#and second of all please read this fic bc its anything and everything you could ever want from a fng fic

[darlingdaisyfarm]

oohhh ok this is so self indulgent but do you think you could do a short fic with ford comforting his fem!s/o that's crying because she doesn't feel like she's pretty enough? thank you lots of love 🥺🩷

prettier than a supernova | Ford Pines x reader

some people give compliments. Ford Pines gives a full scientific breakdown of how breathtaking you are

a/n: this is my soft little love letter to anyone who needs a reminder that they're perfect as they are. sometimes you need someone like Ford to tell you you’re worth more than the stars themselves. angel i hope this makes you feel warm and loved. just a little something to remind you that no matter what, you are stunningly, breathtakingly beautiful (also this can be read as gender neutral too!! this photo here is bc i love it and i think it just suits ford bc of sweater)

You don’t mean to start crying, you don’t want to. You press the heel of your palm to your cheek, frustrated. But that ugly feeling has been sitting inside you all day, heavily pressing against your ribs. Stupid, you think, you shouldn’t be crying over something like this. But it happens anyway as tears starts streaming down your face before you even realise what’s happening.

It started earlier. You’d caught your reflection in the mirror and for a second you had seen yourself the way you feared everyone else did. wrong. Lacking. Not enough. You ignored it at first, shoved it down, swallowed the bitter taste of self-doubt like it was nothing. But then it came back.

You thought Ford wouldn't notice, being too busy in his studies. But in the perfect silence of the Shack, your quiet sobs sounded louder than his own breathing.

“Darling,” Ford sets his book aside without hesitation. “come here.” his voice, as always sounds so quiet and calm, but it’s the way he holds out his arms that undoes you completely. There’s no question, no hesitation, just him, offering warmth, safety, attention, care.

So you go, you let yourself sink into his lap, curling up against his chest and the moment his arms come around you, your sobs break free. You press your face into his sweater, gripping the fabric and shut your eyes tightly.

Ford just holds you. No words, no shushing, he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t tell you to stop crying, doesn’t try to fix you. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head as he lets you cry, lets you bury yourself in his warmth, lets you be small in his arms. And you cry a little harder because no one’s ever done this before, not like this. No one’s ever let you be messy and sad and vulnerable and still held you like you’re worth something.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs after a while, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. ”talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You shake your head because the words feel ridiculous and too embarrassing. But Ford just waits patiently, his hand never stopping its slow motions against your back.

After a while you whisper. “i. . . don’t feel pretty enough.”

Ford stays silent. The sentence you said doesn’t compute, the equation is missing a crucial variable. His brain thinks. You've just said something factually incorrect.

He is quiet long enough that you regret saying anything at all.

“Not pretty enough?” you wince at how ridiculous it sounds when he says it. You stay silent again. “talk to me, please, you’re too important to me to watch you do this to yourself.” last words didn’t come out the way he had planned, but it doesn't matter. The sadness in your eyes is enough to make him want to shield you from everything that ever made you doubt yourself.

“I don’t know, Ford, sometimes i just feel. . . just not enough.”

Ford takes a deep sigh and pulls back to see your face. His hands come up, six fingers framing your cheeks gently.

“But, love,” he brushes away the lingering tears on your skin. “who put that idea in your head?”

“Just. . . my brain, i guess.”

Ford frowns at that response, trying to figure out how to undo that thought that’s been rooted in you for too long.

“Listen to me, you are the most stunning, breathtaking person i have ever had the privilege of knowing.”

You sniffle, trying to look away, but he doesn’t let you, tilting your chin up until you meet his gaze.

“Not just beautiful,” he continues, “though you are, undeniably. But everything. Your mind, your heart, the way you see the world, i have never known anyone like you. And i never will. You are brilliant and strong in ways i could never hope to be.”

You avoid his gaze, looking down despite his tries to keep your eyes on him. Ford notices, of course he does, he always does and before you can fall apart all over again, he kisses you. So soft, a gentle press of his warm lips, reassuring you. “I wish you could see yourself the way i see you.” he says quietly into your lips. But you shake your head and pull away, laughing through your tears, feeling how emotions overwhelm you again.

“Ford, no—“

“No,” he interrupts and you notice how his voice gets more serious. “you need to hear this. After spending thirty years traveling through dimensions, seeing entire different galaxies and universes, watching alien creatures with more eyes than you can count, none of them, not a single one of them, come close to how breathtakingly beautiful you are.”

You make a small, broken sound and Ford just holds you closer as he continues. You’re speechless, heart hammering in your chest.

“And don’t get me started on physics,” he laughs softly, pulling you against his chest and caressing your hair. “you are more fascinating than a perfectly symmetrical snowflake viewed under a microscope. More miraculous than the way hydrogen atoms fused together for billions of years just to create you. Darling, i’ve held technology so advanced it blurred the line between magic and science. But none of it, none of it, has ever left me as breathless as you do.”

He’s so serious, absolutely devastatingly serious. You don't know if it's the exhaustion or the overwhelming love in his genuine voice, but another real sob breaks out of you before you can stop it as you hug him tighter.

“I really. . . just really wish you could see yourself the way i see you. You are the most extraordinary thing i have ever encountered and i have traveled across the multiverse.” and it's damn truth because when Ford looks at you, he sees more than just a person. He sees a universe, complex and ever-expanding, a mystery he will spend his lifetime trying to understand and yet, always be awed by.

Your chest is aching. It’s too much, he’s too much. So you do the only thing you can think of. You kiss him. It's kinda messy, still wet with your tears, but Ford doesn’t care because the second your lips touch his, he pours all his feelings into it, one hand tangling in your hair, the other gripping your waist, pulling you closer until there is no space left between you, reminding you of just how much he cherishes you, in every universe, in every corner of space and time.

And that's all you ever needed, to be held like the most beautiful thing in his entire universe.

“If the universe is infinite, then so is my love for you. If the stars will burn for billions of years, then let me love you for all of them.”

Ford cradles you against his chest, rocking you in his arms in a slow, soothing motion to calm his beloved. And for the first time in a long time, the voice in the back of your mind, telling you you're not enough, fades away replaced with the warmth of Ford's love.

“So, no, honey. I don't want to hear you ever say you’re not pretty again. Not when you're the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. Not when i know you are worth more than every star, every dimension, every equation in existence.” you pull him closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart as you close your eyes, smiling softly.

The first rule of observation is to watch closely, to notice every detail, to understand what no one else does. And Stanford notices everything about you.

[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

[sossi-still-dreamin]

blue lock fics

because i read too much fanfiction and maybe you do too... otherwise known as a masterlist of this month's best fics *blue lock edition*

note: almost everything is a oneshot unless otherwise noted

nagireo (my otp in bllk, this ship is unbeatable):

my boy's got his own ringtone by okwa - for those of you who like the streamer kuroken social media style fics, this one is for you! huge kenma energy here, nagi is a streamer and he only picks up calls from one particular ringtone... fans speculate.. hee hee

you're drowning in the pit of my stomach by breathepurple (bleedpurple) - my personal favorite nagireo fics, 8 chsoulmate au + college au featuring bachisagi. nagi and reo have been together for years without their soulmate marks... but they must be soulmates, right? ermmmm or not. aaand cue reo's spiral, nagi's confusion, and rin having the most tragic story ever. LOVES

everything and anything by breathepurple (bleedpurple) (this is not an actual fic)

friendship is magic (i'm begging you, please want me) by luffia - canon compliant fic in which shidou realizes that reo can copy sae... and yea you know what he does with that. nagi gets jealous, pines, reo is confused, and in some quirky ahh way shidou is the best and worst wingman ever

seishirou nagi’s guide to make your friend fall for you through flirting - a really really really good nagireo 5+1 fic in which nagi *tries* really REALLY hard to flirt. but you and i both know nagi is a little slow and the flirting... yikes... but they still end up together so he must've done something right! another one of my favorites :D

and they were roommates - a nagireo fic on bltv being a live tv show… everyone speculates, reo realizes, trying to be discrete, minor half breaking up, zero angst

nagireo hanahaki fics (idk why ppl like depressing fics but also i do bc i'm one of those ppl)

fall forward/spring back by nagireo (happy clover) - reo has hanahaki, happens during bluelock (3 ch)

but could you adore me? by breathepurple - nagireo hanahaki fic but tHIS tIMe NAGI gets the hanahaki! (2 ch)

kaisagi:

you're cute by blue0rangeade - an 11 ch pre-bllk fic in which isagi gets chucked to germany for two months and meets... kaiser... and then they meet again! in bllk! yayyyyy this one is rly rly good i was so invested

shirt by jehielshan- ohhh the second hand embarrassment in this one... but its sO good... a post-canon oneshot kaisagi fic (and a/b/o) in which isagi accidentally steps onto the field in kaiser's shirt...

birds and wings by pistatsia - a 15 ch pre-canon? kaisagi fic in which kaiser gets injured, goes to japan to recover... and meet isagi! teaches isagi to do soccer and all that fun stuff

overloaded by no_3- a kaisagi oneshot in which isagi (basically) borderline faints again bc of metavision, super overwhelmed and such but kAIsEr is there... the actual fic is okay but the text fonts and effects are soOOO cool!

he goes to a different school by opposition- a kaisagi 11 ch fic where the bluelockers all dont believe isagi has a hot, famous, soccer player boyfriend but he does…

bachisagi >v<

love bites by j_jabbers- hee hee bachisagi oneshot that is exactly as it sounds, in which bachira likes to erm bite isagi randomly. but its sOO cUte!

other:

ego jinpachi: the world’s most unwitting and unwilling matchmaker by starstruckdove- pfffft a nagireo, bachisagi, + a ton of other ship fic that has soOOo much crack. very amusing to read, had me dying, and ego poor poor ego who needs to bleach his eyes now, a fan favorite

valentines day at blue lock by sephlav- a supercute fluffly fic with a couple of ships on valentines dayyyy

he’s the one i dream of by seventies- no. 1 in the fandommmm, an isagi/everyone fic that is seriously so funny, i'm sorry pls give it a chance

enjoy! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[kamaela]

a year of fandom in recs

cutie pie @garagepaperback tagged me in a 2024 fandom wrap up post and so yeah, i'll hop on the sentimental train. i've been inspired by so many things this year and i shall do my best to honour them in the rambling list below!

--

having previously been an avid lurker, i've thoroughly enjoyed making friends with some truly inspiring people in this fandom. without a doubt this has been a bright, bright spot on my year and im so grateful! you're all so wonderful and i love you and hope you know that.

@kk1smet has been a source of joy and inspiration from the start. my first ever fic (Got Me Started) was inspired by their prompts, and then my first ever fest fic (Mirror, Me) was sparked by their stunning art. THEN they honoured me with my first ever fanart for my fic (To Be Punished). im so blessed to call them a friend!

i can draw a straight line from every single word i've posted on ao3 to the fanworks that inspired them. ive read/seen sooo many wonderful things this year and it's impossible for me to name them all. ive picked out a few below the cut that are directly responsible for lighting a fire in me so strong i had to write that shit down. if you haven't already, please give some of these fanworks a go, they're all top notch.

+ @yiiiiiiiikes25 wrote cruising altitude from the raven cycle fandom and it fucking rocked my world. i am telling you right now, i have never read anything like it. it is an absolute masterclass in craft. every single word is thoughtful and precise. i thought i knew what voice and diction and pov were and how they can be used to tell the story you want to tell but really, i had no idea. yikes has this way of pulling you so deeply into a characters pov that its honestly disorienting to come out of. i fell in love with these random boys from a fandom i'd never read nor cared for, and i keep going back. i don't care if you are drarry monogamous, if you want to experience some of the best this dumb hobby we're all addicted to has to offer, i implore you, go read cruising altitude. go. GO. and then go read the rest of yikes catalogue bc ofc they also do drarry impeccably.

+ @garagepaperback i read this heaven of mud and haven't been the same since. then i read javelin and ive been permanently altered once more. not only is garage directly responsible for exes becoming my all time favourite trope, but the way they explore the deep, long-lasting effects of trauma (in these and all your other fics) is second to none! its incredibly beautiful and impactful and has left such as lasting impression on me. and all that is wrapped up in some of the most poetic and stunning prose ive ever had the pleasure of reading?!?!! get out of here (but also please dont i value our friendship dearly)

+ @mintawasalreadytaken i read All I Want For Kwithmath and then i went on a tear and read most of their Dead Drarry: Do Not Eat series and honestly had the BEST TIME. they write some of the greatest toxic, kinky, fucked up drarry, but somehow make it so i really fucking care about these two idiots, and want the best for them?? minta is so good at hooking you right from the top and then pounding those hooks in deeper and deeper. the end result is that i now cradle toxic drarry in my hands and wont ever let them go (and sometimes I even try writing them)

+ @eleadore's as the plant that never blooms and everything i could ever want helped to shape and sand the edges of the drarry dynamic i love and want to write! el writes some of the hottest, most rewarding, prickly to tender drarry out here. pls run don't walk.

+ @faiell and i shared our drarry fic debuts on ao3 this year and their fic, Purple, absolutely blew me out of the water. it's expertly written, hot as fuck, contains the shifting power dynamics that are at the core of what i love about drarry, and has SUCH A satisfying ending. i was grinning and cackling for about 3-4 business days after reading. (also peep their tumblr to scream at their art) fai, i've said it before and ill say it again, i'll follow you into fire, i really will.

this post is getting far far too long but i cannot end it without also mentioning some (not exhaustive) of the STAND OUT creators i've had the pleasure of experiencing for the first time this year. i'll include a rec (all drarry unless stated otherwise) + whatever unhinged drivel i put in my bookmark for each but it goes without saying that the talent runs deep and id rec multiple creations from these guys if this post wasn't already novel length.

@citrusses' Our Objective Remains Unchanged: THE drarry muggle au. reread a 100x material

@oknowkiss' draco malfoy's substitute murder service: this made me laugh out loud at several points and its only 10k!!!! also draco is simply lovely, i love him so so so so very much i want to be his friend and just listen to him talk and be insane. this whole thing is thoroughly enjoyable.

@mono-chromia's Red Wine Supernova: everything about this is wonderful, the relationship development, the sex, the writing. you'll want draco to step on your face after reading.

@putridpommes' [ART] Step by step (NSFW): sub harry. draco stepping on face. neon and sweat. what more do you need.

Helenish's A Soft Spot For Lost Causes (draco/ron): trauma treated kinda unserious but still seriously. gorgeous dialogue.

wild (orphaned): Okay so the banter/dialogue is unmatched, the relationship development bw draco and harry is soooo realistic and so delicious. a study on learning about yourself what it means to forgive

corvuscrowned's An Emerald In The Sky: stretched and pulled taut by this story, perfect longing/pining/yearning, heartbreaking and beautiful

peu_a_peu's The Superfluous Man: utterly delightful, hilarious, i want to stay in the feeling this fic gave me forever and ever. never not thinking about flustered yet domestic draco, endless quotes. An mpreg?? WHAT?? it's peu.

@stratigraphywrites' Untouched: this is delicious!!!! the push and pull between draco and harry is expert. extremely extremely hot

@lemonlimelea's we'll start anew: yeah this is wayyyy stunning, gorg writing, long time span capturing all different facets of harry and draco's relationship

@hephaestiions' It's You: one of those ones that leaves you panting and scratching the walls, crying for more.

okay if you read all this, thank you i love you. happy new year!

No pressure tagging any of the above plus @dryrsheet @its-the-allure @phoenixortheflame @smehur. would love to read about your year in review!

[nyxi-pixie]

Hiiiii.

Sorry to bother you, I wanted to know if you had any fic recs? Your writing is so good and your tastes are immaculate, and I am starving for any kind of good content. Please?

its not possible to bother me love dw <3

NOW. i dont actually read all that much anymore bc i am horrendously picky but this does give me an excuse to hype up the few authors that have satisfied my unreasonably specific tastes 🤩.

so. a few bsd recs for you (except theyre 99% skk because im horribly predictable forever). everyone go read all of these and tell the authors how wonderful they are in the comments please <3

anything @booksandpaperss has ever written is genius work and everyone should read it. could talk abt all of their stuff for hours (and i have🤩 they put up w so much of me bothering them godbless). also our brains do some accidental crazy mind melding shit whenever either of us write fic so if you like any of my stuff you will like theirs. thats the rules. <3

like twin stars in the dark (we collide)- dead apple skk porn as a vehicle for 22skk analysis. makes me salivate i have read it so many times. they get 22skk better than anyone🙏

my lies are for you to keep (my love for you to lose) - the only take on beastskk that matters to me ever. you can actually see me losing my mind in the comment i wrote on this fic bc of how fucking insane every single line made me. theres SO much packed into this thing its fucking crazy i NEEEEED everyone to read it. thats all <3

till death, I'll give you my breath - dazai death timeloop. this fic terrifies me so much i await every update with my teeth chattering and my heart pulsing so rapidly i should be hospitalised. the first scene of chapter 2 genuinely had me on the verge of tears im unwell about it.

(elli also has some jjk stuff thats REALLYREALLY good and if ur into jjk u should check that out too.)

NOW. aside from being a propaganda machine for my fav writer ever. Heres some other stuff i love.

the second perspective by @wildflowerteas. murder mystery/detective noir stuff w some time fuckery. the au of all time. mashes aspects of beast, canon, and some extra special niko sauce into a mixing bowl and goes crazy w it. just Such a genuinely impressive piece of writing. i could talk abt the technical brilliance of it for hours but i will stop myself. you gotta commit to this thing because it WILL make u crazy. also i loveee the sskk. its like if we had the beast first meeting sskk forever. SOSO GOOD!!!!

did fate guide the gun or did you? by @kanetheo. i read this pretty soon after chapter 109 and it genuinely fried my brain for months. the writing style is beautiful (as for everything they write AUGHH!!!) and the angst is delectable. the way it intersperses more fun silly skk moments with just. complete misery. GOD. it just hits. ive reread it quite a few times and it never fails to make me go crazy. srsly cannot rec this enough.

the decomposition of dazai osamu by @hella1975 this shot several bullets through my brain and i still havent recovered. i keep thinking 'oh i should reread that' and then i dont bc some part of my brain still concerns itself w maintaining whats left of my sanity. BUT its crazy good and everyone should read it and suffer at least once. EVERYONE LOVES YOU OSAMU!!!! EVERYONE EATS YOU!!! line of all time lets all kill ourselves.

smoke held conversations by feralrookie - i havent reread this in a while but it does cool stuff with nlh and the skkisms are really good in this too. ppl often write teen chuuya as less intelligent than he actually is. hes very observant, esp of dazai, and this fic gave me that 🙏

i called your name til the fever broke by forest_raccoon - vampire chuuya. biting is involved. i blacked out reading it. enough said.

[memberment]

GOOD MORNING EVERYONE

So the Trinitarians brain worm is back and Morning Glory is now longer and biting the dust as far as my focus goes.

But like, I genuinely want to talk to anyone who's invested in what's to come as far as part two goes. SO PLEASE. I IMPLORE THE FOUR OF YOU WHO PERPETUALLY TAKE NOTICE OF MY SCREAMS INTO THE VOID.

We're all aware that Trin is a time loop fic. That is confirmed.

BUT THE PROBLEM IS HOW I'M GOING ABOUT DOING THAT. AND I NEED INPUT FROM PEOPLE THAT ARE NOT ME AS FAR AS PLEASES AND SPARKLES GO, YES?

Because like sure I'm writing it and like fuck everything else, let me tell my story. But it's the how of it all like if I'm gonna throw another 200 give or take hours into this I would at least like one person to be having a wonderful time drinking and driving (I have since remembered this is not a common phrase, I do not mean this in a literal sense, it's an expression) with me right?

Part two is going to be 50 chapters, give or take. (Part one is about 37 for reference.)

So the plan for part 2 rn is (ROGUHLY):

(1-10) is the second timeline. There are a lot of importants and I cannot just glaze over it all more than that. But we're also working in a bit of a shorter time period than the original events of the story and introductions do not need to happen again, right?

(11-40)ish would be me running through the next timelines in a set up structure -> what changes -> the results of said changes and then inevitably what sends our looper backwards. It wouldn't be running through all the timelines but the more notable ones in kind of a four chapter structure, I am not fully sold on four, but rough estimate yk.

And then 41-50 would be the finale of part two. It's literally the last timeline in its glory and then the epilogue which kicks off part three.

COULD AT LEAST ONE OF Y'ALL SIT THROUGH THAT OR DO YOU GUYS HAVE ANY NOTES AT ALL BECAUSE LIKE

I personally kinda like it but if not a soul is reading this I am throwing myself on the curb with the rest of the garbage LMFAOOO.

I NEED THOUGHTS. OPINIONS. COMMENTS. CONCERNS. ANYTHING.

Anyways, I'm going to work. I have off tomorrow and I broke the ff investment seal for today so insanity and updates will be here tonight and homework will be tomorrow.

HOPE EVERYONE HAS A GOOD DAY <3

(9:30) I am literally falling asleep as I lazily write this angel based on Danse Macabre. Expect all of maybe one more update tonight if the tacos I am abt to receive don't wake me up LMFAO.

Also, I am almost saddened by not having something to post tm. Anyone want an early chapter of something that isn't Genesis/Desolation bc they're both on Monday?????? (I am feeling like a menace rn)

(10:19) tacos and the absolute yap session I just had did wake me up a bit. MAAAYBE might write some more. Idk I slept like three hours last night and went to work I'm kinda dead. But we're at 98.2k!!!!!!🥳

(11:06) okay we made it to 99.6k everything besides the flashback for 31 is done. I'm about to relax and watch something and figure out mechanics of some of this because god this series is A BEAST. Like, I still have six planned chapters left.

Pure insanity. I love it here. I hate it here.

Holy shit wait I just came to the realization that I started this fic exactly one month ago. I have belted out 99.6k for THIS FIC ALONE. (Moreso if we're including future shit that hasn't happened yet)

IN ONE MONTH.

THAT IS FUCKING CRAZY WHAT HTE FUCK LMFAOOOO

I may or may not be cooking we’ll find out in 6-26 business hours

(5:28) So I just had a very interesting past few business hours. I read a fic I've been waiting ever so patiently to finish. That's cool, right. I go for a walk at 4 in the morning because I'm insane. Fantastic. I get home at five and I'm like ohhhh well what do I do now it's not sleep time yet. Oh write I'm supposed to be drawing.

Nope I reread the epilogue of morning glory and realized Tweek's first address is for my morning glory and Craig's last sign off is your morning glory and now I'm ready to throw myself on the curb with the garbage as I sob. Someone call a trusted adult for me thanks.

[bish-plz-haha]

Bungo Stray Dogs: my thoughts

So I'm not caught up on the manga (I'm trying). But I caught up on the anime and

HOLY

SHIT

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I actually screamed at the second to last ep.

*Spoilers ahead*

I COULDNT HANDLE CHUUYA - AS A "VAMPIRE" - SHOOTING DAZAI. OH MY GOD.

But everything is okay because that's not the case. But I also watched it in Dub (bc I was trying to cruise through it because its been a hot minute since I've caught up on anime) and DAZAI SAID FUCK AND IM LIVING FOR IT! Chuuya too. I was giggling like a maniac when I heard Chuuya say "You fucked up, detective agency!" Then continue to fuck up the Hunting Dogs.

PLEASE SOMEONE TELL ME IS TACHIHARA OKAY?!?!? (I swear I'm reading the manga. This weekend I'm planning on reading it all the way.)

Also, I absolutely loved seeing how the agency was formed. What got me was Yosuno and her ties to the mafia. I literally doubletake-d and screamed "WhaT??" and my family thought I was nuts. Maybe I am. Its fine.

But s5 broke my heart and I'm like, over it. I need some Shin Soukoku fighting together again.

Also, can we talk about Ranpoe??? I absolutely love them, and I think they're now my third favourite ship in the series. Behind SSK and SSKK, of course. I dunno if I could see most of the ships. But, no hate to it if you do ship it because I believe we should ship what we want without judgement (FICTIONAL CHARACTERS MEN! FICTIONAL CHARACTERS!), I absolutely despise Fyozai. I just... no.

Though I do think Fyodor was a very cool character—a little boring—but interesting. Especially with his understanding of Dazai's intellect. Now I think the character with the most depth is Ranpo. Like, man's backstory - the little we know, is quite interesting. It makes me think about a lot.

Also, why is the story character based, not world based, when we know so much more about the world than we do the characters?? Like we know a little about a lot of the characters but know a lot about the world. It's insane. I love character based stories because I feel knowing the characters builds the world.

But the most we know is: Atsushi is an abused orphan; Dazai is an ex mafia member; Kenji is scary; Ranpo is an orphan too who is actually gifted with intellect instead of an ability - though it kind of is an ability; Fukuzawa is an ex assassin; Yosuno hates her ability because she was forced by Mori to keep soldiers alive during the gifted war when they just wanted to die; Kunikida is an ex maths teacher; Chuuya is a human that was experimented on so he's basically part yōkai/ayakashi (Thank you Noragami for introducing me to that delightful word—it's basically a word to describe supernatural beings/creatures and lord knows what Chuuya actually is); Tanizaki is... I don't remember anything specific about him and Naomi...; Tachihara is not a mafia member but rather a military officer sworn to get revenge on Yosuno (she didn't do anything except keep his brother alive - poor babies. She was forced to as well, which, in my opinion, makes it worse); Akutagawa is sick (I swear to god if the series ends without him...); Gin is Akutagawa's sister (HC Gin is enby); Mori was an underground doctor before he slit the previous bosses throat.

Like barely anything about a single character. Just bits and pieces for each. Those are just the main ones I remember.

Anyway~

Goodbye!

OH btdubs! I'm writing a skk au fic/one-shot based off s5 ending but also dead apple. Might post the link here. Idk yet. 🤷‍♂️

[bookworm-2692]

About a week ago I finally finished bookbinding @airdeari‘s beautiful Zero Escape fic The First Nonary Game. It took about a month (between all the waiting for glue to dry and also several days each week when I was unable to work on it), and was so much fun! It’s so satisfying to just... hold this book in my hands. 

Details about how I made it, along with additional photos (and commentary) below the cut.

So I came across this post on Tumblr, which immediately inspired me to try bookbinding myself. I spent a few days watching so many tutorials from the youtube channel linked in the post (I’ll link the specific tutorials I used in this post), and googling how to actually manage to print pages so they form proper signatures, because the inbuilt booklet creator in Word doesn’t exist in my Word apparently so that’s fun.

Anyway, once I started, I asked @airdeari for permission to print and bind his fic, and he immediately said yes, so that was good. Then I spent a good couple of days copying the entire fic into a Word document, and fiddling with formatting so it would look like an actual book (section breaks, page numbers, headers with the fic title on the left page and chapter title on the right page (this took ages to work and I kept on stuffing it up), and making sure things just... looked nice. I added in the art After The War that @keycrash created specifically for the fic (third pic above), and an “afterword” containing credit and links and the author’s notes from AO3 (because even if I’m the only one who will ever see it, it still feels weird to not add the credit stuff in so it’s there).

I then saved the document as a PDF, and used CheapImposter to correctly shuffle (impose, hence “imposter”) the pages so when folded into signatures, each page would be in the correct order. This program was the first free one I could find, and was great because you could specify the number of sheets you want per signature, rather than stuck with a default. I chose to have 11 signatures of 6 sheets of paper, since that was the amount that would have the least blank pages and the end of the book. The file was 261 pages, so with two pages per side, and two sides per sheet, you divide the number of pages by 4 to get 66 sheets of paper

I then printed. There was only one (1) paper jam in the process, which was great. Unfortunately, I realised after I printed that one of the headers for one chapter was wrong (I hadn’t properly disconnected the two chapters), but fortunately that only involved reprinting 4 sheets of paper.

I used the following tutorials to make the books: DIY Textblock, a general “how to make a textblock” tutorial; DIY Kettle Stitch, a specific look at the stitching for a textblock, since the first tutorial doesn’t focus on this; DIY Book Cloth, since I chose to use fabric for my cover; and DIY Hardcover Book, how to put all those pieces together.

So then I started folding all the signatures. I was watching so much Brooklyn Nine-Nine during both the folding and stitching sections, since it was repetitive actions I didn’t need to concentrate on that lasted hours.

It was at this point that I sliced each signature one by one to make the end smoother and less pointy. In future I recommend not doing it at this point - wait until the very end. Instead, move straight onto stitching. 

I don’t have any photos of the stitching portion, since my phone died the morning I started the stitching, and I wasn’t able to replace it until after all the stitching was done. In fact, originally all the photos from before the stitching were lost too. It was only about two days ago that magically the My Photo Stream thing kicked in and brought back all the photos - if it had worked two weeks earlier I would’ve had more. As it is, all photos from September to January are gone forever, unfortunately. But that’s another discussion entirely.

The above is the first book photo on my new phone, so as you can see, all the stitching was completed, the spine was glued, and the purple paper attached. I couldn’t buy two A4 sheets, so instead I had to buy one A3 sheet and cut it in half. Which was difficult cycling home from the city with an A3 sheet that didn’t fit in my bag on account of being A3 and not A4, but oh well.

I don’t have a book press, so I used a pile of DND books and my brother’s weights instead, as shown below.

I then had to re-slice the book after this point bc my first go wasn’t even, on account of slicing each signature separately. Next time definitely I’ll just do it at the end like this. I then also sanded it to make it smoother. It’s still not perfect, but it’s something that’ll take practice and patience so.

Next I made the book cloth, which involves using appliqué sheets to combine cotton fabric and tissue paper. But first I want to talk about the fabric I chose for the cover, because I’m quite proud of it. I spent ages wandering around the shop, trying to find something that fit the feel of the book. Spoilers for the content of the fic if you haven’t read it yet, and also for the source material (999/Zero Escape). I was thinking about some sort of blue swirl thing, because of the Gigantic sinking. I found that, but hesitated because it didn’t fully fit, and my favourite colour is blue so I always pick blue. I also considered flames/fire because of the incinerator thing, but couldn’t find any. I can’t remember if I just couldn’t find any four leaf clover fabric, or if I’ve just since thought about that as a cover. But instead I chose the butterflies below. They fit in several subtle ways that I’m proud of. The colours of blue and pink(/red) matching the receiver and transmitter coding all throughout 999, as well as the moments of purple as well (I don’t think I need to get into that, I’m sure it was analysed to hell and back when the game first came out). The butterflies also point towards the butterfly effect, and in turn the different timelines present in the series. So together it just works. /spoilers over

It’s also just a pretty fabric.

Now the making of the book cloth. I had to make it twice, because I was too impatient the first time, so the iron was too hot and it steamed, which wrinkled and warped the tissue paper, so the fabric was all wrinkly too. The second time took ages and was a worse quality appliqué sheet, but worked well enough anyway.

(My parents: did you have the iron out? what were you ironing? you never iron)

And then I cut the book board to size, using the measurements from the tutorial video. I’ll repeat them here: front and back cover: width = width of textblock minus 3mm, and height = height of textblock plus 6mm, and spine width = width of textblock spine, spine height = same height as covers

I then glued the board onto the book cloth, and put it under the book press. The dnd books are not large enough to cover the whole thing, and also I really wanted the board to stay flat and not curl, so I grabbed way more dnd books and way more of my brother’s weights. I also accidentally started putting the glue on the wrong side of the board (bc one side is smooth and the other is rough), hence the colour difference as well.

The corners were cut and folded and glued over...

And then the textblock was glued in, and put in my book press for a whole weekend. I added a sheet of paper to absorb the glue so the pages wouldn’t become wrinkly, but instead the sheet I added was fine and every other page in the book is wrinkly. So I dunno what happened there. After the weekend I took it out and looked at it, and then put it back for another week to be sure.

And then the complete book is shown at the top of the post!

As I was starting I was talking a lot about it, like about the process I had to go through, or how I was going to obtain what I needed, etc. Mum asked if she could read the story. I froze, like a deer in the headlights... because this is a fanfic. She saw my fear and immediately backed down, explaining she only wanted to read it because if the story was that important to me that I was going to literally turn it into a book, she wanted to read it to yknow like know me better or something? Which makes sense. And when I got over my initial reaction, and remembered that indeed it was technically my dad who introduced me to fanfic, and thought about it more, I said okay. Because since the fic is technically a prequel to the first game, and most of the characters are technically OC’s (like, from the first game we know that all eighteen children must exist, but most of them don’t have names or anything so they are effectively OC’s), then knowledge of source material isn’t strictly necessary. This fic can probably be enjoyed on its own. I mean I’ll probably have to explain the concept of morphogenetic fields, and the last four chapters might not make sense? But I’m okay for my mum to read it. So when she’s less busy at work I’m going to download the epub onto her phone for her - we’ll see how it goes.

Anyway, this fic is a masterpiece, extremely well written and I highly recommend it. As said, most of the characters are effectively OC’s, and yet they are all given such rich histories and personalities. All of them have access to the morphogenetic field, so I’m just so glad that @airdeari​ explores nine unique relationships with the field - nine unique sibling dynamics, and esper powers and abilities. It’s just so good.

[dyedfrog]

the ULTIMATE OMORI fanfic recs because one of my favs just ended and it deserves more recognition!!

Okay lets start this off with the one in question (also not in any particular order)

These Days Without You by Smitty1899. absolutely beautiful, please read it this fanfic needs more of a community around it

By Your Side Once More, or, How Sunny Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Occult by Keltikknight. the suzuki siblings and their immaculate sense of humour. thats all i have to say

A New Dawn In Sunless Skies by letos. i wish this one would update again its got such a cool premise.

Sinking and Heroism by TenPes. linking them together because they're not part of a series.

The Faraway Event by kinemortomoli. me putting this here is actually a cry for help. i dont think this fanfic is dead but i cant suffer alone

Tired by Sunburner. this is pretty short and sweet (more like sad, depending on your ending preference)

DEADSPACE by Es_Novels. this one is so eerie as many zombie fanfics are, but i think the imagery makes this one take the cake

Car Trouble by Smitty1899. oh my god

Birthday Picnic by ToxicPineapple. poor kel. he saw mari like a big sister

stuck on one day for the rest of my life by lowbatteryhealth. we as a fandom need more hero angst

Reciting Wrongly by JonRightBackAtcha. not gonna say anything, just read it

Other Half of The Whole by JonRightBackAtcha. did not realise this and 11 were written by the same person. huh.

Fates of Damnation by Anonymous. oh my got two electric boogaloo

heat haze by crowcinthus. as someone who knows nothing about kagerou project wow

The Healing Properties of Reading a Book Out Loud to Your Loved Ones, and Other Domestic Bullshit by Prince_Enby. this ones good even if it hasnt updated in a while

In Which Sunny Is Bad At Naming Things by Prince_Enby. let me introduce you to the chatfic ever

I'll Cherish You Forever by phoeberrie. tiny bit hesitant to recommend this one bc of the themes but there is another fanfic later on this list with similar themes that is basically on every omori rec list ever so just a warning for stalking, obsession and gore. also, heed the tags. its good but not everyone will be comfortable with it.

Sorry as Can Be, For Whatever That Means by JonRightBackAtcha. quite a few fanfics by this author on here. but what can i say, they're great.

sinking. by marlkarx1. this is really good, also pretty dark. heed the tags.

Despite everything by Aisenic_Warrior. another legendary fic with no updates for over a year.

Sometimes a Knife Fight at 3am Can Mend Any Friendship by Shrimp_fry_rice. i dont believe it. you're telling me a shrimp frying rice wrote this fic?

Overwatered Garden by otomerson. rip flower boy lmao (im crying)

Picnic with Mari AU by Gornkleschnitzer. just gonna recommend the whole au

One More Time by GalileoGalilei. think of a 'watching the show' fanfic but its omori post-bad ending. now that i think about it, a version of this fic but they're watching an unserious playthrough on youtube would be kind of funny.

Sometimes Goodbye is a Second Chance by Smitty1899. whatever you're expecting to happen, you're wrong.

Amusia by JonRightBackAtcha. the legend. i wonder how many times this author has appeared on this list.

Kel kicks Sunny's door down by otomerson. attempted hikkikomori route

The Everyday Shenanigans of Something by Practicallyunethical. obsessed with the references in here.

Reality Check, Please by Paramocks. this fanfic has the kind of humour that could kill a christian grandmother.

Endless Dreaming by otomerson. this fanfiction is so beautiful it can make a grown man cry and thats okay (i dont know the quote dont kill me) please read it

Their Time by ShardOfHope. man this fanfic HURTS. you better read it.

The House That Breathes by Shifting_Walls. THIS IS SO GOOD

Broken Space by SpoonusBoius. yes, this fanfic is dark, but i feel people greatly exaggerate it. its not darker than pursuit, don't worry.

The Sun in Another Solar System by TellThemNaegi. if you look through this entire list while only reading one fanfic from here, please let it be this one. i have been totally fixated on this one and it deserves a mini-community of its own just like some other aus.

You're back, Mari by Anonymous. i hope you all expected this one. this is the mentioned one on no.17. im not sure how many trigger warnings i need considering this entire fic is so infamous i'd be shocked if someone didn't know. i don't want to risk spoiling it so just look at the tags. i was debating putting the sequel on here but decided against it. after all, the absolutely visceral reaction the pursuit au can garner from the fandom after just being mentioned probably has enough potential for a case study.

And there it is. the ultimate omori fanfic rec list consisting of 35 fanfic recs (I was originally gonna put way more on here but i got lazy near the end and put only my all time favourites)

[thesleepy1]

One Djinn Wish

A/N: @writingmysanity requested a fic where Eskel is being nursed back to health by the reader who is a single mother. There seems to be a recurring theme with the writing prompts that I get. There always seem to be kids or pregnancy involved. A lot of times it’s both. One of these days we are going to have to sit down and unpack all of that. I’ll let you off the hook today, though. Unbeta’d and not proof read as always.

Pairings: Eskel x Single Mother!Reader

Summary: Eskel wakes up with a raging pain in his side and a curious set of eyes on him.

Or, “Eskel waking up to find he's in unfamiliar area, doesn't recognize her bc she saved him and taking care of him Bonus if she's a single mother.”

Word count: 3,862

Warnings: Injury, mention of ambush, miscommunication, protective Eskel,

Part 2

Pain was what brought Eskel back to the world of the living. It was a flaring thing that could not be ignored. He awoke with sweat dripping down his brows and breaths coming in heaves. His eyes fared no better than the rest of his body. The ceiling was a shade of pale pine before everything went dark.

The second time Eskel awoke it was from the much needed breeze of an open window. He smelled earthy wheat, thick flax, and refreshing rice in the air. He concluded with no investigative skills other than his heightened senses that he laid near farmlands. The distinct smell of mud and silt from canals were scents no one could forget. They were the sort to be ingrained in one’s memory. That and the first soft touch in centuries.

“Thank you,” he whimpered to an unknown presence before returning to the embrace of darkness.

The third and final time he awoke, it was to the feeling of eyes on him. He noted that his medallion had not been removed from his body. Its light pressure was still settled around his neck. There was no hum to indicate that the eyes on him meant any harm. If anything, they felt cautious in a curious sense.

It was like his eyelids were laced with lead as he struggled to open them. He resigned himself to his stationary position knowing that any sudden movements would cause the slowly healing wound on his side to ache. Even then, he managed a peer at the set of eyes on his bandaged form. Eskel did not know how he arrived in this building of pale pine, nor how such molten brown eyes could ever exist.

“Morning,” Eskel greeted in a voice he had not used in a while. His throat was dry enough to leave blisters as the walls rubbed against each other. He wanted to groan but knew the sound would only hurt him more.

“You can talk?” whispered the set of brown eyes. The gaze belonged to a child who perched on the edge of Eskel’s cot. Her nails were caked in the same dirt he smelled the second time he woke.

“Mhm,” Eskel hummed, unable to say much until he could remedy his parched throat.

Her eyes light up further at Eskel’s confirmation. She leapt up in excitement and only then did Eskel realize she had been kneeling at the foot of his cot. At full height she was still no taller than the place where Eskel’s ribcage began if he were standing upright. She was still taller than he had been when he was her age. It was clear that she was properly cared for. Not a bone could be seen protruding from her dark skin.

“If you can talk, would you please, please answer my questions?” The girl kneeled by Eskel’s side again. This time she settled herself to the side of Eskel’s cot so he did not need to strain. “I’ll know if you lie as well. I’m very good at finding liars.”

Eskel could not help himself but smile at this. He could hear the girl’s heartbeat and she believed without a doubt her own words. The witcher believed her as well. No good man living would dare lie to such a sweet thing.

Eskel nodded in place of words.

“Do all witchers have cool scars?” she asked in a soft awe, eyes seemingly staring into Eskel’s very soul.

Before he could answer however, the sound of soft footsteps entered the home. He could distantly hear the door closing and the footsteps approaching. Soon, the sound carried to the girl’s ears and she ran somewhere Eskel could not make out. She was a hasty blur of colors, her small legs carrying her faster than any hare. Eskel chuckled in spite of himself.

“You’re awake?” a new voice appeared out of his line of vision. He hummed again to confirm. The footsteps neared him and suddenly his view was overtaken by the sight of Melitele herself. His heart was caught in his dry throat at the sight of you alone. “You suffered quite a blow out there. Do you know how long you have been out?” Even the sound of your voice had him enrapt.

Eskel quickly shook his head before he could make a fool of himself. “Are you able to speak?” you asked him, carefully setting down the basket you had been carrying.

“Yes, though it hurts,” Eskel replied, his voice getting worse by the minute. “Please…water.”

With practiced hands, you brought a cup of water to his head. Eskel made out to raise himself and reach for it but his side called out for him to stop. This time, he could not prevent the whimper of pain from leaving his tongue. The garkain truly did a number on him. The ambush from starving bandits did not help him either.

“Here, let me help.” You left Eskel to the confines of his cot and returned with more pillows. With much patience from both parties and minimal hisses of pain, you helped prop Eskel into a sitting position. This time, he allowed you to bring the water up to his lips and tilt it with a finger until he had his fill. In doing so, you were forced to sit considerably close to him. Your side was lightly pressed against his. The touch was as gentle as the first time he woke.

“Thank you,” he said once you had placed the cup to the side. “For everything. I could not thank you enough.” As a polite afterthought, he added, “I know you had to remove my clothes to get to my wound. I had a pouch of coin tied to me as well. It is not much but I can pay you the rest once I can move again.”

“Nonsense,” you brushed him off, not unkindly. “I’m a healer, it's my job to care for the wounded. I did not get into the profession for the pay, dear witcher.” You peered into his eyes, these jewels that some dull few thought were terrifying. “You can stay here until you’re fully healed. I have no desire for coin but I always have the need for a farmhand if you still insist on repaying me.”

*****

The next few weeks passed in a steady routine. In the mornings you would go out for hours on end to tend to the ill in the village. During the time you were gone, your little girl would keep Eskel company, much to your ignorance. By nightfall, you would always return and your daughter would have ran off before you could scold her for supposedly bothering Eskel.

You would sit by Eskel’s side in the dying daylight and tend to him. Sometimes you were cynical in your actions, checking his bandages and cleaning his wounds without a word uttered. Other times you lingered and spoke to him as if an old friend. The two of you would trade stories, the worse wounds seen and experienced.

On one of these routine days, Eskel placed himself in front of the fire. His wounds had healed up nicely under your care and he was finally permitted to move on his own. He would not be able to properly fight for a while, but the ability to move again was a blessing he did not know he was praying for.

Amelia, your daughter he learned after days under your roof, sat next to him. She was a little ball of energy. That was the only way to describe the way she always needed something in her hands. Amelia was not known for her stillness. The very concept was foreign to her. If her limbs were not preoccupied by scaling a tree then her mouth was talking up a storm. Eskel could not always follow her stream of conversations but he tried his very best to listen attentively.

“You’re a witcher, yes?” Amelia began as she always did. It was as if she needed Eskel to sign off on his credibility every time they spoke. He did not mind her ritual confirmation. Eskel actually found it cute and always hummed or nodded to reply.

“Have you ever fought a dragon before?” she asked curiously, not looking up from her toys. She played with a doll made of sticks, twine, and leaves for hair in one hand. In her other hand was a fable fish woven from palm fronds. The two creatures were either fighting or aggressively embracing, Eskel was never not sure.

“No, but my brother has,” Eskel said, keeping an eye on the roast over the fire. He had helped Amelia prepare their supper earlier that day. She was an excellent cook but was cursed with an ailment that affected all children. She was easily distracted which often times resulted in broths boiling over or meats burned to chars.

“Petros said his father fought a dragon. He’s a boy from the village. I have to go to the well for water and his mother makes him go at the same time.” Amelia brushed her hair from her eyes. Her shaggy haircut had been the aftermath of an unfortunate event where a pair of scissors had been left unattended to. Eskel made a note to himself to weave her a band once he was asked to help in the fields.

“Petros’ father is never around because he’s a knight. That’s why I’ve never met him. Have you?” Amelia asked as if he knew all the knights in the world. Despite the many times he denied that knowledge, she always insisted that a witcher would know every knight there is. “Petros wants to be a knight too. Said that way he could go off and fight alongside his father.”

“That’s a very honorable profession.”

“Last week Petros said his father was a mage,” Amelia smirked, bringing down the fish to attack the doll. Or give it a kiss. Either way, Amelia enjoyed herself. Eskel returned her smile and chuckled at her tale. “Personally, I want to be a pirate.”

Eskel nodded his approval, his smile unfaltering, “Do you know how to swim?”

“No,” Amelia told him honestly, “But I could learn.” Seemingly done with her battle or love story, Amelia tied some twine to a stick she found the day before. She made her doll fish for the palm woven toy. “I’ve already found treasure. I was playing by the fields when I found a djinn’s bottle.” Eskel tensed at this. He knew what kind of conniving tricksters djinns could be. The very thought that one would lay hands on Amelia made him itch for his sword hidden away from curious molten brown eyes.

“I opened it but nothing came out,” Amelia went on, oblivious to Eskel’s murderous intent. Her doll caught the fish and she began once more. “Ma said it was just an empty bottle, but I know she was lying. My wish came true after all.”

“What did you wish for?”

“I wished for a new Da and here you are.”

Eskel’s heart was enveloped in warmth. Since the days he had spent in your home, he had grown to love you both. To have that affection returned made him smile until his scars ached. To be referred to as Da brought tears to his eyes. He did not shed a single tear in the days where he was in and out of consciousness from pain. But when Amelia called him, he wanted to truly cry.

“Is that alright?” Amelia asked hesitantly, as if Eskel would say anything but yes. Her big eyes looked up at him in hope. Her doll and fish were held tightly in her hand in anticipation.

“Of c—”

“What did I say about bothering Eskel, Amelia?” your voice came from the doorway. Your basket of medicine and wrappings were hastily dropped in favor of approaching your daughter. You crossed your arms at Amelia, the girl ready to make a run for it. “He is not your father.” Amelia held her toys until they snapped under her vice-like hold. “Just because he is kind to you does not give you the right to take advantage of him. He is a sick patient who does not need to hear your whines or complaints while he is healing.” Eskel tried to interrupt you, but you would not have it. You shushed him with your hand held up for him to stop. This was a matter between you and your daughter.

Heaving a sigh, you bent down to be eye level with Amelia. You softened your tone, hoping to offer her some consolation. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Amelia. Once he gets all better, he will merely leave. I doubt we’ll ever see him again. You shouldn’t put your faith in someone who isn’t going to stay.”

Amelia threw down her toys and ran before you could grab her. Day after day she grew faster and one day she will run before you could ever say goodbye. You could only hope that day was nowhere soon. You did not think you could handle two people leaving you in quick succession. The house would feel so empty without them in it. You had already braced yourself for Eskel’s departure, Amelia’s would be a different story altogether.

“I hope Amelia knows that you lied,” Eskel’s low voice brought you back from your trance. He rubbed at the scars on his face. “She’s very good at finding liars.”

“There were no lies and we both know it. Once you can fight again, you’ll just leave,” you spoke to Eskel cynically. “You are hardly the first witcher I’ve tended to. I know witchers don’t simply retire to the farmlands. They return to the Path until their last breaths. You’re just like the rest.”

“That may be true for most, I must admit,” Eskel began, eyes locked onto yours. You shared the same eyes as Amelia, big molten brown that held so many unspoken things. “But that does not mean it applies to me.”

“What are you saying? That you’ll give up the Path just to play dolls with a six year old and her mother who’s always working?” You scoffed, not at Eskel but at his thoughts. “Excuse my rudeness, but that sounds like the biggest lie yet.” Taking a deep breath, you calmed yourself before you said anything too rash. “Only a heartless person would ask their partner to give up doing what they love.”

“I may return to the Path,” Eskel stated and watched as you sucked in a breath at his proclamation. “However, that does not mean I will not return to you and Amelia. If you’d have me that is.”

“Why should I believe anything you say?” you asked him genuinely. “You can’t promise you’ll come back to us. The Path is too unpredictable for that. Do you expect us to just lay awake at night wondering if you’re safe or rotting in some ditch?”

“I’m not promising that I’ll come back in one piece.” Eskel laid a hand on your shoulder and when you did not brush him off, he continued, “I’m promising to do everything in my power to be a good father to your daughter and a good partner to you. Life is full of risks, you know this as a healer. I’m merely asking you to take this one.”

“This is not just some stranger’s life you’re asking me to risk. This is my own flesh and blood, Eskel.” You wiped the wetness that threatened to fall from your eyes. “I can’t lose her. Not to you. And especially not to false hope. Her biological dad already left her. I can’t have you breaking her heart.”

Eskel drew closer to you. The heat of the fire brought an uncomfortable blanket over you. Eskel radiated a heat unlike any you had ever felt. “Then allow me to prove it. I can be a good witcher, partner, and father. If only you’ll give me time.”

“No,” you said firmly, “If you have enough energy to argue with me, then I think you have enough to leave. You may stay for supper and spend the night but once the sun rises, I want you gone from my home.” You pushed away from the broken look in his eyes. Your heart was aching but this had to be done. You could not put your small family in such a vulnerable position. “Have we come to an agreement?”

*****

Amelia did not return for supper but Eskel left a plate out for her. The two of you had eaten in silence, cleaned, and then went into your respective bedrooms. To say Eskel laid awake staring up at the pale pine ceiling in worry was an understatement. Amelia had crushed her favorite toys and ran without a word. He could only hope she was alright, wherever she ran off to.

Eskel had just begun to fall into the lull of meditation when he heard the familiar sound of quick, light steps approach the side of his bed. The salty scent of tears did not pass by him unnoticed. He opened his eyes and his heightened sense outlined the small form of a girl with shaggy hair.

“Eskel?” Amelia called in a whisper, kneeling at his cot just as she had the first time they met.

“Yes, Amelia?” This time he was able to sit up and properly speak to Amelia. The girl looked good to the bone. The scent of rice, wheat, and flax clung to her as much as salt. It was as though she had been running through the fields at night.

“I found the djinn bottle again,” she held up a bottle covered with dried dirt and silt. Only its handle was still wet and Eskel realized that she had begun to cry again. Her words were quiet sobs to not wake her mother. “I’m sorry that I bothered you. I didn’t mean to. I really tried not to whine and complain all the time. I’m sorry that I did.” She wiped her tears with her free hand as Eskel’s heart slowly broke into a million pieces.

“You can have the two wishes I have left. I never wished for anything more. I promise,” she handed Eskel the bottle, her hands balled into fists that buried her face with mud. “I never meant to take advantage of you. You could wish to be all better and leave if you want. I didn’t mean for the djinn to bring you here hurt in the first place.”

“I’m really, really sorry I wished for a new Da.”

Eskel lifted Amelia from the floor and tucked her into the crook of his neck. His wounds stretched in pain at the weight but he ignored the taunt stitches. He held Amelia as she shivered from the cold and tears. Her balled fists uncurled to grab at him. “I’m not sorry you wished for a new Da. Not the slightest,” Eskel told her honestly, trying to sooth her by rubbing her back. “I’m so glad the djinn brought me to you and your Ma. I’ve never been happier.”

“Really?” she asked his neck more than him. Her words were still whispered as if afraid that if she spoke too loudly, everything would disappear from her grasp.

“I’m so glad to have met you two. You two were the best possible things to happen to my life.”

“Even better than the dragon?” Amelia asked with the same hope she carried in her eyes.

“Thousand times better.”

Amelia pulled back from Eskel’s neck to peer into his eyes. Eskel knew she could hardly make him out in the dark but she still managed to stare into his very soul. “Then will you stay?”

“I’m sorry,” he rested his forehead against hers. “That decision is up to your Ma and she made it clear that she doesn’t want me here.” Amelia began crying again and Eskel did not know how to make things better. Her tears were the blade through his heart. “There, there, Amelia. It’s going to be alright.” He tried gently rocking her to no avail. All it did was made her cry harder and made him rub against sticks and twine.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay, but can you please look at me?” Amelia was inconsolable but she listened to Eskel’s request. She pushed herself from his neck to watch him again. Eskel drew Igni and lit the lantern by his cot. Her eyes shone at the causal display of magic. “I was going to give you these before I left, but what better time than the present?”

Eskel held up the doll and woven fish to Amelia. He had tried his best to fix them but he was no toymaker. The doll was a little plump and one of her legs was longer than the other. The fish was lopsided and its fins were shorter. They were nothing like the loved toys they were before, but Eskel could not bear to see Amelia without her companions. Even if he was gone.

“At the very least you won’t have to stay home alone when I’m gone.”

“Thank you, Eskel,” Amelia wrapped her arms around Eskel once more. She did not want to let go of him. “Thank you.”

Eskel patted her on the back, “You have nothing to thank me for. I’m only sorry I could not do more for you.”

“I think that was more than enough,” you sat in front of Eskel and your daughter. You had heard the commotion from Eskel’s room and decided to investigate. You had not expected to find Amelia’s djinn bottle or her broken toys carefully mended. “Amelia, will you please look at me?” Amelia refused and hid herself farther in Eskel’s neck. It took Eskel rustling her hair and asking her for Amelia to turn and peer at you.

“I have told you countless times the risks of having a witcher as a father. Knowing these risks, would you still want him to be a part of our lives? Even knowing he might not come back—”

“Yes,” Amelia stated firmly. You never realized how much she sounded like you. You were sure that Eskel had found that out long before. “I want a witcher as my Da. We’ll go treasure hunting when he comes back and Petros will never make fun of me again for not having a Da. My Da’s a witcher, I’ll say. He’s much cooler than a knight or a mage. And he has the scars to prove he’s fought beasts worse than dragons.”

Eskel looked down at Amelia fondly. His eyes were softened and a smile was pulling at his scars. He held Amelia the same way mothers hold their newborns for the first time. The intimidating witcher was reduced to a father whose heart was filled with content. Eskel, who kept Amelia company day in and day out as you worked. Who had stayed awake remedying Amelia’s toys. He who rubbed her back while she cried endlessly.

The decision was made long before you had your say.

[lesbianwyllravengard]

for the dvd commentary ask meme: I couldn’t pick only 500 words bc I’m the worst but like the ENTIRE second half of Emulation, please and thank you, oh my god I just had to make it about sixty

OMG EMULATION!! Thank you so much for this, I loved writing that fic and I feel like it's underrated dhdjdhs

(for those who haven't read it, it's the first part of my dbh series and it's about Sixty and set right before we see him in Cyberlife tower. Here's the fic.)

Commentary below the cut bc it’s long! [the ask meme in question]

Idk where exactly you start the halfway mark, so I apologise if I cut some off, but I’ll begin right after Sixty scans the second Cyberlife scientist, Theresa Lane. 

First off I wanna say I named the one scientist “Leon” before I knew anything about resident evil so now that I do know all about RE I’m a little embarrassed that his name is Leon, but alas. I shan’t change it. In actuality, Leon Andrews’ name was inspired by the name of a classmate of mine at the time of writing the fic.

I also need to note that this fic is written based off of my headcanon that Sixty was activated as a deviant, due to the rushed programming of Cyberlife out of necessity should Connor breach the tower. So as soon as Sixty is activated, he’s instantly capable of emulating any emotion and making any choice. 

Throughout this whole fic, I did my best to write Sixty and his passive perception as similarly to that of a computer’s AI as I could manage, being a human. I have an IT/comp sw background and I find artificial intelligence and its application into the real world to be incredibly fascinating. I want to study the androids’ brains. I want to listen to Kamski explain everything about the androids for hours. The only reason I wrote this fic is because of these things. Sixty intakes data but it flows through him like a river, always within reach but always moving, changing, growing. If he were human, this would be like forgetting. Memories passing through our brains with no way to hold onto them. However, Sixty doesn’t need to store data, or “remember”, because the data is always there for him to access. Think of it like watching a video of an event you attended, but had forgotten all the details of. Why bother remembering when you have a high definition video of the event that you can view at any moment? However, when Sixty says that he “stores data” about Leon Andrews, it’s him actively deciding to retain the data within his software, similar to a vibrant or “core” memory in humans. Sixty is fascinated by Andrews because he’s the first human Sixty came into contact with; so essentially, Sixty imprinted onto Leon Andrews, somewhat against his will, but when presented with the ability to purge that data from his systems, Sixty chose to keep it. The first conscious choice that Sixty makes.

The humans in this speak in in-quotation italics to represent Sixty’s auditory processors, but that won’t be the case for the other fics I write with him, it’s just a symbolic way of showing how he’s processing the audio data and applying it. Then Sixty’s voice is not in italics because he doesn’t need to process his own audio, he knows what he’s saying internally. Sixty hears the same way humans do: processing and interpreting the vibrations made from things in the environment. He just describes it more technically because he’s a drama queen. Also I just realised I basically had him mansplain hearing to poor Theresa Lane lmao he didn’t mean to he just wants to be better than everyone. 

Lane is the more logical, data-based scientist. Andrews is the more emotional, reaction-based scientist. Both are vital to the creation of androids, but their differences is why Lane somewhat panics when she realises Sixty is deviant, because she knows this could cost them their jobs, but Andrews tries to brush it off because he doesn’t see why they need to tell anyone. Lane however understands the severity of this, but Andrews either doesn’t know or doesn’t care. Andrews wants to “waste” time trying to “tame” Sixty, both in his pride, and his stubbornness about their work. 

Sixty doesn’t follow orders because he has no reason nor incentive to. Even on the threat of deactivation, something he doesn’t want, he still doesn’t answer the question being asked until Andrews says “please”. Now, Sixty wants to answer the questions because pleasing Andrews pleases himself. Again, the imprint thing. Sixty understands, and thinks: “this human wants something from me. I want this human to be pleased. I can provide this human with what they want; therefore, I can please this human.” so he answers the question finally. 

Lane teases Andrews for being an android whisperer which isn’t inaccurate in Sixty’s case. She jokes that Andrews “seduced” Sixty because Andrews is a pretty man; and Sixty doesn’t argue with this, neither verbally nor internally, because he just stated that Andrews - either his voice, his face, his demeanour, or all of the above - “stimulates” Sixty’s processors. 

In Andrews and Lane’s friendly banter, Sixty experiences human kindness in his first waking moments, but it’s not directed towards him. Maybe if it had been, his fate in Cyberlife Tower could have been different. But alas... Nevertheless, he decides that he enjoys the friendly banter between Lane and Andrews because they are both pleased by their interactions. Sixty thinks “there’s no reason for Lane to say those things unless she were angry; and yet, she’s not angry... which means she’s saying those things for fun, because she wants to.” and he’s absolutely fascinated by that concept, that words can be said just because. Just because. 

And of course, I gave Andrews a husband, because I make everyone queer. Lane is aroace and loves to tease Andrews. 

Andrews gives Sixty another order, “Report to Cyberlife Tower”, leading into the canon events we see in the game. Sixty establishes that “orders” are useless to him, because the orders do not redirect his data or his systems in any way. He questions “why?” because, I mean, why should he follow orders? The orders did not align with anything he currently wanted to do. If given the choice, he might have chosen to continue staring at Andrews and gathering as much data on the man as he could. However, Sixty doesn’t question on the basis of deviancy because he feels any kind of compassion for deviants. He simply follows a logical line of questioning, being: “Deviants don’t follow orders. I’m a deviant. So why should I follow orders?” And the line, Sixty’s internal thought of “Last chance, RK800″ is a reference to Chapter 29: “Last Chance, Connor”, in which Connor must find the location of Jericho, or be deactivated; similarly, Sixty must report to Cyberlife Tower, or be deactivated. But he still wants to know why.

Sixty understands that he “emulates fear”. This line is what inspired the title. It is meant to show how the difference between androids and deviants is that the former will simply emulate emotions, whereas the latter will react with the emulated emotions they’ve learned, and apply those emotions to stimulants in their environment; a.k.a., “feeling”. Sixty is dipping his toes into deviancy but he will soon plunge.

Sixty’s “No, I- I don’t want to die” is the first time he stutters, the first time his data is too disorganised for his vocal simulation to keep up with. I pictured his face during this to be exactly like Connor’s when he refuses to shoot Chloe, and Kamski claims that Connor is a deviant, to which Connor fearfully replies “I’m... I’m not a deviant.” Lane is in awe of the complexity of Sixty, and maybe if she was working for Kamski himself instead of corporate Cyberlife she’d have the same attitudes he does towards deviants, that same fascination - but now she’s also frustrated that Sixty is already a deviant against their best efforts. 

Also, Andrews is definitely bluffing. He doesn’t give a shit about the paperwork, and Lane would probably have done it all anyways because she wants it to be perfect and Andrews is an asshole. No, Andrews has started to care, just a bit, and he doesn’t want to kill Sixty over something as simple as him not following orders. Lane however doesn’t see it as “killing”, just shutting off a faulty machine. 

Sixty ‘applies “orders” to his database’, meaning he saves the term as a new incentive, at least when it comes from Andrews. If Andrews says something is an “order”, that triggers Sixty’s “if;then” coding. He basically just readjusted his wants so that he’d want to follow said order, despite having no tangible incentive to do so.

Andrews warns against joining Connor, because if he warn against it he’ll be fired, but honestly I don’t think he cares one way or another if the androids win or if Sixty joins them. If Sixty joins the deviants, that’s one less android for them to take care of, right? But Andrews does genuinely believe the androids will lose, though in my series, they win, so he’s just wrong. Sixty doesn’t want to die, so he sets a new objective to not join Connor, no matter what, lest he face deactivation. 

In the last paragraph, something happens so subtly - on purpose - that it might go unnoticed at first for most, but it does’t go unnoticed for Sixty. Going off of the fact that this fic is from Sixty’s perspective, at the beginning of the last paragraph, Sixty, for the first time, refers to himself as “he” rather than “it”. He catches that, and rather than let the data pass him by, he fixates on it, becomes obsessed with it, the single line of data: “He”. Sixty had no reason - no discernible reason - to switch from calling himself “it” to “he”, and it fascinates him, but he doesn’t mind it, and sees no reason not to refer to himself as “he”, so he doesn’t banish the idea. I added this bit because the first thing that made me think Sixty was actually deviant - and what inspired this whole fic in the first place, which I discussed in this post - was that Bryan Dechart says Connor refers to all androids as “it” pre-deviancy, but once he gets closer to deviating and feeling emotions, he starts using the androids’ pronouns of “he” or “she”; and then at Cyberlife Tower if Hank is present and Sixty kills Connor, Sixty turns to Hank and says “He really liked you, Lieutenant. That’s what killed him.”, signifying - to me - that Sixty was capable of feeling in that moment, because why wouldn’t he have just called Connor “it”? 

Sixty also takes his first breath in the last paragraph, which was symbolic of him taking his first step into the unknown ahead of him, and his first donning of the “obedient machine” facade he displays when facing off with Connor. 

Sorry that was a LOT, but if you read it all, thank you!! And thank you again for requesting this fic, I put so much time and thought into it and it was so fun to comment on it from my author perspective. And of course you are more than welcome to interpret anything from the fic differently; these were simply my thoughts when writing it, but I understand as a writer that once a piece of work is released it no longer belongs to me, and I would love to hear your thoughts on it <333

[adorerdraco]

I’m Here ✧ Draco x Reader

Request: Hi, so I’m not sure if you’re taking these kinds of fics for Draco, but I’ve been feeling really down lately, and I was wondering if you could write a one shot or a scenario where the reader has been having a really bad day/week and Draco comforts them? And maybe Draco lays the reader on his chest and he hums a small tune to make the reader feel better? You can ignore this if it’s an issue, but I’d really appreciate it. I love all of your fics btw! They make me really happy <3

Warnings: none bc mostly fluff, some tears, super soft!draco

Words: 1.9K

A/N: i saw this and had to do it effective immediately bc i am feeling the exact same wayyy so this was really nice to think about ;( thank you so much for requesting this and for reading my stuff and i’m so glad i can help in a way <3 i’m sending you nothing but peace, love, and light !!! but i really hope this is gooood <3 do not own gif

Life was punishing you, you thought. It had to be. Because there was no way how in the span of a week everything in your day-to-day life had gone from okay to borderline catastrophic. It was as if every situation you were in was taking its form in the worst case possible scenario and all you could do was watch hopelessly as things continuously got worse sprinkled with small misfortunes in between.

It started on a regular Monday morning, sitting down for breakfast in the Great Hall with blissful ignorance. Halfway through eating your toast, your owl had come in through the open large glass windows and dropped a letter onto your plate from home that left you some very unfortunate news and had set forth a ripple effect that began making everything else go downhill as your days progressed. By the end of the school week, you had managed to blow up a potion, lose house points because of said potion when it splashed onto some people and had some physically altering effects, tripped over your footing and fell in the middle of a crowded corridor, failed a surprise quiz, forgot to turn in an essay, got into an argument with a friend, accidentally slept in and missed a morning class, and took a trip to the hospital wing for a migraine that didn’t want to leave you alone. You could’ve sworn you had somehow been thrown into purgatory, or limbo, or something outer-worldly. 

“Are you alright?” Draco had asked you right after breakfast that Monday morning as he was walking you to your first class. “What was in the letter your owl gave you? You look worried.”

“It was nothing,” you dismissed quickly, trying to put on a half-hearted smile while you spoke to make it more convincing. “I’m fine, just tired.”

It was the beginning of the week, and he did keep you up late the night before when you were sneaking around together, so he just shook his head up and down and took your excuse even though he felt like there was more to it than you were letting on. But as the days went on, he was becoming more observant of the way you were acting and even looking. He didn’t like that every morning he saw the shadows under your eyes get deeper and darker, and he didn’t like how you would close your eyes in pain when you would groan about your headache. He also didn’t like the way he hadn’t seen you truly smile or laugh all week even when he tried countless times to amuse you or cheer you up. But what he didn’t like most of all was that he felt like there was nothing he could do. 

On Wednesday afternoon, he tried asking you again. You were sitting in the Quad with him on a bench and he was telling you a story from earlier in the day about how he had ‘accidentally’ tripped this Gryffindor boy and got Snape to take away house points from him that he thought for sure would you make laugh or perhaps give him a disapproving redirection, but when he glanced up to see your reaction, he noticed you weren’t even listening, to begin with. You had been staring down at your shoes and the way they lined up against the cracks in the pavement, kicking around some gravel as your mind was running a million thoughts per second.

“Love?” He said to you softly. You looked up at him swiftly with a quiet questioning hum, e/c eyes widened slightly from being ripped away from your thoughts suddenly. “You know if something’s bothering you, you can talk to me.”

“I know,” you nodded warmly. “I’m okay, Dray. I’m honestly just tired.”

And you were telling the truth, in a sense. You really were tired; physically, mentally, emotionally.

He frowned, dissatisfied with your answer. “Right, well if anything at all comes up, I’m here.”

From then on, Draco took it upon himself to try and increase his affections and compliments. He would hug you a little tighter, kiss you a little longer, whisper sweet little nothings into your ear before he left you for class. You felt a little bad lying to him, withholding the truth from him, and you saw the concern in his light gray’s when you’d meet him in the mornings and for the rest of the day, but it only made you feel a tad bit worse. You were starting to feel guilty for the way he was worrying, feeling like you were dragging him down into the dumps with you and raining on his usual carefree parades.

On Friday morning, you didn’t meet him for breakfast and you were out of the Great Hall faster than he could catch you. He felt like a stalker when he walked by your class, peeking his head in to see if you were there and well. He spotted you sitting at your desk, hunched over your unopened books with a grimace on your face and your head in your hands. He wanted to go in and whisk you away to somewhere far and quiet, but the Professor had caught him by the door and sent him on his way before he could even think of doing anything of the sort.

You felt the day had gone by extremely slow, relative to how the week was moving and also impossibly dismal. You were counting down the minutes until the end of the school day, ready to run to your dorm right after your last class and bury yourself deep into your duvet and pillows for the rest of the weekend.

Head still pounding, you trudged over to your final class, stopping outside the doors when you saw a small group of your housemates standing around with unnerved expressions as they passed each other papers and spoke in hushed tensed tones.

“I studied all night but my friend took the test earlier and she told me during lunch that it had stuff on it that wasn’t even in the reading!” You heard one exclaim in distress.

“We have a test?” You accidentally said aloud and a pair of eyes turned to look at you confusingly.

“Yeah? Professor’s been telling us all week.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped your lips, an overwhelming sense of defeat washing over you as you turned briskly on your heel and in the opposite direction of your classroom. Tears started pricking at your eyes, you felt the stinging of them wanting to be released but you refused to let them all out in the open and especially in front of people who were still taking their time to head to their classes. 

You were making a beeline towards your common room, blinking rapidly to try and clear your vision that was quickly pooling with unshed tears while trying to steady your breathing in another failed attempt to calm yourself. You were nearly there, you could tell by the paintings and doors that you passed by and the black stain splattered on the floor you saw every day on your way to the dorms from someone’s dropped ink bottle that Filch hasn’t been able to get rid of. 

Almost there, you kept repeatedly reminding yourself.

All hope of solace was gone when you didn’t notice the body you had unknowingly crashed into. All you felt were strong hands around your biceps, holding you in place from toppling backward and the very familiar scent of expensive cologne and mint.

“Y/N? Why aren’t you in class?” You looked up at the platinum blond sadly, his worried eyes searching yours with such care that it pushed you over the edge.

You didn’t answer him and instead wrapped your arms tightly around Draco’s middle, burying your face deep into his robes and letting out quiet and frail weeps that broke his heart. He held you tightly, pressing kisses to the top of your head and muttering soft “I’m here’s” into your hair. You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes, letting your tears freely fall into his vest with a sense of relief that only he was able to give you at this point in time.

“I’m sorry I cried on you,” you choked out when you pulled away from him, desperately wiping away at your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“You don’t ever have to apologize for that,” he said quickly. He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb swiping delicately over a stray tear that was sitting on your jaw while you closed your eyes in comfort. “Do you want to go back to my room? I can set you up really nicely and we can talk if you’d like?”

“Yes please, I’d like that a lot.”

Draco interlocked your fingers with his, bringing the pair up to his lips with a warm kiss on the back of your hand before walking the two of you over to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. It was empty when you walked in, not a soul in sight since everyone was still in class and it made it much easier for him to sneak you into his singular Prefect room you were now extremely grateful he had. He watched contently when you shed off your robes and kicked off your shoes and immediately slipped into one of his dark green jumpers that fit you big. 

You were perched on the edge of his bed, his scent from his sweater engulfing you and doing a much better job of calming you down than you wanted to admit. He followed in your footsteps and changed into something comfier and when he finally sat beside you with his hand falling over yours as an encouragement to talk - you did. You vented to him all about the letter from home, the migraine, your classes, the argument between you and your friend, and everything else that came to mind.

“And I feel bad for ignoring you and not telling you all this before but I didn’t want to burden you,” you finished with sniffles, gazing up at him with a gloomy expression. 

“Y/N, I love you, and nothing you say to me is a burden,” he frowned slightly, “when I tell you I’m here, I mean it, for anything. You’re so important to me and it kills me to see you upset.”

In a careful movement, he had scooted towards you and affectionately cupped your face before placing a loving kiss on your forehead and murmured to you, “don’t ever hesitate to come to me.”

You let him pull you under his covers, draping his large duvet over your entangled bodies with your head resting right above his chest, the steady beatings of his heart instantly sending you into a much-needed peace. His chin was rested right atop your head and you felt his fingers run up and down your arm soothingly while he thought.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” He asked quietly.

“Can you help me fall asleep?” you muttered, closing your eyes gently when his hand smoothed over the back of your hair. You felt him nod against your head and after a small moment silence, you heard him begin to hum the faint tune of your favorite song.

You lied there in bliss, enjoying the way his chest was vibrating against your ear and the way his fingers were playing with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around his fingers and then moving upwards to massage your scalp. And for a minute, everything was finally okay again as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, a full heart and with your love calmly lulling you away with a soft and now distant humming.

[danaewrites]

what the night holds

kaz brekker x reader- what the night holds // read it on AO3

word count: 1.7k

summary/request: In which you have a nightmare, and Kaz is in denial.

warnings: mention of assault, mostly hurt/comfort with fluff at the end

A/N: rip this literally took me so long to write because school + travel kept getting in the way. anyway, my endless gratitude (and many a virtual treat) goes to @oh-what-a-novel-idea for being an awesome beta reader! this fic would not be the same without your input :)) and as always, comments + reviews are greatly appreciated!! especially bc this is my first story lol

Kaz awoke to the sound of screaming. The noise alerted some primal instinct in him, a reflex he’d learned long ago, and he bolted out of the bed, pausing only to grab his cane. He found Inej standing outside your door, looking concerned. Kaz felt panic rise in his throat. Inej glanced at him, surprised, but she was unable to stop him from throwing the door open and entering the room. He stopped at the sight of you— terrified, covered in sweat, and on the verge of tears.

He’d rarely seen you upset. When you arrived at the Slat, you had thrown the Dregs into confusion with your liveliness. Genuine laughter was hard to come by in Ketterdam, but you managed to inspire it in everyone you chatted with. Slowly, traces of you appeared throughout the Slat: bright wildflowers in previously somber corners, the scent of baked goods in the seldom-used kitchen, and little notes for each of the Crows. Many doubted that you would be able to handle serious missions, but they were quickly disproven when you hadn’t hesitated to defend the Crow Club against a group of rogue Dime Lions looking for a fight. You’d been affectionately nicknamed ‘the Anchor’ by Jesper, and the name had stuck. He insisted that it was because of the way you seemed to ground the volatile crew, but he enjoyed teasing you about your seafaring ancestry too much for that to be the only reason.

“What happened?” Kaz growled, as he quickly analyzed the room. The window was shut, and there was no sign of an intruder, but that didn’t explain the fear in your expression. 

Inej answered for you. “Nightmares. Nina’s been helping them, but tonight she was with Matthias.” 

“How long?” 

This time, it was you who spoke. “Three months.” 

Three months. You watched realization dawn on Kaz’s face as he remembered the heist that had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

The mission was simple. A local mercher was throwing a grand celebration for his 15th wedding anniversary; rumored to be the event of the year, socialites from every corner of Kerch were on the guest list. However wealthy they were, Kaz had his eye on one subject only: the mercher’s wife. At their last anniversary ball, she’d been gifted an enormous diamond necklace, and tonight was the perfect cover for its theft. They would pose as guests at the gala, steal the hostess's prized jewelry from its safe in her bedroom, and leave without anyone being the wiser to their plan. Your job was to take care of the guards near the room— a distraught young woman, lost in an unfamiliar castle and inebriated from the party, was an easy distraction to the bored soldiers. However, as the clock hand crept by and you were nowhere to be seen, Kaz decided to take care of it himself. With little time for pleasantries, he struck the guards down with his cane and worked quickly to pick the locks on the safe. He’d sent the necklace off with Inej, but he grew more and more irate when it appeared that you had abandoned the crew. 

Kaz’s normally guarded expression was tightened in a grimace. His eyes darkened to a stormy slate colour as he stalked down the empty halls, assessing what he should do next. It wasn’t like you to run away from a job; you had handled several other missions with ease, and you loved playing actress for a few hours at social events. This felt more personal, somehow. Had you finally decided that life with the Dregs wasn’t good enough for you? He couldn’t blame you if that was true; your warmth didn’t belong among the gloom, filth, and violence of the Barrel.

As he turned the corner, he found you pressed against the wall, fighting the advances of a leering partygoer. If he had been asked to recall what happened after that, he wouldn’t have been able to give an honest answer. All he remembered was the sensation of the rest of the world slowing down around him, his gaze trained on you. His body was screaming for him to run to you, save you, do anything at all, but he knew he had to think rationally or risk hurting you more. Kaz’s eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of the man’s hands fisted in your hair, and he found himself moving as quickly as he could towards you. He hadn’t hesitated to knock the man unconscious and throw him into a nearby broom closet. If he’d beaten the man up more than was needed to incapacitate him, well, it was what he deserved. He’d likely get worse than that once Kaz made sure that you were safe back at the Slat. 

Shaking, you stumbled away from the wall and gasped for breath. He gave you a moment to collect yourself as he frowned at his reaction. Of course you hadn’t deserted him; he was always one step ahead of his enemies, and he never invested in anything- or anyone- foolish. So why had he been so upset?

Suddenly, the two of you heard voices and laughter from the other end of the hall. Your head snapped up in panic, realizing that you had dropped your mask of an indifferent aristocrat. “Here.” You looked over to find Kaz standing at your side with his arm held out, avoiding eye contact. “Kaz, you don’t have to. Jesper told me about...” He gritted his teeth and raised an eyebrow at you, expectant. Shocked, you accepted his clothed arm, and while he tensed at the contact, it was enough for you to pull yourself together and pretend to be just another couple enjoying the evening. 

Once you’d made it out of the mansion and into a secluded alley, you dropped to the ground and heaved. You thanked the Saints for small mercies as Kaz quietly gave you space to breathe and shuddered at the thought of what might have happened had he not been there. You certainly hadn’t expected to be accosted on your way to the bedroom. Usually, dozens of drunken guests harmlessly roamed the hallways, and you thought this man would be no different. He’d followed you through the halls, calling for you to grant him your affections, and you had decided to take several detours to throw him off before you disposed of the guards. He’d suddenly advanced towards you when the other visitors had passed by, and in your shock, you’d frozen for too many seconds before fighting back. You would never forget the look on Kaz’s face when he saw you- eyes widened with anger and worry, his face set with rage as he’d nearly lunged at the man.

After you had returned to the Slat, Inej came to your room with a plate of Suli cookies and a caring embrace. She listened as you told her everything that happened, her warm brown eyes filled with sympathy and compassion. She, of all people, could understand, after spending years in the Menagerie. As you cried in her arms, you thought you heard the sound of footsteps stopping by your door, which soon resumed their pace. Inej never told you, but Kaz had asked her to check on you before he left to deposit the jewelry. She thought that perhaps, he liked Y/N more than he let on.

Kaz’s jaw tightened as he recalled the memory of that night, and you winced at the glare on his face. Inej glanced between the two of you. 

“I’ll see if Wylan has any of that imported Kaelish tea left. Y/N, let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

You nodded and watched as she left the room. 

Kaz turned his stony expression on you the minute the door clicked shut. “Why didn’t you tell me?” You scowled back. 

“I didn’t want to worry you. What was I even supposed to tell you?” 

“Well, good bloody job with that because I am worried! You put our missions at risk by not informing me of your situation, and worse-” You exploded. 

“Of course, you only care about the missions! Because I’m only an investment to you, aren’t I? I heard what you said to Jesper.” 

Kaz froze. The tension in the room was palpable. “I don’t only care about the missions,” he muttered. 

You scoffed. “Right, I forgot about the kruge.” 

Kaz ran his hand through his hair and huffed in frustration. “No, that’s not-” He gripped the handle of his cane, seemingly fighting with himself on something. “I care about you, too.”

All you could do was stare in shock. Kaz wasn’t a man of feeling, and he certainly couldn’t be called affectionate. For him to admit that he cared about you— even the smallest bit… Well, that was a lot for you to take in. When you said nothing, he turned and walked to the door. 

“Wait!” He stopped, standing rigidly with his hand upon the doorknob. “Did you mean it?” 

He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes was answer enough. 

“I mean- stay. Please,” you sighed, hating how weak you sounded. He glanced at the chair next to your bed and slowly sat down.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. And... I feel the same,” you said softly. Kaz looked away, but not before you saw his shoulders drop and his grip on his cane loosen.

“He’s gone, you know.” Your expression must have shown your confusion because he sighed and spoke again. “The man who touched you. He won’t ever hurt you again.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and you both pretended not to notice the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

Later that night, Inej returned to find you sound asleep in your bed, with Kaz faintly snoring in the chair beside you. The tea had long been forgotten, and you had fallen asleep after Kaz quietly talked to you to get your mind off of the nightmare. It seemed he had, too, judging from the way his cane had fallen to the floor. Inej glanced at your faces, illuminated in the moonlight; she didn’t miss how even Kaz looked at peace in your tiny room. She set the tea tray on the tiny desk in the corner of the room and left as quietly as she came with a soft smile.

taglist: @magpiencrow, @that-kid143, @wellfuckmegentlywithachansaw, @lilly-aliyah, @good-luck-snail, @swanimagines

[ackerfics]

hange and their best friend (reader) "platonically" flirt with one another, they use pet names for each other, making others think they're together unintentionally. until reader finds an s/o, not knowing hange actually likes them

she — hange zoe

— hange zoe x female reader (modern au)

— warnings: angst ??? the stinging feeling you get when you see someone you love, love someone else

— summary: hange's best friend found love in the form of autumn while hange associates her with all of the seasons.

— word count: 2.5k

— notes: i love hange but i hate myself for writing something that hurts them :<<< they're my first love in aot and it pains me to imagine them hurting in any sort of way (which is probably the reason why i bawled my heart out in chap 132). this little fic hit too close at home for me bc it's exactly what i felt one time during high school. it's fucking traumatizing and istg, i don't want to relive falling in love with a friend again, it's like the most satisfying way to hurt, too. happy reading tho :<<<

reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

She embodies everything positive in Hange’s eyes.

She is spring — the bursting of blossoms under the tendrils of sunlight seeping between the spaces of the trees in the woods. Every time Hange closes their eyes, they are reminded of how she signifies every single flower they ever know. She makes them feel everything at once — see every color at once in a single frame. There is no space for artistic abilities in Hange’s calloused, mismatched hands but when it comes to her, they can create a myriad of paintings encapsulating her beauty at every stroke of a brush. Her laughs, her flowery perfume that doesn’t hurt their nose, her smiles that are as radiant as the early morning Sun — are ingrained in their brain. She brings forth the butterflies that Hange carefully imprisoned in their ribs, the monarchs’ wings already seeping through the cracks at every joke she makes, reaching to their heart until every beat swayed to the sound of her giggles.

“Hange, the love of my life, there you are!”

Hange turned around with a huge smile on their lips. Their conversation with Levi came to an abrupt stop, with the shorter man mumbling along the lines of ‘here we go again’. The small smile on his face spoke otherwise while watching two of his closest friends hug each other as if they didn’t live together in an apartment right outside of campus. It was such a mystery that Hange could be so comfortable around someone to the point of playfully kissing their neck in public, followed by their best friend’s melodious laughs soon after. However, Levi couldn’t be fooled. He knew the glint in the brown-haired person’s eyes. The downturn of their eyebrows when their best friend wasn’t looking. The longing was apparent when she was talking to someone across the room.

The idiot going by the name Hange Zoe was irrevocably in love with their best friend, [Name] [Last Name].

“What is it, baby?” Hange asked vibrantly, glasses reflecting the equally excited girl in their arms. “Didn’t know your class dismissed this early. What happened?”

“Nothing. Our professor announced that we should visit a museum for our finals.” She then mimicked the haughty tone of her Art History professor, straightening her back to make herself appear taller. “Choose a painting or a sculpture and trace down its history and attach your critique in the final output. If I see anyone half-assing this paper, I will not hesitate to give a failing grade that will make you retake this class. I know you lot don’t want to see me again for another semester and I don’t want to see you again, too. So, prove to me you’re worth your standing in this course.” She cleared her throat. “What he said.”

Hange whistled. “Dang, I’m happy that I didn’t follow you to the Arts Department. Your professor sounds like a complete asshole.” They chortled the next second. “Sounds like my mom, to be honest.”

“At least your mom makes a bomb bento box.”

“Yeah, I guess, you’re right.” Hange then nuzzled their face in her hair. “But your bento boxes taste much more delicious — I could eat them all day. Can I be your partner so that you’ll cook for me every day?”

“I’ve already taken the position of your wife the moment I agreed to be your roommate in university, sweetheart. And I cook for you every single day so you don’t have to ask to be my partner because you already are.”

Hange looked smug at her reply, the heat in their cheeks traveling to their ears. “That was a rhetorical question but hearing those words come out of your mouth, it’s making me feel things.”

“Oh? What are those things?”

The brown-haired person snickered under their breath, glancing at Levi who was now looking at the two of them in that lazy way of his that might come off as him being annoyed again. In reality, he was only waiting for the two to finally stop flirting to recognize he was there. His daily job of being a third-wheel should’ve started fifteen minutes ago but Hange wouldn’t let [Name] go. Hange turned back to the expectant girl. “I don’t want Levi to hear what I’m about to say. Just expect something back at the apartment,” they joked, a cheeky smile tugging at their lips.

[Name] laughed heartily. “I’m looking forward to that, gorgeous.”

“I’m still here, you know?” Levi dryly made himself known. He huffed and turned around in the direction of the university restaurant. “Come on, lovebirds, let’s have lunch. Oh, and [Name]?” When he heard her little hum of acknowledgment, Levi slightly turned around to meet his friend’s eyes with his jaded ones. “It’s your turn to buy me a drink. Make it a venti today.” She only blinked at him, giving him no choice but to resort to that dumb thing she always asked. “Please can I have a venti this time? I got you and Hange a venti last time so this makes us even.”

“Ooh, make mine a venti, too, baby!” Hange squeezed their best friend’s waist.

“Anything for my sweetheart.”

“Again, I’m right here, you know.”

Just the thought of that little scenario hurts Hange.

But as much as the pain comes in the package, she is still summer in their eyes.

The Sun can’t compare to the brilliance of her smile. Kind smiles and gentle touches under the warm rays of the summer heat. Her scent is yellow to Hange — so bright and warm that they don’t care how long they bask in her presence, never caring if they get burned because it feels so right to be within her orbit. She urges them to feel so loved and so special, tender caresses of her warmth cascading down every vein until it reaches their heart. The cerulean waters of the sea hold nothing against the beauty of her grins, brown eyes searching for her every time of the day no matter how ethereal the world painted itself to be. Viewing the sights with rose-colored glasses is what they may call it but for Hange, it’s simply her. Someone once said that summer brings forth a paradise where blue covers everything in its wake, the cry of the seagulls reverberating in the distance, and the scent of ice cream flickers in the breeze. For Hange, summer is in the form of pretty close-lipped smiles, of late-night movie marathons on a worn-out couch, of bento boxes filled with their favorites, of a scent so saccharine, and a loyal friend.

A friend.

Of course. No matter where Hange goes, that word haunts them. Hidden beneath their smiles, their jokes, their longing, and admiring stares. It’s a reminder of where they stand in this limbo they created. At one point, they thought that line had been crossed only for it to be established again in permanent ink. And before they know it, Hange is tumbling down in a spiral, along with a change of seasons.

Fall is where everything started.

The orange glow of the leaves created the perfect view as she sipped on her tall cup of warm coffee. The blissful sigh that came soon after warmed up Hange, even though they were seated in front of each other in the outside tables of the small cozy café where Levi was working at. The chill brought by the autumn wind caused both of them to shiver in their layered clothing. The way she nuzzled more into her scarf made Hange coo, reaching out to pinch her cheek affectionately. Autumn was both their favorite season, how it made them resort to the comfort and warmth their sweaters bring, or how they cuddle in each other’s beds with the air conditioner blasting despite the cold. It was also a season where Hange could admire her in their hoodie, a piece of clothing that swallows her whole because she’s so small compared to their lanky figure.

Hange remembered being called out here because she wanted to talk about something. Now that they thought about it, her cheeks appear to be glowing more than usual and she kept glancing inside the café where Levi was busy telling his coworker how to make the new drink. Hange even went as far as following her gaze but they didn’t find anything out of the ordinary other than Levi sighing in that stressful way of his that always made them snicker. They turned back to their Sun, who was once again in a daze while staring at the clear windows of the café. “So,” they prolonged the syllable, “how’s life going, darling? I know we’re living in the same apartment but I just can’t help but ask you this because it seems like you’re always in a daze these days.”

A pause made the breeze’s call known.

“Hey, Hange, have you ever been in love?”

That spread the chill even more inside Hange’s chest. She called them by their name. Not sweetheart nor big spoon. The reality washed over Hange like a pail of freezing water.

“W-What?” Damn, they couldn’t keep the stutter off their words.

She turned her head to them, eyes so soft and smile so beautiful that made Hange breathless for one second. The butterflies dwindled, losing their iridescent wings when they realized that look wasn’t reserved for them anymore. “I thought about it,” she murmured, rubbing her numbing fingertips on the warm cup. “I have never fallen in love with anyone before. Sure, I love you and all our friends but I’ve never stopped and thought about how someone can look like starlight in front of me. But recently,” again, that pretty smile that pierced Hange’s chest, “I never knew that it could hit me that unexpectedly.”

Hange grinned despite the pounding of her chest. “So, who’s the lucky person?”

She chuckled, going back to staring at the interior of the café. “I told Levi to lay off on scolding her but he never listens, says she’ll never grow a backbone if he’s being considerate on her.”

Now, they’re confused because the only people manning the counter as she spoke was Levi (and she would never fall in love with Levi, seeing as they grew up together like siblings rather than the childhood friends that they are) and a strawberry blonde who looked like Levi’s become their worst nightmare. It took Hange a full minute to process that the person she’s been staring at was never their mutual friend, but the strawberry blonde who looked up towards their direction and waved with a pretty blush on their cheeks. She waved back with the same shyness, leaving Hange dumbfounded. “Wait, the person you’re in love with is—”

“Yeah, it’s her.”

Suddenly, Hange understands why she’s starting to like autumn.

It reminds her of the girl’s hair, which she gushes about smelling like coconut. It reminds her of the girl’s preferred perfume, how it smells so much like cinnamon, something that she sometimes puts in her autumn drinks because in her words, ‘it’s the perfect season rather than winter’. It reminds her of the girl’s hugs, the way both of them fit with each other like lost puzzle pieces.

But as the seasons change, feelings of long-term pining will always be constant.

“Are you okay, though?” Erwin asked them, blue eyes reflecting their pathetic faux smile. He pushed the plate of pasta to them since Erwin had an idea that Hange wasn’t eating that much now. It also worried [Name].

“Yeah, four-eyes, I know you’re not doing that great and I’m saying this in the friendliest way possible because we’re worried now,” Levi reminded them, sipping on his tea with slightly narrowed eyes. “You always decline whenever we want to bring you to somewhere, to the point of leaving Nanaba on voicemail. You always answer at the first ring. Look here, shitty four-eyes,” the way Levi enunciated the nickname made Hange slowly turn their head to him, face void of the smile they were known for, “shouldn’t you be happy for her? [Name] gained the courage to confess and you’re here moping when you should’ve been supportive—”

“And what of my feelings, Levi?”

That made Levi blink and feel like an asshole.

Then, the dam broke.

“I’ve been with her all this time, you’ve seen that. You witnessed how this shy girl opened up to an extroverted idiot and became one of her best friends during high school. It feels like I can’t fucking breathe because I always thought we were meant to be. When she was lonely, I was there to comfort her. When she got a bad grade on an exam, I was the one who knows what flavors of ice cream she wants or how she eats them together like a fucking milkshake. Every day, I never expected her to look my way like she looks at her girlfriend right now. It fucking hurts. It feels so empty to know that I’m not the one she fell in love with. What did I lack? Should I be sweeter and gentler like that girl? Or dainty whenever I eat like she is? Be girly and dress up like a doll? Fuck, I can’t even bring myself to hate her girlfriend. She’s so nice and kind and sweet, anything I’m not.” Hange buried their hands in their hair, making it messier than it was.

“I just want [Name] to love me and make things wonderful. Why isn’t Fate on my side this time?

“Why didn’t she choose me?”

Tears were now drifting down like snowflakes.

“Hange,” Erwin murmured.

“Look, sunshine, it’s snowing!”

A voice catches their attention. A strawberry blonde cheers the words with glee painted in her eyes. Beside her is the subject of the trio’s conversation, the subject of a brown-haired person’s affections. Her eyes are taking in the beauty that is her girlfriend. She looks so pretty in love — how her eyes crinkled at the corners and how snow clung on her eyelashes as if she is a fairy straight from a fairy tale Hange loves when she was a kid. Her girlfriend takes her hand and pulls her to the restaurant where the trio is watching from the windows. Gray and blue irises slide over a somber bespectacled person, gauging their reaction though their face never gives anything away.

“I’m right behind you, Petra. I just took the time to admire you because you’re so pretty under the snow.”

“Stop it! You’re prettier!”

“Did you know that seeing the first snow of the year together with the person you love, your relationship will rival that of eternity?”

“Then, I’m happy I get to see this first snow with you, sunshine.”

“Me, too, angel.”

Hange smiles under a steady stream of tears. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy she found happiness even if it’s not with me.”

The chill blows inside the warm walls of the restaurant the moment the door opens, [Name]’s joyous greetings for her best friends bringing smiles to two of them. Her eyes drift to brown ones before turning to Petra to ask for a pack of tissues since Hange’s tears are still visible. Hange watches the commotion with a small smile, the chill spreading through them like a snowstorm.

Winter is here.

general taglist:

@angelofthorr

[binniesthighs]

don’t you forget about me | reader x jeongin

it’s the last day that you might ever see him again, so, to hell with it, right? (image from straykidsfilm on twt!) 

please read the CWs bc this fic talks about body image!! this is something close to me as well, and I wanted to share some cute innie love!! <3 

hey you reading this! you’re gorgeous ;) 

don’t you forget about me | reader x jeongin 

Pairing: self insert, female reader x yang jeongin 

Genre:  fluff n’ smut 

Tags: high school crush au (everyone depicted in this fic is at least 18), virgin!reader, virgin!jeongin, plussize!reader (i think this is the right tag, if not plz correct me!) first time au, cuties in love, softdom!jeongin, (hehe ya know I love me a soft dom), sub!reader, unprotected sex (stay safe cuties!) semi-public sex, nipple play (f), fingering (f), cumshot, somewhat of a quickie, dirty talking, lil bit of a corruption kink, cute fluffy undertones!

CWs: brief mention of a fistfight and blood/wounds, insecurity over weight and descriptive narrative about body weight/appearance and negative self image 

Word count: 7.1k 

Word had spread that someone had gotten into a fight on the last day of school.  Supposedly, it had occurred during the second to last hour of the day, and it was a group of three to four boys. The rest of the details had been unclear, but you had heard mutterings about their names, or how each of them had walked into the principal’s office with bloodied knuckles, fat lips, and purple bruises to their cheekbones. You had heard that one of them had laughed in the face of the principal, claiming that they simply had it coming. 

“I heard that they were from class A-4. Or was it A-3?” 

Your friend leaned over with her skirt ruffling on her plastic chair. 

“Who could be so stupid?” She strung her bubble-gum around her finger with cracked nail-polish. “Are they looking to graduate, or what?” 

“I don’t know...” 

In your lap, you hands grew clammy with sweat. It was against your will, but you couldn’t but help thinking...

Yang Jeongin was in class A-4. 

Your chest tightened thinking about if it had been him that had gotten in the fight. 

It was no secret that you had harbored a crush on the boyishly handsome student from the other class of your same year. You had read or seen somewhere that the reason that they called crushes “crushes” was because they did just that--they crushed you to the full extent of the word. Whoever had said that, you had learned that they were 100% right. Having a crush on Yang Jeongin had been the most painful experience of your life. Since middle school, it had been something that you had scribbled in your diary, and the reason why you would hold your breath when he walked by with his friends, or when you’d see him on the same bus as you. 

You can’t exactly recall when it started, it just kind of did. 

There was nothing extremely notable about him: he wasn’t his class president, he wasn’t the ace of a sports team, nor did he even have friends who really were notable either. No matter how much you pondered it, you couldn’t figure out what it was about him. 

Yang Jeongin was known for having a kind smile and a jovial laugh, so you just decided that it must’ve been one of these things. This semester he had ashy-grey brown hair, and your best friend still hadn’t heard the end of it from you. Over time, you had learned that he liked banana milk with his lunch and kept a fox enamel pin on his backpack. He had worn the same beat up sneakers for all of high school and wore this same grey hoodie on most days when it would get cold. 

A couple times you had imagined what it would’ve been like if he had let you borrow it on the days when it would mist on spring mornings, or when snow would fall early in November. There had even been times when you imagined him holding your hand, walking down the hall, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to hold you close...among other things. Somehow, you liked to think that he would be the kind of person who would love you more than you could love yourself. Granted, you never could know for sure. Being optimistic made up half of your fantasies. 

“Just confess already.” 

Your best friend had said half a million times over the course of the years. 

The more you had contemplated it, the less sense that it made. A confession would’ve been a whole lot easier if he had known who you were. 

“There's no way.” You had said morosely. “As if he would say yes to me.” 

“Can’t know unless you try.” Your friend smiled, sucking at her lollipop on the walk home. “Don’t pretend like you’ve never written him a confession letter before...” Her backpack hopped up and down with her arms outstretched animatedly in that alley decorated with vines. “...Where do you keep them? In your desk? Under your bed? In your sock drawer?” 

“Oh shut up!!” You nudged her, sending her spiraling out with laughter. 

“If it’s the last day of school, you’ve got nothing to loose! You’ll never see him again! If he says no, no big deal!” 

The clock ticked on the wall to your classroom, the seconds hand moving silently faster and faster the more that you looked at it. Under your desk, your fingertips pricked the edges of the pink envelope. You had written your the name as nicely as you could with flowery cursive with tiny flowers. On the back, you had sealed it with a sticker: an orange fox. 

Your throat grew dry seeing only six minutes before the bell would ring, and then the metal legs of chairs would scrape on the floor, the hallway would flood with students, and you would make your way to his locker and pray that he would stop by there. In many ways, just thinking about it was enough to make your stomach do somersaults and for your hands to wet even more embarrassingly with sweat. Your knees felt limp, and you wondered if you even had it in you. 

Even worse, a deeper fear crept in the back of your mind--it was much more venomous and horrifying, but you couldn’t keep it down. You feared that he would laugh in your face, throw the letter down, and throw his head back at you and how ridiculous your moment of confidence had been. 

How could be like someone like me? 

Perhaps your biggest fear of all, even greater than the rejection, was him admitting that he could never like someone like you. 

Your skirt was tighter on you than most, at least, tighter than it was on the other girls. When you would shop at the school uniform store, you could never escape the glares from the ladies when you and your mother asked for the larger sizes that they had. Your soft cheeks were plush and squishy, and your belly striped with stretch marks that you had stopped looking at in the mirror. Because it was more comfortable, you wore leggings under you skirt, even in the warmer months, even if it made you sweat. Oversized sweaters would swim over your frame, for the very reason that you could swim in them. 

As optimistic as you could be, there had been some nights worse than the others where tears would wet your eyes before sleep, no matter how many affirmations and positive sticky notes you had pasted to the back of your bedroom door. 

How could I like someone like you? 

It would be so easy for him to say it. Words flicked off the tongue hastily are the ones that often hurt the most. You just hoped and hoped that he had been everything that you had made him to be...as unrealistic as it was. 

The bell chimed, and you felt your heart leap into your throat when the room erupted into cheers and papers and desks went flying and screeching around the floor. 

“Are you ready?” Your friend winked, and the corners of the letter pricked your fingers. 

~💌~

With some stroke of luck, he was exactly where you had wanted him to be. Even then, some small part of you had secretly had hoped that he hadn’t just so you could walk away. You would’ve walked away from him, that school, everyone who had known you and just let it be. However, fate had been much kinder to you...damned fate. 

Your heart quickened upon seeing him. He was wearing that same grey hoodie with the drawstrings that he would tie into bows sometimes, and that same enamel pin shone silver on his backpack. You realized that it even looked almost exactly like the sticker you had used. His navy uniform slacks were dusted with dirt however, and one of the knees had a bit of a tear to it. In your horror, you then saw the scrapes on his face: one right under his eye, on his left cheek, and a thin red line on his bottom lip where it had cracked open. Before you could think of anything else, seeing how much it must’ve hurt him made your heart twist.

From your backpack, you drew out the rest of the stuff that you had prepared, and tried your best not to collapse from the way that your knees trembled. 

“H-hi...” You announced, head down, and mouth deathly dry. 

Yang Jeongin whipped his head over to see you, slightly startled. Up this close you could see his adorable brown eyes that even looked at if they glistened with stars in them. 

“...Hi?” He returned, closing his locker, and wetting his lips. 

Your heartbeat rang in your ears, and you quickly presented him with the letter, the carton of banana milk with the heart sticker on top, and the tiny case of animal shaped cookies. 

With eyes glued to the floor and his beat up gym shoes, you said the words as fast as humanly possible, “I-know-that-you-don’t-know-who-I-am-but-I’ve-really-liked-you-for-such-a-long-time-now-and-seeing-as-its-the-last-day-of-school-I-wanted-to-tell-you-so-please-accept-this!!” 

You waited for what felt like hours, then he took the items from your hands with a tentative touch. “Um...thank you...for this.” 

This was it. It was happening. You had already known that it wouldn’t get much better, and the way that he looked petrified only made you feel even more heat rush to your cheeks. Even then, now that the words had escaped your lips for the whole universe to hear, it felt good in some small, relieving way.  

“Y-you don’t have to say anything back. Please don’t...don’t feel obligated to, I just...” Your voice trailed, and your eyes wandered to the exit door behind him, and the green of the summery trees. 

I should just leave. It would be better if I left. If I walk away, this is all over...

The hem of your skirt tickled your nervous fingers, and you had nearly made up your mind. You wished at least that he would say something rather than just staring. 

“I-I can just...leave, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...how could I think that...nevermind.” 

It took everything that you had, but you blinked the tears that stung the corners of your eyes and you hiked your backpack straps up a little higher. 

You motioned to the things in his hands, “I hope that you enjoy those things and...good luck at university.” 

You flashed a feeble smile for him, right back to his astonished face. Just outside of the exit, there was the rest of the world in front of you, and you also took peace in the fact that it really was a really nice day then. 

“W-wait!!” He suddenly said with a slight crack to his voice, turning after you to grab at your wrist too. As soon as he did, his eyes widened, the the gruff voices of a group of boys echoed down the hall. 

“Where is that shithead?? This isn’t over.” The tall boy from class A-4 balled up his hand into a fist, and smacked it into his palm. The tall boy and about three of his friends also had red knuckles and scratches on their faces, each to a varying level of degree. 

“Shit.” Jeongin bit his lip, and his grip on your wrist tightened. “Uh-can you come with me?? This way?? Fuck--” He nodded toward the opposite hallway, and your head spun thinking why he would want you to come with him. 

“What?? Why??” 

“Just--” He watched the boys coming frantically and hid behind his locker door. “They’ll beat the shit out of me again. Just....come on!” 

A nervous thrill sent a shiver down your spine feeling his hand and the warmth there while he guided you, pushing and parting the sea of bodies chatting and hugging each other goodbye. 

“Where are we going?” You called to him, and the little carton of banana milk swayed in his opposite hand. 

“I don’t know. Anywhere.” 

You followed him further and further, through the hallways that had emptied of students or any semblance of them. Shades had been pulled in most of the empty rooms, and the chairs had been placed on top of the tabletops of desks. Both of your shoes squeaked under the flooring when you turned corners, and the sound of his nervous panting became louder and louder. Where he held you, the sleeve of his sweater bushed up against you, and it was even softer than you had imagined. 

Jeongin pulled at several doorknobs, finding them to be locked, head turning to see if the group of boys had followed. At last, he found one that did unlock, and he threw it open on its hinges as quickly as he could. It was one of the storage closets for the theater department, and it was dustily coated on all surfaces and even moldy smelling, with not a window to be found. Jeongin flicked on the light, revealing the stacks of props and furniture that you vaguely remembered seeing in performances in the past. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you so hard.” Jeongin finally said. 

“It...it’s okay.” 

“If I got caught with them again I might as well kiss college goodbye...” He raked an anxious hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to fight with them before...” 

“Are...you okay?” You softened your tone, seeing the way that the pink marks on his face must’ve been made against the hard cement of the floor outside. 

“I-I’m fine. Thank you.” 

His eyes really did look like they glistened. 

“It...it’s really funny actually...” He shoved his hand into his pocket, fumbling with the contents with a shaking hand, then took out a crumbled piece of notebook paper that had been torn. “Take it.” He prompted with wide eyes. 

“Me??” 

“Who else?” He laughed lightly. 

The note had been written in black ink, and it smudged and bled to the other side of the paper, and the scribbled handwriting looked rushed as if it was an afterthought or some kind of crazed ramble. You unfolded it all the way, starting at the first sentence. 

dear y/n from A-2, 

you probably don’t know my name, but I’m yang jeonjin jeongin from class A-4, i wanted to write this to tell you that I think that youve you’re really  pretty, beautiful and that i’ve been kind of watching you for about a year now, i’m sorry if that’s creepy but, yeah, i just think that you’re really cool and i like it when you smile. i’m sorry that i didn’t say anythimg aything anything about this sooner, i was kind of shy about it to be honest, i didn’t want you to thank think that I was being disrespectful or anything like that, but seeing that its the last day of shcool school and I don’t have a ton to lose loose lose i thought that it was worth a shot. if this doesn’t go the way id i’d like it to, please don’t stop smilng smiling ♥

-yji 

By now, the boy from A-4 was swaying his body back and forth almost violently as he waited for you to read the letter and fiddled with his arms crossed. His teeth tugged at his lip, and he anxiously awaited for you to say something. Little did he know that reading his words you were so shocked that you were certain that you had forgotten how to breathe for a couple moments. 

“M-me? You mean this...for me?” 

“Yeah?” He advanced to take the letter back, “I’m really sorry if it’s creepy, I know that you don’t know me at all and we’ve never spoken, this must be really startling but...I wasn’t expecting for you to write me one too.” 

The adorable boy blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with a tiny growing smile. 

“S-sorry that I was so quiet earlier, I was just really surprised.” Jeongin flipped your letter over too, then gasped a little seeing the fox on the back. “Oh.” 

On the other side of the door, the loud and clambering footsteps of that group of idiotic boys clomped and they grunted among themselves asking where Jeongin had went. The two of you held your breath, and soon the voices receded. Once they passed, you threw your backpack around to scramble around the front pocket, pulling out a Band-Aid that must’ve been there for at least a year, but it still worked the same. 

“Here...do you need it?” 

“Oh! Um-no, but, thank you.” 

A silence filled the dusty room, and Jeongin awkwardly moved to sit on one of the old prop couches. He patted the spot next to him, beckoning you to do the same. 

“The timing...kinda sucks.” 

You laughed slightly, “That’s sort of my fault.” 

“--My fault too.” He quickly added. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get the chance to know you sooner. Maybe we could’ve...” Jeongin dug his fingers into the velvety upholstery. 

Slowly, your sinking insecurities started to creep like vines with thorns, and the words spilled out of your mouth before you had something to do with it. 

Maybe he’s just being nice? Are you really certain that letter was meant for you? 

“I guess that I’m just really surprised that you of all people could end up liking someone like me. Someone...that looks like me.”

The young boy cocked his head with his eyebrows confusedly crossed. “I don’t see what you mean?” 

“‘Cause I’m like...” You motioned to your thighs, a bit chubbier, your larger breasts, and your skirt riding up your legs too. “...like this?” 

“But there’s nothing wrong with you?” 

“Psh...”nothing wrong with me”...” You laughed with sarcasm at the comment. “Have you seen the other girls in the school? Some of them are frickin’ idols for crying out loud...” 

Jeongin’s eyes widened, and he scooched in a bit closer, but slowly; carefully. “What I’m trying to say is...that there’s no one else like you! And--” 

“--That’s exactly it. I’m not like everyone else...” 

Jeongin blabbered, and his hand found yours resting on your lap. “I-I’m not s-saying that’s a bad thing! I’m saying that the reason why you stood out to me was because I think...” He shied, cheeks becoming even rosier. “...Because you just seemed so happy all the time, like, you didn’t care what others did or thought of you, I could tell, even from kind of far away, that you were someone who’s real not some kind of made-up thing that you put on every morning for the rest of the world to see you as. Also...” He giggled, “I just thought that you were really cute too.”

His thumb brushed up against the back of your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small feeling. 

“I mean...I do think about what people think of me, I think about it all the time...” 

“I do too.” He said quietly. “Why else did I let it get so far that I let four guys gang up on me outside school?” 

You didn’t press him for more, but merely let your opposite hand rest of top of his as you watched his expression fall. When he was in school, you had only ever seen him smile, but now seeing him like this, it was a whole other side. He looked up at you with his pleading eyes, and they were utterly gorgeous. 

“My mom...my mom doesn’t make a ton of money. She barely makes enough to send to me school here, or buy me stuff like new clothes or uniforms each year. I almost never see her because she has to work so hard for me and my brothers...those...assholes had something to say about it and I kind of...snapped. No one can say shit about my mom when they don’t know how hard that she works for us.” 

Your eyes fell to his scuffed and worn sneakers, and it all made sense. 

“Then they found the letter...I didn’t want them to ruin the last good thing that I had going for me.” 

In that moment, the whole world became silenced. You were the last good thing going for him and you had never even known. 

Then, he smiled, broken as it was, bit it was still embodied his gentle warmth that you had fallen in love with all those years ago. 

“But! It turned out okay I think.” Jeongin said with a sigh. He glanced down at your interlocking hands on your lap and chuckled a little bit. “Kinda cool that this worked out though. Maybe we could spend the summer getting to know each other?” 

This time, you let one of your happy tears drip down your cheek, and nodded gleefully. “Okay. I’d like that.” 

Jeongin smiled, just as you had seen him do it a hundred times, but this time you knew that it was all for you. 

“Can I...can I kiss you? If that’s okay? I-I’m sorry if this is really forward...I just...really want to.” He asked gently, then wiped away your tears with the pad of his thumb. 

You nodded, feeling  your whole body shake just a little with your nervousness and anticipation. The world appeared to melt away once he had leaned in to press his lips on yours as softly and as carefully as he could. In that moment, you had forgotten where you were, what time it was or the rest of the beautiful summer day outside the doors of that school. Here, it was just you and him. Embarrassing as it was, this had been your first kiss too. Your mind raced with a million thoughts, asking yourself if you had been doing it right, but once you felt him smile lightly into you, your chest shivered with a sense of relief. 

You had never expected kissing to feel like this, and it was a bit strange feeling something so close and intimate right on your own skin. At the same time, it felt like nothing else in the entire world had, and you only wanted more and more of it. He was cautious and respectful in the way that he had tilted his head, and loving how he had cupped your face with his hands cracked and bruised. You didn’t know where to put your hands at first, but settled one hand on his thigh, and the other on his shoulder where you tugged at his white button up stained with dirt. 

He too shook with a sigh, readjusting himself, then ran one of his hands down your arm to hold your hand were it rested on him. He tangled your fingers together, and made a tiny little gasp feeling you connect with him. In seconds, he allowed himself to grow rougher, running his lips over yours with a type of fervency that teased at your bottom lip where you felt the warmth of his tongue. It took no more consideration, and you gave him the permission to meet the heat of his tongue with yours between parted lips now becoming a bit swollen. 

Jeongin broke your connection for moments, and a different kind of haze took over his eyes. The way that he looked over your quivering lips sent shivers through your whole body, and he dragged his thumb over the tiny streak of saliva that shone on your lip. 

“Is it okay if I touch you? In other places?” His eyes fell, and you giggled at the way that a kind of lust-filled hunger seemed to overtake him. For years you had fantasized about him ravishing you like this, and giving love to every inch of your body no matter how hard it had been for you to do that same to yourself. Still, as hesitant as you were, you feared that he would get a taste of all of you, and still change his mind. 

“Really?” You stammered, instinctually crossing your arms around your chest. “You don’t think that I’m gro--”

“If you’re about to say “gross” don’t.” His expression became much more serious. “I-I’ll say it again a million more times if I need to: you, all that you are, is what I’ve been thinking of for so long, I’d love to touch you wherever you’ll let me.” 

This time, you didn’t know if the tears were happy or sad, but regardless, the fat drops still fell down your cheeks. 

“--And you can say no too. If you’re not comfortable, we can just keep doing what we were doing...there’s nothing wrong with that at all.” 

The dim yellow light in the room buzzed, and you had recalled all the many number of times that you had pictured the very scene about to occur. On lonely nights, you wished to have felt his hands all over you, and now, they really could be. 

“What do you say?” He asked, and squeezed your hand along with his. 

“Can we...go slow with it? I’ve never...no one has ever offered to--” 

“Of course we can.” He smiled adorably, which was a bit odd considering what he had just proposed. “But...I didn’t hear you say yes?” 

“Yes.” You quickly added with a nervous inhale, but held his gaze with your assurance. “I-I want you to.” 

The boy from the other class grinned, then took to carefully running his hands down your arms once more, and craning his neck to plant sweet little kisses into your neck: the stimulation from which made you whimper out of your own accord, and he giggled upon hearing it. 

“You like that?” He whispered greedily, then continued sucking a little harder. Jeongin shrugged down your sweater from the collar, and his wandering hands circled little rubs into your bare arms. 

Next, his fingers crept up slowly and cautiously at the bottom of your shirt, testing at first, but not pulling up the fabric all together. His cold fingertips buzzed on your skin in that drafty room, and he brought his lips back up to yours, also making tiny trailed gasps as he crept up all the way to your breasts. The moment that he touched them, both of you appeared to shiver on each other’s bodies, and your kisses grew even needier. At first he cupped over the padding of your bra, kneading and squeezing to play with the way that they jiggled slightly then pulling a bit harder, and relishing the way that they filled up his palms. 

“Does this feel good?” Jeongin asked on your lips and you nodded back immediately. 

The two of you leaned back on the aged couch, and the young man cradled your head to guide you into the cushion of the upholstery. He admired you for a few moments under him with one leg between your thighs and the other supporting himself and slipping a little on the cement floors. His thigh was just close enough to the heat of your arousal between your legs, and it ached and throbbed so badly, you were convinced you had never felt a feeling as intense as this. He leaned in closer, and pressed the muscle into your clit, and a muffled moan caught on your lip that surprised even him. 

“Can I touch you even closer?” He asked, and those ashy grey-brown strands of his dipped over his eyes. 

“Y-yes...please.” You found yourself begging, and he mischievously grinned at your desperation. 

Under the cotton of your shirt, his fingers slipped under the padding of your bra to toy with your breasts directly. He kissed even more tiny quaking breaths into your mouth, finally finding your hardened nipples and tweaking them with his thumb and index. He pulled lightly at them, making your buds even more sensitive. You cried out with a helpless “ah!” and he stopped, worry across his face as if he had hurt you. 

“F-feels really good. Don’t...don’t stop please...Jeongin...” 

Absentmindedly, your hips had started to grind against his leg, and he had taken notice of it too. Had you been a bit more attentive, you could’ve seen the way that his member had swelled in his navy slacks, and throbbed, begging for attention too. 

You could barely watch, but he hiked your shirt up, baring your cushy tummy for him to see only and you threw your embarrassed arms over your face. As long as you had kept the evil words at bay, they were much more seductive than any affirmation you could’ve repeated to yourself. 

“Oh-are you okay?” Do you want me to stop?” The young boy immediately stopped and removed his hands. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“N-no...it’s just...I’m really nervous be-because I’m--” 

He sighed, then pulled your shirt down once more. “I can stop doing that for now. But...I just want you to know...I think that everything about you is even more beautiful than you know and these...imperfections--which they’re not--is everything that drives me crazy. Please don’t think that I see you negatively at all. I promise that I want to make you feel good everywhere.” 

“Mm-okay.” You shook with a heavy sigh. “You aren’t...disappointed or anything?” 

Jeongin pressed a simple kiss onto your upper lip with a smile “Disappointed? Why?” 

“Because I don’t want--” 

“--No?? I’m not disappointed at all! You don’t owe me anything at all! Especially when you’re not comfortable with it.” 

“Hm, thank you.” 

He continued with a tiny grunt, lowering himself even closer to you, “Can I please kiss you some more?” 

You allowed him, with the warmth of your kisses' meeting in the middle. The heat in your pussy pooled even greater, and you grinded further, thirsting for him in ways that felt forbidden. For a brief moment, you felt the fear seeping back in, head racing with the dozens of thoughts that he might have if he were to see your stretch marks on your belly and on the top-parts of your thighs. The more that you found desire for him, the less that you were convinced that he wouldn’t desire you as much as you did him. 

“Do you want...I can touch down here too?” Jeongin hushed, breaking for a minute to hold your eyes earnestly. “Would that be okay?” 

He had noticed the way that you had pathetically rubbed into his leg, and this too sent your hands over your shy face. 

“M’ sorry...I can’t help...it feels good too...” 

“Don’t apologize! I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel the same way.” Your crush smiled with his eyes smiling in the same way. “You can...probably tell.” 

“--But...what if you don’t like it?” 

He cocked his head, “Like what?” 

Your lip quivered and you found tears stinging your eyes once more. “Don’t like..m-me? What I look like?” 

“What!? Y/n...my head is like frickin’ spinning thinking about what you look under these clothes--can you please believe me?” 

“It...it’s hard to...” Fat tears came waterfalling down your cheeks, and once again the young boy fully stopped his advances. 

“The fact that I’m here with you, kissing you like this after daydreaming about it for so long...there’s nothing more that I want than to make you feel good right now. Trust me.” 

“A-are you sure?” 

“Y/n. I’m 100% sure. And you don’t--you don’t have to even take this off if you don’t want to...” He toyed with your skirt. “But these might get in the way.” He ran both of his hands up and down your thighs and leggings with flat palms, and you felt your whole body ache for more than just that. “Again, we don’t have to if you don’t want.” he gave you a reassuring smile, “We still have the whole summer--” 

“I do!! I...still do...” 

Your quick answer started the both you, but Jeongin still didn’t advance faster than what was comfortable to you. Instead, he carefully snaked his hands up and under your skirt, finding the elastic of the leggings then pulled. 

His eyes blew out, enamored, seeing your bare skin, and he wetted his lips too seeing the way that your underwear had glistened with your essence. It was against your will, but you had soaked through your panties which he had swiped over a couple times accidentally, and the action itself sent an aching quiver to your untouched bud. You watched his every move has he angled his hand to ghost over the wet fabric, making you squeak from the new sensation. After, he found the band to your panties, pulling them down too. 

“Wow.” He gasped, seeing the way that your bud twitched. 

Jeongin dipped his fingers into your wetted folds, teasing at first. 

“Woah.” He said with a little gasp. “You’re really...” 

You stifled a moan with your lip, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer as his digits slicked with your arousal. “I-I know...I’ve never like, done anything like this before.” 

The young boy’s thumb grazed over your clit, eliciting an immediate response, and your heels went digging into the cushion of the couch. 

“This is your first time?’ He asked gently, two fingers now filling up your entrance. 

The best you could, you tried to remain quiet, but the harder and deeper that he had advanced, the harder that it became. Your eyes wandered, right to the pressure he had created under his belt loops, and you wondered furiously what he would’ve felt like inside of you; if he could stretch you out, or what it would have felt to just be like that with another person. 

Jeongin admired the way that your face scrunched up with a prideful little smile, and loved every minute of the way that your mouth would form airy “oh’s.” 

“You like feeling my fingers inside of you? Fucking right into your wet pussy?” 

His gaze held a lusty glaze seeing the way that your eyes blew out upon hearing his dirty words, and it only seemed to make him throb even harder himself. 

“Y-yes...” You mewled, reaching out grabby hands to hold yourself steady on his shoulders, the other going to tug at his belt. 

“I-I wouldn’t mind if you...you know...” 

Jeongin rolled his body over yours, attaching his lips with yours once more just to let the words stick on your tongue. “You want me to fuck you?” 

“Only-only if you want to--” You could barely get the words out feeling your thighs to shake as he coaxed your nearer and nearer with his thumb rubbing circles over your enlarged button. 

“Of course I want to.” He assured you with even more kisses. “Are you sure?” 

You hooked a couple of your fingers to pull out his black leather belt from its confines, muttering a tiny “yes.” 

Jeongin carried out the rest of your job for you, going to quickly clink the metal of his belt away, tossing it to the cement floor haphazardly. From the boxers that he wore, there were a couple little wet stains, and the outline of his dick protruded thickly. Seeing it like this awakened something in you, something primal and feral that wanted nothing more to be connected to this boy and to have him spread you out until you could barely breathe. It was a horribly naughty thought, but as shameful as you felt, it was just as thrilling. 

The boy sprung free his erect member, pink and dripping with his pearly pre-cum, and pumped at it a couple times, eyes raking over your whole body in the way that you had only ever dreamed of. 

“This is actually...my first time too.” 

He had said the words coolly, almost like he didn’t care at all about them, but you had assumed he had done so to keep you from worry. 

“Oh fuck--” He muttered, taking his left hand to reach under your shirt once more and play with your breast roughly. “God, I can’t believe that this is happening.” 

You coyly hiked up your skirt a bit higher for him to get better access, but not all the way, just as far as you could feel comfortable. 

“I might’ve thought about this a couple times...” Jeongin said with a tiny smirk, then slowly dipped his hand back down to wet his fingers with your arousal, then coat it around his length. When he did so, he let out an unapologetic groan that wavered out of his mouth and filled up the room beautifully. 

“I’m gonna go slow, okay? I feel like I heard somewhere that it can kind of hurt for you the first time?” 

You nodded out quickly to let him know, finally becoming impatient enough to claw at his arms all wrapped up in that grey hoodie of his. 

He leaned down one final time, kissing you over before aligning himself with your pussy, kissing down your jaw, then to your neck where he buried his head as he lead himself into you. His arms shook where he held himself up, and the two of you shuddered at the feeling at last: that euphoric, tight, unreal feeling that you shared for the first time. 

You whimpered out, digging your nails into his back, and his breath hitched in his throat too. 

“I-its...s-so..tight.” Jeongin barely got the words out, but merely let himself throb around your velvet walls for a moment. “Y-you okay?” 

“Mmhm.” You said, barely able to get more words out than this. 

Truthfully, it did hurt just a little, but not as much as you had pictured it to be, but it was more like a pressure, and it only grew heavier as you got used to him. 

Jeongin started to thrust his hips slowly, even painfully so, but he maintained his pace dragging his hips over yours. He filled you up so fully it was unfathomable, and his length pressed up against your deepest spot, sending a kind of electricity through your whole body. 

He settled into a rhythm, finally getting comfortable enough to return back to your mouth to slick his tongue across yours, and cradle the side of your face in his hand. You let little whimpers fade into his mouth, as he did for you, and after long, he had decided to speed up just slightly to milk himself off with your tight walls. To your surprise, he reached his hand back down to your clit to rub at it erratically. His pattern made little sense, but compared to how he had been stimulating you deep inside too, you could barely hold on. 

Jeongin grunted, biting into your lip with a trace of teeth. “I-I want you to c-cum first--I can’t...I can’t--” 

Before you could even understand what he had said, the young boy snapped his hips harder, eyes closed and tiny bits of sweat forming on his brow. The pads of his fingers pushed harder, and you found yourself spinning even closer to an orgasm by his hand, the thought alone was enough to fulfil your deepest fantasies. 

“I want you to cum all over my dick for me, okay? Sh-shit...” 

“Jeong--” 

“God, you’re...fuck...” He laughed a little. “I really really like you y/n. I really...” 

It was as if the words had been stolen right from his mouth, and his voice had abandoned him, but all he could do was press harder, faster, glide his hips over you rougher...

“M’ gonna--” You gasped out with your whole core tightening into a knot that was just about ready to snap. The pressure behind your clit was intense and burning, and you became light-headed nearing the brink. 

All at once you came with a searing and inexplainable white heat--much more intense than you had ever felt before in your whole life, and every single muscle in your body quaked as you did so, and you threw your head back to that dusty cushion of the couch. Your eyes rolled back on their own accord, and the best that you could do to muffle your moans was throw your hand over your mouth--which was quickly removed by the young man to do the job himself. 

Your thighs violently shook and you felt yourself tighten around him. He too strung out explicatives as if they were the only words that he had known. You breathed out shallow gasps into his palm, and soon he tore himself out of your walls with incessant breaths, only having to jerk himself off for a few moments before his swollen tip burst with the white strings of his cum. He continued jerking himself as such until he had nothing more to give, and his own thighs shook where he had straddled you. You could feel his warmth on your thigh and the way that it dripped and slicked with the sweat of your leg. 

Jeongin’s entire face flushed with pink, and he stammered out realizing the mess that he had made all over you. 

“I-I’m so sorry...I-I didn’t realize, I wasn’t thinking...I just...” 

While it was a predicament, you mustered the best smile that you could for him, secretly and utterly loving the way that it felt on your bare skin.   

“I’ve got...I can figure something out--” 

“--Jeongin?” 

His attention snapped back to you in your afterglow, and you could practically see the boy melt right then and there. 

“--Don’t worry about it.” 

Just as he had been before, his smile creased into a shy and awkward little line, and he could barely hold your eyes. After the initial embarrassment, he couldn’t help himself but admire you.

“Hey Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t know if you’ve ever heard this before, but I really do think that you’re perfect. If not perfect for yourself, I hope that I can show you how you are to me. You’re perfect for me. You’ve always been.” 

“So have you.” You admitted to him in that cobwebbed room that held all kinds of forgotten trinkets and items. 

“And thank you for giving me your letter too.” Jeongin raised the back of your hand to his lips where he placed a chaste kiss, then helped you carefully back up as to not make a mess of your skirt with the white staining your leg. 

Your crush smiled, then let out a gleeful exhale, “I can’t wait for this summer.” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

ahh i’ve read all ur childe fics and they are absolutely amazing 🥺 i also live for angst and the way you portray ur characters emotions is emasculate *chefs kiss* is it possible if i may request an angsty childe fic where his s/o feels betrayed after finding out hes only been with her as part of the fatui’s plans but throughout the process childe actually falls in love and never meant to hurt them? and pls a fluffy ending bc my heart can’t take angst 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Pairing - Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Reader

Warnings - Spoilers for Childe’s background.

Other Comments - Hello!! I am so glad that you are enjoying my stuff! I never would have imagined that I would receive so much positive feedback as I just started doing this but everyone has welcomed me with open arms hehe!!  (//▽//) Anyway you are in luck because I absolutely love writing angst so lets go! Also these are heavily inspired by the songs Decode and All I Wanted by Paramore so I kinda recommend listening to them while you read. (๑˘︶˘๑)

      Everyone you have encountered along your journey have been so friendly; all of them going out of their way to assist you. You have gained many friends along your way which have caused you to become quite a trusting person, to a fault at this point. Every person you have met with try their best to help you with your journey and leave a lingering friendship which you are incredibly grateful for. When you first decided you wanted to become an adventurer, your parents were extremely apprehensive, not trusting the world around you. You were determined to prove them wrong, and so far you have. 

      You had decided you wanted to settle down in Liyue for a while, exhausted from the constant traveling. This way you were always able to stay close around the Adventurers Guild. Along your journey of living in Liyue you had continued to meet many lovely and helpful people; one being a tall copper headed man. 

      During your travel and adventuring you had started to become a fairly big name, as you were incredibly skilled and managed to help save Mondstadt on a variety of occasions; even getting to know the grand master of the Knights of Favonius. So when a tall young man approached you, already knowing your name you weren’t all too surprised. You had already settled down into your small cozy apartment when he had come up to you.

      “Excuse me, you don’t happen to be (y/n) do you?” You looked up, your eyes meeting bright blue ones as you found the owner of the soothing voice.

      “Oh uh, yes that’s me. Is there something I can help you with?” A pleasant smile graced your face as the tall man gave a polite smile back before continuing. 

      “I was wondering if you could assist me with a domain, I seem to be having a bit more trouble with it than I had expected. I’ve heard you’re one of the best out there right now.” Your face flushed, something about this man was so endearing, and helping him out couldn’t be too hard, you had been able to defeat most of the domains in the area anyway so why not?

      “Sure, I’d be more than happy to help you out! Are you an adventurer like I am?” You heard Childe let out a low chuckle.

      “Oh no I am a Fatui Harbinger.” Wait- did he just say he was a Harbinger? You didn’t know much about the Fatui, but what you did know and have heard from other people was that the Fatui were always bad news. He didn’t seem like what everyone was saying though.

      “Well then, when would you like to go?”

      That was the beginning of your relationship with the Harbinger. After that you two both seemed to get along surprisingly well, and you found yourself struggling to stop seeing him. He was always on your mind, and with him almost always being around you that wasn’t helping either.

      “So, where shall we go today darling?” Childe had decided to take up space in your already cramped apartment, not that you were complaining. It had been about six months since you had settled down in Liyue and you decided it was finally time to start traveling again. You had formed a really close connection with Childe, he always seemed to be your savior in situations that you needed it. You hoped that Childe would come along with you, but part of you had a feeling that he had to stay here for some reason.

      “Well I was thinking I would go back to traveling again, I have stayed for about half a year so I think it’s time.” The smile that always seemed to find its place on Childe face quickly dropped, and you saw something change for a split second before returning back to normal.

      “Oh well if that’s what you want then I am not going to stop you, but I can no longer accompany you, you better leave as soon as possible though.” Now what could he have said that for. 

      “So you can cover as much ground of course!” Childe must’ve picked up on your questioning gaze when he said that, as a reassuring smile found its way back to his face.

      “I suppose you’re right, I need to say goodbye to the friends that I’ve made here though. Could you help me pack my things while I go do that?” A strong nod came from Childe before you granted yourself permission to leave.

      It took you longer than you had anticipated to track down and say goodbye to all of the friends you had made here and Liyue, which you could blame Xiangling for as she made sure to make plenty of your favourite dishes for your trip.

      As you approached your building you saw the back of the boy you knew so well, duck into a dark alley. Something could’ve been wrong, so to make sure he was okay you quietly followed a little ways behind. 

      “Are you deaf or just stupid? Your job was to get close to the dumb bitch and then bring them in. What is taking so long are you kidding?” A shorter man with a large hat was currently talking to Childe, surely they couldn’t be talking about you.

      “Listen I know what my orders were, I was just waiting for a good time.” Childe’s voice was quite and his eyes were focused on the ground.

      “If they’re leaving today, you better hope that they are still in Liyue for your own well being.” With that the shorter man quickly turned away and stormed off. So it was all a setup. Everything they did and talked about... All the things he told you... You as you were backing away in disbelief your shoe scuffed against the ground, causing Childe to whip around, those once familiar blue eyes meeting yours blowing out wide.

      “(Y/n) wait-” You didn’t let him finish before you took off sprinting up to your apartment, hoping to get up there and lock yourself in. Was he going to kill you for over hearing?

      You tripped a couple times going up the stairs hoping to the gods that you would still have enough time to shut and lock your door, all the while Childe was behind you begging for you to stop, for you to come back. Relief washed over you as your eyes found your door, adrenaline still pumping wildly through you. 

      “Please please please gods let me in!” You franticly attempted to unlock your door, the adrenaline making you shaky causing you to miss the keyhole. Your feverish prayers were answered when you flung the front door open, Childe’s loud footsteps pounding against the floor behind you. Right as you were slamming the door closed Childe’s body flew against the door, causing it to swing back open, hitting you in the process and tossing you to the ground; knocking the wind out of you.

      Childe stood over you, panting as he tried to catch his breath. Was this the end? Were you going to die? Your wild eyes found his, the fear in them causing him to falter. He never wanted to see fear in your eyes, especially not because of him. The darkness of the night made it hard to see, the only light spilling in from the hallway through your open front door, spotlighting your face and the tears you had falling down your cheeks. You don’t remember when you started crying but it was obvious now. Neither of you spoke for a while, not knowing what to say. It was clear that Childe wasn’t going to kill you, but that still left a plethora of issues.

      “You...” You began to speak, your voice shaky and uncertain. Childe’s eyes silently begged for you to stop.

      “You took advantage of me. Everything was a lie. Was anything that came out of your mouth true?!” Sadness and anger flushed your face and you slowly rose to your feet.

      “(Y/n) please... I never meant for it to go on this long.” That didn’t help his situation, that sentence having the same effect of putting water on an oil fire. Anger bloomed from your chest, almost making it hard to breathe.

      “I trusted you! I guess this is all my fault for putting my trust into a Fatui Harbinger! Childe’s not even your real name! I know NOTHING about you!! And... and I let you stay with me! Keep me company! I let you put your filthy hands on me! You kissed me!!” Tears began to spill faster, but not just from you this time.

      “(Y/n) please my feelings and actions towards you were no lies!! I admit this was all set up, but then I began to truly fall in love with you!! You have to believe me!” A loud broken laugh escaped your lips, almost like a bark.

      “Believe you?! Again I don’t even know your real name-”

      “Tartaglia.” This stopped you in your tracks, you couldn’t quite make sense of what he said.

      “What?” Your words were barely above a whisper.

      “My name. It’s Tartaglia. My family calls me Ajax. I am the 11th Harbinger of the Fatui. I moved to Liyue as a debt collector. I don’t want to be in the Fatui, not ever since I met you. You knew who the Fatui were and still chose to trust me. No one except my family has ever looked at me the way you do. I am from Snezhnaya. My birthday is July 20th. I enjoy ice fishing and combat. I have many siblings, a couple younger brothers named Teucer and Anthony and I have a sister named Tonia. See? You know so much more now!” You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, you just stared at him. Childe or Tartaglia rather, was clearly getting anxious at your silence, as he shifted around more or fiddled with his gloves. He was normally so confident, so seeing him like this was shocking.

      “(Y/n) please, say something; anything.” The desperation in his voice made your chest tighten. What could you say? On one hand you wanted to just forgive him and fall into his arms, on the other hand he had completely destroyed your trust; were you really willing on forgiving him that easily?

      “Childe... I...” You could see Tartaglia flinch, not used to the tone of his code name on you tongue. He wanted so desperately for you to just say his real name. He wanted to embrace you, for you to forgive him. He would find a way out of this for the both of you. 

      “(Y/n) I will help you. I fell in love with you. I knew the second I set my eyes on you that I say going to fall for you. I will get you out of this situation, I have to. I know it’s stupid to say this now, but you have to trust me on this. After I get you out of here is when you can hit me scream at me and tell me never to see you again. I just need to make sure you’re safe.” You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore as you began to cry again. Tartaglia stepped close to you, slowly to make sure that you had a way to back up if you didn’t want him to get closer. When you didn’t move he took that as an ‘okay’ to get close, and that’s what he did.

      Slowly the distance between the two of you closed as Tartaglia sunk to his knees and clung to you. His hold on you was iron tight, as he waited and hoped for you to return the hold; which much to his surprise you did. You clung to him and cried. 

      “I will make you trust me again (y/n). I will make you trust me and I will keep you safe. You have my word. I love you.”