amari knew nothing about her powers, he took it upon himself to stay and teach her everything she needed to know. Apprehensive at first, Amari eventually agreed after talking it over with Sebastian. She felt like she couldn't rely on her dad to tell her anything. So she decided to take this as an opportunity to learn everything, about herself and the demon realm. So currently there's a menace living on their farm that they have to keep in check 😭

Since Amari is only half demon, the abilities and traits she inherited from her dad is a mystery. So when she learns about how long demons usually live, she becomes incredibly anxious about her future. But she tries not to think about it.

[shadowflorecita]

Elain x Azriel

This dazzling art is by my wonderful, skilled, hardworking friend @moshimoichi, and I am so thankful for the time & care she dedicated in creating this beautiful commission for me.

Please do not repost, reblogs are welcome & appreciated! 🖤🌸

Below the cut is a little ficlet to accompany this sweet moment.

𖥧⚘𖤣𖡼

The sunlight was a steady stream, gilding the cottage in a summer morning radiance. Sparrows sang their cheerful melody as they flitted from branch to branch of the fruit trees, more birds joining in the chorus as they awakened.

Elain and Azriel had created a shared routine to rise early and witness the sunrise together. Sometimes they were tangled in each other, all tousled hair and sheets askew, watching the daybreak from the windows of their bedroom. Sometimes they were on the balcony cuddled in comfortable silence. And sometimes they shared Elain's favorite meal of the day in the garden. The most important meal, as she often reminded the Shadowsinger.

It wasn't a previous habit for Azriel to take time to eat slowly and savor a breakfast. Aside from official court gatherings or traditional family dinners, he usually had his meals on the go; quick and fuss-free. Boiled and peeled eggs, slices of toast, links of sausage, anything that could be eaten within a short amount of time or as he flew to his destinations.

Since spending more time with Elain, he found he rather enjoyed a moment to sit down with her for a meal. He indulged in her quiches and pastries, sweet and savory alike. The creations she orchestrated in the kitchen were some of the most delicious food he had ever tasted. He delighted in settling beside Elain, her eyes wandering his face, gauging his reactions to her cooking. They often mirrored each other's expressions, communicating in their secret language.

Azriel helped himself to the food on his plate, chewing slowly and luxuriating in the buttery flavors. He was fully armored today, prepared for a swift reconnaissance mission with Cassian. They would scout the coasts of the mortal lands, keeping a lookout for any odd activity, armed to the teeth and prepared for anything. Especially after the events earlier in the Spring with Briallyn and Koschei. If all went well, Azriel would reassign his spies back to the lands to remain as the Night Court's eyes and ears, ready to report if trouble transpired.

Beside him, with her legs draped lazily over his lap as she leaned against the bench with Azriel's free arm around her, Elain sipped her tea. She reveled in the nearness of him. It was not long ago that Elain had stormed into Rhysand's office on an early morning just like this one. The light of dawn was still peeking into the windows of the river house study when Elain threw open the doors, prowled to Rhysand's desk, her teeth bared with fury and demanded that the high lord understand that she had every right to gift her affections to whom she wanted. Without his unwelcome scheming.

Feyre and Rhysand had froze then. A stack of parchments fell from Feyre's hands all over the desk and Elain would forever remember the panicked look on Rhys's face once Feyre whirled and began snarling at him, viciously recalling Rhysand's own promise that Elain would be wholly protected in Velaris should she choose to reject the suppressive cauldron forged bond.

There were countless times Elain had been thankful to Feyre and filled with pride for her sister's tenacity for justice, but this moment immediately became one of her favorites. Feyre was a mother now, and the protective essence of an irate wild bear shone in her eyes and the scrunch of her nose. The image would remain in Elain's memory for the rest of her immortal life.

Elain triumphantly left the study and took the appropriate course of action with Lucien that very day to formally reject the bond. Lucien was... thankfully relieved. Elain had known that Lucien had a blossoming love of his own for the red haired human queen Vassa, but Elain would no longer politely wait for him to gather the courage to take action. She was an Archeron, and trembling fawn aside, like her sisters, she was also a fanged beast. The resolve to fight for what she desired for herself was enough for Elain to bravely face all consequence and cost.

It was a liberation, for that odd and misplaced link to go permanently dark. She understood the lifeless thread would always remain, but she felt like she wholly belonged to herself once again. Lucien took Elain by surprise by declaring an everlasting oath to never call in a blood duel against anyone Elain chose to spend her life with. She in turn, graced him with thanks and blessings for his own journey of the heart. Afterward, Elain immediately went to Azriel, explaining her actions, her heart, and her wish to never leave his side. If he would allow it.

The teacup clinking against the ceramic plate tugged Elain from her memories as Azriel finished the last of his tea. She had particularly enjoyed learning how he liked his tea- cinnamon bark and orange peel was his usual brew. He was also fond of peppermint.

"Regretfully, it is time I must be off."

The pair stood from the bench, their dishes whisked inside the cottage by Azriel's shadows. Elain was pleased that he had helped himself to two servings of quiche. She brushed off the crumbs from his polished plackhart into the graveled path. He was the epitome of a heroic and unvanquished knight, his dark armor and fastened weapons at a complimentary contrast with the bright, delicate blooms of their garden.

Azriel peered down at her, his inky curls brushing against his brows in the way Elain was so fond of. She reached up to run her fingers through it, overwhelmed with the need to always be touching him. Azriel beamed, pulling her into his arms and kissed her reverently on the soft skin of her earlobe. Then both cheeks, her chin, her lips, ending his affectionate conquest by softly nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers. Elain shuddered at his touches, the feel of home as his mouth and scarred hands roved over her. She peered into his hazel eyes, the colors glittering the way sunshine dances upon the surface of the Sidra.

So long ago this moment felt like an impossible dream yet here it was, real and palpable and hers. Elain's heart fluttered with gratitude and awe as she stroked Azriel's strong jaw, the tiniest prickles scrubbing her palm.

Azriel read the thoughts reflected in her eyes, felt them in the special way he was always able to. His hands squeezed her waist, pressing his lips to hers. Hesitant to pull away, his wings lightly enveloped them, the sun now peeking over his broad shoulders.

"I miss you already. I will think of you every moment until I see you again" he murmured.

Elain chuckled, a roll of her eyes and subtle shake of the head "You won't be gone long, I will see you for dinner! I hope everything goes well."

Azriel grinned, his hidden dimples revealing themselves. "Whether I am away for an hour or a full day or a month, you are always on my mind Elain. You and that lovely smile of yours. I will see you this evening."

Elain's expression was soft, her doe-like eyelashes fluttering "Until then" she said.

"Until then" Azriel nodded, and after one last kiss to her hand, took a few steps down the garden path and launched himself into the sky, the breeze from his wings caressing her. As he flew into the clouds to meet his brother, Elain scattered a silent "Be safe, my darling" to the winds.

--✿--

Thank you for reading! A very special thank you to @tealeaves-and-rosepetals for helping with proofreading & edits, I really appreciate your endless kindness and encouragement!

Feliz año nuevo friends 💕

[little-doll-of-glass]

Period Relief for Littles:

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Something I don't see talked about is period relief for age regressors, so I decided to write what helps me. Hopefully, this will help you too!

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Raspberry Leaf Tea:

I have really bad cramps and I've found this helps a lot. It's a nice warm drink, which I find soothing. It doesn't taste like raspberries, unfortunately, but I do like the taste.

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Mint Tea:

This helps my nausea and once again, it's a warm drink I find soothing. It helps my nausea and makes it so I don't have to take as many meds.

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Fluids:

Keeping your fluids up is very important because it helps reduce many of the symptoms and clots. Avoid anything that is a diuretic (it'll make you pee more) and try to drink some things with electrolytes in it. I personally like liquid IV for the electrolytes, but Gatorade and other such drinks works too!

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McDonald's Chocolate Shake & Fries:

Okay, so this one isn't necessarily helpful. I just get cravings for salt and magnesium, so this helps knock those cravings out. Plus, it's a nice treat that I don't get very often.

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Heating Pad:

When my tummy hurts really bad, I pull out my heating pad and cuddle up with it. Sometimes I'll put a stuffy against the heating pad to help hold it in place. As an added bonus, the stuffy gives me something to cuddle!

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Ice pack:

When I'm swollen or bloated I like to use an ice pack because the cold helps reduce the swelling. Make sure to wrap it in a towel or pillowcase because cold right against your skin isn't good! I personally like to wrap it in a baby blanket because the material is soft and calming to me.

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Oil in a Diffuser:

Eucalyptus and peppermint help with the headaches I get and makes me feel less cranky.

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White Flower Oil:

I like to rub this on my temples because it also helps relieve my headaches. However, if you're sensitive to smells or have bad allergies, I suggest not to use it.

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Meds:

Mydol or Pamrin are my go-to meds. They help relive bloating, headaches, and cramps. Please, please be careful while taking these because they do have asprin in them, which is a blood thinner, and the caffeine in them might make a headache worse if you take too much.

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Shower & Bath:

I always feel really icky during my period, so I take lots of showers and baths. It helps with my body pain, cramps, and makes me feel more clean.

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Comfort:

🌸 Having comfort during a period is super important, especially if you experience mood swings or if you go regress.

🌸 Having someone you trust comfort and reassure you is very helpful.

🌸 I personally like cuddles, so my friend or CG will hold me. If they aren't around, I make a nest out of my pillows and stuffies.

🌸 Your favorite regression things are immensely important too. If you're upset while in littlespace because you hurt, having your favorite stuffies, sippy, paci, etc. will help give you comfort and give you something to help feel better.

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I help this helps you feel better. Best wishes and hugs if you want them!

(ᵔ◡ᵔ)

[iridescent-solstice]

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲! 𝐀 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 🌸 | ᴘᴛ. ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ɴᴀᴅɪᴀ | ⤷ ʟɪꜰᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴏ ʜᴇᴄᴛɪᴄ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ. ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʜᴇʀɪꜱʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘᴇɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ . . .

"Sometimes I wonder whether I can truly change this city . . . But then when I think of you . . . it's as if all my doubts have faded away."

This quiet murmur that falls from Nadia's lips is the first thing you hear once you wake up. Still bleary eyed and tired yet you welcome the sight of her vermilion eyes shining down with adoration. Affection gnawing at your heart, urging you to greet her. A smile ghosts your lips as you push yourself up on your elbows to place a gentle kiss on her lips. Nose brushing against one another as your low lidded eyes drinks in her beauty. She seems to be doing the same. "Hmm am I truly that breathtaking?" You joke while brushing a strand of hair away from her face. Not letting anything hide her beauty.

"Enough to distract you from all your fears and doubts?" You muse with a grin and she chuckles. Bumping her forehead against yours, hands slowly pushing you back down, and quiet as a mouse you let her do so. "Of course, my love, do you doubt it?" She chuckles at your silly questions. "You're more important than any of my fears or doubts. When I think of you . . ." A blush begins to dust her cheeks, eyes darting away. "I can't help but feel this deep-rooted sense of peace washing over me. As if everything will be okay once I find you again." A sigh of contentment falling from her lips when you pull her closer. With the date of the masquerade ball drawing closer and closer, you had witnessed firsthand just how stressful planning a big event really is . . . Of course, it's not like you were completely clueless about it before, it's just a different story when all of Versuvia must enjoy it. That's alot of people. So many demands and wishes. So many traditions to uphold, but many that serve as a warning. Overindulgence. Greed. Apathy . . .

Yet admist all of this, you find yourself admiring Nadia even more now. The hussle and bussle of the castle never taking your eyes away from her. Her attention to detail, her dedication to her job as countess and her quick decision making is inspiring to say the least. Isn't she amazing? Her ability to keep a cool and level-headed approach no matter the mess up only grew the admiration you had of her. "You really are magnificent . . ." Is what you'd often say to her. But she'd always wave the compliment off. "Not as radiant as you my dear." You can't say you agree with her, but her gaze leaves little to dispute. However, if there is something everyone can agree on . . . Is just how tenacious she actually is.

You just wish she didn't work herself to the bone. That she'd accept the help offered to her . . . Your help at the very least. But she doesn't, she never does. But what she can never quite fully resist, is a warm cup of tea and some alone time with you. She loves you even more for combining the two for your morning ritual.

And so that is usually how you'd coax her to stay in bed just a little longer. Cuddled in her arms or her snuggling into you is how most mornings are spent together. "Just stay five more minutes until the tea arrives pleaseeee Noddy!" . . . She knows your games but entertains them, nonetheless. Mostly because she can't help it. She can't help adoring you and all your silly little antics. Especially not when you insist of asking for biscuits as well so you can feed them to her and spoil her appetite for breakfast in the process. But she's not complaining. Why would she when your soft warm hands are holding her so close? Why would she when for once there is someone taking care for her? Just her and her alone~

[ ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ: @magicalboything] ⤷ Recoloured so it stands out on the blog and fits the character. If you're not comfy with that PLS do let me know and I'll change it!

{ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴅ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴘɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ꜰɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ. ᴀɢᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ 16 ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴏʀ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍʏ ᴍᴅɴɪ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ}

[anantaru]

so guys 🙋🏻‍♀️🌸 i have finished the entire new quest at last and omg 👼🏼 like this was outstanding!! you see, what i really enjoy about star rail is that it gives me similar vibes to hi3 in terms of the darkness in the plot, since hi3 is my favorite hoyo game i always love seeing stuff from it or just similar instances. SO YOU KNOW FOR A FACT I WAS SO HYPED WHEN ACHERON SHOWED UP 🤺 especially with the hi3 story with kiana as the mc being over and although i still love hi3 the most, kiana, mei and bronya, that trio, they were all the best characters together AAAARGHHH I SWEAR AND JUST THE ENTIRE STORY LINE WAS SOOO GOOD, I miss them all together as a trio and especially kiana, the best hoyo MC FOR LIFE. 🙋🏻‍♀️🩷

also 🤠 ^^ that frame with sunday and dr ratio like 😙😙 WAS SO FUNNY I HAD TO SS IT. 🤺

the amount of cutscenes we got to see again was so fun, it felt like watching a movie slowly unfold while you got to be a part of it 🩷 you can tell that hoyoverse gets better and better with each update on whatever game and that the cutscenes are always so well done (i always liked them but the constant upgrades ??? insane) 🙏🏻

+ the acheron one shotting aventurine lmao 🧎🏻‍♀️ it was my favorite though ngl HAHA 🙋🏻‍♀️🩷 no matter how much i like aventurine as a character, MEI OMG MEEEIIIIII 👹🩷 SHE WILL FOREVER BE MY LOVE LIKE I KNOW ITS ACHERON BUT YOU GET WHAT I MEAN !!!!! 🙇🏻‍♀️ LIKE THE CUTSCENE WITH HER HORNS OH MY GOOOD THE NOSTALGIA LIKE YES GO OFF SHOW THEM

also guys, idk but aventurine's boss fight, 🤠 i personally expected more like it was so easy to beat ?! I THOUGHT I WOULD STRUGGLE BUT HE DIED PRETTY QUICKLY BUT ITS FINE, I STILL LIKE HIS CHARACTER 🌸🙋🏻‍♀️. + i was happy hoyoverse showed us his backstory and took their time to flash it out and not gloss over it in idk one/two scenes, but they really took their time with it which was amazing 🩷

also jade looks so cool as well! the design is very pretty and i can't wait to see diamond too, or the rest of the ten stonehearts but they're hyping diamond up so much like another emanator?? yes please, i'm all in🧎🏻‍♀️🩷

this entire quest gave me movie vibes, you were on edge the entire time and even during side quests you had to take, it was still very intense. it actually took me quite a bit to finish it of course since i'm someone who doesn't skip dialog, but it was so worth it and the best way to relax after a long day of moving my body 🩷 just laying in bed, playing while drinking tea!!

what i wanted to say too, guys honestly sunday is not okay HAHAHAHAHAHAH 🌝 I MEAN LIKE you guys🧎🏻‍♀️, that shiver in his voice at times and you can tell he low-key doesn't even know how to handle all of that either, of course, for one he looks like everything is accounted for while in the other, he sounds like he's losing his mind and can we blame him ???? when he went "why did you kill her" and lowkey cussed gallagher out i was like damn 🤠 okay 😏 HAHA + i'm somebody that doesn't think too much about theories, instead i love eagerly waiting for the next patch!! so i'm excited for what's coming 🩷 + robin's song slaps.

last but not least 🤺 you see, gallagher wasn't really somebody i was very interested in, but damn the second he turned dangerous and spicy i went oh my oh hey what's up ?? 😏 giggles HAHA LIKE WHAT IS IT ABOUT MEN WHO ARE JUST SUDDENLY EVIL AND IDK MAYBE HE ISNT COMPLETELY RIGHT AAAAAA OOOOO UUUU WWWWW AAAAA but anyways, 🌸 the last cutscene low-key hurt me like what do you mean sunday gets off screened while i was saving up for him for what? 👹 ever since fuxuan like how can you do this to me + no way they're dead dead 🤠because the last conversation aventurine had with acheron was very important to the next patch i'm pretty sure! 🩷

all in all guys!! 🩷 this quest was beautifully done, it had a lot of hard, dark stuff and it reminded me a lot of hi3, that's why i give it a 10/10, very well done. 🌸🩷

[doumadono]

Warnings: graphic descriptions of self harm, pro hero Shoto, established relationship, mentions of depression and negative thoughts, blood

Synopsis: even as a pro hero who faced countless villains and saved innumerable lives, Shoto realized nothing had prepared him for the battle he was about to fight — one involving one of the most important people in his life

A/N: this story was commissioned on my Kofi page by @aethien11-blog - I'm sharing it with their kind permission 🌸 If you like my writing, please consider supporting me via my Kofi page

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST KO-FI COMMISSIONS

The night had draped its shadowy cloak over Musutafu, casting an eerie stillness over the bustling city. The only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and the soft rustle of leaves as a faint breeze blew through the trees. The city skyline glowed faintly, a haze of light pollution against the pitch-black sky. 

Todoroki Shoto stood on the balcony of his high-rise apartment, the chill night air biting through his casual clothes. His dual-colored hair, a stark contrast to the darkness, swayed gently in the breeze as he gazed out over the city he had sworn to protect. 

Shoto had just finished his shift and was savoring a quiet evening with his beloved girlfriend. Todoroki brought a steaming cup of tea to his lips and took a sip. He reflected on his life, recognizing it as fulfilling and stable.

It had been years since he graduated from U.A. Now a pro hero, Shoto was known for his unwavering dedication and unparalleled control over his quirk, a perfect balance of ice and fire. He had faced countless villains, saved innumerable lives, yet nothing had prepared him for the battle that was about to unfold very, very soon.

Celeste sat in the living room near the balcony, a gentle breeze wafting in through the open door. She was engrossed in a book, her amber eyes skimming the pages. The rustling of leaves and distant sounds of the city provided a soothing background.

Feeling the weight of her boyfriend's gaze, she raised her head, her eyes meeting Shoto's. A soft smile spread across her face, filled with warmth and affection. "Hey there," she said, her voice as gentle as her smile, and second later, she returned to reading her book.

Shoto and Celeste had met shortly after Todoroki graduated from U.A. High School. Shoto had already begun his career as a pro hero, and Celeste, with her healing quirk, often assisted heroes in need of medical care. Their paths crossed frequently in the field, and it wasn't long before Celeste noticed the deep, unspoken pain behind Shoto's stoic exterior.

Intrigued by the quiet hero who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, Celeste made an effort to get to know him. She saw the shadows in his eyes, the haunted look that spoke of past traumas and inner turmoil. 

As they spent more time together, Shoto gradually opened up about his troubled childhood, his complicated relationship with his father, and the emotional scars that still lingered.

The more Celeste learned about Shoto's past, the closer they grew. Her empathy and kindness slowly chipped away at his defenses, and he found solace in her unwavering understanding. 

Their bond deepened, built on a foundation of mutual respect and shared vulnerability, and before long, their friendship blossomed into a deep and loving relationship.

Celeste had been a constant source of warmth and solace in his life from the moment the two met. Her quirk, a powerful healing ability, had earned her respect and admiration in the hero community. But it was her unyielding spirit and genuine kindness that had captured Shoto's heart. She had a way of seeing through the facades people wore, helping them find their true smiles. She was a constant source of cheerfulness, radiating light and positivity wherever she went. Her laughter was contagious, and Todoroki found himself cherishing it immensely.

Yet, in recent weeks, Shoto had sensed something was off, a gnawing worry that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He had noticed cracks in her facade. Moments where her smile seemed way too forced, laughter that didn’t quite reach her beautiful eyes. He had attributed it to stress, the pressures of her own hero work weighing heavily on her shoulders. 

This evening was different. This evening, the shadows seemed deeper, the silence heavier. 

Inside, the apartment was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the room. 

Shoto felt a knot tighten in his chest as he called out her name upon returning from his hero shift, his voice echoing through the seemingly empty apartment. "Celeste? I'm home." 

No answer. 

Panic started to creep in, an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation. The silence that greeted him was unusual. Normally, Celeste would be bustling around the kitchen or reading a book on the couch, always ready with a warm smile. Concern tugged at him as he moved quickly through the rooms, his heart pounding louder with each step. 

The bathroom door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out into the hallway. Shoto approached cautiously, his breath catching in his throat as he pushed the door open.

Celeste sat on the tiled floor, her back against the cold porcelain of the bathtub. Her usually vibrant brown hair, with its distinctive patch of bright red, was disheveled, cascading over her face like a curtain. She wore a long-sleeved sweater, even in the warmth of the apartment, but it was pushed up to her elbows, revealing the fresh, angry cuts marring her skin.

The bright red streaks on her forearms stood out starkly against her pale, delicate skin, deep and raw. Blood trickled from the wounds, mingling with older scars, and pooled on the pristine white tiles, creating a macabre contrast. Each breath she took was shallow and shaky, her chest heaving with the effort.

The razor blade was still clutched in her trembling hand, its edge stained crimson. More blood dripped from the blade, joining the spreading puddle beneath her. Her amber eyes, usually so full of life, were distant and hollow, tears streaming down her cheeks, mixing with the blood on her arms.

The sight was harrowing: streaks of blood had smeared across her skin where she had wiped at her tears with her hands, creating a grotesque pattern of red on her face. Blood smeared her wrists and fingers, and small droplets had splattered against the walls as well, painting the room in a chilling tableau of her anguish.

The room was silent, save for the occasional ragged breaths Celeste was taking. The sharp metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air. 

Shoto’s world narrowed to that moment, the sight of your pain cutting deeper than any villain’s attack ever could.

"Celeste..." Shoto's voice was a broken whisper, his heart shattering at the sight. He rushed to her side, dropping to his knees, gently taking the blade from her hand and tossing it aside. “What have you done?!”

She looked up at him, a flicker of recognition breaking through the haze of her despair. "Shoto... I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "I didn't want you to see this." Tears streamed down her cheeks, her mask of cheerful indifference shattering. “I’m sorry, Shoto. I tried… I tried to be strong for too long… I’m just too tired.”

He pulled her into his arms, the warmth of his inner fire contrasting with the coldness of her skin. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you let me help you?”

Her sobs were heart-wrenching, each one a dagger to Shoto’s heart. “I didn’t want to burden you. You’re always so strong, so perfect, so busy. I didn’t want you to see how broken I truly am.”

Shoto’s grip tightened, his voice fierce and filled with emotion. “You are not a burden. You are the light in my life, Celeste. I’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll get through this together.”

He reached for his phone with one hand, the other still holding the girl close. With a calmness that belied the storm inside him, he called for an ambulance. As he spoke to the operator, he kept his eyes on Celeste, his thumb gently stroking her cool cheek.

The minutes stretched into an eternity as they waited, Shoto whispering words of comfort and love, his heart breaking anew with each tear that fell from her eyes. 

When the paramedics arrived, he stayed by her side, refusing to let go even as they bandaged her wounds and prepared to take her to the hospital.

The hospital corridors were a blur as Shoto Todoroki sprinted through them, his heart hammering in his chest. He could barely breathe, his mind consumed with the fear and urgency of reaching Celeste. 

When he reached the ER doors, a group of doctors and nurses blocked his path, their expressions a mix of concern and determination.

“I need to see her,” Shoto demanded, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t go in there right now,” one of the doctors said, raising a hand to stop him. “She’s in a very serious condition, and we need to stabilize her. She lost a lot of blood.”

Shoto’s eyes flared with a dangerous mix of anger and resolve, his control slipping for the first time in years. “You don’t understand. I need to see her. Now.”

“Please, we’re doing everything we can —”

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Shoto’s voice was a low, menacing growl. “I’m Todoroki Shoto, one of the top pro heroes. And if you don’t let me in, I swear I will tear this place apart to get to my girlfriend.”

The sheer intensity of his anger and desperation caused the staff to falter. They exchanged uneasy glances, clearly aware of the volatile nature of his quirk and his reputation.

“Let him through,” came a calm but authoritative voice from behind. An older doctor stepped forward, his gaze steady. “He needs to be with her.”

One of the younger doctors shook his head, concern etched on his face. “But sir, she’s lost a lot of blood and is very weak. She needs rest.”

The older doctor walked closer, his eyes narrowing with a scolding gaze. “I know exactly what happened,” he said firmly. “I’ve just come from her room. What she needs now, more than anything, is the support and love of her close ones. This is a challenging time for her, and having her close ones by her side will aid in her recovery more than solitude ever could.”

The blockade parted, and Shoto pushed through without a second glance. He burst into the room, his eyes immediately locking onto Celeste’s fragile form lying on the hospital bed. The sight nearly brought him to his knees. Tubes and wires were attached to her, machines beeping steadily as they monitored her vitals. Her complexion was sallow, and her wrists were heavily bandaged.

He couldn’t shake the image of her on the bathroom floor from his mind, the raw pain in her darkened eyes haunting him. How had he missed it? How had he not seen the depth of her despair? He had faced monsters and menaces, but this — this was something entirely different.

He approached her slowly, his heart shattering with each step. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. “Celeste,” he whispered, his voice breaking. 

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him through a haze of pain and sedation. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over as she struggled to speak. “I’m sorry, Shoto. I’m so sorry.”

He sank into the chair beside her bed, holding her hand tightly, as if afraid she might slip away. “Why didn’t you tell me how much you were hurting? I could have helped you. I would have done anything.”

Celeste’s voice was a fragile whisper. “I didn’t want to be a burden. I thought… I thought if I kept smiling, it would be enough. But the pain… It was too much. I couldn’t see a way out.”

Shoto’s tears fell freely now, his chest aching with profound sorrow. “You’re my everything. Seeing you like this… it’s tearing me apart. I need you with me. I need you to fight through this.”

She squeezed his hand weakly, her eyes filled with regret and longing. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Shoto. I love you so much. I just didn’t know how to cope.”

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to her hand. “We’ll find a way, together. I promise you, Celeste, you’re not alone. We’ll get through this, no matter how hard it is. Just… don’t leave me. Please.”

Her tears continued to flow, her fingers trembling in his grasp. “I’ll try, Shoto. I’ll try for you.”

He lifted his head, his gaze fierce and determined. “Not just for me. For us. For our future. We’ll face this together, and I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

As the night wore on, Shoto remained by her side, refusing to let go of her hand. The hospital room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the soft beeping of the machines and the quiet sobs they shared. It was a moment of profound vulnerability, a testament to their love and the battles they would face together.

In that sterile, white room, amidst the beeping machines and the scent of antiseptic, Shoto vowed to himself and to Celeste that he would never let her face her demons alone again. 

After ensuring Celeste was asleep, Shoto quietly left her bedside. The rhythmic beeping of the machines and the soft murmur of hospital activity were the only sounds as he made his way to the nurse’s station.

“Excuse me,” Shoto said, his voice low but firm. “Can you tell me where I can find the older doctor who allowed me to see my girlfriend?”

The nurse looked up from her paperwork, a sympathetic smile crossing her face. “That would be Dr. Hayashi, the head of the emergency ward. His office is down the hall, third door on the left.”

Shoto thanked her and followed the directions. Reaching the office, he took a deep breath before knocking. A calm, authoritative voice called from within, “Come in.”

Todoroki entered the office, finding Dr. Hayashi seated behind a cluttered desk, reviewing some files. The older man looked up, his eyes filled with a gentle wisdom. 

“Dr. Hayashi,” Shoto began, bowing slightly. “I wanted to thank you for letting me see my girlfriend. And I also want to apologize for my outburst. I know I should have contained my emotions better.”

Dr. Hayashi waved off the apology, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “No need to apologize, Mr. Todoroki. I understand your reaction all too well.”

Shoto hesitated, sensing a deeper story. “You do?”

Dr. Hayashi nodded, his gaze distant. “Some time ago, I lost my daughter under very similar circumstances. She was suffering in ways I hadn’t fully grasped until it was too late. Even as a doctor, I was not allowed to see her when she was brought in. I couldn’t hold her in my arms when she was dying.”

Shoto felt a pang of empathy, the weight of the doctor’s words settling heavily on his heart. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said softly.

Dr. Hayashi offered a sad smile. “Thank you. That’s why I insisted you be with her. I know how crucial it is to have loved ones close during such a challenging time. It can make all the difference in their will to fight and recover.”

“Thank you for allowing me to be there for her.”

Dr. Hayashi leaned back in his chair, his expression one of quiet resolve. “Take care of her, Mr. Todoroki. And take care of yourself as well. You’ll both need each other’s strength.”

With a final bow, Shoto left the office, his heart heavy. He returned to Celeste’s side, more determined than ever to help her heal and to never let her feel alone again.

The days following Celeste's hospital admission were a blur of consultations, therapy sessions, and quiet, somber moments. The hospital had kept her under close watch, her condition monitored by a team of specialists. 

Shoto visited every day, his presence a constant reassurance, his hand always ready to hold hers.

Finally, the day came when she was discharged. A psychiatrist had outlined a comprehensive treatment plan, emphasizing the importance of ongoing therapy and support. 

Shoto had listened intently, absorbing every detail, his stoic demeanor masking the turmoil within.

Celeste was waiting in the discharge area, her small bag by her side. She looked up as he approached, offering a tentative smile.

"Ready to go home?" he asked, his voice steady but soft.

She nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation. "Yes."

He took her bag, carrying it effortlessly as they walked to the car. 

The drive home was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the silence. 

Shoto's eyes remained fixed on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel with controlled tension. 

Celeste glanced at him occasionally, taking comfort in his presence despite the lack of conversation.

The silence was not awkward; rather, it was a shared space of reflection and understanding. Words felt unnecessary, and the quiet was a balm to Celeste's frayed nerves. She watched the city pass by outside the window, her thoughts a tangled web of emotions and memories.

As they pulled up to their apartment building, Shoto parked the car and turned off the engine. For a moment, neither of them moved, the weight of the past days pressing down on them.

Shoto finally broke the silence. “Let’s go inside.” He got out, walking around to open her door. 

She stepped out, taking a deep breath of the familiar air. It felt strange to be back, as if the world outside had continued while she had been suspended in a separate reality.

Shoto unlocked the door to their shared apartment, holding it open for Celeste, who stepped inside and took a deep breath, absorbing the scent and warmth of home.

Inside the apartment, everything was as they had left it. The familiar surroundings felt both comforting and strange, as if everything had changed while remaining the same. 

Once they were inside, Shoto set down the bag of her belongings from the hospital and turned to face her. His eyes, usually so guarded, were filled with a mixture of concern and pure sadness. “Celeste,” he began, his voice steady but soft, “we need to talk.”

She nodded, her eyes meeting his. “I know.”

Shoto let out a sigh, "But first, you need to eat something. You've lost weight, and with the strong meds you're on, you need to stay strong. Come on, I'll make you some soba with peanut sauce."

Celeste sat on the high stool at the counter, her eyes following Shoto’s movements as he prepared the meal. He moved with practiced ease, boiling the soba noodles and mixing the peanut sauce with care. The kitchen was filled with the comforting aroma, a blend of savory and nutty scents.

As he worked, Shoto glanced over his shoulder at her. “My mother and Fuyumi want to visit this weekend. Do you mind?”

Celeste’s face lit up with genuine happiness. “I’d love that, Shoto. I’ve missed them.”

He smiled softly, returning his focus to the meal. “Good, I’m glad to hear that. They’ve missed you too.”

Within minutes, he set a steaming bowl of soba with peanut sauce in front of her. “Eat up,” he said gently. “You need your strength.”

Celeste picked up her chopsticks. “Thank you, Shoto.”

As evening approached, Shoto suggested they sit on the balcony. 

The city was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, the sky painted with hues of orange and pink. 

They sat side by side, the silence stretching comfortably between them.

Finally, Shoto spoke, his voice a low murmur. “Celeste.” Shoto took her hands in his, his thumb gently brushing over her knuckles. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened,” he said slowly, choosing his words with care. “I know you were trying to protect me by hiding your pain, but it’s not something you should have to bear alone.”

She sighed, her gaze fixed on the horizon. Celeste’s eyes filled with tears, and then she looked down at their joined hands. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Shoto. I thought if I kept it to myself, it would be easier for everyone.”

He lifted her chin, making her look at him. “Celeste. Your pain is my pain, and I want to help you carry it. We’ll face this together, but you have to let me in. Promise me you won’t hide from me anymore.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she nodded, her voice trembling. “I promise, Shoto. I’ll try to be more open. I don’t want to go through this alone either.”

He pulled her into a gentle embrace, his heart aching with a mixture of love and sorrow. “We’ll get through this, one step at a time. You’re not alone, and you never will be.”

She sobbed against his chest, the dam of her emotions breaking. “I’ve been so scared, Shoto. So scared of disappointing everyone, of showing weakness. I thought… If I kept smiling, it would be okay. But it’s not.”

He listened intently, his heart aching at her words. "I’m sorry I didn’t see how much you were struggling. I thought… I thought you were happy. And when I started noticing… It was too late.”

She clung to him, the warmth of his body a stark contrast to the cold despair she had felt just days before. In his arms, she found a glimmer of hope, a promise of better days to come.

He held her through her tears, his own eyes stinging with unshed tears. “We’ll face this together. Please, let me help you.”

For a long time, they sat in silence, Shoto’s arms wrapped protectively around her. The gravity of her pain settled heavily in his heart. He knew this was only the beginning, that their journey would be fraught with challenges. But he was determined to be her anchor, to show her that she wasn’t alone.

They sat there, holding each other as the sun dipped below the horizon. The future was uncertain, and the road ahead would be challenging, but they faced it together, bound by love and a shared determination to find their way through the darkness. In each other, they found strength and hope, a beacon to guide them through the storm.

The days that followed were filled with small, tentative steps towards healing. 

Shoto made sure she attended her therapy sessions and took her medication. He was always there, a silent pillar of strength, offering his unwavering support. Todoroki watched her closely, always attuned to her moods. He learned to recognize the signs of deterioration of her mood, the moments when her smiles didn’t quite reach her eyes. In those times, he held her close, whispering words of comfort and love.

One day, after Celeste felt well enough, Shoto’s mother, Rei Todoroki, and his older sister, Fuyumi, came to visit. They brought handmade mochi and other sweets, their faces lighting up with joy when they saw Celeste looking better.

Rei was the first to embrace her, pulling Celeste into a gentle, warm hug. “It’s so good to see you, dear,” she whispered, her voice full of genuine relief. “We’ve missed you.”

Fuyumi followed, hugging Celeste tightly. “We’ve been thinking about you every day,” she said softly. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better,” the woman added, stroking Celeste’s brown hair gently.

Dark-haired girl smiled, a little overwhelmed by their warmth. “Thank you both. It means a lot to me.”

They all settled in the living room, the sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee and tea mingling with the afternoon air. 

Shoto sat beside Celeste, his hand resting reassuringly on her knee.

Rei sipped her tea before speaking, her tone soft like a summer breeze. “We won’t ask you about what happened,” she said gently. “We know it’s hard, and we don’t want to bring you back to that dark place.”

Fuyumi nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. “Just know that we’re always here for you, whenever you need us. You’re part of our family, Celeste.”

Celeste’s eyes shimmered with tears, but they were tears of gratitude. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

Rei smiled warmly. “Now, let’s enjoy these sweets together.”

As they shared the mochi and other treats, the room filled with laughter and light conversation. The support and love from Rei and Fuyumi were like a balm to Celeste’s soul, reminding her that she wasn’t alone and that she had a family who cared deeply for her.

Celeste began to open up more, sharing her fears and insecurities, and slowly, she started to find her way back to herself. The scars on her body, though a grim reminder of her struggle, began to fade slowly.

Their home became a sanctuary, a place where they could face the darkness together. Each day was a battle, but it was one they fought side by side, their love and determination lighting the way forward. And in the quiet moments, when they held each other close, they found solace in the unspoken promise that they would never give up on each other.

For Shoto, the love he held for Celeste was a beacon of hope, guiding him through the challenging times.

And for Celeste, Shoto’s unwavering support was a reminder that she was never truly alone, that even in her darkest moments, there was light to be found.

[adiluv-moved]

❥ COMPOSER / BLOODY QUEEN + COOKING HCS. ˚⊹꒷

🕊️୧・꒰word count꒱ total—1605, frederick—816, mary—789.

🌸୧・꒰warnings꒱ possibly ooc ꒰mary꒱, not heavily edited.

🐇୧・꒰adi moment꒱ request here! i ended up adding mary to this request, since i thought it would be interesting to have a character that could cook with one that can't. ꒰i also just love mary ♡꒱ hope you enjoy! ꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱˖⁺‧₊˚

જ⁀➴ frederick kreibrug, the composer. ˚⊹꒷

꒰🎹꒱・Frederick can only be described as a natural perfectionist, and this trait isn’t something that so easily disappears whenever he enters the kitchen. After all, he’s lived his entire life with expectations being piled onto him by both his fans and his family—and while he may no longer have any affiliation with them, such high external pressures do eventually tend to seep in. Regardless of what the subject matter may be, if he doesn’t do something to the very height of his abilities, then what’s the point of doing it at all?

꒰🎹꒱・As such, he’s the type of chef to use a recipe and follow it to. The. Tea. His amazing memory tends to become extra useful in remembering the steps, his muscle memory even allowing him to get near perfect measurements every single time. Similarly to memorizing your favorite music pieces, I do also think he’d be quick to memorize any dishes you mention your enjoyment of. He also does his best to avoid using any unnecessary cookware, as he’s never been a big fan of having to wash everything afterwards. At least within the manor he’s not always the one that has to clean the dishes after meals, though the survivors that do can appreciate his efficiency.

꒰🎹꒱・He’s most experienced with savory dishes, mostly due to his attempts to recreate the food he’d eat before being disowned by his family. They’d been quite insistent on the importance of eating well, believing that one couldn’t perform their best if they did so on an empty stomach—a sentiment that Frederick continues to carry despite their estrangement. He will pile extra food onto your plate if you have a match coming up, especially so if he knows that the hunter is one that you tend to struggle kiting against. There have been times where other survivors have attempted to tease the both of you for this… though the silent look that he gives them tends to ruin the mood.

꒰🎹꒱・Even if he doesn’t have the time or energy to make something for you, he’ll still be sure to ask whether or not you’ve eaten properly before you head over to the waiting room. He’s quite menacing with it, too, even though you know he means well—and he’ll absolutely nag you if you respond in the negative. Did you lose the match? Oh, how unfortunate… Perhaps you got too distracted by the sound of your stomach rumbling at some point? Next time, you should make sure to eat properly before running around. Did you win the match? Well, congratulations! But you didn’t eat too well beforehand, no? You must be starving. Go sit down, he’ll quickly prepare something.

꒰🎹꒱・Depending on your personal threshold for spices and seasoning, you may or may not find Frederick’s food to be in need of a little extra flavor. He’ll be slightly surprised if you end up bringing this critique to him, not really seeing much of an issue with it himself. He’d probably assume that he messed up on the recipe somewhere along the way, so it’ll take a bit for you to convince him that while he does follow things with extreme precision… there are also times when breaking away from the recipe can help. Although it takes him a bit to fully accept that conclusion, he’ll still allow you to add additional seasonings to his food—and deeply appreciate it once he realizes how much better it is.

꒰🎹꒱・Regardless of how much more he enjoys your additions, I don’t see Frederick as having a particularly high spice tolerance—though his poker face works wonders in hiding that. In most cases, so long as it’s not extremely spicy, he can manage to maintain his composure until the meal is over and he can chug as much water as his heart desires. However, when that method fails him he’ll become red in the face ꒰which he still tries to keep straight꒱ and awkwardly fidget within his seat. Offering to go and get him some water will result in him looking at you like you’re an angel.

꒰🎹꒱・He’s a big fan of cooking with you, despite the extra mess and time that it’ll take. Granted, it does take him some time to get him to loosen up entirely—perfectionist tendencies shining through when you first start—but the activity does come to grow on him by the time your food is ready. I don’t see him as the type to be too goofy with it, though he’ll humor you most of the time. He’ll often ask if you’d like to make something with him when his brain gets too fried from compositions, and there have been many times where you’ve had to guard your creations from the other survivors. It’s fun, to him, and you might even find him drifting away from the recipes of his childhood over time. No need to remember them, in his eyes.

જ⁀➴ mary antoinette, the bloody queen. ˚⊹꒷

꒰🪞꒱・Mary, on the other hand, has absolutely no idea how to cook—though this isn’t exactly something that you could blame her for. Having been regarded as a member of the nobility for the entirety of her life, eventually even rising up to the title of queen—she’s never had much of a reason to bother herself with learning. Especially so considering that she had personal chefs to do the job both more efficiently and skillfully than she could ever dream of. 

꒰🪞꒱・This inability of hers to fend for herself in the kitchen isn’t something that changes when she enters the manor, either, considering that she’s one of the undead residents. Make no mistake here, she could eat if she desired to—in fact, she actively enjoys swooping in and stealing the food of living hunters—but she faces zero consequences if she decides not to. With that in mind, stepping foot into the kitchen isn’t exactly something that she does often. If I’ll be honest, most of the hunters would be totally fine with keeping her out of the room as a whole, too.

꒰🪞꒱・Not only is Mary very vocal about her displeasure of being forced into something so ‘unbefitting’ for her status, but all the more concerningly—has nearly burnt down the kitchen during each and every one of her attempts to make something. It’s gotten to the point where even Joseph—who’s not the greatest cook himself—jokes that asking Mary to cook something is the same as setting off a ticking time-bomb within the kitchen… though the downright nasty glares that she sends over in his direction are quick to shut him up. You can’t help but find it a little funny, but I wouldn’t recommend saying that to her face. 

꒰🪞꒱・While I do think she’d initially be less than welcoming to the idea of finally learning how to cook, she’d probably also give in if you ask her enough. She’ll insist that the only reason behind her agreement was due to how ‘annoying’ your repetitive begging and whining was, but she simply just hates to see the sad look on your face whenever she denies your requests—a truth that the both of you are well aware of. Do be warned, however, the task of showing her how to cook is far from easy, and you’ll have to stay by her side throughout the entire process. She’s clueless, but at the same time refuses to ask for help when she needs it. She’d probably be the type of person who believes that turning the oven to the highest temperature will cook the food faster—and you’re honestly lucky that the manor possesses no microwaves, because she’d absolutely put metal inside of one.

꒰🪞꒱・Another product of her upbringing, Mary has exceedingly high standards when it comes to food, with you being only partially spared from her high expectations. She will, however, gush over anything that she manages to make, believing it to be incredible despite any criticism she receives. Once again, her status as one of the undead hunters does protect her from issues such as food poisoning, leading her to eat all of her creations with a straight face… all while you’re physically convulsing from how terrible the taste is. She initially becomes offended by your reaction, but calms down slightly once you remind her that your stomach is far more sensitive than hers.

꒰🪞꒱・Despite how prideful she is, she’d feel utterly horrible if you became sick from eating one of her meals, and the entire thing would lead her to wanting to give up on cooking as a whole. I already see her as the type of person that becomes frustrated whenever she’s not immediately good at something, and seeing her significant other getting sick because of her certainly doesn’t do much to help. Although, assuming that you do convince her to continue cooking once you recover, I do think that the entire experience would get her to open up to suggestions. She’d hate to see you suffering within the infirmary for something avoidable, after all.

꒰🪞꒱・Considering her sweet tooth, I think that Mary would likely be more invested in baking than in cooking, even if it’s the harder of the two. ꒰Though she certainly isn’t helped by the fact that her favored pastries are more on the luxurious side.꒱ While it would require quite a bit of time—which you have an abundance of within the manor, anyway—she’d probably really only learn how to make some more basic dishes. Of course, it’s still amazing progress considering her starting point, so I don’t think she’d mind all that much. Be sure to deliver a few compliments of your own, too. She enjoys seeing you smile, especially when she’s the reason behind it.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[sanjismuskyarmpits]

some notes on Taranza & Joronia’s species, and on Floralian culture:

🌸 Colloquially speaking, both bug-folk (Waspiders, Antlers, Sectra Dees, etc.) and plant-folk (the People of the Sky) are indigenous to Floralia, having lived there for thousands of years.

🌸 The floating archipelago’s Mirror Counterpart is the kingdom of Sporalia - an underground civilization deep beneath the earth, within and around Cabbage Cavern.

🌸 Floralian Waspiders are arboreal, whereas Sporalian Waspiders are fossorial. As a result, the latter tend to have thicker claws and larger horns, which they use for digging.

🌸 Both can hold their breath for significantly longer than, say, the average Waddle Dee - an advantage in dizzyingly high-altitude floating islands and waterlogged underground caverns alike.

🌸 Waspiders are omnivorous. Although their diet is particularly heavy on insects, meat and fish, they’ll also consume plants, fruit, flowers and flower nectar. Plant milk is popular, as are fruit juices and liquors, pulque, and cacao-based drinks.

🌸 Insects and other forms of prey are usually cooked, but consumption of raw or live prey isn’t unusual, either - the late Queen Joronia was particularly known for her fondness of raw shrew, sliced thin and marinated with fresh herbs, citrus and birch syrup.

🌸 Snakes are sacred animals and symbols of protection to Floralians, made in the image of their serpentine deity, Togu Ro Garāga (whom you may know as Coily Rattler). Killing, eating or otherwise bringing harm to a snake is taboo.

🌸 Statues and other iconography of serpents are often erected outside tombs, temples, homes, and so on - some, like the Burner Guardians, are even animated with magic to defend against intruders.

🌸 Floralia has a strong and elaborate tea culture - or rather, tisane culture! (Taranza is anal about the difference, but enjoys both.) Most Floralian teas are brewed from flowers and herbs rather than tea leaves, which are an imported delicacy from the Lower World.

🌸 Flowering teas are quite popular, consisting of dried flower bundles that ‘bloom’ as the water heats up. For those who prefer sugar in their cup, teas (and tisanes) are typically sweetened with honey, agave or flower nectar.

[jamiesfootball]

🌷🌸🌹🌺💐🌷

some flowers for u when u need them <3

You told me to get back here and fix it. So here is a small scene from a sequel to last week's prompt for "Did it ever occur to you that maybe we don’t want to see you get hurt?”

Jamie shifted to block his path.

“Look, don't worry about me and the grouchy dick, alright? I just wanted to say sorry for before. At the hospital.” The distance on Sam's face softened into something Jamie could reach. Yet all his teammate said was, “That isn't necessary.” “No, see, 'cause it is. I mean, I don’t really remember what I did to set you off. Mostly I just remember some yelling. But if you can remind me what it was, I want to apologise for it proper- take accountability and make amends and all that, you know?” Because before he could apologise, he needed to know what he'd done. Knowing what you were apologising for was a big part of taking accountability, Jamie knew that now. The part where he'd gone and gotten his head rattled by a midfielder with anger issues didn’t excuse his actions, and it didn't make it any less his fault. Whatever he’d done to drive Sam — Sam — to yell at him, it couldn’t’ve been good. Still, he didn’t know what he could’ve done that was so bad that just the mention of it had Sam’s face turning spoiled sick. With a hand pressed to his chest, the lad looked seconds away from fainting, the grip on his water bottle so tight it might burst at any moment. Before Jamie could ask how high a debt he’d be paying off for the rest of his life, Sam shook his head and said, “No. Jamie, no. No, that is not-“ Whatever it wasn’t apparently wasn’t worth mentioning, because Sam chewed through the distance between them in two large steps. His body barely had a chance to startle backwards before Sam had him in his grasp.

He cradled Jamie against his chest. Lean, capable arms wrapped tightly around his shoulder and lower back, avoiding the sore spots the doctors had pointed out like they were real injuries instead of short term inconveniences. Sam breathed in deeply, a long inhale followed by a welcomed exhale, and Jamie found his own breathing struggling to match the pace. He let his head drop onto Sam's shoulder; since he couldn’t have painkillers around the house right now, the headache was killing him. “I worry sometimes that we are speaking two languages,” Sam admitted quietly against his ear. “That if I am not careful, I will accidentally do something to harm you. “Nah,” Jamie argued. “I’m tough. Not much you could do to hurt me.” Sam hummed, a rumbly little noise that rattled into Jamie’s chest, clearing away the cobwebs. “Let me cook for you. Come over to my place tonight.”

Some things were just too good to last.

“Can’t." Jamie said, starting to pull away even though regret tugged between his ribs. “Roy said we could start training again, and I've got stuff I need to get ready. 'Sides, I’m not supposed to -“

Sam held him fast.

"Jamie, please," Sam begged. "Training can wait one more day. In the meantime, I would like to cook for my friend. Please. Come over. Let us fix things. He should say no. He had responsibilities, things he'd committed to that should feel more important than jumping at the chance to skive off and play tea party with his friends. But he was so so tired, and any excuse not to spend another minute at home was a fucking life raft, and Sam-

Sam looked so bloody hopeful. “Yeah, alright," Jamie agreed, allowing the life raft to drift him a little further offshore. "D’you want me to bring anything?” Sam squeezed his shoulders. “Thank you. And no, that isn't necessary. Do not worry- I will stick to your nutrition plan. Only if Coach asks, we will tell him that all the food was fried.” Jamie grinned. It didn't even feel like a chore this time. "Sound."

[xopinkroses]

Big brain Nero head cannon time!

I loved the "Can I spend my life with you?" fic and it got me thinking... Nero would be so soft around little kids! 🤧 Chaotic but soft! Like playful and fully engaged with whatever they are doing and 1000% down to play with dolls or putting on makeup or a full on nerf war or a foam sword fight or even just chasing the kid around, cackling like a gremlin while the kid screams and giggles! 😭

It would be so precious to watch and my heart can't handle how cute it is!!!

Playtime (Nero x Reader & Their Child)♥

(Dad Nero has my heart💖💖😭 Both baby and Reader are gender neutral for maximum self insertion haha~ I based this on my younger family members and how I mess around with them! (◠‿◠✿) Thank you for the request!! xo)

Summary; Nero playing with your toddler! Word Count; 575 Warnings; None! :)

MASTERLIST🌸

From the second your child was born, Nero’s ‘dad mode’ was unlocked and he hasn't looked back since. Dad jokes, tea parties and telling stories with dramatic voices to make an actor jealous– Nero gladly let go of any pride he had before in order to see his baby smile. That gummy smile and the tiny, cooing giggles when he would make faces and animatedly speak to the tiny baby in his arms… It just made everything worth it. 

“I’m gonna get youuu∼!” 

“No you won’t–!”

You watch on as the two most important people in your life cause absolute chaos in your living  room, couch cushions and toys strewn over the floor and the sound of delighted squealing and giggling warming your heart. Nero is pretending to chase after your toddler, dramatically parkouring over furniture, pretending to be some kind of monster… or maybe a dinosaur? You can’t really be sure, the game changes every few minutes and you’ve given up trying to keep up with the switch ups. He always makes sure to be just unable to reach your child, who squeals and yells for the monster to go away as they run a few feet away– but you know Nero is as eagle eyed as ever, subtly herding them away from potential dangers without pausing the game.

Nero takes playtime very seriously. Sometimes you have to ask yourself whether you have one baby or two– because father and child are on the exact same wavelength when it comes to playing. This is a game of life or death!

“I’m gonna steal all your hugs– give them to meeee∼!” Nero rushes towards your child, hands outstretched in a tickling motion. They scream and run behind the couch, peeking over it with sparkling eyes.

“Nuh-uh! None for youuuu–!” They declare, giggling and waiting for their daddy’s next move. “Monsters don’t get hugs!”

Nero gasps in offence, “What do you mean monsters don’t get hugs?”

“No hugs for monsters!” The child doubles down, grinning as Nero puts a hand to his chest and puts on an indignant expression.

“But what if I’m a nice monster?” Nero challenges, creeping closer to the couch.

“Nope, nuh-uh– no hugs for you!” They see Nero’s approach and starts mirroring his actions so that the two of them are circling the couch. 

“Is that so?” Nero grins mischievously.

They giggle, “Mm-hmm! My hugs, you can’t have them!” 

You already know what's coming before it even happens, having seen this scenario play out many times before. Nero nods sadly, looking thoughtful. “Hmm, okay… I guess I’ll just have to go without then….” 

And then he lunges– vaulting over the couch and capturing the toddler in his arms, lifting them into the air like a trophy. They squeal and kick their arms and legs out in an attempt to ‘free themself’, their cheeks flushed and white hair a mess. 

“Gotcha–!” He tosses them into the air before hugging them tightly to his chest. His arms are strong and protective around your child, and they lean into his embrace despite still screaming out in defeat at having been caught by the monster. “All your hugs are mine!”

That's when you decide to make your presence known, wrapping your arms around the two of them and nuzzling your cheek against the soft white hair of your baby’s head. A sneak attack to win you the game!

“-- And now both of your hugs are mine!”

~ 🖤