#‘If I was capable of feeling happiness’ WHAT DO YOU CALL THIS EXPRESSION THEN

[the-nameless-wacky-inventor]

look how happy he is tho 🥺

[lycandrophile]

i clicked on the original tweet just to see if anyone else felt as weird about it as i did because at this point i’m just tired of seeing people going on and on about trans men dating cishet men who try to convince them not to transition as if it’s a funny joke about a trans man doing something silly and not a manipulative and generally very unhealthy relationship dynamic that can hurt the trans man involved really deeply (as forcing someone back into the closet tends to do.)

did i find anyone else feeling that way? no. there were a few people pointing out that it was weird in general, and plenty saying it’s a weird thing to say about a cis woman, but nothing expressing any sort of concern about the tired stereotype it’s perpetuating.

but you know what i did find? replies like the one in the second screenshot, using the tweet as their chance to tell the world how much they hate trans men and how repulsive they find the idea of ever being compared to us. and replies like the third one, shaming trans men in relationships like that as if the fact that they’ve found themselves in an unhealthy relationship makes them deserving of public shaming, as if their relationship is hurting anyone other than them.

stereotypes like this just feel like yet another way of indirectly calling us stupid little girls who don’t know what’s good for us, and the fact that a picture of a woman is being used (even jokingly!) as an example of what trans men “like that” look like should make the implications of rhetoric like this all the more obvious.

it’s relationships like these that keep us miserable in the closet for so long and drive up our sexual assault rates even more. they’re not funny and if anyone is going to be making jokes about them, it certainly shouldn’t be people who have never been in that situation. if you actually cared about us you’d be looking for ways to support the trans men you know who are in relationships like that instead of hopping on twitter to joke about how stupid they must be.

i don’t care if it’s a joke. if it victim blames trans men for the transphobia we face in our personal relationships, adds to the common idea that we can’t be trusted to make decisions about our own lives, and invites even more blatant transphobia against us by people who unabashedly admit they see all trans men as “disgusting and phony”, it’s not fucking funny.

(i also want to note that the people making these jokes never like to mention that this also happens to trans men in relationships with queer women. they also hate those trans men, of course, and are happy to express that when they get into fights about trans men who date lesbians, but they’ll never talk about it in the context of this particular stereotype. it’s always a man being manipulative in a relationship and pressuring trans men to not transition, as if a woman would never be capable of such a thing.

they also like to conveniently ignore the existence of older trans men who transitioned after already being in a committed relationship with a cishet man and were able to make that relationship work despite their transition, because acknowledging that would require recognizing that trans men can be in seemingly contradictory relationships and genuinely be happy with their partner. who needs nuance when you can simply choose to judge all trans men for our relationships regardless of what they’re actually like?)

do you think they also would call me “a trans man being purposefully misgendered” with this kind of vitriol because i’m still living with parents who don’t recognize my gender instead of moving out before i’m ready to be financially independent? at this point, i’m starting to feel like they might, with the way every decision a trans man ever makes is the subject of a public debate and people have decided that trans men are secretly using being misgendered as a weapon to somehow hurt other trans people.

as a general rule, i’d say the only people who should be making “X looks like a trans man” jokes about literally anyone/anything are trans men, and posts like this show exactly why those jokes being made by anyone else (even by other trans people) just isn’t a good idea.

[luveline]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

the tension between you and miguel rises to an all-time high —a ficlet featuring a grumpy miguel and a flirty, distracted spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. fem!reader, 1k

˚ʚ���ɞ˚

Miguel has asked you multiple times to leave him alone while he's working. The strike force can't run itself (or so he claims —Margo and Lyla seem plenty capable, in your eyes) and he needs time and solitude to organise the protection of canon events, and—

"Blah, blah, blah," you say, dropping your voice to a soft, teasing melody as you skirt around his frankly audaciously jacked chest. 

"Don't blah, blah, blah me," Miguel says. You'd be intimidated if you weren't so happy to mess with him. "I'm not kidding around." 

Okay, maybe you are intimidated. That just makes messing with him more fun. 

The room he operates from, as you've so fondly monikered The Office, is in organised chaos, and much too dark. You drag a lone chair toward his control panel and set yourself down in front of all his screens and computers. 

"Ooh," you hum, reaching for an unlabelled switch with a purposeful slowness. 

Predictably, Miguel slams his hand over yours, yanking your chair back with an annoyed, "No." 

"Come on, Miguel. What harm could I possibly do?"

"You could–" 

"Topple the multiverse?" you suggest. "I've heard." 

"You could turn off every member of the Society's DMW. That's what that does. Potentially endangering each of their lives by stranding them in unfamiliar dimensions, and preventing them from correcting canon events." 

You feel bad for teasing him when you see the look on his face, anger and exhaustion and the slimmest allowance of defeat. It must be tough to lead the Spider-Society. Tougher to micromanage more than half of its members. 

Pulling your hand from under his, you cross your arms over your stomach and give him an apologetic frown. "Sorry, Miguel."

Evidence of his sweet spot for you lines his expression, softening his sharp jaw and the stoic set of his brow. It's gone as quick as it came, and his mask falls back into place. He turns away from you as though pretending you aren't there and scans one of his holographic screens, his face glowing with a yellow-orange haze. 

Miguel has to tolerate you, because you're a Spider-Girl. Though you've never called yourself that aloud, and you're not sure anyone else has, either, it's an undeniable truth. You were bitten by a radioactive spider that gave you super mutant abilities, though yours aren't as potent as others. You're not especially strong, you probably couldn't stop a bus with your bare hands, but you're smart. You haven't saved the world or anything, but you lost your Uncle Ben. You paid the toll. 

Every spider person has lost someone. Miguel seems to have lost more than that. 

"You know," you mumble, kicking the ground lightly to make your chair spin on its axle, "I've been thinking…" 

"That's never good." 

"Why do we wear our suits here?" you ask, spinning for a second time, the room moving past your eyes in flashes. "It seems performative." 

"Ah, I can answer that. Some of us work when we're here." 

You wrinkle your nose at his deadpan and kick the floor again, spinning so fast it makes you laugh. "What did you say? I can't hear you from your high horse– woah!" 

Miguel grabs the back of your chair, bringing you to a sudden and firm stop. You blink hoping it'll assuage the dizziness between your eyes, and when it doesn't work you keel forward, muttering, "Woah, I'm gonna die." 

"You won't die." 

"How do you know?" you ask. 

"You're under my watch, aren't you?" 

"I knew you liked me," you say. "Oh, I don't feel well." 

"You brought it on yourself." 

You catch your breath. When you feel okay enough to stand you almost trip, and Miguel doesn't bother pretending that he had any intention of stopping you from landing flat on your face. The you before the spider bite would've wiped out. This you giggles and holds Miguel's elbow for a second while you plant your feet. 

"Okay, boss-man," you ask, looking up at the unnaturally high screen he's investigating. "What are we doing today?" 

"I'm supervising a task force operation on Earth-31913. You're going home." 

"Miguel," you say, not sure if you want to flirt with him or piss him off. He looks incredibly pissed off already, so you choose flirtation. "Have I told you how handsome you look this evening?" 

He doesn't react. His hands don't so much as shift where they're akimbo on his hips. 

"You really have the most handsome eyes," you continue, weaving around his arm to stand in front of him. You have to crane your neck to see them. "Sulky. Do I really have to go home? I'd rather stay here with you." 

He looks down his nose at you. "Yeah?" he asks quietly, his voice rough as hewn stone.

"Yeah," you say, taking a small step back. 

"And do what?" 

You mirror his stance, hands on your hips. Your suit isn't form fitting like his, doesn't showcase nearly so much lean muscle, but you like it. You'd chosen a simple black ensemble to match the spider who bit you with a pinky purple heart over your stomach. Miguel had asked about it once, just once, when you'd first met and he had no idea how much of a problem for him you were going to become. 

Why there? 

Why do you think? you'd asked, giving him a sticky-sweet smile. 

Forget I asked. 

He lifts a hand to your chin, pinching it between two deft fingers. You're lucky he isn't wearing his gloves; his claws would pierce your jaw. 

"What do you want to do?" he asks, again so quietly. "If you stay?" 

"I could help with the task force." 

"That's what you want to do?" 

You flush with heat but refuse to let him know how you're feeling. Your heart bumps against your ribs, breath caught in your throat as he tilts your head up, as he leans down. 

"No," he says near your lips, "that's not it." 

"I could help you?" you offer. 

Something flashes in his eyes. You hesitate to call it lust. It reminds you of a cat with a mouse in it’s clutches, only his pupils are blown, black and inky and wide as dimes. 

"You want to help me?" he asks, his lips an inch, half of that from yours. 

You nod minutely. "Yes," you say under your breath. 

His hand moves to your cheek. He leans in closer and closer, until there's a hair's width of air between his mouth and yours, the tips of your noses bent together. His breath fans over your bottom lip and it's hot. You swear you can feel his heart as his chest presses to yours. He lingers there for an endless handful of seconds, silently egging you on.

You call his bluff and refuse to close the distance. 

Miguel pushes you away from him, far from cruel but certainly not sweet. "I have a tower of paperwork you can file," he says. 

"Here I thought you were finally going to bite my head off," you hum. "You're a sore loser, Miguel." 

"And you're my pest," he says, holding your gaze for a half-second too long. He turns away. "Lyla? Arrange the recounts from the last canon event for Spider-Girl's perusal, please." 

"So you've remembered I'm here?" Lyla asks wryly.

You don't mind the paperwork. You sign each one with a winky face and a pink gel pen heart, knowing Miguel will go over them all again, and knowing he'll grow angrier and angrier with each heart.

He'll kiss you and mean it one day. You just have to play the waiting game.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Gala, But It's Not Wayne, It's Masters

This just lives rent-free in my brain, so I'm here to share. And maybe get help.

Batfam probably don't only go to galas and events in Gotham, right. Bryce Wayne is a rich bitch and WE has contracts and ties around the world, so Wayne Wards have to attend events out of state (and out of country) from time to time. This time, they are invited by Vladimir Masters, the owner of DalvCo.

Coincidentally, Vladimir Masters is rumored to have some hidden Kryptonite stash. So Bruce decides to go, taking some of his kids with him, because it is also rumored that Masters has two wards of his own, and, first, Bruce has to bring his kids for disguise, second, he needs them for some team building, bonding and whatnot, and last, he really needs to check if Masters' children are living in a safe environment. Cue all his family making fun of him for wanting to adopt more kids.

What makes the jokes even worse is that both Master's kids have black hair and blue eyes.

When they arrive, they are greeted with a sight of a full-sized gothic castle. It looks really out of place in Illinois, but the vampire vibes are there, definitely. And said vibes only become stronger when they meet Vladimir and his kids - all three of them are giving the Batfam goosebumps, and not in a good way. Now, the things capable of giving Bats goosebumps are very, very limited. And never good.

Vladimir - he insists they call him Vlad - is a fairly tall, gray-haired man with piercing eyes. His smile is nice and polite, but it kind of reminds Tim of Ra's, which is, well, not a good thing. But overall, he is... Okay. They can definitely take him down if they need to (they really can't, but they don't know it).

The kids, though. They are twins, probably fifteen or sixteen, a boy and a girl, and they look like they came straight from a horror movie. Calm and even, mirroring each other's gestures and finishing each other's sentences, no facial expressions, and they don't seem to be blinking. Cass has a hard time getting anything from the way they hold themselves - they seem to only show any kind of emotion when they are addressed. Damian can't shake off a feeling of being watched, even though the twins barely look at him. Tim, raised in a family of socialites, notices how both of them have really nice manners, the kind you learn when someone teaches you etiquette specifically.

Bruce is unnerved by the sight. Are the kids mind controlled? Are they okay? This is definitely not how kids should act at fifteen at a gala, holy shit. Granted, he's seen not that many kids at galas, but the point still stands.

Now, at this point, I have a few ways this can go. First one, the suffering orphans way, Danny and Dani are actually controlled by Vlad, who wanted perfect heirs. Second, the little shits way, Danny made a deal with Vlad to attend a gala and Dani joined him, so now they are having fun with acting as eerie as possible since Vlad strictly forbidden them from shenanigans. This can be either redeemed Vlad or not. Third, the demonic twins' way, where Vlad is definitely redeemed and is taking care of the Fenton kids, raising them however he sees fit. Jazz is also under his care, but she is mostly an adult now, and they have more of a 'caretaker on paper and legally not old enough to live on her own' relationship than a 'parent and daughter' one.

Do the Waynes befriend them? Do Bats get caught while investigating? Do Danny and Dani cause trouble at the gala? Maybe they get to prove to Bruce that they are, indeed, perfectly happy about living with Vlad?

Inspired by this art

[keypaa]

Astrology Observations No.6

with lovely @sc0rpi0suntaurusm00n

Saggittarius suns, moons and mercurys don't have a social filter, they say what everybody is afraid to say blunt af. Jupiter the optimist makes them confident to say what they mean, feel or think (Sun,Moon,Mercury)

If you have venus in tense aspects with neptune you need to do a reality check of your relationships now and then, because sometimes you will put the people around you on a pedestal and other times you will dislike people because they don't fit into your picture perfect fantasy anymore. Just needs some work.(Neptune is like a siren that wants to sell you a fantasy that isn't there, and when you follow her whistles she gets you. Venus energy wants to receive, get loved and share love. So combining these two energies in a tense aspect like a square or opposition gets messy)

Saturn square north node + the south node are generational breakers. Their upbringing was hard and truly intense

Scorpio mercurys don't mind sounding too direct they will ask you anything if they want to know the answer. Oh I saw that you talked about me on a tuesday girls night with ... around midnight, why did you do this...¿😆

Capricorn suns please let us know how to help you. You go through traumatic sh*t, and after all that you stay humble and act like nothing happened

Jupiter aspecting neptune in a positive way love to create art (all forms of art), it makes them genuinely happy ^^ Neptune has to do with artsy stuff, singing, imagination jupiter expends this energy

Mars in leo want to achieve something (whatever it is) The ego is also ruled by leo, so leo placements feel worthy if they achieve something for themselfes

Pure devine love is something that pisces venuses and moons are capable of giving to human 🫘 But they will also text or call you multiple times if you don't answer (Especially Pisces suns with a pisces venus)

You just want to listen to people who have scorpio mercurys, they always have something interesting to say...They know the secret spots, newest updates overall everything that is hidden honestly

Taurus moons have the ability to become real successful and are some of the warmest people if they let you in :) They like to be confortable and also give this energy out to their beloved ones

Mars in aquarius are known to behave different than the rest of their peers. Nothing that is bad, we need more people who think outside the box and follow different life tracks

If you have your moon (square,opposition) your venus list of your emotional needs and your definition of love and find a solution to combine both, if you not want to hurt the people around you regarding showing them your feelings. Due to this conflict of wanting to show love and not being able to express your feelings as you would like to this technique could possibly help you (:

Taurus venus attract love easily (best example: Ariana Grande MASTER MANIFASTOR)

Leo moons love receiving princess treatment and they know how to get it aswell ;)👑 They are LOUD with their wants and needs

Gemini moons get borderline crazy in their love reationships. One day they LOVE the other they despise you and the cycle begins again (also if you have a gemini venus)

Leo placements are either one of the most timid people you will ever meet or they

want all attention on them

Why did I meet a whole lot of taurus sun boys that struggle with finding real genuine love

Mars in sagittarius are se*ually free people. They like going after their needs and what they feel free to do

Sun (trine,conjunct,sextile) jupiter are confident at their core or they come off as such. It gives the personality an optimistic vibe

Venus in virgo are the most devoted lovers on the world, they will not forget your anniversary (and get real mad if you do), take care of you, pay attention to your dislikes & likes

If you have sun in scorpio degrees your real personality is so hidden from the public. Everybody is going to want to figure out who you are only to discover a new personality trait of yours every now and then

Virgo man get the ick real quick. Why do they hate on women without a reason, boy get that frustration out in a healthy way

Aquarius placements may feel excluded from groups a whole lot but later in their life they find their people and have a good amount of friends around them. Also people who start trends and influence a whole generation (XxxTentacion, Paris Hilton,...)

@sc0rpi0suntaurusm00n part:

Pisces moon - these are the folks who you see drawing in a corner or reading an interesting book, whether it is mixed with fire or air there will always be an ethereal Aura or a mystery to these natives 🫶

Cancer moon - shy individuals quite often. Not ones to initiate contact but definitely enjoys some attention to their needs. Cares about their mother or maternal figure quite deeply. Often times these individuals have a significant relationship with the mother which is part of who they are, single mother raised is quite common and adoption is likely as well from what I have seen. There may also be a misogynistic type in lower vibration natives from what i have seen

Capricorn moon - they may seem like the mysterious yet charismatic type but deep down there is a lot under the surface. These natives being cardinal signs, they can relax into something and then when you least expect it their passion and drive is unstoppable. You never know when they're tumultuous emotional life might break through the surface and send them blazing toward a new goal.

Taurus moon - (I am biased as a Taurus moon myself lol🫣)they may have a soft spot for comfort and stability, and typically the pinnacle of finance, care, and stability (although when mixed with sag it may be expressed quite unconventionally) Taurus moon natives are the least likely to make plans and change them due to "not feeling like it" if they are going to do it, they will. Taurus moons are always sharing their food OR they will never let you touch it - no in- between lol😭

Aquarius sun - Aquarius is very different, what I notice in common is the respect for difference. Often these signs are good with computers lol (maybe just because I have 3rd house aqua). The Aquarius man can be so caring or they can be cold, but they have a soft spot always -whether it is a quirky girl or a Quirky interest. These are often the people who want to be first to do something- the trendsetters... Although some can just be quite on top of trends-i have never seen an Aquarius who wasn't ahead of their pears in something whether fashion electronics or anything new.

Scorpio moon - one of my personal favorites💕, but I'm so biased lol(Scorpio stellium🤫) although these natives are known for having rough lives which is true, these peeps are totally down for a trauma dump sesh, or just a really good rant when you are their close friend. The female Scorpio moons are often friends with more females- might be gay even but too stubborn to act on it. There is always something interesting going on in their emotional world. Either the purest virgin or somewhere between that and a man eater... Scorpio moons do not play around, they are often no bs types whether mixed with air or fire -except for Libra placements sometimes if undeveloped.

Aries moons - omg 🤍 y'all are so passionate with your emotions, like if you are mad you can have a hard time hiding it, but yall are just made to be a ball of passion. There is nothing you do that you do not put your whole heart into, if you don't have your heart in it you won't do it. You can set boundaries a little too rough sometimes for us water signs, but it's okay because you are baddies and need that extra space for chasing passions. PLuS You are always loyal anyways so we don't mind. Aries moon has a really hard time holding a grudge against people, because y'all just want to live and let live. Amazing peoples! especially the girlies whom I have met. The lower vibrations can be super flirty and super flighty tho🫠

Pisces and Aries are actually a really great duo, despite what the horoscope things so often say - pisces and Aries are the most common duo i see i believe this is due to the fact that pisces is at the end of the zodiac and Aries is new to the cycle. Its like opposites but they are also alike which is perfect for a friendship.

Unlike me, a scorpio, since i don't often have libra best friends although libras fall into my 11th house - might be due to my lilith placement being in libra as well...😭

Virgo mercury can be so intentional with their words, and this mixed with virgo mars can make for a really sharp mind but also sharp words in an argument.

- That is part of what makes cancer (sun/moon) and virgo moon a good pair in a relationship, because cancer (sun/moon) is very emotionally intelligent and virgo moon is often good at compartmentalizing emotions and rationally dealing with emotions, and often times cancer (sun/moon) need to learn to balance emotions with reason

Moon quincunx to Mars or mars square moon aspects may cause anger issues in men, specifically cancer moon Sagittarius Mars or Aries Mars. As well as Aquarius moon with Virgo mars.

Pisces placements remind me of the most beautiful expression of emotions. The positive expression of pisces placements can be expressing deep and dark emotions through arts, music, love, and things that are beautiful expressions of feelings. Some pisces placements are old souls having to go through rough experiences in childhood, like experiencing many be lifetimes in one life, it reminds me of what I believe mMitski said best 'I was so young when I behaved 25'

April Mercury Rx in Aries!? Was I the only one or no? - there were so many fights and arguments...as well as exes coming back 🫣 like as a scorpio mercury rx it wasn't that crazy for me but my friends had their exes come back into their lives and there was even a small fight which is very mars..

_______________________________________________

If you would like you can join my spiritual family glad to have you here, and never back down never WhAaAT! Keep your hopes in life up always¡ :)

Luvv muah

555

7:25 PM

© 2024 the content is subject to the copyright and responsibility of the author

[anniebeemine]

Mom’s Night Out- s.r. x fem!reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, pure fluff

“You deserve a night out. You know you do,” JJ said firmly, her arms crossed as she stood in your living room.

You’d given a vague answer when they invited you out earlier in the day. Now, JJ and Emily were standing in your home, probably judging the sloppy bun at the nape of your neck and the rag thrown over your shoulder.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I know, I know. But it’s just...”

Emily cut in, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just what? They’re six months old, Y/N. Spencer’s more than capable of handling one night on his own.”

“I don’t know, ladies.” You looked over at Spencer who was currently talking over his shoulder to the baby strapped on his back, his hand cradling the baby on his front. They were going through a phase where they couldn’t sleep unless they were being bounced. “He’s never been alone with both of them.”

JJ and Emily exchanged amused glances, their expressions a mix of encouragement and mischief. “Come on, Y/N,” JJ urged, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “He’s going to be fine. You need a night out.”

“Yeah,” Emily chimed in, her tone playful. “It’s just a few hours. Spencer can handle it.”

You bit your lip, glancing back at Spencer. He was now making silly faces at Anthony, who giggled in delight, while Daniel babbled happily on his back. “I don’t know…” you hesitated, your protective instincts kicking in.

Spencer caught your eye and smiled reassuringly. “We’ll be okay,” he said softly. “Go have fun. The boys and I will manage.”

You sighed, feeling a mixture of anxiety and excitement. “Alright, but if anything happens, you call me immediately,” you warned, giving him a pointed look.

You disappeared upstairs and found an old dress and let your hair fall into crunchy waves. You ran a straighter over the waves in an attempt to smooth them out. Forgoing makeup, you met your two friends downstairs. You reminded Spencer to have the boys back in bed before long.

“Or else they’ll be up early and-“

Spencer raised his eyebrows. “I’m telling you think because I love you, but go,” he said softly. “Get out of here.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, placing a kiss to the twins’ scalp before placing one on Spencer’s cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

With one last look at Spencer and the boys, you headed out the door with your friends, a sense of freedom washing over you. Spencer watched you go, the door closing behind you with a soft click. He turned his attention back to the twins, smiling at their innocent faces. "Alright, boys, it's just us tonight," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Let's show Mommy we can handle this."

“To the bar!” Penelope cheered as you got into the backseat with Emily.

“I thought we were going for dinner?” You said meekly.

Emily wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “We can get food at the bar.

-

It was well past midnight when Spencer's phone rang, waking him from a light sleep. He answered quickly, hearing your slightly slurred but happy voice on the other end.

"Spence, I need a ride home," you said, giggling.

Spencer rubbed his eyes and glanced at the twins, who were sound asleep in their cribs that had been stationed in your bedroom. "Okay, where are you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice low.

“JJ’s.” You hicupped. “Called an Uber.”

Spencer smiled despite his grogginess. "I'm glad you did. I'll be there soon. Just stay with Penelope, alright?"

"Yes, sir," you teased, your giggle echoing through the phone.

He got up and gently transferred the sleeping twins into their car seats, taking extra care not to wake them. Once they were securely fastened, he carried them to the car and headed to JJ's house.

When he arrived, you were waiting outside with JJ, Emily, and Penelope, all of you looking a bit worse for wear but incredibly happy. You were slumped against the porch railing. You spotted him and ran over, nearly tripping in your excitement. Emily handed Spencer the shoes you’d kicked off earlier.

"Spence!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him. "You're my husband!" You turned around to the girls, practically parading Spencer around as he smiled widely. “You guys are not going to believe how amazing this guy is,” you slurred.

He chuckled, catching you before you could fall. "Let's get you home."

“My babies!” You whisper shouted, climbing into the front seat. Spencer tried to help you as you wiggled over the console and into the backseat, settling between the two car seats.

You leaned over to Anthony, placing a kiss on his cheek, then on his forehead. You did the same to Daniel. Spencer smiled at the red lipstick smudged over his son’s faces. “Are we ready?”

You nodded giddily, one hand on each twin. As the car started moving, you let out a dramatic sigh. "Spence, I need something greasy," you slurred, your eyes half-closed. "Like, fries. And a burger. So greasy."

He chuckled, his heart swelling with affection. "Alright, let's find you some greasy food."

He pulled into the drive-thru of a nearby burger joint, ordering your favorite meal. As he waited for the food, he glanced back at the boys, who were still sound asleep, then over at you, your eyes struggling to stay open.

Once he had the food, he parked the car in the lot and handed you the bag. You eagerly tore into it, a blissful smile spreading across your face as you took the first bite of your burger.

"Oh my god, this is amazing," you mumbled around a mouthful of food. "You're the best, Spence." You leaned across the console, running your hand up his arm. “Like the greatest freaking husband ever. Like ever.”

“Am I?” He teased, placing a fry between your lips.

You nodded, bringing your hand to his shoulder. “Like so great. You-“ you turned away to let out a small burp, “you took care of my babies. Our babies.”

Spencer laughed softly, his eyes filled with love and amusement. "Of course I did. They're my babies too."

You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes briefly as you savored another bite of the burger. "You don't know how much I needed this," you said, your voice softer now.

Spencer watched you with a tender smile, his heart swelling with affection. He adored you in every state, but seeing you so relaxed and happy made him fall in love with you all over again.

"Anything for you," he said quietly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "You deserve it."

You finished your meal, your head starting to droop as the exhaustion from the night caught up with you. "I think I'm gonna pass out," you mumbled, leaning your head against the front seat.

As he drove the rest of the way home, he kept glancing over at you, your peaceful expression bringing a smile to his face. He felt incredibly lucky to have you and the boys, and he couldn't imagine life without you. When he finally pulled into the driveway, he carefully carried the twins inside first, tucking them into their cribs before returning to the car to help you.

You were half-asleep by then, but you managed to wrap your arms around his neck as he lifted you. "You're my Spencer," you mumbled again, your head resting against his shoulder.

Spencer carefully helped you out of the car, your arms looped around his neck for support. You were still slightly tipsy, your legs unsteady beneath you as you stumbled into the house.

"Let's get you out of that dress," he said softly, guiding you to the bedroom. He gently unzipped the back of your dress, helping you ease out of it and into something more comfortable. Just as you were about to thank him, a wave of nausea hit you hard.

"Oh god," you groaned, rushing to the bathroom with Spencer close behind. You barely made it to the toilet before you started throwing up, the remnants of your burger and alcohol making an unpleasant reappearance.

Spencer knelt beside you, holding your hair back and rubbing soothing circles on your back. "It's okay, just let it out," he murmured, his voice calm and reassuring.

When you were finally done, you slumped against him, utterly exhausted. He grabbed a washcloth, wetting it with cool water and gently wiping your face. "There we go," he said softly, his touch tender. "Feel a little better?"

You nodded weakly, feeling a bit embarrassed but grateful for his care. "Thank you," you whispered, leaning into him as he helped you back to the bedroom.

He tucked you into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You were out before you could respond, the exhaustion and the alcohol pulling you into a deep sleep.

When you finally woke up, the sun was high in the sky, indicating it was well past noon. You groaned, your head pounding as you dragged yourself out of bed. Padding to the living room, you found Spencer on the floor with the twins, stacking blocks and making them giggle.

"Never drinking again," you mumbled, rubbing your temples.

Spencer looked up, a knowing smile on his face. "Was it the green fairy?" he asked, his tone teasing.

You squinted at him, confused. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," he said with a wink, turning back to the boys.

You plopped down on the couch, watching as he played with the twins. Despite the rough night, seeing him with your sons brought a smile to your face. "You're amazing, you know that?" you said, feeling a surge of love for him.

He glanced up, his eyes warm and affectionate. "I just want to take care of you," he said simply. “Open my phone. There’s a picture of you guys.”

Curious, you reached for his phone on the coffee table and unlocked it. The screen displayed a photo of a drunk you between the two car seats, your face beaming with a silly grin. The next photos were of the twins, fast asleep, with smudges of red lipstick on their chubby cheeks.

You took a sip of Spencer’s coffee, chuckling as you mumbled, "I have no idea where the red lipstick came from."

[whisperofwonder]

Kageyama Tobio x reader - 700 words

I will never be over Kageyama's goofy smiles

The photographer is starting to get frustrated - you can tell. And Tobio? He's getting antsy, to say the least. This photo session is taking longer than you'd anticipated, and you know your new husband wants nothing more than to be rid of his tie, and to dive into the food at the reception. First, though, the photographer needs to get her shots in.

"Kageyama-san? I'm sorry," She pulls the camera away from her face again. "Maybe just, ah, relax," She suggests. If anything, you feel his shoulders tense more. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of the stiff, unnatural smile on his face, and you grimace. You know he's capable of a real, genuine smile. You've seen it countless times. It's just that, the moment a camera appears, his lips seem to forget how to work. At this rate, your wedding photos will be little short of a disaster. So much for the photo collage you'd envisioned in your living room.

You're just about to put the poor photographer out of her misery and call it quits when your new sister-in-law steps in. "Can I make a suggestion?" Miwa asks, moving forward from her spot behind the photographer. "Tobio," She takes her brother's arm, "Turn this way. There you go." She reaches for you next, gently turning you so that, rather than facing the photographer, you and Tobio are angled more toward each other. "There," She nods approvingly. "That should be much better."

"Just a few more," You say for Tobio's benefit, reaching to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Sorry," He murmurs, returning the squeeze as his lips turn up at the corners, the beginnings of an unforced smile. You smile back in encouragement, hoping to coax it out of him. It seems to work, because as he rests a hand at your waist to pull you closer, the smile has finally taken over his face. You vaguely register that the photographer is snapping one photo after another, and you're just glad to be making some progress. Soon enough, she's decided she has enough shots, and you can finally move on to the reception.

Weeks later, you're lying in bed waiting for Tobio to get out of the shower when you get the message from the photographer that your photos are ready. You eagerly open the album, excited to finally see the photos captured on your big day.

The photos of just the two of you come first. The photographer had definitely managed to get a few passable shots with the two of you facing the camera. Tobio's smile is a bit forced, but believable enough. As you keep scrolling, though, the difference is shocking.

In the photos taken after Miwa had turned you toward each other, something completely different had taken over his face. In one photo after another, your husband is looking at you with full, genuine adoration. His smile is wide and warm, his eyes soft. It hadn't occurred to you at the time, but the two of you really do look like you're in your own little world. You feel warmth curling through your middle all over again. These photos perfectly capture every emotion you'd felt on your wedding day.

"What are you smiling at?" You'd been so wrapped up in the photos that you hadn't heard Tobio emerge from the bathroom.

"Our wedding photos are done!" You announce, still tickled by how well they'd come out.

"Oh," He quickly crawls under the covers, "Let me see." He hangs his chin over your shoulder, and you gladly scroll back to the beginning to share them with him. He doesn't say much, but neither do you. You're just happy admiring the photos.

"They're perfect, aren't they?" You ask when you've finally reached the end.

"Yeah," He says softly, and when you turn he's already looking at you. That same smile is back on his face, soft and warm. You can't help but return it. "I love you," He adds, leaning in for a kiss.

"I love you too," You murmur as you pull away, savoring the expression on his face. You love all of his smiles, even the goofy pasted-on ones, but the smiles just for you will always be your favorite.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request Welt, Dan Heng, Sunday, Gepard, and Argenti finding their s/o's poetry collection of them?

Argenti:

Would sit himself down somewhere nearby and read every last poem, each one leaving him with a full heart, butterflies in his stomach and another addition to the list of reasons why he adored your creative soul.

He’s extremely honoured that you decided to chose him as your muse for your poems, for he could feel the love and respect you have for him through your writing, before holding the collections of poetry made in his name against his chest as he beamed with happiness.

He’d even openly praise you for your works if he were to see you later on in the day, which would make you understandably upset and embarrassed that he went through your things, but with the way that he passionately talked about your writing and the look upon his face that clearly shown his appreciation and admiration for poetry.

At the end you’re the one who ends up being flustered whilst Argenti was still sending appraisal after appraisal your way, all the while re-reading your works and proudly reciting his favourite passages without shame.

Sunday:

He thought it was sweet that you write poetry about him.

He didn’t feel as though he was invading your privacy at all, seeing as how he’d like to claim that whatever of yours was now also his by osmosis…totally not because he’s fishing for stuff to hold over you and maintain control should you act out…

Anyway- he’s taking his sweet time reading each and every poem you’ve written with him in mind and smiling at the hold he’s taken within your heart, finding it fascinating what adoration could make one do just to express their whole array of emotions.

It was almost as though they were on some timer that others couldn’t see just to express all their innermost feelings towards the special person in their life. Then again love tended to make people feel as though they were invincible, so the unthinkable and accomplish things that they never thought that they were capable of achieving in the first place.

So it didn’t matter whether or not you were able to wax poetry before him, but it was obvious to Sunday that the moment he had taken hold of your life and your every thought, poetry has became your primary outlet for feelings that you weren’t nearly brave enough to say aloud to him. Rest assured however for that day will come for you to open up about those unspoken feelings of yours…sooner or later.

Gepard:

He feels as though he was invading your privacy by reading your poetry collection and wanted to leave before he’d inevitably get caught, but just as he was about to take his leave, he stopped when the title of the first poem caught his eye;

Everlasting winter

He found himself reading through the first few opening sentences and immeditly made connections between himself and the person within your poem. To say it didn’t take long for Gepard to realises that the similarities between him and the person in your poem were purely intentional, and that he was the one the poem was actual about.

His face was blossoming red upon the realisation and averted his eyes elsewhere as he takes in the fact that you found him a perfect enough muse for your poetry. Him, the man who couldn’t hold a tune to save his life, grows flowers that unfortunately don’t last long, and wasn’t possessed with the basic skills of drawing.

And yet you found something about him that was worth writing poem after poem about. He didn’t know why that was but he was appreciative that you found something in him that urged you into written it down on paper, where your affection and admiration for him would be forever immortalised…He also may or may not have taken a poem to read to himself later on at night.

Dan heng:

He had noticed that you left a piece of paper laying about one day and was about to call out to you and give it back, while scolding you for leaving your messes everywhere for him to pick up after, only to see that it was in fact a poem about him.

Red faced, Dan Heng still planned on taking the poem back to you and journeyed to your room where he found that the door was left ajar, but could immeditly tell that your room was empty. Sighing, Dan Heng opened the door and quickly made his way towards your desk, where’d he found more poems in regards to him.

Much like Gepard, Dan Heng felt as though he was reading something he shouldn’t but he found himself unable to look away as he was secretly tempted to know how you viewed him. What he found was nothing short of you portraying him in a way that he’s never quite thought of himself before. If he wasn’t already so easily made flustered by your words alone, your writing was enough to put the poor man into a catatonic state.

Dan Heng wasn’t use to being smothered in a love like yours. Where you felt as though speaking your love for him wasn’t nearly enough, so you had to expand and start writing it instead in the form of poetry. He doesn’t feel as though he’s deserving of it but isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth and is more then willing to try to accept the fact that you care deeply for him; especially when he can not find it within him to find anything about him remotely worth being with.

Welt:

He’s made copious amounts of drawings of you that he’s kept hidden in his room. So upon coming across your poetry collection about him, it only made him feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn’t the only one to express his innermost feelings through an art form.

Besides it wasn’t like he was actively searching your room for your poetry collection, he really wasn’t as he just came across them out of pure coincidence. He was currently about four poetries deep and was finding it extremely endearing how you viewed him in most of your writing: which was mainly as an well educated, wise man with a young man’s heart and restlessness sense for adventure, who had a talent for drawing.

Welt would chuckle under his breath at all the moments you’ve shared together, before you’d then went on to write about how beautiful he was in every possible way. From his sweet, insightful eyes that seemingly held all the knowledge you could ever ask for, to his calming, velvety voice that could lull you into a deep sleep within seconds.

You posed him as this figure of comfort, a figure of warmth and Welt soon finding himself not so subtly sneaking some of your poetry into his pocket to read for later. Your poetry only gives Welt the confidence he been looking for, as he would then starts to leave his drawings of you in places where you’d be able to see them; all in hopes that you would know that you had just as much of a huge place in his heart as he did in yours.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Discovers He Has A Daddy Kink | Shoto x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Pro Hero Shoto Torodoki x Reader 💋

Summary: Shoto is your Pro-Hero boyfriend coming home late from patrol. He finds you up to no good 😉 and decides to join you. In the heat of the moment, you call him "Daddy" and he goes absolutely feral. All characters are consenting adults in their late twenties. A hot, unedited one shot.

Genre: Smut, Romance, S*xual Tension

CW: MDNI!, A18+, Daddy Kink, Rough Sex, Femme Reader, AFAB Reader, Unprotected Sex

���Link to My Master List 💕

Neither of you see it coming when you say it for the first time. You didn’t plan on saying it, and there’s no way in hell that you could have anticipated Shoto’s reaction to the word.

It’s a Thursday night and Shoto got back later than expected from patrol.  It’s been a long week and you could really use a goddamn fucking orgasm to put you to sleep, so when it becomes clear your boyfriend isn’t going to be home on time, you start touching yourself in bed. You’re so in the zone you don’t hear the door open and shut when he arrives home, exhausted and sweaty from a long night out with his sidekicks.

He leaves his dirty hero costume at the door and stumbles into the bedroom in his underwear – tight black boxers that are a size too small. Shoto never learned how to shop for himself, and you’ve been slowly helping him build a wardrobe that compliments him.

He arrives in the doorway of your shared bedroom and sees you face down in his pillow, grinding into your fingers as you slowly pleasure yourself over your soft pajamas. His impassive expression quirks into a smile as he watches you squirm and shift your hips to get a better angle. He lets himself enjoy the view for a few moments, shedding his boxers as he feels his cock start to stiffen. He reaches down to stroke at himself, reveling in the way he gets turned on just looking at you. You’ve been together for 2 years and he still can get off to just the thought of you. He works at his dick for a few minutes, getting himself nice and hard as you continue to obliviously masturbate on the bed.

Finally, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to feel you. He approaches the bed quietly, then says in his authoritative Pro Hero voice “Stop what you’re doing, and stay where you are.”

You freeze, momentarily scared shitless. Your ass is in the air and your face doesn’t leave the pillow as you call out: “Shoto? You’re home?”

“I just got off patrol. Looks like someone couldn’t stand waiting for me.” He says softly, climbing on the bed and positioning himself behind you. “Looks like you got yourself all pretty and ready for my cock.” He reaches up and pulls your sweatpants down, revealing your ass. He slips the fabric down a few more inches until you feel the cool air conditioning hit your pussy. You shiver and Shoto smiles as he reaches down to caress your pussy with calloused, capable fingers.

You hiss in satisfaction when he slips a finger inside you, rocking it in an attempt to hit your G spot. The angle is no good, and you push backwards into him, craving more attention. You assume that he’ll finger you and then use his mouth like he usually does – so you’re surprised when he quickly removes his finger and shifts to replace it with his thick cock. His hard member slides easily inside of you, but you still cry out at the unexpected intrusion.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” He asks breathlessly as he begins to move, thrusting into you at an even pace. You groan in reply, happy to be full of his rock hard cock. He slides in and out of you leisurely, enjoying the way your pussy wraps around him so invitingly. “Fuck. I didn’t realize how badly I needed this.” He grabs your hips for leverage, slowly picking up the pace. You moan as he hits your core just right.

“I feel bad that you had to wait so long.” He says apologetically. “You know I’ll always take care of my sweet girl.” He thrusts a bit harder and you whimper as you build towards your orgasm, molten lava pooling in your core. “Is this what you wanted baby?”

His cock is stretching you out so good, treating you so well. You can’t even think straight. The words tumble from your lips before you have time to wrap your brain around them.

“Yes, daddy.”

Shoto’s hips stutter to a stop and you wine at the loss of action.

“What did you just call me?” He says, sounding confused. You double down, hoping to spur him to return to thrusting. You need him so badly, you’ll do anything to get him moving again.

“Daddy.”

“Fuck.” Some kind of switch slips in Shoto’s brain and he beings pounding into you, frenzied. His grip on your hips tightens and is almost bruising. He guides your bodies together again and again, chasing his high. You feel his hard cock slide in as deep as he can manage, kissing your cervix with a prevision that only a Pro Hero can manage.

“Oh, Shoto yes!” Is all you can manage to say as he pounds you into the mattress doggy style, all of his energy concentrated on absolutely railing your pussy.

You’re so close to cumming, your orgasm building and tantalizing you – just a few strokes of Shoto’s dick away. Your eyes slip closed as you enjoy the insane motion of Shoto’s hips. You’re absolutely cock drunk and drooling into the pillow.

“Shoto, I’m gonna - ” But just as your pleasure starts to crest, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your back. “Wha -?” He raises your hips and tosses your legs over his shoulders. His heterochromiatic eyes are blazing as he looks down at you, his bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat. He guides his cock back towards your entrance, rubbing his head against your clit for good measure before sliding back inside you. This new angle is absolutely heavenly – typically, Shoto likes to fuck slow and sweet. This aggression is a real treat. He does all the work, slowly fucking into you until he picks back up to his previous unbelievable pace. His pro hero body has so much stamina, you know that he can keep this up all night if need be. Your pussy flutters with the notion, your breath coming out in hot pants.

Shoto locks eyes with you and growls out “Say it again.”

Your eye lids are drooping as you focus on the smooth slide of his cock in and out of you. “Say what?” You moan out, enjoying the way your legs bounce on his muscular shoulders as he pistons into you. He slides a hand down from your hips and delivers a swift smack to your ass. Your eyes widen at the contact.

“Say. It. Again.” Your brain scrambles and searches for the words he wants to hear. With a start you put the pieces together.

“Fuck me harder – daddy.”

Shoto groans and shifts forward to rest his face in the crook of your neck, the change in position nearly bending you in two. You say a silent prayer to your yoga instructor and breathe into the new position. You cry out in pleasure as Shoto’s cock hits your G spot with shocking precision in the new angle. Your pussy squeezes around him and he’s in absolute heaven as he kisses desperately at your neck. He reaches down to deliver another sharp smack to your ass cheek and the mixture of pain and pleasure pushes you over the edge.

“Shoto, baby, I’m cumming. I-I’m cumming. Oh my God.” You feel the orgasm hit you in waves, your body shaking as you cum around your boyfriend’s perfect cock. The shockwaves of muscle spasms in your pussy pushes Shoto over the edge, too. You feel his cock twitch deep inside you before he cums, shooting ropes of ejaculate into your sweet core. As you ride out your orgasm, your pussy milks Shoto for all he’s worth and he groans out your name, unbelieving that sex can feel this good, this insane. He thrusts into you until your both over stimulated, groaning from the contact.

When you’re done, he pulls himself up a bit so that you’re in a more comfortable, less-foldy position, but he stays inside you for a few minutes as you both catch your breath. Beads of sweat slide down your joined bodies like raindrops, and you long for both sleep and a shower. You’re not sure if you’ll manage the latter.

Finally, breathing heavily, Shoto pulls out of you. He watches as his cum drips down your sticky thighs and pools on the duvet. He reaches out a finger to trace along the slit of your pussy, dipping into your sticky center in wonder. You shiver, over stimulated, and swat his hand away from your still-pulsing core. You’re on birth control, of course – but you and Shoto are usually so careful to use condoms. Shoto’s complicated history with his family makes him wary of fatherhood, and you both usually take every precaution possible when it comes to sex.

“I…I don’t know what came over me.” He says, shaking his head as he reaches to help you sit up. He uses a thumb to smooth sweat off your brow and tuck your hair behind your ears. “Was that too much, love? I’m so sorry if I took things too far.”

You shake your head, breathless. “Shoto that was…that was incredible.” You grin stupidly up at him, head foggy from your orgasm. “…I guess you have a daddy kink?”

He gives you a funny look. “I’m going to need to talk about this in therapy. This is clearly me dealing with my fucked up father issues in a new weird way.”

“…or….” You say optimistically, sensing that Shoto is about to shut down the way he does when his family comes up in conversation. “Orrrr you have a fun new kink for us to explore! Don’t overthink it, babe. At least not tonight. You must be exhausted.” You reach out and take one of his hands in yours, massaging up his wrist where you know he often aches from using his ice quirk. You pull him into a chaste kiss. He leans into the touch, grateful.

“There will be plenty of time for processing. But for now, let’s cleanup and go to bed.” You whisper, your foreheads touching.

“You’re right.” He says, scooting off the bed and getting to his feet. “What do you want – a washcloth and a water bottle?”

“Please.” You say, laying back on the pillow and stretching out your legs. Shoto comes back a minute later with both items.

“There is one thing I definitely want to do again.” Shoto says, his face burning a bit red as he watches you wipe yourself down with the cloth.

“What’s that sweetheart?” You ask him, curious.

“Can I spank you more often?” He sheepishly grins, his eyes darting down to take in the bright red spot he’s left on your ass cheek.

“Anytime, Shoto.” You laugh as you let him pull you to your feet and towards the bathroom for a shower. It’s late, and there’s plenty of time to discuss things in the morning over coffee and pancakes. All is well.

[hajiberry]

4:57 am - bakugou katsuki

+ established relationship, soft bakugou

“Hello?”, came your worried voice, the phone call obviously dragging you from sleep.

“Fuck I’m sorry I forgot how early it is”, Bakugou said into the phone, sounding unusually quiet.

“No it’s okay, is everything okay?”, the silence that greeted your question caused your heart rate to speed up. “Katsuki?”

“Yeah, yeah sorry everything’s fine. I just”, he cut himself off with a long sigh. “It’s just fucking stressful over here, I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time and I fucking miss you”

You weren’t surprised by this phone call, every now and then when katsuki was away for work he’d get to the point where he just felt completely overwhelmed, and you were the only person he felt like he could actually express his feelings to.

“I miss you too”, you say softly, trying to gather the right words “I know me saying this doesn’t help but I’m sorry you're stressed, and I know you feel like you're not doing stuff right but you know there’s no one else more capable to handle this situation”, he lets out a soft chuckle, and you could practically see his tense shoulders begin to relax. “I hardly know half the shit you go through with work but I do know that you are the strongest and smartest pro I know so if anyone can figure out what’s going on it’s you”

“Strongest and smartest huh?”, you giggle, wishing you could see the smirk that you knew was creeping up on his face.

“What can I say I only date winners”,

“Oh stroking my ego nice aren’t cha?”, he asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Figured you needed to be reminded you’re the best”, you say, earning another light chuckle.

“I love you”, smiling, you roll over, looking over at his empty side of the bed.

“I love you too”,

“Sorry I woke you up”, you shake your head as if he can see you.

“Don’t be, I miss your voice this is nice”, he chuckles

“At what 5 am?”, you shrug, a yawn escaping past your lips.

“I have off tomorrow I’ll be okay”

“Okay, but I’ll let you go” he says, sounding bummed.

“FaceTime me so I can fall asleep next to your face”, you don’t even give him a chance to respond before switching the call to FaceTime. “Hi”

“Hi”, he’s laying down in a hotel room, looking about as tired as you feel.

“We can both fall asleep”, you say softly, laying on your side and propping the phone up. He does the same thing, lightly shaking his head at how silly this seems.

“Alright well good night”, he mumbles, you both quickly getting comfortable, both exhausted from the multiple nights of sleeping alone.

“Good night”, you whisper, letting sleep swallow you up easily for the first time in what’s felt like weeks.

It takes Bakugou a little bit longer to finally fall asleep but he’s more than happy to watch you sleep safe and sound.

a/n: it’s been forever since I’ve written something omg but I’m trying to get back into writing so if anyone has any request throw them at me!!

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 6

Kara leaves the office early that evening, making time to swing by her sister's house on her way home. Kelly opens the door this time, and she can't quite hide her surprise at seeing her sister-in-law on her doorstep.

"Kara! Hi!" Kelly graciously moves in for a hug, which Kara receives as warmly as she can. "What are you doing here? Come on in."

Kara steps inside, and hovers in the small foyer. "Rescue mission," she says simply, lifting Esme's phone.

Kelly's eyes go wide, and she swiftly turns to call up the stairs. "Esme, honey! Come downstairs, someone is here to see you!"

There's a shuffle of movement upstairs, before a door clicks open and somber feet thud down the steps. Esme's features are duller than Kara's ever seen them, and though dry now, her eyes are red from crying.

"Hi Aunt Kar--"

Kara lifts the cellphone with a smile, and heart heart lifts as Esme immediately cheers at the sight of it.

"AUNT KARA!!!" Esme pelts down the remaining stairs and throws herself into Kara's arms. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Kara laughs, giving Esme a tight squeeze. "You're welcome, hun." She smoothes the hair from Esme's beaming face. "I promised, didn't I?"

Esme agrees with an enthusiastic nod. She swipes to open the phone, but the screen stays dark.

"I'm gonna go charge it," Esme announces. She gives Kara another hug. "Thank you!"

Then she's racing back up the stairs, bedroom door slamming shut in her enthusiasm. Kara shares a look with Kelly.

"Thank you," her sister-in-law echoes. "She's been torn up about it all day."

Kara nods. "I figured she would be. I wanted to make sure I got it back to her as soon as I could."

"I'm surprised the venue found it... I admit I wasn't holding out much hope."

"About that...." Kara hesitates. "Is Alex here?"

Kelly shakes her head. "Not for another hour." She studies Kara appraisingly. "Everything okay?"

"Just.... complicated."

For a long moment, neither of them say anything, the silence stretching thin between them. Kelly is the first to break it.

"You know, Kara..." she says carefully. "I know we've never really been close. But you know I'm here if you ever need anything, right?"

Kara swallows thickly, then gives a deliberate nod. "I know."

She knows Kelly is a kind, wonderful person. Kelly makes Alex happy, and if Kara weren't so busy, maybe they would have bonded by now.

Looking at Kelly now, Kara finds herself wondering... why not start today?

"The venue didn't find it." The admission comes short and quick, but as soon as it's out, Kara feels her shoulders relax. "Lena did."

Kelly blinks. "You mean... *the* Lena?"

"I thought she would send an assistant to drop it off, but-- she didn't?"

"What, you mean... she delivered it herself?" Kelly guesses, voice low to keep Esme from overhearing.

Kara nods. "And now I kind of... have a date?"

She watches a myriad of expressions flicker across Kelly's features, but before she can explain further, her sister-in-law settles on the most vital part of Kara's confession.

"A date with..."

"Yeah."

Another journey plays out on Kelly's face, nodding as she processes Kara's words.

"I guess," Kara continues, "I was hoping Alex might talk me out of it?"

At that, Kelly's gaze sharpens. "Why would you want that?"

"Because it's a ridiculous idea?!" Kara scoffs. "I mean... she's-- and I..."

Kelly shrugs at her. "It might be a little unorthodox, but she's not a child. She's an adult capable of making her own decisions. And it seems like she's made a choice to get to know you better."

"But...."

"Is that really so horrible?"

Put so directly, Kara can't truly convince herself that it is. "But..."

"It's one evening," Kelly continues gently. "Maybe it goes somewhere, maybe it doesn't. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't let yourself enjoy a night with a woman who is clearly into you."

Kara flushes hot, and she quickly scrambles to correct Kelly's observation.

"Kara, she found a way to not only notify you about the phone, but delivered it herself and *literally* asked you on date." Kelly shoots her a surprisingly stern look.

"Don't do her or yourself a disservice by pretending it's something other than it is."

Resisting for only a moment longer, Kara soon deflates. Kelly's right, and they both know it.

"So what do I do?"

"Enjoy the evening," Kelly responds firmly. "I mean it."

Kara nods, swallowing thickly. "Right."

Kelly's features creases into a smile. "Sorry. Not exactly the outcome you were looking for. But I mean it. You deserve a good time with someone who seems genuinely interested."

In the end, all Kara can do is offer a weak smile. "Thanks." She clears her throat. "I should get going. But... thank you. Truly."

Kelly nods with a sweet smile. "Any time."

---

Fancy, it turns out, really is unhelpful.

Kara ends up an hour later with five different dresses laid out on her bed, chewing her lip in frustration. In the end, Kara falls back on bad habits, and calls her sister.

"Kara?" Alex answers, concern plain in her tone. "Everything okay?"

"I need help," she responds. "I mean yes, I'm fine, but I need help."

"Okaaaaay... what's up?"

Kara trades her worried lip for a cuticle, still glaring at the pile of clothes on her bed. "I have date."

There's a beat of silence before Alex's brain clicks around the information. "You what?? Since when?"

"Ask Kelly," Kara returns distractedly, returning to the topic at hand. "I don't know what to wear."

"Since when did you talk to... what--?" Alex sputters for a moment, then takes a moment to reorient herself. "Okay. Outfit. Fine. Okay, so... what kind of date is it?"

"Dinner."

"Casual?"

"She said fancy. Whatever that means to me." Kara grumbles. "Whatever that means."

"Okayy... so, flexible fancy. Do you know where?"

"Nuh uh."

There's a pause then, as Alex considers Kara's dilemma as thoughtfully as she did a year ago.

"So something nice, maybe upscale. Well, I'm sure you have options that fit the bill."

Kara nods. "Too many."

Across the line, Kara can almost hear Alex ease into a smile. "Well, then it comes down to what *you* want to wear."

"That's why I called, Alex, I don't *know*--"

"What would you feel most confident in? And, what kind of reaction are you looking for?"

The question takes Kara aback for a long moment. She imagines Lena would appreciate whatever Kara shows up in, but strangely, that isn't enough. Not in the face of the desire that still lingered from the soft kiss that had brushed against her cheek that afternoon.

"Honestly...?"

Alex hums. "Yeah?"

"I want her to wonder what it'd look like on the floor."

"....oh." Alex's response sounds thoughtful, but Kara's hackles rise in defense.

"Do *not* tease me," she says sharply.

"I'm not, I promise. Just surprised." Alex takes a breath to say something, but releases it as she chooses a different direction. "Do you still have that dress with the bateau neckline, with the pleats? The peach one?"

Kara nods into the phone, eyeing the garment where it sits in the pile, second from the bottom. "Uh huh."

"That one."

"You think?"

"Trust me," Alex assures her.

Kara does.

[sickuma]

SILLAGE — a Simon Riley fic. 2/2

❱ again this was an au first written on tiktok! this will be the last part of it, please keep in mind that it is all fiction and that if you're going through the same thing and are having the same thoughts, please seek someone you trust. Please fight for yourselves, you're worth it ꜝ？ Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.

paring is Ghost x Reader this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !

Part 1 (^_^;)

SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.

—hey [name]? I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just really—

There was a short pause, as the voicemail erupts a slight static sound.

—I love you. That should have been enough reason. No, you were enough. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was cowardly, I figured that you'll be happier and safer, being with someone who isn't me. Someone who isn't a soldier.

It was the same night he left your apartment. He swore to himself he would not come crawling back. To protect both of you, at the time, it had been the best solution for him. Until the midnight strikes, he remembered just how serious you looked, just how accepting you looked.

Too accepting.

—because who knows when one of these missions would finally take me out. I can't let you suffer through that, I can't be the one to give you that kind of grief. So I thought leaving you was the best option.

There was a dire pause as he thought of the best words possible to express himself. He’s never been one to do such, but for you, he’s willing to be better.

—it wasn't.

He spoke desperately, almost shaking from just how much adrenaline rushed through him. He had just argued with the team, and after a long hour of explaining to them what he needed to do, he was finally permitted to bail out on this mission, it’s not like he wouldn't leave without permission, that's how urgent this is for him, he needed to get to you as soon as possible,

Even he doesn't know why he’s in a rush,

Maybe it's because of your silence, the unanswered calls, and unread messages that brought him on edge.

—I love you, far too much, my love, to even think straight without you. I love you so much it's hard to breathe. I so desperately love you to the point it hurts.

The desperation and sincerity. It was all there. He knew if he couldn't let it out now, he won't let it out ever. This was his only chance of being happy.

You were his only chance for happiness. He almost couldn't believe he thought letting you go because of his fear was the best decision.

He stupidly let you go, succumbing to the fear of dying while you wait for him. He knows better, he will do better,

For you. Because you're worth changing for, you're worth the risk.

—please don't hate me. I know I was an ass for leaving in the first place, baby, I am sorry. You loved me so much that it felt so good, I didn't know I'm capable of feeling that way, so I was scared that worse would come after. I'm not scared anymore. You looked at me like there's something in me worth looking at,

He felt like he was saying so much yet so little at the same time,

He had so much to tell you but very few words to express it. He needs to be with you. He needs to see you and physically explain to you just how much you mean to him.

—I won't waste it, love, not again. Please open the door for me when I get back. 

He frowned, realizing once again just how idiotic he was. He knew he should not have done what he did, but it was over with. The only thing left to do is to make things right somehow.

—I've never been taught how to love, I have.. I don't— I'm not the best at it. I'm sorry baby, if I'm not loving you the right way, and for leaving just like that, but I promise I'll be better. you're worth the better of me, you're worth learning love for.

He needed you, and you needed him. That should have been enough reason to risk it.

—when I come back, please let me hold you. Please forgive me for making you feel like an option between my job. It's you. It's always been you. I love you, baby, wait for me. I'll make this right.

As the line cuts, the static sound fills the eerie room of yours. The very same room he had walked out from, the same room where you sat breathing hours ago. There were no other living sounds except for the occasional ticking of the clock.

There were no signs nor sounds of life perceived in the room. The silence was thick. With your lifeless body beside the bed in a fetal position, a bottle of used pills tightly wrapped around your hands. It was light, about three to four pills left inside a newly bought bottle.

It was dead silent as if the universe sympathized with you.

Allowing silence in regards to respect for what has passed, for what has ended.

﹑

“My family’s never been the typical joyous family, I guess that affected me, as a person in general.”

You explain, running your hand through his hair while his head laid on your lap. It’s one of those days where he’d be much affectionate compared to the majority of the time. He requested to hear about your childhood while he rests on you,

For a moment you felt your heart and breath hitch.

“I guess growing up in that kind of household really—really influenced my well-being. It's given me problems and worries I shouldn't have.” You were hesitant to continue, “Fear, I started having fears for a lot of things.”It's as if you caught a glimpse of his mind, taking in the details you've just given him.“Fears like?” 

The moment the question reached your ears, he could see your body tense. He understood, and he doesn't plan on pushing it.“You don't have to answer that, my love.” he smiles, “No matter what it is you're scared of, let’s face it together, yeah? You have me. That's enough, I hope.”

Little did he know that fear was yet to come. The fear of leaving soon, the fear of being unable to keep going. How could you ever explain to him that you don't plan to stay long?

﹑

With a ragged breath from exhaustion, he dropped his things once again, the same way he did before he left. Facing your door yet again, panting as a feeling of discomfort plagued him, why exactly? He’s finally here. Why is he so distraught, he wondered.

“[name]?” he knocks,

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice strained, and his state dishevelled. “[name] please—it’s me, please answer.”

The lack of response made him think about just how angry he made you,

“I'm sorry,” he whispers,

“I know I was stupid and irrational. I won't do it again, petal, please open the door.”

To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. What would he do if you never find it in you to let him back into the comfort of your arms? Will he return to the familiar cold he had forgotten when he met you?

“[name] I love you.”

He desperately spoke, yearning for an answer; the smallest sign of acceptance. 

It was odd. How quiet it was. Are you that mad? He wonders, but then again, he knew you’re not one to ignore, not even when you’re the angriest you've been. You would never shut him out, not ever. “[name], please, answer, or I'll have to go inside.”

“Baby are you okay?” no response.

Each passing second was like a countdown. He was uneasy and distraught. Afraid even.

The silence felt deafening. He was afraid of what? He had no clue what he was so afraid of, surely you're okay...

Right?

“[name], I'm coming in,” he says sternly, fishing the spare key he oh so gratefully forgot to give back. His heart thumps louder with each action.

The moment he entered, the creak of the door interrupted the silence. He felt like he was intruding on an abandoned space. It felt wrong. He knew something was wrong.

“[name]? I'm back, like—like I always am.” his voice broke, stepping inside, head looking around, hoping to find you and engulf you in his longing arms. “As I told you, I’ll always find my way back… right?”

He kept speaking while he walked, checking and opening every door. Starting from the small kitchen to the bathroom, checking everywhere until there was one room left. He dreaded it, for no reason he was scared and yet he rushed,

He spoke, no—he goes on a tangent, 

“I'll take the month off. We’ll do anything you want, anything to make up for this. I promise we can even get a pet, I always say no, right? This time, I'll agree, anything for you, my love just—”

The silence rung,

Apart from the sound of the door opening by his force, there were no sounds made, not from him, not from anything. He simply stood, dumbfounded at what the room unveiled; at that moment, nothing mattered, not even the breath he had held unknowingly.

A ragged chuckle escaped his lips, though it was hollow. As if he was desperate to know that maybe this is all some sick prank. Maybe this was one of your silly games he always put up with, “Baby? What’s this? Why are you on the floor?”

“Jokes over [name] get up—”

When it all came to view, he was silenced. The second he stepped closer, he saw how your body lay lifeless, how you held that bottle, and how his eyes drifted onto the lone tear, which evidently dried along the hours. 

How long have you been here?

In this state? How long has it been since you left him?

He couldn't feel. He couldn't grasp his head around the sight before him. He’s well familiar with death. He’s seen it before, and he’s lost comrades before, but nothing comes close to what lay in front of him. 

How does one react when their lifeline lies lifeless before their very eyes?

He couldn't approach nor speak. He simply stood with weak knees, tempting to give out. It didn't take him long to crouch, eyes wide open with lips parted slightly. There were no tears, no emotions, the moment numbed him. It didn't feel like reality,

There he crouched, just a few steps away from you. It didn't feel like his heart dropped. It felt almost worse, as if you'd taken it with you. How could this have happened? Did he cause this?

If you had told him a day ago that he would witness the person he loved the most laying on the floor devoid of life, he would have laughed at your face, punching you even. This isn't reality. This isn't a reality he wants to face.

It took every courage in his body to bring himself closer to you, afraid of what more he’d discover. With slow steps, he drew closer, grabbing your hand was the first thing he thought of doing. “Oh god…” his voice broke,

Your body isn't as warm as it used to be,

Not as he remembered. The warmth he loved when he would hold you against him, it’s gone. You're gone.

He had felt countless of stiff lifeless bodies and yet yours hurt the most,

The mere thought of it destroyed him. It hasnt sinked in yet, but he could tell. He could tell his demise is near. The realization will hit him in a short while. 

“Baby, im home…” this wasn't him. This was not his voice. Stuttering over the easiest words, strained with pent-up sobs. His chest felt heavy, almost making it difficult to breathe. 

Yet with hitched breath, he picked up your limp body and placed you in his arms, crushing your icy body against him. He held you tightly, but his hands cradled your body tenderly. It was as if he’s afraid of hurting you more.

Ghost was forever fearless, always facing whatever challenge was given to him, even his mortal enemy would know that he isnt necessarily the easiest solder to crack, let alone destroy and yet he finds himself sat on the floor holding the lifeless frame of his lover,

Cradling whatever is left of you,

Desperately holding onto what he can possibly hold on to.

The lieutenant everyone looked up on, admired and viewed as an admirable man, sat on the floor with a weighing heart. Holding back the tears that had formed without his knowledge as he held your body, 

but right now, he wasn't lieutenant simon ‘ghost’ riley.

At this moment, he was just simon, the simon you loved desperately, the simon who loved you just as insanely.

This person right this moment was your simon,

He wasnt anyone else, he was yours.

As he sat on the hard cold floor, thoughts roaming with his heart screaming, he felt like a mess, but that didn't matter. Words can not describe the regret, remorse, and stupidity he felt,

If i didnt leave,

If i didn't walk out that door,would you still have been alive in my arms?Would i still have to hold you soulless?

He held you closer, bringing you closer to him, as close as possible. He felt nothing but regret, nothing but anger for himself. Why is it that the very grief he tried to protect you from, the same reason he left, the same grief he avoided you to feel, why is it that he’s feeling it now?

His ragged sobs filled the room, and the rest remained still as if everything sympathized for him. As if the world understood the hurt he carried. He sobs, holding onto you as if doing so would bring you back. He knew nothing well, and yet he foolishly cried, hoping you’ll hear him and come back to ease the pain.

Like you always did.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw the letters piled not far from them. Without standing, nor letting go of you, he reached for it. Reading the names addressed on each, until he sees the one for him.

Of all the few letters he saw, his was the only one with tear drops which ruined the ink in front, almost unable to read, he brought it closer, dropping the rest.

Simon,

I felt everything.

Thank you, and im sorry,

I love you :)

Swallowing the impossibly heavy lump on his throat, he opened the carefully folded letter. He was met with even more tear drops. The thought of you crying, alone, while you write him a letter to bid him goodbye, crushed his soul.

He cant imagine a greater pain,

It felt surreal.

How could I..

How could I have lost you this easily.

With his blurry vision, he starts to read—well—attempt to. With every sentence, every punctuation, every meaning of your words, all of it felt like a slap to reality.

How could he have not seen?

How did he not notice? Not paying attention to what you were going through? How could he have been so careless as to leave you all alone.

The very fear you spoke of,

He did just exactly what your family had done.

If anybody could have saved me,

it would have been you.

He read the part over and over again, allowing your words to cut through his heart repeatedly. He left you, and yet, at the end of the day, you still see him as someone—the only one who could save you. 

Despite the war inside your mind,

Inside your mind and unwavering emotions, which he hadn't bothered to unveil, he remained the most important person.

May it be in your chaotic mind or the furthest crevices of your heart, he remained on both.

He read it all,

Understanding every single thing you failed to say in person,

Everything you failed to say while you still lived.

It hurts even more. He thought nothing could be more painful when he saw you laying lifeless. But having to read what you wanted to say,

How sorry you were, how thankful you are to him, and how he made you feel. 

It was surely another cut to an already existing wound. His mind flashed memories while he went over the tear stained letter you left.

He remembered everything as if they were as fresh as yesterday. When you first smiled at him, when you first held hands, when your lips first touched.

Your words were true. The story of you really is short-lived. But he couldn't help but think about the what If's

If he stayed,

If he hadn't walked out,

If he ignored his fear of abandoning you,

If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly.

He gave up, and the heavy lump on the throat overcame him, letting the sting linger for as long as eternity. He read the last words on the letter, with a loud sob, with repeated pleads.

Repeatedly apologising, repeatedly begging for you to come back so he could fix things so everything could return to normal,

So you could return.

A childish wish. A high-ranking soldier held the lifeless body of his lover all while he begs for them to come back. 

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, voice too broken to speak normally. "I'm sorry for not noticing."

"I'm sorry you had to be alone." 

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats over and over again, holding you against him. 

At the back of the letter, he could barely see the words written with how blurry the tears clouded his eyes.

Thank you for making me feel.

The words only crushed him even more, sobbing and crying harder to no avail. 

"[name]..." He whispers, holding you close. "Did it hurt? I'm sorry, it must have been so hard."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry for not being here you."

He apologized, wishing he could have been with you. To convince you otherwise, wishing he could have been here to avoid this,

To avoid losing you.

Wishing he could have stayed to keep making you feel.

The thoughts of your words before he left suddenly entered his mind,

"Can I hug you?"

"One last time?"

Now it all makes sense why you looked so serene, why you looked so accepting. Why did you have that small smile on your lips,

You were bidding him goodbye.

That really was the final hug. 

The final touch he'd ever get, the final living affection he would get from you. 

He holds you now, but it wasn't the same, not even close. Back then, you were smiling and breathing, but now you're no different to an inanimate object. Stiff and cold, this is the person he loved so dearly?

It ached.

And it ached painfully.

The type of ache to never go away, the type of ache he'd keep forever.

The type of ache he'll willingly embrace,

As he held you that night, mourning for what could've been, mourning for someone beyond saving.

This was the ache he'd willingly feel forever,

If it means having you in his mind and heart. He would willingly hurt himself by keeping that ache if it means keeping you in his deceased heart forever.

As the remnant of your memories roamed the room, your presence which now passed, the scent of yours he dearly craved. It left a sillage pain to remember,

You left a sillage worth remembering.

"I'll keep you in my heart,

Even if that damage me,

Even if it kills me.

I'll keep you safe forever."

[eve-dawntower]

Treasure (Rafayel x MC)

Rafayel used to have all your attention, but now a rival has arrived. Who would have thought that the most formidable rival he'll ever get is his own flesh and blood?

Warning: None

Pairing: Rafayel x Reader

Tags: Fluff

Rafayel was truly happy when he found out he was going to be a father. I mean, a child is a combination of a small bit of him and a small bit of you, right? He was genuinely ready to become a father despite whatever nonsense Thomas was spouting. But what he wasn't ready for was you focusing all your attention on the half-merman toddler the two of you had created.

Rafayel glared at the small being splashing in the swimming pool in the middle of the baby room. The water in the pool was actually seawater and at the same temperature as the deep waters. Normally, Lemurian children could withstand the temperature above the sea, but babies and toddlers can't. It was all thanks to the protocore technology that they were able to create a baby room appropriate for a half-Lemurian and half-human brat. Brat. That's right. That's what he called his own spawn.

The toddler giggled as you tickled him, making Rafayel pout more. Why was he getting all your attention? The first few months after the baby was born were fine, but he's already eight months old! Isn't it about time for you to turn all your attention back to him, the father?

"At what age will he be able to learn to change his tails to legs?" you asked, not taking your eyes off your son. See? You can't even spare him a small glance, even though you're asking him questions!

"Around three or four. I still need to teach him how. But it's still up to him if he'll be able to master it or not. Not every Lemurian is capable of doing it. Only the talented ones," he replied sullenly.

Noticing that familiar tone, you turned to look at him, and for the first time, you realized he was pouting.

"What's the matter?" you asked him.

"Nothing," he turned away and stomped out of the room.

You look back to your son who was playing around the pool, oblivious to his father's mood.

Days turned into weeks, and Rafayel's frustration lingered. His days were now filled with a mix of responsibilities and longing for the attention he once had. The house echoed with the occasional splash from the baby room, where your son continued to explore his aquatic abilities under your devoted guidance.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found Rafayel brooding in the dimly lit living room. The soft glow revealed the depth of his emotions, and you couldn't ignore the strain on the relationship.

"Rafayel, we need to talk," you said, settling beside him. He sighed, reluctantly turning to face you.

"It's just... I feel like I've become a background character in my own story. Our story," he confessed, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

You took his hand, reassuringly squeezing it. "I understand it's been an adjustment, but our son needs our attention. We can find a balance."

He nodded, but the ache in his eyes lingered. The following days, you made a conscious effort to involve Rafayel in the daily routines with your son, trying to bridge the emotional gap that had grown.

However, the problem with Rafayel was that he's very stubborn, and no matter how hard he tried, it was difficult for him not to be salty about how much attention his son was getting from you.

One day, you were suddenly called into a mission. Normally, Thomas takes care of your son when you're away, but Thomas is away for now, and calling a babysitter is obviously not an option. After all, you can't let anyone know about your half-Lemurian child. Left with no choice, you have to leave the child in Rafayel's care.

"Rafayel, please take very good care of him," you said, looking at him with a comically desperate expression.

Rafayel gave you a very offended look. "What do you think of me?! Incapable of taking care of my own child?!"

The conversation you had regarding what he was feeling about your child having all your attention lingers in your mind, but you decide to shake it off. Rafayel dislikes cats, but he took good care of one for you back then. What more if it's his flesh and blood? Despite what he was feeling, he wouldn't be irresponsible, right?

You nodded and planted a small kiss on the child's temple before leaving.

Rafayel stared at the doorway with an offended and exaggerated expression of shock.

"She didn't kiss me goodbye!"

The toddler giggled, making Rafayel turn to glare at him.

As Rafayel continued to glare at the toddler, the little mischief-maker seized the opportunity and splashed a handful of water in Rafayel's direction, prompting an unexpected reaction.

Rafayel dramatically recoiled, clutching his heart with mock horror. "Assaulted by a baby! This is outrageous!"

The toddler found this uproarious and burst into giggles, thoroughly enjoying the water-based escapade. Rafayel, however, continued his theatrics, staggering around the room as if gravely wounded.

"You've wounded me, my aquatic progeny! I'm a victim of watery aggression!" Rafayel declared, sinking to his knees in a theatrical display of defeat.

Your son, finding this turn of events entertaining, crawled over to Rafayel and patted him on the head. Rafayel seized the opportunity to cradle the toddler in his arms, feigning weakness.

"Ah, the betrayer himself consoles the wounded party. What a world!" Rafayel exclaimed dramatically, earning more giggles from the toddler.

The baby room transformed into a stage for this impromptu comedy, with Rafayel playing the role of the aggrieved victim. Despite the initial frustration, the absurdity of the situation broke the tension, and laughter echoed through the house.

Rafayel sighed after a few moments. "I wonder if your mommy still loves me. It's unfair! I'm the first! Why does it seem that she loves you more?" He whined as he poked the baby's nose, making him laugh. "Yeah, keep laughing at me. Pour more salt on your father's wound." He sighed. "I don't really hate you or anything. I mean, how can I? You're my son. Your mommy's and mine's son. But it really makes me sad how I ended up being shoved aside when you arrive in our life."

Just then, the child dragged himself off his father and slowly pulled himself towards the drawer. Rafayel watched him and mentally compare him to a seal.

The baby then looked at Rafayel, then back to the drawer, babbling.

"What is it?" Rafayel approached his son questioningly.

The child babbled as if trying to communicate with him.

Rafayel sighed. "I really don't have any idea what you're trying to say."

Pouting with a pout that resembles his, the child tried to reach and pulled lower the drawer handle.

"Hey, don't!"

Rafayel grabbed him away from it, making the child look at him in displeasure.

Rafayel groaned. "I guess Thomas is right. You really do look like a spitting image of me, especially when you're unhappy. Fine. You want to open this?"

Rafayel pulled the bottom drawer open, where he saw a book. He took it out and inspected it.

"What's this?" he muttered as he sat on the couch with the baby on his lap. He flipped the first page and realized it's like a diary. Only, it was a diary of your pregnancy.

When you were pregnant, you decided to write all your thoughts in it and how you felt at that time. Rafayel was unaware of it.

He started to read what you wrote.

"Rafayel is always childish and insufferable. He always annoys me, and sometimes I really want to choke him..."

"What the heck?! Is this all about her complaints about me?!"

The baby chuckled as if understanding what his father was saying.

Rafayel glanced at him. "Your mother... Seriously..." He shook his head and flipped to the next page, reading the contents.

More complaints about him were written. The farther he got, the harsher her words became. By the time he was halfway, he was more than ready to burn the diary. But then...

"Rafayel might not be the most mature guy out there, but he is really trying. Despite my mood swings and weird cravings, he was there, never leaving my side. Even if he always ends up receiving my anger, he never retaliated. Well, after I cried when he talked back once, he stop with his sassy remarks. I guess my cries traumatized him. Haha. If you gave me a chance to exchange him with someone else, I'll never do it. Because he's the only man I ever loved and will always love. He is also the one who gave me my treasure. My child."

As Rafayel read the diary, the realization dawned on him that, during your pregnancy, you had poured your heart onto those pages. The entries spoke volumes about the emotional journey you went through, and he found himself becoming a central figure in the narrative.

In the heartfelt words, you described how Rafayel was your pillar of support, always there to ease your fears and celebrate every milestone. The diary chronicled his late-night runs to satisfy your sudden cravings, the countless moments of reassurance, and the joy he brought into the preparations for the baby's arrival.

As Rafayel continued reading, a mix of emotions played on his face—astonishment, gratitude, and a touch of humility. It was a revelation that he had been a vital part of your pregnancy, more than he had realized.

He glanced at the baby in his lap, who seemed fascinated by the unfolding drama. Rafayel couldn't help but smile, a newfound warmth settling in his heart.

"I had no idea," he murmured, a genuine appreciation for the role he played during those months.

The entries continued to paint a picture of a loving partnership, with Rafayel actively participating in creating a nurturing environment for the upcoming addition to the family. He discovered how, despite his initial grumblings, he had been a source of strength for you.

Closing the diary, Rafayel looked at his son with a newfound understanding. The baby, sensing his father's softened demeanor, reached out and touched Rafayel's cheek, as if acknowledging the unspoken connection.

He hugged the baby. "If she consider you a treasure that I gave her, it makes sense how much she cares about you." He kissed his son's temple. "I also care about you but I guess I just felt so left out, I started seeing you as a rival. I promise it will never happen again."

With the diary in his hands, Rafayel felt a newfound appreciation for the bond he shared with you and the significance of his role in your life. As he embraced his son, a sense of warmth enveloped the room, dissolving the remnants of frustration that had lingered.

In that moment, the past frustrations and perceived rivalries faded away. The baby room became a sanctuary of reflection and realization. Rafayel embraced the depth of his role, not just as a father in the present but as a constant support throughout the journey of bringing their child into the world.

_____

After the particularly challenging mission, you returned home, exhausted yet relieved to be back. Opening the door, you realized it was too quiet.

"Rafayel?" You called out, worried about your husband and child.

You receive no reply and so, you went to the baby room.

Just then, you were greeted by a scene that melted away any residual weariness.

In the dim light of the baby room, you saw Rafayel peacefully sleeping on the pool, the baby nestled on his chest, both in a serene slumber. The sight was heartwarming – a testament to the newfound understanding and unity that had blossomed in your absence.

You couldn't help but smile at the peaceful tableau. Gently, you approached the sleeping duo and planted a soft kiss on Rafayel's kiss. He stirred, slowly waking up with a dazed expression.

"Welcome back," he whispered, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You nodded, savoring the tranquility of the moment. "What happened while I was away?"

Rafayel grinned, gesturing to the peacefully sleeping baby on his chest. "Well, we had a little water-based escapade, a dramatic showdown, and a realization that we're all in this together. Oh, and I read your pregnancy diary. Turns out, I played a more significant role than I thought."

"What?! Where do you find it?!" Your cheek reddened in embarrassment. You almost forgot about that diary.

"Well, a little fishy showed it to me," Rafayel gently shifted, allowing you to join them on the poolside. You gave him a look, annoyed that you wanted to get in the pool and have your hunter outfit get wet.

Sighing, you got in the pool.

"It's my real feelings, by the way," you said, referring to the diary's content.

"Yeah. Sorry for being so childish. I guess I just got used to having all your attention. I mean, I'm used to having everyone's attention. As a child, everyone fawned on me, and even when I became an adult, being the artist that I am, everyone looks up to me. So now, having another being get the attention of the person that I love the most made me anxious. I promise I'll never try to compete with my own son for attention."

"I also want to apologize, Rafayel. I guess I really did neglect you." You kissed his lips, as if apologizing for the times he felt neglected.

"It's fine. But promise me, once our child is old enough, I'll be the number one again."

You chuckled at that and snuggled to him.

"I promise."

"And I'm sorry for being a bit of a drama king," he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, "Well, I wouldn't have it any other way. Our story may be a bit dramatic, but it's uniquely ours."

The three of you shared a moment of quiet happiness, basking in the love that bound your unconventional family.

With your son sleeping peacefully between you, the challenges of the past were replaced by a sense of unity and understanding. As you leaned in to share a tender moment with Rafayel, you knew that every twist and turn in your story had led to this beautiful chapter of shared laughter, love, and the promise of a bright future together.

As the moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow on the room, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the journey that had brought you to this moment. 

END

MASTERLIST

[rdr2gifs]

''the morning light, when it comes to me, it was there but I could not see''

Arthur’s life was profoundly shaped by his self-hatred, lack of self-worth and disbelief in the existence of kindness in a seemingly dark and cruel world.

I strongly disagree with the statement that Arthur only became a ‘’better’’ man after being diagnosed with tb. His struggle with his true/inner self is apparent as early as chapter one. ‘’You are not who you think you are, sir… which is lucky’’

He has lived a rough life, raised by criminals and surrounded by violence ever since he was born. It was installed in him early that his value lied within being a violent enforcer and he has lived this life since, knowing nothing else. As a highly aware person, Arthur's actions weight heavy on his soul. He accepts that his actions have consequences. He knows that a person who has caused so much suffering is not meant to have happiness in life. His way of life has caused him to believe that he is not worthy of love or redemption. He doesn’t want to believe that a person like him could be capable of any good. (a thing to note here is that imo, Arthur’s actions near his death weren’t attempts at redemption but rather a strong desire to do right and possibly be his true self.) This is why he keeps living as he does as it’s the only thing he’s ever known, it’s the thing that brings him profit, praise from the person he looks up to and he is already damned so he might as well continue living this life anyway.

The internal problem Arthur faces is that this violent, cruel way of life doesn’t align with what I’d call his true self/ideals. He is torn between the harsh reality he has known and an unconscious yearning for righteousness/love. To be able to carry on with his actions he must enforce certain ideals within himself, such as: I am bad, ugly, nasty, ignorant, mean etc. He also decides to see the dark side of reality, telling himself that the world is a grim dark place and this is just as things were meant to be. This is why he feels so uncomfortable being complimented for his good deeds, because a bad rotten person like him should not be able to do good. It breaks the image he has built for himself and he doesn’t want that happening. This can be seen a lot during the ‘’Money Lending and Other Sins’’ missions where he is unusually mean (even for his standards) to each of the debtors. Imo, he acts this way because he must truly convince himself of being a terrible man to be able to carry out a job which revolts him so badly. In the last debt collecting mission with J. John Weathers, it can be seen in his face/expressions how much he is struggling to put on a tough, uncaring, heartless act. He needs to maintain a ruthless persona to survive in the world he knows. He must convince himself of his own cruelty.

''Forgive me, but that's the problem. You don't know you.''

Contrary to Arthur’s beliefs, he is a naturally kind-hearted person who is unconsciously drawn towards kindness. And yes, even before he was diagnosed with tb. This can be seen in the people he respects the most and, in his willingness to help strangers (notice how he often does unnecessary acts of service for total strangers such as: carrying their things, holding out hands etc. even though they had already troubled him). Despite the life he has lived, Arthur does not enjoy violence, he does not enjoy hurting people. He doesn’t want to dominate over others. He thinks mostly about others and not about himself. This fact alone is very telling of his character.

He writes about Charles, a man who he truly respects: ‘’He’s a better man than me. He does not need to think to be good. It comes naturally to him, like right is deep within as opposed to this conflict between GOOD↔EVIL that rages within me.’’ A man who is not struggling with his inner self would not have written this. To me this clearly implies an inner desire to be a better man. He writes about his mentors: ‘’I love Dutch like a father, but in many ways, I love Hosea even more. He’s kind and fair and like a human being. Dutch is something else.’’ Clearly showing a preference for Hosea who is of a more gentle nature and shows genuine kindness. Unsurprisingly, these are the people who see through his dumb/though act and encourage him to drop it.

When he comes across Brother Dorkins for the first time, he writes: ‘’(he)was one of those innocent people who make you feel better about human beings and about yourself a little. Must be odd to see all that goodness in the world. Place always seemed dark and brutal to me.’’ Expressing how he does not see goodness in the world, implying lack of good examples/kindness/good experiences in his life. Yet, the monk leaves an impression and imo, this encounter (seeing genuine goodness) disrupts Arthur’s perception of what the world truly is. ‘’Just as evil begat evil your whole life long, so good may begat good’’ (what strengthens my belief in this, is the following, symbolic scene of Arthur realising the consequences of his actions right after picking up a crucifix. He was aware of them before sure, but is unable to truly ignore them now having seen it right in front of his eyes). If only Arthur was presented with more examples of goodness in his life.

''You have it in you... I can tell!''

His desire to do as much good as possible after realising he won’t live long is instant. This would not be the mindset of someone who did not already possess kindness in his heart. ‘’Know glory and forget about shame.’’ Arthur’s shame and self-loathing caused by his previous actions were what was holding him back from allowing kindness into his life. Knowing that he has limited time left has not made him into someone he wasn’t before. The diagnosis was a catalyst, allowing him to embrace that love/goodness truly does exist and accelerate the process of chipping away from the persona he has made for himself. This was a newfound understanding for him as in the past he was rejecting any notion of kindess. In himself and perhaps the whole existence of it. ‘’You keep hidden all that matters, even from yourself.’’

After being diagnosed, he writes: ‘’What kind of a man have I been? What kind of a man am I? What world is this we live in? A land of fury or a place of love? Am I being prepared for eternal damnation? Am I past any kind of saving? Is that all fairytales? Man ain’t got much good in him. I ain’t got no good in me… I don’t think and yet I see goodness. I see it. If not in me, in good folk. In Abigail and her love for Jack. In that silly monk. In Downes, I guess. Begging not for himself but for the poor, even though he was near starving himself. Maybe I don’t want salvation. Part of me has always longed for death.’’ This entry perfectly shows how deep Arthur’s self-loathing goes and just how much it has damaged him. As his journal allows a look into his true feelings, he truly does not see a single good thing about himself. He knew for a long time that the way he lives is detestable but he could not let go of it. Not because he didn’t want to, but because it’s all that he has ever known. He didn’t believe in anything else. This sudden acceptance of goodness has allowed him to see clearly, which was obscured from him before, and for the first time, enabled him to act free of past regrets for what is right.

⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪

Arthur’s redemption is not about becoming a good man. It is about finding the strength to change and recognise your true self despite a lifetime of self-loathing and breaking free from destructive beliefs of the past.

In Arthurian legends a stag is a symbol of the unending quest of spiritual knowledge/enligtenment

[papillon-stories]

Go Eunhyuk x reader ꕥ General bf headcanons ꕥ

This wasn't a request, just an idea that crossed my mind. As I do it, I realize that we all need Eunhyuk. So if you're not Eunhyuk, there's no need to introduce yourself to me.

No warning, just a lot of fluff and broken English

Happy reading !

He was very confused when he realized his feelings for you. Despite his cold attitude, Eunhyuk is someone who thinks a lot.

He ended up confessing his feelings without really doing so. He showed clear signs that he had fallen in love - apparently obvious to everyone except you.

Eventually, he told you directly in an unexpected moment. You were studying, and he couldn't help but watch all the little quirky things you did without realizing it, which he loves, and then he blurted out "I love you".

It was spontaneous, and he didn't even realize it. He became a blushing mess, hiding his face with the back of his hand and looking away.

On your side, it wasn't any better. It took a few good seconds for you to realize what he had just said to you.

You were even more red than him, and you had been waiting for this moment for so long (you didn't think his feelings were mutual, so you at least wanted to stay friends).

After the confession, your relationship didn't change much because without realizing it, you were already in a pre-couple stage.

The only thing that was new for both of you was the more intimate part of your relationship.

In public, he's not a fan of PDA, but he will always touch you in one way or another, by brushing against you when you pass by, holding hands under the table, stealing a kiss when no one is looking - these are small gestures that mean a lot to him.

He loves to see you blush or be flustered when this happens and you try to act like you can handle it - he sees through you like an open book.

But in private, it's a different story. He always has his arms around you.

He's definitely he big spoon, even though he secretly loves it when his s/o takes care of him in their arms.

He loves to kiss you unexpectedly, even in private, but the difference is that he takes his time. He loves to feel close to you, and this poor boy is hungry for your love.

If you stroke his hair while his head rests on your lap, he'll melt on the spot and might even fall asleep.

Another thing he'll never admit is that he loves feeling intimate and connected with you. In those moments, he clears his mind, and nothing else matters.

One of his love languages, in addition to the small meaningful gestures and touches, is spending quality time together.

He'll always take you on spontaneous or planned dates, as long as you're together, he's winning.

He's not a big fan of pet names, but in private, he likes to call you "Babe". Overly sweet names are not really his thing.

However, he doesn't mind if you call him by cute nicknames in private. In fact, he loves it.

He's very protective of you, and he'll always keep an eye on you in situations where you're around a group of people.

He's a huge moral support and always on your side.

But if he thinks there's a situation where you acted wrongly, he'll tell you, but only in private. (capable man u.u)

He always makes you feel special and doesn't hesitate to show you that you're his priority.

Eunhyuk doesn't make a big deal out of his personal feelings, even though they are important to him, but with you, he lets his guard down.

He has told you about his childhood and stories about his father and mother.

He confides in you because he trusts you, and you should never break that trust because it's hard to earn.

He appreciates that you are a great support for him, even though he acts like everything is fine. But you know him as well as he knows you, and you know that he downplays his situation, so you'll be there for him no matter what he says because you can read it in his eyes.

You didn't really need words to understand each other.

Your ability to read each other's emotions and thoughts without having to express them explicitly is an indication of the deep bond and connection you share.

It's a testament to the trust and understanding you have built over time, and it's one of the things that makes your relationship special and strong

He always has small gestures for you, but he'll act like they're not a big deal.

For example, if you fell asleep in class due to lack of sleep, he'll go buy you an energy drink during the break and place it on your desk because "you look pitiful".

Or if they serve your favorite dessert in the cafeteria, he'll give you his portion because he "isn't hungry anymore".

Or if you forgot to do your homework, he'll never copy it as quickly as he does for you.

And if you mentioned a pair of shoes the other day, it'll be your next gift.

He'll always wait for you to finish what you're doing, and he'll never leave you alone or hanging.

These are all small things that he does for you, but they show how much he cares and how attentive he is to your needs.

He likes to walk you home after class or every date, you'll never have to walk alone.

He's very observant and listens to everything you say, but he acts like he's not really interested - you know he's actively listening.

HE'S JEALOUS! He has a hard time with his own character trait, he hates being jealous.

If he sees you talking to another guy, he won't make a big deal out of it and will let it go, even though he'll feel - against his will - a twinge of jealousy.

However, if he sees you uncomfortable or if the other guy is too insistent, he'll simply come from behind and wrap his arms around you as if nothing is wrong. "Everything okay here?" he won't wait for an answer, and he'll simply wait for the guy to get the message and leave - especially with the deadly glare he gives him.

He cherishes every little thing you give him, even if it's a ridiculous trinket or a simple lollipop.

You have matching keychains, and sometimes you like to match your shoes or clothes.

You have a piece of jewelry in common, a necklace with the first letter of each other's name.

He spoils you a lot, so if you want to invite him or pay for one of your dates, you'll have to be cunning because he's always the quickest to pay.

He loves to make his s/o happy.

He's grateful to be in a healthy relationship with you, and he hopes it will last a very long time (until death do you part...?).

In essence, Eunhyuk is a caring boyfriend who knows how to listen to you, protect you, and be a moral support.

He always encourages you in your projects (yes, he's perfect).

With time, you've learned to read between the lines in his seemingly cold attitude. He loves you, but sometimes he just doesn't know how to express it - but you know it.

You probably fell in love first, but he definitely fell harder.

Thank you for reading ღ Do you want more ?

[lost-in-lamentation]

sharing a bed was a fleeting thought in his mind; who would have thought it'd have to happen so soon?

content: when there’s only one bed, what will the demon brothers do?

no warnings, really; just a lot of fluff. non-established relationships and some subtle confessions.

after being sent back to the human world, you spent some time gathering research materials and inspiration for diavolo's upcoming RAD event. the excursion left you tired enough that you were dragging your feet to your hotel with your paired exploration partner just behind you. you checked into the hotel with ease, tension finally leaving your shoulders at the thought of going to bed. but the hotel seemed to have forgotten to tell the both of you about the sleeping arrangements of the room you were booked into. when you got to your room, you hesitated to enter, but when he asked you what was wrong, the words slipped out. “there’s only one bed.”

belphegor. ═  ˎˊ˗

“oh, really?” belphie slips around you, tired eyes surveying the room in front of him. he shrugs a few moments later, sliding his bag off his shoulder and onto the ground. “i’m fine with it if you are,” the demon hums. 

you raise an eyebrow at him, shuffling to the other side of the room to place your own belongings down. “you don’t seem very concerned about this situation.”

“would you rather i be excited?”

“wh- no!” pouting, you turn away from belphie, rummaging through your bag as an excuse to not face him. “just go shower already. i’ll probably take longer than you, so i’ll go after.” he hums again in return, and you hear him enter the washroom not long after. with him out of earshot, you sigh quietly to yourself, pretending that you don’t feel the tips of your ears burning

by the time you finish your shower, you half expect belphie to be knocked out. instead, you find him lying on top of the covers, eyes fixated on the ceiling before they flicker over to look at you. “you’re still awake?”

he shoots you a smile, and your heart skips a beat. “didn’t feel like sleeping.”

“that’s rich, coming from sloth himself.” you stifle a laugh at his excuse, throwing your daytime clothes onto your bag before hopping up onto the other side of the bed. the pillow belphie had set in the middle of the bed as a border felt more like an obstruction rather than a guidance. “so what? couldn’t sleep without me around?” you croon, strangely delighted at the blush that spreads across the youngest’s face. 

but belphie is quick to control his expression, and he’s smirking not more than a few seconds later. “didn’t want to sleep without you,” he says, parroting the tone that you had just used. your jaw drops as belphie laughs, and when you finally decide to say something, he beats you to it. “sweet dreams, MC,” belphie murmurs, features soft under the light before he flicks the bedside lamp off.

“g-goodnight,” you manage to stutter out, turning away from belphie to face the other wall. a subconscious habit of yours, you begin to clench and unclench your fists, making rustling noises under the blankets. you continue for a while, until you feel a hand on your back and hear a gentle voice calling to slumber, eyes falling closed as belphie strokes you softly.

beelzebub. ═  ˎˊ˗

ever the considerate demon of the bunch, beel gives you the most steadfast look he is capable of. “i can take the floor, MC.” 

you quickly shake your head in response. “beel, i don’t want you doing that here.”

“i sleep on levi’s floor whenever i fall asleep while watching him play games. it’s okay.”

a grimace forms on your face at his reasoning. “that… doesn’t exactly make me feel better about it.” you give the demon one more look, but when you see how determined beel is, you back down. “fine. but you’re taking the comforter.”

seemingly happy with the exchange, beel grins at you, his eyes nearly sparkling with victory. you sigh at him, but with his famous puppy-dog look, you can’t stay mad. with a hand on his wrist, you pull him into the room, unaware of the way his eyes widen at your touch. eventually, the blush on his face dies, and the two of you get all your things sorted before freshening up for bed. as beel walks out of the washroom, towel draped around his neck, you tug the comforter free from the mattress, placing it at the foot of the bed. 

the sixth born frowns at the comforter, and then at you. “you’ll get cold at night.”

you wave your hand at beel, smiling at him despite feeling the chill settle into your bones already. “don’t worry, i never get cold,” you say, hoping he buys your act. 

the demon is reluctant, but nods and takes the comforter in the end. you watch as he sits down and spreads the fabric across himself, waiting until he finishes. when he does, you bid him goodnight, reaching over to turn off the light before curling into yourself underneath the bed sheet. it doesn’t take long for you to start shivering, and you internally curse at yourself when your shaking makes the bed frame groan. silently, you pray that beel has already fallen asleep, but he does not possess the same aptitude for it as his twin. your hear him stand up, and he softly taps your shoulder before saying anything. “actually… can we share the bed?” 

you swallow your chattering, turning your head to face him, even if you can’t see in the dark. “floor isn’t comfy enough?”

“it’s fine, but you’re really cold, aren’t you? you’ll be warmer if you have the comforter. and if i’m there too.” 

your heart warms at his sincerity, and you flip yourself over to wave him closer to yourself. 

the dark serves well to hide beel’s burning face from you, and he’s glad that the lights are off right now. he swiftly throws the covers over the both of you, settling into the bed close enough that you feel his warmth, but aren’t touching.

you’re confused when you hear him holding his breath, so your hand feels around the bed until you can find his.

beel nearly flies out of the bed when he feels your fingers lock with his, but it’s his hunger for you that keeps him still. “goodnight MC.” 

you want to say goodnight back, but you feel lips brush over your knuckles in the dark, and you no longer have the courage to say it. instead, you tighten your grip, relaxing further until you fell asleep.

asmodeus. ═  ˎˊ˗

asmo practically squeals in delight, and you immediately slap a hand over his mouth to quiet him down. “there are people in the other rooms!” you hiss, taking your hand away from his face and dragging him inside the room instead. with a sigh, you dig your fingers into your temples; but you suppose that asmo not being picky about sharing a bed is a nice surprise. “just- go get ready for bed,” you grumble, throwing your bag into a corner before flopping down on the nearby chair. 

“we’re gonna do skincare together after, okay MC?” you haphazardly throw a thumbs-up at asmo, waiting for him to disappear into the washroom before you gather your things. 

surprisingly, asmo finishes his regular routine in record time, and a part of you wonders if it’s because of the fact that you’re sharing a bed. you shake the idea away, trudging into the washroom to clean yourself up. when you finish, asmo is laying all his different products out onto the desk next to the bed. you can only stare at the sight, and find a seat next to him on the bed as he debates what brand of toner to use. as soon as his decision is made, asmo places one bottle onto the desk, and the other gets thrown into his luggage. finally, he turns to you, eyes sparkling with excitement. 

“first, we wash our faces with this!” 

you blink at the bottle in his hand. “i just washed my face with the bar of soap they gave us.” 

asmo looks at you incredulously, stuck feeling something between disgust and amazement at the lack of effort. “well, you’re going to wash your face again!” 

the avatar of lust lives up to his name; you spend over an hour going through the perfect skin care routine until asmo finally gives the word that you’re done. 

“that was a lot,” you breathe out, flopping onto the bed with a relieved sigh. “you do that every night?” 

the demon laughs at your question, but his answer catches you further off guard, “of course not! my routine at home is much longer. we just didn’t have enough time to do all of it today. i still need my beauty sleep, MC.” you do your best to hold your expression, but you can’t help the slip of shock that flickers across your face. “you know, i’ve never done this with anyone,” asmo begins. “my brothers all run away either halfway or even before we start.”

“really?” you turn onto your side to look at him, and asmo smiles at the gesture.

“really. so, thanks for doing this with me.” he ruffles his hair into place as he walks to the light, switching it off before climbing onto the bed next to you. “good night MC.” he doesn’t wait for your response before pulling the blankets up to his chin. “i hope i can spend more nights like this with you,” he whispers to himself, part of him hoping you heard it, and part of him praying you didn’t.

satan. ═  ˎˊ˗

the avatar of wrath immediately turns on his heel and walks away, stalking towards the elevator with a determined look on his face. panicked at what he might do, you snatch his wrist and yank him back towards you, matching his glare with one of your own.

“where do you think you’re going?”

“front desk. i’m going to get this fixed.” 

you wince at the idea of satan yelling at the hotel receptionist and getting yourselves kicked out. “what you’re going to do, is take a shower and calm down. i’ll head down and see if they can do anything, but i’m not risking you lashing out at them. got it?”

satan twitches uncomfortably at your scolding tone, but nods nonetheless. wordlessly, he marches into the room, leaving you to venture downstairs to the front desk. 

much to your dismay, and not so much surprise, there were no more rooms with two beds available. the receptionist confirms that there was an error during the information transfer between booking sites, so you say your thanks before asking for an extra blanket and heading upstairs. when you return, satan says nothing, only giving you an inquisitive look. you shake your head in response, also remaining silent as you grab what you need to freshen up. you finish quickly, exhaustion too prominent as you realise you don’t have the energy to be mad at anything. on one side of the bed, satan sits against the headboard, legs straight in front of him as he reads through a book he had bought yesterday. as you come out, his gaze follows you, eyes narrowing in confusion when he sees you grab the extra fleece blanket you got earlier and sit down on the floor. 

“oi, what are you doing?” satan’s curiosity always has the better of him, asking questions before he can even think about it.

“you seemed very adamant about not sharing a bed,” you reply curtly, draping the blanket over your shoulders. “so i decided i’ll sleep on the floor.” 

“th-that’s not…” you glance up at the blonde, lips itching to smile as a blush spreads across his face. “i thought two beds would be better because i like to stay up reading, and if we share a bed, i might keep you up. that’s all.”

you feel your heart swell, even if you know the excuse is made up on the spot to cover up his embarrassment. “i’ll fall asleep easy, satan. you don’t have to worry about that.”

“is that so…” satan mutters to himself, weighing his options briefly before extending a hand to you. “just get up here. my brothers would kill me if they found out i almost let you sleep on the floor.” 

you place your hand in his, fingers curling around his palm as he pulls you up to join him. “thanks satan,” you beam, squeezing his hand tightly before rounding the corner of the bed to the other side. he mutters something you can’t hear, placing his attention back on his novel. “goodnight,” you hum quietly, turning away from him and pulling the covers over yourself.

a few minutes later, on the verge of sleep, you feel fingers threading through your hair and hear a gentle “goodnight, i love you,” before losing yourself to sweet dreams.

leviathan. ═  ˎˊ˗

“i can sleep in the bathtub.” 

you whip your head around to stare at levi, who is uncharacteristically serious. “come again?” 

he throws his hands up in defence, against what, you’re not really sure. “it’s not like it’s different from back home.” with your jaw hanging open, you continue to stare at him. “stop making that face! what’s wrong with sleeping in the bathtub?!”

you drag your hand down your face now, unsure if this idea is smart or stupid. “levi, this is a hotel bathtub. you don’t know who or what has been in it!” 

“i’ll clean it with soap before i sleep,” he protests.

“that’s besides the point!” you sigh in defeat, thinking that you’re too tired to argue about this right now. “fine, fine. but i’m casting a cleaning spell.” you see levi’s shoulders relax immediately, and you wonder why he refuses to share a bed with you in the first place. 

the both of you finish your nightly routines rather quickly, and once you determine that the bathtub is dry enough for levi, you cast your spell on it. you watch with a frown as he clambers over the side, still mostly against the idea of sleeping in the hotel bathtub. somehow, levi catches your discomfort, and quickly slides in against the walls of the tub before saluting to you. 

“feels good in here,” the water demon declares, trying his best to get you to relax. 

although it doesn’t exactly work, you resign anyway, telling levi you’ll be right outside if he needs you. with that, you bid him goodnight, leaving the door to the washroom ajar just in case. in the dead of the night, you last only around 15 minutes, before the guilt gets the better of you. angrily, you throw covers away from yourself, stomping towards the washroom and jerking the door open. you can only hear levi’s splutters of confusion as he flails around. you inhale sharply, flicking the light switch before locking eyes with levi and saying, “bed. now.”

levi flushes immediately, his face scarlet red with confusion and embarrassment. “y-you won’t be able to sleep if i’m there!”

“i’ll fall asleep faster with you next to me instead of in this godforsaken bathtub!”

he freezes at the statement; of course, initially he wanted to share the bed, but he was too afraid of being seen as weird for wanting to do so. levi swallows his fear, pulling himself out of the bathtub just slightly. “... you mean it?” 

you sigh again for the nth time that night, but reach your hand out to him as you do so. “yes, levi. now please, just come to bed.” 

levi is reluctant, but he takes your hand in the end, allowing you to pull him away from the washroom and towards a proper sleeping surface. when you feel him sink into the mattress, you feel relief flooding your body, tiredness making its appearance now that levi is next to you. “sleep well,” you murmur, knocking out as soon as your head hits the pillow. 

unbeknownst to you, levi does not fall asleep until at least 2 hours later, but he takes comfort in the fact that you’d rather have him by your side than far away. he’ll have the courage to hold you while you sleep another day.

mammon. ═  ˎˊ˗

mammon peeks into the room, his face unreadable for a fleeting moment.

"guess there's no helping it. we're sharing." 

the white haired demon spins to look at you, disbelief written across his features. "sharing?!" 

"what about it?" you ask, exasperated. lightly, you push against one of his shoulders, turning him back around so that you can escort him into the room. the door shuts behind you with a click, and despite the room being dimly lit, you quickly notice the red dusting mammon's ears. "mammon? you don't want to share a bed with me?" 

mammon trips on his words, fumbles with his sentences. eventually, he manages to get out an "i'll just sleep on the chair." he moves in full speed, suddenly grabbing his sleeping clothes from his bag and rushing into the washroom a second later. 

too tired to press him about it, you let the matter go, scrolling your phone while you wait for your turn in the washroom. when mammon steps out, refreshed for the night, he pulls the chair out from under the desk, dropping himself onto it rather gracefully. you give him a look, but mammon has his eyes on everywhere except you. sighing, you give up for the second time that night. but as you head into the washroom, you tell yourself that the third time's the charm. mammon won't feel comfortable in that chair, and you don't feel great about letting him sleep there either. 

your mind is made up, and by the time you're ready to sleep, mammon is now tucked into himself on the chair, knees pressed up against his chest as he attempts to make use of the tiny space. you wait for him to look at you, but when he does, he tears his gaze away and hides his face in the crook of his elbow. you grow soft at the sight, seeing the way his blush reaches just to where you catch it. stifling a giggle to yourself, you switch the light off, hopping up onto the bed just after. once you get comfortable, you burrow into your side of the bed, flipping over to be able to see mammon's figure in the dark.

"goodnight mammon," you call out.

it takes him a second, but he brings his face up so that he isn't muffled. "... g'night, human." 

you smile to yourself, forgetting that mammon can see even without the light. luckily for him, you can't see the way his blush deepens, and how his gaze looks over you with such stark affection. meanwhile, you wait 15 minutes, listening to the way mammon shifts on the chair, and when you think he's also had enough of pretending to be okay with it, you call out to him again.

"mammon?"

"oh, you're awake?"

"come join me." you hear him inhale sharply, so you push yourself up onto an elbow. "i don't want you sleeping in that chair." 

mammon feels his sin surge up, greed entering his nerves and pulling him to join you under the covers. he wants to hold back, but then he sees the way you hold the blanket up, inviting him closer with no strings attached. finally, he gives in, crawling in so that you face each other while lying down. the space between you and him is infinite, and yet, so short at the same time. mammon feels his heart jump into his throat when you cross the boundary first, your hand reaching up to scratch his chin. he relaxes instantly, and before he knows it, he's murmuring out an apology before his arms wrap around your back and tug you into his chest. to his delight, you don't pull away, instead tucking yourself closer. 

perhaps he can be greedy for you just this once.

lucifer. ═  ˎˊ˗

"will you be alright by yourself?"

you blink in surprise at the question. "eh? i mean, yes, but, where are you going?" 

lucifer places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you inside the room while he stays outside the doorway. "i'll go around the city and find a hotel with another room. after all, it would be impolite to have to force you to share a bed." 

"wait- huh?" you squawk in confusion, turning on your heel to face the avatar of pride. you have a feeling that being impolite is just an excuse. 

"i will text you when i've found a hotel. for now, go and clean yourself up. it's been a long day, and-"

"and that's exactly why you're staying here." you reach for the cuff of his sleeve, fingers holding tightly despite the glare you receive from lucifer. 

the demon makes no move to tear his hand away, and instead sighs into his other one instead. "MC, really." 

"lucifer, it's almost past midnight," you hiss, now trying to tug him into the hotel room. "you won't be finding any hotel rooms at this time, and i'll be too worried about you out there that i won't get any sleep anyway." keeping your grip steady, you pull on his sleeve again, waiting for lucifer's next move with bated breath. 

between the look on your face and the iron grip you have him in, lucifer can only give up, begrudgingly following you into the room. to his surprise, your eyes light up when he finally agrees, and he thinks that maybe he made the right choice if you were this happy. he doesn't say much else, instead hurrying you into the washroom to wash up. once you're inside, he groans to himself; lucifer can't deny the fact that he's also somewhat elated at the situation, and yet, he can't help but feel nervous about it. the mere fact that a human like yourself has such a big impact on him has him wondering if he should have agreed to this trip in the first place. but when you come out of the washroom, ready for the night, lucifer also can't help but think that he's glad that this side of you is reserved for him on this trip. 

you send lucifer a smile, tilting your head towards the shower to tell him it's his turn. a gentle hum makes its way towards your ears, and before lucifer disappears from sight, you see a ghost of a smile gracing his features. 

by the time he finishes, you're already tucked into one side of the bed, scrolling your phone for text messages that you missed during the day. lucifer watches you with careful eyes; his pride is too great to admit to himself that he loves to see you so relaxed around him, but his racing heart speaks a different story. carefully, he climbs into bed next to you, waiting until your gaze matches his to speak. 

"if you are uncomfortable at any time, please let me know." 

"oh, please. if i'm going to be stuck in this situation, i'm glad that it's you here." you set your phone down, turning onto your side to face him. as you roll over, you reach up to brush away the hairs that have fallen onto his forehead, giggling at the way lucifer stiffens at your touch. "goodnight, lucifer," you practically sing, turning away again to leave your back exposed to the demon.

lucifer, now that you're facing away, allows himself to smile. just as you feel yourself falling asleep, he drapes an arm over your waist, pulling you close. his chest rumbles as he says his goodnight, and you fall asleep immediately in the safety of his arms.

a/n: i really wanna do a 500 follower thing but uh... what do people do for those-

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡