#if i missed any. well. assume i don't care about it enough to write up a paragraph lol

[moistvonlipwig]

can i do the same thing to you i did to sssammich and upend all the -corps on your desk or is that too greedy 🥴

looping in @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere since it's easier to do these all in one post ! alphabetical order for funsies under the cut:

agentcorp - no...idk what to say really except the vibes are off for me. sorry chyler </3 i know you wanted to kiss katie so bad. i think alex and lena have similarities & differences (just like every character does with every other character lol) but i personally feel like their specific similarities & differences would cause them to either enable each other's worst aspects or to butt heads constantly. just my onion i know many people disagree and that's fine. also the triple hit of alex trying to nuke lena and justifying it by twisting all her previous good deeds to make them sound bad, lying about it to her face while asking for her help, and then not advocating for her to get her memories back and even encouraging kara to deceive her once again all in quick succession in s5 -- all of which got swept under the rug in s6 -- really soured me on the friendship s4 had built up between them. so i'm not even really a fan of their friendship. tragique :(

braincorp - they are my brotp <333 i don't ship them romantically at all but actually their relationship is probably my favorite relationship on the show period. it helps that they are my 2 fave characters lol but also they are so smart and so bitchy together and i love them <333 brainy is so ride or die for lena even when she gives him literally the worst advice anyone has ever given anyone else in the history of the world and lena feels safe with brainy to express how she really feels and they are kindred spirits. also the parallel to the comics dynamic between brainiac & lex luthor [which should've made it to the show!!! where was the original brainiac???] is poetic. braincorp 4 life !!!

dreamcorp - again i don't ship them at all but it's so bonkers that developing this relationship wasn't more of a priority for the writers. little sisters with asshole siblings who blame themselves for their mother's deaths (and also have magic powers i guess thanks s6 🥴)...the scenes write themselves! or so you would think. i liked that they had some rapport in s6 but also ngl it cracked me up in 6x07 when nia called lena "family" i was like girl this is your first onscreen conversation ever 😭 you are colleagues at best...oh well. i like the idea of them becoming found family though. i don't see the superfriends as a found family (they are actually this cool thing called 'friends' instead) but nia & lena specifically i think could come to lean on each other in a sisterly way.

guardiancorp - so as i've mentioned part of what really piqued my interest in guardiancorp was the reveal that james had 16 scars from lex yet he was able to look past that to see lena for who she was not just as lex's little sister. james as clark's best friend and lena as lex's sister are kind of inherently tied together by the superman/lex drama and i'm interested in how they can work through that to love each other anyway. one thing i find interesting about them is that they are deeply different in ways that could set them at odds -- lena is a luthor, james is team super; lena is a white woman, james is a black man; lena is morally flexible, james is much more morally steadfast/rigid -- yet they are able to find solidarity and common ground with each other despite those things and have each other's backs. a lot of people like to point to the scene where lena & james are completely out of sync at game night as evidence that they were never really right for each other, but the thing i always remember is that lena wanted to practice with him afterwards. she wanted to put in the work. that's actually very romantic to me. another thing i like is how protective they are of each other; morgan edge might call james lena's bodyguard and james might take a bullet for her and dangle morgan edge off a building for her but lena is also HIS bodyguard who would make deals with the DA for him and poison her mother for him. they're each other's guardians. also they are capable of being so powerful and bitchy together like when they went to confront morgan edge in 3x09 that was sooo funny and iconic. i do wish the show built them up better and let us see their friendship properly develop in 3a instead of having them flirt in a couple scenes and then not interact for 4 episodes and then have kara & sam hamfistedly tell us they have chemistry. if i were writing season 3 i would give them a slower build and probably not have them kiss until the balcony scene in 3x17. but oh well. if wishes were horses i would have lots of horses. i wouldn't even know what to do with all those horses. so it's a good thing wishes aren't horses, if you think about it.

kellycorp / goldencorp (that's the name i just came up with now that i am advocating for) - i quite like this idea because it's a kelly ship i can actually get invested in. hooray <3 i think kelly would be good for lena and, crucially, i think lena would be good for kelly. they both are more 'outsiders' to the superfriends than the other members are, as evinced by the two of them being the last to know supergirl's identity, and i think they could bond over that. i could see kelly feeling comfortable being displeased/angry with lena in a way she maybe doesn't with the other superfriends, while also holding space for lena's emotions in a way Certain Other People Who Shall Remain Nameless aren't always very good at. and i could also see lena really enjoying spoiling kelly with her wealth and kelly being kind of into it. also the fact that the showrunners seemed weirdly allergic to putting azie and katie into scenes together, meanwhile azie and katie were supposedly constantly flirting on set and working overtime to try and sneak goldencorp crumbs into the background, suggests to me that their chemistry was so palpable and powerful that TPTB were scared of letting them loose lest the fandom descend even further into ship wars. ...ok that last part is just a silly little conspiracy theory that i made up so please don't repeat it as fact or even as plausible speculation but also why Did the showrunners keep them apart so much 🤔 makes you think !

mirrorcorp [mirrorverse iris/lena aka a ship i invented] - so if you've never seen the flash you are probably thinking: who is mirrorverse iris??? i'm so glad you asked. mirrorverse iris is a clone of iris from the mirror realm which is NOT an 'evil universe' a la star trek, it is instead a world literally inside mirrors. mirrorverse iris was essentially created by mirror monarch (don't ask) for the purpose of infiltrating the normal world. she spends an arc impersonating the real iris and is similar in some ways but is also angrier, more ruthless, and more impulsive. in her last episode she figures out that she wants to be her own person and live life on her own terms not mirror monarch's and she defies mirror monarch during a fight with barry and then she dies. don't like that she died i wish she'd stuck around she was an epic character. but anyway this arc takes place in season 6b of the flash which you guessed it coincides with season 5b of supergirl. so my pitch is that instead of teaming up with lex to continue project nonsense lena goes on a sojourn to central city and meets mirrorverse iris who is impersonating real iris and undergoing an existential crisis/crisis of conscience. and the two bond and become friends. and then mirrorverse iris doesn't die and she and lena have to figure out who they want to be for themselves not just for the people who created them or tried to mold them in their image. and then they kiss about it idk just saying it could be good!

nationalcitydistrictattorneycorp - i mean. you've seen the scene. possibly the most sexually charged scene in the entire show. unclear to me why both actresses decided to play it that way but ok queens !

peggycorp - not my thing but i respect the warriors 👍

reigncorp - sam is imo the best & healthiest friend lena could ask for -- actually the best & healthiest friend anyone on this show could ask for -- but i don't really think their relationship is improved or made more interesting by them dating. i do think they have hooked up in the past and they decided they were better off as friends.

rojascorp - i'm not a rojascorp shipper actually but i believe in their beliefs...andrea and lena definitely dated, i see them as exes who still have affection for each other & sexual tension, i'm just not interested in the idea of them getting back together. if anything i actually worry that andrea might be too deferential to lena? i think she sees herself as deeply indebted to lena and -- whether you're looking at the pre-crisis more interesting timeline where she directly has blood on her hands or the post-crisis less interesting timeline where she tried to kill supergirl & accidentally put william in the line of fire -- i think she has a lot of guilt and she views lena as a moral authority in contrast to her morally 'tarnished' view of herself. which is interesting & juicy because most characters don't view lena that way. but i don't know that it's a great dynamic for a romance.

spheercorp - jack is sweet and rahul kohli is pretty. here endeth my thoughts on spheercorp. ...ok i guess i can say a little more which is that like rojascorp i prefer them as exes/bffs to them getting back together. i also will say that, while i think jack's death contributed to a disturbing trend on the show of killing off south asian characters, i do actually rather like it as a character beat for lena. i enjoy seeing him pop up in fics but in the show itself i think him dying is kind of a better story. sorry jacky :(

supercorp - i mean i think the premise alone is kind of epic and awesome. a super and a luthor but they're in love. like that's just plain cool. plus think of the awkward family dinners! i am always here for ships that will generate awkward family dinners. i also think they have a lot of great comedy scenes together which is always a plus to me shipping-wise, i like ships with a comedic bent. but there's also a lot of juicy drama/tragedy/gay divorce with them too which is also good of course. as a big fan of dramatic irony i like the secret/reveal as a storytelling device i just wish they handled it better post-5x01 (i think 4x22 and 5x01 actually kind of nailed it ngl). i like that they both used each other's kryptonite on the other person and yet they were able to forgive that and love the other person anyway. i mean the actual in-show process of forgiveness was wack but the idea is spicy. and i like that, as kara herself (clunkily) put it in the finale, they really do challenge each other and push each other to be better. as i've mentioned before theirs is a relationship where actions have consequences and where every scene they have matters and affects later scenes, which is unlike.....well, most relationships on the show, frankly. i also tend to think their scenes are just generally better-written and have more subtext (and i'm not just talking about the gay kind) and interesting things going on in them than most of the rest of the show's scenes. for all my many gripes about how s5 & s6 handled their fallout and then kind of just papered over it with platitudes, i still think their relationship is one of the best parts of the show and it's still the major thing that keeps me on the hook.

[imahinatjon]

How it feels to be ignored PT1

Dazai & Chuuya ⛈️

In which they ignore you and it reveals some problems with your relationship

Part 2

Dazai

Its been over 24 hours now and he hasn't texted you back. You know he's okay because he's been online and he's seen your message - that and you asked Yosano to make sure he hadn't successfully died or something.

But nope, he's fine.

You don't think he did it on purpose, probably just quickly checked your message made a mental note to check it later, which he subsequently forgot about. Still, it hurts.

It also has you thinking. You've been in a relationship with this man since he was in the Mafia. You never were part of the Mafia, just someone he met during his time there, and someone he got into a relationship with.

Even when he ran away from the Mafia he kept things going with you, and even now he's part of the armed detective agency, he's still going with you, and you love him more than ever now. But it just doesn't feel the same.

You don't want to hog all his attention, but it somehow feels that he gives you even less attention now than he used too. He forgets about you often, doesn't reply to your messages, forgets that he agreed to come over, forgets when he's arranged to meet you.

You always message Yosano to ask if he's still there or if she knows where he is 30 minutes after the arranged time for your dates, and come to learn that he's perfectly fine, just caught up doing other things.

You just feel... left behind. Like your part of his past that he's slowly letting go of as he gets on with his new life. Just another thing for him to leave and forget about.

You even briefly wonder if there's someone else, but you trust him enough to not be like that.

It does little to provide you any relief though.

You can't take it anymore.

--------

It's been 2 weeks since he last saw you, your last date having been a quick walk through the park - which was nice, but... it didn't change your mind.

You decided not to arrange any plans with him after that, and wait for him to arrange with you. But he didn't. And so now? You head into the ADA office, ready to break up with him. Preferably not infront of all his coworkers, you will of course ask to talk in private.

Alas, he isn't there. Ranpo and Yosano are present in the office, talking by the formers desk, they catch sight of you by the door, both giving you a sympathetic look. Yosano knows what your here too do, and ranpo being - well, ranpo, you assume he knows too.

"He's out at the moment. You just missed him" yosano tells you.

"Oh..."

"You could... write a letter and leave it here? We'll make sure to give it to him"

"I... okay"

You reluctantly agree and yosano gives you everything you need to begin, even Pulling out a chair so you can sit at one of the current vacant desks to write.

And with the detective and doctor looking over your shoulder, you begin your letter.

"Dazai..."

Chuuya

Chuuya didn't usually ignore you, so when he did, you didn't worry too much. At least until it had passed 1 day mark, then you worried a little - you knew the nature of what he did, but also knew he could handle himself.

Still, it concerned you a little when you sent him a message on a day you knew he had no work and he still hadn't replied to you a day and a half later.

Now, you weren't an idiot, and knew what this was probably about - his work. He'd voiced his concerns before, at the start of your relationship, and again during - he's worried about your safety. It's why he rarely ignored your messages and even checked in with you often, he cares, a lot. That just happens to mean he also worries a lot too.

And he does this sometimes. Just stops replying to your messages, hoping you'll drift away and leave him - find someone new and much less dangerous. In the end he usually came back, apologising and telling you about how worried he was feeling and what his intentions were. And fine, sure... but, it had been upsetting you over and over for a while so whatever his reason was rendered pointless now - hell, shouldn't have even been a reason in the first place, it was a shitty thing to do. You know it, he knows it, even the clerk in the coffee shop you frequent knows it - she's been telling you to just do it and break up with him for ages "since that's what he so desperately wants"

She did clarify to you that she didn't mean that sincerely since he's proven time and time again that he doesn't want to break up with you, but she also said that you can't keep doing it. Can't be trapped in an endless cycle that was clearly impacting you more than you initially realised.

You listened to her, because of course you did, there was sense in what she was saying. He cared about you and you cared about him, but you needed to take care of yourself first and foremost - and staying around waiting for him to realise himself was not doing you any favors. It was an emotional rollercoaster.

And enough was enough.

So when he came back, it was the final time. On your doorstep in the rain, you told him it was over - just like he wanted.

You knew it was a lie, you knew that wasn't what he (or you) wanted, but you believed if to be for the best. You couldn't carry on.

And he accepted that. Played as though that's what he'd been waiting for this whole time. Bid you farewell and wished you luck in the future, before walking away, soaked in the rain.

Even if it made you feel a little bad, you didn't go chasing after him.

_________________________________________

My own boyfriend keeps forgetting to reply to me 🥲

I wrote this to feel better lol. Will check it at a later date for any errors and such.

[descendant-of-truth]

Ohhh this scene. This one's a doozy

Nine is right to call this out about Sonic, of course. While he's definitely grown since the start of the show, he's never really been able to move past his tunnel vision and tendency to project onto the others.

He never thought to ask Nine what he wanted not because he doesn't care, but because he didn't think he needed to. He inherently assumes that the people he's working with are on the same page as him until told otherwise - in fact, it wasn't too long ago that he was similarly thrown off by Shadow in that very room.

(Love Shadow being used as a sort of "test run" for these kinds of conflicts by the way)

But here's the thing. While it's true that Sonic didn't really think about what Nine wanted and just assumed they were going to stick together no matter what... the same is true of Nine.

Look at how confused Nine looks when Sonic talks about coming back to Green Hill and restoring it:

Nine didn't ask what Sonic was wanting to do by repairing the Prism because he thought it was obvious that they were going back to the Grim together. I don't think it occurred to him that fixing Green Hill was even an option, or at least not one that he considered in favor of his original plans.

And just like Sonic, it's not that he only cares about himself - he went out of his way to engineer coconuts and (presumably) palm trees because he knew how much Sonic missed them. It was really sweet!

But, in what's becoming a pattern in this show, he doesn't understand why those trees matter to Sonic. They're not just cool plants, they're a reminder of home. And as Sonic aptly puts it at the start of the show, home is where your friends are.

I love that the conflict here is that both of them were convinced they knew what the other person wanted/would be okay with, because they think it'll naturally be the same thing they want, and then were both completely unprepared to handle a conflict of interest. It feels so natural and makes perfect sense with how they've been written up to this point.

But see, while I think it's pretty clear that Sonic and Nine fell into the exact same communication trap, I think it's going to take longer for Nine to realize his own fault in any of this.

Sonic spent the entire second half of that conversation looking devastated, and he's made it clear throughout the show that he's quick to feel remorse when he realizes he's hurt someone. In all likelihood, he's going to put all of the blame for that argument on himself, decide that Nine was right about everything, and leave it at that.

Nine, likewise, doesn't strike me as a particularly self-reflective type. He'd probably try to justify not needing Sonic to himself before anything else, and with that in mind, who else is there to make him see the situation with more nuance?

If I had to pick, I'd guess Shadow - our resident "smacking people in the face with their own flaws" extraordinaire.

Why would he bother with any sort of mediating between the two? Well, the funniest reason would be that he finds Sonic's self-pitying and Nine's self-righteousness equally annoying, but I'm inclined to assume any sort of confrontation between him and Nine would be a little more dramatic than that. (He might still use that reasoning as justification though)

Anyway I gotta cut this post short before I go too far into speculation territory or else I'll be here for another hour and this took long enough to write as is, case in point I love me a well-written and believable conflict

[genderlessdude92]

PRECIOUS

PAIRINGS: Alastor x Reader

SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!

WARNINGS: Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship dynamics (but they both love each other dw), Intense emotional distress, Language, Potential Triggers, Donestic conflict. (MAJOR FLUFF AT THE END THOUGH!!! ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!!!) They were a couple alive too if you don’t mind idk i suck at writing- USAGE OF Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT AHHH- Lmk if i missed anything :3

NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!

WORDS: 1.7k

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

“Alastor, are you serious?!” You yelled as Alastor started to walk away from you, mid conversation.

Alastor had just gotten into a big fight with Vox, luckily survived, though. The frustrating part is, he won’t even let you heal him. Or know what the battle was even about?!

Which made you really, really paranoid.

“Alastor, don’t walk away from me, that’s rude.” You caught up with him and began to match his pace and he walked to the halls of the hotel to lucifer knows where. “We need to talk about this.” You say firmly. “I’m going to find out one way or another.” You add, raising your voice slightly.

Alastor stopped walking and turned around to face you. He was looking down at you, which always made you feel so small. Even if he wasn’t actually looking at you, you could still feel it.

“Well, then.” His voice was calm, but a hint of annoyance was there. “Aren’t you just invested in my little public hiccup.”He crossed his arms, waiting for your response.

“Yes I am. And I think we should talk about it, instead of you getting defensive.” You looked him dead in the eye and kept talking. “And why you didn’t tell me.” Your voice went quieter again.

Alastor hid a chuckle, “I thought you would care more about me surviving, than knowing how many lives I took today.” He raised his eyebrow, mocking you. “Or maybe, I don’t want to share this kind of information with someone who will judge me for it.” He was now fully annoyed by you.

You stepped closer to him, trying to keep him from leaving again. “Alastor, please stop. I’m just trying to help. I don’t…” You trailed off nervously. “I don’t want us fighting.”

Alastor smirked at you, “Oh, don’t worry love. We aren’t fighting. Yet.” His tone was harsh and he leaned down to look you in the eyes. “But I will if you continue to harass me about this.”

You felt yourself start to panic, but tried your best to hide it. “I’m sorry Alastor, I just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as he interrupted you.

“No. Don’t ‘just’ anything. You know I hate that word.” He said with a cold smile. “Now leave me alone before I get upset with you.”

“…You know,” You began, standing in your place as Alastor walked away, “You should at least act like you care about my opinion, maybe act like a husband, as well.” You snapped back, but in a more calm, collected tone. (minus the shakiness in your voice.)

“That’s rich coming from you.” Alastor snapped back, turning around to face you again. “What did I ever do to deserve such a self-righteous wife?” He raised his voice a bit, but not enough for others to hear. “How dare you assume things about me without even asking. How dare you come here and make demands of me. How dare you try to control me.” He continued yelling, walking towards you. “You have no right to tell me what to do! I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“I’m not trying to control you. I’m just saying, maybe you could at least consider what I have to say sometimes…” You tried to say bravely, but failed at the end. You felt so small. So insignificant.

You felt like nothing.

Alastor was now right in front of you, towering above you. His height and stature were intimidating, but his voice was worse. It was rough and demanding, making you feel like you weren’t worth anything. “You are nothing, nothing compared to me.” He sneered. “I don’t give a damn about what you think. What you say. What you do. You’re just a pathetic little sinner who has no idea what real power feels like. You’re not worthy of my time. You’re not worthy of my attention. You’re not worthy of my love.” He spat out the last word like it tasted sour in his mouth.

His words were cutting through your heart, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You dashed away to the nearest staircase, needing to get to your office. Your only safe space.

***

It has been about a week now since the fight you and Alastor had.

It had also been a week since you came out of your office.

You didn’t really leave your office because, one, it had a fridge of food and other things. Two, you had a makeshift bed with the couch. And three, why would you even go out there?

Only problem is, you’ve cried everyday, and that made you feel like complete imp-shit.

You really wanted to see Alastor, but you knew it wouldn’t end well.

You also didn’t want to be around anyone else, either.

***

Alastor was a gentleman to all women who deserved so.

An example he would give you is Rosie. He’s a gentleman to her because she’s nice to him and has manners. She deserves it.

But, if he was near Velvette, he would call her cruel names and shred all her ‘designer masterpieces’.

But, now he was confused.

What happened with Y/N?

He had never fought like that with her before no, usually she would be next to him in bed right now.

He was starting to miss her.

…he needed to give her an apology.

But he knew he wasn’t good with words.

So, he brainstormed.

“I could probably give her a heart…” He thought, stepping out of bed and pondering for a moment, “…no, no….maybe…some flowers?…” he looked over to his bayou. “…Allergies.”

He slumped onto his armchair and looked around his room for any ideas at all.

“…maybe some candy? No.” He thought, “She doesn’t eat much sweets.”

He sat there for a while longer, thinking.

Then it hit him.

***

You heard footsteps outside your door, and immediately froze. You looked around your room for any escape route, and found none. You decided to sit back down on your couch, and began to wait for whoever was there to leave.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and a knock sounded out. “Y/N, open the door.” Alastor’s voice was stern and commanding. “I know you’re in there.” He added.

You opened the door slowly, and peeked out to see who it was.

“Hello, darling.” Alastor said with a warm smile. “Can I come in?”

You just stared at him, saying nothing

‘fuck’, he thought, ‘i caused this.”

“Y/N, I just want to apologize.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was wrong.”

“…you don’t mean that.” You replied, still not moving.

“I do mean it, darling. Please jsut…let me in.” Alastor said sincerely, taking a step forward.

You hesitated for a moment, then moved aside to let him in. He closed the door behind him and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or say next.

Then, your eyes wandered to the large picture album he was holding to his side.

“Alastor…what’s that?” You asked, taking a step back cautiously.

“…it’s our picture album.” He looked at you, remaining calm. “…from…when we were alive. You know, with all those crappy photos.” He smiled softly.

You looked up at him, “…I’m scared.”

Alastor knew exactly why, as well.

He sighed, “I promise…I will keep myself contained if i ever, ever lash out like that… ever again.” He claimed, tears building up in his eyes.

“What i said back there was not true at all. You are everything to me, you are worth so much, and most of all, I love you.” He dropped the book to the floor and held out his arms to hug you.

You didn’t move, “…I don’t want to be here…” You said, letting a tear fall.

He nodded, “That’s okay, dear, let’s go to our room, okay?” He reassured, picking the book back up and holding you tight to his waist as the shadows consumed you both, talking you to his room.

***

You and Alastor missed this.

Limbs tangled together in bed, holding each other close, breathing in each other’s scents, you wish you had this sooner.

Alastor flipped a page of the album, “Oh look,” He noticed, pointing his claws to the first picture in the album, “It’s our cat, oh, what was his name again?” He asked, looking at you.

You were still crying.

He took a deep breath, “Y/n,” he exhaled, “It’s okay, dear…please don’t think about it.”

You looked at him, “w-what?” you said, wiping your cheek.

He ran a claw through your hair, “Nothing.” He said, smiling softly.

You put your head on his shoulder, “Okay,” you mumbled into his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying his scent.

He stroked your hair, “Do you remember our wedding day?” He asked.

You shook your head, “…no, I don’t…it was too long ago…” you said, sniffling.

He kissed the top of your head, “That’s alright, sweetheart, we have plenty of time to talk about it.” He assured you, pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You felt safe in his arms. Safe and loved.

Alastor flipped the pages until he found the wedding pictures, “Oh, here we are. Look, see how my mother walked you through the aisle?” He rubbed the picture with his thumb, rethinking back the memory.

“…yeah…I remember now…” You snuggled closer into him, trying to control your ragged breathing.

“…just breathe daring.” He reminded you, “Look here, you see how much you’ve changed?” He laughed softly, flipping another page, “See here? Here you are at our anniversary dinner, you wore that beautiful dress that made your legs look amazing.” He blushed lightly, “I remember you told me I was the only one allowed to see it.”

You giggled, “…that was a joke, silly.” You said, opening your eyes and smiling up at him.

“Ah, yes, I know.” He smiled back,

“…You’re so precious to me, y’know that?” He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩

END NOTES: Idk what i was thinking when i made this fic erm…! Idk I’ve been going thru some shit rn but I’ve gotta impress the community because the notes/likes/comments/reblogs on my posts aren’t doing to good rn!! Oh no!!! (that is a sign from my greedy ass) And i just started a multi-chapter fic so like idk why i’m typing this- support is appreciated. BAI!!![![![11!

-Lynn ¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩ Masterlist Link

[makochi-furin]

Hii hii! I hope your doing okay today or tonight, I was wondering if you could write something for dazai (idm if it’s scenario, hc or mix of it and if you add another character you really want to write about).

The request basically is; a reader who finally told Dazai about their past abuser, how they got away with no consequences (who reader mentioned seeing sometimes in the city) and later said abuser goes to the agency on behalf their company to investigate missing items.

Stuff like this is really comforting for me so thank you if you do it :D I hope I put in enough detail for you to work with.

DAZAI AND CONSEQUENCES

A/N: baby, I’m so sorry, but this is long asf and I got a lil carried away💀 I’m also sorry it took a bit to get out. I work in a nursery, so I work 12 hours shifts, and this got to me slam in the middle of my first one (out of three in a row). If this isn’t what you wanted, you can send me in another ask :) But I hope you like it

WARNING(s): reader was in a physically abusive relationship in the past, mentions of PTSD, canon-typical violence, mentions of panic attacks, pissed off dazai, reader is a girl

—I'm gonna assume this is like a pt. 2 of this writing, but it can stand alone, too :)

—We all know Dazai is megamind over here. He sees EVERYTHING. Nothing goes unnoticed by him (which you probably find a little annoying, tbh, but oh, well). It's especially annoying when he knows things about you that you don't necessarily want him to know

—HOWEVER, if it's something that you physically and emotionally feel like you cannot talk about, like it brings you distress and discomfort, he's very unlikely to push you about it. Let's be honest, this man's probably never even told you the name of his parents. You don't even know if Dazai Osamu IS his real name, so he knows he hasn't got room to talk

—I feel like if Dazai noticed something about your mannerisms, or the way you act that very obviously speaks to past trauma, he'd ask you about it, like in my previous writing. If you're unable or unwilling to talk about it, he drops it. He SO desperately wants to know, but he cares for you too much to put you in any sort of emotional distress by pushing it

—When you do decide to open up to him, he's all ears. He knows how hard it is to speak about the shadows of your past, and he honestly is just so flattered that you trust him (he can't believe it, lmao. Like, three people in his life truly trust him) enough to tell him about it

—You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub in Osamu's apartment, absently watching him comb through his wet hair. The two of you had showered together, and you couldn't help but notice over the months of your relationship how much he had changed.

Osamu was flighty at first, and very distrustful. He wasn't a fan of placing himself in vulnerable positions. Not just to you, but to anyone. Yet, when you'd gently brought up his lack of self care, and how it made you sad to see the person you loved think so little of themselves, a change happened.

You helped, of course. At first, you reminded him to brush his teeth when he forgot, and then you began combing his hair. You'd point out when it was time to change his bandages, and call him to bed at an acceptable time because you knew he'd just stay up until the early hours of the morning (if he slept at all). Together, you two had even begun cooking meals, and he'd started to fill out a little bit.

Now, he made sure to do all of those things, even if you didn't remind him/cook with him, because he felt better, yes, but also because he could see how happy it made you.

He was still suffering from chronic depression, of course. You knew you couldn't fix that, and were thinking about gently bringing up a therapist to him, but he had gotten so much better. Even his coworkers noticed it.

Osamu dragged a comb through his brown waves, eyes narrowed as he focused intently on it. It meant so much to you. How could he not focus on it?

You knew it, too. He would've never made these changes for himself, but he had begun to trust that you had his best interest at heart. A few weeks ago, he'd even opened up about some of his own traumas surrounding Mori and the Port Mafia, about his best friend, Oda Sakunosuke.

Osamu trusted you.

That was why it felt so wrong to keep your own past from him, because he was finally starting to open up. You feared if you didn't return the favor, he'd wilt again. More so, you'd recently been catching yourself let parts of the story slip. Subconsciously, you wanted so badly to tell him.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" He asked lightly, brown eyes sparkling with so much affection that it had your breath catching. Osamu was watching you from the mirror.

You blinked, realizing you'd been out of it for a moment, lost in thought. In your lap, you fiddled with your fingers. Part of you wanted to shut down as your heart plummeted at the thought of reliving the worst of it...

But the way he looked at you, like you hung the sun and the stars, like he felt such fondness for you that 'I love you' simply didn't cut it...

It was time to tell him.

"Can... Can we talk?" you asked, surprised by the softness of your voice. It was almost ashamed, but you knew you shouldn't feel shame for what had happened to you.

Only, you were so scared he'd feel ashamed of you.

Osamu was a great aim, and he was smart as a whip, and he was oddly strong for his thin figure. He'd never let himself stay in the sort of situation you did. He'd fight back.

You felt so small.

He turned to look at you, leaning back on the bathroom counter. His eyes were gentle and knowing, and you couldn't tell if you were upset that he already knew what this was about, or relieved. "Of course," he said with a little smile, squatting down in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What about?"

You gulped, knowing there was no turning back now. If you told him this, you'd be trusting him with probably the worst part of your life. Even imagining it, the past with him, made you sick to your stomach.

You knew you'd backtrack if you didn't just rip it off like a bandaid.

"I overreact to things sometimes," you whispered, and he squeezed your hands. "I'm sure you've noticed it."

"I wouldn't use the word 'overreact.'"

You chewed on your lips nervously, staring into his eyes. Thankfully, all you saw there was understanding, but it was still so hard. "My ex beat me. For years... Anytime I did... anything, pretty much. It was bad." Your voice cracked as you continued, tears welling in your eyes. "I couldn't see my family... I ended up in the ER a few times. He broke me, Osamu. He had me convinced I'd never trust another man."

You waited with baited breath for his reaction, trying to hold in the tears. Your eyes stung and your breathing was speeding up into gasps, because you hadn't even told your family or closest friends the full extent of it.

Osamu looked oddly calm, but at the sight of your fallen tears, he got up to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he pulled you in close, flush against him, and kissed your temple. "Breathe, baby. It's all right now," he whispered, squeezing you close.

You couldn't stop it now, though. What had been building up since you left your ex was being released right here, right now. There was no turning back. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and clouded your eyesight. Subconsciously, you grabbed his shirt in a tight grip and squeezed until your hand ached.

"He beat the shit out of me, and nothing ever happened," you continued, the anguish in your voice now laced by anger. "He broke my collarbone... my jaw—my ribs and my wrist. He made me feel like an ant, like I was so small, and I still feel that way now, and even after I left him... I'm still suffering, but he gets to go about his life like it was nothing. I couldn't even go to the police—he said he'd kill me," you got out through gasps, squeezing your eyes closed as your vision had started to darken at the edges, anyways.

Osamu's eyes flashed with something you didn't recognize, but all he knew to do was pull you in tighter. He placed a hand on your head and pulled you into his chest, and you certainly weren't trying to resist.

"It's not fair," you added, knowing how childish you sounded. Nothing was ever fair. Here you were, saying all this to a man who had probably done much worse than just break people's bones, complaining about fairness.

You weren't a child. You knew life wasn't fair, but that didn't mean it didn't fucking suck that it wasn't.

"Sometimes, I still see him, you know... In town, I—" You had to stop, otherwise you'd make it worse for yourself.

He held you close, rubbing your back and gently scratching your scalp as he whispered for you to breathe. Osamu knew you were about to land neck deep into a panic attack.

Eventually, he did get you calmed down. He got you to bed, made you a mug of hot chocolate, and read to you for about thirty minutes before you were able to catch your breath, his smooth voice calming you better than any benzo could.

In the end, you two lied down together, your back pressed to his front. The bandaged arm that was wrapped around your waist felt like a safety blanket. You were sure you'd be embarrassed about your outburst tomorrow, but for right now, you simply soaked up the feeling of him wrapped around you so snugly.

"You're not small," he whispered to you, and that was the last thing you remembered before passing out.

—Dazai doesn't seem different to you afterwards, in that he doesn't act differently towards you. You were worried at first that he'd see you differently, that he'd see you as being as weak as you saw yourself, but it was the furthest thing from. He respects the hell out of people who can go through such terrible things, and yet come out so kind, so good

—While he doesn't seem different, inwardly you can bet he's raging. Dazai is PISSED OFF, more than he's been in years. He's made great progress, but let's not forget that Dazai can be a cruel mf. He's got a darkness in him that he doesn't want you to see, but it is definitely there

—He doesn't press you for anymore details, but he can't help himself. He digs. He uses his brilliance to find out who the guy is, who his name is, and any time he feels even a slight bit of guilt at digging into your past life without your knowledge, he reminds himself of the injuries you listed.

—You thought he'd forget the things you admitted during your confession? PLEASE. He needs to know everything about this fucking piece of work. If he has a photo, he might even text it to Chuuya, along with a message "wanted alive," and you best bet Chuuya takes it seriously (even if he hates Dazai, lmao) because just by LOOKING at the photo of this guy, everyone can tell he's an asshole. And you still see this mf sometimes? Man is RAGING

—Dazai stands on business, because seeing you so torn up about it physically hurts him. It makes his heart ache every time he remembers you in that state. He can't fucking stand it, and he has to do something about it

—Your words about it being unfair haunt him in his nightmares. You're right to a degree: the world isn't fair. However, Dazai knows that if it takes him a million years, he's gonna make this shit fair

—Then, what do you know, one day he's at the office and Atsushi comes strolling in with a Manila folder and the piece of shit, himself. There he is, practically served to Dazai on a silver platter

—"This is Tanaka Jiro," Atsushi chirped, missing the way Dazai's eyes widened when he saw the new client. "He's here on behalf of the engineering company that got broken into last night."

Dazai sat up in his chair, staring right at the man who had the gall to make you feel small and weak. His eyes darkened, and then he slowly smiled. It wasn't happy or gentle, or even playful and teasing.

He smiled like Mori smiled.

In that moment, if his coat was black instead of tan, he'd look the picture of his younger, crueler self. He supposed that part of him never went away, always there just at the edge of his subconscious.

He promised Odasaku that he'd push it away, that he'd do good. However, he felt that even Odasaku, his kind friend, would understand the necessity of it now.

Immediately, he jumped out of his chair and made his way over. His hand landed on Atsushi's hair, giving it a playful ruffle. As he looked at him, his eyes softened. "Maa, Atsushi-kun. You work too hard, you know. I'll take this case for you."

Atsushi stared at him with obvious shock, eyes wide and jaw on the floor, because Dazai never, ever volunteered to work. If anything, he complained about it like a child.

"D-Dazai-san?" he breathed, in disbelief. It looked like he thought someone had killed the real Dazai, and was now acting in his place.

"Ah, ah," Dazai chirped, shoving Atsushi away. "Go do normal teenager things. Flirt, make friends," his voice trailed off as his gaze slid to Tanaka, your ex, and the smirk lifted his lips once more, eyes flashing dangerously, "all of that."

"O-Okay," Atsushi mumbled, still in shock. He recovered quickly, smiling brightly at Tanaka. "Dazai-san is a very good detective, Tanaka-san. You're in good hands!" he promised.

Tanaka smiled back, and seeing the bastard have the audacity to smile had Dazai seething internally.

Maybe, he'd take all his teeth, so that he could never smile again.

"Thank you for your help, Nakajima-kun," Tanaka said, nodding.

As Atsushi walked off, Dazai tilted his head to the side, his plan already formed. "Follow me to answer some questions, and then I'll begin investigating right away."

—For Dazai's plan to pay off, he needs to figure out who broke into the company. It wasn't a planned event, and he quickly figured out the guy who did it probably had no connection to the company (probably just a low down thief looking for some quick cash), which made it more difficult. It was the sort of not-really-a-big-deal crime that the agency would usually put on the back burner (the only reason it even came to them was because the thief was figured to be gifted), but Dazai worked tirelessly at it

—He interviewed people, looked over documents from dusk to dawn, and just generally put in a hell of a lot more effort for this than he usually would for some petty theft

—You probably even notice how hard he's working. There are bags under his eyes and he's back to not taking very good care of himself, but when you ask about it (obviously worried), he just smiles gently, kisses you, and assures you that he'll have this case figured out in no time. He doesn't want you anywhere near this

—When he does find the criminal, their interaction goes something like this:

"I know you did it. Give me the shit you stole, and I'll let you off."

"Bet."

—He has this part meticulously planned out. While your ex is in work one day, Dazai plants the stolen items in his car, and then calls the company security

—He watches with glee as he's dragged from the building, kicking and screaming like an enraged toddler, and fired on the spot. Your ex's livelihood? Gone. Phase one? Completed

—Dazai sat at his desk with a satisfied smile, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he counted down in his head. Everyone else is entrenched in their own workloads, barely even noticing the malicious sparkle in Dazai's eyes.

Soon enough, the door bursted open, and your ex came running in. His eyes were rimmed red, like he'd been crying, and he was flushed all over from rage. "What the fuck did you do?!" he demanded, pointing at Dazai.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, standing and walking over with the same smile.

Everyone else stopped what they were doing, watching the scene with widened, or curious eyes. This sort of thing didn't happen much at the ADA.

"You know what the fuck I mean, you piece of shit!" Tanaka screamed in his face, and it only made Dazai's smile widen. When he saw this, he hissed, "I think we should take this outside."

"Hold on," demanded Atsushi, immediately standing from his desk, along with Kyouka and Kenji.

Dazai didn't even look at them, staring into Tanaka's eyes, as he held up his hand to stop them in their tracks. The smile melted off his face, replaced by a cold glare and lips pressed into a line. "I'm fine," he assured them, light tone not at all matching his expression.

"But—Dazai-san," Atsushi mumbled, eyes flickering between Dazai and Tanaka.

"You guys are so dramatic," Ranpo said with a roll of his eyes, absently watching the scene from his desk, which his feet were propped up on. "Dazai-kun said it's fine."

Dazai tilted his head mockingly at Tanaka. "Are we going outside?"

That, they did. Tanaka stomped down the stairs and through the cafe, out onto the crowded streets of Yokohama.

Dazai followed, of course, even as Tanaka led him towards a darkened alleyway, obstructed from the view of the general public. Inwardly, he thought that this guy was making it way too easy. He was an idiot.

Tanaka stared at the dead end wall for a minute, and then let out a cry of rage, turned on his heel, and began running at Dazai with his arm pulled back and his hand clenched into a fist.

Nonplussed, Dazai side stepped it, loving every minute of the surprise on Tanaka's face. "What? Did you think fighting someone your own size would be as easy as beating on a girl?"

That had Tanaka freezing immediately. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he growled out, and Dazai almost laughed at his attempt to be menacing and scary.

Right on time, a black SUV pulled up. He might not be in the mafia anymore, but Dazai had plenty of contacts from it. When masked men jumped out of the vehicle, surrounding Tanaka, Dazai smirked at the look of pure terror on his face.

"Don't play dumb. You aren't handsome enough to pull it off," he said lightly, and then laughed as Tanaka tried to call for help.

He was knocked out before he could.

When he awoke, eyes all bleary and with a searing headache, he was in a big, dark warehouse. It was old and beaten, with leaking pipes and creaky doors. He was sitting in a chair, hands cuffed together behind him.

Tanaka screamed.

Dazai walked in front of him casually, hands tucked into his pockets. "Scream all you like. No one will hear you," he said.

"Why are you doing this?! Who even are you, man?!" Tanaka cried, the tears falling down his cheeks. He looked so pathetic.

Dazai loved every second of it.

He hummed, walking forward until he was right in front of the bastard, footsteps echoing around the wide open space. Grabbing a fist full of Tanaka's hair, Dazai yanked his head back, so he'd be looking up at him, so he could see the icy glare, the hate.

"You hurt someone I'm very fond," Dazai said softly, tilting his head. "You hurt someone I love... And ever since she told me, I've been thinking of ways to make it fair for her. It's all I've thought about.

"She's not like you and me, you know. She's kind. She's sweet. She's good. You," Dazai scoffed, "you're pathetic. A man who has to beat defenseless women to feel good about himself is no man." When he leaned in close, so his lips were inching his ear, Tanaka whimpered. "And me? I'm the worst of the worst."

Now, all Tanaka could do was cry and plead, but Dazai wasn't having any of it. He let go of Tanaka's hair, letting his head fall limply, enjoying the sounds of his uttered prayer. "No god can save you from me," he told him in a pleasant voice, taking a few steps back.

Dazai crossed his arms and hummed thoughtfully, making a show of it. "I thought I could just kill you, but that's not really fair, is it? She has to live with what you did to her, and I think the fairest thing would be if you have to live with what I do to you."

"You're fucking psychotic," Tanaka whispered.

"Ah," Dazai agreed easily. "I've always been more of a proponent of revenge, rather than justice. See, she probably just wishes you'd have gone to jail." His casual tone melted into something deeper and smoother, deadlier. "Whereas I'm more of an eye-for-an-eye kind of guy, so..." He pursed his lips in faux thought, looking up at the ceiling. "What was it she said?"

Tanaka stared at him in horror, especially when Dazai stared him straight in the eye and smiled.

"Right. Broken jaw, collarbone, ribs, and wrist!" He said, snapping as if he'd just remembered it, as if your broken confession hadn't been causing him physical pain this whole time. "I have plenty of history with breaking jaws, so I guess we'll start there. What do you say?" he asked brightly.

Tanaka screamed again, the sound becoming a cry of raw terror as Dazai began walking towards him.

An hour later, Tanaka still sat in his chair, still handcuffed, but he was bloody and bruised. Every injury he inflicted on you, Dazai returned tenfold. He was delirious with pain, and in and out of consciousness.

Dazai grunted when he looked down at his hands, seeing the blood that absolutely coated his knuckles and bandages. He'd have to clean that up before coming home to you.

"You up?" he asked, walking closer.

When Tanaka immediately flinched back, Dazai hummed with satisfaction.

"I won't kill you," he said, as if he was doing Tanaka some great favor. "You're going to go about your pathetic, little life with no job, and every time you look at yourself, you'll remember this pain. You'll finally feel at least a fraction of what she did."

Tanaka just whimpered. It was hard to speak with a shattered jaw.

Dazai smiled at the sound, crouching down in front of him to force Tanaka to look him in the face, in the eyes. "The men who kidnapped you are going to drop you off at a hospital. They'll ask what happened, and you'll be tempted to tell them. So," his tone lowered into a hiss, breaking the somewhat casual facade now that Tanaka had physically felt his anger. There was no point hiding it now. "I'll tell you the same thing you told her at her lowest point, that defenseless girl who didn't stand a chance against a piece of shit like you: tell the cops, and I'll kill you."

Dazai stood, jaw clenched. "And I'll be watching you from now. Step a toe out of line, hurt anyone else, and I'll bring you right back here. Only, that time, I'll probably just go ahead and do the whole world a favor, and shoot you in the head.

"I bet no one would miss you at all, because that's how small you are."

With that, he walked away.

—I know that was pretty brutal, but to be honest, y'all, Dazai was a whole ass executive in the PM (the 'demon prodigy'). He tries to hold it back in the ADA (per his promise to Oda and his care for the others), but let's not kid ourselves. The guy does have the capacity to do some really evil shit, and I think if he'd do it for anyone, it'd be you

—It just pisses him off so much to feel helpless, especially when it comes to you. He couldn't save you, then, but he can damn well set the record straight. In his head, he had to do something. At the very least, he had to stop this guy from doing it again

—You were eating dinner with him that night, and hadn't really noticed anything out of the ordinary. Both of you were just sitting at the counter, digging into some instant ramen, and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you didn't pay such close attention to him.

There was a speck of blood on the collar of his coat.

"Hey, what happened?" you asked, concern pinching together your brows. Worried eyes scanned him over, looking for any sign of injury. You found none, though.

"It's not mine," Osamu answered, and then took a bite of his food, looking pointedly away from you.

You pursed your lips, tapping his wrist. "We don't lie to each other, O-sa-mu."

He couldn't help but smile a little at your tone. His eyes finally met your's, and he tapped your wrist back. "It's not a lie. It's-not-mine."

"It's a lie by omission if you don't tell me what happened."

You were terribly confused when his eyes softened, and then he gently pressed his hand to the back of your head, bringing you closer until your foreheads were touching. "What's wrong?" you mumbled.

"I can't tell you everything," he admitted slowly, eyes shut. He looked so peaceful, like he was where he was meant to me. Honestly, when Osamu was all soft like this, it took your breath away.

"Then tell me part of it," you breathed, reaching up to cup your hand around his neck. "Did something happen?"

He stayed quiet for a long time, though you didn't know how long. It was like he was contemplating something serious, and that both confused and worried you.

When he finally did speak, it felt like time froze. Everything froze.

"I made it fair. He won't ever hurt anyone else again. I made sure of it."

The words were a whispered promise, and you automatically knew what he was talking about, of course. He was mysterious, and he had been distrustful at first, and you knew he had once been in the mafia, but he was also the person you trusted the most in the world.

Osamu always went above and beyond for you, and you didn't feel as safe anywhere as you did with him.

You believed him wholeheartedly, and found that this admission was enough. You didn't need to know the details, and probably wouldn't want to.

The relief you felt was enough.

"Thank you, Osamu."

—Look, he's so bby girl with you, but he don't play when it comes to your abusive ex💀

—Just... just honestly don't fuck with the people this guy loves, okay? He's gd diabolical, and he can be so cruel to those that hurt who he cares about, so... Just watch it if you're tryna show out to his girl, okay, lmao

[luveline]

hi jade! :-) have you written any tasm!peter x pregnant!reader blurbs? (if not, you should write one where he finds out reader is pregnant and is very anxious about it pls pls plssss <3)

hi upon reflection i can't tell if you wanted reader to be anxious or peter so sry if I chose wrong ha!! ty for requesting!! —tasm!peter comforts freshly pregnant!reader when she worries <3 1.6k

You missed your period two weeks ago, and you'd been excited, you and Peter both had, but your pregnancy test gave a negative. It might've been slightly too early at the time to take one, reflecting back. Or maybe you should've taken a more accurate test.

Because it's been two weeks since then, and the pregnancy test in your hand is positive. You got one of the fancy ones after a strange feeling while standing in the pharmacy, staring at different boxes. It's a digital test that cost too much money, and it says loud and proud: Pregnant 3+. 

You're more than three weeks pregnant. If you think about it, you're likely four weeks along, just a week before the heartbeat could begin. 

And of course, you really want to be pregnant, you and Peter are newlywed but long in love, you'd been trying for this and that negative test upset you at the time, but this is a different kind of upset. You're suddenly and deeply worried. Your heart rate starts to climb. 

"Hey?" Peter calls, a room away but hearing so brilliant he may as well have his ear to your chest. He doesn't usually listen to you and especially when you're in the bathroom, but his spidey sense alerts him to stuff like this, panic out of the ordinary, potential danger. "What's wrong?" 

"I think you'll have to come in here," you say gently. 

"Yeah, I'm coming." 

Bedsprings creak. There's a low step up into the ensuite, and you'd left the door open. Within seconds he's standing in the doorway, frowning at you where you're perched on the lip of the bath. 

He sees the pregnancy test, sees your pinched brows, and assumes the wrong thing. "Hey, sweetheart. It's alright. You don't mind trying again, do you?" he asks, teasing lightly. "Sometimes it takes time, you know? You've been trying all those things to make it stick. I read that stressing out can actually prevent–" 

"No, Pete," you say, turning the stick to show him. You smile despite your nerves. 

He takes the test. His hands start to shake, his excitement like a shot of adrenaline, but he looks between the test and your fear and he tries to hide it from you. "You're not happy?" he asks. 

Peter doesn't put down the test. With his empty hand, he takes your face into a warm palm. 

"I– I–" You have the jitters, and your stomach hurts, and everything that was scary about pregnancy didn't seem to matter when you were trying because it was gonna be your baby, his baby. "I don't know what's wrong, I thought I knew how I felt, it's not that I don't want this." 

"Woah…" His hand smooths down to your shoulder. "Can I give you a hug?"

You hurt your arm trying to pull him in, yanking it up weird with the swiftness of it as you grab his back. Peter hugs your head to his abdomen with less force. 

"It's okay," he says, leaning down to kiss your temple. 

"Sorry–" 

"No, don't be! You don't have to feel one way about it, just don't panic. I got you." 

"Not panicking, I just– I'm pregnant." 

"You are," he says, giving you another kiss. He can't seem to hold any of it back then, his grip on you tightening, his kiss turning to a handful. "I love you. I love you so much. I promise whatever it is that's freaking you out is something we can take care of." 

"I want it," you promise. 

"I'm glad," he says, turning your head up, kissing you on the lips. You catch a glance of his glassy eyes. "I'm so happy." 

If Peter thought you weren't pleased about all this you know he'd pull it back, but he's happy enough to calm the anxiety. At least, enough to calm your racing heart. Dread stays at the pit of your stomach next to joy. It's much louder. 

"I think I'm really scared about everything changing," you say, voice like you're being squeezed. 

"Sweetheart." Peter pets your shoulders. "Me and you need to go lie down, I think."

"Where's the test?" you ask. You want to look again, to be sure. 

He takes it from his pocket and passes it back. You have no idea when he put it away. You stare at the tiny digital screen, 3+. 

Peter basically carries you to the bed with his impressive and annoying strength like you don't weigh a thing. He fluffs the pillows, pulls back the sheets, and tucks them over your curled up body with infinite care. "You want something to drink?" 

"I don't want to cry," you say instead of answering, feeling the hot sting of tears as it builds behind your eyes. "I want to be happier, I promise, I am happy." 

Peter sits down next to you. He puts his head next to yours on the pillow, so when he talks, the exhale of his words kisses your face, "You know, I'm like, going crazy right now. I'm so fucking happy I don't think I could explain it to you, I want to be the dad to your baby, I want to live here with you forever and have kids and dogs and sit on the big porch with you at the end of the day while they run around in the grass, but–" He laughs bashfully, his eyes slipping closed as his nose tip touches yours. "But I want what you want, you know? If you're not ready for a baby like you thought, that's not a crime. We can wait. I can wait as long as you need me to." 

"No… Peter, I do, I'm just– I'm pregnant." You said that already, but you failed to explain. You try again. "I'm worried about being pregnant, I– I already feel sick. That's why I went to get the test, and I'm scared of how hard this is going to be. I still want this, though. I swear, I want it." 

"You don't have to worry," he says, though he opens his eyes, and leans back. "I know it's going to be really hard and that there's gonna be moments where you feel like shit and want it to be over, but I'm gonna be with you that entire time. I'll do literally anything you need or want me to do. I'll stand on my head," —you start to cry, rare and fat tears— "I'll make this as easy as possible on you. If worrying about how hard it is is what's stopping you from being excited, then you can put all that weight on me. Trust me to worry about it for you." 

He wipes your cheeks with his hand, index finger ghosting the delicate skin under your eye. 

"You promise you're gonna look after me?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 

"I swear on my life." He doesn't seem offended that you need reassurance, hugging you, his hand sliding up and down your side and nudging your shirt with each stroke. 

"Okay," you say, taking a deep breath. "Okay." 

The excitement comes slowly at first like a puncture, but it weasels out, and you rub your eyes with a wet sounding laugh. 

"Happy?" he asks. 

You laugh louder. "Really happy, Pete." 

He laughs with you and hugs you flush to his front, your stomachs touching, your hearts separated by fat, muscle, and little else. He hugs you so hard you swear you can feel his heartbeat. 

"Whoo!" he shouts, your loser. Ecstatic. "Shit, baby, you're gonna have a baby!"

"We," you amend. 

"Yes, we!" he agrees, pulling away, taking your face into his hand as he had but with half the concern and twice the excitement. "This is awesome. Let me give you the world's biggest kiss and then we'll go celebrate, okay? We'll have a really great dinner and I'm gonna treat you to whatever you want, alright? Some pyjamas from Uniqlo." He beams as he adds, "We need to go to the pharmacy. You need prenatal vitamins." 

"Forget vitamins. We're gonna have to stop eating take out every Friday," you say. 

"Do we really need to?" he asks, playfully whining. 

"Maybe. I'm definitely gonna need to eat more salad. And the vitamins might be a good idea, actually." 

Peter smiles. He kisses you rather gently considering what he promised, not the world's biggest but maybe the world's most loving. He pulls away, kisses you again like he can't help it. He does that twice, before crawling backward off of the bed to find you both clothes to wear. 

"Come on, my pregnant sweetheart. You're finally eating for two, maybe you'll actually be able to keep up with me now." 

You giggle and wipe the last of your worried tears away. "Sure, if I were having octuplets." 

"We'll find out," he says, tossing a pair of pants at your feet. "Come on! Or… take your time. I guess I have to get used to you being slow." 

"I'm not that pregnant."  

Peter leaps across the sheets to give you another kiss. You shriek with laughter, kissed until your cheeks are aflame and you're a thousand times more happy than you are anxious. 

[cainsau]

Midnight || The Boys Imagine

(Platonic) Hughie Campbell x GN!Reader

Summary: You left something at the office, so you go back there, not expecting Hughie to be there too, crying quietly in the dark.

Warning: [Spoilers?] I like to imagine that he's crying about his dad (in S4E5), but there's really no mention of it, so it could be about anything if you want

Author's Note: The fic writer's curse is so real, i literally got a fever while writing this lmao

You never believed in ghosts, and you're not scared of them whatsoever, but it's a different story when you actually get to encounter one. For example: the faint cries from the other side of the door, you hate to admit, makes your heart beat faster. It takes a while for you to gather up enough courage and enter. Fortunately, there are no ghosts in sight, only Hughie, and yet your stomach still drops when you realize he's sobbing into his jacket near the window.

"Hughie?"

He takes a glance at you, and quickly tries to wipe the tears off his face.

You're reminded of an article from somewhere, stating that in this situation, some people would want to be left alone, while others would want to be comforted by another person. You try to guess which type he is, probably the former since he's sitting alone in the dark like that, but your body doesn't care and moves on its own, taking you closer to him.

"Are you okay?"

"No, not really, to be honest." He chuckles.

"Yeah, that was a stupid question. I don't know why i even asked." You let out a small laugh along with him.

He gives you a sad smile and tries to change the subject, "So, what brings you here?"

"Right." you head to your desk awkwardly, "I forgot something," you then pick up the thing you came for, showing it to him, "My charger."

He chuckles again, but it sounds a lot like sobbing. You're not sure whether to laugh with him or not. "You forgot your charger and decided to pick it up in the middle of the night? Seriously?"

"Well, yeah," You look down, at the rolled up charger in your hands, "My phone was gonna die. I didn't want to miss any emergencies."

You meet his eyes again. They sparkle with sorrow, reflecting city lights from outside the window.

"And this qualifies as an emergency, i believe." You say as you step closer, "Do you want to tell me why you're here like this?"

He stays silent, thinking about it for a moment.

"Or I can leave, if that's what you want."

Still no answer.

You take a deep breath. To be honest, you're worried about him, but if he doesn't want to talk about it, then you can't force him to.

"Okay, i understand." You say as you take a step away.

"Wait." He stops you, his voice cracking, "Actually, can you.. can you stay?"

"Of course."

So, you carefully sit down next to him, your legs crossed and your back against the window. He's still breathing irregularly, wiping away tears with his jacket sleeves every now and then. You can't rush him, so you wait for him to talk more, but he doesn't say anything.

In order for you to say the right things, he needs to tell you what's going on, but without such information, all you can do is gently pat him on the shoulder while he weeps. Since he doesn't thwart your hand away, you assume he's not bothered by your attempt to comfort him, which is good. But, you wish you can do more for him.

After a moment of silence, you decide to speak. "It's okay. Everything is going to be alright. It must've been such an exhausting day for you."

"I just-" he stutters with a sob, turning to face you, "I just wish things were different."

"I'm sorry." You feel a pang in your heart as you listen to his words. "I can't pretend to know what you're going through." You reply, "But, just know that i'm here for you, and i will always be, yeah?"

He nods, and pulls you in for a tight hug, whispering, "Thank you."

[rzyraffek]

Due to lack of affecion in my life I gladly wanna say that I made another

Slashers hugs and kisses headcanons

It's fully swf! Pure fluff! They/them Somone hug me pls. Request open

Brahms Heelshire

How his hugs look like: he either goes romantic and hugs them very gently OR just grabs them and holds them as close to him as possible. Loves hearing heartbeat too (when laying in bed )

He loves any kind of physical contact with them! Any handholding, hugs, cuddles ANYTHING this guy loves. Especially grabbing their hips or dhoulders when they are cooking or doing chores

Laying in bed together before staring day and morning routine is a must! He needs to wake up with good mood or he will stay grumpy for whole day

Also pls give him little kisses! On cheeks, forehead, hand, neck HE LOVES THOSE

Billy Lenz

Hugs on couch, him on top cuddling like his life depends on it, like they gonna evaporate in his hands if he stops hugging

Also he is going to say a lot of weird things (wow no way billy lenz saying weird stuff??) And he will inform them that he is plannin on doing the nasty with them later (respectfully)

But he enjoys the moment

Everytime he sees them after long day (assuming that s/o works/studies outside their household) he will just keep one of his arms around them till they go shleep really

Also he stares, a lot, if they aren't in huggy mood he will just stare without any emotions on his face, hes not mad he just misses the warm feeling of somone loving him :(

Also he bites

Asa emory

I swear this little prankster will pretend he fell asleep on couch while yall be watching movie, just to hear them react and take care of him. Also he melts when they give him little kisses or turn tv off so he can peacefully nap.

Or when they are tired after long day and have nap on him while he monologues about cool bugs. Playing with hair and lil massage included

He doesnt really like hugging while he just stands, it feels so akward, so he rather go lay on couch/sit on armchair while yall wanna get phisical

Every cuddle session ends with one of you falling asleep and other one really hates waking the first one up

Jason Voorhees

I dont really write for Jason but oh boi

Cuddling before sleep is so goofy, this guy is huge, like HUGE. If s/o prefers being smol spoon he will cover them completely, he is one of those people who put their leg on their partner so they are closer. But if s/o prefers being big spoon, he will giggle, blush even, he loves it! Also good luck with not being squshed at night

This guy really goes 'a mimiimi ah mimimii zzz' when sleeping btw

He will pick them up while hugging and hold hands 24/7, especially after that one event when s/o got lost in Forest once. No. No more of that pls there are degenerates around

Bear hugs

Micheal Myers

No

Just no

He won't hug anyone really, its uncomfortable for him. I mean after really long time spent and enough trust given, he will let them hug him, or grab his arms and hands and give him lil smooches

But he won't really give those back, no, even if they are very upset or in bad mental situation, he won't. Respect that

Again-if he knows them well and likes them, he will pay no mind in them giving him smooches or hugging him. He gets that that's how they find comfort, but don't think he will do it too

Vincent Sinclair

This one is very hugable bean

He will be akward due to his lack of social skills but oh boi isn't he very meow meow?

When they kiss his head or hug him while saying something nice. Guy will be soso happy

He gets very shy when Bo sees yall hugging. Like he did something embarrassing:(( somone needs to explain to this poor baby that hugs and comfort is okay and valid :(

Bo Sinclair

His hands are all over them

If yall aren't holding hands, he has his on their hip, or on they shoulder

He also kinda ??? Sniffs you??? Idk he likes how they smell?

He likes when they lay on top of him or when he's big spoon

Will say some goofy level stuff, wacky even

And bites them a bit, not hard tho

Also vincent once walked in room while yall were cuddling and laughing and he thought yall were doing the nasty and now he has (another) trauma

Boioioioojgn 3am here yall have great day bai

[ilovetheriddler]

The Carpal Tunnel Of Love.

(Gotham) Edward Nygma/The Riddler × F!Reader.

(Takes place in between seasons 1 and 2 of Gotham. Also, this is my first ever fanfic. So i hope it's okay!)

Word Count: Slightly over 700.

Contents: Unrequited Feelings, just a small bit of Angst.

You honestly couldn't begin to even act like you had any clue as to what Edward was currently up to. Hunched over his desk, scribbling away on numerous scraps of paper... Actually, a concerning amount of paper. You pondered to yourself about what he could be writing down in such a gleeful frenzy.

Originally, you assumed that it had to be some new Riddles he had just thought up. But... the look in his eyes made you think it was something else entirely... He glanced up, finally noticing that you were standing in the doorway. He jumped up slightly startled, unintentionally sending his papers flying everywhere.

He quickly tried to gather them all up while attempting to ramble out a greeting to you.

"A-ah! I'm so sorry that I didn't see you standing there!"

You couldn't help but chuckle to yourself, not in a mocking way like numerous other did when it came to Ed, no. In a more amused and friendly way.

"It's fine, Ed. What exactly are you working on there?"

"O-oh! Um.. It's a bit embarrassing to admit, but I'm currently writing a love letter. Well, attempting to that is."

You felt your pulse quicken upon hearing this, You could practically hear your heart beat pounding away in your ears. Is this really it? Is this finally the moment you've been hoping for? When he confesses his love for you? A genuinely large grin crosses your face in excitement.

"Really?! A love letter? That's quite an interesting thing to be working on... If you don't mind me asking, who's it for?"

An embarrassed and goofy grin rests on his face as he scratches his neck. A bit reluctant to actually admit who this letter is for. But ultimately, he concedes and does so.

"Well.... It's for Miss Kringle, I've had feelings for her awhile now and... I think I'm ready to tell her that!"

You felt your heart both briefly stop and shatter upon realizing what he's saying. The letter isn't for you. He doesn't love you. He's in love with Kristen Kringle.... Oh. Of course he is... you attempt to put up a front of being happy and supportive of him. A fake smile is present on your face.

"R-really? I'm... really happy for you, Ed. You deserve to have someone love you as much as you love them. I hope it goes well for you when you tell her..."

"Thank you... I um... sure hope it does. So anyway, what are you doing down here at the GCPD?"

You felt your face heat up slightly once he inquired about why you were here. You sigh and pull an envelope from your bag, Handing it to him. He looks a bit surprised and confused as to what it's meant to be.

"Open it.... I made it just for you."

"Hmm? Really? Well, alright then. Thank you!"

He tears open the envelope and pulls the card out. It was a clearly handmade card. He opens it and sees the writing on the inside that reads, "You may have a lot of me, but you'll never have enough. There will be no more after the last one arrives. What am i?". A soft chuckle escapes his lips.

"A... Riddle?.... Birthdays, the answer is Birthdays."

"That's right.... Happy birthday, Ed...."

His eyes go wide once he realizes what today is. It's his birthday. He'd been so caught up with preparing everything to be perfect when he confessed to Kristen that it had totally slipped his mind that it was today. After a few seconds, a genuine and wide grin crosses his face.

"You remembered my birthday? Wow um... I don't know what to say, Thank you..."

"We've been friends for two years now, Ed, i couldn't forget your birthday even if I tried."

"Well... Thank you! I really appreciate that you'd go through all the trouble of making me a card. It really means a lot to me that I have a friend who cares as much as you do!"

A friend. That's... unfortunately, all you'd ever be to Edward, you feared. But, a part of you honestly didn't mind. As long as you were able to be by his side and be a part of his life... then I'd be worth it to you. Even if it did tear you apart inside each night that he would never return your feelings, or at least that's what you believed and you weren't willing to risk telling him, especially not now that you knew about his feelings for Kristen Kringle.

[infiniteorangethethird]

I've been wanting to put my thoughts abt my experiences as a loveless aroapl into words for a while now, and finally I got the chance to sit down and actually write out all my ideas. Obligatory I don't speak for the entire community and these are just my personal experiences; long post ahead.

First of all, there could be many different meanings to the label loveless, depending on who is the one using it. To me, loveless means that I literally do not experience love, that I do not experience the emotions other people seem to define as love. I do experience strong emotions (though some loveless ppl might not, which is also completely valid), but I identify none of them as love.

The reason I've decided to use the loveless label for myself is because after watching people around me for a long while, I've come to the conclusion that I just simply don't feel the same way about other ppl as they do. I hear my friends talk about how much they missed me after we don't see each other for a while, about how much they wish we had more free time so that we could meet more frequently. I see my long-distance friends with whom we only get to see each other once a year desperately trying to find a time we are all free so that we could meet. I get invited to outings with friends before we even have a plan of what we want to do bc to them, the fact that we're spending time together is more important than what we're actually doing.

Thing is, I do enjoy spending time with people. There are a lot of things, activities, that are more fun (or just straight up made possible) if done with others instead of alone. I also enjoy the safety having a network of people around you can give. But at the same time, I've never really felt any pull towards specific people. I enjoy spending time with people in general, but my interest is a lot more directed at the activities we do together and the general concept of not doing it alone instead of the people involved. At the end of the day I don't care much about who those people are, so long as they are decent and aren't actively ruining the experience.

That isn't to say I'm an asshole to them, though. I know very well that friendships (and relationships in general) require a certain level of care in both directions, usually involving spending time together, and just generally being there for the other. I do want my friends to be happy, I do want to make them happy, but it's not really out of an emotional desire to make them specifically happy, rather a more general inner drive to be good to people. I will put in the effort to socialize, to spend time with people, to listen to them and be there for them emotionally bc I know that's what it takes to maintain a relationship, but it's always going to be somewhat impersonal and more I do out of duty than out of an emotional drive to get closer to them.

And yet, the fact that the general population does seem to have this emotional drive while I never felt anything like it made me feel for the longest time that there was something wrong with me. That not feeling the correct way about my friends is making me somehow evil for tricking them into thinking I was actually their friend, and not some kind of monster who was just using their kindness against them - and it's hard not to feel that way. We live in a society that assumes and constantly reinforces the idea that not only is love the purest emotion, but also the only thing a relationship can be based on. Any relationship that doesn't have love at its core is worthless or meaningless, and if you deliberately enter a relationship as a loveless person you are a bad person and the relationship is inherently toxic. It doesn't matter what you actually do, or what feelings might motivate it - if it's not out of love, it's bad.

In this framework, being loveless means no matter how hard you try, you will just never be enough. It isn't enough to be kind or generous or caring, you MUST love the other, and if they find out you don't, there's a really good chance they will take it as a personal attack and break contact with you, even if before they called you their best friend.

It was this pressure that made me pick up the loveless label. For too long have I felt like I wasn't doing enough, like I was missing something, like I wasn't trying hard enough to feel love. I kept beating myself up over not feeling the correct emotions, but unsurprisingly, this did not make me more capable of love. It just made me hate myself for the way I existed. But the moment I accepted myself as loveless? All of that pressure was gone. I learnt that emotions don't inherently make an action morally better or worse, and that at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what you feel so long as you do the right thing. People don't actually see your emotions, only your actions.

Of course, I still struggle with making and keeping friends. Turns out it is rather difficult to maintain a relationship when you don't have an innate drive towards people; then put on that extra layer of autism and low empathy and you got a recipe for disaster. Still, that doesn't mean I don't try, because I do want to be around people, and I do want those people to be happy to be around me, even if it means I have to put in the extra effort to connect with them that to most ppl comes naturally.

I know this turned out to be pretty long but I wanted to elaborate on these thoughts to give them justice as best as I could. Loveless is still a label most people either don't know or are very confused about, and I just hope I could shed some light on the experience for those who are still unfamiliar with it.

I'm open to answering (good faith) questions, but please remember that I am still just one guy and can't speak on behalf of the whole community.

(Other loveless ppl, feel free to add on your own experiences as well, I'd love to hear about them!)

[tartigglez]

"i'm here now, aren't i?

diluc x gn!reader

genre: fluff/hurt-comfort??

word count: 1.6k (i got carried away)

tags: diluc is our mr darknight hero, soft hours, diluc gets wounded :( but its fine u can take care of him, many kiss, such cuddle, shy diluc at the end bc i have brainrot gonna be honest

tw/cw: descripton of blades (swords), brief description of cuts/wounds + treating them, scars, reader is alone at night (idk if this is worth mentioning but better safe than sorry), diluc carries reader in some positions that would be considered sorta feminine????, insomnia (?), lmk if i missed any

a/n: FINALLY DILUC! gotta say, i love the graphics for this sm, i feel like i did a rlly good job (giving myself credit bc they're pretty). i love soft boi diluc and intend to write for him more ngl, anyways, enjoy!

a wet, stormy night at dawn winery proved to be the reason for your lack of sleep. the sounds of the thunder and lightning clattering outside, accompanied by the drumming of the rain on the window were so loud that they tried to take priority in your mind. however, the only thing you could bring yourself to think about was your lover, all alone, in the cold. 

the empty space in the bed next to you, the lack of his presence, the ominously daunting weather outside. these things all worried you. 

what if he got hurt? 

what if something was wrong? 

what if…?

don't think about it. don’t. 

you knew that you wouldn’t be getting sleep anytime soon, so you got out of bed, putting on the bathrobe which was hanging on the wardrobe door, and brought yourself to the sitting room, perhaps to distract yourself with a book? but in reality you were just going down there to wait for him. 

so you waited

first 10 minutes

then 30 minutes

then an hour

then decided that enough was enough

you could defend yourself in combat, you could wield a weapon, and you would do anything to know that diluc was okay. 

and so you found yourself back in your bedroom, in the wardrobe, looking for the longsword he told you he had left in there for emergencies. 

the blade was sharp, and glinted silver in the light. the handle was encrusted with what you could only assume were rubies, and so you concluded that this sword must have costed diluc a significant amount of money. 

you lifted the sword from its case, sheathed it, and then you realised the weight of the weapon, which wasn’t exactly the lightest, to say the least. 

you left the winery, still in pyjamas, your bathrobe having been replaced with a jacket, quietly closing the front door to your home as to not awaken any of the staff who also lived there. 

if you were going to be quite honest with yourself you weren't sure where exactly you were going, but you just began walking down the path…

the night was eerie. the cold, windy air hit your cheeks as you moved slowly away from the winery. it wasn't shortly after you began your walk that you heard a sound. an immediate response of adrenaline came to you, and so you drew your sword, ready to face whatever was coming near you. 

after about ten seconds of standing still and hearing the sound get closer to you, you saw a red light glowing about ten metres away. with your sword still drawn you moved closer to the light, preparing for combat, and the light moved closer to you as well.

within a split second, you realised that the light was that of a pyro vision, the light of his pyro vision. you dropped your weapon on the ground, and he did the same as you ran to him. as if by natural instinct, you jumped into his arms as he wrapped once of them around your waist, and used the other to hold you up. neither of you said anything for a bit, simply holding each other and allowing yourselves, and your heart rates, seemingly, to calm down. after all, you must have startled the man, appearing out of nowhere like that. 

he placed you gently down, back onto your feet as he held your waist with one hand, and placed the other on your cheek. 

the man had a face of pure concern as he looked into your eyes, why would you possibly be out here at this time of night?

his hair was tousled, and his lip had been cut, presumably in some sort of rough battle. not only that, but his shirt had been slightly ripped as well, presumably by some sort of sword, or in this case, a mitachurl axe.  

“have you been injured? are you well? why are you out here?”

these were all things you ought to be saying to him, so why was he so concerned about you? 

“i was worried about you, you were supposed to be home and i-”

“do not worry, all is well, i am here, love”

“you’re hurt”

“surface level injuries dear, please, settle. I’m here now, arent i?” 

“yeah, yeah”

he pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss upon your head. 

“let’s go home, you’re cold.”

and so, without dwelling upon it, you walk hand in hand back in the direction of the winery, coming across the sword you had previously dropped on the ground. you sheathed it once again, and picked it up. diluc let out a light chuckle. 

“you were really that worried about me?”

“what do you mean, of course i was!”

“my dear, a weapon of this size is far too heavy for you to carry, allow me”

“you can’t, you’ve already got your own sword, its too much and you’re injured an-”

he cut you off…

with his lips…

“i'm fine. trust me. i'm more than capable of carrying this sword, its only half the weight of mine”

“hmph, fine. but don't come crying to me later when your back hurts, mister high-and-mighty!”

“very well, sweetheart”

you grabbed his large, calloused hand to lead him back to the winery, and although you wouldn’t see it in the moonlight, a rosy blush dusted itself over his cheeks. archons, he loves you. 

as the pair of you entered the winery once again, diluc placed both his weapon and yours down beside the front door, smiling to himself at the fact that you cared about him this much. it also seems to him that you didn’t notice, the longsword you had gotten out of the closet matched his greatsword, it was simply a smaller version. 

you both enter the sitting room, which is still dimly lit. diluc gestures towards the fire, which immediately relights, due to the skilled use of his pyro vision. 

“you are cold, dearest. i shall move the sofa closer to the fire, and we will sit for a while, yes?”

“luc’, at least let me tend to your wounds first, you're hurt”

the look of concern on your face caused a veil of guilt to loom over him. but he brushed it off, as to not make you feel bad about caring for him so much. 

“fine, but be gentle”

“i will”

and so, you both sat on the soft plush of the sofa, diluc with his shirt off, and you gently caring for the shallow wound slightly above his left pectoral, dabbing it with a damp towel. his skin was covered in battle scars, but it was beautiful, in some way. these were the lengths your lover would go to for the sake of other people, an admirable trait to say the least. 

diluc admired your concentration whilst caring for his wounds, and was slightly surprised when you manoeuvred your body to straddle his lap, only so you could get a better angle to analyse his injuries, of course (definitely not to look at his muscular arms or anything like that). he placed one of his large hands on your thigh, and the other on your waist, as you gently cared for any other wounds on his body. your skin made contact with his as you put your hand on the warm skin of his shoulder to balance yourself. 

“you’re freezing, dear, your hand is so cold”

“hm, i guess i just didn’t warm much since being outside”

“that won’t do”

a gentle heat began to spread through you, from your heart around the rest of you, warming every inch of your body. he had used his vision on you.

“tsk, pyro users”

“i know, right?”

the man was surprisingly chipper, considering the injuries he had sustained. you both laughed, for some unknown reason, at a joke which wasn’t really all that funny, but that’s love for you. and as the light of the fire began to dim, and the pair of you began to tire, he placed a gentle kiss upon your lips.

“shall we go to bed, dear?”

“yes, please! archons- i’m tired”

“i'm sorry, i feel that this is my fault”

“oh it is entirely your fault, mister darknight hero”

“i told you not to call me that”

“and i told you not to stay out too late, no?”

he let out a chuckle, lifting you from your position on the sofa, and carrying you to your shared bedroom, whilst holding you close to his chest. he removed you from his grasp momentarily, placing you on the bed and telling you to get under the covers, just so he could remove the necessary garments to be comfortable for bed.

yawning, he pulled back the duvet and placed his weary body next to yours, quickly moving to bury his head in your chest and wrap his arms and legs around you. your hands moved to his hair out of natural response, gently massaging his scalp as you fiddled with his vermillion locks. 

"i love you, y/n”

“i love you more, luc’” 

you placed a sly kiss to the crown of his head, and he only hid his face from you further out of shyness, whining into the fabric of your pyjamas.

“you’re so cute”

“don't call me that”

“night, cutie”

and so, you both drifted off into slumber, held in each others arms, held in love. 

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Hey slug! Obviously it's a bit older now, but I was wondering if you might be able to translate Sougyaran BAM, from Kuko? I feel like I don't quite understand the TLs I have seen, so I was wondering if there were certain references or concepts I'm missing here lol

I saw the email notification of this request at the perfect moment. Too anxious to do work or anything else productive. Too caffeinated to sleep. Fuck it. Time to look at Kuukou for an hour.

Under a cut for length

Like a lot of Kuukou's... well, everything... this song is an eclectic mix of elements that can all more or less be distilled into these couple of bullet points:

Trying to fight the listener

Dropping powerful life advice or Buddhist teachings

Claiming his music is both a game changer and the kind of stuff that gets your blood pumping

Scatting, rhyming without meaning, or otherwise making wordplay

Outside of the parts that are straight-up nonsensical, the majority of the rap is very casual to the point of being rude. However, it's also interspersed with formal religious language. Again, both of these are how Kuukou talks, but I get why this would make it difficult for someone to translate.

I talk about this a lot whenever I translate anything, but an important (and maybe the most important!) part of any translation is determining the methodology, focus, and goals before you begin. I figure that if someone's asking me to look at song lyrics for songs that have been out for years, they probably care a lot more about the minutiae of what the character's saying than if I'm writing a rap as part of a longer work where readers aren't going to give it much attention. In that second case, it's probably more important to convey the appearance of a rap--rhyme, rhythm, what have you--and make sure I'm hitting the overall meaning rather than translate word-for-word. You know? The issue is, translating word-for-word would produce mostly nonsense on this one, since my interpretation of its meaning is largely coming from reading between the lines. There's also no real meaning outside of the four bullet points above. It's all vibes. So, this is a vibe-focused translation. When Kuukou says something with no meaning (that I can tell) outside of wordplay, I've exchanged it with a fresh wordplay. At the same time, since I assume the audience wants to know the minutiae, I put footnotes at the very end for the most curious souls. Finally, outside of wordplay moments, there is no attention paid to rhyming, rhythm, or line length.

Also I spent like forty minutes on it so it isn't a polished work of art or anything of the sort. Lyrics:

You wanna piece of this? That’s cool, tough guy. Bring it on. ‘Cause I’mma mess you up. Hmm? You’ve had enough? Yeah, bitch, I bet you’re fuckin’ SATIETIED. Who the hell do you think you are? Aw, who I am kidding? It doesn’t matter who you are. I’ve never met an ass I couldn’t kick! And while I’m here thrashing your sorry butt, listen up. I’m Kuukou from Bad Ass Temple, representing Nagoya, yo. And I’m gonna be world champion. Whazzat? Who do I think I am, some kinda fancy-pants hotshot? Nah, dawg. I’m a monk, haha! Get in the zone, do it or go home, this ain’t the scene you’ve known. [1] I’m a rebellious rhymer staging a revolution. C’mon, join me! Let me hear your voices!

“Enough determination can move mountains,” as they say. Yeah, a-a-a-and I’ve got determination for days.

San gha gharan bam! [2] S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping with my razzle-dazzle tongue [3] Check, ch-ch-ch-check it, che-wa-watch out Gha bam! S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping, BAT’s sexy leader [4] Kick, kickin’ kickin’ killer San gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam Gha gha gha gha gharan bam

Say what? Rules, rules, rules—who the fuck cares about rules? I’m the ruler now. A ruler and a schooler. [5] Yo, I’ve got that brand new music— When I ring this giant bell, people hear that shit far and wide. Beat it! And lyrics? You already know I spit so much fire they call me a dragon. I’m all about the impulses, the anarchy, let’s fuckin’ go! I’m a breath of fresh air up in this shit. Eight pulls, nine pulls, ten pulls—someone say temples? [6] If you don’t know already, then you oughta listen up. You don’t need any of these options. Go make your own. Paint that shit vibrantly. Go try something new! And if it goes so well you can indulge in some goddamn rejoicin’? Then hell yeah, now we’re talking.

Yo, man. The world’s all in how you see it, as they say, and don’t you ever forget it. A-a-a-and I may be a monk, but I’m not preachin’ just to scold you! [7]

San gha gharan bam! S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping with my razzle-dazzle tongue Check, ch-ch-ch-check it, che-wa-watch out Gha bam! S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping, BAT’s sexy leader Kick, kickin’ kickin’ killer San gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam Gha gha gha gha gharan bam

Yeah, life’s got ups and downs. You asking me, “Whatchu lookin’ at?” [8] Your ASS, lol got ‘em. Wassup, wassup, I’m a rhymer. I’m makin’ some good shit up in here. Hm? Ey, dance, dance over days when our hearts are aligned [9] Shoo bidoo doo bidoo Roo bidoo doo bidoo Tickili tickili tackili-tatt-too

Yeah! Haha! My rapping’s freakin’ EXHILARATORY. Hello! Aight, c’mon on, lemme give you some of this and wake you right up. Yo, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, ho!

Gharan bam gharan bam Gh-gh-gh-gh hey! Bring it on, tough guy! R-r-rapping, rapping, r-r-rapping with my razzle-dazzle tongue R-r-rapping, yeah, gh-gh-gh, hey!

Yeah, clear the scene, ‘cause I’mma reinvent the scene. [10] Yo, get outta my way. I’m Evil Monk, the dragon of Bad Ass Temple, you know. Rrrrrrah! [1] This last is literally "clear weather (空)" or "energetic vibes (空)." At face value, it appears to be nonsense for rhyming. However, at the very end of the song, Kuukou talks about "the vibes/the scene (空気)" changing and him changing it (which can also be read as the weather changing/clearing up), which makes me wonder if those two are related. Just in case, I wrote them with a possible connection in English too.

[2] 僧伽藍 (sangharan) is a short form of 僧伽藍摩 (sangharama), a Buddhist temple or monastery. Bam is, of course, the sound of Kuukou throwing hands.

[3] 饒舌 (jouzetsu) is a fairly formal word in Japanese to refer to excessive talking. However, I was surprised to learn in the process of TLing this that it's also Chinese for rapping which appears to be how Kuukou's using it here. Also, if you're curious how English "jazzy" became "razzle-dazzle," I realized near the end of the song that I needed to start this word with the same sound as "rapping" (because he scats the j sound on jazzy and jouzetsu) whereupon I set out to find a good synonym. The issue is, I wasn't sure exactly how the lyric writers were using the term, so I put "jazzy" in an English-to-Japanese dictionary to get "loud, invigorating, eye-catching." Yeah, that's Kuukou all right. "Razzle-dazzle" is similar and starts with an r, so there we go.

[4] The lyrics say "xy な leader" (the な is just indicating that "xy" is being used as an adjective, btw) which I assumed means sexy... ekkusu ii said quickly sounds like sekushii. To be sure I wasn't barking up the wrong tree entirely, I ran a quick Twitter search on that line and found a very large number of Japanese Tweeters thinking the exact same thing I was. (It looks like Kuukou's VA once flashed his collarbone on this line in a concert, delighting scores of collarbone lovers everywhere.) That being said, searching anything on Twitter and finding horny Tweets isn't exactly a novel concept. Well, if I'm wrong about this, then at least I'm in the good company of all the thirsty Kuukou fans. Hahaha. If this seems OoC to you, I feel like it's here mainly for fanservice, not necessarily because Kuukou's trying to get some with the person he's beating up and/or preaching at. Although, idk. If you ship Kuukou with anyone, you could very well see some parallels...

[5] Literally "I'll beat up [everything] including the roulette board." Wordplay on rules (ruuru), ruler (ruuraa), and roulette (ruuretto)

[6] Literally "Terapii (therapy), terapii, terapii, tera (temple)-- Oh, the age of temples?" Wordplay/stupid joke

[7] I don't like how I worded this line, but I don't care enough to spend much more time fussing over it. Kuukou's making a joke that, as a monk, he delivers religious sermons 説法. However, in colloquial terms, a 説法 is a telling-off when someone does something undesirable. Kuukou, as a frequent doer of undesirable things, gets these from his dad constantly. Therefore, he's being like, "This isn't the LAME STUPID kind of 説法... this is the kind that ROCKS! *sick guitar riff*"

[8] These two lines seem like complete non sequiturs because they're paired together in Japanese for rhyming. (nami ga dekiru/nani ga mieru)

[9] I admit that I'm struggling to understand this line because the grammar is very irregular. Japanese Twitter is not being especially helpful here, as most Tweets featuring it are some version of "God, this damn song is stuck in my head."

[10] Literally "[Someone] changes the atmosphere/scene. The atmosphere/scene changes." See note 1

[tempenensis]

If you have time, do you mind helping me with some character analysis? Gojo is very hard to write because he's a very internalized person who doesn't actually show his inner thoughts very often. The times we get them, he is much more serious and analytical than his frivolous personality is meant to show.

Gojo is popular for the same reason that people hate him: truthfully we don't know much about *him* when it comes to the kinds of details which can be used to figure out where someone's personality came from. He comes from a privileged background, so there's lots of people who assume that he never really went through any troubles - that he never had moments of self-doubt or needed to find his place in the world, that his powers likely came easy to him because he's a prodigy, that his family "spoiling" him meant that he was never subjected to the cruel or intense training we know some of the nobles have set up in their family homes. He's also always been special, and it's unlikely that he ever had a desire to be a total non-sorcerer. He could walk away any time he wanted, like Yuki, and it's not like anyone could stop him either.

And Gege never truly refutes this. Gojo's personality is also so good at pretending nothing ever touches him (thematic!) that from the surface it could seem true. He is not the kind of person to be filled with self-pity so we never get panels of him hashing out his situation with the other characters (not that he can because no one is his equal enough to do this...). He's so busy he literally doesn't have time to dwell. He has been shown spending time with his friends, but no one wants to talk about the shit job they all do during down time, they unwind and talk about regular stuff, like regular people, and simply enjoy the company.

But deduction also tells us that people who grew up normal and well adjusted don't behave the way he's behaving. (Nobara and Yuuji had the most normal sounding childhoods of all the students and it shows, even behind the typical shonen characterization).

Clearly, the flashback arc is shown because in a way that is the origin story of the current conflict, and the origin of Gojo's current personality (Geto had a lot of positive influence on him).

Gojo turns against the sorcerer system because it cost him Geto, not because of anything that may or may not have happened to him. He was doing every mission the higher-ups could possibly have sent him on after Riko died. He wasn't rebelling against the system, he was trying to solve it by becoming the single solution all on his own. Again, not the response of a well-adjusted person.

He was not originally the kind of person to take revenge or turn against a system for personal issues, although he later becomes a little like this when he starts taking young sorcerer's under his wing.

There's a lot of fandom speculation that has hints that these things could to be true:

He was spoiled by his family, but they were emotionally distant in the way of all sorcerer families, praising the technique and seeing the technique instead of the child who was wielding it. It's possible he doesn't associate closely with his clan apart from very structured social patterns because he realizes that being "special" never meant he didn't deserve being treated like a child or taught how to behave. He's perfectly aware he has a "bad personality" and knows that this is in part because of how he was raised.

He projects emotionally onto the students in his care, and acknowledges that something about the way he was treated (mostly as a fine commodity) was deeply unfair, but he hasn't actually found another way except to acknowledge at the end of the day that this job gives you trauma and it's usually not worth dying for unless that's your thing (I mean how he throws the students into situations where they think they're going to die and his concession is to place himself as the safety net), and that you shouldn't miss age-appropriate events just because some grown up tells you to become a better little cog.

A lot of the fandom likes to assume that using Six-Eyes is overstimulating or possibly painful for him right away because at least then there's a cost to his using his power, and once again the sorcerer system doesn't care about the cost to its workers (I'm not sure about the right away part. we know that if he doesn't cover his eyes he gets tired, but Gege doesn't want to give gojo any weaknesses so who knows how long it takes).

Gojo is maybe not "afraid" of getting truly close to people but he keeps people at arm's length. No one at this point could bear the burden he does, and that's what he believes it means to be his equal. It's possible but unlikely that if someone reached out to him first, he would let him. We know touching Infinity can feel like you're touching him from the first vs.Jogo fight, and it's likely he truly does keep it on all the time, leaving him physically and psychologically prepared to keep anyone from touching him at all times, even if they don't realize it...

(Overall, it's very funny to me that Gege's friends apparently think his personality is like Gojo's. It makes it more understandable why he wouldn't want to talk about his character, or be annoyed that the person who is a secondary became too popular, but also the cat is a troll and is the kind of person to laugh and walk away if you try to ask them a question -_-. However, if you take the answers we do have literally, it sounds like Gege accidentally made a character with a lot of depth, but he doesn't want to deal with it…)

But we have no answers to the truth of these presumptions in a lot of cases, and I could keep going but I'm running out of steam and I'm already sorry to put so much in your inbox….

I know you don't give headcanons because your blog is more textual analysis blog, so I won't ask for them! Part of me is not even sure what to ask, because we simply have no answers, and I don't think anyone is going to give them to us. That's fine because fandom wants and needs space to do its own interpretations of the character, but when you want an answer that isn't there, it can truly feel like diving off a cliff to make that choice all on your own and run with it (cries because that means there are literally infinite choices to make and each of them alters the story a little).

Maybe what I'm really asking is, if you have time, would you pick apart my characterization of Gojo above? I'm a bit curious about what you agree with and what you disagree with because you're so good with finding the text evidence! I already appreciate you reading if you've gotten this far, and I appreciate all the work you do in the fandom. I won't feel bad if you refuse (not that you will, but I just want to make it clear I have no expectations!!) Thank you again so much for all you do and for letting us play in the space with you!

Hi, anon!

If you're asking about my opinion, I must say, this is pretty solid read. I agree with almost everything that you said, and can't really add much to this. Gege had said before that he "has no personality", I think that means he doesn't think too much about Gojou's character, unlike for example Yuuji or Nanami. This makes us learns more about him by crumbles dropped here and then - and not a lot actually told explicitly in the manga. ((it sounds like Gege accidentally made a character with a lot of depth, but he doesn't want to deal with it)) is actually a good point lol, fans' interest in Gojou is definitely deeper than Gege himself.

One of the most interesting thing about him is that despite his vocal opposing of the current jujutsu system, he still does his duty to this very system that he opposes. Even if he messes around sometimes, Gojou is the only special-grade sorcerer who actually goes to missions assigned to him and has been mentioned to clean other sorcerers' messes - which is why he is so busy all the time. This speaks more about him knowing that his priority lies in saving other's lives. I think for him, he is an actual proper jujutsushi who has lived as one since he was born because of the techniques he inherited - maybe the point of being a jujutsu sorcerer and what he has to do has been driven to him since he can handle his own technique. So all he knows is to be a jujutsushi first - and his desire to change the system only comes later, after he saw what this system does to people around him, especially Riko and Getou. Even then, he tries to change it from inside, as jujutsushi who is one under the very system he want to change. All he knows is how to live as a jujutsushi and he doesn't seem to want to stop being one, even if it means he can destroy the system from outside. He wants jujutsushi to continue, but with a better system, not to stop or destroy all of them entirely.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

I'm sorry if you find this request sensitive, it's totally alright if you don't feel comfortable writing it...

But if it's alright with you, could you write about a almost suicidal hero? Who really can't die because of duties. But it's clear in their mannerisms what they are plotting... Not eating properly, self harm cuts, being super reckless in battles etc...

And a villian who hasn't seen their hero for like 3 months finally breaking into their home, seeing the hero in that condition, and taking them to their lair to take care of them.

It dawning onto them how they almost lost their hero, and completely breaking down before them. Then doing just anything possible to bring back the light on their face.

tw: mention of suicide

Actually, the villain wanted to say a simple “hi” as greeting. But they couldn’t bring themselves to form any words. They just stared at their bruised hero who was silently reading Dostoyevsky.

“Do you want to sit down?” they asked without looking up from their book. The villain remembered reading a few pages in a copy like the hero’s.

“What happened here?” the villain whispered. The hero didn’t answer, so the villain decided to clarify. “Did someone break in?”

Again, there was no answer, so the villain dropped the topic. Truth be told, the hero’s apartment wasn’t as nice as it used to be. The villain had been there once when their nemesis had kidnapped them months ago.

Books were everywhere — which wasn’t a bad thing but the amount was disturbing and concerning — primarily written in English, Ancient Greek, Latin but there were also others in different languages.

Everything was messy, it smelled like death and abandonment. It smelled like burnt toast and mouldy coffee.

So, the villain asked the obvious question, the one they’d been avoiding.

They’d learnt that people hated obvious questions. Someone wounded wasn’t very keen on hearing “Are you hurt?”

“What happened to you?” The hero laughed dryly as answer and closed the book. Finally, they looked up at the villain, their eyes weirdly glassy and sunken in.

“Would it be very dramatic to say that life happened to me?” they asked.

“I don’t think life means rotting in one’s home,” the villain said. It broke their heart to see the hero like this.

“Well, then you’re wrong. You’re rotting your whole life. Life is decaying.” The villain didn’t say a word at first. Where was the bubbly and energetic hero they’d known once? The one who told stories, not the one who was hinting at depressing philosophy.

“You read too much.”

“I don’t read enough,” the hero hissed. Their gaze was indifferent and cold. It hurt.

“It’s wonderful that you have a new hobby to kill time but I haven’t seen you in months and you look ill. I was worried about you, I’ve heard about some risky manoeuvres you’ve tried recently.”

The hero sighed.

“What do you care?”

“I missed fighting you,” the villain said. They weren’t the one who needed to be questioned. They didn’t want to be questioned. They shouldn’t be questioned. “Would you just please tell me what’s going on with you? There was no word from you all these months.”

“Oh, you know. Nothing much happened, I was just reading a lot…” The hero began to talk about a lot of things, just not about what the villain wanted to hear. They managed to form with their words a quick summary and analysis of their favourite Shakespearean sonnet but it was rather stuffy to listen to.

Meanwhile, the villain dared to let their eyes wander. But as soon as they fell on the hero’s forearms, they wished they hadn’t.

The villain stretched out their arm and slowly lifted the loose end of the horrible bandage. It happened so fast, the hero didn’t realise it at first, they assumed.

And the villain saw enough to know what was going on. Quickly, they pulled back, eyes wide open, their breathing heavy.

The hero had stopped talking about Shakespeare and was staring into nothing.

“You’ll come with me.”

“It’s nothing,” the hero answered, their eyes suddenly piercing through them.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I am fine.”

“You’re hurting yourself,” the villain said. “I am not a psychiatrist but you don’t seem fine.”

Their voice shook. And then they felt the tear rolling down their cheek. The realisation hit them harder than they wanted to admit.

“Oh god, are you planning on killing yourself?!” They gasped for air. They needed something to hold onto. They wanted to throw up. No, they wanted to scream. They wanted to cry and curse. They wanted to shake the hero and shout at them what in god’s name had forced them to do this.

The hero nodded slowly to answer the villain’s question.

“My sidekick’s training is coming to an end next week. After that, there isn’t anything for me to do anymore.”

The villain broke down in front of them and with that, they revealed every little feeling, admitted every little thought and confessed every little fear.

They hoped it would be enough to save their first love.

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

Now that CN is over I need more fics to read (I say as if I'm not in the middle of rereading CN and plan to reread ITYSG(AINLY) again because I'm literally obsessed with your fics). Do you have an recs? Also what's your favorite fics/comfort fics (you can include your own)? I always find it interesting to know what the authors of my favorite fics like to read when they aren't writing.

other than my other fics (babysitting in the apocalypse is my other zhongchi fic), i do have a some zhongchi recomendations! sadly i cannot actually go to my bookmarks atm nor provide direct links. i also don't really remember the authors' names of most of them? and you'd have to like.... save them for later, what with ao3 being down and all;; but here are some off the top of my head if you want to get planning:

(once ao3 gets back up i'll update this list with proper links and the authors' names and maybe more recomendations since i do have many more i just can't remember,,)

○ entirely out of spite by Bgtea - i generally assume everyone's already reading this one given how big it is (and how it was kind of my inspiration for cyanide even tho i never said it), but if you're not, holy shit are you in for a good one. literally anything bgtea makes is wonderful. this one is an au based on the premise of a different story, but you don't need any knowledge whatsoever of it to enjoy and understand eoos (tho consider it if you like the premise, bc it's also really good). the rundown is- a mondern ajax dies and wakes up in the body of tartaglia, the antagonist of genshin impact, a game he'd been playing before kicking the bucket. he is tasked by a weird isekai-anime looking menu to fill in the shoes of the antagonist or else, but he's not technically stopped from altering the story just a tiny bit or being ooc, so he goes about trying to play the tartaglia role without meeting the same end as tartaglia (who dies ingame). it's such a good fic i cannot recommend it enough - it's not complete yet, but the wait for each chapter is more than worth it, and bgtea always does an insane amount of research for everything they post.

○ literally any other zhongchi fic by Bgtea. there's this short one about pulcinella or capitano (i can't remember, it might've been pantalone) selling pictures of childe to increase morale in the fatui (something something pr strategies), that one is hilarious. there's another one about zhongli getting stuck as a dragon and childe taking care of him as the world slowly goes to shit from rex lapis being missing (a comment pointed out it might be called "ajax' adventure with dog-lizard" and it sounds about right for me). another one they have is the autumn winds are sighing i think. that one was posted WAY back, some of the info is a bit outdated, but it's still so, so good. i can't remember what it was all about, but i do remember it involves zhongli going to snezhnaya to meet childe's siblings. the pining and tension on that one is off the roof. i should read it again,,,

○ after everything by Amanveth (i think that's how their username is written,,) - literally palate cleansing fluff. there's really good angst as well but it's overall just very sweet and soft, very much a feel-good fic. it's about zhongli and childe going back to being friends after the events of the archon quest and slowly realizing they're in love. it's still ongoing but it updates shockingly fast, and it's a nice little thing to read before going to sleep.

○ the white cicada society by clementinesgulag. still ongoing i think, but i have paused reading it for reasons unrelated to the fic itself, so i can only really atest to the frist arc of it? but holy fuck is the first arc good. the angst is godly in this one, and i'm always a sucker for a good horror mystery. this one is about the gritty and slow reconciliation of post-archon quest zhongli and childe as they investigate a series of awful murders and terrifying paranormal shit (i'm pretty sure) going on in the city. (it might be revealed to not be paranromal later in the fic as that partiuclar plotpoint hadn't yet resolved when i paused it at the end of the first arc, but i wouldn't know. wouldn't make it any less good if it wasn't tho)

○ death became him by Merianon. also still ongoing i think, but part of the many fics i have paused reading for reasons unrelated to them (i have... way too many saved,,,). this one is about childe going back in time after dying and waking up as a god, and the fic starts there, so it's about how the events of the game go with childe as a god and not in the fatui. i can't remember all that much about it tbh, but i remember i really liked it, the concept was so interesting. i'm waiting for it to end.

○ a sight for sore eyes by ToumeiKyoudai. still ongoing afaik, but i paused reading it as of very recently (again for reasons outside of the fic). this one is the events of the game except childe is legally blind. you have no idea how interesting and hilarious this fic is, the premise is so simple but it's so nicely executed. i can't really say all that much more about it since it's basically just that- it's a retelling but childe's blind. and he's so fucking funny. it's all so fucking funny, and the worldbuilding is stellar, and i just really really like it i can't explain why exactly. it's not a comedy! but fuck it's so entertaining.

i have so many more that i wish i could put here but i'm not 100% confident in their titles nor which fic was which (happens when you have a ton bookmarked but have paused reading a lot of them), so i don't want to risk saying this fic is one thing when in reality it's something else completely different,,,

these last two i put below for reasons i'll explain in each of their blurbs, but they're still as recomended as those above!

○ lungs full of roses, by SecretlyACatLady. if this is the title (and i'm 99% certain it is, but i can't check), then this is hands down the BEST hanahaki angst i've ever read. i'm not kidding. this one is very specific in its angst tho, and i gather likely not what everyone is looking for in a hanahaki fic, but holy fuck. basically childe gets hanahaki here but knows he cannot afford to have anyone find out he has it (bc fatui) and also not that he died from it, i think? might be mistaking that particular plotpoint for another fic. anyway- he leaves liyue but zhongli goes to look for him bc he's confused and just wants to apologize for the whole tsaritsa's contract and all. it gets out of hand real quick when the ppl of mondstadt try to help by acting as pushy wingmen and it's so GOOD holy fuck. i've never liked when other characters try to push the main pair together and act all 'just kiss already we all know!' around them, and seeing it backfire as horribly as it could if it were a realistic scenario (tho enhanced bc childe) is so incredibly satisfying. the reason why i put it down here is 1) i'm not 100% sure that's the title and 2) if it hasn't been abandoned, it's been in hiatus for a while now. which is hearbreaking, but it's also such a good fic that i'd honestly recommend it regardless if only for the angst at the start. but i understand not everyone is in for something like that if it doesn't resolve/likely won't resolve (idk if it's abandoned tho but i understand that if a fic takes too long to update, people will fear the worst). so yeah,,

○ non-playable character, by Jouicifer. this one is here exclusively because i'm a sucker for horror mystery - it doesn't mean the zhongchi isn't good, but it's not as prevalent in the plot as in white cicada (another horror mystery), so i can't exactly put it with the other more zhongchi-centric fics? not that the zhongchi isn't here, but. hard to explain. this one is also hard to explain in general, i'm not sure if it's based on the premise of another story or if this is a highly-secific trope/sub-genre in china (i think?), but the author refers to it as 'unlimited flow', so look it up if you want to be sure. either way, much like with eoos, it doesn't matter if you know anything about whatever that might be to enjoy and understand the story. the rundown is childe and a bunch of other people are players in this sort of virtual-reality scenario hopper, where they get put in 'games' with other players where they can die (tho idk if die die irl as well). basically, in the newest scenario they get thrown into, it's a horror murder mystery about a haunted mansion, and their guiding npc is zhongli, whom childe has met in another scenario and whom he is an absolute simp for. god idk how to explain it, it's just so good; but you need to be there for the plot first and the ship second. the ship is there! it's just the plot takes presedence. but holy fuck is the plot good. the reason why it's down here, like lungs full of roses, isn't bc of the plot or the ship being secondary, but... well, it's also been in hiatus for a long while now. to this fic's credit in particular, it was in a long hiatus before, but updated! out of nowhere! and then it went into its current hiatus, so. again, i understand people don't like that, but i'm a patient person so i'm willing to keep it in my bookmarks for as long as it takes (and forever if it gets abandoned). it's just THAT good. and since there's not much horror murder mystery in this fandom (or in fics in general), i'll take whatever i can get. the mystery is good in this one, so it helps.

(edit: added some authors and a fic title, thank you archon-of-chaos and redwormonastring!)

[sports-on-sundays]

football in the rain / Antoine Griezmann

Summary: Antoine x female!Spanish!reader - You met a celebrity before he became a celebrity.

Warnings: running away from home, angst I suppose, missing home, sad ending, melancholy vibes, bit of Spanish (sorry if it's not correct), slight parasocial relationship?

Author's Note: I'M BEGGING YOU. PLEASE READ THIS! I wrote this because I'm a huge fan of his, okay, but listen, I know a lot of you couldn't care less about this but it was an idea I had that I needed to write down. It's not even romantic at all, so you don't have to worry about that! I'm just super proud of this and it would make me so happy to know someone read and enjoyed it. Please, if you don't enjoy it as a fic, then enjoy it simply as a story! Anyway of course I know after this mega long author's note I'm going to get 0 notes anyway.

Requested: Be real.

The year was 2006. The rain beat on your head, soaking through your clothes, as you walked, carrying nothing but a backpack on your back, in the middle of the night.

You stared down at your shoes as you walked, watching as water squished out of them with every step. You let out a deep sigh.

But suddenly, a football gently ran into your foot.

You looked up just in time to see a soaking wet teenage boy, running towards you, saying quickly, "¡Lo siento!"

His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, and his clothes were also soaking, hanging from his body. He had no shoes on, which you found strange.

You picked up his ball and held it, saying, "Who are you?" A part of you assumed he was just some homeless guy who had come across a ball and decided to start playing with himself.

"Mi nombre es Antoine," he said, and it became clear Spanish wasn't his first language. He eyed the ball, waiting for you to hand it back to him.

"Are you French?" you asked.

He nodded, looking at you with his big eyes. "Can I have my ball back?"

You frowned, and, being merely a teenager, asked bluntly, "Are you homeless or something?"

The boy blinked in surprise. "No! I play for Real Sociedad." He gestured, and you were surprised to see you were right by the academy, and you hadn't even noticed.

"Really?" you had asked, sweeping a wet strand of hair out of your face.

He nodded.

"How come you're out practicing in the middle of a rainy night, then?"

You watched as his jaw tightened a bit, but he responded back simply, "I want to improve. I practice whenever I can."

You laughed a bit at that as you asked incredulously, "Don't you get any sleep?"

He shrugged. "Of course I do."

You nodded, and stood there. You glanced at his ball, before rolling it back to him. He stopped it with his foot, which compelled you to ask, "Why aren't you wearing any shoes?"

He shrugged. "They got too wet on the grass. It's easier without."

"Won't you slip?"

He shrugged for about the one hundredth time.

"Well, it makes you look homeless."

"I don't care."

You nodded, shifting your backpack strap on your shoulder, as he said, "But what are you doing, walking in the middle of the night, like you are?"

You shrugged. "I'm running away from home."

The boy blinked in shock as he began kicking the ball back near the field. You followed, somewhat intrigued by this guy, Antoine, with his bright eyes, as he asked, "Why would you do that?"

"I don't know. I'm sick of my home," you said, shrugging off your backpack.

"Want to play?" Antoine offered.

You nodded, slipping off your coat, too. You started playing, just going easy on each other, before Antoine said, eyeing the jersey you were wearing, "Atlético? Are you from Madrid?"

You stood a little straighter, proud of your club. "No, but my uncle is. He's who I'm running away to. I'm sick of my parents."

"You said that," Antoine said as he intercepted your dribble.

"You're really good," you complimented.

"I'm going to go professional, soon enough," the boy smiled proudly.

You nodded. The two of you kept playing, until the score was 3-2, Antoine winning, and you flopped down on the grass next to your backpack, both covered in not only water, now, but also sweat.

"Fernando Torres?" Antoine asked, glancing at the back of your jersey. "Is he your favorite player?"

You grinned, nodding. "He's the best."

He nodded back, and you sat silently in the grey night together for some minutes, before Antoine asked softer, "Why do you want to run away from home?"

You frowned. "I don't know. I want something new. My parents expect me to do so much, and then they never even care about me. They're so controlling. I mean, I'm fifteen! They treat me like a little kid."

"Oh..." Antoine nodded again, trailing off. "Do you think they love you?"

You blinked in surprise at that question. "Of course they do!"

He nodded, and said simply, kind of suddenly, "I'm from France."

"You said."

"My parents are still back there, and my siblings. In France. I hardly ever have gotten to see them... Since... I moved here, for football."

"Well, why didn't you join a club closer to your home, then?" you asked. It seemed fairly obvious to you.

"No clubs would take me."

"What? Why?! You're good!"

But Antoine shrugged, a sad tinge to his voice, so much so, that for just a moment, you thought he might cry. "Apparently, not good enough... What's your name, anyway?"

You told him your name, and he nodded. "Mucho gusto."

You sat there for a while, together, silently. The rain subsided a bit, and finally, you stood up, grabbing your backpack. Antoine stood up with you as you said, "Well, I better get going."

Antoine nodded and said, "Bye. It was really nice, to..." he trailed off, because neither of you really knew what had just happened.

"Yeah," you smiled, understanding. "You too. Antoine."

He grinned back a bit as you turned on your heel to get walking.

But suddenly, he grabbed your wrist. You turned to face him again, your eyebrows scrunching together. "Wait," he said.

You stared.

He let out a shaky breath, before saying, "If your parents love you... I don't think you should run away... I know it's hard, but I don't think you'll regret it in the end."

You saw the glimpse of all the sadness in his eyes. The loneliness.

He knew how it would feel.

His heart was aching for his family.

You assumed it was just a stray raindrop that slowly rolled down his cheek.

You swallowed, and slipped your hand down to squeeze his. "Thanks, Antoine. I'll think about it."

"I don't think I'll ever forget you," he said suddenly, softer.

You blinked in surprise. "W- Why?"

He grinned suddenly. Those sparkling sad blue eyes shining. "I've had a nice time with you, practicing."

You nodded, smiling a little back. "Yeah I had fun, too. Well... bye, Antoine."

He let your hand slip out of his as he called, "Thank you!"

At that time, you didn't have any idea what he was thanking you for as you walked away.

Sometimes, today, you think about it. Now you figure he was just lonely. A boy in the world striving for success, but couldn't see the bright path ahead of him, at the time. Someone who kept going simply because he was a dreamer. He never let go of hope.

That night, you didn't walk to the station and get on a train to Madrid. You went home, took a warm shower, and went to bed.

And after that, things got better for you, slowly but surely.

And you thanked Antoine for that, partially.

And you hoped things would get better for him, too.

Well, you saw that with your own eyes. You saw him get older, and get a place on the first team.

And though perhaps you didn't realize it at the time like Antoine did, the same went for you.

That night, a strange connection you would never forget was formed.

There was no way you could ever forget that lonely night with Antoine, playing football in the rain.

You stand in line, holding two jerseys in your hand. All around you, you, people gushed and huffed and jabbered and pushed in mostly excitement.

Ahead of all the people, somewhere, was Antoine Griezmann, sitting at a table, signing fans' items.

Antoine, who years ago, you played football with in the rain.

You're sure the fame, the money- it changed him. You assume that's something that happens with everyone. But there were so many moments when your heart pounded, and all you could think was, Once upon a time, I stood in the rain and talked to that boy. In that moment, on that one night, we were connected.

Now, eighteen years later, you're determined to let your paths cross again.

He's a famous footballer, with everything anyone could ever ask for. Practically all the money in the world, and a beautiful wife and children.

You're just you, a woman in her thirties who has had a generally alright life, but remain middle class and alone in the world.

But there's a connection you don't want to let go of.

There were moments.

When your uncle phoned you to tell of the news of the young Real Sociedad hotshot who was signing for Atlético Madrid.

When you watched him walk off the pitch crying, after a loss to Germany in the 2014 World Cup.

When you stood up from your sofa and screamed for joy when he scored his first goal for your club, Atlético de Madrid.

When he won the World Cup for France in 2018, and you watched him smiling in the rain with the glimmering golden trophy in his hand.

When you watched him go off to Barcelona, and still stayed his supporter through that mess.

And then you saw him come back to his club. Your club.

And become it's top goalscorer.

And now you're determined to see him face-to-face again.

It seems to happen so slow, and so quick, and the same time. You're not sure if it's tedious or sudden, but either way, at some point, you step up to the table with a lump in your throat.

He looks up and meet your eyes.

He won't recognize me, will he?

"Could you sign two things for me? Antoine?"

He nods, "Of course," and you lay down your jersey of his, with the number seven on the back of it. His Spanish is a lot better now, but you know that. You watch as he scribbles his signature on the shirt and hands it back to you with a smile.

You swallow down the lump in your throat as you lay down the second jersey.

"Fernando Tor-" his voice falters, "Torres," he finishes.

He glances back up at you.

A hint of uncertainty.

Does he really recognize this old jersey?

Is it really ringing a bell, or am I just imagining things?

You breathe deeply.

Come on, Y/n. Say something. This is your chance. This is your one moment, your mind screams as he signs the second, ragged, quite older jersey.

He hands it back to you, but his eyes linger on you longer.

You blurt, "Mi nombre es Y/n."

His bright blue eyes become slightly wider as he opens his mouth to speak.

But suddenly a fan pushes your back in annoyance, and a security guard says, "Miss, we've got a lot of people to get through, and Griezmann doesn't have a lot of time."

And just like that, you're swept away by the crowd. The moment is lost, and you stare at your shoes, clutching your jerseys. You stare at all the other shoes around you, your brain drowning out all the noise.

Your heart pounds.

He remembered me. He did.

Your head aches. All you needed was another moment. All you needed was-

What did you need? Did you really expect anything? Could you even have expected anything?

You feel dizzy, as your stomach drops, and the whole world seems to spin.

You should just be happy you got your jerseys signed, by a star like him.

But to you, he feels like more than just a distant star.

You walk out, swallowing the newest lump forming in your throat, not even taking a moment to look back and see the blue eyes still glancing up and burning into your back.