#also anon i want you to know that when i got your ask notif (first rq i got today) i did a little jump and

[always-just-red]

Hi! Hope this finds you well. Saw the request and wanted to ask for a Yandere Sylus with player reader. Like Sylus knows Mc is a player and he is a game character. When mc was gone for too long, Sylus gets impatient.

If you can do it, of course. If no, ignore this. Wish you writing ideas and inspiration

Hi! Hope you're well too, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one, got really stuck with it and wanted to make sure I did it justice-- it was such a cool idea! (Also I know L&D has the microphone feature but I wanted to have fun with the limited communication of the player here, so no it doesn't, actually!! 🥰)

Fourth Wall

Sylus x Player!Reader 🩸

Summary: L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?

Genre: idk really?? real world player x character

Warnings/Additional tags: yandere themes, player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, swearing, mild threat, possessiveness, manipulation, Sylus is a little OOC here (we all know he's a sweetheart really!!)

| Word count: 1.5k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your phone lights up with a notification.

Sylus: Are you in a good mood, sweetie? The weather’s nice, so let’s go out.

It makes you smile, even though you’ve seen it before. You haven’t played Love and Deepspace for two weeks or so, and you’re already thinking about how many dailies you’ve missed— more specifically, how many diamonds you’ll be short of going into the next event. You had a couple thousand saved, you think? It’s probably fine.

The truth is, you don’t really have time for it these days. Escaping reality with fiction is fun, but it’s just that: make believe. Reality’s still waiting for you on the other side, and recently? All that escaping has finally caught up to you. You have a real life. Responsibilities. Yay!

But you are in a good mood, and the weather is nice, so you’ll log in for old time’s sake. Your finger hovers over the app, but something makes you hesitate. You’ve got some emails you should probably get back to, first. Oh— and weren’t you supposed to call your friend, too?

Another notification:

Sylus: Take your time, kitten.

A new one? It’s just text on a screen, but you’re reading it— Sylus’s voice in your head—and you just know it’s dripping sarcasm. Before you have any time to dwell on it, your phone lights up with more notifications.

Sylus: I’m going to count to three.

Cute. He’s not actually going to—

Sylus: One…

Oh.

Sylus: Two…

Really?

Sylus: Three.

Ok.

You tap on the app, weirdly motivated by the time pressure given that it’s coming from a man who doesn’t actually exist. He smirks at you knowingly from the kindled moment you’d set as the loading screen, his crimson eyes playful. You’re not particularly patient either, so your fingers drum along the surface of your desk as you wait, your gaze caught between his and the slowly moving loading bar.

Come on… come on… It finally loads, and you enter the game with another apathetic tap. Sylus stands, waiting— a dark figure framed by the otherwise light and dreamy aesthetics of the Destiny Café. You smile to yourself; it’s just gone lunch, and you half expected to find him sprawled in the usual armchair, fast asleep.

He crosses his arms. “The countdown worked, huh? What are you— five?”

You scoff and give his head a flick. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair as though you’d struck him hard enough to ruffle it. It’s kind of cool that you get some unique dialogue when you’ve not logged in for a while, although… have you missed an update or something? The animation feels smoother. More lifelike, now you think about it.

Sylus stares back at you, his lips playing into a subtle smile. His arms are crossed again and he tilts his head like he’s enjoying your scrutiny. “Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks.

Not really. You zoom in with a practiced sweep of your fingers so you can get a better look at him. His eyes flit downwards, over you— equally shameless— and then he’s meeting your gaze as he steps forward, closing the distance. He can’t see you, but you still can’t bring yourself to look away from him, and you’re not really thinking about the animation anymore.

He lifts a finger to poke at the screen, as if he’s caught you daydreaming and wants you back. You poke him, too: a softer, more affectionate boop on the nose. You can’t help laughing to yourself as his face screws up beneath the touch. This game is getting a little too real.

With a sigh, you zoom out so you can set about collecting your daily log-in rewards. Sylus seems fine— standing idly by as your attention drifts about elsewhere. He knows the drill. He can wait. Speaking of waiting… it’s also been a while since you’ve seen the other guys, and you’re struck by a pang of nostalgic fondness. You might as well say hi while you’re here.

You hit the button to change who you want to meet in the café.

It doesn’t do anything.

Weird. You hit it again. Then again— no change.

Sylus is holding his chin as he regards where your finger aimlessly meets the screen. It’s like he’s looking at… the button? “Oh dear,” he sympathises, “that feature appears to have stopped working.”

You don’t really hear him, honestly. You’ve never had a bug like this, and you’re determined to overcome it with sheer, stubborn persistence. Is it your phone? You test the theory by jabbing Sylus’s chest, and he glances down, apparently feeling it. You try the button again. Then six more times.

Sylus wanders closer to you. “You’re hurting my feelings, sweetie. Am I not enough for you?”

Ok but why isn’t this working? You’re still trying the button; your hope has turned to frenzied disbelief.

“Stop.”

A single syllable, concise as a punch and just as effective. You do stop.

Sylus’s voice is lower. Darker. “Good,” he praises, but he doesn’t sound happy. “Someone’s gotten bolder in their absence, it would seem. I do hope you haven’t forgotten to whom you belong, kitten. Although—” his smile is different than before— “I’d be more than happy to provide a… reminder.”

It’s an innocuous word but not the way he says it. Threats are just intimate promises and he toys with the fact like a crow enamoured by something that catches the light. He’s not going to grow tired of it for a long, long time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, sensing you gawping. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? What all… this is?” He indicates the space around him with a wave of his hand. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised the others still haven’t grasped it.” He reconsiders. Smirks. “I misspoke— I’m not surprised.”

Does he mean the game? The other LIs?  

“Honestly, kitten,” he continues with a tut and a shake of his head, “you’ve been far from a gracious host. I’m not a plaything, you know. Well…” He’s showing teeth with a sneer. “Not the sort you can throw away, anyhow.”

God, are you really being scolded by a video game character for having other responsibilities? The worst part is that you actually feel bad. You do care about him. You wish you could tell him you care about him.

“Are you even listening?” he sighs.

Shit. Yeah. You can’t say anything he would hear— as far as you know— so you give his hand a poke. He casts his gaze downwards, stretches his fingers with a contemplative flex, then raises his hand so it can be nursed by the other. Is he protecting it from you? Or is he protecting you from it?

“If we’re to keep playing this game of ours, I think it only fair we lay down some rules,” he states. “Firstly—” because it isn’t up for debate— “you will come here every day, just like you used to. I have nothing to do, you see, and if you leave me to my own devices I might just have to find a way into that captivating little world of yours. So I can… investigate what’s keeping you from me.”

Investigate. Another innocuous word he wields like a weapon.

“Secondly,” he continues, nodding towards the broken button on your user interface, “you had better stop seeing the others. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and we wouldn’t want to worry about them connecting any dots, now would we? Besides…” He approaches you again, leaning in close. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

Your breath is caught in your throat and you’re so glad you don’t need to speak. You don’t think you could; if you tried to get words out they’d be unintelligible.

“So,” Sylus drawls, filling your silence, “how about it? Still want to play?”

This time it is a question, but only because he knows your answer. You’re struck by a flash of inspiration, and you communicate in one of the few ways you can— navigating the in-game menus until you can get your message across.

There’s a ping. Sylus retrieves his phone from his pocket, and after a moment of scrolling, he smiles. You can’t see his screen, but you know what he’s looking at: a grumpy crow with an animated bead of sweat and a dispassionate gaze to go with it. That it? it asks.

He still looks far too smug, so you beckon him over with a relax time interaction, watching your character’s hand outstretch on your behalf. He steps forward, linking his fingers with yours, and this animation you know. You tug him closer, except… he doesn’t budge.  

His eyes are fixed to where your hands are linked, and he runs a thumb over your skin as though he’s savouring the touch.

Did they change the animation?

“Oh, sweetie,” he sympathises with a click of his tongue. He looks up at you— holds your gaze as he presses a deliberately slow kiss to your wrist. “This is going to be fun.”

[hoshinasblade]

May I request a short drabble (maybe?) on how hoshina would react if he were given flowers :3

this is so cute, thanks anon!

hey guys, im not sure if my blog is back to being ok now because support hasn't replied to me. hopefully you guys see this lol.

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: fluff, established relationship trigger warnings: none, both you and hoshina are very silly individuals who are dating so now the silliness is doubled.

send me more asks here! i have set up a masterlist here!

hoshina soshiro, the best boyfriend in all of japan - his words, not yours - has his notifications on for all your instagram activities.

it all started when you were in the very early stages of dating, and he got upset because in his book, he is supposed to always be the first one to see, heart, and reply to your instagram stories. "that's bare minimum," he proclaimed.

you would be a bit weirded out if he wasn't so adorable.

you would post the dog you saw in your morning run and not more than a few seconds later he would respond with a keyboard smash, telling you that maybe the two of you should also get a dog. you would add a note in your profile and he would reply, making conversation.

"huh", soshiro hummed, his smartphone in his hand. the briefing in the operations room is still going on, yet his attention is on your latest instagram story. there are a few perks to being one of the best defense force officers, and one of them is no one could tell you off for not focusing on the matter at hand.

it's a picture of the front display of the flower shop somewhere in town. he's familiar with the place; he's gotten you something from there a year or two ago for your anniversary. has it been that long? he thought. soshiro knows he can be busy considering his line of work requires him to spend sometimes an entire day on the base. despite that, he makes sure to compensate for lost time and spend most weekends with you. your posting flowers can only mean one thing in his mind, and it is that you want him to get you a bouquet.

which he did.

it was a beautiful bouquet of pink carnations and even pinker gerberas wrapped in blush-colored paper. he annoyed the florist to no end, asking them for a flower arrangement that would signify eternal love.

the weird thing is you already have a bouquet of flowers nestling in your arms when he gets home. confusion overtook him.

"w-what's goin' on?" he asked when you gave him the bouquet. they're sunflowers, fresh and vivid in his eyes.

you were visibly puzzled too when he handed you the very pink collection of flowers he bought.

"i got them for you, what else?" you said in a matter-of-factly tone. "i mean, you'd been working hard these days, i wanted to show my appreciation," you said, fumbling with your thumbs. it didn't matter that you had known the guy biblically, it still flusters you when you do something romantic for him.

soshiro's face was no better. his lips parted, eyes wide, he suddenly turned around, his palms covering his cheeks. "d-don't look at me," he chuckled, suddenly shy.

you gave him a hug from the back, your arms not quite able to embrace him fully. "i got sunflowers because they remind me of you", you said.

soshiro froze, his heart swelling with emotion as he processed your words. sunflowers - the vibrant, sunny blooms that chase toward the light, mirroring his own feelings for you. he smiled, a gentle quirk from the corner of his lips. “have i told you that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?” he asked, bumping his forehead to yours until your noses touched then leaning in for a kiss.

“the best boyfriend to have ever lived just said so," you replied.

[kairiscorner]

I'm the anon talking about that silent treatment. Yeah, it's for our Miguelito. Lol sorry that I forgot to mention him. I'm so sleepy when I put that ask haha.

SLAY !!! as a talkative little shit i LOVE this idea OEKSNSJLAKFIFKWNDNS

not another peep. — miguel o'hara x talkative!reader

original request: Anway, I am thinking about him getting a silent treatment from his talkative and slightly annoying s/o because he lashes out on them and told them to 'shut the fuck up' and they instantly went silent for the whole three days and it's killing him that he doesn't hear their excited voice for couple of days now.

you couldn't help that your pretty little mouth had a lot to say and ramble about–it wasn't your fault that you had so much to say and had a lot of excitement in you that made you want to share everything with everybody–especially your closest friend, miguel o'hara. though, miguel... is not the most patient friend you have–and it showed when he told you in a low whisper, "shut the shock up," and clenched his fist. a small vein popped up on his right temple, and he didn't even look at you when he said that. you knew miguel wasn't the best with words and that, underneath the mean, cold words he says–he doesn't mean most of them in the way you'd initially think; but to hear miguel, your closest friend for... ever, it stung. it stung badly.

you left his office without another word, you were good at leaving without a trace when you understood the point that you weren't needed, that nobody wanted to hear you blab on and on and on. after a few hours, miguel's head cooled down–he was just being overworked again and needed some alone time. now, he craved to be close to you again, but he would never out himself like that for feeling so fond about you, hence, he waited for you all day to come into his office to chat with him about the exciting, boring, ordinary and exemplary parts of your day all at once to him. but... you never came, you never stopped by to have dinner with him, and you never called him to talk all throughout the night like you two usually do. it... didn't feel right, but miguel figured that you needed space like he did, earlier–unaware about the words he muttered earlier being heard by you, not thinking that was the reason why you were suddenly silent all day and never uttered a peep to him.

miguel woke up the next morning to an eerily quiet room, usually, his alarm would be his phone's notifications going off with texts or calls from you greeting him a good morning and just hearing your voice first thing in the morning. though today, the only notifications he got were about the weather and the temperature today, absolutely nothing–not a word–from you. it was a bit unnerving for miguel that, for the rest of the day, everything felt so... quiet, too quiet. he'd constantly ask lyla randomly to check on you, and she'd report you'd be absolutely fine, physically, but he couldn't know for himself because whenever he'd glance at you from across where he was standing, you always felt so out of it. you were a lot less expressive, cheery, and just overall dull in a way; your shine and brightness was replaced with a monotonous and monochromatic aura that rivaled that of spider noir—who was also extremely concerned for you and tried to talk to you, but you didn't quite feel nor act like you, you felt so... different, and miguel was aching to figure out what was wrong and help you in any way he could.

a few hours of your silence and not visiting his office nor him personally to just be with him and talk soon turned into days of not talking to nor seeing him—and it made miguel grow fearful and worried over what was wrong. he'd ask your friends and fellow coworkers around if something was up, but they'd all say you were okay for the most part, it's just whenever miguel was around, you'd suddenly shut up and shy away as if you were hesitant to talk or speak anymore. this stung miguel involuntarily because he feared... he was the reason you were like this, and he desperately wanted to hear your lovely voice fill in the deafening silence he couldn't stand hearing anymore. you and your voice were the only ones keeping him grounded, sane, and happy; and he missed you, so, so much–he couldn't stand another day without hearing you speak another word to him.

miguel assigned himself to be your partner for every mission, and unlike the usual dynamic between you two, he was the talkative one that tried to get you to cheer up and apologize to you, while you were the quiet, emotionless one that merely listened to him and let him talk. everyone else found it quite strange, even asking miguel if he was okay, which he'd snap at and claim he was 'just peachy' and run off to you and try to apologize and treat you to the stuff and food you liked to try and show just how much he was sorry, that he missed and love you dearly. but no matter what he tried... you wouldn't utter a word to him. miguel didn't know what to do at this point, he was yearning to hear your lovely voice speak to him, at least one more time–just one more time, and he wouldn't ask for anything anymore.

but when he was about to tell you just that, that he loved you, he was sorry, that he missed hearing your voice for the final time before resigning himself to a lifetime of silence and solitude–away from you and your delightful, excited voice–you handed him a batch of cookies you made. "for... you." you uttered, and for the first time in what seemed like three whole days without talking to him, you finally spoke to him, to him–to miguel himself, nobody else, just him. miguel felt his knees get all shaky and his eyes growing wide, his lower lip quivering as he looked at you looking away from him and handing him the cookies. "...what?" "cookies, for you." you uttered again, and with that, miguel wrapped his arms around you and muttered in spanish just how much he missed you, loved you and hearing you speak, hoping that you'd never stop talking to him ever again because... oh, he'd go insane without you. "mi vida... i'm sorry, i'm so, so sorry! please, never shut up around me, do that and i... oh, mi cielo, never, ever, ever leave me alone in silence ever again..." he pleaded with you as he hugged you tightly, forgetting the cookies and just absorbing the fact that you finally spoke to him. you sighed and hugged him back softly, leaning into the crook of his neck. "you're so dramatic..." "...sorry, i just... i really missed you..." "...i mean, maybe i was, too, but... i don't want you to be burdened with my mouth that never shuts up." "it's never a burden to hear you talk, mi amor, it's a damn gift; i'm honored to be the first person every morning to hear you speak, and the last person you speak to at night–please, never, ever stop talking around me, i love... i love you." he muttered as you ran your hand through his hair, feeling your face heat up at his words as he hugged you even tighter.

you two ate the cookies you made for him together and just... talked, talked about any and everything, the little stuff, the big stuff, the in-between stuff that not everyone notices–the everyday things that you and miguel never realized you both missed from each other until you two didn't get to properly spend time together nor speak to each other. miguel knows for sure now that your voice and words keep him going, keep him motivated keep him... happy. and as long as you're here with him, as long as you're speaking your mind and heart out to him, he can't care about anything else in the multiverse; you're all that's right with the multiverse, and miguel couldn't ask for anything more or less than just all of you and your talkative, imaginative, excited self.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[7ndipity]

He Forgets Your Birthday

Jin x Reader

Summary: Jin just wants to make your birthday memorable, but what happens when life gets too hectic and makes him forget?

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: angst, swearing

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! Sorry it took me a little bit to get to.

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Life moved quickly with Jin, in multiple ways.

The first time you ever met, he asked for your number, fearing you wouldn’t cross paths again and he might not get another chance. You both said ‘I love you’ less than two months into dating, after he accidentally let it slip out during one of your first nights together, you even ended up moving in with him after less than a year when the apartment you were subletting fell through(or more accurately, flooded through, but whatever)

Things also moved quickly because of your careers. Sometimes days would flick by without your realizing, a week would turn into two before either of you noticed, and then suddenly it’s been nearly two months since your last technical date.

Despite your reassurances that you understood, Jin felt guilty at times for the two of you missing out on special occasions like holidays or anniversaries with each other, but one day he promised he wouldn’t let slip past was your birthday.

You weren't exactly a fan of making a big fuss for your birthday, but Jin wanted to make it special for you.

“I’ll cook,” He’d promised you. “I’ll make all your favorites, as well as traditional seaweed soup for good luck, and then we’ll do whatever you want for the rest of the day.”

“What if I don’t want to do anything?” You’d asked, raising a brow as you sat on his lap.

“Then we’ll do nothing together,” He’d replied, pulling you closer. “And have a wonderful time doing it.”

It’d been an easy promise to make when your birthday was still almost a month away, but as the days and weeks passed, things became increasingly hectic. Comeback season was drawing close, and with it came the pressure and chaos of constant rehearsals, video shoots, and promotional activities, leaving Jin little time to think about much else. Half the time you were already asleep before he got home at night, tiredly wrapping himself around you for a few precious hours before starting the cycle all over again.

He didn’t even know what day of the week it was until Jimin spoke up as they slumped against the wall, trying to catch their breath during rehearsals.

“Oh, how’s Y/n? Did they like their gift?” Jimin asked. “I haven't heard from them since I texted happy birthday this morning.”

Jin felt his heart screech to a stop as he looked over at the younger man, hoping he had misheard. “What?”

“The flowers you helped us pick out? I figured they would’ve-” Jimin’s voice trailed off as he noticed the growing look of horror on Jin’s face. “Tell me you didn’t forget?”

Jin’s whole body felt cold as he fumbled for his phone, stomach dropping as he read the date, and then the numerous text notifications from you.

His hands shook as he read your words, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

‘You left this morning before I got to say it, but love you💖’

‘Do you know what time you’ll be home?’

'Ngl, I'm kinda excited for tonight, it's been ages since I had your cooking😋'

‘Jinnie? Is everything okay?’

‘You’re not coming, are you?’

‘You could at least answer your phone so I know you’re okay.’

Shit.

Sparing no time explaining to the others, he grabbed his things and bolted out the door, nearly sprinting for the elevators.

He couldn’t believe how badly he’d fucked up, you must’ve been so upset with him. How would he even explain himself to you? Would you even talk to him when he got home? He wouldn’t blame you if the answer was no.

“Y/n?” He called as he opened the door but the house was silent, all the lights off, the stillness seeming to loom over him as he kicked off his shoes.

Tip-toeing through the house, he caught sight of the bouquet of flowers the guys had sent you sitting proudly in the center of the dining table, their cheery brightness almost mocking him now.

As he neared your shared bedroom, he caught sight of a sliver of light slipping out into the hall from the crack in the door.

Peeking in, he found you curled up on your side of the bed, sound asleep, but he could tell by the puffiness around your eyes that you’d been crying, shattering his heart completely.

He slowly sank down on the bed next to you, gently brushing your hair out of your face.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He choked, tears blurring your image in front of him. He felt like the worst boyfriend in the world, how could he have forgotten something like this?! He had promised you!

He’d always tried so hard to live up to his commitments and responsibilities in your relationship, no matter how small, but in the moment when it mattered the most, he’d failed you.

“Jinnie?” Your cracked, sleep laden voice snapped his attention back up to you, meeting your tired eyes.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” He said, crying in earnest now.

“ ‘s okay.” You said drowsily, too tired to fight with him.

“It’s not. I made you a promise, and I fucked up.” He said, wiping his face.

You didn’t speak, sitting up slowly and pulling him into a hug. As upset as you might’ve been, you couldn’t stand to see him cry.

You wouldn’t lie, you were deeply hurt, but it wasn’t just for you. You’d seen how hard he’d been working lately, coming home late sore and exhausted, bags under his eyes from fatigue. You hated seeing him so tired all the time, so stressed and not able to do anything about it. You knew that under normal circumstances, he would’ve never forgotten, but your lives weren’t normal.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He cried into your neck. “I’ll find a way.”

“Jinnie, I don’t care about the dinner,” You said, trying not to start crying again yourself as you pulled back to look at him. “All I really wanted was to be with you.”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“Just come hold me, please.” You half dragged him under the covers with you, winding your limbs around each other tightly.

Neither of you spoke much as you slowly drifted off to sleep, clinging to each other desperately, needing to feel each other to be sure you were both still there.

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you found his side of the bed empty.

Sitting up slowly, you glanced around, questions only just beginning to form in your mind before you heard a faint noise from somewhere in the house, the scent of one of your favorite dishes drifting through the open bedroom door.

Still groggy, you climbed out of bed and followed the smell to your kitchen, where you found your missing boyfriend, his back to you as he stood over the stove, fussing at something he was stirring.

“Why are you so salty? I didn’t even add that much.”

“Maybe it’s just in a bad mood.”

He turned at the sound of your voice, eyes softening as they found you in the doorway, messy hair and sleep clouded eyes, wearing one of his pajama tops as a sleepshirt.

“I thought you were still asleep.” He said softly.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Fulfilling my promise to you.” He said, turning back to the stove for a moment as he spoke. “It’s not quite all of your favorites, but it’s a start. Plus, we’ve got the whole day to do whatever else you want to do.”

“I have work.” You said, not unkindly.

“No, you don’t.” He responded. “I left them a message saying you were sick and couldn’t come in today.”

“Sick with what?” You asked.

“Bad boyfriend-itis,” He said, coming over to hook his arms round your waist. “It’s a very serious condition, it requires a lot of rest and care to recover from.”

“You’re not a bad boyfriend.” You said quietly, fiddling with his shirt collar.

“I’m not so sure about that.” He said, frowning.

“Well, I am.” You pushed up on your toes to press your lips to his softly, making him melt instantly. You let your hands slowly trail up and around his neck, earning a slight shiver from him before you pulled away to look at him. “What about rehearsals?”

“I told them the same thing as your work.” He said with a slightly dazed grin.

“You have boyfriend-itis too?” You raised a brow at him questioningly.

“Are you kidding? I’m patient zero.” He replied, earning a giggle from you, making his heart swell as he smiled down at you.

“Go back to bed,” He said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“I don’t wanna go back to bed.” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist, looking up at him seriously. “I told you last night, I just want to be with you.”

“Alright then.” He hooked his hands under your thighs, boosting you up to sit on the counter with a surprised squeak from you. “You can sit here and be my lovely assistant.”

“I don’t even know what you’re making.” You giggled again.

“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead and make yummy noises when I show you something.”

The two of you talked as he continued cooking, stopping each time he passed by you to leave a kiss on your waiting lips. Once everything was ready, you moved to the table, sitting close enough that you could reach over and grab his hand as he settled next to you.

He glanced up at you. “What is it?”

“Just thank you.” You said.

He tilted his head. “For what?”

“Being you. Being here.”

Jin felt the familiar twisting in his chest as he leaned over to press another kiss to your lips.

“Always.” He promised.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake again, he swore to himself, he would be there for you, no matter what else was going on. You were his world, his heart, and he would make sure you knew that from now on.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan

[bamsara]

A03 Questions Tag Game

I got tagged by: @kagedbird I tag: @onethirdofimpossible, @coffincrows, (first two that come to mind) and anyone else who wants to do the game

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

At the time of writing this post, currently 30 fics. (Not including any fics or written works that are not posted to AO3)

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

1,066,633

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Formerly: Don't Starve, FNAF, Dragons Dogma, Invader Zim

Currently: Cult of the Lamb

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

Solar Lunacy, Celestial Omens, Bytes of Lunacy, The Rehabilitation of Death, Saturday Insomnia

5 – Do you respond to comments?

I try to but I also get very nervous responding because I often don't know what to say back and I feel like it's almost rude or disrespectful to respond to a comment, esp the very nice ones that are long and in-deph with just a keysmash or a bunch of emojis, but I do read every single one since I have email notifications on for them

I'd like to sit down and respond to many but I really don't want to make it awkward so pls dear god readers forgive me

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't like unhappy endings. I enjoy angsty stories but I like when it's at least ending happy to me

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Not posted? Solar Lunacy

Ongoing? TROD

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? Most adults (in my experience) know the 'don't like don't read' rule and know basic online etiquette. I've gotten some for discontinuing a fic or switching fandoms though

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't write or draw NSFW! I like to make some suggestive themes sometimes, but I'm a very ace person, it's not something I do often. (I do have a current running goal that if my friend reaches their donation goal for their medical bills that I would give NSFW a shot, but again its not really my cup of tea)

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah I haven't written any cross overs, but I do draw them sometimes. Recently I've been spinning a Alice in Wonderland x COTL crossover in my head.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep. I've had people copy and paste my work, go in with a thesaurus to change a few words (like changing 'angry' to mad, 'upset' to 'sad', and so forth) to try and avoid detection and re-posted my written work under a different title name. AO3 staff took them down for violating their policy against plagiarism though

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I wouldn't mind it so as long as I'm asked before hand, though not on anon so I can actually work with the person to prevent any mistranslations or mishandling, and that I don't want my work posted to other websites

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

I think I did when I was a teen but I cannot remember now

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

Eh I don't have any favorites, just ones I really focus on for a long while

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Pass.

16 – What are your writing strengths?

I can sit down for hours or several days and work on a writing wip completely in the zone. I cant do it on command but its at least something I can do

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

Spelling and grammar, and sometimes long running sentences. I just kinda write, theres not really a goal for it to be perfect though so as long as the story gist and vibe is right, im fine with it

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it before but only minor, had a friend help me with it (one or two lines of dialogue) Aside from that, I'm not comfortably fluent enough in anything to do it again without assistance

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

Soul Eater, when I was wayyy too young to be posting anything on the internet. My fanfics I wrote are still on fanfic.net to this day

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

It's inbetween TROD and EE&E right now

[ventismacchiato]

42 behind the lens — curtain call !

epilogue

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

It’s at the times between recording scenes where you really get a glimpse at your lover.

His sweat stained hair and tear stained cheeks from a rather intense scene never get old. You were feeling rather fond as he made his way over to you, falling into your director’s chair and heaving a heavy breath. The only one other than you allowed to sit in it.

For a mere moment, you both simply look at each other. You guys were on break so a few conversation topics come to mind, it wasn’t often you guys got to speak as lovers rather than coworkers during work. And while they’re all things you’d like to talk to Scaramouche about, you realize you don’t need to force conversation with him.

There’s a hue of weariness that shows in Scara’s eyes, but you can tell that he’s happy. He’s doing what he’s been striving to do for all his years at university, so of course he is.

You search his dark eyes for his thoughts, too. When your eyes meet Scara’s he let’s out a tired smile.

“I missed you,” he easily says. The words come out easier than they would’ve years ago.

Your heart skips a beat, even years later.

“How? We’ve been working together all day,” you say.

“Do I need a reason to miss the person I love?” Scara scoffs, looking away from you to study the script he brought with him.

It isn’t the first time Scaramouche had told you that he loves you, but it’s never stopped holding the same weight it did the first time he’d ever said it.

It’s a rare type of love. The kind that exists so rarely for people in this industry and that lead lives similar to your guys’.

His loves makes you feel alive everyday. And Scara should know it, you should tell him more often—even if it’s rather dramatic for midday on set for their most recent project. It’s something you’d bring up at night that you two could laugh about in bed. Even if it catches Scara off guard.

But Scaramouche’s love caught you off guard, too, and every second you got the privilege to spend with him was a gift.

And as you stare at him, fiddling with the sleeves of his costume and eyebrows scrunched as he mouths his lines, you couldn’t help but feel your heart grow heavy.

“I suppose you don’t,” you reply, a minute too late, but Scara still chuckles at your response as he tosses the script aside.

“What? You’re not going to say it back?” he teases, “And I thought I was the emotionally constipated one.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you mutter, hitting him on the shoulder, “I love you, too. I guess.”

“Archons, you’re worse than me.”

“No, you were much worse when we were younger!”

“It was hot and mysterious when I did it.”

“Uh huh, just go back to set I’m sick of you.”

“Weird way to say you agree but okay.”

“Go!”

.

.

.

୨⎯ THE END ⎯୧

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev

author’s notes — and that’s a wrap folks! hope the ending wasn’t awkward i just wanted it to be short and sweet. anyway, thank u to everyone who read and kept up with this fic, means a lot to me that this blew up as it was smth i wrote for myself. if ur rereading this or are a reader in the future ty to you too! i appreciate the silent readers, anons, and ppl who left me sm cute comments and reblogs. u guys made writing it more fun and easier to ignore the not so nice ppl. i cant reply to everyone but just know i do read every ask and comment i get! i do hope to see u guys in my notifs in the future even if i don’t write for genshin anymore, but if not then i’m glad you gave my writing a chance <3 have a great day/night byebye

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]

[its-all-papaya]

landoscar + 41? 🧡 maybe fake/pr-dating-turned-real-dating coded, so maybe even + 56? like, they realize the fake wasn't that fake anymore 🙈 (insert i am in love are you in love audio here)

they are both in love, anon.

(because i found it kind of impossible to explain without adding sooo much exposition... oscar is not a driver. he's just... a guy. that mclaren found. to date lando. suspend your disbelief, idk)

send me a ship and a number and i will write a kiss

41. to pretend (or is it?) | landoscar | 1.2k

Lando is in over his head. His aching, pounding, hurts-so-bad-it’s-making-him nauseous head. If he’d known one throw-away trip to the club in Miami was going to complicate his life so irreparably, he would have tucked his P1 trophy into bed next to him and gone straight to sleep like a good, boring boy. Instead, he’d gotten catastrophically fucked-up on any number of things he doesn’t remember and tossed himself dick-first into an entire publicity nightmare. That’s the worst part, probably: Lando doesn’t even remember. He remembers taking shots with Max and Danny and he remembers – barely – stumbling to the bathroom, and the next discernable point on that mental timeline comes at approximately 6:45 a.m., when he’d woken up to go vomit and found his lock screen so full of notifications that it’d made him forget to wonder where the man he’d gone to bed next to had pissed off to so early.

Since then, every minute of Lando’s life not spent in the car has felt full wall-to-wall with interviews, and meetings with crisis management, and saying “I’d prefer not to comment on that” so many times he hears it on repeat like an ear worm when he’s falling asleep at night. And also Oscar. There’s been a lot of Oscar.

He’s waiting in the lobby of McLaren’s hospitality when Lando arrives down from his driver’s room after qualifying in Brazil. Lando wonders how he got in, if their bosses have finally decided he’s trustworthy enough to walk around unchaperoned. It’s funny that he ever didn’t have a pass, actually; he is technically a McLaren employee. Probably. Lando thinks he gets paid. They’ve never talked about the specifics.

Either way, however he got there, Oscar is by himself in the lobby, leaned back in a chair, thumbing at his phone. He looks up when he senses Lando’s arrival, and Lando must look even more pathetic than he even thought, because Oscar’s face immediately goes soft with concern and he leaps up to take Lando’s bag off his hands.

“Hey, you alright?” he asks. He slides the backpack onto his own shoulders and then steadies a hand in the middle of Lando’s back, thumb tracing comforting little circles near his spine.

Lando could lie, but there’s not really any point to that, so he lets his face fold into the grimace it wants to be in and presses his thumb between his eyebrows.

“Head’s killing me,” he says. It comes out weak.

Oscar makes a sad little sound in sympathy, and the palm on Lando’s back shifts to his side so Oscar can tug him closer. Lando doesn’t have the energy to fight Oscar on these things at the best of times lately, so he’s definitely not going to when he’s exhausted and sick with the pain behind his eyes. Even though there’s really nobody around to see them.

“Let’s get you back to the hotel, then,” Oscar says, and Lando has never agreed to anything faster.

Oscar leads the way out of hospitality and through the paddock, fingers linked securely between Lando’s own. It’s baffling that he’s already been around this circus long enough to know the way without help. Nice, though, because Lando’s not really in a state to be of any.

They run into a few people along the way – fans or sponsors or employees. Lando doesn’t get the chance to tell which are which, because every time somebody new greets them, Oscar’s fingers tighten around his own and he talks the both of them cleverly out of the conversation before Lando can even consider what he would say if he was left to his own devices. It feels nearly impossible that less than six months ago, Oscar could barely say two words to Lando without being directly asked to.

“Oscar!” he hears as they’re nearing the exit, and they’re so close to relative quiet that Lando can’t help but groan about it. Oscar squeezes his hand again like an apology as he turns to address whoever it is.

"What’s up?” Oscar asks. When Lando lifts his eyes from the pavement, it’s Max stood before them. Both of his hands are hooked in the straps of his backpack and his chest is heaving just a little, like he’d jogged to catch them up.

“You’ll of course be at the race tomorrow?” Max asks. Lando’s not sure where this conversation is going, but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t have to happen right now. He hopes the look he’s giving Max is sufficiently irritated.

It must do the job, because Max’s eyes brighten and he says “Not pleased about that, Lando?”

Oscar’s hand goes from Lando’s palm to his back again, quick, and before Lando can open his mouth, Oscar’s saying, “He doesn’t feel good.”

“Ah,” Max says. Lando can’t figure out the look he’s being given.

“The race tomorrow?” Lando presses. If they’re going to chat about whatever it was right now, they could at least get to the point.

Max nods, shifting his gaze back to Oscar, “You are staying, yeah?”

“Yeah," Oscar says, "Why?”

It’s taking too long. Lando squeezes his eyes shut and presses his forehead against Oscar’s shoulder, hoping the counterpressure might do anything at all for the hot ache in his brain. Oscar’s hand goes immediately to the back of Lando’s neck, like it’s habit, and his thumb starts drawing firm lines down the muscle there, hairline to nape. It feels…really, really nice, actually.

“You’ll fly back with us after,” he can make out Max saying, “to Monaco. Lando and I and a few others.”

That doesn’t really make sense. Oscar’s been planning to go home for a bit over the mini break, Lando knows, they talked about it nearly right away when the agreement was drawn up. Far be it from him to argue that point, though, not when Oscar’s saying “Yeah, thanks, mate,” and his thumb’s still easing the pain in Lando’s skull. Lando would blame it on the headache, but it’s not like he’ll mind the extra time with Oscar, either. Which Max knows.

Lando cracks his eyes open and shifts enough to squint suspiciously at his friend, but Max is just grinning happily at the pair of them.

“Very good,” Max says. Sure.

“That’s all?” Oscar asks. His thumb finally stills. Lando does not whine about it, but it’s a close thing.

“Yes,” Max says, “you can take grumpy home now.”

Then, before Lando can decide whether that’s worth getting upset over, Oscar squeezes the back of his neck and nudges him up off his shoulder. His eyes are apologetic when Lando meets them, and he kisses Lando once on the forehead as he slides their palms back together.

It’s nice. Domestic. Very convincing, probably. Oscar’s gotten really good at his job.

“We’ll see you, mate,” Oscar says.

Max clasps Oscar’s hand for a second, then squeezes Lando’s shoulder on his way by.

When he's a few steps off, Oscar says, “Ready?” like Lando hasn’t been begging to go this whole time.

Lando says yes, please and he can tell it's a little whiny, because Oscar says "Hey, okay love, I'm sorry" and brushes a gentle kiss against his lips. Lando thinks Max is probably too far away to see it, but Oscar would know better.

It’s not until they’re finally settled into the back of the car, sides pressed together, that Lando remembers:

“Max knows about everything. You didn’t have to… he knows.”

Oscar’s gaze is soft and maybe a little sad, for some reason, but he smiles past it and combs his fingers through Lando’s hair until he settles.

“Yeah,” Oscar says as Lando’s head falls back against his shoulder, “He does.”

[reidspharb]

part two on the angst spencer reid (happy ending if u want) 🤞🤞

How You Get The Girl

*Part two to The moment I knew

Summary: After four days of no calls, Spencer tries his hardest to fix things with you

Word count: 1.14k

Warnings: angst, fluff, lead by pure vibes idk

Note: idk whats with me and writing at ungodly hours of the night but this one was written mostly at like 1am so any errors are due to sheer sleep deprivation! also thank you so much to anon who submitted this it was really nice to give this little story a happy ending :) also first anon ask super cool on enough of this now.

It had been 3 days 2 hours and 43 minutes since you had last spoken to Spencer. He knew because he couldn’t stop thinking about that short exchange, how you were so upset you didn’t even let him explain. 

Spencer couldn’t stop staring at his phone, picking it up every few minutes, maybe I missed the notifications he told himself.

The truth was, he knew he fucked up and he knew he hurt you and missing that party was the worst decision he had made in a long time. 

Thinking about you had consumed him so much that he found it hard to complete his work. He never used his phone at work, unless he needed to call someone for something work-related.

Of course, working with a group of profilers, people began to pick up this odd behaviour. The first to notice was his best friend JJ. 

She immediately recognized his anxious demeanour, but she just didn’t know why. After a while, she ruled out problems with his mother, and that didn’t really leave many options.

Spencer didn’t have many friends - at least that they knew of- and most likely didn’t have a girlfriend either, so what was it?

JJ approached him after their round table meeting on a case just a few miles west of Quantico. 

“Hey, Spence,” she sighed settling her hands on her hips.

“What’s up JJ?” He replied, obviously trying to act as normal and natural as possible, but it wasn’t really working. 

“Nothing, I was just wondering how you’re doing,” Immediately Spencer blushed, obviously embarrassed that his co-workers were noticing his new habits “You just seem… off. Worried. Is everything alright?”

Spencer had tried to hide his shame but clearly, it wasn’t working and he just couldn’t keep it all contained anymore. 

“No, I-“ he sighed and looked down at his feet, trying to decide what to say next. Jennifer didn’t even know about his girlfriend, how would she react knowing he hid that from her all this time and also did such a heartbreaking thing to an innocent girl.

He faked a laugh and a dull smile, “No, JJ everything’s fine! I've just been a little anxious because,” he swallowed and tried to come up with a lie as realistic and believable as possible, “I’ve just been awaiting an interview for this teaching job at Virginia Tech, and uh, they haven’t told me the date yet.” He said in a nonchalant tone, praying that JJ wouldn’t push harder.

She obviously knew he was lying, the guy was a genius but he wasn’t a very good liar. Even though she knew there was something deeper, she thought if he wanted her help, he would be honest. 

“Oh, cool! I’m sure you’ll get that response soon.” She said cheerfully before walking away and clearing the conversation out of her brain.

After the fourth day had passed Spencer knew he had to do something to make this right, the regret had nearly swallowed him whole. 

When he got off work, he drove over to the closet flower shop and purchased a rather large bouquet of your favourite flowers. He remembered when you told him that a bouquet of flowers was always the best apology.

To go along with your flowers, he purchased you a birthday card, to make up for missing the party. It was a rather cute thing, with a pop-up kitten inside, he knew you would love it even if you didn’t say it. 

He scrawled a short birthday wish into the card before starting up his car and heading in the direction of your home. 

As he drove towards your house in the darkness and rain he couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when he arrived. Would you be so angry you would throw it all in a puddle? Or would you welcome and forgive him and this would all be over. Of course, he hoped for the latter, but he would understand if you were upset by seeing his face again.

Once he had arrived, his heart raced as he stepped out of the car and headed towards the front door. When he walked up the stairs, already wet from the rain, he thought of the first time he ever strolled up those short steps and your first kiss standing right there in front of your front door.

He rapped on the door two times fast and two times slow, just like he always did. He could feel himself nearly shivering as his hands just about vibrated while he waited in that infinitely long moment for you to open the door.

He heard the chain on your door unlock and as the door swung open, he saw your face. Your tear-stained, puffy, red face. Seeing you like this almost brought tears to his own eyes.

The way you looked at him ate at him from the inside.

You sighed and looked him up and down, inspecting the flowers he was holding.

“Oh my god, Spencer. Are you insane?” You practically shrieked when you realized he was standing outside your door at 9 PM in the pouring rain. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I should have called first before I just showed up, but I nearly lost my mind missing you.” He said truthfully. “I was just too afraid to see you and tell you that what I did was so fucking stupid and I just really h-“

Just like you had on the phone those few days ago, you cut him off, but instead of with a snarky remark, with a hug. You nearly jumped into his arms. You didn’t care if you got wet or if the flowers got ruined, you just wanted to feel him. 

After the lengthy embrace, you let your boyfriend in. He gave you your flowers and your, now wet, card and made you both tea while you placed them in a large glass vase.

The two of you sat down on the couch and you let him explain this time, fully explain. You could feel his remorseful aura, and even though what he did sucked, you didn't care anymore, you were just so happy to have him with you.

After your long discussion, you ate leftover cake, then celebrated your birthday by binging your favourite tv shows and remembering old memories.

The following morning, Reid decided to move in with you, telling you he never wanted to be away from you at a time like that again. He hung up framed photos of you all over the house of kisses on cheeks and happy memories. He would remind you nearly every morning how much he loves what you have and wants you no matter what, for worse or for better, nearly like wedding vows.

And you can say proudly he never missed another birthday.

[cordeliawhohung]

i literally always interact with ur posts and i always try to initiate some sort of friendship but you dont !!!! idk

so, it's rather unfortunate that i feel like i have to explain myself even though i know i don't have to, but i'm going to anyway because this will eat me alive if i don't and i'm gonna set healthy boundaries here.

first, thank you for your continued support of my posts. interaction makes the site go round, and all that. but this comment feels really... transactional.

i feel like i do a really good job at interacting with people who comment and whatnot on my posts. i answer asks, i enjoy the silly ones and the serious ones, i try to be fun, be funny, be kind, be engaging, be myself, be whatever. and frankly, i don't think i understand what more you're wanting from me. i respond to a majority of comments on my posts! i sort of pride myself with how often i interact with people on here despite my busy life! if you're in my notifs often, there's probably already a decent chance i enjoy seeing you pop up, and enjoy responding to you, and enjoy engaging with you, and probably even consider you a friend if we speak often in comments, etc.

it's really hard to tell exactly what you're wanting me to do based off of this very vague ask, but if you're like, wanting to dm with me or something i'm sorry. i'm like the worst person ever when it comes to dms. i work 10 hour shifts. i have family to take care of, a mortgage to pay for etc etc. ask any of my moots, i literally never dm. i leave people on read quite often because i'm just so bad at it. i'm busy all the time and it gets overwhelming. so if you've got some sort of fomo going on that i'm part of something more than just my silly posts or anything, i promise you there's nothing you're missing out on.

which is why i stick to comments. replying to stuff. mainly engaging on posts. answering asks. etc. i'm literally giving everyone all the energy i have to give already. on top of writing!!!!

and this is going to sound really cunty, but also realize that just because you interact with someone, that doesn't mean they owe you anything. and this doesn't just go for me, but literally everyone on this site. they don't owe you a reply, or a thank you, or a comment, or anything. and that sucks but that's literally how life works. not everything is a series of transactions. everyone has their reasons that dictate why they may or may not respond or initiate what you want from them. but that's what this asks feels like. wanting something from me. wanting more than what i've been giving. wanting something i mentally, and emotionally can't provide given my circumstances.

i literally love everyone who positively interacts with me, so this feels like a punch to the gut, knowing someone thinks that i'm not doing enough by not catering to some very vague and impossible to know need. i'm not a mind reader!

sorry if this sounded short, but i'm wanting to make my boundaries very clear here. i am so so grateful for everyone who interacts with my stuff, and i show my love by responding as best as i can. most of my friendships on this site are formed by interactions that way. asking anything more from me is something i simply cannot give you.

also, anon asks will be turned off AGAIN after i post this because just on the off chance this is not received well, i'm not opening myself up to anon hate lmao.

[xoxoluka]

hey! can i put in a request about long distance friends (maybe theres a lil summin going on but who knows?) reader and schlatt?

just have an idea of reader living in brighton or something and schlatt comes to visit...

sorry for the wait anon, pls enjoy!

jschlatt x reader

summary: schlatt has a crush on you, but you live in an entirely different country. he’ll find a way to make it work.

warnings: uhhhh

a/n: i got this request in a group of other notifications while i was at prom, i almost didn’t notice it :p also idk how school works in the uk sooo lmao

"listen, jay, we can meet up as soon as this semester ends, alright?" you say, trying to compromise with him. "as soon as I get back, I'll hop on a flight to Austin."

It's not like you wanted to put such a big wedge between the two of you, but you had gotten such a big offer from University of Brighton (full ride, you couldn't turn that down) towards your Art and Design degree, that there was absolutely no way you were going anywhere in the US. You lived in New York originally, you and Schlatt grew up together. It was weird being so far away from him.

"you can't just come now? take a week off or something?" he groaned.

"you know I can't," you sigh, sitting down on the bed in your dorm. "it's may. i'll be there in a few weeks, the term isn't much longer."

it was always odd having this conversation with him. something never felt right. you understood wanting to see him as a friend, but you always wanted to see him more than that. you chalked it up to being so close, but you knew in some small part of your mind that it wasn't the reason.

"alright, fine. but you're coming straight here when you're done."

"deal."

~

schlatt nearly lost an arm and a fucking leg trying to get here. first, the airport in Texas wasn't accepting his passport, then there was an issue with his luggage, and he almost missed his flight. and if that wasn't enough, he couldn't find the correct exit in the airport in Brighton, and there were no taxis available, making him stand there and wait for 45 minutes. thankfully, you had told him the time of your graduation in a phone call a few nights ago when you were complaining about how late it was.

he finally made it to the college after his many issues, and was just in time to watch you walk the stage.

"Y/N L/N, graduating with honors and a bachelor's degree in Art and Design." The crowd clapped as you stepped up on stage, from your seat down on the floor, taking the diploma and shaking the hands of the many people on stage. on your way back down, you think you pot a familiar face, but psych yourself out of the thoughts before you think about it too hard.

the ceremony ends a while after, and the crowd and graduates are dismissed. you planned on just going back to your dorm to pack, taking your cap off and holding it and your diploma under your arm as you walk, staring down at your phone.

"leaving without me?" you hear from behind you, making you perk up and whip around, seeing your favorite person standing behind you.

"oh my god!" you exclaim, jumping into his arms excitedly. tears of joy brim your eyes, laughing as he hugged you back.

you stayed like that for a good minute or so before he put you down and you separated.

"when did you get here?" you ask through laughs, wiping your eyes.

"just a while ago, made it right on time." he answers.

"jesus christ, i love you." you say before even realizing your mistake, and it took you a moment to register his silence.

you look up at him once you realized, a look of terror and guilt on your face. he looks serious, making you question if you had just blown it all. you hadn't even planned on telling him at all.

thankfully, he breaks and laughs, pulling you into a hug again. "love you too, toots."

you let out a breath of relief and laugh, holding him as tight as you can. "you came at the perfect time, I need someone to help me pack."

schlatt playfully groans in response to that, but looks down at you. "i guess i'll help you."

a/n: i crave the schlanket can someone buy me one

© property of xoxoluka. do not repost.

[lost-in-lamentation]

It probably isn't the best pair, but could I suggest "I'll take over from here, you go rest" with Mammon?

(Or with Lucifer if it comes easier)

(Writer's block is a pain, I hope you can defeat that beast soon and I wish you a good day)

a/n: thank you for the well wishes anon (´ω｀) also praying that i can defeat it soon ..

prompt #2: mammon + “i’ll take over from here, you go rest.”

content: tired reader who needs some extra help getting errands done.

warnings: brief dizziness for the reader.

comfort. mammon x gen!reader (you/your).

you groaned internally when your d.d.d. pinged with a loud notification. during your study time, you always kept it on silent, with the exception of lucifer’s contact allowed to bypass the do not disturb settings. if your phone was going off, it meant lucifer had another task for you. with a sigh, you tapped your screen awake, groaning again when you saw that lucifer wanted you to run to multiple stores. you replied back with a quick “okay”, not wanting to stir lucifer’s mood. before heading out, you stopped by mammon’s room, poking your head through the doorway. a call of his name had the room responding in silence, and you realised a few seconds later that his car wasn’t in the room either. guess he’s out doing who knows what, you thought to yourself.

adjusting your bag on your shoulder, you set out for your first errand, which in hindsight, should have been your last. you weren’t sure what went through your head when you decided on the grocery store first. the amount of food for beel alone had you stopping for breaks as you carried the bags around. the second stop wasn’t much better; lucifer had definitely underestimated how many packages were at the postal office for pick up. the demon at the front desk had half a mind to ask if you needed assistance to take everything back, but with the cost of extra shipping, you end up grumbling “no thanks,” before putting on a strained smile and hauling your belongings out to the street.

you weighed your options once you got outside. beel would definitely be able to carry most of this, but he’d snack on the groceries before you even got halfway home. lucifer was not to be disturbed, of course. satan would most likely be holed up in his room reading, while levi would be playing games. mammon was nowhere to be found, and as for asmo and belphie; “out of the question,” you huffed. sighing despondently, you stuffed as much as you could into your backpack before sliding all the bag handles around your forearms. the weight made you dizzy and had you teetering dangerously from side to side. your teeth broke skin as you bit down on your lip, the effort of staying up and trying to hold everything going far past your abilities. finally, you took a shaky step forward, but a particularly heavy bag swung too far in front, sending you barreling towards the ground. you had given up, accepting your fate of crashing into a muddy puddle when a shriek from up ahead caught your attention.

you felt arms circle tightly around your torso, and your head landed on a shoulder you were very familiar with. “oh, mammon?” you practically slurred the question, your mind not all where it should be.

“that’s all ya have to say?!” mammon shouted at full volume, despite being right next to you. “seriously human, what are you even doin’ with all this?” he grunted with the effort to set you upright, tugging the bags off your arms and forcing you to get rid of the backpack that was dragging you down.

“lucifer asked me to run errands,” you said quietly, your hand clasping mammon’s shoulder to stabilise yourself. you failed to notice the red dusting mammon’s cheeks as you gripped even tighter.

the white haired demon hooked an arm around your waist in response, holding you up. “and you decided that you could carry all this?” mammon chided quietly when you shook your head, his gaze softening when he saw how quiet you were becoming. “okay, okay, come on. can you walk? my car’s over there.”

you blinked your vision back into focus, now seeing the way mammon had parked. you weren’t sure if you could say he parked at all, with the way it was practically on the sidewalk. “mammon, why’s your car-?”

“don’t ask, just get in there. i’ll take the stuff over,” he muttered, pushing you gently away before leaning down and grabbing a number of the grocery bags. by the time you had settled into the passenger seat, mammon was back with the second round of items, piling it into his trunk carefully. he headed back again for the remaining few, throwing what couldn’t fit in the trunk onto the backseat. “that would be a lot for even beel, ya know,” he exhaled, getting into the driver's seat next to you. “what else is on that list from my dear, older brother?”

“eh? weren’t you going out somewhere else?” you asked, not wanting to interrupt his day off.

“don’t be stupid,” mammon scoffed. “you nearly died just trying to hold everything.” you opened your mouth to protest, but mammon had his hand covering it before you could utter a word. “no. you look like you haven’t slept in ages so… i’ll take over from here. it’s just errands anyway. you need to get some rest.” mammon wasn’t gentle in his scolding, but the concern in his eyes told another story. “i’m taking you home.”

you pushed his hand away, giving him a hard stare. “i’m coming with you.”

the second born cursed his sin; of course he would let you stay. greed came in the way he never wanted you to leave. the tips of his ears turned pink, admitting defeat before he could. “fine. but you’re sleeping in the car until we get to the next store.”

“mammon, the next store is like, five minutes from here.”

“shut up. i’m taking the scenic route.”

a/n: and so, mammon drove around for an hour instead of taking you directly to the store

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

prompt list here.

[luvkuvi]

i saw you asking for scenarios and Maybe a one where Scara and [name] goes in their monthly picnic and name couldn't prepare for it and make food bc they slept in bc they were studying and [name] gets guilty and stuff? HELP I CAN'T THINK IF ANYTHING GOOD

-💐

JSJSKSOSO no worries 💐 anon this sounds really cute

ft.stubborn scara(in a good way), not proofread!

gimmie more writing prompts for scara please i love writing for him >:)

[scarasmooch<3] 9:30 am: where are you?

[scarasmooch<3] 9:45 am: at least tell me you're on your way

[scarasmooch<3] 10:00 am: ???

As you twist and groan over your bed you feel your phone vibrate even to you the time would still be at about 7 am but as your phone kept buzzing you got annoyed so you picked it up only to be greeted by big bold numbers saying

11: 11 am 

with the notifications from scara that have been sent an hour ago. All the laziness and tiredness from your body disappeared in an instant as you got up from your bed not bothering to tidy it up hoping scara will still be at your guy's meeting place mid panic trying to find the outfit you prepared you suddenly remember…you had to cook for this date!

You got more panicky as you rushed to the kitchen seeing the ingredients that you were supposed to cook early in the morning were just in the refrigerator very visibly uncooked

You swear if the stress from studying didn't take you out you were sure this would hit like a final blow. Your train of thoughts disappeared as you heard someone knocking, opening the door there stood your boyfriend wearing his black shirt and black cargo pants and despite being summer he loves his dark fashion he even wears them to your guy's picnic in contrast…you were only wearing your sleeping pajamas with unkempt hair and waves of guilt and shame spread to your body as you saw him furrowed his eyebrows

"I'm sorry" was the first thing you muttered upon seeing your boyfriend as you avoided eye contact. "Just let me in" he flicked your forehead as he just waltzed into your apartment. He didn't show signs of anger at all you thought. "You're not mad..?" you questioned the violet-haired man that was walking to your kitchen. He rolled his eyes in response "I'm not mad at you showing up, I'm mad at you for not taking care of yourself dumbass" he grumbled leaning on the counter as you sighed in relief, he always was understanding but hated it when you're careless about your health.

"What are you doing standing there? get dressed it's still noon" Your eyes light up from his words as you head into your room to get changed that is until you notice him put on an apron you have hanging around.

"Wait, you're gonna cook ?" 

"what? like it's hard ?"

It was hard. His mom didn't know how to cook so he also doesn't know how to cook. Spent 2 hours watching him struggle to bake cupcakes because he was too stubborn to ask for help(He also wants to do something nice for you since you got a lot on your plate). In the end, though you guys had a wonderful picnic while watching the sunset

[sweetadonisbutbetter]

Can I ask for an hsc in which Adam is betrayed by his third wife for the third time (reader)

How would Adam react if he found out about this? Would he give a damn and go to whores or despair?

Thanks you

OH MY GOD ☹️☹️☹️☹️my face when i was writing adam fluff and I saw this notif pop up in my ask box. i think this one might be shorter than anything I write and I apologize for that.

Third time is NOT the charm | Adam x Fem!Wife! Reader

relationship: romantic warnings: mentions of cheating, aruging and just kinda angsty

OHHH HE IS SO HEARTBROKEN

He already had some slight trust issues with you cheating in the past, never fully able to trust you again, so he followed you. Sue him, he wanted to make sure you weren’t seeing someone.

Then he saw you enter an apartment you had never been to before, only to come out way later in the day to you looking so disheveled. He may not be a genius, but he knows for sure that you slept with someone else. 

he gave you chance after chance, and yet you went behind his back once again

it is at this point, that he truly thinks that all of his failed relationships are his fault, that all of his inadequacies outweigh his better qualities, and that he is truly unloveable. 

I would think he would fall into despair. since he forgave you two previous times, I think he was really in love with you. When he loves, he loves hard, making this all the more painful for him. 

He spends a good while mourning the relationship, the love, and just everything. 

Outwardly, he becomes more bitter, more of a dick than ever before. Everyone in heaven already avoids him like the plague, especially since his reputation wasn't the best due to his…whole personality. Now everyone avoids him in fear of him snapping at them. 

But inwardly? He is so insecure and just looking for someone to hold him. A part of him wants to crawl into your arms and curl up like a wounded animal. Hoping that you would tend to it with such care, love, and grace that you once gave him.

Cries and gets drunk to Lute, telling her everything (Lute may or may not be planning your murder)

Begins to overthink your relationship.

Did you ever love him? Did you ever care for him? Were you like this in your life or just to him? Why even stay with him? What did he do to deserve this? Sure he was a shitty person, but he wasn’t a half-bad husband. He had never cheated on any of his wives. 

When he finds the courage to confront you, he is trying so hard to keep it together. He does well, up until you go into detail about why you did it.

Why? You just felt like it.

If it was with three different guys, it would hurt him, yes, but it would hurt him far less than if you told him it was with the same guy. It would uproot his entire being if he found out you slept with Lucifer (once or three times it doesn't matter)

If you did get with Lucifer, this breaks him fundamentally. He lost his first wife (unknown that Eve also slept with him) to that fucking devil and he got nothing for it each time. Just the feeling of betrayal and another wall around his already guarded heart.

He gets so angry at your nonchalance that he bursts for you to get out and that you both are getting a divorce. 

If you don’t care about it, it would hurt him more. In his mind, it shows that you never loved him, truly for him. 

If you care about the divorce, it makes him more angry. Where was this remorse when you cheated on him the first time? What about the second time? Why is it now coming up that he is ending things for good?

Overall not a win-win situation. 

Post-divorce, he vows to himself to not get with anyone. Now he is more of a dick, more nasty, vulgar, and everything under the sun. The pain of your cheating already hurt him in so many more ways that he is emotionally stunted romantically. 

If you tried to get back with him, to start over, he would laugh in your face and spit at you.

I WAS LITERALLY MID WAY THROUGH WRITING THE PREGANT READER FIC WHEN THIS ENTERED MY ASK BOG anon when i catch you when i catch you anon /lh also hope this is what u wanted anon :D

anywayss hope yall enjoyeedd hehe

[oddvanilla]

Honey, I'm pregnant and it's yours

Also Petey misses you

Im scared even writing this, I know I'm gonna get smth along the lines of 'go the fuck away' but I jus can't help it

I know u know who this is

Also I'm also very scared of you at the moment

Thank you, and I know it seems weird but I can't help it but, I love you [I seem creepy, sorry, also u don't have to accept it]

Bye bye, u probably won't even post this but I've been killing myself thinking about doing this

Thank you

Also Petey really does miss u 🤣

Also just thanks again

[Also sorry I'm not like talking about our break up or anything Id just prefer to do that if I knew u want to too and not like this]

Bye bye for reals now, id put a silly photo but I'm doing this in anon for some reason :)

Bye bye

Also I know you probably didn't expect this to happen

But hey I needed to do something about it

Bye bye now

HOLY CRAP HOW DID I NEVER SEE THIS??? it must've gotten lost in my notifications or something idk...

HAI R**N* !!! I remember your name and every time I try to type my own, yours always comes first. Even when I'm filling up forums or crap...

I'm sorry for scaring you off!!! I still care about you. And for every time I forget to, here I'll just say: I still love you 🫶 even after everything that happened. You're like impossible to hate. I can't help it either🤷‍♀️

My sister still checks on you, even you know that. She tells me what happened to you and that kinda crap. I feel bad all the time, and I'm sorry. I would've said this way earlier If I could, but stuff happens,, YK?? It hurts me so bad knowing what I caused. I didn't mean to do this to you, and even back when we were friends I tried holding on because I can't let you ruin yourself. I miss what we had, that's one fact.

I do care if you kill yourself. I DO care if you slit your wrist. I do still care about you in general. All I wish you is love, that's pretty much. I even asked my sister to go and give you asks just so you're not alone anymore. I don't care if she replaces me,, hey at least you got a friend!!!

But I never deleted everything we shared. All the screenshots from our conversations are like a comfort place, even. I still listen to every song you used to spam. I know I hate pencey prep and frank iero, but I still listen to their music because it reminds me of you. I only hated MCR because I wanted you to have your own thing. I want you to focus on yourself and crap. But now I just went back to listening to MCR because it's all I have left of you. You deserve a real apology from me if you just let us talk this out!!!

I can't replace you, and you know that. I call people my husband or wife but I still have you in mind. You're the best person on here I know, and even though I hated it or pretended it, I miss waking up to lots of messages. Now I still wake up to those but from lots of different people. I don't like it that way, I wish you could just come back. I waited for you SO long and I gave up. I want you back and I would do anything for that. But I didn't go talk to you directly because you know I want you to have space. I miss having only ONE person to go to. I didn't ignore you because I had other people to talk to!!! If anything, my parents expected so much from me like school and other crap that I don't have time to reply to anyone either!!!

Now it's been rough and stuff. I almost have nobody to open up to. Everyone I know is either always asleep or always can't talk. But you're always there and that's one thing nobody can beat you at. I don't even text people first anymore because I feel like I'm a bother and when I'm with you it just feels easier because. You're accepting.

I never told anyone about what we had in detail. I never tried to do the same things WE did with anyone else either. Nobody has to know about what letters are missing in p** w*y h*g*er. Nobody has to know why we hated your brother and how he was a bitch. I don't even send people frerard fanfics anymore because I don't want a friendship story like ours just a 2.0 version. I think you're the one for me, if anything. I love you and you didn't mess up, I did.

I don't want you to leave me alone, I want you back. If YOU can do this then we could build everything back. just know that even if you don't want me, it's fine. But I won't try to find anyone better,, I'll just sit back, I guess🙏🙏 tell mamacita im not done with rizzing her up🙄🙄

[gavisuntiedboot]

Hello, if your taking requests at the moments I have one that I’d love to see though it may be a little difficult!

Gavi and the reader (an actor) are dating but are in different counties due to the reader going aboard to film a new show! The young couple decide to go on an Instagram live together to hang out & a lot of fans join!

Hello and welcome to a new series I’m calling “boot on the bus”, where I see how much I can write of an ask on my bus ride home. Whatever state it is at at the end of my ride, I post! (Also so sorry to this anon who sent me this req literally months ago)

~~~

[incoming call]: pablito ❤️😡

“Hello?”

“Amor!! Finally!!”

“Pablo, why are you making an international call right now?”

“I can afford it. You have three seconds to explain to me why you haven’t been answering a single one of my FaceTime calls. I’ve been worried and, more importantly, bored out of my mind!”

You laughed lightly and relaxed back into the plush cushions of the hotel couch. You had forgotten that the last time you were out of Spain for filming was before you had met Gavi. Being on a successful HBO original came with a lot of perks, but also a lot of pain, both physical and emotional. You had joined the royal drama “Heavenly Bodies” in the middle of its first season, instantly being thrown into a love triangle between the two male leads. Viewers ate it up, creating theories and art (and ofc fan fiction) about you and your costars, foaming at the mouth to know what would happen next. The high demand lead to your current situation, where you were cooling off in a high hotel room overlooking Dubai, listening to your boyfriends complaints 2 months earlier than scheduled.

“I haven’t gotten any of them, Pablito. FaceTime is blocked here.”

You heard a loud scoff over the phone.

“If you are too busy to talk just say that, princesa. How could FaceTime be blocked in Dubai? That makes no sense!”

“Google it.” You retorted, laying back on the couch and cracking open a cold soda. You heard yells of “Ale! Google this for me!”, followed by a long pause.

“Oh wow. It is blocked.”

“See!” You yelled into the receiver, causing Gavi to complain about his sensitive eardrums. You sat back down, continuing what would probably be a very expensive phone call with your boyfriend. As you two talked, he sighed loudly, and you heard his body hit the couch.

“I miss seeing your face, princesa. Don’t get me wrong I love the sound of your voice, but it’s just different. Is there no way we can video call?”

You could basically hear the pout and puppy dog eyes in Gavi’s voice, and it made your heart swell. He was so enamored by you, so taken by the way you looked and spoke and laugh, that all he wanted was to once again cup your face in his hands and pull you in close enough to share his breathing space.

“Well, we could always just go on live together.”

“Huh?”

“Like do a live stream. On instagram or something. We would both be calling but there would just be other people there.”

Gavi paused once again, playing around with the idea in his mind.

“But what if I… want to say “not appropriate in front of people” stuff?”

“That’s what Snapchat is for.”

His laugh resounded through the phone, and you couldn’t help the large smile that squinted your eyes and filled out your cheeks.

“Okay, Vamos, let’s do it.”

You got onto instagram and started a live, inviting Gavi to join. Every one of your 10.5 million followers who has their notifications on started to pour in, the messages of “I love you 😍” and “hi from Brazil 🇧🇷” flying at unreadable speeds. Gavi’s end connected a second later, and the fans went mental. Gavi was beaming like the sun when the line connected, finally able to see your face again.

“Hello again, Amor. I missed that pretty smile.”

Your fans and Gavi’s were now in the chat trying to prevent a mass cardiac arrest incident.

Ynbiggestfan: MOTHERRRRR AND FATHERRR

gavi3096: nobody let Madrid see this they’ll know how to make him soft

Ynandgavicloset2: the way he calls her amor time to take a nap on an electrical wire in the rain

You weren’t reading any of it thought. You were staring at Gavi who was staring at you, the two of you making idle conversation about your trip and your show and his upcoming matches. He looked at you with so much love and affection that it made you blush, turning you into a much more shy and cuddly mess than people were used to. The sexy and strong power couple were now just a bunch of teenagers giggling and kicking their feet on instagram live. A strand of hair fell in your face, and Gavi reached out to his phone before remembering he couldn’t sweep it from your eyes on a different continent.

“Princesa, from now on, no filming on location unless I can come.”

“Why Pablito? Can’t live without me?” You teased, expecting a sharp reaction.

“Correct. Im literally itching and shaking from withdrawal. I love you and miss you come back faster.”

The chat got so overwhelmed they crashed the live.

~~~

Hey guys! Hope y’all enjoyed this little imagine. Ik not everybody wants super long works, but I don’t know how to write fast or short so then things sit in my inbox forever. So here’s to length variation!! Love y’all, time to take a nap.

[freeuselandonorris]

☰ for Monday, with the “who did this to you” trope? Love your fics <33

(from the fic ask game)

HI ANON i am so sorry this has taken me a million years to answer, i started weirdly overthinking it??

my understanding of the ‘who did this to you?’ trope is it’s very hurt/comfort-centric, which is not a genre i write very often (hence probably why i overthought this for so long lmao).

if i was to approach a remix of monday from this angle i think i’d like to do it from lando POV and explore more of why he’s so insecure and why it takes him so long to trust that oscar genuinely really likes him and isn’t just looking for a quick fuck to take the edge off. there’d be more of a focus on lando’s past relationships and in particular how he went from being a slightly nerdy kid (like, he looked twelve until he was about twenty) to suddenly being a millionaire heartthrob with a huge social media following. but he also self-describes as a simp (in the lando norris vs slang video) and clearly wants to be in a “real” relationship rather than just fucking about, so i’d look at what happened to him to make him so cautious with his heart.

proooobably this would end up with past dando or carlando? i have a mild aversion to carlos so i’d probably go for fuckboy daniel ngl.

i think it’d take oscar quite a long time to actually get round to asking lando what happened — partly because he’s got a bit of an attitude of “well, lando will tell me in his own time if it’s important to him” but also because there’s a bit of him that doesn’t really want to know, especially because he’s got a pretty good idea it involves another driver. he’d probably bring it up pretty idly, in the end — lando would make some veiled comment about how netflix would have creamed their collective pants if they’d known the half of it while oscar’s scrolling past DTS trying to find something to watch, and oscar would very casually… actually, y’know what.

Lando feels Oscar go still next to him and mentally kicks himself. Might’ve known Oscar wouldn’t let that one drop.

“So are you, like.” Oscar wets his lips and shifts on the bed, curling up so Lando’s tucked further into his chest. Lando presses himself back, drawing Oscar’s arm around him. “I dunno. Did something happen? With Dan.”

Lando closes his eyes, considers his options. It’s tempting to squirm back against Oscar’s body, press his arse into his crotch and slip Oscar’s hand under the hem of his T-shirt until he forgets the line of questioning, forgets he was saying anything at all. It’s mad, really, the way he responds: Lando only has to pull his shirt up, bite his lip a certain way, and he’ll have Oscar distracted and reaching for him, even now. It’s been months. Lando’s experienced it before, that first flush of desire when he can use his body to control how someone feels about him. It rarely lasts, though, once the novelty wears off.

Which is sort of the point.

He sighs, aware it sounds a bit huffy, and picks up his phone so he can flick through his notifications while he speaks. “I mean, I guess? It was just stupid, though.”

Oscar breathes behind him, slow and deliberate. He hums into Lando’s hair, strokes a thumb over the ticklish spot on Lando’s waist, the dip just above the ridge of muscle that delineates his hip.

Lando swipes through notifs from Discord, Instagram, iMessage, WhatsApp, Reddit, Sky Sport. Dismissing each without seeing it. He laughs, and it comes out all wrong, harsh in the back of his throat and defensive. God. Wet as fuck. “It was just — I mean, he was fucking miserable, you saw him. So I guess he just wanted a pick-me-up, y’know.”

“Right,” Oscar says, voice unreadable. He’s so fucking blank sometimes. Lando fights the urge to turn round and scrutinise his face, opens his emails instead and starts deleting anything that doesn’t look vital.

“He said,” Lando says, aiming to deliver it as a joke. “‘I’m straight, but I bet you suck dick like a girl anyway’. Like. What does that even mean?”

Oscar’s thumb stills, just for a moment, then resumes its slow path. “I know that’s offensive, but I can’t tell if it’s sexist or homophobic or both.”

Lando makes a disgruntled sound of agreement. “Yeah, well, whatever. It was — whatever. Wasn’t anything.”

“You said,” Oscar says mildly. “But I can see why you’d… Why it’d make you cautious.”

Lando sighs. Thinks of Luisa, showing him screenshots, her face streaked with tears. Watching the comments roll in, badly spelled threats he didn’t even bother reporting. The way Carlos never quite relaxed around him once people started tagging them in stupid ship videos. Googling how do you make someone sign an nda locked in an unfamiliar bathroom, mouth sour with vodka, head spinning. Waking up at 5am in lockdown, Max hyperventilating next to him. The girl from Raya he’d sent flowers to, trying to do the thing properly and be romantic, only to find she’d blocked him ten minutes after he got the Your package was successfully delivered email.

“It wasn’t him,” Lando says, locking his phone and putting it face down on the nightstand. He turns, tangling his legs between Oscar’s and leaning in to nip at his jaw, breathing in the familiar smell of Oscar’s basic aftershave. Oscar's arms tighten around him. His cheeks curve into a smile beneath Lando's mouth. “It doesn’t matter.”