#worthy of 4am

[cherubxkisses]

ok. in love with him

[thomas-mvller]

I wish people would understand that yeah, some movies are meant to be rated in every aspect possible (the so called "academy award worthy"), but some movies are made just... for the purpose of fun. Just that. They're meant to be mostly lighthearted, warming, entertaining so people can disconnect from all the stress for an hour and a half and just have fun. Said movies don't need a harvard level analysis in terms of direction, storyline etc like jesus henry chrysler have fun for once in your lifetime it's not that deep fam omfg

[trubbbish]

engaging in ship discourse by proxy via showing my friends each other's fics for fandoms i don't go to

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 1

Part 2! G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

"How old are you?"

"20."

Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.

"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"

You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.

It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.

"I'm 20." He deadpans.

Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."

Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.

And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.

"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-

To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty. 

He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.

Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.

"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.

"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-

There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."

.

.

Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.

You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.

He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.

Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.

Which unfortunately has not happened yet.

With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.

You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.

Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.

It's impressive how studious he is.

In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.

Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.

You type out a direct message to the only person you know.

You: I missed that, what did she just say?

Gun: You should have been paying attention.

You: Fuck you man!

You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.

He smirks.

That night he kicks your ass again.

Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.

.

.

If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.

You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.

Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-

Hold on.

You double, triple-take-

Is that?

It must be.

Shit.

It's fucking Gun Park.

You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-

He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.

"Y/N."

"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.

He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.

Fuck.

Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.

It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.

After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.

.

.

The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.

It’s utterly charming.

Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.

Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-

Wait. You squint at the picture.

Is this guy for real?

"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.

He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.

Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."

He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.

"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

Even without a seating plan, one forms.

Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.

You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.

No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.

Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.

.

.

Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.

What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.

If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.

Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.

He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.

Alright then.

Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.

He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.

You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.

"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.

"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."

He arches a brow at your words.

"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."

There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.

.

.

Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.

You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.

A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.

He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.

"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.

.

.

Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.

He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.

Of course it would be from there.

The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!

"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.

Of course he would also be a coffee snob.

You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.

You think that's an insult.

"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?

You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad

Gun: None of your business

You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then

Gun: They are not-

Gun: Whatever

.

.

You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible

Gun: I know

You: Who’s Goo anyway?

Gun: …

Gun: No-one

You: Suuuure

.

.

You: Tekken tonight?

Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?

You: >:(

.

.

You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?

Gun: Ok

.

.

Gun: Thanks for your help

You: :) 

.

.

Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.

You: Spoken like a coward!

Gun: Dumbass

You: Hey!!

.

.

Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.

You: Does it have to be an espresso?

Gun: Yes

You: …Thanks

.

.

To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.

It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.

What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.

However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.

Strange, very strange.

You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.

"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.

"... Everything ok?"

It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.

He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.

At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.

"Are you interested in Tekken?"

"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?

"Then meet me. After class." 

"Where? Here?"

"No. At mine."

"Where's that?"

"..."

He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.

Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.

You nod along, thinking what is with this guy. 

.

.

So firstly, what the fuck.

Then secondly, what the fuck.

Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.

You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.

You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated. 

Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?

Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?

"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.

"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.

He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.

.

.

"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.

Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.

It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.

Apart from that, it's barely a home.

"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.

"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.

'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.

"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.

He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers. 

“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.

Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.

Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more. 

He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.

Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.

If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.

You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.

You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring. 

Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.

.

.

"Holy shit, I won!"

You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.

Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.

You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.

What you do find is-

Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.

Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.

And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-

(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.

It sinks in.

The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.

From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)

Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.

"Yes. The best."

You think it's a lie, an embellishment.

But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.

(Update! Part 2 here!)

[soapoet]

Your first kiss with them

requested by anon.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

You very well may have felt this one coming long before it actually does. There is a sense of pieces falling into place as you had forseen. For some, you may have thought about this often, consciously or not manifesting it into your reality. Still, it feels special and somehow out of the blue. Despite scripting the perfect scene you are still in for the unexpected. Like a director watching the actor go off script with a strike of genius, giving an award winning performance worthy of applause.

There could be miscommunication receiving clarity prior to this kiss. It is possible one or both of you spend some time catastrophising words spoken previously and in the time spent apart a mountain is truly made from a molehill in your head. It may take quite a bit of courage to bring this to the table, but it is so very worth it in the end. It seems almost as if this obstacle is what clears not just the air of concern about the matter itself but the tension overall as well. Your person is hit quite hard by the revelation of having in some way hurt you unintentionally, and as they apologise for their trespasses against you they find it necessary to come clean about how it is that they truly feel about you, which may come as a surprise to you even if you already had your suspicions. They speak to you so earnestly, opening their heart and mind up like a book that appeared glued shut for so long. You may even go off script yourself. Having daydreamed and rehearsed this moment, you may stray from the practiced shock and awe and simply accept their feelings and show that you knew all along. Which could be to their horror as they were certain they had their feelings under lock and key.

Their prior stoicism and the austere walls built tall and daunting finally come down to let you in. They will ask to borrow your time outside their obligations. For many, you'll be taken by hand for a walk, or simply away from prying eyes for a moment of privacy. They seem concerned about your comfort, and it's possible this occurs late, outside, in chilly weather wherein you are left shivering, though telling them it's fine. I see biting cold winds and your hand in theirs. I'll be honest, much of this conversation feels like a job interview as they gauge your compatibility. They may ask major questions right away such as your wishes regarding children and marriage, and expressing theirs. The conclusion is that you are compatible at your core values despite being so different otherwise.

This first kiss is contrasted by the cold, like a home and hearth amidst the snow. Often we think of cinematic kisses as the rest of the world fading away to make room for the lovers, but in this instance it seems more like the lovers merge and blur into their environment. As an onlooker, it's akin to a mirage. Two figures under a streetlight, there in one moment and gone in the next. It feels like two previously disturbed souls at peace, finding home at last.

Additional details: hair dye, boundaries, text messages and phone calls, nostalgia, snow and rain, flowers (roses and lilies specifically), shoelaces, caffeine, napkins, gifts, disney, mental health, addiction, breakups, stress, muscle cramps, insomnia, fairy lights, dancing, candles, blue eyes, 4AM, winter and late autumn, short trips, playlists, lip gloss, hiking trails.

02.

There is a distance which sometimes feels larger than it really is. For some this is moreso an emotional distance, but for many, this is a physical distance between you and your person. It seems that even the construction of the foundation had a steep price of time, and building upon this connection was a steady, albeit slow, progress. Some days you may have felt silly, wasting precious time and your youth on potential rather than promise, but you stuck it out and found that many of the things you so often thought were only in your head were true after all, and your feelings were mutual all along.

This distance, be it physical or otherwise through hectic and uncooperative schedules and poor timing, feels frustrating for a while. Yet the two of you stay strong and carry on trudging through the uncertainties and overcoming obstacles. The time spent on laying a stable foundation of sincere friendship pays off here as you both remain patient and faithful, and manage to work things out in your favour.

There is much anticipation going into this. For those of you for whom this is a long distance relationship, this first kiss occurs upon the very first meeting. Could be at an airport, train station, or some other mode of transportation. For those of whom this is merely an emotional distance or unfavourable schedules, this occurs at the very first meeting after agreeing to take the next step in the relationship from friends to something more. Commitment is very sure and stable, and you feel at peace knowing there is no rug beneath your feet for you to worry about being pulled, but strong and solid rock that will not crumble. A lot of messages and calls are exchanged, and you both feel as though you're a part of each other's day to day as if you've lived together for years. And thus, this first kiss may feel a little like making up for lost time, as though it's a formality that must be checked off the list as mentally and emotionally you are so much further along in the relationship than you are physically and must play catch-up.

Though it feels rushed, it's exactly as giddy and exciting as you had always hoped it would be. A warm embrace and a sense of relief, both filled to the brim with excitement to finally be in such close proximity and have the time and space to enjoy each other's company fully and undisturbed. A hug quickly turns to a kiss, and two and three and four. It is simultaneously bashful and bold, nervous and full of glee. A poor attempt at maintaining a balance between remaining calm and being chill, and the inability to keep your hands off of each other. Regardless how busy the environment, nothing else seems to matter than the two of you. Hustle and bustle, noise and people rushing here and there, with the two of you amidst it all in your own bubble of stillness.

Additional detail: linguistics, green, crochet, painting, singing, mozzarella, long hair, winter coat, autumn, pumpkins, cardamom, children, sleepovers, astrology, witches and wizards, cats and felines in general, politics, psychology, scrapbooks, baking, bills, anime, youtube, video games, typing, cars, small apartment, herbs and spices, nutrition, skincare.

03.

This scenario feels the most outright romantic and purposeful. There is something so very classic about this situation altogether, as though it is here to prove courtship and chivalry are both alive and well in this era. And yet, it feels new and refreshing, like the romance novels of old received a brand new cover and a modern twist. The courtship feels meticulous, but not uptight or strained. There is a lot of ease and wind in the hair you're able to let down after a stressful period. For many this may occur some time after a breakup or another interpersonal relationship which comes to an end and you find yourself ready to accept suitors again, or pursue them yourself, or simply putting yourself out there, so to speak.

These new winds in your sail may feel different even solely by the way in which this circumstance comes about. Your person could be quite bold, or direct in a way you haven't experienced before. They make their intentions clear and allow you to call the shots and make the decision as to whether you'll take their hand and let them lead you on a brand new adventure, or simply choose to not get involved. This prospect is alluring to you especially if you have felt previously you have waited for initiative to be taken without having to ask, always feeling as though nothing gets done unless you serve as the taskmaster.

Many of you could meet, or agree to go on a date, somewhere quite public and loud. A gathering of sorts, like a concert, party, or other lively event with plenty of eyes. There likely is an element in which these many pairs of eyes play a role, and I won't lie, the two of you may garner some attention and whispers amongst the crowd or people the two of you know. This doesn't appear to faze either of you, as there seems to be a good balance of public displays of affection and clarity that the two of you are indeed out and about together, and also spending time talking just the two of you, so gossip can travel without your care or concern, and the two of you could even enjoy the attention and the speculations, especially ruffled feathers of the few envious pairs of eyes.

Things seem lighthearted on the outside, but have more purpose behind closed doors, and you may discuss dreams and the future, expectations and plans, very early on. Though you're out proudly prancing in the sun together, it is not until it sets and you have the privacy of the dark between just the two of you that a first kiss is shared. It is sweet and gentle, but bubbles with unexpected chemistry. It's possible that something about this is very new to both of you. You could come from different backgrounds, cultures, or seemingly different worlds, or perhaps you are not their usual type or vice versa, yet it works somehow, and feels quite exciting and magical. There is a lot of security here, and a mutual understanding of what you both wish for the future to hold. Agreeing to take things one step at a time and look out for one another to make sure you both move towards the future in union, always on the same page, and have each other to lean on in case the going gets rough. There is a lot of passion here and it shows the most in your privately shared moments, though many may doubt what could possibly come of you two. It seems the unexpected seems the most stable experience yet for both of you.

Additional details: dinner dates, pumpkin patches, Charlie Brown, acoustic guitars, birthdays, calendars, live music, handwritten notes, bouquets, cinema, popcorn, red, meeting the parents, karaoke and singing in general, dancing, swimming pools, sports, motorcycles, muscle cars, brown hair, cuddling, smiles, archery, airplanes.

[rinhaler]

I Finally Decided On You

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ rin itoshi x f!reader

Genre: smut & angst Notes: in my feelings abt a friendship break up so have some angst heheheee Warnings: 18+, mutual pining, angst, pet names, cheating, dacryphilia, tit sucking ♡, vaginal sex, choking ♡, love bites, breeding kink, creampie ♡ Words: 5.8k

“You’re lonely, aren’t you?”

Your breath hitches as the words make their way into your brain. His eyes have been fixed on you for what seems like a lifetime, but it’s only after you hear him ask something so personal, so intimate, that you can bring yourself to look at him. His glimmering, jade eyes are so striking, so captivating, you can’t help but want to bare your soul to him.

“You shouldn’t ask me something like that.” you whisper, unable to hide your smile as you are both all too aware of the irony of your sentence. There are so many things neither of you should be doing right now.

And yet, here you are, allowing the 4am sky to encase your bodies in a melancholic blanket. You’re waiting for one more sentence to spill from his lips that will have your deepest secrets tumbling from yours.

You know him.

He knows you.

And it’s so comforting.

You’ve never felt like this with anyone before. He’s so easy to talk to, and even easier to be around. It’s almost like a punishment. The worlds cruellest joke that you’re being subjected to.

“You shouldn’t be in my bed, but you’re here. So, talk to me.” he smiles, effortlessly. A smile that he’d only ever show you. An expression that only you are worthy of and the only person he’d ever trust to experience it. It’s so loving. It’s like being home.

You’re quiet, your own smile fading slightly as you think about his question. What had you done to make him even ask it? You’re lonely. Is that true? You have friends, family, a lover. Realistically, you can’t be lonely.

“I am.” you tell him, honestly, finally finding his gaze once more. Allowing him to scan your trusting eyes so he can see there isn’t a trace of a lie. And he does, stare, until he looks at your lips briefly, and then back to your eyes.

“You’re lonely?”

“Yes.”

He hums, thinking about it for a moment. You don’t deserve to feel that way. Though it may be his heart talking. It might be the fact that he’s head over heels in love with you.

Every moment with you is so saccharine, so disgustingly dizzying that it could make him vomit from excess. He can’t get enough of you. He’s ravenous for you.

Your taste.

Each kiss you allow him to take is so seraphic, your candied lips cloying his insides. It hurts to be with you sometimes, he knows what this is and what it will be. He knows what he is to you and what he will never be. He hates himself, and honestly, he hates you a little bit in that same breath. Though he locks that feeling of loathing deep down inside, he doesn’t want to feel it. He doesn’t want to care that much.

Whatever you are to each other now, in this moment, is enough.

His face nears yours, and you observe him as his eyes close. Yours close too, gently, and you feel his lips on yours. His hand cups your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he deepens the kiss only slightly. He pulls away, eyes glittering as he observes you. He’s making sure you’re okay, that what he just did was okay.

And it is.

He pulls you closer to him, enveloping your body in his before carefully planting his lips on your cheek. He sighs, a little. The heavy, disheartened breath rushing through your ear canal. It makes you shudder, so he holds you tighter.

“You aren’t alone, you know.” he tells you, quietly. You feel tears pricking at your eyes as he starts speaking. He cares, so much, you can almost feel his passion vibrating from his skin and passing through you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know.” you sniffle. “It’s just hard.”

“I know.” he agrees, kissing atop your head as a show of comfort. He just can’t get enough of you. He can’t stop himself from being with you like this, even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t. These moments with you are his main source of happiness. Getting to know you so viscerally is everything to him. Whenever you’re together, like this, he gets to peel back another layer of who you are.

“I’m so—” you stop, your eyes catching his again before you brush away the thought. You’re playing with fire, with him. You’re letting him scrutinize your body as you bare your self-inflicted gaping wounds. Allowing him to decide whether to pour alcohol and salt into your ruined flesh. “I’m just sick of feeling like shit all of the time.” you sigh a little before laughing.

“Don’t.” he huffs, his thumb stroking your face again. It’s a bid to make your body submit to his. “I don’t like it when you perform for me.”

You smile, again, nodding in acceptance as you take his word as truth. It makes sense why he isn’t fond of you acting for him, though for some reason you can’t seem to help yourself. Wrapping your body in an invisible gauze as you do all that you can to prevent your lacerated skin from becoming infected by him.

“Rin?” you whisper again, almost hoping he won’t have heard you say his name. “Do you love me?”

The question almost wounds him. You see his eyes begin to tremor as he wonders if you want him to answer that. And answer it genuinely. He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Your bodies are mirrored up above, and he can’t help but stare at his own reflection as he contemplates how to answer. His heart skips a beat when you inch closer to him, wrapping an arm around his torso as you caress him and await his response.

He hates how little effort you need to make to force him to smile.

“Yeah.” he tells you. But he doesn’t look at you, still staring at himself in the mirror above. It’s a confession for him as well as you. “I’m in love with you. Is that okay?”

Of course he’s asking for permission to love you. Though even if you were to say no, it’s not like he could just stop his feelings. It isn’t okay, of course it isn’t. Nothing about what you’re doing is okay. Whatever you’re not meant to do always makes you feel most alive. It makes you feel excited. And right now, you feel wanted. You feel loved.

You don’t feel lonely.

You’re quiet for a moment, but you hope the smile you’re donning will show that you’re appreciative of his honesty. It takes you a while to think about how to respond. You could say it back, but what good will it do? If you don’t say anything, you’re sure he’ll be upset, but he won’t tell you that. You don’t want to hurt him, that’s the last thing you want.

“Thank you.” you tell him.

He doesn’t say anything to that. He closes his eyes, a soft chuckle emanating from him as he processes the rejection. In his mind, that smart, logical mind of his, he knew you wouldn’t say it back. Why would you? Even if it was true, it’s too messy. It’s a disaster waiting to happen, you both know it, so why would you say it back? But then again, why would you ask his feelings in the first place? His heart is screaming at him with every aggressive beat against his ribcage. It’s telling him, despite the logic working overtime in his brain, that you love him too.

“Do you love me?” he wonders, finally allowing his head to roll to the side again so that you’re making eye contact once more.

And you’re silent. You can see in his eyes that he’s pleading with you to reciprocate his feelings. To verbalise them. He wants you to mean it, though. He’d rather you not say a word than lie to him.

But, he knows you.

He knows your mind body and soul and he truly believes that you feel the same way about him. So tell him, won’t you? Lay your heart bare and just tell him the truth. No matter what the world throws at you, he’s certain you can handle it, together. Whatever concerns you have, he’ll protect you. Any repercussions you think will follow you from following your heart, he won’t allow. He’ll do anything for you. Anything to be with you. So look into his emerald eyes and be honest with him.

Be honest with yourself.

“Please,” you start, “please never ask me that again.”

The words cut like a knife. Or rather, he feels like he stopped existing the moment you finish your sentence. It’s like being in a car accident and dying on impact. He looks up at the ceiling again, closing his eyes, knowing the tears are soon to pour from them if he doesn’t get a grip.

Why would you say that?

You still haven’t given a clear answer. And really, he knows why you said what you did. It’s self-preservation. Maybe you think you’re protecting him, too. But you aren’t. You’re the reason his heart beats and this is the reason that it will stop. Every moment from now will be agony. Without an answer, you’ve given him one. And he despises you, now. He thinks you’re selfish.

He thinks you’re a fucking coward.

“Then… what is this?” he wonders, still not daring to widen his eyes and give you the satisfaction of seeing him cry. You can barely stand to look at him now though. Not when he’s being like this. You don’t want to hurt him, truly. But there’s no use in giving him hope that isn’t there. This is for the best, you’re sure. “Have you just been using me for the last two years? When you’re… fucking lonely.” his own breath hitches and he wants to disappear. From your line of sight, from the room, from the fucking planet.

“It’s not like that, Rin.” you sigh, and it’s almost breathless as you try and conjure the right words to alleviate his pain. There’s nothing you can say that won’t hurt. The damage is done. You’ve broken him. “You know the first time was a mistake… and then it just kept happening… and then—”

“And then you—” he balls up his fists until his arms begin to tremble. But he takes a breath, anger leaving him as he exhales. He’s always been good at that. He always knows when he’s getting too worked up and knows how to take it down a notch and compose himself. He’s calculated with everything he does. But he supposes you’re the exception. There was nothing calculated in regard to you. He fell into this fucking mess with you, because it’s you. “… Don’t you think the fact we’ve been making the same ‘mistake’ for so long means it might not be a mistake.” he talks, quietly. You can’t tell if he’s asking you a question or simply speaking words for you to hear.

You don’t answer. What can you say? You can’t contradict yourself now. It’s a valid point, of course. Is a repeated mistake truly a mistake? Maybe you and he are made for each other. Being with him could be easy, if you wanted. Being honest with yourselves and those around you might be easier than you think. Being able to hold his hand and go out on dates like a normal couple. Could it really be so simple?

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” you respond, bluntly. It’s harsh. The words make your mouth swell with discomfort and a horrendous desire to burst into tears. Nothing else will get through to him, you think. Being nice is getting neither of you anywhere. You gulp, and it’s like swallowing razor blades as you see how fucking shattered his face becomes.

He scoffs, a little, and sits upright in bed. You chase him, somewhat, sitting upright beside him and placing your hand on his shoulder. And you gasp, quietly, as he shrugs away from your touch. Your defeated hands fall into your lap as you continue to sit beside him, your eyes alternate from looking at his side profile to your twiddling thumbs.

Rejection was always bound to come eventually. He wishes he never opened his mouth, though. The delusion could have carried on a little while longer. Why did you have to ask if he loved you? You surely knew already. His mind roars at him to run. He’s staring at his sneakers placed meticulously by his wardrobe as he thinks about where he could go. Anywhere away from here.

Away from you.

But the child in him… is resilient. He’s never been one to accept true defeat. He’s never been the type to give up on his dreams or quit when he truly believes there is a chance at happiness for him. You see his hand move to his obscured cheek, and you’re sure he’s wiping away a tear.

It’s all but confirmed when he looks at you. Teal eyes almost illuminate the room as they look at you. Crystalline droplets reside in his lashline, and his eyes keep shimmering as they take in every solitary detail of your beguiling face. He can’t lose you. You’re perfect for him.

And he loves you.

He leans towards you, and you don’t fight it. Your lips slotting beautifully against one another as you melt into his kiss. It’s prolonged and it’s deep. You feel as though he’s giving you everything he has. Everything he is as a final farewell. The thought of never seeing him again makes you break away, panting desperately before you comb his hair out of his face.

“What are you doing, Rin?” you whisper.

This time you’re left without an answer. He grips his fingers into your soft hips and helps you move above him, straddling him so that he can look up into the eyes of the woman he loves more than he ever has or will love anyone.

“Play with my hair, please.” he whispers back against your bare skin as he lifts your tank top to expose your breasts. You do as he asks, combing your fingers through his hair again as he sweetly kisses your erect nipples. The only sound filling the room is his puckered kisses and your laboured breaths.

You hum, intoxicated, as kisses turn to suckles. They’re soft and careful, your skin breaks out in bumps as your flesh tries to huddle together to keep in the warmth. Your heart skips a beat when he looks up at you, briefly, before focusing on your tits again. He wraps his arms tightly around your torso in a bid to pull you closer. Your cotton-clad mound humping against his straining cock in the process.

He grunts against your skin when he feels the wetness pooling on your panties transferring to his boxers. One of his hand roams to squeeze the fat of your ass, a squeaking yelp escapes you as you feel thick bruising fingers dig into your supple flesh. He gentle nibbles your swollen tits, eliciting a mewl from you that speaks to your infatuation with him. Whether you care to admit it or not, he knows your body enough to understand the truth.

“Rin,” you shudder, throwing your head back in an attempt to gain some distance from what is happening and retrieve your thoughts. He doesn’t stop, though. But his eyes meet yours again when you return. He’s listening. He’s clinging to your every thought. “I-Is this really what you want?” you ask him. And he nods, slowly, relinquishing one nipple from his mouth with a pop and licking his cherry bitten lips.

 “’m not a mistake, baby…” he tells you in hushed tones before sucking your neglected nipple momentarily. He means it, too. You don’t think he’s a mistake. In truth, you think the world of Rin Itoshi. You wish you met at a different time. Things could be how you both want them to be. But this is how things are. You feel tears you hadn’t given permission begin to roll down your cheeks as you think about how lowly he views himself because of you. You are a fucking coward, you always have been. “I can be right for you, princess. I can.”

You hear him sniff a little before he continues making out with your aching tits. And you push his hair out of his face again, getting a perfect view of his lusciously long eyelashes. You can’t see his pretty green eyes from this angle, they’re focused intently on your chest. But his eyes snap to your when he hears you sniffling too.

“Rin… I-Is this—?”

“Do you want to do that thing you like?” he asks, breath fanning over your spit soaked tits as he snaps you from your thoughts. He encourages you to move a little as he hooks his fingers into your panties and tries to pull them down your legs. It’s clumsy, and it makes you laugh as you shuffle around awkwardly until they’re off. And he throws them across the room before your lips crash together again.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him. He swallows your moans like they’re holy and he’s fucking greedy. He manages to snake his hand between your bodies to free his length. And your vision strays to see it. His gorgeous, pretty cock. It’s beautiful and pink, though the darkness of the room hides it well. You know it from memory by now. But you can’t mistake the drooling precum leaking from his slit and down his shaft as he strokes his length at a steady pace while he kisses you again.

But you break it once more.

“You like it… you like it, too.” you smile, thinking back to what he’d asked you moments ago. He smirks against your lips, kissing you again before looking down at his length as he attempts to guide it into your heat.

“That’s right.” he nods, licking his lips. “’n it feels the best when you ride me… so sit on it.” he commands. He clenches his teeth as his tip sits comfortably in your sticky interior. You’re so tight and wrap around him so heavenly. As though you’re made solely for him. In his mind, though, that’s exactly what you are. He hisses, eagerly, as he feels the conflicting constrict of your cunt tightening and releasing repeatedly as he remains there. It’s like you aren’t sure if you’re trying to suck him in further or push him out completely.

His fingers curl around your dainty wrist, guiding your hand to his neck and encouraging you to squeeze. You do, softly, and you can’t help but smile when he laughs breathily.

“Sit on it, princess. S’all yours.”

The squeeze becomes tighter as you slowly sink on his length. Your jaw drops willingly as you moan through the stretch. And Rin, God, he’s fucking beautiful. His eyes roll over white as your pussy envelops him until you feel his pretty tip nudge your g-spot. You kiss his cheek. Again, and again and again until his vision returns to you.

He likes it. No, he loves it. But only because it’s you. He’s been with plenty of women, but he’s never been in love. He’s had feelings for partners, but never love. He can’t imagine letting any of them choke him the way you do. It makes him heady, but only because it’s you. The first time you did it he wanted to protest, to tell you in no uncertain terms that he isn’t interested in that kind of thing. But the word no could barely escape his lips before he came inside you after you squeezed the sides of his neck oh so deliciously.

“F-uck, Rinnie…” you moan as you start to rock your hips against him. His hands gently hold your waist and help you in your efforts, your breath catching in your throat as your clit catches against his pubis and trimmed hairs. “You’re s-so deep. Feel you h-here…” you point to your lower abdomen as you carry on rocking against him, your grip on his neck easing as you feel pleasure begin to surge through your nervous system.

He's speechless, though. He knows he’s big and doesn’t feel a need to reiterate it. Instead, he pushes his palm flat against your tummy as you continue to get yourself off. You moan, louder. Drool forming in the corner of your mouth as you keep going and going until your legs begin to give. And he pities you, he does. So much so that he holds your hips tightly and helps you rise and fall on the full length of his cock again and again.

Each impale is rapturous. The pleasure is fucking blinding as his heavy tip slams repeatedly against your sensitive soft insides and you mewl blaringly, no care or consideration for neighbours that might be trying to get a full eight hours before that dreaded sunrise approaches any minute now. You can’t possibly care, not when a cock so perfectly made to mould the shape and ridges of your pussy to suit it’s domineering size is ruining you so divinely.

“Don’t stop.” he reminds you, his hand covering and squeezing your own around his willing neck, encouraging you to persevere. The way your clutching fingers hug the column of his throat is beauty personified. Like a scene from a renaissance painting before your very eyes. And his eyes are blown to hell, full of lust, “harder.” he smirks, greedily. And you always do as you’re told. You want to be good for him after being so cruel. You want to please him after being so cold. You want to love him after being so harsh.

“I—” you start, your words becoming trapped in your throat as your cowardice springs to the forefront of your mind. Though, is it really cowardice? Or is it just the right decision for both of you? For peace of mind and an easy life, it is.

“Yeah?” his eyes practically glitter in expectation as he awaits your sentence to be brought to completion. You are cruel, cold and harsh. Because you’ve gotten his hopes up yet again. And you can’t have that, you just can’t.

“I’m, c-close…” you alert him. His eyes widen in surprise. It hasn’t been so long since you started. Are you lying? He can usually tell. He studies your face and feels the way your cunt constricts around his length as you draw near your demise. You’re honest, only sometimes.

“N-N.. uh… can you hold it? F-For me, princess?” he asks, pleads, really, if his watery eyes are anything to go by. You aren’t sure you can, but you nod anyway. You’ll try your damndest, for him, anything for him.

He manoeuvres you carefully onto your back so you’re lying beneath him. You remain wrapped around him the entire time, like he can’t bear to be apart from you for even a second. You can’t blame him, either, you don’t want to remember what life feels like without him snug inside of your welcoming cunt.

His eyes roam your body as he cages you in below him. Emerald jewels taking in each and every inch of your perfectly bare skin. Every detail, every crevice and pore. It’s all so beautiful to him, and hasn’t become a boring sight to behold in the entire two years you’ve been doing this.

Both of your hands cradle his head, fingers interlocking through the back of his hair. He looks into your eyes and you can’t help but smile. This is how your life should be. When you see how much love pours from his eyes as he looks at you, you know this is how things are meant to be. But it’s a shame, they aren’t. You feel your heart break in two as reality crashes around you once again. But he leans down to kiss you, silently asking your permission to keep going.

“Please, Rin.” you nod.

“Okay, I’ve got you.” he kisses your neck as he begins to shallowly thrust into you again. You mewl softly as you feel him suckle the skin covering your clavicle, and it’s sure to bruise, but you don’t care. You’re sick of caring, now. You just want to feel this. Enjoy this moment. You want to enjoy Rin.

He pushes your thighs gently, spurring you to wrap your legs around his hips in a bid for you to hug him tightly. You hook your feet against one another, and you feel like a koala clinging onto a tree. You don’t mind though. You feel safe, like this. A safety you’ve never felt from anyone at any time. He’ll keep you safe, always, because he loves you. All he wants in this moment is for you to feel good and for him to be the reason. You cock your head, curiously. And he wastes no time satiating your lust with a kiss.

Your moans feel suffocating as your throat swells with the desperate need to share them with him. But you can’t. Not when he’s pressing his lips to yours and trying to inhale your every breath and any other offering you can muster for him. He can’t let you go for even a second, he thinks. This is all he has. He needs to remember.

He looks upset when you turn your head to break the kiss, but his thrusting doesn’t cease. They slow, however. Opting to fuck you deeper. He wants to explore depths in your cute cunt that neither of you know even existed.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice quiet but laced with concern. It’s hard to even think as his thrusts seem to be whisking your brain into a pink mushy paste.

“I can’t—” you pant, “hold it… m-much longer!” you warn him.

“Oh.” he chuckles, and burrows his head into the crook of your neck. He kisses. Sucks. Makes it known that you’ve been with him. A final bid to make you his, though it will surely amount to nothing. “That’s okay, let go, baby…” he tells you.

You bite your lip. A momentary gesture before you find your pleasure crescendo from his faithful pace. He kisses sweetly along your jawline, humping into you hard enough that there is a steady slapping resounding through the bedroom. You note how the sun seems to rise and birds begin to chirp as you topple over the edge of your orgasm.

He could bathe in your sweet moans for the rest of his life, he thinks. They seem to harmonise with the birds singing outside. Your fingers dig and claw into his shoulder blades as you don’t let up. It’s all so tantalizing, a song he’d happily play on repeat for the rest of his miserable life if he could.

You clamp around him and feel a swell of pride in your chest as you hear him moan for you, too. Your cunt floods with warmth and you’ve never felt so wanted. Part of him wishes you weren’t on birth control. Part of him wishes that it would fail so that there’s a reason he can truly make you his. But he knows he isn’t that lucky. And he knows it’s wrong to want those things, too. He doesn’t even want a kid, really.

He just wants a reason to keep you.

Your chest heaves as he collapses on top of you, hugging you closely. You fear that your sweaty bodies may meld together permanently, until the breeze from the open window rolls in. Cooling your dampened skin slowly but surely. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, though. Being stuck to him. There’s always fantastical ideas conjured from absurd imaginations that give you cause to be together. It’s the only way, you think.

It can’t be as simple as you want to be together.

You can’t just love each other so much you can be together.

You need a reason.

A very good fucking reason.

“Are we going to be okay, Rinnie? Things haven’t changed, right?” you ask him, almost scared to speak but not enough to stop the flow of your words. You feel his body tense up, and at that point you know things have indeed changed. But change can be good… you might just be delusional, though.

“I’m going to shower.” he says, coldly, peeling his body from yours. And it stings. He couldn’t give you an answer, and you know that translates to him only having an answer you won’t like. He’s cruel, mostly, but never with you. With other people he can be rude and mean. But he’d rather be silent than do that to you. And it hurts. Fuck, it hurts. It’s all such a mess and everything is fucking ruined. “… are you coming?” he asks, looking back at you as he heads towards the bathroom.

And there it is.

The flame of hope he can never truly let die when it comes to you.

Your eyes flicker open, the room fully bathed in the light of the mid-morning sun. Rin is sitting at the edge of his bed. Legs covered by grey joggers and his torso bare. The shadows and light contrasting each other and painting an alluring portrait of toned musculature across his back. He shields it from you, though, as he pulls a t-shirt over his head.

He stands up, collecting the towel he dropped on the floor as he got changed. And that’s when he sees you’re finally awake again. He curses himself when he smiles at you, still unable to believe how easily you can make him do so.

“How was your nap?” he asks, calmly, tossing the towel expertly into his laundry bin.

“I don’t even remember falling asleep…” you admit.

Though you do remember cuddling into his side after your shower. Your towel is loose around your body, the one wrapped around your hair is crumpled up atop your pillows. He didn’t sleep a wink, he savoured the feeling of you clinging onto him like you might actually love him. But his mind was also plagued by the future. About what happens next. He doesn’t get nervous, usually. But now, as he looks at you in your most natural form, he’s legitimately scared. Scared of everything crashing down around him.

“I… your clothes.” he tilts his head, gesturing to the folded clothes on your bedside cabinet. You thank him, quickly, dropping your towel and hurriedly getting into your jeans and tank top you wore over here in the middle of the night. “I want to be with you, properly.” Rin confesses, focusing intently on his hands before daring to look up to you. Your expression is sullen, unsure of how to respond. You hadn’t expected to hear him say something so bold, not after what you said to him earlier. But you suppose he’s had time to think.

“I just don’t know what you want me to say, Rin.” you sigh, shaking your fingers through your still damp hair. Little droplets flying to the wood floor below.

“I want you to tell the truth… I know you love me. I know you’re just scared. I know you want to be with me, too. I don’t get why you’re doing this. I don’t know why you’re punishing yourself… or me.” he approaches you, walking around the bottom of the bed and grabbing your shoulders with fervour as he wills you to be honest for the first time in your life.

“No.” you shake your head and move away from him. “It isn’t right, you know it isn’t.”

“It’s not right? I’ve loved you for two years and you’re telling me that’s wrong? And I know you feel the fucking same, so please, please baby—”

“I have to go, I can’t do this.” you feel fresh tears roll down your face as you begin to search for your purse. You feel like your fucking heart is going to explode. And he doesn’t bother hiding his upset, either. Because he’s made up his mind.

“This was goodbye, then.” he informs you, and your movements halt as you look at him.

“What?”

“I’m not being this… joke. I’m not going to be your shoulder to cry on when you’re lonely. I’m not going to fuck you, you can’t just come here when you feel like it. I’m done, I can’t do it.” he takes a deep breath as he finishes, knowing that this is really over. It’s killing him. “I love you, and it hurts. This really hurts. But you’re not the girl I thought you were. I thought you were kind and I know you love me too and that’s why it’s fucking— I feel like I’m dying. I don’t get why you’re denying yourself of this.”

You sigh, slipping your feet into your white slides and trying to fight back tears. He thinks everything is so simple. He thinks you can both just live a fairy tale life and be happy, but that isn’t realistic. He isn’t being realistic and maybe that’s your fault. You thought you’d been clear about what this is between you. You hadn’t intended to make him feel used. You didn’t want to hurt him and you didn’t want things to end like this.

“Okay.” you shrug, fingers grasping the door handle as you prepare to leave.

“What’s so fucking special about Sae?” he sobs, quietly. You can’t bear to look at him. Your heart is already breaking and you know looking at his defeated face will give your vital organ cause to split into quarters. “As kids, he was always better at football. He’s older, he’s the favourite. But he doesn’t even treat you right, he doesn’t love you. I do, I love you so what’s so special about him, princess?” he drops his weight onto the bed below, sitting on the edge again as he wills you to face him. His stomach ravaged by butterflies as he waits for an answer. Any kind of answer that will give him some clarity.

“Nothing’s special about him, Rin…” you sigh, again, giving into his desire and offering him the eye contact he craved. “I just met him two years and a few days before I met you.” you sniffle loudly before hurrying out of the door, slamming it behind you unintentionally as you run to the elevator.

He lets his head fall into his hands as he begins to bawl. The knowledge finally setting in that this is really the end of this chapter of his life. The story of you and him is complete and the ending is fucking devastating. He rests his head against the wet pillows you’d left in such a hurry. The scent of your lotions and perfume still clinging to them. And he cries more, covering his face entirely with his hands.

He’ll always lose to Sae, that much is clear.

If only he’d met you first.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[hana-no-seiiki]

so @on-leatheredwings gave me the final shove to do this i both thank and resent her for this im rotting so hard rn-

but with Cat Villain! Reader I’ve always imagined them to have a darling. Mostly platonic but you may imagine this as romantic.

Like they’re known for being nonchalant as they are passionate. Some even say that the more they act like they don’t care about you, the more they actually love you.

But then in comes their darling (old Jason is definitely a darling of theirs, good angst set up there)

And Cat Villain! Reader is so quick to say shit like, “Don’t fucking get hurt or I will kill everyone and then myself.” or the classic Raiden Mei’s line with a lil modification of “If saving you is a sin, then I’ll gladly be a sinner worthy of the deepest hells.”

augh the jealousy the boys would feel would be so delicious i’m legitimately drooling-

like the copium they were on whenever you acted like you guys were bros even after they spilled the entirety of their hearts for you. blood, gore and all. only for you to slap them with this rando

tbh said rando prolly is a yandere too but is most likely someone who’s strong enough that stuff like the joker incident wont happen so CV! Reader just feels more comfy putting their self out there for them

will do a more detailed scenario of this some time in the future but it’s uh 4am now holy shit-

[toychest321]

Ugh, I've been meaning to post about this doll for what feels like ages! Allergies have been pretty bad this week, but I've finally been able to pull myself together enough to post about Fulla's prayer dolls!

According to the Islamic blog Alhannah.com, "The purpose of a prayer outfit is twofold – to respect the sanctity of prayer by covering one’s ‘Awrah’ (parts of the body that should be covered in public) and to uphold the principles of modesty".

"A prayer outfit typically encompasses a long, loose-fitting skirt paired with a top that has a head covering (Hijab), collectively ensuring that the body remains concealed during prayer". The website also states that there are one-piece and two-piece versions of the outfit, the choice between the two often coming down to preference of the wearer (in this case, it seems Fulla prefers the latter)

Muslims pray five times per day: once in the morning before dawn (Fajr), once at midday (Dhuhr), once in the afternoon (Asr), once after sunset (Maghrib), and once in the evening (Isha).

As far as I can find, there have been three prayer dolls of Fulla released. Two are for the Fajr and Isha prayers respectively, and one is for a process connected to all five!

Fulla's first prayer doll was released in 2004 with a doll-sized prayer mat and prayer beads for yourself!

Prayer mats are used to ensure the ground is clean while praying. Prayer beads, meanwhile, are used for dhikr, a process of prayer recitation after each of the five daily prayers. The beads are typically counted for each of the 99 names of Allah recited, however with certain prayer beads consisting of 33 beads instead (such as the one included here) they are counted 3 times over. The first 33 recitations are "Subhan Allah" (Glory be to Allah), the second 33 are "Al-Ahamdulilah" (Praise be to God), and the final 33 are "Allahu Akbar" (God is greatest). After these you must pray "Laa ilaha illallah wahdahu la sharika lah lahul mulku wa lahul hamdu wa huwa ala kulli shay in qadir" (There is no god worthy of worship except Allah alone, with no partner or associate) once.

Her next prayer doll was released in 2006 for the Morning Prayer (Fajr)! While I can't definitively say the same for the prior Prayer Dress Fulla, this doll wears indoor clothes underneath her prayer outfit to start the day! She comes with a prayer mat and bag, and (it says on the box but its hard to read) a prayer booklet of the Morning Prayers! And I hadn't even known this until now for this doll or the next, but apparently there's a button on her back that makes her recite them (batteries included)!

I like how much the pink pops against the white! Although the outfit is decent, it looks a bit plain compared to her other indoor looks (although that could have been intentional). I don't have any particularly strong feelings on her fashion, but it's decent!

The same year a doll for the Night Prayers (Isha) was released as well! Underneath her prayer clothes she wears a pair of pink pajamas with gingham detailing, with matching pink slippers! It seems she also came with a prayer mat, bag, and booklet (this time for the Night Prayers) as the Morning Prayers Fulla did! And yes, she also has a button to make her pray them with you!

I love these pajamas so much, they're so cute!!! And the way they match her prayer outfit too??? Indoor-fashion-wise, I probably prefer this one over the Morning Prayer's indoor outfit.

Overall, I love how all of these dolls not only represent a significant Islamic religious practice, but encourage children to do it with her! Between the prayer beads and voice button, I can easily see this doll joining in prayer with her owner :)

And not too difficult to imagine either, since Fulla has also made officially branded prayer clothes in 2005, 2007, and as recent as 2024!

Anyway, I'm glad I was finally able to dive deep into this topic like I'd been meaning to look into for a while (now to get some sleep as it is currently 4am)

Ramadan Kareem!

[hiddengnomes]

4am adventures: Geneva had a bit of coffee a little too late in the day. She opened up an online dating account to see if she can find a worthy guy in town. Once that was settled, she practiced her drum skills and remembered her dad's lessons.

[omiiomiaaus]

im sorry... im not sure if you're accepting requests so i just wanted to give u my thoughts (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

imagine toji cant sleep. why? cuz you're sleeping right next to him and he cant keep his eyes off of u. he might be tired but he's watching as your body moves against his as you breathe and the soft feeling of your bare skin as he mindlessly caresses u. hes listening to your soft snores and he smiles at the drool at the corner of ur mouth.

hes truly head over heels 4 u and all he can think about is how grateful he is for u and how much he wants to protect u from all the bad things hes seen in the world cuz ur his sweet girl forever!! <3

thank u for listening 😌

Toji watching you sleep

This is literally the cutest shit ever oh my god I wish he was mineeeeeeee!!!!!

NOT PROOFREADING BC IM LAZYYYY

Okay so like he’d be tossing and turning until he hears your soft breathing from the other side of the bed. you’re fast asleep probably dreaming about him tbh.

He can’t help but reach over and pull you closer, chest to chest, heart to heart. Your warmth immediately easing his troubled thoughts.

His arms were wrapped firm around your sleeping form. Tired irritated eyes admiring your relaxed expression. He brought his hand to your face, pushing a stray strand of hair from out your face, his fingers ghosting over your cheek.

His fingers were calloused from all the years of having to defend himself with his hands. The same hands that battered and bruised peoples faces were privileged enough to feel your soft untouched skin. Sometimes he felt like his touch wasn’t worthy enough for you. He didn’t want to taint his sweet baby with the hands of someone who’s killed before.

But your love radiated from your heart to his soul, making him selfish, you’re his and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’d rather hold you with his corrupted hands than have someone else, someone who could give you a normal life, hold you close like this.

Toji loves to watch you sleep. your beauty never halts for a second, even when you’re blissfully in another world while dreaming. It amazes him more, the fact that you’re unaware of the beauty you possess in such intimate moments like these.

He went from struggling to sleep because of insomnia to willingly depriving his body of rest just to watch you.

To watch the way your chest raises and falls with every deep breathe you take. The way your face twitches, probably a reaction from your dream.

He could watch you all night. He loved you so much he’d whisper it in your ear, gently kissing the top of your head.

The silence brought thoughts into his mind, thoughts of the moments you two shared. Your first kiss, your first date, your first fight. Moments he wouldn’t have wanted to share with anyone else but you. His mind and heart raced a mile per minute. He laid there under your body, hand coming up to rub his face. He looked back down at you, pure love filling his eyes.

His thoughts shifted from questions to statements.

“Does she really want to be with me forever?” “Am I really good enough for her?”

“I’m thinking too much, she’s the one, I’m sure if it, I want her in my life forever.”

Toji was not a man of many words… he kept his thoughts to himself but he’d make it known just how much he loves you. He’d protect you and cherish you for the rest of his life.

“I love you” he whispered into your hair, bringing his arms tighter around your body, stroking your hair. His heart skipped 10 thousand beats when you nuzzled into him like a little cat curling it’s body in its sleep.

It would be early morning by the time he falls alseep, 4am. The birds outside starting to chirp little wake up tunes and his mind would clear, your soft body comforting him. You’re all he needs in life, and he wants to give you the world in return for you just being you.

Man y/n’s so lucky… 😓 my inbox is open for feedback and thoughts but if you send some requests that’s fine too, I’ll get to them whenever I have time sooo if anyone wants to send me some that would be great cause I want to have more posts :) -Omi

[leclercsloveletter]

CL16 | friends or not (pt 2)

Summary: You love Charles, but he keeps you treading on the line between friends and strangers. The humiliation and frustration finally got to you.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem reader

Words count: 2060

Warning: Google translated French

Author's note: Thank you for your support on my first ever fic here! I’m so shock everyone wanted a part 2 so I stayed up til 4AM for this🫶

Life without Charles is just normal life 90% of the time, other than the fact that you allow yourself to see other people. You wish it was easy to indulge in others after him.

Charles lingers as the silent architect of your thoughts, he made a home in your gut and sucked you dry of the ability to spare anyone else half the intimacy you gave him. The touch of others only serves as a poignant reminder of the electrifying chemistry your body once had with him. So when Lando's rough hand rests on your waist, it weighs like an anvil, sinking you onto the floor of the FIA's gala.

Going out with your somewhat ex's coworker isn't the brightest idea, but Monaco is a small place. Once you get roped up into the circle of drivers and their little games, it's hard to get out with your dignity intact. Besides, Lando was one that you can confidently rely on. He was there and he was listening when Charles decided you weren't worthy of his time. Maybe he was waiting for you to break so he could come in, and snatch you up like a vulture for himself, it doesn't matter anymore.

"Darling, are you alright?"

"Yea I'm good Lando, I'm just dreading a bit"

You appreciate Lando breaking the flow of conversation just to check up on you. He let out a sigh before holding you closer

"Y/n, it's okay. I asked so he would be seated at the other end of the table. I know we aren't a committed item yet and it's not in my position to say this but, be mine for tonight, please?"

He held one of your hands in his, giving it a small kiss. He was so kind, so charming, so convincing that you smile back and nod. Lando leans in for a quick kiss that you reciprocate, ignoring every fibre in your body that's screaming from someone's gaze at the other end of the room.

Charles's and your body are in tune in a mysterious way, so when he walks into the gala with his new girl, the air in your lungs thickens into syrup. With his crisp suit, new haircut, and a girl he seems to care more about, Charles looks like a vessel of the Charlie that once had you. Except for the cufflinks you gave him when he won in F2, you wonder if his girl knew. But you already promised Lando that you would be his for tonight, to give him the undivided attention that anyone deserves from their partner. So you lean in closer to him and let his words flow through your head.

Time passes, the alcohol kicks into your system has dulled out and now waiting to be excreted. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom, someone was in there too.

"Oh hey, you're Lando's girlfriend?"

She was beautiful, elegant, and kind. In a red dress that hugged her body exactly where she wanted it to be, her posture so proper it put ballerinas to shame. A girl worthy of Charles's time.

"That's me, I'm Y/n L/n. I see you with Leclerc?"

"Yeah, I'm Charlotte, nice to meet you."

You shake hands, and although you both look well groomed, nails and hair freshly done, you can't help but feel humiliated by her. You both exchange some words and follow each other on Instagram before she returns to her table and you find a stall to sit in silence. Jealousy is a fitting word, humbled is one too, there were so many noises buzzing through your head at once. You need a smoke before going back into that room.

Paris is cold at night, the jacket hung loosely on your shoulders was supposed to be nothing more than a decoration so you shivered when pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up. You shoot Lando a text so he knows you're fine and just need a break from the event, he replies with "Gotcha darling, stay warm" and a cutesy emoji, you feel bad for him.

"Still haven't quit smoking Y/n?"

Oh that voice, the voice that makes you want to drop everything to punch him in the face and then kiss him through the blood.

"I think I'll be committed to it until it takes me out, Charles."

"So, how's life?"

The 3 words take you right back to that night in Monte Carlo, it wasn't that long ago, but in your misery, it felt like the previous life.

"Doin' pretty well, got me a cute boy. Doing my master's degree right now, new job, new car, what a life."

"You miss me so much you swoop down to date my friend Y/n?"

"Bold of you to assume everything is about you."

You replied sharply, the embers of the cigarette gazing at your fingertips before you threw it over the balcony you were standing on. The audacity he has is astonishing sometimes, you turn to him

"My life before was all about you, everything I did was for you. Now? I want nothing to do with you Leclerc, I'm sorry that your coworker likes me and he actually cares for me when you weren't around."

Charles was frozen to the ground, he didn't expect such an outburst, not that he would ever. You look at him for a moment, stunned that after everything, all the changes and pain you went through, he made no progress. You walk past him to go back inside, not without putting a hand on his shoulder with a sigh

"Charlotte seems nice, treat her well."

-

Lando was shocked when you told him you're moving to Milan to finish up your last year of master's. He was borderline begging for you to stay despite the whole non-committed thing you guys have. It's funny how you ran away from a situationship to have a new one that lasted more than a year, at least this one was healthier.

"Lando hun, I'm sorry. But I can't stay in Monaco for now, I need something else just for a moment. I'll keep in contact yeah? I'll update you on Pierre and Yuki too."

You hold him tight, there are no tears but only a shared understanding that you both won't work out and mostly, he knew you need to get away from Charles. Neither you nor Lando can live under that shadow, it's merciful that you let each other be. Even when you have to deny the attraction you held for the driver. Packing was easy enough, with boxes of stuff already being shipped to Italy and pictures of Pierre unpacking and messing with your decors in the new flat have been sent.

Your phone buzzes menacingly

"I heard you're moving to Milan, safe trip."

"Thank you, Charles, will tell Pierre you said hi."

Even in moments like this, he taunted you. He's everywhere in your apartment, at the same time, left nothing behind but you. You know when the plane lands in Milan, it will be a true new life. Maybe fate will let you live there, somewhere in Sicily or Naples sipping on limoncello and wearing a wide-brimmed hat.

"Motherfucker, Pierre you didn't tell me Milan was going to be hot as hell?!"

"I thought you checked the weather?! Don't blame me?!"

Banter with Pierre flows smoothly, if there is someone who complimented your insanity, it's Pierre. It's scary how he also possessed the ability to read you like a book, Frenchmen have superpowers you guessed. What you didn't expect however was sitting on the balcony of your new apartment over a glass of wine while he questioned your motive for moving to Milan.

"I know you won't just move here if you still can tolerate his existence Y/n. What was the final straw?"

"There was none, Pierre, it's just nothing was working out and I need a change-"

"Ferme ta gueule Y/n, I knew you both too well for you to think I would believe that"

You pull your legs up to your chest, getting cozy on the beanbag before chugging the whole glass of wine. Pierre has been out of the loop so you told him everything, the catch-up dinner when you broke it off with him, the gala where you both brought someone new and that balcony conversation. Even the little ones like him acting so nonchalantly and saying hi to you on the street or the "safe trip" text. Pierre listens without judgement, although if you add your own hesitancy in there, you would deserve every colourful insult he could think of.

"And do you wanna know the funniest thing is? He never realised where he went wrong, he never truly understood why or how. I'm the villain in his story because I broke his heart. Meanwhile, he shattered my fucking entire existence."

"Do you still love him then?"

"I do Pierre, with every breathing moment."

-

You have to go see Monza, Pierre and Yuki basically dragged you there despite your objection of "I will support you at home on TV". So now you're walking around in the hospitality area, munching on some rather good croissants. Pierre shot you a text to come down to the paddock which you reluctantly agree to.

"Come down with us!! @ AlphaTauri paddock right now."

The AlphaTauri paddock is a bit of a walk away, so naturally, you passed by the Ferrari's. Seeing his face plastered on the paddock wasn't a fun experience but it's fine you said. Until the actual model of those pictures caught you off guard.

"Hey"

Every cell on your body screams the fire you thought you diminished lit up like the Olympic torch. You turn around to see Charles in his race suit, painfully beautiful and surprisingly alone.

"Hi Charles, I'm on my way to Yuki and Pierre. Good luck for today."

Before you can leave, he grabs your arm and you let him pull you back. For the first time, he actually tried to hang on to you.

"Uh, I'm free tonight, I want to talk but over dinner of course. Will you?"

Saying no to Charles Leclerc is like forcing you to shoot an elderly lady in the head. It's impossible and unnatural for you to even consider denying him of anything. And it didn't help when he added

"S'il vous plaît?"

Charles was never one to ask you for something with "please". Your body was always given in a heated clash of tongue and teeth, your soul is even worse. But something shook in you, Charles saying "please" like he's begging for you to spare him your time. The time that you deserved.

"Alright, usual time?"

"Usual time"

He won in Monza that day.

-

"So, how's life?"

Same question, every time, like clockwork. But this time you're in Monza, next to some random canal reflecting the city on its ever-moving water.

"I'm sorry"

"You what?"

Charles' words stunned you. You don't know how to feel, isn't this what you were waiting for? Him to be sorry so you can run back into his arms and love him once more?

"I'm sorry for being hot and cold, I'm sorry for leading you on Y/n. I'm sorry for not seeing your side and wasting your youth. I always wanted us but I was stupid to fuck it up. So please-"

"Stop right there."

Charles looks up in shock, his eyes are almost brimming with tears. You release a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Thank you for apologising, I don't forgive you, Charlie. I don't think I can. So if you're asking me to leave it all behind and act like you didn't throw me down the trenches then don't. However..."

Your heart beats so loudly, that you can feel the blood rushing and the fire coursing through your veins.

"I believe in redemption. So hi, my name is Y/n L/n"

You give out a hand for him to shake, vision starting to blur from tears. Charles stares at your outreaching hand for a moment before grabbing it with speed and strength, as if you would regret it any moment.

"Hi, I'm Charles, Charles Leclerc."

"Like the F1 driver? I think we will be great friends then"

Monza never shines brighter, maybe even more than Monte Carlo.

"I hope so too"

Tag list for this fic: @janeholt3

[jordisblogg]

am i worthy of this gift?

shuri x reader

summary: after the birth of your newborn daughter, shuri makes a promise to her, she’d always be there.

ib:

it was around 3– maybe 4am, you and your wife, shuri were laying in bed, soundly asleep, until the sound of your daughter, amani’s, cries interrupted your slumber.

ever since the bundle of joy was born, it seemed like you haven’t gotten any rest, and it looked and quite literally was taking a toll on you. as you groaned and prepared yourself to get up, shuri stopped you.

“lay back down, umfazi, i’ll get her.” she reassured you softly, giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead and throwing the duvet off of her while you laid your head back down on your silk pillow.

shuri steadily walked up to the crib, “hey, hey..” she whispered to the tiny one, picking her up and softly bouncing her in her arms, making her way to the large accent chair.

catch me i’ve fallen in love for the first time

she rocked amani close to her, letting her hear the steadiness of shuri’s heartbeat as she took slow, calm breaths, softly rubbing her back and kissing her atop her head.

soon the girl’s cries turned to hiccups, then to coos.

for you i drop the tough guy shit, on this bus i sit

the queen chuckled to herself, “made all of that fuss.” she teased, smiling down at the little princess. she studied the infants features, god she had to be the most gorgeous baby she’d ever seen, or maybe she was just biased.

“hi omncinci” she whispered, gently wiping off the tears from her daughters chubby cheeks with her thumb.

“you were waking mommy up, you know? she’s been really sleepy..”

amani only stared up at her with her big brown eyes.

the royal shook her head, “i don’t know why i’m talking to you as if you can even comprehend words.” she exhaled, watching the gummy smile spread across the princess’ face. the sight only warmed shuri’s heart more.

reminisce when you came out the womb

“what am i going to do with you omncinci?” she spoke, mainly to herself.

she was blessed with the intelligence to be able to grant the gift of the both of you, two females, to create a child with both of your combined dna. but she feels like she might waste it.

what if she isn’t a good mother? what if she doesn’t know how to help you when you need her? how to connect with the little bundle of joy once she grows and matures? will they both fight? will they even like each other?

the soft giddily screech of her daughter snapped her out of her thoughts.

she brought amani up to kiss her over her face, she couldn’t laugh just yet, but shuri could tell she was trying, it made her giggle to herself.

“are you trying to laugh? are you laughing at me encinci?” she mocked, tickling the infant in her stomach, causing her legs to squirm.

tears of joy i think filled up the room

she could remember the day that you both had announced the birth of your daughter to the nation. they called her the kingdom’s gift, and that she is. she was something, someone, you all needed.

shuri remembered the spark in your tear filled eyes as amani was brought into your arms. she hadn’t cried when she came out of your womb, she merely looked around, after just coming into the world, she was curious little thing.

you told her how perfect she was, how beautiful she looked, she had shuri’s skin complexion but had your eyes, with the longest, prettiest lashes. a mop of curls set atop her head. and she was so little, almost as if you could crush her if you held her too hard.

she truly was perfect and had to be the most gorgeous baby you both had ever laid your eyes upon, and the kingdom agreed.

you are now the reason that i fight

it had seemed like time had slowed down as shuri had first seen the baby girl. she had never cried that much since the death of her mother and her brother.

but now she was blessed with the gift of a family of her own.

“i promise you,” her voice cracked, as a single tear fell down her cheek, “i’m going to be here for you, i wont ever let you go.”

i ain’t never did nothing this right in my whole life

“i always give you a shoulder to cry on, then i’ll dry your tears, i’ll clear the skies when it rains, i’ll make sure you never feel anything but joy, i’d give you the moon and stars if you asked me, i’d move mountains for you, i’d keep away all the big bad wolves that would even dare to mess with you, i won’t ever let any harm come to you, sithandwa.”

got me thinkin’…

“i love you.”

am i worthy of this gift?

[rarilight]

Officially jobless, staring into the ocean that is my fractured psyche creatively, hands calloused and scarred from trying to fix it and knowing that now i need to write because my housing depends on it so i better suck it up, buttercup

stayed up until 4am listening to songs about someone singing at a funeral and forced out the intro to a fic about the consequences of putting all your worth into what you create for others

- - -

people pleaser

variants or less commonly people-pleaser |ˈpē-pəl-ˈplē-zər

a person who has an emotional need to please others often at the expense of his or her own needs or desires _____

Carousel Boutique had been closed for months, the lights kept on solely thanks to the money brought by old designs still being sold in other locations, far away from where their miserable creator could see them. 

Once upon a time, at a party, somepony had asked Rarity who she was. 

“A designer,” she’d said with a winning, lively smile. “An artiste!”  

The pony smiled politely. “I asked who you are, not what you are.” 

Rarity laughed, embarrassed. “Oh, goodness! Do forgive me, I’m just very proud of my talent.” And she was, which is why it came first, and only then did she say, “I’m Rarity. Pleasure to meet you.” 

She loved clothes. She loved how they worked and what they said, the language they conveyed. An outfit, she always said, could say a thousand words in a single glance, which is why she made sure to weave stories into every garment she made. 

It helped her be who she wanted to be. And it helped others, too. That’s what she loved the most, and in fact why she loved sharing her designs. For as long as she lived, she would never forget her very first client, when she was just starting out, unknown and inexperienced but earnest and heartfelt. 

She would never, until her dying day, forget the tears sparkling in the mare’s eyes as she looked at herself in the mirror, in an outfit Rarity had made, and said, “I look beautiful.” Seeing herself for the first time not as the ugly mare she tearfully told Rarity she thought she was, with uneven eyes, and scars from accidents, and a coat the color of dirt, but as the stunning mare she actually was and would always be. 

It was in that moment Rarity’s identity became that of a designer. It was then she knew her purpose. Her use. The reason she existed was to use clothes as a way to share herself with others and help them see themselves as they should. Someone worthy of the world entire. 

This was her use. 

She was a designer. 

So as she stepped into her workroom, the fabrics collecting dust and the sewing machine stashed in the corner and half-finished designs chucked into an overflowing trashcan, she felt her already hollow heart somehow crumble further, still in denial over one simple fact: 

She wasn’t a designer anymore. 

And if she wasn’t a designer, then she had no use to anypony. 

And if she had no use to anypony, she was worthless.

And if she was worthless, she was better off dead. 

“Rarity,” Twilight asked, her voice stern, and cold, and angry, and upset, and desperate. She stamped her hoof on the floor. “Please! What are you doing?! What are you saying?! Do you want to be miserable?” 

Rarity, tears in her eyes, heart bleeding out, stepped back. Angry. Afraid. Upset. Hateful. Towards Twilight, and everypony, and most importantly herself. 

She had a choice to make now. It is said a possibility stays nothing but a possibility unless spoken into truth, and this was that moment for Rarity. 

Whatever she said next… it would set in stone who she was. 

But we should start from the beginning, should we not?

______

[fushiglow]

AFTER EIGHT WHOLE MONTHS...

and even longer for bunny, coanda effect is finally over and i'm in absolute floods. thank you so much for taking us on this ride with you, bunny. so proud of you for getting it over the finish line and doing it so beautifully too. you're my world champion. guys, i'm friends with a world champion 🏆

this fic has seen me through such a turbulent time in my life and it means so much to me because of it. i have such vivid memories of reading chapter 12 at 4am in the dark of january, letting all the emotions wash over me. since then, my mum started and finished chemotherapy, i moved across the country, and i burnt all the way out at work, but i had this wonderful story at my side the whole time

i've told bunny this before, but i used to search "f1 jjk" on twt every month just WAITING for a fic like coanda. i'd all but given up and started writing my own when it came to me like an early christmas gift at the start of december last year

like you said, this was for me, @bunniehoneys ♥️ i love you so much! so glad i ran to tumblr!!

remember, you can get early access to the chapter on bunny's ko-fi — all the proceeds from purchasing early access to coanda effect go to supporting a family in gaza through operation olive branch! such a worthy cause ♥️

[with-love-from-hell]

Ashes

Written for Gn!mc

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing: Lucifer x Mc

Cw: depression implication, self-loathing

A/n: I wrote this at 4am when I couldn't sleep and was in my feelings.

"Darling, what seems to be troubling you?" Lucifer sighs, easing himself down on the bed by your feet. He caresses your calf, running his thumb along the muscle. The movement was intentional enough that you could feel it through the weight of your duvet, but gentle enough that it felt like a mere tickle.

"I'm fine." The lie slipped through your teeth easily. Anyone else would have left you too your swarm of negative thoughts and emotions, passing off the dismissive lie as you just being fatigued or in need of some alone time...but Lucifer knew you better than anyone else. What's more, he's someone you found difficult to lie to.

Lucifer sighed, squeezing your calf through the blanket. "Come now, Mc. You needn't hide things from me."

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill past your eyelids. What could you even say? You couldn't exactly pinpoint the thing that had put you in a dour mood. The whole day seemed to weigh on you like an anvil, each mild inconvenience or small stress seeming to cause the weight to grow heavier and heavier until you could no longer carry it. Lucifer was a logical man- a man of reason. If you were to tell him that you didn't know what had you so down, you could just imagine the annoyed response he'd give. Sure, he loved you. You knew that. But he only had so much time, energy, and patience to give. If you didn't have anything to offer as a reason for your suffering, then you weren't worthy of the effort it took to console you.

"...Mc." Lucifer repeated your name, but the normal stern tone his voice would take when his brothers didn't respond to their name being called wasn't there. It was soft, laced only with concern and a desire to sooth.

"I...I dont know..." You glance to him uneasily as the tears slipped past your eyes. You close them, not wanting to look him in the eyes as you began to cry, feeling shameful for not having the words to explain your emotions, and for burdening the busy demon with your problems.

In an instant, Lucifer gathered you in his arms. He situated you in his lap so that he could cradle you close to his chest, letting your tears freely stain his freshly pressed suit. His thumb circled the center of your back, tracing the bumpy parts of your spine that stoof out slightly from the rest of your skin.

Your breaths caught in your throat as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing, but it only made the tears fall harder. You cursed yourself, not liking that you looked so pitiful in front of the Avatar of Pride. He surely must think you're a fool.

Squeezing your eyes shut tighter, you clung to him, scolding yourself for being such a mess. Your thoughts were mean- some down right abusive- as you chastised your inability to save face, and questioning your worth to the man who always sacrificed so much for you- and for what? So you can have a breakdown in his arms; blubbering incoherently because you can't place why you're just so fucking sad.

"I'm...I'm sorry..." your voice cracks as you mutter out the words into his chest. "I'm sorry..."

"It's alright, there's no reason to apologize." He cooed, barely resting his chin atop your head. "We needn't discuss what's causing your heartache right this instant. Take all the time you need."

He contunued rubbing circles into your back, rocking you ever-so gently side-to-side. Its during times like this that he wonders how you would feel if you could read his thoughts. Clearly, your lowly opion of yourself was projected onto him, while he saw you as his entire world. If you were hurting, then he was too. If he could, he would bring all three realms to their knees in order to protect you, and he wanted so desperately for you to believe that. He knew that after going so much of your life feeling nothing but animosity toward yourself would result in this knowledge taking a significant amount of time to seep in...but the desperation he felt in needing you to see what he saw when he looked at you was immense. Just once, he wished he could show you how much you meant to him- and to his family, as well. And he internally cursed the individual or individuals who made you believe you were worthless.

He took a shallow breath, humming contently as he gripped you tighter. For now, he needed to push that aside. What mattered now was that you needed him, no matter the reason. And when you needed him, he was there.

Always.

[julietsbb]

julie <3 i am here to give your last three updates love. once again, vampire phuwin au is my salvation. in the nights you update, i live.

oki, so. i waited to see how their conflict concludes before i sent you an ask. (i can't communicate properly on twt because that account has a lot of history and i'd rather not use it much. contemplating making one from scratch so i can quote you my madness for every update properly)

but i also enjoy sending you unhinged asks here, ngl.

okay, back to what's important. the conflict was so nice to see. because, you know, i felt throughout the story that there's this (understandable) carefulness in phuwin. even when he would let go for a few seconds or during feeding, his manner of speech and his actions still express it so loudly. mindfulness for pond to be alright, for everything to be consensual and for phuwin to not /slip/, almost.

like i said, very understandable. he's battling with understanding how much he enjoys certain (bloody, you could say) aspects of this deal they have, and not ruining things with pond. because he cares so much for pond, right? he wants him to be happy, always. pond comes first before everything for phuwin, it feels. even feeding. (this is my dedulu ass just rambling to you my understanding of your writing, some interpretations. i just feel like there's a lot expressed in your narration.)

point is: to see pond go through that tumult of thinking that phuwin found it disgusting - by proxy found /him/ disgusting for being so into it. having a breakdown; actually, breaking down. and then transition into something almost intolerant of phuwin's carefulness, was absolutely wonderful.

like, let me explain a bit more. the way you write pond: he's so sweet, so pliant under phuwin's needs, his rules in their deal. he's so understanding and so quick to comply to what phuwin thinks is best.

that's what i got from him. so to see him be stern, to see him say "can you stop assuming how i feel?" to see him put his foot down in the face of phuwin's overthinking and fears was glorious. you see another side to him. it's clear that their morning talk was horrible for him (for both of them, but i talked about phuwin a little bit before, so I'm focusing on pond now) and he doesn't want a repeat of it, wants to be as clear as possible. wants phuwin to get it, to maybe even /let go./

and then comes phuwin's turn to listen and comply and accept pond's requests and JUST *GRIPS HAIR* their communication is 1000000000/10. Even if they go through it, suffer a bit, they succeed in making things alright in the best way.

also, side note. phuwin thinking 'it's always nice' about pond being shirtless was just sjfhsfhs the obvious gay thoughts are amazing. he's so whipped he thinks it's all normal. thinking your friend's chest is nice is normal homie behavior, you're right phuwin.

overall awesomeness. all three updates had me as entranced as ever. the healing kisses in the elevator had me gagged. it's interesting how you can still spot so vividly phuwin's apprehensiveness/careful nature in it.

can't wait to see how they develop after these talks they had. how the feeding will go. once again, thank you for writing this wonderful au and thank you for letting me be delulu about your ppw au.

i am very tired today because i woke at 4am for no goddamn reason so this ask made me emotional T_T <3

I love when people qrt their reactions to the updates on the megathread of doom (don't want to think about how mant tweets 102 google docs pages are.....) BUT I also really really fucking love and adore your asks so DO WHATEVER YOU WANT it's a win/win for me!!

AAAHHHH i love your take and how you view phuwin so much because like that was his starting point like POND IS WILLING TO GIVE ME THIS??!?!!?!?!?! must treasure must be worthy wow wtf and now i'm discovering there's not only annoying parts to this major part of my identity? this aspect of myself and my life is something i can enjoy??? wow pond is magic. basically. so he's just so pathetically grateful but also so aware of, like, HOW TO BE WORTHY OF IT, basically. silk gloves for pond. i'm so glad that's coming through <3

which just makes him dealing with his sudden suppressed urge to hurt rearing its "ugly" head that much harder, like, he's so certain about this but suddenly his body and his yearning is attempting to tell him the opposite? like it's so unthinkable it's how he could be in denial about it for so long, which is a big part of what ends up hurting pond.

I am so fucking glad pond's transition in this conflict worked for you because they've both developed so much re: each other already in this that my brain is like "what is even in character anymore?" and it's not like we have any points of reference to pond standing up to phuwin in any way, but like, i knew pond having that shift was NECESSARY for them and their relationship to work, like it felt right. pond is a sweetheart and pond accommodates, but i also don't feel like he's someone who would just let others walk all over him after they've hurt him. thankfully, we've seen stand up to the stalkers now for instance. my point being: i was writing it and it felt right as i was doing so and it was needed to push them to a better place, but if i asked myself 'how would pond handle this' my answer would be '???' but one thing we DO know is how much phuwin values and appreciates honesty and pond knows that too, so one thing I could see pond do is cling to that, phuwin begged him to speak on the bathroom floor and pond knows phuwin values truth and directness, so i could see him cling to that aspect as a way forward.

'can you stop assuming how i feel' came to me in the middle of doing something else, i was probably biking to work or something, so i had to open my note doc on my phone to jut it down and not forget, because i felt it was the key cause of their miscommunication, because phuwin was so set in his conviction of how he was supposed to threat pond with this that he... forgot to ask pond about it lol so as i was writing that scene it was very "okay so how do i work their conversation from where they are to pond interrupting with that without it seeming forced" 😂

ye i made a point of phuwin folding completely to pond from that point on and show that like.... if phuwin CONSULTS POND they can actually find compromises that work better for both of them together. i also needed phuwin to see that. like, pw, you CAN do things differently than you thought you were supposed to and they WORK. it was important for me to showcase them trying to maneuver that new ground, of being in it together.

"he's so whipped he thinks it's all normal." PRECISELY yes thank you - as i said to alan on twitter, he goes from 'passively easy-to-ignore into dudes' to 'actually actively into one particular dude because suddenly their bond and intimacy have rapidly tightened and he's seen him in a completely new light so everything is the same but different'

oh the healing lift kisses were tough for me to write because they were both so conflicted about them. both knew it had to be done but there was no chance to communicate/get on the same page about it first. but also the act itself is something they are kinda both enjoying despite themselves? like neither of them wants to be into it at that moment but it's a) closeness after their fallout, which they both crave and b) an act they're so used to enjoying, their bodies are hardwired to respond somehow to it, even if just a tiny bit. so trying to somehow get the balance of 'this is kinda sexy but also really not, because we don't want it to be, neither of us do, but it's also YOU and CLOSE and THIS THING WE BOTH LIKE but also our interpersonal relationship is still relatively rocky at this point, like, you're on my neck and it feels nice and i both do and very much do not want it for multiple reasons also i'm still kinda pissed at you. and then only from pw pov and i had to convey pond's side entirely through the reactions phuwin were privy toobecause i couldn't even describe pond's face because pw's face was in his neck skdhskflhsl no idea if i succeeded but i'm glad you mentioned it!!

there's no 'letting' about it pls always delulu about my ppw au i think at this point i might just turn to dust without it T_T