#Violin Practice Routine

[kandmmusicschool]

Master Expressive Violin Vibrato with Pro Tips and Daily Exercises

Vibrato is an essential violin technique that adds expression and emotion to the sound. Mastering a flexible, controlled vibrato requires daily focus and targeted exercises. This in-depth guide provides tips to develop violin vibrato technique properly along with sample practice routines to enhance mastery.

Vibrato brings the violin to life with passion and color. Learning efficient motion and integrating it musically into playing elevates phrasing. With patience and deliberate practice, any violinist can develop an expressive, shimmering vibrato. Let's get started!

What is Violin Vibrato?

Vibrato is a rapid, constant fluctuation in pitch that adds expression and interest to violin notes. It gives the characteristic warmth and personality to the sound.

Vibrato is produced by small, regular finger motions while maintaining contact with the string. This causes slight variations in pitch that enhance tone. Vibrato can also be created using wrist or arm movements.

There are several types of violin vibrato:

Finger vibrato - subtle fingertip rocking back and forth

Wrist vibrato - flickering hand motion at the wrist

Arm vibrato - larger oscillation from the elbow

Violinists utilize different speeds and widths of vibrato for varied effects. Mastering control of this technique is a milestone of accomplished violin playing.

How Violin Vibrato Creates Fluctuating Pitch

Violin vibrato works by slightly shortening and lengthening the string length through finger motion:

Rocking the fingertip back lifts the string slightly, shortening the length, and raising the pitch

Rocking forward lowers the string, increasing the length, and lowering the pitch

This creates an oscillating fluctuation between higher and lower pitches

The result is a rich, warm pulsating sound at the main note pitch

This pitch wavering adds interest, emotion, and vocal-like sounds.

Notation for Violin Vibrato

Composers use the following notation to indicate vibrato:

Wavy line above or below note

"Vib." or "non-vib." written instructions

Changes in line width show variations in speed or width

Listen to recordings to interpret the intended vibrato style.

Benefits of Developing Strong Vibrato Skills

Here are some of the key benefits that vibrato brings to violin playing:

Adds beautiful warmth and richness to the tone quality

Allows dynamic, nuanced musical expression

Enables tone color variations from bright shimmers to romantic intensity

Elevates phrasing and makes the violin "sing"

Prevents monotony by adding interest to long notes

Provides an outlet for emotion through the instrument

Benchmark of advanced violin technique mastery

Makes amateur playing sound more professional

Vibrato is not just an add-on effect - it becomes an integral part of the violinist's sound. Mastering expressive vibrato technique elevates playing to a more professional level.

More Than Just Ornamentation

Vibrato is sometimes mistakenly viewed as just ornamentation added onto notes. But truly mastered vibrato:

Becomes an unconscious, integral part of sound production

Is used expressively on virtually every sustained note

Enhances the core tone, not just decorates it

Helps communicate phrasing, emotion, and musicality

Aim to make vibrato a natural extension of your artistic intentions, not just a technique attached to notes.

Violin Vibrato is Expected

For aspiring violinists, here’s some motivation:

Audiences, teachers, and fellow musicians expect violinists to use vibrato

Lack of vibrato sounds amateur, dull, or emotionless

The Vibrato technique is required for advanced repertoire

Using vibrato well projects passion and musicality

Put in the work, and your effort will be rewarded with rich sounds.

Proper Violin Vibrato Technique Fundamentals

Developing efficient, flexible vibrato requires establishing these core techniques:

Relaxed, supple wrist and arm motion

Small, circular fingertip rocking movement

Completely smooth, even oscillation between slightly raised and lowered finger positions

Maintaining constant contact between fingertip and string

Allowing arm weight to transfer through the finger to the string

Using the entire forearm, not just the wrist or hand

Integrating motion into the hand frame without tension or extra motion

Slow, mindful practice establishes proper motion and feel. Vibrato must become second nature to use expressively. Master the basics first before attempting to vary vibrato effects.

Relaxation is Crucial

Tension hinders vibrato development. Always monitor for:

Tight, rigid wrist, arm, or shoulder

Gripping motion in the hand

Pressing fingers down harshly on strings

Collapsing knuckles or bent fingertips

Relax muscles fully. Let arm weight flow into the fingertip.

Efficient, Economical Motion

Strive for:

Minimal extraneous motion in hand or arm

Fingertip moves slightly up and down, hand frame stays steady

Smooth circles, not back-and-forth or diagonal rubbing

Just enough motion to fluctuate pitch, not more

Any tension or extra motion inhibits speed and flexibility.

Useful Daily Exercises for Improving Violin Vibrato

Dedicated daily practice of targeted vibrato exercises builds technique efficiently. Here are some useful drills:

Flexibility and Motion Exercises

Gently roll wrists in circles to increase suppleness

Stretch wrists carefully within a comfortable range of motion

Massage forearms and wrists to relax muscles

Rotate arms at the elbow to prepare for arm vibrato

Basic Finger Motion Practice

While seated, tap fingertips together in a controlled, pulsating rocking motion

Start with a slower tempo, increase finger speed over time

Focus on maintaining completely steady, even oscillation

Finger Rolls on the Violin

With violin supported, place finger on string with normal frame

Roll fingertip evenly up and down while keeping contact with the string

Control speed and narrow the motion as coordination develops

Vibrato on Open Strings

Apply basic vibrato finger motion to open strings

Start very slowly and gradually increase the oscillation speed with the metronome

Use arm weight to allow motion to transfer through the finger to the string

Integrating Vibrato into Scales and Songs

First perfect notes, shifts, and intonation without vibrato

Add vibrato on long-held notes at the ends of phrases

Increase the amount of vibrato as technical skill improves

Use vibrato stylistically to complement the music

Isolating Each Element

Practice aspects separately before combining:

Flexibility drills only

Basic finger motion only

Finger roll on the violin without a sound

Open string vibrato focus

Add vibrato sparingly to the repertoire

This develops and ingrains proper technique.

Developing an Expressive, Musical Violin Vibrato

Once the basics are established, work on varying your vibrato for expressive effects:

Adjust oscillation speed for different impacts - slow can be sweet, fast more intense.

Modify width from very narrow vibrato to wide, dramatic shimmers.

Add accents or crescendos/decrescendos during vibrato notes.

Sync vibrato with phrase shaping, dynamics, and emotions of the music.

Listen to recordings of great violinists to inspire artistic vibrato use.

With mastery, vibrato becomes an intuitive tool for highlighting the music's phrasing and passion. An expressive vibrato transports listeners.

Speed, Width, and Shape

To vary vibrato:

Faster = more intensity and excitement

Slower = sweetness and meditation

Wider = bigger dramatic shimmers

Narrower = delicate flutter

Shape vibrato with crescendos, accents, and varied speed/width

Syncing with Music

Sync choices to phrasing or emotion:

Slow, narrow vibrato on soft lyrical sections

Pulsing, passionate vibrato on loud, dramatic phrases

Adding/increasing vibrato towards a climax note

Let the music influence your vibrato decisions.

Tips for Practicing Violin Vibrato Exercises

Here are some useful tips for getting the most out of daily vibrato practice:

Mindful Repetition

Thoughtfully repeat each exercise, focusing intently on the proper motion. Quality matters more than quantity. Don't allow flaws to get ingrained.

Use a Metronome

Set the metronome slow and increase tempo gradually over time to monitor oscillations. A steady rhythm is key.

Record Yourself

Record videos to watch your hand motion and analyze your vibrato sound. Strive for continuous, flawless oscillations.

Take Breaks

Frequent short sessions are better than marathon practice. Give muscles recovery time to increase flexibility safely.

Increase Difficulty Slowly

Start on open strings with easy whole notes. Only advance to a more complex repertoire, dynamics, and tempi once simple is mastered.

Listen Critically

Develop your “vibrato ear.” Identify and correct any unevenness, nervous shaking, or lack of continuity.

Stay Patient and Positive

Don’t get discouraged. Daily dedication leads to vibrato success. Celebrate small improvements.

Consistent, attentive exercises ingrain proper vibrato technique automatically over time.

Troubleshooting Common Violin Vibrato Problems

Here are solutions to some typical challenges students face:

Uneven, shaky vibrato: Relax wrist and arm fully. Move just the fingertip, not the whole hand. Control speed with a metronome.

Not continuous: Maintain constant finger rocking. Don't stop/start oscillation. Eliminate any pauses.

Finger loses contact: Touch the string very lightly. Allow arm weight to transfer through the fingertip.

Sounds too wide/narrow: Adjust finger motion width and listen critically to match music.

Hand tenses up: Check for tension. Shake hands out. Soften grip.

Pressing too hard: Light fingertip contact. Move arm weight into rocking finger.

Adding vibrato late: First practice note change without vibrato. Then add immediately when changing notes.

Analyze issues, isolate elements, and do focused exercises to correct them.

Integrating Vibrato into Violin Repertoire

One fundamental technique is established through exercises, start incorporating vibrato into varied repertoire:

Add vibrato to long notes initially, then expand to more notes as skills improve

Prioritize vibrato on emphasized notes like at the ends of phrases

Use appropriate speed and width for the piece's mood and style

Avoid tension by keeping a relaxed motion established in exercises

Let vibrato enhance the music's phrasing, not obscure it

Gradually increase vibrato as technical control develops. Use it to accentuate musical ideas.

Choosing Vibrato Points

When deciding where to add vibrato:

Vary it more in slow lyrical sections, and less in fast technical passages

Prioritize long notes first to emphasize passion

Highlight climax notes at the ends of phrases

Use selectively for contrast between non-vibrato and vibrato notes

Listen and experiment. Let the music guide your expressive choices.

Developing Consistency in Practice

Achieving an expressive vibrato requires dedication through daily practice. Here are tips:

Make it a Routine

Commit to regular short sessions - 10 minutes daily is ideal

Consistency over time brings cumulative improvement

Track and Measure Progress

Record sessions to compare against past vibrato attempts

Note tempo markings of metronome settings you can handle

Quantify measures like oscillation speed, width, duration

Set Gradual Goals

Add one more note with vibrato

Increase metronome speed by 1 notch

Sustain vibrato for 2 extra beats

Analyze and Refine

Review recordings, and identify issues to improve

Compare sound to professional vibrato examples

Adjust technique and repeat focused exercises

Celebrate Small Wins

Recognize any sign of progress

Avoid getting discouraged if advancing slowly

Remind yourself success comes through practice over time

Fostering a growth mindset keeps you moving forward. Consistency is key.

Vibrato Exercises to Include in Daily Practice Routine

To simplify establishing a regular practice routine, here are suggested vibrato exercises to cycle through daily:

Monday

Wrist rolls, arm circles, stretching (5 minutes)

Basic finger motion at increasing metronome tempi (3 minutes)

Open D string vibrato whole notes (2 minutes)

Tuesday

Wrist/arm massage, fingertip tapping (5 minutes)

Rolls on all open strings, one string at a time (3 minutes each)

Apply vibrato to open A and E strings (2 minutes each)

Wednesday

Wrist and arm flexibility drills (5 minutes)

Finger rolls on each string, half note duration (3 minutes each)

Vibrato octave scales on D and A strings (2 minutes each)

Thursday

Arm rotations, knuckle stretches (5 minutes)

Vibrato finger taps at a fast tempo (3 minutes)

Add vibrato to repertoire pieces (5 minutes)

Friday

Full relaxation and massage of arms (5 minutes)

Advance metronome speed on open string whole note vibrato (3 minutes)

Play repertoire pieces with added vibrato (5 minutes)

Saturday

Flexibility exercises for wrist and arm (5 minutes)

Open string vibrato with varying speeds (3 minutes)

Practice vibrato in challenging repertoire sections (5 minutes)

Sunday

Gentle stretches, wrist rolls, fingertip tapping (5 minutes)

Play repertoire pieces from start to finish with added vibrato (10 minutes)

Cycling through a sequence like this ingrains skills through consistency. Adjust and expand exercises as you progress.

Putting it All Together

Learning violin vibrato requires diligent daily practice of proper relaxed technique. Isolate elements like flexibility, basic finger motion, applying to open strings, and adding judiciously to the repertoire. Listen critically and assess recordings of your progress. Using expressive, musical vibrato will elevate your level of playing and unlock the violin’s full tonal palette. With patience and consistency, work through challenges one by one. The beautiful reward of a flexible, singing vibrato is well worth the effort.

Let me know if you would like me to expand or modify any part of this comprehensive vibrato guide. Please share any feedback on areas I can improve. I aimed to thoroughly cover how to develop excellent violin vibrato techniques through dedicated practice.

FAQ

What is the proper violin vibrato motion?

A relaxed, circular rocking of the fingertip that transfers arm weight into the string to create a fluctuating pitch.

How can you practice violin vibrato efficiently?

Isolate aspects like flexibility, basic motion, and open strings. Add judiciously to the repertoire. Record and assess your progress.

How do you vary vibrato for musical expression?

By adjusting speed, and width, adding dynamic shapes, and syncing choices to the phrasing and mood of the music.

What are some common vibrato challenges and how to fix them?

Uneven or shaky vibrato - relax your arm and control your speed. Hand tensing up - release grip, reduce pressing.

How should you choose which notes to add vibrato to?

Prioritize long notes, ends of phrases, and climaxes. Consider the mood and style of the music.

How long does it take to develop a good violin vibrato technique?

It requires consistent daily practice over months or years. Have patience and celebrate small achievements.

Why is recording yourself important?

Analyzing recordings helps identify and correct any technical flaws before they get ingrained.

[morganas-pendragons]

sweet and soft | elrond peredhel

okay LISTEN

I read this prompt about the elves ears DAYS ago and it has not left me alone. it being their most sensitive part of their body along with touching their ears meaning you want courtship.... and I then had a dream about this with Elrond

not a drop of angst in here, I want to kiss him so bad

enjoy!

***

Sunlight cradles the two of you from where you sit among the gardens in Lindon. It is a rare day where the High King has given Elrond reprieve from his duties as Herald, and you both took the opportunity to spend the time together in the gardens where you’d met.

Elrond only had one condition: You had to play for him. As your skill with a violin was renowned, you’d earned your place as High King Gil-Galad’s violinist who was often called upon for important events. It was what had initially drawn Elrond to you, seeing you playing at Gil-Galad's feast.

That was almost six months ago. Now you find yourself enraptured by the Half-Elven man with his head in your lap, your fingers idly carding through unruly curls as you recite lines of poetry from the book he’d brought to read.

Your first mistake in being so engrossed in your poetry is that you miss Elrond’s breathing hitch when your fingers ghost the tips of his ears. He is aware, as are you, what the implications are behind touching the ears of another elf. Elrond has never made the depth of his feelings for you known.

He is cognizant of one detail, at minimum. Elrond wants to court you.

He is also aware that his cheeks are burning as he turns to press his head into your thigh.

Your fingers curl just beneath the neckline of his shirt before dancing upward once again and repeating the same motion. Out of the corner of his eye, Elrond catches the faint smile upturning your lips as you peer down to meet his gaze. His eyes are astonishing already, but washed in the glow of the morning sun, he almost seems as if he is sent straight from the Valar themselves.

“Is something wrong, Elrond?” You ask innocently. He reaches up to snap the poetry book shut, allowing him the opportunity to sit up and face you. “I thought you were enjoying the poetry. This is our weekly routine, after all.”

He takes those next few beats of silence to allow his eyes to sweep across your face. Elrond has known you to be somewhat of a mischievous person, feigning innocence and naivety in situations where repercussions are demanded if fault is admitted.

“I was simply admiring the person who chooses to spend their waking hours with me instead of making practical use of their time,” Elrond remarks, voice stuttering as you curled your fingers into the lengthening curls at his temples to tug him close to you. “And how devious you are.”

You grin widely at him. Elrond is the only person you have ever allowed yourself to be genuine with. Being in Gil-Galad’s favor means that you so often have to wear a practiced facade of grace and poise. There is no room for child like behaviors.

Being with Elrond allows you to truly, truly embrace the very being of who you are. That is one of the many characteristics you have come to love about him.

“Me? Devious? Surely you are joking." You tease. "All I did was-“

He catches your hand before you can do it again. The two of you sit there in silence for a brief moment as you stare at your hand caught in his own. It’s the first time he’s really taken it. Sure, the two of you have walked with one another in these gardens plenty of times, but only as friends.

You have wanted Elrond for what feels like lifetimes. For the sake of yourself and for him as parts of Gil-Galad’s court, you chose to love him from afar. You didn’t want to impose upon Elrond. He already carried enough.

However, given the way he’s looking at you, part of you quietly wonders if he feels the same way and chose not to speak it for fear of your rejection.

Elrond takes each one of your fingers and spreads them apart, laying a kiss on each fingertip before enclosing your hand with his own. Your breath stuttered in your chest as he leaned impossibly closer.

“You know what it means to touch the ears of another elf,” Elrond said lowly. It almost sounds like barely concealed restraint. “Do not tread upon a path you do not wish to walk down.”

You hum softly and grab his chin with your fingers so he will look at you. Trepidation lingers in the depths of the gray irises that stare back into yours. “And if it is a path I wish to tread upon?” You whisper. “Let it be my choice.”

Elrond shudders as your fingers trail upward to tangle in his hair again, and he finds himself unable to breathe as you slowly shift your positions so you can settle yourself into his lap. It's a bold move considering you have done little else outside of resting your head on his shoulder and holding his arm as you venture Lindon's gardens. You're quietly praying that you have not overstepped a boundary.

Elrond doesn’t push you away. He welcomes it. He welcomes you.

He tries to focus on the sights around him to avoid the fear of disappointing you lingering in the back of his mind. You are a sight to behold among Lindon’s gardens. Despite the wonders of the sights around him, none of the flora and fauna that have grown here over the centuries are comparable to you.

“Hey,” You call softly. “Where did you go, nin mel?”

Elrond is not usually one to fumble over his words, but they roll off his tongue before he can stop his rambling, “I do not want to bring any disappointment if I am not what you wish me to be.”

You’d be lying if you said the statement didn’t make you melt. He was so earnest and sweet when it came to ensuring he lived up to what other people wanted but so often gave himself such little credit. “Elrond,” You began, taking his hands into your own to press them against your waist. “I have wanted you for so long. You could never disappoint me, meleth nin.”

You bend your head to the juncture where his jaw meets his neck and place a kiss thereupon. As you anticipate, Elrond groans low in his throat and grasps you more tightly. “Please,” He breathes, breath hot against your ear as you drum your fingers against his neck. “Please touch me.”

It was the closest to a declaration you were going to get at that moment. He wants you to be near to him, to touch him, to be witness to the rawest and most vulnerable parts that he so often hid from everyone else. He had to hide. Who would want to see the human side of the Half-Elven Herald of the King?

You tilt your head and gently graze your fingertips over his ears as he bends his own head to meet your mouth halfway. It's cataclysmic. You've been dreaming about this moment since the first time he asked you to play for him at the very end of one of Gil-Galad's feasts with the other elves who dwelt in Lindon.

Elrond shudders as you come together and lifts a hand to touch your jaw just beneath your own ear.

The action alone causes you to gasp just enough for him to take the opportunity to kiss you more deeply, licking into your mouth with a low groan as you wind your fingers through his hair.

"Elrond," You breathe. The two of you pull away just enough to feel the warm breath of the other on your skin, your fingers twirling circles against his temples as he worked at undoing the braids that hung over your shoulders. You want more of him. You want to bury yourself in his heart and never let anyone hurt him again. "That was-"

"I would very much like to do it again. And again, and again, until you are rendered breathless," Elrond whispers, reaching to the side to pluck a lily from the flower bed before tucking it behind your ear. There is hope lingering on the edge of his tone as he looks at you. A hidden promise for something that you both can chase, not a futile dream he has to chase alone. "But only after I hear you play."

You stand to your feet and motion for the violin case beside him. "One on condition," You reply as you tuck your chin into the base of the instrument and poise your bow against its strings. "There must be more kisses at the end of this song."

You swallow the knot in your throat as the melody begins to echo in the gardens, allowing Elrond the opportunity to lean back on his elbows and peer up at you from his spot on the blanket. "I believe that can be arranged. Is there anything else?" He asks innocently. You raise a brow and pause as his shirt shifts to reveal the skin beneath. Warm, tanned skin that you wanted to... "You're staring. You're going to mess up your song."

"You are distracting me." You retort. "I do have one more condition."

There are several beats of silence between you two as Elrond goes quietly, enraptured by the melody that seems to encompass your entire being as if it comes from the very heart of you. You are the very essence of what makes music beautiful.

When your final note decrescendos into the serenity of the garden's life around you is when you open your eyes to look at Elrond once again.

"What's that final condition?" Elrond asks.

"A date, Elrond Peredhel." You muse, leaning down to return your violin to its case before swooping in to press a kiss to reddened cheeks. "Anywhere and any time. I will leave the rest up to you."

He does not dare move as he watches you walk back towards your rooms. You truly are a marvel, a sight to behold. You are the brightest light that has entered his life since he lost Elros. He would not dare to dim that light.

"Anytime and anywhere," He whispers to himself as he traces his fingers over his cheek. "For all my life-time."

[fiftyfiftyfinchy]

hiiiii !!! if ur taking super specific requests i’d KILL for a george clarke mutual pining roommates fic xx

(request aside super excited to read anything you put out love having more writers in this space !!!)

You had been living with Chris, Arthur, and George for a little over a month, and things had settled into a comfortable routine. The initial chaos of moving in, unpacking, and learning everyone’s quirks had given way to a strange sort of domestic harmony. Chris always made a mess in the kitchen, Arthur had a tendency to leave shoes everywhere, and George? Well, George had a quiet way of slipping into your day without you even noticing.

It started small. Sharing tea in the morning before the others woke up. Folding his laundry when you were taking yours off the drying rack. Helping you hang a picture in your room because you couldn’t quite reach. Little acts of care that seemed so innocent… until they weren’t.

It was the way George looked at you that had your heart racing. Long glances from across the living room, his hand lingering on yours when he passed you something, a certain softness in his smile that you hadn’t seen him give anyone else. It was almost impossible not to notice—and apparently, Chris and Arthur had noticed too.

“Mate, just marry her already,” Chris teased one afternoon when George made you a cup of tea without even asking how you liked it. He’d just… known.

Arthur smirked, lounging on the sofa with a packet of crisps. “Yeah, George, why don’t you just whip up a candlelit dinner while you’re at it? Maybe a little violin music? And a horse-drawn carriage? Go big or go home, mate.”

“You two are insufferable,” George muttered, his cheeks pink as he avoided your gaze. “I’m just being polite.”

“Sure,” Chris drawled, winking at you. “Polite. That’s exactly what I’d call it. You’ve practically turned into a Victorian butler. Shall we start calling you Jeeves?”

You pretended to laugh it off, but your chest felt tight every time something like this happened. And it happened a lot.

When George suggested filming a video together for his channel—“It could be fun, and my viewers love seeing you pop up”—you’d agreed, thinking it would be a good way to shake off the awkwardness. But as you sat together on the living room sofa, the camera rolling in front of you, you realized you had underestimated just how hard it would be.

“Alright,” George said, adjusting the camera, his voice casual but his hands slightly shaky. “Today we’re ranking the best and worst British snacks, and as the resident American”—he glanced at you with a teasing smirk—“you get to tell us why everything we love is terrible.”

“Only if you can handle the truth,” you shot back, grinning. The banter came easily, the tension easing slightly as the video went on. But it was still there, simmering beneath the surface. Every time George’s knee brushed yours, every time his laugh lingered a little too long, every time his eyes flicked to your lips when you weren’t speaking… you felt it.

And you couldn’t stop noticing him. The way his hoodie clung to his shoulders, the curve of his jaw when he laughed, the way his hair always seemed just a little messy in a way that made you want to run your fingers through it. God, you needed to get a grip. This was George. Your roommate. Your very off-limits, very kind, and… irritatingly attractive roommate.

At one point, you leaned over to grab a bag of crisps, and George instinctively reached out to steady you. His hand on your arm was warm, his touch lingering a beat too long. Your eyes met, and for a moment, everything else fell away. You could feel your breath catch, the space between you charged with unspoken words. You weren’t sure if you wanted to kiss him or jump out the nearest window. Maybe both.

“Should we… uh, move on to the next one?” George asked, his voice breaking the silence. He pulled his hand back quickly, like he’d been burned.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “Let’s do it.”

When the video finally wrapped, you let out a shaky laugh. “Well, that was… something.”

George rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. Thanks for doing this. I think it’ll turn out great.”

“Anytime,” you said, meaning it. Despite the tension, you couldn’t help but want more moments like this with him. Except maybe next time you wouldn’t have to fight the urge to crawl onto his lap and ruin everything.

That night, you found yourself in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner. George wandered in, barefoot and wearing a hoodie that was just a little too big on him. He leaned against the counter, watching you in silence for a moment before speaking.

“You don’t have to do that, you know. We can leave it for Chris tomorrow… payback for all the times he leaves us his dishes.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’d rather not wake up to that disaster zone. Besides, it’s… relaxing.”

George stepped closer, taking the plate from your hand. “Let me help, then.”

The two of you worked in companionable silence, the sound of running water and clinking dishes filling the space between you. Every so often, your hands would brush, and every time, your heart skipped a beat. When you finished, George turned to you, his expression soft.

“You’ve really… settled in here,” he said. “It’s nice. Having you around, I mean.”

“It’s nice being here,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. You wondered if he could see the chaos behind your eyes, the absurd fantasies you’d been indulging, like the two of you kissing under the glow of the open fridge or him lifting you onto the counter just because he could.

For a moment, it felt like he might say something more, but then Chris’s voice rang out from the living room. “Oi! Are you two coming back, or should we start the movie without you? Or better yet, just tell us when the wedding is! We’ll plan the stag do!”

George stepped back, the moment slipping away. “We’ll be right there,” he called, his voice steady.

As you followed him back to the sofa, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could dance around this feeling without it consuming you completely. Or worse, making you completely lose your mind.

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer confessing to an artist reader

・❥ Lucifer gets jealous, and has to prove his love for you

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

x: WOW this was a rollercoaster to write. Alastor being petty, a musical number, and.. 😏 you’ll have to read and see!

warnings: Mild swearing

“Mreow?” 

You stirred slightly under the covers in your bed, waking from the noise. You were so warm and cozy, in your little nest of pillows that you hugged to your chest. Stilling yourself, you strained your ears, listening for whatever had awoken you.

“Mreooow,” came that needy, animalistic cry again.

“KeeKee?” You whispered hoarsely.

A high-pitched chirp answered your question.

Grumbling in protest, you grasped the sheets and pulled them from your face. Squinting at the morning light emanating from the large windows on the other end of the room. 

You rubbed a hand down your face, in an attempt to squeeze out the exhaustion still fogging your mind. With a sigh, you pivoted, placing your feet on the cold, wood floor beneath.

Now where was that furball? 

You scanned the room, before your eyes landed on the small black and white cyclopean cat. She sat on your nightstand, her tail swishing with happiness as you answered her call. 

“You silly kitty, what do you want so early in the morning?” You questioned her, and received another chirp as a response.

You always found it fascinating that the small feline was actually the key to the hotel, created by Lucifer’s magic as a gift to Charlie when she took over the place. 

You could feel it, even now, that warm crackle of energy as it flowed off KeeKee’s fur. It was faint, but so familiar. If you buried her face in her fur far enough, you could even smell traces of his scent. 

As you and Lucifer grew closer, so did KeeKee. She had started following around the hotel, always a few steps behind as you traveled the halls. This morning routine of hers wasn’t new either. Before, you’d open your door and find her sprawled out on the ground on her back, her belly exposed as she greeted you. 

You started leaving your door cracked after that, allowing her to enter whenever she pleased. She’d make her bed on the same cushion Lucifer was so fond of while you painted, and drift into sleep. 

Sometimes, you’d use her for practice sketches. Although you could only do so while she dreamed, as she was not as good at sitting still as Lucifer was.

It was almost as if she sensed the connection between the two of you, mirroring your bond with her own loyalty. With a soft smile, you reached out to pet KeeKee, feeling the comforting vibrations of her purrs resonating through your fingertips. 

Rising from the bed, you made your way into the small bathroom. Twisting the sink handle, you let the fountain of water flow into the drain as it is heated. 

Your eyes landed on the object next to the faucet, and you smiled unconsciously as you picked up the yellow rubber ducky. 

“Your new soap dispenser,” Lucifer had stated one evening, “Easily compactible to take it on the go and.. with the scent of apple pie.” 

He demonstrated by softly squeezing the sides of the toy, and a small glob of soap left its mouth and landed into the palm of his hand. 

You had taken it from him and lifted it to your nose, inhaling a deep breath. 

“Delectable.” You teased, before placing it on the table beside you.

After his little performance at the art studio, Lucifer’s affection towards you grew bolder by the day. He often arrived at your room with a gift or two, even more than his silly little ducks. 

Once, he brought you a small violin, the color pure angelic white with golden strings. You had stared at it in awe when he set it on the table.

“It’s white for you to paint,” Lucifer had explained, “Whatever little fantastical ideas you have to cover this instrument with, I just know it’ll be amazing.”

You had blushed, before letting your fingers glide across its smooth surface. Tracing its frame, memorizing its shape. 

“I was going to get you a fiddle, like my own. But, I believe this best suits the musical pieces you are so familiar with.”

You sat across from each other at the dining table in your room, arms resting lazily on its surface as you sipped from your glass of Spiced Apple Wine. 

That was another gift he had brought you. Claiming he only enjoyed the taste of fine-aged wine from his personal cellar. You had gotten used to its slightly sour taste by now, but you were glad for that slight pinch on your tongue. It kept you from ogling Lucifer for too long.

The only light emanating from your room was the candles placed around you, their flames dancing, casting shadows across the walls. The soft ting of piano keys thrummed in the air, flowing from a small brown radio on your dresser.

Not too long ago, Alastor had given it to you for your personal use. A very rare gift from a demon like him. You had just assumed it was his way of getting you on his side, your unease of him must’ve been apparent enough. 

Your years of attempted swindling by potential buyers for your pieces created a sixth sense, the ability to smell when someone’s words didn’t echo their intentions.

Even though you had no animosity towards him, and spoke to him frequently enough that you did not feel any kind of negative intentions from him, his mysterious past and psychopathic tendencies struck you as odd. His presence was dark and cold. 

Nothing like Lucifer’s, who’s aura was so warm and energetic you could get drunk off of it. 

Alastor’s? That would sober you up in an instant.

Why didn’t you feel the same about Lucifer? After all, he had the same charm that swooped those around him off their feet. 

‘His ability to love,’ you concluded in your head, ‘that was why.’

He showed deep care for the people close to him, while Alastor always held people at arms-length. Literally and figuratively.

Your personal feelings didn’t mean you weren’t going to use the radio, so whenever you’d hear Lucifer nearing your room, you’d switch it to polka. Learning by now that was one of his favorite genres. It played in the background as you discussed the violin.

“I think it’s best if you taught me how to play, I might have some knowledge on musical history, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about the instruments themselves.” You had conceded.

He shook his head at that, “Nonsense. If there is anyone I know that could pick up skills like this quickly, it would be you.”

“What makes you think that?” You had laughed.

“Because, you’re amazing. Talented, with passion that could take on the world. You and my daughter have more in common than you think. A drive that I wish I had.”

That had stopped your train of thought, your cheeks heating once more. Most times you would try to brush off his comments, and continue on to the next subject, even if those words made it hard for you to fall asleep that same night.

But this time, you let his words linger in the air between you. The faint glow from the candles illuminating his face, his angelic features intensifying. 

It was your turn to make a move, you couldn’t let him have all the fun.

Slowly, your hand traveled across the table, until your fingers grazed his own. Lucifer never pulled back, instead, he accepted your advance. Lacing his fingers with your own.

The two of you didn’t speak, you didn’t need to. The day could be filled with laughter and quick-wits. But, the night? That belonged to your silent bouts of affection.

Just two pairs of eyes staring out through the large open bay windows, the flickering lights from the city your own little TV. 

What was he thinking about? You had wondered. You were aware of the divorce of his wife years ago, and the fracture of his family still weighed on him. Even if his relationship with Charlie was improving the day. Did he blame himself for his family splitting? 

You had never pried him on such things, there was no reason to bring him more pain. He’d open up about it when he was ready, he always did.

Was that why he was slow to actually ask for your kindness? Your care? 

Your love? 

He was a showman, with a drive to impress strangers around him, to win them over with his charm and flare. But you weren’t a stranger, not anymore. 

There was this tiny parasite that gnawed at the back of your mind, whispering such horrid things of him leaving you if you made the first move. 

‘His pride is too great to let him be swooned completely by a lower demon,’ it hissed, ‘He just wants something casual, nothing truly real,’

Was that true? Would he reject you and move on? Surely, there were much stronger, much smarter demons than you in Hell that he could choose. 

Maybe, you’d just have to grow a backbone and ask him. 

‘Soon’, you promised.

The calming scent that wafted from the candles around the room pulled you away from such thoughts. Instead, you used your free hand to lift the wine glass to your lips, downing the remaining liquor. Your body blooming with warmth as it traveled down your throat, and your head turning fuzzy with bliss. 

A gentle thump as KeeKee landed on the counter pulled you back to reality. You finished washing your face, and placed it into the cool embrace of the small towel in your hands.

Turning away from the sink, you walked back into the main room. KeeKee trailed you as you rummaged through your dresser, plucking out items of clothing as you began to change for the day. 

“Come, KeeKee,” You called, clicking your tongue at her as you strided to the doorway of your room. 

She responded with a chirp and raced past you, out into the hallway. You watched her scurry down the stairs as you headed for the lobby. You were supposed to finish the season of RuGaul’s Drag Race this morning with Angel Dust, and honestly, it was a pretty good show.

Unfortunately, the raised bump in the carpet right in front of your foot had other plans.

“Fuck!” You hissed as you fell forward, your arms instinctually raising to catch your fall.

You hit the ground with an oomph. Luckily, you caught yourself in time to not face any serious injury. Except the sting of your pride. You lay there defeated for a moment, the ache in your arms subsiding slowly.

“Well, hello down there, my friend!” Came a familiar call, static trickling from their voice.

 “Hello, Alastor.” You greeted the Radio Demon with a painful sigh. 

“It appears you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, hm? Let me help you with that.” 

Black tendrils gathered around you, they were unnaturally cold and you squirmed against their touch. 

They tightened around you and lifted you up, up, and up until the soles of your feet were steady on the ground. They flowed off of you, disappearing like a shadow into Alastor’s form.

“Thank you, Alastor. That was very kind of you,” you spoke as you brushed dust off your clothes. You’d need to talk to Nifty about coming to your side of the building more often to clean. 

“It was no problem, my friend. I could not just sit by and allow you to take such an attitude from that silly carpet.” 

Alastor snapped his fingers, and the tiny lump in the carpet that had delivered the tripping blow vanished. Leaving behind a nice, smooth surface.

His head snapped back up to you, that large smile still plastered on his face. You were about to open your mouth again when his gaze landed on something behind you, past the railing.

“Ah, I see you have finished another one of your paintings! What a wonderful piece this is, yes, truly remarkable!” 

He walked forward, and placed one hand on the railing. On the opposite side of the room, at eye level to the second floor, was a painting depicting a very large, glittering lake. A tall forest surrounded it, with massive snowy mountains as the backdrop. 

Small winged-angels sat near the waters, feasting on grapes and wine as they enjoyed the summer sun. Some stood near white-freckled fawns as they fed them fruits and nuts, their faces lit in joyful smiles. 

“Yes, it took me forever. Water is a pain to get perfect. Do you.. think it fits?” 

“Of course it does, my dear!” His enthusiastic voice not missing a beat, “I think Charlie choosing you for this job was a marvelous choice! You must have taken much inspiration from some of the classic artists.. Perhaps Edgar Payne?”

A look of surprise crossed your face. He knew about the famous western landscape artist? Alastor didn’t seem like a fine arts kind of man to you.

“I used some of his techniques, yes. I didn’t know you had such knowledge, Alastor.” You responded, a hint of questioning in your tone. Prompting him to speak more about the subject. 

Alastor waved his hand in the air in a brushing motion, as if it was no big deal.

“Oh, here and there. When I was alive hosting my radio show I once toured an art gallery for an advertisement. His pieces were on display, and I suppose his work has been imprinted in my mind ever since.”

“That’s very interesting, actually. I shouldn’t be surprised though, you seem to be in favor of many classic mediums.” 

“Mm, yes. I just can’t stand the way modern society has seemed to falter from its most creative forms. I’m sure soon they’ll just start paying robots up there to make art for them.”

You doubted that, people using robots to make art? What was the point of it if not created by the human hand?

It was then you caught his eyes darting to something behind you, towards the staircase. Did his eye just twitch?

Alastor’s toothy grin widened further, which you thought couldn’t be possible. Before you could turn around and get a look at whatever had captured his attention, his gaze landed back on you.

He quickly sidled much closer to you, and placed his free hand on your shoulder. Your eyes widened at the touch, he’d never been brazen like this before. Let alone being this close to you. 

Suddenly, he let out a loud, boisterous laugh at nothing particular. His head slightly shook from side to side like he just heard the funniest story in his life, which made you lean back slightly at his very odd actions.

“Oh, my dear, you are such a charm. Truly. I always enjoy our little talks about your ideas. You are so very passionate about your work.” 

Your eyebrows raised in suspicion at his behavior. What was this man up to? 

“We should definitely continue our talks sometime, perhaps, in the comfort of your study?” He questioned, placing his other hand on your shoulder, “Maybe, you could even teach me some of that history you have trapped in your noggin, mmm what was that era called.. the Renaissance?”

Your mouth parted slightly as you contemplated his words. He wanted to learn from you? You had never graced anyone with your teachings other than Lucifer, and you kind of liked it that way.

“Well.. I don’t know if-”

“Ahem.” Came a familiar, male voice from behind the two of you. 

Your words caught in your throat. Uh oh.

You watched Alastor’s grin deepen into a knowing smirk. His eyes snapping to the figure behind you, eyebrows raised. 

You pivoted, seeing the familiar pale face staring intensely at you, practically into your soul. You tried to smile at him, your teeth clenched painfully as you stood besides Alastor. His hand still on your shoulder. 

You tried to speak through your eyes, desperately trying to tell him this was not something you had asked for. You weren’t sure whether he could read it.

Lucifer’s gaze diverted to the hand on your shoulder, and you could feel a crackle of scorching hot energy in the air around you.

“Why, hello there, your majesty.” Alastor greeted him with mock enthusiasm. 

“What a surprise to see you here,” Lucifer responded, a slight growl in his voice. He straightened his back, leaning slightly forward on his staff, as though the scene before him was not a bother. He was terrible at hiding it though. 

“Indeed. My dear friend and I were just discussing their paintings, aren’t they a wonder?”

“Of course they are.” Lucifer responded. 

“We have such good conversations, you know, about their vast knowledge on the subject. It makes me envious really.” 

He released your shoulder from his grasp, and you scooted an inch away from him. 

“Perhaps, one day, you would care to join us? But I'm sure their line of work isn’t something you are interested in, hm?” Alastor’s words left his lips, and Lucifer’s teeth bared at that.

Alastor’s smile intensified as his own energy filled the room, an invisible dual of power was beginning to emerge between the two demons. It reminded you of what happened when Lucifer had arrived at the hotel for the first time, when they had fought for the position as Charlie’s father figure. 

Alastor wasn’t an idiot though, Lucifer could eradicate him at any moment. Was just simply irritating the fallen angel his only motivation?

Was Alastor’s initial conversation with you just to pull the strings of what was happening now? Did he know Lucifer was coming to see you? That sly asshole.

Alastor turned away from Lucifer’s glare, and met your gaze.

“How is that radio doing that I gave you? I hope you’ve been putting it to good use, I was trying my hardest to

think of the perfect gift for you, and I just knew that you would be interested in it.” 

“It was.. nice, thank you.. Alastor.” You responded, afraid what would happen if you ignored his question. 

“My pleasure, dear friend. We’ve been through thick and thin, you and I. It’s only right I share with you a piece of my.. admiration towards you.”

Admiration? 

Lucifer stalked up to the two of you, staring daggers in Alastor’s back. Clearing his throat, he let out a dark chuckle.

“I’m sure your little relationship is over-exaggerated,” He said, his tone passive aggressive, “I’ve hardly seen you in the same room together, let alone have such meaningful conversations.”

“But, of course we do! I was there the first day they walked through those doors. I was the one that welcomed them to their new home, and it was I who furnished their room in the first place. Seeing as barely anything has been changed or moved around, it is safe to say our connection is much deeper than you may think.”

You heard Lucifer growl again. His eyes flickering to a shade of red.

“Well, it’s too bad your gift is useless now.” Lucifer hissed, “They have an instrument of their own, which I have provided them.”

Alastor’s ear twitched at that, and he turned to you in mock fascination. 

“Oh, an instrument? Did you know I used to play in a band?” He turned to you, his questions armed with ill intentions, “I would love nothing more than to give you a lesson or two!”

“I am going to teach them, actually.” Lucifer snapped, “I couldn’t imagine the terrible noises that would come from you plucking strings like a tone-deaf banshee.”

Alastor laughed at that before reaching out and grabbing your hand. You had the growing itch to rip it away, but his stare whispered dark things, and you relented. Allowing him to grip your wrist loosely.

“Well, this has been fun, and I would like to continue our talks,” He addressed you, “But I have important business to attend to within the hotel, as your faithful hotelier. Perhaps, later tonight?” 

Your smile faltered for a second, giving him a slight glare. You weren't going to let him think you were falling for his games.

“Such a shame you have so much attention on you from so many others, those demons on the streets really look at you with such enamoration. My word, just practically begging for your attention! If only you would share all your ideas and knowledge with just me, you’d know how fantastic of a listener I am.”

“Others?” Lucifer asked incredulously.

Alastor ignored him, instead, he did something that you never expected.

He gingerly pulled your hand closer to his face, before leaning down slightly and placing a quick peck to your knuckles. You gasped, placing a hand over your mouth to cease it quickly. 

It was meaningless, you could tell. An act to simply further spur on Lucifer’s rage. 

“Why you pompous little fucking-!” Lucifer roared, but was cut off by Alastor’s maniacal fit of giggles.

Suddenly, the red demon evaporated into a large green cloud of smoke. A gust of freezing wind rushed you as he vanished. Behind you, Lucifer’s large hat was carried with the gust of wind, and he was left practically frothing at the mouth, his hair disheveled from the wind. His eyes still a dark sickly-red. 

You strode up to him, placing a hand on his arm. Trying to get him to look at you. 

“I promise you, we were not talking genuinely just then, Lucifer.” 

“Do you have conversations with that creep when i’m not around? Have you been telling him the same things you’ve shared with me?” 

You rolled your eyes, letting out a breath of hot air. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just getting under your skin. I’ve barely spoken with him.”

“What did he mean by ‘others’? You have suitors that i’m not aware of?”

You leaned back, confusion spreading across your face. Was Lucifer.. jealous? Was the thought of other demons trying to get intimate with you.. bothering him?

“What? Well, I don’t know, maybe. It’s not like I-”

“It’s me who knows almost everything about you. I’m the King of Hell, what can anyone offer you that I can’t?”

What was this? He’s never spoken a word about courting you, which is why your feelings towards his affection were mixed. But now, he wants to? 

“And here I thought I could make it to the overlord meeting in time,” He growled. Before his gaze was renewed with fresh determination.

He grabbed your hand, pulling you closer, and snapped his fingers. 

Before you could blink, the area around you melted and transformed into a beautiful restaurant. You were sitting at an oak table, candles lit around you. A wine glass in front of you.

Lucifer materialized at the seat across from you in a very tight, clean black tuxedo with a red bow tie around his neck.

He gave you a playful smirk, before another figure strode to your table. You looked up, and saw.. Lucifer? Again? This time in a classic waiter outfit, an apron tied around his waist. He held a plate of food in one hand, before setting it down before you. 

“You’re favorite dish, catered by yours truly.” Waiter Lucifer spoke confidently.

You looked down at the foodstuff on the plate, your mouth watering. It really was your favorite dish. You reached out to grab it, before you were thrusted into darkness again.

Where were you now?! 

You were sitting on a very comfortable cushioned chair, and as you whipped your head around, noticed that there were rows and rows of the same kind of chairs. 

“What the hell is going on?!” You yelled to the scene, but received no answer. 

Placed in them were more.. Lucifers? They all whooped and cheered, clapping at whatever was in front of you. You turned your head, taking in the sight before you.

It was a lit stage. The curtain was closed, so you were unable to see what was on it. Suddenly, the curtain lifted, and there was Lucifer again, he held a Violin, similar to the one he gave you, but this time in pure gold.

He looked at you before gliding the bow across its strings, the echoes of its chords filling the room. You perked, recognizing its tune.

It was ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’! The same one he had asked you about when you caught him humming that one time.

Did he learn it… just for you? Your heart fluttered. Was this grandiose display just him trying to prove that he cared about you and your interests?

It continued for a moment longer, the strings on his instrument singing with raw power. It was a beautiful sound, and for a moment you were lost in it. Emotions from your past bubbling inside of you.

And then, he let go of the violin and it began playing on its own. It floated in the air gracefully as its tune continued. He leapt off the stage and landed right in front of your seat. He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it. 

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of where you would be taken next.

“Luci..” You said, giving him a questioning look.

He only smirked at you, his eyebrows raised playfully. You shook your head, a smile blooming on your face at his theatrics, and laced your fingers with his. 

Instead of being thrown into darkness like before, gold flashed around you as he teleported you somewhere distant.

This time, you were on the roof of a very tall building, you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizziness before taking in the sights around you.

You were in Pentagram city, Heaven high above you, it’s white glow helping to light the rooftop like a stage.

Your hand was still gripping his, and he did not pull away. Neither did you. 

Suddenly, a tune began once more. Unfamiliar this

time, and you twisted your head to find where it was coming from, but to no avail. It seemed to be emanating from the entire space around you.

Was there a faint musical number playing in the background, or was that just your imagination?

Lucifer pulled you closer, his classic red and white hats by vest clung to his frame. His hat and overcoat nowhere in sight.

“Lucifer, what are you…” You trailed off, right as he opened his mouth and started to.. sing.

With treasures untold and riches divine,

I offer you the world, to make you mine.

His voice was like velvet, that boisterous playful demeanor apparent as he circled you around, you turned with him, never releasing his hand. He continued, his eyes never straying from you as he sang.

I can offer you kingdoms, castles of gold,

Mountains of riches, for you to behold,

Diamonds that shimmer, like stars in the night,

With every breath, with every sigh,

I’ll lavish you with riches, until the end of time.

His singing ceased, and you were rushed back into reality. You looked at him in awe, enamored by that pretty voice of his. It was ethereal, just like God has designed him to be.

You stood there for a second, eyes fixed on Lucifer’s hand as it entwined with yours. Your gaze traveling to those big, beautiful golden eyes that practically begged for your response. 

In that moment, as the sun above illuminated his pretty face and his shining hair flowing in the gentle breeze, you realized how much you adored- no, loved this man. 

Summoning all of your willpower, you answered. Your lips parted as your tongue began to form words of your own design. You didn’t call up any lyrics from pieces of past design. These words needed to be yours. Needed to say everything you desired and more. 

I don’t want your magic,

I don’t want your gold,

I want your eyes on me,

Until we grow old, 

The words left your lips, soft and buttery, as your confession rang through the air. You desperately hoped your voice didn’t sound like nails against a chalkboard, that it held some resemblance to his own angelic vocals. 

His eyes widened for a moment, before they softened. A sparkle shining in them that wasn’t there before. 

A genuine, heart-melting smile crossed his face as he listened to your words flowing from your tongue so gracefully, like water cascading from the Fountain of Youth.

You took his other hand, pulling him backwards, as you danced across the narrow rooftop, like ballerinas, your footsteps synced and graceful. 

Suddenly, he turned you towards the edge, your heels mere inches from the ledge of the roof. For a moment, you felt like you’d slip and plunge into the depths, but those eyes of his held you steady in your mind.

Until his wings appeared behind him, beating softly, giving you air as he spun you slightly off the rooftop. A pulse of warm energy hit you, and your legs lifted out from under you. Like you were Jane with your Peter Pan, and his magic fairy dust was going to send you gliding off to Neverland.

For a moment, you felt like you had wings of your own. That feeling of absolute freedom, unchained from the ground as you floated for a moment before Lucifer pulled you back to reality.

Your feet hit the rooftop once more and you were breathlessly aware of your heart beating in your throat. Your gaze snapped back to Lucifer once more, and you felt one of his hands lowering to your hip, the other still entwined with yours.

Lucifer leaned forward, and you with him.  Your back curved into an arch as he leaned above you, your lips inches from brushing against each other. You felt like exploding, those butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach threatening to burst.

Both your mouths opened at once, and your words entwined with his as your lips moved once more.

Your caring touch abundantly clear,

It’s all i’ve ever known,

With you my dear, 

I surely fear,

My heart will never be my own.

As your song ended, you felt your heart and mind clear instantly as your truth had finally been told. The look of pure adoration in his eyes was enough to have you trembling under his touch. 

Lucifer pulled you back onto your feet, his breathing heavy and the feathers on his wings ruffled. 

With both hands on your hips, you reached forward and cupped his face. Heat spread across your body as your fingers grazed across the small wisps of hair that curled around his ears.

“Darling, I-”

Before you could let him finish his sentence, you squeezed your eyes shut, and planted your lips against his. He froze for a moment, his breath hitching, before his hands around your waist tightened and he deepened the kiss.

You moved your hands from his face and instead wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping at his shirt collar with hungry desire.

His scent washed over you, and you drank it in with desperation. A sweet, crisp dose of apple cinnamon mixed with faint traces of roses. You thanked Heaven in that moment, for releasing them from their grasp, and right into your arms down here in Hell. 

Your knees hit the ground the same time as Lucifer’s, and you felt the soft touch of his wings as they wrapped around you. Blanketing the two of you from the prying eyes of all the realms. 

He pressed his face harder into yours as he cupped the small of your back. His teeth grazed the bottom of your lip, and you parted your mouth slightly, locking the two of you together even more intensely. 

His lips left yours, and he planted feverish pecks across your cheek all the way to your earlobe. He bit tenderly on it, and you had to squeeze your lips together to stop from whimpering. He continued, trailing down your neck with hungry kisses, before burrowing his face into your shoulder blade.

You felt his teeth graze the artery in your neck, and you gasped, grasping at his hair desperately as pleasure coursed through your veins. His breath hot against your skin, tickling it.

“Fuck,” You moaned, and his response was to push you farther into bliss as he suckled on your neck. Waves of pleasure hit you once more, and you began to sloppily kiss the top of his shoulder, slightly exposed from your roughhousing.

Lucifer tightened his grip around you, pulling you as flush to his body as he could manage. You both sat there on your knees in a mix of breathless gasps and hums of pleasure.

You did not want this moment to end. Finally, the both of you had opened yourselves up to your true feelings. You smiled at the thought, and planted a kiss on his earlobe as he lifted his head slightly from your neck.

Suddenly, the watch on Lucifer’s wrist buzzed violently, and you heard him curse under his breath.

“Is that for your meeting?” Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Unfortunately,” He grumbled, before switching off the noise. He didn’t move from his position though, and you realized he was going to try and skip out on it.

“You should go.” You spoke, almost a command.

“Why? They’ve been fine without me for this long.”

“You’re the king,” You retorted, meeting his gaze sternly, “Go do your job, i’m not going anywhere.” 

His look of distraught at having to depart sent another wave of butterflies into your body. You couldn’t help but smile before giving him another quick peck on the lips.

“Go.”

“Fine.” 

You both stood up, and his wings uncurled around your body, disappearing into his back. His fingers still with yours, as he reached down for his hat that lay on the ground beside you. You released his grip and fixed his bow tie. Pulling his overcoat back neatly onto his frame, and adjusting it slightly. 

You wiped the sweat off his forehead and smoothed down his hair. Attempting to tidy him up as quickly as you could so he wouldn’t be late. He smiled warmly as you fussed over him.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” You spoke softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “I need a way off this roof.”

He smirked, before grasping his staff and tapping it against the ground. 

A flurry of gold wafted around you, and that same energy tickled at the back of your neck just like it did at the art studio. His face blurring from the cascading waves of warm light that wrapped around you.

“See you soon, My Love,” His voice echoed as your eyes shut and you felt that pull of energy. That feeling of floating on thin air hit you again, as you were warped away. 

“There you are!” Angel dust threw his arms in the air in exasperation a few feet away from you, as the particles of gold that floated above you disintegrated. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the lights in the lobby. 

“Where were you this morning? I had to watch the final episode all by myself!”

Shit. That’s right. You placed a hand on your forehead, berating yourself silently for forgetting. Although you weren’t too regretful about missing out on it for Lucifer.

“I’m so sorry, Angel. I just got.. busy, I guess.”

He shrugged, brushing off his slight irritation. 

“It’s alright, ain’t nobody hurt from it.”

He was going to turn away, towards the bar where Husk was readying drinks for the two of them, before his gaze narrowed in somewhere on your figure.

“Wait, what the fuck is on your neck?” He asked suddenly, his eyes giving you a questioning stare, as he motioned towards it.

You looked at him confused, before reaching up and running a few fingers down the side of your throat. Your eyes flew wide open in surprise, and your hand cupped your mouth as you felt it. Your cheeks set on fire instantly.

Apparently, as a final gift, Lucifer had left a rather large hickey in the crook of your neck. Both Husk and Angel leaned in to get a better look at it, their eyes widening in surprise. 

“That dickhead finally did it, huh?” Husk spoke up, a knowing smirk on his lips as he cleaned glasses behind the bar.

Angel’s eyes lit up in delight, and he squeezed his own cheeks as realization dawned on him.

“Fucking finally! Does that mean you two are a thing now?”

You contemplated for a moment, before meeting Angel’s gaze once more. A smirk growing on your lips. 

KeeKee appeared at your feet, rubbing at your ankles in greeting. You gingerly reached down and picked her up. She was so soft to the touch, and you caught the faint scent of Lucifer once more as she nestled into your chest.

“I guess so,” You finally replied once you situated the cat into your arms, “Now if you excuse me, gentleman, I need a breather.” 

Angel whistled flirtatiously behind you as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the growing heat that hit your cheeks once more.

——

a/n: let me know your thoughts!! i almost didn’t added the little singing bit but i cracked my knuckles and summoned the lyricist in me to have some fun. I mean, it can’t be Hazbin Hotel without a song right?

tag list: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox

[glitchtricks94]

Dancing feat. One Piece Men!

Genre: Fluff Content Warnings: None Characters: Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Buggy, Shanks, Zoro, Sanji, Brook, Jinbe x Reader (separate) Summary: A simple group of separate drabbles loosely tied together over one theme; dancing with them. Network: @pixelcafe-network Kick back, relax, and enjoy~

Dracule Mihawk

Dancing with Mihawk is a once in a blue moon activity, treating such a thing with you with reverence and seriousness, almost taking it to levels that rival his dedication to his swordsmanship. He rarely likes to break the soothing sound of silence with anything outside of your voice, so even convincing him to allow you to put on a record of gentle piano or the sweetened notes of a longing violin are a stretch. The occasions he allows such a thing are either special or when he’s in a very warm and affectionate mood, which is rare, as previously mentioned, but if it isn’t the sweetest thing you’ve ever experienced when he puts on a record, one you’ve noted as being your favorite many moons ago when you both just barely began sharing a homestead, of his own accord, turning to you with eyes that normally were sharp and focused now filled with saccharine sweet honey of affection. Holding out a hand, he silently asks you a question, one that you could never refuse, giving your answer to him easily in the form of your hand in his as he gently tugs you towards his frame, no resistance on your end. He’s careful, steps precise. After Mihawk learned that you tended to sway gently when you chose to embrace him for longer periods of time, he took to the potential idea that you perhaps were fond of dancing. He could never find it in his heart to deny you something so simple. He began to practice during his time away from you when his work wasn’t consuming him. You always held his heart when you both were separated, as he held yours, so one night when he returned, exhausted and worn, he allowed the small jolt of energy you often shot through him to take root, as he pulled you to his chest and began to sway with you. You instantly fell into step with him, a joyous glow glittering in your eyes, one that Mihawk made sure to commit to memory as he leaned in to steal a weary kiss.

Mihawk’s movements grew more calculated the next time he chose to pull you into a dance, his eyes watching yours carefully as you gazed up at him with sheer adoration. Satisfaction radiated off him in waves, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he expertly guided you as if you’ve both already performed this routine a million times over. He twirled you out, away and back into his grasp, moving to put you in a low dip, lips grazing your neck in a feather light kiss. “My, aren’t you turning on the charm, tonight,” you teased, taking note of the small tick of a smirk pulling at the lips of your lover. A microscopic movement, really, but if your attention to detail didn’t help you decipher this man, then you felt as though he wouldn’t be twirling you in his arms right this moment. “Perhaps such an observation is correct, my rose,” Mihawk hummed, holding you close to his chest, seeming to enjoy the feeling of your hand in his, the other resting gently on his shoulder as you both silently danced towards an open balcony. The moonlight outside bathed both of you in an ethereal glow as your dance came to a close, Mihawk once more dipping you and pressing a kiss to your neck. “Consider me under your spell, my dear,” you crooned, eyes falling half lidded as a smile painted your features, Mihawk mirroring your expression in his own, beautifully stoic way.

“Good. I would expect such a thing from my betrothed,” Mihawk hummed, pulling you back up to where your chest was pressed against his once more. He trailed a hand up your arm to gently brush his fingers along your jawline, golden eyes memorizing every detail. “What’s such a tender look doing on your face, dearest?” “I do believe that it isn’t a crime to admire how my intended looks on a night such as this one.” “Oh, such poetry!” You gasped dramatically, a laugh escaping you and a sigh from Mihawk’s nose, his head shaking at the theatrics you posed. “You’re worse than that damned clown at times, my rose.” “Now, that’s just mean,” you snickered, playfully swatting Mihawk’s shoulder as he released another chuckle from his throat. “Is that so? Then, tell me, how could I ever earn your forgiveness?” “Kiss me again?” “As you wish, my rose,” Mihawk utters before sealing his lips to yours and guiding you back inside to continue your dance of passion.

Sir Crocodile

Any kind of dancing is rare with Crocodile, but when he indulges in a dance or two, he always ensures to take your breath away. He may be a large man, but with his own skill and a dash of help from his devil fruit abilities here and there, he’ll make it feel as though you both were gliding on thin air. When Sir Crocodile dances, he often chooses a simple waltz, a particular form you had said was a favorite of yours when it came to a more romantic atmosphere, it was something simple, yet elegant. Fitting for you in his opinion, as you never gravitated towards things that were gaudy and overly expensive; refreshing if not a tad relieving. He enjoyed and relished that you reveled in his attention rather than his wallet. Attending an upscale function with other influential figures of the past decade, you on his arm looking around with a practiced eye, your gaze trailing up to his disinterested face and locking eyes with him, Crocodile effortlessly navigated the room, talking with those of interest before taking a seat at the bar with you. He always seemed to find the most exciting detail about any location to be whether or not you are beside him, his time in Impel Down only further perpetuating such a thing and drawing him closer. Tonight, he seemed to feel more bold than usual about his attachment to you, as when the provided orchestra began to play a slower tempo, he stood, looking to you with practiced ease. “Would you care for a dance, my treasure?” He asked, his voice low enough for you to hear but not draw the attention of others. You simply flashed him a brilliant smile as you stood from your position atop the barstool, stepping right into his open grasp with so much trust and confidence, Sir Crocodile could shed a sarcastic tear of pity. He truly didn’t know why you held such confidence in him to not hurt you, given you bore witness to his treatment of others when they outgrew their usefulness to him. Perhaps he should unpack that another time. Stepping out onto the dancefloor, Sir Crocodile easily pulled you to him and twirled you into a perfect position, the two of you effortlessly synching up with each other, him taking the lead. That feeling as if you were both dancing on thin air swept over you, and you found yourself unable to look away from your beloved’s face, his expression cold, and eyes barely glittering with enough warmth to be counted as a mere ember from the bonfire you had constructed from within his chest. You were utterly captivated by him and he knew it.

Oh, such a pretty gem you were, polished to perfection in the fine garb he had chosen for you to wear that evening, that glorious glimmer in your eye reminding him of mountains of gold as you lost yourself in his presence; it all dripped down and settled on Crocodile’s tongue like a finely aged wine. He simply couldn’t get enough. The dance ended with a simple bow to him, his hand never leaving yours as he returned the gesture, tucking his hook behind his back before you both stood upright once more, returning to your previous stances with you hanging off of his arm the way he preferred. The evening was folding to a close for you both, as Crocodile’s patience was beginning to crumble with those around him and you could feel your eyelids begin to grow heavier. Solitude was needed for you both. What you never expected when you returned home was for your much larger lover to pull you closer to him once more and perform a few simple steps to the waltz you performed earlier with him that very evening, eliciting a soft, sugary laugh from your throat to match the smug smile he wore on his charred face. “You’re more energetic than I thought!” You snickered, looking up at Sir Crocodile with mirth dancing in your eyes. “Savor it, my treasure, for it will not last long.” “I never said I wouldn’t, my sun,” you coo before you found your lips taken in a long, languid kiss.

Buggy The Clown ~700 words

Buggy was never really the dancing type. At least, not with all those unflashy, fancy types of moves. Buggy was made to sparkle, shine and forever be in the spotlight; the eccentricity, the wild charm, the loud, booming voice, that’s what made Buggy who he was! It was quite the contrast to when he met you, a rowdy, but rather traditional performer at some pirate pub he and his crew crashed at after a rough stint on the waters. Somehow, after the liquor and cocktails poured like waterfalls, he managed to charm you into joining his crew as the pretty little thing that hung on his disembodied arm. Buggy was honestly elated that you joined as he could hardly take his eyes off you, and the crew often went to you if they needed the clown to loosen up a bit on everyone, to which you were happy to put on the facade of the pouty lover who wanted more “Buggy time,” as you phrased it. It worked often and actually helped your beloved captain de-stress as well. It was during these days that Buggy learned more about what kind of performances you often did while back on that pint sized island you used to live on. You often loved to dance, stuff that reminded him of some prissy ballet dancers he came across ages ago, except, you seemed to blend it with older ballroom dances. Hell if he knew which ones, though, he’s a clown, he’s bright and flashy not overly fancy, and Buggy was sure as anything not about to start making fundamental changes about himself or his lifestyle. Blue eyes trailed after your spinning figure, watching you with content pooling in their gaze as a relaxed, red painted smile rested below them. Your hands were raised as if someone was holding them as you began to spin, giving Buggy an idea. His smile morphed into a playful smirk as he popped off his hands, floating them over to slot over yours. Your eyes shot up to the foreign feeling that tickled at your fingers, a smile overtaking your features seeing such familiar leather trying to anchor to your hands. So he was finally taking you up on your offer!

You easily twined your fingers with Buggy’s, hands slotting together like puzzle pieces, your eyes darting to his with a sparkle in them as you resumed dancing, twirling and tugging his hands as he pulled at your own, causing constant missteps in your little performance before starting to just use his strength to spin, pull, and maneuver you to his heart’s content, laughter filling the air. “Buggy, baby, darling, my sweet little candy coated gumdrop,” you call, playfulness dripping from your voice. Buggy groaned and looked at you with a deadpan stare for a moment before melting into a fit of giggles. “Yes, my star?” “Will you finally be allowing me to teach you bits of my routine? You know I’ve been wanting to!” You said, your tone taking on a slightly melodic quality. Buggy hummed before shrugging upon seeing you give him your infamous puppy eyes. “Alright, alright,” he huffed, no real annoyance in his voice. Getting up from his perch on a barrel, Buggy trotted over to you, a lazy smile slowly painting over his features until he stopped in front of you, raising his arms and reattaching his floating body parts to himself. “Start teaching, starlight. You got yourself a student here.” You let out a giggle as you started trying to show him how you moved through your moves so fluidly, Buggy clumsily copying your movements and grabbing onto you to keep his balance more often than he would ever dare to admit. Buggy would also never admit to purposely messing up whenever he fell down just so he could see your smile and hear your encouraging words. He’d never tell you that whenever you gifted him your beautiful praise, love and encouragement he felt as if he was tasting a sweet honey on his tongue, that he valued your words more than anyone else’s. It’s such a shame he can’t hide such things from you, but you don’t mind keeping your lips sealed. “C’mon, honey, let’s try again!”

Red-Haired Shanks

You didn’t take him for a dancer. A partier? Oh, yes, good times always rolled with Shanks. A drinker? Absolutely, you could guess he could empty twenty barrels of booze by himself. A dancer? That was unexpected. You felt a bit silly, however, as Shanks was all about having a good time and sharing the happiness with others. It was practically integral to him as a person. “You’re staring again,” came the voice of the ever so calm Benn Beckman, first mate and your most trusted confidant. “I have no idea what you’re talking ‘bout, Beck,” you drawled, sipping more rum from your glass. Beckman’s charcoal gaze met yours over the rim of your drink, an expression of exasperation being worn on his features. “What’s that look for?” “You know exactly what it’s for,” Benn huffed, pulling a cigarette from the case he often carried with him, a lighter following suit as he lit up the end and took a deep inhale. You scrunch your nose as he blew the smoke in your face upon exhaling. “No, I don’t. Please, enlighten me,” you spoke, waving your hand to clear away the excess smoke from your face. “You’ve been staring at Shanks more often than not, lately,” Benn explained, directing his attention to his old friend, who was gladly dancing with a woman, smiling and twirling her with ease. He peered at you through the corner of his eye, seeing your glare being directed at Shanks and the bar goer. If Benn knew you wouldn’t punch him, he’d say he spotted a little green in your eye. “‘Specially when the guy starts dancing around while having a good time. Hell, even when he’s just sitting and drinking with us, you hardly look away. It’s getting pathetic at this point.” “Don’t you have women to charm, Beckmann?” You asked, trying to ignore how you managed to allow Ben to call you out on your behavior. Were you really that obvious?

“Don’t you have a move to make?” “Keep your nose out of my business,” you pouted, earning a full blown laugh from him. “I’d love to, really, I would, but you keep bringing it up during our late night chats.” “Come on, you know I’m drunk when I bitch at you!” “Not drunk enough to forget him, though, right?” Benn teased, pulling genuine amusement from your flustered reactions, your face painted red from embarrassment rather than the four drinks you’ve had within the last few hours. Which is why Benn Beckman, your dear friend, didn’t mention that the reason Shanks even began taking to dancing was because he had mentioned you had told him that you used to be a traveling dancer before you decided to ultimately settle in with the crew. He only told Shanks about it after overhearing a comment on how good your footwork was during a sparring session. No one could ever rip the tones of nostalgia that rang out from your voice whenever you spoke of all the performances you gave to those on the streets of many island streets. Which is another reason why Benn chose to not tell you that Shanks was approaching the table with a determined glimmer in his eyes. “Well, well, look at you two. I’m not interrupting a lovers’ spat, am I?” Shanks teased, moving to one side so he could drape his arm across your shoulders where you sat. He let out a light chuckle when you practically jumped three feet in the air.

“Fucking hell!” You screeched, glaring at your captain now. “We need to put a bell on you or something!” Shanks pulled his arm away to raise it in mock defense. “Never meant to scare ya!” He laughed. “It’s fine,”  you sighed, running a hand down your face, noting that Benn had slipped away, leaving you alone with the captain of both your crew and your personal fantasies. “Need anything, cap?” “Oh, nothing much, maybe a dance with you?” Shanks asked casually, making you blink in surprise. You began to take note of the atmosphere in the bar; softer music was fluttering through the air as voices quieted down, a few stray couples moving about the room and occupying the dancefloor when you stole a glance at it. To top it off, the man that’s been haunting your heart in the dead of night is now standing before you, asking you to indulge in your old passion with him. You felt like you were dreaming as you mustered an awkward smile and took his hand in yours. You’ve never felt so light as you swayed gently with Shanks, his hand in yours and your other arm nearly looped around his neck. You swore that he seemed to be as elated as you were with the turn of events. As the song went on, Shanks shifted his grip, moving so his arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Shanks couldn’t believe how dazzling you were while dancing, letting him to lead you about with ease, thankfully not noticing when he misstepped because he got too lost in your eyes. You were so relaxed, looked so content and felt so right in his grasp, he could hardly stand it. Alas, everything came to a close and he was left hungry for more. “Thanks for the dance,” Shank hummed, smiling warmly at you. “Mind if I get another sometime?”

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro and dancing are two words that don’t seem to mix well, much like oil and water. It never suited him, and he never held any interest. He had goals to pursue, a dream to chase, there was no time for something like dancing. Zoro felt like his world was flipped upside down when Luffy came back to the ship with you in tow. A bright smile painted Luffy’s features as he excitedly told the crew about how cool you were; how he saw you dancing while in the middle of town, practically manipulating fire to your will like his brother did, stars glittering in his eyes while you basked in the compliments with a bashful blush coloring your cheeks. It’s been a few weeks now, and Zoro, alongside the rest of the crew, have all seen your skills at work with your creative and fiery dances, the batons you twirled captivating them, the batons now doubling as your weapons with a little tune up from both Usopp and Franky. Zoro often found himself impressed by your skills, watching you perform to lively music happily composed on the spot by Brook, the sheer concentration you held earning a deep, unwavering respect from the swordsman. Eventually, Zoro began to pay closer attention to you/ First it was the way you shared different smiles with those around you; the bright ones that made your eyes crinkle shut as you laughed with Luffy, the calm, gentle grins you mimicked with Robin as you both spoke over tea on deck, the coy smirks you’d throw at Sanji when he swooned over you, and the sheepish smiles you’d give Brook when he complimented your practiced routines after finished sets, just to name a few. His favorites were the ones that you’d share with him, however. When Zoro’s around, he sees you visibly relax more, his eyes noting that you’d let him see you at your most natural, your attention on him feeling easy, feeling right, and the matching cast of expressions stilling a strange twist in his chest he got when you were with someone like Sanji. He even noticed you hanging around more when he was training, the attention feeling good. You brought in another sense of comforting routine, until a simple question hit him out of left field.

“Why don’t you let me teach you how I dance?” You asked one day, making Zoro shift his attention to you out of the corner of his eye. “I think you’d have fun.” That gave Zoro pause for a moment, the swordsman placing the weights he was using down to fully face you, his face painted in bewilderment. “Why would I do that?” “For fun?” “No. I don’t think so,” Zoro spoke, shaking his head and folding his arms over his chest. You pouted slightly before shrugging and getting to your feet. “Oh well, I guess I’ll just leave you with your shoddy footwork,” you quipped, a smirk playing on your lips while you made your way to the crow’s nest entrance. You knew you had him hooked. “Hey! What do you mean shoddy?!” Zoro barked, moving to catch up to you. You looked at him over your shoulder with a shrug. “Just saying, you might wanna focus on your footwork. The world’s future greatest swordsman needs to be kept up in top shape,” you spoke, brushing Zoro off, much to his annoyance. “I mean, I could teach you an effective way to improve, but you wouldn’t be interested.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “What I’m saying is that I could help you improve your footwork, but you won’t like how.” “If you think you can show me a better way to improve, I’d like to see it,” Zoro huffed, reaching out and grasping your shoulder with his heavy palm. You flashed him a smile, one that made his stomach feel strange. “Hope you like cardio.” In a flash, the two of you were on the deck of the Sunny, the warm rays of sunshine bathing over you two as you demonstrated the forms for your routine, gently guiding and correcting Zoro’s stances with a patience unlike he’s ever seen you carry over to others. He could swear you were somehow calmer than Robin as you took him through each step of the dance you had performed countless times, the attention feeling charged between you somehow. Each brush of your hand seemed to electrify his skin and make a strange ache in his chest appear while simultaneously leaving Zoro craving more of it. It was both revolting and addicting, the combating feelings that surged through him clashing like sharpened blades. “Excellent stance, Zoro, it’s perfect!” Your voice snapped him out of his strange daze, his tunnel vision focus returning swiftly. He grunted in response as you beamed at him. “It’s not that difficult, anyone could do this,” he huffed. You smirked at him once more. “Oh, really?” you spoke, placing your hands on your hips. “Let’s try doing all of this to tempo now.” “Yohoho!” Brook chortled, happily strolling over to both you and Zoro at the signal of your hand, violin perched on his shoulder and bow clutched in his boney phalanges. “From the top!” You were pleased to see Zoro struggling to copy your fluid movements, it was quite the sight!

Vinsmoke Sanji

Ever the romantic, Sanji always found the act of a romantic dance filling some part of his dreams among the usual thoughts of Nami and Robin and recipe ideas he’d love to try out to win their hearts. It was just in his very nature to try and be as charming as he could be after the rushes of excitement in his blood died down, throwing on a cool smile and spouting soft, flirtatious words at whatever beauty managed to capture his attention. You and Sanji both joined the crew around the same time that Luffy, Usopp, Zoro and Nami all arrived at, and subsequently nearly destroyed, the Baratie. You, bright eyed and utterly stunning, were a scrambling, stuttering mess of a waitress desperately trying to fulfil the expectations set upon you by Zeff, and frankly, you weren’t meeting his expectations. It was almost nostalgic looking back at those days and as he saw you now, Sanji couldn’t take his eyes off you. Your bright, outgoing smile captured his heart as he felt the familiar rush of joy flood his system. You’d grown so much over the time you both sailed with Luffy and the crew, and seeing the side effects of that progress was like looking directly at the sun; warm, brilliant and blinding. You were all supposed to be docking at another island, and according to Usopp, it looked like the place was populated and gearing up for a festival. Any suspicions were confirmed as the Thousand Sunny pulled into port, the locals welcoming them with open arms to share in the spirit of generosity, everyone truly wishing to spread the very rare goodwill. Luffy, as expected, was ecstatic and instantly reciprocated. Nightfall came, and the lights of the lanterns and street poles filled the cobblestone streets, tall tiki style torches illuminating the beach where the heart of the festival took place. Sanji was in heaven as he took in the sight of so many beautiful women clad in their beachwear, compliments pouring from his mouth like a waterfall. Standing at the sidelines of the celebration, you watched the blond chef flirt and woo numerous women, the sight leaving a bad taste in your mouth. You had been wanting to try and see if Sanji would be willing to share a dance with you, and you’d been building your courage up bit by bit throughout the day. You loved dancing, you always felt so free whenever Brook or Chopper or Usopp let you hang around and try out different moves with them, often ending up in a tangled pile of limbs and laughter. Watching him get so distracted by other women, however, you felt any confidence beginning to crumble. You shook your head, washing away your thoughts.

You took a deep breath before strutting into the fray, making your way to Usopp, who was happily telling his stretchy stories to an awed crowd of locals, the look of wonder filling their beings being endlessly amusing to you as you knew the truth and Usopp was a rather terrible liar in your opinion. You started laughing, your smile returning and catching the attention of the blond lovecook. Everything seemed to brighten for Sanji the moment his eyes grazed a glimpse of that smile you bore, the world and other women becoming a bit duller compared to you. His gaze never left your form as you floated about the party before your eyes met and you swiftly made your way to him. “Sanji!” you cheered, stepping in front of him and taking his hands in yours, soon tugging him to follow you towards the makeshift dance floor. “C’mon, dance with me!” Sanji felt his heart crawl into his throat as he wordlessly followed you, trying to keep his composure. Where you happily moved and twirled to the music provided, Sanji followed after in time, easily stepping into the mold set before him for the roadmap of your movements. He couldn’t say this didn’t graze his ideal of a beautiful, romance fueled swing or even a hot, tension filled tango, but he couldn’t say he didn’t fully enjoy this experience with you. The night wore on, and things were slowing down, the tempo of the music dropping as the crowd began to trickle back inland. Sanji had lost track of both time and you. He figured you must have wandered off after he closed his eyes for a moment too long, your figure being swept away in the crowd. He couldn’t find you on the beach, and when rudely questioning Zoro, he learned you had left to catch your breath further inland. Sanji wasted no time searching for you, looking up and down the cobblestone pathways and streets until he found you alone on a bench, looking up at the stars. You looked peaceful under the light of the moon, and once more Sanji was captivated. 

Moving closer, he cleared his throat, throwing on a cool smile as he approached you. You turned to look at him as soon as you heard the sound. “Hey.” “Hey, couldn’t find you back on the beach.” “Oh, sorry, I got a little overwhelmed. I wanted a bit of quiet,” you explained weakly. “Mind if I join you?” Sanji asked. You smiled weakly, leading him to come sit beside you on the bench. Sanji looked up at the stars above you both. “It’s a beautiful night.” “Yeah, I guess it is…” “Are you alright?” “Yeah, ‘M fine, just…” you sighed, trying to steady yourself. “You seemed like you were having fun, why’d you look for me?” “Because I wanted to make sure you were okay. You mean a lot to me, you know,” Sanji replied, his flirtatious mask falling in favor of a semi-serious exterior. “I’m fine, like I said, but I guess, I dunno, you looked like you were having more fun around those other women.” “I was having fun, but I still enjoy my time with you. You’re every bit as lovely as any of those other beauties, you know. You’re like an angel; warm, beautiful and sweet,” Sanji said, directing his gaze to you, his visible eye filled with warmth. It made you ache. “Not really...I couldn’t even ask you to dance like a normal person, I just sort of…dragged you away into it.” “I didn’t mind! I loved it,” Sanji exclaimed, placing a hand over one of yours. “Although, if you still wanted to ask, I wouldn’t be opposed.” “But there’s no music or-” “Hush. Listen closely.”

Silence swept over the two of you, the sounds of the sea and distance tunes of a slower song filling the air blanketing over you both, causing your face to warm. “Oh,” you spoke, face warming as your mind caught up to your racing heart. You awkwardly cleared your throat and looked up at Sanji, a shy smile on your face. “Uhm, would…would you like to dance with me, Sanji?” He certainly knew you didn’t need to answer with nothing more than a nod before pulling you close. Sanji swifty slotted you against him, one hand placing itself on your lower back to pull you closer whilst his other took your hand in his, your free palm resting itself on his shoulder as he slowly began to sway. You followed him perfectly, your eyes never leaving him as you felt a trance wash over you. Sanji was a man that breathed romance and longing, it came naturally to him, and the romantic dance he was sharing with you displayed this trait perfectly as you both became lost in one another.

Soul King Brook

You and Brook blended together perfectly; a dancer from the warm islands of the South Blue, a musician from the tides of the West Blue, it felt as though you both were destined to intercept one another in a beautiful courtship ever since you stepped foot on the Thousand Sunny. All Brook wishes for is that he had met you sixty years sooner, then he could’ve been the man he honestly felt you deserved, with flesh and muscle aiding in his capabilities to show his sheer adoration for you. The skeletal musician expressed as such to you, and you gleefully chased those thoughts away with honey sweet words, warm hands on his skull and a loving kiss to his teeth before shepherding him into a sweeping swing number that always melted his nonexistent heart. Brook always counted his lucky stars whenever he was able to see you dance; it was your trade accompanied by a pretty voice befitting a siren’s croon when you sang along to the melodies he spun. He felt so lucky your little musical family was more than happy to see you off as the crew set sail away from your home island, all of them cheering for you to write and live well alongside him and his crewmates. Another day was passing as Brook listened to your voice float gently beside the notes he worked from his violin, your eyes closed and hands resting just below your throat from the barrel you claimed as your perch. The skeletal musician couldn’t help but find himself wandering through the sound of your voice, his reverie only broken by a sharp, misplaced rub of his bow and slip of his finger, causing you to falter and look at him with wide eyes. You staggered a giggle before breaking out in laughter, Brook joining in soon after. “You’re losing yourself again, maestro,” you teased, getting up and taking a few short steps to stand before your lover. “It would seem so, my muse,” Brook replied, tucking his beloved violin and bow to his chest to free his other hand and lovingly brush the tips of his phalanges over your cheekbone. “But could you really blame this old pile of bones? Why, you’re singing so sweetly you could raise the dead! Yohoho!”

Brook felt a joyful warmth spread deep through the marrow when he saw you laugh and reach for him. He gave pause when you plucked his prized instrument from his arm and placed them where you previously sat, turning back to him with a glimmer in your eye. Brook’s slightly hunched posture, born from curiosity, instantly straightened when you held out your hand to him. “Well, can your dear muse have this dance with the dead?” you asked, earning yourself another laugh from Brook. “You hardly need to ask, dearest,” he replied, easily taking your much smaller hand in his own, both of you swiftly stepping closer and beginning to fall into step, Brook expertly guiding you like he’s nearly always done, the world feeling as though it was melting away until all that could paint its canvas being the colors of your love. You looked up at Brook’s face, eyes trailing over every crevice the bones revealed to you among the wild mane that he forever wore. You cracked a humored smile. “Hm? Now just what is going through your mind, lovely?” “Oh, just the first few times we tried dancing together,” you answered, a delighted titter leaving your frame as you were gracefully twirled and pulled back to Brook’s side. “We were both so clumsy, trying to learn how to place and balance ourselves!” “Yohoho! Indeed we were! I certainly wasn’t used to a small, young thing like yourself wanting to sway with me!” Brook chortled. “Always wanting to lead was also quite fun to counter,” you felt heat creep up your face as you looked away in embarrassment as your skeletal love pulled you ever closer to him, leaning in to whisper into your ear. “You were quite the fun little challenge, muse.”

You let out a squeal after his whisper ghosted over your ear, a sharp pinch to your thigh helping ground you both back into the moment. You barked out a laugh as you pushed Brook back, the dead man stumbling as he cackled at your reaction. He knew you didn’t mind, you hardly ever did. “You little sneak!” You laughed, looking up at brook with narrowed eyes and a sharp smile, voice holding no real bite. “How dare you toy with me! I’m just your vulnerable, little muse! Your sweet dancer, your beloved siren!” Brook let out another chortle as he bowed to you, taking your hand in his and bringing it close to his teeth. “That you are, my dear. All those things and so much more,” he cooed, affection dancing in his tone before you felt the chilled, smooth press of bone against the warmth of your knuckles. “I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive this smitten soul king.” You couldn’t stop the gentle expression that bloomed over your features, your heart fluttering like the graceful wings of a butterfly to match. “I could never stay too angry with a gentleman like you, I suppose,” you said, meeting your eyes to empty sockets. “Though, I would like you to make it up to me.” “And how may I do that, my dear?” “I think you know how, lovely,” you hummed, Brook letting out a soft ‘yohoho’ with your antics. He swiftly followed your thoughts, twirling you and sweeping you away in yet another dance, one that only you two could truly feel the music and vocals within your very souls.

First Son of the Sea Jinbe

The calm in your storm is how you would describe Jinbe. He always had a way of dragging you back down to Earth should your thundering thoughts ever send you into orbit, acting as your guide whenever you find yourself lost in the sea of a starless sky within your mind. Gentle, strong, comforting, warm, Jinbe was perhaps everything you could ever dream of having in a lover and more. It had to definitively be more given the added grace that Jinbe was attempting to carry in this awkward sway you both found yourselves in. Keyword: attempting. Deep in the night while the ship was docked and the others were on shore unwinding and enjoying themselves, you and the towering fishman were on deck, a dial emitting soft music over the dimly lit areas that populated the Thousand Sunny, the pair of you pressed close together and awkwardly trying to dance along to the romantic ambiance that you curated. Jinbe had one hand resting on your shoulder, the other carefully cradling the back of your head, your own hands resting on his much broader chest, the size difference between you two being terribly stark in this position. You never minded such a thing, you always saw just how much of a gentle giant your beloved could be, the way he carried himself and treated others being a tipping point that sent your heart overboard. Such a characteristic shone brighter than the sun with how carefully Jinbe touches you. You looked up into the beautiful purple eyes that decorated Jinbe’s features, his expression softening as he watched your growing smile glow in the soft lights around you both. Jinbe felt himself falling in love all over again whenever you look at him this way; like he had just hung your moon and stars, like he was the only person in the world, like he was all yours. And he was, and always would be. When you first brought up this little idea for a simple date for you two, Jinbe found himself unsure, as his life was dedicated to being that of a trained warrior, not a man meant to glide across a ballroom floor. Several times throughout the weeks at sea he had to remind himself that you would not be disappointed in him for failing to perfect a simple box step, you’d just look at him like you do now, beaming with delight that he simply put in the effort to try and learn a few basic steps. His heart was racing against his ribcage as he held your gaze, hoping you couldn’t feel it beneath your delicate fingertips. The potential of potentially embarrassing himself in front of you paled to the weight lying within his mind. 

The music shifted, so did Jinbe, trying to direct you as gracefully as he could, trying to hold that vision you held of him and had told him of so long ago. “You’re my rock, Jinbe,” you uttered softly into the night, your gaze fixed solidly on the ocean, eyes missing that light that had initially captivated the fishman. “You…make things feel okay. Like I can breathe even though I’m drowning.” “Do you often feel that way, little one?” “Yeah…But…” you take a breath, steadying yourself. “It’s different with you. You feel safe. Safer than the others. Don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful, but…I don’t feel as…I don’t feel as connected to them as I do to you. You’re just different, in a good way.” Jinbe stared at you for a long while before you started speaking again. “You’re like the calm in my storm.” The night you told him that, he knew he felt the same. His own mind echoed for him to give until he could not offer anymore, demanding he scrounge up more and be the one to turn to, you included, but you never hesitated to offer what you could to him in return, and for ages now he only truly accepted your help, your aid, he always reached for you first, slowly taking the other hands extended to him by the other crew members. He relished in being a person you could rely on to bring you back to reality, and returning the favor, even in ways as small as gifting you his heart and sharing this dance with you made him feel warm. Yet it still did nothing for his nerves, even as he began to slip into smoother glides and sways to the music, leading you with his movements and practically making stars dance in your irises in sync with them. As the music began to fade, Jinbe found himself standing on the lawn of the Sunny, a contented you resting in his arms. You let out a pleased sigh as you moved your head to rest your cheek against the slightly exposed skin of his chest, resting just above the sun that marked his skin. “That was perfect, Jinbe,” you breathed, your voice carried away by the gentle wind and wrapping around his heart like a vice. Jinbe couldn’t back out, not after spending so much time living in his own head, replaying the many ways his question could be answered. He took a deep breath, garnering your attention once more as you stared up at him with a curious hum. “Thank you, my pearl. I also enjoyed our waltz,” he spoke softly, moving a hand to cup your cheek as he took a step back from you, the residual moonlight coupling with the dim glow of candle fires that still burned, bathing you in a glow Jinbe could only describe as bewitching. “However, I do feel the need to ask a favor of you.”

“What do you need, love? You can ask me anything.” Any more words you had died on your tongue as you witness Jinbe step back further, the man getting down on one knee to be eye level with you while plucking something from an inner pocket on his coat, the small box being a familiar sight you’ve only read about. Presenting his hand to you, box cradled in his massive palm, Jinbe takes another deep breath, his eyes staring deeply into the confines of your very being. “My pearl, would you do me the honor of allowing me to be by your side until the end of time?” Tears sprung to your eyes as you nodded, and Jinbe opened the box, revealing a simple ring with a pearl nestled beside two small rubies on a beautiful golden band. With a relieved, and overjoyed smile, he carefully slipped the ring on your finger and allowed you to pull him into a kiss, the mutual happiness rolling off the two of you in waves. Another dial was set, the music starting as Jinbe pulled you up into his grasp, your feet dangling over the tops of his own as he began to dance with you again, contended and delighted that he could forever be the calm in your storm and you could be the anchor in his sea.

[s4vyc4ndy]

Sakusa Kiyoomi || Clean serve, messy heart

Sakusa Kiyoomi liked order. He liked routines, neatness, and knowing exactly what to expect. His world was made up of carefully folded towels, perfectly timed serves, and a comfortable distance from anything—or anyone—that could disrupt his sense of control.

Then you joined Itachiyama as the new team manager.

And suddenly, Sakusa’s world was an absolute mess.

It wasn’t dramatic, like in the romance movies Komori teased him about. There were no slow-motion moments or violins playing in the background. It was simple—too simple, really. You walked into the gym for the first time, clipboard in hand, offering a polite smile to the team, and Sakusa felt his heart do something completely unfamiliar.

A skip. A stumble. A full-on dive into chaos.

Of course, he’d never admit it.

Instead, he became strategic. If he liked you—and he wasn’t ready to use that word just yet—he’d be subtle. Calm. Rational.

But Sakusa’s version of "subtle" was… questionable at best.

He started standing a little closer during water breaks. Not too close—he wasn’t reckless—but definitely within earshot. He’d clear his throat unnecessarily when you were nearby, just to see if you’d glance at him. (You always did.)

When Komori caught him lingering near the supply closet where you were organizing equipment, Sakusa muttered, “Just needed a towel,” even though he was clearly holding one already.

But his real downfall? The small, thoughtful gestures he couldn’t help but do.

You’d casually mention being cold in the gym, and the next day, an extra hoodie mysteriously appeared on the bench—one that just happened to be his, freshly washed and folded. You’d struggle to reach a clipboard on the top shelf, and Sakusa would suddenly materialize beside you, silent but helpful, retrieving it without a word.

And every time, he’d walk away quickly, face slightly pink, pretending none of it meant anything.

One day after practice, you found him alone, wiping down volleyballs with mechanical precision. The gym was quiet except for the squeak of sneakers against the polished floor.

“Hey, Sakusa,” you called softly, stepping closer.

He stiffened, keeping his focus on the volleyball in his hands. “What?”

You smiled, unfazed by his usual curt tone. “Thanks for the hoodie the other day. It was really thoughtful.”

His hand froze mid-wipe. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You’re always doing stuff like that, though.”

He finally glanced up, dark eyes meeting yours. His face was carefully neutral, but there was a flicker of something—panic?—beneath the surface.

“Well,” he muttered, looking back down, “someone has to be responsible around here.”

You laughed softly, stepping even closer now. “Is that what this is? Responsibility?”

He opened his mouth, probably to deflect again, but then he made the mistake of looking at you—really looking at you. The warm light of the gym reflected in your eyes, your smile soft and genuine, and suddenly all his carefully built walls felt paper-thin.

“…Maybe not just that,” he admitted quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

Your smile grew, your heart fluttering at the rare glimpse of honesty from him. “Good. Because I was hoping it wasn’t.”

For the first time since you’d met, Sakusa didn’t look away. Instead, he nodded slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips—subtle, quiet, but there.

Messy feelings, it turned out, weren’t so bad after all.

[ch6sos]

a/n: this is mainly for black gender neutral readers or those with coily/curly hair but anyone can read :)

Whenever Kento wants to learn something new, he devotes his entire time to it. No, seriously. People around him often ask how he manages to master so many skills, or they gape in awe when they see him in action, because it always looks like he’s a natural. But the truth is, Kento practices—endlessly.

Take cooking, for example. He wasn’t always good at it. His parents were the first to teach him about the importance of basic household skills—especially cooking. They told him, "If you want to survive in the real world, you need to know how to take care of yourself, and cooking is essential."

But his first attempts weren’t smooth at all. He didn’t master stegt flæsk on the first try, nor could he bake the perfect rye bread, or make udon from scratch. In fact, when he first attempted cooking, even the boxed mac and cheese stuck to the pan.

Frustrated but determined, Kento began watching his family closely. He'd observe his mother in the kitchen, occasionally passing her ingredients or awkwardly chopping vegetables. He read cookbooks, borrowed recipes from his grandmother—learning both Japanese and Danish dishes, and followed each step carefully—getting the right ingredients, measurements, and temperatures just right.

That’s how Kento approached every skill he became interested in—whether it was fencing, archery, learning to play the violin, or pottery. He would buy all the necessary equipment, immerse himself in content about it, and fixate on it until he was satisfied with his skill level—like a Sim locked into a single task.

So, when Kento started dating someone with coily hair, he applied the same method.

He noticed how much time they spent on their hair—the hours dedicated to braiding, curling, and washing. He wasn’t the type of partner to just sit back and watch, especially when they were feeling tired.

He went into research mode: watching videos, reading articles, and practicing. Whenever he had time off from work, he’d be on his couch, blue light glasses perched on his nose, eyes glued to YouTube tutorials explaining how to care for coily hair—the products to use, the best protective hairstyles, and the time required for proper maintenance.

He’d search on his Samsung, scrolling through article after article written by people with coily hair, trying to understand how he could help make their routine a bit easier.

One day, his partner caught him with a mannequin head in his lap, his legs crossed on the couch, glasses slipping down his nose, fingers moving as he tried to braid from the scalp down. His brows were furrowed in concentration, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Kento, what are you doing?” they chuckled, glancing at the mannequin on his lap.

He let out a small huff, not annoyed but a little sheepish. “I’m trying to learn how to braid, or at least take care of hair.”

They laughed softly, seeing his frustration as he undid yet another braid that wasn’t quite right. “Why don’t you practice on me?”

“I don’t want to ruin your hair,” he replied, frowning as he started over again, still a bit clumsy but improving.

“I’ll teach you,” they offered, amusement in their voice, touched by how much he wanted to get it right.

Kento’s eyes lit up in excitement, as if he’d forgotten that watching them take care of their own hair was the best lesson he could get. "That’d be great," he said with a lazy grin, pushing his glasses up.

For the next few weeks, they taught him everything—how they followed their daily hair routine, how they carefully braided and styled their hair, and how long it took to recreate certain looks. Kento watched intently, always hesitating before touching their hair, afraid he might mess something up. But with gentle encouragement, he grew more confident.

Eventually, he learned enough to help out. On days when they were tired, Kento would sit them down, placing pillows beneath them, and take over. He’d part their hair with a comb, splitting it into neat sections, his hands gentle as he worked, always mindful not to tug too hard. They’d both watch a silly reality show on TV while he braided or styled their hair.

He even learned how to wash it delicately, stepping into the shower with them to help massage their scalp and rinse out the conditioner. He bought the right products, ensuring they always had what they needed. Sometimes, he’d try new hairstyles on them—ones even they hadn’t thought of—just to keep things interesting.

For Kento, it wasn’t just about learning a new skill. He loved spending that quality time together, knowing that every effort he made to help them made a difference. And in those quiet, intimate moments, he felt truly happy.

[ephie-om]

CW: none

Song: Underground - Lindsey Stirling

Day 4: Satan

You've lived with your demons long enough to have their routine completely memorized. You know what days Lucifer has dinner with Diavolo, what time Beel will be back from Fangol practice, and how long it takes Asmo to get ready for grocery shopping. Which is why you decide to follow Satan when he leaves the house late one night. He's done this a few times before, but you can't find any pattern to it. He slips through the front door when a record plays from Lucifer’s room, before Asmodeus gets home, when no one in the house has any reason to pay particular attention to him. He always carries a oddly shaped long black case with him, an awkwardly large object to try and sneak away with.

This time though, curiosity overtakes you. They say it killed the cat, but damn if they said anything about the sheep, so you should be fine. You whisper a spell to cover up your scent and slip out your window after you see him pass by.

You keep your steps light, and he moves slowly enough that there's no need for haste. He walks in a straight line away from the house, and you realize he seems to be aiming for… the Demon Lord's castle?

Not the castle, you decide after a few more minutes. But definitely somewhere in the grounds. The foliage is getting a little thicker, and it's hard to tell where exactly you'll end up. Satan picks his way carefully through small branches, and you notice he seems to be following a faint path. How many times has he done this over the years?

He makes it to a tall black fence hidden in the trees, and you wonder for a moment how he'll make it through. Will he rip a hole through the bars, melt the metal with magic, or- oh. He could just turn to the side and inch his way through. You have very little confidence in your ability to do the same thing without a lot of effort and noise, so you hang back.

As you peek through the bars, you finally recognize where you are: the royal botanical gardens. The section he chose features tiered rings of pale blue flowers rising up to a fountain in the center, where Satan sits. He unlatches his case, and from it rises a beautiful violin. Your breath catches in your throat as he raises it to his chin, lifts the bow, and begins to play.

It's a slow song, almost mournful. He draws out every note until it feels like a string in your heart is pulled taut, then moves to the next. It makes you think of the smell of rain, permeating the very air you breathe. His eyes are closed and he moves with every pull of the bow.

You feel like you're witnessing something secret, something that no one else has seen. The sight enraptures you, the moonlight bathing him in an ethereal glow. He sits with perfect posture, one with the violin, and you can easily imagine him on a stage playing for thousands of people instead of a secluded garden in the night. A few strands of his hair have fallen into his eyes, and you'd like nothing more than to cup his cheek and brush them out of the way.

Slowly the melody rises, interspersed with short notes here and there. You think of the sun peeking through rain clouds, higher notes rousing the song to new heights. The energy rises, and Satan’s tail starts to move with him.

His fingers quicken, the bow bringing life to the melody ringing around the gardens. He stands suddenly, and his feet move with the beat as he steps quickly in time. The sun breaks through the clouds; his hands are flying now, as if the instrument is controlling him instead. His tail whips around with deadly speed, only barely missing the fountain wall. He finishes with a few high, sustained notes and flourishes his bow proudly out to one side.

The silence seems unnatural, only broken by his heavy breathing. Your heart still sings the same note as the last one his violin rang out, and you reach up to find your eyes wet with tears. You glance down at your fingers, shocked, and you look back up only to lock eyes with a pair of bright green ones.

Satan's gaze bores into you, locking you in place. You try unsuccessfully to swallow the lump in your throat. His tail thumps against the stone wall and you jump. “Are you going to come here or just stand there?” he huffs. You stare back at him, and once you're convinced he's not going to maul you, awkwardly clamber over the fence.

“What the hell would possess you to follow me out here?” he snaps.

“Um… I don't know.”

“What do you mean you don't know?”

You shrug. “Sometimes you sneak off like this and I get curious. Just wanted to know.” He narrows his eyes at you, probably judging how many curses you'll come back to find in your bed.

“It was beautiful, by the way. The song. I had no idea you could play.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I mean it. I cried during it and I didn't even notice. It was like I was in a trance.”

Even the dim moonlight can't hide the blush that rises to his cheeks at that. “Well, that's what four hundred years of practice will get you.”

You laugh at his bashfulness, then a thought occurs to you. “Wait, you aren't going to ask me how I followed you? Is this where you say you knew I was there the whole time?”

He chuckles lightly. “To be honest, no, I wasn't going to ask. I've been around you long enough to know that asking how you did something will confuse me more than if I don't ask at all.” You just grin at him.

“So… am I getting another song?”

He sighs. “If you're really determined to hear it.” You make yourself comfortable on the fountain wall and pretend you don't see him smile as he reaches for his bow again.

[dr3amfyr-e]

modern!jace thoughts ( wc. 600-ish )

i have a jace parasite living in my brain <3 i’m cooking up a part two ( i cooked it up )

jacaerys who studies literature and linguistics at university — on the pre-law track. he’s such a diligent student, a frequenter of libraries and study rooms. ( but he doesn’t really have to try that hard, it comes easy, it’s aggravating )

he lives in the nicest dorm on campus, probably private housing.

jacaerys who wears glasses :3 but only when he must, makes an effort to put contacts in every day. but some days are just glasses days. ( they’re the sliver squoval wire framed ones )

jacaerys who prioritizes hygiene, he’s so clean. (i’m a jon girl at heart, i can acknowledge that he is not squeaky clean. jace is squeaky clean) jace has a skincare routine and a haircare routine. he’s using olaplex and cerave and that super expensive moisturizer. he knows how to defuse and gel cast his curls, he’ll happily do yours too! i firmly believe he uses an electric toothbrush AND HE TAKES CARE OF HIS NAILS

jacaerys who attended a private school until university, and started playing competitive football ( ⚽️ ) at age 10. he plays in college too, but he’s not as serious about it.

lucerys attends the same private school and plays for the same team, so jace practices with him ( it usually ends with a physical altercation, think the sword fight scene ‘what. was. THAT?’ )

jacaerys who likes animals, and LOVES his dog. vermax lives at home while he is off at school, but when jace gets a place of his own the dog will come with. he walks him every morning and evening and takes him for runs most days over the summer. vermax sleeps in jace’s bed, and he takes up a good portion.

jacaerys who is SO oldest daughter coded. he’s driving his siblings around. taking joffrey to pediatrician appointments and picking him up from school. going to all of luke’s football games and rhaena’s violin concerts.

chronic over achiever, he has to be his mothers favorite daughter- what, who said that?

mama’s boy jacaerys who looks up to her more than anyone. he’s bragging her up to anyone who will listen: in his gender and women’s studies class like, “my mom is a ceo! 🙋” “my mom is married to a woman! 🙋”

he would defend his mother’s name with his life. he’s getting into fist fights at social events, ryan atwood style. ( no he’s not, but he really wants to )

jacaerys who can be mean. he doesn’t mean to be, he doesn’t want to be — he hates it. but the world he grew up in was exclusive, and cliquey, and competitive.

he’s good at controlling it, thinking before he speaks. because he’s not a mean person. he’s good, and kind, and gentle. but, it comes to the surface when he goes into defense mode.

he made luke cry once, and started journaling to channel his emotions.

english/history person jacaerys. he’s hopeless at helping his brothers with their math homework.

when his mother married his late grandfather’s former wife he started reading lesbian theory to cope. and he liked it! he borrows baela’s feminist theory books, they bookclub.

jacaerys who, unfortunately, does participate in performative reading. omg nooo don’t come talk to me while i’m reading didion and wearing pearls and mewing 🧏

jacaerys who has a really expensive digital camera and also a really expensive film camera. he likes to post his pictures on his instagram ( no one cares )

all of his social media accounts are private because he doesn’t want to be the internet’s next eligible bachelor.

jacaerys who cries when he’s frustrated.

jacaerys who tolerates his step-brothers, but not very well or with much enjoyment. he has way more in common with alicent than he’d like to admit ( quintessential horrifying step-child experience of being mistaken for your step-parents biological child ) he likes helaena, though! they’re kind of bestie

he separates puzzle pieces by colour for her and looks at all of her art and knows all of her favorite bugs. ( he’s always wanted a sister )

jacaerys who is a fantastic boyfriend ( i’ll get into this later ) (( i got into this ))

[kakao-lovey]

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌼🧺˚˖𓍢ִ🌿𝑴𝒚 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆

For quite a while now, I have been taking every Sunday completely off to reset and rest. I give my all and work my hardest during the week, and on this day I am not allowed to work at all. However, I find having a routine in place very important, as to not spend the day scrolling YouTube shorts and eating every food item in the house, which is usually what happens to me when I don't plan anything.

This post is sort of an experiment, because all of my previous ones were general and non-personal to me, and I don't know if you lovies actually care about what I do (Not meant in a mean way, but I'm not a super popular online personality, just a blogger).

Wake up at around seven: I normally wake up at this time, but I do set an alarm. This might just be a personal thing, but I feel getting up late when the sun is already out makes the day feel lazy.

Make a drink and chill outside: I'm very lucky to have a huge garden, even though it's in a desert climate and vegetation is sparse. Nature is nature, and I would even say the sunrise is more beautiful than in Europe. My go-to drink for relaxation is, surprise, matcha. Mine comes in sachets and is instant, and probably not very good for my gut health, but it's a once-a-week thing.

Family time: I love my family. It's just me, my sister and my mother, but we are besties. We chat, eat breakfast together, and sit on the couch and read our books.

Hair mask: this has been one of my weekly rituals forever. Depending on how my hair is doing, I'll do rosemary essential oil in almond oil for my scalp, or olive oil with a teaspoon of honey on my ends. Right now, I've got the honey mask in.

Walk/Pilates: I have tried every type of exercise under the sun, and some of the only ones I actually like are Pilates / bodyweight exercises with stretches, and going on walks. Recently, a friend of my mother's gifted us her old treadmill, and I really enjoy putting on a podcast and walking with incline for about half an hour.

Everything shower: I wash my hair, exfoliate, shave if necessary. i change between cold and lukewarm water based on how I feel (Tired = cold, anxious/upset = warm) and the weather. I don't shower with hot water any more because I feel it dehydrates my skin and damages my hair, but that might be different for everyone.

Skincare: I've got acne, rosacea, sensitive combination skin and I have tried absolutely everything. What I do is use a non-scented sls-free body lotion, a salicylic acid serum and niacinamide moisturiser for my face, and acne-friendly SPF 50. My skin still isn't perfect (Sobs) but sometimes you can only do so much and learn to accept what you cannot viably change.

Journaling / Blogging: I love to write. My birth name means 'Little poet' in Irish, and somehow it's stuck with me my whole life. It is free therapy, and builds a skill that you need practically anywhere.

Cleaning / Organizing / Tidying: Every Sunday, I change my pillowcases, put fresh bedding on, dust all surfaces and tidy one drawer. Another thing about me that you will come to see often is that I am a neat freak: no area can go unorganized. It's very therapeutic, too.

Doing my nails: I am a violin and piano player, which means my fingernails need to be very short and stay short and tidy, which makes for a lot of work. Sometimes I like to paint them dark red or lavender since I'm looking at my hands most of the day.

Meditation: I put on theta waves, brown noise or a subliminal, and focus on something I'm manifesting, repeating affirmations and visualising. Sometimes I fall asleep, but that's a good thing! If you fall asleep while affirming, your brain continues to repeat those positive words subconsciously while you sleep.

Reading: I read mostly non-fiction. Currently, I'm reading A Therapeutic Journey by Alain de Botton, and a few financial self-help books here and there (As it's been an intention of mine to educate myself on money for very long already).

Now, I will go and continue with my Sunday. I really hope you've gotten at least something useful out of this. I appreciate and welcome feedback, so feel free to tell me 'Kakao, I hated this. Please stop.' Love,

꩜ Kakao

[chaiandtchaikovsky]

02.04.2025

i had a midterm today and i'm glad to say that i passed! i have also finally gotten into a routine of practicing piano everyday, i am on a streak for 10 days with my daily average being 2 hours :>> i'm hoping to gradually get that up to 4-6 hours, because with all the pieces i'm getting, its requiring more time :']

over the weekend i went to a new poké/boba restaurant that opened near me, and have been amateurly sculpting a clay piano with a little violin and i think its come out fairly nice, though a bit wonky :'] it stands up on its own and at this time i've already painted it and everything!

this week's to do:

read a chapter or two and do at least 3 assignments for my environmental science class; an extra 4 assignments if i have the time to get ahead

read four chapters and do the corresponding four quizzes, plus exam, discussion board, and essay for my government class; its the final essay and after this week we only have one chapter left, so i can't wait to have more free time :'}

make time throughout the week to substantially practice the four pieces i currently have for chamber music, and continue practicing my repertoire pieces as i prepare to record my audition tape

[ryuusei-boi]

some neojapan headcanons bc I love this team so much

Narukami wears headphones bc he's got sensitive hearing and gets overwhelmed in noisy situations

Demete suffers from insomnia. unable to get a full 8 hours at night, he instead takes little naps throughout the day. he's considered taking sleeping pills, but ever since Zeus he's reluctant to take medication for any reason

I like to think that, aside from soccer, Kidokawa Seishuu also puts focus on music and encourages its students to play instruments. Tsutomu plays violin, his older brother Tomo plays piano and the eldest Masaru plays the clarinet (also Gouenji plays the cello)

Makiya is non-binary, and Segata and Arata are transgender. they use they/them, he/they and he/him pronouns respectively

Segata is taking testosterone. Arata is on puberty blockers

Makiya gets homesick since Senbayama is supposedly pretty far away. they're used to getting up before sunrise to feed the chickens back at home. in neojapan, they often wake up early to watch the sun rise by themselves and cry for a bit

neojapan's managers are named Nami and Touya, and I don't have designs for them yet but I might draw them

Some of the Aliea kids were adopted by different families after the end of season 2. Izuno was adopted by two mothers, whose other son is around his age. Ishidaira was adopted by a mother and father with no kids. Segata was adopted by a mother and father, and has an older sister now. Saginuma and Atsuishi decided to stay at the orphanage under Hitomiko's care.

Genda has glasses but often forgets to wear them. he thinks he looks lame with them on but everyone thinks he looks very handsome

Jimon has three sisters, so he's not as flustered about "girl stuff" as the rest of the team. he also doesn't poke fun at Arata or Hera for wearing makeup

Izuno, Tsutomu and Kirigakure are pretty good at cooking, and enjoy helping their managers cook if they've got enough energy left after training

Hera's guilty pleasure is watching ballet dancing. he's completely enamoured with it but will die before he admits it to anyone. once of his most treasured possessions is a DVD recording of Swan Lake

Ishidaira, Gouin, Yuukoku and Atsuishi suffer from chronic pain

Yuukoku's wiki page says that he has psychic powers and can talk to ghosts, so I like to think that he also gets chronic migraines. this gets in the way of his training sometimes, but the coach had blackout curtains installed in his room so he can lay down in the dark til his migraine passes

Atsuishi also has a weak immune system and spent a lot of time in hospital as a kid. he's doing a lot better since then but still prone to getting sick

Gouin has a lot of scars on his chest and back from a house fire that happened when he was younger. he's one of the players who always gets dressed in a shower stall, so no one knows about them

Ishidaira has fibromyalgia. he started playing soccer and practicing martial arts since exercising is a great way to decrease his pain, and found that he's pretty good at them

Sengoku Igajima is located in a forest at the foot of a mountain, the students spend a lot of time outdoors and learn to forage and grow their own food, how to survive in the wild and a fair bit of medical knowledge. Kirigakure is CPR certified, and knows how to bandage and suture a wound

Genda's scar from Shin Teikoku is real and he's been covering it up with makeup. Jimon noticed that it's not a perfect match to his skin tone, so he dragged him to a makeup store along with his oldest sister so she could help him find the right shade of concealer

Narukami can sing really well, but he's too embarrassed to do it in front of anyone. he likes to stay behind in the changing rooms til everyone else is gone so he can sing in the shower

Izuno runs VERY hot. some of the players call dibs on sitting next to him on the couch bc he's like a human space heater

Saginuma is a sleepwalker and routinely scares the shit out of anyone up at night, bc he's tall and pale and lets his hair down when he goes to bed, making him look not dissimilar to the girl from the ring

[loveforquanrui]

your most recent reactions post is so well written, i love it sm you’re such a good author ❤️

i was wondering if i could request a zb1 reaction to moving in with you and what they would do/how’d they act? i understand if not

have an amazing day 😇

hiii anon!! Thank you so much for the compliments and thank you so so much for requesting! :') It really made my day. Sorry I took so long but here it is, I hope you enjoyed it &lt;3

to be with you than alone

제로베이스원 - jebewon (ot8) moving in with you and how they are, gn reader. i did not include yujin because I did not feel comfy writing about him in this topic. There are no disclaimers I believe but let me know if i missed any!

-jiwoong-

caretaker but gives you alone time when needed

as soon as he got your approval to move in with you he was so happy, but tried not to show it

he had been wanting to move in with you for a while now

once he moved in he was already on boyfriend duty 24/7

knows that you have trouble sleeping so he is ready to give you the comfort that you need <3

does chores for you but probably won't do his (he's so in love pls)

ALWAYS wake up first to prepare breakfast for the two of you

in the case that he is busy with schedules he would leave a simple note

constantly tries to take care of you

BUT he does not want to overwhelm you so he lets you be alone sometimes

don't be fooled though, he is sometimes peaking out of the corner of his eye to make sure you are okay

-hao-

always music playing in the background and helpful

when hao moved in with you, you swear you've never heard this much music during your lifetime

there is not one second where you don't hear him singing, practicing his violin, or playing his new songs

you don't mind it ofc!

Hao has such a lovely voice so you are always pleased to hear it

You and Hao decided to split the chores in half so it can be fair to both of y'all

Every night before bed Hao sets up his night playlist and you both fall asleep in each others arms listening to his favorite songs

The playlist is made full of calm songs that remind him of you but he doesn't tell you that, he's too shy to admit

When mornings come you usually do your morning routine in the bathroom but..

by the time you get out to your surprise

the bed is made and Hao is no where to be seen

he was shy AGAIN but he wanted to help

-hanbin-

literal royalty treatment

ever since hanbin moved in, so many worries and stress factors have been lifted off you

chores? what even are chores?

you're not lazy in fact you are used to doing your chores but ever since hanbin moved in, he doesn't let you do them

when night comes, both of you head to the already prepared bed

he'll make sure you are sound asleep first before sleeping himself

like jiwoong he also wakes up first

he wants to prepare anything you could possibly need before you wake up

slippers incase the floor is cold? check! water on the nightstand? check! glasses if you need them? check!

before he moved in your fridge was practically empty but now it's always filled since he wants to make your favorite foods every day

he just cares so much about you and you are his literal royalty so he will be treating you as one

-matthew-

a fun sleepover everyday

when matthew was moving in you remembered the HUGE setup he brought with him

for matthew a pc and a monitor were not enough there was more to his set up

you weren't much into gaming so you just let it slip across your mind as one of his hobbies

while you would clean the house, he would always say

"y/n!! y/n!! come watch this match"

and that's how he got you into playing video games with him

soon enough he was buying you your own set up

your apartment lowkey became a gaming lounge for you and matthew

ofc there was also other hobbies that came with matthew moving in

Strength training was one of them

Boy, does Matt love working out

Matthew slowly began to introduce you to multiple hobbies everyday

There was not a single day that did not feel like a fun sleepover with friends

-taerae-

looking out for you while maintaining pure happiness

taerae is so responsible

he is in charge of buying what is needed or missing in the apartment (he gave himself that role)

he makes sure you are saving your money since he doesn't want you to have any worries

you and him cook together or take turns making meals for each other

he made a secret cabinet full of your favorite things, which he takes out whenever you have a bad day

when you are ready to go to sleep taerae is getting ready to perform for you

he will sing you to sleep

he won't stop singing until are asleep

he knows you love hearing his beautiful voice, since he has noticed that you always fall asleep with a smile on your face

He wants to see you smile and he will do anything to see that beautiful cute smile of yours

-ricky-

change in both of ya'll life

you and ricky living together was like that one episode from F4 Thailand

both of you had to adapt to each other different habits

ricky started to learn how to do things himself but even so you wanted to treat him like a prince so you offered to do stuff for him

For example, cooking? done by you. laundry? also done by you.

to compensate for all the hard work you do for him and yourself

Ricky replaces your own furniture with newer more expensive ones with TWICE the comfort

you both always end up falling asleep at 4am or even later sometimes

why? because ricky is constantly tugging on your arm saying

"y/n let's watch this kdrama"

you had to admit he had some good reccommendations

while adapting to something new was difficult for both of you

you didn't let that come in the way of you having fun with each other

whether that was by watching kdramas or playing dress up in each others closet

you both always remained happy

-gyuvin-

chaos yet surprising matureness

oh gyuvin..

once he moved in you got your first ever noise complaint

it wasn't just because of gyuvin though.. well..

techincally gyuvin made you laugh really hard then there was knocks

there was simply never a moment of silence with the happy bambi now joining your household

if you were gone for longer than five minutes you would hear

"Y/NNN"

"WHERE ARE YOU IM BORED LETS PLAY A GAME"

and there you would go

but to your surprise gyuvin was actually very mature despite what many may believe

when those noise complains came in he apologized and really toned it down for everyone

he helps with any bills you may have to pay and even often pays them for you

he makes sure you are always okay with his presence since he knows people can get drained from his extroverted self

despite his playful nature he is very mature and caring

-gunwook-

respectful and caring

before moving in Gunwook had a strange request

"Let me meet your parents"

he had already met them but he wanted to make sure they were okay with him moving in with you

once he got the approval, similar to Hanbin it was instant royalty treatment

began to keep an extra of your comfort items incase it was needed

Gunwook is very observant therefore he always keeps an eye out for items you may be using

when he sees they are about to be finished

he buys some new ones and tries secretly to hide them

you always act surprise which brings him to cutely jump out behind you to say "See I'm psychic, I already knew what you needed"

Did I mention that your apartment has become a "gunwook cuddle station"

you both are cuddling ALL THE TIME

gunwook cares so much about your comfort that you were always his first priority

Hii guys I hope you all enjoyed. Especially because it’s not my best work but I tried my best <3 also CONGRATS TO ZB1 and HAO ON THEIR AWARDS I LOVE MY JEBIS 🥲🥲

[adhdnursegoat]

BTAS

cw: Riddler being dashing😊, reader is gn but wears a dress

word count: 1.4k

The grand ballroom is alive with the glittering lights of chandeliers and the soft hum of violins. Elegantly dressed, the identities of each guest are secret, each one hidden behind a facade that adds a layer of mystique to the evening. You adjust your own mask—a delicate, feather-adorned piece that matches your flowing lavender gown—as you navigate the room. The masquerade is a charity event your father insisted you attend, a gesture of goodwill and politics wrapped up in finery and champagne.

You weave through the crowd, offering polite smiles and nods to other guests. It is not the first time you’ve found yourself at one of these events, surrounded by the elite of Gotham City. But tonight feels different. There is a tension in the air, a charge that has you glancing around with a sense of anticipation, as if something—or someone—is watching you.

And then you see him.

At the far end of the room, partially obscured by the throng of guests, stands a man in a sleek black suit. His mask is striking—a bright violet piece of fabric with an intricate, swirling design that matches a purple tie tucked beneath his sharply tailored jacket and green vest. It is hard to miss the way he carries himself, oozing confidence and charm as he surveys the room. Your breath catches as his gaze meets yours across the space, and you find yourself frozen in place.

He steps forward, moving through the crowd with an ease that suggests he belongs here, that this masquerade is his stage. As he approaches, you feel your heart pick up speed, each beat syncing with the rhythm of the music filling the room.

“May I have this dance?” His voice is smooth and low, like velvet in your ears. He extends his gloved hand, palm up, waiting. You hesitate, your eyes searching his masked face for a sign of his intentions. But there is something in his posture, in the way he holds himself, that is both commanding and alluring.

Against your better judgment, you place your hand in his, allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor.

As the two of you glide into a waltz, his arm slides around your waist, pulling you closer. His movements are precise, his steps confident, as if he’s danced this routine a hundred times. He guides you effortlessly, each turn and dip executed with a finesse that leaves you breathless. The room around you fades, the music and the spinning of the other dancers becoming nothing but a blur. All that remains is this man’s attention, the steady warmth of his hand against your back, and the mystery of his intentions.

“You dance well,” you manage to say, trying to temper the nerves in your voice.

He chuckles softly, the sound rich with amusement. “I do many things well,” he replies, lips curving into a dashing smile. The mystery dancer leads you into a smooth natural spin turn, the both of you gliding across the room as if you both have practiced this a million times.

“I must say, I’m finding myself particularly interested in this dance.” His eyes, hidden but no less sharp, are locked onto yours. “And in you.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the way he says it, as if you’re the sole focus of his grand scheme tonight. Your instincts tell you that there’s more to this than a simple dance, that he has motives far beyond a casual flirtation. But despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you can’t help but be drawn to him, to the intrigue that surrounds him like a shadow.

“Who are you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. He twirls you gracefully, your skirts flaring out as you spin, before catching you in his arms once more.

“Now, where’s the fun in revealing all my secrets so soon?” he teases, his grip tightening on your waist for a fraction of a second. “Let’s just say I’m here to make this evening unforgettable.”

His words are laced with a promise, one that sends a thrill through you. He continues to lead you in the dance, the two of you moving seamlessly as the music swells around you. But you can’t shake the feeling that this moment is fleeting, that whatever spell he’s cast over the ballroom will soon break.

As the song reaches its crescendo, his arm tightens around your waist, and he dips you low, your body instinctively following the fluid motion. His face hovers dangerously close, the warmth of his breath grazing your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes widen, a soft gasp escaping as your back arches gracefully over his arm. Every muscle in your body is taut with anticipation, your fingers clutching his shoulder for support, your hand entwined with his. There's no doubt—he’s completely swept you off your feet, and the smug look on his face tells you he knows it.

His hold is firm but gentle, a balance of control and finesse, making it clear he’s in command of this moment. The scent of him, a dark and intoxicating teakwood, fills your senses as the world around you blurs into the background, leaving only the two of you, locked in this intimate, magnetic dance.

Your heart pounds in your chest, but not from the exertion of movement. It’s the way he holds you—like a secret, like a promise, in a way that only belongs to you two—that sends your pulse racing. He leans in ever so slightly, his lips just a whisper away from yours, a smirk curling at the edge of his mouth.

“My dear, I must take my leave, I’m afraid,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet caress against your ear, dripping with playful charm. “But do remember this dance, won’t you?”

The mystery dancer’s words wrap around you, leaving you breathless, your mind spinning as you try to process his sudden departure. Before you can respond, before you can plead for just one more moment in his arms, he lifts you back up with effortless grace. You find your footing, but the world feels different now, as if it's tilted on an axis that revolves solely around him.

His fingers linger on yours, pulling your hand to his lips in the softest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. And then, with a final, almost wicked smile that promises so much more, he slips away, vanishing into the crowd. You stand there, breathless, your heart still dancing long after he's gone.

And just like that, you’re left in the haze of what felt like a dream, the memory of his touch searing itself into your skin.

You blink, disoriented, as the music changes and the other guests continue their revelry. For a moment, you simply stand there, your heart still racing, your hand and waist tingling where his touch had been. It is only then that you notice something missing.

Your bracelet.

You glance down at your wrist, realizing with shock and awe that the delicate, jeweled bracelet you had worn is gone. The realization hits you like a bolt of lightning—he had stolen it. And you hadn’t even noticed.

Panic flares in your chest, but it's quickly overshadowed by something else: exhilaration. You look around the ballroom, searching for any sign of the man in the purple mask, but he’s vanished as if he were nothing more than a dream.

Somewhere, amidst the laughter and clinking glasses, you hear a faint sound—a distant echo of his voice in your mind, telling you to remember this dance. And you know you will. Not just because of the stolen bracelet, but because he had stolen something far more valuable: a piece of your heart.

You exhale, a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The night suddenly feels alive with possibilities, as if his touch had left a mark on your very soul.

With a quiet resolve, you straighten your mask and step away from the dance floor. This isn't over. Not by a long shot. If he thinks he can simply waltz into your life, steal what he wants, and vanish without a trace, then he clearly underestimates you. A smile tugs at your lips as you begin to mingle back into the crowd, keeping your eyes peeled.

You’ll find him again. And when you do, it's game on.

[kishibe-kisser]

hi how you doing ??? Mmmmm can i request a fic for sukuna x Ballerina reader???🥺🥺🥺🥺 i'm a Ballerina and i want really to know how would he react about that i just can't imagine it right😭😭😭

This could be very fun

Personal Jewellery Box (Sukuna)

Tags: Sukuna x ballerina reader, mentions of injury, pet names, implications of murder

There was no beauty in humanity, not to him. Sukuna had lived a long time and there was very little in the world that made him feel sympathy towards humans, they didn't care for each other. He felt no need in caring for them either.

Classical music wasn't his cup of tea either, high pitched screeching of violins doing nothing more than give him a headache. It was one of the reasons he stumbled across you in the first place, he wanted to make the music stop and if that meant putting an end to you too, it didn't matter to him. Sukuna wasn't above it in any way.

Spinning, you didn't see the man staring at you through the window of the studio. You could only feel the pain in your feet as you danced through your routine once again. The toe pads in your pointe shoes were worn through and as much as you needed new ones, the effort of breaking them in not being something you were looking forward to.

So you pushed past the pain, pirouetting through the studio before coming to a grinding halt. Your face being mere centimeters from a smirking man. Sukuna no longer wanted to put an end to the music, he wanted to see you dance just a little longer. He was mesmerized, your movements filled with grace and strength. It was new to him, someone with so much physical discipline... it was interesting. If something amused him, he was prone to keep it and it took him no 2 seconds to decide he was keeping you.

"Turn like that again." He grumbled, his hands on your waist as he spun you gently. He liked doing this, feeling your muscles contract under his hands. Watching you dance and feeling you dance were his favorite things. Your cheeks were warm, heating up with every touch of his rough hands. It was something you could never quite get used to. No one admired your dancing as much as him and that from the king of curses, it made you a better dancer.

"Beautiful." He remarked, stopping you to face mirror of the practice room. His face was next to yours as he held you in your position. His hands were large on your body, making it hard to maintain your position. A smile stretched over his face, feeling you start to shake a little. "My pretty little performer." He said softly, releasing his grip on you. It was his nonverbal way of saying you could relax.

"You, sweetheart are like my own personal jewellery box. Doing a little twirl any time I ask." He added on, urging you to sit next to him. Sukuna raised your leg over his lap and started to undo the ribbons of your pointe shoes. "I'm nervous for the show." You admitted to him, hissing as his hand massaged your bruised feet. It was amusing to you, other people in your life wouldn't take the time to do this however he didn't bat an eyelash.

"You can't be nervous. When you're on stage just imagine my hands are the one holding you in place up there." He told you, applying more pressure on your strained muscles. Using your leg, he harshly pulled you into his lap and his chest pressed into your back. He held your chin and forced you to look into the mirror again.

"Besides, anyone who makes my little dancer feel bad about her dancing will have hell to pay with me."

A/N: This is very short because I did not know what to write but I still really liked this? It's very different.

[cinnamostar]

love's final act

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : love’s final, yet cruelest, act was grief. grief is, and will always be, the truest testament of love. 

wc : 4.1k

cw : sadness, angst, break up, mentions of anxiety and symptoms, negative self talk. plz let me know if i missed anything.

a/n : this is the first fic i have written in literal years! i would love to hear any feedback and thoughts you have about this. pls let me know if i need to add additional content warnings, as well as if as if any gendered language is used :) im excited to be writing again and i hope you enjoy! 

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

The morning light peeped through your curtains, inviting itself into your dreary room much to your dismay, taunting you once more that another painfully sleepless night had passed by. Normally, you’d welcome the sun’s warmth as part of your routine, opening the curtains to soak in the rays as you prepared for the new day, but the past seven days had been far from normal.

Today, the crushing weight of grief tied you down your bed once more as hot tears burned down your cheeks for what felt like the millionth time this week. Grief and guilt had kept you imprisoned to the confines of your room, allowing you to escape from the world outside where life continued to move forward, while you desperately clung onto memories of the past, unwilling to accept the new reality you knew was long coming.

You didn’t want to leave your room, you didn’t want to confront the world again. Maybe if you stayed in here a little longer, time would turn back and this new universe would fade away into the ether as nothing more than a bad dream. Maybe you’d finally wake up and find yourself in the arms of your lover. Maybe he would march right through your bedroom door, begging for you both to keep trying, urging you to believe your love would triumph any obstacle life had in store.

That would be nice, wouldn’t it?

The truth is, after two short and sweet years together, your love story was coming to a screeching halt. The reality of your deteriorating romance had finally caught up to you both and you could no longer deny the impossibility of this relationship. 

Hyunjin was everything you had ever wanted and more. He was the love of your life, your soulmate, the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You both loved each other dearly, and if it wasn’t for the challenges life had presented, you’d be inseparable. If it were up to you, you’d spend every waking moment in his presence, listening to the hum of his heart that you became so in tuned with. It was a melody only you and him could hear and understand, one that was so extravagant and beautiful that it would bring goosebumps to anyone who witnessed it.

A song so powerful, passionate, forceful, but yet so gentle and delicate, almost as if the beating of your own hearts could shatter it if one ever lost its rhythm. There was a musical score to follow that only you and Hyunjin knew how to perform, yet the symphony of your love started to fade away in the background as the loud chatter of life roared over it.

One by one, the violin’s strings started to snap, the piano fell out of tune, the percussionists arms grew heavy, the flautis’s breath could no longer keep up, and all was left was you and Hyunjin trying to conduct an orchestra to play a line of music that didn’t exist. This was how it was supposed to end. They didn’t practice any of this, there was no more music, this was it. Your thoughts, overwhelming sorrow, and the cacophony of life.

This was your final performance together.

It felt as if life had been sucked out of you, the ruckus of the world overstimulating your ears with a piercing screech in the background. You desperately strained yourself to find the tune you missed, hoping maybe you could pick up where you both left off, but there was nothing. It felt as if a hand was clenching around your heart, constricting you as you gasped for air, except you weren’t looking for air. Every detail of him had become so ingrained into your being that you no longer knew how to function without the heavenly tune of his, you had no idea how you ever dealt with the unpleasant song the world around you played. He was your everything, your oxygen, and you breathed him each time as if it was your last breath, but this time it actually was.

Sure, you had lived your entire life before him just fine, but the last few days without him had left you in a dizzying haze as your lungs burned from all your cries, begging for you to run back into his arms after being so deprived of him. The pit in your stomach grew heavier, sinking you further into your bed as you free falled into your own despair. 

It was the inevitable end of the love story between two people who desperately wanted to claw onto one another, but neither was willing to change themselves for the other and that was okay. You each had different goals, dreams, and aspirations that never seemed to come together, lifestyles that never aligned. It was as if divine intervention stepped in at every waking moment of your relationship to remind you both that your love was just a brief chapter of your lives, not the happily ever after you so desperately tried to force.

All that was left to face was the stark and brutal reminder that no amount of love, effort, or communication would have ever made those dreams a reality. The nights you and Hyunjin spent laying in each other’s arms as he gently played with loose strands of your hair, where you each giggled about where you would move once you both reached old age, what kind of home you both would share, and whether you both should adopt a cat, a dog, or both, was all now just a gut-wrenching memory that mocked you. 

It was mutual. It was for the best. Neither of you wanted this, but the truth was that no one was willing to compromise and completely abandon the diverging paths you both were on. You were both too stubborn to drop everything you had worked so hard on, both so close to achieving, just for the other. It wasn’t a lack of love, rather it was the suffocating love that caused you both to drag on your relationship for so long, but you both knew to your core that you would have resented the other if any compromise was made. Neither of you wanted that too. That was that, a tearful goodbye accompanied with gentle, hushed apologies with one last, excruciating bitter-sweet kiss.

A gentle knock stirred you awake from your stupor, temporarily freeing yourself from your painstaking recollections of your relationship. Blonde locks and dark eyes peered from the door, a soft voice calling your name, unsure if you were awake, “Y/N…?”

Your hands scrambled to wipe your tears away as you sat up, but your sniffles and broken voice betrayed you, “H-hi Lixie, sorry. I’m up now.”

Felix sighed in relief, worried he may have woken you from your few moments of peace. He let himself in, gently closing the door behind him as he made his way to your window, opening the curtains to let the sun in, complimenting the warmth his presence brought into your cold world. He basked in the morning sun for a moment, before turning to you with a sweet smile that melted away any sadness you had in you.

“It’s Saturday, Y/N.”

Oh. It’s already Saturday. Right. 

The realization must’ve been evident on your face, as Felix hastily found himself sitting on the edge of your bed with your hands clasped between his. “It’s okay, there’s no rush. You can give yourself more ti-,”

“No. It’s okay. I’ll get up now.”

Felix’s eyebrows raised, concerned etched onto his features, “You don’t have to force yourself, Y/N. There’s nothing wrong with needing more time.”

You shook your head adamantly, a tightlipped smile on your face as you looked Felix in the eyes, “I know, Felix, but…” You let out a shaky sigh, forcing a happier and more convincing smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, “I told myself I can’t let myself rot in bed for more than a week. I gave myself a week to cry it out, that should be more than enough, right?”

The boy returned the smile, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze, “Okay. If that is what you want, then okay.” He knew you were lying to yourself right now, he knew you were trying to convince yourself that you were okay and ready to go back to normalcy, but he also knew there was no use in trying to stop you. “Do you know what you want to do today? We can go grab coffee together if you’d like.”

“I think… I think I am okay on my own for today. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Are you sure?”  

“Yes, I’ll be okay. I promise I’ll text you if I need anything.”

Felix nodded, setting your hand back down on the mattress as he got up to exit the room, “Okay, but if you break your promise, I’m kicking your ass. Being heartbroken isn’t an excuse to break a promise with your best friend!” A lighthearted giggle escaped him as he shut the door behind him. 

A small smile graced your features, an airy laugh escaping you as you watched your best friend close the door. Somehow, you could always count on him to brighten your day, no matter how caught up in your grief you are.

But that was enough mourning, that was enough grieving, that was more than enough. It was time to go back to your old routine, as the world wasn’t going to wait for you to mend your broken heart. Life moved forward and you were hellbent on not being left behind.

Except you couldn’t quite go on with your old routine.

You couldn’t text Hyunjin good morning, you couldn’t call him letting him know you were going to the bakery to see if he wanted something, you couldn’t take a picture of a pretty flower you saw on your walk and share it with him. 

You couldn’t surprise him at work with lunch. You couldn’t send him a new song you found that reminded you of him. You couldn’t use the cheeky pick up line you saw online a few days ago. You couldn’t send him a picture of two puppies playing with each other saying it was both of you. You couldn’t stop by at the end of the night for a brief kiss. You couldn’t look forward to his cuddles. 

You couldn’t call him just because you wanted to hear his voice.

For a moment, as you made your way out the front door, you felt your breath hitch and all too familiar lump formed in your throat, tears threatening to spill out your eyes as your fingers mindlessly, out of habit, found themselves hovering over Hyunjin’s contact name, a few millimeters away from hitting call. 

‘Baby 𐐪♡𐑂’

You closed your eyes for a brief moment in a feeble attempt to collect yourself. You found yourself taking a deep breath, not realizing how long you had held your breath. With much hesitation, your shaky fingers tapped the ‘edit contact’ button and deleted the nickname you had lovingly given him. You paused once again, another deep breath before replacing the previous text with ‘Hwang Hyunjin,’ erasing any evidence of the love you two once shared. 

The pit in your stomach grew once again, threatening to drag you back into bed as tears silently slid down your cheeks, but you shook the thought out of your mind, locking your phone and putting it in your pocket.

It’s okay. This is part of the healing process, right? It was better to confront this sooner rather than later. That’s what you told yourself at least. That’s what you wanted to believe. 

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

And just like that, another few weeks had whizzed past you before you even realized. You spent the whole time trying to return to your daily routine, along with the help of Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin, who each made it their personal mission to keep you company during every moment of the day. They somehow coordinated their schedules in a way to make sure at least one of them was available to be with you, but they still respected your boundaries whenever you asked them for some time alone.

You were eternally grateful for them, as their presence made the month a lot more bearable to manage, even though you found yourself in plenty of embarrassing moments with each of them.

Each time anything reminded you of Hyunjin, you’d find your eyes immediately welling up with tears, but the boys did a good job of comforting your broken heart and dealing with your inconsolable sobs. 

Even if you were in public. Even if you were in the middle of a McDonalds.

Unfortunately, a pack of sauce from McDonalds made you cry because it was Hyunjin’s favorite and you always made sure to grab him extra. If you weren’t so upset, the look of shock on Seungmin’s face would’ve made you laugh, but the dark haired boy quickly snatched the sauce away from your hands, jokingly scolding it for making you so sad as he returned it to the worker to exchange it for a different one. If he had known something so simple would’ve had such an effect on you, he wouldn’t have asked for it, but he chalks up to love making people stupid or whatever.

With time, the painful memories and embarrassing moments lessened on each of your outings. Whenever a memory did threaten your peace, instead of fighting it with tears in your eyes, you decided to embrace it with grace and try to smile at each one that greeted your mind. Just because it was painful now didn’t mean it was bad, they were still sweet moments that once made you happy, and for that, you should be thankful. 

You were far from being healed, but you were slowly adjusting to this new reality and feeling just a bit better each day at your own pace. It still hurt a lot and you missed him terribly, but you were okay and it got easier to manage your pain. You were slowly remembering how to live with the inundating sounds of life, slowly learning how to dance to this familiar song and appreciating the beauty within it once more.

Before you knew it, you were thinking of him, the tune of your romance was nothing more than a distant memory. Your body no longer craved his presence, no longer needing his hand to guide you through the musical that life is. You missed him, but not as much as you did the first week. Your heart still sank a little when you saw a couple walking hand in hand on the sidewalk, but instead of bringing you to tears, it made you smile to know you once experienced love like that, and you will again one day, just not with him. 

Today, you decided you were going to venture out on your own, something you felt more comfortable doing as time passed. The anxiety you once carried was vanishing as you grew more confident in yourself and your ability to hold it together, no longer worried that something so trivial would trigger an emotional outburst. The intimidating idea of solitude became something you welcomed as you slowly fell in love with the song of your heart and the background chatter life offered.

You stepped out the double doors of your local coffee shop, a warm vanilla latte in hand as the cool autumn breeze kissed your face. You didn’t really have a plan for today, opting to aimlessly wander around the busy streets of your city, enjoying the comfortable zephyr that brushed through your hair. The weather was great today, it would be a shame to let it go to waste and not enjoy it before the harsh winter season set in. With that in mind, you settled on heading to the park, hoping you’d find a bench to make your temporary home as you read the latest novel you bought last week. 

A moment of serenity and tranquility after walking through the bustling streets of the city was what you needed, a chance to breathe and escape the rush of pedestrians trying to make it to their next destination. You started picking up the pace, bouncing with each step in excitement as the buzzing jabbers of passerbyers filled your ears, the sounds of creaky car brakes and car horns accompanying you on your journey. 

You took a sip of your coffee as you approached the crosswalk to join the others waiting for the light to turn, but as you drew closer, a familiar hum caught your attention. It was low, extremely quiet, but it grew louder as you moved forward. 

Your heart stuttered, confused on what melody to follow as a pit of anxiety formed in your abdomen, your voice suddenly caught in your throat as you felt your body grow heavier. Your eyes panickedly looked around as you slowed your pace, trying to identify where this melody was coming from.

A few feet ahead of you stood a tall, lean figure you had become all too familiar with. Although you couldn’t see his face, you swore the man that stood there was none other than Hyunjin. You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as you stared ahead, your mouth drying up as your lips parted slightly. You didn’t know what you were feeling exactly, every emotion possible attacking your mind and body all at once. It felt as if everything around you was slowing, as if time paused as your eyes focused on him. The chatter of life faded into the background as the song of your lost love became deafeningly loud, taking over any coherent thought you could’ve had.

Your heart leaped for joy, desperately urging you to run towards him and pull him into a tight embrace, wishing to once again dance to the song of your love story. The burdensome weight of grief held you in place, tears pricking your eyes as a cold sweat rushed over your panicked body that demanded you turn away, pleading you were not ready to see him again, but the overwhelming shock didn’t let your feet move. It was as if the world beneath your feet disappeared, nowhere for you to go and all you could do was stare ahead as the lump in your throat turned into an uncomfortable, acidic taste your anxiety forced into your mouth.

Fear grew within you as you watched the man slowly turn his head to the side, holding your breath as you prepared to see the face you dreaded, yet yearned at the same time. As his side profile came into view, a blaring car horn snapped you out of your daze, the crowd of pedestrians came back into motion as someone scoffed when they bumped into your stilled body, and the music that once took over your senses suddenly dulled into the background. A wave of relief and mild disappointment washed over you as you realized the man before you wasn’t Hyunjin at all. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you along with your hopelessness, but it was just someone who happened to resemble his frame.

You let out an exasperated exhale, feeling exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster you just experienced. Although, for some reason, your body remained a bit tense as you could still hear the melody you recognized as yours and Hyunjin’s. It wasn’t as blaring as before, but the soft tune rang through your ears, impossible for you to ignore. 

Perhaps the near encounter earlier had startled you, you thought, it should go away soon enough. With that, you decided that was enough for today and maybe it would be better to spend the rest of the day at home, maybe you could convince Felix to watch a movie with you. 

As you turned on your heels to make the way back home, the music started to pick up again. The beat of the drums grew more powerful, the string instruments hummed earnestly, the pianist clanged the keys more feverishly as a strong gust of wind greeted you.

And that’s when you saw him.

There he was, standing right in front of you wearing a shocked, yet pained, expression. His eyebrows furrowed upwards, his lips slightly parted as his eyes brimmed with tears. Hyunjin looked awful. Dark circles and puffy eye bags decorated his pale face, his nose and cheeks flushed as if he spent the morning crying. 

He wanted to call for your name, tell you how much he missed you and how miserable he has been without you. He wanted to pull you into a bone crushing embrace, one where he swore he’d never let you out of. He wanted to sink his face into the crook of your neck and breathe in the scent of your shampoo he had missed so much. He selfishly wanted to remind himself of every detail of you possible, but his body remained unmoving, unable to act on any of his desires. His tongue thickened in mouth, caught in his throat, as if his body was turning into stone in a panic. 

He was angry with himself, trying to will himself to do something, say something, anything, but all he could do was stand there like a fool as he stared into the eyes he adored so much, hoping he would find the same look of love you always use to wear around him. The music grew louder, almost as if it was begging for him to speak his mind, spill his heart out to you.

You blinked away the tears that were starting to form, cursing yourself for crumbling so quickly at the mere sight of Hyunjin. Your heart swelled with love and joy, yet the familiar melancholy took residence in your stomach. As much as your heart ached for Hyunjin’s presence, you knew there was no point in giving into a dying romance, one that had no future ahead of it. It was best to bite the bullet and abandon it right then and there, for both of your sakes.

It took everything in you, but all you could do was muster a heartbroken smile as you bowed your head down, acknowledging Hyunjin’s presence as your feet briskly walked you out the scene, not even giving a second glance as you passed him because you knew you would fall apart if you caught his eyes once more.

Once again, the music died out, the piano fell out of tune as the strings snapped, an unpleasant screech leaving the clarinets as you walked past Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin spun around, watching your body disappear into the crowd of people as tears began to escape down his cheeks while his body began to tremble, unwilling to accept what just happened. His mind scrutinized him for being so pathetic, for not being able to call out your name to stop you from leaving, for not being able to grab your wrist and speak to you once more, for not being able to profess how he couldn’t live without you.

Have you forgotten about him already? Have you already moved on? Were you no longer in love with him? Was he just an idiot crying over someone who gave him no second thought? How could you walk by him so easily? Like he was another stranger on the street? Did you not care for him? Did you not want to know how he was doing this whole time? Did your relationship with him mean nothing to you?

Millions of questions and doubts plagued Hyunjin’s thoughts as he wordlessly stood in place, still unable to move from the sheer sadness and humiliation that filled him. God’s cruelty never relented and became so apparent to Hyunjin at this very moment. Was love supposed to be so painful? 

Ah, no, Hyunjin. Love was never meant to be painful, but the unfortunate truth was that love became undeniable in someone’s absence. It is in that moment of time where you cannot ignore the empty void love has abandoned you with no escape. All this love you have left over with nowhere to go will one day become something you get sick of. It is then where you must decide whether you’ll allow love to consume you in its overwhelming misery or use it to thrive and move forward. Love’s final, yet cruelest, act was grief. Grief is, and will always be, the truest testament of love.