#but i can’t help it it’s a pretty important part of his character

[pochipop]

＃LOVE AND DEEPSPACE !! ♡ — HOW I CRAVE YOU IN THE MORNIN' (RAFAYEL X READER).

#. synopsis! — rafayel doesn't really like mornings, but heaven knows he likes you .

#. characters! — rafayel.

#. warnings! — none .

#. word count! — 1.3k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

Rafayel has never been a morning person. He likes to watch the occasional sunrise if he wakes naturally to catch it, but heaven knows he’s loath to pull himself out of bed before he feels good and ready. You, on the other hand, don’t tend to have the luxury of sleeping in until whenever you please. The life of a Deepspace Hunter often requires early starts, and now that you’ve woven your life so tightly between the threads of Rafayel’s, he’s seldom excluded from the harsh ring of your alarm coercing you out of bed, out of your dreams of sweet nothings, and into the real world (which is often much less pretty.)

You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that Rafayel is already pouting at the mere thought of your departure, and your suspicions are confirmed when he snakes his arms around your waist, groaning.

“Baby,” he mutters, “don’t go, the bed gets so cold when you leave.”

You sigh.

“Have to,” you murmur, still half asleep. “Work.”

“Call in sick.”

“I’m not sick,” you answer, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You know my work is important for more reasons than one, Rafayel.”

“I do know,” he sighs, though it’s clear he’s less than happy about agreeing.

In fairness, you’re not particularly happy about this either. You love your job, worked hard to get it and climb the ranks within it, but man, sometimes you wish it were possible to pay the bills with currency earned cuddling in bed with the man nuzzling into your neck like a kitten. 

“Then don’t ask me to call in sick,” you laugh, turning your head to press a soft kiss to his warm temple.

He groans again, though you know he appreciates the affection.

Gently and with great reluctance, you pull yourself from Rafayel’s embrace, though you can’t help but take a moment to marvel at the way early morning rays of light filter through the curtains, playing on his delicate features. His eyes like marbled sunsets lazily find their way to you, still heavy with sleep, peering up at you in a mixture of love and discontent.

“You’re a menace to my sleeping schedule,” he grumbles playfully.

“Consider it payback for all the nights you’ve kept me up too late,” you answer jokingly, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’ll have you know, keeping you up at night is a vital part of our relationship,” he pouts, but there’s an unmistakable glint of mischeviousness in his tired gaze.

You giggle, knowing he’s joking (at least in part.)

“I’ll make it up to you,” you move closer, cupping his cheeks in your hands and leaning down to peck his lips. “Promise.”

“You better,” he mutters.

“Don’t I always?” You inquire, fingers feathering through his soft hair.

“Yeah,” he acknowledges in a semi-rare moment of complete sincerity from the man who often goes through the world half-wittingly. “You do.”

You smile, soft and warm, leaning in for another lingering kiss, savoring the warmth and familiarity of Rafayel’s touch. His arms reach up, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer, as if he’s hesitant to let go.

“Be safe, okay?” He says.

“Always,” you nod.

Before, you might have mistaken his concern for a lack of trust in your abilities, but you’re well past the point of pointless misunderstandings. Rafayel may be an artist, and he might spin his words like golden threads from time to time, making you read between the lines, but your sincerest assessment of the moment tells you he’s said exactly what he means. He wants you to be safe, wants you to come home in one piece, and you let him steal another quick kiss before standing upright.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you add, hoping it might soften the blow of your departure.

His playful pout returns.

“You seem to doubt the depth of my ability to lament over your absence,” he states.

“I don’t doubt it at all, but I’d rather you find more enjoyable ways to spend your day,” you laugh.

He sighs dramatically.

“Bring back something interesting from your adventure,” he suggests, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. “Maybe something I can crush up, turn into paint.”

“Need I remind you what happened the last time you used an oddly sourced item for pigment?” You ask incredilously.

Rafayel rolls his eyes.

“Need I remind you that that’s precisely how we met?” He counters.

“Still,” you sigh, “I’d much prefer you not be endangered by your paint. Stick with oils and acrylics for a while. For my peace of mind.”

“Is that concern I detect from you, my little hunter?” Rafayel grins.

“Of course it is,” you reply honestly. “You might be pretentious and obnoxious, but I love you. I’d never want you in harm’s way.”

His teasing smirk softens to a genuine smile at your sincerity, and he stands, taking a moment to stretch before reaching out to caress the curve of your jaw with the top of his index finger.

“Obnoxious and pretentious, huh?” He chuckles lightly. “Thank you for the glowing evaluation of my character, darling. But, because I do happen to love you as well, I’ll let that little dig slide, —and I’ll do my very best to stick to safe and traditional mediums, at least for the time being, just for you.”

You can’t help but smile at Rafayel’s good-natured reply. His gentle touch lingers on your jaw, and you lean into it, relishing in the softness of his affection.

“Very much so appreciated,” you answer amusedly. “I’ll consider it a personal victory if we can avoid any and all paint-related Wanderer incidents for the forseeable future.”

Rafayel gives a curt nod.

“A noble goal, my dearest hunter,” he says. “Now go forth and fell any pesky Wanderers intent on disturbing the peace of our humble city of high-class electronic developments, bringing back tales of wonder and triumph.”

Heaven knows he has to be the most dramatic man you’ve ever met, but you couldn’t imagine him being any other way.

You play along and give him a mock salute.

“Yes sir, at once.”

Rafayel stifles a laugh, clearly pleased by your participation in his theatrics. He thinks for a moment that this life he lives with you is nothing short of fantastical, —the kind of comfort he only dreamed of just years ago, and now here you are before him, like some kind of angel he’s terrified he might wake up to find was a figment of his deepest desires all along. But his worries are quenched by the way your lips slot so perfectly against his own as he leans in, kissing you sweetly.

“May the cosmic forces be ever in your favor, my love. Return not only with tales of triumph, but also interstellar souvenirs for my viewing pleasure and artistic inspirations if you happen to stumble across any. Preferably ones that will not curse our modest seaside home.”

You laugh, and it makes his heart stutter.

“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for cosmic trinkets,” you assure.

You’re thrumming by the time Rafayel pulls you in again, pressing you closer to his chest. There’s nothing he has to say to fill the silence, and you let your eyes close for a moment, awash in the silent exchange of understanding so deep it could rival the cosmos. Beyond all the playful banter and the theatrical mannerisms, there’s love here, and that’s really all you could ask for. Worries about your safety, concern over Rafayel’s tendency to attract bad omens, —they dissipate in the face of this connection that buzzes like a live wire.

As you finally pull away, you meet his gaze and find nothing but softness there, replacing all the prior amusement and tiredness from before.

“Return safely, my angel. Our oceanside abode awaits your triumphant arrival,” he takes your hand, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “And so do I.”

[raitonsfw]

bsd men: first time edition

characters: nakahara chūya, nakajima atsushi, & dazai osamu.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, virgin!reader, loving!chūya, virgin!atsushi, smug!dazai, positions: missionary (chūya's & atsushi's) & riding (dazai's), p in v intercourse, slight clit play, premature ejaculation (atsushi's), kissing, praising, pining, slight dirty talk, consent, hint of pain, some uncertainty, new sensations, chūya's part feels poetic to me (almost cried writing it), atsushi ruins his trousers hehe (he's so cute), dazai's quite big ahem- (iykwim).

a/n: why not start a tiny bsd series with sharing their first times with you? probably a v popular idea, but we always need more variety you know? wc: 1.9k m.list

next up: bsd men: first time edition pt 2. (nikolai, fyodor, & sigma)

divider credit: @hitobaby

❝𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚'𝐬❞ first time with you goes exactly as planned. a bottle of wine waited for you in the kitchen afterwards as he delicately hovered over you with an intoxicating smile. he didn’t want to drink beforehand– this moment was too important to get wine drunk over, too intimate to get lavished from the red liquid and you appreciated the gesture. 

the silk sheets kissed your skin, felt underneath you with a cold sheen and you reveled in the way his mouth tasted like you were his wine; sweet and delicate to the touch as his tongue lapped into your mouth. careful not to break – not to shatter you – as his gloved palms ran over the flesh of your hips, soft fingertips dipping into the innate crevices of your body. 

when he pushed into you, there was a hint of pain– but it was completely erased by the gentleness of his fingers soothing against your blushed cheeks. you felt at ease in his arms, your hands shielded over his lithe figure, and he knew his back would soon be littered with scratches. your legs wrapped around him as he settled deep inside you– waiting for you to adjust to the imploring feeling of being connected. 

“it’s okay, darling– tell me when i can move. i’ll make sure you feel so good…” 

“fuck you’re so tight around me… can’t think straight–”

and you loved that of him. you adored the way he looked at you, his rich eyes searching for any discomfort and brushing it away. his humanity shone through and you wondered how he could possibly think that such a cherished feeling wasn’t human itself? he had held back a groan when he sank into you, your walls hugging him tightly with a sharp inhale coming from you but now his voice failed him as you prompted him to move.

a low groan escaped his lips as he pulled out of you gingerly and thrusted back in, your mind nearly going numb at the first stroke. for such a tiny man, he surely knew how to curve thickly inside you– his cock nudging against the sweet bundle of nerves. you let out a quiet moan, your head tipping back onto the pillows and your entire body relaxing against his. everything seemed to have melted away as he took to a languid rhythm, soft kisses against your neck and chest littering your skin.

every time you squeezed around him, his eyes would roll back and he’d jolt inside you– his hips stuttering and a tiny curse expelling from him until he held eye contact with you. and god, did that make you feel gorgeously exposed – piercing blue staring back at you with such intimacy drawn in them, it made your heart flutter and dance. you couldn’t help but take his roseate cheeks into your hands, capturing him into a searing kiss that he thought about for days on end afterwards. 

you were so caught up within your pleasure, you didn’t have time to tell him you were close but he knew way before you did; quiet praises coaxing you closer and closer to your release.

“c’mon, give it to me sweetheart– yes…” 

and when you came, it was a blossoming feeling. your body shook with pleasure and chūya could barely hold his own, desperately trying not to cum yet but failing miserably as you let out those pretty little moans for him. 

your back arched against him, both of your chests touching and with a light hand, he subconsciously swiped it over the small of your back to keep you in place with his ability caressing you so you wouldn’t slump against the bed too harshly. 

“so good for me, y/n… had me losing my mind.”

❝𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢'𝐬❞ first time with you is also his first time. you knew he was a virgin beforehand, his slight jumpy actions whenever you placed your hand on his thigh– dare you try to go further with him, his whole face would turn red and you’d think it was the cutest thing ever. 

when you finally made the move on atsushi, his lips wouldn’t work properly as he stuttered out ‘a-are you sure, y/n?’ and you’d just melt at the way he laid back for you when you straddled him with a passionate kiss. you just had to shut him up or else you’d second guess yourself even though you wanted him to practically mount you since the day you met him at the agency.

you’d be so fucking careful too– careful enough as to not scare him away, he was always so flighty when it came to intimacy. but this time, he seemed to revel in every muted touch to his body. your fingers would trail down his chest, toying with his suspenders and your other hand would thread into his hair– the swayed black highlight in it slicking back as he got more needy with each kiss. 

his hands would fly to your hips, your clothed cunt flush with his stiffened cock– and you’d make the mistake of grinding down onto him. he’d cum in his trousers seconds after, a choked moan escaping him against your lips and it’d turn you on sooo much. it’s like he was reliving his teen years, freshly sixteen and barely able to contain his horniness when he felt a woman’s touch for the first time.

as you pulled away to look at him, he’d turn his head away with a quiet ‘sorry’ slipping from his mouth and god, if you weren’t wet then… you’re soaked now. you’d tease him– ‘atsushi, never had a pretty girl grind on you? how cute…’ to which he’d respond with simply rolling you two over in bed, him now on top of you.

“if you’re really sure, we can do it this way.”

“w-would you like that?”

and now it’s your turn to go red in the face, your legs parting to let him in. with shaky fingers, he’d undress you– each article of clothing ending up near the end of the bed and he’d take every opportunity he had to ogle at your figure. you looked so beautiful underneath him– him of all people – and he was certain if he touched his cock now, he’d explode. 

and when you wrapped your hand around him to guide him in, thank god he didn’t; his insides shifting as you gave him a small smile. the tip of his cock nudged up against your entrance and you both looked down as he sunk inside you. a gasped moan met you, which you swallowed up early– your own whines in tune with his as he started to move inside you. 

“l-love you soo much– you okay baby?”

you’d nod every time he asked, your mouth ghosting over his neck and his shoulders as he buried his head into yours– every thrust feeling so overwhelming to you but it felt so good… for as long as it lasted at least. his hips had started stuttering into you, quiet pants and whimpers leaking into your ear as his high caught up to him quickly. he couldn’t stop from stringing out your name in a long drawn moan either, his eyes squeezing shut as he reached his second orgasm within the hour.

“‘m so sorry… g-gonna cum–!”

he stilled in you, weakly shuddering through his release and you massaged his back softly as he collapsed against you after. his cum dripped out of you, around his own cock as he didn’t even manage to pull out and you’d pepper kisses into his skin. atsushi would mumble out some nonsense, presumably a ‘thank you’ and once he came to, you knew he’d return the favor– with your guidance of course. 

❝𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮'𝐬❞ first time with you goes…not exactly how you expected. with the exception of his bandages loosening underneath your grasp and his urge to just straight up bounce you on his cock, you didn’t know what you had gotten yourself into. 

he insisted on you riding him the first time– that way if anything happened you could just get off of him and that was that. definitely not because of the way your figure was practically on display for him, your breasts jiggling and your pretty pussy fluttering around him as you sunk down unassuredly. 

you didn't know where to put your hands so they ended up fluctuating between holding them against your chest and resting them against his sternum, pressing deeply as another wave of pleasure rolled through you when you leaned slightly forward. his cock nestled up right against your cervix, curved upwards long and thick and you nearly died on spot when he first pulled it out. 

you knew dazai had been packing, but you didn’t really think twice about it until it was prodding against your entrance. the head of it slipped past your folds and you had gasped out, his bandages nearly tearing from the sheer grip you had on them. and then he bottomed out and… oh, wow– you never felt so full in your entire fucking life. 

“that’s it, good girl– took me like a champ.”

“how ‘bout you put on a show for me?” 

you didn’t know what he meant, but you tried your best as you lifted yourself up on his cock– the crown catching lightly against your hole and sinking back down onto him quickly. your hands quaked, a bit of pain shooting through your abdomen before dissipating as you moved more fluidly on him.

you looked at dazai halfway through, half-lidded eyes meeting yours and suddenly, you understood why people have sex now. his entire face was smug, his mouth open in silent pants, and his bangs stuck to his forehead with his arms crossed behind his head. it was hot– the way his eyes followed the bounce of your breasts and the movements of the back of your thighs smacking down slightly against his own. 

he wasn’t very loud, which you had coined him to be before but maybe you had to wait. with his lustered personality, you were sure he’d pipe up near the end, his hips starting to work against yours with a searing grasp against your own hips. 

he practically moved them for you, lifting you up and down against him with little waver and his eyes rolled back when you clenched around him, a cry leaving your mouth as he nudged your sweet spot. 

“right there, hm? use your words, baby.”

your voice was broken apparently as you could barely form his name on your tongue, overwhelming pleasure coursing through your entire body as he fucked up into you earnestly now. you couldn’t hold back your moans anymore, same with him – you knew it – his low groans filling the air now with every thrust. 

you felt so good around him, tight and now made to fit his cock personally. he only ever wanted his cock buried deep in you from now on, no one else’s; you were his until the day you two decided the afterlife. 

your orgasm fluttered up your spine, quick and brutal until it was right there and you tried to tumble off, a sharp whine escaping you. you looked to dazai for help, a needy look too and he cooed at you with a smirk. 

“yeah, gonna cum on my cock? how darling. cum for me, y/n.”

his fingers grazed your clit, rubbing it expertly and your orgasm washed over you within seconds. you were too far gone to notice the tiny whimpers that escaped the brunette as you convulsed on his cock, the desperation that overtook him as he watched you fall apart– his vision went white when he came inside you. 

yeah, this wasn’t exactly what you expected but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

[lawchwan]

you look pretty when you cry (zoro, law, sanji)

summary: how they would react when they see you cry requested: @somethingsaladsomething reader: gn!reader disclaimer: nsfw with sanji, use of safeword, (although the sex is consensual, sanji’s can be a bit triggering so if you don’t want to deal with the whole thing, i suggest you skip it), implied physical harassment with zoro, while this is gn! reader was refered as wife in zoro’s part, implied depression or anxiousness with law (although i suffer from both, the piece is not the most accurate rep so take it as you will), rushed work, just one piece characters being sweeties genre: headcanon, fluff, suggestive a/n: my first request !!! i hope i don't disappoint here :) sorry i took forever though

crossposted on ao3

Law

Now I don't want to sit in the chat and say Law’s emotionally unintelligent, because he is not but he definitely has his moments where he needs to read the room before he acts. bare with him, he's just learning with you on how a relationship should work. he’s the type to leave you alone when you’re upset because thats his usual instinct that when one’s upset, they want to be left alone. he kinda has to learn the hard way that that’s not always the case…

You woke up in a funk and just did not feel alright. You were stressed and burned out and all you wanted was the comfort of your big hunk of a boyfriend, a simple cuddle with no exchange of words would've sufficed for your case.

Unfortunately, that's not how life works and it can be pretty unfair. Law’s been too preoccupied with whatever he's doing. With what? you don't know and don't care, what could he be doing that's more important than comforting you on your worst days? Furthermore, it didn't help that when you woke up, he wasn't even next to you in bed before he up and left.

Loneliness consumed you as your intrusive thoughts began to take their toll on you and start inhabiting your psyche. You knew they were irrational, you knew that Law wasn't going to leave you, you knew that he has the terrible habit of Irish Goodbye-ing his way out of a situation, you KNEW that you mean so much to him.

But his lack of communication is a flaw that you never think will challenge you as you thought you already what was coming. Law was a man with little words, so you can’t expect much from him, right?

You began tearing up as you start to grasp onto the pillow that Law once laid in, getting any ounce of remnants of him that can act as a source of comfort. Sure, it contained his manly scent that makes swoon and the pillow was soft, however it didn’t contain his usually cold beating heart that you enjoyed listening while holding him. You needed him badly as you began sobbing into the plush.

Unbeknownst to you, Law walked in, completely unbothered as he placed his kikoku to the side and closed the door. It didn’t register until he heard sniffles and the muffled sobbing that made Law furrow his brows in confusion. You began shaking as you almost screamed into the pillow Law would usually sleep in.

Law looked around the room in an almost panicked manner, almost like he’s trying to find the source on who made you cry before he leaned in to the bed and began shaking you.

“hey, hey, (y/n), what happened?!” Law hastily spoke. He was not the best at emotions but he will surely go kill someone that made you feel this way.

You lifted your face from the pillow, finally looking up at the person who has been in your mind the whole time he was gone. He’s studying your face while your lips quivered before you tackled his body by wrapping your whole body into his, your face on his neck. Law threw one arm behind him for support while the other arm instinctively wrapped around your midriff.

As you two settled, Law held your head as the other began stroking your back. He didn’t know what resulted in you acting this way, so he began speaking.

“(y/n), is there any—“

“Shut up, Law,” you interrupted as you spoke into his skin which made Law taken aback, “I just want you in my arms…”

Law’s tensed body relaxed as you grasped onto him like he was about to fade away from your arms. He is usually very awkward about physical touch and emotional confrontation, but he knew he can’t simply walk away from you and leave you be whenever you you’re not feeling the greatest.

he realizes that that it’s okay to remain, and if you wanted to be left alone, you’ll tell him. For now, however, all you both need is to be in each other’s arms to ease each other up.

“It’s okay, (y/n)… I’m here now”

Zoro

another awkward man who doesn’t know how to deal with emotions. he, like law, will go after someone who tries to harm his loved ones, he’s not here to play around.

You were running for the life of you, panting as you picked up the speed as someone was chasing you down. Everything was happening so fast, one second you were just eyeing at beautiful and intricate jewelry at bazaar near town, in awe of the sheer beauty and how colorful these gems gleamed in center. It was in the pricier side, which is what you expected, but you couldn’t help but gawk at the shiny gemstone that was practically calling your name.

A man stood by you, observing how you were eyeing at the jewel, took the opportunity to introduce himself and insist on buying this beautiful gem. You’ve naturally rejected his offer…

And next thing you knew, he was harassing you and chasing you down, demanding your hand in marriage. You ran away before he caught you—thanks to Zoro’s training in speed—but that’s all you could manage to do. You began finding a spot to hide, bumping into locals as you proceed to run while the man was calling out for you.

Once you find a crevice you can hide in, you kneeled as you began to wrap your arms around your legs as your breath began to shake in fear. Tears started to well up as you silently began calling out your boyfriend, hoping he can save you from this.

“(y/n)?” you hear a familiar voice, making your head jolt up at the man standing in front of you. It was Zoro, your boyfriend whom you prayed will show up. You only shook as you began stuttering and standing up to hold him.

You began sobbing onto his chest, meanwhile he froze in place, clueless on what to do. Your intention of hiding was shown to be futile, as your sobs echoed in the market, drawing unwanted attention while Zoro was looking around to see what happened, what lead to you in this mess.

“(y/n), I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on—” Zoro sternly yet worriedly spoke before he was interrupted by a roar.

“You get your filthy hands out of my future wife!”

Your blood ran cold as you heard that deep voice that struck fear into you. Once Zoro felt the stiffness and looked at the man who stood in front of the two of you, he already connected the puzzle pieces together.

So that’s the bastard that made you cry in fear…

“Your future wife, you say,” Zoro smirked that iconic devilish smirk before he rubbed your back, silently telling you to release him, which you did. That’s who Zoro was, a man with not many words, but you understood his language better than anyone could. You stood back while Zoro crossed his arms with a straight stand as he eyes at the man who’s ready attack him.

“That’s right! I even got her the jewel she wanted!” The harasser yelled as he grabbed hold of the jewel. You once admired that ring he was holding, now that it was in his hands, he absolutely tainted it. But Zoro couldn’t careless, he gathered both of his swords out, making the man jump in fear.

“Oh, I see, you got her that ring, how romantic…” Zoro taunted, enjoying the sight of the cowardly man standing in front of him. You only gulped at the sight, you knew Zoro will kill him, and he could only spare him if the man just ran away. Zoro simply walked up to him only for the man to walk backwards, legs shaking.

“Stand back! O-or I will kil—“

“Would like to see you try.” Zoro harshly spoke, which made the man ran before Zoro intimidatedly raised his sword at him.

“Coward,” he mumbled to himself before he placed his swords back to their case. Before he turned, he looked at the gleaming ring on the ground. He walked up to the source and picked it up to examine it, that was the ring that the man was holding earlier.

He turned to you, hugging yourself in the corner, not wanting your boyfriend to see your crying face. He smiled at you as he showcased the ring in his palm, “is this the ring that you were admiring?”

You only pursed your lips as you nodded. As much as you wanted to hate the ring for what that man did, you still had to admit that that ring was the most beautiful jewel you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

Zoro held your hand gently, and placed the ring in your ring finger. You looked at him in awe, only for him to smirk at you.

“I may not have bought the ring, which is a shame, but you deserve it…” He’s not the most romantic, but he always means well, which made you giggle when he tried to be one. He smiled at you as he held your face, rubbing away the remaining tear on your face.

”i got you, okay? just remember that…”

Sanji

out of the three of them, Sanji’s definitely the more in tune of emotions. He may not be the vulnerable one in the relationship, but he definitely allows himself to be emotional when he wants to with you and this man will do anything that will make that frown upside down.

It was a long night after a stressful day for the two of you. You thought you needed that destress but I guess your body asked for something different.

It was like any other regular session, Sanji gave you the foreplay that you needed before he laid on top of you, thrusting in and out of you letting out the sweetest of moans and whimpers.

He praises you and repeatedly tells you how good you feel, all the thibgs that typically turns you on, yet you feel like you’re in pain.

You don’t know what’s wrong, but you just didn’t feel good while Sanji attempts on pleasuring you. Instead there was this sharp pain in between your legs, the stretch of his cock went from the usual pleasurable sensation to discomfort.

“S-sanji… please…” you moaned out, but it wasn’t of arousal. Unfortunately, it sounded too similar to your pleasured state, thus Sanji thought you were just in pleasure, so he went in a pace much painful than you expected.

“fuck, c’mon, baby, c’mon, you’re doing so good~”

There was no use, you were in so much pain and you felt your tears welling up and started to sob at the sharp that your boyfriend has no idea of. You simply cannot take it anymore.

”BUTTERSQUASH!”

once you yelped out the safeword, Sanji’s blissed closed eyes shot open as he halted his movement. He was looking at the headboard until he heard you sob. His heart sank as he pulled away from you and backed away slightly, far to give you space but close enough to be able to check on you.

“baby, are you okay?” He looked at you with concern in his eyes, his blue eyes glimmer in worry, guilt written all across his face, “I am so sorry, darling, I should’ve guessed that you weren’t comfortable…”

You reached out for his hand and shook your head as you got closer to him, “don’t apologize, I thought I also needed this, but I guess I don’t”

That didn’t reassured his guilty self one bit, so you began stroking his face and placed your forehead on his.

“It’s okay, Sanji, I’m okay.”

Sanji just pulled you in to his embrace and you hugged him back as you relax onto his arms.

“I’ll never hurt you, nor will I allow anyone to hurt you… You’re too precious to be hurt…”

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

[ifyoucandaniel]

exactly one person asked and i’ve been DYING to make this, so here are all of my favorite long batman fanfics in general and for new readers @twisted-tales-told :)

cards on the table by @wesslan ! 69k, completed. this is one of my all time favorite fanfictions, it’s so funny and tim is a mastermind genius and a little liar <3 he basically pretends to be a fortune teller and gives scarily good predictions and advice by stalking the upper class and eventually gets involved with the batfam and has to maintain his lies while dealing with his issues :) 10/10, very found family, good angst, so much lying

Dark Matter by @mysterycyclone , 221k, ongoing. this is a batman fanfic rec, of course my bbg dark matter is going to be here <3 this is a MCUxDCU crossover where after infinity war (spoilers for that if you haven’t seen it!) peter parker gets sent to the DCU dimension with part of the soul stone and basically is haunted by the ghosts of the avengers while trying to survive in gotham and get back to his dimension. this is so well written i’ve read it at least three times, it’s still ongoing but trust me it is SO GOOD. i can’t properly describe it, but if you like spider-man and you are interested in batman, you’ll love.

Red is the Color of Sinners by @bluelotuswrites , series, 120k, ongoing, M. i want you to look me in my eyes when i tell you this is my favorite series on ao3. it is set after under the red hood and daredevil 3 where jason and matt meet in a church after jason loses his ability to speak following the events of UTRH. they keep running into each other both as matt and daredevil and eventually jason begins helping matt out with injuries and tech. it’s not finished yet, but there is something so compelling about their dynamic in this series as well as jason’s overall character and how he is portrayed. i’m a sucker for mute jason after UTRH and this series does so well giving him a fresh start and a place away from gotham to heal and build relationships. i cannot recommend enough.

buy back the secrets by @vinelark , 71k, ongoing, T. THIS!!! oh my god, so this is a timkon fic where kon still doesn’t know tim’s civilian identity, but whenever he’s in trouble tim calls for superboy which leads to them meeting without kon knowing. shenanigans ensure when kon starts spending more time with tim! it’s still ongoing but the author is currently working on the next part and it is so so worth the wait. chapter 4 ends on a cliffhanger though so be warned :))

Sales People Know (listening is the most important part) by Mayhem10, 77k, completed, T. this has the coolest urban magical realism ever. tim basically runs this magic shop that shows up places and people who need something find it in his shop :) it’s kinda a slow burn found family fic with magic themes and a smidge of angst!

Retrograde Motion by Lysical, 112k, completed, T. this is best de-aged kid fic ever. jason gets turned into a 7 year old and basically the outlaws, artemis and biz, join forces with the batfam to take care of him. but trust me when i say this is worth your time, it might sound tropey but in the best way possible!! and jason’s relationship with artemis is sooo important to me in this!

Hand in Unloveable Hand (a chokehold) by britishparty, 54k, completed, M. this is one of the best psychological torture/grooming fics i’ve ever read. pretty much what if while our taking photos of batman and robin, little tim gets kidnapped and black mask gets his hands on him and decides he’s the perfect size for a protege. years of psychological abuse and insane mind games ensue. also tim is a Badass™️

If He Had Come by bronwe_iris, 45k, completed, T. so i’m a little freak and i love the angst of arkham knight jason, but more specifically the aus where bruce saves jason before he becomes the arkham knight! this is an au where bruce finds jason and saves him from the joker after 9 months of torture and brings him home. focuses on his healing mentally and physically and rebuilding his relationship with his family

Banshee in a Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee), 43k, completed, T. veeeery good angst. basically what if tim couldn’t die? 43k of tim drake whump where he just dies a bajillion times and eventually his family notices <3

The Birds: Hatching a Family by Oceanera12, 81k, completed, T. this is like “what if the batkids weren’t adopted by bruce, but instead they were all foster siblings who can’t seem to stay out of gotham at night and batman happens to find them and decides obviously he can’t leave these kids to their own business, he has to stick his nose in it” and there’s some angst and heaps of found family

The Hellblazer’s Apprentice by @bluelotuswrites, 29k, ongoing, M. what can i say, im a simple woman, i love to see jason with literally any older male mentor :) basically in UTRH what if he took up an apprenticeship under constantine to learn magic to piss off batman! so good, i really love constantine so seeing him and jason interact in a long fic is so good. also ALL BLADES JASON TODD SAVE ME… ALL BLADES JASON TODD-

something in the static by bonerot19, 101k, ongoing series with three main completed works, T. this is a jason centric series where jason still lives in crime alley with his mom and dad and never stole the batmobile tires. it follows his life in crime alley with an addict mom and an abusive dad and one night when his dad is whaling on him nightwing finds him and the bats just can’t seem to leave him alone after that. steph is his neighbor and best friend also and their relationship is so good. this is a “what if jason took a different way home to the wayne’s” fic series and i love it so much <3

catch the asteroids that come your way by ThePackWantsTheD, 54k, completed, T. i don’t read a lot of ships in the batman fandom i’m sorry, but this kyle/jason one is sooo lovely. basically the two of them growing up together and falling in love and then dealing with the aftermath of A Death in the Family and finding each other again :) really sweet and nice!

hope you find something you like! i realized the majority of these are tim or jason centric, and i love them all dearly, but if anyone has any recs for long fics focusing on any of the other batkids lmk! and any other recs in general, i am a fiend for new fics

[crystallinestars]

Falling asleep and waking up together with him

A collection of headcanons on what I think falling asleep and waking up with a few of the Genshin men would be like (alternatively, just me rambling about how much they love you).

Characters: Thoma, Xiao, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Diluc, Childe, and Kazuha

Thoma

🍡 Thoma comes home late after his duties as a housekeeper for the Kamisato clan. He’s used to the grueling work, so he’s not as exhausted as he used to be when he first started the job, but the physical work still takes a toll on him, and he tends to fall asleep pretty quickly. Even so, he tries to stay awake long enough to chat with you while you snuggle in bed together, sharing stories about your day and your hopes for the future. Thoma likes to hug you close to him while you both fall asleep, both because he enjoys feeling your presence and because he feels the need to keep you safe. And no place is safer than in his arms, or so he thinks.

🍡 As a part of his duties for the Kamisato clan, Thoma wakes up really early so he and other housekeepers can get started on cleaning and cooking before the masters of the manor wake up. As such, he always wakes up before you, so you hardly ever get to see him before he leaves your shared home. Thoma feels bad that he can’t greet you a good morning in person, but he still wants to show you that he cares, so he cooks you breakfast. It’s become a routine for you to walk into the kitchen in the morning and find an entire breakfast spread on the table full of various delicious foods and a note from Thoma wishing you a good day ahead. Thoma also packs you a lunch for you to take to work (or eat at home). By nature, Thoma feels compelled to take care of you, and he will be damned if you go hungry.

🍡 If he comes home to find that you haven’t eaten breakfast, then he’ll be disappointed and scold you for skipping the most important meal of the day. He would be genuinely upset and worried for your health, fussing over you almost like a parent. It would be in your best interest to just eat the breakfast he prepares you to avoid worrying him more.

🍡 During your mutual days off, Thoma still wakes up early out of habit. He lays in bed next to you while you sleep, keeping his arms wrapped around you as he watches you snooze. The two of you don’t always have as much time to spend together as you’d like due to your busy schedules, so Thoma tries to take advantage of these moments to spend time with you and admire you. He wants to let you sleep, but seeing your cute sleeping expression fills him with too much affection for him to contain, and he can’t help but press a few kisses to your forehead and cheeks. Thoma’s kisses usually disturb your sleep, and he apologizes for waking you. He lets you go back to sleep if you want to and just gets up by himself, or if you choose to stay awake, he’ll be delighted to shower you in more kisses and hug you tighter to him, getting in some of that affection he didn’t have the chance to indulge in during the week.

🍡 Thoma loves waking up together with you, as rarely as that happens, since it gives him more time to spend with you. His favorite activity to do with you is cooking a meal together, so it becomes routine for you to help him out in the kitchen while he cooks you both breakfast. Even if your cooking skills are lacking, Thoma instructs you on what you can do to help, making sure to keep the tasks simple if you’re not much of a chef like he is. Even if he ends up doing most of the work, Thoma appreciates whatever help you provide him with. After all, the purpose of cooking together is less about the outcome and more about doing something together with you. He also finds that eating together with you makes the food taste better. You can laugh at him for that and poke fun at him all you want, but he claims that it’s true. Being around you just makes everything better.

Xiao

👹 Xiao refuses to sleep in the same bed as you, saying he doesn’t want to risk exposing you to his karma for extended periods of time. No matter how much you try to convince or beg him, his answer is always a firm no. He loves you, and it’s because he treasures you so much that he doesn’t want to hurt you. It would break him if you fell to harm because of him, so he always turns down your offers to sleep next to you even if it breaks his heart to see the disappointment in your eyes. He wants you to understand that he’s only doing this to keep you safe, but he always feels guilty for letting you down, and the guilt haunts him even after he leaves you to vanish into the night.

👹 At some point, his constant rejection depresses you. Even if you know why he avoids sleeping with you, understand that his reasons are good, it still hurts that you can’t engage in such simple intimacy with him. Xiao hates seeing you look so down because of him, so he agrees on a compromise. He’ll stay in the bedroom with you until you fall asleep, but he won’t lie next to you. It’s the best outcome you could hope for from him, so you agree. It’s not the same as having him right next to you and feeling his warmth, but it’s better than nothing. It’s still fun to talk to him while you wait for sleep to take you, hearing his calm and soft voice resound from a dark corner of your room in response to your questions and stories is reassuring. Despite what he may think, you feel safe having Xiao nearby, and when you tell him this, all that follows is silence. His only response is that you should go to sleep, but you can tell by the lilt in his voice that he’s embarrassed. Although you can’t see his face, you’re confident that he’s blushing.

👹 Once you’re asleep, Xiao likes to take a few minutes to watch you sleep to ensure you’re fine. If you have nightmares, he uses his abilities to eat them so they won’t disturb your rest. He has bad memories of consuming the dreams of others back when he was under the enslavement of a cruel god, but after watching you struggle with your nightmares and seeing how frightened they made you, he thought that he could help you. It is with this intention that he offered to eat your nightmares, and only starts ridding you of them after he got your consent. Xiao still feels a bit uncertain about eating your nightmares, but when you thank him for helping you in this way, he feels a bit better about it. He’s only done this to hurt others in the past, so he’s glad that his ability can actually help you.

👹 On rare occasions Xiao actually does lay down beside you, though you’re never aware of it because he does it while you’re asleep. He avoids touching you so as to not accidentally wake you, which is why you remain unaware. He’s not sure what drives him to go against his own words of caution, but there are times when he wants to be close to you. Yes, he holds your hand and exchanges kisses with you (though it’s mostly you kissing him), and that is its own form of closeness, but resting next to you while you are so vulnerable brings him a sense of peace. While he lays beside you you, Xiao likes to close his eyes and listen to your slow and even breaths. He tries to imagine what a normal life with you would be like if he weren’t affected by his karmic debt, and his mind comes up with images where he can hold you close to him as you both sleep, where he can spend more time around you and your friends without worrying about hurting anyone. But for now, laying down beside you like this for a short while is enough. Xiao doesn’t dare ask for more.

👹 In the mornings, you usually won’t find any traces of Xiao. He’s gone by the time the sun rises, whether to fight demons or hide out at the Wangshu Inn, you’re not sure. Regardless, you end up eating breakfast alone unless you call on him to join you. Xiao will always appear before you without fail, and though he won’t be pleased with you for calling on him for such a simple reason, he will stay with you while you eat your breakfast. He tells you to not make this a regular thing, reminding you of the dangers of his karmic debt. Even so, he wants you to be happy, and if his presence is what makes you happy, then he’ll indulge you a little.

Kaveh

🍷 Kaveh’s sleep schedule is inconsistent. Some nights he stays up until the early morning working on draft after draft for his client until he’s satisfied with the finished product. On other nights he gets too drunk or too tired and clocks in earlier. As such, each night you never know when your boyfriend will join you in bed.

🍷 On nights when Kaveh stays up late, he seldom listens to your urging to leave his work for later and finally get some sleep. As frustrating as his stubbornness can be, Kaveh is too bound by his perfectionism and work ethic to stop. But once he’s finally finished his work and gets into bed next to your sleeping figure, nothing brings him as much comfort and peace as holding you in his arms after a grueling workday. All the stress, worry, anxiety, and frustration melt away when he feels your warmth, the softness of your skin, and breathes in your scent. Even while asleep you still manage to chase away his loneliness and sadness just with your presence, and Kaveh will forever consider himself incredibly lucky that you chose to stay by his side despite how difficult it can be.

🍷 Kaveh holds you close as he falls asleep, nuzzling his face into your hair or the crook of your neck while his mind quickly succumbs to exhaustion. He used to have nightmares on days where the memories of his childhood plagued his mind, but ever since meeting you, those nightmares became less and less frequent. Sleeping next to you brings him a sense of peace and solace that you won’t ever know about unless Kaveh outright tells you, and though he won’t say it out loud, he still tries to let you know how much you mean to him through his actions.

🍷 Staying up late usually results in Kaveh sleeping in. He could sleep through his scheduled appointments with his clients, so he’s very appreciative when you wake him up to give him time to get ready so he won’t be late. If he doesn’t have any clients to meet, then you usually have to carefully extract yourself from his arms to not wake him, and then go to prepare coffee and breakfast to share with him once he wakes up. Kaveh is used to making his own food while he lived with Alhaitham since his schedule didn’t always match up with the Scribe’s, but there is something special in waking up and walking into the kitchen to see you preparing breakfast for him. The sight fills him with warmth, affection, and gratitude that he can’t express in words, so he chooses to hug you from behind and kiss you on the cheek in greeting. He thanks you for making him breakfast too, calling you a true treasure for your acts of kindness towards him. Though his words might sound like simple flattery, if you look into his eyes, you’ll see the adoration in them and know that he truly means them from his heart. Kaveh isn’t used to being taken care of like this, but little by little you make him more open to receiving your care, and he swears he falls even more in love with you for it.

🍷 On the rare occasion when Kaveh wakes up earlier than you, he usually likes to take a few minutes to lay next to you and just admire you in the morning light. Even if your hair is all tangled and you’re drooling onto your pillow, the architect still thinks you look beautiful. He claims to have an eye for beauty and fine art, and to him, you are the epitome of beauty at this moment even if you think otherwise.

🍷 Eventually, Kaveh reluctantly separates himself from you to get started on his day while still letting you sleep. Much like you, he also prepares you breakfast and even plates it on a tray and brings it to you so you can have breakfast in bed. When you’re met with the gorgeous display of fruits and other breakfast foods arranged artfully on the tray, you are reluctant to eat it. After all, Kaveh spent a long time arranging the food to look beautiful, especially for you, and it would be a pity to destroy such a masterpiece. Your praise of his efforts feeds his ego, but he still encourages you to eat because your acknowledgment of his efforts is enough. He wants to take care of you the same way you take care of him, giving you just as much love back if not more.

Alhaitham

🎧 Alhaitham is a man of routine. He has a set time for when he goes to bed and a regular proceeding he does before going to sleep, such as spending an hour reading in bed or listening to some music. He rarely stays up late unless absolutely necessary. He doesn’t expect you to match his bedtime routine since he believes you should do whatever you need to help you prepare for bed, but he appreciates it if you take his needs into consideration. Though he’s set in his ways, Alhaitham is flexible enough to make compromises in his bedtime routine to better suit you, like taking his reading out into the living room if you complained that you couldn’t sleep with the bedside lamp on.

🎧 The Scribe is not fond of physical closeness, so he prefers that each of you stay on your respective sides of the bed and not invade the other’s personal space. He feels smothered if you cling to him throughout the night, and dislikes being in contact with you for long periods of time. Though he’s not fond of having you wrap yourself around him, Alhaitham has a much easier time being the one initiating the physical closeness. If you feel cold, he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. His body is naturally very warm, and he functions as a great heater during the colder nights. If you feel sad and crave some company or affection, then Alhaitham will indulge you by hugging you and absentmindedly stroking your hair. He won’t say much since he’s not good at using gentle words, but he hopes you are still able to find some comfort in his arms.

🎧 Another time during which Alhaitham is okay with you touching him would be when he feels affectionate. This could happen after a session of lovemaking or if he hasn’t seen you for a while due to his business trips and has missed your company. He doesn’t have many close relationships, and Alhaitham sometimes becomes aware of just how much you mean to him. You put up with his aloof and overly pragmatic self and accept him for who he is. You love him for who he is. Few people can put up with him, even his ex-roommate Kaveh frequently complained and blew a fuse because of the Scribe’s attitude, but you continue to love him despite the difficulties, and in return, he accepted you into his heart. Although he prefers to keep his personal space, sometimes even Alhaitham craves the touch of another, to feel that he belongs and is accepted by someone, and thus has moments where he enjoys feeling your head rest on his chest or shoulder with one of his arms wrapped around you. The feeling makes him feel a warm and gentle emotion he can’t quite place, but it makes it easier for him to fall asleep.

🎧 Alhaitham usually wakes up before you, especially if he has work. He’s consistent like clockwork with how he wakes up at the same time each day, and the morning routine he performs to get ready for the day ahead. If you’re still not awake by the time he makes his coffee, expect Alhaitham to unceremoniously wake you up and take a jab at you by commenting on how you overslept in the snarkiest manner possible. Though he wakes you up rather rudely, you still find a cup of tea or coffee and a light breakfast waiting for you so you won’t go hungry in your rush to get ready.

🎧 If it’s a day off, then Alhaitham likes to laze around in bed with you, especially if it’s raining outside. Something about reading in the comfort of his warm and cozy bed with you snoring softly by his side brings a sense of peace to him. Depending on how long you sleep, he might read while he waits for you to wake up or eventually get up if he knows you won’t awake for a while still.

🎧 Alhaitham is fond of taking afternoon naps when his day is uneventful, even coming home from the Akademiya so he can read and then snooze on the sofa in his living room. He keeps his headphones on to block out any external noise since it helps him fall asleep easier, warmed by the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. Though he’ll never tell you, one of his favorite things is waking up from such naps to find you sleeping next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder. The stacks of reports he planned to look through after his nap go on the back burner, for you are simply too adorable for him to disturb. So Alhaitham resumes reading his book while waiting for you to wake up from your own nap.

Wriothesley

🐺 Being the administrator of the Fortress of Meropide, Wriothesley is often busy from dawn to dusk. Signing paperwork, overseeing the prison operations, meeting with collaborators and partners, monitoring various projects, and many other things all take valuable time in his day. Despite how busy he is, Wriothesley is still full of energy when you retire with him for the night. He likes laying on his side while facing you, propping his head up on his hand while he listens to you talk about your busy day, occasionally sharing stories of his own about the drinks Sigewinne tries to convince him to drink or funny stories about his colleagues. He enjoys having these simple, lighthearted conversations with you. It’s a nice contrast from his usual talks with inmates who are intimidated by him, and formal business meetings which aren’t his cup of tea.

🐺 Wriothesley finds comfort in spending these few hours awake in bed with you. He’s used to life in the gloomy, dark depths of the waters of Fontaine, surrounded by the cold, metallic walls of the Fortress. With no windows, it’s difficult to tell what time of day it is, the only indicator being the activities of the prisoners and staff, and the clock he occasionally glances at. A life devoid of sunlight and fresh air can be bleak and depressing, and though Wriothesley is used to it, he does notice that ever since he started sleeping with you, his mood has improved compared to before. Maybe it’s conjecture or maybe he’s just that stupidly in love with you, but watching your sleeping face and feeling your warm body in his arms makes him feel that his room in the Fortress is not as gloomy and cold as it used to be, as if you brighten up the place with your presence.

🐺 While sleeping, the Duke likes to have an arm around you in some way. He prefers to scoop you up into his strong arms and hug you to sleep, but if you don’t want that then he hopes you’ll at least let him lay one arm across you. He just likes feeling you next to him, it gives his mind a sense of peace knowing you’re beside him. Unfortunately, even if you tell him you’re not in the mood to be held by him, by the time you wake up you’ll find yourself wrapped up in his body as if you were a teddy bear. Wriothesley apologizes for this, but he genuinely has no control over his body while he’s sleeping, and it somehow happens unconsciously. You’ll either have to get used to this or sleep in a separate bed.

🐺 Due to his administrator duties, Wriothesley usually wakes up earlier than you. He doesn’t have much time to bask in bed with you and admire your cute sleeping face, so he gets up fairly quickly and gets ready for his day. If you work in the Fortress as well, then you usually get up together with him even if it might be a little too early for you. This gives you a chance to spend the morning with him before both of you go about your duties. Wriothesley usually gets breakfast from the cafeteria, and you join him if you feel too lazy to cook anything. However, the Duke loves it when you cook breakfast for both of you. It can be a simple meal of toast and eggs or anything else you know how to make, but having his love cook for him gives him a sense of domesticity which is a foreign feeling in the dark and cold walls of the prison. It makes him feel as if the two of you were married, and the idea warms his heart. He contemplates genuinely asking for your hand in marriage later down the line.

🐺 While you cook breakfast, Wriothesley brews a pot of tea for you to share with your food. He’s memorized your favorite way of taking your tea and adds the right amount of sugar or cream (if you take any) before serving it to you. Breakfast is generally the most time he gets to spend with you during the day before night falls, so he treasures these little mundane moments even if he doesn’t say it aloud. He does his part by washing the dishes afterward and asking for a kiss from you before heading to work. He claims it’s his good luck charm, and who are you to refuse when he gives you that expectant look?

Diluc

🦉 Between his day jobs as the wine tycoon of Mondstadt and the owner of Angel’s Share and his night job as the Darknight Hero, Diluc is very busy and has an inconsistent sleep schedule. So much so, that you don’t always get to spend the night in his arms. He could come home after you’ve fallen asleep and then be up before you, so by the time you wake up you won’t even know he was home if it wasn’t for the clear indication that he had slept on his side of the bed. Diluc knows he shouldn’t neglect you too much, so he tries to make time to spend with you. He misses you just as much as you miss him, so rest assured he will always return to your side.

🦉 Diluc feels guilty when you stay up late waiting for him to come to bed with you. You try not to rush him because you know that whatever he is dealing with at the moment is important. If it could have been done another day, then he would have left it for later in favor of joining you and getting some rest. Still, Diluc doesn’t like making you wait for him. He tells you not to wait and go straight to bed, though he does appreciate your dedication and loyalty towards him.

🦉 Once he does finally join you, Diluc likes to wrap his arms around you and hold you close while giving you a few chaste kisses in apology for making you wait and expressing his gratitude towards you. He feels so lucky that despite how busy he is, you don’t get mad at him or leave him for not being able to give you as much affection as you want. Diluc tries to make it up to you by being extra affectionate when he does get to spend time with you and sends you a lot of gifts when he can. For now, he hopes you will let him hold you close and stroke your hair while he feels you fall asleep in his arms. Diluc’s mind is usually full of various thoughts that don’t let him fall asleep easily, but listening to your quiet and slow breaths lulls him to sleep soon after.

🦉 Despite going to sleep late, Diluc usually wakes up before you do. If he doesn’t have anywhere urgent to be, he likes to take some time to admire you since he doesn’t get to do so as often as he would like. He traces your cheek with a finger, marveling at how soft and smooth your skin is, and how it glows in the morning light. You look so beautiful, and he’s reminded once more of why he fell in love with you. He apologizes when his touch wakes you up, and his heart squeezes when your face lights up in a smile at having woken up next to him for a change. Diluc kisses your forehead in a morning greeting and smiles when you cuddle up closer to him to enjoy the warmth of his body.

🦉 Though he wishes to spend time with you, unfortunately, he must part from you all too soon. His duties await him, and as the master of the winery, he can’t afford to stay idle. He invites you to breakfast with him, and by the time the two of you make it downstairs, Adelinde already has breakfast prepared for you. The perks of living with Diluc as his lover is that you get to eat delicious meals prepared by Adelinde, the head housemaid of the manor. She dotes on you as much as she dotes on Diluc and Kaeya and prepares your favorite dishes from time to time. It honestly makes Diluc happy to see that the closest thing he has to a mother figure has accepted you so warmly into his family, though in Adelinde’s eyes, you and her master might as well be married already. If not yet, then soon because Diluc would be a fool to lose someone as caring and precious as you who waits for him long into the night. She will make sure Diluc won’t let his happiness slip past him due to his sense of responsibility.

Childe

🐋 Childe doesn’t always get to sleep together with you due to being away on long business trips as a part of his Harbinger duties. He doesn’t complain about not getting to be with his love, but he certainly does think about how much better it would be if he could have you in his arms when he goes to sleep in his hotel room at night. He misses your warmth, your smile, your voice, kissing you goodnight before falling asleep, and then good morning when he wakes up. Once he makes it back home to Snezhnaya, you better believe that he won’t let you go once night arrives. He wants to make up for all the missed time he didn’t get to spend with you and will be very affectionate by giving you abundant kisses and caressing you all over your body. He loves feeling your warm and smooth skin against his palms, making you feel all that much more real to him and not just another one of his dreams which he often gets when he’s away from you.

🐋 Another thing he missed about sleeping with you is your conversations before bed. Childe loves to ramble to you about his family, recounting all the fun stories about his younger siblings. He avoids talking about his dealings as a member of the Fatui even though you’re aware of what his Harbinger duties entail. He’d rather not talk about work when he’s with you, but about something that makes him happy. In turn, he loves it when you talk about things you like or that you found exciting while he was gone. Sure, he read your letters about these events while he was away, but he wants to hear all about it from you directly, told in your own voice. Listening to your voice relaxes him, and he sometimes falls asleep while listening to you, but don’t take it the wrong way. He’s not bored of your stories, he simply feels so at ease around you that he lets his guard down and falls asleep easily.

🐋 Despite how affectionate he is, Childe isn’t very clingy when he sleeps with you. The most he does is keep a protective arm around your waist but otherwise gives you enough freedom to not hinder you while you sleep. He instinctively prefers to have a more relaxed posture while sleeping so he can react swiftly if something were to happen, and he can’t do that if he’s all tangled up with you. That’s not to say that he will turn you down if you want to rest your head on his chest or shoulder. He’ll very much welcome it and wrap an arm around your waist and kiss the top of your head before settling in to sleep. He does like having you near, after all. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy when you snuggle up to him of your own volition, whether because you’re feeling affectionate or want to warm up from the cold Snezhnayan winters doesn’t matter, Childe will always welcome you with open arms.

🐋 Childe is an early riser. He rarely sleeps into the late morning, preferring to wake up early to train or go fishing. He doesn’t have as much free time to indulge in his hobbies, so he takes advantage of the morning to do so. He strives for self-improvement, and training or fishing are some of the best ways to help him better his fighting skills. Plus, he’s a strong believer in being productive with one’s time and doing as much work as possible in a single day instead of leaving things for tomorrow. As such, he won’t let you sleep for too long. Around 8 or 9 a.m., Childe will come to wake you, saying that you shouldn’t waste your day in bed and that he wants to spend more time with you. He even cooks you a warm breakfast and brings it to your shared room before trying to rouse you with hugs and kisses so you wouldn’t be too upset with him for waking you earlier than you might be used to. Childe wants the best for you, which is why he wants you to take control of your life and strive for self-improvement as well, and in his opinion, it starts with making the most of what your day has to offer.

Kazuha

🍁 As members of the Crux fleet, Kazuha and you spend most of your time out at sea, occasionally stopping with the crew to visit the harbors of other nations and explore the land. As such, the wandering samurai shares his cabin with you as your lover. It’s a bit cramped, but it’s not an issue since both of you spend most of your time outdoors. Kazuha goes to bed rather late because he likes to spend a few hours admiring the starry night sky and feeling the cool breeze. This time of day proves to be the quietest, and it’s perfect for him to compose some poetry or listen to the sounds of the waves and wind. He welcomes you if you want to join him in gazing at the stars or listening to his poems, but also understands if you’re too tired and want to head to bed.

🍁 Once he’s ready to go to bed himself, Kazuha will quietly join you. He’s quiet enough to not disturb you if you’re already asleep, but if you’re still awake then he takes advantage of that to wish you goodnight and kiss your cheek. Kazuha prefers to sleep while facing you. He likes having you be the last thing he sees right before he falls asleep, and be the first sight to greet him when he wakes up. He also enjoys holding one of your hands in his while he slowly drifts off. Though he can clearly hear your soft breaths in the darkness of your room, it’s still nice to have a physical reminder of you being next to him. If you’re still holding hands by the time both of you wake up, then Kazuha has a tendency to rub his thumb over the back of your hand and feel the smooth skin. It’s a small sign of his affection for you, a reminder that he loves you.

🍁 If you have trouble falling asleep, Kazuha can recite a few of his original poems for you or tell you a few Inazuman legends or fairytales in hopes that maybe his calm and soothing voice can lull you to sleep. If not, he’s willing to stay up with you to talk or take a walk around the ship’s deck and feel the night breeze. He keeps you company as long as necessary until you feel sleepy, and only goes to sleep himself once he makes sure you’re asleep first. He doesn’t want you to deal with the solitude of the night by yourself unless you explicitly state it’s what you want. Regardless, he is always willing to be there for you if you need him.

🍁 Kazuha tends to naturally wake up early. The songs of birds and sounds of the wind are enough to rouse him, though he lets you sleep if you’re not awake yet. He likes to take some time to simply admire you and chuckles if he sees you drooling in your sleep. Despite the drool dried to your chin and your mussed-up hair, he still finds you pretty. He knows that when you catch him looking just as disheveled when he wakes up, despite your giggles of amusement, he can tell that you find him equally as attractive if the loving gaze in your eyes is anything to go by. So Kazuha simply smiles and presses a tender kiss to your temple before getting up to start his day.

🍁 By the time you wake up, a few hours had passed since Kazuha got up, but he hadn’t had breakfast yet. He waits to eat together with you, considering it only natural that he should share all his meals with those he loves. He’s a firm believer that food tastes better in the company of others than while eating alone, and though he could eat together with his friends in the fleet, he doesn’t want you to eat by yourself. He uses the ship’s kitchen to whip up a simple breakfast for both of you. It’s nothing fancy, but it is nutritious and filling, perfect for helping you start your day on a full stomach. Despite your urging to not wait for you, Kazuha won’t stop doing so, and neither will he wake you up early unless necessary, so you better get used to it.

[ajbullet]

My thoughts on episode 1 and 2 of Percy Jackson and the Olympians: (spoilers)

- The ACCURACY of the little Percy casting was unbelievable. They look identical.

- The SARCASM 🫶🏻👌🏻

- I’ve never been able to connect with Sally Jackson as a mother-figure in the books just because of my own rocky relationship with my mom, but the way she’s played really made me believe in her character and her love for Percy. It gives PERCY’s character more grounding and their relationship really drives the show.

- Sally just sitting in the rain with Olivia Rodrigo playing. Mood.

- “You fell in love…with Jesus?”

- The friction and “betrayal” between Percy and Grover was super interesting to see and I’m really glad they touched on that more than in the books

- I’ve been pronouncing Brunner wrong. Dam.

- Sally saying goodbye to Percy, knowing she was probably going to die 😭. Percy screaming for her.

- the Minotaur fight was awesome

- “YOU DROOL WHEN YOU SLEEP” Omg I can’t believe she said it. Leah’s delivery was different than how I imagined it but I loved it. She’s so matter-of-fact

- Again, I’ve always struggled with connecting with Luke’s character just because I felt like he was a little two-dimensional in the first book and then after that, you know, he’s evil and while I understood his motivations, I just didn’t really…care? Idk but his portrayal really helped me understand the depth of his betrayal and just how heartbreaking his story really is. I already love him more than I’ve allowed myself to from the books

- “She’s my little sister” I love their relationship while it lasts. Seeing how close they are really adds to the layers of both of their characters

- I’ve also been pronouncing Thalia wrong. Double dam.

- THE BLUE CANDY. PERCY BURNING IT NOT TO TALK TO HIS DAD BUT HIS MOM. That scene broke my heart.

- Leah. As. Annabeth. I’m going to be completely honest, Ive loved Leah from everything I’ve seen about her but I was nervous just because of how precious of a character Annabeth Chase has always been to me and I didn’t know if ANYONE, not specifically Leah, could live up to those expectations but omg I love her. Her bluntness. Her facial expressions. Her voice and delivery. Her sure movements and confidence and self-assuredbess that has come from success after success and training for so long. The way she is so unashamed to admit to using Percy and only watching him to see what he could do for HER. In her short amount of screen time so far, Leah was able to add layers to this character I’ve loved for so long that I didn’t even know where there. I never wanted her to leave the screen. My only complaint is that she didn’t have more lines. She is my Annabeth Chase. She’s not from the books. She’s not from the movies. She’s her own version and she stole the show.

- Luke saying Annabeth has a plan and that Percy will know what to do, only for PERCY TO BE FLOSSING AND PEEING AND PETTING GECKOS and trying so hard not to drive himself crazy with his ADHD and having nothing to do. I genuinely laughed out loud. Might be my favorite part.

- the fight scenes are so well choreographed.

- CLARISSE. She’s too pretty. I can’t hate her. And her ELECTRIC SPEAR. When it broke and she screamed, I got chills.

- The trident.

- Annabeth KNOWING Percy was Poseidon’s before anyone else cause she’s “always 6 steps ahead”

- People already keeping such important info from Percy “for his own good”

- “You are Poseidon’s son” “No, I am Sally Jackson’s son!” Might just be my favorite line. It’s so true. She raised him. She sacrificed everything for him. She loved him and cared for him and taught him that he wasn’t broken, he was singular, a miracle. She died so that he could live.

- Sally Jackson is parenting goals

- The way Percy instantly changed his decision to go to the underworld as soon as Grover told him his mom could be saved. Their relationship is unmatched

- Walker Scobell is already pretty well known, but I have a really good feeling his popularity is going to skyrocket after this show. He is such an amazing, dedicated actor. I know exactly what he is felling 100% of the time.

Overall, I absolutely loved it. In two episodes it’s become a comfort show that I can’t wait to continue watching!!

[roboenthuser]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request some fluffy relationship headcanons of Billy Kid with a shy GN reader please?

YEAHH! I gotcha anon, thanks for the request🫂

(ZZZ) Billy kid x shy GN! Reader

‼️This is going purely off the few character trailers and gameplay clips there are for Billy so I may not get everything right!‼️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Billy would love to show off to a shy s/o any chance he gets! He thinks it makes him look cooler to you (he ends up forgetting to reload and jumps into fights without ammo, or misses all his shots because he’s too busy looking at you LMAO)

•LOVES to show you off (much to your dismay) in more of a “Look at my s/o! Aren’t they so pretty/handsome!” Way. Definitely tries to build up your confidence a bit but he won’t force it

•Date nights with him would probably consist mostly of cuddling up on the couch/bed, binging shows (mostly starlight knight) at each others homes or going to eat in a secluded part of the city.

•Billy is DEFINITELY going to struggle picking up on behavioral cues from you, he may not be able to tell straight away when something’s wrong so communication is extremely important for him! You’d have to speak up about any issues you have with him or he’s gonna be clueless until it hits him in the face.

•As for physical affection, he LOVES holding you/having some sort of physical contact with you most of the time. Whether it’s a hug, hand holding, cuddling, as long as he’s close to you he’s content. He’s a bit down about his lack of lips in a relationship which means he can’t really kiss you, but alternatively he’ll (gently) touch the lower part of his faceplate/visor to your skin in his own little form of kissing<3

•If you’re not comfortable with PDA that’s okay!!! He respects that, but every once in a while he’ll lightly brush his hand against yours when no one’s looking

•THE TEASING!! He will tease you a bit for your shyness (playfully ofc) if he ever goes too far with his teasing he’s quick to apologize and bring you your favorite snacks/drink :)

•Most likely introduces you to Nicole and Anby, although he probably doesn’t want you too involved in his line of work he would like it if his two best friends met his s/o, he’d be especially happy if you ended up befriending them!

•If you ask nicely he’ll let you borrow his jacket, only for a little while though 💔

•I feel like nicknames would be a big thing for him too, Both for you and himself! His names for you would be cutie, handsome/beautiful, sweetheart, and baby, whereas for himself he would refer to himself as your “Starlight knight”

•Tries to be a gentleman (fails)

Pulling your chair out for you? Whoops he pulled it too far and you fell on the floor.

Need help carrying something? He fumbles and drops it.

He tries!! Doesn’t always succeed but he definitely tries his best!

•Overall a great partner with a shy s/o, he’s definitely not perfect but he’ll learn! You’ll have to help him out but he gets the hang of how to adapt to your shyness eventually❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

RAHH!! Hope that was alright for a first HC post, once again thanks for the request anon! Reminder to everyone my request listing and rules are still open, I’ll try to get to everyone’s requests asap! Hope everyone has a lovely day/night!🫶

[buddiebeginz]

I know not everything the actors say in interviews is accurate but I’m pretty sure in the beginning of the season Oliver talked about how Buck was going to have to work for his next relationship. He talked very deliberately about how Buck has always had relationships come easy. In that he’ll like someone and then end up with them without having to really fight for them. He said Buck's next relationship was going to be different, yet things with T*mmy feel exactly the same as how it’s felt with most of the women Buck's been with. Where the relationship comes easy and it’s mostly based on sex and the person doesn’t really know who Buck is at his core.

I can’t help but wonder if Tim told Oliver that he was planning on making Buddie happen this season or at least moving them closer to happening and it got pushed into s8. In the beginning of this season we had a lot of joint Ryan and Oliver interviews more so than in previous years. Oliver also did a lot of posting/liking about Buddie and Ryan on insta. He also talked about Buddie in all his interviews more than in previous seasons. Given how Oliver has said multiple times in the past that he didn't want to lead people on about Buddie I can't help but feel like he thought things were going to play out differently.

If you watch the beginning of s7 it feels like we’re heading towards something important happening with Buddie. We had a lot of Buddie scenes including the locker room scene, the scene where Buddie talk about underlying sexual tension, the scene where Buck is showing how much he's like Chris' other dad, Buddie working together on multiple calls including rescuing Bobby together. Then of course there was 704 which was like a flashing neon sign saying Buck has feelings for Eddie and is scared Eddie is going to replace him.

Then in 705 it was Eddie who interrupts Buck's first date with a guy. It's Eddie that is the focus of the conversation where Buck comes out to Maddie, where she tells him that if he has something he needs to tell Eddie he will in his own time. Then we get a very intimate scene where Buck comes out to Eddie, including a lot of shared looks between them and a hug. Also of note that Buck only had two coming out scenes in the whole season and Eddie was chosen to be one of them. There was also the gym scene where they talked about Eddie's sex life.

To me it feels like Tim changed course around 706 when he cut a lot of Buddie stuff from the ep especially the karaoke scene. I know a lot of things were likely cut for time but still they shot a scene of Buddie being all touchy feely singing a karaoke love song for the Madney wedding ep. Karaoke was one of the first things Madney did when they were falling for one another it was too much of a parallel for it not to mean something.

I think 706 was really supposed to be a bigger Buddie episode than it turned out to be. This may also be why so much of the promo stuff was about Buddie. I think originally this was going to be the episode to start officially letting the audience know there was something there between them. You can also see parts of the original story where they had Buddie joined at the hip after the bachelor party (helping Maddie and looking for Chim) everything came off very coupley.

This may also explain why Abuela is at the wedding and Marisol isn't (more about Marisol later). I wonder if originally we were going to get some kind of scene with Abuela and Eddie where she says something about Buck. There's no way they brought her in to just stand in the background like an extra there had to have been a purpose for her character originally.

I think Tim changed course when he decided he wanted to do the Kim/Shannon Vertigo mess. Which I don’t get why someone didn’t step in and tell him how ridiculous this idea was especially in this short of a season. I feel like Tim wanted to do something artsy and also get Devin Kelley back on the show and this was how he chose to do that. Unfortunately though the story turned into a mess and worse I feel like parts of Eddie's emotional journey that deserved more focus were lost. Like even the general audience didn't know what to make of that scene where Kim was dressed up as Shannon.

The Vertigo story might also be a part of why there were rumours that Edy had finished filming prior to this storyline starting in 707. Maybe she thought she had but was brought back in for this storyline. Who knows? This season was basically being written almost as they were filming it and I'm pretty sure Tim was changing things left and right. You can see that more in some episodes vs others and definitely more the later the season goes on.

I also think that would explain why so little thought and time was put into both Eddie's relationship with Marisol and Buck's thing with T*mmy. I don't think either relationship was supposed to last the entire season. There was talk early on in s7 that Lou was only supposed to be around for something like four episodes definitely a short run. In interviews Oliver also made it seem like B/T wasn't going to last and that T*mmy eventually was going to be more of a mentor type figure for Buck.

Lou also used the word rom-com when referring to B/T. Although take that with a grain of salt because it may have been on one of his cameos and he said all kinds of stuff on there. But you can see rom-com love triangle type stuff being set up in 704/705/706 between Buck, Eddie, and T*mmy and then T*mmy just kind of disappears (until 709) and the Kim/Shannon thing happens.

This would explain why there is so little development in s7 for T*mmy and B/T's relationship to the point that they never even defined that relationship by the end of the season. They never even had Buck call him his boyfriend. Which I'm glad for that in a way but it just goes to show how bad the writing was this season. And as much as I want Buddie and as much as I dislike Lou and T*mmy I'm also really sad for Oliver because this is not the coming out storyline Buck deserved.

In 707 there was zero mention of T*mmy and this is also when the Kim/Shannon storyline started so I think this is when we see some significant changes to the storyline from wherever things were originally set to go. Though the scene with Buddie and Chris I think some of that was from whatever had been originally planned. It's too flirty to explain otherwise. Maybe originally it was going to be something where Eddie and Chris spend time at Buck's loft but because there was the Kim storyline they wrote it with Eddie leaving for the date.

The thing is Buck's feelings for Eddie throughout this whole season have been louder and more apparent than we've ever seen them be before. Oliver is clearly playing Buck as in love with Eddie. Go back and watch the scene in 704 where Eddie talks about clicking with T*mmy and see how Buck looks like his heart has broken into a million pieces. Or the way Buck watches Eddie in the coming out scene in 705. Or Buck's face in 709 after he said he was worried about Eddie. It's just so obvious that man loves Eddie and would do anything for him.

This is why I really thought there was a good probability of us getting an oh moment feelings realization from Buck in the finale or at the very least a moment where they hugged and consoled each other over losing their son. But we didn't even get that.

I'm honestly not surprised that Oliver went quiet on social media during the back half of s7. Throughout the whole season Oliver wasn't really showing support for B/T and he talked very little about the ship in his interviews. I think this was originally because the plan was for B/T only to be a short term thing and Oliver didn't want to lead anyone on about that ship. I also personally think Oliver has wanted to see Buddie happen for years so he's not going to be rooting for another ship.

I also get the vibe Oliver's not crazy about working with Lou. Anytime you see behind the scenes video and pics of the cast Lou isn't in them or if he is no one is interacting with him. You can also see in the one interview Oliver did with Lou that the chemistry between them just isn't there. They feel more like coworkers just doing their job vs how Ryan and Oliver always appear like giggling besties in every interview and behind the scenes thing we see them in.

Like others have said I'm just sad for Oliver. I think once Tim told Oliver about them wanting to do the bi Buck storyline he must have been so excited. He's talked in interviews about how he's always seen Buck as bi so he must have been thrilled when they said they were finally taking his character there. And for all the issues this season Buck's coming out is still an incredibly important storyline and has meant a lot to so many people. Oliver has even talked about all the people that have messaged him and how deeply they've been affected by a character like Buck coming out.

Still I'm sure Oliver wants more for Buck's love life than the lackluster relationship that he's been stuck with. You can tell in how he talks about Buddie that he wants to see that relationship happen and that he wants to make sure it's done right and doesn't play into stereotypes.

I just hate that T*mmy is the first guy they've stuck Buck with. I hate that Tim and the show have done nothing with this relationship. We don't even really know by the end of s7 how Buck feels about T*mmy or how he feels having been dating a guy for months. Some of that should have been revisited maybe with a talk between Buck and Maddie. But it's like others have said they made Buck bi and then just kind of forgot about him. I think though that's because like I said Tim pushed everything to the side to focus on the Vertigo plot and also all the stuff with Bobby to the detriment of everything else. Buddie was the original plan and Tim didn't really have much else for Buck to do so they left him in this nothing relationship.

I really hope s8 is better all around not just for Buddie but for Buck and Eddie as characters. I hope that Tim plans to follow through and actually make Buddie a reality not just because so many people ship them because of how important for queer representation a ship like Buddie becoming canon could be. I also want to see Oliver actually get to play Buck in a relationship he's proud to talk about.

[tkwrites]

It Doesn't Matter Part I - Nico Hischier x ofc

Gif from offside-the-lines

Title: It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

Part I | Part II | Part III | Playlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Beginning: Nico Hischier x Original female character 

Summary: Nico and Lena have been friends ever since he played in Halifax. When an opportunity of a lifetime brings Lena to New York, Nico offers up his apartment as her home base despite the fact that he’s been painfully, desperately in love with her for the last six years.

Warnings: Slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, talks of masturbation, but nothing is described, Cliff hanger ending (I’m sorry, I had to!)

Word count: 7,300

Anonymous asked: I saw that you rebloged the Nico fic so I have to ask would you ever be open to write for him?, because the combination of your perfect writing and that sweet man, I would die for sure 😂

Comments: A thousand thanks to 🥭 Anon for requesting this fic! Nico has been such a fun, sweet character to write. I’m sorry for the cliffhanger ending, but I envisioned this fic in 3 parts, and this one had to end here. I hope you enjoy it! 

If you liked this, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

It Doesn’t Matter - Part I

“You coming to the bar tonight?” Jesper asked. 

“I can’t, I’m helping Lena move in.” 

“Wait,” Jack said, barging his way into their conversation as per usual, “Lena, Lena? Like Lena from Halifax who you’ve been in love with since you were seventeen?” 

Nico felt a blush flood his cheeks as he nodded. 

“Moving in?”

“She’s coming to New York for an art program this year, so I told her she could stay with me.” 

Jack stared at him, one of his eyebrows cocked up. “You’re sure that’s a good idea?” 

Nico shook his head. 

“No it’s not a good idea, or no you’re not sure?” 

He shrugged. Hell if he knew. He was thrilled to have her close by but knew it would likely be torturous at the same time. 

“Who is Lena?”

“She’s this girl he met when he was playing for the Mooseheads,” Jack explained. “You haven’t heard about her? He never shuts up about her.” 

Blushing, Nico tossed an elbow pad in Jack’s direction. 

“Did you stay with her family or something?” 

“No,” Nico said. “She was friends with our goalie.”

“They’ve been besties ever since, and Nico still hasn’t grown the balls to ask her out.” 

Nico glared at him. 

“What?” Jack asked, shrugging. “You haven’t.”

“It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about it? You like her. She’s single. You’re single. What’s the problem?” 

“I don’t…” he broke off. 

Keeping Lena as a friend was more important than the possibility of him spilling his feelings and risking losing her. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure she’d respond the way he wanted, and he was pretty certain he wouldn’t survive it if she turned him down. 

“So, in the meantime, you’re just breaking up with every girl you’ve dated and overlooking every other woman because they don’t measure up, but you won’t ask her out, so you’re just pining full time.” 

It was stunning, really, how he could talk so accurately about other peoples relationships without seeing the flaws in his own. Nico knew from experience not to bring Madeline up. In situations of talking about failure in relationships, Jack could dish all day long, but he could never quite take it if it was served back at him. 

“Betty at 2:00,” Jack murmured. Watching a petite woman with light hair enter the bar. She had a pretty, heart shaped face and big, expressive eyes.

She turned around, laughing at whoever was following her. Despite the fact that he couldn’t hear her, Jack knew her laugh was the kind that made other people want to laugh along.

Instead of the friend he expected, Nico stepped into the bar after her, looking a little punch drunk. 

Jack nearly choked on his beer.

Well, shit. 

If Lena was as funny and sweet as Nico made her out to be, Jack didn’t think he’d be able to move on from her either. 

She said something to Nico, and he tore his gaze from her to look around the bar. Their eyes met, and he raised a hand in greeting. Jack waved back. 

As they made their way closer, Jack realized her hair was actually light pink. And she had a nose ring: a delicate, jeweled thing hanging from her septum. Instead of calling up a resemblance to a hooked bull, like he usually thought those piercings looked, it made her face more lovely and interesting. The dainty diamond rested in the curve of her cupid's bow, emphasizing the shape of her top lip.

Lena felt herself smile upon walking up to the group of hockey players and their partners. She’d grown up with boys like this, and walking up to them was a bit like walking into her childhood. 

“It’s Jack, right?” Lena asked. She’d seen photos of him from Nico and recognized him right away, along with Jesper, who was sitting on his other side.

“In the flesh. You must be Lena,” Jack said, standing up. He shot her a flirtatious, charming smile.

She couldn’t quite hide her eye roll, “he’s just as cheesy as you said,” she whispered to Nico, who was still standing off to her left. 

Shoulders shaking with laughter, Nico pulled out a chair for her before settling into the one beside it.

God, even in this awful club lighting, she looked beautiful. The finer parts of her face were dulled in the dim, but everything he could see made him long for her. 

Maybe Jack was right. Maybe this was a terrible idea.   

“So, Lena,” Jesper said, leaning back in his chair, “what brings you to the city?” 

“I got accepted into an intensive year-long art program at the New York Institute of Art. I’ve been applying for years, and they finally accepted me.” 

“What kind of art do you do?” Dawson asked. 

He’d wandered to the table as soon as they sat down, and Nico was talking himself down from moving to sit between them. Dawson wouldn’t stop looking at Lena like she’d just fallen from the moon, and he wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed. 

“I paint, but I do a lot of charcoal drawings and pastels, too.” 

“Like the colors?” 

She was used to this question and laughed indulgently at the confused expression on his face. “No, pastels are just pigment with a binder. It’s kind of like paint, but they’re not liquid.” 

“She does amazing stuff,” Nico cut in, knowing she wouldn’t brag about her own work. He was happy to do it for her. “She did all the art in my apartment.” 

The first time Lena had visited him, she was aghast at how little was on his walls. It made his whole house look like a hospital - too sterile and characterless. No wonder he was depressed when he wasn’t playing. His home looked like a place made for leaving. 

So she’d painted for him. Ten canvases in total. Most were landscapes, but there was also a small abstract he always suspected was a kind of self portrait and a strange, dark, modern piece - swirls of color chasing each other across the canvas. When he asked about that one, she’d told him his games inspired it - blurs of black and red darting around the ice. 

She’d even done a large landscape of the view from his childhood window, based on a photo he’d sent her several summers before. Rows and rows of misty roofs tucked into the base of the Alps as the mountains loomed over the town. Somehow, she managed to capture the safe, cocooned feeling of home.

Every time he looked at the painting where it hung, taking up nearly the whole wall opposite his bed, it eased some of his homesickness during the long seasons in New Jersey.  

For months, a package he didn’t order would show up at his door, and he’d open it to reveal yet another piece of her to keep with him. 

When the Naters painting arrived, he’d called her practically in tears. She told him she knew he missed home and hoped it would bring a little bit of home to Jersey. 

He forced her to accept repayment for shipping such a large canvas and made her promise to let him pay if she was sending any more. Instead, she’d brought an additional four with her on her next visit.

Dawson looked even more enamored as he said, “that stuff is really good!” 

Nico couldn’t remember Dawson taking any particular interest in the art when he’d been at his house before. Jack had noticed it, which had spurred the conversation about Lena in the first place. 

She offered him a thankful smile that Nico was pleased to see, was void of any flirtation. 

They had a drink a piece before she began to yawn. Nico wasn’t surprised. She’d driven from Halifax to Maine the day before and then from Maine to New Jersey that morning. He’d helped her unload her things before she insisted they come to the kickoff party. 

“I’m really sorry,” she apologized, covering her mouth. 

“You’ve had a long day,” Dawson said, encouraging, “you should go get some sleep.” 

She smiled indulgently at him before standing from the table. She really was exhausted. Plus alcohol always made her sleepy. 

When they got home, Lena asked, “Do you mind if I let cookie out?” 

He shook his head, going to the kitchen to get some water. 

A few minutes later, her light orange tabby cat came skulking into the kitchen, eyeing everything suspiciously. When they made eye contact, Cookie narrowed his eyes as he stalked over. 

After sniffing his socks, he seemed to decide he was the same person he’d always been and rubbed his face on Nicos leg. 

Walking into the kitchen, Lena heard Nico murmuring in German. As always, it made her stomach twist a little. She’d known him for six years, and it wasn’t that she forgot he was from Switzerland so much as she forgot how sexy his voice sounded speaking the language he’d grown up with. Even with her limited understanding of German, she got the distinct impression he sounded more like himself than when he spoke English. 

Rounding the kitchen island, she expected to find him crouched down, talking to one of his siblings on the phone while digging something out of a low drawer. Instead, his phone was nowhere to be found, and he was speaking to Cookie, who had flopped onto his side, happy to be receiving pets. 

“Oh,” she said before she could stop herself. The sight of Nico loving on her cat made her heart thunk into her ribs.

This, right here, is why she originally told him she was staying in the city. 

He had insisted there was no reason she needed to spend the money when he was right across the river. When she’d hesitated, he played his ace, bribing her with Cookie. “You can bring him, and both of you can stay,” he’d said, “you wouldn’t have to leave him with your parents.” 

Even though she knew it would suck to be around him all the time, knowing he didn’t have any interest in her, she’d caved right away.

The problem with Nico was that he was just so damn sweet. He did everything from the bottom of his heart and was genuinely happy to help. As soon as she managed to convince herself she didn’t love him, he would go and do something like insist she stay with him not only for finances, but because she wouldn’t have to leave her cat behind, and feeling would swoop into her heart again.

This was her last undoing for the night. Not only had she watched him carry her things into his apartment, his hockey-hardened body taking the brunt of the weight with ease, she’d had to listen to him laugh and tease while he flashed his dimples at her all day. And now, he was sweet talking her cat in German.

God, how was she going to survive this? 

Nico’s eyes darted up at her noise. He hadn’t heard her come in.  She’d pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head, but a few of the shorter pieces had escaped, falling around her face. 

Throughout the time he’d known her, her hair had been many different colors. When they met, it had been blonde, then ginger, then purple, then blue. She dyed it back to her natural ashy blonde for a while before going to this pastel pink she’d been maintaining for the last two years. When he asked her why she’d kept it for so long, she said, “I don’t know, it just looks like me.” 

He had to agree. It looked incredible on her, making her skin warm and her hazel eyes bright. 

Wanting yawned in his stomach, and he tore his eyes away before she could see the lovesick expression Jack teased was written all over his face whenever he looked at her. 

“I’m glad to see he’s making himself at home,” Lena said, laughing. 

“He’s sweet,” Nico said, standing. “I thought you’d be in bed.” 

“I wanted to say thanks again,” she said, stepping forward to hug him. 

As his arms wound around her waist, Nico allowed himself a moment of fantasy, imagining she wouldn’t be going to her own room when they turned in for the night. He couldn’t stop his mind from continuing down the fantastical road that living together might be the thing that finally got them from friends over the hill to lovers. 

“I’m happy to have you here,” he said when the fantasy had run its course, and he came back to reality. 

Cookie meowed as if upset at being left out. 

She broke away with a laugh and bent to gather him into her arms. 

“Thank you again,” she said, leaning in to brush a kiss over his cheek.

Nico felt himself go still as stone. He couldn’t remember if she’d ever done that before. 

“G’night.”

“Gute nacht,” he responded, barely holding himself back from waving as his mind was still caught on trying to process the fact that she’d actually kissed him. On the cheek, but still, her lips had been soft and warm, especially against the hard contrast of her nose ring.

He watched her disappear down the hall before he smacked a hand to his forehead. “Gute nacht,” he mocked himself. “You couldn’t think of anything better to say?” 

He was a fool for thinking this was going to work. 

The next thing he had never expected when he invited her to move in came the following morning. 

Lena hadn’t stayed with Nico in his new place before. She couldn’t have. He upgraded to renting the three bedroom apartment in their building when it was finally settled that she would be living with him. That way, he still had a spare room for when family or friends came in town.

The day previous, she’d picked the room closer to his. Had he known — had he thought about it, he would have suggested she take the other one. He could have made up some bullshit excuse about how he didn’t want his snoring to keep her up at night. 

Had he been thinking clearly, he would have noticed that her ensuite bathroom shared a wall with his bedroom. The very wall his headboard sat against. 

As it was now, Lena, always the early riser, was in the shower. Right on the other side of the wall. 

Waking up to the water drumming into the tile, it took him a moment to place the sound. Only when it shifted, quieting and changing rhythm did he realize what was happening - she’d stepped under the water. 

With a sudden jolt, Nico realized that his headboard, some paint, sheetrock, a jumble of studs, and a few dozen white subway tiles were the only things separating him from her naked form. 

The idea of it assaulted his senses until he was half hard and couldn’t think of anything else. 

Cursing, he pulled a pillow over his face and groaned loudly. He couldn’t ask her to move now. He would have to explain why, and he wouldn’t be caught dead telling her he needed her to move because he couldn’t get the image of her naked, water trailing off her hair, dripping onto her breasts and pooling around her feet, out of his mind. 

He groaned into his pillowcase again. 

This went on for a few more minutes before the water changed again, increasing in pressure and beating a staccato rhythm against the tile. A second later, he heard the water shift and change again as well as a gentle thud, as if she’d fallen against the wall. 

Knowing exactly what that meant, he vaulted out of bed, rushing to his own bathroom. He would not jack off to the sound of her in the shower. That was a step too far, but if he let his imagination run, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.  He’d thought of her many, many times while getting himself off over the years, but doing it while she was in his house, very likely getting herself off, felt like a step too far. 

Cold water shocked him back into his senses, and he didn’t let himself think about it anymore. 

Lena stepped out of the shower, feeling much better. Not only did she feel more rested, she was finally able to release some of the sexual frustration that had settled on her like a heavy blanket since arriving. She would have done it the night before, but showering was always part of her morning routine, and in the rush of moving and getting to the bar to meet Nicos team mates, she hadn’t fully unpacked, and couldn’t find her vibrator. She’d tried with her fingers, but it just didn’t work the same way. When she finally fell asleep, she was still feeling frustrated and needy. 

After dressing and putting some dry shampoo in her hair, she walked into the kitchen only to find Nico scooping freshly ground coffee beans into the coffee maker, wearing nothing more than a towel. His hair was still wet, and she watched a rivulet of water wind its way down his back, all the way to the dimples at the base of his spine. Wanting sparked to life between her thighs again. So much for easing the sexual frustration. 

“Morning,” she made herself say, refusing to be the creepy one watching him shirtless, core throbbing at the thought of him. 

Nico jumped, and his hand snagged the towel around his waist before it fell. He thought he had more time. He wouldn’t have come out here in only a towel if he thought she would be out soon. He just wanted to have coffee made for her. 

“I thought you were still in the shower,” he said by way of explanation. 

“How did you know I was in the shower?” 

“It’s right on the other side of my bedroom wall,” he informed her, trying to keep the guilt out of his voice. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckety fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Oh,” she said, hoping beyond hope the sound of the water had drowned out the accidental, desperate way she’d moaned his name when her climax finally hit. 

She had to find her vibrator. Maybe she’d pick one up in the city, just in case. She couldn’t be getting herself off in the shower anymore. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Knowing he was on the other side of the wall would shrivel her sex drive like a dried out bean pod. There was no way she could get off to thinking about him, knowing he might be able to hear her, and then she would just be even more frustrated. It didn’t matter if she might find her vibrator unpacking later that day, she decided, she was getting one in the city. Better safe than sorry.

Pushing that idea away to think about later, she accepted the mug of coffee he held out to her. 

“Oat milk, right?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from her showers proximity to his bed. “I found this pistachio kind I thought you might like,” he said, rifling in the fridge with one hand, the other still clasping his towel. He needed to pull it tighter but couldn’t with her in the room. At least the cool air was calming his flushed cheeks.

And just like that, the sweetness that was Nico Hischier burrowed its way into her heart again, easing some of the lust back into love. It was incredible how being seen made her feel. Not only with eyes but with words and actions to follow them up. 

No wonder every man she’d dated in the last six years paled in comparison. Nico set an impossible standard for other men to meet. 

And that wasn’t even taking into account the fact that he had the body of a god and the most empathetic, earnest brown eyes she’d ever seen. 

They never even stood a chance.

He found the creamer he’d picked up the last time he was at the grocery. Lena loved all things pistachio, and when he’d seen the non-dairy creamer, he’d automatically put it in his basket for her to try once she got here.

When he turned to her, he had to push away thoughts of kissing her that often came up when he saw her smile the way she was now.

Setting the creamer down, he mumbled, “I’ll be right back,” before practically running to his bedroom. He threw on some shorts and a T-shirt. Coming back in, he found her sitting at the table, looking at her phone as she lifted the coffee mug to her lips. 

“What are you up to today?” 

“I’m going into the city. Find the best subway route to the academy, find my classes, that kind of thing.” Her courses didn’t start for another few days, but Lena knew she would feel better having explored first. 

“If you can wait till I’m done with practice, I can come with you,” he offered. 

Even as he kept his expression neutral, she could hear the undertone of unease in his voice. 

“Nico, I’m going to be going out there by myself every day.”

“But you don’t have to do it alone the first time.”

It wasn’t like he knew the way any better. Lena knew for a fact that he didn’t take to wandering around the city for fun, and if he did, he drove in or took an Uber. Plus, she wouldn’t be able to get her vibrator if he came with her. She didn’t like thinking about the pity she’d find in his face at her inability to find a man to fulfill those needs for her.

“It’s not the first time. I’ve lived in the city before.” 

“For three months when you were twenty,” he reminded. 

“Exactly. It’s not my first rodeo.” 

He never understood that expression. He’d seen a rodeo, and it didn’t seem like the kind of thing someone could grasp after doing it once. It was just another American idiom that always went over his head.

“Nico, I’ll be fine,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I have you on speed dial if I get stuck somewhere, okay?” 

Biting his lip, he tamped down the overprotectiveness rearing up inside him. Lena was smart. She didn’t get herself into trouble. But she was also so pretty, and some men were dogs. 

The look on her face, defiant and determined told him exactly how this was going to end. 

“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “But you’ll call me if you get lost?”

“Yes. I’ll call you if anything comes up.” 

Nico threw himself into practice. Hockey always managed to clear his mind when he was stressed. Even the sound of it - skates scraping the ice, pucks thwacking into sticks and the simpleness of communication - made everything else slip into focus. He didn’t have to worry about being an idiot or saying the wrong thing. He demanded the puck when he needed it and tried to get it into the net. 

Practice was a reprieve from the stress of life. Of all life, all the time. But especially then with Lena in his house. He could skate her out of his mind and focus on simpler things. 

Jonas came up to his stall as he was getting out of his gear. 

“Can I still come get my box?” 

It took a moment for Nico to remember. He’d had left his gaming console at his house a few days ago. “Yeah.” 

When they walked into the house, he found Cookie, right at home, stretched out over the back of the sofa in a sunbeam. 

“Since when do you have a cat? I didn’t think you liked cats.” Jonas asked. 

“He’s Lenas,” Nico corrected. Jonas raised an eyebrow, which Nico chose to ignore. “And I don’t dislike cats. Cookie is sweet.”

“Cookie?” he repeated. “She named her cat Cookie?” 

“Apparently she had a stuffed animal that looked like him named Cookie when she was little,” he explained with a shrug, trailing a hand over the cats silky fur. 

Cookie trilled at him and arched his back for more pets.

The door opened behind them, and Lena herself walked into the apartment, flushed from her walk from the station in the cool autumn air.

Nico tore his eyes away from her before Jonas could give him another raised eyebrow at the look he knew was all over his face.

“Hey, Lena,” Jonas greeted. 

“Hey Jonas,” she said with a big smile, giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you.” 

They’d met in Switzerland a few months before when Lena had come after a trip to Italy with some friends. Her friends had gone home, and she’d caught a train to Bern to spend a few days with him before she had to get back to Canada. It was then that he’d learned about her acceptance into the academy and suggested she should stay with him. 

After she went out and about with Nina, and he finished with training, they had all gone out for dinner and drinks at his favorite place, Tramdepot. Jonas’s girlfriend, Nola, was out of town, and had Nico not known she existed and that Jonas was head over heels for her, he would have been sorely tempted to end the night early so he and Lena would have to stop talking. 

“You can’t be jealous if you’re never going to ask her out,” Nina had admonished him on the way home.

Knowing Lena didn’t speak German allowed him to be open and honest with his sister, even as Lena walked in front of them. 

“She doesn’t date hockey players.” 

Nina gave him a wry look, “she told you that?” 

“No, she told her friend, Jessica. I overheard them.” 

“What exactly did she say?” Nina asked.

“She said, ‘I don’t date hockey players.’ And then Jessica asked, ‘what about Nico?’” 

“And she said?” Nina prompted.

“She said it doesn’t matter.” 

“I think you should still talk to her.” 

“She said it doesn’t matter, Nina,” he said, and there had been an embarrassing amount of whining pain in his voice. 

Nina bit her lip, glancing at Lena, who was walking next to Jonas, asking something about the architecture. 

“I can’t —” his voice had almost broken, “I can’t.” He couldn’t even get the words out. 

He was in love with Lena. He knew that. And it was wonderful and painful and awful all at the same time. But the thought of asking her and having her say no - the thought of asking her and it changing their friendship forever? That was worse than the bitter, lovely pain of being in unrequited love. The idea of losing her was worse than knowing he would never have her in that way. 

“Well, I should get going,” Jonas said, gesturing with the playstation and bringing Nico back to the present.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around,” Lena said, offering him another hug.

After Jonas left, Nico followed her to her room, leaning in the doorway. There were still boxes around, and he noticed a pile of clothes on the floor that she'd obviously pulled out of a box in search of her outfit for the day. He willed his eyes to skip over something lacy and green.

“How was it?” 

“Fine,” she said, setting her tote bag carefully on the bed, making sure it wouldn’t tip over. On top of the vibrator, she’d bought lingerie. Not that she had anyone to wear it for. But the pink set had been on display and matched her hair. She’d asked to try it on on a whim and found she couldn’t leave it behind. Even if it was just for herself, the lace and mesh balconette bra and matching panties made her feel pretty and sexy. So what if no one else ever saw them? She’d know they were there, and that was enough. 

All the same, she didn’t want Nico to see it. The thought of him knowing she’d bought lingerie when he knew she didn’t have anyone to show it off for made heat race to the surface of her skin.  

When it wouldn’t stay upright, she tipped the bag gently, resting it against her pillows so nothing would spill out. 

“Just fine?” he asked, worry edging into his tone. 

“It was good,” she said, turning around. “I found everything fine. I only went three stops in the wrong direction once. My advisor seems nice, and all my classes are right in the academy, so I won’t get lost.” Walking from the room, she changed the subject, “how was practice?” 

“Good,” he dragged a hand down his face, “I think we’re finally starting to gel as a team.” 

“That’s great, Nico.” 

“I hope it comes together before we head to Carolina.” 

“I’m sure it will. If you’re already seeing that now, it’ll only get better in a week, right?” 

He smiled, glad to have her sweet reassurance around. Though she never played hockey - “You would not want to see me on skates. I’m the most uncoordinated disaster of a baby gazelle you’ve ever seen.” - she’d grown up with siblings and friends who play and had a thorough understanding of the game and what it took to win. 

That first month living with her was an awkward dance. When his first road trip came around, it was a relief to get away. He could finally breathe easy, not worried about turning any corner to find her being unassumingly lovely in some new area of the apartment.

But by the second night away, he found himself missing her and missing their evening routine of sipping tea while watching TV. She never complained when he pulled up one of his brothers games or something else Swiss as long as the subtitles were on, and he’d gotten way too sucked in to the ridiculous reality TV show she loved about couples living in a villa together, searching for love. 

That second night, when missing her had settled into his chest in a way he hadn’t yet experienced, he almost turned it on for he and Jonas to watch before bed, just to get some comfort of home back. Instead, he’d tossed the remote to Jonas. Lena said she’d wait to watch it with him when he came back, and he didn’t want to let her down. Plus, he wasn’t totally sure he wanted Jonas knowing he enjoyed such trashy shit.

He missed the steadiness of her presence. He’d gotten so used to living alone, he’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone else in the house. She was always there if he needed a little comfort, offering a hug or a listening ear, or a back rub. 

After he got home, they fell into a comfortable routine, weaving in and out of each other's lives. They would have coffee at the start of each day before she left for classes, and he left for practice. 

In the afternoon, she worked on her art in the living room, and he liked to watch her paint or draw, silhouetted against the large window, if she was still there after he’d taken his nap. 

She cooked dinner most nights. She wasn’t a chef by any means, but she enjoyed cooking, and he was always appreciative, even when something was burned. Plus, she owed him. The money he saved her by not having to pay for housing for a year wasn’t insubstantial. Cooking was a small way she could pay him back on the few nights he was home each week. She’d even made his favorite meal the day after a hard loss. 

He gave her the cold he caught on their second trip. Something, he was sure, he got from Haula’s kids, and they were miserable together for a few days. He woke to her showering in the middle of the night more than once as she tried to clear her sinuses. 

When Halloween came around, he asked if she wanted to go to the team party with him. It was the first time since he’d come to New Jersey he didn’t have to come up with a costume by himself or do something with one of his teammates. He’d had girlfriends before, most of them from Switzerland, but no one who was able to make it to the party.

They spent one of his off weekends figuring out what to wear. Lena was worried about giving people the wrong idea and shot down most of the suggestions that came up on her web search as they were all suited for couples. 

Every time someone asked how long they had been dating, it was like being jabbed with a hot poker; pointing out everything she wanted but didn’t have. 

In the end, they decided to go as people who had been stranded in the desert. She panted their cheeks to look sunburned and put dyed baby powder in their hair and eyebrows to mimic sand. They wore ripped, tan clothing and carried empty canteens. 

When she’d come out of her room, he swore his heart nearly stopped upon seeing the open, artfully dirty button up shirt she wore tied over a tan colored bra. He’d seen her in a swimsuit before, so in theory, he’d seen this much of her skin, but this seemed more intimate than a bathing suit. 

It sparked a new wave of longing in him. 

More than once, Jack gave him an exasperated look when he caught Nico staring at her as she talked with the WAGs. He was obsessing over all the little details of her costume. The way one of her shredded khaki pant legs was higher than the other, showing the tattoo of a paintbrush crossed with a pencil on the inside of her right ankle, the stripe of her smooth low back visible between her shirt and pants, and of course, the flash of her cleavage anytime she turned toward him. 

“You’re gonna have to make it happen, man,” he said, passing by to get another drink. 

It took almost six weeks, but he got used to her fresh faced beauty being around all the time. It didn’t dull necessarily, but like living in a beautiful place, eventually, the beauty fades into the background until the lighting changes and everything is suddenly new and breathtaking again. While she was around all the time, it grew easier for him to push aside. 

On a Saturday in early November, he came home from practice to hear her humming somewhere in the apartment. She wasn’t in the living room - in fact, her drop cloth and easel hadn’t even been set up. 

Opening his mouth to call for her, his greeting died in his throat when he walked into the kitchen. She was in a tight, pink t-shirt, a matching pair of little boy short underwear and nothing else. His eyes were immediately drawn to the round swells of her ass peeking out from under the material. 

He couldn’t look away. Even knowing he should say something, so she didn’t think he was just creepily watching her didn’t help him. 

Forget looking like a creep. He was never forgetting this as long as he lived. 

Lena turned around and jumped. Nico was standing in the kitchen doorway, mouth slightly agape. He’d been quiet as a mouse, and the shock of his sudden appearance sent her sandwich diving off the plate. It opened on its descent and splatted onto the dark tile, meat and condiment side down - because, of course, it did. 

She swore, and it snapped Nico out of his reverie. He dropped to his knees to help clean it up.

As she knelt next to him with a wet rag to wipe the butter off the tile, her bare knee slid into his field of vision.

“I’m sorry I didn't say anything,” he said emphatically, feeling himself blush as he kept his eyes trained on the floor so they wouldn’t travel up the creamy expanse of her thigh.

Shaking her head, Lena stood, hoping he didn’t notice she’d practically turned the same shade as her shirt, “I’m sorry about this,” she said, gesturing to her legs. Of course he had to come home when she wasn’t wearing any pants. The shirt and panties had arrived that morning, and she had been trying them on when she decided to make a sandwich.

Nico looked up and felt his jaw go slack. Somehow, he managed to keep it from falling open. He could clearly see the slope of her breasts and a stripe of her stomach where the shirt didn't quite reach her underwear. He inexplicably wanted to bite the curve of her inner thigh.

He could only blink several times before he managed to look away. Made new in the harsh light of the kitchen, wanting her took over his thoughts, turning him into a bumbling idiot once again.

God, what wouldn’t he give to worship her any way she would let him?

“I didn’t think you were coming home until later. I would have put on pants.”

The fact that she apparently often didn’t wear pants when he wasn’t home burrowed into his brain to torture him later. 

He managed to make some kind of noncommittal noise and stood up. 

Lena scurried to her room, grateful that, at least, she had this new set on, and not a pair of ratty old undies.

She wished she could forget the shocked look on his face when he looked up at her from his knees. She’d envisioned him on his knees before her so many times, but none of those fantasies involved him staring open mouthed at her thighs. 

A week later, as they were watching Love Island, Lena asked a question she never thought she would have to.

“When’s your next night off at home?” 

Nico pulled up his calendar app, and flipped through the days, “Thursday.” 

“Oh.”

“What’s up?” he asked, setting his phone on the side table. 

“I…” Her cheeks flushed, and she bit her lip. 

“What?” he asked, feeling nervous. She was going to tell him she started dating someone, wasn’t she? That she’d met someone while he’d been out of town. The prospect of it roiled in his stomach.

“I thought I had more time,” she said. 

His fantasized dilemma fractured a little. “More time for what?” 

She took in a calming, deep breath, looking up at the ceiling so she didn’t have to look at his face when she said it. “I need to — I need to do a nude study for my figure class.” 

“So? You’ve done nude studies before,” he reminded, thinking about the sketches he’d seen in her portfolio. Part of this intensive training was figure drawing, which he knew she didn’t enjoy, but everything he’d seen looked near perfect to him. Smooth, curved lines, and strong, handsome faces. He didn’t understand what she was so worried about. 

 Professor Brown’s consistent feedback was that her drawings looked too one dimensional, that she wasn’t capturing the living essence of her subjects. She assured the class that, though it would be awkward, their art would be better when they could no longer pretend the person in front of them was a sculpture. The surefire way to do that? Take away the emotional distance between the artist and their model.

“Yeah, but those were with people I’d never met. My professor wants us to do a study with someone we know…preferably of the opposite gender. She said it would make the art more intimate.” Daring to meet his eyes, Lena felt a blush scorch her skin.

Understanding sparked in his face, and she watched his eyes widen. 

“You want me to be your nude model?” 

She licked her lips, “I thought about asking Jesper to do it, but that didn’t seem right.” 

“Why Jes?” he asked, barely keeping the flair of emotion out of his voice. That was the last thing he wanted to hear. Not only was his love for her unrequited, she would be more comfortable sketching one of his teammates. One of his engaged teammates.

“I don’t know. I feel like he wouldn’t be weird about it since the swedes are always so,” she gestured to her own body, “open. But it felt too… intimate when he has Nicole and we’re…us,” she finished lamely, finally daring to look into his face. 

His heart leapt into his throat. 

We’re us? What did that mean? What was us? They were friends? She wanted something more than friendship? Hope reignited in his chest for the millionth time.

He cleared his throat, hoping she couldn’t hear his heart hammering. “What would -” he had to pause to clear his throat again. “What would it involve?” 

“You’d just need to sit or stand for a few hours while I do some sketches.”

“Naked?” he asked, his voice squeaking over the word despite his attempts to stay cool, “or could I wear my boxers?” 

“I need to turn in six sketches, but at least half of them need to be nude, so you would only need to be naked for part of it.” 

He didn’t respond right away, trying to sort out and understand his own racing thoughts.

She nibbled at her lip, “I know it’s kind of a lot to ask.” 

There were so many reasons he wanted to say no, but despite all that, Nico still found himself nodding. He could never say no to her, even if it meant he had to pose naked for her to sketch. 

She felt her cheeks flush again. The thought of seeing him this way had nixed the idea of Jesper from her mind. She didn’t want to sketch his thighs, even if it would be less awkward than sketching Nico. She might never get the chance to see him naked in a romantic setting, so, selfishly, she was seizing the opportunity while she had it. 

“Has to be Thursday?” he asked. 

“Well, sometime in the next week,” she said. “If you’re not comfortable with it, I can ask Jesper.”

“It’s not that,” he said. Too quick, too desperate. If she asked Jesper, it would get around the locker room like wildfire that she’d asked him instead of Nico and on top of not wanting to let her down, he couldn’t take the chirping that would come from that. “It’s just fast.” 

“Do you have another day off?” 

He swiped through his calendar again and shook his head. “We leave for six days after the game on Friday.” 

Her lips pursed together. The flush that was glowing on her cheeks made him smile. At least she was just as nervous as he was. 

“Do you need me to do anything before? Shave or…anything?” he asked, gesturing to his chest.

She hadn't even thought about it. From what she remembered, Nico didn't have a huge amount of chest hair anyway.

She'd known going into this conversation that it would end with at least a fifty percent chance he’d say yes, but when he asked about shaving, it struck her suddenly and completely that she really was about to see him naked.

“Nothing you wouldn’t normally do,” she squeaked.

Nico felt himself smile. If she was going to be this flustered the whole time, maybe this wouldn’t be half bad. 

It Doesn't Matter:

Part I | Part II | Part III | Playlist

To read all my fics, check out my Fanfiction Masterlist

[tragedy-of-commons]

lay your life down and pretty

various hsr x gn!reader | wc: ~2k

In which you die (or they've already lost you).

tags/warnings: character death (reader), it's implied in dh's part but explicit and semi-graphic in hanya's, descriptions of mara and the insanity that comes with it, hardcore angst, hurt no comfort, there may be Lore Inaccuracies

notes: this was originally supposed to be four parts. i'm sorry it's only two but it's just been uhhh... hope you enjoy & thanks for the incredible support lately <3

Dan Heng makes the best pancakes.

You’ve expressed this undeniable fact to his face multiple times, louder in their progression just to see the tips of his ears burn that endearing red. These declarations are reserved for breakfast. At this time you also chide him for trying to weasel his way out of eating the most important meal of the day!

And he’d sigh, letting you hound him about food options until he’d crack under the weight of your grin and end up mixing batter at 7:30 in the morning.

(“I tried flipping them in the air once and the pancake slapped me in the face,” you’d regaled, head resting idly on your fist.

Dan Heng stared into the black of the skillet. “...Somehow, I don’t doubt it.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” you huffed.

He almost let not-quite laugh slip then, but because of his stuck-uppery, he just managed to look peeved. “I would appreciate it if you passed me the butter.”)

Instead it is around 9:00 in the morning, and Dan Heng is alone. 

He’d stayed up late the night before doing some reading, causing him to oversleep and rush the process today. He’s almost burned his hand on the stove eye twice, nearly dropped an egg on the floor, and has just narrowly avoided burning the batch. Dan Heng is not clumsy (not like you were), and he is painfully aware that he is late.

After he plates the food, the oven clock reads 9:19. He gathers everything, including two sets of utensils and one awkward wad of napkins - before setting the table by heart. Your plate goes in front of the chair closest to the window, and his goes in front of the one adjacent to yours. 

The rhythm of distributing each item eventually leaves him with empty hands. Everything is ready, but there is still something colossal missing from the scene.

Dan Heng stares hard at your empty seat before taking his own. 

The pancakes are blackened around the edges, but it’s nothing a good heaping portion of syrup can’t fix, and the smell that wafts upward is sweet and inviting. The sun’s rays shining in from the outside world paint the kitchen in flecks of light that occasionally catch on his arm when he brings his fork to his mouth.

Resigned, his silverware clatters noisily to the table.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m sorry that I was late.”

Predictably, there’s no response. Dan Heng’s throat feels like it’s closing up on him, and the syrup definitely isn’t helping. He dabs his mouth with his napkin for a good long while.

He is sorry. It wasn’t enough that he’d stayed up late the night before, but that he deliberately kept glancing at the clock and counting the hours until daylight arrived - reminding himself that if he drifted off, the next day would come much sooner.

He isn’t the type to procrastinate either. Even when you’re not here anymore, you seem to have a profound effect on his character. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose. The sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the lonely kitchen is unwelcome. “Happy birthday.”

It’s strained, imperfect, and painful; which only serves to remind him of your insistence on celebrating his birthday as well. You had practically prostrated yourself at his feet, begging him to let you fuss over him - even if it made his vision hazy and palms sweaty. He needs to return the favor, even if the mere idea of another important date passing him up without you makes him want to hide.

So here he is. 

Here he is, floundering terribly, missing you terribly, loving you terribly. Dan Heng wrenches his hand from its secure position in his lap to drum on the table.

“I got you something,” he says. “I… I didn’t know which color you’d prefer more, so…”

You’d tease him into an early grave if you were able to see the knitted oven mitt he’d picked out over two months ago. It’s an almost hideous shade of teal that he’s sure you’d love, especially since you forced him to bake with you regularly.

(He was shopping with March 7th when he’d seen it and then reflexively dumped it into his basket. His companion only asked him if he was planning on using it as kindling for the fireplace.)

Dan Heng closes his eyes and slides it over to your placement. For a second, he almost fools himself into thinking you might magically appear to brush fingers when you accept the gift with a bright smile. He has no such luck.

Your breakfast is getting colder, and there’s nothing to be done today; his friends, as much as he can say he appreciates them - also meddle quite a bit. His schedule was mysteriously cleared up and he was gently encouraged to go home and take the day off. The feeling of three pairs of eyes drilling holes into his back as he complied was a bit too potent to be coincidental.

So he sits there and pretends he’s eating with you for as long as he can. The stutters in the familiar rhythm that comes with today are things he can smooth out over time, even if it feels like a betrayal to you. You would never see it like that, which is why he can even live in a home without you in it at all.

(The oven mitt rests beside your full plate until the afternoon, because he cannot bring himself to clean up just yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to.)

Dan Heng is not a man who can afford to hope, but he’s already been in debt since the moment of his birth. If just one of his prayers is granted, he hopes it’s the one he runs through his mind every night:

In the next life, please let us cross paths again. And if there’s room for it, please let me love you for as long as I can.

He’s never been one for optimism, but it’s all he looks forward to.

Hanya’s hands cradle the expanse of your face.

Her fingers ghost over any healthy glow remaining in your cheeks. You’re slipping, rightfully so, but does it make her a monster if she wants to claw and rifle through the sands of time to search for any universe where you were spared from this cruel fate?

(She thinks it does.)

You can’t get the words out, but there’s a resigned film that glazes over your eyes - one that tells her that she needn’t lie about where you’ll be going. Your mouth forms silent syllables punctuated by wheezes that will surely send her careening under the depths of the unconscious at record speed.

“Han.. ya,” you croak, “Stay.”

“I will,” she promises, because she needs to - over and over, until you remember it always, even when you’re gone. Even when you’re suffering through the last moments of your fledgling life. “I will remain here.”

Her duty as a Judge of the Ten-Lords Commission is to oversee life and death on the Xianzhou. When Hanya drifts aimlessly like a spectre between inky darkness and blinding daylight, it has occasionally struck her that one day she might have to oversee yours.

Presently, your mind is being swallowed by the maw of mara, a madness that she’s all too familiar with; faced with her dull countenance, she must have witnessed thousands succumb to the fate of infernal life. 

“D-Don’t cry,” you beseech. There isn’t much time until you’re no longer Hanya’s secret reprieve, but instead a writhing abomination - and she only has herself to blame. Had she not embraced you so tightly, would you be free of this curse? Would you still be smiling and dragging her by the hand through Exalting Sanctum?

“I will not send you there,” she breathes, “You are not deserving of—”

The agonizing cry you let out next is still beautiful. Even now you can mitigate the emptiness that’s dug its claws in her heart so deep that it’s become symbiotic with the organ. However, instead of the empty, Hanya feels its distant relative: the pins and needles. The hollow white noise crackles until she’s pierced with an arsenal of skeletal knives.

She could take it, and she would take it, if it meant that you weren’t about to die and then awaken again as a monster that desecrates the very concept of you.

She releases your now matching tear-stricken cheeks before seizing both of your arms. The thrashing has crept in, meaning that there isn’t much time before you start sprouting leaves and weeds like a statue abandoned by its devotees. 

A sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “You have… to. M’gonna hurt—” you convulse in her grasp, “—somebody...”

Of course you’re worrying about others right now. Kindness is a relic of the past that you’ve somehow managed to exhume, restore to its full glory, and gift to Hanya like she deserves to touch others’ lives in the same way you have. 

Every shopkeep knows your name, face, voice, and smile. Your warmth is infectious - even before she knew you in person, she knew of you by word of mouth. Xueyi had told her that the reason Huohuo was so resolute in her duties lately was because of “the person who defeated a bunch of reprobate hooligan bullies tormenting her”. 

If her big sister held you in high regard, she figured you were one she wouldn’t mind exchanging greetings with if you ever crossed paths. However, the thing about you is that you always give more than you take; you too eventually gave her your smile over tea, your opinion on her writing, and a perspective from the light she usually only smothers upon first contact. 

It seems that it was just a matter of time before Hanya extinguished you.

“You are not ready,” she begs pitifully, “You are not!”

She knows it’s never about being ready. Bad things always happen to good people - to sons, daughters, friends, big sisters, and lovers.

Lovers. 

The word is foreign on the tip of her tongue. It’s strange to be actualized and even stranger to ascribe that label to your relationship, but Hanya doesn’t know what else to think when the knives stab her over and over to the elegy of I love you, I love you, I love you.

The trek from Fyxestroll Garden to the Alchemy Commission is sizable. The Dragon Lady could see you and do her best, but she’s seen where that’s led; best efforts gone to waste, inconsolable loved ones given false hope because they were too stubborn to let go.

Is that what she is? Too stubborn to let you go, even when she’s brought this karma upon you?

(Yes, something ugly whispers, this is your penance. Now it’s theirs too.)

“I...” you let out a strangled groan, and when your chest jerks upwards, it barely registers that you brush your lips against hers. There’s tears and snot everywhere, and you’re getting stronger - too strong for her to hold. Hanya’s forearms ache with the strain as gingko leaves begin to ravage your humanity and rip you apart.

The transformation process is cruel, but she promised to remain by your side. Twigs protrude from your neck, nestled between thorny brambles that poke and prod. You are not a Cloud Knight, so your screams aren’t muffled by armor - or muted by the numbness she feels when dealing with other cases. 

It’s too real, it’s too much, and it’s not enough.

Drowned out by the previous mantra of I love you, the background vocals of I’m so sorry peter off into whispers that are soon lost among the sickening squelch of Xueyi’s blade cutting through you in one clean motion. The tip of the sword rests over Hanya’s heart, stained with your blood.

“...That’s not them anymore,” her sister says. It’s off-kilter, the way her brow is furrowed in a silent apology.

One can only hope.

taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

WYD 1

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: A fan makes an offer your can't refuse.

(based on suggestion he's been overworking himself for weeks if not months. He knows he needs a break but his work is too important. Maybe what he needs is someone to take care of him so he can focus more on work. from @thezombieprostitute)

Characters: Bucky Barnes

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You can’t help but grin as you scroll through the comments. There aren’t many but those that are there give you that rush of adrenaline. More so, the interaction is great for your wallet.

As a faceless creator, your interaction is limited. You prefer the smaller community. Your might not be the most lucrative account on OnlyFans but it pays your rent, just about.

It’s the only secret you’ve ever had in your life and it’s a big one. You don’t think anyone would believe it. Not you. Not the librarian’s assistant on part-time salary in her corduroys and stuffy oversized cardigans.

It wasn't exactly an opportunity you were fond of, more of a last resort. You don’t fantasize about the men on the other side of the screen, as flattering as they can be. They have a similar sort of desperation, but the crux of it is somewhat more pitiful.

It’s the private message waiting for you that surprises you. That alone is behind a paywall, a feature many users forego when they’re only there for the quick wank. You shudder at the thought, often avoiding that reality of your side hustle.

You’re nervous to check but alone in the stacks, with not much else to do, your curiosity gets the best of you. You tap the icon and bring up the chat from BB. No profile pic, no info, just a message.

‘Are you interested in a private arrangement? 5k/week guaranteed.’

Great, a scam. You roll your eyes and close the app. Stupid. But why would someone pay for content just to try to con you. It’s a pretty big gamble.

You tuck away your phone and sigh, pacing up and down the aisle. The soft flutter of pages and stagnant silence. It’s so dull, you’d rather deal with anything else for the minimum wage and uncertain hours. Still, the freedom lets you tend to your other business.

A few minutes later, out of habit, you bring out your phone again. You linger in the blindspot of the cameras and unlock it. The app pops up as you left it. Another message.

‘Don’t leave me on read.’

The demand startles you. You should just block but you know that it’s money in your pocket. You’re not gullible, more greedy.

‘5k? Okay, sure.’

You press send and hide your phone behind your back and wander on. Your insides squirm. You’re not stupid enough to believe it. You look again at the end of the next shelf.

‘If you want more, we can negotiate. We’d have to meet to do that.’

You scoff aloud and quickly look around. There’s no one there to be disturbed. You evasively sit at one of the desk and hide behind the wooden cubicle that encloses it.

‘I’m not stupid’, you reply.

‘No, but you’re gorgeous. Pick the place. Let’s talk.’

‘Good luck finding whatever you’re looking for but it’s not with me,’ you type, skin razed and speckly.

‘I mean it.’

‘You’re not real. Your 5k is less real. Save your money and stop messaging.’

You wait, watching the screen. Your ears prick as you listen to the lull of the forgotten library. You can hear a cart rolling a few aisles back. You can’t get caught on your phone again.

A new notification blips up in the app before you can black the screen. ‘BB sent a tip’. You click it without thinking and bring up the tip; $1,000. A thousand? A message pops down and you quickly flick the chat back over the screen.

‘Believe me now?’ He challenges.

You take a breath and lock your phone, tucking it up your sleeve as you stand and turn down an aisle, passing the approaching cart as you refuse to look at the employee behind it. You go to the catalogue computer and pretend to tidy the little paper slips and pencils. You wait until the wheels squeak onward.

You slide your phone out and press your fingertip against the censor. The screen opens and the next message taunts you.

‘Give me a place and time’.

You hesitate and peek around, paranoid that others could read your mind just by looking at you.

‘Send a pic. Then I’ll meet,’ you counter.

‘You first, doll. Face for a face.’

You don’t like this and yet, you’re messaging.

‘After you,’ you insist.

No answer. You shake your head and put your phone back under your cuff. You carry on and head up the stairs to the next level. When you look at your phone again, there’s a response waiting for you.

A man with bright blue eyes and a sculpted jawline. Handsome, almost breathtakingly so. Your surprise is undergirded by your insecurity. Well, might as well send your own and let him change his mind. You scroll through your miniscule collection of selfies that don’t make you cringe and send one off.

You can’t look away as you wait. You know what’s coming. Rejection. Finally…

‘Place, time. Make sure to buy yourself something nice.”

You stare at his answer, dumbfounded. Are you really going to do this?

[asmolfolk]

Boothill Romantic Headcanons.🍓☽。･:*:･

Just a quick heads up: This character had their history and dialogues leaked, if you haven't seen the leaks and don't to be spoiled by the character backstory: Please, save this to read for later! Stay safe! Also, as always: I will always try to make this as neutral as possible. Informations that could potentially be Canon x OC are NOT there (Such as your region, what you work with and etc.) And also, I use He/them for Boothill as I headcanon him as nbmasc!

Fandom: Honkai Star rail. Character: Boothill Idea: "How would the characters be as romantical partners?" TW: SPOILERS! 🍓☽。･:*:･

Boothill

Falling in Love.

Who fell in love first?

He fell first.

If you saw the leaks you know… This man can’t cry, this man lost everything that he once owned. His planet was considered uncivilized from the IPC, he lost everyone he cared about in one day. He became “Boothill”, a cyborg that hated the IPC… And, so, there’s the question: How did you fall for him? He can’t catch this. He doesn’t understand WHY or, better, HOW someone could ever love him. He wasn’t even HUMAN anymore, how could someone love “something” like that? Yet, you came. As a breeze in the summer, as a sweet taste in an unknown mix… You weren’t supposed to have his heart in your hands… But you have. Maybe it was the way you kept on talking to him, kept on helping him out whenever and anywhere. You two started to form some sort of alliance and have someone so pretty, such a pretty pal… Was not okay with his mechanical heart. ━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

How do they notice they have fallen in love?

He couldn’t understand WHY or HOW he fell in love. But, he realized that when he was talking to you and he started to feel some heat when he saw your smile, heard your laugh or just held your hand, he felt like he could combust. This was enough for him to realize that he liked you, but… Not that he was falling in love. He wasn’t stupid, he knew the details - he knew when he was in love with someone, even if he never felt it so deeply like this. But, even then, it was too early. You had known each other only for a few weeks, he decided to wait… And when he noticed some action on your part or even something that he could be delusional over you liking him back… ONLY THEN, he would confess. ━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

Confession.

Who confessed first?

It depends.

Now, we came into a difficult subject. Even if I said that he would confess… If he never saw something that could clarify his head and to make sure you like him back, he wouldn’t confess. Now, the reasoning: He already lost so much. Somewhere in his head, being with another person can mean a lot of things… And one of them is feeling, he doesn’t know how he will handle not being able to cry, not being able to feel you with all his body. He doesn’t want to make you suffer… So, if he doesn’t see anything: He wouldn’t confess.

━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

And there he was, overthinking every single little thing that happened in those couple of weeks… And he couldn’t get his head in the problem that he built. Do you love him or not?

He was asking himself this question over every communication that you guys had, he would do anything to try to prove to himself that you don’t. Every action you take, everything that you do… Oh, those little things that he loved. Every single movement was put into his hard drive, his memory wouldn’t let him know how much he loves you… And, just like that…

You don’t know how surprised he was when those words came out of your mouth. He would ask you to repeat your confession, again, again and again… IF only he could cry while listening to you, pouring your heart out to him…. Oh, darling, he loves you way too much. He would immediately hold you and spin you around, he wants you to feel what he can’t… To feel his loving hands holding you just like the awesome, pretty and important lil’ thing.

“Hah, Doll… Didn’t expect ya’ to be so forward… Are my actions not enough answer? I want ya’ too. I love ya’… And I don’t think I will ever feel something like this again.” - He said, his words were sugarsweet and held a sincerity that no one could ever see before.

━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

Now… What if he confesses first? What could potentially happen if Boothill decides: “Fudge this! Let’s do it”?

━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

 You knew something was happening when Boothill was not looking directly at you. They seemed to be a bit off today, holding a box that he seemed to grip a bit too strongly while they guided you to a private place.

 It was one of the calmest day in your life… For once, you could enjoy their company happily. You two were alone, sitting close to the hill while looking at the sky… It was already night, but, somehow, you didn’t feel tired.

“Darlin’...” - They called, seemed to be thinking a bit too much before they let the box right in your lap - “Juss’ wanna make sure you… Understand it.”

 When you opened the box, it had everything you talked to them about. Every item you liked, every item you told them you would love to receive from a boyfriend… For a second, you thought they misunderstood you until you reached for a letter, it had their black lipstick and just a simple phrase: “Wanna be my partner forever?” with a silly doodle of them.

 They, seeing your reaction, would say; “Just to make sure: It’s romantical alright? I wouldn’t do this kind of thing for some friend… Just for you.”

━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

Language of Love.

What's their language of love?

━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

Quality of Time, Gifts and Words of Affirmation.

Now, HEAR. ME. OUT. This dude, this bro, this cowboy bebop!!!!! They want NOTHING but you to be happy, IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT YOU WANT: YOU GET! THEY DON’T SEE REASONS OR ANY ARGUMENT FOR NOT MAKE YOU THEIR QUEENIE/KINGIE/ROYAL! The truth is: Boothill feels like his words, his time and gifts are the only thing that he can do to make things “better”. He can’t… Feel you the way he wants, he can’t cry for you, he can’t provide you with those things - so he provides you with things he can. He can tell you how pretty you are, how amazing you are, how everything you do is incredible. He can gift you - He can give you anything you want, he can go into an adventure and come back with so many gifts that your house gets flooded with them. He normally comes home with a lot of gifts, so: When you pull for him, remember that! He also makes sure to spend lots and lots of time with you. Always making sure for you to feel loved and unmatchable!

“Ma doll, didn’t expect you to be here so soon! Well, look at the goods I got ya. Hm, hm… Yeah, I know that it’s too much, but all of them remind me of ya’ pretty face. Especially those lil’ cat cakes thingies.” - They would chuckle as he saw your reaction… It was those moments that made him sure: He may have lost his family but he found a new one.

━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

Reaction of your language of love.

Lemme tell you one thing: He doesn’t care, he is gonna take all of your love like the greedy robocop he is. He says he doesn’t have a preference and he is going to love everything you give to him, but the truth is: NOTHING shows him more love than you just being yourself. Not you trying to make him feel loved or anything, just you being you. You doing things you love, you talking to people about your favorite things… All those little situations are enough for him. He loves it. But, being honest here… I think he loves the way you touch his face - THIS MAN IS TOUCH STARVED - it’s actually the only place he can feel. He feels like - for just a moment - you two could be a normal couple. ━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

As boyfriend/partner.

How do they treat you?

Do I need to repeat myself? HE LOOOVES YOU SO SO MUCH! He is 100% one to take you out to many different places just because he wants to see you smiling for a bit. When you two start dating, he seems to be on cloud 9 for the first time in forever… He is still asking you to repeat those three words that make his mechanical heart plump as if it was human's. He still asks you to accompany you instead of asking you for a date. Give him a bit of time, he’s still understanding that you truly accepted his confession and that you didn’t leave him behind. Sometimes, when you two sleep close or together he stops everything he’s doing just to observe you, to have every moment with you in his memory card. In those moments, he normally notices: “You are real, THIS is real.” You would receive double the care on those moments, being treated just like the sweet lil’ thing you are. He would say some corny shit, I will admit. He is the type to make jokes just to crack a smile on you, he is also always trying to make you feel lighter - feel like you have no such thing as a sad day and to make you… Feel like you could fly, be free for once.

━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

Jealous.

 I’ll tell you: I THINK HE’S A JELLY GUY!  Boothill gets jealous more to think: “You are going to leave him for someone that CAN feel you.” and he just can’t let that happen, right? He wants to be with you and he is scared that, maybe, you will come to the realization that you aren’t interested in this mess anymore.  He is a scared man, scared of losing the only family he has left.

━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━━────━

Resume.

As a boyfriend, Boothill is a sweet and loving one. Yeah, you guys can have REALLY nasty discussions that can only result in both of you getting hurt, but, HE IS ALWAYS THE ONE to come up to you - telling you that you two need to talk without fighting. He is also someone who will cherish you. As I’m married to him I can assure you: He is going to be a perfect hubby… You just need patience!

[autistic-robin]

Why “Hiding in the Light” Didn’t Work: Stranger Things’ Psychospiritual Implications

Supplementary Sources: Jungian Theory & A Wrinkle In Time

Alright, buckle in. I’m running on a year’s worth of spiritual awakening, deep dives into Jungian theory and non-dualism, and my own ego’s primary coping mechanism: immersing myself in media as escapism. The purpose of this analysis is to break down the themes of non-dualism and light/darkness in ST (and maybe predict some character arcs), and also to position the narrative of ST as a psychospiritual wake-up call.

For some context: last year, I discovered the work of psychoanalyst (or philosopher, depending on who you’re talking to) Carl Jung. He had a pretty extensive theory about the human psyche that I immediately connected to the themes throughout Stranger Things, specifically Vecna’s mind control and curse. I’m going to break Jung’s theory down as succinctly as I can, and then delve into how it plays out in our favorite gay monster show.

But before I delve into Jung’s ideas, I also think it’s important to define selfhood (you’ll understand why in a minute). For the purposes of this analysis, the experience of the “self” is an illusion created by our senses, perceptions, memories, and consciousness, all of which are impermanent. Therefore, the self is what we call “conditioned.” There is no you or me, just the ideas we have of ourselves.

Now, we can get into Jung’s theory. He posited the following:

1. Every individual has a “persona” they show the world (a constructed self) to feel like they belong. Underneath this persona, everyone has a personal “shadow,” or the part of themselves they don’t want to acknowledge. This shadow is always projected onto others— every negative thought we have about someone else is a product of our own unintegrated shadow. Note: The shadow is NOT bad, it just “is.” It’s actually there to HELP us grow and integrate all the unhealed parts of us.

2. Individuals’ shadows are usually part of their unconscious, meaning most people are not aware of their shadow side or cannot bear to delve into their trauma/darkness and begin to heal it.

3. All of human consciousness is CONNECTED. This means two things. 1: There is a “collective unconsciousness” that contains the sum of all of our unintegrated trauma, and 2: We can heal our collective unconsciousness by healing our own unconsciousness.

How do we heal our own unconsciousness? By becoming AWARE of our shadow side, accepting and forgiving the conditioning that created it, and working to encourage others to do the same.

What— or rather, who— does that remind you of?

Also— great use of lighting here.

We know Vecna has direct access to his victims’ consciousness; not just their memories, cognition, and emotions, but also their awareness itself. This is how he’s able to target and trance people. But it’s not just their consciousness Vecna has access to; it’s their unconsciousness. Their shadow. Their trauma. Yes, he has psionic abilities akin to El’s, but as far as we know, El can’t access the collective unconsciousness like Vecna can. She is only capable of “remote viewing” via the void or piggybacking into people’s minds. So why is Vecna capable of this?

If you want my take on it: the only way to access a collective shadow would be through accessing your own shadow. So is Vecna really Henry, or his unintegrated shadow? And is either really condemnable, considering the larger themes of the show?

We see this theme of non-dualism echoed in Brenner’s NINA pep talk with El:

It’s fascinating to me that they’re communicating these bigger thematic ideas through the show’s “villians”— while the above conversation could be taken at surface-level as Brenner being manipulative, it’s important to acknowledge the truth of what he’s saying. NINA is only successful because El faces “the good and the bad.” This is why “hiding in the light” is a no-go for Max.

Focusing only on happy memories is a form of emotional bypassing. Throughout the show, we’ve been told time and again that hiding doesn’t work. Neither does running away. The only way out for our characters is through their own shadows.

Now, the fun part: predictions. Looking at all of this with a Jungian lens, it doesn’t make much sense to villianize a character or to end the story by “defeating evil.” In non-dual theory, there are no evil people, only unhealed ones.

We know what worked for our characters temporarily (Will in the UD, Max in her first trance, El using her powers against Vecna) was the memory and vibration of love.

This reminded me of A Wrinkle In Time, which is a science fiction novel that’s been noted more than a few times as one of Stranger Things’ primary influences. In the book, a girl and her brother travel through time to rescue their father from an alternate dimension where all beings are controlled in a hyper-individualist suburbia by a giant, all-knowing brain. The climactic “defeat” of the brain is shockingly simple, but incredible impactful— Meg, the heroine, tells it over and over that she loves it. This love ultimately brings her father and brother out of trances they are in, and they’re able to remember her and travel back home.

(Tangent: And God. The implications of that, outside of analyzing ST, are powerful. How do we live in a capitalist hellscape that is so caught up in the mind— in acheiving, obtaining, securing, protecting the ego— that many of us have forgotten our hearts? The answer is love. Loving ourselves more deeply to love all beings more deeply, “the good and the bad.” But love does not negate accountability, and it does not excuse harm.)

Our characters are all struggling with self-acceptance and self-love in some form or another. Each is wrestling with secrets and lies, and the desire to hide parts of themselves they think others can’t accept.

Mike is clearly struggling with self-loathing, guilt surrounding what happened to El in s1, and a crippling hero complex.

Will is also on the self-loathing train, continually self-sacrifices to his own detriment, and is hiding his identity out of fear (not at all villifying that, just for the record.)

El struggled to reconcile her abilities and forced weaponization with her identity outside of the lab pre-s4.

Max was suicidal and had a lot of self-hatred after B*lly’s death.

Nancy parallels Mike in her survivor’s guilt post-s1 and exhibits the same lack of self-preservation and self-sacrificing tendencies.

You get my point. So how will these characters overcome their trauma? Not through hiding, or running, or bypassing. Not through the light alone. Through love— acknowledgement of their own darkness, compassion for the unhealed nature of others, and commitment to being honest with themselves and their loved ones. We know Will is El and Henry’s mirror/foil and will play a central role in S5, and with all of this in mind I think it’s safe to say he will break the cycle of bypassing and hiding from trauma and pain once and for all. He won’t fight it like El, hide from it like Max, or run from it like he did as a kid.

Only by integrating their shadows can our characters become truly “themselves,” or as Brenner puts it, “whole.”

I will probably have much more to say about this after my re-read of A Wrinkle in Time, but for now, that’s all I’ve got. :) Hope everyone is doing well!

[gallaghersgal]

High school sports au with Lip maybe dating a cheerleader + "shut up and kiss me already"

sonia i love u sm bc you're enabling me and my baseball!lip x cheerleader!reader addiction >:) no warnings, all characters are 18+, the assumption is they're high school seniors.

prompts from this au list and these subtle smut dialogues. part of my 1,500 follower celebration. celebration masterlist -> here.

the cheer team didn't normally come along to baseball games. however, a special exception was made for a game as important as the state semi-finals.

you smooth the skirt of your cheer uniform nervously and peek into the unused room where the boys are eating before the game, hoping to offer your best friend words of good luck. one of his teammates nudges lip and points to the door, and he looks up with a wide grin once he meets your eyes. he's out the door in a moment's time and his arm wraps around your waist to tug you into his side. "'s pretty cool that y're here," he mumbles.

you smile at him, taking the eye black stick he hands to you with a silent understanding of his question. your hand cradles his jaw to keep him still, applying dark streaks across his cheeks and curving them down into two little points. then, an idea pops into your head. "wait, stay right here," you tell him, tapping your hand on his chest.

you dash down the hallway to the area where the cheer girls have stored their bags, pulling your smallest detail brush from the clutch that held your makeup. you hurry back to a smiling lip, stepping into his space and running the brush over the eye black stick. you hold his face again, your cheeks heating up as his hand falls to your hip. he looks at you like you hung his moon and stars—the same way he has since you were kids—and honestly, to him you probably did. you mentally shake away the butterflies in your stomach to continue what you're doing. your brush draws a small heart beneath the dark line on his right cheek, then you add your initial next to it.

"there, signed my artwork," you say with a smile. "good luck, lip, i know you guys are gonna do great. and i mean, even if you don't, just getting here is-"

"shut up and kiss me already," he cuts you off, and you don’t need to be told twice. your fingers delve into the curls at the nape of his neck, lips pressing together, finally quelling the ache you’ve felt for so long.

the first kiss you share is short, followed by two quick pecks as lip chases your mouth then finally allows you to pull away. his hands stay on your hips like he never wants to let you go. one thumb rubs over the small stretch of skin revealed by your uniform. he stares at you, reverent, eyes moving from your pink lips, to your cheeks, to your eyes.

“what is it,” you ask softly, leaning in tentatively to kiss him one more time. he hums against your lips.

“you’ve, uh,” he traces a finger over your cheek. “you’ve got a little eye black on’ya,” he mumbles.

a giggle bubbles up from inside your chest and you lift your thumb up to pull his bottom lip into a pout. “well, you’ve got a little gloss, so. i think we’re even.”

“yeah?” lip asks with a smirk. he places a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your forehead, then finally breaks your shared bubble. “go on, get y’makeup fixed before the game. i’ll see you after, right?”

you can’t help the wide smile on your face as you respond, “right. i’ll see you then.”

lip gives you a little wave, turns towards the door, then hurries back to your side to steal one final kiss. you exclaim a soft, surprised ‘mmph!’ against his lips, to which he whispers, “for good luck,” before returning to the room with the rest of the team. as soon as the door closes you hear the boys whistle and clap and you laugh with delight, hurrying back to rejoin the rest of the cheer team.

when you step in with eye black smudged on your flushed cheeks they all gather around you, bubbling over with excited giggles and whispered questions.

[uriekukistan]

megumi character analysis, fearsome womb arc edition: establishing motivations

as im going through my re-read of jujutsu kaisen, i wanted to share some of my thoughts on characters and topics that im most passionate about, and of course megumi is one of those things. disclaimer, i am only going to be referring to things that occurred during the fearsome womb arc in this post, so the range of material im using to support my points is a bit limited.

my point in doing this is to draw attention to the misconceptions about megumi that lead to the large amount of hate he’s been receiving over the past year. if you keep up with the jjk fandom, you’ve no doubt seen the bumgumi allegations (eye twitches). honestly, i think a lot of this comes from a lack of understanding of megumi’s character, and what pushes him to act, or in some cases, not act. to me, this is absolutely wild, because megumi is one of the characters whose motivations and intentions are stated straight from the beginning, quite possibly some of the clearest stated motivations in the entire series.

i. he was never interested in being a sorcerer and has an established distaste for the system.

i would agree that sometimes megumi is a bit half-assed in his actions, but it’s important to understand why. he isn’t fond of his job. the reasoning behind this is not established until later on, but megumi’s stance is very clear. compared to nobara and yuuji, he’s very focused on getting his job done, rather than saving people.

being a sorcerer is not something he cares particularly about. it's just a task that he has to get done.

there’s also the way he talks about being a jujutsu sorcerer as being a “cog” in a system that he is personally disgusted with, due to the fact that it does nothing to help good people, like tsumiki for example.

sorcerers are one part of a system that completely disgusts him. his decision to save yuuji is another example of this.

his distaste for this system is clearly established early on in the story when he asks gojo to save yuuji because he can’t stand to see a good person like that die just because someone else somewhere said it was “right.” so it makes sense that he’s not going to put his all in all of the time, but it’s not because he’s lazy or a bum or a waste of potential. it’s because of his core sense of justice that has been a part of him and a central theme in jjk since the beginning.

ii. he is interested in saving good people.

i don’t want to spend too much time on this because it’s a pretty discussed and well-recognized aspect of megumi’s character, but this is a pretty fundamental principle behind his actions. for the most part, he is able to buckle down and do what he is “supposed” to do, regardless of if it’s what he personally believes is right, but there’s a visible difference in his effort level when there is someone he believes is good at stake.

when it’s the people he cares about at stake, he can and will push himself beyond his limits. after saving nobara, megumi is completely exhausted.

despite this, he still chooses to stay behind and wait for him, and puts forward the most effort he’d displayed thus far in the series, using his technique and his body more efficiently and more boldly than before, because yuuji is someone he believes is worth saving

he's also ready to let himself die to save yuuji.

in contrast, when fighting against todo, he shows an arguably much lower capacity of both his technique and his physical abilities compared to when he went against sukuna to save yuuji, because what's at stake is "only" himself, not someone he believes is "good," according to his own definition. he's not thinking about how to push his technique to be better or anything like that.

there's far better examples of this in other arcs, so i think i generally spoke about this and how it plays into the megumi hate better here, mostly because i’m restricting my materials for this analysis.

iii. he uses challenges as motivation to push himself beyond his limits.

in a somewhat different direction (aka not fully related to my overall point but i wanted to mention it anyway), megumi uses challenges to his abilities as an opportunity to grow. by challenges, i specifically mean verbal taunts. there’s not quite as many examples of this in just the fearsome womb arc, but probably the best example is when he figures out how to use shadows as an inventory for cursed tools, he remembers what sukuna said to him at the detention center, and it’s what motivates him to grow.

additionally, when he’s fighting against todo, he’s pushed to put more into the fight by todo taunting him and challenging his strength. if only inumaki hadn't stopped them, i would have loved to see what he pulled out...when megumi gets that crazy look, you know it's gonna be good.

this is interesting to me, because megumi is someone who carries a lot of self doubt, but the second someone else starts to doubt him, he pushes himself harder. he doesn’t want others to doubt him, despite constantly doubting himself.

anyway, i hope this was a useful look at why megumi acts the way he does. i think it’s very interesting how much he gets misinterpreted, despite how clearly his characteristics are laid out for the reader.

[physalian]

Humanizing Your Characters (And Why You Should)

To humanize a character is not to contort an irredeemable villain into the warped funhouse mirror reflection of a hero in the last 30 seconds to gain “narrative subversion” points. To humanize is not to give said villain a tragic backstory that validates every bad choice they make in attempt to provide nuance where it does not deserve to be.

To humanize a character, villain or otherwise, is to make them flawed. Scuff them up, give them narrative birthmarks and scars and imperfections. Whether it’s your hero, their love interest, the comic relief, the mentor, the villain, the rival, these little narrative details serve to make all your literary babies better.

Why should you humanize your characters?

To do this means to write in details beyond those that service the plot, or the themes, or the motifs, morals, foreshadowing, or story. These might be (and usually are) entirely unimportant in the grand scheme of things. So, if I wrote lengthy diatribes on pacing and why every detail must matter, and character descriptions and thematic importance, why am I now suggesting go free-for-all on the fluff?

Just like real people have quirks and tics and beliefs and pet peeves that serve our no greater purpose, so should fictional people. Your average reader doesn’t have the foggiest idea what literary devices are beyond metaphor, simile foreshadowing, and anecdote, but they can tell when the author is using motif and theme and all the syntactical marvels because it reads that much richer, even if they can’t pinpoint why.

And, for shipping fodder, these tiny little details are what help your audience fall in love with the character. It doesn’t even have to be in a book – Taylor Swift (whether you like her or not) never fills her music with sexual innuendo or going clubbing. She tells stories filled with human details like dancing in the refrigerator light. People can simultaneously relate to these very specific and vivid experiences, and say “not that exactly, but man this reminds me of…” and that’s (part of) the reason her music is so popular.

What kinds of narratives need these details?

All of them. Visual media, audio, written, stage play. Now, to what degree and excess you apply these details depends on your tone, intended audience, and writing style. If your style of writing is introspection heavy, noir character drama, you might go pretty heavy on the character design.

But even if you’re writing a kids book with a scant few paragraphs of setting descriptors and internal narration, or you’re drawing a comic book – if you have characters you want people to care about, do this.

Animators, particularly, are very adept at humanizing non-human characters, because, unlike live acting, every single stroke of the pen is there with intent. They use their own reflections for facial references, record their own movements to draw a dance, and insert little bits of themselves into signature character poses so you know that *that* animator did this one.

How to humanize your characters.

I’m going to break this down into a couple sections: Costume/wardrobe, personality, beliefs/behavior/superstitions, haptics/proxemics/kinesics, and voice. They will all overlap and the sheer variety and possibilities are way too broad for me to capture every facet.

Costumes and Wardrobe

In the film Fellowship of the Ring, there’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment where, after Boromir is slain by the Uruk-Hai, Aragorn takes Boromir’s Gondorian vambraces to wear in his honor, and in honor of their shared country. He wears them the rest of the trilogy. The editing pays no extra attention to them beyond a split second of Aragorn tightening the straps, it never lingers on them, never reminds you that they’re there, but they kept it in nonetheless. His actor also included a hunting bow that didn't exist in the book because he's a roamer, a ranger, and needs to be able to feed himself, along with a couple other survival tools.

Aragorn wears plenty of other symbolic bits of costume – the light of the Evenstar we see constantly from Arwen, the Lothlorien green cloaks shared by the entire Fellowship, his re-forged sword and eventual full Gondorian regalia, but all those are Epic Movie Moments that serve a thematic purpose.

Taking the vambraces is just a small, otherwise insignificant character moment, a choice made for no other reason than that’s what this character would do. That’s what makes him human, not an archetype.

When you’re writing these details and can’t rely on sneaking them into films, you have to work a little harder to remind your audience that they exist, but not too often. A detail shifts from “human” to “plot point” when it starts to serve a purpose to the themes and story.

Inconsequentiality might be how a character ties, or doesn’t tie their shoelaces, because they just can’t be bothered so they remain permanent knots and tripping hazards. It might be a throw-away line about how they refuse to wear shorts and strictly stick to long pants because they don’t like showing off their legs. It might be perpetually greasy hair from constantly running their fingers through it with stress, or self-soothing. A necklace they fidget with, or a ring, a belt they never bother to replace even though they should, a pair of lucky socks.

Resist the urge to make it more meaningful than “this is just how they are”. If I’m using the untied shoelaces example – in Spiderverse, this became a part of the story’s themes, motifs, and foreshadowing, and doesn’t count. Which isn’t bad! It’s just not what I’m talking about.

Personality

In How to Train Your Dragon, Toothless does not speak. All his personality comes from how he moves, the noises he makes, and the expressions on his face. There’s moments, like in the finale, when his prosthetic has burned off and Hiccup tells him to hold on for a little bit longer, and you can clearly see on his face that he’s deeply uncertain about his ability to do so. It’s almost off the screen, another blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. Or the beat of hesitation before he lets Hiccup touch him in the Forbidden Friendship scene. Or the irritated noise he makes when he’s impatiently waiting for Hiccup to stop chatting with his dad because they have a giant dragon to murder. Or when he slaps Hiccup with his ear fin for flying them into a rock spire.

None of those details *needed* to exist to endear you to his character or to serve the scenes they’re in. The scenes would carry on just fine without them. He’s a fictional dragon, yes, but these details make him real.

Other personality tics you could include might be a character who gets frustrated with tedious things very quickly and starts making little inteligible curses under their breath. Or how they giggle when they’re excited and start bouncing on their toes. Maybe they have a tic where they snap their fingers when they’re concentrating, trying to will an idea into existence. Or they stick their tongue out while they work and get embarrassed when another character calls them on it. They roll around in their sleep, steal blankets, drool, leave dishes in the sink or are neurotic with how things must be organized. They have one CD in their car, and actually use that CD player instead of the phone jack or Bluetooth. They sing in the shower, while they cook, or while they do homework, no matter how grating their voice.

They like the smell of new shoes or Sharpies. They hate the texture of suede or velvet or sticky residues. They never pick their socks up. They hate the overhead light in their room and use 50 lamps instead. They hate turning into oncoming traffic or don’t trust their backup camera. They collect Funko Pops and insist there’s always room for more.

And about a million others.

Beliefs, Behaviors, and Superstitions

*If you happen to be writing a story where superstitions have merit, maybe skip this one.* Usually, inevitably, these evolve into character centerpieces and I can’t actually think of one off the top of my head that doesn’t become this beyond the ones we all know. A few comedic examples do come to mind:

The Magic Conch in “Club Spongebob” and the sea-bear-proof dirt circle in “The Camping Episode”

Dean Winchester’s fear and panic-driven actions in “Yellow Fever” and “Sam, Interrupted”

The references to the trolls that steal left-foot socks in How to Train Your Dragon

I’m not a fan of wasting time writing a religious character doing their religious thing when Plot Is Happening, but smaller things are what I’m talking about. Like them wearing a cross/rosary and touching it when they’re nervous. Having a specific off-beat prayer, saying, or expression because they don’t believe in cursing.

The classic ones like black cats, ladders, broken mirrors, salt, sidewalk cracks can all be funny. Athletes have plenty, too, and some of them, particularly in baseball culture, are a bit ridiculous. Not washing socks or uniforms, having a team idol they donate Double Bubble to and also rub their toes. A specific workout routine, diet, team morale dance.

Other things, too. A character who’s afraid to go back downstairs once the lights are off, or fear the basement or the backyard shed. Or they’re really put-off by this old family photo for no reason other than how glassy their eyes look and it’s creepy. They like crystals, dreamcatchers, star signs, tarot, or they absolutely do not under any circumstances.

They believe in all the tried and true ways of predicting the weather like a grizzled old sailor. They believe in ghosts, vampires, werewolves, witches, skinwalkers, doppelgangers, fairies. They talk to the cat statue in their kitchen and named it Fudge Pop. They whisper to the spirit that possessed the fridge so it stops making all that racket, and half the time, it works every time. They wear yellow for good luck or carry a rabbit’s foot. They’re not religious at all but still throw prayers out to whoever’s listening because, you know, just in case. They sit by their window sill and talk to the moon and the stars and pretend like they’re in a music video when they’re driving through the city in the rain.

Haptics, Proxemics, and Kinesics

These are, for all you non-communication and psych majors out there, touch and physical contact, how they move, and how they move around other people.

Behold, your shipping fodder.

Two shining examples of proxemics in action are the famous “close talker” episode of Seinfeld (of which every communication major has been subjected to) and Castiel’s not understanding of personal space (and human chronemic habits) in Supernatural.

These are how a character walks, if they’re flat-footed, clumsy, or tip-toers. If they make a racket or constantly spook the other characters. If they fidget or can’t sit still in a seat for five seconds, if they like to sit backwards or upside down. How they touch themselves, if they do a lot of self-soothing maneuvers (hugging themselves, rubbing their arms, touching their face, drawing their knees up, holding their neck, etc) or if they don’t do any self-soothing at all.

This is how they shake hands, if they dance while they cook or work. It’s how much space they let themselves take up, if they man-spread or keep their limbs in closer. How close they stand to others or how far. If they let themselves be touched at all, or if they always have their skin covered. If they always have their back to a wall,  or are always making sure they know where the nearest exit is. If they make grand gestures when they talk and give directions. If they flinch from pats on the back or raised hands. If they lean away from loud voices or project their own. If they use their height to their advantage when arguing, puff their chest, square their shoulders, put their hands on their hips, or point fingers in accusation.

If they touch other characters as they pass by. If they’re huggers or victims of falling asleep on or near their comrades. If they must sleep facing the door, or with something solid behind them. If they can sleep in the middle of a party wholly uncaring. If they sleepwalk, sleeptalk, migrate across the bed to cuddle whoever’s nearest with no idea they’re doing it.

If they like to be held or like to hold others. If they hate being picked up and slung around or are touch-starved for it. If they like their space and stick to it or are more than happy to share.

Do they walk with grace, head held high and back straight? Or are they hunched over, head hung, watching their feet? Are they meanderers or speed-walkers? Do they cross their arms in front or lace their hands behind them? Do they bow to authority or meet that gaze head on?

I have heard that Prince Zuko, in Last Airbender, is usually drawn sleeping with his bad ear down when he doesn’t feel safe, like on his warship or anywhere in the Fire Nation, or on the road. He’s drawn on his other side once he joins the Gaang. In Dead Man’s Chest, just before Davy Jones drives the Flying Dutchman under the waves, two tentacles curl up and around the brim of his hat to keep it from blowing off in the water.

When they fight, do they attack first, or defend first? Do they touch other characters’ hair? Share makeup, share clothes? Touch their faces with boops or bonks or nuzzles and eskimo kisses? Do they crack their knuckles and necks and knees?

Do they stare in baffled curiosity at all the other characters wholly comfortable in each other's spaces because they can’t, won’t, or don’t see the point in all this nonsense? Do they say they’re happy on the outside, but are betrayed by their body language?

Voice

Whether or not to write an accent is entirely up to you. Books like Their Eyes Were Watching God writes dialogue in a vernacular specific to its characters. Westerners and southerners tend to be written with the southern drawl or dialect, ripe with stereotypical contractions. Be advised, however, that in attempt to write an accent to give your character depth, you could be instead turning off your audience who doesn’t have energy to decipher what they’re saying, or you went and wrote a racist stereotype.

Voice isn’t just accent and dialect, nor is it how it sounds, which falls more solidly under useful character descriptions. Voice for the sake of humanizing your characters concerns how they talk, how they convey their thoughts, and how they become distinct from other characters in dialogue and narration.

If you’re writing a narrative that hops heads and don’t want to include a big banner to indicate who’s talking at any given time, this is where voice matters. It is, I think, the least appreciated of all the possible traits to pay attention to.

First person narrators have the most flexibility here because the audience is zero degrees removed from their first-hand experiences. Their personality comes through sharply in how they describe things and what they pay attention to.

But it’s also in what similes and metaphors they use. I read a book that had an average (allegedly straight) male narrator going off and describing colors with types of flowers, some I had to look up because I just don’t know those off the top of my head. My immediate thought was either this character is a poorly written gay, or he’s a florist. Neither (allegedly), the writer was just being too specific.

Do they have crutch words they use? like, um, actually, so…, uh

Or repeat exclamations specific to them? yikes, yowzers, jeepers, jinkies, zoinks, balls, beans, d’oh!

Or idioms they’re fond of? Like a bat out of hell. Snowball’s chance.

Do they stutter when they’re nervous? Do they lose their train of thought and bounce around, losing other characters in the process? Do they have a non-Christian god they pray to and say something other than “thank God”? Are they from another country, culture, time period, realm, or planet with their own gods, beliefs, and idioms?

When they describe settings, how flowery is the language? Would this grizzled war hero use flowery language? How would he or she describe the color pink, versus a PTA mom? Do they use only a generic “blue, green, red” or do they really pay attention with “aquamarine, teal, emerald, viridian, vermillion, rose, ruby”?

How do this character’s hobbies affect how well they can describe dance moves, painting styles, car models, music genres?

This mostly matters when you’re head-hopping and the voice of the narrator serves to be more distinct, otherwise, what’s the point of head-hopping? Just use third-person omniscient.

If you really want to go wild, give a specific narrator unique syntax. Maybe one character is the ghost of Oscar Wild with never-ending run-on sentences. Just be sure to not go too overboard and compromise the integrity of your story.

In the book A Lesson Before Dying, a somewhat illiterate, underprivileged and undereducated minor has been given a mentor, a teacher, before they face the death penalty. At the end of the book, you read all of the letters they wrote to their teacher. There’s misspellings everywhere, almost no punctuation, and long, rambling sentences.

It’s heartbreaking. The subject matter is heavy and horrible, yes, but it’s the choice to write with such poor English that has a much bigger impact than perfect MLA format.

How to implement these details

Most of these, in the written medium, need only show up once or twice before your audience notices and wonders why they’re there. Most fall squarely under character design, which falls under exposition, and should follow all the exposition guidelines.

These details exist to be random and fluffy, but they can’t exist randomly within the narrative. If you want to have your character be superstitious, pick a relevant time to include that superstition.

Others, like ongoing speech habits or movements, still don’t overuse, especially if they’re unique. A character might like to sit backwards in a chair, but if you mention that they’re doing it every single time they sit down, your audience will wonder what’s so important and if the character is unwell.

And, of course, you can let these traits become thematically important, like a superstition being central to their personality or backstory or motivation. These all serve the same purpose of making your character feel like a real person instead of just a “character”.

Just think about tossing in a few random details every now and then and see what happens. One tiny sentence can take a background character and make them candidates for the eventual fandom’s fan favorite. Details like these turn your work from “This a story, and these are the characters who tell it” into “these are my characters, and this is their story.”