#;; even if writing feels like a chore. its still something i enjoy.

[navxry]

Hi! Former reader from your writing blog, I just saw you had a main account here after you left. How did you develop your writing style?

Hiiiiii, as for that, I think that's. a bit of a lengthy answer so. uh. let me just put this on a 'read more' before you start wondering why its long hehe

I'm going to be realistic here and say my writing style isn't exactly something I can say that's 'developed'. After all, any signs of me actually writing for real (or, rather, for fun) started in my Undertale phase (2016 - 2018) and it was for an AU.

(Don't look it up, because it is bad. Gastertale I love you, but... 2016 - 2018 Navi didn't do you justice. I'm sorry.)

I think back then it was... Really rough around the edges. Overuse of caps, punctuations, things you'd see in a novice writer. Actually, I only wrote for it back then because I was so invested in the fic, and when the main author said they wanted help from a co-author, I jumped at the chance.

Back then... Writing was something I do for fun. Something to not take seriously. Something that I can simply drop because it's just words on a paper, or in this case, on a digital book.

But when I began to write for that book, people began to.. Love it. They were commenting, some yelling at my choices, others celebrating and giving me compliments for my writing. It made me feel warm, happy; it made me feel that, despite my writing style not being on par, people love it as is. Flawed as it may be, it had character, and I think that's what gets people to enjoy it so much.

It's genuinely something you can look back on and go, "this kid doesn't know how to write well, but they're enjoying it".

I think after that, I began to branch off and write for more books and fics. I actually started in Quotev (shocker, haha!), and one of the fics I starter were just co-authoring Undertale ones. "MINE" was one of them (a Chara x reader one-shot collection), and its funny looking back on it.

Then there was "This is my world", "Life in the Underground", "My World", "How...", "Puns and Laughs", (embarrassingly but funny on hindsight, don't laugh at 2018 Navi here) "Human! FNAF Boyfriend Scenarios" (2 million reads!! Let's go 2018 Navi!!), "Ocean Eyes", "It's Complicated", and finally, my recent works since 2021, "Deception of the Abyss" and "Poisonous Thorns".

I became a co-author and an author for majority of them (the exception being the boyfriend scenarios, I was an editor), but I remember loving to write. I remember fondly on how I'd look at what people are saying, how they're commenting, and what they have to think about each chapter. It wasn't much now, but back then... It was more than I can ask for.

Hell, it even pushed to greater heights because I took it to a new form: roleplaying. Even back in my Undertale phase, I was roleplaying with a few people, and I made friends that way. Sure, some weren't great (my ocs especially, they're hella broken), but it was fun. My fun. It was also how I met some of my long time friends too (hi, Fifi!)

But then... Life happens. Things change, and suddenly, I'm not the same as I used to be.

I remember checking on my old works and then going "huh... things changed. And my writing... doesn't feel the same."

I remember getting on Tumblr because of Food Fantasy (2019 I believe? Or was it 2020...), and being friends with a few people that, on hindsight, I shouldn't be associated with. I remember being involved in drama, in consuming other people's works, becoming the reader that would talk about them to the author and even down to reblogging some.

There were ups and downs, and yes, I still remember them. I remember how it made me enjoy so much of other people's content, and how it made them feel. I remember so fondly of seeing people so... Active.

That... Unfortunately changed when I left Tumblr.

I won't get into what made me leave the first time. It was just... A sudden change that I couldn't put to words. So much in my life happened, so much stress, it began to affect me and how I see myself. It began to affect how I see in writing, how I began to disassociate and pull away from it. Hell, it even made me dislike running ask blogs, because both of my passions couldn't bring me out of that stump.

For the first time, I felt.. Really dissatisfied. Like something I did just won't fix it.

So I left.

I took a break for a while, which helped me see things differently. It was still too much for me to handle back then, but it felt easier. And when I returned, I had done a few changes: ask blogs were put in either archives or hiatus/es, new ones began, old ones were discarded...

I even started running @oletus-manors-log back then because I was in a constant state of returning and leaving. I remember how I only started the blog because I thought, "hey, my writing changed and improve. I might as well do something worthwhile."

And... That's where I met a few of my friends. Yuu was one of them (hi, Yuu!), and it made me remember how it felt... Nice to have someone see them. Requests weren't a lot back there, but it was fine—it feels the same as it used to.

Though, during that time, things.. Changed.

I think my feelings with writing is the same as I felt back at my first rut. If anything, me leaving and returning made me slowly realize that there was one thing that changed.

User interactions... Were smaller than I remember.

I wasn't okay when I returned. I still feel that way, and even with that blog, that grew into something bigger.

In some days, I began to doubt myself, and my ability to even write. There were even moments that I felt that my ability isn't even on par with what I did in 2016 - 2018, where it was fueled by my own feelings, my passion, and what makes me me. It made me dislike myself because it feels like, little by little, I'm unlearning about myself.

I LITERALLY could not sit down and write in my drafts without thinking, "why do people bother to stick around anymore? what do they see in my works? what do they see that they enjoy, when I can't see it myself?"

I think those years were my best, and even if I was critical of my writing style, it wasn't bad. It was fun. It was something I enjoyed.

So… What happened? What made me dislike writing so much?

Truthfully... I don't know. I don't know what made me detest it.

But I think I have a few thoughts. An assumption or two, I guess. And I think its because I rely so heavily onto what others see in my works that it... Bled into what made me me. It bled into my life, my expectations, my own self-worth.

In my venture to get better, to return to the hobby I loved, I became my biggest critic, my worst nightmare, and the flame that snuffed my passion.

I know you used to read my works, but there were so much I put that many ignored. My old writing blog (sfw) for genshin was an example. I used to write for SFW (aka @dxy-drxxm), but it stopped because I noticed so little were seeing it.

I noticed that so little bothered to say something about how they liked my works. My style. It began to eat at me and make me think that what I did isn't enough. That my own drive isn't enough.

I tried it over and over with different characters. With different plotlines. With different AUs. Hell, in EBG hosted by a friend of mine, I had it based off of IdentityV, which I loved.

But... No one see it that way. No one bothered to tell me the things I wanted to hear.

So... I stopped writing.

I thought no one actually cared. I still do, unfortunately. It was how I also saw my recently archived writing blog, which was @yxstxrdrxxm-a. Don't get me wrong, I do not regret meeting my friends there. I don't regret meeting Brynn, Jessamine, Avalon, Harmony, Yuu, Fifi, Cal, Tae, and many more of my mutuals. I don't regret becoming a writer, because if I didn't, I'd never meet the wonderful people I know now.

But...

Engagement is... A slippery slope. One that can take you so deep to your darkest thoughts. Some that make you question if you're human. Some that make you wonder if you're a machine to others. Some that make you truly think, "do I deserve this fame? when no one tells me what I achieved?"

I still have those thoughts sometimes. I still think... I'm not. You know. Worthy of everything.

I think, if I put this in an MV, Beaver comes to mind. There's so much that makes it feel that I can relate to it. The shots, the lyrics... It made me feel that I was heard in that video.

It's stupid. I'm aware. But... It's the only thing that made me go "god, this is me."

I think, in that regard... I don't know how I feel with writing still. I don't know how I feel with my works. After leaving those blogs, after ditching them because I feel worthless, I'm at a standstill.

...

I'll be real with you, anon.

I don't know if I can rekindle my unbridled passion for writing anymore.

I don't know if people can still see the same passion that my younger self did. And I wish, for once, someone could.

The biggest irony is... I have experienced what's called an 'artist effect'. Don't know the term? Here's what it means:

Artist Effect Where an artist is only recognized once they are gone, usually by death.

... Do you know the saying, "An artist is only appreciated after he is dead"? If so, this is what it means.

When I left, I left tumblr. I left that space for a good while because I was at my lowest. I thought no one will recognize what I've done, and only my friends will. I coined that term because it feels right. It's something I experienced, simply because I was focusing on the wrong thing.

Fame is nothing to me now, though. I don't desire to be famous of my writing. Don't take what I say as though I'm chasing for attention from readers; that's not what I want you to take away from this.

I refuse to return to that thinking. After all, it's specifically that thought that ruined me.

Nowadays, I'm... At that standstill. At the fork in the road, so to say. I don't even know if I can return to loving myself, and my works. I've spilled my guts so much in them, it feels a part of me has been torn bit by bit. And if people won't appreciate them, then that is the truth of the matter.

Maybe I'm too much of a pessimist, but... Such is life. People only see writers as machines and content creators, but I saw each of my works as pieces of myself that I've spilled.

A starving artist fits me better, I guess. But maybe, someday... Things will change. And maybe I'll love it again, just like what 2016 - 2018 Navi did.

I don't think this answered your question, and for that, I apologize. I'm not... Used to being completely honest about myself. There's so many things I need to resolve, demons I have to fight, and I think this will never be over for me.

What is helping me little by little was my friends. They are the ones that keep my passion ignited, even for just a little longer. If I didn't meet the people that would tell me I'm more than what I do, that I shouldn't pursue the thing that'll ruin me, I wouldn't be here now.

So, I hope from this answer, you understand how I see things. Although my reasoning can be rather out there, I know some also feel the same as I do with theirs. And I hope that they feel validated, in some way.

Because chasing for something as fleeting as 'engagement' will ruin them, just like how it almost ruined me.

[newtkive]

confectionary clash - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)

summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!

as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.

that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.

carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.

on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it’s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.

richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.

richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.

now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.

it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.

except on days like this.

you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.

upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.

“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.

you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.

“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.

“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.

“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.

a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.

as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.

richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.

a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.

“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.

__

in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.

"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.

"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.

“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.

“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.

your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.

richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.

richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.

“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.

richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.

“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.

however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.

with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.

outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.

the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.

turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.

throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.

“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”

“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“

“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”

“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.

carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”

“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”

an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”

“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.

“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.

you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind

“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.

a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.

the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.

“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”

“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.

your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.

carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.

“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.

“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.

“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.

nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.

it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.

you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.

with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.

you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”

the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.

thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.

“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.

[504py]

A day in a life with Ivan. [ONESHOT]

Warnings below the cut 。。。

⚠️ NSFW, yandere content, alcoholism, reader got tradwifed, stockholm syndrome, domestic violence, Ivan is very blatantly sadistic, size difference, dacryphilia, vague breeding kink, no use of Y/N, forced feminization(?), gender neutral reader.

hey yawll!! i drew this since i wanted to play more with the painting style and color palette i did in my last post, but since i hit 800 followers recently, i decided to write something to go along with it too!

thank you guys so so much for putting up with my bs and enjoying the slop i create LOL. hopefully this will be enough to thank you all and to satiate you guys till i come back from hibernation again 🩵🙏

also!! while this is a gender neutral reader, ivan still refers to you as a housewife. this is pretty much an extension of the headcanon post i did on him.

MAN I NEED TO RECONNECT WITH NATURE AFTER THIS 😭😭😭

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

The average heart rate of a rabbit is a hundred and eighty beats per minute. Much, much faster than a human's at only a hundred, the little hearts of rabbits pump virile blood into their vulnerable bodies in order to outrun the cursed life of a prey animal they have no choice but to live.

Living with Ivan feels the exact same way. You, a human, were reduced to nothing but a prey animal whose only line of defense was either freeze or flight. Ivan prefers the freeze response. Tries to squeeze it out of you as much as he can.

The morning begins normally. You wake up next to his large, minimally clothed body, while you're bundled up as much as physically possible. You don't understand how he's so comfortable in the cold, but you've learned not to liken him to humans. You gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. It takes a while for Ivan to wake up, he's a heavy sleeper, but when his violet eyes finally open and dilate at the sight of you, the first thing he does is smile and pull you in to trap you in a strong bear hug. Don't struggle, he'll just tighten his grip. Then he kisses your cheek, and just holds you there without saying anything. He'll grumble a little when you tell him you have to leave bed to make breakfast, but he eventually will let you go.

It's a little sick how your current living situation makes chores the best part of your day, given how it allows the most proximity between you and Ivan. Cooking in the early morning is your favorite, since it takes Ivan a long time to recover from his hibernation. Thinking about what to cook is a bit of a meditative process as well, allows you to think thoroughly about anything other than your way of life and the man keeping you here.

Today, you decided to make something simple and similar to something you ate growing up. Luckily, Ivan is not a picky eater, even though he rather obviously prefers Slavic food. He'll eat whatever you make happily, but he'll be in even better spirits if you make something familiar to him.

You do not cook in silence. Silence has quickly become one of your biggest pet peeves since your captivity, and you do anything to drown it out. This damn empty mansion, the way Ivan is so terrible with his words and chooses instead to crush you with his actions, the bleak snowy landscape that greets you if you dare try and find any solace outside of this cage and your captor– It's enough to drive anyone insane. So, you pass the days by drowning out your thoughts with music and movies.

Ivan doesn't allow you a cellphone, or anything remotely modern at all. His home has a terrifying dedication to being so analog, you'd think you'd been transported to the 90's if not for the TV with a few streaming services on it, the only modern piece of technology he allows. He likes to collect cameras, radios, and old phones. Ivan's menagerie of antique goods is so expansive that it earned itself its own room. It's almost like a small museum, and you're very glad he allows you to look at and touch them as you pleased– with care, of course. He can actually be rather charming when he acts as your "museum guide" in this room. One of the few times you find yourself thinking anything remotely positive about him.

Ivan's voice is soft, it always is, but when he talks about these things he's so passionate about and so engrossed in, it takes on a bit more of a stern, confident tone that is easier for you to listen to. And when he's looking at the objects he's explaining, you can admire his side profile more openly. He's caught you multiple times (he has surprisingly sharp senses), and you're met with a flustered smile instead of the usual so-sweet-to-the-point-it-looks-fake type of smile.

"What are you looking at?" He'd ask, his voice quieting back down to that syrupy tone.

"Just you." You'd reply, which makes him pause in surprise for a second, before it earns a soft giggle from the towering man.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Vanya." The nickname makes him melt. "You just looked pretty."

The smile falls from his face, and his cheeks redden even more than you thought possible, before his grin returns tenfold. He laughs and looks away.

The memory of such interactions make you feel like buttering up to the man instead of rejecting him so much, then you realize you're just describing stockholm syndrome. As crazy as it is, it feels like, at this point, it'd be better to let it happen than to be aware and hateful every day you live here.

As if your thoughts had alerted him, you hear Ivan's deceptively soft footsteps descend the stairs. He doesn't say anything, and just makes his way to the kitchen to watch you.

He's dressed in more clothing now, a dark blue sweater and gray sweatpants. His neck is left bare around you. When you first met him, his clothing that purposefully covers his neck always went unnoticed by you, because such clothes fit him so well, like they were always meant to be there. It was only after your capture, when he took off his scarf and you saw the bandages around his pale neck did you start to question it.

You've never outright asked him, you worry the subject is too volatile. He just... decided to stop hiding it one day. It was after a shower when you first saw it, the ligature marks around his neck and a few faded pink scars on the front of his adam's apple. Ivan noticed you staring, and you've never seen him look so small and insecure before.

"Is it bad?"

"No." You shake your head. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

And that was that.

You finish plating up two dishes, one with a significantly heftier portion than yours considering how much he eats. You quickly place the chopping board and all the pans you used in the sink to wash later, and you bring the dishes to the table.

Ivan yawns, rubs at his eyes, and without much event, just picks up a knife and a fork and starts eating. You do the same only after fetching some tea from the samovar.

Breakfast is always quiet besides the background noise of whatever media you chose to play.

"Mm. Ёжик в тумaне?"

"Yeah. I like this one."

"A little somber, isn't it?"

"The hedgehog is cute. I relate to it a little bit."

Ivan takes his eyes off of the television to look at you, and ponders what you said a little more. He doesn't say anything, and continues eating.

"What will you be doing today?" You ask, in case you needed to iron some clothing or prepare extra food for guests.

He hums in thought for a moment. "I'll be going out in the evening to drink with the other nations."

"What will you be wearing?"

"What I usually do."

You nod, "I'll have it ready soon."

"What about you?" He asks.

"Hmm... I'll wash the dishes, then iron and press your clothing. After that, I'll think of what to cook for lunch while cleaning the house, and I'll prepare a meal for you before you leave. Then while you're away, I'll clean up some more and prepare dinner. And if I have some time, I'll sit and watch some more movies."

Ivan hums in satisfaction. He enjoys how strict to routine your lives were. Familiarity and stability are what he desires most, and he believes you're the only one who can grant him that wish.

"Perfect." He smiles, petting the crown of your head with a large, broad hand.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You adjust the dusty pink scarf around his thick neck after finishing wrapping the scars on his throat with bandages. You do it neatly and comfortably, as opposed to how Ivan does, quickly and efficiently, learned from decades of routine, yet it's still so much more uncomfortable compared to when you do it.

"How is it?" You ask. Ivan replies by taking your smaller hands in his and leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"You do it perfectly, любовь моя." He sighs, before pouting slightly. "I wish I could just stay home."

"You'll be alright, Vanya. Alcohol is like water to you anyways."

He snickers and rolls his eyes. "That just means it'll be boring for me, then."

"Just try to have fun and relax. I'll be safe and quiet here."

A mousy smile appears on his pink lips. You've said exactly what he wants to hear. "Alright. I'll just get it over with." He presses one last kiss to the top of your hair before leaving.

"Don't cause any trouble!" Ivan sings, before exiting the living room and closing the door behind him. You get a glimpse of the blindingly white outside world, and a gust of stinging cold air brushes against your skin like a warning.

You let out a taut breath, finally feeling like you're able to breathe without his crushing presence. You dust off your hands, from nothing in particular, before going off to do just as you said to him earlier. It bothers you how much he still affects you without even being around.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The sky is dark, and all that is heard is the droning of soft music and the burbling of something boiling on the stove. Its tranquility is broken by the door opening with more aggression than usual.

"Vanya?" You call out, hoping the sweet usage of his nickname would quell whatever spawned this roughness within him.

All you hear is something vaguely resembling a groan and a sigh, and his heavy, thudding footsteps. Your heart starts to race a little.

"Is something wrong, Vanya?" You ask meekly, approaching him with caution. He reeks of alcohol, and his movements seem all sluggish. Jesus, how much did Russia of all people need to drink in order to get this wasted?

"I'm alright." He huffs, taking off his gloves and his coat with slight difficulty. You step in closer to help him undress, taking off his scarf. You don't miss how he tenses up, so you freeze and meet his constantly intense stare to gauge his expression. His eyelids are low, pupils contracted, eyes darker than usual, and cheeks flushed like they always are. He seems to be pouting a bit. He doesn't do much else, so you continue, stripping him of his large overcoat. All he's left in now is a black sweater and thick brown slacks.

"I've made dinner. You can just sit wherever you want and I'll bring it to you–"

Ivan leans in so quickly, you couldn't even register it in order to dodge or deflect his kiss in time. This time, it lands on your lips. He doesn't do this usually at all, unless he was planning something. The blood drains from your face when his large hand finds the back of your neck, and holds it stiff, preventing any chance of backing out.

His skin and the inside of his mouth are impossibly warm, and the bitter, sterile taste of vodka is the only damn thing invading your senses. You grip the fabric of his knitted sweater, it makes him part from your lips to pant like a dog and take said piece of clothing off, now left in a dark gray shirt.

"V-Va– You taste like alcohol–"

"Get drunk off of me." He whispers, before grabbing the sides of your arms and kissing you tongue first, lapping at your lips, and at this point, you learned better than to deny him. With all the mental fortitude you could muster, you rigidly part your lips. Despite all your efforts to be as pliant as possible to try and guarantee your safety, you can't help the shiver of revulsion when his tongue invades your mouth like a parasite and rubs against yours.

It feels like time slows down, you can feel the milliseconds before your instincts kick in, and each millisecond feels like a year of dread. Unable to stop raw instinct, you bite down.

Your heart stops when you hear him grunt, and feel his grip around your arms tighten before he shoves you away. He gasps, cursing under his breath in his mother tongue before setting his sights back on you.

Doe-eyed and trembling like a leaf in a hurricane, you begin to plead.

"N-No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. Vanya, please–"

He approaches, kicks the back of your knees, before you are grabbed by the scruff of your shirt. The collar of your blouse is yanked back and presses the fabric tightly against your throat as he drags you to the front door. You're coughing and struggling to regain your footing, and the moment you can breathe, you beg.

"Please! Nonono– Vanya please don't do this I'll be good–" The words tumble out like unorganized clutter using the one short breath you were able to catch.

With one more harsh tug, you fall to your knees again, and the door opens. The sight of the snow immediately triggers something within you, and you begin sobbing.

Ivan takes a peak at you, seemingly taking pity.

"Only for a few minutes."

You shake your head in a frenzy, not believing a word he says. Even if he was saying the truth, you'd much rather continue to humiliate yourself over being outside for even a few seconds. What if he forgets about you? What if that door never opens again? What if you die a miserable death, separated from your survival by just a few inches of wood?

That's why, the moment he throws you out, you scramble to your feet and shove that damned door open before he can fully close it. You know you're in deeper shit when you hear the door slam against him, and the deep yelp that follows it. You run for your life into the confines of his house.

You quickly make way to one of the bathrooms, the only rooms in the house you're still able to lock from the inside. You knew even that meant nothing, since you're sure Ivan could and would break them down without a second thought. Yet, it was still your best shot.

You lock the bathroom door and sit on the flooring right next to it. You try to calm down your heartrate and your heaving so you could try and listen in on whatever was going on outside this room.

Eerie silence is what greets you. You hate it, hate it so much. Shuddering, you hold your breath and strain your ears just a little more.

And that's when you hear it.

Soft footsteps.

You have to bite back a scream from how much raw fear that little sound sends shooting through your nervous system. Makes your skin crawl so bad that it almost hurts.

Ivan's clearly not in any rush, but FUCK did you wish he'd just get it over with and sprint right at you. You're sure he knows where you are, he just likes to freak you out, you can tell. That sweet smile he always puts on is nothing short of sadistic, constantly has this look in his eyes, some kinda weird sparkle that tells you he enjoys watching you struggle beneath him. Knowing you'll be face to face with those very eyes shortly makes your ribs squeeze around your quaking lungs and heart.

The footsteps approach. You brace yourself for a rough kick to the door or a pipe slamming through it.

Instead, he knocks. This was wrong, what was happening? Oh, god, this was so much worse.

"I won't ask again."

Scrambling to the door, not even sparing any time to actually stand up, you open it. You wince when you strain your neck to look up and see the damage done to him by your outburst. A nasty, bloody bruise on the bridge of his tall nose and that same crimson liquid streaming down his nostril. Your chest shakes like a dying sparrow's.

"I-I'm sorry. Please."

And he smiles.

Ivan is actually, genuinely, extremely pleased right now. He's wanted this all along, for you to fear the outside world so much you'd do anything in the world to stay here, right by his side. He doesn't give a single shit about the injuries you've caused him now and in the past, he's strong, he can take it, and he'll always forgive you over and over again. Of course, it makes him annoyed, because what good housewife would beat their husband like that? But he understands that your circumstances aren't exactly normal, so he'll endure it with irritation. At the rate he's breaking you in, though, you'll soon be as pliant and obedient as he expects you to be. Perhaps you'll even start to love him back. Just the thought of it raises goosebumps on his porcelain skin and makes his hands tremble in excitement.

You don't understand why he's giggling right now.

He sighs your name, and crouches down to meet your stare. You flinch as a droplet of blood hits the tiles. Ivan's grin only widens when your shaking hands reach for his face and try to wipe the blood away.

"O-Oh, Ivan," You whine uselessly, getting up on boneless legs to grab the first-aid kit. He watches with bright, amused eyes. He knows you won't try anything anymore. He's confident in your compliance to him.

As carefully as you can, you wipe off the blood with paper towels, crying harder when it smears instead of going away completely like you'd hoped. It felt like your mistakes were going to be impossible to fix.

Ivan's cheery gaze never falters. Maybe this is the happiest you've ever seen him, despite the blood streaming into the gaps of his teeth and forming a grotesque image. Dusty eyelashes frame his smiley crescent moon eyes, cheeks ruddy as little alcohol-stained puffs of air pollute the cold atmosphere. You jolt when he chuckles throatily.

"What's wrong?" His voice is as sickly sweet as it always is.

"Y-You're mad– I made you mad. I'm sorry." You choke on your own words, trying your best not to drop the bottle of disinfectant in your weak hand.

"What did you do?"

"I–" You hiccup, "I d-didn't– I didn't listen to you. I wasn't good."

Unable to hide his pleasure, he laughs and leans in to give you a chaste, bloody kiss.

"It will be okay. I love you."

You're glad your crying masks the gag reflex that almost makes itself apparent when you know what you have to say next. You steel your nerves and dryly swallow the taste of Ivan's blood.

"I love– I love you too."

He gives you a pleased, closed-mouth smile, and presses a kiss to the top of your head before taking the bottle of disinfectant from you. He begins to tend to his own wounds.

"This does not mean I forgive you, though."

Just as you felt your whole world crashing down around you, Ivan saves you.

He breathes out a laugh, "No, I won't throw you outside again. It's much better staying inside with me, yes?"

You nod in a frenzy. "Yes! Y-Yes, much better. Please don't."

"Well," Ivan prefaces, disinfecting the cut on his nose before placing a bandaid on it. He turns his head to the side and spits out the blood left in his mouth. "You will have to tend to this wound. Kiss it better." And before you could even wonder what he meant by that, his tongue lolls out, brandishing the red bite mark from earlier.

Disgust registers for only a second.

Like an automaton made solely to serve, you lean forward, grasp onto his biceps, and press a needy, desperate kiss to his drooling tongue. He laughs while you lap at his tongue like a wounded dog, warm, alcoholic breaths brushing against your face.

After relishing in the feeling of your worship for a little longer, he gently pushes you to the ground and crawls over your jittery body, placing a hand against the small of your back to hold you up and closer to him, with the other gripping the outside of your thigh.

"You will not bite me this time?"

Nodding fearfully, praying the conviction in your eyes will be enough to warrant his forgiveness, you wrap your arms around his neck.

Sighing happily, he presses his cold lips against yours, taking the lead happily as he moans into the kiss. The sound was more out of the satisfaction of establishing his dominance rather than the actual physical pleasure.

Ivan doesn't usually indulge in sexual fantasies or acts, which surprises you considering how touchy the man is. His mind usually favors daydreams of a stable, domestic life with you. Ivan prioritizes establishing your relationship over anything else, so he doesn't really find the time to lull over menial things like sex. Marriage is one thing, but your total submission is another.

Then again, this doesn't mean that he fully doesn't have any carnal desires when it comes to you. It's you, for christ's sake. When his fantasies of dominance come into play, it seems only obvious that sometimes his thoughts wander into the bedroom.

Ivan fantasizes a lot about having you desire him as much as he does you. He wants you to need him like air. Wants to have you mewling his name and clinging to him like your life depended on it, which would quite literally be the case right now. Wants to see your pretty, pretty tears reserved only for him. Wants to see you fall apart in his arms over and over again while comforting you so meanly and kissing your crying face.

Ivan tries his best to not let these thoughts make themselves apparent, but fuck, do you make it so hard sometimes. How could any man not be affected by the sight of their adorable little housewife in an apron? Takes so much for him to not just grab you by your hair and bend you over the counter. Whenever you cry for whatever reason, he almost feels guilty over how instantly horny it makes him. Almost feels guilty when all he can think about is licking those tears off of your face and making himself the cause of them. God, he wants to play the role of a nice doting husband so bad, but he can't help but feel you up and breathe down your neck when you try on the dresses and lingerie he buys for you. He can't help grabbing your waist and pressing his erection against your ass– not on purpose, he just wanted to be close to you.

While aggressive in his approach, Ivan never forces any sexual acts that you refuse. Even if he's left high and breathing heavy, he still wants to be someone you don't completely hate. Be a good husband, be a good husband. He always chants to himself. All his prayers proved fruitful when he quite literally cried tears of joy during your first time together.

Ivan doesn't know what was different that day, he didn't expect anything, just to make out and have you reject him after a bit, but you just... kept going, until he was ramming into you, hands tight around your sweaty waist and fucking into you like you were just a fleshlight. He's never seen himself like this, moaning and gasping like a girl and feeling so fucking good that all that he wanted– all that he could think of was breeding you like a bull and how beautiful your family would be. God, the memory of you struggling, doing your best to take his thick cock and crying so cutely just trying to bottom out is engraved into the grooves of his brain. It makes his stomach feel all warm whenever he thinks of it. He wants to carve it under his eyelids so he can see it every time he blinks.

Ivan laughs a lot during sex, call him creepy, it's genuinely because he is just so damn happy that he can't hide it. Why should he hide it from you? He wants to show you just how much he loves you and how good you make him feel. You make him feel so damn happy and complete that all he could do was chant IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou– while whimpering, giggling, his tears dripping onto your face.

Maybe he'll get lucky again.

Without parting, Ivan carefully lowers your back to the tiled floor, straddling your body and snaking his long fingers under your blouse, resting them against your heated abdomen. He smiles into the kiss when you jolt away, tickled by how frigid they are.

The ends of his feathered gray hair tickles your wet face, your body shivering at all the different sensations attacking you simultaneously. The cold tiles, his freezing hands, his hot tongue, the faint taste of blood, the warm drool seeping out the side of your mouth, his arid breathing, the smell of alcohol–

Your hands, still by the back of his neck, reach up to ever-so-slightly tug at his hair to signal you needed a breather. Ivan makes a small noise of surprise, before pulling away.

He looks absolutely dazed, lips shiny with remnants of a spit trail, and lavender eyes heavy and glazed over with a feral lust. His breathing is labored, muscular chest rising and falling as he intently watches every minute expression your face makes. Despite the blatant lack of nudity, this might be the most erotic sight you've ever seen. Fuck, why does he have to look so good when you're supposed to hate him?

Right now, you were so exhausted you couldn't even remember what reason you'd have to hate him, despite there being enough that you could spend the rest of your life listing all of them down.

And just when you try to refuse by backing up, your thigh brushes against his boner and he lets out the most heated, breathy, shivery moan you've ever heard. The vocalization sounded like it was tailor-made to tantalize you, to tempt you into biting the fruit. And you know what? You were a sinner anyways.

"Bed– B-Bedroom."

A toothy grin appears on Ivan's face, and he exhales a breathy laugh. He looks absolutely delighted, and starved.

Without a second thought, he picks you up, and carries you to the closest one.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The next morning begins normally. Your body is sore, and covered in bite marks. That was one of the best sleeps you've had in recent memory. Ivan seems to think so, too, with his arms cradling your torso and a hand resting over your lower abdomen. The ache reminds you about what happened yesterday, you can still feel him in there somehow.

You woke up a little later in the morning compared to usual. Since you're still a little too exhausted to get up and begin cooking, you lay there for a while, listening to the quiet howling of the wind outside. You wonder when was the last time you heard any birds chirping.

Thinking of the outside world brings you a bit of dread, don't really like doing it. But when your life is so isolated and so alone, misery can become a form of entertainment.

The more and more days go by, the more and more do you forget what your life was like before meeting the Russian. The longer you live with Ivan, the more does it feel that he was just always there, and that your life before meeting him was a falsified memory. You're not even sure how much time has passed since, it's always snowing outside, every day feels the same.

That's the one thing you remember from before this life, the feeling of warmth. You're not sure you remember the feeling of it, really, but you're well aware of the absence it leaves behind. Maybe when spring finally comes around, you can open that door, and...

Eyebrows furrowing as a migraine starts to set in, you shake your head weakly. You didn't like thinking about the outside.

Turning over to face Ivan, you gently wake him up before you leave the bed– you learned that he doesn't like waking up to an empty bed without any prior notice. He eventually stirs from his sleep, hugs you, and you do not struggle.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

[rileyslibrary]

may i request ghost seeing reader making something (maybe a get well soon card or a papercrane or sth idk) and then someone accidentally ruining it? like how would he react? what would he do next etc

doesnt have to be a fic if you decide to write it, could be bulletpoints or something ez🥰🥰

thankyouu🥺✨

I love getting requests like this one; thank you @lululandd! Also, there’s a very important A/N at the end, so meet me there. Buh-bye for now, enjoy! 🍫

———————————————————————

Price got hurt. It was a terrible hit, and everything happened so fast. You were there, at the crime scene, as everything unfolded right before your very eyes.

His injury, however, wasn’t the result of a mission gone wrong; no. Some idiot forgot to put the warning sign on the wet floor, which caused the poor man to fly into the air and crash to the floor.

The good news is that he's recovering quickly and is now being held at the medical centre until he's ready to be released.

The bad news? Without a captain to guide the team, there was no mission to undergo. And, without a mission, none of you had a clear direction or purpose, leaving you all floating in a sea of mundane tasks and boredom. So, for the past few days, you and the rest of the team have been doing mind-numbing chores ranging from scrubbing the kitchen’s greasy ovens to meticulously organising the cluttered armoury.

While Soap and Gaz are on patrol, you and Ghost are taking a break in the mess hall. He’s cleaning his gun by disassembling it and wiping all its metal components with an alcohol solution. You sit across from him, working on a different kind of project: making a get-well-soon card for Price.

Last night, you snuck into HR’s office and “borrowed” some supplies to help you with your craft: a piece of white paper from the printer, some markers, and a pot of blue-coloured glitter dust you found in one of the drawers. It was a mystery as to why the military’s Human Resources department possessed glitter. Still, it will undoubtedly prove helpful with your "crafty" mission.

You also went to the doctor and requested some “normal-sized” bandages to help with your secret project. The doctor leaned back in his chair, raising one eyebrow. He asked why you wanted the bandages, but you were so vague with your answer that he became suspicious of you. So he pulled his desk’s drawer and gave you one fucking bandage—just one. So you had to make it count.

You folded the white paper in half and carefully attached the bandage horizontally to create the outline of Price’s body. The only thing left is to paint his face on the bandage and draw a hospital bed underneath it. That, and getting the team together to write some kind messages on the card.

Ghost looks at you every now and then, mildly intrigued by your artistic creation. You catch his eye, and he quickly turns away.

“Do you like it?” you ask.

“It’s a bandage on a piece of paper,” he says, shrugging. “What is there to like?”

“It’s not just a bandage on a piece of paper,” you explain and gesture to the figure on the paper; “it’s supposed to be Price lying in his hospital bed, recovering.”

His response comes in the form of a lengthy, dismissive snort. He points to the glitter pot in front of you.

“Why the glitter?” he asks.

“It’s for the bedsheets,” you murmur.

“I didn’t know they transferred Price to a love hotel,” he mocks, turning away from you to resume his task. You roll your eyes in response and shift your focus to your craft. This is the same guy you’ll later ask to write a few pleasant words on that card. Fun stuff.

You can still feel his gaze on you as you work on the captain’s card. Despite his best efforts to appear apathetic, you notice him leaning in slightly, pretending to stretch or yawn while sneaking peeks at your project. His body language betrays him; even though he tries to be tough and keep up the act, you know that deep down, he’s a huge softie who can’t resist a heartfelt gesture. He coughs, pretending to clear his throat, and you stifle a laugh at his failed attempt to seem disinterested. You roll your eyes and slam your hand on the table.

“What’s your problem, Lieutenant?” you ask with an amused smirk on your lips.

“I just don’t understand,” he says as he wipes the gun barrel. “Why bother making a card from scratch when you can buy one?”

“Because it’s more meaningful,” you explain. “When you take the time to create something yourself, it shows that you care. It’s not a generic card; it’s a heartfelt statement.”

He lets out a sarcastic scoff.

“I’d do the same thing for you, you know.” You whisper.

He puts down his rifle and looks at you. “You would?” He asks, surprised.

You nod. “Of course, I would,” you reply, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that; I’d rather you stay injury-free.”

He chuckles and turns to look at the mess hall doors as they open, with Soap and Gaz carrying a large box and approaching you both.

They slam the box on the table without assessing its weight, causing the entire surface to shake. The impact knocks Ghost’s alcohol solution over, spilling it all over the table and, even worse, all over your hand-made card.

Your heart sinks to your stomach as you helplessly watch the liquid soak into the card, smudging the ink and warping the paper. Ghost throws the gun on the table and grabs your card as quickly as he can. Soap curses under his breath, and Gaz grabs some paper towels from another table, attempting to rescue anything he can. But it’s too late; the damage is done.

You look up to see Ghost standing there, pinching your card between his fingers.

He is livid.

“What the fucking fucking shit, sergeants?” He murmurs.

“Apologies,” Soap replies, utterly unaware of what he’s done, “Hope we didn’t ruin anything important.”

“This,” Ghost says quietly as he raises the destroyed card, “was a get-well-soon card for Price.”

“Sorry guys,” Gaz apologises as he wipes the table off. “Soap and I will go buy another o-”

“SHE MADE THIS!” Ghost yells at him, “SHE MADE THIS WITH HER OWN HANDS!”

Soap furrows his brow. “Why would you make a card when you can buy one?” he wonders.

Ghost slaps his thigh, muttering profanities under his breath. You try to convince him that it’s alright and that a store-bought card will do just fine, but he cuts you off and looks at the sergeants.

“Why make a card instead of just buying one?” He asks and brings the tips of his fingers together, waving his hand back and forth in front of the two sergeants. “Because a hand-made card is more meaningful and personal than buying a generic one, you dimwits,” he lectures them and turns to you.

“Can you make another one, Y/N?” He asks softly.

You lower your head to the ground. “I’m afraid I’ve run out of banda-”

“SHE DOESN��T HAVE ANY MORE BANDAGES, YA PRICKS!”

“And I had only one sheet of paper.”

“AND SHE HAD ONL-” he pauses. “How come you only got one sheet?” He asks, and you explain that you weren’t supposed to be on the HR premises, so you had to act quickly. Ghost lets out a deep sigh as he looks at the ruined card.

“Sergeant Mactavish, go get a few sheets of paper from my office,” he instructs before turning to Gaz. “Sergeant Garrick,” he orders, “go to the medic; tell him that your new boots have caused blisters on your feet, and you need a few bandages to patch them up.”

They both nod and leave to go fetch your supplies. Ghost turns to you and crumbles your—already—destroyed card.

“Don’t be sad, kid,” he comforts you, “I’ll help you make another one.”

“Really, Lt.?” You ask, grinning.

“Damn right I will,” he says as he takes off his gloves, “and it’ll have bandages and bedsheets full of fucking glitter and everything nice on it.”

———————————————————————

A/N: The card was inspired by this tutorial from Jennie Moraitis; all credit goes to her. Here’s a picture of the card from her website!

[causenessus]

Congrats on 1k!!! Well deserved! May I request fluffiest of fluff of 🏠 with Kenma? Just like him and reader’s everyday life after becoming newlyweds or something

Thank you ☺️

domesticity. | kozume k.

kenma x f! reader

written in 2nd pov

one word prompt from 1k followers event: 🏠 -> domesticity

"let's skip to the wedding, let's stay past the ending, i'm gonna be good to you <3" from let's skip to the wedding by eyedress

word count: 1.1k

notes: fluff!! and written as headcannons i hope that's alright <3 it was just kind of the way my brain immediately took the request. thank you so much for requesting! this was adorable to write i hope u enjoy <3 also, a mention of 10 cent bag rule that some states do lol. just wanted to explain it beforehand so no one is confused, it's just something mandatory some states do where either you bring a resuable bag or pay 10 cents for a plastic bag! also sorry for any weird formatting, tumblr is having a FIT rn

you guys are finally married!! what does your life as newlyweds look like? <3

kenma did NOT get up the day after your wedding. and he didn’t let you get up either. you guys cuddled the entire day and then got up at like 6pm to get takeout for your first meal as husband and wife LMAO

that was basically your honeymoon but if you want to actually go somewhere, that’s totally fine <3 he’ll go with you

but his love definitely comes out most in just plain domesticity

and if you guys started living with each other even before getting married, you’ve definitely gotten a taste of that simple life

domesticity with kenma looks like you guys sharing a lot of chores

if he washes the dishes, you put them away and vice versa

and he actually enjoys doing the dishes (maybe slightly just bc you squeal and can’t help but kiss his cheek every time you see him roll up his sleeves and tie his hair back. just maybe)

on the other hand, LAUNDRY is the bane of your guys’ existence which means folding + movie nights are a STAPLE in your household

you both definitely take turns picking out movies while folding clothes or while you mend his old nekoma sweats

laundry makes him feel like years are being taken off his life though. he loves being on stray sock duty (pulling out your giant bag of stray socks and trying to find matches when the pile gets big enough) or sometimes he just ends up cuddling you instead. usually its with his arms wrapped around your waist, and he loves putting his head in your lap

sometimes it gets hard folding laundry when he does that

but you can’t complain, watching a movie and cuddling? suddenly laundry’s not that bad

and he’s just so comfortable and has this crazy effect of always making you feel sleepy that you guys have fallen asleep countless times on the couch

although this also leads to you guys waking up and the most random movies playing most of the time

like the one time you guys woke up to the shining theme playing and literally thought you were about to die (IK I MENTIONED THIS IN COLD KISSES BEFORE BUT IT IS STILL SUCH A FUNNY MEMORY TO ME)

sometimes you guys throw in a blanket while drying your clothes just so that while you’re both folding laundry you can be under a warm blanket too <3

you definitely binged like all the conjuring movies while folding laundry too

my guy cannot be trusted in the kitchen but he will try his very best if you ask him for help

will for sure keep you company in the kitchen no matter what though

is sometimes on music duty or will just play his switch while you’re cooking and you both enjoy the peaceful moment <3

he can also make tea or coffee for both of you while you're cooking!! he's very good at that <3 and definitely helps grab plates when you're both ready to eat

and sometimes gets out of bed early in the morning so he can bring you a cup of tea while you're still waking <3

especially on cold mornings. will 100% get out of bed for you. you're both cold? you want the heater up? okay <3 he'll get out of bed to turn it up before getting straight back into bed and pulling you close, nuzzling his cold face into your warm neck

he’s very good in grocery stores

at pushing the cart.

and holding your grocery list if you really trust him

please don’t leave him he’ll literally go into panic mode and stand in the middle of the bread aisle until you come back

or he’ll do that thing where he walks past every aisle trying to find which one you’re in and then you guys will see each other from opposite ends

to be honest he’s more of a basket guy anyway

like you walk into the grocery store and he's immediately picking up a basket (bc no way is he letting you hold it)

“kenma we need like a week’s work of groceries they’re not all gonna fit in there”

“yeah it will. i'll make it fit.”

most of the time he can't LMAO or something ends up getting squished but it’s okay

bc you know why he likes baskets?

so he can hold your hand <3

loves loves loves to play with your wedding ring, fiddling with it or just running his thumb over it while holding your hand

at first he hated grocery stores bc there’s so many inconsiderate people and it just make him feel anxious but he started to like it when he came with you

he likes following you around because you always know where you're going and he's just there for the ride

and he likes being there so that whenever you put something in the basket and ask “what’s next on the list?” he can tell you <3 he takes his job as grocery list holder very seriously

also surprisingly good at remembering to bring reusable bags (or will insist on holding everything. he is NOT paying 10¢ for a bag)

he may also sneak a few snacks into the basket/cart (if you forced him to get one) which is always okay <3

dinner looks like him stopping everything to eat with you or inviting you to watch/play with him while you guys eat

because again quality time is such an important and prominent love language in your guys’ life

he loves to just have you there with him and it’s all you need as well <3

but especially by marriage, if you want one-on-one time he will absolutely give you his full attention. why would he pass up on a chance to stare at his wife's pretty face and listen to her talk?

his chat and fanbase are also definitely well acquainted with you and adore you

they’re always melting over your interactions and sometimes when you walk by the camera and they see you they’re all freaking out like “OMG IT’S Y/N!!!!” “CAN WE SAY HI TO Y/N”

he always laughs when he sees his chat, because sometimes he doesn’t even notice you walking around in the background but he always complies. “babe?” he’ll call out

“what’s up?” you ask, coming back into the room

“my chat just wants to say hi,” he answers and you always smile, walking closer to his desk and leaning over his shoulder to say hi

it literally warms his heart to see his wife interacting with his chat <3

and when his followers found out you guys were getting married? #ynxkenmaendgameishappening went viral on twitter

and nearly everytime he refers to you as his wife his chat still blows up

you probably join him for q&as most often, and he once again is usually holding your hand in his lap, fidgeting with the pretty ring on your finger while you talk to the stream

at night he’s definitely a late sleeper, but you’ve scolded him about looking at screens in the dark too many times for him to count

so oftentimes you’re curled up at his side, your face nuzzled into his torso to block out the light while he has a small lamp on and an arm resting you, holding you close

and when he finally goes to bed, he never fails to press a kiss to your head before wrapping his arms around u <3

[seredelgi]

Sweet Punishment

fandom: Attack On Titan/ Shingeki No Kyojin

pairing: Dom!Levi Ackerman x Sub!Fem!Reader, Levi Ackerman x You

summary: Reader's relationship with Levi is everything she could've asked for, he's very sweet and never gets mad at her. There's only one little rule she needs to follow, and when she fails to, then he'll have to punish her.

rating: Mature, 18+

warnings: dom!levi, sub!reader, smut, like a lot, fingering, sex, vaginal sex, dubious consent (she enjoys it tho, believe me), spanking, blood (just a little cut on the lip, but still), unprotected sex (don't try it at home lol), penetration, manhandling (just a tiny bit, she's totally fine) vulgar language?, oh yeah, choking (no passing out), orgasm denial, slight degradation?, idk, this man has me feral, NO SPOILERS

word count: 4.6k

a/n: alright alright, last episode is out, and I'm just in love with Levi so I went down a rabbit hole of smut before deciding to write something down. It's just a scrap, I haven't put much thought in it so keep it in mind. Also, English is not my mother tongue, so go easy on me. Thoughts are in italic

tags: @imlevisoneandonlywife

Part 2

Your boyfriend is just so very good to you that it often makes you question how in the world have you gotten so lucky.

He’s known to be a man of few words, a true soldier, the best in what he does. You’ve never seen him in action, of course, but you’ve heard the stories and the way they’re being told. His subordinates tell them with a glimpse of ecstatic excitement in their eyes, his colleagues with a blatant silent respect. It’s honestly mesmerizing to see the effect he has on people.

But it is nothing compared to the effect he has on you.

You don’t need to see him slaying Titans to know he’s the best. He carries it wherever he goes, whatever he does, he has an aura to him that just draws you in.

And even though he’s perceived by everyone to be just a grumpy man, you get to see his sweetest side. Once Levi gets someone close to his heart, he becomes so severely attached to them that it’s almost suffocating. He showers you with his love and attention, compliments, gifts, simple little signs of his undying devotion towards you. And even though infamously ruthless on the battlefield, you’ve never seen him upset in your regards. Not that you’ve ever given him any reason to be, it’s pretty simple to please him. He’s not even the jealous type, maybe ‘cause he’s way too confident for his own good.

There’s only one little thing that he won’t compromise on.

Since the first time you two have had sex, he’s firmly stated that he wanted to be the only one to pleasure you, that not even you were permitted to relieve the tension on your own. It took you aback a little, but since he’d just managed to make you see stars you agreed.

Honestly, that decision has never truly bothered you that much, he was definitely worth the wait.

But now, as you're home alone waiting for him to get back home, you can’t stop thinking about him, about how good it feels to have him slide inside of you, and pump in and out with that effortlessly relentless pace he usually reserves you so kindly.

You try to focus on each chore you’re on at the moment, but anytime you try your mind seems to wander on its own, and you find yourself aching for him, catching glimpses of the clock hanging in the kitchen, counting down the hours that separate you from seeing him again.

You must be ovulating, ‘cause you feel so damn empty just thinking about him, needing to be filled so desperately it’s almost funny.

“ Just hormones” you huff quietly as you finish washing the dishes “ breathe, y/n”

You’ve never actually considered breaking Levi’s rules, you wouldn’t like lying to him about it. But right now his request just seems so unreasonable.

You eye the door of your bedroom from afar.

He doesn’t have to know.

It’s just one little slip, one little sin to remove a bit of the tension and be able to ease your mind.

For some reason your heart’s racing as you tiptoe silently towards the bedroom, sitting on your bed and sighing as you remember what happened in it the other night. Thinking about it makes you feel incredibly hot between your legs. You can feel your juices stain the white cotton of your panties.

You bite your bottom lip, considering if maybe you should just get up and get back to your chores, maybe put something up in the oven for dinner.

But it’s impossible when all it takes is for you to close your eyes and you can see him, holding you in his arms, leaving humid kisses down your neck, whispering huskily in your ear all the things he wants to do to you.

“ Fuck it” you click your tongue in surrender and place yourself laying back on the center of the mattress.

It’s his fault honestly, for being so ridiculously hot and impossible to wait for. And anyway, he’ll never know. You’ll make it quick. It’s still an hour before he comes back. Plenty of time for you to get off even more than once.

So you lean back and relax.

You close your eyes and he’s there again, looking down at you with hungry eyes, touching you all over your naked body. And as you imagine his touch upon you it’s easy, almost like following his orders, scanning your hands upon the warm skin of your breasts, your fluttering stomach, all the way down between your thighs.

You get rid of your panties, breaths quickening as you can feel his tongue sucking on your hardened nipples. Your whole body is aching so bad just thinking about it, yearning for his hands on you so bad it’s almost bruising.

As you part your legs and gently slip your middle finger between your folds a sudden cry of arousal breaks free from your throat. You just wish it were him touching you, his fingers sliding silently inside of you as you're doing now, gathering your juices before slipping out of your entrance again to bring them toward your clit.

You’re so incredibly wet. He’d surely comment on it if he were here, mocking you for how desperate you look for him. It would be embarrassing if it didn’t turn you on even more. And now that your fingertips are finally massaging your bundle of nerves, that agonizing tension you’ve been feeling all day just gathers in your lower abdomen, ready to let loose.

You’ve been horny all day, so it figures that you’re already so close.

It’s shameful, but it’s true.

Your free hand grips your sheets so hard you think you’ll have to iron them again if you don’t want Levi to notice. But that’s not your concern now. You’re lost in your lust, eyes shut picturing your man sliding inside of you with his cock, whispering all kinds of dirty prayers into your ear. It’s almost as if he’s there.

“ What do you think you’re doing?”

You take a few instants to realize that it’s really him asking you that, flesh and blood in your room, standing by the door and looking at you with the kind of gaze that you’re sure would send any reasonable man a shiver running down their spine.

“ Fuck- Levi” you pant, your hand coming off of you in a spurt, hoping in vain that he won’t comment on it, that he’ll let it slide “ I didn’t hear you come in”

His silver-grey eyes don’t come off of you as you sit at attention, closing your legs and trying to gain some composure. Your mind spins so fast it takes your breath away, your heart stammering loudly in your chest as he clenches his jaw.

He’s standing there, mere meters away from you, his uniform still on, a severe expression darkening his beautiful features.

That’s impossible not to find hot.

“ Yeah, that much was clear” he hums, and by the tone of his voice it’s difficult to determine how actually mad he is, being it the first time you ever break that rule “ So this is what you do when you’re home alone, huh?”

“No it’s not like that, I was just-” you don’t know why you’re so fast at trying to justify yourself when you know full well you haven’t done anything wrong.

You should tell it to him straight. That he doesn’t own you. He might be the best fighter in the known world, a Captain of the Scouts Corp, but that doesn’t give him the right to exert control over your God damn body.

But the words die in your throat. It’s suddenly really hot in there, and you’re still very fucking horny. You’re ashamed to admit that you find yourself quite attracted to this side of him, one you’ve never had the pleasure to fully unravel.

“ Just what? Trying to have fun without me?” he’s finally moving, walking towards the chair in front of your bed, getting rid of his jacket and placing it tiredly upon it.

“ Just warming up for when you came home, honey” you sound so out of breath, and you’re trembling.

You don’t actually think he would do you any harm, and yet his eyes suggest otherwise, his demeanor exudes danger from every pore. If that’s just a hint of the coldness he carries himself into battle with, then it’s no wonder fucking Titans fall at his feet.

“ You know that’s not how it works” his voice is low, steady “ But maybe you need a little reminding”

A hint of mischief lightens up the tension, and he starts walking towards you, slow and lethal like the man you know he is.

“ I didn’t even finish, I swe-”

But you’re cut off by his sudden movement, a quick dash to get a hold of your face, squishing your cheeks together with a hand, he gives you the kind of look that shuts you the hell up and gets that familiar tickle go wild between your legs. You subtly squeeze your thighs together to give your pussy some kind of attention, disobeying right in front of him kind of getting you off now.

“ I’m the only one that can give you pleasure” he almost growls at you, and his hold is so strong it’s bruising you now “ Understood?”

“ Yes, Sir” it’s all you’re able to reply, mind too foggy to gather anything else.

But it looks like he likes it, ‘cause he lets you go, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Levi Ackerman doesn’t smile easily. So you guess you’ll call him that in the bedroom more often.

He sits on the edge of the bed, and you’re almost disappointed, thinking he’s already done with you.

“ Over my lap” he instructs instead “ Now”

You’re kind of confused about what exactly he’s got in mind. But it doesn’t look like a great idea to ask out loud, so you find yourself complying, crawling towards him, legs a bit shaky from the missed orgasm you almost managed to give yourself.

You get within reach of him, not sure how he wants you to position yourself.

“ How do I-”

But you’re cut off again by his hand reaching for your wrist, tugging you forward, and having you stumble upon him, ending up stomach flat against his thighs. You resist the urge to whine in protest, sensing he’s not keen on you speaking up right about now.

You feel the light fabric of your sundress being roughly lifted up your ass, revealing to him your nakedness.

He sits in appreciation of the view in front of him for a few instants, and you’re feeling every nerve-ending on your body standing at attention for what he’s gonna do next.

The first slap makes your heart skip a beat, you hold your breath and close your eyes shut, and somehow you still manage to hold in your cry of pain. It’s sudden and disconcerting, and it kind of feels wrong to stay silent while he takes such liberties with your body, and yet it makes you squirm in your place to feel more.

The stinging that comes from the second one is even better, ‘cause you’ve expected it, and the high that comes next is kind of inebriating to your drunken senses.

Oh God, you’re so down bad for this man you’ll let him treat you like a disobedient child.

With the third one you can’t help yourself, you cry out in pain as the burning sensation gets your insides in a twirl, while the aching between your legs won’t stop growing desperate by the second.

“ I told you couldn’t do it” his voice is hoarse now, the sound of lust tainting it so clearly it only makes you hornier “ Don’t I give you enough pleasure? Enough attention?” he slaps you hard, and yet it’s not hard enough for you to feel the vibrations of your thighs giving you some kind of relief from the tension you’re holding up between your legs “Are you really that needy?”

You muffle a protest, almost crying from how much you feel desperate for him to touch you, but you don’t dare ask.

Luckily it’s like he’s in your mind, ‘cause you feel his hand suddenly stopping from imparting you that sweet punishment, only to make its way between your reddened thighs, finding your liquids covering their insides, and it’s so good to hear a falter of genuine stupor in his voice as he appraises how wet you are from what he’s doing to you “ Fuck, you really are, aren’t you?” he murmurs, and you can almost feel him licking his lips as he comes to touch your hole now, finding it drenched with your juices “ You’re a fucking mess”

You really are. Your liquids are audibly enveloping his fingers as he sinks them deep into you without much effort, your walls sucking him in. You let go of a sigh of pure ecstasy as you finally feel him fill you up as you’ve longed for all day long. It’s not enough, you want his cock balls deep into you, but you don’t think you’re in the position to make any requests right now.

His desire is undeniable at this point, you can feel it poking at your stomach as he starts pumping his fingers into you, so slowly you’re sure he wants to kill you with this fake kindness. Having his erection pressing into you like that is torture too. He must know that’s what you want. Heck, he seems horny enough to give it to you now, and yet he refrains. What is he up to?

“ You’re so fucking spoiled” he comments as his fingers start pumping at a much higher pace, getting to that spot inside of you that he knows how much you like “ Can’t even wait an hour for me to get home, huh?”

You’re so undeniably turned on, and yet some kind of rebellious part of you hates to let him know so blatantly, and has you trying to refrain from making too much noise. But it’s almost impossible. It would be so much easier to say you’re sorry and have him shift back into his normal tender self, but you’re high on this, and it feels like a waste to have it stop right now.

“ What’s this?” he asks, his tone slightly irritated by your sudden attitude, and you have to put all your efforts into stopping yourself from whimpering when his hand slips out of you so suddenly it makes your whole body shiver “ The silent treatment?”

He reaches for your lips with his other hand, the one that’s not covered in your liquids, and he parts them slowly. You’re too slow to realize what he wants to do, and before you know it you’ve got his thumb inside your mouth and the rest of his fingers holding your neck, lifting you from where you lay on top of him, making you look into his dark grey eyes.

“ Apologize now, and I’ll be gentle”

You don’t want gentle. Not anymore. And neither does he. You can see it in his eyes, he’s hungry for more, he just keeps it together better than you ever could.

“ You fon’t- owm’e” your muffled words were meant to sound challenging, but your eyes, you’re sure, they’re begging for him to fuck you, and this facade of yours is practically ridiculous.

You know ‘cause his smirk is chilling, amused by your pathetic attempts at making this interesting, when really, all he wants is for you to beg him to give it to you.

“ We’ll see about that”

He shoves you back down on the mattress, slipping his thumb out of your warm mouth before getting up with his knees pressing down on the bed and going for his belt, and you can’t help your eyes from lingering on his hurried movements as he lowers his pants and boxers just enough that you can see his cock finally popping out, and it’s so hard it’s almost threatening.

You knew he was just as impatient as you were, finding you getting off on your bed with his name probably escaping your lips must’ve been a treat he wasn’t expecting to stumble upon. But seeing it made you even more eager to feel it inside.

He crawls on top of you so that he’s all you can see, but he’s all you can ever see when you’re this horny.

You lunge up towards his lips. He still hasn’t kissed you, and by now it feels natural to want to, but he dodges you, making you almost pout in response.

“ There are no kisses for bad girls”

That’s so unfair you almost give in on the spot, the apology nearly rolling off your tongue so that you can be able to taste his inside of you.

Instead, you start kissing his neck, but he takes you harshly by the throat and presses you hard into the mattress.

Fuck him, he’s playing dirty.

He presses a knee down between yours and has you part your legs so easily it’s freaking frightening. If it weren’t for the fact that he lowered himself upon the skin of your neck, pressing his cock on the center of your cunt you would be complaining to yourself about how much control he has over you. But you like it too much to really care.

He starts kissing your neck slowly, so slowly it feels like torture, and his hips start rutting against your dripping core at the same dangerous pace. He can kill you with all of this, gentle when you want hard fucking and bites and marks to last for days. And yet it’s enough pressure, enough contact to leave you on the edge, enough to feel like crying with frustration. He’s already brought you so close with his hand before, and you almost came on your own before that, you’re practically holding on for dear life at this point.

“ Levi-” you can’t help but sob in his ear, feeling his breath grazing upon your warm skin as he answers you, his voice a delicate purr:

“ Yes?”

“ Please- fuck” you beg, dignity be damned. You’re a whore for this man, who are you even kidding?

“ Please what?” his tip is slowly pushing inside of you, only to slip out again as he teases you, and you think he’s never been so damn cruel to you in bed. It’s intoxicating how much you’re liking it.

“ Please, please, Levi, fuck me” your voice is so distorted by need that it’s practically unrecognizable, and the kind of chuckle that he ghosts upon your skin when he finally decides to stop playing with you would have your blood run cold, wouldn’t it be for the hotness of being surrounded by him with so much desire.

“ As you wish” he only says, before finally sliding his whole length inside of you, one deep thrust and you’re fucking screaming into the void of the room, clinging to his back and begging to the Gods above for it to never stop.

He’s finally fucking you as you wanted, deep thrusts crashing against your aching clit, your juices dripping down on the freshly clean sheets of your bed to create a pool of delicious wetness beneath you two.

He raises, towering over you, and he’s just so damn beautiful that he looks unreal.

“ Apologize” he orders again, this time you can hear the slightest little falter in his voice as he pumps in and out of you without mercy, still holding you down against the mattress by the neck.

Heck no.

You can’t risk this stopping now that you’re finally filled with him, now that you’re so close to getting what you’ve wanted all day.

You find the strength to shake your head no.

You catch a glimpse of indignation glinting in his eyes, something so fleeting it’s gone in an instant, but it’s impossible to feel scared when every single movement of his is sending shivers down your spine, and each thrust against your clit brings you one step closer to fucking paradise.

You’re already so close, and you’re so drunk on pleasure that you’re way past feeling shameful for it. You’re a babbling mess and you just love it.

“ Don’t you dare come” he threatens. His voice rasp, his breaths quicker and you feel something twist inside of you. He can’t do this to you. He can’t play with you like this. It’s simply evil.

“ Please” you whine, your voice a whisper, your eyes teary, his hold on your neck starting to limit the amount of air being able to reach your lungs. You feel like passing out like this would be heaven on earth. But you want to cum first.

He can’t rob you of it, not after all that you’ve let him do to you today. So you’ll come and hope for dear life to be able to refrain yourself from making it obvious.

You can feel your walls clenching around his cock, any thrust of his could be the last one, before-

Fuck. He can’t be serious.

He slipped out while you were almost there.

He’s nuzzling his nose against your neck, leaving little bites on your impatient skin as you cry, only able to complain.

“ I know you too well by now, love” he murmurs silently on your skin, his hand on your throat finally coming off, making you able to breathe in properly “ I can feel when you’re close, you can’t fool me”

He raises his silver-grey eyes upon you, and they’re filled with dark intents, so dangerous that your heart skips a beat.

“ Now apologize” his voice is firm, and his tone is so low it almost feels like a threat. This time, you know, if you don’t he’ll walk away on you. And you can’t have it.

“ I’m sorry” you finally give in, tears running down your cheeks, a pathetic mess, desperate to feel your man filling you up with his cum “ I’m sorry, Levi, please”

He sighs as if annoyed by all of this.

“ Will you ever disobey me again?”

“ Never, fuck- I swear” you’re too fast to shake your head no to that, giving him up any control he wanted over you and your body “ I will never touch myself again, I promise, Captain”

Much like the ‘Sir’ you had uttered before, this too sends a proud little sparkle flying in his irises, and at that he falls apart too, kissing your neck violently and sinking inside of you again, revealing himself just as lost in his desire as you are.

“ You’re so hot when you beg me” he chants upon your skin and you shiver as he bites your neck and sucks onto your tender skin, making you moan his name so loud you’re glad you don’t have any neighbors “ I love it, fuck- I love you”

It’s not often that Levi throws those words at you, and any time he does it feels like you’re golden in his hands, like you’re the last meal for a starved man.

His pace has become relentless, and it’s breaking you apart.

You meet his eyes, and this time around there’s no more coldness in them, no more anger or attitude of any kind, his features have softened underneath the burden of pleasure, and his eyes are so full of love it makes you hold your breath and cross your legs around his waist, keeping him so close you can feel his heart beating underneath his chest.

At times like this you can’t believe he’s yours, can’t believe you get to be fucked by the best soldier humanity has ever seen. You’re blessed. So what if you can’t touch yourself? All of this is just so worth it.

“ Can I kiss you now?” you ask, breathless.

He looks down on you with a hint of stupor, as if he were surprised that right now, a step away from your orgasm, you still look for his lips. And then he crashes down upon you, kissing you as if he hadn’t in years, as if there is no one else in the world.

You’re washed over by a sense of ecstasy, it runs throughout your whole body as you chase your relief, and when you finally break apart, you start shuddering against him, crying his name in his mouth, thanking him for everything he’s making you feel.

“ That’s it” you hear him in the background of your pleasure, praising you upon your feverish skin “ my good girl”

And then he kisses you again, this time violent, ravenous.

As you slowly come down from your high a sudden pain makes you realize he’s bit your lip, and by the drops of red staining his mouth when he parts from you you think he’s cut it, his hand clasping around your neck again, his brows furrowed, his eyes upon you.

“ You’re mine, yeah?”

He asks it with a verge of doubt, a vulnerability he rarely grants himself, usually when it concerns you.

It makes your heart ache and you kiss him again, the ferrous taste of your own blood corrupting the delicious one of his lips. You find it astounding that he even feels the need to ask you this, especially after all that has just occurred, the way you’ve let him dispose of you. Whose else would you ever be?

“ Only yours, Levi Ackerman, always”

“ Fuck- I’m so close” he pants.

“ Cum inside of me” you beg him quietly, and he sets you free of the hold on your neck and crashes down on you, slipping his arms under your shoulders and keeping you so close to him he could probably break you.

“ You want it in your pretty pussy, huh?” he asks, his voice croaking with pleasure, it almost breaks from how close he is.

“ Yes, Sir”

That seems to do it, ‘cause he lets out the kind of groan you’ve learned to recognize as he holds you to him, his movements erratic, his breaths hot and heavy against your neck, through your hair. He slams a hand on the headboard to keep himself steady, and you see his face twist deliciously as he’s overcome with pleasure.

“ Fuck” he swears as you feel his hot seed springing into you, filling you up as you’ve longed for, and it’s just perfect. You love feeling him emptying inside of you, it makes you feel fulfilled. It drives you.

He towers above you for a few more instants, his heavy breaths crashing down on you, lips still red from your blood. Then he comes collapsing beside you, still dressed in his uniform, even though some of his buttons have accidentally been undone in the heat of the moment.

You lay silently for a while, the high of passion slowly taming as you both wrap your heads around whatever has just happened. You’re kind of shocked. You honestly did not think you would be into any of what’s just occurred, but he’s just too hot to be denied.

“ Maybe I should try to masturbate more often” you casually throw the words in the silence of the room, hoping to elicit a laugh from him.

Long shot.

“ Don’t you dare” he threatens instead.

[areyoudreaminof]

some word salad behind the cut

I never thought I’d ever get into writing. My self esteem is so minimal it’s nearly non existent, so I had never bothered to try. But I started writing last year and found I was enjoying it. I made grand plans to write more until I didn’t.

My passion became my poison, suddenly.

As I scrolled through endless fics and writers much more talented than I am, my anxiety perched itself on my shoulder like a crow and squawked in my ear.

“The shit you’re putting out? No wonder nobody is reading it. You’re writing boring stuff. Who gives a fuck about kids and one shots?” It would say. I’d reply that I didn’t want to write smut. I don’t like doing it and it felt silly.

“So why are you writing at all?” Anxiety Crow said, “That’s what people want. And you can’t even do that.”

It came to a head right before Elucien Week. Last year, I wrote three fics I am still immensely proud of. One of which opened a door for me with the first Next Gen characters I came up with. I had assumed that I’d have something else lined up for this year's Elucien Week.

But in that year, I had a lot of personal changes and mental health challenges that weren’t getting better. I made the mistake of starting a long fic and it became this beast that I couldn’t tame. Even one shots and snippets became a chore. I’d have to force myself to finish a chapter, to try and translate the images I saw in my head to paper, but it wasn’t working. This coincided with my depression peaking in early 2024, in which I got suicidal and had to seek help.

By January, I’d gotten more frustrated with my writing, by June, I despised writing in its entirety. Three days before Elucien Week was due to begin, I hovered my mouse over DELETE ACCOUNT on AO3 and nearly trashed a year worth of work. I decided to take a step back to clear my head and to put a stop to this toxic competition I had with myself. I didn’t want to lose the hobby I’d grown to love and destroy the new friendships I’d made. I was absolutely terrified of losing those wonderful friends I’ve made and I felt so guilty and angry at myself for fumbling the bag and not writing anything.

I can’t even tell you why I obsessed over it, I may never go back to writing at all, but the weight of that self hatred has eased up from my chest. It’s not eating me alive anymore. That’s not to say it’s gone of course. Just the other day I had another major moment of doubt, and nearly trashed everything, again. I’m trying to parse through my own mind constantly to sort out my own spirals and triggers. Some days it’s working, others it’s not.

I think I’m now telling you about it, because I’m sure you’re feeling it too. People reached out to me to check on me when I left and others to let me know they were having the same problems. The feelings of inferiority among fandom, the nagging expectations we placed on ourselves. Never mind any of the challenges we face in our daily lives. What’s the worth of my mental health and happiness and why the fuck do I keep measuring it like this?

Whatever comes of this break, I hope that all of us can find our self worth, wherever it is. I see so many incredible artists, writers, and people that inspire me to want to keep going. If you’re reading this, you’re one of them.

Take a breath and take a break. We’ll figure it out.

[derangedanomaly]

...So, Chaos is like my comfort character rn, and him getting mad at us... again... genuinely makes me want to cry, I can't handle getting yelled at... Like at all, and right now I'm literally shaking, if like anyone yells at me in anyway, my brain immediately says that it's my fault and I mad them mad, and to get away from them... Ha ha ha..... I think I have a problem.... But, when I get like this, I hide from the person that yelled at me, for like hours, sometimes I disassociate from the person to the point I stop responding... Completely... And then I avoid them, fearing I'll get yelled at again, and make them mad again. I won't even ask for help, I'll stay quiet and do as I'm told, without a single thought running through my head, like completely empty.

I was wondering if you could write um, some headcanons on Mare, Chaos, and the trio getting angry and yelling at us and then we just start disassociating and then when they stop yelling, we just disappear for hours only to reappear and not say a single word, but avoid them because we feel like we upset them and fear that if we get close to them they'll get angry again. And we won't even ask for things, we just hide and won't come out until our mind feels it's safe. And if they try to talk to us, at all, our mind immediately feels its no longer safe, and then we disassociate again.

You're so real for this.. I literally can't handle arguments- I don't like conflicts at all.

MASTERLIST

THE BOYS X THE READER DISAPPEARING AFTER AN ARGUMENT

NIGHTMARE:

Of course he snapped. How could he not? You keep on making excuses upon excuses, just so you can get out of doing certain chores. Nightmare just can't keep it together anymore... he's seriously too tired for this.

He was surprised when you ran up to your room, and didn't show up the whole day.

He honestly started to get a lil concerned. But his pride didn't let him check up on you

It was a shock to him when you finally came out of your room.

But even through all this... he's still the king of negativity. Of course he's gonna enjoy your negative feelings.

Honestly- won't end well. He doesn't know how to comfort someone, and he'd probably make it worse than it is actually- so.... Not the best choice 😭

CHAOS:

He didn't want to yell... He didn't mean to yell and let his emotions out... But you just suddenly started mentioning his mom...again. He truly doesn't want to think about it- he doesn't want to hear about it. Then something in him just- snapped.

You wouldn't even make it up to your room, before he grabs your hand, and looks at you with tears in his eye.

The only thing that he didn't want to happen- happened. He yelled at you.

You two immediately resolved it!

Everything went back to normal- and now you know not to mention that topic again..

Honestly, one of the best choices here lmao.

ACE:

He tries to stay away from creating conflicts...he can't stand them. He doesn't search for them- and he sure as hell doesn't want them. But hearing you spitting "facts" about his favorite tv show just made him angry..

He feels horrible after he sees you run up the stairs, a total mess.

He also- much like Chaos- won't let it sit. He'll try to immediately solve your argument!

He'd apologize really passionately! Just snuggling up to you, telling you how much he appreciates you..

BLADE:

Blade couldn't keep his cool when you fiddled with his collection of knives. He just COULDN'T. And being the idiot he is, he raised his voice....which he quickly realized was a mistake.

He was confused when you started avoiding him-

This dumbass is such a dum dum that he lets this go on for a whole week 💀

He just doesn't know what to say/do😭🙏🏻

He'd crack though, after he starts missing you.

Yeah...you got yourself a begging mess of Blade lmao

TED:

He doesn't yell at you

[rosesbxrry]

Links for Heeseung 🔞

Warnings: this contains nsfw links and explicit commentary imagines on my end. Afab! Reader. Minors do not interact. Of course, this is all fictional and none of the materials represents them.

a/n: As promised, I’m posting Heeseung’s first. I’m probably going to post Jake’s a bit later to take a break. Currently, I’m writing another wip in the mean since I’ve been aching to finish it for a while. Please reblog and leave feedbacks if you can!

Main Masterlist

Don’t ever question Heeseung when he tells you to sit on his face

You've thought about it before— even fantasied a little bit when you gawk at his side profile. The arch of his nose was oddly attractive, the way it sloped down and ended at the buttoned tip. Your gaze would linger whenever he swiped his tongue to wet the bottom of his lips, chewing at the straw of your drink unconsciously at how cute the bow of his upper lip looked.

Your stares we are getting to him because his words froze you in your position on his lap after a heavy make-out session.

"Do you want to sit on my face?"

He chuckled when you gaped like a fish, reaching to swipe his thumb on your glistened lips. A dark and amused expression crossed his face at how flustered you became.

"Come on," You let out a deep sigh when he kissed the area under your ear, teasingly leaving a wet smooch that made you crumble further into his embrace. "Be good girl and put your cute pussy on my face, yeah?"

It didn't take you a second to pull your skirt from above him, watching his eyes glimmer as you exposed yourself to him bashfully. He'll tell you how beautiful you look before urging you to lower yourself.

The moment his lips made contact with your wet folds, you both let out a satisfying moan. He was gentle initially, moving his mouth at the same notion when he first kissed you. Once his tongue quickened its pace, he was sucking and slurping every inch of your cunt while his nose nuzzled your aching clit until you were grinding on his face.

From then on, you never hesitated when he told you to sit on his face.

I don’t make the rules but Heeseung is into anal and no one can convince me otherwise

There was something so filthy and obscene when he buried himself into your tight hole, but your pussy was still in sight for him to play with as you soaked his fingers with your juices.

He’ll definitely tease you; degrade you to the end while he thrusts harder, telling you how much you enjoyed getting fuck from behind.

“Look at you. Do you like to be fuck in the ass that much?” He’ll roll his fingers around your clit playfully, precisely stroke it fast as you buck your hips into his fingers. “You like how tight it feels, am I right? Letting your hole pucker up around my cock like a slut.”

You were arching your back at the feeling of him pounding hard, his fingers doing wonders around your clit as you felt a familiar tight knot in your stomach, thighs trembling uncontrollably as the amount of pleasure that was about to overthrow your senses.

“please— Hee— oh my god!”

Your mouth was open agape, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you squirted on the white sheet of the bed. Heeseung never stops his hips from moving in and out, absolutely enamored by the feeling of you wetting yourself and him in your scent that he only has one thing in mind—

He wants you to do it repeatedly until you scream and cry for him to stop.

Jerking your baby Hee when he tells you he’s hard

Heeseung follows you around the house like a lost puppy, feeling his towering presence at your back as you do the house chores. You had a hunch on why he was doing so but watching him reach his hand before curling it back to the side with his eyes dropping to the floor was so adorable.

When he pulls on your shirt, you turn around with an expected look. You swore the moment he looked up— doe eyes flickering like beads of pearls— telling you that he wants you to help him with his hard-on, you immediately told him to sit on the couch.

He did it so obediently, spreading his legs as you reached to pull his cock out of the confinements of his sweatpants. You’ll coo at him, praising him for being a good boy and asking politely for your help, biting your lower lip when his dick twitches at your words.

You softly jerk his length, fisting from the leaking head to the base with a firm grip. His moans were music to your ears, breathy and whiny as you began to focus on stroking the head with his precum. The wet sound echoed in the living room, making the atmosphere more erotic and heated.

Heeseung’s mouth was wide open, eyes and head rolling to the back when you kept showering him with adoration, whispering how cute his pink and sensitive tip was as you thumb it and how you liked to watch his tight balls bounce. It all accumulated as Heeseung came hard, the ends of his ears turned red as he desperately sobbed your name.

Don’t forget to tell your baby Hee he did a good job, kissing his lips as he deserved.

He tells you to ride him on his gaming chair after wining a round

It would be best if you hadn’t made this into a habit. It’s a lousy reward that seemed to lean its favor onto your gamer boyfriend at this point.

It was a simple system— if he won the round, he got you to do whatever he wanted, and vice versa if you won. When he absolutely crushed you with no sense of mercy at the game, he immediately took a hold of your hand and dragged you to sit on his lap with the biggest grin on his face.

“I always wanted you to ride me in this chair.”

“So you can find an excuse to spend more money on something to sit while you game?” You jeer off, causing him to push you down until you bottom out at the base, the sudden stretch of his shaft on your walls takes you by surprise at his rough grip.

He gave you a smug smirk, leaning close to your lips to whisper. “So I won’t worry if we break this chair when you won’t stop bouncing on my cock, baby girl.”

He was right all along; you couldn’t stop moving up and down his length to chase your high. Every time his tip kissed the deepest part of your core, the pleasure made you move faster until you could feel the chair beneath him rattle and shake vigorously due to the intensity.

Heeseung has an ample grasp of your ass, urging you to go faster, a look of absolute amazement plastered on his face as he closes his eyes to enjoy the tightness of your walls before telling you one last piece of mind—

“—and its not an excuse when I know you’ll never say no if I tell you to get on top.”

Heeseung has the most sensitive, juiciest and massive balls to suck on

You’ve given him so many blowjobs before that you’ve memorized all the little ticks that set him off when you give him the suck of his life. You were convinced that his most sensitive part was the sacs between his big cock, taking the information to your advantage.

Heeseung let out a choked moan when you gently took one of his balls into your mouth, closing his eyes and arching his back at how much precum was leaking out of his tip. He gathers and spreads the white liquid with just one movement before pumping his shaft.

He wasn’t sure what was hotter— hearing the wet sound of you sucking each of his nuts sloppily or the sight of you touching your clit. By this point, his thighs trembled beside your ears as you abused his balls, nibbling and licking the tender flesh like a sweet lollipop.

He was panting heavily, white spots filling his vision as he neared the brink of breaking apart above you. The relentless jerking of his erection never ceased, focusing on chasing his high while you nuzzled deeper that he was humping on your mouth at this point “Can’t a-ah…fuckkk, I’m gonna—“

He finally let out a satisfying sob within his chest as ropes of his creamy release shoot out to bathe your body in white. Cold sweats drip down his forehead and neck, swallowing down the lump in his throat at the sheer explosion of his orgasm.

He’ll almost smirk after catching sight of your wet pussy after you come, definitely telling you that he’ll sit on your face more often from now on with an exhausted laugh.

Permanent Taglist: open/ take this form to be added!

@forjongseong @skzenhalove @duolingofanaccount @sunnysunnysunnysunshine @sunnyjayjays @archangelaurii @won-shine @stnkyash @yoursjaeyun @hooneam @jjhmk @pshchives @heeseungssidechick ​@hoonslutt @hwihwi0o0 @seuomo @knowleeknow

[days-until-burnout]

Heeyyy

Can I just say your writing always sends me to heaven and back

You write so gracefully I get inspired every time I read a post from you

Could you maybe do something with etho x tango? Maybe in a TIES context maybe maybe ??

Ps: youareawesomeyouareawesomeyouareawesomeyouar-

<3

AAAAAAAAAAAA WAIT THNNK YOU SO MUCH. THAT MEANS A LOT. COMMENTS LIKE YOURS MOTIVATE ME TO KEEP WRTING TO WIN WIN IN MY BOOK. this is not my best work but in my defence, i was sick recently so i couldnt write and i already feel rsuty but pls enjoy ;-; _____

📧 Day 46 -

Characters - Etho/Tango Words - 1,109 Time - 45 mins Content - Limited Life

It was an eventful day. After all the adrenaline and thrill and deaths, when the end of session was called, it was like everyone could finally breathe. Everything was still too tense, with side-eyes and murmurs, everyone sticking to their own. Better, but not by much. 

Etho had offered to stay back and clean up their base. Even without that, he had felt a little guilty at all the mess he had caused in trying to protect Tango. It was… a weird moment. He could not directly stop them, though maybe he should have gotten in their way physically. Instead, he had placed blocks that he then had to clean out. So he stayed behind to clean up while Skizz and Impulse went off to mine, and Tango—

Well, Tango already had a grand, exciting day, so he did not blame him if he decided to do nothing until the next session. 

Either way, cleaning did not take as long as he thought, even having time to fill the holes and terraform outside where the Bad Boys had dug in desperation. He giggled, remembering their glares when they realized it was a futile attempt, the realization that he had been lying to them. There had been a small phantom, very faint annoyance coursing through him when Joel looked at him (but they had broken into a fit of giggles when Joel stuck his tongue out, so maybe it was not such a big deal). People had been mad at him, but he had felt pride. 

He brought Tango time, which was the only thing that mattered.

After putting all the blocks back in the chests, he went to tend to the other chores in the base; mainly their crops and chickens. He found some seeds in a chest, and decided to use them up before doing the wheat. As he sat in front of their chicken ‘coop’, feeding the chickens seeds, his mind drifted to potential uses for the seeds. Wheat and composter were the obvious, but surely there had to be other uses, right?

As his mind wandered, Etho did not hear when someone joined him in the base, not snooping but right in the area where he was. Swiftly, quietly but not intentionally so, they began to harvest the wheat, only breaking the silence with a chuckle. 

“You’re thinking.”

Etho blinked, shaking his head back to reality, turning to see Tango knelt on the ground, pulling the wheat off. “Didn’t hear you.”

“I noticed.”

Etho let out a huff, a smile on his lips under the mask, “How are you feeling?”

“Good, good, I think. You?”

“I’m fine.”

“You know, I was talking with Pearl and BigB earlier. We talked about the time exchange thing. How I gave Skizz more time with my death?”

Etho hummed, promptly turning back to his chore. The seeds were light in his hand, a seed so small in between his digits. “We’ll get it back eventually. Just gotta keep it between us, and we might even have a chance to win.”

“You think so?”

“Likely. We are the biggest group, if you don’t count group alliances.”

“Huh, I guess so.” Tango hmphed, turning back to his work again. Soft stems breaking, roots pulled from the ground, the chuckling of chickens, exp, the occasional kneeling. It was peaceful, unlike earlier. “Hey, Etho? Thanks for all that, covering for me. You could’ve betrayed me, or even taken the time for yourself, but you didn’t.”

“What? No! We’re a team, c’mon. I wouldn’t have!”

Tango laughed, making Etho turn to him, staring at his back. That wire-like tail, flicking and swishing its flame. It was mesmerizing. 

“I know, I know. Aside from that absent father thing, you’re pretty loyal yourself, aren’t cha? Is that why you didn’t let me kill Bdubs before?”

Etho never knew he could go speechless so suddenly, throat dry and lips sealed. He stared at Tango’s back, waiting for him to turn around with a stupid smirk, say he was joking and pulling on his metaphorical (even though he very much had a tail) tail. But Tango stayed put, working diligently as Etho made seed dents in his palm. 

“I mean,” Tango continued, nonchalant, like that memory did not bother him even though they both knew better, “it makes sense, no? You love by protecting, or something like that. Loyal, weirdly loyal.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Dunno. I was just thinking about today. About you, mostly.”

“Me?”

“You did save me.”

“We are a team.”

“Only a team?”

It was a long shot. A very long shot. But they had agreed, only waiting on Etho. And they were a team. Surely Etho would agree too. Matching ties to commemorate TIES. Tango remembered the shields. He could almost remember the weight on his arm when he looked at it long, like it would physically manifest at any moment. But it never did. He was almost glad. 

“Oh? What’s this?” 

Tango jumped, turning around to bump into Etho who was now sitting beside him. He followed his eyes, landing on the thing in his hand. Right. The tie. Etho’s tie. 

“It’s for you. Team TIES.”

There was a flash in Etho’s eyes, and Tango wondered if the same memory triggered in him. It did not matter, not now as he shoved the item into Etho’s hand, abruptly standing almost like escaping. 

“You don’t have to wear it, of course. But since we have, we figured out you might as well have it so you don’t feel left out.” He chuckled, Etho replying with a huff and an eye-roll. 

“I can’t tie ties, Tango!”

“You can’t?!”

“No?!”

It was almost unspoken. Tango sat down again, but Etho did not want it around his neck or collar. On his wrist, where he could hide it under his sleeve. Not that Etho did not care, that went without saying. But this was Etho, nothing explicitly said. How he was. 

They sat in silence for a while after, content in each other’s company. Etho dropped his head in Tango’s, letting out a long sigh. Before Tango could say anything, a hand found his, but not to hold. Fingers traced lines into the back of his hand; burning, bright lines like redstone. 

This was Etho, whether he knew it or not. 

Tango walked over, dropping some seeds in the nearest chest, lightly patting his shoulder. “I’m not going to say it, Etho.”

Before Etho could reply, Tango was gone. It was quiet, quieter. A ringing in his ears as his mind blanked. He looked down, peeking under his sleeve, the color red of the tie. 

_____

not me getting sick right on the weekend. awful timing. terrible timing. anyhow, no more breaks. this is not very daily behaviour of me also, dont mind my writing for the next couple days, i have no written anything and im trying to fight the sad so bare with me for a bit, fank you

[peachyloveswriting]

I really enjoy how you write Knives and Vash. I enjoyed the one with the sick reader so much.

If by chance could you do something with reader who has bad anxiety and panic attacks?

Maybe for Knives the reader is already feeling down because they are not allowed outside (sorta like seasonal depression I guess) and they feel of no use to him.

For Vash maybe something about how he says he wishes the reader wouldn't follow him and the group to Wolfwood or one of the others and they over hear him. He just wants them safe of course. They feel useless even though they have been able to keep safe so far. Feeling unwanted sends them into a panic.

Lately I have been pretty down and my anxiety about the smallest things have sent me into a panic.

Much love <3

I'm really glad that you've enjoyed my work so far and I hope you feel better soon. For now let me do some comfort and fluff. I'm in the mood right now. Also I've noticed that I sometimes accidentally write in first person so if I switch up on you guys I'm sorry Lmao.

Miscommunication and Self doubt --- Vash & Knives

SUMMARY: It doesn't take a lot to make someone feel worthless, maybe people should pay more attention to what they do.

Millions Knives

Artificial light, the only light that fills every room I've been in for the past four months. When was the last time I felt the suns on my skin, I had a fresh breath of air? God I have no clue. Ever since Knives took me in I've been stuck inside this tower with no hope of ever seeing the outside again. Just to make matters worse I get to watch everyone else do something useful while I sit and hope for a day that will never come. It fills my heart with dread every time I think about it.

I have no special duty, I don't run errands, I don't do chores. I sit and I act as a wall piece all day everyday. I stand by Knives side, accompanying him wherever he wants me too. Watching him play his piano, I feel particularly let down today.

Between the solemn notes and my aching heart, I don't know which was the straw that broke the Camels back, but I fell to my knees. Tears slid down my face and ragged breaths left my mouth, I sobbed, covering my eyes with my hands. Suddenly the melodious tune stopped making its way into my head and someone grabbed my shoulders.

"Petal?" Knives shook me with worry, he's checking me over for the source of my crying, but no injury is visible. "What's wrong?" He pulls my hands away from my face and cups my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. "Speak to me." His hands are gentle as ever, it's almost hard to believe that he's actually touching me.

"What's my point?" I choke out. "What's the point of me being here when I do nothing for you?" I pull away from his touch, another wretched sob falling from my lips. His face softens as his hands fall back to his sides. "Why haven't you killed me yet?"

Through my teary eyes I can see his blades slithering out from behind him, coming right for me. My heart sinks and I feel sick, he was actually taking my advice. This wasn't really the way I wanted it to happen but it was death, the sweet release. Closing my eyes, I patiently wait to feel him cut through me, to tear me apart and never wake me up again. Instead, I feel the blades carefully wrap around my back, pushing me forward.

Opening my eyes, Knives grabs my shoulders once within reach and pulls me against him in a hug. His blades slip off my back but stay close, I can't tell if he's actually debating on killing me or if he's just trying to keep me in place. Against him, I sob. It's hysterical at this point, I'm so lost. He has no reason to keep me here so why am I still here?

"Why?" I have no special purpose for him. "Why am I here?"

One of his hands rubs my back while the other holds the back on my head close to him, he's holding me so gently. I feel like he's scared of hurting me, but why? I serve no purpose to him. Even still, he lets me cry into his shoulder, and even rubs my back in an attempt to comfort me. It's almost like he really does care.

"You're here because I want you to be. I enjoy your company and... You're very interesting to me." He pulls away. "but I don't understand what makes you think I'd kill you. I clearly have a reason not to."

He moves his thumb to swipe away my tears. "I'm sorry it's just... I've been stuck in here for so long I feel like I'm losing my mind. I can't... I don't want to be stuck here for the rest of my life. I don't even do anything, I want to do something. I don't want to feel useless."

He leans closer. "I can assure you that you are not useless, you offer me entertainment, company, knowledge, and more. My want is for you to be comfortable, if you are not, I have failed. If you wish to leave I will escort you out?" His offer is kind, I'm taken aback by it. Seeing the way he usually treats things, this was not at all what I expected.

I shake my head. "I do want to leave but not like that! I just want to go outside..." I lift my hand to wipe the wetness from my eyes. "I don't wish to burden you, Knives."

He sighs. "Yet again, you're not a burden." Letting me go completely, his blades retract and he stands. "Come with me." He extends a hand to me. "I shall take you outside."

Taking a deep breath I grab his hand and pull myself up. "Thank you." He doesn't say anything in return, quietly leading me towards his room. Walking through the door I'm greeted by a large bed, I was sure he had never used it. It was untouched, sheets laid without a single wrinkle at all. It was like he'd never even touched it. He pulled me forward towards the large sheath of curtains, brushing them to the side. Bright sunlight fills the room and he pulls open a sliding door, turning to the side he gently tugs me forward. I can already feel the breeze hitting my skin before I ever step out. It feels reliving to feel the wind blowing in my face again.

Stepping out onto the small balcony, I press my hands against the rail and close my eyes. Behind me I can hear the door shut and Knives approaching. The air smells clean and the sun is purifying. I could relish in this moment forever, it makes it even harder to believe I'll have to go back in, I don't want too. I'd rather stay out here where I can feel myself at peace with the world, where the wind blows all my worries away.

"Feel better?" I open my eyes to see Knives leaned on the balcony rail beside me, resting his face in his hand. The corners of his lipa twitch up into a ghostly smile, almost non-existent.

"Much." I adjust my gaze to the city below. "Good. I'll be sure to accommodate you more often. I had never thought to ask how you were doing or what you might have needed."

I take a deep breath. "Thank you, Knives."

He stands up straight. "It's good to see you smile again." At the mention I could suddenly feel the smile on my lips, I hadn't noticed it before. "That's what you'll do for me..."

I look at him confused. "If you want to feel of use to me, smile more. It looks good on you."

Vash

"I'm going to sleep. Good night." You waved everyone goodbye before you claimed into your tent. The outside was illuminated by the flickering fire, Meryl and Roberto had already gone to sleep. It was only Vash and Wolfwood left after you. For a long time it was quiet, sleep was beginning to creep in and you were comfortable. That's when you Heard it.

"Why did they have to stick around?" Vash pokes at the fire with a stick. Wolfwood looks up at him in wonder "Huh? You mean Y/n?"

"Yeah... I just wish they wouldn't stick around." You don't get to hear him finish the sentence, you cover your ears and dig your face into the pillow. Something in your chest aches deeply, the thought of leaving the group after becoming so close to everyone hurts. To think the best out of all of them wanted you gone hurt the most, you didn't do anything to make him hate you. Was it that you didn't contribute? Everyone played their part but you... You were just there.

You don't do anything but cook and help set up camp for the night, it's not much at all compared to what everyone else does. Meryl's got a job with Roberto, Wolfwood is trying to keep you all from dying, and Vash.... He was looking for his brother, trying to save the world. That's more than you could ever do for the group, you bring them down. You get in the way of everyone's objectives, you don't contribute, what's worse than dead weight?

When you uncovered your ears, it was eerily quiet outside, the fire wasn't crackling anymore and Vash and Wolfwood had grown quiet. Heart heavy in your chest, you moved your blanket off of you and climbed to the entrance of your tent. Peeling it back you stick your head outside, the fire is almost out, Vash and the others are nowhere to be seen. You assume they've gone to sleep. Crawling out, you wrap your blanket around your shoulders and walk over to the truck.

The wind nips at your exposed skin as you reach up and grab your bag from the top, it slips from your hands and falls heavily on your foot. Your mouth shoots open to call out in pain but you hiss through clenched teeth instead. After hopping about, you pick the bag up and sling it over your shoulder, stopping to look and back sure you haven't woken anyone up. The silence gives you an answer, you pad back to your tent, quickly undoing it to pack it away in your bag. It fits snugly with all your other items as you tie it back. With everything ready, you tie the blanket securely around you as a coat and begin to walk away from the camp site.

The air is cold and lonely as you venture into the desolate night, from afar strange creatures call out, sending chills through your body. While running with the group, you fared well, managing to keep out of trouble. Alone, you weren't sure you were going to make it. Looking back at the tents, you realize they're much smaller than before. It would be pointless to turn back now, it hurts to leave like this but if Vash didn't want you there you were willing to leave. Albeit bringing you to tears in the process.

For the next day into the night, you traveled alone, not a soul in sight. The heat from the suns has just worn off and the cool nights air breezes past. You haven't stopped since you started, your legs burn with intensity, and your eyes threaten to close. It would be unwise to camp in the middle of the dunes, you searched for a rock face to settle down against but there were none in sight. You realize now that your choice to leave so suddenly without thinking it through wasn't a good idea, you couldn't go back now, they'd certainly have moved on by now. You'd just have to get by until the next town.

Suddenly, from behind you begin to hear shouting. It sounds like your name from somewhere out in the distance, certainly you had to be going crazy. Then it came again, closer this time. You turn to see what's calling out for you, running up on a Thomas, Is Vash.

"Vash?" Your eyes widen in surprise as he jumps off the Thomas, throwing you into the sand, hugging you.

"I was so worried. You scared me. I followed your footsteps for two days!" He pulled back with a smile on his face. Just before he was saying he didn't want you around, now he's acting like he misses you.

"You wanted me to stop following you." His smile falls. "So I left."

His heart falls to his stomach. "What do you mean?"

You blink at him. "You said you didn't want me to follow you around anymore. I overheard when you told Wolfwood."

Vash sits up, pulling you with. "I could see why you wouldn't want me around anymore, I don't do a whole lot..." He frowns, keeping your hand in his. "That's not why I said it." He tips your head up to look at him. "I said it because I'm dangerous. If you stay around me long enough you'll get killed."

I stare at him in silence for a moment. "What bout the others?"

He nods. "Them too. But Wolfwood and Roberto know how to keep themselves alive. You and Meryl... She only has a chance because of Robertoz but you." Vash sighs. Tears start to burn your eyes as you look at him. "Me... I'm worthless." It comes out as a broken sob, one that you can't stop from escaping.

Slumping forward, your head collides with Vash's shoulder. Shaking and sputtering, you sob against him, his hands rushing to soothe your shaking body. He engulfs you in a hug, hands rubbing your back and brushing your head. "Don't say that. You do an amazing job of staying out of trouble and you're an even better addition to the team. But I'm scared you might get hurt one day." His hot breath tickles your skin as he talks. "I want to keep you safe."

White hot anger rushes over you, you raise your head. "Then do that! Don't just send me away and expect that to be even better, it's worse! If you want me to be safe then show me how to use a gun."

His eyes are wide with surprise. You've never yelled at Vash like that, it hurt seeing you so angry. "If that's what you want, I'll do it."

You nod your head. "Yes. Anything to help, please."

"Of course. Let's get back to the others though, you need to eat and get water before you pass out. Sit in front of me so you can rest for a bit too." He takes your hand and pulls you to your feet. "I'm really sorry I made you feel this way." He adverts his gaze as he leads you to the Thomas. "I had no idea you could hear me, it was nothing but the best intentions, I swear."

Vash helps you climb onto the Thomas first before grabbing reigns and hoisting himself up behind you. "I know. It still hurts though."

His face softens. "It won't happen again. I swear. Just stick by my side and you'll be safe."

[hearthotchner]

— gif credits to the owner

summary: in which aaron comforts the reader who’s mentally exhausted.

— for @my-mummy-dust (who also helped me write this 🫶)

there was no other way to describe it, other than you were off. over the course of the last few days, you began to feel empty on the inside — like you were the shell of the person you used to be.

there was no explanation for it, nor did you know when it started. although, you were sure if you asked spencer, he’d provide you with a lengthy answer, which on any other day, you’d laugh at his absurdity, but not even his ridiculous facts could fix you.

you knew that your team would catch on quicker than you’d want them to, seeing as they were profilers. you knew they would catch onto how distant you’d become, conversation or team meetings. how you weren’t as aware of your surroundings while on the field. but one of the things that all of them noticed the most was how your personality, so bubbly and cheerful it was contagious, was now gone. leaving nothing but a dull, disconnected person in its wake; who just so happened to be their teammate who they loved so deeply.

when you were alone, you’d think about how something like this would cost you your job — they’d see how you were unfit for the role, and take away the only thing that you could keep ahold of. you seemed to have lost interest in all your hobbies, them seeming more like a chore, rather than something you enjoyed.

you snapped out of your head when you heard your name being called for the third time,

“yeah? sorry derek.” you smiled apologetically.

“don’t worry about it, i was just asking if you got anything for the profile.”

you hummed, pulling a chair out for him to sit with you, as you shared your ideas.

just before he got up to leave he said, “hey, you know you can talk to us, right? if anything’s going on, we’re here for you. all of us.”

you felt so guilty. they probably thought they did something wrong, and you were pulling away from them because of it. you wished you could tell him why you were like this, how you weren’t doing it on purpose, it just happened.

“i know, thank you.”

he gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder, when he left.

hotch had instructed the team to take a break, and clear your heads for a bit, so you could see the case with a fresh set of eyes.

it was him who worried the most, but the worry was always from afar, too afraid to come close, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pouring his heart out. he didn’t want to put you in a compromised position. what he felt for you, wasn’t right — a boss should never feel like that for his subordinate.

yet, that never stopped him from doing those little things for you: making sure your favourite snacks were stocked in the break room, he always bought the specific brand of pens that you liked, when he went out to buy his own. in the summer months, he’d leave a smoothie and a baked good on your desk, every monday, because he knew you found it hard to sleep with the heat, and were extra grouchy in the morning.

even if you didn’t know who it was, you still left thank you notes for them to find. they warmed aaron’s heart, and never failed to bring a smile to his lips — he kept all of them.

“hey, hotch, could you pass this to (y/n), please?”

he nodded as he took two cups from jj, and made his way over to you.

upon hearing a cup being placed on the table, you looked up at your boss, while muttering a small ‘thanks’ to him. he smiled in return, looking around for others, before taking the seat next to you. “i.. um.. i noticed you’ve been acting a little distant lately.” he started, voice hushed, as he stuttered to find the right words; before he could continue, he was interrupted by you apologising profusely, saying that you didn’t mean for it to affect your work. he quickly reassured you, “no. it’s not about work, your work is fine. i just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“i’m fine, hotch.”

he raised his eyebrows a little, “okay, i just- if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, my door is always open.”

your touch burned a fire in him, that he had no desire of putting out. “thanks, but i’m fine.”

reluctantly, he moved his arm out of your hand and left the room.

—

later that night, you stared blankly up at the dark ceiling, trying to fall asleep for the past hour, but it was like your eyes were glued open — no sign of sleep present.

becoming frustrated with yourself, you sighed. why couldn’t you sleep? you didn’t understand what was wrong, why your body refused to listen.

sitting up, you began to feel the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes — you weren’t upset, so, why were you crying?

—

in his room, aaron was pacing, back and forth. his interaction with you was replaying in the back of his mind, and he cringed at his own words.

my door is always open? he was so out of it.

pinching the bridge of his nose, “what an idiot.” he murmured.

a quick knock on the door, pulled him from his thoughts,

“does the offer still stand?” you asked, the look on your face shifting from a frown to hopeful, when the door was opened.

“yeah, come in,” he moved, “do you need anything? a drink? something to eat? i can order something.”

you shook your head, whilst following him to the couch. “then talk to me,” he spoke, “(y/n). what’s wrong?” he longed to reach over and intertwine your fingers, thinking about how your hands would fit into each other perfectly.

“that’s the thing.. i don’t- i don’t know. i don’t know why i’m like this, aaron.” when your gaze met his, he saw the confusion and the anger that lingered in your eyes. “i’m pulling away, but i don’t mean to. i can’t focus, i can’t do anything, and i don’t know why.” you cried, “there’s something wrong with me.”

somehow, you wound up in his arms, head resting against his chest, as you broke down.

“sometimes, there’s no explanation for the stuff that goes on in your mind. we can’t make sense of why we’re acting the way that we are, and we don’t need to.” he began running his hand up and down your back, “what we need, is to fix it, in whatever way is best for us.”

for a while, you two stayed in the same position, not speaking a word, whilst you settled.

“hotch?” you whispered, eyelids getting heavy.

“hm?”

“where do you get those smoothies from?”

his breathing hitched, and his eyes widened slightly.

“i had a feeling it was you,” he didn’t have to look to know that you were smiling; that thought alone made his cheeks tint a soft pink. “i’m glad it was.” you added on, pulling him down to lay next to you on the couch, your breath tickling his neck.

his back would be killing him the next morning, but he didn’t have it in him to care.

aaron would endure all the pain in the world, if it meant that he had the chance to have you sleep next to him every night.

[jayden-killer]

DREAMS ARE MY REALITY.

what would happen if your favourite fictional character appeared in your bed..?

Part 2

A/N: finally came back! Exams period is almost done, so I can mainly focus on writing fan fics and replying to your comments. Thanks to everyone who never stopped giving me support during these months.~ For this story I was heavily inspired by the "Reality" song by Richard Sanderson. Last night I watched "La Boum" and something clicked in my mind the moment the movie titles came by. I highly recommend that movie (and its main song!).

☆

Fantastic. Another day gone bad. Not only I lost my notes taken at university with great effort (who knows where they flew thanks to the wind...), but it had rained until the end of the afternoon and a careless car passed by at great speed, soiling me with rain and migo mixed together.

«Ugh! You fucker!» My feet stomped hard on the dirt, realizing that what had just happened was just the beginning of a long evening. I'll just open the front door, walk into the kitchen, and throw my comfort on the sofa that I look forward to.

It seemed like an eternity would pass on the way back, and my body barely even managed to walk, almost like a dead weight. Don't walk on the ground. That would have been the last straw.

«Shit,» I thought aloud, the moment my eyes saw my house from afar, «Finally home». Taking the keys out of the backpack was also, a real pain in the ass: a real tangle of wires and metal had formed there since my headphones had not been folded properly. A sigh escaped from my lips the moment I walked through the front door, searching with difficulty for the light switch. I didn't waste any more time removing the ruined clothes (and placing them in a water bath) and letting a hot shower melt my nerves. It was just what I needed.

I knew I had a smile as I lathered my body thoroughly. Now the scent of lavender was something calming.

``I should make some tea too``.

~

«Oh, now that's what I am talking about! ». My smile didn't leave my face, as I excitedly opened the book I had left hanging a few days ago, due to my exam period. Being under stress didn't help me find the concertation and desire to identify myself with the main character of the book. ``That's enough``. This thought flooded my mind. ``Now you can rest, because you deserve it, so enjoy your reading``.

``Thanks, other me, maybe you're right`` I replied to the little inner voice that I assumed had a satisfied grin on her face.

Yet my eyes fell on the mega poster that took up most of my bedroom wall: Miguel O'Hara. This man was going to be the death of me one of these days. I remembered the day when my heart wanted him only for me: in the new Spiderman, starring Miles Morales, many would have said that he was the perfect villain, even if I kept countering, claiming the opposite. Of course, his anger issues didn't help get people on his side. He was perfect in every aspect: tall, muscular, intelligent, thoughtful. My god, where do I have to sign to have him next to me?

«Too good to be true». I sighed aloud again as I pulled my attention away from the poster and back into my book. I think it wasn't long after I started reading and my eyes started to get heavy. I might have let go of the book, and fallen asleep with it on my chest. It had been a bad day in every way. Perhaps that is the reason I imagined hugging Miguel more than once. Maybe that's why I also felt my mattress getting heavier under my back.

~

I was awakened by the sun's rays penetrating through the curtains of my room. I loudly grunted at the thought of getting up early to do my daily cleaning chores around the house. But what harm would it have been to stay in my warm bed for at least an hour longer? Turning over, I had the feeling that my bed had gotten much heavier. Or was I still dreaming of hugging Miguel?

Slowly my eyes opened and focused on an unfamiliar figure lying next to me. I had a moment of confusion. Why...was there a person in my bed?

Only when I fully focused on who was in front of me I almost fainted on the spot.

"AAAAHH!" I grabbed the first pillow nearby, slapping the stranger hard several times, and leapt out of bed, the pillow still in my hands. The man, taken aback, tripped on the ground, and a great thud resounded in the bedroom. I hugged the pillow tightly to my chest. Oh, holy god. What was happening at that moment? I was so confused I could have sworn my face was as just as confused.

The man grunted aloud and scrambled to his feet, throwing his hands in surrender.

«What the fuck did I do?!» he yelled, in sheer confusion too. Maybe at that moment, I could have passed out, I swear to whoever you want! Because whoever I had in front of me was a real dream.

«Holy shit...»

«What?!»

I swallowed hard. «You are Miguel O'Hara. Miguel O'Hara was in my room, in my bed!»

[brainrotbabe24]

ISTG I WAS SO HAPPY WHEN I FOUND YOUR BLOG OMGGGG

Its so good omd ily🫶🫶💞💞🩷🩷

Anyway, I wanna request Thorins company with a reader with ADHD and finding out that reader has it

Thank youuu💜🩷💜🩷💜💜🩷🩷

Hi! Thank you for your request! I had so much fun writing this!! I have ADHD, so I had so many ideas from real life to add to this lol!!! Thank you!💖

Side note: I tried a new way to tell the scenario… It’s a mix of story and statement. Enjoy!💖🎉

Balin: 

You and Balin had been walking together for hours, chatting away. In mid-conversation, you suddenly veered off-topic. 

"Omg, it's a bunny!" you squealed.

Someone nearby muttered, "Can you please calm down?" 

You sassed back, "Mind your beeswax...I have ADHD; it's kinda hard to calm down."

Balin chuckled, making you smile. He loves your no-bullshit attitude and boundless energy.

Side notes: I imagine this is what you and Balin would be doing lol

Dwalin:

Dwalin was in a bad mood. So when he saw you bouncing around him and talking nonstop, he was getting frustrated. 

Before he knew it, he blurted out, "You are giving me a headache!!" 

You fell silent, mumbled an apology, then slowed down and walked towards the back of the group. Dwalin let out a sigh of relief, only to feel Balin slap him on the head. 

"You better apologize to Y/N," he said sternly. 

"W-what?" Dwalin stammered.

"Y/N has ADHD. They didn't realize they were talking your ear off, Asshole." 

Realizing his mistake, Dwalin nodded and slowed his pace to walk beside you. 

"Y/N, I'm sorry I freaked out," he said. "And sorry for being an ass." 

You smiled and accepted his apology. 

"Maybe when we get to the campsite, you can tell me more about what you were talking about," he offered. 

"Deal," you said.

Óin: 

Óin noticed right away. To your surprise, he started asking you a bunch of questions. 

"Can you describe what it feels like to zone out? How does ADHD affect your routine? If Kili had ADHD, what advice would you give him?" 

He was fascinated by your perspective and loved hearing it.

He would say, "You bring such a unique perspective. I really admire your energy."

Glóin: 

You and Glóin hadn't talked much during the trip; you were too focused on surviving trolls and goblins. Once you reached Laketown, you were surprised when he approached you. 

"Y/N, are you okay?" he asked, touching your shoulder. 

"Yeah, just a little banged up from those barrels," you replied, smiling. 

"No, I mean... Are you still affected by Mirkwood? I've noticed you staring off into space and getting super... bouncy," he said, looking concerned. 

"Oh, Glóin, I'm fine. I have ADHD. It makes me lose focus or ramble sometimes," you explained. 

He sighed with relief and gave you a big hug. "Oh, thank goodness!"

Bifur: 

After a long day of hiking, the company stopped for the day. Thorin was annoyed, making everyone start their nightly chores early. Bifur took on the task of gathering firewood alongside you. After you got deeper into the forest, Bifur noticed you were distracted. He paid no mind while gathering wood, occasionally looking up to see if you were nearby. He noticed you squatting, staring at something before he called out. You didn't even look up. Confused, he walked over to see what you were doing. He saw you squatting around some mushrooms, watching a green inchworm. Smiling, he sat down and watched the worm with you. There would be plenty of time later to gather firewood, so why not enjoy the moment? 

Bofur: 

You had been daydreaming during the quiet moments of the journey. It was one of those days.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" Bofur asked, walking up to you. 

"Huh?" you said, turning to look at him. 

He was all smiles, unlike the somber mood of the group. 

"Caught you daydreaming, didn't I?" he laughed. 

"Was I?" you asked, slightly embarrassed. "My ADHD makes me zone out sometimes."

He smiled. "No need to worry! I daydream, too. Recently, it's been about the treasure in Erebor," he winked. 

Bombur: 

It was dinner time at the campsite, and everyone was settling for the night. Bombur noticed you sitting alone, focusing on your jacket instead of eating. He walked over with a bowl of stew. 

"Hey, Y/N, what are you up to?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I was fixing this hole. It's been bothering me," you said, glancing at him. 

"Don't forget to eat," he said, putting the bowl beside you. "Not sure when we'll have this good of meat again." 

You realized you were so focused on the jacket that you hadn't eaten yet. "Right, right, right," you said, taking the bowl. "I swear this ADHD makes me forget the simplest things something. Thank you." 

He looked surprised but smiled when you added, "Actually, do you want to eat with me? I could use the company." 

You two stuck together for the rest of the trip, ensuring each other ate.

Ori: 

Sitting by the fire, Ori glanced over and saw you reading. 

"Oh, is that the book Bilbo suggested?" he said. 

"Yes, it is! You replied. 

"How is it?" he asked, leaning in. 

"Well, it's been okay so far. I just…ugh. I've been on the same sentence for like the last 10 minutes!"

"Do you need glasses or more light?"

"No, I have ADHD, so sometimes reading can be tough for me...actually, could you read this to me? It would really help," you said, handing him the book. 

"Sure, I would love to! I've wanted to read this book too." 

"Perfect!" you said, snuggling in, ready for the story! 

Dori: 

Dori was lecturing you one evening about how to clean your blades. 

"Y/n, you needed to get all your supplies laid out like this. Now I prefer to arrange them by order…" He droned on and on, and you found it difficult to listen to him. You ended up staring at his beard bead before you heard him say your name. "Y/n, do you even hear me, y/n?! Are you even listening?" You blushed, realizing you'd been caught. 

"Sorry, Dori, kinda zoned out....ADHD, you know," you say, embarrassed.

Dori is a little flustered by your response. He is about to say something when Nori chimes in. 

"Don't worry, we don't listen to him either," Nori laughed. 

"Nori!" Dori yelled, standing up to lecture his brother. Before he walked off, he added, "Thank you for telling me, Y/N. I didn't know."

You smiled, knowing there were no hard feelings.

Nori: 

"Ugh, where is it?" you groaned, looking around your sleeping mat. 

You lost your hairbrush for the billionth time during this adventure. Frustrated, you started to tear apart your bag. 

"Need any help?" you heard someone say. 

Looking up, you saw Nori standing above you. 

"Yes," you grunted out, looking defeated. 

"Well, what are we looking for?" Nori said, squatting down and picking up your bag. 

"I've already looked in there, you said." Grabbing another bag to look through, "... I'm looking for my hairbrush." 

You start to throw shirts and belts out of the bag before you hear an ahem. You look up and see Nori holding your hairbrush. 

"My brush! Where did you find it?" you asked excitedly. 

"It was in the bag you already looked in," Nori said, amused. 

"Omg," you groan. "ADHD: always keeping things interesting," you said sarcastically. 

"I know how you feel. Why do you think I keep "borrowing" things?" he said, giving you a wink. 

You both end up laughing. 

Thorin: 

Thorin has been watching you for a few days now. He saw you fidgeting, zoning out in conversations, and getting off track. He was nervous for you, thinking you were scared. One night, he decided to address it with you. 

"Y/N," he said, sitting down. 

"Hi, Thorin," you said. 

He cleared his throat. "I've noticed recently… that you've been fidgeting around." Thorin pauses, looking at you. "I know this adventure isn't going as planned. And… it's perfectly fine to be scared-." You cut him off, laughing. 

He looks at you, confused. 

"I'm not scared; I actually have ADHD. It just makes me... you know," you said, trailing off. 

Thorin nodded, realizing how much you had opened up. "I'm sorry, Y/N, for the misunderstanding," he said.

With a small smile, you looked up at him. 

"Thank you for confiding in me," he said, reaching for your hand and squeezing it.

Fíli: 

While traveling to Erebor, you found yourself walking next to Fili, talking about your interests. You didn't realize how much you were talking before you heard Fili laugh. 

"What?" you ask, a little confused. 

"You!" he says, shaking his head and smiling. “You're really getting into it." 

Your smile drops, and a slow blush covers your face. 

"Oh, was I? When I get onto a topic I like, I go on and on. My ADHD gets me going. I'm sorry..." you trail off. 

"No, no, "he says, patting your back. "I like that you get super invested! ... You're adorable when you talk about your interests." 

You hear "oohs" from the rest of the group, poking fun at Fíli's flirting. Rest assured, Fíli asked you more questions about your interests for the rest of the trip, hoping to get to know you a little more *wink wink*. 

Kíli: 

Double trouble. That's what they called you two. Since joining this adventure, you and Kili have instantly hit it off. You were glued to his side, talking for hours and causing mischief. One evening, neither of you could sleep. 

"Kili, do you want to play cards?" you said. 

Kili doesn't respond. 

"Kili," you said again, bumping his shoulder. He quickly looked up and smiled awkwardly. 

"Sorry," he said. "I kinda zoned out." 

You giggled. "No worries, I do that too." 

His face lights up. 

"Right! It happens all the time!" he said

"Especially when Balin is talking on and on—" 

"About how we need to pay attention. Same!" Kili interrupted excitedly! 

There is a quick silence before Kili scoots closer and asks, "Y/N, do you have ADHD?" 

"Yes. Why do you ask?" you said. 

He claps his hands together before saying, "Cause I do too! It's as if we're soulmates," he laughed. 

"Not sure soulmates is the right word," you said, blushing. 

He smiled and hugged you. "No matter the word, I'm glad I have someone like me around. Makes me feel good," he said, hugging you again.

Bilbo: 

Standing beside Bilbo, you could see him twisting his buttons. You had just narrowly missed death with trolls, and nerves were high.

"Here," you say, handing him a ring. 

"What's this for?" he says, looking at it. 

"So you can fidget with it. I saw you messing with your buttons." 

"T-Thanks," he says quickly, putting it on and twirling it around his finger."

"Are you nervous, too?" he asks, pointing to your fingers playing with your rings. 

"Yeah, plus it helps with my ADHD," you reply. 

A warm smile appears on his face, and he nods in understanding.

"Well, thank goddess, you have an extra one of these," he exclaims, his gaze fixed on the ring. "I appreciate it, thank you!"

Gandalf:

You were running late, as always. 

"Sh*t," you say, running down the road, hiking your bag up a little. 

You were late to meet up with Gandalf. He had invited you on an important trip and told you to meet him at noon. At this point, you were already 45 minutes late. Rounding the corner, you could see Gandalf in the distance, smoking on this pipe. Rushing up to him, you immediately start to ramble. 

"Gandalf, I'm really sorry! I didn't even realize what time it was. I got so caught up in a project I was working on that I lost track of time. My ADHD can make me hyper-focus on things, and I'm sorry if this caused any inconvenience. If you don't want me to go on this trip, I understand I  can-"He held up his hand, causing you to stop. 

Letting out a puff of smoke, he sits up and looks at you. "A wizard is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to….and I know, dear Y/N, that you arrived exactly when you were supposed to," he chuckles. 

You smile, knowing Gandalf understands and isn't bothered by your delay. 

"Come now," he says, "off to the Shire."

Side note: I kinda used the quote from the movie hehe!

[hexgaywire]

LUXIEM Bedtime Routine

Writing type: Headcanons

Rating: SFW

Total Word count: 1036≈(before edits)

Other notes: Implied some sort of established relationship with the reader (you can interpret as platonic or romantic, it's up to you)

Featured?: Ike, Myta, Vox, Luca, and Shu

Author comment: HA! with a blog name like mine you'd expect a XSOLEI headcanons first but gotta keep them guessing ig.... Please enjoy;; my headcanons are a stream of my consciousness if anything; I haven't written anything publicly in like a year ahaha (killme)

Disclaimer and Reminder; this is based on the characters made by NIJISANJI, not the people behind the character voicing them. If in the future the person expresses or states that fics of this nature makes them uncomfortable I will 100% remove this or anything I write about the characters involved.

Bedtime routine:

Always has a cup of sleepy time tea before bed

Will force you to drink one too (because you both have no sleep schedule <3)

For nights where you both go to sleep on time, skin care routine

Hear me out.... I'm talking face masks, creams the full sends baby

Once all of that is taken care of y'all will eventually change into whatever you sleep in (Oliver-sensei outted Ike the other day for sleeping in only boxers lmfao but that's not relevant)

He will spend at least an hour reading in bed before falling asleep, be prepared with a sleeping eye mask maybe?

Or start a night time books club with him because he will not change this

He is a novelist after all

Once he's done reading and the glasses come off, one of two things will happen

He will fall asleep immediately

Or you guys will be up for the majority of the night talking about deep stuff

You know those sleepovers you have with your homies where it gets deep, that's what I mean

Regardless what time you pass out you are sure to sleep safe next to Ike!

Extras:

Ike doesn't strike me as a guy who likes to cuddle in bed, if anything you accidently snuggle up to him he'll shuffle away from you

He sometimes will fall asleep at his desk which is a habit he only started since streaming, back when he was novelist he didn't have this problem for some reason

Ike sleeps with like one blanket? I hope you like the cold &lt;3

Bedtime routine:

I feel like Mysta's bedtime routine is a wildcard, you never know what he's gunna be doing to eventually end up in bed

You brush your teeth and he goes "OoOOoh I knew I was forgetting to do something."

Sleeping feels more like a chore to him then a necessity

You'll catch this man up at 3 am playing Minecraft and he'll still be like "Oh shit, is it bedtime?"

He's a piece of work to even get him to start to migrate towards the bedroom

Once he finally changes and lays down; he's kind of like Ike, where he'll immediately pass out or will spend hours talking to you

However the conversations are more like "Why is cheddar cheese orange do you think?"

GOOGLE IT IDK I'M TIRED

Once he finally falls asleep he 100% mumbles in his sleep, you find it endearing as you slip on a pair of headphones or earplug's

Extras:

Opposed to Ike; you will wake up either cuddling or being cuddled by Mysta

Despite the struggle to get this man into bed, he sleeps better next to someone

Known to occasionally sleep walk

You found him in the bathtub one time it was kinda scary

He firmly denies this ever happened

Bedtime Routine:

Vox is very ritualist when it comes to bedtime

He's also a very sleepy demon and enjoys maximizing his sleep to its full extent

So with him it's very "no nonsense"

He takes a shower

Blow-dries and cares for his hair

He brushes his teeth (While still in a towel)

Again h e a r m e o u t....

He's a voice demon that came back to life, he has a skincare routine for bedtime (Still in a towel btw)

All luxury products of course

After that he change into something comfy

For some reason after all of that this man sleeps in mismatched socks like a sociopathy

Once y'all lay down he'll watch some stupid memes on his phone of a bit or do some light reading

There is no in between

Once he's done however he is out like a light, usually within an arms reach of you

Extras:

Similarly to Mysta, you will wake up in his arms

It's funny because he insists it's entirely your doing

On the rare occasions where he can't sleep he'll get up and cook something

He says it helps him relax

The delicious aroma however wakes you up and the two of you share a lovely midnight snack

Bedtime Routine:

Luca tends to stay up really late

This is partial because of old work habits (if no ones awake to see you get rid of a body then it isn't a problem)

Luca like Vox though has bit of a ritualist bedtime getting ready routine though

Shower

Brush teeth

Change

Without fall no matter how late into the night (morning) it is

Once in bed, he crashes

The man is out like a light

I think because his bedroom is definitely his own space he feels at ease and can just doze off

It does help that he has a very nice bed I guess too

Once again you know you can sleep safe next to Luca, he wouldn't let anything disturb you

Extras:

Like Mysta, Luca does occasionally talks in his sleep, but not nearly as loud as Mysta does

He doesn't strike me as the cuddling type either, i think if you tired it wake him up

Despite being able to sleep easily he also wakes up super easily

Again probably due to his pat

Fear not though, once Luca let's his gaurd down again he passses out pretty quickly again

Bedtime routine:

Shu, like Ike, has a big cup of tea before bed

He swears up and down that drinking something warm before bed gets you to sleep faster

He's also diligent with his night time hygiene needs

Once again; for the final time, I'm asking you to hear me out

Skin

Care

Routine

You cannot sit here and tell Mr. Shu Sorcerer Yamino (eyyyyyyyyy) doesn't take good care of his skin

Off track but anyway

Kind of like Luca, once he's in bed he is out

I also feel like Shu snores but like not loud? It's kinda like white noise (like listening to ocean??)

Sleep well sweet sorcerer

Extras:

Shu is also not a cuddler, he's more the type to like accidently fall out of bed if you snuggle up to him

He doesn't like feeling the extra body heat on him while he sleeps

Off topic again but he also has a strict morning routine which consists of him getting up early

He's be trying to get you on board but like sleep ya know?

(My request are open plz send me some)

[kingofthefortress]

An explanation

Tl;dr - this blog will most likely never come back. It will remain on what is essentially an indefinite hiatus unless something else ends up happening and I change my mind.

I left randomly, and want to explain why I did, properly.

If you don't know, I'm mod Rat. I was the second TADC askblog and shortly after the creation of the Kinger blog(which you are currently on) I made @zooooble, an askblog where I attempted to write as my interpretation of Zooble as opposed to Kinger, as they were two major comforts to me at the time(along with TADC as a whole).

Unfortunately, we got off to a rocky start pretty much immediately, with someone sending gore in my asks, leading to the asks being closed right after they opened. A bit later after asks were reopened, I started getting more and more odd asks - including animal abuse on Zooble's blog, and people being very gross about Kinger here and in some instances, me. This continued until I closed up the asks, which I originally didn't know would be permanent.

This ended up lining up horribly with my irl situation aswell, not to mention the fact that I was frequently disrespected in my asks. Someone even talked bad about me in Zooble's blog, thinking we were different mods.

Through all of this other mods were having lore happen to their characters, it got so overwhelming to have to keep up on anon blogs, TADC blogs, personal blogs I haven't and never will show here, it was making this feel like a chore.

Not to mention Zooble - because of several shitposts that I now regret, people were asking me and mod Soup(owner of the Gangle blog) to make Google canon. It was and never will be canon. It is a ship that now makes me uncomfortable and as I understand it, Soup aswell as they are literally in a relationship.

I didn't want this blog to get to the state it did. I just wanted to make jokey things, but it all got so complicated so quickly. It has been atrocious for my health, mental and physical. And I decided I need to stop worrying about this post. I wanted to make something like it months ago, but I didn't want to let people down. I don't care for this blog anymore.

I started a comic at some point in here, really its mostly a blur, but I ended up falling out of TADC as the third panel was being worked on. The whole Kinger wood rot arc was just something I made to make myself feel more included since other mods were doing lore with their respective characters aswell. I regret it - he would've been better as a silly character, like I started the blog with the intent to invision him as.

The TADC fandom was alright for awhile, but at this point, I am no longer interested in TADC, the characters, story, or these blogs.

The blogs were great when they started, when it was just some people having fun, but now, everything feels so odd. It's all different and not in a good way, not to the fault of the mods at all.

If you still want TADC askblogs(in the OG askblog group) -

@thecomicallytragicgangle is to my knowledge the most active, @jaxtherabbit is to my knowledge either on hiatus or inactive(though their blog is still fun to scroll through), @blue-tooth(Moon) I am unsure if they are active or not but they're an amazing artist and have a blog that's fun to go through, @theoneandonlysun is still active(I think), @cainetheringmaster is somewhat active, @theclownkaufmo(Abstractions) is a shared blog where to my knowledge there are still a few abstractions taking answers. There is of course askblogs not in this group, but these are the ones I was interacting with.

I believe @pomniii and @ragatha1 are inactive.

I will be floating around in some places in the internet, but now, this is my goodbye to this blog and all my other blogs on this account.

I guess this is just a lengthy post all to say:

Goodbye TADC. I hope you enjoyed this blog while it lasted.