#Would it actually be comforting or would it make him restless haha

[sysig]

Old habits die hard all the way around (Patreon)

[samsno1]

Honesty

Sam Winchester x Reader

lmao, i'm sorry. this is kind of an au where instead of sam getting the trials...you do! haha......might make a second part to this but i'll see how it'll do. also, in this there isn't the stupid "sam doesn't look for dean in purgatory" because the writers were fucked up when they wrote that, respectfully (or not)

Summary: You finally have a chance to close the Gates of Hell, forever, but everything comes with a cost, the question is, are you willing to pay for it?

Warnings: ANGST, love confessions, sad sammy, kisses, reader sees bobby as a father figure, reader is shorter than Sam, NOT PROOF-READ, english is not my first language

WC: 3.7k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

As you lie there, soaked in hellhound's blood, panting after a fight against the creature, the glasses you wore to be able to see it dirty and obstructing your view, Sam and Dean stare at you, frozen and horrified.

You knew they would try and talk you out of doing the trials, especially after Dean's words to both you and Sam before he went on to almost get killed by the hellhound. Of course you two had followed him, even if Dean explicitly said not to, and you ended up under the dog, his disgusting breath fanning on your face as he barked above you, trying to rip your neck off. You knifed it and it quite literally exploded over you, bathing you in his gooey substance.

Now, all of you were in a room, Dean pacing back and forth while Sam just stood with his head down. You had your arms crossed, your eyes accompanied Dean's movements. He was restless, probably angry and desperately trying to find a way to counter this.

“We can find another hellhound,” He argues “I kill it then it's all solved”

“Dean, Crowley will be even more on our asses over this, he will not let his dogs out of the leash” You say, calmly, trying to counter Dean's protectiveness in the lightest way possible. “I can do them”

After you said that Dean stopped pacing around and both him and Sam looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, almost as if you had just admitted to an unforgivable crime. The crime in the case was wanting to protect the brothers from these crazy trials. You knew how death followed them around like a plague and you couldn't handle losing them.

“No, Y/N, you're not doing these trials” Sam speaks up, a tinge of anger in his tone. Anger, worry. He looked at you, his hair casting a shadow over his face because of the poor lightning in the environment. “You could die”

“Well, too bad Sam” You said and the boys shared that look, a silent conversation between both of them, something that pissed you off in these moments because you had the right to know what they were plotting. “Look, I know you two feel like you have some responsibility over me, this…instinct to protect me ever since Bobby…” You trailed off, the memory of the man you considered to be your father still too heavy on you. Sam frowned and Dean changed his position, on edge. You cleared your throat, the sudden lump bothering you. “But I can protect myself, I can fight my own battles and, honestly? If we do close the gates of hell for good, which battles will be there to fight?” You say with a faint smile.

You look between both of them. They seemed deep in thought. Too deep and that worried you. You slowly walked towards Sam and when he took notice he stiffened up, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, his eyes taking in your rather dirty appearance. But still beautiful, he mentally stated.

Sam always thought you were the most incredible woman he ever met, invincible even, nothing could ever put you down and you could make everything work your way with your amazing mind and skills. And, obviously, your killer looks always managed to stun him every time, everywhere.

He was used to seeing you in any type of clothing, from suits and dresses to sweats and shirts with corny sayings written in the front, which you argued were comfortable. And you always looked absolutely gorgeous wearing anything. Sam used to think he just admired you, the looks from afar were just friendly appreciation, his yearn to be around you was just a protective instinct, the goosebumps on his skin when you’d touch him were just a natural reaction…

Until it wasn’t just. It was. And that was horrifying.

And it got worse when both you and him spent the last year alone looking for Dean and Cas. Spending so much time beside you made Sam realize what he truly felt towards you and he was scared. Scared to say anything and scared to lose you. So, when you killed that hellhound, his heart fell to his stomach because he knew you would want to do the trials. 

And when you stretched your hand to him, looking directly in his eyes, that determined gaze of yours slicing through his soul, he knew you would do anything to go along with this.

“Sam, give me the spell” You said firmly, not a request, a demand. He swallowed again, still speechless, still frozen, his fist tightening around the small paper which contained the words in enochian you were supposed to recite for the trials to start. You emphasize your demand by widening your eyes angrily and doing ‘come here’ motions with your stretched hand. “Sam”

“Y/N-”

“Dean.” You interrupt, anger seeping into your tone, making Dean shut his mouth into a thin line and a huff of air come out of his nose, just like a child would do when it was refused candy before dinner. He thought he’d seen you like this before, determined, practically unstoppable but boy was he wrong. You were more than insistent and that rang an alarm in Dean’s head. You knew that the one responsible for the trials could die and you were willingly going with it.

“Dean, can you give us a moment” Sam speaks up again and you quirk an eyebrow at him, looking between him and his brother. Sam looks at Dean, his pleading eyes and subtle nod giving enough information for Dean to get the message across. If there is one thing that can make you understand is honesty.

Dean slowly walks out of the room, giving you one last look that said clearly that you needed to listen with an open heart and mind to anything Sam would say. When he closed the door behind him, Sam’s eyes were already on you, trained on your features and you shifted your weight on your feet, his stare intimidating.

“So?” You said, trying to keep your ground. Sam sighed and lowered his head, considering all his options in the situation, he could tell you everything and be either rejected or accepted, he could lie to you, give you the wrong spell and work his way out like he always did and still keep you safe. Honesty. The word echoed in his mind like a chant.

He pushed himself off the table he was leaning on, crossing with you and going towards the bed to sit down. Your whole body accompanied his movements, his long strides making the distance between the table and the bed shorter than it actually was.

Once sat he looked at you and then at the spot beside him on the bed, silently asking you to sit with him and you caved, obliging to him. Your feet were light on the floor, quiet, accustomed to being silent while being a hunter, as you walked to the bed. The hardness of the cushion was not too much of a bother but still kept you grounded. Don’t let your guard down.

After making yourself as comfortable as possible, sitting criss-crossed, you turned towards Sam who was with both his feet on the floor, staring at his hands drying his sweat on his jeans. You waited for him to travel inside his own mind, finding the words, the phrases, the honesty. 

Honesty. Honesty. Honesty.

You swam in your own thoughts, especially those in which Sam was included. And those were the few thousands of reasons you wanted to be the one doing the trials, not him, not Dean. In your time alone, Sam had opened up to you about his want to live a normal life, away from apocalypses, monsters, gods…White picket fence, the whole nine. Dean had wanted that too, hell maybe he wouldn’t let go completely of the hunting but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with demons on his ass, never ever again. You didn’t see yourself getting out.

You grew up in this, much like the boys, but to you was different. You liked it. The adrenaline was like a drug pumping through your veins everytime you killed an abomination and, honestly, family wasn’t your strongest trait. All those whom you considered family were cremated – just because…we don’t usually bury hunters, so you can’t say they are six-feet under. Your love life was most definitely inexistent, you didn’t have time for falling in love with anyone.

Until. You did.

Until you fell. And hard. Face first in a bag of nails because you knew it would be trouble falling in love with Sam Winchester. You were both unlucky when it came to that feeling, always losing, always sacrificing, always in a battle. But how could you not? He was a gentleman in full, kind, sweet, caring and at the same time deadly – no pun intended. He would protect those he cared for with his life, his sense of protection his greatest quality. He was so selfless sometimes it made you mad. You had told him once ‘Be selfish, just this one time!’ and even so he couldn’t. It wasn’t his nature.

Sam wanted out of this and you wouldn’t let him abandon that dream because of you. You weren’t worth his life, you told him once after following a lead on how to open the doors to Purgatory and pull Cas and Dean out that almost got both of you killed. You were crying as you drove him to the hospital, the blood on your hands staining the steering wheel.

He was pale, his hand weekly pressing over the wound on his stomach, his breathing shallow. When you told him that, he trained his tired eyes on your face and in a rough and tired voice told you to shut up. Shut it, jerk. And fainted.

At the hospital you stayed hours by his bed every day. The doctors had told you he would be okay, that thankfully no vital organs were damaged and when he woke up you hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck desperately trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. His hands soothed you, rubbing your back up and down. You won’t get rid of me that easily, he had said and you laughed.

Ever since then you swore to yourself that you would guarantee that Sam wouldn’t put himself in danger for you anymore and you were not breaking that promise.

“Do you remember the night we met?” Sam spoke and you turned your eyes to his face, his hair shining against the yellow light and worry lines between his eyebrows.

“John had left you at Bobby’s and when I came back from school you scared the shit out of me. I had my gun in hand and everything until Bobby popped up, desperately trying to explain” You said, smiling at the memory. You were all so young back then, Sam was still shorter than you – which didn’t last long – and you had lost your parents a few months back.

“Ever since that night I knew you would be…something in the long run” You gave him a puzzled look and he laughed lightly at your face, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. “I knew you would turn out to be strong, brave and I knew you would end up being one of the most important people to me”

You smiled stupidly at that, your face heating up. You didn’t know what to say to him, your eyes drifting to your fingers over your lap because you couldn't keep his strong gaze. Sam sighed and considered his options, he could either hide his feelings for longer or be honest. Honesty, honesty. The word echoed through his mind like a mantra.

Sam reached his hand to wrap over one of yours, making your eyes shift from your hands to his face again. Physical touch wasn't uncommon between the both of you. Sleeping in the same bed when motels were full, sleeping on each other's shoulders, – more you than Sam given the height difference – hugs, cheek kisses, cuddling while watching movies. But something about this hand hold felt more intimate, like a wave of emotions were being poured over you like cold water. Sam squeezed your hand.

“I can't lose you” Sam said, his voice low because he knew that if he spoke any louder he could break.

“Sam–”

“Y/N. Please.” He begs, even if he doesn't know what he's begging for. Please, let me talk. Please, don't do the trials. Please, love me like I love you. “I can't lose you”

He repeats and you feel like you just got punched in the guts or like a knife went through your chest. He sounded so raw. Those four words meaning more than any poetry you've ever laid eyes upon. You squeeze his hand to ground yourself.

“Can't or won't?” You ask, voice weak.

“Both” He answers. “Both because I won't let you do this and can't because if I lose you I won't know how to keep going.”

You shake your head no, closing your eyes for a brief moment, your memories together flooding in again. His smile tattooed in your brain, his laugh playing over and over like a broken vinyl. You needed to do this.

“If I do this then that means you can finally have a life, a wife, kids…I can't let you lose this.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. “And I need to do this for you, for Dean, for Charlie…Losing me is just a consequence for the greater good”

Now it's Sam who shakes his head, low breathy no's coming out of his mouth. He looks up at you, eyes watery and those stupid puppy dog eyes staring right into your soul, crushing your heart to pieces.

“You don't get it” He says “When I look into the future I can't imagine–” He takes a breath, considering whether to tell you or not. Fuck it. “I can't imagine it without you. The house, the kids running around, the dog…they're ours.” He stops for a moment, waiting to see if you caught what he meant but you just looked at him, wide beautiful eyes full of confusion.

“Sam what are you–”

“And you're the wife. My wife.” He says and he can see the realization come into your face, slowly. The way your jaw drops slightly, your shoulders tense and your hand squeezes his even harder. Sam swallows but now he can't back away. “So I can't let you do this because if you do it and die I won't be able to keep going because I love you, Y/N. I love you and even if you don't reciprocate I won't stop loving you. You're the first thing I think when I wake up and the last thing I think about once I fall asleep.” He keeps going, almost out of breath once he finishes, avoiding your eyes, avoiding rejection. “So, please, don't”

Don't do this, don't reject me, don't run.

“Sam, look at me” You say, one hand slowly grasping his cheek, your thumb drying a tear that he didn't know had fallen. Once he looked at you he saw you smiling. Smiling with teary eyes. “I love you, too”

You practically whispered and a feeling rushed into Sam's body. Like someone had shot him up with adrenaline and suddenly he was aware of everything around him, your warm hand on his cheek, your hand under his, the white noise of the animals outside. And his own heartbeat.

He closed the distance between the both of you, his lips finally touching yours in desperation. Pure and raw desperation. His hand went up your arm to your neck, gently pulling you more into him and yours slipped to tangle into his hair, running the soft locks through your fingers.

The kiss felt electric and it burned. Burned you from the inside out with the wave of a thousand emotions. Your head went back to those moments with Sam. Your mind was just completely him.

And it was the same for the Winchester.

He already had thoughts consisting mostly of you but now he felt in heaven, like in finally connected with whom he mostly desired, both physically and emotionally. His other hand slipped around your waist to pull yourself over him as he laid down on the bed.

You followed and slightly smiled into the kiss. Until you grounded yourself. Sam wouldn't let you do the trials, not now that you had confessed, not now that he knew you loved him too. So you had to take matters into your own hands.

As Sam laid you over him, you straddled his hips, the kiss continuing into an unexplained hunger and lust for each other. You sensually dragged your hand down his chest, earning a soft gasp out of him, both his hands tangling in your hair, messing up your curls.

Your hand that slid down his body discreetly went into his pocket, feeling for the paper with the spell written on it. You mentally apologized over and over to Sam, your mouth opening to let his tongue in to explore it, butterflies flying around in your stomach. He was gentle, caring but yet hungry and you could feel it.

I'm sorry. 

You pulled away breathless, the paper clutched in your hand and Sam looked at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths and a confused frown on his face.

“I'm sorry Sammy” You said as you got off the bed and started to quickly pronounce the words in enochian, your hands trembling around the paper. Sam widened his eyes once he realized what you'd done, patting his pocket in reflex, knowing you had taken it out of there, and stubbled off the bed.

“Y/N, no, please!” He yelled but it was too late. Once you said the last word an almost unbearable pain cursed through your whole body, knocking you to your knees, a loud groan of pain leaving your throat.

Sam kneeled beside you with a hand on your back, mumbling curses and apologies to you but you couldn't hear him, the pain so strong it made your ears ring. You felt a burn, like you had injected lava into your veins, opening your eyes to see your arms shining. Everything was spinning and the only thing guaranteeing you that you were still alive was Sam's warm touch over your back.

After seconds of excruciating pain you felt it going down and saw your arms returning to their normal tone. You collapsed into Sam's arms and he made sure to hold you tightly, still mumbling apologies with his eyes glossy with tears.

“Why did you do this?” He repeated, over and over. He didn't know if he wanted to kill you or hug you so he decided for the latter. He hugged your frame, pressing your head against his chest with a trembling hand and giving light kisses over it.

His other hand pressed your back against him, making your whole body stay in contact with his. His knees hurt on the hard ground but nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart. He felt helpless.

You opened your eyes to look up at him, a faint smile on your face. You lifted a hand up to his cheek and took a very good look at the handsome man you loved. He was crying but he always looked beautiful, no matter how.

At your touch he closed his eyes, guilt spreading through his body. He touched his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes until you spoke up.

“I did this because I love you” You said and he opened his mouth to protest. You gave him a look, saying you weren’t done. “I love you too much to see you die and I know you can keep going if I die, you are one of the strongest men I know. You’re smart, you’re brave and you went through so much that I can’t let you give it up because of me. And you know I would never, ever, let you take responsibility over this and I don’t want you to blame yourself, this was my choice”

“I can’t– I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry I got you into this, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you–” You stopped him with a kiss and he sighed sadly, his hands wrapping around you tighter as if you would disappear at any second. You felt horrible but at the same time relieved. Relieved that if anything happened, Sam would live.

“Don’t say that” You whisper against his lips. “Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault. This is on me.” You say as you pull slowly away to look into his eyes, the mix of colors hypnotizing you. You felt like you could see every ounce of his soul through those eyes and it was filled with sadness.

Sam was angry, not at you, at himself. The moment he saw the hellhound die above you, bathing you in its blood he knew it was over, that you wouldn’t back away but still he blamed himself. If I were quicker. If I were smarter. The words ran around in his brain. When he looked at you he saw yet another one of those he loved dead. Another corpse that hung over his shoulder.

“We can do this, I can do this. I’m strong enough” You said. Sam knew you were strong but this was beyond you. This was God and Demons and Heaven and Hell. This was biblical and nothing like the things you faced before. He was scared.

“I know you are but what if I’m not?” He asks and you wait for him to continue. “What if I’m not strong enough to let you go if it comes to it?”

“You’ll have to be. If not for yourself, for me. Keep going for me” You reply with a soft look and a slight smile that made Sam choke on a sob and smash his lips against yours.

This kiss was filled with different emotions. Sadness, grief and guilt were poured into it but yet so much love. So, so much.

You didn’t get a verbal answer from Sam but you got plenty of information from the kiss. I’ll try, for you.

And that was enough.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.

[kimbap-r0ll]

How Dorm Leaders (+ Rollo) Sleep

Something that came into my mind last night when I was trying to sleep myself haha (also Rollo is starting gain more of my interest so there's that)

Riddle

You would think he would sleep straight in a line but he curls up in the fetal position. Doesn't make much noise, however you can catch him mumbling from time to time

Needs the room temperature to be just right in order for him to fall asleep. Surprisingly prefers the room to be a little on the warmer side. During the winter, you might find his bed with more blankets (all perfectly neat tho)

Will toss around a lot in his sleep, which surprises people because like said before he seems so rigid that he would be rigid when he's asleep. However, he is capable of punching someone while unconscious

I think he would want something to hold onto, which he would never admit but he usually holds onto something from his childhood (ie a plushie Trey surprised him with when he was younger). Or, if he happens to have an s/o that happened to share the bed one night he would curl up to them

Leona

He can sleep anywhere and will try everywhere. He can sleep through a rock concert he is talented. Leona also doesn't make much noise but he does have a light (quite relaxing) snore (don't tell him he'll be embarassed)

I feel like he would sleep on his stomach, like if you ever see lions sleeping he would sort of be like that. He doesn't really grab things when he sleeps but if he has an s/o who's nearby he may chokehold them by accident :/

Though he's a heavy sleeper, if you even call out his name quietly I feel like he would wake up haha. He also needs at least 8hrs of sleep each night but give or take he's definitely pulled all nighters before

One thing he hates however is places that are cold! He can't fall asleep no matter what, even with blankets I feel like he would have a hard time dozing off when compared to other times. He likes his dorm because it's on the warmer side

Azul

Man barely sleeps because he's such an academic weapon (unhealthy version). He gets about 5-3 hrs of sleep most of the time but on occasion he'll sleep for like 13 hrs during the break

He sleeps in a straight line, sort of like the soldier position, but then he slowly spreads himself out and before you know it he's tossed the blanket off of the bed and turned his body around that his head's on the opposite side of the bed.

Will be able to sleep AS LONG AS there is a bed or something that is meant to be slept on. He does doze off or take quick naps on his office chair but it's only so comfortable.

If he has an s/o, they better be prepared to get in a chokehold everytime they share a bed. He almost instinctively grabs onto things when he sleeps, sometimes talks a bit while he sleeps, and has definitely pulled Floyd/Jade by accident haha

Kalim

Sleeps well, has a good schedule, but is a bit restless when he sleeps. Tends to sleep starting out with the fetal position with a pillow in his arms but then slowly covering every sleep position known to man

He needs the place that he sleeps to be super plush, like a shit ton of pillows. It's something he's more used to and therefore feels the most relaxed in. However, he is able to sleep on any bed (cannot sleep on a chair unless in class hahaha)

Snores lightly, but it's not as noticeable as compared to perhaps other students. He doesn't really grab onto anything but somehow kicks everything off. Also it's almost impossible to wake him up after he's fallen asleep, which has led to Jamil throwing pillows on Kalim's head from time to time

If he has an s/o, I feel like he would want to cuddle a bit before the two fall asleep when they decide to share a bed. He tends to like hugging them really tightly but while he's asleep his s/o might be thrown off of the bed (by accident of course)

Vil

Actually sleeps in the same position throughout the whole night it's scary. Sleeps slightly to the side but not completely, sort of like a fetal position but not all the way. He barely makes any noise, some people wonder if he's dead while he's sleeping :/

He needs wherever he's sleeping to be clean or at least a bit tidy. He also makes sure to get adequate sleep hours so he can be healthy both mentally and physically. However, because of his busy life, he has taken naps at studios or pulled all nighters with the power of coffee

A light sleeper, someone could shuffle some papers and he would wake up immediately. It's not that he wants to, he just picks up on noises really easily. Also, he does have a bedtime routine and has made at least 80% of Pomefiore try it out at least once

If he has an s/o, he would want them to try the routine with him. He sleeps facing away from his s/o at first but they may catch Vil facing them by the morning, it's not that he doesn't want to cuddle or anything, he just doesn't want to intrude on their privacy or personal space.

Idia

Also barely sleeps but unlike Vil it's because he's busy gaming, watching an anime, or tinkering with his own creations (I do see him making his own games). Lives on energy drinks it's concerning. Gets about 2-4 hours of sleep each day when he wants to (emphasis on wants)

I feel like he sleeps on his side with a pillow somewhere between his legs or at least somewhere close to his body (likes having something sort of like a weight on him). However, he too tends to kick everything off of his bed and he never really bothers picking it all up until there's absolutely nothing left on his bed haha

Wakes up easily too. Ortho might try to sneak in for something but Idia will wake up immediately and be like "yo." He also doesn't make much noise but will occasionally drop random lines from his dreams. He can sleep anywhere, as long as he is able to relax he can sleep (he just chooses not to)

If he has an s/o, he might sleep facing them because he just likes looking at them (thinks they're just so pretty/handsome/honestly anything that equates to amazing). He might hold their hand while sleeping too, and surprisingly won't kick them off

Malleus

I feel like he sleeps in the fetal position and snores lightly. Won't say anything in his sleep. He also likes to hold onto something when he sleeps, usually a pillow

He likes his room to be cold, like castle-with-stone-walls sort of cold, mostly because he likes to then bundle up. He gets an average amount of sleep and doesn't really pull all nighters unless he's busy walking around looking for hidden places or is talking with someone (aka Yuu)

He's a light sleeper, mostly because he is really aware of his surroundings but when he wakes up I feel like it gets him a minute to fully comprehend what someone is saying. He might look at them blankly while blinking a few times before being like "oh yeah, what's up :D"

If he has an s/o, expect him to really want to hug them throughout the entire night. He may be the scariest dorm leader + one of the strongest magic users in all of Twisted Wonderland but he's an extreme softie.

Rollo

He sleeps like a r o c k. A marble s l a b. He will stick to the soldier position and sleep like he's in a coffin change my mind. Barely makes a noise too so some people have asked if he's alright haha

However! He does have a bit of movement in his sleep that might make him wake up on his stomach. He barely sleeps too mainly because of work. When he does get a lot of sleep, I do see him being more restless

He needs the room to be a little bit on the cold side and for there to at least be a bed. He can sleep on a desk sure but it's just not that comfortable for him (he also feels like it's out of place in a way). He's very similar to Riddle except a bit less warm

If he has an s/o, he may be too shy to actually ask if they would be comfortable with him facing them if they happen to share a bed. He might hold onto their hand when the two sleep, but doesn't get very close in the case he intrudes on their personal space

[sixpossumsinatrenchcoat]

Natural Satellite [ch 6]

An In Stars and Time AU. In chapter six, the gang faces the King. (Spoiler warning thru Act 4)

It’s been a while since you actually fought the King. Why bother? It’s not like there’s anything waiting on the other side. Just a soppy little coda that doesn’t even resolve anything. No closure. No catharsis. No point. But Isa insisted, about the dagger. He practically begged you. If you go back on your word now, he’ll probably get a lot less cooperative. Which would be inconvenient. And you can’t think of any other way to skip the fight without letting the King kill everyone. (You could bear it, when they wouldn’t remember. But you can’t do it anymore. Not to Isa.) (It hurts to die.) The King is moaning again, whining about his stupid embarrassing ambitions. Ooohh, maybe the real victim is me actually! Maybe you guys should just lay down and die! It might have a little more appeal as a musical number. Give the fight a little razzle-dazzle. But it isn’t. It’s just a huge loser, crying. You zone out.

Watching Siffrin sleep makes Isa’s chest clench. Sif was always a tiny little guy, but they look even smaller in sleep. Hat off, guard down. Hugging their knees to their chest like they’re trying to disappear completely. They might even look peaceful, if not for the dark circles hollowing their eyes. And for the way they keep twitching and flinching, like even their dreams aren’t safe.

Sif circled the tree six times before choosing their spot, fastidious as a housecat. If Isa wasn’t totally spineless, he might have asked if they wanted to rest their head in his lap. N-Not because he wanted them to!!! Or… well. Not exclusively. Mostly it was just because Sif looked so tired. Like it’d been a million years since they last got a sound night’s sleep. And also because it kinda made Isabeau want to cry, watching Sif look around warily before laying his head down on a tree root.

It probably wouldn’t offend them just to ask. Just a simple, Hey, Sif? You look pretty uncomfortable… and I’m just sitting here, so… it really wouldn’t get in my way if you—if you wanted—if you might be more comfortable resting your head on something a little less, um, made of wood? Like, I dunno… a chunk of moss, or a stack of leaves, or... or even j-just my…

But—nope! Haha! Nnnnope!! There’s no point, anyway. Sif would just say no, and then Isa would have to sit here, watching them, knowing that they’d rather stretch out on a bed of nails than entrust their sleep to him.

It’s probably for the best. Being Sif’s pillow would be distracting. (Like, really really really distracting.) And Isa’s got enough on his mind as it is.

If the time loops aren’t a divine blessing to help Mira beat the King, then what are they for? They must be related to Sif, or else he wouldn’t have been stuck here all alone for all this time. But then why would that change now? Why would it happen in the first place?

There’s a stifled squeak. Siffrin, whimpering in his sleep.

Isa’s palms itch. Of course he knows better than to wake Sif up. At this point, it seems pretty clear that restless sleep is still miles better than no sleep at all. Still, he can’t suppress the instinct to reach out, to pet and fuss and soothe. And… maybe Sif wouldn’t mind?

But he’s kidding himself. He already saw how Sif reacted when he tried. Siffrin is quicker and sharper than anyone, but when Isa reached out, they froze like a rabbit. Paralyzed. Afraid.

…Isa did that. He did that to them.

“Stop,” Isabeau whispers to himself, out loud. He needs to focus. Sif just gave him a lot to think about, and his notes won’t stick around for long. He has all these scattered shards, twisty little splinters of a larger picture that must exist. But it feels like all he’s got are edge pieces. Like he’s still missing something central, fundamental.

He just needs a little more data.

* * *

Sure enough, that article is right where Isabeau remembered: tacked to the wall on the first floor, surrounded by hand-drawn sketches and still-lifes.

None of the articles include anything particularly helpful (e.g., say, a list of weaknesses, or an explanation of how the King’s power actually works). Mostly it’s just about how he showed up out of nowhere, and how nobody really knows where he came from. But they do have plenty to say about his fashion sense.

Siffrin frowns at the photo. “Those patterns…”

"On his chest and gauntlets, you mean?" Isa asks, curious. They're not particularly eye-catching. Just a bunch of big diamonds.

"It's just a weird losange," Bonnie huffs. They’ve never had much interest in fashion. "What's so weird about that?

Siffrin just shakes their head. “Those are stars.”

* * *

Sif moves differently now. Isa couldn’t tell back in Dormont, but in the House, it’s unmistakable There’s a leonine grace; a predatory gleam. Sif weaves through the halls like a shark that’s scented blood. Cold, efficient. Utterly without fear. When they sense him, the Sadnesses scatter like minnows. They cower in corners and blunder into walls, blind in their terror.

He doesn’t slow down until they get to the library, where they hesitate in front of one of the shelves, running a finger down the sparkly, rhinestone-studded spine of a book. They don’t open it. But they don’t have to. Isa remembers this part. Mira read it to them just two loops ago. It was a diary, someone’s memory of the day that everyone forgot an entire country. Just thinking about trying to remember gives Isa the beginnings of a headache. And Sif—

Sif asked him to say it anyway.

They looked so serious. Desperate. Like they were hungry for something they couldn’t even name.

The picture tilts. A new variable, sliding into place.

…Oh, Isa thinks to himself. Okay. It’s starting to come together.

* * *

The King’s shadow darkens the entire House, but nowhere more than the third floor. His hair curls around every doorway like the twisting vines of some pallid, lightless plant that only grows deep underground. The air hums with Craft. It makes Isa’s skin prickle, makes the hair on his arms stand up straight. No matter where you go, you can always hear the clamor of the King’s sobs, a wrenching, discordant wail that sounds like it’s being wrung out of him with a wine key. It’s overpowering. Inescapable. Isa doesn’t scare easily—not in a fight, at least—and even he can feel the dread seeping into his blood. Some primal, animal corner of his brain is telling him to run. Run. Run. You’re in danger. You’re not a hunter here. You’re prey.

And just a few steps in front of him, Sif is leading the charge with an impatient little scowl. He looks distracted. Bored. Like they’re waiting in a too-long line at the market.

They know the way, too. Right turn, left turn, pick up the key and track back. A quick stop in Mira’s room, then north for another key. In the corner of his eye, Isa can see Madame Odile eyeing them suspiciously. Siffrin doesn’t seem to notice.

And then they’re at the King.

Isabeau promised not to get in the way this time, and he’s not about to break a promise. He keeps his mouth shut while Siffrin steps forward.

“Where are you from?”

The King looks straight at them. When he brushes his hair aside, Isa can see his eyes burn white. Silver-white, like Siffrin’s. “.....What about you, bright one..... Where are you from?”

Siffrin flinches.

The King laughs.

* * *

* * *

* * *

It’s been a while since you actually fought the King. Why bother? It’s not like there’s anything waiting on the other side. Just a soppy little coda that doesn’t resolve anything. No closure. No catharsis. No point. It doesn’t even tie up any loose ends. Isa’s stupid confession is foreshadowed for the whole script—now that you know what to look for, it’s honestly a little heavy-handed—and by the time the curtain falls, nothing has changed. Chekhov’s gun lies cold on the mantle. At a certain point, it’s just bad writing.

But Isa insisted, about the dagger. He practically begged you. If you go back on your word now, he’ll probably get a lot less cooperative. Which would be inconvenient. And you can’t think of any other way to skip the fight without letting the King kill everyone. (You could bear it, when they wouldn’t remember. But you can’t do it anymore. Not to Isa.)

(It hurts to die.)

The King is moaning again, whining about his stupid embarrassing ambitions. Ooohh, maybe the real victim is me actually! Maybe you guys should just lay down and die! It might have a little more appeal as a musical number. Give the fight a little razzle-dazzle. But it isn’t. It’s just a huge loser, crying.

You zone out.

* * *

You beat the King, obviously. It’s easy now. Buff. Attack. Block. Attack. Bomb. Attack. You’re never even in any real danger, so does it really have to take so long?

The others cheer, after you finish him off. You remember to cheer, too. In the corner of your eye, you can feel Isa’s gaze on you. You do not look back.

* * *

How many times have you been on this rooftop? Probably the number doesn’t matter. All that matters is that nothing ever worked, and nothing ever changed.

There’s too much in your head. You can feel thoughts ticking, tickling, prickling. Where the expanse of possibility should stretch endlessly into the horizon, there’s only history. Hindsight. Nowhere to go but back.

You look at Euphrasie.

Your whole nervous system clenches in on itself. Your blood cold and turgid; your windpipe crusted shut with blackened sugar. Your lips itch. Your throat burns. You Cannot Talk To Her Again.

Your hands twitch toward your dagger.

…But you promised.

“Isa,” you mumble, shuffling toward his corner of the rooftop. “Can I… talk to you?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course! Always!”

“No, I mean. Um. Alone?”

In the background, Odile whistles. You very graciously ignore her.

“Oh!” Isa squeaks. “Y-Yeah, I— Yeah, of course!”

You wonder idly whether he knows that you know what he wanted to tell you, back when that was still something he cared about. Probably he doesn’t. You have a history of obliviousness, apparently. But Isabeau does too.

It doesn’t matter. That’s not what you need to talk to him about.

* * *

You are keenly aware of your family’s eyes on you as Isabeau trails you down the steps and around the corner. You might feel embarrassed, if you didn’t know for a fact that this entire timeline was about to be wiped from existence.

“I can’t talk to her,” you announce, once you’ve decided that you’re out of range.

Isa blinks at you. “Um? To…”

“The Head Housemaiden.”

“...Huh?”

Oh. That’s right. You never explained this part. Probably because you didn’t want to be here. “You know how, even if we beat the King, I still loop back?”

Isa nods.

You nod at Euphrasie. “This is where it happens.”

“Wait, she—” Isabeau looks over his shoulder and then back, goggle-eyed. “Don’t tell me Mira’s mom kills us????”

You can’t suppress a snort. “Um. No. Not like that. I talk to her, and then it’s over.”

“Wa-a-ait,” Isa says slowly. “You mean… Do you mean without dying???”

You shrug.

“But… But wouldn’t that mean—”

“No.”

“But if we could loop back without—”

“No.” He doesn’t understand. Nothing hurts worse than talking to Euphrasie.

Isabeau hesitates. “But… But if she can—”

“I can’t talk to her again.” Just thinking about how hopeful you felt, the first few times—

But that was a long time ago.

Isabeau studies your face. You expect him to press you, but—he doesn’t.

“Okay,” he says instead. He exhales slowly, brushes off his hands. “Okay! Then, um, what would you normally do here?”

For just a second, your eye flicks toward your dagger.

“Ah,” Isa says. “Okay, well. Thanks for… not doing that.” He takes a breath, lets it out. “So… what do you wanna do instead?”

“…You could stab me?”

“Sif.”

Yeah, you didn’t really think he was going to go for it. “I could jump off?” You’ve never tried that before. It might be nice to feel something new!

“No???”

You scowl at him. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“...You really can’t talk to her?”

You nod. You really really can’t.

“Could I talk to her?” he asks hopefully.

You shake your head. You know you’re being difficult, but—no. He can’t! And it wouldn’t work, probably, anyway. That’s not how it’s ever worked.

Isabeau heaves a breath. “Okay. Then we just… find another way, right?”

You shrug.

“But we couldn’t figure that out last time,” his eyes flicking toward your shoulder. “We’d have to try something… else, I guess. Um. Do you… have any ideas? About why it didn’t work, or… what we could try instead?”

You think about it. You liked feeling his hand on your shoulder, you think. You think you liked it. But your cloak is thick and sturdy. You could barely even feel him. “Maybe because I couldn’t feel it on my skin?”

“Oh,” Isa whispers. “Um. D-Do you think so?”

Another shrug. What do you know? The only time touch made you loop was—

(—shut up shut up THAT NEVER HAPPENED.)

Isabeau swallows. He wraps one hand around his arm, clutching tight enough to bunch the fabric of his sleeve. “Um…”

You huff a breath. “Sorry. Never mind. It was stupid.”

“N-No!! It’s not that!! It’s just that you’re… kinda all covered up? Except your—um.” He looks away. “Your… f-face.”

…Oh.

You shouldn’t think about it and you are thinking about it, now, irrevocably. Isa’s hand on your cheek. His very warm, very large hand, cradling the side of your face. Fingers brushing your cheekbone, your temple. If you asked him, with your face burning under his touch, to tell you what he’d promised to confess, would he finally do it?

But you can’t risk it. Not here, not now. There are no more second chances. Isabeau’s already trapped here with you. Haven’t you hurt him enough?

“...Sif?”

Carefully, you peel off your gloves.

“Ohh,” Isa breathes. “Are you… D-Did you wanna…”

“I want to stab myself,” you snap, before reining yourself in. “Sorry. No. I just mean, I don’t mind stabbing myself.” It doesn’t take too long, and it always works. And it’s… yours. Not just something happening to you. “But if you wanted to try something else…”

Isa’s hand flits closer. But he doesn’t grab yours. He just—holds it out to you, palm-up. There’s an appealing flush darkening his ears, sweat beading on his brow. It’s silly, really. There’s no reason to be nervous about something like you; something that’s not even a person. But he is. It’s… interesting.

You know that you should feel sorry. You know it should embarrass you. But there’s something appealing about seeing him like this. Disarmed, unarmored. Over-exposed as a shucked oyster. It makes you feel sort of… powerful.

(Disgusting.)

You meet him in the middle. Reach out and trace a line from the tip of his longest finger to the soft skin of his wrist, where his pulse thrums through it. You pretend not to notice the way that he shudders.

“Soft,” you mumble. You’d expected his hands to be tougher, scarred and callused like yours. Especially since he fights with his fists. But you were right about one thing. He is very, very warm.

“I.” His voice comes out choked and strangled. “—have a good skincare routine?”

You snort. The pad of your thumb circles his palm, just to make his breath hitch. You can feel his pulse quicken and that’s interesting, too, so you do it again before uncurling your hand and laying your palm flat against his.

Isa pulls in a shuddering breath. You can see him steeling himself, gathering his courage before he slots his fingers into the spaces between yours and then you’re—holding hands. You’re holding hands. It feels almost familiar. Has someone held your hand before? When you try to remember, the thought twists away.

“Um,” Isa says hoarsely. “So. D-Do you feel—um—loop-y?”

You think about it. “I think you’re being too careful.”

His eyes widen.

“I think it won’t work if you don’t surprise me,” you explain. “Like. Catch me off guard.”

“O-Oh,” he whispers. “Really?”

You nod.

You’re aware that you’re pushing him. Pushing his boundaries; shoving through his comfort zone and out the other side. But that’s because you don’t want to be here.

There’s a reason you stopped coming here. Started asking your questions and ending the loop, instead of beating the King at all. You’re tired of this. Tired of hearing the same fumbling aborted confession. Tired of watching Isa decide that maybe he’d rather not know you, after all. That he’d rather be safe than be yours.

You want to push him. You want to scare him, a little. Make him suffer, make him squirm. It’s only fair, isn’t it? He’s been toying with you for a hundred loops.

(...You’re disgusting.)

Isa scuffs his feet, shifts his weight. “Um. Um… Do you… have any ideas?”

You raise an eyebrow. “If I tell you, it’s not really a surprise, Isa.”

“Haha, yeah!!!!!! I guess you’re right!!!” He looks down at your joined hands and swallows. “And. And you’re sure we can’t just—“

You glare at him and he actually squeaks. It’s cute. No it isn’t, it’s cruel. You’re playing with him, like a kid pulling the wings off a butterfly. Sadistic.

“Okay, okay, okay. No Housemaiden. S-So it just has to be… something you’d never expect…” He falters. “…Promise you won’t get mad?”

“I don’t know,” you say honestly. It probably depends on what he does.

“Y-Yeah, of course. Of course. And you really won’t—um—I mean—because I could do all the talking…“

“She does all the talking.”

“Okay!!” he squeaks. “S-Sorry!! Then I’ll just—um. L-Let me just try…”

Tentative, slow, he wraps his fingers around your wrist. You have maybe half a second to process what’s happening before he raises your hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to your palm, right where it meets your wrist. Sparks under your skin. Lightning on your tongue. You’ve never been more aware of your own nerve endings.

You blink up at him, heat-dazzled, only to find his face burning. Eyes glossy with shame, and—something else. His gaze is locked on the place where he ends and you start but when he senses you staring he catches your eye and it’s— Oh, Stars. Oh, Change or Expressions or Gems, it’s— He’s so desperate. He’s so ashamed. He wants you so much.

(—Not you. Not you. He doesn’t want you, he wants the role you were playing. But it’s hard to remember when he’s so beautiful, and so close. And so hungry. You can see it in the ember of his eyes, burning for you. But he can’t, he shouldn’t, it’s wrong; you’re disgusting and wrong and you know but he’s—he’s looking at you like he can actually see you. Like he could see you and still want you.)

There’s a shift in his stance. Isa, tilting closer, squeezing his eyes shut. He draws your wrist toward his mouth and you realize with terror that he’s going to do it again—except that he can’t, because if he does it again, you can’t be sure what kind of sound you’ll make and the pressure building in your throat feels dangerously like a whimper, and—and if you whimper, then he’ll know; he’ll know that you—he’ll know that you—

[ f e e l   a   t u g   a t   y o ur   s t o m a c h ]

And you wake up in a field.

If you wanna get updates as soon as I post em, feel free to follow the series on ao3!

[blossomwritesthings]

Oooh, okay.

Idk if this is okay but I'm going to shoot my shot.

Can you please do either yandere bang chan or lee know (you can pick).

Fluff+ smut+ angst

The reader is starting to become unhappy and lee know or bang chan uses sex as a way to 'take care of them?'

Thank you 👍🏻👍🏻

𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞

pairing: chan x fem!reader (afab)

genre: slightyandere!chan. idol!chan. hurt/comfort. angst. slight fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ ONLY. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. this one's got the angst lmao. some mild fluff (i think??). reader is experiencing burnout from work/feeling unhappy and depressed. chan knows what's going on and wants to help. pet names (baby girl, babe, etc.). smut warnings below cut!!

word count: 4.8k

summary: recently, life's been feeling rather dull for you. and with you getting caught into the trap of doing the same daily grind, it's up to your boyfriend chan to shake you from your cloud of unhappiness and try and heal your exhausted heart.

18+ warnings: unprotected sex (stay safe out there, guys!). dirty talk. top!reader. soft!dom/sub/switch undertones. making out. strength kink. manhandling. praise kink. nipple/breast play. riding (cowgirl style, baby 🤪!!). slight sub-space. scratching.

a/n: okay, so i might've gone a little ham on this one, but IN MY DEFENSE- chan is just so fucking hot lmao. and the idea of actually getting to top him for once??? when he's usually a leaning dom in bed?? yeah, the brain isn't computing and is instead melting atm. 🫠 hope you like this one, and that it's to your liking, @whatudowhennooneseesyou... thanks for requesting (and sorry for the late posting haha, uni has been a total bitch this semester)!! 💕

🤎 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The headache came onto you like a literal bitch that night. You tried your hardest to focus on the work that was laid out before you on your desk, but it was hard to concentrate when your temples were throbbing with pain. 

 It felt like someone had taken hold of your skull, and was squeezing the very life out of it. 

 A deep sigh fled from your lips as you stared down at the project you had been working on for the past two months. It was due to be submitted to your manager in the next week, and everything about your job hinged on you getting it right. It was a report on all of your past work for the entire year, and it was of the utmost importance that you got all of the facts correct. 

 You hated that you were working so late into the night, but there was no way to avoid it. Since you started on the project, it had been full speed ahead. You hadn’t taken a single break from the work and even committed every waking second of your weekends to it. 

 This, of course, put your relationship with your boyfriend Chan into jeopardy - on somewhat of a hold. 

 Sure, he was just as busy as you, and would usually stay up with you most nights working on his projects, but things were just… different for him. 

 He was doing what he loved. He was staying up late into the night to create things that he adored. 

 Whereas, you were barely scraping by. Barely surviving through this stupid project. 

 But you kept telling yourself, every day that you awoke from a restless sleep, that it was just a little bit longer. 

 Just a little bit longer, and then everything would be okay. 

 Just a little bit longer, and then you’d feel happy again. 

 Because honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you had let yourself go - let your mind wander away from the constant stress of work - and indulge in some true, unadulterated joy. 

 The days seemed to pass by in a blur, folding into one another and forming a huge lump that just spelled unhappiness. 

 It was honestly really fucking depressing, to wake up every day and not feel the zest for life that you once did. You used to love your job. It used to be your entire personality, the thing that kept you going for such a long time. 

 But you didn’t quite remember the moment when it had stopped feeling that way, and instead felt like something that was slowly sucking the life right out of you. 

 You tried to keep your unhappiness hidden from Chan as best as you could. Since he already had to deal with so many unhappy people in his life; managers, members, family, and especially fans. Plus, he tended to unnecessarily worry for you whenever you’d fall into such dark holes of bleakness. 

 It had happened before… twice, to be exact. 

 Once, when you had just started dating, and then another time well into your relationship. 

 Chan had taken it all in stride and helped you get yourself back on track, but this time… 

 This time just felt so much different. 

 You were seriously at a loss for what to do. 

 On the one hand, you didn’t want to stop working at your job. It had been your livelihood for so long, and you feared how its absence would make you feel if you decided to quit. 

 But on the other hand, the constant drainage, the constant stress, and the slowly growing depression and unhappiness weren’t a burden you could bear for much longer. 

 Even still, you had to finish your project. 

 If you didn’t, you had no idea what would happen. 

 And your manager was a stickler about deadlines. 

 If you even submitted projects an hour over the deadline, you got an astute scolding from him. 

 Trying to clear your mind from your useless worries, you began to focus back on the work at hand, your eyes scrolling down the enormous sheets of paper that you had filled out earlier that day at work. You turned back to your laptop to begin searching for your next topic of research when your eyes caught on your screensaver. 

 It was a picture a passing stranger had taken - upon request - for you and Chan when the two of you had visited the nearby mountains as a Christmas weekend getaway in the year prior. The two of you were beaming in the photo, with Chan’s arms firmly wrapped around your waist and you leaning into his hold, pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek. 

 You swallowed at the sight of it all. At your blatant happiness. 

 And you couldn’t even remember the last time you two had done such a thing- the last time you had gone on a date. 

 It had been well over two months, ever since you started on your big project. 

 Just thinking about that, about the fact that this odd… distance had suddenly grown between you two, only forced the solid pit in your stomach to widen. 

 But looking at the bright screen only seemed to worsen your headache in the end, so you deemed it okay to call it a night. It was Friday, so you’d have plenty of time to continue your work for the rest of the weekend. 

 Folding up your binder filled with papers and scraps, you shoved everything - including your work laptop - into your bag that was thrown onto the floor nearby. Standing up from your desk chair after what felt like hours of being hunched over in the same position, you immediately felt relief in your spine from the stretch of being upright. 

 You filed out of your home office then, the one that you and Chan shared in your apartment. The living room/kitchen lights were all switched off, indicating that Chan had already come home and was probably working in bed. 

 And sure enough, as you closed your bedroom door behind you with a mild click, you saw your boyfriend sitting on his side of the bed, laptop and mechanical keyboard open as he worked away at producing. 

 His eyes flitted up to you at your approach near the bed. “Hi, baby girl,” he said, voice low from not being used in so long. 

 You offered him a weak smile, the exhaustion beginning to take over at the mere sight of your bed. But no, you had to take a shower. That’d surely help your head feel better. “Hi… I was about to take a shower. Wanna join?” You asked, already stripping yourself of your blue denim jeans. 

 Chan rose an eyebrow your way, his curly, dark brown hair hanging low in front of his eyes. “Yeah, sure, just give me a minute to finish up here.” He finally said, focusing back on his laptop once more. 

 Saying nothing more, you stepped into the adjoining bathroom to prepare the shower. Your head hurt from the stark, hospital-white lights of the bathroom, so you decided to light a few of the candles that you had placed around the room, to give some nice ambient lighting to everything.

 You two hadn’t done such a thing - showered together - in quite a while. Which was why you assumed your boyfriend had given you such a peculiar look at your offer. 

 But, at that moment, you realized that you needed him. 

 Needed to feel him close, under the hot water, if only just for a few minutes. 

 Maybe then, all of the fears and concerns of your life would wash away. With the suds and liquid. 

 In no time at all, you had the water warmed up and were standing under its delicate spray, combing a few fingers through your hair and massaging at your temples. Already, the heat was a great help to soothing the pain that radiated across your skull. 

 You heard movement just off to the side of the shower then, and your eyes cracked open as Chan was stepping in behind you. Immediately, the water was running down in rivulets across his skin, trekking down the smoothe plain of his chiseled abs. 

 You stayed silent and turned around so that your back was to him as he was closest to the spout now.

 “You got a headache?” He asked, voice smooth and gracing across your ears against the sound of the water running between you. He knew you so well. Knew that whenever you’d turn on the bathroom candles, it meant your head wasn’t in the right space. 

 “Yeah… got it from work,” you began, leaning down and grabbing your coconut-scented shampoo bottle. “I’m sure it’ll go away after this shower.” 

 “Here, let me…” Chan said, suddenly taking the bottle from your grasp. You stood completely still, spine going rigid at the feeling of his hands beginning to rake through your locks, the subs of the shampoo weighing down your hair. “Work’s that stressful, huh?” 

 “You’re telling me.” You groaned in displeasure, closing your eyes against the feeling of his practiced fingers running across your scalp. He hadn’t washed your hair in such a long time, it felt somewhat foreign to you. “I just wanna be done with this project already. It’s so fucking stressful.” 

 Your boyfriend was silent for a few beats, as he tipped your head back and washed the shampoo out of your locks. “You’ve been so busy lately... sometimes, I think your schedule’s even more packed than mine.” Chan finally mused, laughing soon after. But it wasn’t full of mirth. Instead, it was dry and humorless. 

 Because there wasn’t anything funny about your situation; about your unhappiness, or your coming burnout, or your growing depression. 

 “At times, I wonder if I should even keep working at this job…” You started, feeling Chan begin to massage the paired conditioner into your hair neck. “But then I remember why I started and how it would make me feel if I left, so I always end up staying.” 

 “But how does it make you feel when you continue to stay?” 

 That threw you for one. 

 You weren’t expecting such a serious question from him. 

 And all at once, the floodgates were opened. 

 The first thing to unleash from deep inside of you were the tears. They ran down your cheeks hard and fast, before being washed away with the shower’s water. 

 You wiped at your eyes helplessly, breath hitching painfully in your throat. “I don’t even know why I stay- it’s so fucking exhausting and stressful. I-I just can’t take it anymore.” You mumbled, miserably holding your face in your hands. 

 Chan had stopped his washing and was slowly turning you around then. His fingers found yours, and slowly pulled them away from your warm-cheeked face. “Hey, it’s alright, baby girl… no one’s forcing you to stay there.” 

 “Yeah, but if I leave, I’ll lose such a big part of myself.” 

 “But maybe, you need to put that part of you to rest. To bury it in the past.” 

 You stared up at him through blurry eyes, your chest rising and falling with your uneven breaths. The tears were still flowing, unbidden, down your cheeks. “I… I’m just so lost, Chan. I don’t know what’s the right decision anymore.” 

 He leaned into you then, gently pressing his heated forehead against yours. “Well, you don’t have to make a decision just yet. But… I just want you to be happy again, yeah? I wanna see that spark in your eyes come to life, like before.” 

 Your eyes widened slightly at that. So, he had noticed everything. But of course, he had- he was just so perceiving that way. “Y-You… how did you know that I’m unhappy?” You blurted out, still taken aback by his words. 

 He tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, “I’ve always known, baby girl. You can’t hide anything from me… I just know you too well.” 

 “Then… why didn’t you say anything?” 

 Chan shrugged, canting his head to the side in thought, “I don’t know, I guess… I wanted to give you some space. It seemed like you needed it, to work through your feelings. I didn’t want to be too overbearing and stuff, since I worried that that would make you even more overwhelmed. But- I realize now that I shouldn’t have done that. Should’ve talked to you about everything, before you fell too far.” 

 “It’s not your fault,” you said, reaching up and abruptly pressing a faint kiss to his lips, “It was my decision not to tell you how I felt about everything. I’m sorry, I should’ve communicated better.” 

 He gave you a tiny, satisfied smile then, pecking you right back. “Well, we’re communicating now, so that’s all that matters, right?” 

 You nodded slowly, and silence fell between the two of you again. You bent down and captured his bottle of shampoo in your hands. Without saying anything, you began to run the woodsy-smelling liquid through his hair, marveling at the way the familiar scent took over your entire body, throwing you into a bout of strong nostalgia. 

 “Missed you… so much.” You found yourself saying after having helped him rinse out the lathered subs. 

 Chan’s eyes softened exponentially then, as they seemed to glow in the liquid-gold candlelight of the bathroom. He looked down at you with a peaceful smile curling the corners of his mouth. “I missed you too… every single second, of every single day.” He reached out, hands fitting around either of your hips and pulling you flush to his bare body. 

 He bent down into you, pressing soft kiss after soft kiss to your mouth. You smiled between every one of them, closing your eyes at the way that his mouth pressed against yours in a perfect, exquisite kind of way. 

 Then suddenly, he was gripping you tight, hoisting you up into the air and pressing your back into the cool tile of the shower wall. You glanced up at him, eyes widened slightly in surprise at his quick movement. 

 “You gonna let me take care of you, baby girl?” He muttered against your lips, mouth beginning to pull away from yours and trail around your face with faint pecks. 

 “Take care how?” You asked, breath hitching in the middle of your chest. A moan threatened to spill out of you from the way that his plump lips gently pressed around your face. 

 Chan’s fingers kneaded at the skin of your waist, with the scalding water falling around you, slicking your bodies together. Leaning into you with a sly smirk plastered on his face, his tongue darted out, tracing around the line of your lips, before prying your mouth open and tasting you. He tasted of warm, comforting black coffee and sugary toffee- just like how you had remembered. 

 When you broke apart to catch your breaths, Chan finally spoke, “I was thinking about…” You felt his hands move away from your hips as the words came out, his fingers sinking into the plushness of your ass. “My cock in your beautiful, aching pussy… haven’t felt you in a while, been missing it all…” 

 Your eyes widened at his confession. The two of you hadn’t been intimate with each other in… well, with you being so caught up with work and everything, you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you had given in to your deepest wants and needs. 

 But all at once, you already knew the answer to his unspoken question. Because yes- you had been thinking about your boyfriend in that way, for a long time. Without even realizing it. In the dead of night, when you were so very exhausted from work, you had imagined him and his radiant face and dark eyes, as he slid his hands down your body, loving you in all the right places. 

 “Yes, please… yes.” You begged in a breathy tone. Chan’s mouth was on yours after that, kissing and licking, as he wrapped both of your legs around his torso and peeled you away from the shower’s wall. 

 Words didn’t need to be spoken between the two of you, as he moved to turn the water off with you tightly grasped in his arms. And in no time at all, he had the both of you dried off and had blown out the many candles in the bathroom. Soon, he was leading you to your bed with its messy sheets and duvet comforter.

 Your boyfriend laid you atop the cushy foam mattress, helping to gently rest your head atop a pillow. ��Where do you want me, love?” He asked, lips pulling away from yours, a hot string of saliva stretching between the two of you. 

 You swallowed down a moan at the absence of his plush mouth against yours, feeling the rising desire inside of you pooling in your cheeks with a pink flush. “I-I don’t know, just… just love me.”

 He nodded slowly, lips beginning to trail down the column of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your clavicle, before sucking on the tender flesh there. “Now that, I can surely do.” He finally answered as he continued to move atop you. He had you encased underneath him, with either of his strong legs resting on the sides of your hips. 

 Chan dipped his mouth close to one of your exposed breasts, kissing the puckered skin there. One of his hands grasped onto your waist, while the other played with your nipple that wasn’t currently getting kissed by him. 

 “C-Chan,” you breathed out, squirming underneath your boyfriend at the way that his gaze locked with yours. At the way his eyes flooded with dark, heated desire as his mouth came over your nipple, swiping his tongue across it before taking as much of your breast between his teeth as he could. “Feels so fucking good.” Moaning, you squeezed your eyes shut at the feel of his teeth lightly tugging at you, at the way his fingers were kneading your chest so perfectly. 

 His tongue drew away from you then, a smirk brightening his sharp features. “You feel so amazing, baby girl,” he whispered, as his mouth came over to meet your other mound - the one that wasn’t coated in a thick helping of wetness from him. “Love you so much… fucking adore your tits.”

 Your mouth fell open as he began to taste you once more, pushing and pulling against your hardened nub. The moans escaped from that deep place inside of you, and you pressed your legs together as the slick slowly dripped out of you. 

 After he was seemingly satisfied with riling you up just from the breast worship alone, Chan yanked his mouth away from your chest and found your lips once more in a passionate kiss. You could feel him press in between your legs, his growing length just straining to feel some type of friction - some kind of release. 

 “Do you want me to stretch you ou-” He began in a quiet, deep voice, but was quickly stopped by the way that you suddenly gripped onto his muscular forearms, nails digging into the skin there. 

 “No- no more foreplay,” you managed to ground out through clenched teeth. You hadn’t realized how needy you were for him, but all at once, you were aching to feel him inside of you - and his continuing with the foreplay by stretching you out with his fingers wasn’t going to cut at that moment. You needed him right then, and you couldn’t wait any longer. “Just want you inside of me already.” 

 His eyes flashed with surprise at your confession. The two of you hadn’t been intimate in quite a long time, so your words must’ve thrown him for one. After all, he always wanted to make you feel good and safe - and jumping right into the fucking usually wasn’t his style. He liked to take things nice and slow. Keep it sensual and loving, all at once. 

 “Okay, then I guess I’ll-”

 “Wanna ride you, babe.” You practically whined, peering up at him with big eyes. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, as you desperately clawed at the skin of his arms. Your core was dripping so much, you felt it run down your legs and moisten the sheets underneath you. You hadn't been so needy in... you couldn't even remember when. But all you knew was that it had been a long time since you were so desperate for his cock.  

 And immediately at your words, you felt Chan harden between you. A sardonic smile widened his mouth. And without saying anything else, he was tightly holding onto you and moving on the bed so that you were the one on top. With your knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips, you nestled down into his lap, feeling Chan’s legs come up and bend behind you to offer some support. 

 “Take it easy, yeah?” He said in that gravelly voice of his that only came out in the bedroom. His hands came up to grab at your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there as you rose slightly to position yourself over him. “Just take things slow… don’t want my baby girl to get hurt.” Your boyfriend was worried that something would go wrong since the two of you hadn’t done such a thing in quite a while. But you were fucking dripping with want, so you knew that it would be an easy slip. 

 Nevertheless, instinct took over your entire body, as you lined yourself up to his red, swollen head that was dripping with precum. Then, in a single breath, you were sliding down the length of him ever so slowly, savouring the way that he filled you up so completely. 

 You leaned down into him, palms resting against his warm, muscular chest. “Fuck- I love you so much,” you groaned out, biting down hard on your bottom lip as you began to rise up and down on him, loving the way that he helped your movements with the strong grip he had on your waist. 

 “Missed you,” he grunted out, meeting you halfway and thrusting up into you. The tip of him hit that sensitive, gooey spot deep inside of you, and you all but melted on top of him, clutching at the sweat-slick skin of his pecs. “Missed this- cock buried in your lovely, tight pussy.” 

 Throwing your head back, with your eyes screwed tightly shut, you let out a string of moans. Your hips met together with every other breath you took, as you felt him stretch out your walls in a flawless, languid kind of way. “C-Chan, I… I-” You failed to find the words on your tongue when you distantly felt one of his hands leave your hips, traveling to the front of you. 

 In no time at all, he had a finger pressed against you, finding your tender clit and rubbing delicate circles there. This spurred on your movements, as you straddled his waist and rode his cock in a rabid kind of heat- like it was the first time you had done it. “That’s right, baby girl…use me, like you’ve always wanted to. Use my cock for your very own pleasure…” He grunted out, pressing down harder on the swollen bundle of nerves between your widened, trembling legs. 

 His cock reached so far up into you, it felt like you were about to break from the sheer size and speed of it all. Your legs began to shudder with fatigue, and your hands desperately clutched at his shoulders as you felt your release rising from deep within you. 

 “Chan… I’m gonna-” You gasped, eyes suddenly wide open as you stared down at him. You took in the sight of his face - at the way his chocolate-brown locks curled around his damp forehead, at the way his red lips were kiss swollen and his dark pupils were blown wide with so much lust. 

 He continued to circle a finger around your enflamed clit, veiny arms helping to raise you up and down on his length, his free hand digging into the flesh at your hip. “That’s right, baby girl… want to use my cock to cum? Do it. I wanna see your pretty, little cunt quiver and shake and milk me fully.” 

 His filthy words were the thing that finally tipped you over the edge, throwing you across the side of the cliff. Your entire body began to vibrate with your release, and you squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling of fire lighting down your backbone. The blood rushed through your veins, the slick pouring out of you as Chan continue to thrust up into you as he chased his high. 

 You screamed out his name again and again, along with a string of curses. You had stopped moving atop him, letting his large hands control your entire body and move you across his hardened cock. Letting him manhandle your body to his liking like you were his very own sex doll. He had said you could use him, and you had. But in the end, he was the one to use you. In your blissed, fuck-out state, you distantly felt him stiffen up inside of you, just as he found his release as well. 

 Still gripping onto his proud shoulders, your nails scraped across his skin there as you felt his heat erupt within you, coating your walls in sticky whiteness. The entire time he came down from his high, Chan was spewing words of praise- all directed at you. “Love you so much- love your body, your mind, your soul…” He continued to say over and over again in that strained, husky voice of his. 

 And finally, when the shaking in your limbs stopped and your heart had begun to beat at a normal pace once more, you relaxed into your boyfriend, resting your head against his bare chest. His softened cock was still nestled between your walls, but you didn’t care- if anything, it only made the cuddling more intimate. 

 He wrapped two arms around your torso, holding you close to him and leaving light pecks atop your messy head of hair. “You know, I still haven’t forgotten about your work predicament…” He started in a quiet tone, making you look up at him with a frown. “But for now, let’s just forget about it and focus on sleeping, yeah?” 

 You felt the tiny smile erupt across your face before you were even registering what was going on. Leaning up into him, you pressed a gentle kiss against his puffy-pink mouth. “Honestly, I like the sound of that,” you giggled, carding a few fingers through his curly locks. “But, shouldn’t we like, get cleaned up?” You rose an eyebrow his way, surprised that he wasn’t wanting to get up and clean everything, since he usually liked to do so right after sex. Keep things sanitary and healthy, and all that jazz...

 Chan shook his head slowly, “Nah, that shit can wait until later… but for now, I just wanna fall asleep with my baby girl in my arms.” He nestled his nose against yours, before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. 

 “Okay… me too.” You finally admitted before you rested your head against his chest once more. He still made no move to pull out of you, and you didn’t mind. The cockwarming was something the two of you hadn’t done in a long time, and it felt familiar and nice and loving, so you weren’t complaining one bit. 

 The two of you lay there in silence, his Chan running gentle fingers through your hair, and you listening to the steady beat of his heart just underneath your ears. 

 And even though you hadn’t found the answers to your predicament yet, 

 And the future was still looking rather uncertain, 

 Right then, you could care less about the worries of everything else in your life. 

 Because for once in what felt like a very long time, you were feeling whole again. 

 Happy, 

 Content, 

 And most of all… loved. 

 All because the man lying underneath you, 

 Because of the one who had quickly slipped into a deep sleep, 

 Because of the one who was still slick with sweat and wetness from your lovemaking, 

 Because he had helped you through it all. 

 Your very own boyfriend Chan had helped to make you feel better - to take away all of your anxiety and the uncertain thoughts running through your head. 

And all at once, as you lay there on top of his warm, comforting chest, 

 As the shadows of sleep threatened to take over you from the corners of your vision, 

 You realized that your headache had disappeared. 

 As soon as Chan had his arms around you earlier, while underneath the hot water of the shower, the throbbing in your head dissipated. 

 Because that’s how it had always been; with him right by your side, hugging and kissing and loving all of the pain away. 

 Fin. 

taglist: want to be added onto my taglist so that you always get notified when i post a new work? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can simply send me a msg and request to be added that way~

© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[strawberry-cowmilk]

Hey!! I hope its okay to request this (I saw ur bio and it said its open haha)

Can you do Dateables dropping there child in a day care for the first time? Thank you!

Hi! If my bio says requests are open, then the requests are open, so don't worry! Also it's about time I made the side character version of the brothers dropping their child off. I hope you like it!

the side characters dropping their child off at daycare for the first time

-> side characters x mc (without luke)

mc's gender is not mentioned, but it is implied they have given birth. I'll be tagging this as gn!mc, let me know if that needs changing. Not proof read

a/n: the children are the same as from my (character) as a father series, and let's say they're around 2 years old here

content warnings: implied past pregnancy

-----

Diavolo

diavolo has important matters to attend to as the heir to the throne, but sometimes he neglects his duties to play with his son

it's sweet, but it's becoming a problem

that's why barbatos suggests to sign your son up for a daycare

diavolo does not like the idea at first, but it's important your son goes outside and makes friends instead of staying in the castle the whole time, so he agrees

you were always pro-daycare, so it's settled then

the first time diavolo takes his son there, he is more emotional than the child

he gets down to match his level, fighting tears, and gives him a speech like 'honey, I know this is hard, and seems scary, but it's good for you, it's only for a little bit-'

the little boy eventually gets bored of it and gives his dad a hug before running to the other kids

barbatos, who was waiting outside, has to comfort diavolo in the car

Barbatos

even though diavolo gives him many days off to play with his daughter, barbatos gets restless when he isn't working

so, he still works on his free days, and his daughter likes to stay close to him as he does so

eventually you told barbatos it might not be best for your child to always sit on the floor next to him as he is cleaning some couch, and he agrees with you

so, you come to the conclusion to drop her off at daycare, that way she gets some social contact

when barbatos goes to drop his daughter off, she refuses to go inside the building

he's standing outside of the entrance with his child clinging to his leg, trying to convince her it will be fun until she was willing to try it

however, after barbatos arrived home again, one of the daycare workers called him

they told him his child really hates it there, so he goes to pick her up

after that day, barbatos actually uses his free days as intended

Simeon

when your daughter was born, you knew you had to let her go to daycare at some point

you started to doubt that once you saw how good simeon was with his child, and luke was a nice older brother figure, you thought they won't be willing to let her go

but you were wrong, simeon told you daycare might be good one night

after all, the little girl needs to socialise with people that aren't her parents, luke or solomon

your daughter didn't like the idea, because she didn't want to be in a room full of strangers

so, simeon thought he would stay by her side for a day, that way she'll see there's no harm in daycare

little did he know the workers would kick him out of the classroom

both simeon and his daughter were not pleased with that, so simeon calls leviathan to teach him how to leave a one star review of google

Solomon

let's face it, you or simeon can't wake up early to make breakfast and lunch for your son to prevent solomon from cooking up some biohazard every day

that was one of the factors that made you decide you needed to discuss daycare with solomon

you did not know solomon was thinking about the option too, so it's settled then

the day before your son had to go, solomon taught him some handy spells to protect him from any potential bullies

the day he had to go, your child didn't really feel scared, so that's good

remember the spells though? your son may or may not have set something on fire because he did not want to nap when the workers told him to

now you and solomon are banned from that daycare

you both still had to lecture your son about why what he did was bad, but deep down you two think it was the funniest stunt ever

[cowboypossume]

Promises

For @kotlcpridemonth2023. Rings

Based *loosely* on this post by @camelspit || Read below the cut

“Can I ask you something?” Fitz didn’t stop stroking Sophie’s hair, but his fingers felt more hesitant now. 

She grinned up at him from her spot on the living room's floor. “You just did.” 

“Haha. Very funny,” He rolled his eyes and she smiled wider. “But seriously?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

His fingers fully stopped and he put them in his lap. “Have you given any more thought about what I told you?”

“To be honest,” She turned her body so her face would rest partly on his legs and partly on the couch. “I don’t think I can like you in the way you like me. I don’t think I feel what you do.” 

“I'm not following.” 

Sophie wished she brought her gloves so she could hold his hand or touch him, use any means of contact to sooth how restless he became suddenly.

“Do you want me to explain?” He nodded, looking down at her hand, now touching his leg covered by a jacket’s sleeve. “If you’re comfortable with it.”

Something was going through his head, and she didn’t know how to figure it out. 

“So,” she got up off the floor and tucked herself on the opposite end of the couch. “When you said you liked me like that,” both their faces got hot, “What did you hope to get out of it? What was your desired outcome?”

“Can I say I don’t fully know?” He took a decorative pillow and set it on his lap. 

“You can, but that makes it harder for me to explain. Especially because I know that isn’t true.” 

“Um.” He busied his fingers with the strings hanging off the pillow. “I guess I wanted you to feel the same. I was hoping we’d become like a couple or something? Kiss, go on dates, ect. Like I wanted -want- was something like that?”

Sophie forced herself to breathe trying not to back out of the conversation now. 

Fitz was looking at her so kindly, and that made the words harder. Especially because she’d never said them before, not aloud. Not to someone so important. 

“What you just described: the want for a romantic relationship, the want to be a couple, She folded her knees into her chest, closing her eyes and letting her oily hair fall across her shins. “I’ve never had that urge. For the longest time I was sure that everyone felt that way; no one wanted to actually date anyone. I thought dating was just a word people used for deep admiration and? Friends? I didn’t know there were different feelings involved.”

“Because you’ve never felt them.” Fitz didn’t look up from the pillow.

“I’ve never felt them.” She forced herself to hold his gaze. “I don’t think I ever will.” 

Fitz stayed still for a while. Sophie felt herself getting smaller on the couch. She didn’t really know what to do or say to ease the tension. “I’m sorr-”

Fitz cut her off. “Can I hug you?” 

“Um. Okay?”

He put his arms around her, an old couch barely making it comfortable. She felt safe as his hair tickled her nose and lavender filled her senses.

“Thank you for trusting me with that. I don't think that could have been easy.” His breath was warm, warmer than his body. She felt comfortable. Moreso than she would guessed possible.

“Yea well,” She hid behind her hair and pulled away. “You probably would have found out one way or another. It’s like, not a big thing or whatever.”

He ruffled her bangs in disagreement. “Can I give you something?” 

“Can you stop asking cryptic questions?

He went over to his bag and started digging around. “So I was gonna give you this under a different pretense, but I think this might be better.”

He pulled out a dark blue bag cinched around the top, tossing it to her. 

She opened it to a pair of rings with little eyes peeking over the center. Both green with a little face staring back at her. “What is this?” 

“Calm your worry,” He sat near her on the floor. “They’re not cognate rings, I don’t think I’m ready for that, yet.” 

Sophie spun the smaller one around in her hand. “Then what is it?” 

“A promise.” He put up his pinky. “I, Fitzroy Avery Vacker, promise that I’ll always try with you. I’m not going to leave because things go a little askew or I don’t fully understand where you’re coming from. I’ll always at least try to understand you."

He took the other ring from the bag and placed it on his pinky, never letting his hand lower. 

Sophie stared at it for a second, then hesitantly leaned down and laced her pinky in his. “Are you ok?”

He thought for a second, fully considering his feelings. “Still good.” “Okay.” Sophie took a deep breath. “Then I, Sophie Foster, promise to keep you in the loop. If I’m scared of the future or your reaction, you’ll still know where I am and what I’m feeling. I won’t block you out because of my feelings.”

She took what’d fallen into her lap and unlocked their hands for a second to put it on her pinky. 

“So are we good?” Fitz looked at their joint fingers and smiled.

Sophie followed his gaze, then leaned down and kissed his forehead lightly, fingers brushing a scar beneath his eyebrows. “Yeah. We’re good.”

[chaoticgouda]

For Killian (Ship Edition):

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticeable? what changes when they're in love?

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn't around?

💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

💗 GROWING HEART

It wouldn't be noticable at first, no. Killian is the sort who prefers to keep their weaker, more human emotions at bay if possible. If killing those feelings doesn't work, then keeping them close to his chest is the next best option. They would likely interpret such stirrings in their heart as curiosity or fascination, and would study their person of interest as closely-yet-clinically as possible.

As time passes and the feelings only intensify, though, they would uh... Not handle it very well haha. It soon devolves into an obsession, a need to understand this person, and why they're so special. A desire to have them. To hold them. To keep them all to himself, selfishly, and to ensure that they never lose the one fascinating mortal who has made his withered heart beat again.

💙 BLUE HEART

Don't be silly. How can you miss someone when they're never allowed to be apart from you?

The best solution to loneliness and longing, in Killian's eyes, is to ensure that it never occurs in the first place. After centuries of being alone, of never allowing such sentimentality to seize them, they're loath to risk it happening. He knows he's weaker now, heart made fleshy and vulnerable. So the solution to that is to ensure that their lover always remains in sight, regardless of their own feelings on the matter.

When Killian is apart from his s/o, then they'll act restless. Veins bubbling with an energy verging on frantic. Pacing and plotting and promising to take out anyone who even looks at their beloved strangely. It's best not to keep him separated for too long, for everyone's sake.

💚 GREEN HEART

Tender touches, gentle conversation, softly-teasing banter, kisses, blood... Anything that allows them to indulge in their lover. Their scent, touch, voice. Killian tries to hide his addictive tendencies, but they definitely come to the forefront when it comes to time with his beloved.

💖 SPARKLING HEART

The kind of showy that strives to appear subtle, but clearly isn't. ~Sneaky~ touches that still catch your attention, like an arm pulling them closer to his side. A smile that curves just a little too much at the edges to be anything but smug, eyes burning darkly with greed and entitlement as they stare you down in a silent challenge. He secretly relishes any chance to further cement that their lover is his.

💌 LOVE LETTER

I feel Killian might actually be surprised to recieve a love letter? He would try to hide such suprise though -they despise being clearly caught off guard. They would probably compensate for their surprise and attempt to assert control by being a little critical of the note, actually - ~Gently~ offering constructive criticism about a metaphor that could have been worded more effectively, correcting any grammar errors, things like that. But he would still treasure it, would definitely keep them somewhere safe and pore over them while feeling more sentimental and tender.

I don't see Killian frequently sitting down to put pen to paper. He prefers giving praise and attention verbally, purring it into their ear or whispering it against their skin. Pieces of poetry, perhaps, as an occasional gift. They would write letters if forced to be apart from their lover for any length of time, but this would be very rare and peppered with tender words to compensate for the distance.

[marvus-xoloto]

What about a lazy day with Mallek and s/o headcanons? What do they get up to? Also I’m so happy to see you seem so enthusiastic rn! I know you’ve been pretty down lately so this put a smile on my face today :)

(sorry it's taking me so long to get to these!! life happened out of nowhere and i'm busy, but I promise I will answer all of them in due time. HC rq's / discussions are always open, as long as you're alright with a bit of a wait <3)

Aw thank you :') ngl I've been up and down in general; doing my best to ride the highs as far as possible <3

Mallek Lazy Day HCs

Honestly, I don't think Mallek is very good at the "lazy" part. Speaking not only as a long time appreciater of time bound charaters, but also as a time bound myself: it's an aspect that tends to keep you moving (esp for rouges of time, which is my hc for Mallek. I see this as one aspect of his restlessness and impulsivity).

So: netflix and chill WILL turn into netflix and tinker, and also leave the room for that one thing that he can cannabalize into this project, and oh hey did he ever show you his new PC? Just arrived, want to savor the peelies with him? Oh you want to relax? Want to go down to his secret place? Maybe he should bring his can of spray paint, just in case....

I think it would actually be good for him to learn to slow down and learn how to like. Relax. Not make every little thing into some grand scheme.

A good place to start with him would be people watching I think! This is a secret headcanon I have (but have written, secretly, into all of my fics): I think Mallek is probably a pretty terrible judge of character when the person is more than text on a screen. I mean, he thought MSPAR of all people was a robot.

Besides the fact that this might be a good place for Mallek to start learning how to slow down, I think it would also be good for him to get outside of his head a bit. I see Mallek as a somewhat egocentric character (not as in like, self centered or narcissistic; simply lacking a little empathy and world view/experience), so listning to MSPAR spin tales of these trolls might inspire him to think a little bit harder as other trolls as less of a backdrop for his world and more like. You know. Individual people. Which will be a great skill for him to have as an information specialist.

On that note: I like the idea of Mallek having some kind of spy/reconaissance sort of roll once he leaves to fight in the troll space war. Imagine him figuring people out in his head while imagining a conversation with you to really get deep in it and ask himself the right questions, thinking back to that first time you went people watching together :') hurts so good.

This does make television a lot less interesting for him, though. You win some you lose some.

Idk how this became a Mallek character study, I am so sorry. It's just who I am as a person.

He does like to squeeze you super hard when he hugs/holds you: it's a lusus habit and he finds it comforting. It's once of the few times he'll initiate a slower, lazier hang out session: arms squeezing the life out of you, his head leaned on yours, cozy as hell.

Anyway, that's the best I can think of! Sorry it's not super relevant to your prompt haha ^^'

[deputyash]

all Odds for John x Dove? :3

This only took me a million years to finish. I have no idea why haha. Thanks so much for sending them in! It was very fun despite my time haha XD

1. How did they first kiss?

So this is an interesting one haha. It’s also changed a bit over the different drafts. Technically, their first kiss was when Dove was recovering from her wounds. John pulls her into Dr. Lindsey’s room to “talk” to her, but he just kisses her haha. Dove’s like WTF at first but then someone comes into the room and so she does the “oh I guess I have to kiss you again to keep your identity hidden” haha.

But the first mutual, non-interrupted kiss is later on. I’m still reworking the details, but it's basically a swim/pseudo-Cleansing that turns into an actual love confession and kiss. This was actually the original first kiss (that I actually got art for too! haha) and I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it completely.

3. How did the relationship start?

Partially depends on which storyline, but for the current version of their main story, it really starts after Dove decides to spare John instead of killing him. There was probably a little bit of back and forth bantering/flirting beforehand but things don’t really get going until Dove has John hidden away in the bunker she uses as a hideout. John experiences stronger attraction/ romantic feelings quicker than Dove does, but he is afraid of those feelings so he pushes her away a lot before he makes a mistake that makes him realize he likes her a lot more than he thought.

5. Do they have roommates?

No, there’s no active storylines that I have where they have roommates. I guess you could count survivors in a New Dawn storyline, but not even in that universe do they stick around in one place long enough to have anything like roommates.

7. Do they have kids?

Yes, their daughter Phoebe eventually exists in pretty much every storyline, and sometimes they have a (currently unnamed) son. 

9. Do they act differently in public and at home?

Hmm, depends on the storyline, but I would say yes to a certain extent. In the main storyline, Dove is already fairly reserved in public anyways, so when it comes to her complicated and eventual romantic relationship with John, she does everything she can to keep it under wraps. She’s a lot more open and bold when it's just the two of them in private. Of course John is a herald in the main storyline so he’s got the whole courageous leader thing going on externally, but in private he’s a lot more vulnerable (sometimes haha).

11. Sleeping habits?

In any story set during or post-Hope County, their sleeping habits are all over the place. They both have their share of nightmares and restlessness, but when they’re together it's not always so bad. They cuddle, talk, comfort each other as needed, etc. until they can finally go back to sleep.

Dove is usually an early riser, but she can be convinced to stay in bed for a little longer (or a lot longer if John is keeping her trapped in his arms haha). I think John could be an early riser too, but I also see him indulging in being lazy and staying in bed more often too. When Dove is ready to get up, she’ll sometimes lure John away from bed to either the shower or the kitchen haha.

13. Favorite sexual activity?

Usually I’d pass these, but I’m just tired enough that I’m gonna include it haha. I'm keeping it quite basic though. As always I’m being influenced by fluffy stuff, so I’m going to say one of their favorite activities is passionate, intimate sex. Anything that has them close together, lots of kisses, lovebites, can’t keep their hands off of each other, etc.

15. What habits of the other drives them crazy?

For some reason I had trouble thinking of particular habits haha. This is what I came up with, but not sure how well it answers the question haha.

John can be a workaholic and tends to stress himself out more than necessary. Dove does her best to remind him to take breaks and that not everything needs to be perfect. 

Dove can be a people pleaser and often goes out of her way to help someone which is fine until it starts to take a toll on her. John has to remind her that she doesn’t have to fix everything all the time and she doesn’t have to please everyone. 

Basically they both stress over things until it hurts them and both of them have to remind each other to take time for themselves. 

17. Most trivial thing they fight over?

Honestly, I don’t know. Haha. This one was kind of tricky for me. I feel like Dove wouldn’t put in the effort to argue over something minor haha. I could maybe see John complaining about something trivial like having pets in the house or something.

19. Who does most of the cleaning?

I always imagine them splitting the work. Either they agree on who does what that day/week or they both work together to get everything cleaned and put away. 

21. Who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working?

They don’t have a landlord, but if taken generally, I definitely think John would be the first one to call an electrician/plumber/etc to come fix an issue at the house. 

23. Who steals the blankets?

John for sure haha. He seems like he might move around a lot and get all wrapped up in the blankets.

25. Who does the groceries?

Hmm, like the chores/cleaning I can see them trading off on who goes grocery shopping. They both know what the other likes already and for random odds and ends, they put together a list so they always have a system going.

27. Who leaves their stuff lying everywhere?

I wouldn’t say that either of them leaves stuff everywhere, but I can see John leaving things like his paperwork out on his desk. I also had a recurring theme of John losing his coat several times in some of my oneshot stories, so there’s that haha.

29. What do their cupboards or shelves look like?

I imagine they would be pretty organized. They would always keep the same things in each cabinet/shelf, so they always know where to find everything. 

31. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Well, depending on the storyline, they already spend a lot of time away from each other haha, so they would probably be preoccupied with whatever work or responsibilities they’ve been given. When they aren’t working and they start to miss each other, they would definitely try to reach out whether it's calling/radio/text/finding time to go see the other (depending on the verse). They would try to find time to connect with each other at least for a little while. I definitely think John would be the first to realize how much he misses Dove and would try to call her.

33. How do they refer to the other in public? How do other people refer to each other? (i.e. “my partner”, “ask your father”, ”dad and papa”, ”how’s your wife?”, etc)

This question is set up strangely and slightly confusing (or maybe I’m just tired haha). I guess if they are referring to their relationship to someone else it would be boyfriend/girlfriend or husband/wife, and in relation to their kids it would be mom/dad. 

If we’re talking about how they refer to each other when they are together, they mostly stick to their names, but nicknames/pet names may pop up too. John probably uses pet names more often: Dovie, darling, dear, my love, baby, dear wife (if someone is making him jealous). Dove may occasionally use: my love, baby, and she has (semi-)jokingly used ~dear husband~ when she is trying to tease him (she has done it even before they were married).

35. How often do they go on dates?

In any story where they aren’t actively fighting each other or someone else, they try to go on dates regularly. Maybe once a week, maybe a couple times a week, maybe every other week, it depends on how busy they are. 

37. Do they celebrate birthdays, valentine’s day, anniversaries?

Yes, I can definitely see them celebrating special events and holidays together. They would both try to plan something out for the big ones like birthdays and anniversaries. I can see them both trying to make it a surprise, but they both try to do that so it ends up with them both trying to sneak around at the same time and probably being found out haha. They eventually just start planning them together XD

39. How do they spend Christmas and New year’s (or equivalent family gatherings)?

Depends on the storyline. A lot of the time they just celebrate with the two of them (and with their kids if they have them), sometimes they go to see Dove’s family, and in certain AUs they celebrate with John’s siblings.

41. What would they do if the other one was hurt?

No matter how they got hurt, both of them would immediately stop what they were doing to take care of the other. They would patch them up, ask them what happened, and to be more careful.

If it was someone else who hurt them, they would both be furious. John would probably murder them haha. (Herald!Dove would also). Dove may not immediately murder someone but she would definitely not forgive them or let them go without repercussions.

43. Do they know how the other takes their coffee/tea?

Yes, definitely. They’re both attentive and would quickly learn what the other likes.

45. Do they friend/follow each other on facebook/tumblr/livejournal/skype/etc?

I’ve never really thought about this haha. If they had social media they probably would. In the No Cult or Atlanta AUs, they would be more likely to do this.

47. How do they make up after a fight? They would definitely leave each other alone for a while until they both cool down. Then depending on what kind of argument it was, they would either apologize or just move on without saying much more about it. I imagine they would both end up in the same room at some point and one of them finally caves and apologizes and/or they end up spending some time together until things go back to normal. John would maybe *ahem* try to seduce his way to a resolution after a fight. Might work unless the fight was something serious and it really upset Dove/both of them.

[yuichi-ro]

i have such geto brainrot and i thought I would share for today!! English isn’t my first language so I apologize for any mistakes <3

let’s talk about babysitter geto who’s in love with his boss. he took the job as a way to make extra cash and put his children skills to use. the interview was over the phone so he didn’t know what you look like until his first day after school. he had heart eyes as soon as you opened the door and invited him in. he was in love from that day forward.

he loved going to work, it was a highlight of his day. it didn’t matter when you needed him, he just wanted to be near you. although he hated seeing you go on dates, he liked comforting you afterward when they failed. geto would never forget the time you hugged him for the first time, he obsessed over it for days. he remembered the warmth that came when you wrapped your arms around his neck, his own wrapping around your waist and slightly up your back but the moment that made it memorable, was when you pulled back to cup his face. His face was certainly red at that point. you praised him for his kind heart and how great he was overall. the seductive tone was already too much but your praise was what caused his cock to become alive.

im sorry but i can’t write smut to save my life haha

babysitter!Getou!!! Yes!!! Ugh so much just- *frothing incoherently* -I love this man ok

cw: fem!Reader, milf!Reader, age gap, manipulative!Getou, stealing, male + female masturbation, smuttiness askbox is open

babysitter!Getou with the charm of an individual who could land a much nicer job than this. And with his skills on top of it? You always urge him to work at something else instead of for a silly single mom like yourself. But you're always met with that charming smile and a "But then I wouldn't love coming to work then would I?" You always laugh it off nonchalantly and remind him that's the charm that's gonna get him in trouble one of these days.

he doesn't even mind if he gets himself in trouble, babysitter!Getou is so enamored with you from day one that he can't think of anything but wanting to stay. Day and night. If only you needed a live in nanny so he could stay indefinitely...

but he sees you go on dates. And sees them fall through just as quickly. You're such a catch and these dunces are at such a high turn overrate that surely you wouldn't notice him tampering with the dates that actually go well...that's to say he wants none of them to go well.

thus the string of unworthy men continue. Never making it past the front door much to his glee. babysitter!Getou always smiling politely when your dates drop you off. Hearing them say they had a wonderful night but for some reason they never call back. He forgets what threats cross over to which suitors. Does it really matter? As long as they don't come back he'll tell any lie in the book to keep you and your kids safe from such unsavory men.

babysitter!Getou who comforts you on the twelfth failed date. Faux in his confusion right alongside you. Why would they end the dinner early? You're so right these men just seem so put off by a single mom. Why it must be a sign from a higher being if all these dates keep falling through...Getou rubs your back lamenting with the straightest poker face as he knows why your date ended early. Because he's the cause of all of them falling through. But each time, you keep getting closer and closer for his comfort.

the first night you ask him to sleep over, his hearts pounding. Even if nothing happens. And he sleeps on the couch. Doesn't matter he's finally staying. With you in the room next door it's hard for him to not feel restless...knowing where you disrobe, where you take your shower and soak in the tub...all behind closed doors that he so vividly can see as he lays in the dark in your living room. Making it inevitable to find his hands down his slacks.

muffling his own moans with his teeth sunk into the fleshiest part of his hand. Pumping his cock to the thought of you in the tub. Soaking, warm bath water running over your tits and droplets dribbling down them. How long he's been staring at your tits these past few months of working. And how desperately he's contained himself until he got back home to do anything. But now he's in your home. Edging himself closer and closer to an orgasm. Savoring each swipe of his fingers over his shaft as Getou dreams about what your tits might feel wrapped around his cock. Soft plushness that he fantasizes about burying his face in and painting with his cum. But like every time, the second he thinks about your beautiful face painted in his ropes of milky cum it's enough to loose it. Making a mess all over his belly and muffling his own moans to no avail as he cums.

in the post haze of his orgasm always leads Getou to realize he's louder than he meant to be. Quick to save his hide and his job when he hears your bedroom door open just a crack. Falsifying his sleep when he quickly turns towards the back of your couch. Cum dripping down his abs and hand still wrapped around his cock. At least now it's hidden under the blanket you lent him. Hoping you won't notice the smell or the fact he isn't really sleeping.

and maybe you don't or maybe you do. Doesn't really matter as he lays totally still even upon hearing your footsteps come closer. Until they stop at the edge of the couch. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck raise when you mutter his name. He stays silent just this one time for fear of being caught. When you don't say anymore he feels your touch along the side of his face. Pushing your fingertips through the thick black strands and off his neck a little. Frozen in his place as you stroke down his neck and he tries his damndest to keep you from discovering his mess.

it's fleeting and over as soon as it began. Your footsteps carry back into the room and your door clicks behind you. Leaving him in the clear for a second of reprieve. Getou's still too curious though about such an odd reaction. With his own cum drying on his stomach and hand wiped on his thigh. The man can't help but get up and skirt closer to your bedroom door. Pressing an ear to the thin door just to hear the most angelic moan he's ever heard. Fully aware of what you're doing in there. A string of broken up moans and then the deal that seals it. His name.

babysitter!Getou can't help but stuff his hand back down his pants. Even though he just came a handful of minutes ago. Already aching with what he's hearing. If picturing you relaxing in the tub was enough. Suddenly adding your wonderful moans to his imagination sent him to heaven. Jerking off outside your closed door to the sounds of you clearly masturbating. Forever thinking of how many more dates he'll have to ruin until he can finally be on the otherside of the door.

[devildomdisaster]

I'm sending this assuming that requests are open. If not, feel free to ignore this, haha

Can I request the bros reacting to mc getting annoyed and worried during a thunderstorm, and when they ask why mc answers with something akin to "my dog is terrified of thunderstorms, so it's become instinct to find him and comfort him"?

I've been slow to answer requests lately. Sorry, this took so long.

Lucifer:

Your constant pacing is annoying him. Lucifer can’t figure out why you are so agitated, and your pacing is starting to distract him from the paperwork he has to have done by morning. “It’s just a thunderstorm, Mc please.”

You whip around to glare at him so quickly he is taken aback.

Nothing in your expression says fear, and to be honest, Lucifer is relieved you don’t seem to be afraid of the storm. He hadn’t handled the situation well and he wouldn’t ever want you to think he cares so little for you that he would brush aside your fears as if they meant nothing.

Now that he is thinking clearly again he changes tactics.

“Mc, my dear, what has got you so upset?”

“My dog hates thunder, and I always have to comfort him during a storm. He’s not here. But I can’t help but worry. And it’s just instinct now I guess.

Lucifer seriously considers bringing your dog to the Devildom.

But the trouble that would get him into, the paperwork, Diavolo, the chance that some sort of harm could come to your pet dissuades him from that idea.

“I’m sorry mc.” and he really does look distressed that he can’t help you.

Until he realizes that Cerberus isn’t the biggest fan of thunder either. Cerberus’s room is more protected from the noise of the storm but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like attention and comfort during a storm.

Lucifer takes your hand and silently leads you down to Cerberus.

You are understandably reluctant at first but Lucifer assures you that Cerberus is completely docile while he is around.

Soon you are snuggled up against the three-headed dog and Lucifer is finishing his work on the ground next to you.

Mammon:

Mammon bluntly asks you what has you so annoyed

“Oi human, what’s got ya all antsy?”

The way he says it makes you want to fight him just a little.

But he’s a demon and there’s no way a human could scare him with a little glare. Well normally your glare might scare him just a bit, but the look in your eyes now is tempered by the worry that is so clear on your face.

He drags you to his room and has you explain exactly why you are so worried.

Mammon asks you all about your dog.

He somehow distracts you by getting you to tell him all kinds of cute and funny stories about your dog.

You end up sitting with Mammon for hours, music playing in the background, almost completely forgetting about the storm.

He definitely wants to meet your dog now.

He’ll even go to Lucifer to get permission to visit your home in the human realm so you can both see your dog.

Levi:

You are distracting him from his gaming and it takes Levi a second to process that you might need his comfort.

“If you are going to be a distracting normie, could you at least not pace in front of the screen Mc?”

You apologetically move away from the screen towards the door.

“W-Wait! I didn’t mean you should leave! What’s wrong?”

You hesitate not sure if you want to tell him now, but then you spot Henry in his fishbowl.

“My dog hates thunder,” you say refusing to look at Levi and staring at the fishbowl instead “I usually have to go find him when a storm starts. But he’s not here, and I dunno… I think it’s just like instinct to comfort him but I cant so…”

Levi gets it.

He has so much love for his pets. Even the ones that grew into giant demon-eating monsters that don’t even recognize him.

He’d do almost anything for them.

You can’t go comfort your dog, but maybe Levi can comfort you?

He’ll try, even if he is blushy and nervous.

You’ll spend the storm exchanging stories about your pets and watching animes that are eerily similar to your situation. Like ‘My demon dog hates storms but I’m in the human realm and now the storms make me anxious because I can’t help but worry about him.’ and ‘My crush is worried about her pets and I almost messed everything up, but don’t worry I think I can help!’

Satan:

It’s no secret this demon is more of a cat lover.

But he still cares about your dog because he cares about you.

Blunt demon 2.0

Straight up asks you about your behavior as soon as you start acting weird. Although he is much more polite about it than Mammon.

“Mc, is there something you want to talk about? You seem distressed.”

“No!” you snap “Yes? Maybe? I don’t know Satan. This storm is driving me crazy! Every fiber of my being tells me I need to go find him. But he’s not here and I can’t help but worry and I know you mean well but there is nothing you can do to fix this.”

“Oh, well I don’t know if I would say there is nothing I can do. But who is he, kitten?” he asks gently, trying to understand

“My dog.”

You stare at him as he goes rummaging through the piles on one of his bookcases. After several minutes he turns triumphantly to you holding an ornamental metal hand mirror out to you.

It looks beyond old, and it’s surprisingly heavy and sturdy when he hands it to you.

“Just think of your dog and look in the mirror.”

“Like beauty and the beast?” you joke.

“Where do you think the ‘beast got the mirror in the first place?” Satan asks.

“I-What? You mean you-”

Satan’s eyes glint “That’s a story for another time, but yes I gave the ‘beast’ his magic mirror. But the fairy tales butchered the actual story,” He sighs.

You look in the mirror as instructed and see your dog with your family, tale wagging, dashing across a grassy field after a ball.

You smile “Thank you, Satan. This really helps.”

“Anytime Mc”

Asmo:

Asmo is telling you about his latest Devilgram post and how his followers “simply loved seeing the picture of you on the Ferris wheel with him,” when the first clap of thunder rolls through the air above the house of lamentation.

When you jump up at the sound Asmo thinks you’re afraid of the storm.

He carefully places the top to the nail polish he was using back on the bottle before focusing on you. “Darling, are you ok?”

You shake your head, pacing to the door then back to your vacated seat on Asmo’s bed.

“Mc darling can you tell me what’s wrong?” Asmo analyses your expression quickly, he’s looking for fear but doesn’t find any.

“It’s the storm,” you murmur “My dog can’t stand thunder and I’m used to going to find him when a storm starts. But I can’t really do that here so I’m stuck not knowing what to do with myself.”

“Oh Mc, that’s absolutely adorable!”

You glare half-heartedly at the demon.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Asmo pouts “I can’t help but react when you act so sweet.” he hums in thought for a moment.

“Is there someone taking care of him now?”

You nod “Yes, but I still worry sometimes.”

“I know darling. How about we go ask Lucifer if you can go for a visit tomorrow?”

You perk up at the thought and Asmo grins “Good, then we’ll do that first thing tomorrow morning. But for now, do you think we can distract you with a movie and some facemasks?”

Beel:

Beel doesn’t want to intrude, but he can’t help it when your mood starts affecting him.

He can’t enjoy the snacks he just bought when you seem so upset.

“Mc… will you tell me how I can help you?”

The sincerity of his question shocks you for a moment.

You blink up at him, feeling heat blooming in your cheeks.

“I’m sorry Beel, I didn’t mean to ruin your snacks”

“It’s ok Mc, you're more important.”

“It’s just that storms bother me. My dog hates them and when I can’t be there to comfort him I get… well like this.”

Beel nods and asks if you’d like to do something to take your mind off the storm.

“I don’t really know if I can just forget about the storm, you know?”

“That’s ok, how about we make some comfort foods then?”

Beel has you choose some music to play in hope of concealing the sound of thunder and you end up talking about your dog and cooking your favorite foods.

Beel is content helping out even if you aren't in the best of moods as long as he can help cheer you up just a bit.

Belphie:

Belphie is already annoyed that the thunder is keeping him from sleeping.

So your mood fits right in with his.

You can both be anxious/ annoyed little terrors together.

The rest of the brothers are giving you both plenty of space.

Somehow having someone in a similar mood as your own is helpful.

You can both be a little snappy without the other being offended or impatient.

You probably end up in a pile of pillows and blankets with Belphie. You're both a little restless but eventually, the comfort of the blankets and Belphie’s warmth calm you.

He’ll make sure you’re ok, with gently probing questions to find out what caused your mood.

He can’t exactly help your situation, after all, he doesn’t have the power to bring your dog to the Devildom and he doubts Lucifer would let him anyways.

But he can, and will let you talk if you want, and if not he’ll support you in silence.

He likes it best when you are happy but he knows there are problems he can’t solve.

He’ll ask if you’d like to dream about being home with your dog and if so he’ll influence your dreams.

[kendall-coded]

Hi! I would love to read your autistic!Derek Hale headcannons if you'd like to share them?

hi omg of course!! I actually don't think I have talked much about this online. this is just me using what I know about Derek (mainly his trauma alongside my personal read of his character) and examining how that works in tandem with his behaviors in a way that can signal him as being autistic. so! just putting that out there as a blanket statement for people who may disagree or find that this doesn’t align with how they view him! this is just my opinion and my read of him because he is my comfort character.

- he has difficulty regulating how he feels. he feels a lot or he feels nothing and he really struggles with his emotions and his connection to them. not to say that he doesn't feel things intensely, he just has trouble outwardly expressing them or forming them into rational reactions/behaviors. I feel like derek has a lot of internal detachment when it comes to how he feels because I think he has a very unhealthy or even oversimplified idea of what weakness is (and how he displays it) so as a result he just...has trouble interpreting his own feelings which then bleeds over into confusion about how others are feeling. I envision this mostly in how he handles his pack and how he talks with Stiles, since I commonly see others perceive him as mean or unnecessarily indifferent and keep true to that when they write him.

- he finds it diffcult to hold conversations + his tone and word choice sometimes doesn't really represent what he is actually trying to convey. I think Derek is (especially in fanon) characterized as "less is more" when it comes to talking. as well as almost universally accepted in fic as unable to adequately express his romantic interest (usually in Stiles) which he kicks himself over, always digging himself an unintentional hole due to miscommunication. he just struggles with inflection and reading social cues, so he has these like..."default" constructs in his head that are just not correct haha.

- adding onto the previous one, I see him as being very very intelligent, especially in niche fields of interest (subcategories of art, obscure history, classic foreign literature, etc). but not particularly in an "academic" way, moreso as something that he is passionate about or holds close to the chest (I usually attribute this to be some sort of interest inherited from or created to remember his parents and family). so I personally think he engages more in open discussion about these things with Stiles (and his betas) because it makes me feel Soft okay. autistic and reserved werewolf finding a happy balance with his adhd info dumping boyfriend means everything to me.

- bad about eye contact just because I say so and that is how I like him.

- this may be a stretch but I see him religiously working out/upkeeping a strict workout routine, which plays into my overarching headcanon. not to veer too far off but I view Derek as having an unhealthy relationship with his own physical conventional attractiveness (considering his trauma ):) so it becomes one of the only things he feels like he has control over. so he turns his "sex appeal" into something he has a say in, sticking to a hard routine and essentially turning himself into something he is okay with others perceiving. I feel like any disturbance in this would send him reeling or really, deeply upset him even if he never outwardly said anything. I think it is an outlet for his own restlessness and the things that he allows to build up because he isn't sure how to get them out. he likes the repetetiveness of it too, something that can remain constant for him and ulitmately becomes unusally comforting.

- staying in his burned out home. c'mon. sort of interplays with the last one. he doesn't like things changing, comfort comes from the things he knows. this is why he constanly reverts to anger (his anchor) even though it can be destructive, and stays in his old home rather than finding other places to go (I don't have much to say by the way of the trains station though lolol). while it may be sad, I’d like to think he found some comfort in the act of staying there, even if we do think it would be a heavy and inescapable reminder of his tragedy.

- too broad to completely touch on but all of this can also fall under my personal umbrella of thought that being a werewolf is a metaphor for autism. a small piece of this that’s related to lycanthropy in general is sensory overload, being able to intensely experience heightened sensory things that others often cannot (smell/sound etc.)

[penrose-quinn]

Green Light | Part Four

Shinichiro chuckled. “It is though, isn't it? Would you have come to my funeral?”

You frowned, but you humored him anyway. “I'd even buy you flowers and a pack of cigarettes. Then I'll visit you every month until I get sick of looking at your damn tombstone. How 'bout that?” 

“You're so depressing.” 

pairing: shinichiro sano/gn!reader

content tags: road trips. childhood friends. angst and hurt/comfort. feelings realization. fluff. idiots to lovers. old friends trying to reconnect but are being dumbasses about it. they don't deserve the friends to lovers tag because they're stupid and pining. mentions of nudity. 

a/n: now i get a moment where i can properly say fuck you to canon haha. but please don't take this too seriously. just have fun with me on this.

m.list ❁ read on ao3

You couldn't remember Shinichiro fall asleep this peacefully.

There were vague recollections of him lolling between a light nap or being in a daze, but nothing deeper than that, and the more vivid ones were when he's knocked out cold, restless from the aching heap of his body. Something broken inside, something bruised; he used to cage into himself so much that even seeing him breathe almost looked painful.

There wasn't a time he hadn't been awake first before everyone. Even if there was, you'd likely forgotten it over the odd familiarity you had with the sound of his footfalls after he'd just gotten up. Careful, not as noiseless as Wakasa's, but steady and a little clumsy like a heartbeat, though you'd rethink about it again with a gentle tilt of your lips, describing it more as considerate.

What's amusing really was that Shin wasn't a morning person. He was quick to move around at an early hour, but he'd do it slouched, grumbling under his breath with a face anyone would mistake for a tired scowl.

Never seen him look so pissed, was how Benkei had put it, followed after a jab among their group that he looked more like a delinquent that way or The Commander's resting bitch face, as Takeomi had dubbed it.

He'd be making a crude remark about it back then, but he's actually the most sympathetic. Eldest siblings just get it, or so he said.

Then Shinichiro made a soft grunt, which you’d like believe was an affirmation more than anything.  

You assumed he'd be the kind of person that drooled in his sleep, though it's so off-putting how he could be so still with a rhythm to his breathing. It doesn’t quite count as snoring, though there's a heave to it that's close to a sigh and you thought he must be tired.

It easily gripped you, wanting to lay him down on a proper bed than for him to pass out on the car seat. Maybe, we can stop at a hotel?

You'd like to ask first, but from another glance, he's probably better off deep in his dreams.

The both of you were in a city none of you had heard of before.

Koriyama had the air of undisturbed mundanity; that small, meek place in everyone's childhood just before packing up and leaving to live somewhere far and bustling and raucous from what you've only known all of your life; that place where you'd find yourself returning back to after so long, like the space between soft sheets or a mother's cradle: familiar, warm.

Like how the sun was against his skin. The bite of the morning chill brought back the urge in him to have a smoke, though he was sulkily chewing on a mint gum because you had to comment on his breath with little remorse, and that there was something about the fresh air in the park at this hour that he didn't want to be tainted with nicotine.

It hadn't been the most scenic view, though Shinichiro was dully captivated by how the lake shimmered in pale, listless flecks, a raft of ducks bobbing on the water, while the people peered over their shoulders to glance at them or the bed of tulips. He thought about the little girl pointing at the flowers before meeting his gaze, which he responded with a wave and she waved back cheerily, her mother nodding at him behind her.

Then he thought about you buying him coffee after he refused to talk to you for earlier, snapping his gum, and what you gave him wasn’t his usual blend – mocha, milky sweet – to retaliate back for not speaking up sooner.

The both of you ate the leftover club sandwiches and some konbini fried chicken quietly on the bench, and he slowed midchew when his eyes lingered on the missing button on the top row of your flannel shirt. He didn’t mention it when you handed him a napkin and he murmured his thanks.

Shinichiro thought about overindulgence too. That this was too good to be true and he couldn't help but wonder if he was asleep, about to be ripped back to the grinding, or if he was still in a coma, or perhaps if he was dead.

He hadn't told anyone about you.

“You got any secrets?”

“Wouldn't you want to know.”

“I told you mine.”

“Well,” Shinichiro debated, about to take a sip of his coffee. “You'd make fun of me.”

“I always make fun of you,” you said. “What is it? You shit your pants or something?”

“Nice try.”

His lips bent into a smirk before drinking down the rest of his coffee. The warmth seeped in, and he could feel it spread from his chest. He'd still rather have black, though. 

Then you said his name, and he said yours back, amused of your persistence.

You retorted something about him getting off to being so mysterious. He let out a giggle, jittery from the caffeine intake, and it's probably the kind of uncharming sound that could ward off women.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile settled on your mouth, finding him funny. He liked how crooked it was.

"It isn't really a secret," he confessed, scratching the back of his neck. "Everyone sort of knows."

"Well, I don't," was your reply.

Shinichiro relented when he brushed back the side of his head to reveal an incision lining his scalp. “I got surgery. About two years ago," he started, and you went quiet. "It's a funny story, actually. It happened at the shop. Manjiro's friends broke in to steal my bike, could you believe that? Then I forgot to dodge when one of 'em hit me with a—"

Then your fingers brushed through his hair, lingering on the incision.

“How bad was it?”

“Got a concussion, bled out a lot, but it isn't anything new." Shinichiro mulled over all the blows in the head he had received in his youth, brash and foolish. He could've even laughed it off if you didn't have that rueful look. "Well, not for me.”

“So you could've died,” you interrupted him.

“Hey.” His hands flew to grab your shoulders. Although he'd been as taken aback as you for acting out like this, he reassured you, calmer, “I'm okay.”

“O-okay," you repeated, letting it all sink into mild acceptance after he let you go, and then the reiteration had more weight to it this time, to yourself than to him: "Okay. Shin, but those kids . . .”

“They're just twelve." Shinichiro could still remember the dread on their faces, perhaps saw himself in them from one last glimpse; the fear and mortification of not being able to take back what had been done. "Confused and a bit scared. They didn't know any better yet.”

“And Mikey?” you asked with a hint of concern.

His brother took it the hardest.

“Forgave them.”

“Because you did," you told him this as if you were there when the two boys apologized to him at the time, awfully contrite and bowed to their waists. He didn't have the heart to hate them for what happened, but he never found peace over the thought of leaving everyone the way he almost did.

"I wish I was with you," you whispered.

"You're here," Shinichiro said, offering a smile. "Don't trouble yourself over it too much."

You sighed under your breath. "You're not a delinquent anymore. How could you still get into so much trouble then?"

Ah, there it is. He missed that, the way you scolded him.

"How could you even forget to dodge? Can't believe a twelve-year-old almost got you like that. What a dumb way to die.”

Shinichiro chuckled. “It is though, isn't it? Would you have come to my funeral?”

You frowned, but you humored him anyway. “I'd even buy you flowers and a pack of cigarettes. Then I'll visit you every month until I get sick of looking at your damn tombstone. How 'bout that?”

“You're so depressing.”

“You brought it up. I'd rather not go through that at all.”

“Not gonna happen when we're not done with this trip yet.”

“Speaking of which, what about your shop?”

Shinichiro didn’t like rushing an order due this week, but he considered to just pull an all-nighter. “I'm free for two more days. What about you?”

“Still trying to figure it all out,” you mused, eyes wandering up to the blank sky. “I don't really have any plans.”

You weren't always a delinquent.

You'd even argue that you didn't pursue it all the way through when a turning point came about in your second year of high school. The gang got bigger. At some point, you knew Shin didn't need you there anymore, and to an extent so did everyone else.

Then it dawned on you that you were left with two more years to contemplate what kind of life you wanted to lead in the future. The pursuit, however, turned out to be halfhearted more than anything.

Perhaps, you listened to your mother after all. There was a resigned part of you that always knew that you weren't going to be happy. That kind of miserable end where the line bordered between boredom and jaded contentment. If one can't be the other, then at least it put food on the table.

Society was most likely to accept you as one of its automatons, and in the rush hour, it squeezed you with the others into this narrow compartment of an expectation in partaking a role that would define you for the rest of your life.

Violence wasn't a path you’d ever like to pursue either. Your brother shaped that out for you a long time ago. You weren't grateful for whatever shame he gave you and your family for his decision, though there were times you'd like to think he taught you a lesson as older siblings did for their younger ones. You didn't have to repeat the same mistakes.

You weren't Seisaku.

Shinichiro knew that, and for once, you didn't feel like you had to try so hard redeeming yourself for a crime you never even committed.

Though people still looked warily at you.

You figured it must’ve been the tattoo, but they’d been doing that way before you even had one on your leg.

You got it around the time you found the stigma around tattoos as something lame when Benkei wore them around his chest and arms like the markings of a king. Ever since he led you to a tattoo parlor upon your request, you’d never regret having the dragon inked on your skin.

However, because of that, it’d taken an hour for the two of you to find a public bathhouse with looser restrictions.

It was Shin’s idea.

I hadn’t been in a sento for awhile, he claimed after mirthfully recounting about the times he soaked in one with the others before a meeting. You never joined them in those times.

The truth was you never really grew out of your discomfort with nudity. It didn’t matter who you’d been with or not, though there was something about laying yourself bare in an open, shared space that frightened you. What if they saw something that they shouldn’t? What if they picked you apart for it?

You’d always been left to collect your pieces for so long, so you resented the thought that you couldn’t even stop clutching tight on your towel like a lifeline. Made the grip on the shower head white-knuckled, burned yourself over the water than the timid appraisals on your body, scrubbed your skin raw until you could scrape away every inch of the tension that coiled inside you like a viper.

There's an assortment of disorienting limbs in your periphery. There must be something in the air too, thick and humid. The kind of heat that's oppressive to the head, red-tipped from the ears. Everything's close to a boiling point. That's it.

Breathe. In and out. 

You washed again and again, staring at the tiles that splintered your reflection in quarters, and one part of you there hoped you'd drown from a glance, more than the hot pool that you hadn't even dipped in. Wouldn't. Ah.

You agreed to come here because you really wanted him to enjoy the trip, though after turning off the shower knob and walking out, you realized you weren’t all that brave after all.  

Shinichiro found you in the locker room later on, refreshed and clothed in a new white-and-teal shirt and the same jeans with a towel over his shoulders.

You would've fretted over the thought if he saw you barrel in here when you left the bath, but you're already slumped on one of the wooden long seats from the corner of the room, somber and haphazardly dressed, with your knapsack pressed to your side. The key was still jammed in your shared locker.

“You done already?” Shinichiro tilted his head at you. He didn't have to study your face when he could just sense it. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Slipped,” was your excuse. It's frustrating that you didn't even attempt to make it convincing. 

“You slipped,” he said slowly.

Don’t look at me.

Then a towel was dropped over your head.

"Jeez, your hair's still wet."

Shinichiro began to dry it off for you, gently wringing the strands from the ends, shagging your hair some more when they curtained your face in tangled clumps. He remarked about you growing your hair out and you told him you'd get it cut off some other time.

"It's nice on you, I mean," Shinichiro clarified after pushing aside the hair that fell over your eyes. He smiled. “There you are.”

You reached up to hold his wrist, and then his gaze in this close, dizzying angle where you could map out the things you would never stop noticing about him, like the tiny mole on the lobe of his left ear and how he’d stare at you like he’d known you forever and how he's still somehow him, even though he's a bit different from what you remembered.

The eucalyptus of his shampoo and the way the chain necklace loosely slipped under his collar, urged to be trailed after by a glance; you tried not to get too distracted with them, swallowing the same air as him.

“You're being too good to me today,” you told him before finally letting him go. “Sorry. I'm being weird.”

“It's all right.” Shinichiro sat next to you, and although he’d been reluctant at first, he rested his hand over yours. “What is it?”

When he called out your name, you sighed.

“I've just been thinking an awful lot,” you admitted, hesitant again after a breath, though you felt his thumb run over the edges of your knuckles, smoothing out the words in a pensive mutter. “Old things, small things . . . then there're ones that keep me up all night.”

“Why would you think about that?”

“Not sure.”

You did, though. You hadn’t slept for two days, and you couldn’t take your meds without breaking down at the idea of him finding out, and you just left your nephew’s funeral and everything else behind in desperate search of escape. It's such a dismal thought, redundant even, but you wished you just knew what you should do. 

You wished you could be more honest and happier. If not for yourself, then maybe for him.

“I'm probably messed-up.”

“You're not.” Shinichiro gave your hand a squeeze. “Besides I'm more messed-up than you.”

You sent him an incredulous look and he tried to grin wider. He looked a little dumb.

“Think that's why we're friends?”

“C'mon, there's more to it than just being messed-up,” he said with a huff, padding to the locker to tug out his bag and rummage inside the contents. “Turn around. I'll brush your hair.”

You raised a brow at him when he plucked out a comb. “I can do that myself, Shin.”

Shinichiro lifted up a shrug. “I'm being extra good to you.”

“Nah, you're just being extra.”

“I won't brush your hair for that.”

“Whatever.”

You turned your back for him, and Shinichiro began to sweep back the hair from your shoulders. A light graze from the scalp, and then you’d lean back a bit from the careful manner he’d run the teeth of the comb through a lock. It was oddly pleasant, disentangling all the anxious knots little by little, and you found yourself not caring what anyone would’ve thought if they saw the both of you. He probably never did.

Settling into this comfortable silence with him, you couldn’t help but reminisce that things ended up like this because he'd resort to doing the first thing that came into his mind in calming you down. Sometimes it worked and it didn't on others. Regardless, it always threw you off.

You thought he’s a weirdo for whatever he did, but you didn’t stop him.

It reminded you of that time wherein talking to you had become so useless that he dove straight to the kitchen and attempted to make you cup noodle fried rice, which was the grossest thing you had ever eaten and it still held up to this day.

You were glad that a toddler Mikey didn't get to have any of it when the both of you got sick after finishing the rest of the plate. Although he was glum about it, you grimaced at the mess you still had to clean up and you had to drag him to the kitchen sink right after, helping him wash the dishes before his grandfather returned back. One of you had splashed the other's face with tap water. You couldn't remember who between the two of you, but you felt better.

Now, what Shinichiro did was less impulsive and accidental and more thoughtful in the gesture. He was gentler too. It wasn't like he wasn't before, but he'd been more awkward about it. There were times he’d be so out of it and it made him a bit insensitive, even when his actions spoke louder.

Still, it's unfair to expect a lot in a kid, but that's the thing. The both of you were just kids. Somehow, you had each other, but you hoped he'd never been lonely around you.

“Hey, Shin,” you tried. “Let me brush your hair too, all right?”

A pause, then he made a soft, blithe noise. “Sure.”

When it's his turn, the broad of his back in front of you, it startled you how tall he was.

It wasn't always like that. You had fonder memories when you'd outgrown him in height during your childhood.

Shinichiro had been such a small boy with small hands that reached for impossible things – later in life, he did with Tokyo at his palm – and you, however, cared less for whatever strange thing he blathered on about when he couldn't even reach your neck the way you towered his, ruffling the top of his head just because you could.

But then he'd catch up to you one day.

Maybe, it'd been around the time his little brother was born, and you figured there must've been a perfect metaphor there when he kept surpassing you throughout the following years, just when the slopes of his shoulders had curved into an anchor, carrying the weight of so many against his back; burdens, dreams, and all.

He's so reliable that it bent his spine a little. It's inspiring and sad at the same time.

Shin was going to be an old man in his mid-twenties.

He didn't give a damn about being called old, but what really hit a nerve was the comment on his bad posture. He claimed it was just a result from long, painstaking days disassembling and reassembling motorbikes for a living and you claimed it's likely an early sign of osteoporosis.

Which was a shame because he was tall and handsome, and he's ruining himself with a slouch.

Your sister would've beaten the shit out of him, being such a staunch believer of good posture.

In her place, you'd do.

Your hands crept on the lean planes of his shoulders, thumbs prodding on the back of his clavicles, and you'd straighten him out like that, even though he was being stubborn about it. 

Arms crossed, Shinichiro would only let you because he must've known that you were going to be stubborn too. You were doing him a big favor after all. 

Still.

The slight hitch of his breath and the pleasant warmth of his skin radiating through his shirt. 

You thought of distractions, and these ones endured that you're almost tempted to hold him again just to understand the feeling, but you knew better not to linger. 

“You still do this for Mikey?” you asked behind him, starting to comb his damp hair; straight and abiding after each stroke. Nothing like before, brittle from egregious amounts of gel. Grinning to yourself, you'd make quick work out of him.

“Ah, not as much anymore. I’ve been replaced.” Shinichiro sounded wistful, though you could also trace out the smile in his voice. “But he’s well taken care of by his friend.”

You wavered, face scrunching up in disbelief. “. . . Keisuke?”

He chuckled. “I can’t imagine. No, Ken. Oh, you haven’t met him,” then he drawled out a hum, contemplating an answer for a moment. “Tall kid, but he’s a good one. Looks after Manjiro a lot. I owe it to him.”

“That’s nice. You adopted another kid.”

“Shut up,” Shinichiro retorted before going on a tangent about his sister. “Emma’s got a crush on him.”

“Cute,” you crooned, and he nodded in agreement, rambling on about the other boy's feelings being mutual. “Ah, then are they dating—”

“Not till she’s fifteen,” he cut in, resolute.

“C’mon, man." Then you tugged a lock after finishing with a final brush of the comb. "When’s your first date, huh.”

Shinichiro absentmindedly raked back the hair sticking on his forehead through his hand. “Uh, fifteen?”

“Thirteen,” you corrected.

“I swear, I was older. You remember that?”

“Yeah, I gave you pointers and all,” you'd argue that you did most of the work: his social cues, his manner of dress, what flowers to buy, what to do and not to do. You even forced him to rehearse how to properly compliment someone without being an absolute creep about it. “Yet you still failed miserably.” 

“When were you such an expert in dates?”

“Expert? Unlike you, I just know how to not embarrass myself in front of a girl.”

Shinichiro was a bit miffed when it still touched on a sore spot.

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend then?”

“Hah. Why don’t you?”

He’s acting like you’re dead to him, and you’re laughing so much that it brightly bounced off the walls in ways that made the fluorescent lights of the room pale in comparison.

“Is that really so bad?” you mocked after you’re met with a withering glare.

Shinichiro scoffed, but then it fell down more like a sigh from this incessant part of him, one he hadn’t realized was there at all. He looked at you. 

Is it really?

part three ❁ m.list ❁ part five

[mingying]

[spoilers] hospital playlist s2 ep 11; ikjun/songhwa

I can’t believe this finally happened. And it happened in arguably the best ways possible for us IkSong shippers. As usual, this post is just basically my own thoughts and opinion of the episode and my interpretation of things - feel free to disagree, and I hope you enjoy reading this musing of mine!

22 years later, finally they found each other again <3

TL;DR: Everything happens for a reason and we have finally reached the rainbow end <3

Let’s begin by addressing the ER scene, but before that, I would like to point out that since Ep 10, Songhwa has been shown to be somewhat forgetful and a klutz - in Ep 10, she was searching for her socks and insisted that she wore them for her rounds. She also seemed to have forgotten to take off her surgical cap until Seonbin pointed it out to her.

In Ep 11, the episode starts off with Songhwa leaving her handbag in Ikjun’s office, and subsequently her handphone, followed by her handbag in the car again. This is not a dementia arc, guys (haha) but I genuinely think that this is her mind being occupied by her newly realised feelings for Ikjun that her normally composed self had started to crumble (and that’s entirely ok!). Another interpretation of this scene could be that unintentionally and subconsciously, she just wanted to remain in the hospital knowing Ikjun may return to collect his gift later.

Can I also point out her sixth sense in this scene? When she peered out of her window and heard the sound of ambulance, followed immediately by Dr Bong calling, she looked disturbed. Normally, she would have answered her calls immediately without hesitation but this time you could tell that she frowned and waited for maybe 2 seconds before answering Dr Bong. Well, never messed with a woman’s intuition I guess!

The ER Scene. Gosh. I actually have a lot of things to say about this. I know some people do not like this trope and that it is a typical trigger for characters to realise their feelings. But, I’d have to say that ShinLee did not intend for this scene to be a trigger of Songhwa realising that she likes Ikjun.

Because she already knows and had realised, somewhere around Ep 8-9 but more obviously 9, that she does like him as a man (all over again). If anything, this ER scene was meant to give Songhwa that one last push to confess, otherwise she may end up regretting not to. Another reason why I felt this scene was necessary was that Songhwa has been too comfortable in Ikjun’s constant presence by her side -- perhaps she has been wanting to confess but still lack the courage to and she didn’t think she needed to act on it rightaway because Ikjun would always be there by her side.

Gosh, the way she rushed to Ikjun and didn’t even hear Dr Bong trying to report to her that he actually wasn’t in such a terrible state. The way she slipped her hand in his and was so gentle in her questions - you can really just tell that she was trying her best not to crumble.

(side note: Jeon Mido, your acting was truly stellar during this scene. That suppressed professionalism vs personal feelings. I really felt her worry and regret in this entire scene. I loved it so much)

Now, why do I firmly believe that Songhwa already intends to confess to Ikjun eventually? Other than the fact that Songhwa herself confirmed during her confession that “I should have told you that I liked you”, it’s because of the Gift that she has given him for his birthday. It’s a cap, and initially we don’t think much of it until the flashback sequence showed and we realised that, a cap was what 99z Songhwa wanted to give to Ikjun but never did because he had turned her down for dinner and lied that he has a blind date.

Present day Songhwa gifting Ikjun a cap can be interpreted as her having let go of the hurt he had caused her in the past and that she was willing to try, again.

Interestingly, I’d like to also point out that the 99z flashback in this episode was truly necessary for us to understand Songhwa’s aversion to ‘Sad Sea’ and why she has rejected Ikjun in the first episode. 99z Songhwa didn’t give up when Ikjun stood her up for her birthday but mustered the courage to confess to him - she tried twice too, asking if he really has to go on that blind date that evening and couldn’t he go another time? Ikjun, in that scene, was playing Sad Sea. 

I would like to apologise to Ep 7 Songhwa because I had been frustrated with her then, but now that everything has been rolled out beautifully, I do not blame her at all for her hesitancy and year long passiveness. Ikjun kinda deserved it after breaking her heart twice (HA!) and remember this shot of Ikjun in Ep 7? 

I now interpret this scene as him realising that he knew Songhwa’s reasons of rejecting him. Because there was no way he didn’t know that Songhwa had liked him in the 99z, and he was perhaps regretting turning her down for dinner that day during his birthday. He knew he had a chance with her then but blew it, and that is perhaps why he never faltered in making Songhwa happy now. Not that he expects anything in return, but perhaps he wanted to make up for the indirect hurt he had caused her.

Bab Meokja had been something initiated by Songhwa back then. And now, it is a treat he gives himself -- I really do think that is the reason why he keeps asking Songhwa out for meals in the present time, because Ikjun probably wanted to indrectly make up for what happened in 99z.

Let’s move on to another great scene! The card game scene!

For some, it may seem to be a random scene but for me, I saw it in a different way and I’m glad Kfans and some users on Twitter pointed out this theory as well. 

As you all know, the card game IkSong was playing was “Bluff/Cheat”. Here, you could see that Ikjun could read Songhwa so well that he knows when she would lie. But Songhwa on the other hand, could not read Ikjun as well -- and this is further affirmed by Songhwa’s confession when she said “If your feelings for me haven’t changed,”. This is beautiful because it makes Ikjun’s expression during the confession scene even more sense -- a user on reddit pointed out that his expression at that time wasn’t more of a “omg she likes me after all”, it was more of a “she has realised her feelings for me,” and I think that’s absolutely beautiful. He even nodded subtlely a few times as Songhwa struggled to get her confession out, as if encouraging her and saying “you can do it, just a bit more”. 

Back to the card game - Ikjun even threw down a 9 Hearts - which I believe is a metaphor of his feelings for her, steady and still unwavering. 

(Bonus note: I absolutely love how Iksun caught on to them being lovey dovey at once and Junwan’s expression catching them was HILARIOUS)

On to my next scene which was absolute favourite.

Songhwa had finished a difficult/challenging surgery, and out of excitement (she even skipped omg whipped girlie), she called Ikjun first to convey the good news to him. Her tone here really depicts a difference in how she talks to Ikjun before. This scene alone tells you that Songhwa has pretty much fallen for Ikjun again and I love love love that finally she has someone she would want to immediately call to share her good news with! 

And the best part? Our best boy Lee Ikjun never went to Changwon. Instead, he waited for her for probably hours (it was bright day when they said goodbye, but night when Songhwa returned to her office) and even told her straight that he has to see her before he leaves because of how worried she had been before. Good lord find me a man like Ikjun please? 

image cr: iksongarchives @ twitter

This entire shot, with I Knew I Love playing in the background pretty much hits. It is in this exact moment that Songhwa has probably made up her mind to confess for real, that she wasn’t going to waste another second because I am sooo sure she would have ran to hug him if not because of their status at that moment. I love this scene so much. It is the personification of the lyrics of I Knew I Love, which goes “I called you out of habit today and you answered warmly, you make me the happiest in the whole wide world, I love you so much”.

And finally. 

Finally.

*takes a deep breath*

SONGHWA CONFESSED!!!!!!!!

AND THEY KISSED!!!! UNDER THE RAIN!!! 

The whole directing of this scene, with the slow camera panning into them - Ikjun was restless, probably breaking into cold sweats (he commented it was cold) while Songhwa was nervous and trying to muster enough courage to confess (she commented it was really hot). I held my breath for so long I felt like I was about to faint I swear to god.

Songhwa looked legit terrified that Ikjun was going to reject her man, and it all makes sense why after we got the 99z flashback this episode. 

And Ikjun, he really waited for her cues. Even after she was done confessing, he looked at her and waited for her to look at him back before he went “I’ll give you my answer”. And it was only after Songhwa nodded in fear and anticipation, that he swooped in to kiss her!!!!!

Songhwa definitely also leaned in first before Ikjun pulled her closer. She wanted this just as much as he did and it showed through their first kiss. Gosh I’m still shaking just thinking about how perfect that entire sequence and kiss was. They really went all out for it (yes I believe there was tongue involved) rather than soft and gentle. 22 years of suppressed yearning and feelings really popped out in that kiss alone and I am so blessed to have been a part of their beautiful journey.

And now, with only one episode left, we are finally able to see IkSong as a couple and on dates. I have a feeling Songhwa would be the clingy gf man, judging from the Preview keke. I cannot wait to see the rest of the boys finding out, and for sure, I cannot wait to see how their dynamics would change now as lovers rather than just best friends. I do think their transition would be seamless, only that now, they get to do what other lovers could.

This post is so long but I felt the need to address another matter that I have seen roaming around the internet. Apparently, some people are annoyed that Songhwa was ‘forced to change her mind’ and that we cannot accept her ‘No’ in ep 1. I would humbly and respectfully disagree on this point. Songhwa’s ‘No’ in ep 1 was not a “I don’t like you therefore I am rejecting you”. It was more of a “I do not know how to sort out my feelings yet, and am not ready to revisit the past, so it is best not to tamper with it”. 

Songhwa did not change her mind overnight or weeks. It took her one year and a few months. She has had all that time to weighs her decisions again and properly thought out how she wanted to bring forward her relationship with Ikjun. She was not forced.

She may have said that she liked being single in S1, but she has never been averse to love. In fact, she is always encouraging other people to go for it. I for one, am single and absolutely enjoying it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to ever change my mind if I find someone worthy enough to share my space and happiness with. I like being single now because guys around me are idiots and I’d rather save myself that headache LOL.

Her conscious decision to accept Ikjun now does not and will never invalidate her decision to reject him back then - in fact, it goes to show that as human beings, we constantly undergo character growth and our minds are often changed to suit the present circumstances. 

ShinLee did not portray Songhwa in that light where ‘women needs to say yes if a guy treats her right’. Ikjun did all of those things for her without expecting anything in return. He never once crossed the line and never once forced Songhwa into accepting his love for her. Songhwa said yes because she likes Ikjun and is now ready to move their relationship to that of romantic. It is as simple as that.

And one last point to make is that Songhwa being in a relationship does not in any way invalidate that she is a strong and independent woman. Please do not associate the relationship status of a woman to her being ‘strong/independent’. A woman in a relationship and a woman not being a relationship are still BOTH strong AND independent. Love is a universal element in life, why deprive a person of it simply because she’s portrayed to be a “strong” female character? If that love brings her greater joy and ardent happiness, why stop her from enriching her life further?

Anyway. I digress. 

If you made it until the end of this ridiculously long post, thank you. I hope it was an enjoyable read! Till Ep 12!

[atinymonster]

connected pinkies

ateez 9th member.

jiyu and jiyong catch up after a while, but little did she know it would spark a huge storm.

can you guess what happens next? D;

➴ taglist: @banhmi07, @jiyeons-closet, @jaeminpeachy, @mochibabycakes, @euphoriamingi

➴ masterlist

"Is that him?” 

At the manager’s question, Jiyu followed his gaze to see a familiar, slender male wearing a black bucket hat and a mask waiting in front of the cafe. Her eyes lit up before nodding enthusiastically. 

Chuckling at her restlessness to meet him, the manager unlocked the car door. “Remember, be careful out there!” he quickly reminded.

Ever since ATEEZ’s popularity started to grow, he’s been aware of the many fans that won’t hesitate to approach or crowd them in public. He’s seen it happen to Jiyu once, and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“I will, thank you for driving me!” she smiled before closing the car door. 

Looking left and right to make sure she wasn’t about to be run over by a car, she dashed across the street towards the man. “Jiyong!”

At the sound of his name, the man looked up from his phone and a huge smile broke out onto his face underneath the mask. Opening his arms, he grunted at the impact when Jiyu crashed into his embrace and hugged him back.

“If it isn’t my lovely little sister,” he smiled, taking off her bucket hat and ruffling her hair. “Look we match today,” he teased, gesturing to their matching bucket hats and masks. 

It’s been a while since the last time Jiyu and Jiyong met, considering how busy the both of them had been. If one had a break from their schedules, the other would be busy, making it difficult for them to meet since the new year started. 

“Have you been watching our Kingdom performances?” Jiyu eagerly asked after they settled in a corner booth of the cafe. 

“Of course! I keep up with all of your schedules, you know,” he proudly puffed his chest. “I didn’t know my little sister was so talented, I thought my bones were going to break after watching you dance each time. And I was the one that felt out of breath, too.”

“What, did you cheer for us too hard that you ran out of breath?” she snorted, sipping on the strawberry latte the waiter had brought over a few minutes prior. “You’re really getting old, if that’s the case.”

“I’m only five years older than you, and one year older than Seonghwa and Hongjoong,” he rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but scoff at his sister’s playfulness. He had to admit, he missed it. 

“You know, I send your performance videos to năinai and yéyé.”

Jiyu tensed at the mention of her grandparents back in Guangzhou. Ever since she left to become a trainee, she hasn’t contacted them since, too afraid to hear what they had to say. She’s always carried around the guilt of taking their son away from the world, hence she thought minimizing her contact with them would be better for both parties.

“What do they say?”  she quietly mumbled, twisting the straw around her drink. Whether it be demeaning comments, she decided to accept them.

Contrary to what she was expecting to hear, Jiyong slid his phone across the table towards her. “Here, you can read them yourself.”

Jiyong wouldn’t have her read hurtful comments, she knew that and she trusted him. But it still sent a wave of nervousness when she hesitantly picked up his phone and started scrolling through the messages.

The latest videos Jiyong had sent them were her fancams of both performances from round three of Kingdom. Taking a deep breath, she scrolled down to see her grandparents’ response, bracing herself in case she read something unpleasant.

But there were no demeaning responses. Only responses praising her talents and cheering her on.

[năinai] Little Jiyu is all grown up now

[yéyé] Gosh, look at her energy! It makes my own bones hurt just watching!

[năinai] I wish she’d call us, but I suppose we made it a little awkward for her...

[năinai] Jiyong dear, if you get the chance to, let her know that she’s free to call us anytime

[yéyé] Just keep the time zone in mind, though ;)

[jiyong] Haha! Will do!

She didn’t know how to react upon reading their heartwarming messages. They were, quite honestly, really unexpected for her, and the impact hit harder since it was around the time of her parents’ death anniversary.

“See? They don’t blame you one bit,” Jiyong reassured, reaching over the the table to pat her head. “You can save their numbers onto your phone if you want.”

Silently nodding, she took out her phone and began inputing their numbers, all while feeling a small lump in her throat, realizing that all these years, she had been avoiding them for no apparent reason.

They still loved her, but she was too scared for herself that she didn’t consider how they felt.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, handing him his phone back. “I guess I needed that wake up call.”

Jiyong chuckled before throwing her a knowing smirk. “Just be glad I didn’t send them your dating articles with Sunwoo.”

A small gasp left her lips at the realization. “Ah–”

That’s right. She never told Jiyong about her relationship.

Jiyong had to find out about his sister’s new love life through Dispatch articles, rather than his own sister telling him herself.

Avoiding his smug look, she resorted to looking out the window. His angelic smile looked far from innocent, looking more menacing if anything.

Knowing she was in for a barrage of questions, she made herself comfortable in the booth. “Alright, have at it, but keep it down so we don’t get caught.”

Jiyong wasted no time, leaning forwards on the table with curious eyes before firing off questions at rapid speed.

“How did you meet him?”

“We had a Weekly Idol shoot together back in 2019.”

“Who made the first move?”

“I guess he did...?”

“How long have you two been actually dating?”

“Since our Inception comeback.”

“And why didn’t it cross your mind to tell me?”

Jiyu was at a loss for an answer. “...That’s a good question.”

Jiyong’s face morphed into one of a kicked puppy. “Hey! That’s just mean, how do you forget to tell your own brother?!”

“It slipped my mind since I got so busy with the comeback, and I thought I told you but I guess I didn’t in reality,” she sheepishly answered, scratching the back of her neck.

Leaning back into his seat, he dejectedly crossed his arms like a child throwing a tantrum. “Fine, I guess I’ll forgive you,” he pouted his lips.

“You love me too much,” she sang, giving him her best aegyo performance, but only bursted into laughter when he started cringing.

He faked a gag. “Never do that again for the sake of you and I.”

“I know, that felt terrible,” she couldn’t help but agree.

“Jokes aside, I hope he makes you happy. And if he makes you cry, let me know, you hear?” Jiyong said, his brotherly protectiveness seeping into his tone.

Jiyu nodded with a hearty chuckle. “Yes, yes, I will.”

“But how’s modeling? I swear you got skinnier the last time I saw you,” she frowned upon seeing how baggy and loose his clothes seemed on him. “Are you eating?”

“Funny how you’re the one breaking your back for these performances and you’re worrying about me,” he joked, hoping to ease her worry. “But I’ve been eating my meals, don’t worry. I just went on a diet—”

“What diet? You’re already skin and bones as it is,” she pointed out. She knew being a model was difficult, but she never realized just how much effort it takes for a model to take care of themselves.

And when it comes to ESteem, a branch under SM Entertainment, she knew how strict things were.

“I’ll be okay, Ji, don’t worry!” he smiled, “I should be asking you about your eating and sleeping habits.”

“Seonghwa makes sure I eat at least two meals a day and that I’m in bed as soon as possible, I think I’m more inclined to worry about you.”

An airy and defeated huff sounded from the man. He knew she was right, she had eight people to look after her, while he was out at castings all day and lived by himself. It was a relieving thought—his sister was well-taken care of when he wasn’t around.

“Fair enough,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender, “But seriously, I’m okay. I won’t work myself to exhaustion.”

“Promise?” she stuck her pinky out, a worried pout on her lips.

Jiyong intertwined his pinky with her’s, mumbling his promise with a soft smile.

Too engrossed in their bonding time, little did they know someone had spotted them from across the street while he was on his way to buy drinks for his members as punishment for losing a game of rock-paper-scissors.

And his face and heart fell when he saw the familiar white bracelet on the girl’s wrist, but her pinky was connected with another man’s while she adoringly smiled at him, the man mirroring her expression.