#does everyone have an intense preference for this or is it just me

[lijojo]

genshin sugar daddies

premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for every day of the week. a bit overwhelming, right? however, you somehow find ways to make time for each and every one of them, no matter how emotionally and physically demanding they are. it's just that, now they don't seem too keen on sharing, and you don't know what to do. (modern au)

tw: nsfw, dark content - minors dni

mondays are always harder in more ways than one. mondays are diluc's days, and that means that you're spending a good portion of your nights at angel's share.

on mondays, it's happy hour. which means that you're sitting at a booth in the corner looking pretty while diluc is tending to his customers. you're more than happy to sit back and relax while you wait for him to finish with work. when the drinks are on the house, you're willing to wait as long as it'll take.

periodically, when he's not busy, however, he'll walk over to you and engage in conversation. you act as a taste-tester for new drinks so he's always asking you if you like them. you two will talk about your day, any interesting events, and so on until diluc is pulled back into work again.

then you're back to fiddling your fingers and watching him work. over time, you've learned that he preferred that you not do anything while you were supposed to be with him. that instead, you fixated your gaze on him while he moved about. sometimes you'll catch him looking at you to see if your eyes are still on him.

even while he's dealing with a certain tone-deaf bard, there's something about the way he looks at you so intently that reminds you of a predator.

when angel's share closes, you're there to keep him company while he cleans up. when he's done, he'll sweep you away back to his manor.

you'll fall onto the sheets as he grinds against you. his shallow breaths brush against your throat. the look he gives you is nothing short of intense.

"everyone at the tavern was looking at you, you know," he mutters, running his fingers down your chest, sinking into your pants. he pulls them down effortlessly along with your panties. "didn't you feel it, darling? their filthy eyes on you. they want to ruin you. everyone wants to ruin you."

he throws your legs over his shoulders, his fingers crawling up your thighs. you jump when he suddenly inserts two fingers into your cunt, scissoring you. his free arm wraps around your leg to keep you locked against him. his eyes are glued onto you as he presses a kiss against your calf.

"but your eyes were on me all night, weren't they. couldn't take your eyes off me, could you. you're mine, dear. do you hear me? you're mine."

you don't overlook how tight his grip is. tight enough to make you wonder if he'll ever let you go. in the morning, he does, but you're scared for the day he wakes up and decides that it's for the last time.

tuesdays aren't as bad. when you’re sore from the night before, childe is there to take you out to meals, shopping, and sightseeing. he's not always available to spend time with you on tuesdays, because of his equally-demanding job and whatnot, but when he is free, he never wastes a second.

or a dollar.

childe smirks smugly from his sea. his posture is lax, one hand lazily tracing circles on the chair's arm while the other comes up to rest under his chin.

"how about you twirl for me, girlie? you look so beautiful."

you giggle, observing yourself in the mirror. "why thank you."

you bask in the way the soft satin kisses your skin. the way your newly-own earrings sparkle under the dressing room's light. just a couple years ago, you could've only dreamed of being dressed so prettily.

"do your side-bitches ever treat you as well as me?"

"childe!" you chide.

he laughs, getting up from his seat. but you both know better than to believe his little chuckle is genuine.

he approaches you, sliding his hands around your waist. tucking your head under his chin, he stares at you through the mirror's reflection.

you don't say anything, and childe doesn't either. it appears he's more than happy to enjoy just standing there. his gaze is glossed over, far away.

the two of you sway side to side for what seems like forever until he decides to say something.

"do they buy you pretty things like i do?"

of course they do, you think. although you spend one-on-one time with each and every one of them, they are all aware of each other. it's only right that they did. it was the first thing you said when you brought the idea up to them, that it wasn't going to be exclusive.

but when you see the way he looks at you, you can't really tell him the truth. not when his focus is redirected from his thoughts to you.

"the things you buy me are a special kind of pretty," you reply.

it seems like that answer is enough for him, because he doesn't say anything else. instead he hums quietly, letting the vibration ripple in the back of your head. he slides his hands down your hips and before you can say anything else, he whips his head around.

"i'll buy these sets." he motions over to the closest clothes rack to an attendant you hadn't noticed. "and that one. and the dress she's wearing. how many colors does this come in, by the way?"

the attendant doesn't hesitate. "five colors, sir. they come in bla—"

"great." he shuffles through his pocket to pull out a black card. "pack them up, we won't be here any longer," he retorts.

the attendant looks ecstatic, quickly shuffling out of the dressing rooms towards the cash register with newfound glee.

"childe," you whine. "i don't think these will fit in my closet."

his hands crawl lower, his finger hovering over your clit. "then they'll fit in mine. come over any time of the week when you want to wear one of my special pretty things."

your breath hitches as he rubs slow circles on your clit. he pushes the two of you back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.

"what are you doing, she'll be back any second—"

he kisses the corner of your jaw, pressing his lips close to your ear. "no worries. if there's one thing i'm sure about, it's that no one undresses you faster than i do."

wednesday is when usually everything calms down. kazuha will typically invite you to a new park, scenic route, or gallery. together, you'll write haikus, sonnets, and limericks together. some hours you'll just sit in silence, putting pen to paper. and when the sun goes down you'll exchange poetry.

out of the seven men, kazuha probably scares you the most. he was the first person you decided to do this whole ordeal with, after all. and since he's known you the longest, he also knows about your circumstances more than others. maybe that's why he's so focused on treating you as if you were a fragile cherry blossom petal. his touches feel like ghosts, running down your forearm as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.

in exchange for his protection, his money, and his care, you give him honeyed words. you act as his muse for when he's hit a creative block. you're there to listen to him read out verses when the wind can't bear the strength to carry them. you listen to his grief about his best friend, his loneliness when he was forced to leave his home country. as someone many of the locals looked to for wisdom, he too carried the emotional burdens of being someone's rock. emotional burdens that he let onto you (whether purposefully or not, you're unsure). but you listen anyway, hearing him talk about days of poverty, where sometimes he had to worry about things to eat, or how to get proper healthcare.

you can't lie and say you're always stable enough to hear some of the things he has to say, but you try.

even if you sometimes feel like you can't take it, you just smile and squeeze his hand tighter like you're supposed to. sometimes your mind will go on autopilot, and sometimes you'll stand up on the grounds of needing to go to the bathroom. but at the end of the day, this is what you signed up for. this. making men happy so that you yourself won't have to worry about your endless debt.

you peer over your notebook to see kazuha immersed in his own writing. but instead of his usual peaceful expression, he looks somber. his hands won't leave the paper, his eyes glued onto the words that he's drawn onto the pages.

"what's got you so worked up?" you ask curiously. "is it something new?"

it's like your voice snaps him out of his trance. he blinks, looking up at you. there's a smile you know all too well on his lips. "yeah, i suppose you could call it that."

"could i look at it? i want to see what's got you so focused like that."

his lips press into a straight line. "hmmm, maybe later."

his words catch you off-guard. usually he's the one who's eager to share his work, regardless of the quality. "oh? is it something you want to keep secret?"

he doesn't many any hint of an answer. instead, he puts down his pen and stares at the ground in contemplation. he's picking and choosing what words to say.

"i could protect you," he says, shuffling his papers to the side. you turn to him, curious. his expression slowly hardens. "by myself, i mean. i could take care of you."

"kazu—"

"i have the means to make a living for the both of us. i could sell more of my poetry, i know they'll sell well—"

"where is this coming from?" you move closer to him, brushing his hair aside. "kazu, are you worried about something?"

there's something that's stopping him from saying anything. his fingers intertwine with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

he purses his lips, before turning away and sighing. "no, not really."

after that, he doesn't say anything else. the two of you bask in silence once again. even though you're used to the quiet, there's something deep down in you that feels nervous. like something in the atmosphere changed. there's a sudden resolved glint in his eye as he get backs to writing so diligently on a piece of paper he won't let you read.

after all these days spent talking about himself, somehow you're scared for the day he suddenly decides to stop.

on thursdays you're usually at tighnari's greenhouse, watching him take notes of other plants while you twiddle your thumbs. once in a while, he'll begin rambling about the plants—what kind of species they are, how rare, their medicinal properties, and the like.

you're more of a companion, than anything. someone who can make his days a little less lonelier. and you appreciate it. it's much more tranquil with him. you can enjoy his sharp quips, especially when cyno comes to visit.

his sex-drive is relatively normal, if not a little below average. just like wednesday, you also expect thursday to be a typical rest day.

except when spring comes.

when spring comes, your routine get a little wonky. for one week, at least. because that's when tighnari's heat hits him like a fucking monsoon.

you can already tell when it's coming when he begins to hover closer to you. whenever you take your hand out to do anything, even the slightest gesture, he's already taking it and dragging it towards his sensitive ears.

the moment you've made your plans set to 'take the week off' and help him out, he's already on you, face pressed into your neck as if it's his oasis.

as you can tell, he takes this week very seriously.

"i bet—shit—those other fucks don't get to hold you as long as i do," he lets out as he fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. his hands hold onto your waist like he owns it, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine. "looking so pretty for me. i wonder what they'd say if you got pregnant with my babies. you'd be so much more beautiful plump with my kids. is that what you want huh? to make them angry with my cum stuffed in your gorgeous pussy?"

some days you almost can't believe how uncharacteristically aggressive he is. he dicks you down like he's trying to imprint his shape into the core of your body so that none of the others can fit inside.

and when he cums, he'll take whatever unfortunate portions slip out and smear it all over your chest. especially where your heart is.

then the process starts all over again.

when it's over, he'll spoon you. as if he didn't almost fuck you to death. his touch is tender, like a ghost's hovering over your skin.

"why won't you leave them all for me?"

you shift a little to look at him and kiss him softy, sweetly, on the line of his jaw. "oh, nari, you know i can't."

his ears droop at your words. "you can't, or you won't."

his words make you freeze a bit.

you think back to last week, and the week before, and the one before that. you think about why you started selling your services in the first place, the endless debt you used to be in, and the progression of the relationship between all seven of your...contacts. even if you wanted to, you don't think you could back out if you tried. you've dug a hole for yourself. one deep enough to cause some sort of disruption if you ever decided to stop digging.

so you just hum. "you know how much i love routine."

as some sort of apology, you give him and open-mouthed kiss, one he's almost desperate to return. he moans, hands cupping your face to bring you closer to him.

you're well unaware how much your words have an impact him.

at the end of the week, all al-haitham wants to do is unwind. it's the only logical thing to do. no late-night drinks with the colleagues, no stressful trips to some tourist trap. on fridays, al-haitham comes home to a meal made with love.

when al-haitham's at work during the day, you're usually running your actual errands. it's when you have time to make those one-in-a-blue-moon visits to your actual home, although it's getting harder to call it that.

when it gets to the late-afternoon, you'll usually head to al-haitham's place to start cooking. if you didn't know how to cook before, you do now. every ingredient is handled with care, measured meticulously just as you knew he preferred.

and when he gets home, tired and stressed out, you're there to welcome him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

during dinner, sometimes he'll talk to you about work or the latest research he'd gotten himself immersed with. in return, you tell him about some of your childhood memories. your likes, your dislikes, what used to be your hobbies. you do your best to keep your personal matters out of the conversation, no matter how many times he tries to pry into your private life.

sometimes dinners feel like a full on investigation, the way he keeps greeding for more information about you. he watches you eat with calculating eyes. you pretend to pay no mind to it.

in the beginning, kaveh used to join you for dinners. you always liked the guy, the way he bickered with al-haitham and riled him up. but now you've begun to see less of him, as if he never comes home on fridays at all.

after dinner, there are two different outcomes depending on his mood:

outcome one is that you'll spend the rest of the night curling up on his couch, the both of you immersed in your own books. al-haitham leans on your shoulder as he flips through the pages as if they're nothing. you can't help but feel ticklish whenever his hair brushes against your jaw.

somewhere in the middle, he'll move one hand to start fidgeting with the end of your shirt, sometimes crawling underneath to caress your sides.

outcome two is less quiet. the moment he gets home with that solemn face, you know it's coming. his voice is huskier, his responses shorter. it's usually a result of an impending deadline, colleagues being more peskier than usual.

the moment you two are done with dishes, he gingerly takes your hand and leads you up to the bedroom.

his kisses tastes like green tea and dinner. his hands run up and down your torso, trying to imprint the feel of your skin into every inch of your brain. you whimper when his thumbs press softly into your nipples, rolling them around as they harden.

your hands find purchase on his collar, tugging him impossibly close. he groans at the contact.

you let out a yelp when your back suddenly falls onto the bed. your hands are pressed onto the sheets, al-haitham's fingers encircling your wrists. his knee nudges your legs further apart, rubbing at your clit.

"don't look at the ceiling, dear, look at me," he breathes out, his hands leaving your nipples to gently guide your face towards. "that's it. good girl. just me. just look at me. only me."

he smiles.

"now, let me do god's work on your divine body."

saturdays with ayato can sometimes get hectic. some saturdays you're out getting bubble tea together and enjoying the city, and other saturdays you're hurrying to some publicitiy event hosted by the kamisato clan.

on those type of days, you can expect to wear gowns layered with shiny nylon tulle fabric. it's not as revealing as what you'd try on in dressing rooms with childe. in fact, it's a bit more modest.

today you're wearing a light-blue gown to match with ayato. you turn around to get a good look at the cute bow attached at your waist, your diamond encrusted earrings swaying along with you.

it's as if you've put on another costume. another front to wear for the night.

ayato enters the room just shortly after. in his hands is a diamond necklace to match with your stunning earrings. small smile falls upon his lips when he clasps it on.

"you're beautiful," he mumbles. you giggle when he kisses you square on the lips, licking away the tinted color.

"ayato," you press in-between kisses. you place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "you're going to ruin my lipstick."

he pulls away with a cheeky smile, taking your wrists to wrap around his neck. "you can always put on some more later."

you pout but kiss him regardless. he tightens his hold on you in reaction, moaning into your mouth.

at these kinds of events, you're there as his plus-one. just so that other officials could stop introducing girls to him when he clearly wasn't interested in them. it'd be arguable to say that you might even be there to make the events a little less intolerable.

somewhere along the lines, you'd sleep with him in addition to being his arm candy at parties. sometimes even before: you two rushing to put on your formal attires and fix your hair minutes before the event started.

but beyond that, you started to get to know him better. he'd whisper into your ear about funny stories relating to the guests as you meet them. sometimes you'd run away in the middle of the party to binge out on the food and talk about your other interests. surprisingly, he doesn't talk about the politics behind his duties as the head of the kamisato family. not as much as you expected, at least.

instead he talks about his dreams for a family. how many kids, what their names would be, how he'd raise them. and as he talked, he'd give you this heavy gaze that you're not sure what to do with. as if he was expecting something from you.

you're beginning to believe that ayato has somehow confused contractual girlfriend with actual girlfriend.

when you had met ayaka months ago, ayato introduced you as his girlfriend. you didn't attempt to correct him—that's ayato's business. not your's. but when you're expecting ayato to come clean to his dearest sister, you're sorely mistaken.

instead, while he kisses your lips so hungrily, he subtly slips a diamond ring onto your finger.

sundays are usually kaeya's days off. although the cavalry captain's duties are seemingly never endless, he takes the day off to take a breather.

in other words, he sees you.

at first, it was just candlelit dinners. he'd walk in with a bouquet of roses, complimenting your dress and staring at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. he'd take you to somewhere fancy, pull out the chair for you and sweet-talk you all through the night.

conversations were fun with him. you didn't have to think much at all, not about how to pay the bills, the six men in your life who seemingly began to want yours to only revolve around theirs, or being someone your not.

kaeya was probably the only one who you felt you could be comfortable with. he made you laugh, he'd tell all sorts of interesting stories, and he never made the silence feel awkward.

at least, that's how you used to be.

you see, usually after these candlelit dinners you'd both go back to his place, with him ripping off your clothes the moment the door closed. but as of recently, he's been asking to come over to your place instead more often. almost too often.

and that's not the only thing that's changed.

the sex used to be rough. heated. almost as if he was consumed by all of his pent-up sexual frustration and was only focused on getting off. he'd slurp your cunt like a man starved but he'd still rail you as if that's the only thing he cared about.

but as time passed, he's been getting more and more...sensual. the sex is much more slower. personal, almost.

vulnerable.

after dinner, he slowly slips off your clothing. one article after another, until your left in your underwear. he first kisses you on the mouth, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. slowly, he makes a trail of them down your body, as if no skin deserved to be left untouched.

although you made a rule that no one could leave your marks on you, it doesn't mean he doesn't try. as he kisses your lower lips, sometimes he'll attempt to leave marks close to your clit. if you're not careful, diluc will find it tomorrow.

his thrusts were always deep, but now that he's much more purposeful about it. it's rhythmic, as if he's trying to reach a new spot inside you. somewhere no one's touched.

the pillow-talks are much more longer as well. he holds you tighter now, wrapping his arms around your hips as he tangles his legs with yours.

instead of ranting on about the silly incidents he witnessed on the job earlier in the week, he talks about his feelings. towards you. towards diluc. towards himself. some nights you can handle it, some nights are too much.

but you can't say anything. not when he's holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. not when he helps you pay off your debt. and so you let his raspy voice whisper in your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair. you listen to him mumble sweet-nothings.

you're not sure if you like the adoring look he gives you as you drift off to sleep.

[keefechambers]

I wanna be blunt about this ongoing James somerton suicide threat issue but I don't want to connect it to my IRL Twitter to comment on the dogshit takes I'm seeing there or the good and well meaning but maybe too kind takes I'm seeing here.

Obviously, I hope that this is a false alarm cry for help fake threat. Yes, it would reinforce that Somerton is a self-centered egomaniac who can't handle consequences but that's preferable to dead.

But I work in local news and let me tell you something. I've covered half a dozen family annihilating murder suicides and heard hundreds of men making suicide threats over police scanners and a huge swath of these don't happen because they're depressed or because people are mean to them on the Internet. They're punishment. A person with an enormous amount of entitlement towards people around them gets backed into a corner and they punish the people closest to them by killing themselves or threatening to kill themselves.

No one wants to talk about this feature of suicide because...you want to help people who are struggling and guide them away from this path and being blunt about the fact that sometimes people die of suicide as a consequence of their own shittiness towards the world does not really help actively suicidal people. But suicide rates are higher in men not just because they have higher rates of untreated mental illness (a societal issue we must address for the sake of all) but because some people, often men, use suicide (but more often the threat of suicide) as a tool of abuse and control.

I'm not saying somerton is like, an icky abuser bad guy, he's just a run of the mill grifter scumbag, but his actions in the past show a clear pattern of escalating behavior that aligns with this.

Somerton gets called out -> somerton alleges physical threats of violence against himself and his fans rally around him supportively -> Harry calls somerton out in a bigger way -> Somerton says he's hospitalized but there are inconsistencies with the story but no one wants to talk about that because you wanna be nice-ish about a guy who just tried to kill himself and now he's trying to be framed as tragic but it doesn't really stick -> somerton apologizes again but his apology is rightly called out for lies and manipulative framing as well as his continuing attempts to profit off the community he betrayed -> James posts a suicide note publicly putting the onus of his own suicide on the loss of his friend Nick who he repeatedly threw under the bus and now everyone is rallying to say nice-ish shit and wring their hands in concern over poor james -> indefinitely repeat this vicious cycle forever until he actually does die or finally gives up and gets real, intensive therapy and a day job.

Thats not to say anyone's concern is misplaced, it's 100% better for him to be a living scumbag than a dead one. He deserves the chance to grow and learn and have a life outside of youtube.

But you don't have to portray this as the action of a sad depressed man who got bullied off the Internet. It's manipulation, whether he intended to go through with it or not and whether someone intervened or not. Not denying that internet bullying is a thing, I'm sure there were some people who were shitty directly to James but he made the choice to not unplug from this and to try and keep being a public figure rather than taking care of himself. He could have deleted Twitter, blocked anyone who was an asshole, gone to therapy and tried to move on with his life but if he'd deleted his channel he'd have lost monetization... Can't have that, right? So he posts some apology videos so his channel stays active and then complains about how ruinous this is while never trying to take real accountability.

But the reality is that people would have forgotten about him so quickly and maybe his job prospects would've been impacted but...that's on him, and that's for him to figure out but it's not actually life ruining. He chose to continue to engage knowing he'd get backlash and hate and he'd feel worse and worse and things would never get better without the time and space for people to forget.

He made the choice to make a public spectacle of his own alleged suicide. That is the action of someone who wants to put the weight of their suicide on someone else's shoulders and is morally wrong. He can be held to account for that, alive or dead.

[7ndipity]

Friends With Benefits Headcannons

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How they would handle being in a fwb relationship(as well as some of their preferences in bed)

Warnings: +18 mdni, smut. Mentions of oral (m and f receiving), bondage, degradation, marking,

A/N: Could not get this concept to leave me alone while working on requests, so I thought I’d subject you all to my brainrot as well, bc I mean, that’s kinda the point of this blog, right?(sorry not sorry)

Masterlist

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Jin:

Was slightly hesitant when you first brought it up, but quickly came around to the idea. (Might have had feelings for you already, and knows that’s a no-go in these kinds of relationships, but in his mind that just made the shift in dynamic that much easier.)

Starts out really soft and sweet with you, not wanting to shock you or make you uncomfortable, but gets increasingly more intense and kinky as y’all get more comfortable with each other.

Is obsessed with your thighs and holds onto them for dear life when you ride him. Not so secretly loves ‘accidentally’ leaving marks on them.

Wants to be tied up and be used and edged till he’s crying from overstimulation.

So fucking loud in bed, you’ve had to cover his mouth a few times to keep others from overhearing the two of you(turns out he likes that though, as well as choking)

The emphasis in your relationship is still on ‘friends’ tho. Half of the time you hang out with everyone else like normal, but there are those nights when one of you asks under your breath “can you stay after the others leave?”

Lowkey starts getting a little possessive after a bit, fucking you like he’s got something to prove if he catches you looking at someone else. “Saw how you were looking at them. Bet they can’t fuck you this good, yeah? Can’t make you cream like this cock.”

Probably winds up confessing his feelings to you bc of this, but then you admit you’ve been feeling the same way. Turns out you’re just two idiots in love(good for y’all👍)

Yoongi:

Just comes out with it one day when y’all are hanging out, like “You wanna hookup?”

He’s super respectful about it, of course, but there’s a casualness to his approach that makes it easy to talk about. You wouldn’t know this was his first fwb arrangement from the way he acts.(He’s thought about it before, but he’s never actually followed through)

Chronically calls you in the middle of the night, asking if he can come over cause he can’t sleep.

Obviously, he’s Mr. Tongue Technology for a reason. He won’t even put his dick near you until you’ve cum on his mouth at least once, arms hooked around your thighs to keep you right where he wants you.

Surprisingly soft in bed, unless he’s had a really frustrating week, and then he’s pounding into you so hard you can’t walk right the next day, running his mouth the whole time like “Such a pretty little cocksleeve.”

He tends to feel really guilty afterwards though, so his aftercare is god tier. Warm baths and reassuring words, massaging any sore muscles, will even cook for you if you want.

Addicted to kissing you. Will straight up ask you, like “I’m bored, wanna make out?” He’s not content until he’s sucking on your tongue.(might have a slight oral fixation)

I could see him maybe catching feelings? But if he does, you will never know unless you bring it up first, cause he will take that shit to the grave before fucking things up with you.

Hobi:

Oddly enough, I think he would really love this dynamic? Like there’s something just so comfortable about the fact that it’s you and him that makes it easy for him to let go.

When the subject came up, he kinda just went with it, almost out of curiosity, but he very quickly became addicted to feeling of you around him.

Love, love, loves sneaky quickies, dragging you off to the bathroom when you're out with friends, having to be as silent as possible so no one overhears y’all, despite him pistoning himself into you as fast as humanly possible. Knowing you’re going around the rest of the night with his cum leaking out of you makes him crazy.

The term ‘sweet but psycho’ comes to mind, bc you never know which Hobi you’re going to get; The sweet one that kisses and caresses you softly as he rolls his hips into yours, or the dark one that shoves your face down in the pillows as he relentlessly pounds into you from behind.

Has a way of saying the filthiest things so that they’re somehow almost sweet? “You’re my little whore aren’t you? No one else’s, only mine.”

Loves buying you things to you to model/wear for him, mainly lingerie, but it can be anything he saw and thought you’d look cute in(not jewelry tho, he worries about that coming off as too intimate or relationship-y)

Ends up catching feelings, but takes so long to confess that it’s obvious to everyone but him.

Namjoon:

This dynamic would work really well for him, until it doesn’t.

When you first suggested the idea, he was super into it. He has a fear of getting over-attached, so he likes the easy, casual nature of it, but he’s a romantic deep down and that starts to bleed into his actions.

Tends to call you when he’s stressed, fucking all of his frustrations out into you, pounding into you from behind with your face burried in the pillows.

Other times, he’s so soft and tender, kissing and worshipping every inch of you while fucking you so nice and slow you could cry(and you have)

Loves watching you suck him off, real slow and sloppy like, and has invited you to his studio on multiple occasions for the sole purpose of this, cause it’s one of his favorite fantasies.

His other favorite tho is when you pin his hands to the bed and ride him(he’s mentioned it in too many songs to not mention). Watching you take control and use him for your own pleasure drives him wild.

I could see him fucking up and saying I love you during sex, though whether he realizes at the time is debatable.

Jimin:

Neither of you exactly brought it up, things just sort of escalated after a few too many drinks, and suddenly you were on his lap making out.

Once your brains managed to catch up, you kinda sat back like wtf?! But you both admitted you really wanted to continue, so things just kinda progressed naturally from there.

Honestly, It’s so close to dating, idk why y’all don’t just admit you love each other and save the trouble of ‘sneaking around’(Poor Jk has walked in on too many things that he can’t unsee)

Gets off on your pleasure, would happily spend the whole night with his head between your legs if you’d let him.

Needs to keep his mouth busy at all times. Will just come up to you, pouting like 🥺“I want kisses.”

Found out he was into choking by accident while you were riding him once and lost your balance and your hand slipped to his neck and he almost came on the spot. The feeling of you controlling his breath makes him lightheaded in more than one way.

His favorite is when you spoon/sit behind him and jerk him off, one hand on his cock and one hand around his throat, whispering the sweetest filthy things in his ear the whole time.(Call him ‘good boy’ and his knees will buckle)

Taehyung:

Probably brought it up first out of morbid curiosity as you were both talking one night, but was so relieved you said yes.

Y’all are almost more cuddle buddies than anything else bc he just loves casual affection, holding you close, tracing his hands over your skin.

When y’all do have sex though, he’s super intense. Lots of eye contact and deep kisses as he rolls his hips into yours, practically laying on top of you(or you on top of him, he’s not choosey). He just wants to be as close to you as humanly possible.

Likes taking you out on lil dates, even though you told him that’s not quite what fwb’s do, but he doesn’t care. He considers it a form of foreplay, plus he just likes to spoil you.

Really gets off on you marking him up. He loves finding your little masterpieces scratched into his back the next morning and wears them with pride.

One of his favorites tho is watching you fall apart on his fingers, especially while yours are wrapped tightly around his cock.

Has called you multiple times in the middle of the night while jerking off because he cums better to the sound of your voice.

Might end up catching feelings, but it would take him a bit to realize because of the aesthetically romanticized way he views your relationship.

Jungkook:

He was probably the one who brought it up initially, half joking, like “Well, why don’t we just fuck?” But then when you started actually considering it, he was like 😳”holy shit wait really?!”

Honestly, he does quite well with this arrangement, it almost becomes a weekly routine for the two you: you meet up, you hang out/have dinner, you fuck. Sounds like the perfect evening to him, tbh.

He’s actually such a big softie. Loves slow, deep sex where it just hands trailing everywhere, lips on lips, swallowing each other's moans and sighs. (He doesn’t admit it at first, but he loves it when you sleep over so he can hold/cuddle you.)

But he also loves being rough with you, manhandling you into whatever position he wants and pounding into you till you're screaming his name.

(honestly, he probably goes between both styles in the same session)

He has crazy high stamina, so y’all almost always go multiple rounds, not stopping till both of you are absolutely wrecked (“I’m not done yet, understand?”)

Wants you to sit on his face, and I mean sit. He gets so irritated with that hovering bullshit and will pull you down on him. “What, you think I can’t handle it or smth?!”

It wouldn’t be a Jk list if I didn’t bring up his possessive streak, so yeah, don’t let him catch you looking at anyone else, unless you want to not walk properly tomorrow. He doesn’t care that y’all aren't a technical couple, your his and he’s yours.

Taglist:@sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[teenytinyjimin]

i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry.

summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please

warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise

author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.

also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bars weren't really your thing.

If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.

Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.

Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?

Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).

You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.

You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.

"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.

"Hey."

You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.

"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.

"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."

"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."

"You know that stuff's bad for you."

"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."

"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."

"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"

"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."

"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."

You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."

"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."

"We aren't strangers either though."

"That doesn't matter. Not friends."

"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."

"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."

"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"

You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.

"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.

You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.

You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.

Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.

You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.

"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."

Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.

"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.

[rene-spade]

Ok but how are the crazy f1 dads with their daughters dating? Who on the grid do they like?

oof this is a loaded ask bc they really are all out of it 😭 they just love their babies fr

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! kimi | growing up räikkönen!

FIRST OF ALL kimi doesn’t really vibe with most people in general, let alone anyone who’s trying to get with his little lumienkeli. kimi was lucky to raise a little girl similar to him, who listens when he places a no dating rule lasting until she’s 21 (as far as he knows anyways). despises the guys on the grid trying to get with her; he was one of them once so he thinks of them as animals, especially leclerc who’s known for his brow-raising dating life. also hates pierre but he already didn’t fw him bc he’s french. he is SLIGHTLY more easy going with women around his daughter so any grid guys with girlfriends might have an advantage. he finds that he wants the im-a-dog-and-ill-do-whatever-my-girl-says type for his daughter, but he dislikes unintelligence. he does not like anyone on the grid, but he best tolerates:

mick schumacher!

oscar piastri (+lily)

he vibes with kika okay but hates pierre 💀

bonus! he actually really likes max but his hate/distrust for jos overpowers that so he’s not letting that happen

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jenson | growing up button!

OK SO JENSON is a bit less intense than kimi, however he is much more publicly affectionate with his daughter which means that he has definitely gone on public rants about how no man is good wen enough for his baby. that being said, he is a decent judge of character so he doesn’t hate anyone on the grid. but he gets real serious when he notices people hitting on his baby. this is mostly bc he was def a whore when he was younger so he isn’t quick to trust guys who are living the same lifestyle he was. he kind of turns on dad-mode when he notices anyone eyeing her up. but alas, he raised his own mini-me, who attracts just about everyone, and who likes to flirt back. it takes warming up to, but he can see himself fine with most of the drivers. he most prefers people who are friendly and who didn’t act like him when he was in f1 like:

george russel

daniel ricciardo

lando norris

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! fernando | growing up alonso!

NANDO IS DEFINITELY one of those guys who thinks he’s a “cool dad” bc he’s a young father and his daughter is his best friend. but in reality he’s one of those intense, fiercely overprotective dads who have impossibly high expectations for his daughters partner. 100% the type to punch a mechanic for saying gross things about his princesa. he’ll be calm and in a good mood then someone on the grid (or any man ever) mentions his daughter and he’s like 😐. UNLESS! it’s carlos. carlos is the only one who meets his standards, sorry to literally everyone else. but even with carlos, he can be a little stern just to get his point across about not messing with his only child. he just feels the need to personally approve of his daughter’s partner bc he’s hyper-paranoid about someone hurting her. his list looks something like:

carlos sainz!!!

that’s it

i mean if you put a gun to his head maybe max bc he’s a winner but he needs to learn to speak spanish so-

♤ ♤ ♤

dad! jos | growing up verstappen! unfortunately

FUCK JOS VERSTAPPEN obviously, however this man is one crazy dad who we have to discuss. his love for his youngest daughter is wild and unpredictable, and it’s very different from the way he treats his other children. his baby has some extreme one-sided beef with him that he’s smart enough to know about, so he isn’t too forceful about bonding, it’s definitely more desperate since max found success in f1 and she sticks with her big brother now. her entire life, he’s never allowed her to date, and when he found out about her first secret bf, he got arrested for trying to kill the kid so. he has IMPOSSIBLY high standards for his daughters partner and definitely wants her to marry within the f1 community, but he hates losers and despises half the grid.

suddenly he’s charles leclerc’s biggest fan !

lewis hamilton but he’ll never admit it

MAYBE carlos sainz

bonus! max obvi likes daniel ricciardo best but jos doesn’t fw him like that

♤ ♤ ♤

Ren

[arklay]

wait needs to talk about it

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

[witchy-scribblings]

imagine matching with rengoku kyojuro on tinder...

❀ tinder date kyojuro who has a long ass bio, written in all caps and with an excessive amount of exclamation marks and fire emojis, but his introduction is so sweet and endearingly to the point that you ignore the possibility of him being another weirdo.

❀ "about me: HI! I'M KYOJURO!!! I LOVE EATING AND KENDO TRAINING 🔥🔥 SET YOUR HEART ABLAZE AND FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 NOT LOOKING FOR HOOKUPS!!!"

❀ tinder date kyojuro who has only uploaded three pictures of himself: a selfie featuring the most intense eyes and radiant smile you've ever seen, a shot of a table covered in various delicious-looking dishes and a full body shot of him right after a training session, displaying a very sculpted and very sweaty upper body.

❀ tinder date kyojuro whose friend, uzui, was the actual mastermind behind the idea of introducing him to online dating (and who is to blame for the addition of that third picture everyone say thank you tengen).

❀ tinder date kyojuro who isn't partial to the idea of matching for a hook-up because that's far from his style.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who feels so pulled in by your profile when it appears that he doesn't even swipe right, he superlikes instead.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who forces himself not to stare at your swimsuit pictures because he thinks it's disrespectful, but at the same time can't stop admiring how pretty your face and smile are.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who feels so ridiculously giddy when he matches with you (even more if you had already swiped right on him before he superliked you) that he messages you immediately.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who couldn't come up with a pick-up line to save his life, so he just started with a very simple, very straightforward "HI! I'M KYOJURO! I THINK YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!! 🔥🔥😃"

❀ tinder date kyojuro who is admittedly bad at replying because he's generally very disconnected from his phone, but when he does answer he can engage in hours-long conversations if nothing else demands his immediate attention and, of course, if you're up for them.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who respectfully ends chats with other matches the moment he becomes hopeful and optimistic about the direction of his conversations with you, because he would never, ever ghost other people if he stopped being interested.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who has actually taken notes of the hints you drop from time to time, like preferred date types and spots, hobbies, your favorite flowers, what kind of drink you order at coffee shops...

❀ tinder date kyojuro who doesn't rush meeting you in real life because he's genuinely content just chatting with you and learning more about you, but is unmistakably excited when you decide to exchange phone numbers.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who is smitten with the first voice note you send him, especially because it was of you wheezing at some funny inside joke he had referenced, and he had thought you had the most stunning kettle laugh ever (he lets you know that).

❀ tinder date kyojuro who physically fist bumps the air when the topic of your actual first date together comes up, and he can't help gushing to uzui about every detail he arranges with you. "a picnic, tengen! isn't it just the most wonderful idea for a first date?"

❀ tinder date kyojuro who turns up at the park only a few minutes later than you, apologizing for making you wait with a lovely bouquet of your favorite flowers.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who is absolutely delighted (and, flankly, a little blown away) that you had prepared some homemade food for the picnic (some of which he remembers having mentioned he likes).

❀ tinder date kyojuro who hasn't even held hands with you yet, but thinks he could marry you on the spot after the first bite of your cooking; he's the literal embodiment of the saying "the easiest way to a man's heart is through his stomach" (and yes, of course he goes "UMAI").

❀ tinder date kyojuro who loses track of time when he's with you, and visibly deflates like a scolded puppy when it gets dark because it means it's time to say goodbye. it helps, just a little, that you ask him to walk you home, and he complies without hesitation.

❀ tinder date kyojuro, whose disappointment at having to part ways with you is easily fixed when you confess that you'd love to see him again as soon as possible, and he has to actively fight the urge to squeeze the life out of you right there by your doorstep.

❀ tinder date kyojuro who deletes his tinder account as soon as he gets home because he knows it in his bones that there's no need for further searching.

[paymechildsupport]

Ryomen Sukuna x Reader // A Troublemaker's Love

@manikosii --> "What do you think about Bully!Sukuna who is madly in love with the reader? I just like the small Sukuna who has known the reader since childhood and does not know how to express his feelings" -.-.- -> hsisikaiss I love this sm :D Kinda made him more of a bully with a soft spot, -- more delinquent than anything, but I absolutely kept your lovestruck lil' Sukuna, so cute <3

-----

> Modern!School!AU 

   > Bully!Delinquent!Sukuna x Reader 

*I made him a biker too,— he’s such a lil’ biker bitch 

-!! CW: depictions of violence, (not aimed at Reader), -- smoking [don't actually smoke please, that shit kills you :(]

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

(he's my lil' cutie patootie)

˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

———————

Ryomen Sukuna— who from a young age could never really communicate his feelings. Who would push all the other kids off the playground because they were clogging up the slide. Who never once expressed remorse when setting fire to that poor ant colony with his mini magnifying glass. Who was labeled as a “troubled” child. Who skipped grades because he was so freakishly intelligent. Who never had to try in school. Who fell off his Lightning McQueen bike the second he saw you on the playground. He immediately shoved his way through the swarm of other kids, butted his way into your lil’ game of tag, invited himself to play and proceeded to shove your tiny body into the grass, laughing maniacally. 

Pissed, you grabbed him by the hair, yanked harshly and threw him down on the ground next to you, — engaging in the most intense wrestling match either you had ever had in your short lives. Stuck in the nurse’s office with his Despicable Me bandaid and getting scolded by every staff member in the school, Sukuna could only stare at you, completely enamored by you and your fiery spirit so akin to his own.

————-

Sukuna would pull up to school everyday on his motorbike, making as much noise possible and spewing exhaust everywhere, just to spite the Environmental Club members who continuously berated him for air pollution. 

He didn’t vape— no no, he wasn’t a lil’ pussy bitch. Sukuna was a man, he smoked straight cigars, the kind you’d only ever see your grandpa piping,— and it was disgusting

He’d do it just to annoy you too. When you walk outside for lunch, he’d exhale a rather generous amount of smoke right in your face, earning him a string of curses in response. He’d just smile, chuckle and walk away 

Sukuna is a rather intimidating individual, — towering over everyone in a room,- tatted up with the most gorgeous inky designs you’d ever seen. His favorite shirts always revealed a generous amount of his beefy, muscular arms. The thin fabrics clung to his figure, showing clearly defined muscles (and those phat milk jugs hoooooly cow) 

He’d be that guy wearing fucking kakis in the middle of winter 💀 

Fucking shit his muscular thighs too?? Holy smokes I’m drooling 🤤

Sukuna was always alone, and he preferred things that way. He didn’t have a band of lackeys behind him all the time— though plenty deeply admired him— he didn’t need them anyways to look every bit the tough guy delinquent who was unafraid to get physical. 

—- and he was physical. Like, he was always finding his way into a fight,— and always came out on top. Starting something with this guy was a death wish. Everyone in the school knew who he was, and everyone in the school— including the teachers — respected him out of fear

He never picked on anyone who’d be considered an “easy target”. No no, that’d be way too easy. Where’s the fun in that? Nah, he goes straight for the person on top— the cockier the better. He’s more than happy to beat up a fellow delinquent 

You, however, seem to catch his eye in particular. So fiery, so fierce,— you take everything he throws at you and chuck it right back at him. There’s a deep sentiment of respect between the two of you, underneath all the petty arguments and crude insults 

He never hangs out with anyone, but Sukuna loves to spend his time tailing you wherever you go, teasing and nagging every step of the way. He nitpicks everything you do, whether it be simply reading a book, talking to a peer, or even just eating. He’s always there, always watching your every move. 

You’d be talking with a friend, discussing plans for the weekend, when all of a sudden pure horror etched itself onto their face, a massive shadow looming over the two of you. Confused, you swivel around, face almost colliding with Sukuna’s chest. He looked down on you, a shit eating grin on his face. Your friend only slightly stammers a “gotta go see ya later” before making a run for it, (you really couldn’t blame them, Sukuna really was a weirdo sometimes). 

He likes to scare everyone who approaches you, making them run off practically screaming 

For all the verbal grief he gives you, for all the times he’s called you a “brat” and told you how “annoying” and “unbearable” you are,  Sukuna absolutely blows up the second he sees some other bastard berating you. 

One time, Mahito and his creepy lil’ gang of goonies thought it’d be funny to corner you after school. Laughing, they mocked you, turning almost borderline physical as they made an effort to manhandle you into a locker. 

Sukuna was livid, saw shit going down and immediately rushed to the scene, coming up behind Mahito and giving him the gnarliest death stare you’ve ever seen,— crimson eyes practically burning with barely restrained fury. Mahito pissed himself on the spot immediately, — and was lucky he even made it out alive that day. 

Sukuna grabbed the goon that had reached out to touch you, twisted his arm, and smashed his head in on the locker door. 

Then after school he almost “accidentally” plowed them all down with his bike 😞 

Needless to say, no one ever gave you trouble ever again— minus Sukuna, of course

--

He just wants you all to himself,— is that so wrong? He wants that raging passion in your eyes to be reserved for him and only him. He loves seeing you all pent up, face red and scrunched up in anger. That delicious heat in the center of his stomach threatened to boil over every time he laid his eyes on you. Sukuna was down bad. The beefy, all scary delinquent was smitten, — he of all people had a big, fat crush. He never wanted you to look at anyone the way you looked at him. He’d beat their head in, then you’d have to look at him

Shotgunning- this guy absolutely loves inhaling the smoke from his cigar, grabbing and yanking you close just so he could exhale it down your windpipe. Lips lightly brushing, sometimes he’d stick his tongue in, just to taste the smoke in your mouth. He adores the way his smoke and saliva mixes with your own, especially loving it when he kisses you stupid, drool pooling in the corner of your mouth, all for him to lick away  

Sukuna would mark you up good. Even if they don’t know who, everyone knows you're taken with the way hickeys adorn your pretty little neck. He loves your neck, loves biting into the soft, pulsating flesh and leaving his bite marks all around. —Same with your shoulder, anywhere that isn’t covered by clothing he makes sure is branded 

He delights in the way you grab him by the strap of his tank top, pulling him into whatever unoccupied room is available: janitor’s closet, a closed bathroom, the locker rooms- anywhere. You’d kiss him silly, hands gripping at his tough, muscular thighs, your nails digging into the hard flesh. Your fingers tracing over his slutty thigh tattoos always had him going feral. He loved the aftertaste of your chapstick / lipgloss on his tongue, there still even hours after you’d make out 💋 😋

Sukuna was in absolute heaven on those rare occasions you’d both stay after class. Empty classroom, blind drawn and door locked as you’d get down on your knees and suck his cock. Your pretty lips wrapped around him always had him coming quick. You’d swallow him whole, throat bobbing from his spurting cum. He’d bend down afterwards— feeling like he’d die otherwise— and kiss you sloppily on the lips, licking away his cum from the corner of your mouth, groaning at the taste of himself. 

His breasts are so sensitive, all you’d have to do is just swirl your tongue around a nipple and he’s puddy in your arms. You loved his breasts, cooing about his “man boobs” just to see him turn a brilliant red to match his crimson eyes. 

His big digits always did wonders to your body, rubbing small, purposeful circles into your pulsating heat / hard on,— sometimes right in the middle of class, just to fuck with you. Your glassy-eyed glare while you fought to bite your lip always had him hardening within his pants. He really couldn’t get enough of you. 

Yeah, you were stuck with Ryomen Sukuna and his merciless teasing. Was it all that bad?— No, no, not at all. Were you complaining? — absolutely not. (At least he had some nice phat jugs for you to fondle). 

He loved you too much to stop his cruel words and affectionate touches,— and he was going to make sure you stayed right beside him,— exactly where you belong. 

————

A/N: i love him and i'd die for him

[mossgh0st]

As If It’s Heaven’s Gate (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Summary | Levi is caught in a dark place following the battle of heaven and earth. Believing he’s undeserving of life’s sweetness, he deprives himself until you show up on his doorstep. Inspired by and based on Too Sweet by Hozier.

Content | Angst, Fluff. Sort of slow burn? No use of y/n. Levi is a grump, reader is shorter than him. Brief mentions of off-screen sex. Italics are song lyrics that each section is inspired by.

Pairings | Levi/Reader. Mentions of Jean/Pieck.

Notes | As soon as I heard Too Sweet, I knew I needed to write about Levi. Header is from ‘kii on Pinterest. Hope you enjoy!

——————————————————————————

It can’t be said I’m an early bird, it’s 10 o’clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?

After the war, Levi becomes a creature of the night. His meticulous bedtime routine and eves of deep, restful slumber have become wrought with nightmares, teeming with the faces of everyone he’s ever loved having succumbed to their bitter ends. He’s forgone the tea, a relic of a previous era; he now prefers an amber liquid that stings on the way down. A balm that numbs, heavy bottomed glass filled only a quarter of the way. When he ventures beyond the confines of his home, he asks for the tippy top of the top shelf - Levi always takes his whiskey neat.

You know you don’t gotta pretend. Baby, now and then, don’t you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake, smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

Some days, he’s lucky if he retires before the sunrise peeks over the hills and pulls itself up to the high point of the sky. Letters go unanswered, bookshelves less sparse as he fills the majority of his time with thick, leather-bound tomes. The newspaper has becomes the perfect kindling, headlines boasting peace negotiations melt and turn runny with the heat of the blaze. When Levi wakes each hazy afternoon, it’s with the lingering scent of bonfire strung about the atmosphere. His once grey eyes have turned deep, a color so sharpened it resembles the water on a lake just before the claps of thunder rumble and bring down swells of rain.

But while in this world, I think I’ll take my whiskey neat. My coffee black and my bed at three.

He knows he won’t live forever. He’s not at all interested. At this point, he’s pleading for the same sweet release from the world he afforded Erwin. Levi has spent so much time dwelling in the night, the darkness is threatening to become him. Then, you show up, one damp afternoon. Modest sundress, two small bags, a green ribbon tying back your hair. The glow you emanate is too much for him. He wants to be angry, filled with a rage so intense it convinces you to leave running in the midst of the spring storm, ribbon flying behind you. The pit in his stomach solidifies when he can’t bring himself to be irate, softened by the cold flush of your cheeks and the sheepishness of your smile as you stand, delicate in his doorway.

You’re too sweet for me, you’re too sweet for me.

At first, your presence does nothing to alter his routine. You rise with the sun, the first blinks of morning are spent brewing a sweet coffee in his kitchen, silent save the chattering of the birds. The dregs of his previous evening’s fire catching in the wind and mingling with the scent of bitter coffee grounds. Levi rises long after the sun has hit it’s peak, emerging in loose slacks and a half undone shirt, the sleeves rolled. You cross paths only briefly, while he pours his glass of amber whiskey and you prepare your cup of evening tea. A silent understanding has occurred - you can stay, if you don’t intervene. So you read in the overgrown garden, take your coffee with milk and two sugars, visit the bookstore, the seamstress down the block from the town’s main square, and worry about him only when you are tipping over the ledge into sleep.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate.

The first change is subtle: tea leaves are disappearing faster than you’re brewing them; you know he’s dipping into the store after you retire each evening. Then, when the usual night terrors creep up again, plaguing your mind and leaving your lungs in a vice grip, the second change occurs. Levi waking and comforting you after a string of particularly violent dreams, a different sort of understanding passes when he murmurs, “I still see them, too.” You find him in your bed then, most mornings. Your routines still separate, bodies occupying different halves of the day for weeks. Coffee, bookstore, seamstress, reading, garden. It continues on, life in your solitary bubbles, except the brief overlapping in the early morning when your breaths mingle in the same space between your sleeping forms.

I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong.

The paradigm shifts once more when he begins to rouse the same time as you. A brief wave of shame washes over you as you realize he’s already awake, you cannot observe his closed eyes and smoothed forehead, the lines of his face set in peace, the soft parting of his lips, or the slow rise of his chest beneath the thin blankets. That morning, you show him how to make the coffee, and he grumbles after burning the first pot, squinting in the bright light. He notices you smiling out of the corner of his eye and something rattles around in his chest. You add three sugars to your cup. He accompanies you to both the bookstore and the seamstress, his silent presence a new comfort. Levi wants to ask why you chose him, chose his home, when there are happier and more accommodating friends, current or former members of the 104th. There’s no doubt in his mind that you’d be better off with someone like Mikasa, in her quiet cottage by the sea. Even Jean and Pieck, or hell, Reiner and his family.

You're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain.

Within a few months, Levi’s world has changed. It’s brighter, fuzzy around the edges. There’s a few sundresses in the closet of his room, a growing stack of books on his dresser. A knit shawl is draped over the chair in the living room; and the guest bed hasn’t been used in several weeks. He lets her brew the coffee in the morning, his palate now well suited for the taste, and takes chrysanthemum tea in the evenings. The garden has a bench now, front row to the beds of geranium, lavender, and snapdragon. When you smile at him through the kitchen window, an understanding dawns on him, an awakening blooms inside of him. He’s seen this look before, many times; over a shared water jug during an expedition, sleepy and exhausted over a fire surrounded by their comrades, during meetings with military leadership, after the battle of heaven and earth, and on the day you were assigned to his squad. You would never go to Mikasa’s, or to Jean and Pieck, even Reiner, or anyone else. He would never let you.

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape.

The first touch of morning is chill, a breeze dancing its way through the open window, sheet gathered at his waist as Levi rouses from sleep. He hears your hums from the kitchen and swings his feet over the bed. He’s drawn to you like bees are to flowers, cloying aroma and sunlight and all things good. Forgoing the tie of his robe, he begins purposeful strides down the hall. Then, you’re there, back turned and hair down. The hem of your pale nightgown sways as you wait for the pour of coffee, glowing in the sunrise, hands over your upper arms to stave off the late summer air. You’re lost in a daydream. Levi comes to stand behind you, listening to the melody you hum quietly. The deprecating, nagging voice he contends with daily in his mind is quieted - it’s just you now; always you.

If you could sit in a barrel, maybe I’d wait.

It’s quiet when he slides an arm around your waist, body warm and flushed. It’s quiet when you turn in his hold, meeting his grey gaze with lingering surprise and pink cheeks. It’s quiet as he pulls you in closer still, hands coming up to rest on his chest. Quiet, as Levi brushes his forehead against yours, eyes closed, fingers flexing in their hold of you. Completely silent, as he tilts your chin up, up, up, and brushes his lips with yours. The taste of you nothing like he had ever dreamed, and oh, had he dreamed. When you push up onto your toes to deepen the pressure, sigh into his mouth, his black bitter heart nearly bursts through his chest.

Until that day…

And when he takes you shortly after, coffee long forgotten, limbs so tangled it’s near impossible to discern where you end and Levi begins, lips parted and dewy with sweat and each other; he can only think of the sweetness this life has afforded him in you, how the bitterness of his past has made way for this belonging.. well. There’s truly no such thing as too sweet, is there?

[janeyseymour]

Panera's Box

Summary: Melissa goes through man after man, while you watch. Finally, you shoot your shot, and it open's a whole Pandora's Box (or Panera's box... according to her).

WC: ~2.65k

Since working at Abbott Elementary, you’ve had one of the biggest crushes on that ridiculously tough, yet somehow still warm and loving, second grade teacher that works across the hall from you.

By some grace of God, she’s seemed to take a liking to you too. You’ve found yourself to be a part of the Abbott crew and being invited out for various events or happy hours. You quite like it, spending time with all of them, but it’s also made the feelings that you have for Melissa Schemmenti only that much more intense. And that was before you started going over to her house for dinner every Wednesday.

You don’t say anything though. She still intimidates you to a certain degree, and she’s constantly in some sort of relationship or situationship. So your feelings for the spicy Italian teacher remain unknown to everyone in the school, and you fully intend on keeping it that way.

“Any plans tonight?” you ask her as you’re sitting together at lunch one day.

She shrugs. “I’m supposed to go out with Rob tonight, but I don’t know if I’m feeling it.”

“That’s nice,” you say quietly. “Why aren’t you feeling it though?”

Melissa sighs. “He always wants to go out and do something… sometimes after a day like today, all I want to do is curl up on the couch with a good book while my music plays and my candles burn.”

You chuckle softly. “That sounds like what I’ll be doing tonight.”

“No after school plans for you?” she asks. You shake your head. “When was the last time you were on a date?”

“Too long ago.”

“When was your last date?” the second grade teacher asks again.

You hum as if you’re thinking, but you know exactly when your last date was. It was two weeks into working at Abbott, and while the woman was very sweet, you had not gone out on a second date with her because Melissa Schemmenti was on your mind the whole time. “It’s been a while. Maybe two weeks into starting work here?”

“Girl, that was over two years ago. Maybe we should get you onto the dating sites… anyone would be lucky to get to go out with you.”

There is was… anyone would be lucky to get to go out with you- but you were never on her radar.

“I’m going to politely decline the idea of me being on dating sites,” you wave a hand in dismissal. You don’t want to meet anyone new. You know exactly who you want, and she’s so close, yet so far. You’ve held off dating since starting to work at Abbott and finding yourself catching feelings for the woman next to you, and you really can’t see yourself going out with anybody else until you either get the girl or you get over your silly schoolgirl crush. 

“Oh, c’mon,” she presses on. “I think it would be fun to see you out on dates.”

“Like you, I would much rather to prefer to curl up on the couch with a good book under a mountain of blankets after a day at work,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll find the right person who is content to do that with me when the right time comes.”

Melissa blinks a few times… that’s what she wants too. But, you’re- you’re a woman, and she hasn’t been with a woman since her college days. She doesn’t want to open herself up to that again if she can help it.

The bell rings, indicating that lunch is over, and you stand with a sigh. “Have a nice rest of your day, Melissa.”

“Thanks, hun,” the redhead replies. She can’t help but notice that your tone is a bit more somber after that conversation, and she makes up her mind that she won’t push you into dating again. Maybe she overstepped a boundary that she wasn’t aware was there. 

That night, the redheaded woman does end up going out with Rob, although she’s unsure why it just doesn’t feel right. She feels like she should maybe just be curled up on her couch, a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, and under a few blankets… and preferably with you.

She ends the night with a short goodbye and an apology that she just doesn’t see that it’s going to go anywhere. She ends up texting you once her date is over and she’s changed into her lounge wear.

Hey. You up for coming over? I got blankets, books, and wine.

When you see the notification, you squint your eyes. I thought you were going out with Rob tonight.

I did… and then I ended it.

I’ll be over in ten. You sigh as you pull on your shoes. You were really comfortable in your recliner with your favorite novel, but if Melissa had just ended it with Rob, you are going to be there for her.

When you pull up to her townhouse, she opens the door with a smile. You can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks sans makeup and hair pulled up into a messy ponytail.

“You look awful happy for a woman who just ended a relationship,” you quip as you make your way into her place.

“Wasn’t a relationship,” the redhead retorts right back. “But I was thinking about what you were saying earlier… I should be doing what I want with someone I care about, and what I want to do is curl up and read a good book with you.”

That makes you pause. Nevertheless, you sit down on the couch next to her and pull your book from your bag. She makes her way into the kitchen and returns a few seconds later with a bottle of wine and an extra glass.

“You good with a red blend?” Melissa asks you. You just nod as you open your book. You fully intend on just sitting here and enjoying your book with a friend until she decides that she wants to talk about her split- if she truly hadn’t wanted to talk about it, you wouldn’t be here right now.

The redhead sits down next to you, close enough that your arms are brushing together, and she sips her wine. You do everything you can in order to focus on your book, but it isn’t really working. Not when Melissa’s chin rests on your shoulder as she reads your book over your shoulder.

“I thought when you invited me over, you would be reading your own book,” you chuckle softly.

She shrugs. “I like your book more.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but you move the book so that she can see it a bit better. Her body doesn’t move from next to you. In fact, she only gets closer and an arm is slung around your waist.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

The redhead shrugs her shoulders again, and she rests her head on your shoulder. It’s a few more minutes of reading together before you start to get in your head.

It’s been five minutes since you turned the page, and Melissa looks at you curiously. She’s read the page three times, so she knows that you should’ve been able to read it too. Your eyes are a bit glazed over and unfocused as you stay in your head, mind swirling with why she was doing this.

“Hun,” the redheaded woman jostles you slightly. You don’t react. “Y/N.”

You jolt out of your trance. “Huh?”

“We’ve been on this page for five minutes,” she notes quietly. “What’s going on through that pretty head of yours?”

“What are you doing?” you finally ask after about thirty seconds of silence.

“Reading with you?” the redhead furrows a brow. “I thought that was obvious though.”

“No,” you close your book. “Why am I here? Why aren’t you out with Rob?”

“I told you that,” she sighs. “I didn’t want to go out with him anymore. I’m not sure I want to go out with any man anymore. They just don’t provide the warmth I need right now.”

You take a deep breath and look her in the eye before you shoot your shot. “Then go out with me.”

Melissa sits up straight as her eyes widen just slightly, and her jaw drops. “What?”

“Go out with me then,” you say again. “You’re always talking about how you want someone who isn’t always looking for fancy places and things to do- that you sometimes just want someone to sit with and read a book. That you want someone who will go out and just do trivia with a glass of wine- someone that you’re comfortable with. I’m that person for you.”

“Y/N,” she sighs. “I haven’t been with a woman since college.”

“And?” you ask her. “Why should that matter? I flirt with you, you flirt with me, I’m sitting in your house doing exactly what you want to do with a partner anyway!”

“I-” the redhead looks down at her hands. “Listen, Y/N: I can’t deny that I am attracted to you, and I have been, but-”

“There shouldn’t be a but,” you state. “I like you, you just admitted that you like me.”

“But,” she continues. “I haven’t been out with a woman since I was in college… I don’t know if I want to open that Panera’s box.”

“Pandora’s box,” you roll your eyes. 

She huffs. “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t,” you sigh. “I don’t understand why you won’t just give this a chance. You’re constantly talking about wanting love and finding that person who gets you- who else gets you better than I do? I know that you do a little happy dance when something’s gone your way. I know that you have to have at least two cups of coffee before you even get to school, but if you have more than two more at school before lunch you’re a jittery mess. I know that you take your coffee with two creams and a teaspoon of sugar. I know that your bark is way bigger than your bite,  and even then I know that you would kill for any of us at Abbott despite saying that the only person you would kill for is Barb. We’ve had countless dinners together and shared so many bottles of wine that I lost count because you don’t want to go out and would rather stay in. I’m willing to give you everything, but if you’re going to be foolish enough to deny it just because you don’t want to open a ‘Panera’s box’, then fine.” You grab your bag and start to stand.

“Y/N,” Melissa grabs your wrist gently. “I-”

“It’s fine,” you rip yourself away from her and head for the door. “Just let me go while I still have some of my dignity left.”

The redhead stands and rushes for the door, blocking you from leaving. “Just listen.”

You cross your arms over your chest, a hip popped out just slightly as you stare her down. “What? Didn’t you do enough?”

“Y/N,” the woman says quietly, unsurely. “Listen… I do like you, I really like you. And I want to throw caution to the wind and say yes, that we should try us. But you have to understand my hesitation. I’m a none-your-business year old woman who has already had a failed marriage, and the last relationship I was in ended in a publicly humiliating divorce. I don’t… I don’t have a great track record with relationships, and I wouldn’t want to ruin that with you. And then there’s the fact that we’re coworkers- if we were to try it and it wouldn’t work, we would still have to work together. And I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t be able to do that. And then… I wasn’t kidding when I said I haven’t been with a woman since college- I don’t even know if I have what it takes anymore to be what you need. I- I know I act like I have it all together and I know exactly what I want and know how to get it, but that just isn’t true- because I want you, but I’m terrified. I don’t know if I can even open up this panera’s box at my age, and yet I want to try. I want to try for you.”

You just sigh and look away. “You don’t have to say all of this to make me feel better about the rejection.”

“I’m not,” she tells you as she takes your hand in hers. “I want this, but I am beyond scared that I’m going to mess this up… that I’ve been out of the game for too long, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You already did,” you mutter. “You’ve been toying with my emotions since I started working at Abbott.”

“And I didn’t mean to,” she tells you genuinely. “I thought it was all innocent, until it wasn’t and I caught feelings.”

You just shake your head as you roll your eyes. 

“But I’m here now,” she says softly. “And I- I’m willing to open that Panera’s box for you- one date to show me that this is worth it.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you say softly as you reach for the doorknob.

She takes your hand back in hers. “I don’t have to. But I want to.” And then her lips are pressed against yours.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[unabashednightmarepizza]

A/N: This is like the backstory of both AUs I'm writing, minus the Dainsleif love from hundreds of years ago in "Last Champion" and the one with the regular SAGAU.

And yes, this is me begging for some SAGAU, Creator!Reader ideas/requests alonsgide with Dainsleif and Baizhu, or any other characters

Okay so, in both of the Creator!Reader AU's I'm writing, reader favoures Khaenri'ah more but never outly says it in fear of a War or the Archons not taking it well. They are the "pride and joy" of Them, (the people worships Them, and yes they are godless in a way but they devoted themselves to the Creator so who is mightier? Mondstadt? Natlan?) and when not even the Archons or the Four Shade knew of the Creator's face, They were sitting with Dain eating peacefully or playing with the children of Khaenri'ah as They let the younger ones play in wonder with Their powers, the makeshift toys and park with Their golden powers, with Their starry hair and braid it as they liked.

It wasn't a norm, nor was it forbidden to be touchy with their Creator since They insisted on it. Every day, the Creator would come and watch them, or up on the throne, as they accomplished more and more each day.

And in the meantime, They also understood their ambitions and love for the nature of life. They had become much more humane, understanding of feelings and why they did what they did and why they reacted in certain ways.

The first time They felt pain was one that gave Dain nightmares-

But the day They felt love was... even more chaotic and also wholesome.

Platonic love when a mother rushed to her child when the kid fell and romantic öne when They... saw a couple kissing.

"Dain, what's that?" You pointed softly with a confused tilt of your head and Dain had to refrain from smiling softly at you.

He had a reputation to uphold, even if it included his God.

"Hmm? Oh, a couple, Your Grace." He stated obviously, watching you hum for a second before your starry eyes found his blue, star-shaped one and caught it in a soft and intense way. You held his hand thightly in yours, your heart beating loudly inside the mortal cages of this body as a foreign feeling coursed through you... Unknown to the way Dain's heart as well beated harshly under his own as a blush rose to his pale cheeks.

"And what are they doing?"

"They are kissing... It's what people who love each other do." He said breathlessly and stared at your lips. That was wrong, but you were just so kind... so understanding and loving.

And all the time you two spent together made hım slowly fall for you, all the time he watched you force someone in the palace to have a walk with you or play pranks while trying to stiffle his own chuckles captured his heart.

"So... does that mean we can do that too?"

*shocked Pikachu Dain as he tried to explain that you can't do that with everyone but your lover*

But, no one could deny the fact that their captain was so obviously in love with Them. So captivated and enchanted by them that it really touched their heart whenever they saw him carrying You between his arms with a lovesick smile as you laughed serenely, lighting their souls and heart up, while pointing to somewhere that caught your attention.

There were some that preferred you to show the same affection to the Royal family, but most were pleased and happy that it was someone they relied on. So much so that there were many festivals on both of your names, though you two sneaked away and under a white canopy...

Had your first kiss ever, with a promise ring soon gifted to each other that represented eternity with your pure love.

You foolishly believed everything would be better, no one would suspect anything and you would get to court him peacefully. You didn't slack on your job, and Dain understood that. Of course he did! He was glad and happy that he had the eternal love of the Creator after all, and the times you two spent time together in either his or your bed, talking idly with him tracing shapes on your back and you listening to his heart as you laid on his chest, creating even more memories to look back to, the lights of the City reflecting on your bodies as your love for the man warmed him in a protective cacoon...

It was true heaven for both you, Teyvat and Khaenri'ah.

But nothing good lasts forever, not when you forgot one trivial thing

Celestia knows tho, all the times you ascended down It watched you with jealousy and hatred as all your affection was poured on them and this Dainsleif. It was your first creation, It was there before Teyvat, that Dainsleif was there. It was who you loved the most once...First the Archons, and now Khaenri'ah took you away from Them.

And if They had to get rid of them, and all the people that took you away... So be it.

And shit goes down to when the Cataclysm happens and as the Creator, who also had to fight Celestia so that your children would be safe, at one last attempt at defending and protecting Khaenri'ah who had become more like an actual home that people you should have never cared for in the beginning, you give away your powers so that they would be saved from the evil clutches of Celestia and live.

(Even though it wasn't enough to prevent the "immortality curse" and "eroison".)

But! That also means that Celestia would be able to easily overpower Them and torn the Creator!Reader apart, to make Them even more weaker to chain them forever with them, or maybe away from Teyvat to where they could watch Them forever.

And Dain, as your beloved, is obviously angry. Angry at everything, at the curse on him that slowly ate his memories with you away, his humanity away but then... Then he remembers, he remembers the time you worriedly told him that Celestia had been acting strange, like what they called "a spoiled child".

But you never even for once thought about the possibility of your first creation to betray you like that, even when he talked about his concerns about your safety, to be more cautious.

"They are my first ever, we have been side by side for so long, They would never do that!"

And now, you were forced to watch as they... everyone screamed in pain and agony, begging for help and loosing their minds, and their lives... Dain becoming the shell of the man he once was as he became a nomad... Ei loosing Makoto, Morax loosing his friends and Guizhong, Barbatos loosing that batd friend of him that thought him of Freedom, Buer giving herself away...

But none of them, not even for once blaming you.

But, if there was one thing Celestia didn't think about... It was the fact that you would never leave your people alone to die, to perish.

And as you waited in the shadows, in a deep slumber, until your time came, you silently made your plans.

For now... You let Celestia believe that They were victorious.

For now... They wouldn't face the true wrath of the Creator, as they too, changed.

[cuubism]

I'd love something about Dream who's very aware that he's way too intense romantically while also being not intense enough sexually because he's ace. His partners usually prefer it the other way around. If that's something you'd be willing to write (if not that's okay too)

hmm yes, we can always do ace dream. though we didn't quite reach 'aware' 😂 human uni au is what popped to my mind

--

When Hob gets back from class, Dream is lying facedown on the couch, one long arm trailing morosely down to the floor, face smashed so deeply into a pillow that Hob can only see the tufts of his hair. He seems to have been there for some time, and doesn't move when Hob comes in.

"Horrors insurmountable today?" Hob asks as he puts down his bag and heads to the adjoining kitchen to grab a snack. He'll probably need to grab one for Dream, too, now that he thinks about it. Doubtful he's eaten.

Dream just makes an mmph sound against his pillow. Then, once Hob's returned to the living room with a plate of apple slices, Dream pops his head up, lines all over his cheek from the pillow, fluffy hair going every which way, and says, "How much do you care about sex?"

Hob nearly trips and flings his apple slices everywhere. "What?"

"In general," Dream persists, heedless of Hob's shock. "Do you subscribe to the belief that individuals past puberty, particularly men, think about sex constantly, or is that an exaggeration? Which do you think is more important in a partnership: compatible personalities, or compatible sex drives? And why?"

"What is this, a sociology assignment?"

"Answer, please," Dream insists.

Hob sighs and gives in to the mad questioning. Joke's on him for having an insane roommate. "I thought about sex all the time when I was thirteen, maybe. Right now I'm just thinking about how I haven't eaten since breakfast and I'm fucking starving but we're playing Twenty Questions instead of eating. And as to the second one, I don't know, Dream, I think both are probably important."

"So you think about sex an amount you would consider 'frequent'," Dream presses.

Hob's cheeks heat. Sex is not really a topic he wants to discuss with Dream of all people. Those two thoughts don't meld together into anything good for polite company. "I don't know, I guess!? Doesn't everyone?"

Dream lets out a despairing wail and thumps his head back into his pillow. "I am outnumbered."

Hob still has no idea what the hell he's on about. He finally gives up and just starts eating the apple slices. He offers one to Dream, holding it by the corner of his eye until he finally sees it and takes it, turns his head to the side just enough to start nibbling on it.

"You'll choke if you eat that lying down," Hob warns.

Dream begrudgingly pushes himself up, collapsing against the back of the couch, and goes back to nibbling on his apple slice.

"So," Hob continues, awkwardly, when Dream doesn't say anything else, "sex life not going so well, then?"

Dream glares at him, though it's not very intimidating considering the apple halfway into his mouth. "Too well, by most standards," he finally sniffs, and eats the rest of the slice.

"Oh, yeah?" Dream having sex is another thing Hob doesn't really like to think about. Why'd he bring that up again?

"Indeed. I have suitors falling over each other to bed me," Dream says.

Do all classic literature students talk the way Dream does? Hob doesn't know. It's been two years that they've lived together and he's still yet to definitively figure out if it's an affectation or just the way Dream is. He's leaning towards the latter.

Unfortunately, he can believe Dream's statement. Dream is a snitty little prick most of the time, but he's also unbearably beautiful.

"So what's the problem, then?" he asks.

"I don't want them to bed me," Dream says.

Hob's not following. "Say no, then?"

Dream rolls his eyes. "I don't want them to bed me, I want them to want me." His voice loses some of its determination halfway through the sentence, and he looks away.

Ouch. "Sounds like they do want you?"

Dream snorts. "Only so long as it suits them. Only so long as I fit their parameters. Today I spoke to Cori--"

Ah, yes, Cori, Dream's most recent ex-boyfriend. Dream's had a lot of ex-boyfriends, but Cori really tops the list, and not in a good way.

Now that Hob thinks about it, all of Dream's relationships kind of go the same way. Dream comes home after the first date bouncing off the walls with stars in his eyes insisting this person's the one, and within two months the thing's somehow torpedoed into the Underworld and Hob's scraping Dream up off the bathroom floor.

He's starting to see where the initial line of questioning might have come from.

"--and he, at last, was straightforward with me when no one else has bothered to be all this time. I demanded to know, truthfully, why he ended things, and he told me that I 'care too much, but won't put out'--"

Hob winces.

"--which does not make sense, as we had sex frequently? I do not know what else I am meant to be 'putting' and where. I said as much, and he laughed, and said--" he imitates Cori's voice with a surprisingly passable American accent-- "'It only counts if you at least pretend you want to be there, doll. Next time try initiating occasionally.' He left before I could question him further."

Hob doesn't like the picture this is painting. And Dream is looking at him beseechingly, like Hob might be able to explain the bizarre encounter. "So... now you're trying to figure out if your understanding of sex is wrong or something?"

"I felt that, as a neutral observer to the situation, you would be appropriate to survey," Dream says.

(Neutral is a stretch, Hob thinks.)

"So I ask you, Hob Gadling, as a man demonstrably unbothered by 'hookup culture'--"

"Are you calling me a slut?"

"--what do you think is the correct amount that one should care about sex? Because I--" he breaks off, twisting his fingers in his hair, suddenly anxious-- "I do not know what I am doing wrong."

Hob moves to sit beside him, lays a hand lightly on his arm. He's about to say, you're not doing anything wrong, except... that may not precisely be true. At least in terms of how Dream is actually handling it with his partners.

"How much do you care about sex?" he asks.

"Not as much as I am supposed to, evidently," Dream says. Hob just waits for him to elaborate. "Not very much. I prefer not to think about it." He looks at Hob, weary. "Now you will tell me that this is abnormal."

"I don't know what's 'normal'," Hob says. "But it does sound different from how Cori felt about it."

"I suppose," Dream says, sadly.

Hob doesn't particularly like where the intersection of 'I don't care about sex' and 'we had sex all the time' lands him. "If you don't care that much, why keep doing it?"

"It is what is done, is it not?" says Dream. "Besides. I do not mind so much. But even when I do participate, it is still not good enough. Or so it seems."

It's because they're picking up on the fact that you're not really enjoying it, Hob thinks. No one wants a partner who's not engaging. Least not anyone decent. But not saying anything and then just dipping out suddenly is kind of a dickish move, in his opinion.

"Do you want to participate?" he asks.

This seems to give Dream pause. "Mostly I would prefer to do other things. Like. Dates. Only that does not seem much appreciated either." He twists his hands together. "Perhaps Cori is right. I. Care too much."

"No." Hob takes Dream's hands and untwists them. "Cori's a dickhead. You just need to find someone who's on the same page as you, that's all."

"But it seems that book is rather empty," Dream says. He hasn't taken his hands back from Hob.

"Well, was there anyone that you did like having sex with? Or has it always just been--" he can't help but cringe-- "you just putting up with it because you thought you were supposed to?"

"Calliope," Dream says instantly, and Hob lets out a relieved breath. At least it's not all bad. "Because, no matter that it ended poorly... I felt that she truly liked me. And not. Just sex."

"Okay, see?" he says. "You just have to find someone like that."

It... hurts, to try to push Dream into someone else's path. But Hob's long accepted that Dream doesn't feel that way about him. Dream rarely seems hesitant about trying to date anyone he is interested in. Surely if he felt that way about Hob, he would have made it clear by now.

"Someone," Dream echoes, looking down at their joined hands.

"Just because what you want isn't common doesn't mean it's not out there," Hob says, trying to be encouraging. "And hey, if you know now, you can avoid the whole 'not on the same page' rigamarole, hm?"

"Yes," Dream says. "I suppose so." Finally he takes back his hands, instead taking another apple slice from the plate Hob's left on the coffee table and chewing on it slowly.

I would love you right, Hob thinks, unwanted, unbidden. It's not a productive thought, and it's a painful one, too.

"Perhaps I will take a break," Dream decides, though doesn't sound entirely happy about it.

"Could be good," Hob says. "Get your head on right."

"Yes," Dream agrees. "This has been. Illuminating. I thank you for your counsel. I suppose I will have to also thank Cori, 'dickhead' though he may be."

And with that he retreats to his room, still seeming a little off-kilter. And Hob can't help but feel like he's gone wrong somewhere, said something wrong, though he doesn't know where, or what.

[thetriplets3]

"you never have to worry about me leaving" w matt?

like, reader had just gotten into it w her parents and they said something along the lines of, "you're unlovable, just wait till that little boyfriend of yours leaves." or smth like that

please and thank you !! 😊😊

❝𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠❞

again i hope this makes sense and that it’s what you wanted

warnings: bad relationship with parents arguing with parents, negative thoughts, relationship doubts, i think that’s all

my parents and i have never seen eye to eye on things, they constantly find things to start arguments about but they never go this far or personal.

“you’re insufferable how does that boyfriend of yours deal with you? you’re exhausting to be around i’m shocked he hasn’t left you yet it’s only a matter of time!” my parents yell, faces red with anger.

this has gone on for so long i don’t even know why they started yelling in the first place, i just zoned out, my thoughts wandering to their words.

how could my parents say that to me? if i’m so insufferable and unloveable to be around why am i even here? am i that much of a burden on everyone? why does anyone keep me around? they probably just feel bad for me. does matt even love me or is it pity? is he just playing me? when will he leave me? why hasn’t he yet?

without thinking i quickly stood up and made my way to my car not even thinking to put shoes on, my mind solely focused on getting out of here. silently i drive to matt’s house, no music, no tears, no thoughts just feeling numb.

i could see matt watching me as i sit in my car with my head slumped against the steering wheel trying to collect myself before going inside. he never left his window, sensing something was wrong he allowed me space to come in when i was ready to.

getting out of the car i let out a sigh and take a deep breath of fresh air in as i make my way to their apartment, letting myself in. giving nick and chris who were in the living room a small hello i headed straight for matt’s room. softly i knock on his door waiting for permission to enter.

“come in baby” he calls out.

he had closed the blinds and turned on his LED lights to blue, knowing i prefer softer lights. he was sitting in bed with his back against the headboard, duvet pulled back, and arms open ready for me to crawl into.

“i’m glad you’re here, i missed you, love. i was gonna text you to see if you wanted to come over and cuddle you must have read my mind” he said, keeping his volume low to match to softness in the room.

with my head on his chest i stayed quiet not know what to say or how to bring it up. he knows about the arguments with my parents but he doesn’t know how intense they’ve gotten and i’m scared to tell him in fear that what they said will be true. he feels my breaths becoming fast and shaky as tears start falling. opting to calm me down instead of forcing me to talk, he runs his fingers delicately up and down my back for a bit before settling in my hair gently massaging it.

“you don’t have to tell me anything. i just need you to calm down you’ll make yourself sick sweetheart” he reassures, taking deep breaths himself, encouraging me to match his breathing as he whispers gentle encouragements in my ear.

this goes on for quite a while before i feel calm enough to tell him what happened.

in the quietest voice i explain what they said, “i don’t even know what i did to make them start yelling at me in the first but they said i’m insufferable and exhausting to be around and they don’t know how you put up with me and they’re shocked you haven’t left me yet” i take a shaky breath. “why are you even with me why haven’t you left me already?” tears pool in my eyes.

“hey hey it’s okay, breath baby. i’m happy you feel safe with me to tell me that” he sits up straighter and pulls me to sit on his lap so we’re face to face. “you are not insufferable and you are not exhausting to be around. you’re the complete opposite i can’t spend a second without you and when i do you’re all i think about. i’m with you because i love you, i love the way you care for people, how gentle you are, how giddy you get when you pass a dog on the street. there’s nothing not to love about you. i’ll spend the rest of my life showing you you deserve to be loved. you never have to worry about me leaving. i’m in it for the long run your stuck with me”

“thank you matt. i’m sorry i questioned our love for me. i love you baby i’m glad you’re here, forever”

“i love you sweet girl, get some rest i’m never leaving”

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs @abbie13sworld @strniolo @luvsturniolo

[artful-aries]

I love your writing! Can I pls request “first I love you” with Diluc, Ayato, Al Haitham, zhongli, and Childe, pls? Ty

I’ve actually already done Alhaitham for this, but everyone else is included!

Saying “I Love You” For The First Time (Diluc, Ayato, Zhongli, Childe)

Diluc

What do you mean Diluc doesn’t say “I love you. Most ardently. Please do me the honor of accepting my hand.”???

Saying he loves you is a difficult task, not because he doesn’t feel that way about you, but he’s terrified of what that would mean

As illogical as it is, he’s scared that if he admits he loves you, it means that he stands to lose you, and he doesn’t think he’s a strong enough man to bear any more grief than he already does

Yet it’s an undeniable fact that he loves you, and he agonizes over the feeling for weeks. It’s so obvious that he’s fretting over something; you and the entire Dawn Winery staff know it by his ceaseless pacing he does whenever he has a spare moment, but when asked about it he writes it off as merely being lost in thought about how to manage the winery better

Once he gathers the courage to admit to himself that he loves you, Diluc still hesitates on telling you his feelings. He doesn’t want you to feel awkward or pressured into loving him, so he resolves to wait until you confess first

That’s what he settles on, yet he finds himself going out of his way to show you he loves you rather than telling you. He gives you more tender kisses, lingering glances, and he even blushes under your gentle caresses of his face or hair. There’s nothing quite like a little love to make a man crumble

His heart always feels like it’s burning when he’s around you, threatening to consume his rationality and his resolve to let you take this relationship at your own pace

Eventually, Diluc finds himself unable to hold it in anymore. You’ll just be sitting with him in his manor, enjoying the peace and quiet when he would suddenly stand up from his desk and walk over to take your hands in his, the intensity of his gaze throwing you off guard a little

“There is no greater honor than to give my heart to you, (Y/N). I love you, and I hope that you feel as strongly for me as I do you.”

He’ll give your hands a soft kiss, the passion burning in his fiery red eyes as he awaits your response. Diluc is graceful should you say that you don’t feel that strongly yet or aren’t ready to give an answer, but that would cut him deeper than he would ever confide in anyone. If you return the sentiment, a soft smile slowly begins to spread on his face, and he’ll ask to kiss you

After the initial confession, Diluc still isn’t one to say he loves you much; despite his almost stoic exterior, verbalizing the overwhelming yearning he feels for you makes him flustered, so he does it seldomly. He prefers to leave that kind of language for intimate moments rather than just saying it as if he was commenting on the weather

Ayato

Calm, cool, and collected at all times, once Ayato has realized that he’s in love with you he is going to be confident in confessing to you, but he is a bit hesitant at first. As the head of the Kamisato Clan, he does worry about the target that might put on your back

It’s not that he’s not confident in his ability to keep you safe, but he wonders if he’s being a bit selfish in putting you in that kind of danger in the first place

Before he settles on confessing, he might ask you about your opinions on love in a roundabout way; guided questions on long term relationships, love, your opinions on his work, and your overall happiness with him now are the tools he uses to find out where he might stand in your heart.

If there is any hint of trepidation, Ayato will not confess to you until a later time. He’s willing to wait until he is old and grey if that is what it takes to ensure that his confession is something you want too. Even if he never finds the right time to confess, he won’t have any regrets

The last hurdle for him to jump through will be to talk to Ayaka. His sister is already aware of his relationship with you, but he thinks it’s important for her to know the depths of his feelings, almost like he’s asking for her blessing. His sister is extremely important to him, so he wants to make sure that she doesn’t have any reservations with how his relationship is progressing, even though he knows Ayaka will be happy for him

Once everything falls into place, Ayato is ready to tell you that he loves you. He wants to make the occasion romantic but very private, so he asks if you’d be willing to accompany him on a walk.

After finding a suitable location away from any prying eyes, he will smile at you and tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear or will gently caress your cheek as he tells you he loves you

It’s simple, yet sweet. After dealing with the politics of the Yashiro Commission and subsequently his own cryptic conversations, he feels that it’s very important for him to speak plainly at this moment. He doesn’t want to play mind games, not with his affections for you

When you return his words he is elated, though outwardly he only has a soft smile on his face as he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in Teyvat

From then on, he’s pretty liberal with his affections; he’s not going to hang all over you and coo at you, but he will tell you every morning that he loves you, and when he returns in the evening after a long day he tells you he loves you then too. No matter how he feels or how tired he is, he doesn’t want you to go a single day without you knowing that you’re loved

Ayato knows better than most that those you love aren’t guaranteed to stay with you forever, so he makes a point to ensure that he never misses an opportunity to give you the affection you deserve

Zhongli

Falling in love is a slow and steady process for him, and before he knows it suddenly he feels like he’s almost suffocating in his feelings for you

Despite this overwhelming emotion, Zhongli remains the sophisticated man he always is, leaving you none the wiser of the hammering of his heart each time he looks at you

With you being a mortal, he has his reservations about confessing his love to you; he felt like it was selfish to subtly tie you down to him, knowing that you would age gracefully over time, and he would remain stagnant. Your mortality was in part what drew him to you, and it hurt to know that the very thing that he adored about you would one day tear you two apart

He spends a lot of his free time reflecting over this fact, and your relationship as a whole. Humans were always changing, like the babbling brook that turns into a river at the first flood. Would you be able to handle the unyielding emotions of a former Archon?

Ultimately Zhongli decides to take a leap of faith, believing in the love that you have shown him thus far and calls you to have a cup of tea with him. Over your afternoon tea, he begins to let the emotions in his heart out

“I want you to know that though the world around us may change and potentially become something unrecognizable, my feelings for you will always remain. They are embedded into the very core of my being. I love you, (Y/N). I can assure you that will never change in all of the millennia to come.”

His confession is unintentionally intense, but it rings true to the depth of his feelings. Zhongli’s love for you reverberates throughout his entire being, and he longs for you to feel the same

When you say that you love him too, he will chuckle slightly before smiling at you, thanking you for your honest response

There is an unspoken tension between you two about the weight of what a mortal loving an immortal would inevitably mean, but Zhongli opts to put those feelings aside for now. He doesn’t want to ruin this jovial moment with the somber talk of the inescapable end of your life

He plans to have that talk with you sooner rather than later, but for now he focuses on making you feel loved rather than just hearing it. He becomes a lot more tender with you, a feat that you didn’t even know was possible when he already cherished you before his confession

It’s almost like he acts like you two are married already, which you most certainly have no complaints about. Hu Tao even jokingly refers to you as “the missus” whenever she talks about you

Childe

This man is ANNOYING when he’s in love. You’ll almost know before he even says the words by how clingy and possessive he gets. He barely lets you out of his sight when he’s not wrapped up in a mission for the Fatui

Not only is he clingy, but he loves to push your buttons now more than ever. Seeing your cute face all scrunched up with frustration or irritation is almost as rewarding as when he gets to kiss you, or the feeling he gets during the heat of battle. Almost.

Despite relishing in your reactions, he takes great care to make sure that you don’t hate him. How is he supposed to tell you he loves you if you can’t stand to look at him?

While waiting for the perfect opportunity to say those three magical words, Childe finds himself daydreaming about you. His thoughts are usually quite sweet considering his usual cutthroat demeanor; he even goes as far as to imagine marrying you, and what your future children will look like. He’s a family man at heart, and is completely head over heels in love with you

If the opportunity to tell you he loves you doesn’t come up naturally, he will make it come up. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, when he’s about to burst at the seams he’s coming to collect you for his romantic confession. You’re at work? He’ll tell your boss an emergency came up before scooping you into his arms and taking off. No matter how much you protest, he will not put you down until he’s brought you to a nice, quiet place

Now that he’s actually about to tell you how he feels, Childe almost gets a bit shy about it as he quietly puts you down, scratching the back of his head as he thinks of how to word this feeling inside him. You can’t help but smirk a little at the rare sight of the speechless, nervous Harbinger in front of you

He eventually finds his bravado again and finally speaks with a soft expression, “Hey (Y/N), listen, I like spending my time with you. You’re smart, funny, resilient, and you’re even cute too, which is a plus.” Childe would dodge a swat from you before continuing, “What I’m trying to say is, I love you. I’d rather die than to love anyone else, you’re my one and only.”

When you say you love him too, he’s grinning ear to ear as he hoists you up again, ignoring your protests as he spins you around with a rare lighthearted laugh. He won’t be able to resist pulling you in for a kiss either, he’s just so ecstatic that you feel the same way he does

If you thought he was annoying before he confessed, he is a living terror after. Even worse, he uses your love as a shield from your anger if you ever complain about his antics. What do you mean he can’t grab your sides to make you jump? Didn’t you say you loved him?

Despite him constantly teasing you, there’s a warm look in his usually cold eyes that you aren’t used to. It’s a bit flattering to you to know that you were able to turn such a hardened, battle hungry man into the doting goofball he was now, even though he got on your nerves sometimes

Childe is never going to let you forget that he loves you, and constantly seeks to bait you into telling him you love him just as much. The man is pretty much on cloud nine around you. With his confession of the depth of his feelings out of the way, his new goal is to find a way to start a family with you, but he knows to bide his time on that topic…for now