#my inbox is always open 💙

[mikoworks]

concept: that one pinkie pie tulpa post, but with Jimmy who made a fucked up Polle tulpa

That is utterly cursed. I imagine if he did have a Polle tulpa, it’d have a bunch of eyes like a spider and human hair and teeth. Like this:

Funny coincidence that the Anya comic I’m drawing also has messed up Polle/horse imagery. Just imagine Jimmy is there instead of Anya (But, for those of you who want an Anya comic update, here you go. Much love 💙).

[myalchod]

As many lines as many roses? Hmm can I put 293658 roses? No? Okay fine, how about five?🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

I mean, you could put that many, but I'm not sure I have anything that would provide that many contiguous sentences. 😂 So instead, have yet another post-canon Fate AU, one I'm pretty sure you've not seen anything from before. And since I'm feeling nice, I'll give you a couple of extra sentences to alleviate the highly atypical (for me) one-word ones.

Thought? What is thought, alone? Nothing. Another voice, distant, the murmur familiar as it echoes endlessly. If she had hands she would clap them over her ears, but she has neither, and she cannot shut it out. (If she had a mouth she would scream, but that too she lacks.) Nothing, the voice repeats, with something she might have once named pleasure, and so we can begin.

[ send me a rose? ]

[finleyforevermore]

Have you ever seen a quokka? Do you like them?

The only quokka I've ever seen is Barry from The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog, and if they're anything to go off of, I love quokkas!

Thank you for your question, Anon! :)

[aventurineswife]

“Reqs are open and my inbox is empty‼️‼️”

Not for long. (Now I sleep, ehe.)

—I’d absolutely adore you to write a scenario for Dan Heng, Sunday, and Aventurine (Possibly Shadow if you feel real extra tonight.)

How would each character react towards their partner falling asleep against them? Whether it’s late at night, early morning, they’re simply too comfortable to keep themselves awake.. and this would dawn on our dear characters. Feeling a sense of warmth, knowing their presence brings such a high level of comfort n’ security, where we—the reader fall asleep with ease no matter where we are so long as we have them. 💙✨

Anchored in Stillness

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Comfort, Quiet Moments Softness, Vulnerability Gentle Affection, Bonding, Emotional Reflection, Introspection, Slow Burn, Established Relationship.

It was late in the quiet hours of the night, the gentle hum of the Astral Express barely audible as it sailed through the endless expanse of space. Dan Heng sat in a corner of the lounge, eyes scanning a book that had long since lost its grip on his attention. His focus, though steady and disciplined as always, was elsewhere now. The warmth of the room, combined with the soft whirring of the train, created a sense of peace he rarely afforded himself.

It was then that he felt it—soft pressure on his shoulder. His eyes drifted to his side, and he froze for a moment. There, resting against him, was you, your body relaxed in a deep, untroubled sleep. Your presence, warm and quiet, was almost a contrast to his own habitual distance. Dan Heng’s gaze softened slightly, the weight of the moment settling over him.

His lips parted, but no words came. He didn’t want to disturb you. There was something deeply comforting about this—how, even in the quietest, most vulnerable moment, you trusted him to be your anchor. He didn’t feel the need to say anything. The connection was unspoken, but it was real.

Dan Heng shifted subtly, ensuring his posture was just right so you could remain comfortable. He could feel the steady rhythm of your breathing against him, each inhale a small reassurance. It was in these moments, in the quiet stillness of the night, that he allowed himself a brief reprieve from the guilt, from the weight of the past that clung to him so tightly. Here, now, in the silence, he felt something akin to peace. He wasn’t alone—not anymore.

And as you continued to sleep soundly, his own eyes fluttered closed, the faintest trace of a sigh escaping his lips. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t running from something.

The moonlight outside cast a soft glow over the Astral Express, and the cabin was bathed in a tranquil, almost ethereal light. Sunday sat at the edge of the couch, a book forgotten in his lap. His eyes wandered to the window, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere. The gentle rhythm of the train’s movement was lulling, but it wasn’t what held his attention tonight.

It was the soft, rhythmic sound of breathing beside him. He turned, and there, curled up against his side, was you, eyes closed in peaceful slumber. Your body was relaxed, the weight of your head resting against his shoulder. For a moment, Sunday merely watched you, his eyes softening as he observed the vulnerability you showed in your sleep.

His wings fluttered slightly, as if subconsciously reacting to the warmth you exuded. He felt an unfamiliar warmth in his chest—a sense of duty, yes, but something deeper, too. A connection that went beyond his usual capacity for empathy. It was the kind of bond that, despite all his doubts and internal struggles, felt undeniably right.

He felt your presence, steady and grounding, and it soothed him in ways he couldn’t quite describe. The idea that he could be someone who provided comfort—that he could be the source of someone else’s peace—was something he had never fully embraced before. Yet, here it was, real and undeniable.

Sunday’s breath caught for a moment as he allowed himself the luxury of simply being in the moment. He was so used to thinking of others, to sacrificing for the collective good, that he often forgot how to simply be for himself. But with you here, asleep and safe, he felt a strange sense of ease. It was a quiet reassurance, like a whisper in his heart that reminded him of the small, beautiful connections that made life worth living.

His hand shifted slightly, resting over your shoulder, fingers brushing lightly against your skin. He wasn’t sure if you were aware of his touch, but it didn’t matter. The warmth between you was enough, and with a soft sigh, Sunday closed his eyes for a brief moment. There, in the stillness, he allowed himself the rare indulgence of peace.

Aventurine, ever the master of managing his surroundings, sat in his luxurious chair, surveying the quiet room with a calculated detachment. It was well into the night, and the flickering light of a candle danced across the polished surfaces of the cabin, casting long shadows on the walls. He should have been focusing on the many schemes, the next move in the game, but something about tonight felt different.

He had thought he was alone in the room, but as he shifted slightly in his chair, he felt a warmth at his side. Looking down, he saw you, your head gently resting against his shoulder, your body soft and relaxed as you drifted off to sleep. Your presence was unexpected, yet it wasn’t unwelcome.

Aventurine’s eyes narrowed slightly, the usual hint of calculation in his gaze replaced by something softer. He had never been one to let his guard down, not even for a moment, but here he was, caught off-guard by the intimacy of it all. His mind raced as he quickly calculated the right course of action—should he move? Should he speak?

But then he paused.

Your presence, your comfort, filled the space around him. The gentle rise and fall of your chest, the warmth radiating from you—it was an unexpected peace, a momentary break from the endless games of strategy he played with his life. For all his calculated risks and meticulous plans, he hadn’t anticipated something as simple as this.

He allowed himself a rare, almost imperceptible smile, his eyes flickering with a touch of vulnerability—just for a moment. His gloved hand moved almost instinctively, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle despite the harshness of his demeanor. He hadn’t realized how much he had longed for this kind of closeness, this kind of warmth.

The silence was heavy with unspoken words, the tension of his past and his ambition swirling just beneath the surface, but for now, Aventurine let it all fade into the background. Your presence grounded him, and for the first time in a long while, the thrill of the gamble didn’t feel so urgent. With a quiet sigh, he allowed his body to relax, his hand resting on the armrest of the chair as he let his thoughts drift, your warmth a silent reminder of the connection he never quite understood but desperately needed.

In the soft silence of the night, Aventurine let the game rest, just for a while.

[xuchiya]

Hello there! First I wanted to say I love your writings:) I don't know if you accept requests or not and it's my first time doing this so I don't really know how to ask but if possible could you please write something about y/n being in a established relationship with Jongho and she can't resist plaýing with his squishy cheeks or giving him soft kisses all over his face and behind his ears whenever they're lying in bed or after showers when she's drying his hair. Pretty much just y/n having cuteness aggression for Jongho and him not complaining or blushing but never saying anything about it so she is suddenly hit with the fear that maybe he actually hates it but he's not saying anything to not break her heart. And Jongho comforting her about it. Love you💙

hi my loves! First, I want to apologise! I know you requested this one a few days ago. I am deeply sorry for the delay too. But thank you so much, my loves! I am grateful and don't worry, my inbox is always open for request. I hope you enjoy this story hehhe 💚🤍

"Soft cheeks, softer hearts" || choi jongho || one-shot

|genre: non!idol jongho. fluff. girlfriend! reader |mentions: fluff.

The soft hum of the evening filled your shared apartment, broken only by the occasional rustle of the towel in your hands as you dried Jongho’s hair. He sat cross-legged on the bed, his damp head nestled comfortably against your chest. The scent of his shampoo lingered in the air, mixing with the warm glow of the bedside lamp.

Jongho, ever composed, had his eyes closed, his features serene. His broad shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath, and the quiet intimacy of the moment made your chest feel full.

You smiled, unable to resist the urge bubbling within. Carefully, your fingers brushed over his flushed cheeks. The heat of his recent shower still clung to his skin, making him look boyishly soft. “Your cheeks are so cute,” you murmured, as if talking to yourself, but Jongho’s lips twitched faintly in response.

Cupping his face, you squished his cheeks gently. “You’re too squishy. How do you expect me to survive when you’re this cute?”

Jongho’s eyes opened just enough to glance at you, his gaze unbothered, almost amused. “You say that every time,” he replied, his voice low and slightly raspy.

“Well, it’s true every time.” You leaned forward, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. Then his nose. Then the curve of his jawline. Each kiss was soft, lingering, and filled with affection. You moved to the sensitive spot behind his ears, smiling at the faint twitch of his shoulders as you kissed him there too.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his tone somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. But he didn’t stop you. He never did.

You grinned, your heart swelling at how pliant he was in your hands. “Don’t ‘Y/N’ me. It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.”

He didn’t respond, simply closing his eyes again and letting you have your way.

But as your fingers lingered against his cheek, an uninvited thought crept in.

What if he only let you do this because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings? What if Jongho found your constant need to touch, kiss, and dote on him suffocating? He was quiet, reserved, and stoic—the complete opposite of your playful, affectionate self.

Your hands stilled, and the warmth in your chest was quickly replaced by a cold pang of doubt.

“Jongho…” you began, your voice softer now, hesitant.

“Hm?” His eyes flicked open, and he tilted his head to look at you.

“Do you… do you hate it when I do this?” Your voice wavered, and you hated how small you sounded. “Like, when I touch your face or kiss you all over. I know I do it a lot, and you never say anything, so I thought…”

His brow furrowed slightly, confusion knitting across his features. “Why would I hate it?”

“Because you never say anything,” you explained, biting your lip. “I don’t want to be annoying or make you uncomfortable. And I know you’re sweet enough to not tell me if it bothers you, but—”

“Y/N,” Jongho interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. He reached up, his hand curling gently around your wrist, pulling it away from where you’d been fidgeting with the towel. “Look at me.”

You met his gaze, and the sincerity in his dark eyes made your breath hitch.

“I don’t hate it,” he said, his voice steady and warm. “Not even a little.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” His lips quirked into a faint smile, the kind that made your heart skip. “I don’t say much because there’s nothing to say. I like it when you do this.”

Your chest tightened, overwhelmed by his simple but heartfelt words. “You like it?”

“I love it,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, as if the confession was just for you. “I love the way you show me how much you care. You’re not annoying, Y/N. You’re affectionate, and that’s how you love. And I love being loved by you.”

His words hit you like a warm tide, washing away every trace of doubt. “Jongho…”

“Don’t overthink this, okay?” He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “If anything ever makes me uncomfortable, I’ll tell you. But you don’t have to hold back. I like when you’re yourself with me.”

Your lips trembled as a relieved laugh bubbled out of you. “You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” He smiled wider now, his thumb brushing over your hand.

You leaned down, cupping his face with both hands again, and this time you kissed him deeply on the lips. He let out a soft hum, his hands finding your waist, grounding you in his quiet but unwavering presence.

When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but tease, “If my kisses are squishing your cheeks, you’ll have to tell me.”

Jongho’s laugh was deep and warm, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re lucky I’m addicted to you.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your steady breaths and the quiet rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

And when Jongho finally laid back on the bed, pulling you down beside him, you resumed your ritual of peppering kisses along his jawline and behind his ears. This time, you did it with no hesitation, no doubt—just love.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

And so, you didn’t.

[boypied]

ᴘʀᴏғɪʟᴇ:

“BOYPIED” -- [he/him ... m!reader fanfics writer]

-- writing for bottom/top m!reader & i try to post as frequently as i possibly can. “minors - dni” & “f!readers - dni”

[inbox → open] -- [requests → open]

ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɢᴇ:

welcome to my blog, old, and new supporters. going forward, i will be posting two times a week (at minimum), but it will likely be more. i will try to post an even amount of fluff & smut with a variety of different men from multiple different movies & television shows, so keep an eye out. ;)

2025 ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

2024 ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ -- sʜᴏʀᴛ ɴ' sᴡᴇᴇᴛ

ᴅᴇʟɪᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴇ ᴀ “sᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴘɪᴇ” 🥧

ᴛᴡɪᴛᴛᴇʀ -- ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛʏ

ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʏ ᴛʀɪɴɪᴛʏ: ;)

@dqrkhold

@starboye

@boypied

sɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ɢᴜɪᴅᴇʟɪɴᴇs:

1. always be kind & respectful

2. no unnecessary graphic requests e.g sexual assault

3. don't spam requests [like 10+ it happened before lmao]

ʟɪᴋᴇ & ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ 💙

[goldsainz]

❝ IN MY HEAD, WE BELONG ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . art donaldson x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. warnings . . . smut (riding, protected sex), cheating, reader’s kinda delusional, toxic behaviour, not proofread.

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . all it takes is a text and a lonely hotel room.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . first art fic i am beyond excited 🤭 many more to come and my requests are open so if you have any ideas feel free to leave them in my inbox!!!!!! forgot how fun writing smut was, kinda crazy to have my first art fic be smut but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless 💙

[ word count: 1,7k ]

You know it is wrong to long for Art Donaldson. To not have moved on, but your life is incomplete without him. You tried to find someone else, someone who can compare to him, yet there is no one like him.

He’s not yours, no, in fact he’s married now. He has managed to move on from you, he has created a life for himself and he doesn't need you. Not like you need him, anyway.

You tune in for his matches, watch him beat his opponents and then run to his beautiful wife to celebrate. They actually looked good together, seemed like a proper couple and were the perfect faces of tennis. You could not be that for Art, you're too much of a mess to even dare to be as idyllic as Tashi Duncan.

Maybe that's why it feels so good that he’s currently under you, that it's your name he's moaning and your kisses he’s searching for. Maybe that’s the reason why you feel so unbothered by wrecking a home, because if he cheats, is there even much of a home to begin with? You don't think so. 

He’s like a vice you cannot seem to quit. Even when you first broke up, it took less than two days for him to hit you up and for you to be outside his house. Nobody knows you like Art, and nobody knows Art like you. You wonder if his wife is aware of how much he dreams of you, that when he’s with her, he’s thinking about you.

All it takes is for one of you to reach out, and you both throw all dignity out the window. The measly barriers you both created collapse in a second, no words need to be said to know what the other wants. It is quite simple between you two, perhaps in a way that is too carnal and not emotional enough. 

That is why, for some reason you don’t care enough to think about, he’s in your hotel room. 

You’re in New York City, alone in a hotel room that feels too big for just one person. You tried to go to a bar, tried to mingle with people in hopes of making your life less lonely. For just one night, at least.

It is not intentional that Art is also in New York, in fact, you’ve tried to steer clear of him and his overbearing presence in your life. It has been months since your last conversation, which consisted of him saying “Happy birthday” and you answering “Thanks”. 

You go back to your hotel room after your attempts at not being alone fail miserably. It is partly your fault, because you always end up in the same vicious cycle of comparing the men you meet to Art. No one can compare to him, and you damn your heart for taking over and not letting you have some enjoyment. 

You’re sprawled out on the bed, wearing your pajamas and scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You consider going to sleep, but something inside you tells you to stay awake and you receive your answer in the form of an imessage notification.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Hey, I heard you’re in NYC.

You

Yeah.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Wanna meet up?

You

Why?

Art (Do NOT contact)

Don’t know. 

Just missed you.

You

You can’t just say that.

Art (Do NOT contact)

I know. 

Are you free right now?

You

It’s 11pm, Art.

Art (Do NOT contact)

So? 

Send me your location.

You

[Location] 

Room 904.

Art (Do NOT contact)

Be there in 20. 

You’re thrust back into reality when he moves beneath you, hitting a spot that makes you arch your back and has you mewling. Guilt doesn’t even make its way through your mind, if anything, the scandalous nature of what you’re doing makes you wetter than you care to admit. 

Art looks up at you like you’re a goddess, a siren that he fell prey to, his eyes shine when he takes in the sight above him. Your tits are bouncing in front of his face, and he has to resist the urge to attach his mouth to one of them, but he’s too concentrated on the faces you make. 

You whine when he grabs your hips and moves you up and down quicker than before. Your hands are planted on his chest, grabbing onto whatever semblance of support you can get. You know how much he likes for you to be on top, loves it when you take control but today he’s antsier and needs to take some control back. So, he settles for tightly gripping your hips and deciding the pace of your movements.

You lean down and connect your lips with his. The kiss is sloppy, teeths clashing and your mouths open to let out a moan when the other does something that makes your toes curl. 

“Please,” he breathes out against your mouth, “Please, let me come.”

“Do you deserve it?” you ask, rearing back to look at him but you don't slow your movements either. 

“Yes, yes I do,” he pants, brows furrowing when he feels the heat in his core bubbling up.

“Only if I come first,” you say, taking one of his hands and placing it on your sensitive nub. 

Art moans at your response and his moves are hasty, rubbing you like his life depends on it. You let out short breaths at his touch, the heat inside you creeping up and ready to set off like fireworks.

He looks at your blissed out expression, how your bottom lip is between your teeth in an attempt to conceal the beautiful sounds you make. He’s tempted to use the other hand that’s on your hip to take your lip away from your teeth, but his thoughts are cut short when you clench tightly around him.

“I’m close, Art,” The blonde doesnt need to hear you say it, he knows your body like the back of his hand. 

It is no surprise when you come around him, a high-pitched moan escapes your mouth when your body shakes from pleasure. Like clockwork, Art spills inside his condom almost instantly after your release washes over you. 

He gives a few sloppy thrusts after he comes, feeling you collapse onto his chest, tired out from your orgasm. Art kisses the side of your head, heavily breathing and trying to form a coherent thought. Though it is quite hard when he is so fucked out. 

You separate yourself from his chest and press another kiss to his lips. Relishing on the closeness between you, he places his hand on the nape of your neck and keeps you in place.

After a few seconds he slips himself out of you. You whine at the loss of the fullness you felt, but he quickly shushes you with a simple kiss. It’s softer this time, sweeter than you deserve and more romantic than you’d like. 

You remove yourself from being on top of him, and lay down beside him. The pillow is soft and comforting, you keep your gaze trained on the ceiling and try to calm your harsh breathing down. You hear the rustle of the bed sheets and then feel yourself being covered by them, the soft touch of Art’s hand when he handles the sheets and brushes his knuckles against your chest makes you shiver

“This was fun,” he lets out, like he just got off an amusement park attraction. 

You can only hum in response, slightly turning your head to look at him. That is your mistake, because once you take in his beauty you cannot stop doing so. It makes you want to do things you shouldn’t, say things that would ruin whatever’s going on between you two.

“How long are you staying here for?” the question takes you aback, do you want him to know you schedule? A small part of you, the rational one, tells you to lie and put this little rendezvous behind you. But the part that makes most of the decision, the one that you damn each day, makes you tell him the truth.

“Until friday,” you respond, playing with the corner of the bedsheets between your fingers.

“Okay, cool,” he says back, it’s tuesday and that leaves you with just a couple days to see the other. How badly you wish that this wasn't what your relationship was now, but you have to make do with what you have. At least until you're pulled back into reality. 

You’re not sure why but the idea of him seeking you out once more, feels your tummy with a fuzzy feeling akin to butterflies.

“Yeah,”

Time seems to stand still for a few minutes, with his hands behind his head and yours resting just below your chest. It’s as if neither of you want to break the moment that’s happening, one that has a close expiration date.

After a moment of quiet, he finally breaks the silence, “I’m glad I’m here,”

You don't know how to respond so you settle for a simple, “Me too,”

For a moment, you both just look at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. It's a fleeting connection, intense yet fragile, and you know that despite it neither of you belong to the other.

“I should get going,” he tells you, sitting up from his laid down position in bed and searching for his sprawled around clothes.

“Sure,” you answer as you watch him clothe himself, intently keeping your eyes trained on his figure.

“I’ll text you,” he says when he’s done clothing himself, “We could hang out again,”

“Okay,”

He looks at you once more, and you swear you see him hesitate when he reaches for the door handle. Something inside you aches for him to kiss you goodbye, to give you that intimacy that youre no longer privy to.

But as quick as that thought crosses your mind, he’s out the door.

Art doesn't text you as he said he would. You want to be mad at him, but you know you’ll be waiting for the day he messages you, and you can tally another clandestine meeting to your board. After all, you belong eternally to him and he to you. 

[signedkoko]

Hi again~! Your first batch of valentines are super cute, you did a great job! Also, I would be honored to be 💙 Anon if you’d like! Sorry for responding late, but I didn’t want to clog up your inbox! Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to come off anon. 😂

I have a fresh request for you too, I hope you’ll like it! Would you please do romantic headcanons or a little oneshot (I’ll let you decide which you feel like!) for Vox and f!reader going out dancing? I got the idea in my head recently and it won’t go away! Like just imagine him taking reader to one of those 1950s style nightclubs with the big ol’ dance floors for a night out—I think it’d be so cute! 😊

Thank you as always for all your hard work!

-💙

Rum Punch [Romantic]

In which on one random boring night you bring up how you miss dancing at clubs, and Vox only wants to make you happy. Reader is female.

Song - Don't Start Now x Hung Up Remix

There was nothing peculiar going on for you or your husband tonight; just normal days highlighted by seeing one another. There was nothing wrong with repetition, of course, you were both comfortable and happy as you were most nights.

But tonight, you couldn't help but feel inspired by the various songs switching as Vox scrolled through sinstagram. 

"If you like staring at me so much, why not take a picture?" The voice blurted from your phone, and when you looked down at it, Vox's head had taken over the screen. 

Rolling your eyes, you swiped the screen, which caused his visage to switch back to his main monitor. 

"Not you, though I know you just love the idea of being my only focal point." Your neutral expression shifted into a smile, enjoying your usual teasing. 

"I was just feeling..." As you trailed, the overlord leaned toward you expectantly. "Inspired?"

Reaching over, you pressed a button on the side of his screen, which immediately closed off his face and opened up his home screen. An angry grumbling came from your phone again, and you couldn't help but laugh as you used his monitor to look up the nearest club. 

He swatted your hands away once you finished typing, and his face came back with a look of annoyance. 

"Listen, if you want to party so bad, I'll take you to a party! Best of the best, every celebrity you could ever-"

"That's sweet and all, but I mean a real party—an old club with a big dance floor and shitty drinks!" You stood up, holding your hands far apart as you expressed the size of the dancefloor. Vox only sat back, sinking into the couch. 

He looked up to the sky as you jokingly showed off some disco moves to exaggerate your point, though he stopped you when he held up a hand. 

"Well, if my baby wants to party, then party we will! But I get to pick the place." 

. . .

Only an hour later, the two of you were dressed and on your way. You argued that you didn't want to draw any attention, so he begrudgingly called a cab instead of his usual driver. 

"So! Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Not even a hint?"

Vox only shook his head, though he laughed at your interest. Hell had a fuckton of bars, most shittier than the rest, so he made sure to pick a place he had minor ties to, that way he could ensure your safety.

Not that he would tell you that. He knew you liked the authenticity of being a stranger to others, but you should have thought of that before you said 'I do' to hell's most known man. 

When you arrived, Vox could see the excitement creep onto your face upon seeing the club. It was run down, certainly, but it had a full parking lot and the music was blaring. 

He seemed quite proud of himself, knowing he'd done a good job, but he quickly straightened himself out and offered a hand to you. In no time, the muffled music turned into a rhythm your heart could beat too, surrounded by friends and couples dancing together. 

This was certainly old school—older than you expected—it was tacky, but it was perfect. Everyone's heels tapped on the waxed pine floor, which made every step louder than it seemed and filled the room with the drum of dozens dancing. 

It looked to be some kind of tropical theme, with fake palm trees along the walls and many colourful cocktails with pineapple wedges or mini umbrellas. 

All the chairs were wicker, along with the tables, though those had glass slabs on top of them to protect from the likely hundreds of spills this place saw per night. The seating surrounded the dance floor, most tables had a few people who would take turns on the dance floor. While you were interested in the warm-toned string lights hanging around the ceiling, Vox was interested in grabbing a drink. 

"For the lady, a rum punch...and I'll go for the blue Hawaii." There were almost too many options, but you couldn't go wrong with the classics. 

You were still distracted taking in the scene as he leant against the bar, glancing at you with a chuckle. He was sure he could have picked anywhere and you'd have been happy, but he liked to think he did a good job. 

"You know, this sorta scene really reminds me of my startup in hell." A drink in each hand, Vox let you take a sip of both before handing you the one you enjoyed more. As always, you stared at him when he drank, probably still weirded out by how a monitor drank. Vox chose to ignore it as per usual. 

When your gaze never left him, he figured he might as well continue. 

"Val and I have known each other a long, long time. He got into business before me, and you know his thing. He'd go to every nightclub in the city, trying to find people who'd hear him out." Vox stiffed a laugh, seemingly amused, thinking of Valentino's struggle to fame. 

"He needed a cameraman, and I was better than nothing. But cameramen were easy to hire, so quickly I was moved to handling the website, and you know the rest from there." He turned his monitor to the dancefloor, his now mostly empty drink placed on the table you were standing by. 

"Places like these were all the hype. We went from scouting in them to blowing our paychecks in them to owning them." In his peripherals, he saw you down the last of your drink, sitting it next to his and pumping your first in the air. 

"Here's to the past! And how much better it feels looking back on it than being in it." You dropped a lighthearted comment to pull him back to the present, grabbing his hand to drag him into the mingling hot bodies dancing as if they were going to die tomorrow. 

He had to duck and squeeze between everyone, seeing as you were far smaller and could get through easier. But eventually, you were in the centre of the dance floor, facing each other. 

"Are you sure it's okay to dance after chugging a drink?" 

"I can't hear you! Just dance dumbass!" He could hear you just fine, but he shrugged it off with a grin, seeing you bust out the same moves you had in your living room just a few hours ago. 

Only this time, he grabbed one of your hands and joined in. 

Song after song, you two were never further than a few inches from each other. While Vox focused on keeping you close to him, you were busy singing out the lyrics to songs he didn't even know you knew. He made sure everyone saw that you were all over him, and he was just the same back, to make sure there were no incidents with stupid demons thinking they could take you away from him. 

Even in the heat of dancing, Vox would always be jealous enough to worry about others looking at you. 

But those thoughts were easily distracted when you'd pull him in for a kiss or push up against him, asking him to do a move with you. 

A few drinks later and the night was a blur shaped vaguely like you, something that danced around his head until, eventually, he could remember that you both had work the next day and needed to leave. 

When you left the building, there were only a few cars left in the parking lot, the building having mostly cleared during the handful of hours you'd both spent there. 

Vox was holding you in his arms, bridal style, while you held loosely onto the heels you really shouldn't have worn. 

This time, he called for his driver and let you comfortably lay in the back with your head in his lap, his claws carefully tracing through your hair and scratching your scalp. He could tell you were half asleep, but still coming down from the high of the club. 

"Vox."

"Mhmm?"

"Thank you for taking me out," You paused as if you had something else to add, but when the pause continued for what felt like minutes, Vox realized you'd passed out on his lap. 

For once, his grin was nothing but a careful smile, his hand leaving your head to rub circles into your shoulder. 

"Thank you for reminding me what it felt like to be human."

Author's Note - This was SO HARD TO WRITE but not because of the story 😭I was so excited for this prompt, but I had a 7hr exam right before I started this, and then I finished it at 8 am after being awoken by the window cleaners PRESSURE WASHING MY WINDOW. Scared the hell outta me!

Anyways im rambling, tysm for requesting blue anon! I am so glad we have an indicator for you now 🖤

Word Count - 1,432

[booliuu]

★ Bloody painter headcanons!! ★

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : I did a pole couple of days ago and it looks like helen ( bloody painter ) has the most votes! dw though ^^ i’ll make sure to do hc’s for the other characters..it will take quite a bit of time for me to get all the characters done but ill try to post as frequent as i can. aside from that, i don’t have much to say except TvT anyways enjoy reading my favorite pookie.

➣ btw most of hc’s are based on his recent dating sim that recently came out ( you should totally check it out! it’s so so good..!!) and his updated wiki page! also added my personal takes on him as well … so yea if your wondering lol.

my inbox is open for asks & requests!! if you like my content don’t forget to like , comment , & reblog ❤️.

pictures i’m using: pinterest 💙

🩸. . . He’s known as the bloody painter in his crime documents but real his name is Helen Otis.

🩸. . . doesn’t like be called his first name he prefers Otis or bp.

🩸. . . he’s called bloody painter because when the police caught him and were searching his home for his crimes, they found many painting that contains his victims blood . ppl who’ve been missing hanged on the walls particularly blooding out, numerous human limbs scattered around his house that resembles sculptures in a way. <— (this all took place in 2003^^ after he left the psychiatric hospital ).

🩸. . . His birthday: October 1st , 1980 ( canonly he’s around his 40’s by now.. but i believe in the dating sim game he’s 26 ( i could be wrong ToT ) .

🩸. . . he goes by any pronouns. will straight up tell you he doesn’t care about which pronouns you addressed by. sticks with anything because he likes freedom and flexibility.

🩸. . . He’s a libra ♎️ .

🩸. . . korean and a quarter chinese. his parents are korean. both sides have chinese roots. ^^

🩸. . . Height: 178 cm ( 5 ‘ 10 i think) .

🩸. . . favorite color: blue💙.

🩸. . . his main catch phrase is : “ No need to excite yourself over tomorrow anymore… “

🩸. . . i’d say his build is lean but has hints of muscles on him. he’s VERY PALE since he stays indoors most of the time , unbrushed short black hair ( has a little curls ) , long thin hands from painting all day & to add to that his arms has some visible vains . lastly his gorgeous bright blue eyes that could honestly hypnotize anybody if your asking me .

🩸. . . it’s canon that he’s agender! which means he doesn’t identify himself with a specific gender.

🩸. . . this is just my personal hc of mine …. i think he’s pansexual, he really doesn’t gaf who he dates.

🩸. . . has sexual feelings but mostly reserved it , because it scares him to be close to anybody emotionally speaking… it’s hard for him to even think about a relationship with someone.

🩸. . . personality wise though, he’s awkward , shy , closed off ( not cute shy but he growing up he didn’t have the nicest people surrounding him so he has many walls builded up over the years. not to mention he lacks social skills and he’s not very good with his words… ) .

🩸. . . to add on to that he’s an introvert. polite mannerisms ; speaks when he wants to prefers to listen anyway. ( when he does speak he’s very soft spoken and his grammer is always on point!) he’s has calm and quiet exterior … but might i mention he has a REALLY bad rbf 😭.

🩸. . . his flaws are being that he’s very petty and selfish. has a very BIG ego and thinks he’s above people a lot of the time. however secretly lives for ppl’s praising his art work…

🩸. . . he’s very intelligent. knows endless knowledge about almost anything not just art.

🩸. . . be careful though! just because he keeps a calm composure doesn’t mean has a violent mind.

🩸. . . known to be the quiet artist in the mansion. but sometimes ppl will pick up a fight with him. he may look weak but he has some strength in him and knows how to use it. lets just say they take a quick visit to ej’s office from how brutal the fight was …

🩸. . . i think he’s also the type of person where he’s unintentionally funny. he could say something in a serious tone, and other creep’s will laugh or chuckle on how he phrases his sentences . he’s very confused af by it.

🩸. . . doesn’t care for the other ppl living in the mansion but very few creeps manage to become his friend or acquaintance. i’d say he don’t mind creeps such as ej , liu, toby , dina ( hc they never dated but rlly close friends! ) , nina , and puppeteer.

🩸. . . typically wears his usual blue suit jacket attached it’s has his signature smiley face pin , black shirt, black trousers and black dress shoes. from time to time wears black turtle neck ^^. he will which to more casual clothing but that happens once in a blue moon …

🩸. . . smells like cheap cologne. hiding the fact he’s dealing with dead b*odies all day.

🩸. . . he’s a clean freak. perhaps to get rid of evidence ... or just a habit from his childhood.

🩸. . . walks very slowly and silently. calculating each of his footsteps. almost like a cat you could say! like ppl dont know when he’s approaching and has spooked numerous residents in the mansion lmaoooo

🩸. . . Has a sweet tooth! absolutely loves chocolate or anything chocolate flavored. makes BOMB hot chocolate! ( Spoiliers of the dating sim if you haven’t played it yet! ) fun fact 🤯!! in the dating sim while he’s talking you, he’s sitting on the couch and there’s a beverage on the table near him , you thinks coffee but it’s actually hot cocoa ☕️🍫 .. c:

🩸. . . if he’s drinking coffee though , hates the bitter taste of it so he’s the type of person that will add TONS of sugar , syrup , milk/or creamer to hide the flavor. probably prefers lattes just bc it’s just milk.

🩸. . . didn’t have the greatest childhood. his parents were expecting a girl but it’s turns out to be a boy. kept his feminine name and dress him as one as well. during his school years they had to dress him more masculine because they didn’t want him to get bullied.

🩸. . . he has a great passion for arts at a young age but his parents were really against him from doing that so quite frankly forced him to participate in masculine activities for there own benefit. :(

➯ approaching heavier topics … mostly talking about his past . ( tw‼️ bullying, sh, and m*rder . )

🩸. . . heavily bullied because of his feminine name, he got really depressed. he didn’t have an outlet from his torment so he would (TW!) self harm. will come home pretty beaten up from his bullies, and his parents grown concerned yet he didn’t speak up about the harassment.

🩸. . . the bullying gotten pretty bad when he entered high school.

🩸. . . made just one friend from all the years of school . it was Tom. they were inseparable. pretty much talk every single day.

🩸. . . one day, tom put a girls watch in his bag. left and people suspected helen did it. of course helen was confused by this action because he doesn’t remember do that at all. nevertheless he gotten pretty beaten up from something he didn’t cause.

🩸. . . tom couldn’t stay silent forever obviously . so when helen approached him that day he gave in and admitted everything. this riled up helen pretty badly. it resulted into a argument. got really physical to the point tom fell from the school roof.

🩸. . . police didn’t to much about it since there wasn’t to much evidence to prove anything.

🩸. . . the bullying continued, hates to admit it but under all the hatred he felt at that time .. he’s secretly sadden over his best friend death. tom was the only person that understood him. now.. he’s alone again.

🩸. . . before a halloween party , he snapped tired from his classmates mistreating him. and a massive massacre took place at his school’s dormitory . arrested the morning after at his home .

🩸. . . the judge blamed it on “ poor mental heath” and send him to a psychiatric hospital.

🩸. . . stayed at a mental hospital for treatment for a long while. until he was released and had to find jobs to earn a living.

🩸. . . through out the time he was back in society , heavily resents his mother so much. as well as his father too, he pretty much not even there during his youth . basically absent . now that he’s an adult he detests being controlled and manipulated . probably has a huge inferiority complex too.

🩸. . . he learned his parents cut contact with him. and for the first time he felt… happy and free. being away from his parents mental shackles felt like breath of fresh air…

🩸. . . after his release he did k*lled and k*dnapped more people after that he left no traces and his whereabouts are a mystery. you could have guessed that slender took him in a matter of time…

🩸. . . has faded scars.. from his childhood.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

🩸. . . while he’s painting he listens to mostly classical music. but i think he’s pretty open to any kind of genre. he gives me nirvana , mitski , and radiohead type of vibe idk.

🩸. . . i feel like he owns a record player. likes having music in background while he’s painting. owns so manyyyy vinyls that are neatly stored in shelves.

🩸. . . Loves cats! pets them whenever he sees them.

🩸. . . in his youth he had a hand full of artist he looked up too.

🩸. . . mostly paints that consist of themes being harsh and disarranged. knows how to make it beautiful and eye catching though. from time to time he’ll create renaissance paintings. or portraits of various creeps in the mansion.

- “ there isn’t a perfect shade of red… except bl*od..” - helen otis

( not sure if i remember that from a previous fanart i saw or if he actually said that lol. )

🩸. . . his art inspiration perhaps came from underground artist that barely has attention. he really admires there work so much. tries to mimic there brush strokes or there style there going for. adores renaissance paintings as well.

🩸. . . god forbid he visits a art museum, if something catches his eye could get lost in his own thoughts for a long period of time. will stand there with arms behind his back and tilting his head up to admiring a painting from a artist long ago.

- until someone walks up to him and gently pokes his shoulder saying there about to close soon. -

🩸. . . or perhaps he’s been through so much trauma through out his life, it’s a coping mechanisms. turns c*rspes into sculptures , using there bl*od as paint . basically trying to show everyone what he’s been through without saying much.

🩸. . . doesn’t really like popular modern artist that much. keeps a lot of his opinions to himself, cause he knows his reasonings are quite harsh.

🩸. . . it’s not just paintings that he’s passionate about. but also hobbies such as sculpturing , reading and photography he takes part in.

🩸. . . keeps all his art works in his bedroom/art studio.

🩸. . . he’s really good at cooking! saves a lot of money to make gourmet dishes . will make something for you if he likes you, he a picky eater too.

🩸. . . that or … he forgets to eat because how hyper focused he is.

🩸. . . i have a feeling he’s really good with money and by that i mean he doesn’t spend willy nilly mostly saves them for important stuff. such as art supplies-

🩸. . . as much as he wants to hang out at the mansion. he hangs out sometimes at local parks, art stores or museums . this is after the police stop focusing on his case …

🩸. . . loves horror movies to the max . secretly every time he watches a film he takes note how the antagonist k*lls victims … perhaps will use them next time he stalks somebody.🤔

🩸. . . hangs out in his room/art studio majority of the time. he doesn’t care what’s happening in the mansion . there could be a massive fight somewhere and he wouldn’t budge from his stool . his main focus is his canvas duh. won’t think nothing of the commotion happening , will just continue working on art piece he yet to finish.

🩸. . . when he doesn’t ask people to look at his work or ask what there opinions are , hates with when people bother him. likes to left alone in his own space unless asked .

🩸. . . if they don’t go away he will push them away a few times , mumble under his breath he wants them away. his last straw is literally give them a death blank glare. his patience runs thin as you can tell …

🩸. . . his room i suppose is a organized mess :,D.

🩸. . . art supplies messy piled in corner. while the other spaces are occupied with already finished art work , wip’s, empty canvas, untouched sketchbooks, empty paint bottles scattered , expensive unopened art materials… ect .. ect.

🩸. . . hates harsh lighting from his large bedroom window so he covers it up with large beige blank tapestry. so candles and lamps will do.

🩸. . . loves candles scents such as floral ( rose , jasmine , stuff like that..) , chocolate, vanilla, citrus.

🩸. . . he loves tiramisu. this guy can finish it in one sitting .

𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜: @/ thecutestgrotto .

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : to be honest i’m so glad he got the most votes from the pole because 1# he’s like one my favorite pasta’s and i’m so glad he getting more attention now!! he’s such a underrated pasta😔. 2# i’ve been obsessed with silly guy since high school or even.. middle school idkkk☠️ it’s hard to keep track.

this man has been rattling in my head rent free ever since i got my hands on the dating sim game. played it until i got all of the endings😭. i want his merch so BAD but gurl is so broke . there’s even a petition for a bp doll…. guys plsss sign it i need the doll so bad bsfrrr .

btw next hc’s will be homicidal liu!

oh and also how could i forget —

yeah.

feedback is always welcome. if you like my content please don’t forget to like , reblog , and comment ^^.

liuuboo2025 ♡ﾟ

[imjustsocute]

Hey, just feeling like sending some 💙🧡💙🧡💙🧡💙(my Adler x Bell colors) from a fellow Adler Bell Shipper

you guys deserve it and always have a place in fandom no mattter what someone thinks

Thank youuu Rosie🥹💚🧡💚🧡

🧨💥 Adbell shipping rant? Don’t mind if I do.

So here’s the thing: I ship Adler and my Bell OC. Why? ‘Cause it’s fun. Yeah, I bend his canon personality. Yeah, I tweak him to fit my vibe. And guess what? I do not care.

You can throw shade, blacklist the tag, write angry threads—I’m still gonna draw. My fanart didn’t murder your family. I’m literally just vibing with pixels and imagination.

Let people ship things. Let people have fun. This is a video game, not a courtroom. And frankly, the way y’all cry and scream over someone drawing Adler being goofy with an OC? Hilarious. Adbell didn’t piss on your grandma’s grave. Calm down.

I’m not claiming canon. I’m not rewriting lore. I’m just making space for joy, chaos, and creativity in a world that’s already bleak enough. And if you hate it that much, maybe touch grass instead of attacking artists online.

Anyway, that’s that. People like what they like. You ship your thing, I ship mine. That’s your right. I’m not responsible for your feelings.

Long story short: 💣 I ship what I want. 🎨 I draw what I love. 🧠 I’m unhinged but respectful. 📌 You don’t like it? Scroll past.

Thanks for coming to this slightly unwell girl’s internet TED Talk.

(If you’ve got issues, my inbox is open. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer, though.)

[cookietails]

Heeeey! 👉👈

My name is CookieTails (She/Her) and I write fics on AO3!

❤️ Veteran VLD Lover 💙 Veteran Klance Shipper (2016, where y'all at) 💜 Domestic, Post-Canon, AUs, etc. 🍪 Open to questions about headcanons, etc. ☕️ Feel free to hit my inbox if you'd like to suggest a prompt!

I appreciate all the love and support I've received on AO3, and thus I've decided to make an account here to share my work.

Thank you for support my writing journey!

✨ Ao3 ✨ Twitter / X

FICS ♥︎ Ascension - Explicit ♥︎ Love Bites - Mature ♥︎ Currently, Us - T Rated ♥︎ Bed Chem (Summer Lovin') - Explicit ♥︎ Close To You (Moonlit Tides) - Explicit ♥︎ Interrupted Bonding Moments - Mature ♥︎ I've Got You, I Always Do - Explicit ♥︎ Asterism - Mature ♥︎ Lumen Aura - Explicit ♥︎ Sanctuary - Explicit

SERIES 🍯 Heaven & Earth

[finleyforevermore]

favourite colour? :D

My all-time favorite color is green, but blue is very close second!

Thank you for your ask, Anon! :D

[number-onekidqueen]

To all the women, people of colour and different cultures in America, I’m deeply sorry for the outcome of this election.

I’m not even American, and so I can’t begin to imagine the fear, pain, resentment, oppression and all other complex emotions you must be feeling. This is truly a horrible result, and I’m not going to lie and say I think this chapter of americas history will be good or easy.

All I can offer is my absolute empathy and the fact that my inbox is always open. Don’t take this out on yourself: you did the best you could, and are doing the best you can and so many others did too.

I know it’s not today, and I know it’s hard to hope, and it’s easy for me to say when I’m removed from this awful situation you’re facing. But one day, all the fighting you did and that you continue to do and that you will do will change something. It will.

And until then, however I can I’m here to support any of you and hope that you can stay strong however you can. I hope you’re feeling better or that you can soon.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

[aesthetspaghet]

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Here's a rainbow of pride furbies for you to enjoy!

Sorry for the formatting, it was the only way to get around the 10 image limit. If anyone wants to use a particular one for an icon etc shoot me a message and I'll send the individual image over!

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

If you're attending any events, please have fun and stay safe! To anybody struggling in light of recent events - you are seen, you are loved, you matter.

My inbox is always open to anybody in need of support, you are safe here. Much love to you all!

[opscuritas]

Mitu's 1.5 K DTIYS 🥳

Hello everyone! I'm so excited!!! 🎉🤭🤭 In celebration of my blog reaching 1.5K in here and 666 on Instagram, I wanted to invite everyone to participate in a fun DTIYS challenge, featuring my reverse!omens Raven and Father Anthony.

This is my way to say thank you to all of you, especially to my Ko-fi supporters and all the followers who leave funny/nice tags and comments, I always read them and they make my day! ❤️ 💙 💜 Go ahead and reblog so it can reach more people!

Rules, prizes, deadlines, and FAQ ⬇️

Rules:

To participate, you have to do your version of this drawing. The colors, clothes, style, etc, it's up to you! Just try to keep the same characters and a similar pose 😊

No tracing! It's okay to use the original as a pose reference, but it can't be a full-on trace. You must put in your unique style! It's a challenge, after all!

Once you've finished your art, post it on Tumblr or Instagram and make sure to mention me so I can see it! You can also use the tag #mituDTIYS

It can be digital, traditional art, photography, cosplay, literally any type of art is OK! 🎨 🖼

You don't have to be following me but it would be awesome for me if you do hehe 😜

Prizes:

There will be 2 winners, one I will pick out myself and the other one will be chosen at random

Each winner will have a free commission from me of up to 2 characters of their choice. I will contact the winners and private chat with them so they can tell me their requests. (I won't take any commissions with the following topics: furry, underage, non con, loli, mecha) >Click to see my art<

The winners will, of course, have a special shout-out in a separate post, and I will promote their socials! 📸 ⬆️ 🚦

Deadline:

All submissions are open now, and they'll close on April 20th at 12:00 AM (GMT+1)

The winners will be picked out and announced the next day 🙌

FAQ:

In case you want to do my characters exactly as they are I suggest you check out my Reverse!omens tag for reference!

That's it! If you have any questions feel free to ask me! My inbox is always open 📥

[soarelesiluna-ao3]

hiii i know you might have a lot of requests and i don’t know if you write for ziferblat but i would love to read a danya x reader fic 💖🫶 whatever you want!!

Yes I do write for Ziferblat - I had started out as a Lucio x Danya shipper (Still am btw!) and I'd be glad to write for Danya too!

Tbh, I've got a HUGE crush on him, he's so pretty and delicate and dramatic and a little ball of anxiety, and his features are so soft ugh, he reminds me a lot of Mikelangelo Loconte playing Mozart in Mozart L'Opera Rock (if you get the reference, you get a cookie!) 💙

Let's do this!

Content under the cut!

(Ps. I'm tackling my requests on random order! I have 22 in the inbox rn so if I don't get to yours yet, please be patient - there's more Lucio content coming in these days too and a bit more of Kaj as well!)

The Grand Final is tomorrow. Those are the thoughts inside your head right now. And you were here in Basel, ready to support Ziferblat with all you had. You had been with them in all steps of the way, from Vidbir to Eurovision, and now it was time for them to shine the brightest ever.

You walk back into the hotel room. The cool breeze of Basel enters through the open balcony for a moment before you close it. And you see Danya sitting up in the bed, absent-mindedly listening to a 70s rock Playlist that was playing on a Bluetooth speaker.

You can tell there's so much going on inside his head. Slowly, you sit beside him and place a hand on his forearm. He seems to acknowledge your presence, turning his head to look at you with a small smile.

"Good evening", he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Have you thought about dinner? Room service is due to end in an hour or so", this is the ultimate sign that Daniil isn't really here, he starts talking of random things. "It doesn't matter much."

You take a moment to just be there with him. He sings a line or two from the song playing in that moment. After a while, you choose to rip the band-aid off and just ask the question in your mind - is he ready for tomorrow's Grand Final? He seems to ponder for a bit.

He's so right. You end up leaning his head over his shoulder. You say that it doesn't matter what they say (and anyway, reading the comments on the internet and hoping to be okay is like touching fire with your bare hands hoping not to get burned), and that what matters is their raw effort. The very thing that got them so far.

"I'm feeling... A lot. You see me so stable and cool right now but believe me, inside of me there are a thousand little Danyas running around with burning documents. Like that SpongeBob meme", you can't help but laugh a bit. "Valya and I have seen the comments. We know people think they know so much better than us about our situation and how they view our participation. But you know? They're speaking out of ignorance. And as much as it hurts or angers, you can't do much about it. So, there's no point in being angry."

"I'm very aware of that", he raises his head with pride and nods. "And you know? It's me who's on stage anyway, not them. I've already won just because of that. I'm gonna make my people proud. Because that's what matters the most to me..."

A pause.

"But hey, do you think Lucio will be watching us before he goes on stage?" His eyes shine a little. "I really hope he does. He's such a cool guy, I swear, you have to meet him if you haven't already..."

You laugh a little at these words. This is the Danya you love to see, so relaxed, happy and casual. The boy who listens to rock and likes vintage fashion. A bohemian poet trapped in a modern Ukrainian body. He's beautiful, in all his phases, but this one, you like the best.

You kiss his cheek and hug him by the waist, and you can feel his hand running along your back, before he leans down to kiss the top of your head.

"Hey. I love you so much, by the way. I mean it. Thank you for always being there."

And you know you'll always be.