#the way he questions whether or not he deserves it because he still wakes up and sees blood on his hands

[suguwu]

diluc + a gentle touch feeling like violence after he returns to mond

[lazythinking]

Smut aside… The idea of two friends finally fucking is actually so fraught. Say it’s you and Patrick, and being a girl around Patrick was always going to be hard; but the years go on and it gets harder and harder to tell whether or not his flirting is simply a friendly, slightly cruel joke, a bit between two best friends that has gone on for maybe too long. Very early on in the friendship, you put your foot down and told him straight up that you were not that kind of girl and you would ever fuck a friend. Never ever. He just shrugged it off and cackled boyishly, dismissing your concerns and saying he’s only fucking with you.

But now it’s fucking with him too. The years go on, you’ve settled into a comfortable job and living situation and his… future has not really gone to plan. When Patrick’s tired of sleeping over at whichever hookup he’s found for himself that night’s place, he takes shelter in your home, sleeping comfortably in your familiar futon, soothed to slumber by the familiar smell of your sheets. You’ve always been so kind to him, even though he definitely doesn’t deserve it. Not at all, not even a little bit.

Art and Tashi are, if not long gone now, quite unattached to the two of you beyond the occasional bumping into each other at the grocery store. They’ve left him behind is the point. So why did you stay? Why do you let him sprawl himself on the couch, your legs laying in his lap as you watch the TV, pretending not to be hurt too when he makes some awful half-joke about how he’s fucked up his life? Patrick knows this is true because you clutch his face when you’re drunk and look at him with this sad frown that makes his stomach churn. “It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy,” you tell him. “You keep saying that shit… and you’ll buy into it. So don’t.”

It fucking kills him. Recently he’s started to think a lot more about all this when he’s driving on the road; he’s beginning to gain a little perspective. There’s a name for that stomach-churning feeling, Patrick realises, but he wouldn’t dare to even say it in his mind. It’s not right. Someone like him should never even be seen with someone like you, a goody-two-shoes his family would love. So yes—when he’s fallen back into that comfortable habit of flirting with you… It kills him, too. Just like it’s always killed you. And there you go, breaking the only rule you had, the one thing you set down before you even became friends…

Patrick wakes up not on your futon, but in your real bed. Now he’s awfully sober and his life is fucking flashing before his eyes. Has he just ruined the one thing he had going for him? The sex was good, he thinks to himself, but not enough to justify this. (Really, it wasn’t just good, it was the best sex of his life, but why admit that?)

But then you throw your arm around him, soft skin brushing against his bare chest as your little fingers find their way up to clutch his jaw. You grumble softly, half-asleep and yet reaching out for him so tenderly. The question is inescapable and it remains present in his head like a giant blinking neon sign: are we still friends? Or are we… Patrick finds himself unable to say a word, rendered silent by your little gesture. He just leans into your touch. Slowly, he closes his eyes again. He doesn’t see it coming when you press a soft kiss onto his cheek, plush lips against his rough stubble. But God, he doesn’t mind it at all.

[xileonaaaa]

Hii I loved the way you characterised Choso in ur last fic. Mind doing husband headcannons? Or nsfw headcannons if you allow it? 💖 thank you 💖💖

Hiiii, I would love to! Thank you for being my very first ask 💕. Instead of him starting off as your husband, I went with the longer approach. Hope you enjoy!

Thinking of Husband!Choso

He’s still his same old self, but now he has that much needed confidence boost, because you are his, and he is yours.

•────────•°•❀•°•─────────•

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

Hubby!Choso who didn’t even know that he would soon take on the role of being your husband.

Hubby!Choso who acted like your husband before he even got the official title. He’d do things for you that most normal boyfriends just wouldn’t do on an everyday basis. For example, waking up at the crack of dawn every morning just to make you breakfast, or coming home early just so he could cook your favorite meal for you. (It’s not like he did those things only on special occasions, no he did them every. single. day.)

Hubby!Choso who literally looked at you sideways when you told him that he might as well just become your husband after breakfast one morning. (He didn’t quite understand your logic, because to him, he was treating you the best he could, because he knew you deserved nothing but the best.)

Hubby!Choso who couldn’t seem to shake the thought of what marriage to you would be like. (He often thought about how you’d look walking down that aisle, with your beautiful dress flowing behind you, as you smiled at him, while he tried his best to hold back tears of joy.)

Hubby!Choso who wondered if he was really worthy of being by your side indefinitely. A half human such as himself?

Hubby!Choso who let his thoughts continue to fester, till the point where he began to literally see signs everywhere he went. For example, nightly trips to the grocery store while you were still at the school, suddenly turned into a sea of married couples, swooning over each other, and flashing their matching rings. Some couples even had children in the front sections of their carts, and Choso couldn’t help but wonder what that would be like to experience.

Hubby!Choso who realized that marriage life wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. He found that right as he was about to make his decision on whether or not to propose to you, he started seeing the more sour side of marriage. Affairs behind the partners back, relationships just somehow burning out, fights, you name it, and he’d most definitely seen it somewhere.

Hubby!Choso who laid off the idea of proposing for a while. He wasn’t sure if he was being selfish for wanting more from you, for wanting to call you his wife. (The thought of you being referred to as ‘his wife’ made him go out one evening to purchase a ring, because why not? He could just call you his wife in his head, because it wasn’t like he was going to slip that ring onto your pretty finger any time soon right?….right???) Wrong.

Hubby!Choso who then began to see this warm aura surrounding you, quite literally making you glow, and shine in every little thing you did. Sometimes, your little glow would be so mesmerizing, he’d stop whatever it was he was doing to just quietly stare at you. It was times like these he’d slip a hand into his pocket, and twirl the ring he’d bought for you, around in his fingers.

Hubby!Choso who spent alot of time thinking, and planning about seriously proposing to you. (His little fantasy wasn’t exactly doing it for him anymore.)

Hubby!Choso who spent so much time thinking, that he didn’t even notice he was causing you to worry, until you spoke up one night, after dinner.

Hubby!Choso who felt his eyes widen as you poured your heart out him, questioning him on his very odd, and standoffish behavior. He didn’t think he was acting any differently. (He was.)

Hubby!Choso who couldn’t help but try to explain himself without giving away the fact that he was seriously going to propose to you very soon.

Hubby!Choso who started going in circles, ranging from one excuse to another. He couldn’t lie to you, he just physically couldn’t. So when he saw your expression starting to turn into that of hurt, he took a deep breath and got down on one knee. (He wanted his proposal to be more extravagant but as unplanned, and unorganized as this was, he genuinely couldn’t wait to call you his anymore.)

Hubby!Choso who noticed the very abrupt change in your facial expression the minute he took a delicate hold of your right hand, massaging your fingers with his own while he gently smiled up at you.

Hubby!Choso who proceeded to explain the reason behind his very strange behavior, and how your one sentence about marriage had led him down a rabbit hole.

Hubby!Choso who had watched over a dozen marriage proposal videos, still found himself fumbling for the right words.

Hubby!Choso who couldn’t help but feel his stomach twist and turn into knots as he told you in the softest voice he could muster, just how good, and comfortable you made him feel.

Hubby!Choso who never once looked away from your gaze when he asked you if you would marry him. He found himself smiling ever so softly as he listened to your excited squeals of happiness, as you enthusiastically nodded your head yes.

Hubby!Choso who slipped his free hand into his pocket to pull out the beautiful pink ring that he’d held onto for past two months, before easing it onto your ring finger. He was so happy, he could’ve died and went to heaven right there and then.

Hubby!Choso who would’ve panicked had you not assured him that those were happy tears trailing down your cheeks. Regardless, he still stood up, and took the initiative to kiss away those tears, before pulling you into a loving hug, somehow hoping that you wouldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating against his rib cage.

NSFW:

Hubby!Choso who loved to listen you ramble about wedding preparations. He began to notice that if you ever had to leave a name for a company to call you back, you'd call yourself "Mr.s Kamo." and boy did that serve to rile him up.

Hubby!Choso who just couldn't seem to keep his lips off of yours. His self control seemingly leaving his body whenever he saw your form emerge from the bedroom wearing nothing but one of his shirts, and your wedding ring.

Hubby!Choso who was nothing like your previous partners, who were always impatient and rough with you, he was unbearibly soft in bed. Once he'd gotten the hang of all of your weak spots, he made sure you felt like you were on cloud 9, without serving to bruise your guts. It was a win-win honestly, he could watch you come undone underneath him, over and over and over again, all while cherishing your body as much as he wanted to.

Hubby!Choso who used to be an avid condom user, nowadays plunged in raw, always wanting to feel your warm walls clenching around him while he fucked you into your shared matress.

Hubby!Choso who was, and still is the absolute king of aftercare. You'd always try your hardest to keep your eyes open while he cleaned you up, just so you could tease him about the time he literally called 911 because he'd fucked you so good, you'd fallen asleep. (He thought he put you in a coma.)

Hubby!Choso who never shyed away from the opportunity to tell you all the cheesy compliments that his brain would come up with, while he cockwarmed inside you.

Hubby!Choso who never really gave you any hickeys unless you asked for them. The last thing he wanted was you experiencing any discomfort from them, or worse case scenario, you coming home saying that one of your students pointed it out. He loves when you mark him up though.

Hubby!Choso who is definietly open to having kids. He often thinks of names when the two of your are winding down for the night, tangled in each others legs, with his face buried in your plush chest.

Hubby!Choso who thinks that this is the closest to heaven he'll ever get.

Hubby!Choso who loves his wife with all of his cursed heart.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

So I’m mostly curious about this for Muriel’s sake (he’s my favorite) but I have an HC request for if the M6, whether through a dream or magic, got to talk with their past selves from the darkest point in their lives, what would they say? Try to comfort/cheer themselves up? Assuming everyone got their Upright endings.

The Arcana HCs: M6 talking to their past selves

~ this is such an interesting one, @httyd-chocolate! thank you for the request, I hope you like what I do with it! (for hc purposes, this occurs as a magical dream where past and present selves interact) - brainrot ~

Julian

The dream is so vivid that he doesn't realize what it is until it's over

But right now, he's staring down at this gangly, scared, insecure almost-teenager, and every heroic bone in his body is telling him that this boy deserves all the safety and support in the world

It's weird to hear his young self saying the same deprecating things that he still does, but the jokes that normally make him laugh don't sound funny at all coming from a kid

And before he knows it, all the words he's heard you and Portia and Mazelinka say to him are spilling out of his mouth

"You're not alone. People are fortunate to be around you. You only drag everyone around you down when you refuse to let them lift you up. Sticking around to see the future is worth it."

At the same time, seeing himself in that kid's eyes is world-altering

Because to that younger self, the man he is now is smart, and heroic, and important, and somebody worth growing up to be

They stroll down to the seaside, at one point, as Julian listens to tiny Ilya's frustrations with his sister, and himself, and not knowing who he is or what comes next besides a call away from home

"You're pretty cool, mister," Ilya says at one point, "who are you?"

"I'm you," Julian says, and the look of hope and surprised delight he sees on Ilya's face makes him wake up with tears in his eyes

Asra

They know where they are as soon as the back alleys of the South End swim into view. They don't expect to see themself though

He's caught glimpses of the past once or twice, with you by his side, but those were moments of a childhood of wonder and escape. The kid in front of him hasn't found that magic yet

Little Asra is hiding in a corner behind a trash heap, clutching their lost mother's shawl and trying to hide the sniffles that shake their thin shoulders. Though all that disappears when they spot Big Asra

Suddenly, he's being scrutinized with the most curious gaze, and there's no hiding who he is. So he joins hands with him and starts wandering around, paying for lots of street food along the way

They'd forgotten how many questions they used to ask people

Until one hits him out of nowhere: "what's it like for us now?"

They don't want to leave that scared, lonely kid without something to look forward to, so they play with the dream a bit and lead Little Asra to a familiar magic shop a few streets away from the town square

In the dream, you're dozing by the fire, tea and snacks waiting on the table, and Big Asra watches his child self gaze at you in awe and remember what home feels like

It's sobering, to lead that child back to the docks and tuck them in to sleep under the pier, but it's a glimpse of warmth they're glad they got to share

Nadia

She has a suspicion of what's going on when she opens her eyes in her childhood bedroom, and that suspicion is confirmed when her 14-year-old self storms in and slams the door shut

She's ready to provide a haven. A listening ear. Ready to tell the young woman in front of her that she's right, that she's ready for more, that being held back and dismissed like this really isn't fair

Until the 14-year-old opens her mouth and starts to unload her day

For the first time in years, Nadia's not sure what to say. Does she want to tell this young woman that she's right, her parents and older sisters are being overprotective and unreasonable? Yes!

But does she find herself agreeing that a 14-year-old should not be allowed to go off to the battlefield her older sibling is serving as a medic on to lead the army to victory herself? ... yes ...

Does the embarrassed, hurting, angry teen in front of her need to know that? Absolutely not. So Nadia listens and nods instead

There are other things she sees that she realizes she remembers correctly. The fear of not measuring up. The frustration of having to wait to meet the milestones her siblings have already passed

So she tells this precocious, prickly young woman what you've been seeing in her all along: she is strong. She is smart. She is someone worth having faith in, and she doesn't need to be afraid

Muriel

He doesn't have to think twice. As soon as he sees that big, bony lad that was himself in his early twenties, huddled in a cell under the Coliseum after his first fight, he's breaking him out of there

He starts to wonder if this is a dream, when the iron bars give way under his grasp, but he's focusing on wrapping his cloak around those shivering shoulders and leading him out of the city

He's forgotten how scrawny he'd been before he bulked up on the meals provided for Lucio's prized fighter, and seeing spatters of his first opponent's blood on such a boyish face breaks his heart

They're both silent on the way through the woods. The younger him is still in shock, and the older him isn't sure what to do next

When the reach the clearing, the hut is more like what older him is used to. He helps young Muriel into the outside bath and begins putting together a hearty stew for the two of them to share

They both stay quiet. Older him watches every flinch and start and quiet pause of happiness and safety and keeps realizing that he deserves better. He deserves good things. I want him to have that.

They both turn bright red when younger him notices that the bed has two pillows on it, but they both know that that's a good thing

When the time comes for them to wake up, Muriel wraps that kid up in his arms. "... it gets better. Promise. You deserve it."

Portia

This is trippy, but after what she's been through with you, Portia guesses this is just par for the course. Why is she in Nevivon?

Her question is answered when a nine-year-old girl comes careening around the corner, fiery curls flying, just in time to collide with her and go sprawling in the dust by the road

Oh, Portia thinks, I remember being like this. I remember her.

Portia watches Pasha pick herself up, lower lip trembling with rage and eyes full of tears, getting ready to lash out at whoever just ripped her dress and made her day go from awful to terrible

And she pulls that little girl into the tightest hug she can manage

Once Pasha's made good use of the handkerchief she's been handed, she takes Portia's hand and shows her around town

She tells Portia all about her life right now. About the grandmas who take care of her, and the parents she doesn't remember

And she talks and talks and talks about her amazing older brother, the last family she has, who left several months ago to explore the world and find adventure and save people - without her

Portia listens and comments, but she keeps getting distracted looking at the strong, clear-eyed, purposeful little girl next to her

So she spends the rest of her visit telling that kid that she's strong, she's interesting, she's exciting, and she is so, so very important, even when it's just her

Lucio

He's back in the frozen woods. He doesn't like the frozen woods

And neither, apparently, does the six year old boy across from him

At first he's just concerned. Why is a small child alone in the freezing cold? He needs to help them get safe and warm

Then he recognizes the golden head of hair, and the big, silver eyes staring up at him, and the nose red from cold, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from yelling as he starts a fire and asks for a name

He likes having a different name, he realizes, when he gets to introduce himself as Lucio the Adventurer to little Montag

Montag, he learns, is alone on a quest to hunt down a bear per his mother's instructions, but he's cold and hungry and frightened

To Montag, Lucio is a hero. He's big and strong and has a cool arm and builds a fire to keep him warm and listens to him talk about how he wants to be a leader when he grows up, without scoffing at his dreams

So the two of them huddle together by the fire under one of the trees, sharing a cloak and talking about who they are

Lucio hears the beginnings of his downfall already in Montag's stories about growing up stronger than everyone so the people in his family and his tribe will have no choice but to praise him

And Montag hears humility and hope from Lucio, about the importance of recognizing mistakes and learning to love and be loved

[vvxgs]

°˖✧˚ WARNINGS: light angst. ˚✧˖°

"I'm calling you for the twentieth time!", Charles shouted as soon as he spotted his teammate. "Where have you been?"

"Doesn't matter. What happened?"

"Y/N was here about an hour ago."

"What?", the Spaniard inquired.

"I was surprised too. She seemed off, but left something for you. A letter."

That's when he realized that the fuse had been lit. Y/N was the spark leading to his ignition. Now it was a matter of whether the Spaniard could prevent the disaster from happening in time.

When his fingers touched the paper, he knew what he was about to read would irreversibly change his life. For a brief moment, he even had the urge to tear the envelope into pieces and deny himself the chance of knowing its contents.

Dear Carlos, Is this how I should start this letter? I have no idea. The last letter I wrote was about seven years ago. I addressed it to Santa Claus. But I figured you deserve more than two sentences, more than just a regular text or email.

My plane has probably already taken off, so stay where you are. Don't throw everything away trying to catch me. It's too late for that.

Maybe I'm acting selfish, giving only one of us a chance to explain, but I'm sure that whatever would come out of your mouth wouldn't change anything.

I'm learning not to dwell on our parting. I'm learning the way one learns to walk. I might stumble a few times, but then you won't even notice, and I'll cover that distance with a run.

We're too different. If I decided to stay and try, it wouldn't be healthy. This poison spreads too fast. It's unstoppable. And the antidote? It doesn't exist.

Someone once said that life is like a puzzle. The picture can be complete and perfect when all the pieces are in place. Why do we try to force a piece into a space when it doesn't fit? Don't look for me. Don't try to force me back into your life.

I understand you want to explain a lot to me, but keep it to yourself. It's the only way I won't start hating you.

Goodbye Carlos."

Carlos stood still. His muscles were relaxed, his head slightly lowered. The Spaniard was one of the indestructible. Of course, someone had chipped away at his fortress a few times, but never enough to make his castle crumble. The foundations were strong enough that despite many attacks, his body didn't resemble ruins. But that day, everything indicated that Carlos Sainz had given up.

He stood like that for a while. The letter and the white envelope slipped from his fingers, and he watched as the white sheets turned gray from the still-wet soil.

Finally, he twitched. He turned around and started walking toward the garage, not even glancing at his teammate standing there. But Charles observed him very closely.

His face was stone-like, hot and salty drops flowing down his face, leaving a trail of sorrow in their wake.

"Where are you going?", Charles finally managed to utter a question as Sainz was about to pass him.

He put his hand in his pocket, pulled something out, and moments later released pieces of paper from his hand, immediately snatched by the wind.

Sainz heard the sounds of engines. He looked up. Among the clouds, a plane soared, leaving behind a white trail.

"To hell,", Carlos exclaimed, still walking in the chosen direction, his pace quickening. "Because without her, there's no heaven."

[bubbipond]

OK but why am I seeing on Twitter and Tumblr people saying that Tonkla did not love Korn as much as Korn loved him?? Did we watch the same show? Let’s not act like Korn was boyfriend of the year. Tonkla didn’t just wake up one morning and decided to be a murderer. He also didn’t force Korn to also cheat on him??? Korn was choosing his family and the life he lived his whole life over love the entire time. You can argue that love wasn’t more important than revenge to Kla but you can’t argue that he didn’t love and care about Korn or vice versa.

He literally took a bullet for him. He did not have to do that. He knew his time was running out. You don’t do things that Tonkla did in this show and expect to live happily ever after. In my opinion, they had the most realistic end to a dark series. You can love someone and want to be with them, but fate not be in your corner. They were both in retrospect too deep into their individual lives to not die and I find that extremely heartbreaking. To be honest if two people deserve a happy ending it was probably them because their issues were not entirely made by them. Their situations were directly influenced by other people (technically so was Greats but he ended up happy so).

But I feel like deducing everything between Korn and Kla to just a revenge plot is a lack of critical thinking. I know that’s a buzz word and I’m not just saying that because throughout the airing of the series I have been like, “I support Kla’s wrongs and his rights”. But instead, I am saying this because he and Korn are not their actions. They are who they are because of other peoples actions. Kla couldn’t move on with his life after his brother died because there was no justice. He definitely needed therapy and he should not have been going around murdering people or attempting to. But that was a direct Issue stemming from his brother’s death. Korn didn’t want to be the head of the family. He didn’t want to be a crappy brother or a crappy boyfriend. He didn’t want to marry that girl whose name escapes me.

And at the end of it, they were both willing to look at each other and be like you know what!? We are Thelma and Louise, we are Bonnie and Clyde. In the most tragic ways possible. I think that’s the reason they kind of stole the last episode. All of their shit was out there. Neither one of them were cowards and neither one of them were good people. Maybe they were at one time but life and the choices they made changed that. I think their end was perfect because they both succeeded and failed at their motives at the end of the day. Neither one was where they were in the beginning at the end of it all.

Marrying that woman wasn’t going to miraculously make Korns life easier. In the end, she cut her losses anyway. The marriage didn’t help her at that point. So where did he have to go? The revelation that Kla was the one to shoot Great and that Great was part of his brother’s murder didn’t diminish how they felt about each other. It just complicated everything. Attempting to murder the people responsible for his brother’s death didn’t bring Kla solace. It didn’t bring his brother back and if anything it just made life shittier. At the end of the day, there was no out for either of them. They would both still have to pay for things they did and did not do. So even though their story ended, they still had a better ending. They still love each other despite the tough situation they were in.

My favorite part of that last scene is Bas’ facial expressions when he hears everything from Kla. He’s not heartbroken, or angry, he’s not bewildered, Or jealous. He’s all of the above and you can see it written on his face so perfectly. Bas really knows how to show emotion on his face and I love him for that; especially the mix of feelings between the revelation and him pointing that gun. He wasn’t questioning whether or not Kla loved him because what did Kla have to gain from keeping him around at the point of him running? This man was exhausted. He was tired of everything and everyone he was tired of the cards that they all have been dealt up until that point. He knew pointing that gun was a bad idea. But their backs were against the wall and there was nothing left to lose. Until there was. He had to watch the love of his life take a bullet for him. So I will not sit here and let people act like Kla was this master manipulator who only wanted revenge.

Because the saddest part about all of this is, it was just a very unfortunate circumstance that intertwined Great and Dome.

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Maid To Be Yours

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Summary: Maid-Sama meets Touya Todoroki because that fucker would die to see you in a maid outfit. (Part 2)

Warnings: Smut, slight public-sex, language, vaginal fingering, the title tbh, Dabi too he gets his own warning

Word Count: 2.7k

“Behind,” you muttered, slipping past the chef and into the main seating area.

The room was abuzz with soft music and the smell of nostalgia. Girls in a similar uniform to yours were presenting some steaming dish or cheerfully chatting with their customers.

Your own, a pair of teenage boys who were probably just here for a cheap look at the servers, were laughing heartily about something unimportant as you walked over.

As long as they tipped well, you didn’t really care.

With a polite smile, you passed them their checks. “Thank you so much for dining with us. Please come again!”

And with a small bow, you were gone, weaving around the tables toward the quiet sanctuary that the locker room provided.

It was fairly busy for a Wednesday night, which meant more money, but also meant more people to deal with.

The constant activity of a full house made it difficult to not become overwhelmed. And while you dealt with an overload of alarming tasks on a daily basis, it did become tiring after a while.

Your mind felt drained from the constant employment of a likable persona, your limbs heavy under the weight of fatigue from hours of carrying over-sized drinks.

Thankfully, the flow of customers had finally begun to trickle to a slow, allowing you the sweet relief of a well deserved break. The charming guise cracked as you slumped over a bench, allowing a weary sigh to slip through the fracture.

“You okay?”

“Hm?” You looked up, meeting eyes with your manager. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Just a bit tired, I guess.”

It had been quite the night, keeping you out well over two in the morning. Unfortunately, your last minute decision to take some overtime had you waking up a mere six hours later.

In hindsight, a horrible choice.

Flashing a grin, she shot you a thumbs up. “Well, you’re doing great! Thanks again for picking up all these extra shifts.”

Your manager was a kind woman, although you silently wondered whether or not the enjoyment she found in this line of work was exactly warranted. Regardless, she was lenient and in no way condescending, a trait you had seen in many of the other bosses you’d had the pleasure of working under.

She took a step into her office, pausing for a moment in thought before turning back in your direction. "Actually, I know you're about to go on break in a few minutes. Would you mind tossing the trash out real quick?"

"Sure, no problem."

"Ugh, you're amazing," She gushed. "Remind me to tell you about the new hire tomorrow, yeah?"

Another thing about your manager was that she was, for want of a better term, very communicative.

Seeing as you and the other waitresses were relatively close in age to her, she seemed to show great interest in your personal lives, which resulted in a good amount of friendly gossip among your coworkers.

This also produced some unwanted questions and comments. She thoroughly enjoyed the standard 'you're too pretty to be single,' or a good old petition to set you up with a friend or neighbor.

Thankfully, you were quick to come up with excuses or some other lie that would quell her curiosity until it was placed upon some other unsuspecting victim.

However, you wondered what she would say if she caught wind of those hidden aspects of your life.

Of course, it wasn’t as if she would actually come close to finding out about any of them.

No one would ever guess a member of the infamous League of Villains would be working as a waitress in a maid cafe.

Being a criminal didn’t pay the bills. It gave you a place to stay, even when if that place was a small room a few floors above a musty bar, but it didn’t give much leeway financially. There were still other utilities and items that required money, hence your need to find another job.

Obviously, this hasn’t been your first choice.

Public service was not for the faint of heart, even for someone who associated with killers and other psychotic individuals on the regular. Not to mention the dress code, which had you rethinking your life choices upon inspection.

Regardless, the pay was a lot better than many deserving workers in the restaurant industry received and the hours were flexible, a necessary benefit for someone like you.

The cafe was also fairly far away from both the League’s hideout and your own living area, giving you peace of mind that no one would ever find out about your embarrassing side-gig.

Another thing you had come to find about workers as a criminal was that a lot of your colleagues were assholes. This wasn't surprising, seeing as they killed people on the regular, but it definitely gave you ample reason to keep your personal life private, even if a particular blonde teenager vehemently voiced her disapproval of your attempted reservedness.

That was a can of beans you had no intentions of opening.

You tied the top of the trash bag, hauling it over your shoulder and nudging the back door open with your knee. It opened into an alleyway, secluded from the busy streets and surprisingly clean.

The dumpster lifted open with a creak. It threatened to fall closed, but you propped it up with the bottom of your palm, slipping the bag through and taking a quiet exhale of victory.

"No fucking way."

Tensing at the unforeseen voice, you spun around with your hands up and ready for any trouble. Your heart slowed slightly upon recognizing the familiar face, only to pick up a moment later in panic.

Out of everyone in the League, Dabi was most definitely the last person you wanted finding out about this. His cocky attitude and overall lack of empathy for those around him had you extra weary about what you let slide concerning your personal life.

The fact that you had taken a slight attraction to the man also might have been of influence.

Exactly why, you weren't sure, especially since he had seemed to have recently found entertainment in the pastime of getting under your skin.

Maybe you were just a masochist.

You fumbled in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up, but the damage had already been done.

His surprised expression brightened considerably as he watched a plethora of emotions wash over you in sick glee. "So, this is your other job?"

"What are you doing here?" You avoided his question, tugging on the ruffles of your skirt and internally cringing when the fabric barely covered the highest part of your thigh.

Crossing his arms, Dabi leaned back on the brick. "There was a situation on fifth. The police should be here in twenty minutes, so I would watch out for that."

You sighed in annoyance, but the cops were honestly the least of your worries right now. "Shouldn't you... ya know, get out of here then?"

"Eh, later. I'm enjoying this." He shrugged, almost like an arrest paled in comparison to his new discovery.

Dabi pushed off the wall and began walking over to you. With every step forward, you took one back, avoiding his advance until your own shoulders hit the building behind you.

Turquoise eyes unabashedly scanned your frame and you unintentionally shifted under the strength of his gaze. He must have noticed, a tip of smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. "Who knew you were so cute?"

Blinking back in surprise, you shot him a glare that only made him laugh. "Don't call me that."

"Aww, is someone getting shy?"

"Pissed off, maybe," you muttered, trying to push past him and back inside the cafe, any place where you could sit and steep in your embarrassment alone.

Unfortunately, Dabi wasn't having it. He slipped an arm around yours, pulling you back around to face him.

"Oh, come on, doll." He tapped your nose with his finger, having it smacked away a moment later. "I think flustered is a great look on you. Do a little twirl for me, yeah?"

"I will kick your teeth out."

He gasped, the sound brimming in false hurt. "So harsh. Didn't you take this job for a chance to be nice to people? But if it was for the dress, I wouldn't judge either."

You rolled your eyes. "Obviously not, asshole. Shigaraki doesn't pay my bills."

"You know I have money, right?"

"And you'd be so generous to share?" You scoffed.

"In that little number," he cocked his head, a wicked grin flashing over his expression. "I'm sure we could work something out."

Heat bloomed up your neck at his insinuation, another insult getting caught in your throat.

Raising a hand to your temple, you let out an exasperated sigh in a meager attempt to regain your verbal footing. You had just about calmed down when you heard the shutter of a camera.

Your eyes shot up, heart dropping when you saw the phone in his hand pointing in your direction. "What are you doing?"

"Insurance policy." He inspected the photo for a moment. "There's no way anyone's gonna believe this without something some sort of proof."

"Dabi."

"Yeah, sweetheart?" His eyes flashed up to yours, faux innocence washing over his features at the anger evident in yours. "Oh, did you want this?"

Your fingernails bit into the palms of your hands, leaving tiny crescents behind that were evident of your vexation.

He loomed over you, eyes gleaming in sinful amusement. "You're gonna have to ask nicely then."

"Fuck you."

"Darn. Ya know, that's not the answer I was looking for." He swiveled on his heels, giving you an unbothered wave with his free arm. "See you later, doll."

You lunged forward, but he was quicker, not to mention taller.

With a surprising reaction time, he dodged your advance, lifting the phone until it was suspended just a few feet above your head. Every time you made a grab for it, he would straighten up just a few inches, making sure that the device was always centimeters from your grasp.

"Just give it!"

Dabi took hold of your elbow and pulled. You fell forward with a yelp, surprised at how easily he maneuvered your body against the wall. With your back pushing into the brick and his arms caging you in on both sides, there was nothing to do but succumb to his hold.

"You're telling me what to do?" The laugh he let out shot heat straight between your legs. "Sorry, doll, but I don't think you're not the one supposed to be giving orders here."

It was almost alarming how easily he was able to over power you, even more so how you barely even minded. Every suggestive sentence permeated your train of thought, thwarting any attempts you might have once had at preserving your pride.

His hands snaked down to your waist as he leaned forward, breath tickling the tip of your ear. "Now, I wanna hear it in that pretty, little customer service voice how much you want to keep this between us."

The movement sent a shiver down your spine. It was obvious that Dabi was an intimidating individual, but never like this. His presence was overpowering, the mocking tone of his voice a mere whisper of the intensity within his sharp features.

"Please keep this between us," you muttered, trying to push as much audible annoyance into the sentence as possible.

With a satisfied hum, he drew back and turned his phone off before slipping it in his pocket. "See how easy that was?"

"But you didn't delete it," you protested.

"Relax, sweetheart, I'm not gonna show anyone." His gaze raked over your form, a smug grin pulling at the corners of his lips. "I'm the only one who gets to see you looking like that."

The hand still holding your hips began to trail lower, gently grasping the top of your thighs.

Your eyes widened at the feeling. "What are you doing?"

Cerulean irises flashed up to yours as his movements came to an abrupt halt. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you breathed, far too quickly for your liking.

A smirk cracked over his features. "That's what I thought."

And his lips crashed against yours, hands moving to cup your face in a gentle ardor you didn't know he possessed.

He lifted his knee, nudging it between your thighs and drawing a sigh from you. He took advantage of your surprise, slipping his tongue forward to meet yours.

The kiss turned desperate. It trailed down toward your jaw and right above your neckline, creating marks that you could only hope to be able to hide.

Lust began to cloud your senses, fogging over your mind until rational thought became unnoticed. You unconsciously began to roll your hips over his thigh, desperate for friction in whatever form possible.

With squeeze he gave your ass, and the way he grinned into your neck, it was evident that he noticed.

"Do you know how long I've thought about you like this?" His voice was coarse against your neck.

"In a maid outfit?" You breathed, earning a short laugh.

"Desperate for me to fuck you stupid, but that's good too."

Dabi sneaked a hand under your skirt, nudging the fabric of your underwear to the side. He ran a finger across your slit, examining the wetness that followed it with pure satisfaction. "Shit, I've barely even done anything yet."

Your body stiffened as his thumb brushed over your clit, slowing rolling over the nub until your hips followed each rotation.

Satisfaction flashed in his features at the way your body reacted to his touch. “That's right. Show me how needy you are for me."

“Plea-” the rest of the word fizzled into a sigh as he pushed a finger into you.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can do better than that.” The encouraging statement reeked of mocking amusement. His hand curled into you, eyes brightening with every gasp and whine he pulled from you.

You grabbed onto his shoulder, legs weakening into jelly. "Fuck, Dabi, please!"

"There you go, doll." He slipped another finger inside and a moan slipped past your lips. The pace of each push increased steadily, following the wordless pleas that you gave.

Pleasure coursed through you with each one, his thumb still trained over your oversensitive clit. Your surroundings faded away into a mindless afterthought in the midst of euphoria.

It was only a few minutes before you were melting in his arms, falling apart in a mess of ecstasy.

“So pretty.” He muttered, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen askew behind your ear.

The world was quiet, bathed in a gentle glow that the setting sun provided. Shadows grew within the corners, a physical hint to the ever passing time.

Still, you could've stayed there forever, resting in the bright cerulean that admired your shaking form like it was a work of art.

Of course, it would have been surprising if you were granted that luxury.

Sirens sounded in the distance, a sound that you were more than familiar with, but one that had never been as unwanted as it was now.

Dabi seemed to share a similar sentiment.

“You've got to be kidding,” he groaned, drawing back and taking a look down the alleyway. Annoyance flashed over his expression, taking the place of worry that any rationally thinking individual would experience.

You cleared your throat. "Uh, you should probably get going then."

His gaze turned back to meet yours, softening a bit under the fading sun. Regardless, that shit-eating had returned, much to your dismay.

"How sweet of you to worry," He teased, earning an eye roll. Coming forward once more, he brought his lips to yours again before moving to leave. “See you later, doll. I'll make sure to fuck you properly then.”

You could only imagine what a mess you looked like, breathless and slumped against a wall behind your cafe. The brick supported your body as you saw Dabi's come to a pause, like a passing train of thought had overtaken his path.

Face still warm from his lewd comment, you watched him turn slightly, voice echoing off your surroundings in one final statement.

“Make sure to bring the outfit.”

[viviennevermillion]

hi hi! this is my first time requesting something hsr wmqomq, may i request a small comfort fic with dan heng? with the reader being constantly fearful of doing something wrong, even if they have solid ideas on how to move forward or to work, because they feel as though one mistake will ruin things for others + will ruin others' perception of themselves (especially dan heng's perception towards them); preferably, the premise being dan heng comforting and reassuring them.

i hope you have a great and wonderful day / night over there!

ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: finally doing this request and there's no better time for it because the dan heng brainrot is strong today. reblogs and comments are appreciated.

✧ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ: dan heng x gn!reader, hurt/comfort, mentions of dan heng's past life, fluff, pre-relationship

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: you matter to me — natalie weiss, brad greer

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: insecurities

Your eyes felt tired after you been awake for too long and you wondered whether your mind was ever going to give you the peace you deserved. You had reflected on the events of today, moving through the activities you did as if they were a list of points to check in order to evaluate a performance. You pondered on the breakfast you shared with Dan Heng and Mr. Yang, questioning whether the latter had been so cut-off and distant in his responses because of something you said or something that had nothing to do with you at all. You weren't sure whether you did your chores around the Express well enough for Himeko to be satisfied or whether she was going to talk to you tomorrow, asking you to be a bit more thorough. You had been tired and it felt like energy was a precious resource that you did not have the privilege of obtaining today.

And then there was Dan Heng. The thought of him made you smile instantly. The way his hair looked messy still from the night when he joined you at the breakfast table, taking a sip of his coffee and yawning as if he, too, regretted not getting enough sleep that night. You remembered the feeling of sitting idly next to him on the train, both of you reading books and enjoying each other's company without saying a word. As long as you were with him, though he did not speak much, everything felt comfortable and safe. As though you had found a refuge with another person, someone who reassured you that he'd be there; strengthening you and accepting you as you were; without even actively trying.

It was only when you were alone again, that doubts started to creep back into your mind. Doubts about whether he truly enjoyed your presence. Or whether he liked you but found that it was exhausting to be around you. Like you needed too much help or made too many mistakes. Maybe he felt like he needed to work extra hard to make up for your shortfall.

You had finished your second cup of tea for the night, cleaning the cup on the small kitchen counter near everyone's rooms before putting it back into the cupboard. You had seen that the lights in the archives were still on, meaning that Dan Heng had either passed out on his desk with his nose in a book or the man whose appreciation you craved more than anyone else's was still awake, possibly struggling to fall asleep just as much as you were.

You were pacing around the hallway, debating whether or not to knock on your crewmate's door, but feeling like it would probably anger him if you did. You had hesitated in front of the archives for a moment before deciding that it was probably best if you just went back to your room and tried to sleep for at least a couple of hours. Just when you were about to leave, the door to Dan Heng's room opened; your Vidyadhara friend peeking through the opening to look at you with a questioning expression. "Did you need anything?", he asked, making sure his voice was quiet enough as to not wake March in the room next to his, "I heard you walking around here and stopping in front of the archives... I don't mind if you need help with something. I wasn't sleeping anyway."

“Oh I was just…”, you awkwardly put a hand on your neck trying to remember what you even expected to happen if you had knocked on his door, “I just couldn’t sleep. Made myself tea.” Dan Heng nodded and let out a sigh. “I haven’t been sleeping well either…”, he admitted, opening the door a little more for you, “would you like to come in for another cup of tea?” You needed a moment to process the question. Dan Heng rarely ever took the initiative and invited people to his room if it wasn’t to help them out with missions or questions that could be answered with the help of the Astral Express archives. So you nodded and took him up on the invitation, watching your friend prepare two cups of tea. A honey & orange flavored one for you and darjeeling for himself. You wondered whether he just associated different tea flavors with all his friends. Weirdly enough, that was something you could see him doing.

“So… why is it that you can’t sleep?”, you asked, sitting down on his desk chair, “is there some super important research topic that you are mulling over?” Dan Heng sat down on his mattress again, putting the tea beside him on the ground. “Not really”, he shook his head and sighed; hesitating for a moment as if debating whether he should open up to you further, “I get a lot of nightmares… they’ve gotten worse since we went to the Luofu.” “Oh”, you whispered quietly, now feeling a little awkward about the whole thing, “I’m sorry if I brought up a sensitive subject by asking that… just… know that if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” Dan Heng nodded with a soft smile on his face. “Thank you. I appreciate that”, he replied with a genuine expression, “you didn’t hit a sore spot, it’s alright. But it’s only fair now that you tell me what’s keeping you up as well.” Much to your surprise, Dan Heng proceeded to pat the mattress and invite you to sit down next to him. You did as he had gestured and thought about how honest you wanted to allow yourself to be around him. “Hey do… do you ever think I’m making too many mistakes?”, you looked down, not feeling comfortable enough to look into his eyes while asking that question, “like I’m not doing enough for the Express? That I’m holding you guys back? I guess that’s something I’ve been… worried about… for a while now.” 

Dan Heng seemed surprised at your question. “I had no idea you felt that way”, he spoke calmly, “truth be told, no such thought ever occurred to me about you and I doubt the other crew members feel that way either. Well, except for Pom-Pom maybe; but they’re like that with all of us, so I wouldn’t take it personally.” He smiled when he realized that got a chuckle out of you. 

“We all make mistakes”, he then continued, “I mean; March once wanted to see if she could jump from one train car to the other while it was driving so the bar is technically in hell… but that’s beside the point. Being a part of this team isn’t a performance or something you have to be good at. It’s a path you choose to walk alongside us and there’s a place here for anyone who needs it. Himeko taught me that much…” It hadn’t flown over your head that Dan Heng had gotten much more comfortable with the rest of the crew since your return from the Xianzhou Luofu and it felt as though he had really accepted the Express as his new home. You supposed a home wouldn’t judge you for imperfections and mistakes, so long as you were willing to help it grow and prosper. So in that way, you could look up to his new-found resolve. “You’ve grown”, you remarked with a smile on your face.

Dan Heng reciprocated your smile, looking into your eyes with a gentle expression. “Perhaps that’s the real goal of this journey”, he shrugged, “so if you look at it that way, being without flaws or mistakes would really be the worst trait for a trailblazer. And don’t worry too much, okay? From what I’ve seen so far, you’ve been a big help on this journey. So don’t be too hard on yourself. There’s many people who’d tell you that I could never make up for the amount of mistakes I made. That they’re what defines me. But nothing good comes out of worrying about them all the time.”

You nodded, thinking about his words for a moment. Dan Heng’s reasonable demeanor was soothing for your worries and it reminded you why you felt so comfortable whenever you were around him. He allowed you look at the thoughts spiraling in your head from an objective perspective, though you weren’t quite sure how he managed to do it every time. 

“Hey… uh…”, now it was his turn to feel a little awkward, “you can always reach out to me if you ever need an outside opinion on whatever you worry about. And if you want to we could… lay down here a bit. Maybe it would be easier to sleep that way…” You could feel your cheeks heating up at the suggestion and you felt flustered and nervous; yet this was too good of an opportunity to pass up on. You nodded and Dan Heng handed you an extra blanket, allowing you to make yourself comfortable beside him. 

Your eyes widened when he put his hand on top of yours. “Is this alright for you?”, he asked, making sure that the reassuring gesture did not unnerve you. “It is… it’s comforting”, you admitted quietly, focusing on the soft skin of his hand on top of yours and how he gently started caressing your fingers with his own. “I think so too”, he smiled as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to relax next to him; the worries having been replaced by butterflies in your stomach and the feeling of being loved before you had even noticed. 

“Have a little faith in yourself, alright? And in us too”, Dan Heng whispered, squeezing your hand in a gentle manner, “we’re your friends and we care about you. I care about you. A few mistakes along the way could never change that.”

You fell asleep with a smile on your face and the reassurance that Dan Heng valued you for who you were, rather than what you accomplished. You were eager to see how your bond could grow in the future if both of you could learn to lean on each other a little more when needed.

[ivonhart]

the moon | steven grant x fem werewolf!reader

+ marc spector & jake lockley

— chapter six

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cross posted on ao3

gif credit: @paper-n-ashes

summary: You've always hated the moon. Hated the way it made your body bend and break into a new form every month. Hated the way it tied you to one of the many gods of it. But you couldn't hate what the moon connected you to...who it connected you to.

a/n: !! chapter warnings !! PTSD, unintentional s*lf-harm / It is NOT gonna get better for her XD!!!!

You woke the next morning to Layla scurrying around the room you slept in. You weren’t surprised to see the woman here. You knew she would’ve been hot on your tail the moment you left London. “Layla?”

You noted how hoarse your throat felt as you slowly sat up with a groan. The woman stopped in her tracks and quickly made her way over to you with a soft call of your name. “How are you feeling? I started to get nervous about whether you were going to wake up or not.” Your eyebrows were furrowed as you shook the drowsiness away.

Memories of what happened the previous day came flooding back and you looked down at your bandaged hand. It was clear it had been cleaned and rewrapped but there was still confusion floating within your mind. “What do you mean you were nervous? I just slept through the night.” Layla sat at the end of the bed with a look of pity. “You’ve been asleep for almost two days.”

A few beats of silence followed before you shot to your feet…almost pushing Layla off the bed in the process. “TWO DAYS?!” And as quickly as you got up…you fell down. All the blood rushing to your head, causing black dots to encase your vision. If it weren’t for Layla catching you, you would’ve fallen to the floor.

The woman hissed out your name with worry as she slowly sat you back on the bed. “The Scarab? Harrow? Marc?” His name left a bitter taste in your mouth as you dropped your head into your hands. You remembered what you said…what you did. Layla rubbed your arm silently. “I’m guessing Marc told you what happened?” You asked without lifting your head.

A small hum of confirmation left the woman’s mouth before she spoke. “He was lucky we were in the middle of a market, otherwise I would’ve punched him.” You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips before you raised your head. “I can’t believe I snapped like that. J-Just Marc simply saying ‘sorry’ and thinking that would fix everything sent me over the edge. And Steven.”

A wave of shame washed over you as you sighed. “I can’t even imagine what he must think about me now.” You turned to Layla with tear-filled eyes. “He probably thinks I’m an animal.” Layla slightly shook her head and allowed yours to fall against her shoulder as she began to speak.

“I can tell you one thing, Marc deserved everything you gave to him. What he said was disgusting and shameful. We know that man is not easy and I’m surprised it took you so long to finally snap at him…but I am surprised he said sorry. I mean…Marc never took accountability for his actions like that.” As Layla continued to speak, you had moved your hands to wrap around her arm. “But he did it with you.” You felt her shake her head.

“I am not saying that what Marc did was okay, but it is clear that he does regret it. He regrets it because he cares about you.” A small grumble passed your lips as you snuggled closer to Layla. “What has he been doing while I was asleep?” You questioned. “Mostly running around trying to find leads. He just left this morning chasing after another. He’ll probably be back later.”

A few seconds of silence followed before you whispered. “Also…I may have confessed to him.” Another pregnant pause filled the air as Layla took your words in. “WHAT!?” Now, it was Layla’s turn to almost knock you over as she shot to her feet. There was always an unspoken thing between the two of you about how you felt.

She never got confirmation about your feelings towards the man, but she always knew something was there. And she knew it went both ways even if you didn’t. Now, that once unspoken thing was gone as you spent the rest of the morning talking to her about everything.

-

“KHONSHU MAKE IT STOP!” Your pleas meant nothing to the god as he gazed up towards the moon. The full moon. “You know this is your punishment for what you did all those years ago.” He spat the words out with hatred. “You are nothing but a disgusting dog.”

Then he vanished, leaving you pushed up against a wall as you buried your head into your knees. You could hear them…calling you…cursing you. “–YOU MONSTER–HOW COULD YOU DO THIS–YOU KILLED US–IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT–”

You tried to scream back at them, but each time they grew louder and louder until you eventually found a spot curled against the wall. Knees to your chest whilst your hands covered your ears in a futile attempt to drown them out. It didn’t work.

“–YOU WOULD BE BETTER OFF DEAD–BEAST–MONSTER–MURDER–” Wails tumbled from your mouth as you rocked back and forth. Mouth wide, spewing apologies that would never be heard…eyes snapped shut but still seeing what Khonshu forced you to see.

You slid along the wall until your head pushed into the ground. Now, fully on your knees you began to smash your forehead against the floor. “stop…please stop…” was all that left your mouth with each hit. That’s when Marc finally made it back.

The moment he stepped out from within the pyramid and saw the full moon he was quick to make his way back to the hotel. Unfortunately, he was too late. By the time he got there you had already busted your head open, causing a small puddle of blood to pool against the floor. Your cries came out low and cracked as your throat grew weaker and weaker.

“stop…please stop…” A lump lodged itself within his throat as he made his way over to you. He wasn’t going to abandon you…not again. Slowly, Marc bent down and said your name. His hand ever so lightly brushed against your shoulder as he spoke.

With one final smack you went still and the room went silent once more. “A-Are they here?” Your words dripped from your mouth in the smallest tone Marc has ever heard. He muttered your name once more. “No…no one is here. You’re okay.” Steven watched from inside and his heart never felt so heavy. You carried so much. Suffered so much.

Steven could feel the guilt growing in Marc’s chest but he didn’t know it was because Marc blamed himself for being so late. If he got here quicker the night would’ve been easier. You wouldn’t have slipped so far to the point you believed what Khonshu made you see was real.

He watched as you slowly lifted your head to look at him…and when you did a fresh wave of tears fell from your eyes. Tears of relief. In a blink of an eye you had launched yourself into the man’s arms with sobs. “You came back!” You wailed. Despite the blood, tears and snot that began covering his shirt he held you as if you would disappear with the wind. “I got you. I got you.” And he did.

With effortless movements, the man pulled you into his arms and led you to the bathroom where he cleaned your head. Then he moved to the bed where he pulled the covers over your heads like a child would in an attempt to hide from a monster. All while you clung to him. “Don’t leave me, Marc.”

The warmth from your breath crashed against his skin and created goosebumps. Your head was tucked into his neck as you curled yourself into his body. Hands clasping handfuls of his shirt. His chest burned as he placed a feather-like kiss upon your head. “I’ll never leave you again.” Was the last words you heard before you drifted off to sleep.

The warmth he offered melted away the cold that seeped through your bones with each passing second. As you lay tangled within his arms, Marc heard Steven softly speak. “You love her…don’t you?”

-

You woke up during the early hours of the morning. The sun barley began peaking over the horizon, slowly changing the dark sky into one filled with hues of yellow and orange. With lazy blinks your vision steadied as you sat up, careful of the arm that fell across your stomach.

The day after a full moon always left you in a strange state. A state in which you almost weren’t in your body. Like bits of your being floated around…desperate to return to you. The pain along your head didn’t help with the feeling either. The only thing grounding you was him.

You looked over your shoulder to look at Marc…and Steven. Quickly, you shut your eyes to combat the sting of tears. You were embarrassed…ashamed at what Steven saw. Marc was used to the full moons. He helped you through them so many times…but not Steven. Because of your internal struggle you didn’t notice the bed sheets move until you heard his voice call out your name.

You kept your back towards Marc as he sat up, the warmth provided by his arm disappearing as he moved it away. “H-How are you feeling?” His tone was lighter than a feather, almost as if he was afraid to spook you with anything louder. Your mouth opened to say something but the only thing that came out was a soft sob.

Marc sat straighter and hesitantly brushed his hand across your forearm. Then he said your name again, causing you to slowly look at him. The moment your eyes locked he watched tears pool over your puffy eyes. “I’m sorry, Marc.” His eyes saddened as he shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for.” That’s when his gaze dropped. “I should’ve been there sooner. If I had, it might've not gotten so bad.”

That’s when he started telling you about the meeting with the gods. “I know you’re upset with me right now, but you have to know that I would never leave you alone during a full moon.” And you believed him. You believed him, because since your first full moon together he never left you alone. Marc watched as you wiped your tears away and slightly moved so you could face him better before replying. “I can never stay upset with you, Marc.”

The man took note of the new look that swirled in your eyes. You inhaled deeply before you gently cupped the man’s cheeks. Your eyes never leaving his as your thumbs lightly stroked his five o’clock shadow. “I could never stay upset with you because…” A soft gasp left your mouth when you felt his large hand graze your thigh as he leaned closer.

His scent made your head spin as your mouth ran dry, making it almost impossible to say what your heart burned to say. “I know.” Marc’s words kissed your lips with how close he had gotten. Both his and your breathing grew heavy with each passing second. Then, in the blink of an eye, the tension snapped and your lips crashed into one another.

The kiss was different from the one you shared with Steven to save him from a panic attack. While that kiss was gentle, this one was rough and hungry. Teeth clashed together while hands wandered. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his hands gripped your thigh and cupped your chin.

Your bodies were so close it was as if you would mold together. Despite the words going unspoken, both you and him knew just how much you meant to one another in that moment.

-

a/n: Sometimes I find it hard to write romance because I've never really felt it before so forgive me if it's kinda bad. Also finished writing and posted this around one in the morning sO.

taglist: @n1ght5h4d3-24 / @sunipostsstuff / @blackholegladiator / @ajeff855 / @daughterofthequeen / @faefanatic / @dropdeadbec / @sgt-morgan / @milk-bulb / @dev-angeline / @griffinkid2187 / @mxltifxnd0m / @badbishsblog / @local-mr-frog / @khaleesihavilliard / @rmoonstoner / @thewinterv / @oscarissac2099 / @peachyrue-777 / @queerponcho / @aristokatastrophy / @phoenixgurl030

[mondstalgia]

I feel the same way about the way BOC cast 18 year old Fuaiz in this role, I have to skip the sex scenes because it honestly makes me a little sick. It’s not like they have a shortage of actors so I’m confused as to why he was cast. Sure he’s talented but again BOC has sooooo many other options

Thank you for sharing this, it makes me feel a little less alienated. I also agree that he is a wonderful actor who very much deserves a big role especially after DFF but yeah, I think we are allowed to question this decision. I too skip through the nsfw scenes of his character and I don't demand anyone else to do so. I fully understand why they are there because they do say a lot about Tonkla as a character, I just don't find myself easily agreeing with arguments I've been having with people who claim "he is an actor and it is just acting." It's a good point but doesn't negate how they don't have to continuously throw their very young actors into roles with explicit sex scenes the moment they turn legal (see Barcode in DFF). It's the beginning of a pattern I am uncomfortable with seeing develop. Along with that is my personal standards. I am 26 years old, anyone under 20 is still a teenager and thus I see them as such. Teens don't magically fully devlop their brains, bodies and understanding of the world and its dangers the morning they wake up 18 and seeing them pushed into older roles with explicit depictions simply because it is legal to do so has me questioning the moral compasses of entertainment industries around the world (since this is not a BOC or Thailand exclusive issue). The teens in this industry are not magically new, different people from when they were 17.

Anyway, didn't meant to rant. Overall everyone can decide whether they are comfortable watching it or not, I do not cast judgement on viewers, I am just glad I am not alone so thanks Anon!

[i-cast-bardic-inspiration]

Halsin with a Tav who had a toddler? Like they get back to Baldurs gate or theyve been nursing an egg(for the Gith and Dragonborn Tavs) that’s now hatching.

Pls let him be the dad he’s always wanted to be 🥹

Okay, first off thanks for sending in your request! I hope it’s alright to do this in a mix of headcanons and narrative blurbs because I have too many ideas for this wholesome content. Also, if I interpreted your Ask wrong please let me know and I’ll amend! 

But alright, here we go—let’s give our Big Bear some love and let him be Daddy Halsin because he deserves all the best things. 

*TW: Pregnancy talk, mentions of past trauma, wholesomeness so wholesome it hurts

Halsin will be in shock for a brief moment before going into Daddy Halsin mode. This man has just gone through the most traumatic hundreds of years; in pure survival mode after losing his family, being held prisoner in the Underdark, dealing with the Shadow Curse and all that it has brought upon him—he never once during that time was afforded the opportunity to simply…live. He always focused on doing what was necessary to survive. So now that he finally can let some of his walls down? Now that his lover just told him they have a child? 

He looks at you frozen in disbelief…he never thought he would be able to have his own family. And now you’ve given him one of life’s greatest joys in the mere blink of an eye. His whole world has turned on its axis in the best of ways and he needs a moment to find his feet on the ground again. 

Whether it’s biologically yours or you’ve adopted, it doesn’t matter—he views it all the same. He is in awe, deep gratitude bursting forth for this bounty of nature you’ve provided him with; that you’ve invited him to share.

“My heart…you,” Halsin’s voice breaks, “Why did you not tell me before?” the question falls past his lips with a tremble, but there is no trace of anger or hurt in his tone. Only awe, tinged with a soft skepticism as though this moment will slip through his fingers and he will wake to find it was all a dream. 

You tell him why. Maybe it’s because you were scared he wouldn’t want anything to do with you or your child…maybe you didn’t want to distract him from all that still needed to be accomplished…maybe you didn’t want to add another burden to his already heavily-weighed-down shoulders—whatever it is…

He understands your fears but tells you to put them to rest because nothing—absolutely nothing—could ever deter him from loving and caring for you and your child. He is more than willing to step into the role of a father…if that is what you should wish of course, to share this part of your life with him…

As soon as you give him the affirmative, he is all over you. Wrapping you up in his strong embrace, placing kisses wherever his lips can reach before settling his face against your neck and inhaling deeply. Your scent calms him, and he needs it to ground himself after the revelation that he finally—finally—has the one thing he thought he’d never have again…a family. He is a dad. 

He’s a dad! 

His deep laughter echoes through the air. He’s overjoyed, a little scared maybe too, but his unbridled joy is contagious and you find yourself tearfully laughing along with him. 

With your invitation, he quickly stepped into full dad mode, and wants to unleash all the doting upon you and your child that he possibly can. 

If the baby has not been born/hatched yet; he’s all about using his skilled hands to melt the tension from your feet and calves and anywhere else you might be tense from carrying the weight of another; letting his healing magic wash over you when your head is pounding and stomach is churning from the extra hormones; making sure you have proper nutritional meals to keep your stamina up…his healer capabilities really kick into high gear here.

If your little one is already in the world, they immediately take to Halsin like a moth to light. And he takes to fatherhood just as easily. It is a precious and priceless thing to watch the two of them bond so quickly. You knew he would take to it naturally, having all the qualities of a loving and supportive father. He was always a wonderful listener, he was just as good of a teacher, and he still held so much wonder and love for the world even after all his years. His zest for life was contagious and played right into the natural curiosities of a child. 

Beneath all of the stoic wisdom is a man who loves to play. Loves to experience everything life has to offer. And it shows when they decide to have storytime before bed…or any other time your little one asks for stories. Which is a lot of the time because Halsin is rather good at it. He could be a bard if he wanted. But all he wants is to see the expressions of wonder on your child’s face, the shrieks of laughter and gasps of surprise filling his ears as he twists and turns the stories, acting them out with grand gestures and motions. 

Sometimes storytelling evolves into playing “Adventurers”—or so that’s what the two of them call this game anyway…you call it pure chaos, but you don’t mind one bit. Not as your little one rides on the back of a giant wildshaped bear through the forest, roars and laughter tickling your ears. You join in at times, and it usually ends in one big giant cuddle pile as morning turns into afternoon and sleepy little eyes close for a short nap. It’s at times like these his heart threatens to burst, and you can see it in his eyes—feel it in the way his fingers trace your jawline and move softly, reverently into your hair…soon you’re drifting off in the peacefulness of it all too. Halsin just lays there holding the two of you in his arms, listening to your soft inhales and exhales. In the slow moments is when he really feels it hit him. How contented he is. 

They’ll go on walks around the forest together, sometimes stop to examine a plant or a flower, your child asking Halsin 123812378 questions about everything they come across, and he answers every one of those questions with the utmost of patience. He genuinely loves to share his knowledge with young and curious minds. You can tell by the way his eyes light up, and how his voice excitedly carries across the meadow as he explains things like how flowers grow from the ground with the help of the sun and water and air. 

He even asks some questions of his own to get your child thinking and talking, and also just to be silly and play: “what kind of animal would you be?” ~ “what is your favorite thing to eat?” ~ “do you think cats can have fins?” ~ “what is your favorite thing to do with mommy and daddy?” 

When your child is sad or upset, he is there guiding them through their big feelings. Oak Father knows, Halsin has had his fair share of coping with tough emotions through his years. Even with all the practice he’s had though he still gets overwhelmed at times. Children need help getting through these sorts of big feelings, not to be admonished or chastised for feeling something natural. Of course while he usually spends time wildshaped when he needs to think, he knows that might not work for a child, and there are certainly other solutions. Like physical connection—hugs, and holding a safe space for your little one to feel. Maybe they need help labeling what they’re feeling, and Halsin is right there ever-observant and gentle with his words, “I see that you fell, does it hurt anywhere? Were you scared when you fell from the tree?” Your child responds tearfully, “it was scary,” so then after a quick scan Halsin knows he doesn’t need to mend any broken bones. He just needs to hold them and tell them it’s okay to be scared and to cry, and that they are very brave for doing so. 

It’s moments like this that you find your heart swell with fondness so vast it nearly hurts. Because you know how capable of ferocity he is, how much strength and fortitude he has shown in battles past…that seeing him like this, so patient and supportive, so loving and gentle…you know he has finally been able to take the armor off both literally and figuratively.

He walks lighter, laughs louder, plays harder. His love knows no bounds, and he makes sure the two of you know it with every breath he takes. With every scratch he mends. With every toy he whittles. With every blanket he tucks in and every kiss he lays atop a sleepy little head. With every word and kiss and hug…he embraces this simpler but no less meaningful side of life with arms opened wide.  

One day, after a very important and engaging conversation about “daddy, where do babies come from?” your little one asks him another question. “Daddy, can you and mommy make a baby?” His eyes lift to find yours, a heat there so smoldering you swear you could feel it sweep over your skin in a dizzying rush. “Little One,” he starts, tearing his gaze from you to look down softly at your child, “would you like that—a brother or sister to play with?” Their little eyes light up and they shout “yesyesyes!” 

Halsin’s smile lines deepen as he laughs loudly. “You will just have to wait and see my little heart, all will be as nature intends.” He knows that is a conversation to have with you in a more private setting. Though he’s pretty sure he can tell by the speed of your breathing, the flush of your face, and the warmth in your gaze that you are no doubt feeling the same sentiment he is in that moment.

Adding to your little family might happen sooner rather than later…and he definitely would not say no to having more little ones running around.

[atxxzist]

broken | c.s (12)

prev // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x reader

word count: under 2k lmfao

warning: nothing but lmk

a/n: its short but i needed this scene to be its own standalone chapter

you wish you can say the night san left is the last time he breaks your heart.

it would be ideal to say everything ended there; that although you can still recall the feeling of emptiness from waking up to nothing, it spared you from the worst heartbreak possible.

a heartbreak that you would then seek out on your own because you're all too good at self sabotage and chasing temptation; a complete hypocrite you are, angry at san for not ending things sooner but now that he did, it's so unsatisfying.

this can't possibly just be it.

there's still so many unanswered questions, so much resentment, and so many unspoken wounds that needs to be addressed.

he's caused you so much pain one after another, and he can't just... walk out without giving you some form of closure. you feel you deserve that, at the very least.

the morning you head to his apartment is the most low, pathetic, and desperate you've been, even the you a couple months ago would be disappointed. but you suppose she would understand if she knew just how everything's gone to shit within the past few days.

the walk of shame up the stairs is halted when you meet those familiar pair of eyes that causes an immediate sink to your stomach.

he has a cigarette between his fingers and pulls back only to pinch his brows together at your appearance.

you shouldn't be here. everything was supposed to end after he left.

the quiet and hesitant steps continues to be taken until you stop in front of him, gaze leveling his, and though you haven't said anything, your eyes tells it all.

a reflection of everything you've gone through, and you're tired, defeated, even more so than the night at wooyoung's party.

whatever you have to say, and whatever you're here for... he knows he won't be able to give to you.

you linger on the cigarette in his hold before prying away, the entire time ignorant to the fact he even smokes.

san thought he was also done with it given he haven't touched any other forms of addiction beside alcohol in more than half a year, but the withdrawal from you is just about the worst one, old habits started showing up just to numb everything temporarily.

the separation is taking a toll on him just as much as it is to you.

"you shouldn't be here," he's the first to break the thick tension, taking one last dig at the cigarette before throwing it down, but he refuses to look at you, whether out of shame or annoyance.

"i know..." you reply, almost like a whisper, but there's not a lot of time to dwell in the awkwardness of the situation because he's already making way back inside with you not missing a beat behind him.

"then why are you?"

the harsh and blunt delivery makes you stop in track, because san isn't one for confrontations. he usually avoids them. but you register that at this point in time, there's no more pretending.

the facades you both had put in front of each other for so long are gone, and all that's left is a broken history between two people who started it for all the wrong reasons.

"because i want answers."

your voice is so full of confidence, he wouldn't be able to tell just how nervous you really are. how, you still feel so small and fragile, he could break you without trying.

but if there's one thing you learned from being with san, is that if you want to stand a chance, you would have to play his game.

stand tall and act like you're not the tiniest bit intimidated by the slight tilt of his head and the burning of his gaze as he looks you up from the couch.

a quiet sigh leaves him, watching as he goes on to shake his head in slight irritation, you can't help but to feel some type of way at the gesture.

"i don't know what more i could say to you that i already didn't--"

"--all of this. why did you do it?" but the confidence only turns to remnants of betrayal, he has to keep from recoiling.

"i told you, y/n. i gave you a choice, we made a deal and you agreed to everything."

"we made a deal, but i said i wanted out only for you to bust into my freaking room--"

you flinch in position when he suddenly gets up and walks over, his looming figure almost closing you in against the wall as fear quickly washes in.

"--you think i don't know that? i was there. so tell me again, why the fuck are you here?"

"because i want to know why the hell you took me on that trip! why did you stayed all those nights, and why were there times you actually seemed genuine, only for you to always walk out... always leaving me hanging..."

san goes from aggravated to feeling guilty in a matter of seconds, his body language softens at your frustration, only for a low mutter to fall out, "even if i tell you, it won't matter. none of this will."

"nothing ever matters when it comes to you, san. but it matters to me, because you knew i was stupid, naive, and easily manipulated, and you took advantage of that--"

"i know!" the volume makes you jump, "i know i fucked up, i know this is all my fault! that's why i'm trying to fix it!"

"how is this fixing anything?"

"because if i had stayed, would that have been any better?"

the thought knocks, and it knocks you over hard to the point of denial.

"i don't know what it would be like if we actually gave this a chance, because the entire time i feel like you never allowed me to get too close."

"even then, i don't have to tell you. you're not stupid, y/n. you know deep down how wrong i am for you. how wrong we are for each other."

you swallow down the tension, completely speechless, and only able to stare at san as he actually starts sounding reasonable... which is what makes it so unsettling.

"actually, i think you probably would like me a lot less if you really got to know me." he scoffs it off with a short laughter and his bittersweet gaze continues lasering into yours.

"i know you're sweet and all that, but i always had the smallest suspicion that there was a deeper, hidden reason for why you wanted to know about me so much."

it's that statement that picks up the immersion even more because you're curious; wonder what the presumption just might be.

"maybe a part of you was secretly hoping that i'm this broken soul who grew up in a shitty environment with shitty parents, and that's why i'm the way i am..."

but again, you have a natural instinct for self defense.

"what? no. i-i never thought--"

"then are you saying you like me for who i am? the douche that screwed you over so many times? because i highly doubt that."

"i never planned on changing you or anything like that!" you cry out, trying the hardest to hold back some tears, beyond frustrated at the assumption being projected onto you, but also at his approach.

he's exceptionally hostile, because not only is he trying to convince you, but also himself.

"good. then i don't have to tell you why whatever this is between me and you will never work."

for a brief moment, your head is in another dimension where time has pulled you back to a discussion your professor and classmates had about what brought them to writing.

for many, literature is in their blood. for others; for you, it is a way to detach from reality and to dream of another; living in your head and escaping... it's not a bad thing if that's what drives you, your professor said.

it's good to always keep a wishful mind that anything is possible in that form.

"but if you need to hear it for yourself; for a peace of mind... you won't like me. it's as simple as that, but i'm sure you already got the memo."

he stops to catch his breath before going on, "i'm not special by any means, and i don't come from some interesting background like you probably think i do. i'm just some prick with well-off parents and enough time to fuck around. it was what drew me and wooyoung to each other initially... because we were both just some stupid rich kids."

"i was only able to get you the job because of all the connections i have, yet i don't work a damn day in my life and am definitely not the one paying the bills for the roof over my head. the trip, everything i ever offered, and anything that came out my pocket, i paid for because i could afford to. that's me. that's who i am. fucking choi san, and all the reasons for why you shouldn't want to be with someone like me."

and you really do dream big, because you want it so bad... for it to possible.

"but it's not like we get to choose who our family are and how we grow--"

"--come on, y/n. have a little more self respect than that. you know what i mean, or do you still need me to say it outright for what it is?"

he's growing short and as selfish as san's always been, he feels he's doing it for your sake for once, fighting to end it as hard as you're fighting for it.

"it's just... so unfair."

so unfair that he made you fall in love only to take it back in the end.

"i-i just feel like you never tried enough. maybe i'm not fond of who you are currently, but i could learn to--"

"please don't make it any more harder than this, y/n. you don't get with someone hoping you can learn to tolerate them... that's not how it works."

it's good to dream of the imposssible once in a while and fill your head up with 'what-ifs', but it's not healthy to get caught up in them. let it consume you and then be disappointed that in the end... san didn't come around for you.

"you're a nice girl, y/n. you really are so sweet, and i can see myself with you someday..." he says with a distraught look you will forever remember given how his words make your heart thump, only to then shoot it down, "but not right now..."

because this reality can be cruel, and no matter how hard you cling, it is sometimes about accepting defeat and moving on.

putting it to perspective, it's funny and ironic how everything turned out. how you used to make such a fuss about not knowing who san is, only for you to find out in the worst way possible.

even more ironic that things between you guys pretty much ended with a screaming match of some sort.

but the one good thing to have come out of it, is that you can confidently say that that was the last time choi san broke your heart.

next // series m.list

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[hb-writes]

81 “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

For OTH? I'm so excited you are writing for them!

Pinky Promises

A/N: This one got a little out of hand (almost 1700 words). Anyway, this is the first OTH story I'm posting, so I feel it needs a little context. The OC is Allie Scott, little sister to Nathan and Lucas. This takes place in Season 2 after Lucas has gotten his HCM diagnosis and moved in with Dan. Allie is about 9 years old in this one.

--

Allie hesitated outside the door to the guest room, her hand silently twisting the knob though she had yet to push it open. She had been sneaking into her brother’s room for years now, often seeking Nathan out whenever she couldn’t sleep, heading to his door after nightmares even though their parent’s room was far closer. 

In the time since Nathan had moved out, Allie had gotten used to staying in her own room even when she couldn’t sleep. Even when she had nightmares or was just feeling extra lonely in the small hours of the night. She’d learned long ago that visiting her parents in the middle of the night did little to soothe her. More often it got her into trouble with her father, who insisted she was too old for this type of thing, a taunting that her mother didn’t condone but did little to quell. 

Seeking to avoid his reproach, Allie usually elected to toss and turn in her own bed until she finally drifted to sleep or until the sun started to lighten the skies outside her window, whichever came first.

In a few short months, she had learned to cope on her own, but even just knowing Lucas was now sleeping in the room down the hall, something of the fortress she’d been building inside had given way, making her more susceptible to letting the worries take hold than she had been as of late. And even if she hadn’t been truly struggling to sleep, Allie missed the late night chats she used to have with Nathan. The opportunity of talking to a big brother, of not having to be alone in the big house, was too good to pass up. 

Allie held her breath as she opened the door, slipping between the small crack before closing it behind her, the act nearly silent even after all these months without any proper practice. 

“Lucas?” Allie whispered into the dark.

“Allie?” Lucas whispered back as the girl crossed the room, her arms out in front of her as she searched for the edge of the king-sized bed.  

“Are you awake?” 

Lucas chuckled at the 9-year-old’s question, her whisper almost louder than her regular speaking voice. “I’m awake. What’s—”

“It’s really dark in here,” Allie interrupted as she fumbled along the edge of the mattress. Her room wasn’t ever this dark thanks to the window shades she purposefully left open and the nightlights stationed strategically throughout her room. 

“Well, it is the middle of the night,” Lucas answered as the bed dipped beside him. “We’re supposed to be asleep.” 

“So why aren’t you asleep?” Allie asked as she settled beside him on top of the comforter.

Lucas had been planning to ask his sister that very question before she beat him to it. He’d been hoping to steer the conversation in that direction, keeping it on her because he wasn’t sure what answer to give her—the truth or some version of  it. He’d seen Nathan straddle a fine line when it came to what he shared with their sister. She was still a kid after all, even if she’d lived through more crap than any kid deserved to. Either way, Lucas didn’t know where the line was or whether it was a thing that moved based on the situation. He was still getting used to being a big brother to her. He knew the late night visits were a regular thing…he remembered Nathan talking about it, that Allie had trouble sleeping more often than not.

“Did I wake you up?” Allie prompted when Lucas stayed quiet. 

Allie hadn’t woken Lucas. He had read for a few hours after unpacking his things—a compelling read he had trouble putting down—but he knew that wasn’t why he was still awake either. 

“Just thinking about some things,” Lucas answered, glancing at Allie where she had settled onto the pillow beside him. Deb and Dan had sent the girl to bed hours ago, after Allie had completed some nighttime routine he had yet to learn the rhythm of. After dinner, Lucas had barely seen her. 

“Why aren’t you asleep?” 

Allie stared back at him, her eyes finally adjusted enough that she could see her brother’s face in the darkness. 

“I’m thinking about things, too,” she said with a shrug, her gaze tipped up to the same crown-molded ceiling Lucas had been staring at for close to an hour before she came in. 

“And what are you thinking about at…” Lucas twisted to glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “...2:37 in the morning?”

Lucas watched her idly fuss with the bottom of her pajama shirt, twisting the hem in her hands, the quiet stretching between them as Allie tried to decide whether or not she could trust Lucas with the truth. 

Allie suddenly released her shirt, squeezing her eyes tight as she let herself speak. “Are you sick?”  

“Am I what?”

“Sick,” Allie repeated. “You thanked dad for the medicine. He came in here and—”

“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

That conversation had happened after she was supposed to be in bed. Had he realized she was in earshot, he would never had brought it up. Dan must not have realized either. 

“I’m sorry. I just…well, are you?” she asked, abandoning her apology and explanation, some part of her pretty sure that Lucas didn’t really care for either. He wasn’t angry with her for eavesdropping. 

Lucas sighed, already well-aware that he would need to navigate this breach of information on his own. The only other person who knew about his diagnosis was Dan, and he wouldn’t go to him. Not about Allie. Lucas had only been living there for a few hours, but he knew well-enough how Dan could be with his sister, and he’d heard more than enough from Nathan on how Dan had treated him as a kid. Lucas wouldn’t have anything to do with putting her in the position to explain herself to that man.

“Can you keep a secret?” 

Her eyes lit up at the question and she nodded. “I used to keep lots of secrets for Nate.” 

She’d most often kept Nathan’s secrets in exchange for something—a new toy or a trip to the movies or an ice cream cone, but Allie would’ve done it even without the bribery because that’s what brothers and sisters did. They looked out for each other and kept each other’s secrets. 

And Lucas was her brother, so she’d keep his secret.

“I’m not sick, but my heart…I do have what Dan—” Lucas stumbled on the name. He knew she called him dad. “—I have the same thing our father has, so I’m not sick, but I have to take some medicine. And I don’t want anyone to know because I’m fine. The medicine’s just preventative.”

“Preventative?” 

“It’s like this,” Lucas started. “Do your parents make you take a vitamin every day to keep you healthy?” 

“Yeah,” she answered, scrunching her face up. “Can I tell you a secret though?”

Lucas nodded.

“I don’t really take them. They’re really gross so I always spit them out when mom and dad aren’t looking.” 

Lucas chuckled. “Well, taking them is supposed to be preventative. It’s supposed to prevent you from getting sick.” 

Allie hummed, considering all the chalky preventative vitamins she’d spit into the bushes or the trash or the toilet over the years. Hundreds or thousands of them, probably. 

“Lucas?”

“Yeah?” 

“Do Nathan and I have sick hearts, too?”

Allie’s father had been in the hospital. He had been very sick, so sick they thought he might die. She had a basic understanding that the problem was with his heart, that it could be “passed on” to his kids, the same way that Allie had eyes the same color as her dad.

“No…Allie, no,” Luke sputtered. “Nate’s fine. He doesn’t have it.” His test had come back negative. “And you…” Lucas struggled to imagine the kid in front of him dealing with something like this. “You'll be fine, Allie.”

While Nathan and Lucas had been tested, Dan’s doctor had recommended they hold off screening until Allie was a little older.

“Is that what’s keeping you up?” 

Allie shrugged. 

“We’re all gonna be fine. Look at…your dad. Healthy as ever now, isn’t he?” 

Allie couldn’t deny that her father seemed better. Seemed like nothing had even happened.

“But he almost died,” Allie answered. “Is that going to happen to you?”

“No,” Lucas interrupted. “That’s not going to happen, Allie. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Pinky promise?” she asked, her pinky extended into the space between them. 

Lucas hesitated. It would be easy to wrap his finger around hers and tell her what she wants to hear, but Luke didn’t know if it was a promise he could keep. It scared him that he couldn’t just tell her what she wanted to hear, that this was so far out of his control, but with his little sister watching his face, studying him for clues, Lucas pushed those fears away.

“I can’t promise you that, but I can promise to take my medicine and do what the doctors tell me so I can stay healthy. How’s that?” 

“Okay.” Allie nodded before she started fumbling with the hem of her shirt again, a quiet lull settling between them. “...Lucas?” 

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I could maybe stay in here with you tonight?” she whispered. “Nathan used to let me stay sometimes…just once in a while…when I couldn’t sleep…” 

Allie let out a breath of relief when Lucas nodded his head, offering her a quiet “sure.” She quickly settled herself under the covers before turning to her brother. 

“Nathan says I kick and punch in my sleep, but I won’t do that to you,” she whispered. 

Lucas laughed. “Pinky promise on that one?”

“Pinky promise,” Allie giggled, holding out her pinky and waiting for her brother to wrap his finger around hers.

[barcaluvv]

𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ˢᵉᶜᵒⁿᵈ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ! 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 I woke up the next morning, a little later than usual. Sunbeams peeking through my cheeks who were still blushing from yesterday's situation, it seemed like they can't forget about the one who made them like this.This morning felt strange, there was no noise to be heard, Hector wasn't shouting around the house anymore, everything felt like a new start for me. To be honest I don't know what emotion is running up against my will right now, am I in love or am just dreaming? It fits more to be one, a dream, like according to what people who once were in love said "We are dreaming of those we don't have". If you told me exactly a week before everything happened that I'm awfully relating to this I wouldn't believe. I'm feeling scared and mostly concerned about Hector, we haven't talked since yesterday it's been a while really. Speaking of Hector, why didn't he wake me up to take him to his training? Maybe he didn't like yesterday's situation? What is he facing inside that dressing room? Are they having a tough time in there? Those scandals can take big influence on the team and their profit. I looked myself in the bathroom mirror while a few tears shed down my face trying to think of a valid solution that's not including staying in and hiding from the world. IIn addition to all these thoughts, I was mostly focused on the only thing and that i was wondering about whether the number 6 is doing okay, how is he coping with all of this.

After a while Hector came home, taking slow steps towards me and then fastening his walk taking a turn to his room, still not saying a word to each other. The next thing i heard was the gurgling of my bowels, I realised I didn't eat so I made us both dinner, I knocked on his door feeling numb all of a sudden.

I felt like the house was spinning but everything remained calm.

He didn't end up opening his room door, instead he texted "Tengo partido mañana, tienes que venir, alguien te necesita" which he invited me to watch him and his team mates play. The last part of the sentence sounded like someone out there needed me. The next day happened pretty quickly, it was the same but with intense more stage fright because of the game. The questions about number 6 were going through my mind obviously I was worried. When we got there, a lot of fans started to bang on the tinted glass window, sending me death treats, saying something like that I don't deserve him, I ruined his career...etc

those words pierced my soul, my voice became wobbly and I remained silent once again the world won. After a while they went somewhere else and I managed to get out of the car without getting hurt I mean physically, mentally I'm already pretty much hurt.

On my way to the gate I was hurrying, i didnt look where i go just suddenly my face gets on someone's chest, his scent was incredibly good, and while looking up, I see no one but the brown haired boy, Pablo I said to myself.And this is the moment when I experienced falling in love for the second time each again for the same person. We both smiled and I immediately apologised for ruining his shirt since all of my makeup was pressed against him. he didn't even have time to address me, a bunch of fans with ogeom signs were running towards us. He didn't even wait a bit, he pulled my hand and we ran for a while of course from them, when they finally lost sight of us, we found ourselves behind a small blunt bush that was nearby. I was breathing very loudly, skipping a heartbeat, the next thing I remember is our lips pressed together, at that moment I felt our sparks blooming. He slowly pulled out looking right into my eyes and saying "I'm going in again so don't be surprised when I do this" he pulled in and I can say there was intimacy in hesitance, hovering hands above my cheeks prodding the statement I let out a single nod. That so many bothered to say. A gentle brush of two lips, feeling a butterfly explosion right pressed onto my stomach, and delicate trembling of my fingertips, followed by the overwhelming, immediate relief from the heavy brick I had on my heart, it became pure. Perhaps not the first kiss but the first kiss I wanted. All of my worries disappeared as soon as our hands touched, despite his hands being cold from the wind also going through my hair i felt safe after a long while of not being. We turned back in silence and reached the stadium again, where the game was supposed to start in a few minutes. Me and Hector were still not talking, but I let a smile to him out wishing him a good luck. I still haven't seen number 6 for 20 minutes now and were already 10 minutes into the match. Not losing any hope, broad shoulders finally entered the field. The smile on my face widened, but the fear in my stomach has deept, and as always my expectations are coming to life. The next thing I saw was Pablo on the field laying in pain, holding back his screams while his arm Is pressed on his mouth, as the noises were trying to escape he didn't let them win, my heart began to ache, not like the ache you feel between your eyes or the ache in a tooth when u have cavity, my heart aches likes there's one million people tearing at its most tender places, I started to panic, then I sinked seeing first aid as they carry him from the field. without any hesitation i rushed towards him, pushing thousands of people to get through. Please Pablo say something, are you okay!?

It's going to be fine okay!! I kept saying that. I pressed myself against him and I held him in my arms tightly never planning of letting go "am I hurting you Pablo" I asked with a shaky drabbled voice.

Only if you stopped said the brown haired boy while holding my hand in disgrace.

I glanced at the game and noticed Hector and the other Barcelona players looking carefully at the cart, they clearly couldn't focus on the match. I saw Pablo glancing at them too back an forth. Minutes after his team mate and also one of my Friends Ferran scores and dedicates the goal to Gavi, pablo saw all this because the cart was facing the field, he slightly sends out a beautiful smile , full of spark and longing.

Three weeks passed by, I haven't heard of Gavi since he got injured, but somewhere on the news I read that he is back on the field. Plus me and Hector are still on weird conversations. My main questions are, is he doing okay, and when will I see him again. Wondering when will our eyes meet and create a magnificent bond that can't be expressed through words. I still replay our kiss in my head, over and over again, making it seem like a movie with no ending, the movie that you recommend everyone to go search for it. But that's really not the only thing that I should be worrying about I literally have an event, slightly bigger one though so I have to carry on with the look. Later that day, I sat by the closet, constantly looking for that one dress, I was about to give up but suddenly something sparkly chatched my eye, if it is what I think it is then yeah I found it. After hours of trying, I  finally found it! The dress was long with refined zircons around the neckline, in simple words it looked like it came out of a fairy tale, she had long sleeves and a set of gloves of the same color and material. I'm so excited to wear it! Naive me thinking nothing can possibly go wrong until... That day came, I entered the event with a straight head and a confident walk, I walked on the red carpet without looking from the side until, meanwhile, the cameras started rolling and the person I most wanted to see appeared at the door of the event. Pablo, it's him. It was the same thing that the cameramen repeated after every step he took, man he looked powerful. After some time spent, a journalist started questioning me about my and Gavi's so-called relationship, I kept silent while my heart wanted to explode, it had so much words to say but didn't.

Basically he ignored me the whole time, he didn't dare even to look at me. What a jerk, said this to comfort myself.

The Pain, I never expressed it potentially, I never screamed and jumped about it, never bawled and wept but the pain I felt was still. My heart was aching but never too loud, no one ever heard, I didn't allow anyone to, it itched and felt numb inside of me but in reality, it never went away. His smile was permanently plastered inside of my mind, the moment, too short but never enough to go out. But now it's 2:45 am, instead of sleeping I'm trying to find the words to explain how my world looks without you in it. Pablo, its like i became allergic to that name,or was I just tired of missing it? 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃...

[hwere]

I’m not gonna lie there’s a lot of weird projection going on. No one said Carmy was an evil irredeemable person who doesn’t deserve support, we just don’t want Sydney to be a punching bag for dysfunction 😭. To question someone’s morals and compassion over a tv character is going too far. If you feel personally attacked by people being angry at Carmy then you need to log off and journal or something idk it’s just unnecessary. We are literally playing with our Barbie dolls and making them kiss it was never that serious. 👀

Long ass reply ahead, so sorry.

Addressing the Carmy in the room. TL;DR: Shred to pieces this widespread mentality that the art you like defines who you’re as a person and any “attack” on that is an attack on you personally.

Here’s the thing, Anon: just like there’s a lack of balance in our favorite fictional restaurant, there’s a lack of balance in fandom when it comes to relating to fiction and fictional characters. I’m not trying to be all mighty here, since I’m also very much guilty of projecting into fictional characters, but for your own sake you need to find balance between relating to fictional characters and realizing that when people talk about your favorite comfort character, they’re not talking about you—as an individual real person—but how they themselves relate to that specific character.

The same way people talking “shit” about a character you like can trigger a response in you—because of how much you see yourself in that character—there are people who felt triggered by the character’s actions itself because they have dealt IRL with someone like this. So, shit can be serious sometimes. I’m not about to dismiss that.

But you need to understand where fiction ends and you begin.

I see a lot of myself in Carmy.

Growing up with an alcoholic parent is fucking hard and, unfortunately for me, I inherited all of my father’s bad traits and propensity to addiction. Every single day I wake up and try to be a better person, but I’m still fucking things up all the time. I’ve ghosted so many people in the past. I’ve a difficult time maintaining long term relationships of any kind because my fucked up brain always win in convincing me that people hates me and they’re better off without me. I’ve hurt others in the exact same way I’ve been hurt before.

But I understand that love doesn’t conquer all, that people can be damaged beyond repair sometimes. I also understand that everyone has the right to walk away not only from me, but from anyone else who’s doing them more harm than good.

This doesn’t mean that I seriously want Carmy dead in a shallow ditch (that was a joke). This doesn’t mean that I want him to be alone (I don’t). This doesn’t mean that I believe he doesn’t deserve love and/or to be in a relationship until he’s fully healed (I don’t).

And I don’t think those who are criticizing Carmy’s actions want or believe any of this. Let’s take a deep breath.

If you scroll through my posts, you’re gonna see that I, personally, have barely addressed Carmy or even SydCarmy. My main criticism this season has been about the writing of every other character and their lack of development. I already expected Carmy’s regression this season and I found it interesting to see this new side of him, but although the show started with Carmy, it doesn’t end with him.

I wanted to see more—and I will eventually write about the things that I loved this season—but these beautiful moments doesn’t compensate all the time spent on cameos, new irrelevant white characters, Claire and all the fucking Faks.

A lot of time was wasted on bullshit and people are scrambling around here to make sense of an average season, much more preoccupied with whether or not SydCarmy will happen and losing the plot about how Storer pissed all over the show to assert his domain. Is giving me war flashback of Twin Peaks: The Return.

I still love this show and Carmy very much, and I honestly hope the team gets their heads out of their asses and things get better in S04.

[jiaoqiu-s-bitch]

Could I ask for Domestic Isagi hcs? Please and thank you ❤️

you can ask for anything my darling😌♥️

————————————————————————

Isagi Yoichi - domestic/fluff hcs || sfw

• absolutely needs his 5 minutes with you in the morning (preferably more than that tho)

• he will set an earlier alarm just so he has more time to snuggle up to you and just enjoy your presence before starting his day (will get grumpy asf if he doesn’t get that, rip his poor teammates lol)

• is generally very torn between wanting to show you off to everyone and keeping you hidden and all to himself

• he isn’t exactly "jealous" of you talking to other guys, he’s merely convinced that they don’t even deserve your presence and attention, especially when he can tell their intentions are less than pure

• whenever the two of you are going out, he’ll always keep a hand on you in some way, both to show everyone that you’re indeed his and as a subtle way to reassure both you and himself that you’re safe

• one of his nicknames for you is "my polished gem" (in reference to Ego’s way of addressing the Blue Lockers) bc as cliche as it is, in Isagi’s eyes you’re nothing short of perfect just as you are

• apart from that and the casual "babe"/"baby", his favorite pet names for you are "sweetness" and "my angel", which pretty much sums up how he sees you, even if it’s far from the truth (in your eyes at least)

• he insists on good-luck-kisses before each and every match if his team still loses he’ll just blame it on his teammates LMAO

• on a very confident day, Isagi once asked you to help him work out by sitting on his back while he’s doing pushups, but that backfired badly and mans got HUMBLED💀💀

• the funniest thing is him trying to comfort YOU and convincing YOU after the fact that it was not because you’re too heavy😭👋🏼

• unlike Otoya or Aiku, Isagi is not a player off the field, and he won’t fall for just anyone either, but when he does he falls HARD; he is the definition of "a fool in love"

• is absolutely weak to you giving him puppy eyes, he rarely denies you anything as is, but even if there’s something he refuses to do or give you… puppy eyes and a bit of whining will most likely do the trick

• you will often catch him just staring at you doing the most mundane of things, and when you question him he’ll say smth along the lines of "I just still can’t believe how damn lucky I got by landing you" (pls give him a "have you ever been shat on by a pigeon" speech LMFAO)

• on the other hand, if he ever gets into his mean girl mode towards you, you need to either A) sass him back properly or B) pretend to be genuinely hurt by his words to snap him back to reality and remind him that he’s off the court and with YOU right now

• has adopted the philosophy of never going to bed mad at each other, which normally isn’t hard with him at all because he’s a very self-reflected person that’s able to admit to and apologize for his mistakes, but he will fully expect the same from you

• and if you fail at that, he can and will go to bed mad LOL

• Isagi’s hair is actually really soft to the touch, and even though he usually doesn’t like anyone touching it, you have got free reign

• tbh he’s practically begging for you to play with it whenever he rests his head in your lap, especially after a long and rough day on the field; massage his scalp in the process and he will fall asleep right then and there, more likely than not drooling all over your lap

• has the unnerving habit of NEARLY emptying things and then putting them back instead of emptying them fully and throwing the package away; you probably once threw an empty milk bottle at him at some point

• he’s used to getting up early because he usually has to, but if you don’t have to get up yet he’ll try to not wake you when he does and just quietly gets ready for his day; he’ll definitely make breakfast for you too though

• before he leaves, he’ll always come in and give you a kiss to your forehead and tell you he loves you, whether you’re awake or not