#also thank you! i’m unfortunately not feeling much better but i appreciate u!

[stevenose]

thinking about fall with camboy steve, kissing his tummy, nuzzling his happy trail, leisurely sucking his cock as my head lays on his tummy while we watch a movie, scratching his back as he lays on top of me after cumming in me bc he went feral over my halloween costume, him holding me close from behind and fucking me while the cinnamon snickerdoodles bake bc the thank you hug and kiss on the neck got out of hand, putting my hands under his sweater to hold his hip or touch his slutty little waist, other fall things, etc.

also hope you’re feeling better angel!!!

god you get him. you just get him so much 🫶🏻

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

Nothing is funnier to me than being incredibly self aware and still acting a fool. Taking an L across the board

[cinnamostar]

six dates to fall in love

part one. part two (here). part three. part four. part five. part six coming soon.

pairing : hyunjin x gn!reader

summary : after a two year long unspoken hatred, hyunjin and you are forced to be costars in a romantic series, but when it comes to filming any of the romance scenes, you both utterly fail and are unable to get through your lines. the director threatens to take your roles away if you two aren't able to get past this within the next week, which spawns the genius idea from both your managers: can you learn to (fake) fall in love in seven dates and save your careers?

wc : 2.3k

cw : actor!au, enemies to lovers ?!, slowburn (?!), cursing, one gorey joke thing, arguing, angsty, they're each other's biggest haters, let me know if i missed anything !!

a/n : this parts shorter unfortunately but i hope u like it! likes, reblogs, and feedback appreciated. pls read part one first if you havent! well. now theres a whole new hurdle for these two to conquer heh... this part is a lot shorter, so sorry for that but i felt like it was best to keep it at this length :o

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“He said what?” Chan asked, shock coloring his voice as you updated him on the night’s events, and how absolutely insufferable Hyunjin was.

“I’m telling you, that guy’s a dickhead,” you mumbled angrily on the phone, shuffling through your apartment as you discarded your outfit and headed into the shower.

Chan took in a deep breath from the other side of the line, “Well, I knew that already, but that was just a new low.” You hummed in agreement, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, whatever. I just have a bad feeling this isn’t going to work out in our favor.”

“You never know, maybe tomorrow will go a lot better, Y/N!” 

You smiled at Chan’s attempts to lighten the mood, “I seriously doubt it, but I will try to put my faith in you and this plan of yours,” you sighed, “Well, I’m going to shower and go to bed, thanks for listening.”

“Always, Y/N. Tomorrow will be better, okay?”

“Right, good night, Chan.”

“Good night!”

God, you could only hope that Chan was right.

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You were definitely having a severe case of deja vu as you sat at your local coffee shop, a pistachio latte in hand as you waited for Hyunjin to arrive for your second date of the week. You both had agreed over text this morning that you’d meet at 12:30pm, but it was nearly 1pm and there was no sign of Hyunjin. Great, you thought to yourself, as it seems like his inconsideration was not limited to just your feelings, but also your time. 

He most definitely was doing this on purpose, there was no way this wasn’t just one of his other tactics to get under your skin before even arriving. Was this how every date was going to be like this entire week? You wasting fifteen to thirty minutes of your life waiting for some conceited asshole to make it, even though he was the one to pick and agree on a time. This was ridiculous, and you couldn’t help but feel peeved as you watched the cafe’s clock tick by, mentally noting how much time had passed at every minute. Maybe it was best to go home, maybe this whole dating thing wasn’t going to work out and it was best to just cut your losses.

Right, going home sounded nice and at least you wouldn’t be losing time on some bumbling idiot. You let out a sharp exhale as you stood up, grabbing your bag and drink to make your way out, but as you turned around, you were met with Hyunjin, who was standing a few feet away from your table with his own drink in hand.

With an eyebrow cocked up, he mockingly cooed, “Aw, you were going to ditch me on our date?”

You rolled your eyes in frustration, an exasperated sigh escaping you as you sluimped back in your seat, motioning Hyunjin to take his seat with a hint of sass in your gestures, “Oh, right, I was the one ditching you, not the other way around.”

“I did not ditch you, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You’re thirty minutes late, Hwang,” you deadpanned.

“Better late than never, no?” he smirked, taking delight in how easy it was to rile you up with such little effort on his end.

You pursed your lips as you glared at the man who sat across from you, a small ‘hmph’ leaving you, “Whatever.”

Much like the day before, the familiar tense atmosphere took its place once more as you both sat quietly in your own seats, occasionally taking a sip of coffee every now and then. Having Hyunjin in your company was torturous, it was almost as if he held you captive in the most miserable week of your life and he made no attempt to make it the least bit enjoyable.

You, once more, decided to remain quiet, allowing Hyunjin to be the one to make any conversation since he seemed to be the one struggling the most with this arrangement. It was best to let him go at his own speed, right? Although that did not stop the displeased look from leaving your features, your eyebrows remained furrowed since the moment you were made aware of his presence.

Hyunjin let out a gentle huff, placing his drink down as he analyzed yor features, “Do you always have this much attitude?”

Rolling your eyes, you responded sternly, “When it comes to you, yes.”

“Right, because I’m the problem,” murmured Hyunjin sarcastically.

“Glad you know.”

Hyunjin bit the inside of his cheek, lost in thought as he tried to figure out the right string of words to say, ones that wouldn’t kindle the already burning heat of hatred you had for him. The silence was unbearably uncomfortable, restricting him of any chance to catch his breath as anxiety and trepidation took over him. He despised this, he hated having to always be on guard around you and it was getting overwhelming, despite it only being the second day of this so-called plan. Hyunjin wasn’t dumb though, while he may be upset with these current circumstances, he would be an idiot to not take advantage of it. His plan was simple, all he had to do was get under your skin as much as he can throughout this week in hopes you’d decide to drop out of the project altogether, which would mean he would no longer have to worry about getting kicked off the shoot if they only had to replace you, he thought.

Unfortunately, you were as hard-headed as a bull, bulldozing over any hope Hyunjin had as your stubbornness made itself apparent through your countless attempts to speak to him last night. Though, something had to be working, he thought, as you reached a standstill of quietness in the middle of this bustling coffee shop. 

The coffee shop was brimming with life, fellow patrons laughing with their company and baristas shouting out names to orders as the espresso machines and blenders whirred in the background. It was a relaxing, welcoming, and cozy environment which sharply juxtaposed the energy emanating off you and Hyunjin. If anything, you and Hyunjin would be more fitting standing outside in the cold, icy, and piercing winter winds as you exchanged hardened gazes, neither wavering from their stance. Anyone who stepped within a three foot radius of you both would feel instant chills due to the intensity of the situation, yet, everyone was too absorbed in their own world to pay attention to the mental battle you and Hyunjin were engaged in. 

“What did I ever do to you?”

The sudden question surprised Hyunjin, effectively drawing him out of his stupor as his gaze softened at the vulnerability in your tone and the slight quiver to your voice, though your features remained in the permanent scowl that seemed to falter ever-so slightly. This was new, this was something Hyunjin had never seen from you before and it made his heart ache to hear the confusion and uncertainty reverberate from your words. This show of weakness from you should be something he celebrates though, this means his attempts to push you away from this project had to be working, yet why did he feel so guilty? Why did he feel his stomach drop slightly when he heard you tremble over your words? Moreso, why were you asking him that?

Hyunjin’s face contorted with perplexity, “You’re seriously asking that?”

Your frown changed into one of curiosity, not entirely understanding what Hyunjin meant by his question, “... What?” 

Hyunjin could only return your confused gaze, your cluelessness only seemed to light a fire under him as fury began to settle in his eyes, “You’re joking, right?”

Taken aback, your mouth struggled to form any words as your brain tried to rack through your memories, searching for a moment in time that you could’ve upset or hurt Hyunjin back then, but there was nothing. You were drawing a blank and could only wonder what you could’ve possibly done to cause this kind of rage in Hyunjin. You spoke cautiously, afraid the wrong words could escalate the situation as you desperately did not want to call attention to you two, “I’m sorry… I don’t… know what you’re talking about.”

Hyunjin could only wear a baffled look in his face, scanning your eyes to only find you were being truthful, no sign of deceit and you were not feigning ignorance, you were genuinely lost at his sudden outburst. He couldn’t believe it, had his version of reality been entirely false this whole time? Up to this point, he had scrutinized you as a villain, one of the worst in the industry, yet the thread that held this belief was quickly unraveling as he took in the innocence your eyes conveyed, a silent plea for him to not doubt your honesty.

“Weren’t you the one…” Hyunjin questioned, uncertainty in his voice, “Didn’t you sabotage me from getting that role on Director Han’s project?”

“Huh?” 

That was all you could muster out, your jaw dropping at the sudden accusation, “What the fuck are you talking about, Hwang?”

“I saw you talking to him on the set of your first film project together! Just a few days after my audition,” he spoke firmly, doing his best to remain steadfast in his perception of events.

“Yes, I did speak to him. In fact, Hyunjin,” you spat his name out, anger burning in your eyes as you tried to keep your voice down, “I was telling him how much of a joy you were to work with and was recommending him to cast you.”

“You’re lying.”

You stood up suddenly from your seat, hands flat against the table, refusing to listen to Hyunjin’s fictitious words and accusations as you felt yourself ready to explode, struggling to keep the heated discontentment you felt contained. Has this really been the reason why Hyunjin had been so cruel to you all these years? Over some dumb hunch that had no weight to it, no proof other than it being a convenient explanation? Was it simply easier for him to frame you rather than accept someone with more talent landed the role? It took everything within you not to slap Hyunjin across the face as you seethed in your rage, trying to make sense of everything that had occurred since that time. 

Of course, missing out on the role was absolutely heartbreaking for Hyunjin, as that film ended up being a blockbuster success and would’ve launched his acting career in a way so many could only dream of. Though, it absolutely wasn’t your fault that the director decided to cast a more experienced and already established actor, one whose name alone would’ve bought the film instant success.

“Right, I am so lying. Because there’s absolutely no way in hell they decided to cast someone who was just a better actor, right? It’s all my fault because of course, the great Hwang Hyunjin could never be a failure.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, studying his reaction as he remained frozen in his seat, a conflicted expression on his face as he tried to process your words. However, Hyunjin was a deeply insecure individual, one who needed constant praise to feel any bit of confidence in his ability to perform and he was quick to become defensive when it came to facing failure. Perhaps that is why he was so sure to blame you without second thought, someone who was such a stark polar opposite from him, someone who had all the confidence of the world in themselves, someone he absolutely envied and grew to hate over some theory he piped up to cope with his own shortcomings. 

You scoffed at his lack of response, muttering, “Unbelievable.”

Yet, you cannot expect someone to just back down from their version of events that they upheld as truth for so long. He had spent two years believing this, and how could he ever be so sure that you weren’t just lying to him in his face? What if you were just trying to maintain your image through lies? Though, something about the expression you wore told him that was not possible, but his own selfishness refused to let him fully accept that. 

“I don’t believe you,” was all Hyunjin could say, stubbornly holding onto the reality he had unknowingly fabricated as he did his best to ignore the hurt in your eyes.

“Why would I lie to you about that? Why would I have ever done that to you?” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes as your frustration was finally getting the best of you. 

Finally uncovering the truth behind Hyunjin’s hatred towards you was not as satisfying or relieving as you had always imagined it to be. The growing indignation you felt was overwhelming, you were losing control of your own body and emotions, control slipping between your fingers like grains of sand as another wave of emotions began to make itself known. It pained you to know Hyunjin had thought so poorly of you for so long, your heart aching at the thought of him thinking you’d do something so terrible to him. 

The molten lava of anger that flowed through your veins finally met the cool, tumultuous sadness your heart took on, turning into stone as the emotions fought with one another for dominance, but the heavy weight of cobble filled in the cracks of your resolve and urged you to maintain your composure. 

You shook your head at Hyunjin, who still remained still in his seat, and without a word, you turned to leave the coffee shop, abandoning this stupid date idea your manager had conjured up from whatever demented reasonings he had. Maybe you should have left earlier, maybe it was best to cut your losses and accept defeat. All you had now was an unquenchable amount of anger that no amount of water would ever be able to fully put out, and this only intensified your dislike for Hyunjin.

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taglist: @kopikokrunch @icouldntcareless22 @kidrauhlschik @hhwangsmoon

**taglist will be closed at twenty users

[gay-slime]

Goodbye post :]

Hello & also - goodbye!

This is a formal post to mark this account as an archive - aka I’m just gonna be logging out & not deleting it for sentimentality reasons (also technically my main and other sides, granted they’re all tied together)

Thank you all for the support, there have been a lot of times in these past 7 years where I wouldn’t have been nearly as safe if it wasn’t for yalls help. Doing commissions & getting donos ocassionally through this account has saved me on multiple occasions; ranging from homelessness, feeding my cats, textbook/college tuition, and other situations I don’t know how I would have fared in if I had no income at the time. I seriously can’t explain how much this blog and all of you meant for me during such a painful & dangerous period of my life.

If for whatever reason you would like to get in contact; be it for commissions or anything else - my old art insta @CartoonyEyes will be the only way to reach me after tomorrow.

~

More context for my leaving below for the sake of getting it off my chest, but content warning for general mentions of abuse.

~

When I first made this account in highschool, I was going through some pretty horrific abuse at home, and I wasn’t ever really in a good state of mind during its prime. This blog was a form of escapism that made me feel seen, appreciated, and happy at a time in my life where I wasn’t getting that anywhere else. Because of that & my general naivety due to active grooming at the time, I also made a lot of ignorant shitty decisions, and had a lot of wild overreactions on here. Unfortunately, every post has a memory behind it, and despite the fact that I’ve done my best to scrub this blog of those old behaviors and posts- I still know at one point they existed. I can’t expect myself to comb through 7+ years of untagged posts, but I also don’t want to lose everything I posted here - it was such an important moment in my life. I have since left the shitty home situation, and I’m in MUCH better circumstances and spirits these days - but I still find myself not wanting to post because I’m anxious of possibly having some cringe ass behavior brought back up from a time where I should have known better, but didn’t.

That all being said, I will be remaking a new tumblr and a new side minecraft blog - I just won’t be directly associating it back to this account. Fresh slate kinda thing, even though there’s really no such thing on the internet. It’s just a little more distance between me and a period of my life I’d rather not have reminding of every time I look at my notifications. If you notice a new blog might be me? No u don’t!

Thank you, and toodles!

-Oli

[rubynationwins]

Wanna Be Yours

Sugar baby! Bucky Barnes x Plus size! Reader

Summary: You don’t have a problem letting Bucky see other people, but Bucky wants to tell you that you’re all he needs.

Main Masterlist

Warnings: angst, fluff, pining, jealous! bucky, dirty talk/thoughts, swearing, Bucky is in his mid-late 20s

Word Count: 2,816

A/N: I’m very excited to be posting a fic, I feel like it’s been forever since I last posted one! I’ve had this in my wips for quite a while now, but didn’t work on it because I felt guilty for not posting my other fics that are sequels/parts of series first. But those are still far from being done(I’ve kinda also been struggling w/ writing them oof), so I shifted gears and edited this one & feel very pleased w/ how it came out! I love this concept, and I hope you all are into this pairing/dynamic because it’s a little different than my others. Like, comment, reblog, I always appreciate feedback so plz let me know what u think!

This story should not be posted anywhere else without my express permission.

Thanks for reading!

-Ruby

You don’t keep Bucky – or James, as you call him – on a very short leash. You don’t want him to feel tied down when he’s at such a pivotal age for young, virile men like himself. He should be able to explore and enjoy his youth with partners he doesn’t feel obligated to be with. This isn’t your first sugar relationship, so you’re plenty aware that young men don’t want to only be with you; which is something you learned the hard way. It’s better to let them live their lives with predetermined rules instead of getting cheated on by men who don’t have the balls to tell you they need more than you have to offer.

So, with Bucky, you made your expectations clear from the start. He can sleep with whoever he wants as long as he’s safe, uses protection, gets checked regularly, and always puts you first; and in turn, you give him whatever he desires. Lucky for you, he has stuck to your rules and made good on his promise to be by your side when you need him. Honesty, communication, and companionship, that’s all you really need, nothing more. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

------------------------------------------------

“James-”

Bucky spins around from the mirror he was checking his hair in and sucks in a breath. You are standing in the doorway of the bathroom with a playful smirk on your painted red lips.

“If you keep messing with your hair it’s going to fall out,” you give him a once over, “You look beautiful, darling.” And he does. He is absolutely stunning in his navy suit, a simple dark grey turtleneck underneath with a gold chain loose around his neck. It’s the one you bought him for your 6-month anniversary last month. Technically, you paid for the entire outfit he’s currently donning, but you personally picked out the chain yourself. It matches the slim bracelet that’s dangling around your wrist.

Bucky blushes lightly under your sharp gaze. He doesn’t know why, but a flutter erupts in his belly every time you compliment him. He never gets so worked up when others flatter him, only you.

“Right back at ya’ doll,” he flashes a wolfish smile, “you sure we have to go to this event? How ‘bout instead I get you out of that dress and we head to the bedroom because I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna keep my hands off you in that thing.”

Not too long ago you would have thought he was all talk, but Bucky has proven just how much he adores your body – curves and all. You can’t help but agree with his statement anyway, you look absolutely banging in your elegant Theia gown. The deep fuchsia color complements your complexion perfectly and the way it hugs your curves is like sin. The side slit stops just at mid-thigh and the off-the-shoulder straps mean your neckline is on full display. The way his eyes flash as they take it all in sends heat straight to your core, but unfortunately, you’re on a time crunch.

“As tempting as your offer is, James, I can’t miss this one. It’s a company celebration, and as the newest member of the board, it’s vital that I be there.” You gently grasp his hand and lean into the warmth of his large, muscled body, placing a modest peck on his cheek, “But since you’re going to be with me, I know the night will fly by. Before you know it, we’ll be back here and you can help me with this damn zipper.” You chuckle, winking playfully before walking away to grab your clutch resting on the table a few feet away.

Bucky’s pupils are like black saucers as he stares longingly at your ass as you bend over to slip on your shoes. As much as he wants to ignore your words and shove you up against the nearest wall and fuck you in that delectable dress, he knows that your work life is important to you, so he restrains himself – for now.

“Alright, doll.” He holds his arm out for you to take and you wrap yours around it, feeling the hard metal underneath the fabric of his suit jacket. “As long as you promise to help me out of my pants as well.”

You gasp and hit his shoulder playfully, “James!”

He shoots you a shit-eating grin and walks to the door with you hanging on his arm, your soft body melding into his.

Tonight is going to be great.

------------------------------------------------

Tonight has been crap.

Bucky sulks at the bar, toying with a toothpick and sipping at his glass of brandy. Again, he glances over to where you stand surrounded by a group of coworkers, all of whom are men.

Shit.

He downs the remaining contents of his glass and motions to the bartender for another before going back to glaring at your little posse. He isn’t mad at you though, well, not that much. No, he’s pissed off at the slime-balls crowding you. Don’t they have their own dates to ogle at? Why did they have to steal you away as soon as you both stepped into the ballroom with the pretense of “private business matters”?

Turns out, those “private business matters” are getting you drunk and blustering about your many achievements and how lucky they are to have you on the board. Bucky knows his jealousy is misplaced. He, above everyone here, knows how hard you worked to get this position. You are the youngest person, and the only woman, to ever become a board member. He’s damn proud of you, in fact.

Still, he can tell these sleazy old men don’t give a damn about your work, not with the way they all stare at you like some kind of meal for them to devour. Bucky respects your boundaries and your work life, but how is he supposed to sit back when the tall shit-head with graying blonde hair on your right, who has easy access to getting a peep at your cleavage, keeps touching your arm? Can’t you see what they’re up to? Or are you being deliberately obtuse just to ruffle his feathers?

You wouldn’t do that though. Even if you were flirting with these geezers, which Bucky’s sure you’re not, you wouldn’t do it to get a rise out of him because you wouldn’t think it possible. You’ve never said it outright, but Bucky knows you don’t think he minds when you talk to other men. He does though, he fucking minds a lot.

How can he blame you for it, though? You made it abundantly clear at the start of your relationship that it was fine for him to see other women, even if he wasn’t the least bit interested in anyone else, not from the moment he laid eyes on you. When he tried to argue that you didn’t have anything to worry about – that he didn’t want anyone besides you – you shut him down completely, saying there was no room for argument, that he either accept the terms, or you wouldn’t be able to see him again.

Bucky wanted to strangle every selfish, fucker that made you go to such lengths to feel comfortable in a relationship. Of course, he conceded to your stipulations, there was no way around it, he needed to be with you. But, if you didn’t care if he fucked other people, how could he possibly demand that you only have eyes for him?

Still, though, it was taking all his strength to not rush forward and sweep you away from the group of lechers, and maybe kick a few of them in the nuts for good measure.

A new drink is placed before him and he knocks it back immediately. When he turns back around to continue stalking you from afar, his blood runs cold.

The other members of your group are gone and now it’s just you and blondie talking. The bastard says something and you laugh, reaching up and squeezing his arm, swaying on your feet. He places his hands on your plush hips to, supposedly, stabilize you. All the while, pulling you in much closer than necessary.

Bucky is out of his seat and at your side in a split second. He grabs the offending man’s wrists and yanks them off of you, “Watch where you’re touching, pal.” His threat comes out in a low growl and he pulls you to him, his grip tight around your waist.

“James? What are you doing here?” You hiccup, eyes hazy as they blink up at him. Your surprise at his presence sends a pang through Bucky’s heart. Had you so easily forgotten about him?

Even so, no man touches what’s his.

Bucky takes a step back, bringing you with him, and leans down to your ear, gritting his teeth together in a faux smile, “I’m here because I think it’s time we go. You’ve had too much to drink, doll,” he speaks lowly so only you can hear. He knows his words are a bit too harsh and his tone a little too strained, but he can’t shake the defensive anger coursing through his veins.

The blonde man, who for some reason is still standing there with a strangely satisfied smirk on his lips chooses that very moment to speak up, “So you’re James? Nice to meet you,” he reaches out for a handshake, seemingly unfazed by the murderous glint in Bucky’s eyes. Bucky outright ignores his proffered hand, but the finely clad man brushes off the rebuff and casually slides his hand into his pants pocket, “Y/N talks about you all the time. I can see why, you’re a nice-looking kid.”

He wants to punch the callous grin off of the old asshole’s face, but you snort, “Tod, quit it, stop teasing him.” Bucky’s jaw tightens, you didn’t say he’s not a kid. Bucky hates feeling unworthy of you; like he doesn’t belong at your side. He may be young, but he has just as much right as any to call himself yours.

Tod cracks a smile, “Ha, alright, I’ll see you on Monday, Y/N.” He nods his head at you in goodbye and moves to leave. But when he passes Bucky’s shoulder, he leans in and whispers, “Better get her home quick, son. Don’t you have a curfew to worry about?” He chuckles to himself when he catches Bucky’s seething face, not at all intimidated by the rage flaring in the younger man’s blue eyes. With those final parting words, Tod walks off, lucky to not have a bruise the size of Bucky’s left fist on his smarmy face, in Bucky’s opinion.

Bucky breathes heavily, trying not to run after the guy to show him where he can stick his fucking curfew bullshit. Instead, he switches his focus back to you. You’re leaning into him, your usually calculating eyes spacey and a goofy smile plays on your lips. He frowns, you normally don’t drink so much, “What the hell did you get yourself into, doll?” This time his voice is softer, worried, but less biting.

You glance up at him, your eyebrows furrowed, but once you understand what he’s asking, you let out an uncharacteristic giggle, “To celebrate, we did some shots, I don’t remember how many I had,” your words are slow and nonchalant, as if you are actively trying not to slur them together, “Anyway, why are you upset, darling? I thought I told you to find some guys your own age to chat with. I knew you wouldn’t be interested in all our boring old business talk.” As you talk, Bucky hurries you to the exit, only pausing at the coat check to grab your things. He messages your driver to be out front in five.

“Guys my age?” His tone is bitter but you’re oblivious to his simmering indignation.

“Yeah! It’s a party for mostly higher-ups, but a few of them brought their sons, and some brought their daughters too,” you give him a sly wink at that. Bucky just stands there in front of the decorated driveway, trying to temper the many unsavory responses he wants to make at your last remark. His arm is wrapped around your full waist, clutching you to his side. He stays silent as your car finally pulls up, the driver not bothering to hop out since Bucky already has the back door open before he even rolls to a complete stop. Bucky ushers you into the backseat before sliding in after you.

The partition is already rolled up so he turns to you, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “Daughters?”

You scrunch up your face, confused by his questioning, “Yeah, I’ve met some of them. Mr. & Mrs. Willson’s daughter, Sarah, is a real looker. I think you’d like her, she’s just your type, and then there’s Melina’s daughter, Nata-”

“I don’t understand.” Bucky stares at you, trying to mask the hurt in his chest, “Were you trying to get rid of me? I came here tonight to be with you. Why would I want to spend it with some other girl? Why did you spend it with other men? Y/N, I-I don’t know what you want from me, why would you-” His tone has turned accusatory and befuddled. He wants to come clean, to shout that he doesn’t give a shit about other women, but the words are caught in his throat. He’s too much of a coward to speak them aloud.

You shush him, shaking your head, a placating smile on your red lips, “James, I don’t know why you’re getting so riled up, but stop. I just want to enjoy the rest of the car ride home with you, please, I’m tired.” You kick off your heels and relax your head against his shoulder; placing your soft hand in his. He gazes at your lovely face as you play with his metal fingers. The flashing lights that fill the car as it passes underneath brightly lit billboards and dim streetlamps cast fluttering shadows around your ethereal features. His chest fills with a sentiment he doesn’t know how to describe, one he’s maybe too scared to unpack. Your eyes drift shut and your hands still in his, as your soft snores fill the interior of the car. Bucky places a gentle kiss on the top of your head, soaking up your rich perfume.

When the car arrives back home, Bucky carries your sleeping form inside, hugging your plush body to his chest. He lays you down on the bed and goes to work getting you ready for sleep. He knows you wouldn’t want to go to sleep with makeup on, so he grabs a makeup wipe from with bathroom and removes your still pristine look. Bucky loves the power and confidence makeup gives you, but he adores your fresh face, which he doesn’t often get to see.

You tend to keep him at a distance, only letting him see parts of you, not allowing yourself to be “messy” in his presence. Again, there's that foreign panging in his heart. It feels like there is a wall between the two of you, one that you purposefully set up, Bucky’s afraid he’s never going to break it down. Even tonight, when you were fairly drunk, you held a certain air of professionalism about you, so to speak.

You always have to be in control and Bucky wishes that you would just let him be the one to shoulder the burden for once. It’s like you think he’ll abandon you if you ask him to commit more to your relationship. You just don’t know how much he craves you when you tell him he has the “weekend off”, or that he only has to come to events “if he wants to”. You may think you’re letting him have “freedom” and not feel “tied down”, but in reality, you’re denying him the time and companionship that he so desires from you. Bucky wants you to demand more of him, to expect more from him. He sure wants more of you; however he can get it.

What if all you ever want is just a good time and a good lay with a young, pretty face? A few months ago he might have been satisfied with that, but now he wants more. And he is terrified to ask for it.

He finishes cleaning your face and even has the mind to put moisturizer on you since you live and breathe the stuff. He unzips your gown and pulls it off your body. After taking a moment to appreciate the majesty of your body, he goes and hangs the dress back in the closet before coming back out with one of your pajama sets.

He removes your strapless bra and slides the soft, silk pajama top over your chest. You have shapewear on so he shimmies you out of it, which is a little challenging he’ll admit. He has no clue why you wear the restricting stuff. You say it’s to have a smooth base for your tighter garments to rest on, but he suspects there might be more to it. Either way, it’s your body and he gets to appreciate it with and without the shapewear on, so he’s plenty satisfied.

After he gets your pajama bottoms on, he quickly changes into a pair of boxers, not bothering with a shirt. He shuffles into bed beside you, pulling the covers over you both. He hugs you to his chest, trying to get the feeling of dread to leave his subconscious. You’re here in his arms, and that is enough. It has to be.

[supercutszns]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

i loveee this omg i’ve gotten this ask a few times thank u all sm i love u☹️☹️ i’ve only published like 7 pieces of writing on here so far so i’ll also be pulling stuff from my wp (jackboxes) bc i’m proud of the stuff on there as well! also these r in no particular order lol

1. twin beads (luke castellan) | my most recent work on here, besties to lovers with a poseidon! reader & a sibling relationship with percy<3 i actually love this one so much😭😭 my favourite trope and there are lots of lines in here i love—the paragraph when luke’s lying next to reader and she’s talking abt how nostalgic he feels i love them i fear.

2. true colours (luke castellan) | daughter of iris! reader that loves to paint is petrified her friend doesn’t like her back. luke’s willing to prove that’s not the case. this is i think my most,,,popular fic on here??? which surprises me to this day??? of all the ones i’ve written i feel like this one got me to the most people which is fucking whack bc i thought i phoned this one in so hard lol. got a newfound appreciation for it once i saw how many ppl related to it, made me feel better bc reader is so mecoded too <3 she’s got some self-esteem issues and a weird knee but she sees the world in colour and she’s adorbs. i’m very happy this one is well loved

3. hellstorm (douxie casperan) | haven’t updated this one in a while unfortunately but this is a beloved wattpad fic💔 i love niche fandoms sorry! storm is just a fun character to write she is a wet feral cat and i love her dearly! i really need to continue this bc i have detailed lore planned and i just love found family. hellstorm my beloved

4. rotten to the touch (luke castellan) | really need the inspo to pick back up for this one but idk i just love horrible sexy people there’s really not much else to it. i would love to make this a full blown series but idk if i have it in me but im trying to work on a little blurb for them so hopefully that goes out

5. frostfire (avatar: the last airbender) | to be honest this is the closest thing to a magnum opus i have. started writing it four years ago still nowhere near finished. 26k reads. three main characters three love interests three separate plot lines. gays. grief. gruelling exposition. it’s so ass but means so much to me. my friend drew art of the characters. it’s been translated into spanish. people have found it through tiktok. it is not half as good as it could be but i love it so so dearly and is probably my favourite thing ever. i don’t care. it’s mine. i will finish it. i have to.

okayyy anyways that’s it i’m so deeply sorry for being so inactive my current romantic relationship is grinding to a slow halt so everything feels joyless and repulsive. but hopefully the more i try to write the better it’ll get i love u all

[wakemeupinmay]

My thoughts on the Eurovision songs this year

1. 🇦🇱 Albania - Duje - Albina & Familja Kelmendi

VERY dramatic, but I could shake my ass to the part in which she isn’t singing

2. 🇦🇲 Armenia - Future Lover - Brunette

„I just wanna make art, read books, be loved and called a good girl“ okay ma'am that’s everyone ur not special

3. 🇦🇺 Australia - Promise - Voyager

Do we know why they are headbanging this much? It couldn’t be bc of this song right?

4. 🇦🇹 Austria - Who the hell is Edgar? - Teya & Salena

Not often is a song made spicier by adding some church singing

5. 🇦🇿 Azerbaijan - Tell me more - TuralTuranX

I have just watched the video for the third time and I start to suspect that there is more than one guy singing, I could be wrong tho

6. 🇧🇪 Belgium - Because of you - Gustaph

He looks like a gay musketeer + weirdly enough this song doesn’t make me want to dance, it makes me want to walk???

7. 🇭🇷 Croatia - Mama ŠČ - Let 3

Thankfully for them I love chaos and not knowing what is going on, BUT I did get scared for a second when they undressed

8. 🇨🇾 Cyprus - Break a broken heart - Andrew Lambrou

I am mesmerized but that won’t get me to like the song :/

9. 🇨🇿 Czechia - My sister‘s crown - Vesna

Idk guys, is this a good song or does it just have a good message? It doesn’t bop for me, I’m so sorry I tried

10. 🇩🇰 Denmark - Breaking my heart - Reiley

Okay, do we also have a version in which we can hear his voice in the chorus better? Thanks, the distorted one playing over his singing is a no no. I dig the outfit tho 10/10 very cute

11. 🇪🇪 Estonia - Bridges - Alika

Don’t worry guys, Estonia is bringing the compulsory piano to the contest this year

12. 🇫🇮 Finland - Cha Cha Cha - Käärijä

Very entertaining and very eurovision by the hulk goblin king, very appreciated by me :)

13. 🇫🇷 France - Évidemment - La Zarra

This. woman. has. the. most. snatched. waist. I. have. ever. seen. Other than that, once again France does what it does best, which is being french

14. 🇬🇪 Georgia - Echo - Iru

Did she get turned into a white worm halfway through? + They surely get the award of „lyrics that make the least sense“ this year. „THIS FEELING IS LORD“

15. 🇩🇪 Germany - Blood & Glitter - Lord of the lost

So happy for Germany leaving its shell for once but maybe reconsider the red latex suit. Otherwise they are really cute and make me smile

16. 🇬🇷 Greece - What they say - Victor Vernicos

How did Greece get Tom Shelby’s son dressed like a school boy from the 1940ies to sing about his hurt feelings?

17. 🇮🇸 Iceland - Power - Diljá

So sad Iceland couldn’t keep up the streak of rly good entries. Unfortunately this song holds no PPPPower over me

18. 🇮🇪 Ireland - We are one - Wild Youth

Don’t worry guys, our knights in shining masks are here to save us. Not rly tho, the song is not that much fun :/

19. 🇮🇱 Israel - Unicorn - Noa Kirel

A song called Unicorn has no business being this serious

20. 🇮🇹 Italy - Due vite - Marco Mengoni

What can I tell u…. It’s definitely Italys entry + Does he sound like an italian Michael Jackson???

21. 🇱🇻 Latvia - Aijā - Sudden Lights

The last time I saw lights like these on stage Germany got 0 points, be careful Latvia

22. 🇱🇹 Lithuania - Stay - Monika Linkytė

What does Čiūto tūto mean?

23. 🇲🇹 Malta - Dance (our own party) - The Busker

I see you Malta, trying to have your own little epic sax moment

24. 🇲🇩 Moldova - Soarele si Luna - Pasha Parfeni

This felt like a spiritual fever dream + gotta love the nuns in the crowd

25. 🇳🇱 Netherlands - Burning Daylight - Mia Nicolai & Dion Cooper

This song is all the stages of grief I go through once my favourite does not win eurovision

26. 🇳🇴 Norway - Queen of Kings - Alessandra

Aye aye captain we stan! BUT I would have looooved if the show (costumes, dance,…) were a cringey eurovisiony pirate thing

27. 🇵🇱 Poland - Solo - Blanka

Why is it giving parody of rich spoiled brat that thinks she can sing bc daddy said so?

28. 🇵🇹 Portugal - Ai Coração - Mimicat

I like it, it’s not a ballad and fun also she looks exactly how I would imagine a Mimicat

29. 🇷🇴 Romania - D.G.T. (Off and On) - Theodor Andrei

I didn’t expect to be going to an underage bondage strip club tonight.

30. 🇸🇲 San Marino - Like an animal - Piqued Jacks

He is giving me mixed signals. Am I sexy Aphrodite or do I stink and am poisonous? Why is he chasing me? Is that good or bad? I’m worried

31. 🇷🇸 Serbia - Samo mi she spava - Luke Black

He is very much Melovin coded but I do connect with the message an awful lot

32. 🇸🇮 Slovenia - Carpe Diem - Joker Out

It’s good, I get the hype, curious what they’ll do on stage tho

33. 🇪🇸 Spain - Eaea - Blanca Paloma

Is it allowed to perform religious rituals on stage?

34. 🇸🇪 Sweden - Tattoo - Loreen

After that huge TV fell on that one kpop performers head this performance makes me extra nervous

35. 🇨🇭 Switzerland - Watergun - Remo Forrer

Don’t worry Remo, Switzerland is one of the safest countries on earth

36. 🇺🇦 Ukraine - Heart of Steel - Tvorchi

I think I have never been more surprised by a country sending a generic pop song. Or maybe it was to be expected the most rn. It’s not bad by any means but also def not a winner and everyone knows that

37. 🇬🇧 United Kingdom - I wrote a song - Mae Muller

If I don’t see the name Mae Muller on the writing credits to this song I will absolutely throw a fit

(List of videos I watched)

[cutemeat]

no you’re so right for that, op was honestly being rude and probably didn’t expect you to see it (altho i see that they did tag it as sunny so maybe they just don’t care). when i started out, the ppl of this fandom have always been so unapologetically vocal abt their theories and interpretations, and it was so welcoming to me to see that everyone was having fun rambling into the void, knowing that we care enough abt each others’ ideas that even if we don’t always agree, we Get it. like that’s what sunnblr is for, pardon the brainrot but it comes with the territory. you were one of my first (and also only lol) sunny mutuals and i know for a fact i didn’t used to share my thoughts the way i do now before following ppl like you. PLEASE keep rambling, it is good for the soul

thank u Danny!! 🐀💘

it means a lot more to me that I have had that kind of impact where anyone feels more unapologetic n enthusiastic abt talking abt their interests n interpretations n theories! cuz I care so deeply abt that n think (esp cuz this is a space all about enthusiasm n hobbies) it is so fun to hav a place where ppl can do that!! (obv we should be mindful depending on subject matter, but just general rambling abt shit is, as u said, good for the soul 😌😌) U are also just such a creative person n i rlly admire yr style n yr skill u are just so thoughtful and intelligent so u Should be so loud n proud abt those things!! u are such a treasure n ily!!

I hold no grudge against op, cuz i do recognize this kind of thing is just apart of a larger pattern I’ve seen forever since using the internet where a lot of the internet likes to preach abt de-stigmatization n mental health awareness… but unfortunately the internet doesn’t rlly create platforms that are conducive to actually keeping that kind of thing in mind and practicing it effectively. ik that most times (since this is a problem that started in the real world n sure as hell hasnt been solved any better lmao), that unless you are just experiencing palatable symptoms like depression or anxiety… u are opening yrself up to that kind of thing, n i know that just comes with the territory of being mentally ill and havin any public account. im sure its even somewhere in the fine print of the terms n conditions that no one ever reads LOL. i try to brush it off, but it is still hurtful sometimes and so that’s why I left that reply to just explain where i’m coming from and why i left those tags in the first place. cuz again they dont know me and idk them so its not anything personal! but again ik thats sorta the game u play when u post anything yknow? like for all anonymity’s benefits, there are cons like ppl don’t Know i experience manic type symptoms or fixate excessively if they dont know me or follow me, esp when i don’t leave that stuff in my bio anymore or always post abt it so they Don’t Know. and it’s just generally very prevalent to see someone saying Wild Shit n immediately be like ‘wtf?’ n post it without rlly giving it much thought. I mean, I’ve probably done that before myself w/o rlly giving a second thought to what I was doing 😭. so I try not to take it too personally n hope ppl will be sympathetic if they do see the other person’s side of things, at least!

But again I do rlly appreciate u sending this cuz it was still very reassuring and again im rlly happy u feel more inclined to share ur thoughts after following me cuz again u are so thoughtful n passionate n i still love reading ur posts n seeing ur art abt anything u are interested in even when its not Sunny stuff, theres always so much detail in everything u do its incredible! 💖 and dont worry abt me cuz i def dont plan on stopping the rambling myself anytime soon BSJDBDJ

[alwaysbethewest]

I have very similar feelings seeing people get engaged or married now that I’m in my 30s. sometimes even watching grogu and din together makes me lonely lmao. unfortunately I have no advice or anything insightful to say, just hope we all end up with fulfilling lives and loves in whatever iteration occurs but here is another recipe to try if you need more comfort pasta, it’s one of my favorites!! bonus that it tastes even better as leftovers imo

https://www.faithwillinger.com/recipes/garbage-pail-pasta

I use kalamatas bc idk where to get gaeta olives and I use way more than the recipe because I love olives. and increase the parsley. also recommend golden raisins instead of purple. hope u enjoy and hope you get what makes you happy 💕

This is so kind, thank you ❤️ (TW for mention of a pregnancy loss—not my own—under the cut)

I went through a phase of real baby fever when I was younger, and it's waned a lot over the years but still pops up again every now and then. But at a certain point a few years ago, for various reasons, I came to the decision/realization that I most likely won't have kids and it was remarkable to me how much processing that was a kind of grieving. Like, somehow I hadn't expected it to feel like that. And it is a strange thing to see other people living out something that you have let go of for yourself—it can be hard to wrap your brain around it, I think. It sometimes feels unfair, even if those feelings aren't justified. But what's your path is yours and what's their path is theirs and it is what it is.

Anyway. One of my siblings was expecting a baby this year and the pregnancy had to be terminated for medical reasons, and I was surprised all over again by how much I cried my fucking heart out over it. The pain of that family loss is still fresh, and twice now since then I've seen a happy pregnancy announcement and immediately spiraled into really rough waters—even though the rational part of my brain is of course happy for them and I want all good healthy things for them. It just. Is hard to find the joy through the grief and jealousy. And that's how it is right now.

(And that's just baby-related, that's not even touching on the loneliness of singledom 🙃 I'm sorry you're feeling that way too. I appreciate this message so much and I hope you find your happiness too 🥰 Feel free to DM me if you ever want to chat)

[goldenhypen]

;; hoodie season. ⎯⎯ ♡

pairing ! yang jungwon x reader

genre ! fluff

wc ! 0.3k

song rec. ! hoodie season — stray kids

“take off your hoodie.”

jungwon looked at you, puzzled for a moment at your sudden order.

“what?”

“take off your hoodie,” you repeated casually.

“why?”

“because i’m cold,” you smiled innocently.

jungwon sighed, rolling his eyes lightheartedly.

even though he knew you were just being playful, he adored you, especially in times like these—because truth be told, he loved seeing you in his hoodies.

you watched as he removed his hoodie from his body, something which was always so attractive to you. that was one reason you loved receiving his hoodies, though you’d never admit it.

being the gentleman of a boyfriend he was, he helped the hoodie onto you, your head quickly popping out from the fabric, and jungwon’s eyes crinkled into a smile of adoration for you.

once you got the piece of clothing on, you sighed with a grin, more than happy to be in one of his extremely comfortable hoodies.

jungwon quickly looked you up and down, butterflies erupting in his stomach at the sight of you in his clothes, a feeling that never seemed to fade even after all this time. he couldn’t help but lean forward and place a soft and short kiss on your lips with a smile. and once he pulled back, it left you wanting more. you frowned.

noticing your sad state, jungwon chuckled before bringing you closer and kissing you more.

as he pulled back, he continued to leave a few last pecks, not only on your lips again, but also some on your cheeks, nose and forehead.

lost in the moment, even after jungwon pulled away, you were snapped back to reality when his voice started, “better?”

your eyes immediately met his, slightly out of it, “hm?”

“are you still cold?” he clarified.

you paused for a moment as you smiled, “no, i feel much warmer now.”

“good,” he sighed happily with a smirk before adding, “you look cute in my clothes.”

a/n. i’m unfortunately going through a major writer’s block rn for the first time in literal years,, but i managed to push this out. it’s not much but at least i got smth out finally <//3 likes, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! thank u! <3

[shingia]

Telling the haikyuu boys ur proud of them😋 u pick who it is

✗ TELLING THE HQ BOYS YOU’RE PROUD OF THEM

i got so excited when i received this request, it’s so freaking cute 🤧 thank you for this, anon <33 and i’m sorry it took me so long to post it :’)

-> akaashi, oikawa, kageyama, bokuto

-> reblogs are always appreciated 🖤

|| AKAASHI

« i’m really proud of you, you know ? »

akaashi’s entire body froze for a few seconds - except for his eyes, who seemed to get bigger the more his brain was processing the information. « keiji ? are you okay ? » you asked, resting a concerned hand over his. these few words were enough to make him snap out of his surprise. « yeah, sorry, i was just... distracted » he cleared his throat. « i’m also really proud of you. don’t... i mean, try not to forget that, ok ? ». clumsily, his fingers interlaced with yours, giving your palm a little squeeze. it wasn’t usual for him to act so awkward around you - yet he was still quick to bring your hand to his lips, where he intended on placing a feather-light kiss on your ring finger. but unfortunately, a couple of nervous chuckles interrupted him. « oh god... the things you do to me », he breathed out, a second before his lips finally met your skin

|| OIKAWA

« i’m proud of you, tooru »

oikawa was used to hear these few words after every single one of his matches, when he came back from the court with a victorious smile on his lips. but today was different. today there was no match, no thrill of the game, just the two of you with your limbs entangled on the couch after a day of doing absolutely nothing. « oh.. well, thank you baby ! » he smiled fondly, placing a quick kiss below your ear before resting his cheek on your shoulder. a few seconds of silence followed, a comfortable silence which was only broken by the sound of his voice reaching your ears again - much quieter and hesitant. « could you... could you say that again, please ? ». your hand immediately found its way to the back of his head, holding him a little bit closer as these same words left your mouth, an unconscious emphasis on the fourth word.

|| KAGEYAMA

« hey, tobio ? i’m proud of you »

almost startled by your voice, kageyama looked over his shoulder before you were even done talking. « uh... i’m just doing the dishes, you know... it’s not that big of a deal » he answered, focusing back on the plate he was holding in his hands. but something about the soft laugh that escaped your lips made him think that maybe you weren’t talking about the dishes. « i meant that i’m proud of who you are » you explained more clearly. his grip on the plate loosened, his entire body was too focused on the feeling of the blood rushing to his cheeks. « don’t say anything about my face » he pre-empted you, knowing very well that you were about to point his blushing out. « but also, thanks for... what you said ». one thing was sure, the ‘you’re welcome’ kiss that you placed at the corner of his lips definitely didn’t help the poor man get better

|| BOKUTO

« did i ever tell you that i’m proud of you ? »

bokuto’s first reaction to your words was to look up at you, him who had spent the last five minutes wallowing in misery with his head on your lap. « yeah, you did... but i sucked today, why are you telling me this now ? ». he had spoken so softly that it would have almost been endearing if his eyes were not filled with such concern. « because i’m also proud of you when you’re not proud of yourself ». his brows furrowed instantly - you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head. but, soon, you felt his muscles finally relax, one by one. and the fact that bokuto’s resting face was the most angelic smile you had ever seen made it impossible for you to resist the urge of kissing his forehead multiple times. « thank you » he smiled even brighter, scrunching his nose like he always did when you kissed his face. you didn’t even feel him grab hold of your hand, but by the time you realized it, he was already fast asleep on your lap.

🏷 taglist : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @miyumiya @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @boo-marie @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kohi-zeri @viridevi @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @geektastic84 @japanesevenom @catb6y @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @admiringlove

[jokersmeowmeow]

Apex Legends - affection hcs <333

Yooo y'all, I'm sorry I've been absent for quite a looong time, BUT I've been busy and unfortunately I still am, so here I can offer You some hcs with our lovely legends to recompensate my inactivity :3

Mirage:

Soft. Softer. THE SOFTEST!!!

Mirage is the most touch-starved person You've ever seen, but how can You possibly mind? He is an angel <333

He may make an impression of a laid-back alvaro, but he's actually really anxious about what he can and can't do with You - You have to state Your boundaries clear.

After You do this, he is STILL unsure about everything and in need of constant reassurance if this is okay if he touches You like this or kisses like that, but that only adds to his cuteness.

Simple gestures are able to melt him completely, just cup his face and tell him You love him, kiss the tip of his nose, nuzzle against him, and he'll be all Yours, almost in tears.

He longs for such affection and reciprocates every single act of it; for instance, he adores hugging You from behind randomly and hide his face in the crook of Your neck to breathe in the smell of Yours and feel the velvet softness of Your skin.

His growth brushing against Your neck tickles You and hence causes You to giggle - listening to Your laugh soothes him totally.

He does his best to complement You, as he thinks You deserve it and he regards You as the most perfect person he's met, even more perfect than him ;DDD (seriously, because he really thinks that, he's gonna boast about You being his lady all the time so that the whole world shall know You're a couple)

B U T

He's bad with words, we know that. Stuttering ruins and at the same time makes everything more adorable when it comes to Mirage

"Oooh sweety, You look so so extrard-ext-extraordrin... Just amazing, You look amazing..."

His face turns blood red in seconds, but to be honest with You, that's the moment in which You want to spread kisses all over his face the most.

After a long day apart, prepare for being trapped in a makeahift cage of his arms and arms of his decoys.

He just runs to You excitedly with his arms spread widely, wraps them around You, and then You feel more and more of them snaking here and there. He missed You and can't imagine not exposing his longing for You to You.

He tries to do his best in Your relationship, he really does, but his anxiety hidden under the veneer of pride tells him he isn't enough for You, so talk to him about that, learn him how to cope with feelings and not be ashamed of them; he'll be more than thankful, nothing solves problems better than honest conversation.

Moreover, after a hard "psychology session", he enjoys sharing a hot, steamy shower with You.

He rests his forehead against Yours and closes his eyes; now You can see him as himself, no pretending, no fake confidence, no armor, just his bare body, naked mind and boiling water streaming down Your chests and backs.

Bangalore:

This woman. She is tough. She has no weak spots... Apart from You.

She casually looks as if she was ready for murder, but when she looks at You, she immediately softens.

You're like pain killers to her; You calm her down in split seconds and it's amazing to watch her features soothe, one of the corners of her lips travel up in a delicate, hardly noticeable smile.

She isn't an affectionate kind of person, especially in front of the others, but she is more than glad to receive affection from You.

She gives the best bear hugs and let me tell You, the feeling of the warmth of her muscular, womanly body, the plush of her breasts and hard abdomen... It's irreplacable.

She doesn't say it out loud then, but You can perfectly sense how devoted to Your relationship she is, she confesses her loyalty to You with her whole form embracing Your own.

One of her favourite moments during the day are early mornings; she usually wakes up just before dawn while You're still deeply asleep. Then, she can adore Your peaceful face looming up from under the duvet and graced with first golden rays of sunlight finding their way to Your bedroom through the window.

Before she leaves, careful not to wake You up, she watches You for a while and tries to picture this beautiful view in her mind precisely and keep there for the rest of the day.

She kisses Your forehead gently and silently gets out of the room, one last time glancing at You behind her back from above her shoulder before shutting the door.

She's keen to talk to You about everything and she's beyond recognition then; You can talk to her about everything and nothing, starting from Your own serious issues and ending on exchanging some girlish gossips.

Whatever topic You throw on her, she's always willing to not only listen to You, but also actively partakes in the conversation.

During such talks, she really does enjoy having her arm wrapped around You whilst You're resting against her on the couch.

She'll most probably be caressing Your shoulder with her thumb without even realizing it.

Your laugh causes her to laugh widely, which is a wonderful chain reaction as she rarely smiles on her own.

I must mention jealousy here; Bang hates seeing someone flirting with You.

Her face lines turn even sharper, she grits her teeth not to let herself lose control over her emotions.

But if she has enough, she'll most certainly approach You two steadily, pull You to her side and glare deadly at the motherfucker daring to flirt with You as if she was looking at a pathetic pile of horseshit.

It's likely she'll warn them to fuck off before she shoves a granade up their ass.

I know this is amusing and boosts Your ego, but spare her nerves, she just can't lose You and wants to be the best version of herself for You.

Pathinder:

Cinnamon roll made of metal.

He loves everyone as friends and because, unlike the most of the others, You actually reciprocate his affection, he WORSHIPS You in particular.

He's a hug-person, that's why often he forgots how painful it is when he wraps his arms a little too tightly around You.

When You politely tell him to let You go and state why, he's a trembling mess.

He asks You questions whether he harmed You, made You uncomfortable and if You're okay. Reassure him everything's okay, please, all he wants is to make You feel loved and appreciated.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry, friend... Can I get a second chance? I promise I won't be uncomfortable anymore" 👉👈

You can't say "no" to him; he hugs You much more tenderly, he's calculating his every move when he slowly embraces You again.

He may be boxy and angular, but the metal he's build of is pleasantly warm, or at least it seems like it because of Path in general.

You press Your hands to his back and cheek to his chest, and when You open Your eyes, pink light radiating from the screen on his torso blinds You as a large, smiley face with heart-eyes appears on it.

This causes You to giggle, and then him; You two could stay like this for eons, him resting his head on the tip of Yours and just, laughing innocently like little children.

He's the number one comforter, this needs to be said. Whenever You feel blue, Path emerges near You out of nowhere and is ready to give his best to You.

His arm is instantly around You; he takes You somewhere peaceful and quiet, probably to Your bedroom, and sits You gently on the edge of Your bed.

He kneels in front of You, palming Your hands on Your knees and looking up at Your sorrow face.

"Hey, I don't like it when You're sad, it makes me sad, too. Path is here for You, and will be even when they break me apart. That'd be even better! There would be more of me to listen to You!"

His positivity, even in the darkest of times, is able to lift anyone's spirits in a flash.

While venting Your disappointment, anger, helplessness and other damaging emotions on him, he listens to You letting Your words sink in his mind and brushes single tears flowing down Your swollen cheeks every now and then with his thumb.

Surprisingly, he's more gentle than any man build of flesh, You wouldn't recognize whether it's the touch of his robotic fingers or soft human hands if You didn't know him.

He a l w a y s manages to make You laugh somehow, You actually don't even notice when Your mood changes from gloomy and suicidal to amused and happy.

"Low-five?" he asks, still crouching and showing his flat hand to You, so that You can give him low "high-five" and begin Your day again, but better.

Octane:

Speedy boi only You are able to slow down.

There's a significant spark of rivarly burning between You and keeping Your relationship sufficiently heated.

And that's why You enjoy competitive video games; You sit on the couch next to each other and follow the flying controllers in Your hands.

At some point You begin to interrupt each other's playing not only virtually, but in real life as well.

He nudges You with his elbow and You give it back by shoving Your smaller form towards him with the maximal strength.

Finally, You put the game aside and You start wrestling; it looks a little brutal, but You both know it's just fun.

You roll down from the sofa and fall on the floor, Your limbs tangled together, You two laughing and screaming at each other; an adorable picture of the pair of energetic fireballs.

You don't even care whether anybody remarks on Your playful joshing, at most You just stop for few seconds and simultaneously snap at them.

Then, You continue what You've started and what I must state here is the fact that Octane isn't merciful. He comes up with an idea of tickling.

You can't even attempt to grab his hand and stop him, he is already faster than You and he knows EXACTLY where to touch You to make You double up with laughter.

Only when he pins You to the ground by Your wrists and You officially give up, he lets You go, proud of his success.

He loves sneaking behind You and picking You up randomly during the day, making You shriek and swear in surprise.

He loves it when You swear at him in spanish, especially if it's him who taught You his native language.

You sometimes do this on purpose just to see him staring at You blankly.

He's also more than glad to give You piggyback; having You pressed against his back and giggle in his ear is pure bliss, what man wouldn't love that?

He may start spinning around or run with You on his back so be prepared, he's unpredictable, especially when excited, even without drugs.

Last, but not least, if You manage to somehow calm him down and sit him still, when You're snuggling against his side, he gets flustered by the view of Your leg caressingly sliding up and down his prosthesis.

"Ah, hermosa, eres mi mejor droga."

Fuse:

The daddiest daddy among all the daddies in the world. Lucky You!

He's the type of man loyal to You to the grave and he's more than pleased to show it; he rarely leaves Your side, places his hand on Your hip or loosely embraces Your shoulders with his arm.

He subtly establishes the boundaries of reciprocal contact between You and someone who might be potentially interested in You, but he's not possessive. This man doesn't lack finesse if he wants.

You kindle the flame of artistic creativity within him, thus he writes songs for You; he loves singing them and playing his guitar for You later.

He may forget to go on with the lyrics if You start swaying to the rhythm of his music. He knows You do this to purposely tease him and test his patience, but he's prepared for losing all of his attention divisibilty.

Focusing his gaze on Your effortless, wanton moves is enough to make his day.

When he's done playing, he expects appreciation with words ("Aaand? How was it, m'lady, eeh?") and with actions (he usually pokes his cheek and awaits well-deserved kiss).

For the first time, You fell for his little trick he pulled on You; when You were going to place a kiss on his cheek in rewarding gesture, he lightly grabs You by Your chin and makes You kiss him on his lips.

After that incident, every time You reward him, You intentionally "fall" for these tricks of his or it's You who pulls him for the kiss first.

You two giggle into each other's mouths and wordlessly swear to make that little game Your own ritual.

Often, when the situation gets heated, he finds his way to Your neck and the touch of his rough mustache on Your delicate skin sends shivers down Your spine - he loves it when Your throat vibrates because of Your sirenic chuckle.

You adore joking together; he's the master of pun and dad jokes, hence You two sometimes get trapped in a vicious circle of laughter.

Then, You just lean against each other and laugh so hard tears start flowing down Your cheeks, especially when each of You tell new jokes, funnier and funnier than previous ones.

Of course, You two enjoy a good, old game of poker, too; You sit opposite each other on the bed, legs crossed, and try so hard not to snort while glancing at each other's pokerfaces.

He attempts to distract You, make You laugh, cheat and make this card game the most ridiculous it only can be and You hit back, obviously.

If he wins, You throw cards in the air and make him pay for it; You jump on him, but he's quick to incapacitate You by lying his bulky body on Yours so that You have to haul Yourself up from under him to catch a breath.

If You win, it pretty much ends in the same way.

[leviaju]

forgiveness

pairing: belphegor x GN! reader, hints of everyone x reader

words: 8.1k+

genre: angst, fluff at the beginning and a bit at the end if u squint

warnings: mentions of mc and lilith’s death, foul language

preview: “I’m sorry,” He begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. “I know that will never cut it, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.” 

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

hey guys what up. so... i’ve done a lot of thinking about belphegor’s dynamic with MC, and, like many others, was really bothered by the sudden switch after... he killed them. u know. typical stuff. i wanted to fill in the gaps!!! if im being completely honest, this has sat in my wips for.... like half a year. it’s my first time writing for obey me, so i hope that everyone’s not too terribly ooc LOL

anyways yeah. i mention how belphegor killed mc a couple of times, so proceed with caution! hopefully, if i get any ideas, the next stuff i write will be a lot lighter. hope you enjoy! (also requests r open soooooooo)

The weight on your chest crushed your rib cage, threatening to snap your bones like they were nothing more than twigs. All you could see was the pitch black of eternal night, and whether your eyes were opened or closed you couldn’t tell. What commanded your attention was the searing pain in your lungs, growing exponentially every half-second, and the unrelenting grip that was slowly shattering your esophagus. No matter how hard you struggled, squirmed and fought against the weight holding your body down, there was no use. It was pointless. The pain spread from the raging fire in your lungs to the tips of your fingertips, and everywhere felt as if you had been set aflame. Slowly, a light illuminated the force keeping you down. 

You couldn’t make out much, save for the cackle that rang insufferably through your ears, and the intense eyes that were staring you down. 

They held no remorse. 

-

Bones ache as you rest against your bed, finally allowing the tension in your muscles to melt away. You’d never mistake this feeling for regret of a busy day, having spent so much time with the people you care about, but it certainly took its toll on you. 

It began with Satan, who’d asked you the night before to accompany him on an early morning walk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence — he’d invite you to join his morning routine on every day off, and you’d never refuse — hence, at the wonderful time of 7:00am, you were venturing around the Devildom, hand in hand with the Avatar of Wrath. The two of you would walk, occasionally resting on a park bench for longer than either of you would like to admit, for about an hour and a half before you took an official break. The time was filled with pleasant chatter and comfortable silence. Every so often he’d squeeze your hand, and when you’d look over, the fondest of smiles crossed his face. It was a reminder of how glad he was that you joined him. 

At around 8:30, he took you into a café for breakfast, and two of you spent only about thirty minutes there chattering away happily. For the most part, he was vividly and excitedly discussing a book he’d just finished the night before…

Until you were interrupted.

“Hello, lovely!” Asmodeus wrapped his arms around you from behind, just before pressing a kiss on your cheek. Satan sighed, resting his head in his hand as he watched the interaction. 

“My selfish older brother’s been hogging you all morning, I couldn’t help but want to whisk you away!”

Despite the glare Satan was sending his way, Asmodeus took a seat next to you, happily engaging in conversation as he completely ignored his brother. He told you that the mall was opening in about an hour, and Asmo desperately wished to get his perfectly-manicured hands on a new makeup product being revealed that day. 

“But of course I can’t go alone! How positively dreary that would be.” His fingers twined with yours as he looked at you hopefully, and you ran your thumb across his hand. A sheepish smile crept its way onto your lips, and you looked over at Satan. He simply nodded, flicking his hand as a gesture for you two to leave, and Asmodeus didn’t hesitate. He was quick to stand and pull you with them, holding tight to you as he whisked you away. You called out to Satan, now alone at the table with a reluctant smile on his face as he waved goodbye. 

“Thanks for breakfast! Get home safe!”

You almost missed the chuckle that left his lips, the café door closing behind you. 

Asmodeus kept you until noon. He got a hold of the lipstick he wanted almost right away, but insisted on buying an outfit to match the colour. Regardless of what you’d initially thought, the outfit wasn’t for him.

“Oh, we’ll look positively stunning together!” He exclaimed after about two hours of forcing you in and out of changing rooms, putting his hands all over you to “adjust the clothing” as he deemed necessary. Near the end, you could feel soreness deep in your muscles creeping in from such an active morning, but Asmodeus’ cheery face and constant flirtations helped you forget about it almost completely. 

It wasn’t until you got home that you truly felt the effects of on-and-off walking since early in the morning. Be that as it may, your stomach was growling, loudly reminding you that it was now past lunch. As much as you wished to give up on food for the time being and instead head to your room to collapse, the pain in your belly was enough to urge you to cease any arguments, instead ready to try and ignore the ache in your bones in order to quell the angry rumbling of your stomach. 

Unfortunately, when you finally made it to the kitchen, there was no food prepared. Instead, what you found was a dejected Beelzebub, frowning softly as he once again was at the receiving end of a lecture from the eldest of his brothers. As quiet as possible, you snuck into the kitchen, trying to listen in on their conversation. 

There was silence, followed by a sigh. 

“It’s easier to simply ask what’s going on as opposed to trying to eavesdrop, MC.”

You jumped, then bashfully made your way into the kitchen, a sheepish grin on your face. Lucifer was rubbing his temple. 

“Beelzebub was supposed to be on lunch duty, but ended up ‘taste-testing’ to the extent that he ate it all. Again.” Lucifer sighed. The typically perfect eldest brother was being run ragged, if the bags forming under his eyes told you anything. “So, instead of working on the papers I have to get finished for tonight, I’m stuck making lunch while he cleans up.”

Beelzebub’s frown tugged at your heartstrings, and in spite of the exhaustion clawing relentlessly at your bones, you relented. 

“Why don’t I help? Four hands are better than two,” you proposed, and a small smile graced Lucifer’s face. He lifted his hand to brush the disheveled black hair out of his face, and your chest ached just a bit at the sight. You made a mental note to drag him to bed for a nap the next time you saw him like this.

“That would be more than welcome. Please, if you may.” Already you turned to start working, but Lucifer’s voice made you pause. 

“But no feeding Beel. He’s eaten more than his fill already, he can wait until we’re all done.”

Needless to say, every so often you’d slip Beelzebub a piece of chopped vegetable or cooked meat, and he’d very happily (but quietly!) munch away, his expression radiating warmth and joy. And Lucifer, who seemed to almost be omniscient at times, never once mentioned it. Once the three of you were done cooking, Lucifer placed his hand on your head, patting you gently. 

“Good work, MC. I must leave now, but I trust that the two of you will be able to clean everything up. Your help was much appreciated. You will be paid back in kind for all of your hard work.”

If nothing else, the slight blush on Lucifer’s face as he ever-so-gently pressed his lips to the crown of your head was more than enough payment. 

“Thank you.” Beelzebub cleared his throat, washing the dishes as you dried them. “I… Thanks for helping. And feeding me.”

His smile warmed your heart, and you nodded, bumping your arm with his gently. The small bit of pink that dusted his cheeks compelled you to coddle him, but you resisted the urge. Barely.

“Anytime, big guy.”

After you ate lunch, the only thought in your mind was the prospect of curling up under your covers and passing out. The fretful, broken sleep the night before wasn’t helping at all in keeping you awake, and that on top of the rest of the day’s events had you yearning for the feeling of your pillows. 

Unfortunately, you hadn’t even made it through the door when your phone began to blow up, one notification after the other in quick succession.

GGKKJFLFJG

MC

CMOE QUIC K

PLS

SUPE R RARE EVENT IN MONONONOKE 

PELASE 

YOU HVE TO BE PARTNERED WIHT SOMEONE TO GTE THE PRIZE

MC

MC

PL E A S E

HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHHHUUURRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY

You found yourself in Leviathan’s room, sat in his lap as he explained the event to you. Your half-asleep brain did its best to keep up with his quick speech, but that, along with the warmth of his chest against your back, became the most soothing lullaby. 

“Hey! Normie! I agreed to let you sit here so I could easily help you through the event, but if you’re going to fall asleep on me, I’m pushing you off—“

“I’m awake! I’m awake. 

...Now, what was I supposed to do?”

The unintentional giggle that escaped your lips at his expression caused Leviathan to huff, exasperated, despite the flush of his face. Diligently, however, he thoroughly explained the event, for the second time, and the method to obtain the rare prize: a level 2000 I’m Going To Murder You So Hard That You’ll Come Back To Life Just To Die Again Death Sycthe, the strongest weapon ever released in the game. It was a partner event, which explained Leviathan’s desperate and urgent request for aid. You didn’t mind though. While yes, you’d probably never be able to get to his level of gamer, you were more than happy to go along for the ride. It made him happy! 

Leviathan rested his chin against your shoulder as he played on his phone, focused to such a degree that the usually easy-to-fluster demon was completely unphased by your proximity. Your phone, set to AutoFight, rested untouched near Leviathan’s leg, abandoned on the floor. You watched him expertly take out enemies that would have one-hit KO’d you through heavy eyelids, and every time he beat a wave of enemies, his attention would momentarily avert from the screen, looking at you from the corner of his eye expectantly. A kiss on his cheek was more than enough to motivate him to continue on, albeit with a pink glow on his cheeks until his attention was once again completely wrapped up in the game at his fingertips. 

-

“Levi! I said open up, goddamnit!” 

The pounding against the door was enough to distract Leviathan from his game, subsequently killing his character in the process. He groaned, cursing the demon who interrupted the two of you as he gently lifted you off of his lap, before getting up to open the door. 

“The hell do you want?!”

To be completely honest, you were so wrapped up in watching Leviathan play his games that you had forgotten about your weekly movie night with Mammon, who had come over to his younger brother’s room to drag your ungrateful ass  back to your own. Leviathan had cleared the event in Mononoke Land hours ago, but not wanting you to leave just yet, invited you to keep watching him play. Setting aside how tired you were, how could you say no? You’d wanted to spend time with him, too. 

Unfortunately, you lost track of time, and your phone, battery completely drained from the event, rested uselessly in your pocket. A consequence of this happened to be missing the countless messages and calls Mammon had sent your way, before he began his hunt for you throughout the house. The last place he checked was, of course, Leviathan’s room.

“Come on, human, I ain’t got all day. No one keeps the Great Mammon waiting!” 

“Except for MC,” you heard Leviathan mumble under his breath, and a laugh escaped you before you had the chance to slap a hand over your mouth. Mammon flushed deeply, before striding into his brother’s room. 

“Hey, wait, you moron! I never said—!” 

The force of Mammon throwing you over your shoulder wasn’t enough to hurt, but it certainly was enough to leave you breathless for a moment. “Let’s go, fragile human. I picked the perfect movie already.” Mammon’s words came out in a bashful mumble, but he had enough courage to lift his head and smirk at Leviathan as he carried you out of the room. All you could do was smile apologetically at the blue haired demon before Mammon turned, bringing you out of sight. 

Mammon was all complaints as he carried you to your bedroom, but you knew it came from a place of love. Even though he’d never admit it, you could tell he was hurt by you unintentionally ignoring him. Because of this, instead of demanding he let you down, you allowed him to hold you like this, not a single complaint leaving your lips. 

When he brought you to your room, you were set on the bed you’d missed dearly and he went to put the movie in the player. 

“Hey! No sleepin’ on me, alright? I wanna watch the movie with ya, and I can’t if you’re passed out, now can I?” 

And so here you are now, bed frame creaking as Mammon climbs onto the mattress. Rubbing your eyes, you nod, and lean into him once he gets close enough for you to. 

“Seriously, I’m gonna hafta have a serious talk with Levi,” Mammon grumbles, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in so that you’re almost in his lap. He pulls the blankets over the two of you as you rest your head on his chest, and hum quietly in return. “He used up all your energy, and now we won’t be able to get to enjoy the movie as much! Honestly…”

The vibrations of Mammon’s words can be felt through his chest, and you simply cuddle into him more and try to train your bleary eyes on the television screen. The Avatar of Greed shuts up completely when you take his hand in yours and press a gentle kiss to it, before doing your best to focus on the movie. As time passes, however, the idea of giving into your whims grows more than tempting, and oh-so-easy for you to do. 

-

“Hey! Yo, MC! Seriously… You’re hopeless.”

A chiding, yet gentle voice draws you from the confines of rest. You puff air from your nose in response, cuddling closer to whatever it was that had been so comfortable in the first place.

“MC… Come on. Ya gotta wake up, ya didn’t even watch any of the movie! It was really good, y’know.”

Mammon’s hand rubs circles on your back as you mumble incoherently, a noise to acknowledge the fact that he‘s been talking, and that you are indeed awake now. 

It takes a good amount of time, as well as some gentle encouragement from Mammon, to get you to finally open your heavy eyes, and even longer for you to be able to apologize to him for missing out on the movie he was so excited to watch. He pouts a bit, but the blush on the highs of his cheeks lets you know that he didn’t mind all that much. You smile and yawn, and his chuckle resonates in your ears. 

“I gotta go now, otherwise Lucifer’s gonna kill me for staying so late. Sorry I woke ya up, but ya look so tired now that you’ll probably fall back asleep right away.”

And so, after a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek (which made Mammon turn the prettiest shade of red), you close your door and… sigh. If you had been able to stay asleep, the fact that you aren’t in pajamas and haven't brushed your teeth wouldn't be that much of an issue. Now that you‘re slightly more conscious, however, it’s hard to convince yourself to simply climb back into bed. Your breath is bugging you a bit, and the jeans you’re wearing certainly aren’t at all as comfortable as your pajama pants.  For that reason, to your own dismay, you begin getting ready for bed — properly this time. 

A small “finally…” tumbles from your lips after you finish your nighttime routine. Lacking any form of grace, you plop into bed once more and pull the blankets to your chin, nuzzling into the pillow. Your bed still smells like Mammon’s cologne, and you hum softly to yourself before closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take over once more, and hold you hostage until late in the morning. 

Alas, sleep seemed to be evading you now, similar to how you had ignored it during the day. The mattress you lay on simply isn't comfortable anymore, and the blankets that hug your body cause you to overheat. Unfortunately, if even one limb is out of the blanket, you get so cold you start shivering. None of your typical sleeping positions are anywhere near as effective as they typically are, and you’re left to wrestle with sleep alone, hoping to beat it into submission so you can finally get some proper rest. 

After about 45 minutes of tossing and turning with no results, you finally relent. The nap you’d taken while watching the movie royally fucked you over, and you groan. Eventually you decide to give up on trying to fall back asleep, and huff as you sit properly on your bed. 

Blanket dragging behind you as it drapes from your shoulders, you slowly make your way through the silent hallways of the House of Lamentation. The only sounds floating through the walls were the light buzz of electricity running through the wiring of the house, and your own footsteps as you began walking up one of the many staircases in the large building. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, the passage of time different at night to a hazy mind, but eventually you arrive at your favourite area in the house, second only to your lush bedroom. There are no artificial lights, only the gentle cast of the night sky providing the ideas of shape in the planetarium. You’ve never seen stars so vibrant and bright, and there are so many more in the Devildom than anywhere you could go back home. Even though the only light comes from the stars, it’s enough to create soft, fuzzy edges around everything in the room; this includes the bundle of various blankets mussed in the centre of the floor. Slowly, cautiously, you make your way towards the pile. 

Since you’d arrived in the Devildom, the planetarium at the top of the House of Lamentation became your safe haven. Your room, without a lock on the door, was way too easy for intruding demons to enter without permission, and on nights when everything became too much for you to handle, you’d head up to the planetarium to clear your mind. There’s just something so calming about a starry sky on a clear night that releases you of your fears and anxiety, and helps you get a grip on the situation around you. 

After freeing a certain someone from their attic-based captivity, however, you learned that the planetarium was a place favored not only by you. Since he’d been freed, you’d been kind, but there were still fears plaguing your mind, reminding you of everything that has transpired between the two of you. It’s something that you can’t escape, following you even - especially - in your sleep, when you wished you’d be the most at peace. It makes sense, considering the sin he embodies, but you wish it wasn’t like that nonetheless. 

Once you’d learned that this was one of his favourite rooms in the house, especially on nights when he can’t fall asleep, you found yourself avoiding this area. It’s not that you hate him; it’s the opposite, really. Nevertheless, you can’t help but feel the tightening of his fingers around your neck, and the burning sensation in your lungs that’s screaming for oxygen, and the desperation to alleviate the seer of deprivation. 

Still, you trek on. Closer and closer to the pile of blankets, your gut cries to you to run away. You ignore it. The nearer you get to the nest of blankets, the faster your heart beats, the more lightheaded you feel. But you continue. 

Eventually you get close enough to make out the shape of a familiar pillow, the cow print on the case worn and well-loved. From the moment you walked in the room, you knew he was here. All the same, you walk on, and the only sounds in the room are the gentle taps of your clothed feet against the tile, and the quiet noises of your quickened breaths.

You’ve avoided being alone with him since… Since you… Since the event. Your heart screamed at you to forgive him, to love him just as much as you love his brothers. That said, there’s nothing in you that can stop your stomach from churning whenever he gets too close. 

Butterflies beat aggressively within your heart and stomach, and it’s years before you get within his range of sight, but you sit down on the floor, holding the blanket tight to your body. 

There’s one beat, 

two beats,

three beats of silence before you can hear him sucking in a breath through his teeth. In your peripheral you can see his lips parting, closing, parting again as he tries to find the words. He heard you walk in, and was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t immediately bolt in the opposite direction. However, this proximity leaves him with an entirely new predicament. He wants to talk to you, he wants to laugh and joke with you the way his brothers do, but one look at your face and he notices the dark bags under your eyes, and the frown that tugs at your lips as you stare up at the stars. He can hear your heart racing, and feel his own in the tips of his fingers. He opens his mouth again, but the crack in his voice betrays his usual collected personality. 

“I’ll go,” Belphegor begins, begrudgingly starting to gather his blankets. His body freezes when his eyes pass over your figure and you’re looking right at him, through him, and he swears he can feel the blood in his veins stop pumping. Your expression is unreadable, almost scary, and he’s never in his life been in fear of a human until this moment. 

The seconds pass as years do, both of your bodies chilled to the bone but neither of you able to look away. In the end, the one who casts their gaze somewhere else is you, and he exhales loudly. 

“Don’t.”

Your reply is simple, but he’s stuck in place. Slowly, he nods, sitting down again the way he had been prior, and pulling his beloved pillow close to his chest. He can’t breathe, the tension suffocating. It doesn’t help that now you refuse to look at him. 

“... If you want,” he replies dumbly, staring at the floor. He feels trapped in place, afraid to move and scare you off. Despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to leave you be, he stays. You told him to, after all. Slowly, you sit down, his blankets creating a low wall between the two of you.

It’s only now that he gets a good look at you. You're tired, he knows, watching as your eyelids droop and your lazy movements when you get more comfortable under your blanket, but there’s more to it than just that. You seem so fragile, like sugar glass, breaking with even the slightest amount of pressure. He feels he can reach over and shatter you with the gentlest of touches, and that thought alone roots him in place. Since you came back, he’s never seen you without a smile. Your genuine smile was the prettiest, he decided rather early on, one that lights up your face and brightens those around you. Belphegor really, truly loves your smile.

He knows there was a point in time, not long ago, where he could have made it so no one saw it ever again. He can’t help but be grateful he didn’t succeed when he sees you smiling at his brothers. 

That’s never the smile you show him though. It’s not for lack of effort; you certainly try, and he loves you for that. But the smile you show him is always plastered on, and he knows you’re doing it for his sake. With Belphegor, your smile never reaches your eyes. Be that as it may, you’re never weak around him. Fake smiles prove exactly how strong you really are, but your heart races every time he enters the room. As much as he wishes your palpitations are out of excitement, he knows better than to give himself false hope. 

That’s why he’s so taken aback when he looks you over and you seem so vulnerable. Never, not in a million years, would he ever let himself believe that you’d allow yourself to look weak in front of him, not after what he did. Even so, here you are, shaking, knees drawn into your chest, and his heart soars because you’re showing him a new side to yourself. It aches at the knowledge that you’re feeling so vulnerable because of him. 

His eyes burn holes in the side of your head. You know he’s watching you, studying you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not when the hands he uses to pull the blankets over his body are the exact same ones that led you to your untimely and violent demise, and not when every time you look at his face, you can also see Mammon’s above you, sobbing as he tries to will you not to fade away into nothingness. 

There’s no putting it nicely. You were murdered, and Belphegor was the one who killed you. As much as he tries to pretend it never happened, to act around you the same as his older brothers do, you would never forget. Neither would he, regardless of the effort he puts into pushing the memory out of his mind. His chosen way of coping was to laugh with you, to get close and have you forgive him without acknowledging the situation. It was too painful to talk about, after all. He willingly, happily snuffed out the life of someone his brothers love, and someone he’d find himself loving too. You became someone who changed him, helped him grow and be better. It was easier, simpler to act as if you’d met him the same way you’d met any of his brothers. 

Belphegor killed one of the last remaining parts of his past, a part that, while once warm and light, mutated and infected him, causing his anger to grow out of control, like a weed that suffocates any flower that tries to flourish. He killed a descendant of his sister, and the fact that you’re here now is more of a second chance than he thinks he could ever deserve in all his millenia of living. 

And yet, here you are. Scared and shaking, but here. The silence has stretched on for longer than he’d like; he wants to be able to love you, openly and happily, but knows it won’t happen. It can’t, unless he does what he thought was the very last thing he’d do. 

“I’m sorry,” Belphegor begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. He can hear your heartbeat pick up, and he curses himself mentally. Your lip between your teeth, you remain silent. His nerves force him to speak more. 

“I know that will never cut, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

There’s more silence. He feels like he can’t breathe, the tense atmosphere forcing its way around his throat and tightening its grip. He doesn’t know how long it takes you to even contemplate replying, let alone allow yourself to respond. Belphegor’s ears ring almost deafeningly loud. He can’t take it.

“You’re right.” 

His eyes, which he trained to the ground, dart up to your profile once more. You pause, wetting your lips. 

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

There’s not enough time to process your words before he really, really looks at you. Almost fearlessly, you meet his eyes. 

Almost fearlessly. 

The shaking of your hands betrays the strength of your voice. Belphegor’s chest aches. 

“But…”

There’s a pause as you speak. He can’t look away again, even as your eyes meet the stars once more. There’s no chance he’ll miss a word you say, even if it tears him apart.

“It’s… it’s really difficult. I know you know that, but…”

Each time you pause, Belphegor’s mind begins storming. He can’t figure out what you’re going to say, or how you’re going to react, and it drives him crazy. He’s usually so good at reading people, but you’re an enigma. It sends a chill down his spine. 

His throat is caught. Even if he had words to say, they wouldn’t be able to come out. So he sits in silence as you find your own. 

“I don’t want you to feel worse than you do.” You lick your lips. “Or maybe I do? I… I really don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about you, Belphie.”

The nickname tugs at his heart, more than he could ever admit. He wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to do anything other than look at your melancholy face, knowing he’s the problem. He wants to run and hide, to sleep forever. He can’t, though. Not when you’re here. Not now. 

Knuckles turn white as he clutches desperately onto his pillow. His breath shakes as he draws in air. 

“I want to love you. I want to love you as much as I love your brothers, and care about you as much as I care for them…”

You struggle to find the words. 

“... But it’s hard.”

You curse your lack of eloquence. Now, of all times, when your words are the only thing that enable you to communicate how you truly feel, they fail you. This might be your only chance to ever properly show Belphegor how you feel, what makes you so conflicted every time he walks into the room with a smile on his face, and yet all you can say is “it’s hard”. Obviously. 

A breath finds its way into your lungs, and the sound of your lips parting in the otherwise silent planetarium echoes in your ears.

You continue.

“It’s hard because every time I see your face, or I hear your voice, or I-”, you falter, heart catching in your throat, “or you touch me, I can’t help but be reminded of what happened.”

Belphegor doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from your form. The grief that settles into his face perfectly matches your own, eyebrows upturned and bottom lip quivering just the slightest bit. Even the trembling of your hands is replicated in his own. He’s never seen you like this, so incredibly vulnerable, and it tears him apart inside to know that he is the cause of it.

A shuddery breath comes from Belphegor, and you fight your instincts to check if he’s okay. You know he isn’t.

The silence deafens you, thundering in your ears so harshly that you're tempted to place your hands at the side of your head to muffle how quiet it is. You don’t, however, and whether it’s because you don’t want to look crazy, or because you’re afraid you might shatter if you move, you’ll never know. Do you want him to talk? Do you want him to say anything? Do you want an apology?

If you had an answer for that, you’re sure that things would have patched themselves up much quicker than this. You caution a glance at Belphegor, and the weight pressing down on your chest gets heavier at his expression. It feels almost as if you can inhale the guilt he feels, the emotion radiating off of him in waves.

“I… Logically, Belphie, I get it.” Again with that cursed nickname. Usually, hearing it from your lips makes Belphegor feel warm and goddamn near giddy, but now it only seemed to drive the knife in his gut further. 

“I understand what happened and why you did it. I may not agree… but I get it, you know?” You swallow.

“In the end, I’m still here. And… and I’ve come to learn that you’re nothing like that anymore. You’ve grown, and changed, and the guilt and anger that consumed you took control, and that's why you-- that’s--” 

You pause, clutching the blanket around you to try and ground yourself. The shakiness in your voice is not missed by Belphegor, and even if it had been, there’s no way he’d be able to ignore the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. Slowly, subconsciously, one of your hands comes up to rest against your neck, a phantom of the grasp that once threatened to crush you.

“S-So… I understand why you did it. And I’m alive, and we’re friends, so it should all be okay, right?” Belphegor casts his glance away.

“But Belphie… as much as I want to forgive you, I also know that I’m never going to be able to forget what happened. It’s there in my dreams, and it’s there in your smile, and it’s there every single time your arm brushes mine and I flinch like a total loser.”

A weak chuckle makes its way out of your chest, and the halfhearted smile that follows forces a tear from your eye. You’re quick to wipe it away, hopefully quick enough so that it goes unnoticed by Belphegor.

It does.

What he does notice, however, is the frustration that holds tight to the edges of your sentences. The frustration is not directed at him, no. You would be yelling if that were the case, and maybe that would be easier for him to hear. No, this frustration is directed at yourself. You’ve been trying so hard, and all Belphegor has been doing is running away. His teeth dig so hard into his bottom lip, trying desperately not to show any anger he feels at himself, that he tastes iron.

“And then we became all buddy-buddy, you know? Like I was never lied to, or used, or manipulated, or-- or--”

Belphegor is torn from his self-pity when you continue, and he almost wishes you’d stop speaking. The thought that you might break him with your words has him shaking, and a feeling similar to fear courses heavily through his veins. Please, stop. He wants to go back to running away.

But you continue, as you always have.

“And I’m left not knowing how to feel. I’m so mad at myself for being such a coward and not being able to just get over it like everyone else, and I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t just exist around you like I do for everyone else. I mean, I used to be terrified of Lucifer, too.” Another fragile laugh, and you sweep the hair from your eyes with a shaky hand. Belphegor swallows hard.

“But I… I can’t pretend like nothing happened. As much as I want to be near you, and hug you, and take naps and play pranks on Luci with you… I can’t. I can’t act as if what I feel isn’t real, and what you did didn’t happen. It’s so hard, Belphegor.” You sigh, and finally look at him once more. He can’t meet your gaze, slumped over himself and hugging his pillow so tight to his chest it seems as if he wishes to disappear into it. “Especially because I really, truly want to understand why everyone loves you so much. And I want to love you, too. I want to know why Beel smiles every time you’re brought up in conversation, and I want to smile just the same. But… But right now, I can’t.”

Talking has gotten easier. The words that used to escape you have become accustomed to being used again, and confidence has restored in your gut. You sit a bit straighter as you watch Belphegor carefully, a sad smile lifting your cheeks. 

Belphegor knows that this is when he should swoop in, say something so intellectual that you’re caught off guard, and he can save you from… himself. This knowledge does nothing to save him from himself. He can’t even open his mouth to mime a sentence, let alone actually speak. The thought of how pathetic he must look settles under Belphegor’s skin, and he can feel his irritation rising. Not at you though, never at you. Not even when… When it all happened. His anger was misplaced, but he has never been angry at you.

Finally, when the quiet becomes too much, he forces himself to meet your gaze. The way you look at him, just as vulnerable and bare and scared as he is… he feels safe. He knows, even though your words sear his heart, that you never mean to hurt him, especially now. You’re being honest, and simply expect the same from him.

Belphegor inhales a deep breath, before willing himself to speak.

“I thought--” he croaks, and quickly clears his throat. Fuck. “I thought that if… if I could pretend that nothing happened, then I wouldn’t have to face any consequences.”

He curses audibly. Just how pathetic can he sound? Belphegor’s voice is hoarse and quivering, and weak. “Weak” is never a word that he would have used to describe himself, but now it echoes hauntingly against the confines of his skull. One of the most powerful demons in existence, and he finds himself quaking before a mere human. He cares for you, though, and he cares for you viciously. Something in Belphegor knows that he’s never going to be able to prove that to you unless he pushes his way through this.

So he forces himself to continue, even with every cell in his body desperately screaming at him to stop.

“I did what I did out of a place of guilt… and regret. I couldn’t stand the fact that it was because of me, that it was my fault, that I’m the reason that Lilith--”

Belphegor stumbles over his own words, and he sets down his pillow before he accidentally tears a hole through it. Instead he braces himself on the cool floor, in need of something steady to hold onto. This whole conversation shook him to the core. He can hardly believe he’s talking about his sister. She’s a topic that he’s avoided even around Beelzebub…

But if Belphegor ever wants even the possibility that you’ll forgive him, he knows he has to. Everything is on the line. His blunt nails press against the tiles and he focuses on steadying his voice.

“I couldn’t accept that it was my fault.” A newfound steadiness weaves its way around his words, and he finds himself sitting a bit straighter. “I’m the one who introduced her to the human world, and kept bringing her back. I’m the reason she suffered, and why the war started, and why we fell, and why she…” Belphegor coughs. “In the end, I couldn’t accept that I’m the one who killed her.

Your heart yearns to tell him that no, he’s wrong, it’s not all his fault. You know it won’t help right now, though, and that it isn’t your time to speak. Settling back a bit, you let your blanket fall from your shoulders. 

Belphegor’s heart stutters, and pounds so hard that he feels like it's trying to tear through his chest. Even so, he doesn’t miss the way your hand reaches out to smooth over his own, and for a moment he feels himself wanting to melt just from the simple touch. 

Belphegor pulls away. He doesn’t deserve your comfort, not yet.

“So… So when you said that you’re a descendant of Lilith, I-- I couldn’t help myself. I jumped at the chance to get to know you, learn about what makes you similar and what makes you different. Her blood flows through your veins, and I was quick to ignore what I did in favour of getting to know you, and… and inevitably, becoming just as fond of you as my brothers… but that can’t erase what I did.”

The feeling of understanding floods you and you find yourself nodding at his words. To be completely honest, even now, you’re scared. Your heart beats for many reasons, fear one of them, but you don’t run away. Not anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to even if you wanted to.

Your hand, abandoned next to Belphegor’s, lay dormant. The need to comfort wills you to once again place your hand on his, but you don’t move. When he’s ready, if he ever is, you’ll be there.

Just as he’ll be there for you.

“I killed you, MC. And in doing that, I killed Lilith. Again.”

Countless emotions storm their way through Belphegor’s conscience, despair clawing at his throat, regret snapping his back, and guilt slowly crushing him under its weight. How is it that one can feel so empty, and yet so filled to the brim with misery?

“And not only that, but if I succeeded… I would have completely missed out on getting to know you, and caring about you as much as I do now. It would have been a loss that I never would have understood, but know for a fact that I would have felt. Even… Even when I was proud,” he spits out the word as if it’s poison, “of what I’d done, watching my brothers’ hearts break at the sight of your body… Even then, I felt it. The ache. It’s so fucking stupid.”

His tone, now bubbling with anger, stills you. It’s not directed at you, and you know this, but despite yourself, you freeze. Belphegor notices, and quickly clears his throat, relaxing his shoulders. He allows your heart a moment to slow as he regains his composure, and you find yourself breathing again.

“I know that me saying sorry is never going to cut it.” Belphegor turns his body to fully face you. He’s no longer running from his feelings, or from you. He knows he can’t anymore. Hesitantly, he lifts his trembling hand to place over yours. The muscles in your fingers tense, and he pauses to gauge your reaction. When you slowly nod your head once, he delicately places his hand on yours, using his thumb to gently begin massaging the tension away. “And I know that even if I do everything right from here on out, that there’s a chance that you won’t ever forgive me. And I understand why.”

Your heart sinks at his expression, his gaze locked on your joined hands. As aloof as he normally is, you can see none of that on his face now. When you turn over your hand he quickly pulls away, but your shaky movements to bring his hand back and intertwine your fingers urges him to go on. 

“But I want to try. And really try this time. I want you to be honest with how you feel, whether I’m frustrating you or scaring you or anything like that, and… and I want to be honest with you too. I…”

Belphegor trails off, but you squeeze his hand. He draws in a slow breath. 

“No matter what happens, no matter how you feel, we’re stuck together for the next few months. I want to spend that time getting to know you, and I want us to be as close as you are with any of my brothers… but I also want you to know that you shouldn’t feel forced. If it’s ever too much, I need you to tell me, and I promise I’ll back off.”

The smallest of smiles makes its way onto your face as you quietly agree. Belphegor doesn’t allow himself to try and figure out if it's genuine, out of pity, or sadness, but in spite of everything, it makes him feel a bit lighter. Just a bit.

“This won’t fix everything right away,” you say, and he now knows that your smile is a combination of the three. Along with this, though, Belphegor also knows the small sparkle in your eyes is hope, and he’s willing to take that hope and nurture it for however long he must.

“I know,” he sighs, but even he can feel the small tilt of a smile on his face, “but I’m willing to take as much time as you need to decide how you feel about me. And… And if you decide you hate me, which is fair, and that you never want to even be in the same room as me, I’ll respect your wishes.

Until then...Until you decide that you really, truly hate me, I won’t stop trying.”

There’s no way of telling how long his words linger in the air around the two of you, circling around your heads and making their way through your body. Even so, Belphegor diligently watches you, wanting to make sure he’s not overstepping his bounds. He even contemplates letting go of you, but is reassured when slowly, almost unnoticeably, you begin smoothing out the lines on the back of his hand with your thumb.

As much as you want to tell him that you could never hate him, you also know you can’t promise anything. Still, for now, just as much as him, you’re willing to try. You stay in silence, more comfortable than you’ve ever been in his presence, gently caressing the hand held in your own.

Eventually, Belphegor clears his throat once more. The vulnerability has made him tense and rendered his voice weak. 

“Can… can you hug me?” He all but whispers, fragility making his body quiver once more. He was completely open about his feelings for the first time in a lifetime, and the intensity of it left him craving affection. He knows how unfair this is to you, but he can’t help himself. He wishes to be held, for his fears to be quelled by someone so much stronger than him. “If you don’t want to,” he falters, speaking quickly, insecurely, “I won't even touch you. I-If you do, I promise I can keep my hands behind my back, and I won’t even--”

His words end abruptly as he feels you release his hand, and his heart sinks. He debates running away again, until he hears you moving towards him, and he finds he’s frozen in place. Slowly, but surely, with more courage circulating through your veins than you’ve had all night, you make your way over the blankets that divide you and position yourself right next to Belphegor, pulling him into your chest. Even now, he can feel how quickly, persistently your heart races, and yet you stay. True to his word, Belphegor rests his hands on the ground behind his back, but he doesn’t stop himself from nuzzling into your chest… and he cries. The complete, uninhibited release of his emotions hit him like a truck, and he sobs heavily into you, tears slowly but surely staining your shirt. You adjust yourself so you can hold him closer, slowly and reassuringly rubbing his back as he lets go of everything he’s been holding on to for longer than you can even imagine. This is a man who’s run from his emotions for centuries, and the fact that he’s willing to face them for your sake comforts you, cradles your heart and presses gentle kisses against the cracks. You know that you’re not going to wake up tomorrow with everything okay, but for now… for now you’re comfortable with his touch. Heaving in a deep, steadying breath, you reach down just enough to take Belphegor���s arms, and guide them to rest his hands on your hips. At this silent permission, he slowly, delicately wraps his arms around your waist, despite craving your body closer, wanting to hold you tight and never let go. He cradles you like you’re made of the most brittle glass, and you smile. The gesture touches your heart, and… and you feel safe. You know that all he wants to do is embrace you as tight as he can, but he doesn’t, even with permission. 

Here, in Belphegor’s arms, you feel safe. Here, where Belphegor’s grip on you is so gentle that it wouldn’t even crumple paper, you feel loved. As he cries into your chest, holding you as if you were an antique, hope slowly fills your heart.

Everything is far from perfect, but it’s still on the right track, here in the quiet planetarium.

[ihatebnha]

I hope you’ve been able to rest up caitie as I’ve seen that life has been a little loser towards you :( I read that you almost decided to leave and I got sad for a second but then saw that you’re going to stay. But I think either way, whether or not you moved I would’ve respected that decision of yours, but I’m also elated that you’ve decided to stay <3 making bakugo give you a forehead kiss rn and hopefully after the kittens go to their new homes you get to rest and take a break from your relatives

Also it doesn’t really matter to me if you went back to the way you were during the pandemic, you’re still caitie to me, but that’s just me talking, love you lots <3

AAAA THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO SEND TO YOU IM SORRY

- omen

Ahh omen!!! Thank for this lovely message, though when are your messages not lovely?

Unfortunately I actually still am considering moving blogs, though (I hope) you’ll be happy to know that if/when I do, i wont be leaving the community entirely, it will just be a new space where I will hopefully continue writing/posting and/or answering any asks that I’m lucky enough to get!!!

I know you say you don’t mind that things aren’t the same, it’s just… I do, in the sense that I’ve always held myself to an extremely high standard here that I’m tired of striving for… so to maintain the integrity of this space that I’ve pushed myself so hard to create, I think it would just feel better to rebrand in a place that is entirely separate. Idk.

But! As I mentioned, I cried thinking about posting my goodbye note, so… I don’t think I’m quite ready for that yet, even tho I have set up the would-be blog. I’ve actually been considering dropping the name just because I’ve been using it as my own personal Twitter lately… but again, I’m not sure how many people would care (which is fine btw. If I were u I wouldn’t LOL).

Anyway… that’s all to say… please don’t be sad for me! I love you and tumblr and probably won’t be going anywhere you won’t be able to find. I do appreciate the respect a TONNNNN though the elation and your explanation makes me feel even happier (no matter what ends up happening). Sometimes I just feel so disconnected from the way people think/feel about me (much less blogs in general), so it’s hard to tell what will really happen when trying to make decisions.

Blah blah blah, otherwise though… kittens are officially off to be adopted, family will be gone after this weekend… and today (now yesterday), I spent the whole day on the couch… so I’m definitely getting okay-er and there’s no need to waste anymore hope on me!!!

I’m obviously hoping you’re well also, tho!!! I really appreciate the opportunity you’ve given me to talk all this out, whether you read it all or not… so please give yourself a big ol’ hug and from me for it.

Don’t forget I love u lots and LOTS, and now that I’ve had my bakugo kiss, I’m sending him right back so u get one too. Thank u for everything, as always!!!🖤🖤🖤

[writingfeatherduster]

Hmm a sansby prompt? If you want something slightly more angst filled, maybe have Grillby be the knight in shining armor after someone won’t take no for an answer from Sans? Or maybe just some cute fluff, like cuddling while watching a movie :3

As I like to say in these situations- why not both?

Keep You Safe

Word count: 2667 Summary: When someone won’t take no for an answer, Grillby steps in. Warnings: Sexual assault SERIOUSLY, MIND THE WARNINGS

Sans always hated it when there weren’t any available seats at the bar. It was great that Grillby’s was getting good business these days, but it also meant he’d have to wait a bit to talk to his favorite fire monster, and he couldn’t even watch him while he worked very well. The skeleton caught Grillby’s eye as he came in and gave him a little wave and a wink before making his way towards one of the booths closest to the bar. Grillby gave him a nod and got back to mixing the line of drinks he was working on. Sans couldn’t help but notice that Grillby looked nervous. The skeleton frowned a bit and kept a careful eye on him, praying that a stool at the bar would open up soon so he could help. He was watching the bartender so intently that he barely noticed when another monster came and sat next to him in the booth.

“Well hi there,” the monster said with a toothy grin. Like, really toothy. Because she was a shark monster. She was probably wearing more makeup than clothes, and the look she gave Sans was positively predatory. The skeleton could already see where this was going.

“Lemme stop you right there.” Sans scooted sideways in the booth, putting a bit more distance between himself and the stranger. God, this lady reeked of perfume. “I appreciate it, but I’m not really looking for any’body’ to hand out with right now, heh.”

Sans knew he was hilarious, but he still thought she laughed too hard at that. Instead of backing off, she inched closer to him. “C’mon, cutie, don’t be that way! Besides, you didn’t need to look. I found you first~!”

“Unfortunately,” Sans grumbled. He moved over again, finding his shoulder against the wall. “Really, lady, not interested tonight.”

“You know, you’re really hot, for a guy with no skin.” The shark monster moved in closer, turning towards Sans and putting one hand on the wall next to his head. “Don’t be so cold. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”

With the shark monster leaning over him, it occurred to Sans just how bad this was. He’d teleport out, but he couldn’t focus on a location with this monster’s damn perfume giving him a headache. He was well and truly trapped, hidden by unsuspecting crowds of monsters and a secluded booth. “Answer’s no,” he tried, “Back off.”

She laughed at him again, suddenly slipping a hand under Sans’s shirt. He slapped it away, but she just grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the table, moving in again to rub his ribcage. “You really are just bones and magic, aren’t you? There are so many places I could get inside you, hehe~. Come on skeleton, let me show you some real fun~.”

Sans froze as her hand started to wander downward. This couldn’t be happening. Fuck, no, fuck fuck fuck fuck-

WHOOSH! BANG!

The monster over Sans went still as the bar went silent, eyes wide. There was a dark char mark on the wall above the booth’s table. A few inches to the left, and it would have hit her square in the back. She withdrew her hand and looked behind her, eyes widening further as she paled.

Grillby was standing in front of the booth, and he looked pissed. His fire was burning higher and hotter than Sans had ever seen, the heat radiating off him as his entire body crackled. The glare he fixed the shark monster was murderous, and to make things more frightening, he’d summoned an arc of fireballs over his head, ready for a fight. “Get. Your hands. Off him,” he snarled darkly. His usually warm voice had taken on a dark, steely edge that Sans had never heard from him before. In that moment, the skeleton was fully convinced that Grillby was capable of killing.

The shark monster was quick to comply, scrambling away from Sans and stumbling over themselves as they hastily stood from the booth. “Right! I’ll- um- I’ll be g-going the- ah!”

Grillby grabbed her by her neck, dragging her forward. The shark monster cried out as her moist skin steamed, drying out and threatening to blister. The fire monster paid that no mind. “Oh? And where do you think you’re going?” he asked threateningly. “We’re not done here. I think you and I need to have a little c h a t.” He raised his hand, the fireballs moving in closer. The monster whimpered at their heat, struggling as the grip on her neck tightened.

Ding! You’re blue now!

The shark monster was suddenly pulled down, out of Grillby’s grasp. As soon as she was free, she made a break for the door, terrified. The bartender moved like he was going to pursue her, but a wall of blue bones appeared in front of him, making him stop. Grillby stepped back, glancing towards the booth.

Sans had his hand up, both pupils gone and shaken. “H-hey, Grillbz? Why don’t we just calm down a sec? I’m okay, see? Nothin’ happened, s’all good.”

The fire monster paused, looking back at the door. After a moment, his gaze dropped and the fireballs he summoned disappeared in wisps of smoke. His hands were shaking. He turned back to the booth and walked towards Sans.

“Did she hurt you?” Grillby mumbled, hesitating by the table. All at once, the calm, caring Grillby that Sans knew had come back, eyes full of fearful concern. “I’m so sorry, Sans, I-i didn’t see her come in. I should’ve been keeping a better eye out, I know this booth can be secluded and-”

Sans’s pupils slowly lit up again as he relaxed. “Nah, Grillbz, I’m fine,” he reassured. He let out a shaky sigh as he finally relaxed. “Not gonna lie, that was pretty intense. Never thought I’d ever get to see you so ‘fired’ u- whoa!”

Grillby suddenly pulled Sans out of his seat, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in Sans’s hoodie. The monster was shaking all over. He was angry, but when he’d seen Sans cornered, he’d been so scared. The skeleton had insisted he wasn’t hurt, but Grillby found himself summoning small flames of green magic anyway, letting them dance over Sans as they checked for any injury.

Sans huffed fondly, the last of the tension leaving his bones as he returned the embrace. Grillby’s natural scent of smoke was much better than sickeningly sweet perfume. “I’m okay, Grillby, I promise. Maybe we should go somewhere quiet to chill for a sec?”

“Agreed,” Grillby mumbled into his jacket. He pulled back slightly, then suddenly picked Sans up.

Sans squeaked, then laughed. “I can walk, y’know.”

“I know,” was all Grillby said as he carried Sans back into the kitchen, bringing him to the small table in the back corner. Instead of setting him down, Grillby sat in one of the chairs and kept Sans in his lap, never releasing him from that warm, protective embrace. Safe and secluded, he let his guard down a bit, one hand coming up to cup Sans’s cheekbones. “I’m sorry. That- that was unlike me. I just…”

“Hey, I get it.” Sans brought his hand up to cover Grillby’s. “You don’t need to be apologizing. I should be thanking you. If you hadn’t come over she probably would’ve… she…” The full reality of what had nearly happened started to sink in and Sans started trembling. “She probably would’ve… fuck, what the fuck…” Tears started to fill Sans’s eyes as the last of the adrenaline drained from him. “Holy shit, I almost got raped. I almost got raped. What the fuck?”

Grillby pulled Sans close again, rubbing his back soothingly as the skeleton gripped his shirt. “I’ve got you, breathe,” he mumbled gently. There was the breakdown he’d been anticipating. “It’s okay if you need to cry, I’ve got you. We’re alone. You’re safe now.”

That was exactly what Sans needed to hear. He sobbed quietly into Grillby’s shirt, trembling as he tried to process what exactly just happened. What nearly happened. What could have happened, if Grillby hadn’t swooped in and put the fear of whatever God might be out there into that scummy pervert. He slowly became aware that Grillby was humming, the low vibrations soothing in Sans’s skull. The skeleton sniffled and wiped at his eyes. Deep breaths. He was safe. Deep breaths.

“I’m going to close early,” Grillby mumbled gently. “Will you be alright if I leave you here a moment?”

Sans nodded. “Yeah, I-i think I’m good. I’m just gonna go home.”

“No.” Grillby pulled away, meeting Sans’s eyes. “You are in no condition to be using your shortcuts, and I’m not going to let you walk in case that- ...in case it isn’t safe, this time of night. Go ahead and text Papyrus. You’re going to be staying with me this evening. I-if that’s alright,” he amended quickly. The last thing he wanted to do to Sans was force him into something, especially after what had transpired that evening.

Sans didn’t feel forced at all, though. He gave Grillby a weak smile. “That… that sounds nice. Yeah. I wouldn’t mind that. You go close up, I’ll text Papyrus.”

Relief filled the bartender and he stood, careful not to drop Sans as he transferred the skeleton to the chair. “I’ll be right back,” he assured as he straightened up. With that, he walked back out to his restaurant to herd customers out.

Sans had never seen the inside of Grillby’s apartment before. He knew the bartender lived in an apartment above the restaurant, and that the stairs lead directly into the kitchen, but that was about it. It was a little smaller than Sans had anticipated. Most of the space was taken up by the living room, with a cozy-looking couch piled with pillows and a bookshelf that looked ready to collapse under the sheer number of books that had been stacked on it. A small kitchenette was tucked into the corner of the apartment, and it looked like there was only one bedroom and a bathroom down the short hallway. It took Sans no time at all to make himself comfortable on the couch, kicking off his pink slippers and nesting into the cushy throw pillows.

Grillby gave the skeleton a fond smile, taking the comforter off the back of the couch and draping it over Sans’s shoulders. “Would you like me to turn on the television? I don’t have much in the way of movies, but my niece brought me a copy of a human show that I find to be fairly interesting. I mostly watch for the music.”

“Heh, so long as there are jokes in it, I’m down,” Sans replied with a shrug. He would probably fall asleep part of the way through it, but some background noise wouldn’t hurt.

Grillby kneeled next to the television and pulled out a small booklet, flipping through it to find the first disk. “Here we are,” he mumbled to himself as he found the one he wanted, getting everything set up before taking the remote and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. The disk loaded and a colorful title lit up the screen.

Sans tilted his head, mildly interested. “‘Steven Universe’, huh? No offense, but I never pegged you as a guy that’d be into cartoons.”

“It’s an occasional indulgence,” Grillby mumbled with a shrug. Was he blushing?

Sans snickered. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Grillbz. If you like it then it must be a good show. Let’s see what it’s about.”

Grillby smiled a bit, then hit play, relaxing back into the pillows. “I think you’ll like this one. Humans have such interesting concepts of magic…”

Four episodes later, Sans was hooked, watching the screen intently. He had to get himself one of those novelty backpacks. As he watched the protagonists fight evil breakfast foods, he turned to tell Grillby a joke, only to find himself meeting the bartender’s eyes. Grillby blushed and quickly looked back at the screen, but it was too late. He was caught staring.

Sans just chuckled. “Uh, can I help you with somethin’?”

“Sorry,” Grillby huffed, adjusting his glasses. At some point he’d undone his tie, letting it hang loose around his neck. He’d slipped off his shoes and pulled his knees up, hugging a pillow as he sat curled up on the couch. There was something about seeing Grillby this way that made Sans’s soul feel light. It just felt so… domestic, sitting there and watching one of the bartender’s favorite shows together. Grillby cleared his throat, breaking Sans from his thoughts as he continued. “I’m… still worried about you. Are you certain you’re alright?”

“Yeah,” Sans replied automatically, but that didn’t seem to reassure the fire monster at all.

“Sans,” Grillby sighed, reaching for the remote and pausing the show, “Please, be honest with me. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Sans took a deep breath and thought about it. After a long moment, he finally answered. “Okay, maybe not,” Sans admitted, “But I’m doing better. This,” he said as he gestured around himself, “Is helping. Like, a lot. I think this is exactly what I needed.”

Grillby nodded a bit, satisfied. “Well, is there anything more I can do for you?”

“I’m good.” Sans shrugged a bit, then took another look at Grillby. The bartender was great at reading Sans, but sometimes he forgot how good Sans had gotten at reading him in return. Grillby was tense, shoulders hitched up slightly as he hugged the pillow like it was going to run away. “Is there something I can do for you?” Sans asked, voice gentling as he did. “That scared the soul out of you, too, didn’t it?”

Grillby looked away again, feeling guilty. “I’m not the one that got harassed, Sans.”

“Nah, just the one who watched his best friend get sexually assaulted,” Sans pointed out. “We were both ‘rattled’, heh. Lemme help you out, too. Somethin’ I can do for ya?”

“Well,” Grillby mumbled, “Can I… is it alright if I hold you again?”

That hadn’t been what Sans was expecting, but he was more than up for it. “Sure. You’re gonna have to let that pillow breathe first, though.”

Grillby chuckled and let the pillow drop to the floor, lowering his knees and shifting so he was reclining at an angle before opening his arms to Sans. Sans crawled over and settled himself in the bartender’s lap, arms wrapped around his torso and head resting on his chest. Grillby pressed play on the remote, starting the show again before letting his arms fall gently over Sans’s back as he held him close. Sans felt the warmth envelope him and sighed, content. “Hey, Grillbz?”

“Hm?” Grillby looked down at him with a tilt of his head. Sans’s soul melted a bit under the gently, caring gaze. God, this monster was going to be the death of him.

“Thank you,” Sans mumbled.

Grillby gave him a small smile, bringing one hand up to briefly cup the back of Sans’s skull. “You’re welcome. So long as I’m here, I’m going to keep you safe. You mean the world to me, Sans.”

And oh, if that didn’t make Sans feel like the luckiest monster alive.

They settled into a comfortable silence, watching the cartoon play on. As the night wore on, Sans found himself starting to doze in Grillby’s arms, yawning as he fought to keep his eye sockets open. “Hey, Grillbz?” he mumbled, “Maybe we should…” He trailed off as he looked up, smiling. Grillby’s head rested against the back of the couch, the fire monster fast asleep. Sans levitated the remote to himself, determined not to wake Grillby as he turned the TV off before cuddling closer and closing his eyes. Who needed beds, anyway?

Grillby was the warmest pillow he could ask for.

I hope you enjoyed this one! If you did like it, why not reblog/leave a comment to let me know your favorite part? As always, thank you for reading!

[ohlovelywar]

stan the gay’s wingman

you asked, and you shall receive…. a couple years later because i completely forgot that this was sitting in here everyone i’m sooooo sorry

now, it was no secret to literally anyone how annoying richie tozier and eddie kapsbrak could possibly be, much less the losers club

and it was even LESS of a secret how annoyed stanley uris would be by the two’s constant bickering 

the losers didn’t know what stan knew though

and BOY did that make things so much more entertaining 

ask anyone in derry, maine and they would tell you that richie and eddie argued like they were an old, married couple 

however, stan was the only human being to actually KNOW what’s hidden beneath the bickering 

the losers club all guessed it was some sort of love but it was never confirmed to them 

but stanley could SENSE it with his gaydar  eyes

the gay 

it all became crystal clear a few months before ben showed the losers his club house for them. 

after a rather unfortunate game of truth or dare, stan our local gay whisperer, ended up putting two and two together 

“holy shit, they actually like each other!” 

“what was that stan?” 

“i said your farm’s nice mike!” slight gay panic 

and after tracking the two down separately and having a long talk, they both admitted their crushes on each other 

“dear diary, i am a motherfucking genius! sincerely, stanley uris. p.s.: sorry for cursing!” 

now that THAT was out of the way, stan’s work was done…at least that’s what he thought

u see,,, richie and eddie aren’t just gay, no no, they’re gay DISASTERS

and since stan the man’s the only one who knows naturally he’s the one they come to for help

“i need to blow richie’s socks off with this date!” stan’s got the place “how do i get eddie a gift for his birthday that says i’m really happy you’re alive but you’re also the biggest pain in my ass most days” stan has that mostly to do with richie let’s just be honest here

stan was the super genius mastermind behind for the big moments in their relationship, as well as the one to make sure the two idiots didn’t go screwing up the great thing they have

“listen we all fucking know u use humor as a defense mechanism because you’re scared to get close to people just for them to leave you but if you could just pleaseee for ONCE in your life respond to a question like a normal human being so your boyfriend doesn’t ditch your ass for someone who doesn’t openly talk about fucking his mother every two seconds” “….an ‘i’m doing great richie’ would’ve been nice-“ “WHAT DID I JUST!2?3)2?2)2”

poor boy’s diary sees all the drama

“if eddie would just TELL richie that he actually doesn’t hate how much he makes fun of his asthma cause it’s the only time anyone believes he’s able to do anything a boy his age can do and won’t coddle him BUT NOOOOO NO ONE TAUGHT THESE TWO BASIC COMMUNICATION SKILLS”

he’s put his own blood sweat and tears into this relationship he’s not about to watch it fall apart cause their preschool teachers never taught them the “i feel” lesson

“listen you dumb asses we leave for college in TWO MONTHS! in two months we’re going to be adults so you both better start acting like it and start actually TALKING to each other instead of bitching about why you can’t appreciate your boyfriend to his face to me and my diary! I SAID ZIP IT RICHIE!!”

yes they made up and richie did make fun of stan’s diary

it’s not like his efforts went unnoticed oh no

the two may be gay disasters but they’re thankful gay disasters put some respect in their names🗣🗣🗣

the day after their anniversary richie and eddie make sure to give stan a gift every year as a thank u for helping them last this long

“really if it wasn’t for you his trash mouth would’ve stayed single years ago!!!” “WELL URE ONE TO TALK?!???” “i know…and i know…”

everyone stay thank you stanley uris!!!

BONUS!!

“now,,,, you think we can set him and mike up?” “stan got us together how are can it be!”