#but the pain must go on or whatever that saying is

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: another week...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

When Bucky leaves, you feel less than relief. It’s easier to breathe without him around but your heart continues to race. You don’t move until you see him drive away. You steel yourself with the manufactured lie before you go back inside. 

As you do, you’re surprised to find Roxie beside your mom, both of them close to the front window. You sigh. Were they watching? You guess you can be thankful Bucky hadn’t done more than talk. 

Your mom faces you with a sheepish grin, “so... did you get it?” 

You look between her and your sister. Roxie has her phone in hand and an arch in her eyebrow, “I’d die for a boss like that.” 

“I...” you glance the screen before she can hide it. Oh. She had a picture of him pulled up on Google. So, they both know exactly who he is. 

“He must be really hands on if he came all the way down here to offer you a job,” Roxie tilts her head. 

“That’s the sign of a good boss,” your mom insists.  

“Really, I think his eyes were the kicker. So blue.” 

“Rox,” your mom nudges her. “A man like him, he’s got line ups, I’m sure. Besides, she’s too young for him.” 

“Well, I’m older,” Roxie smirks, “maybe she can get me a job too.” 

“Er, uh,” you wring your hands, “I should start dinner.” 

“You didn’t say if you go the job,” Roxie challenges. 

“Yeah,” you utter softly, “I got a job. Just cleaning.” 

“Hey, it’s better than nothing,” you mom assures as she comes to you. She puts her hands on your shoulders, “I’m so proud of you.” 

“Mom,” you try not to look pained as you return her smile, “it’s nothing. Really. A cleaner.” 

“We all gotta start somewhere.” 

“Yeah,” Roxie scoffs, “most of us a lot sooner.” 

“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” your mom lets you go to spin on your sister, “don’t rain on her parade.” 

“Whatever. I’d rather hand out flyers than clean toilets,” she rolls her eyes. 

You purse your lips and shy away. You feel worse that they believe you so easily and why wouldn’t they? No one would think that someone like you would merit such a preposterous offer from a man like Bucky. You still can’t really believe it. 

Maybe it’s just some twisted hallucination. You could wake up tomorrow and be just like you were before. You never thought you would long for that but now, being alone, being the loser, that feels safe. Being noticed, being someone, that’s terrifying. 

🃏

You take your time making dinner, a brief escape from reality. The distraction keeps you busy enough that your chest stops thrumming, yet your nerves are still spastic. You’re not very hungry once it’s done but you make yourself eat. 

Roxie heads off for work shortly after you gather up the dirty dishes and your mom goes to change into her pajamas. She startles you as you scour the pan you used to bake the chicken. You splash yourself and hiss. 

“Sorry, hon, I was just coming to check on you,” she leans against the counter, “you’re nervous, aren’t you?” 

You shrug, to fraught to answer. 

“You get restless, I can tell. You do everything just to keep from fidgeting,” she says, “it’s going to be okay. You’ll be just fine and you’ll see, it’ll be nice to have your own money.” 

“I know, mom,” you murmur, turning your face down to the sink, “it’s not that I don’t want to work, I just... I guess it’s the change that freaks me out.” 

“Change is good, even if it’s scary,” she says. “You’ll see.” 

“Mm,” you hum and try not to shatter, “I just want to help out.” 

“Hon, you worry about yourself. Please--” 

“No, I owe you.” 

“Owe me? I’m your mother. I just wish I could give you more,” she smiles and squeezes your arm. “If you’re not some busy working girl, we’ll celebrate on my day off.” 

“Sure,” you accept grimly. 

She leaves you and you’re silent as you finish up the dishes. You put them away and wipe the counters. When you finish, you shut off the lights. You say good night from the doorway and retreat into your room. Tomorrow. That’s all he said. That’s the only detail you go before he strolled off. 

You grab your phone and fall back on your bed. All you want is to lose yourself in a fic or a discussion board or even just scrolling mindlessly. You can’t. It’s like he’s taking over everything. There it is, that little icon you rarely see, a new message.  

You pull down the menu and stare at the preview. Two hours ago. You’re surprised he didn’t show up to check why you hadn’t answered. Again. You will at least need to send something before the night is over. 

‘Hey doll. I’ll send a car tomorrow morning at nine. Just bring yourself.’ 

You shudder and stare at the blue bubble around the text. Oof. Nine? That’s early for you. You suppose it’s about time you break that bad habit. 

‘Sorry. I was making dinner. Nine is good. Thank you.’ 

You hit send and put your phone down. You slide your laptop across the bed and open it up. You’ll watch something. That old BBC drama you found on the free streaming service has been pretty interesting, but you think you only have one episode left. That’s good, you can’t be up all night. 

Your phone buzzes. Shoot. Alright. You can do this. You have to get to it. You swipe up your phone again, surprised to find it’s still shaking.

Oh no. He’s calling! 

You panic and nearly hit decline before you manage to drag your thumb the other way. You put the phone to your ear, unable to muster even a squeak. What do you say? 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky’s voice drawls from the speaker, “hope I didn’t interrupt dinner.” 

“No, er, we’re done.” 

“Ah, and are you alone?” 

You frown, “yes?” 

“Good, good. Isn’t that sweet of you, cooking dinner for your family. That’s what I like about you. You take care of those you love.” 

You gulp. You don’t know what to say. 

“What was for dinner?” He asks as you hear a soft rustle. 

“Um, chicken and potatoes,” you answer bluntly. It’s an easy question. 

“You’re not busy or something?” He wonders. 

“Uh uh,” you shake your head even though he can’t see, “I’m just... in bed.” 

“Early night, huh?” He asks. 

“I guess, I was going to watch a show.” 

“Right, right,” he clicks his tongue as something taps followed by other indiscernible movements, “you in your pajamas? Bet those are cute?” 

“Not... yet,” you croak. 

“Mmm,” he purrs, “I just got out of the shower.” 

“You... did?” 

“Getting ready for tomorrow,” he explains, “gotta admit, I’m a bit impatient. You’ll see that about me, doll. When I want something, it’s hard to wait.” 

“Uh, oh...” you stutter out. 

“For you, I can,” he vows, “doll, do me a favour.” 

“A favour?” You echo thinly. 

“Mmm, yeah, I want you to get in your pajamas and send me a picture. Just to tide me over,” he coaxes. 

“A picture?” You open your eyes wide and gape at the wall. 

“Sure, just a taste. I wanna know what I should imagine next to me when I lay down.” 

“What?” You squeak, shocked by his insinuation. Imagining you?! 

“I can’t help myself. It’s lonely here.” 

“I...” you pick at your lower lip, “one sec. I... I gotta...” 

You put the phone on the bed and push yourself off the mattress. You trip on your own feet and hope he can’t hear you stumbling around. Your pajamas are kind of silly. You don’t really have any sexy ones. Maybe if he sees them, he’ll change his mind. 

The only matching pair you have have snoopy on the top and a large check bottom on the pants. You fish them out and change. It’s okay. He can’t see you at that moment. Still, it feels like he is watching you. Just as his presence has lurked around you all day. 

You go back to your phone and fumble around, “sorry, I... just... figuring out the camera.” 

You hear his timbre but can’t make out his words from the small speaker. You open the camera app and flip the camera. You move around, trying to take the pic, and lean the phone on the top of your dress. You angle it and mutter to yourself as you struggle to set the timer. 

You take several pictures before you’re not entirely discontent. You look awkward in all of them. The pants, like all your pants, are too long and gather around your feet. You don’t know how to pose either. Quite frankly, you look frightened in every single one. 

“Alright, I think...” you babble and find your way into the conversation and choose the least egregious frame. You hesitate and close your eyes as you push your thumb down on the arrow. 

You bring the phone back to your ear, “are you still there?” 

“Always, doll,” he assures and once more, the phone shifts around noisily. “Mm, Snoopy? I like it. More of a Woodstock myself but... Mm mm mm, you look good.” He pauses as you wriggle and your cheeks burn hotly. “Sexy.” 

“No,” you burst out without thinking. 

“No? You don’t think I’m telling the truth?” 

“I didn’t... say so, it’s... just pajamas,” you sniff, “sorry, I didn’t mean to argue.” 

“Doll, relax. Thing about you, you don’t even have to try.” 

You don’t reply. You have no idea what to say or even if you should believe him. You saw the picture, you look in the mirror every day, you know what you are. It still feels like some weird game. 

“Here, gimme a sec,” he says from his end. 

More rustling and the noise of a digital shutter. Your phone vibes shortly and you pull it away from your cheek. You squint at the screen as it lights up and an image buffers in the conversation. 

“Huh, uh, it’s not loading. My phone is--” you nearly swallow your tongue and gasp. 

Oh gosh. It’s a picture of him in almost nothing. Just a towel. His long hair is damp and pushed back and his dark beard contrasts his bright blue eyes as he aims the lens of his phone at himself in the mirror. His stomach is ridged with muscle, his chest trimmed with hair that trails down, and the towel hangs low, giving a generous hint of his pelvis. The vee above the fabric feels overly salacious. 

“Doll?” You hear the low tone of his voice and make yourself look away. You raise the phone again to your ear. “Everything okay? You got really quiet.” 

“I...” 

“You like what you see?” He asks coyly. 

You put your hand to your forehead, your flesh is fiery. It’s so much so fast. Just that morning, you’d convinced yourself you would never see or talk to him again. And now he’s sending you pictures like that and... flirting with you? 

“Yes,” you eke out then cover your mouth. He snickers and you clear your throat before you peel your hand away, “sorry, I mean... you’re... you... you must work out.” 

“Doll, you’re too adorable,” he says. 

You don’t say a word. You’re mortified. He knew you saw that. He knows you’ve seen him like that. He sent it! 

It’s all too much. You’re lightheaded. You rub your chin and shiver. 

“I should... sleep.” 

“Mm, me too,” he says, “hopefully I dream of you.” 

You giggle nervously, “really?” 

“Sure, doll. All I can do is dream. Until tomorrow,” he sighs, “and what about you? You gonna dream about me?” 

You squeak and stammer, “I... I... I...” 

He laughs again, “you really are so cute in those pajamas.” 

“Please,” you blurt out, “delete it.” 

“Now, why would I do that?” He challenges. 

“I don’t... know.” 

“I love it,” he insists, “you’re not deleting mine, are you?” 

“N-no, no, I’ll keep it.” 

“Hm, good,” he intones, “it’s all for you so don’t you go showing me off to all your friends.” 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Promise, I won’t.” If only he knew you don’t have any friends to show. 

[alottiegoingon]

hc!friends to lovers

natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

summary: going from friends to lovers with nat

warnings: golden retriever gf x black cat gf dynamic, nat is secretly a softie, drugs and mommy/daddy issues mentions, cursing, pure fluff, not proofread

𖧊 to this day, nat still has no idea on how you two became friends. you were too different

𖧊 it started with you complimenting her makeup once and she was so rude cause she thought you were making fun of her

𖧊 “your eyeliner is so pretty,” you tried to be nice just to receive a “fuck off” and a middle finger right to your face. you were flabbergasted! you were just trying to be nice to a pretty blonde girl and now you were her enemy?

𖧊 your huge smile disappeared in seconds and when nat realized you weren’t mocking her, she got desperate. “oh, shit. you were actually serious?”

𖧊 she was constantly being slutshamed and harassed by the mean students and the idea of being complimented by you didn’t even make it to her head

𖧊 you were too sweet for her taste. too smiley, too happy, too soft and too excited. her words, not mine. but damn, you were pretty

𖧊 not that she would ever tell you that, but being friends with you was better than spending her days alone or with the other two guys she had for friends but were nothing but drug buddies

𖧊 “dude, what the fuck is that?” she grunts at the second you show her one of your favorite songs by backstreet boys “it’s so cheesy!”

𖧊 you held her arms and made her dance with you and she was so embarrassed and tried to brush it off by complaining a lot but her eyes didn’t lie. she kinda enjoyed that

𖧊 then, late at night when she’s unable to sleep, she secretly listen to the too happy and annoying shit type of songs you liked just to think of you :(

𖧊 she eventually found herself enjoying the cranberries, spice girls and lots of your catchy pop or soft songs while doing chores and would never forgive herself for that

𖧊 at first, nat was easily annoyed by you. by your overwhelming enthusiasm and positivity and how you would always see the good in others even if they didn’t deserve

𖧊 however, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t speak up for her. if anyone was caught talking shit about nat, you were always the first one to have her back. “excuse me? hi. that’s my friend you are talking about and you might wanna apologize to her right now!”

𖧊 bless your heart you really tried to be scary like her. at least the intention was there right

𖧊 “i don’t need you to defend me,” she was already snarling at you but you could see in her eyes that she didn’t mean that. she just didn’t like being vulnerable in front of others

𖧊 nat was tough, she could take care of herself. you knew that but you couldn’t let anyone be mean to her

𖧊 “i know, but i care about you!” “yeah, whatever 🙄🙂”

𖧊 and it worked the other way around as well. a single threatening glance of nat was enough to make anyone scared of even saying your name. yes, you were a pain in her ass but she was the only one who could say that

𖧊 “but you just said she was annoying,” her friend kevin defends himself from her scary look. “don’t call her that, asshole”

𖧊 nat couldn’t invite you over to her house trailer so you would usually hang out at your house or secret places she knew

𖧊 nat is a really lonely and independent person and that’s a consequence of her unstable childhood. running away from the mess she had for parents, she eventually discovered a nice small park with pretty trees around and thought it would be the perfect hiding spot

𖧊 smoking with nat? obviously a must. you would give her the old speech saying that it was terrible for her physical and mental health (🤓☝️) even if you were 100% sure that she wasn't listening and was just giving you ironic commments. "you don't say, princess"

𖧊 deep down, very deep down, she appreciated you

𖧊 “kevin told me he caught you listening to backstreet boys yesterday” you smile at her, watching her messy bleached hair cover half of her face as she smokes

𖧊 “fucking kevin,” she mutters under her breath and it’s the perfect opportunity to play around with her. “aren’t you gonna deny it? wow, you must really like me, nat”

𖧊 “shut up, princess.”

𖧊 it was meant to be ironic but since the first time she called you that, you two were sure that it was nothing but a caring nickname and you were a complete sucker for it

𖧊 spending time together became a casual thing and as essential as breathing. that didn’t go unnoticed

𖧊 showing up to support her on a game day or just practice, holding a big sign with her name written with gliter gel pens and smiley faces and cheering so loud that people near you had to cover their ears

𖧊 thanks to that, she was so flustered that couldn't focus on the actual game

𖧊 classically, the yellowjackets would always make fun of her when you were around but especially when you weren’t. “are you happy that your girlfriend came to see you today?” van teases nat and suddenly she became their favorite subject to talk about

𖧊 “she’s not my fucking girlfriend!” she flips them off and storms off to hide how unbelievably red her cheeks were

𖧊 nat didn't take long to realize she felt different about you. but her doing your eyeliner to match her after you insisted didn't help. it was pretty hard to mantain her toughness when you were lying in bed with her on top, straddling you with face so close that you could smell the blunt in her breath

𖧊 "thanks, nat. what do you think?" you ask when she's done

𖧊 "not bad. thanks to me, obviously," she acts casually but she's like 🧍🏼‍♀️😊😮‍💨😵 seeing you with her goth ass makeup

𖧊 being jealous of you near anyone who would say hi to you was also a clear sign

𖧊 going from friends to lovers with nat would be something hard for her at first. she isn't used to trusting people that much. loving someone? what was she thinking?!

𖧊 this means that she would definitely push you away, intentionally or not, and would act weird for days until you finally confronted her

𖧊 and she tries to be rude to make you leave but it doesn’t work. eventually she opens up about her feelings, shaking and at the verge of tears, and you hug her tightly

𖧊 “i like you too, nat”

𖧊 holds your chin when kissing you 😵‍💫

𖧊 jealous girlfriend that was always there to keep an eye on you but wouldn’t say the words “i’m jealous” even if her life depended on it

𖧊 dating nat meant her having part time jobs to save money for weeks just to buy you something nice for your birthday or to take you to a special place in a special occasion. you cried like a baby

𖧊 you were aware that she struggled with money and you weren't rich either, so you kept things discreet. you would come to her with a tape with lots of songs that reminded you of her, "nat, you won't believe what i made you!"

𖧊 “i have no idea, baby..." but she definitely did cause you would do that at least twice a month

𖧊 she would be the first one to say “i love you” accidentally and got so stressed trying to fix her mistake with a cough but you had heard her and was freaking out, smile from ear to ear

𖧊 “you’re a moron, i love you” it took her five seconds to go from 😁 to 😧

𖧊 “i love you too.”

𖧊 when it comes to affection, i feel like she would be hesitant at first, not knowing what to do. having sex with random people was really different from wanting to show her love for you, it was harder

𖧊 realistically, nat wouldn't be the touchy type. she never really experienced affection from her parents (at least not in a long time), so it would be something new, but wouldn't be opposed to it once she realized how comforting it felt

𖧊 100% touch starved. you stroke her cheek once and she's tearing up already

𖧊 pretends to be bothered but always melts completely when you kiss her and loves to hold hands and intertwine fingers

𖧊 not everything was perfect and sharing feelings wasn’t easy for her. either way, you were always there for her, listening to her talk about her shitty parents or just comforting her after a bad day

BONUS!!!

𖧊 if the iconic barbie movie was released in the 90s, you would BEG her to wear pink clothes to go to the movies together and she would deny it every single time

𖧊 “but it would be so cute! we would match 🥺” you insisted, knowing that she was so close to cave in

𖧊 “it’s gonna make me look stupid, i don’t wear pink. quit it, princess,” nat nods, convinced that you would eventually forget about it

𖧊 a week later, nat is found at the movie theater looking like a damn flamingo

𖧊 “what happened to you? met an unicorn on the way here?” shauna mocks her as soon as she sees the blondie wearing a bright pink suit and black boots, matching your same color dress

𖧊 “shut up,” she gives them her middle finger

𖧊 “happy wife, happy life,” tai murmurs and she just nods, defeated. shauna, tai and van, all in pink thanks to your incessant pleas, followed her to get the tickets while you and jackie were excitedly buying snacks and pink popcorn containers shaped like barbie’s car

𖧊 (she definitely cried at the end and you had to kiss her tears away)

[misshoneyimhome]

「5️⃣0️⃣0️⃣ FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION」

Making up after a break up I Nico Hischier ⚡️🔥🌺5️⃣0️⃣0️⃣

Summary; Nico Hischier is undeniably a gifted hockey player. However, amidst the fame and great attention, he must remain grounded and attentive to those who love and support him.

Tropes & warnings; established relationship; break-up to make-up; Smut 18+; fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside;

Other notes; Please, don't ask me why reader always has to fight with Nico 🙈 I blame the prompts 🤍 I know, my so-called "angst" is just a poor as my summaries - nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this ❤️

Word count; 4.1K

Taglist; @couldawouldashoulda50 @findapenny@justwanderingbutneverlost @cixrosie

・✶ ｡ﾟ

"I’m sorry, but it’s not like I can control it. It’s part of the job!" Nico's voice was louder than usual, his frustration evident as he stood in the spacious living room, fists clenched at his sides.

The atmosphere in your apartment was thick with tension, as your boyfriend, Nico Hischier, had just come home after the New Jersey Devils were eliminated in the first round of the playoffs. A game where you should have been there to comfort and support him, but tonight, all you felt was anger and frustration.

"Well, you don’t exactly have to encourage it either!" you shot back, your voice rising to match his. The argument was heated, and a part of you knew it was reaching a point where there was no going back. The faces of the women who constantly surrounded your boyfriend were still vivid in your mind, and you just couldn’t push them away and let it go.

"It's not my fault that you’re just jealous," Nico then retorted, his eyes narrowing as he stared at you. You could sense how frustrated he was as well, and both of you sensed that this fight would not end well.

"Oh, I’m sorry that I love my boyfriend and want to spend time with him! Please excuse me for caring!" The words came out sharper than you intended, but you were beyond caring at this point. All the pent-up emotions of the past several months were pouring out, and everything was boiling over.

Your heartbeat quickened with every passing moment, coupled with a high pulse and tears pressing on, yet you were determined not to let them show. You were not going to let him win this. 

But then the words Nico thought, but didn’t intend to speak, blurted out before he could stop them. "Well, maybe it would be a lot easier if I wasn’t your boyfriend then." His expression shifted, hardening.

The room fell into a stunned silence. It felt as if the air had been sucked out of the space, leaving you both gasping for breath as the words hung between you, sharp and final.

"You really mean that?" you asked, your voice now lower and trembling. Despite the heat of the argument, something within you hoped he would take it back, say something to reassure you. But he just stood there, silent, and resolute. So, you took a deep breath, silently giving him another chance to say something, while a tear trailed down your cheek. "Fine," you then finally spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "If that's how you feel, then maybe we shouldn't be together."

Nico's eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place—regret, anger, sorrow, or maybe something else entirely. But still he said nothing, and that silence was more painful than any words could have been.

So, without another word said, you turned and walked to the bedroom, grabbing a bag, and stuffing it with whatever clothes and essentials you could find. You just needed to get out, to be anywhere but here.

And as you left the apartment, you glanced back at Nico one last time. But still he was just stood there, looking lost and defeated. But more importantly, he didn't stop you, and that hurt more than anything else.

The next few days were a blur of tears, anger, and regret. You replayed the fight in your head over and over, wondering how it had come to this. You had stood by Nico through everything—the gruelling travel schedule, the constant media attention, the physical toll of his sport. But the jealousy, the feeling of being second to his career and the women who flocked to him, had been too much.

You had tried to rationalise it. You knew Nico couldn't always help the attention he received. He was a professional athlete, a public figure after all, but the way he seemed to bask in it, the way he never turned it down—that had been the breaking point. You had wanted to feel special, to feel like you were the one who mattered most to him. Instead, you had felt like just another fan in the stands, easily replaceable. Like a groupie he’d occasionally sleep with – and even that, he didn’t do with you.

So, as you sat in your new, temporary home, staring at the blank walls, the realisation hit you. Despite the hurt and humiliation, despite how shattered you felt, you still loved him. And that was the most painful part of all.

But for now, you had to focus on picking up the pieces of your life. Maybe in time, things would change. Maybe Nico would come to his senses, or maybe you would find the strength to move on. Either way, you knew you had to find yourself again, to remember who you were without him, and only then could you decide what your future would hold.

_

The months following the breakup were incredibly tough. To be honest, they were horrible. It felt like your heart had been torn in two and clumsily put back together, yet the shattered glass left by the breakup couldn't be hidden. You had to live with the cracks in the foundation, hoping that over time, they’d slowly fade and become less painful. Or perhaps one day, you’d grow so accustomed to the pain that you wouldn’t feel it anymore.

The worst part, however, was that it was nearly impossible to avoid Nico, especially since your social circles overlapped so much. Friends' gatherings and small post-season team events turned into emotional minefields. Every encounter tested your resolve, challenging you to maintain the façade of being cool and collected. And as you tried your best to move on, Nico did the same, each of you masking your hurt with smiles and casual conversations.

Yet, every time you saw him, a pang of sadness struck you, which was even worse when you noticed the regret in his eyes, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention, making it clear he was hurting too.

To your great luck though, during the rest of the off-season, Nico then went back to Switzerland, and you thought the distance might help you heal. However, to your own great surprise, his absence only made your heartache more pronounced. The reality of the breakup sank in deeper, and you spent many nights questioning your decision, wondering if things could have been different.

Meanwhile, Nico was undergoing his own transformation. Conversations with some of the other players and their partners opened his eyes to the truth he’d been avoiding. They told him about the worries you’d shared with them months before the breakup, how you’d tried to brush off your insecurities and jealousy but eventually couldn’t bear it any longer. And hearing this from others slowly made him realise just how much he’d taken your love and support for granted and how blind he’d been to your feelings.

One evening, after a particularly enlightening conversation with a teammate’s partner, Nico sat alone in his apartment, replaying the last few months in his mind. He knew he’d been enjoying the attention from the media and fans, perhaps a little too much, and the attention he’d received from women had gone to his head. All the flirtatious looks, the light touches on his arm as they complimented his play—it had made him feel invincible, more important than just a captain to his team, but it had also blinded him to what was truly important—you.

He remembered the countless nights you’d stayed up late to greet him after a game, the way you always had a kind word or a comforting touch, even when you were exhausted from your own long day. He thought about the times you’d been at his side during his high moments and the times you’d held him through the lows. And as he lay alone, letting the memories flood his mind, he realised he’d never reciprocated that level of devotion. He’d been so wrapped up in his career and the attention that came with it that he’d failed to see how it was affecting you.

So, in the weeks that followed, Nico found himself reaching out to friends and family for advice. He spoke to his parents, who reminded him of the values they had instilled in him—humility, respect, and gratitude. They encouraged him to think deeply about what he wanted in life and who he wanted to share it with.

And back in New Jersey, you were on your own journey of self-discovery. You reconnected with old friends, picked up hobbies you had abandoned, and spent time reflecting on what you wanted from a relationship. 

Then as summer slowly turned to autumn, you found yourself feeling stronger and more centred. You began to enjoy your own company and rediscovered passions that had been side-lined during your time with Nico. And while the pain of the breakup still lingered, it no longer dominated your every thought.

_

It all seemed to be going just well, but with the new season just around the corner, the team had organised a big event with partners to celebrate. And naturally, you were invited.

You hesitated at first, unsure if you were ready to face Nico in such a social setting – and single. But after some encouragement from your best friends, you decided to attend. So, you dressed carefully, wanting to look your best and show that you were doing just fine, even if your heart still ached at the thought of him.

The venue was buzzing with excitement, filled with the familiar faces of the team and their partners, all laughing and chatting. With a drink in your hand for comfort, you did your best to mingle and immerse yourself in the event, though it was hard to ignore the knot in your stomach. Especially when you saw Nico walk in with a date, casing your heart to sink. Yet, you forced a smile, determined not to let it ruin your evening.

You tried to act mature and collected, however, you still spent most of the night avoiding him, keeping to the far side of the room whenever he was near. You focused on chatting with friends, laughing at their jokes, and even indulging in a few more drinks to steady your nerves. But as the night slowly wore on, fate had other plans. And as you stepped into the hallway to catch your breath from the loud, wonderful atmosphere, you nearly collided with Nico, coming face close to his chest.

"Oh, hey," he said, looking as surprised as you felt.

"Hi," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady as you stood up straight. 

There was an awkward silence, the air thick with unspoken words between you, with only the cheerful noises of the event in the background humming. But then finally, Nico broke the silence.

"How have you been?" His voice was low and timid, yet you sensed the emotions he was trying to hide.

"Alright, I suppose," you said softly, trying your best not to let the stirring sensation within you surface. But as he just stood there, saying nothing else, and you noticed his date chatting with Timo in the background, you couldn’t help but let out a comment. "But apparently not as good as you…"

Nico immediately caught the direction of your eyes, turned for a brief moment before looking back at you. And it seemed as if that had pushed a button within him.

"Come on, Y/N… I know I said the final words, but you wanted to break up with me," he said, his voice tinged with frustration, as his eyes starred directly into yours. 

"Yes, because I was mad at you, not because I stopped loving you,” you said, more firmly than intended, crossing your arms defensively. The words came out quickly and before you could stop them, your emotions almost bubbling to the surface.

"What?" Nico's eyes widened, a small flicker of hope in his gaze. “You still love me?”

You were slightly baffled by his question. 

"Of course, I still love you..." you then replied, your voice softening as you let out a deep sigh, though unable to hold back the tear welling in the corner of your eye. “Nico, all I wanted was for you to love me… to show me you cared…”

“But I do care,” he quickly responded, almost blurting it out reflexively. Nico just couldn’t hide the fact that he’d been missing you deeply, despite his best efforts through the night. “Y/N, I love you more than anyone… none of them matter to me… I swear…”

And it was in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. As you both stood there, you slowly came to realise that the feelings between you had never really disappeared. 

But with the defensive walls you’d built over the past couple of months, you tried to walk away to gather your thoughts. You didn’t want to allow yourself to be vulnerable, risking get hurt all over again. However, Nico was quick and grabbed your hand, pulling you back towards him. 

And before you could react, his lips were on yours, the kiss passionate and intense.

You tried to push him away, anger still lingering from the past within. But Nico's grip just tightened, pulling you closer to him. And as much as you wanted to resist the temptation, you couldn't deny how much you had missed him. So, with a sigh, you simply surrendered to the kiss.

You felt a flood of emotions as the kiss deepened, all the hurt and longing pouring out. It was just like coming home after being lost for so long, feelings of warmth and comfort embracing you. And when you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, staring at each other with a mixture of surprise and relief.

"Come with me," Nico whispered against your lips, your breaths mixing in the small space between you. 

“What about your date?” you asked under your breath, still gasping for air. 

But Nico just curved a little smirk at the corner of his lips. “Doesn’t matter – Timo can show her out… you’re more important now…”

And you couldn’t help but simply nod, your heart pounding as you stood so closely with the man, you’d long believed to be the love of your life. “Alright…”

“Let’s get out of here then.”

Nico didn’t even let you breathe and respond to his suggestion. Instead, you both just quickly excused yourselves from the event, following his footsteps out into the cool night air and swiftly into his car. The ride to his place was a blur, both of you eager to be alone as the magnetic force between only grew stronger and more intense by the second. And as soon as you walked through the door to the apartment you once called home, he quickly pulled you into another fervent kiss, his hands roaming your body, desperate to make up for lost time.

And you were equally eager to feel Nico against you. Everything about him felt like comfort and home - his touch so familiar, and the connection between you natural and effortless. So, neither of you wasted any time, your hands moving under each other's clothing, eager to undress and let your skin touch.

Though you had done this so many times in the past, tonight felt different. It was as if you’d fallen in love anew, and this was the first time you were allowing yourselves to feel each other. Yet, everything went by pure instinct. Both of you knew exactly which buttons to push, and before long, you were back in sync; Nico’s lips were attached to yours at all times as you both climbed under the sheets into missionary position, consumed by lust and desire, exploring each other.

And while engaged in a heated kiss, your tongues dancing with one another, your hand found his hardening member, stroking it gently to get it fully hard and ready. Meanwhile, Nico’s skilled fingers found their way to your core, gently caressing your folds and sensitive flesh as he alternated between paying attention to your clit and delicately probing your entrance.

Soft moans escaped you both, humming into the kiss and letting out deep breaths when you needed to part to regain air. The room was hot, filled with the smell of sex, and despite how good the gentle touch of his hand felt, you craved more. And fortunately, Nico didn’t keep you waiting long.

“Oh yes,” you breathed out as he eased two fingers inside you, gently stretching and massaging your walls. It was just as you remembered, the curve of his thick fingers easily seeking out your sensitive spot as he pumped them in and out. And as you felt the pleasure starting to build within you, your hands instinctively sought the back of his shoulders to grab on to for support.

Yet, it still wasn’t enough. Though Nico was skilled with his fingers, there was something you desired more. “Nico, baby… I want…” you moaned softly under your breath, letting the pleasure slowly consume your mind. “I want you inside me.”

However, as much Nico felt his cock pulsating, in desperate need of release, he also wanted to make sure you felt so good before he gave in to his own desires. Just like he always did. 

So, leaning in closely to your face, his breath so near your ear you could feel the shiver it sent down your spine, he spoke huskily, “Let me make you come first.” 

And you couldn’t say no to that.

So, letting him work his magic, you simply allowed yourself to relax into the mattress, your hands still holding tightly onto his shoulders as he increased the speed of his pumps. And at this point, you simply stopped holding back your noises, letting the pleasure take over and closing your eyes as he pushed you closer to the brink of climax.

“Fuck baby… missed your moans so much,” Nico complimented, his eyes intensely watching you squirm and whimper under his touch, your core getting wetter with each motion.

“Mmm yes…” was all you could moan, as the orgasm approached, your toes curling as your mind became hazier.

And as soon as Nico felt your muscles clenching around his fingers, he knew you were close. Knowing just how to bring you to that blissful peak, he scissored his digits at just the right angles, causing you to let out a louder moan and your body to lightly tremble.

"Fuck yes!" you gasped for air as the climax took over. Your walls tightened, sending your mind into a high, your juices spraying just enough to cover Nico’s fingers and hand as you arched your back, savouring the moment the orgasm took hold.

It felt nothing short of amazing. And despite Nico having done this so many times before, this felt heavenly, almost like a drug you’d been addicted to, gone through rehab, and now were back reaching the high you’d been longing for.

And as you lay there, slowly coming down from the high Nico had caused you, you couldn’t help but smile. "Oh… how I missed your touch," you almost cried, a whimper of pleasure escaping as you let out a deep breath.

Leaning over to place a tender kiss on your lips, Nico let out a dark chuckle. "Oh, I’ve missed playing with your body as well, baby..."

There was a momentary pause as he delicately withdrew his fingers, allowing your centre to relax. But with his pulsating cock proudly hard and eager, Nico wasted little time before gently guiding the tip against your entrance and effortlessly sliding himself inside you.

"Oh, yes..." he moaned deeply, savouring the comforting warmth of your inner walls, embracing him snugly as he gradually delved deeper into your depths.

Nico was convinced that your bodies were made for each other. Always had been and always would be. No woman before you had ever felt so seamlessly connected to his own, and he couldn’t imagine sharing this intimacy with any other woman in the future.

Though the position was simple, your bodies moved in harmony, his hips meeting yours with each thrust as moans reverberated and pearls of sweat formed on your skin. There was simply no greater pleasure than this reunion, where heartfelt emotions flowed freely after being pent up for so long.

And when you timidly suggested a change in position, indicating a desire to be on top, Nico swiftly flipped you both over, bodies still intertwined as you established a steady rhythm, rolling your hips as you rode him towards his own climax.

It was sheer perfection. Your hands instinctively found their place on his muscular chest for support, while his palms rested on your hips, gently guiding your movements to increase the pace slightly. And you complied willingly. Sensing your second orgasm approaching, you eagerly quickened your pace, releasing intense, deep breaths as you pressed your knees into the mattress, driving your movements with determination.

And Nico was nearing his peak as well. The tightness around his eager shaft, combined with the sight of your naked form above him and the melody of your moans, propelled him closer with each passing moment. Then acting on pure instinct, he swiftly pulled himself up to a sitting position, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss while his hand found its way into your hair, maintaining a firm grip around your neck. Pressing his forehead against yours, he held your face close to his, sharing breaths as his eyes locked onto yours.

"Never letting you go again... ever..." he growled softly, his climax imminent.

And equally on the edge, you responded with a simple vow. "Never..." you murmured, your hands returning to his shoulders for support as you maintained the intense rhythm.

With his other hand bracing behind him to steady himself, Nico instinctively tilted his hips upward slightly, just enough to stimulate your G-spot and draw a soft whimper of pleasure from you.

"Yes, oh yes... Nico... I'm gonna... gonna come..." you cried softly; your eyes almost unable to stay open as you rocked each other's worlds.

"Ja, schätzi... come for me... come with me now!" he urged, his voice filled with passion.

And it didn’t take much longer for both of you to unleash deep, resounding moans, waves of pleasure engulfing you as you soared into ecstasy together. Like often before, Nico released his cum into your depths, your walls eagerly tightening around his sensitive member, as your juices blended. It was perhaps the most intense orgasm you'd ever experienced, fuelled by the fiery passion and longing for Nico’s touch once more.

As the pent-up tension, anger, and frustrations from months past finally dissipated, you allowed yourselves to remain connected, slowly descending from the peak of ecstasy. It took a moment, the intensity lingering as both of you were deeply overwhelmed, and only gradually regaining control of your breath, your lungs filled with air and your minds cleared, your gaze met in a somewhat hazy stare, and a smile of pure bliss creeping onto your lips.

It was an exquisite sensation. Even as you slowly disentangled yourselves, a sense of euphoria enveloped you, finding solace in the pillow beneath your head as Nico did the same. For several minutes, your eyes remained locked, no words exchanged, the intensity of your passion simply speaking volumes.

And after the fervent lovemaking, you found yourself nestled in his arms, your head resting against his chest, right where you belonged. For the first time in a while, a sense of tranquillity washed over you, while Nico's fingers gently traced patterns on your skin, a serene smile gracing his lips.

"Nico," you then softly broke the comfortable silence. "Are you sure this is what you want?" you asked tentatively, needing reassurance. “To get back together…” 

But Nico had no doubts. Feeling your presence again was something he had yearned for deeply, and now, he was determined never to risk losing you ever again. "More than anything," he replied earnestly, his voice brimming with sincerity. "I know I messed up before, but I won't make that mistake again. I love you, and I want us to be together."

And as you looked up at him, you only saw truth in his eyes. "I love you too, Nico. And I want us to be together as well, but we need to work on this, to make sure we don't fall into the same patterns."

He gently nodded. "I know. We'll take it one step at a time. But I promise, I'll do everything I can to make this right."

And as you snuggled closer, you felt a sense of hope. The road ahead wouldn't necessarily be easy, but for the first time in a while, you felt like you were on the right path. And with Nico by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way. 

[i-yap]

Hi Lovely,

I don’t know if your requests are open but I thought I’d try my luck. My cat died today and I’m really upset, I was hoping you could do hurt/comfort hcs with Jason (and maybe platonic Damian as he’s the big animal lover)?

Thank you x

Hey im so sorry for your loss man. even the dog in my dp has now passed away and he was my baby and I get how painful it is. I still miss him everyday and refuse to have any account picture without him . Just really take the time to heal and don't let any idiot tell you that yourent supposed to feel sad about a pet passing because honestly I loved my pet more than my brother and I'm sure that cat was loved and lived a great life.

Also my requests are always open I love writing them

Jason Todd x reader x platonic damian- When your cat dies

comfort, angst

It was expected almost, they were just so old and the visits to the vet had become more frequent. It seemed like they was in pain, and that hurt you so much that you wondered if maybe it was for the best. But your heart didn't let you accept that, they were your baby and you cant just accept loosing them like that.

So there you sat , on the sofa, clutching Jason while you sobbed. He sat silently, holding you to him firmly. He had already texted Bruce / militia saying he wont be In that night or as longs as you needed.

Jason isnt the best at comforting words , but there are no words to be said. What jason is good at though is validating your feelings. Even though he has limited interactions with your cat, he could see how deeply you cared for it.

So when your tears start to dry and you pull away from his chest he gently rubs away the remaining tears. He picks you up and carries you to the kitchen counter. Sets a pot of boiling water to make your favorite noodles/ tea depending on when you last ate. He then walks to the freezer and holds an ice pack in his hands . After a couple second he places his cold hands on your poofy tear stained cheeks .

"Im sorry to have burdened you, you dont cry when you've been shot and here I am crying over some cat . You don't have to stay, you must think Im so weak" you say softly feelings the tears starting to well up from the gentle way jason's treating you.

" No No I will hear none of that. How dare you think you are weak. I admit I don't know how to comfort you ..i never really got attached to a lot of things. But I love this about you, the way you love so much and so unconditionally. And the way you hurt for someone ..that's the real show of love. If the roles were switched, would you think I'm a burden? no right? So why would you assume I would? i want to be here for you, whatever you need whenever you need."

" you are doing really well so far"

the doorbell rings and Jason goes to open it.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE DEVIL SPAWN"

"Shut it todd, I'm here to see y/n."

"And why should I let you see her?"

"Because I know her cat died and I know you are incapable of comforting her since you have never felt an ounce of love for anything"

"I LOVE Y/N?? ALSO HOW WOULD YOU KNOW THAT- wait you hacked something didn't you?"

"Bruce informed me you would be staying in tonight andI have trackers placed on you and y/n and saw you driving to and from the vet , also Y/n hadn't logged into her work account. Even you would have been able to deduce that y/n needs me right now" says Damian matter of factly.

"dont be rude todd, let dami in" you say getting off the kitchen counter. You go over to shake dami's hand but he pulls you into a hug. You and todd exchange confused glances.

" I apologize for your loss y/n, if anything happened to my pets I would stab todd and then burn down a civilization" Dami's voice muffled from your clothes.

"WHY STAB ME"

"because you probably had something to do with it, You are very affection hungry when it comes to y/n"

"WHA-" "I agree with dami" "WHa-is that a backpack Demon spawn?"

"Yes , i will be spending the night here watching some "feel-good movies as she says it with y/n, I cant leave her in the hands of a barbarian now can I"

"I WAS TAKING CARE OF HER JUST FINE" shouts jason mock angrily, after all he understands how Damian and Y/n share a bond when it comes to their pets.

"Be happy I didnt tell the rest of the bats todd" " thank god for that"

You pull Dami in and fall asleep cuddled between your two amazing and caring boys, knowing that your cat was loved and spent their last moments knowing there were people in this world who will cry once they leave.

I hope this was okay , there weren't A lot of headcanons ..

[danmeiconfession]

I gotta say the callous attitudes of the Peaklord to go behind SQQ back to discuss his qi deviation and theorizing maybe Possession took place and when that became clear it was not they just did not continue to look further because they like the pretty outer shell of nice SQQ because then it would make them ask what make their shixiong so prickly and what his issues were that maybe it ran deep because how else is he so different otherwise?

 No one thinks of: what if this SQQ wishes to remember? I read once in a fic, and I found it very just, a Lan Zhan amnesiac who says that even if it were painful experiences (33 lashes and 13 years of mourning) they were part of him, that they were dear to him even if painful.

I think that even if SJ hated to have lived what he lived, he did not want to forget he did not want to forget Qi-ge, his fiancée, the courtesans of the brothel, all the women who were nice to him,… or his life, who he is. And who he is with unpleasant experiences: rapes without doubt, abuse, a life without a parent, a feeling of abandonment, the fact that he never felt at home in Qing Jing, that he was not loved by his martial brothers and sisters, betrayal ... and also with things he did.

it's not something they have to decide. If SY were SJ it would be up to SY and SY alone to decide if "something must be done" and if He have to “stay that way.”

I also think that although the peak lords may be right to not appreciate SJ, they never tried to get along with him either. I always found LQG to be very contemptuous without knowing (like all peak lords)

Like it sucks cause they should have talked with him in person your memories what youve gone through as a person and when it comes to his trauma all the girls he put his head down for a nice nap, Qiu Hatiang, Yue Qingyuan "betrayal" all the shit that went down makes him who he is as Shen jiu. They don't talk to him and ask if he wants to look deeper into his memories like they disregard their martial brother who I get they dislike but it makes them scummier in my eyes because wtf they barley even tried ?

Like if it were any of the Peaklords take LQG for instance they would have tried their hardest to get his memories but because their SQQ is more presentable and make them feel more comfortble is disgusting cause they disregard his autonomy.

Who we are is made up of our memories and how our past experiences have led to the development of our beliefs, our coping mechanisms, our very personalities. Without his memories, is SJ even SJ anymore? They may prefer the blank slate, but it requires no self examination for them. They do not have to think deeper like you have about why SJ is who he is, what terrible past he has that makes the reader more forgiving and understanding of his faults. If they did think about that, they would have to do something, wouldn’t they?

Hell, If Yue Qingyuan and SJ were reversed are any of us going to be suprised at the lengths he'll try to go to get his Qi-ge' back as readers but YQ who cares for SJ but lack of a backbone in not trying to recover his memories and not trying is just... irksome. SJ being more all or nothing guy compared to YQ who basically just a water down version of MDSZ Lan Xichen who basically did nothing to his benefit really says something. He's not kind he's a diplomat a politician he's polite is what he is.

YQ character would be much more attractive to me if his indecisiveness just never existed lol. I hate mopy characters so damn much and with a postions as sect leader had he been more firm and not let his shidi do whatever 99% of the things that happened never would have occured. There's only so much you can blame on miscommunication when it actively hurted and harmed the other party. He saw what it did to his shidi and he just did nothing about it right up to his foolish sucide attempt to save his Xiao at the last minute when his legs got sent to him. Wonder wtf he was doing then filing paperwork lol?

.

[chvoswxtch]

the defenders honestly should’ve been called “everybody fucking hates danny”

[thedevotionaltour]

had an insane moment tonight where i just got repeatedly shamed by friends multiple times within minutes but it's ok now bc i don't have to see these people until next semester :) the minute you repeatedly make me feel bad within a matter of minutes and after i realize every time i hang out with you i feel bad you get put into the realm of "our friendship has a timer" ^___^ no more of this lol

[deeplyinlovewithstars]

derek and haydn had an odd relationship

[dante-mightdie]

This made me sick to think about so maybe you would like it. Sorry this is so long 😭 but my brain worms were at it.

Three months later, Pup reader eventually going into a catatonic state. You stop eating so the handlers eventually put you on an IV and a feeding tube, but when you stop moving, they worry your muscles may start to atrophy. You have already developed sores but still don’t move.

One of the handlers goes rogue and calls John. His number was still on your paperwork when he surrendered you. The handler asks John to reconsider without mentioning what’s happening. He stands firm and says no, just assuming that someone must have returned you back to the shelter. He knows you’ll find a home eventually, but he had enough to deal with at home.

Meanwhile, Simon, Johnny and Kyle are pissed. The new pup John had got was a handful to say the least. Three months of correcting the pup’s behavior over and over again. She was too rambunctious. Not docile like you and didn’t respect boundaries. Where your playful nips at Johnny’s arm would barely register, hers were sharp and painful. She constantly got in whatever bed she pleased and took whatever resources she wanted.

Kyle just relented he became so annoyed, only showing his teeth in warning. Johnny would straight up shoulder check the pup.

Things eventually come to a head when Simon straight up attacks her. He was having as PTSD episode and pup thought it would be a good time to jump on him while he was asleep.

The attack luckily didn’t injure her too badly, but after that she wasn’t submissive, she was aggressive. To everyone. The other pups and even John. Snapping and baring her teeth. It wasn’t until her teeth made contact with John did he realize something needed to be done.

So he called Laswell. She knew the pup needed a female presence and her and her wife were happy to help.

A month passes since the phone call from the shelter. The boys were even more tense than before the other pup left. None of them wanting to be around each other more than necessary. John knew what he had to do.

So he called the shelter, asking had you been adopted yet. An awkward pause before the volunteer on the other line says they need to get their supervisor.

Supervisor informs John that you stopped eating and moving. Because the volunteers could only do so much, they had to put you into a facility that could better help with the long term care you would need.

John is able to pull some strings and get in contact with the facility.

Option 1:

When John goes to the facility, you don’t snap out of it. You don’t believe he’s really came for you. Not when he puts the collar back on your neck or has practically carry you to the car. Not even when the boys surround you, sniffing and pawing.

John has to hand feed you. Even then the boys take over with that, now hating John for what he did to you.

You eventually “come back”, but the fear is always there. You don’t go outside without the boys and you’re always afraid to be alone with John. Forget car rides. The last time you were due for a check up, even having everyone in it did nothing to help your panic attack. Pleading not to go back to the shelter. That you’ll be good. John can hear your soft cries at night before one of the boys eventually crawls in your bed, promising to not let you go again.

Option 2 (I’ll make this short I promise)

The facility didn’t intervene when it came to you wanting to die. That was your choice and the resources couldn’t be wasted. So when John receives a very sincere apology from the facility coordinator that you had chosen to be on the euthanasia list, he is in consolable.

However, a vet tech sees how adorable you are and just can’t let that happen, so they call their cousin.

Zeus was looking for a new pup for oversized hounds to play with.

König all too happy to have a new playmate. He and Nikto often fought over who you would be sharing a bed with before finally just laying down with your in yours. In the middle of the night, Horangi would pull you out of the pile and take you to his own bed.

You eventually started to come back to life. The boys weren’t the same as your other ones, but it was still nice.

John tells the boys you had already been adopted, too afraid of what the truth would do to their dynamic. He has to forever live with the guilt of thinking you had died.

let’s go with option one

c/w: mentions of abandonment trauma, hybrids

there was a period of time where john lost hope that you would get better even after he bought you home. it certainly wasn’t going to stop him and the boys trying, however. john knew how much he’d fucked up when he heard the boys sad whines and yowls when he walked through the door with you

johnny instantly got to work making a nest in the space under the stairs. a cozy dim light hanging above a big pile of duvets and blankets, soft pillows that smell like them. john would give you space as the boys trap you in their arms, scenting over you and nuzzling into your skin until you smell like them again :(

they hold you when you cry, placing kisses to your shoulders and cheeks and the top of your head whisky you let all your sadness out. sometimes, you push them away. wailing that you don’t want them near you right now but eventually you let them back in to cuddle you. you feel weak but you’ve been so lonely and you’ve missed them terribly despite what they did

thinking about how the grief you had been dealing with had thrown your body right off track. not having a natural heat cycle until a good few months after returning home. you didn’t allow any of them in the room with you during that cycle, despite how kyle and johnny whined at the door, begging you to let them come in and take care of you

their whining didn’t last long when simon comes over and snaps at them, telling them to leave you alone whilst the sulk off with flattened ears

it had taken a while for you to warm up to john again. he understood completely. he had completely shattered your heart and trust in them. he wouldn’t put your collar back on until you were completely okay with it. he wanted you to ask. wants it to be something that you want

he begins to think you’ll never forgive him until one night you shuffled into his room nervously, fiddling with your hands in front of you, “can I sleep in here?”

he’d hoped you would at least sleep in his bed with him. let him snuggle you under his big plush duvet and scratch your scalp until you fall asleep but he understands. it’s baby steps. at least now you’ll actually be in the same room as him one on one

[hotpinkstars]

LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader

- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.

- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....

- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912

When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.

“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.

“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.

“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”

You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize. 

“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.

“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?” 

You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!” 

You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?” 

You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”

He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.

Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better. 

But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,

“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”

“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”

You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too. 

“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.

“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”

You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso. 

“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon. 

But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: i don’t really like this much :( im feeling so sick ngl reader is me i am reader, just need me a boyfie like sukuna here :((( anyways, i posted this because i felt the pressure to do it sk bare with me please!! i love you all <33 read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!

so you’ve been silent through the whole day, which has been bothering sukuna whenever he was reminded of it. nervously checking his phone at practice every chance he got, which got his teammates interested in whatever the hell happened that got him so invested in his phone(only toji tbh). his mind being focused on you instead of the upcoming game which reflected greatly on his practice and made everyone worried.

sukuna just waved them off and continued calling you with no results and texting you, which also got him nowhere. so of course, he decided to check on you after being done with university.

no one answers your door, radio silence, which leads sukuna to taking out the poorly hidden spare keys from under the fake plant and going in, still uninvited but determined to find you. he calls your name a few times, walking around the rooms with a frown on his face. the sight that greets him when he enters your room is even more confusing than your silence throughout the day.

a big pile of blankets on your bed. the longer he stares at it the clearer he can see the faint movement of it — slowly up and slowly down, up and down. he approaches it, looking over only to find a tuft of your hair peeking out from under it.

“what the hell..?” he mutters under his nose while his hands tug down the blanket to reveal your face.

even in your sleep you manage to frown and you only do that when you’re not feeling well, so sukuna leans in closer, sensing the heat radiating from you, and touches your forehead with his lips, eyes widening at how hot you feel. “the fuck happened to you?”

you blink sleepily before opening your eyes and looking up at him for a few seconds. sukuna sits down by your side, hands caressing your face gently as he inspects your condition quickly, “what’s up, loser?”

you say his name, yet he can barely hear it before you start coughing and turn away from him. he can see your face scrunch in pain; his heart squeezes in his chest when you lie back and this time your lips wobble slightly as you mouth his name, barely audible, “‘kuna~ think ‘m sick~”

“yea, no shit.” he rolls his eyes with no real annoyance in them. “let’s make you feel better, yeah, baby?”

you nuzzle into his palm and he smiles gently at you… until you unintentionally sneeze right into it, leaving slimy boogers and gross spit, and sukuna’s eye twitches as he tries to contain his curses.

of course, first thing sukuna does — calls his older brother jin, because the former doesn’t even remember the last time he got sick and jin always knows what to do, especially in a situation like this since little yuuji hasn’t developed the best immune system yet.

“are you sure you can take care of her properly?” jin asks worriedly from the other end of the line, causing sukuna to roll his eyes.

“have some faith in me, will you?” jin only sighs, barely listening to him as he writes down the list of various medicine and things he must buy to make you feel better. yet, he still catches his younger brother’s almost incoherent mumbling. “i can take care of her like no other.”

“then do just that.”

sukuna hums and presses end call, continuing to look through your kitchen cabinet full of different medicines in hopes of finding whatever the hell jin sent him.

you’re not a very obedient person when you’re sick though, he notices. sukuna can tell you’re still a bit hazed from the high body temperature and trying to sleep it off without any care, yet the sickness makes you more stubborn than ever.

and he can’t find it in himself to push you around when your body is hurting and muscles are sore from spasming in an attempt to warm up. so he just lets you sit on the chair in the kitchen, wrapped tightly in your blanket, dazedly watching him make you some soup.

he feeds you the soup himself, too, agreeing a little begrudgingly of course. you whine a bit with that pitiful broken voice of yours and he just gives in because your eyes are watery and your lips wobble, and he is just a weak man around you. don’t judge him!

sukuna is so caring, though, it makes you fall in love with him all over again. he’s a bit clumsy when it comes to cooking you stuff and making you curing beverages; rough around his the edges about his timing and maybe a little too annoyed with your childish antics, yet never showing it directly like he usually does.

watching your favourite movies and shows with you, when he’d usually just shit on your taste and choose something of his own(which you also eventually like, but nonetheless get angry at him). getting invested in them too — just so he can entertain you afterwards and take your mind off of your ill state.

not commenting on your messy state; sweaty hair sticking to your forehead, complains about cold when changing your equally sweaty shirts to clean ones, whines about the tea being too hot or the syrup being too gross(okay, that one kinda angers him he just shoves the spoon in your mouth to make you drink it since you wouldn’t do it yourself).

he also sleeps with you later that night, ignoring your warnings about him getting sick too :(( holds you tight, shares his body heat and wakes up every now and then to check if you’ve sweated any more.

needless to say, you feel a lot better the next morning!! all thanks to sukuna.

(also he gets sick a day after, but don’t ask about that pls heh).

[meiieiri]

𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: in which toji hears the words “happy birthday” for the first time.

pairing: toji fushiguro x reader | song inspo: cliché | visuals: keychain | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: brief mentions of physical and emotional abuse (toji’s painful past, really, i just wanna give him a big hug). inspired by the works of @/ddub1618 on twt!

He could get in trouble for this, now, normally, he doesn’t sneak out of training but Toji’s curiosity got the better of him this time. Being one of the taller kids, he stays close to the ground so his hair doesn’t stick up from the bushes. He holds his wooden katana close, peeking when he hears delighted laughter coming from the engawa of the estate, a sound that’s a little rare here in the Zenin estate.

“Happy birthday!”

Toji’s breath hitches in his throat when he hears the happy giggles of one of his younger cousins, and he stealthily sneaks over to a tree that’s just a few feet from one of the estate’s buildings, hiding behind the trunk, peeking from time to time to see what’s going on. He watches with a glittery look in his eyes when his aunt presents his third or fourth cousin, Toji doesn’t really know at this point, with a gift box, happily urging the little one to open it.

A thousand thoughts were running through his head as he inquisitively watched the toddler open their presents and have some of the sweet colorful mochi his parents must have requested from the estate kitchens for this special day. The sweet smell of osekihan lingered in the air, and Toji’s stomach growls at the decadent aroma of the slow-cooked red bean rice. He doesn’t get to have sweets often, so he is left wondering if his parents would allow such a thing for him on his own birthday.

“Toji, what are you doing here?”

Toji stiffens at the sound of his older brother’s voice. “Shh, I’m trying to watch.” He says, pressing an index finger to his lips, making a shushing sound. “Look there.”

Jinichi momentarily places his hands over his hips, indulging his younger brother. “It’s just a birthday. What’s so special about it?”

The younger Zenin huffs at the arid response. “I’ve never had one of those before.”

Toji looks down at the broken fingernails on his hands, worn out from the grueling training regimen today, he imagines what it would be like to hold a present and not sharp edged rocks for once. He can only imagine the excitement he’d feel as he slowly pulls the green gift wrapper off the box, being extra careful with it because it looked too pretty and expensive to haphazardly tear apart. As for the tooth-rotting mochi he’ll be receiving, he’ll do his best to only eat tiny pieces of it at a time, making sure to leave some of the sweet treat for later because who knows when he’ll ever get to eat such a luxury again?

“Say, why don’t I get a birthday? It’s always just you getting one every year.”

Jinichi rolls his eyes. “Everyone has a birthday, dimwit. But not everyone celebrates their birthday.” Toji scowls in displeasure at that, his bottom lip curling up in a pout. At his brother’s petulant silence, Jinichi taps out of the conversation, turning on his heel to go back to the training grounds. “I’m heading back, I’m not about to catch another beating because I went to go look for you.”

“Go do whatever you want. I’m staying.”

And with that, Toji turns his attention back to the joyous occasion, looking longingly as the little birthday celebrant receives a loving peck on the cheek from his mother. He doesn’t even notice the familiar ache in his heart that accompanied how his fingers touched his cheek longing for the day his own mother does that for him.

In a perfect world, all children are wanted; they’d have warm beds to snuggle in at night in place of a rundown storehouse’s cold hardwood floor, their cheeks would be showered with kisses and not harsh slaps, they’d be lulled to sleep by warm lullabies and not the sound of their parents arguing why their child turned out this way like they’re some factory defect, they’d be given toys and not weapons that they need to master.

In a perfect world, Toji would have spent his sixth birthday with a plate of nerikiri in front of him and not some random rocks he found in the garden and lined up in a neat row to make it resemble the white bean dessert. He’d be surrounded by the people he so painfully loves and not the sympathetic ants that crawled on the grass in a tucked away corner of the Zenin estate’s compound on the day he was born into this world.

In a perfect world, Toji wouldn’t have to sing himself a ‘happy birthday’ because no one else ever cared to do it for him.

“Happy birthday, Toji…”

“Toji!”

He must have been zoning out. You told him to meet you outside Shinjuku station today for your date and he doesn’t really know how long he’s been sitting in the waiting area, but it must have been long enough for his mind to wander to the agonizing recollections of his childhood. Toji looks up to see you hurrying to tap your train card on the turnstile with a tired smile that’s pretty hard to miss.

Toji stands up to meet you halfway and you giggle, launching yourself in his arms. Toji loves it when you do that, it shows how you trust him completely that in any and every given second, he’ll always catch you. Burying his face in your hair, he inhales the floral smell of your shampoo, the haze in his mind dissipating ever so slightly.

He frowns when you’re the first to pull away and he opens his mouth to whine about it, but he instantly drops it when he sees you holding up a little gift-wrapped box in front of him. Toji blinks. “This for me?” He almost couldn’t believe it. “You actually remembered?”

You’ve been casually pretending this entire week that you didn’t know what was coming up because you’ve been trying to keep your little surprise low-key until today. Nodding, you kiss the scar on his lips.

“Of course I did! That’s why I was late, I was looking for some…uh…well, never mind! Just open it!” You tap your toe against the floor shyly as his fingers nimbly and painstakingly unwrap the present.

As if he had stepped into a time machine, Toji pictures himself back in the Zenin estate, his knees pulled to his chest as he celebrates his birthday alone, a solitary tear streaming down his face. Except something’s different like the time-space continuum hit a snag or something. The difference being a miniature version of you, smiling adoringly at him, as you plop down next to him on the dirt ground, not caring if your little dress got soiled. In his hands, in this version of events gone by, is a half-opened present wrapped in a beautiful blue gift paper.

Oh, how it would have been nice had that been the case all those years ago when your gentle hands would cup both his cheeks, your thumbs gently rubbing his bruised cheeks. How you would have brightened his days with your warm sunshine.

After what seems like an eternity of gazing into your orbs, seeing his modified past play like a montage from the light reflecting off your eyes, Toji opens the gift and he picks up a crocheted keychain, his index finger flicking the metal hook.

“A frog.”

You chortle as he points out the obvious. “It was the easiest thing to crochet,” you said defensively. “I was late today because I was looking for these,” you point to the black beads serving as the little frog’s cute eyes.

“There’s a…” Toji trails off, his voice wavering. You know what he’s talking about, so you take his bigger hand in your delicate ones. The two of you gazing at your little masterpiece.

“Sorry, I kinda ripped it when I pulled the yarn a little too hard. Guess I was getting sleepy.” You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. “Then, I kinda ran out of green yarn to fix it, so, I had to improvise. I’m sorry if it seems a little offensive—“

Toji cuts you off with an abrupt kiss, not caring if the two of you were attracting a crowd of commuters as the two of you kiss in the middle of a crowded train station. “It’s not half-bad, squirt. Don’t worry.” He ruffles your hair, eagerly suppressing his smile as he looks at the frog keychain that’s meant to resemble him with the tiny pink scar you knit on the corner of the frog’s smiley lips.

Your heart practically leaps out of your chest and you nudge him gently as he continues to stare at the keychain. “Don’t lose it now.”

“You kidding? I’m putting this in a damn safe.”

The two of you share a laugh at that, your fingers interlacing with one another as your lips brush against each other once more.

“Happy birthday, Toji.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor gets that DILF energy. He’s doing whatever with his kid, holding the baby and just chilling when suddenly reader pounces on him because she finds it so attractive. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but his wife suddenly being… excited isn’t always fun and he won’t say no

YOO-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive, ALASTOR GETTING LAID, ALASTOR BEING PUSHED TO HIS LIMIT, Wife is H O R N Y

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor has taken to fatherhood more easily than even he had expected, loving and protecting his little family with an intense fierceness

He loves watching his wife tend to their babies, something about it making his chest swell with happiness and pride

He didn't consider that watching him act paternal would do things to his beloved wife

The first time it happens, he doesn't see the correlation at all, just assuming his wife had been feeling pent up

He was putting his children down for bed, arguing with his adorably mouthy little girl while giving her brother his favorite plushie(he needs it to sleep)

"Now I know you're upset with this arrangement, little one, but you and your brother must get some shut eye."

She's visibly displeased, rubbing her eye as she fights off sleep, leaning on his shoulder as she pouts

Alastor sees you watching him in the doorway, a fond smile on your face as you watch him try to convince your daughter to sleep

What he doesn't see is the small flush on your face, the way your eyes follow his arms as he lays the baby down or the way you swallow as he kisses both his children goodnight

Seeing him so caring and gentle and soft is just-doing things to you

Alastor isn't sure WHAT is happening when as soon as the door closes behind him, you're pulling him into the bedroom by his collar

"My dear, what-mmf!"

Later, when he's laying in bed naked, staring up at the ceiling while you doze on his chest, he'll wonder what got into you

Not that he minded, it was just unexpected

The second time it happens?? Alastor has an inkling of what might be setting you off but doesn't know for sure

His son had tripped and fallen, crying his little eyes out, the impact probably having scared him more than any real pain

But Alastor hates seeing his baby boy cry, so he picked him up and gently examined his son's hands, blowing on the little scratches there before kissing them

"There~ Papa made it all better, see?"

The boy simply sniffled and wrapped his little arms around Alastor's neck, seeking the comfort of his father

And Alastor couldn't deny the way his heart swelled, rubbing his son's back as he rocked and soothed the baby

Not even two minutes after he had put down his son, who was suddenly enamored with Vaggie and following her, did Alastor feel a menacing aura

All he felt was his wife's hand on his shoulder before he was suddenly being dragged up the stairs

He barely has time to register your lips on his neck and hands wandering under his clothes before you're cooing at him to touch you

Ah well...how can he say no to such a generous request?

Husk doesn't say anything when a disheveled Alastor stumbles out of the room hours later and drinks everything in sight before going back

Just keep playing with the babies, Husk...just keep playing with the babies...

Alastor starts to legitimately worry that you'll get pregnant again at this point...so soon after the last time...

Alastor is ready for it the third time, having decided to test out his theory and see if he's right

So he's deliberate in playing with his children in front of you, watching your reaction out of the corner of his eye

You're sitting and reading, not even looking up at them...

The twins are currently hiding from him, their little ears poking out from behind the couch as they giggle and try to keep quiet

Alastor is slow and purposeful as he stalks around the couch, brushing a hand against the back of your neck as he passes by

"Now where could my little fawns be hiding, hm~? Surely not...over...HERE~!"

They scream and scramble to run away from their father, only to be scooped up by his strong arms and held close

Now you're glancing over your book at them, your eyes zeroing in on your husband

He's kissing and nuzzling the twins, their little hands pushing his face away as they squirm, unaware of how futile it is

Alastor looks so smug when you put your book down and start to really take an interest in what he's doing

He gives piggyback rides, tosses and catches them, chases them and everything else he can think of

All while being painfully aware of your heated gaze on him

And if he was purposefully teasing you and drawing out a little extra time with his kids... who was gonna know?

So he isn't surprised when Charlie and Vaggie are being put in charge of baby duty, and Alastor is being lead upstairs

He's ready for it when the door locks behind him and you're guiding his hands over your body

He's about ready to tap out when you roll over on top of him, straddling his lap and encouraging him to go again

"Darling...are you sure you're not in heat or something?"

You laugh at him and it's the scariest yet sexiest thing he's ever heard, his manhood curious but confused by his emotions

"Don't tell me your well has gone dry, darling~ Charlie said she'd watch the kids for us all night~"

He wakes up the next day feeling like he got hit by truck, his throat is parched and he has dried sweat on him-

He hears the bedroom door open, and his wife looks so innocent and happy, not at all like the bedroom monster he keeps meeting

You come up and kiss his forehead, sitting down next to him before handing him a glass of water

"Good morning, darling~ Our babies are waiting to see you so hurry up and get out of bed~"

He watches you walk out of the room, a small part of him proud of the slight wobble in your step but a larger part of him scared for his life

He never thought he would go out like this-

Worth it though 👌

HERE! TAKE IT BEFORE MY FACE MELTS FROM BLUSHING

[creatingblackcharacters]

Do you have any advice/suggestions/requests for non-black members of fandom as far as how to respond to racism in fandom spaces? Obviously we shouldn't be speaking over black voices, but it doesn't seem fair for black members of fandom to have to do all the work of making a fandom space safe and welcoming for themselves.

You are correct! Tbh, these are tips for being a good ally in general:

Amplify Black Voices!

Odds are, whatever manifesto you have in your mind about the injustice of antiblackness in your fandom, a Black fan has already said it multiple times. While I appreciate the sentiment, I must admit I'm salty when I see that people are more supportive of (usually white) voices that discuss my lived experience, over my own voice and my lived experience. What does that really solve? You need to be following Black fans too, that way you're actually in the know when these things are happening.

Don't be a Bystander!

If I'm getting jumped and you (who had the power to help) show up afterwards to say "I really empathized with your pain", I'm not going to think "wow they cared, I'm so grateful". I'm going to think "WOW they really let me get my ass beat!" Same idea with this. That's honestly the most painful part for me; it's not the lone racist themselves, but the hordes of people who back them up, and the rest (some of whom you may even consider a friend) who might disagree but say absolutely nothing.

When you see that a Black peer is being railroaded and you KNOW it's wrong, step tf up! Be willing to say "you're out of pocket for behaving this way, and I will not be supporting you now that I know you're a racist". I will never know you're an ally if you're only an ally in your head! It's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!!

It's going to be uncomfortable! Stand on it!

If you share that you're against antiblackness in fandom spaces, but next you're reblogging whitewashed art, or an artist known for whitewashed/racist pieces, or still following someone who's made covert/overt antiblack statements, etc. just bc you "enjoy their stuff"... You're not being an ally. Be willing to hold those creators accountable, and when they disappoint you, unfollow them. Be willing to tell your friends, "hey, that person did/said this thing that was anti-black and were unapologetic about it". And if your friends don't care? Now you know who's around you. I'm not saying it's easy, but... Do you stand on business, or would you rather allow racism so that you can stay comfortable? Because your Black peers have to live under this discomfort you're only momentarily experiencing. It's far harder for me to approach these people and hold them accountable. And if I see that you're still kicking it with known antiblack racists... I'm probably not going to assume highly of you, either.

Educate yourself on what these aggressions look like!

You might not know what to look for, and if you don't, you're gonna miss a lot. What is actually antiblackness will often be posited as "drama" or "fandom wank". Or, if they're really trying to sound progressive, it'll reveal itself as dogwhistles in other important topics like queer representation or misogyny (e.g. how white women often claim misogyny when confronted with their racism, or TERFs). That's how it gets swept under the rug. Learn to recognize microaggressions, learn to recognize the signs. It requires work! Listen to and believe your Black peers when they explain what they saw! Bc trust, once you see it... You'll realize there's a lot of it lmao. And that's what many fans are afraid of confronting.

That's what I have for now, if anyone else has anything to offer. 👍🏾 Thanks for asking!

[luveline]

If you’re still up for requests — could you maybe do one where peter or remus comes home after a visibly bad day and the reader misinterprets his behavior and assumes he’s upset with her instead ?? like she’s walking on eggshells, silently fussing around trying to figure out what she did, meanwhile all he wants to do is hold her and decompress 🥺☹️

absolutely no pressure! <33

“Oh my god.” Peter lets out a pained groan at the door, followed by the plastic crinkle of shopping bags hitting the floor. “My back. Jesus.” 

You look up in surprise from your book at the table. “I thought we were going together?” 

“I couldn’t face coming home and going out again.” He drags the bags to the fridge and pauses. “I figured you’d be okay with not having to go?” 

“Sure,” you agree immediately. He has a black cranky fog around him, you can practically feel it as you get up to help him unpack the bags. He doesn’t seem best pleased with you.

He rubs his eyes, rubs his mouth, and turns to the sink. He runs the faucet, pulling one of the glasses back off of the draining board to fill, and wincing at the harsh sound when he turns it too fast. Peter forgets his own strength every now and then —usually when he’s not feeling well. 

Peter gives you a funny look as you step into his space. You quickly step out of it and start to load groceries into the fridge and cabinets, pleased to find he’s bought the things you would’ve gotten yourself and even some things you’d have wanted but not allowed yourself. Maybe he’s not that mad after all—

“God damn,” he says, rolling an empty bag into a ball in his hand, “I forgot the fucking laundry detergent again.” 

“That’s okay–”

“It’s not okay, you’ve asked me to get it three times this week.” 

“I was just reminding you,” you say, fingers tingling with the potential of an impending argument. “It’s fine. We haven’t run out yet, we can squeeze another wash out of it. I’ll get some tomorrow.” 

He sits down in the chair you’d been sitting in and moves your book and plate of snacks aside, neither gentle nor rough about it. “Damn,” he says again, dropping his face into his hands.

“Pete…” 

His eyes must be sore by now he’s rubbing them so much, hands held to his eyes and fingers scratching into his hair. He tips his face toward the table and lets himself sit with whatever it is that’s getting him down. Me, you think worriedly. I shouldn’t have asked him to get groceries today. You knew he had a longer shift than usual, and that he’d want to do some Spidering afterward. 

You’ve sorry on the tip of your tongue when he lays his face heavily in one hand, elbow on the table barely keeping him up, and holds the other out toward you. Rejecting him doesn’t even cross your mind. 

“Fuck, I missed you today,” he says, taking your hand as soon as you offer it and dragging you toward him. You peer down at him with wide eyes as he wraps his arm around you, his nose quick to hide in the linen of your shirt. His voice tickles, “I just wanted to be with you. I knew this would make me feel better.” 

There’s a little dry barb at the back of your throat you can’t speak past. Peter doesn’t notice, rubbing his cheek in your side as he repositions you for optimal hugging. He lets out a self-pitying whine, second arm joining the first in a lock behind your back. “You smell amazing.” 

“I do?” you ask finally. 

“I think you’re just made for me, angel,” he says, voice dragging with fatigue. “You always smell good.” 

You squint with lips pursed, blinking in confusion as you bring your hand up to his hair. “Thanks for going to the store.”

“You’re welcome. I can’t function without groceries either, anyways.” He sighs with the particular Parker brand of lovelorn contentedness, a familiar sound. He makes the same noise when you’re tucked up in bed together on the weekends with nowhere to go, or holding hands on the subway travelling home, knee to knee or intertwined. “Can’t believe how quickly you make me feel better,” he murmurs. 

“I kinda thought you were mad at me,” you confess, matching his tone.

“You have some strange wires crossed in your brain,” he says. His sympathy and affection for you is palpable; his hand tracks a soft line down the curve of your back. 

“Yeah, I know. Do you want me to rub your shoulders?” you ask, pressing your face to the mop of his thick hair. 

He hugs you tightly. “You’re my dream girl.” 

[theprissythumbelina]

So you want to write about horses.

Part 2 now out!

Or you're writing and horses show up. Or its a pre-industrial fantasy and your characters have to get somewhere. Or you have a faint idea of your MC's love interest showing up on a white stallion.

Whatever the cause, you're writing, and a horse appears. But you know nothing about horses. I can help.

This is a horse. Horses come in many sizes.

^ Big Jake, a Belgian Draft horse, and a roughly 5 foot woman for scale.

1 hand = 4 inches = 10.16 cm

Once a horse is smaller than about 14.2hh, it is generally considered a pony. In the modern day, ponies are not considered suitable for adult riders due to weight and height issues. Some pony breeds, such as Welsh, Fjords, ect. are known for being sturdy, and can more easily carry adult sized humans. Miniature horses should never be ridden by adults.

^The only suitable 'riding' a miniature horse should do

The above graphic mentions that horses are measured from the top of the withers, not the top of the head. But, what are withers?

The withers are where the horse's shoulders meet the spine, and the neck becomes the back. Withers are incredibly important for saddle placement, as a badly placed saddle in this area can prevent a horse from moving its legs properly, cause a large amount of pain, and even damage a horse's spine. Speaking of spines, this is a horse skeleton, with the withers pointed out.

Horses have four legs. Horses cannot have any fewer than four legs. They are obligate quadrupeds. This is, in part, due to their weight, as well as the construction of their legs and hooves. This is to say, that while cats, dogs, and other animals can be amputees, a horse, short of some incredible magic solution, cannot. Even a broken leg bone will cause a huge amount of problems, as all of the weight that leg would usually hold must be shifted to the other feet, and this causes a condition called laminitis, where the tissue that holds together the hoof and the toe bone becomes inflamed, and begins to separate. Once this happens, the hoof tissue dies from lack of blood, and the bone begins to rotate. This is extremely painful for the horse, and so often the best solution for a horse with a broken leg is to be spared that pain. Famous American racehorse Barbaro experienced a complex broken bone, which began to heal fine, but complications from laminitis in two of his other legs caused him to be put down. This is why media will almost always show a horse with a broken or injured leg being 'taken care of'.

^Barbaro, in his prime. Even the best veterinary medicine couldn't save him.

Now, racehorses like Barbaro are moving at the fastest speed and the fastest gait of the horse, the gallop. The patterns that horses move their feet are referred to as gaits, with most horses having four, with some breeds having five or more.

The first gait and the slowest is the walk. In the walk, all four feet move independently, which leads it to be called a four-beat gait, as the footfalls make a sort of drumbeat on the ground.

The next gait is the trot, a two beat gait with diagonal pairs of legs moving together.

^Diagonal pairs marked in red and blue

The trot is a very bouncy experience for the rider, and can be uncomfortable. Some riders will rise and fall with a pair of diagonal legs, called a posting trot, some will stand in their stirrups, called a two-point or jump position, and some will sit the trot, which requires a lot of core strength (seriously, if you want a strong core, screw the gym)

The third gait is the canter, a three-beat gait with a single diagonal pair. This gait is ridden sitting, and feels a lot like going over waves on a jetski. There is a rise, a scoop, and a fall feeling. The canter is also called a lope in Western riding, they are the same gait.

^diagonal pair marked in red

A gallop is sometimes considered a variation on canter, as it is similar save for the legs actually moving in a four-beat pattern. As you can see with the image of Barbaro, all four of his feet are moving in different patterns, at different times, even though the gallop is really a four beat version of the canter. Riders in the gallop rise off the horse's back into a raised position, which allows the horse to use the full length of its spine and musculature to get as much reach and speed as possible. It feels like riding on top of a train barreling down the tracks, at least until your horse takes an unexpected turn and the ground is suddenly the only thing you're riding.

^ I've been there. The trick is to push away and hit the ground rolling, it hurts less that way. And don't land on your head.

That's all for this post. I'll have more when I feel like it, and send me questions if you want to know more about specific things or need a writing question answered

Reblogs welcome and encouraged

@jacqueswriteblrlibrary for wider reach