#❴♥❵ out of snowflakes.

[nohumaen]

ahhh, to be buried on tecchou's muscles like this:

[hopcisms]

icon that me and my beloved @despairisms made together ♥

[darkmatilda]

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re starting to suspect that, to spencer, you’re nothing more than a form of comfort—a bandage for a lingering wound, a way to cope with the ghost of the girl who came before you.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x female!reader, spencer is not over maeve but starts a new relationship, alex blake's first appearance in my fics, reader is kinda a people pleaser who takes the blame for everything and it hurts me so much that i just want to hug her and tell her she deserves the whole world...

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.5k

𝐚/𝐧: this fic was written for @mggslover celebrate her 1k followers event <333 it took me a while, but belated congratulations—you fully deserve it! love you, girl!

wildflower

billie eilish ♥︎

⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻

01:05 ━━━━●─────────────── 04:21

but i see her in the back of my mind. all the time.

"Snow?" You slowed your pace, lifting your head in surprise.

Above you stretched a starless night sky, with the moon faintly emerging from between the clouds. The falling flakes were small and sparse, drifting toward you in a lazy, graceful descent, only to vanish almost instantly upon landing on your clothes or the ground.

You glanced to the side at Spencer. Your…well, probably boyfriend. You had only started seeing each other recently, but ever since he appeared in your life, you knew there was something special about him—something you wanted to keep close. What began as casual meetups had gradually turned into hours of rhythmic conversations, your first honest confessions, and real dates. Wonderful dates.

You were walking to the restaurant on foot, and you liked the way your arms remained intertwined as you moved side by side, step for step. You had often seen older couples walking like this—it carried a certain elegance, and to you, it had always felt like something deeply tender and full of care.

Matching your pace to another’s, making sure they were right beside you, never falling behind by even an inch. Sharing your warmth, reminding them of your presence and your feelings, even when you were both lost in silence, unable to express it with words.

"I admit, it's unusual for this time of year," Spencer replied after a moment, raising his hand as a snowflake landed on his skin—only to melt instantly. It vanished.

It was only then that you realized you had interrupted him mid-sentence earlier. He had been talking about…With a hint of embarrassment, you realized you couldn’t remember. At some point, the conversation had taken an unexpected turn and drifted into territories you weren’t entirely familiar with. Not only did you lack a degree in that field, but it simply wasn’t something you had a particular passion or deep interest in.

From the moment you met him, you knew he was a man of knowledge, and it hadn’t taken long to realize that in his voice, everything sounded at least three times more interesting than it should have. Plus, he had a sexy voice.

So listening to what sometimes felt like full-blown monologues was nothing short of a pleasure. Even if, at times, you didn’t fully grasp the bigger picture. You wondered whether you should apologize and ask him to repeat what he had said, but by then, you had already reached the entrance of the restaurant—a small, cozy place within walking distance from your apartment.

Its windows, framed in black, were made of slightly amber-tinted glass, softening the light that spilled inside, making it warmer, easier on the eyes, and undeniably soothing.

“Spencer?”

A voice called out behind you just as you were about to step inside—before you even had the chance to open the door.

Both of you turned toward the pair standing nearby—a man and a woman with brown hair, the hem of a blue dress peeking out from beneath her coat. She was just tucking her car keys into her purse, though her sharp eyes didn’t leave your faces for even a second. Then, as if realizing herself, she blinked and quickly summoned a smile.

“Running into a coworker on my first day off in ages—what are the odds, right?” she said lightly.

You glanced at Spencer out of the corner of your eye, wondering if he saw this coincidence as a good thing. He always said the team was like family to him, but you were still holding onto his arm, and you could feel the subtle tension in his posture. His expression shifted into something unreadable—strange, almost.

But then, he quickly composed himself, introducing you to Alex, as it turned out, and then introducing Alex and her silent husband to you.

"Nice to meet you," she said as you shook her hand.

She seemed friendly, but either some previously unknown paranoia had just kicked in, or she was studying you a little too closely. Especially after Spencer hesitated slightly before using the word girlfriend to introduce you.

"Sorry," she murmured suddenly, shaking her head slightly. "I just had no idea Spencer was seeing someone. And I definitely didn’t expect to run into a familiar face at our favorite restaurant," she added, glancing at her husband, who confirmed her words with a small nod.

"Well, it’s slowly becoming our favorite too," you joked. She was just surprised to see you, nothing more. You tried not to show any reaction to the fact that Spencer had apparently never mentioned you before. You kept your smile in place, reminding yourself that it wasn’t a big deal. Because it wasn’t, right? He didn’t have to report his love life to everyone around him. "They have the best ravioli here. Have you tried it?"

"Hm, you know, I don’t think we have? But if you recommend it, maybe I should…"

The conversation continued for a little while—just casual, friendly small talk. Spencer barely participated, only forcing a polite smile when necessary or nodding with a slight delay. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the way he briefly pressed a hand to his furrowed forehead for just a fleeting moment.

It started to worry you. You wished Alex a pleasant evening, and on your way to the table, your thoughts revolved around how to bring up the topic. You sat across from each other at a round table, the waiter took your orders, and only then did he manage to speak.

"Is everything okay, Spencer? You suddenly went quiet," you observed gently. "Or maybe that small talk outside just drained you. They tend to do that, true. Not like our conversation about CRISPR," you added with a smile, only now remembering what topic you'd interrupted him on earlier when it started snowing.

Spencer slowly returned your smile, shaking his head in an almost apologetic manner.

"Sorry. Alex really caught me off guard, that's all," he explained, focusing his gaze on you—but not on your face—before widening his smile even more. "You look beautiful."

The sweetness in his voice as he said it made the previous topic vanish into the depths of your attention.

"You told me that before we left," you teased. "I'm starting to suspect you’ve been lying to me this whole time about your eidetic memory. Could that be true, Dr. Reid?"

"Maybe," he admitted with a small shrug. "Or maybe some facts just deserve to be repeated. After all, we choose what we believe."

You let out a short laugh.

"You’d probably prefer if I blindly believed the second version. Fine, I’ll do it—but just know, I’m keeping a close eye on you, okay?" you warned, pointing a finger at him. He raised his hands as if washing them of all accusations.

You smiled again, but behind it still lingered the interrupted topic. You swallowed.

"Alex seems really nice. You’ve told me a little about them, so I thought you might have told them about me too."

You said it before you could stop yourself. You saw the expression that crossed his face—surprise that you had addressed the issue so directly, mixed with a deeply buried nervousness at having to explain.

"I..." he began, drawing in a breath. "You know, I just prefer to wait with things like this. They’re my friends, but I keep a lot to myself. That’s just…that’s just how I am. I didn’t think it would hurt you..."

"It didn’t," you cut in quickly. A wave of discomfort washed over you for even bringing it up. Spencer was right—that was just the way he was, and you didn’t want to criticize the way he navigated relationships. Besides, it really wasn’t a big deal. You didn’t want to ruin the evening over something like this. You really didn’t."Seriously, it’s not like that. I was just curious. They know about me, but I don’t expect you to tell everyone about us. They’re your friends, and you should tell them when you feel like it."

"Your opinion matters here too," he pointed out, a faint crease appearing on his forehead. "Did you…did you tell your friends you were seeing someone?"

You pursed your lips, pretending to think it over. The real answer was pretty much everyone. But you knew that if you said that outright, he’d feel awkward about it, so you held back.

"I might have mentioned something…but I was waiting for things to be clear between us first. Also, that was the first time you called me your girlfriend."

"Was that okay?"

"I hope so. I mean…was it okay for you?"

For a moment, you both fell silent before bursting into laughter at the sheer absurdity of the conversation. This was exactly what you needed—to wrap yourselves back up in the lightheartedness the evening called for. The occasion. The date. 

You let out a quiet breath of relief, inwardly pleased with how the evening was unfolding. Conversation flowed as easily as ever—teasing remarks, grins smudged with amusement, and chaotic little anecdotes filling the space between you. Then your meals arrived.

You both followed a natural path in your discussion, one that inevitably led back to the topic that had dissolved along with the snowflake on Spencer’s hand. Genetics. And the longer he spoke, the harder it became to pretend you actually understood what he was saying.

Because this wasn’t like summarizing the history of Henry VIII’s wives—an engaging tidbit that could be followed with interest, even without prior knowledge. No, this felt more like jumping back into a conversation that had been paused, except you were the wrong person to be continuing it.

You shifted in your seat, uneasy.

You had never found yourself in a situation like this before, and you weren’t sure how to handle it. There was also a strange, nagging feeling—like this wasn’t the first time it had happened. Had Spencer done this before, and you’d just never noticed because you hadn’t been listening closely enough?

You knew you should address it, but it took you so long to work up the nerve that, by the time you finally spoke, he had already been talking for several more minutes without your active participation. The fork in your hand suddenly felt heavier as you took a deep breath.

“Spencer,” you forced yourself to interrupt.

He stopped immediately. Then, as he took in the worried expression on your face, his lips parted slightly in surprise. You could tell he was already wondering whether he’d said something wrong.

You tried to keep your tone light. “Why…why are we talking about this, exactly? I mean, it’s not that it isn’t interesting, but I’ve never had anything to do with genetics. I can’t really keep up with this conversation.” He stayed silent as you let everything spill out, and you instantly felt like it was somehow your fault. The urge to apologize nearly overwhelmed you. “Sorry. You know…never mind. I must have just not been paying enough attention….”

Spencer froze in place, his gaze fixed on the table in front of him for a moment. There was a fleeting devastation in his expression. Emptiness didn’t just appear in his eyes—it spilled out, breaking through like lava erupting from a torn surface in disaster films.

But suddenly, he looked into your eyes, and in an instant, it was gone.

It had only managed to tighten your stomach.

"You're right," he admitted, nodding with guilt. "Sorry, I just..."

And then he trailed off, gazing at you with a kind of helplessness. Slowly, you set your fork down.

"Restroom. I'll be right back," you excused yourself gently, offering a soft smile as a quiet reassurance that everything was okay.

Bitterly, you called yourself an immature runaway in your mind. You didn’t understand why you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing up these topics, from manifesting your discomfort during moments like this. You knew how to ruin an evening—you did it almost habitually, as if it were your job.

You could have just let him talk. He was happy; you could have let him stay that way.

You always cared deeply about the people around you. But when it came to Spencer, it was different. In some special way. Because even though you hadn’t been together for long, you were beginning to fall for him, and his worries were slowly becoming your own. He didn’t talk much about it, but he had told you about his previous girlfriend. About grief, about feeling lost. You knew his job affected him, too.

Very, very rarely did he allow himself to have moments of weakness around you. At least, you hoped they were just moments. You prayed they were only fleeting, not something permanently etched into his face or clawing relentlessly at the inside of the mask he wore every day.

That was when his gaze would slip away in that same distant way. When he would sink into himself, only to snap back to order. He never spoke about it out loud. You wished he would, but maybe it was too soon between you to ask for that. You didn’t want to scare him off. You didn’t want to lose him.

You pressed your hands against the sink. They trembled.

You promised yourself that you would go back with a smile on your face and make this evening the best one you had shared in a long time.

That was when you felt someone watching you.

Alex stepped into the restroom, but she didn’t look like she intended to use it.

You forced a smile onto your lips, though it took effort. You turned to the sink and started washing your hands, pretending nothing weighed on you.

"Can we talk?" Alex asked. Her arms were crossed, and she spoke softly, delicately—like she didn’t want to scare you off. That tone reminded you of a teacher talking to a preschooler, and you disliked it immediately.

"Sure," you replied. Despite your best efforts, you sounded dry. "About what?"

She sighed. You didn’t look at her in the mirror. You didn’t meet her gaze.

"Do you know why I was so surprised to see you with Spencer?"

"Because he never mentioned me before?"

"Because it’s been so little time," she said, ignoring your response.

At last, you turned to face her, forgetting to dry your hands. Something inside you already sensed where this conversation was heading, and you didn’t like it.

Alex’s eyes widened.

"He…he didn’t tell you…?"

"About his ex-girlfriend?" you cut in. "That she died? He told me, of course, he told me. We’re together. I just don’t understand why you’re bringing this up now."

She tilted her head to the side with a solemn expression.

"Because I don’t think enough time has passed for him to be dating someone new."

Her words hit like a slap, and you immediately took a defensive stance.

"Good thing it’s not up to you to decide what Spencer should or shouldn’t do," you stated, no longer hiding your sharpness. "Grief is a personal matter."

"That’s true," she admitted patiently, inclining her head. "It’s a very personal matter. Everyone experiences it differently. But it’s only been two months since Maeve’s death. And forgive me for saying this—it might sound harsh. You seem like a wonderful person, and Spencer is my friend. I really don’t want to hurt either of you. But he hasn’t moved on. I can tell because I see him every day. You need to be aware of how this looks from the outside. Like he’s seeking comfort..."

"I won’t have that," you cut her off, your voice trembling.

Your head buzzed. You didn’t want to take her words to heart, didn’t want to believe her. She didn’t know what she was talking about—she knew nothing about your relationship with Spencer.

For the first time, you heard her name. Maeve.

He had never said it. He always just called her girlfriend.

He had also never told you when it happened. You had assumed it was much longer than two months ago. Especially since…

“How long have you been seeing each other?” Alex asked, undeterred by your tone.

The worst part was that she genuinely seemed concerned about you. At least, that’s what her expression suggested. You would have preferred pity over sympathy. You would have preferred if she was just trying to sabotage you. Then you could have ignored her.

You met Spencer a month ago.

You turned your back to her so she wouldn’t see the look on your face.

She saw it anyway. The mirror was right in front of you.She stepped forward, reaching out as if to place a hand on your shoulder, but you moved away. She nodded in understanding.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” she said. “But I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t tell you. You have the right to know. I’d prefer…I’d prefer if you didn’t mention this conversation to Spencer.”

You just wanted her to leave.

But she stubbornly waited for a response.

Eventually, you nodded.

Once she was gone, you dropped your head over the sink.

You needed a long moment to untie the knot that had formed in your stomach as a result of that interaction. Her words kept coming back, and they hurt. They came back and hurt, over and over, knocking on the door and then running away like kids playing a game to annoy the neighbors. Your eyes burned with tears of disbelief, but you quickly pushed them away. You didn’t want Spencer to notice anything.

You started rationalizing it all.

Yes, you had only been together for a short time, but you had never questioned his intentions toward you. He had never lied to you, never deliberately hurt you. Besides, he was a smart man, and you couldn’t believe that someone like him would toy with another person’s feelings—his partner’s—just to make himself feel better. He wouldn’t use you as a temporary bandage for his pain. That wasn’t his style, and the argument about his recent grief didn’t convince you.

Yes, it was soon.

But as you had said yourself, it was personal matter. 

You almost felt foolish for letting Alex’s words—those of a woman you had only just met—affect you so deeply. You smoothed your hair, steadied your breathing, and smiled at your reflection. That was how you intended to return to the table—composed, ready to immerse yourself in conversation, to lift both your spirits, to let him talk about anything he wanted as a form of atonement for your doubts.

And that’s exactly what you did.

You listened to him from beneath lifted lashes, delighting in the happy spark in his eyes, even though the meaning of his words barely registered. The knot in your stomach had dissolved, and you could eat again, savor the meal, the evening, his presence. Nothing could change that.

So even when, caught up in conversation, he mentioned a phone call you didn’t remember ever having, you just let it slide.

*

You couldn’t remember the last time you had woken up next to each other.

You lived separately, and in the end, you both worked so much that the opportunity rarely presented itself. The rest of the evening had been absolutely wonderful, and when you opened your eyes, your first fleeting thought was that the morning would unfold in the same warm atmosphere.

But then you quickly realized it was far too early to be waking up.

The room was still cloaked in darkness, broken only by the faint outline of your tangled bodies and the soft glow of white sheets.

You hadn’t woken up together.

You had woken up alone—or rather, you had been woken up by his sudden movement, the sharp inhale of breath.

Still drowsy and dazed, you propped yourself up on your elbow, trying to get a better look at Spencer. His hair was tousled, his eyes squeezed shut far too tightly for someone in peaceful sleep. He mumbled something under his breath before jolting again, this time murmuring something almost pleadingly.

That’s when you realized—he was having a nightmare.

You felt a pang in your chest, a rush of compassion filling you. His face looked so defenseless against whatever haunted him—even in sleep. This was the first time you had witnessed something like this in your relationship, so you hesitated for a moment before deciding on your next move.

Gently, you wove your fingers through his hair, stroking it soothingly. Then, you pressed yourself closer to his side, wrapping your arms around him as much as you could, whispering quiet reassurances.

At first, he didn’t move. You thought the nightmare had passed, and you remained still, wondering if it had been your doing. Not that it mattered. What mattered was that he was okay now.

Still caught in sleep, Spencer turned toward you, burying his face against your neck. His breathing started to even out, the steady warmth of it tickling your skin. You couldn't help but smile softly.

He mumbled something you couldn’t quite understand.

Was he still dreaming?

“I love you.”

You finally made out the muffled words, and they caught you completely off guard. You had never said it to each other before—you thought it was too soon. You thought those words needed the right moment, something special. But as you lay there, wrapped up in the quiet of the night, you realized this was the perfect moment. Just the two of you, small in the arms of the darkness, so drowsy you were forced into honesty.

I love you too.

You were just about to say it when Spencer spoke again—just a little faster, just a little softer.

And what he said was like a quick, unexpected stab. You didn’t feel the pain yet, but you could already see yourself bleeding.

“I love you, Maeve.”

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"On a snowy day." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

On a snowy day, Daryl's daughter tells him about an interesting conversation between you and Aunt Maggie, but Marley ends up spilling the beans to Carol too about her daddy's worst fear.

A/N: Just another sweet and funny imagine about Daryl and his daughter hehe another one to add to the list :) "My everything." "A whole new world." "For life." "Make you happy." Hope you like it♥

The whole street, the whole block, all of Alexandria is covered in snow, painting the world of the living white after being blood red for so many years. The green of the leaves has disappeared under the cold season, snowmen on every house as a reminder of the past. Snowflakes sway in a gentle dance in the evening breeze, under a sky that changes color with the passing of the hours.

On her way back home, holding her daddy’s hand, Marley’s little world seems infinite at 5 and a half years old. Her winter boots sink into the snow, lifting it slightly with each step she takes. Her brown hair is identical to her father’s, a little messy under her white wool hat.

“The shot still hurt, angel?” Daryl has to look down to meet his daughter’s gaze, blue eyes looking back at him, deeply. “Ya want daddy to carry ya the rest of the way?”

Marley nods, because the walk back from visiting her mom in the infirmary was too long for her little legs.

“Please, daddy.”

Daryl smiles as his ears fill with the tender, sweet voice of his daughter calling him daddy, a voice he learned to recognize ever since Marley said her first word. He has to bend down to pick her up, holding her against his chest as she hugs him close, his forearms beneath her, her small arms around his neck.

“Why are ya so cute, huh?” Daryl is still smiling as he sets off again for the walk home. “Ya do that on purpose, don’ ya? Is that yer master evil plan? To make daddy love ya so much he can’t breathe?”

Marley laughs, her gaze locked with her father's eyes, the corners of her lip curling into a smile as she continues to learn to understand the depth of her Daddy's love, but before she can respond, a neighbor's wave from her front porch forces them both to look to the right.

Daryl lets out a small hey back without stopping, followed by a nod before turning back to his daughter, but Marley’s eyes are still on the woman they leave behind.

“Sweetheart…” He uses his arms under her body to rock her once, softly, getting her to look back in his direction. “What’s wrong, angel?”

Marley holds a thoughtful expression, her brow furrowing slightly with the seriousness of her little thoughts at her short 5 years old. But Daryl can’t help but smile, because that expression is identical to yours when you both didn’t like something.

“Aunt Maggie told mommy that Mrs. Ellie likes to stare at you too much when you leave the house in your sleeveless shirt in the summer. She said the neighbor was a female version of a dog, but I don’t know what that means, daddy.”

Hearing her words, Daryl has to make an enormous effort not to laugh.

“Mommy said that? Or was it Aunt Maggie?”

“Aunt Maggie...” Marley tilts her head to the side, still thoughtful. “But Mommy said we needed to get you some baggy clothes, or burn that shirt, or maybe just get rid of the neighbor, but I don’t know what that means either.”

It’s hilarious for Daryl at the new information, though he does his best to remain cool, but there’s also something daring in your words, a compliment to his body even though he wore those clothes without a thought for others. Well, he knew he did it to get your attention, but not the rest of the world’s. Daryl also knew that kids didn’t know how to keep secrets, no matter if they knew or not that some things weren’t supposed to be said.

And he can’t help but smile.

“Oh yeah? And what else mommy said ‘bout daddy, Marley?”

Marley’s expression changes as in her mind, she starts putting the words mommy and daddy together.

“Mommy told Aunt Maggie that you are still very hot, like living forever on a summer day.” Daryl chuckles as does his daughter, having a blast with your unfiltered words, though he also knew that he had to teach his child later that listening to adult conversations was wrong. “Is that a good thing, daddy?”

“Well… that means mommy finds daddy attractive.”

Marley nods slightly.

“So you are handsome, because you are.” She smiles, because to her, Daddy is the most handsome man in the community. Daryl shakes his head, because his reserved personality still prevented him from seeing himself the way others did. “Mommy said she really likes your long hair.”

The corner of his lip curls into a smile, loving the way Marley’s small hands brush away the strands of hair that usually cover part of his eyes.

“Maybe Daddy should tell Mommy that he really likes her too.”

Marley lets out a sweet laugh, hugging his neck again.

“You stare at Mommy a lot, Daddy. Last week at Uncle Rick’s house, he told his wife that you couldn’t take your eyes off your wife.”

Even in the dead of winter, Daryl can feel the sudden warmth on his cheeks, spreading throughout his body as he climbs the steps of his front porch, walking over to the rocking chair in the corner to sit in it with Marley on his lap, her little legs swinging out on either side.

“Yeah, daddy likes to look at mommy a lot, angel, and s'cause mommy is a pretty thing to look at.”

Marley thinks for a few seconds, trying to understand such simple words that at the same time hide a deep meaning.

“The love you and mommy have for me, is it the same as yours for mommy?”

Daryl has to think about his answer for a few seconds, trying to explain with words that his daughter can understand, the love he had for her and for his wife.

“S'the same, but different. Mommy and daddy love ya with all their hearts, angel, 'cause ya came into our lives to make everythin' better. And daddy loves mommy with all his heart too, that’s why I asked mommy to be ma wife, so she’d be stuck with me for life.” Daryl tries not to laugh as he remembers that that was what he told you when you got married. “Mommy and daddy love each other a lot too, and ya were born from that love.”

Marley holds his gaze, her little mind trying to process his words.

“Aunt Maggie asked Mommy if you two were thinking about having another baby.” Marley tilts her head again, looking at her daddy with blue eyes that sparkle with curiosity. “Are we having another baby at home, Daddy?”

Daryl smiles as he uses one hand to tuck a strand of his daughter’s hair behind her ear, but for him, it’s a relief to see his baby willing to share her place as queen of the house.

“Don’ know, angel. Daddy thinks it might be a good idea for ya to have a lil’ brother or sister at some point, but that’s Mommy’s decision. S'her body that has to carry the baby, and Daddy ain't pressurin' Mommy into doin' anythin’ she’s not comfortable with, okay?”

Marley nods.

“But maybe if we ask Santa for a baby, he can bring one and Mommy won’t have to carry my little brother or sister inside her.”

Daryl chuckles, but he too is at peace with the idea that his daughter’s innocence is still intact in that cruel world.

“That’s an excellent idea, angel.” His hand, warm despite the season, caresses his daughter’s soft cheek. “If s'okay with Mommy, I know ya’ll be a great big sister.”

Marley smiles at the touch of her daddy’s fingers against her skin, not even noticing that his hand is calloused, somewhat rough, because he always caressed her cheek softly, so gently that she never noticed Daryl’s insecurity the first time he thought he would hurt her skin.

“You, Daryl Dixon…” Marley giggles, because she never used her daddy’s real name, because to her, he had always been daddy. “You’re a good daddy. The best daddy in the whole world.”

Like the snow melting when the weather leaves winter behind, Daryl feels an overflowing love for his little daughter, his baby, his angel, feeling her love that managed to melt those fears he harbored inside him, the mistaken idea that he would never be the father Marley deserved.

“Can ya stay this lil’ forever, angel? Can ya promise daddy ya will never leave his side?”

Marley tries not to laugh, making an effort to keep a serious expression to match her promise.

“I’ll never leave your side, daddy. I promise.”

Daryl smiles, and when he does, his expression softens, always, and his blue eyes become warm as he takes in how identical his daughter is to him.

“What’s this beautiful couple doing here?” Carol’s sweet voice draws their attention, and Marley has to turn to look at her, smiling the instant she recognizes her. Daryl pulls her off his lap, and his daughter clings to Carol’s body the moment she reaches the porch. “Are you better now, honey? Your mommy said you were getting a little sick.”

Marley looks up, smiling instantly.

“Yes, Denisse gave me a shot. It hurt a little, but when she told daddy he should get one too to prove to me it didn’t hurt, he told her only his wife could touch his ass.”

Carol’s laughter drowns out Daryl’s embarrassment, embarrassment he tries to cover with a serious expression, but when she says goodbye minutes later and Marley climbs back onto her daddy’s lap, he has to keep the same expression so as not to give himself away.

“Marley, sweetheart, s'okay when ya tell daddy that mommy thinks he’s attractive, but ya don’ have to tell everyone that daddy’s scared of shots, okay?”

Marley, though confused by the contradictory idea that always telling the truth is okay, nods before leaning against Daryl’s chest, one side of her face feeling the softness of his long–sleeved black t–shirt that he always pulls up to his elbows. Daryl chuckles as he wraps his arms around her, like a refuge from the slight chill while they wait for mommy to come home. Then, he shakes his head in disbelief, his long hair moving with him, because Daryl knows that when the day is over, his family, the family he made at the end of the world, will know that the man who survived a couple of gunshots and several fights is scared of shots.

Oh, but what the hell, because after marrying the love of his life and having a little girl as a daughter, everyone already knew that, despite his rough exterior, Daryl is a big softie (in a good way) for his girls.

@fluffy-dixon

[ask-the-ryans]

Hell yeah)) A lil gift. Rory drawing snowflake… dang it, wrong line.

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AAAAA большое спасибо 😭😭😭😭РОРИ ЧТО ТЫ ДЕЛАЕШЬ((((

And thank you people the words and support  ♥♥♥ (YES YOU ON MY INBOX, I got my eye on you too!) 

But for now, wee comeback time.

I’ve mentioned before on this post. Long story short, I love asktheryans dearly and that’s why I’m hesitant to add more things to this blog cos... the story that I wanted to tell has been told! Hell man, I tried to push myself back in 2022 to make an EPIC ACTION YUNG ARAN COMIX and that resulted in a spectacular burnout. That’s the universe telling me “don’t fuck with asktheryans unless you’re actually inspired, idiot”.

Therefore, I no longer wanna make the wrestler AU a “thing” because I can smell a burnout from far away. I enjoyed making that one luchador Aran drawing a lot, but I shouldn’t make compromises at this stage being as busy as I am...

Is this the end? NO, you dramatic dingus. There is no “end” unless I’m dead, but there’s also no “coming up next” or “to be continued” unless I’m working on a project with a script and a ton of drafts. I’ve learnt that not every bit of my art has to be all serious and planned out; sometimes you just wanna put what’s in your mind out there, and there’s no calendar for it.

Lastly, again, thank you people for all the kindness, your art and feedback. Never expected that a 2009 wii game woulda opened so many doors. But anywho, I’m still not dead, and this blog I made back in highschool is just chilling.

Y SÍ, Rory es una traficante y Soda Popinski también se chingaría a los técnicos, pero eso quizá lo dibuje otro día. Espera sentado anon, tekiero.

[busra-tr]

🖤SNOWFLAKE SET SET-428 BD1152 & BD1153 🖤

10 Colors

Adult-Elder-Teen-Young Adult

For Female

Compatible with HQ mod-

-New Mesh

-All Lods

- Custom thumbnail

**-Please do not re upload or claim as yours feel free to re color but do not include the mesh .

DOWNLOAD SWEATER

DOWNLOAD DENIM SKIRT

I hope you like them.  ♥

💖 You can check out my Patreon for special cc and other early access content. 💖

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2023-12-31

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Jotun!Loki stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

❆ Ice Flower by holdmytesseract • 〔F᜶M〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: "Jötunheim, home of the Frost Giants; where King Loki Laufeyson and his Queen Y/N Odinsdottir sit upon the throne and rule over the snowy realm. Together with their twin sons Áki and Váli, they live inside the royal palace."

❆ Snowflake￨Prt. II￨Prt. III by christinebloodwrittings • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "Thor has to pay a visit to his bff the prince of Jötunheim, Jane tags along and… drags you with her…, little did you know who you were going to meet."

❆ Cold Hands by sinner-as-saint • 18+ • 〔E〕 •

Summary: "...you've always hated the cocky, excessively flirty future King of Jotunheim. So when he shows up, as always, for one of Thor's parties on Asgard, the last thing you expected to do was hooking up with the arrogant Prince. "

❆ Fashion Changes by christinebloodwrittings • 〔F᜶M〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Loki and you have been fighting the cold together for a while, but sometimes the outside whispers can get caught up in his head.

❆ Frosty Fancy by ladyfluff • 〔F〕

Summary: "Loki wasn’t sure what it was about her that made him want to spend more and more time in Asgard but he wanted to find out."

❆ Little Star￨Prt. II by dyns33 • 18+ • 〔F〕 •

Summary: {…}

❆ Lucky by fanficshiddles • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Arranged marriage between Jotun Loki and a Princess. Their wedding night.

❆ Now and Forever by christinebloodwrittings • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: After giving birth you're just not the same anymore, specially after Jötun twins. So you offer Loki a night without compromise.

❆ Prince and the Servant, the by dyns33 • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: Loki Laufeyson, Prince of Jötunheim, after acquiring human servants from Midgard, falls in love with you, a Midgardian women. However, a prophecy…

❆ Worthy by christinebloodwrittings • 〔F᜶M〕 • ♡ •

Summary: Being in love isn't easy, especially when your beloved lives and rules a frozen rock on another realm.

❆ After the After Party by starks-hero • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Pride and Joy by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

❆ Protective by starks-hero • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Shivers by clandestineloki • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Size Queen by bakugousaysdie • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Sweet Little Thing by starks-hero • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Dating Jötun!Loki... by starks-hero • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Dating Frost Giant Loki... by witchthewriter • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Loki Odinson Master Index

Authors: @bakugousaysdie || @christinebloodwrittings || @clandestineloki || @dyns33 || @fanficshiddles || @holdmytesseract || @ladyfluff || @sinner-as-saint || @starks-hero || @witchthewriter ||

[quintessenceofdust88]

Congrats on reaching a follower milestone!

For a prompt, how about.... snow fight? It could be just bucktommy or all the 118 and Tommy, whichever you prefer!

Thanks!

darling this is SO late, I am sorry! I hope you enjoy it and don't mind that it's sliiiightly a sequel for my Nonna Rosa fix-it (but not particularly, it can be totally read as its own thing!)

Thank you so so much for the prompt, I had a lot of fun writing it! ♥

--

It’s the day after Christmas, and Tommy can’t remember the last time he was this peaceful. As he stares at the trees in his Nonna’s backyard, all covered in fluffy snow, he realizes why Christmas in LA doesn’t feel quite perfect. It’s starting to get chilly, and he should probably go back inside, but the sight is too compelling to leave behind.

He hears the door open and close again behind him, and turns around to see Evan coming towards him with a thick checkered scarf in his hand. “Nonna’s orders, she said that if you plan to stay out here, she won’t let you freeze to death” Tommy chuckles and takes it gratefully, wrapping it around his neck, and then hugging Evan close. His boyfriend lets out a happy sigh. “Man, I hadn’t seen a snowy Christmas in a while. I missed it”

“Yeah, it’s quite something, isn’t it?” He mutters happily. “I love Christmas in LA, but this… It takes me right back to my childhood”

“Oh, I can totally imagine little Tommasino Domenico enjoying his Christmas right here in this backyard” He says cheekily, and Tommy rolls his eyes. 

“I should have never let you learn my middle name” He grumbles, and Evan chuckles. 

“Technically you didn’t, it was your grandma” He says with a shrug, and then smirks. “Eddie says it suits you”

“What?!” Tommy exclaims in mock outrage. “You told Eddie?!” 

“You should check the group chat more often, babe. Chim says he’ll exclusively call you Dommy from now on” Evan answers with a wink, and Tommy can’t believe what he’s hearing. He’s dating a complete brat, and the worst part is that he loves it. 

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for this, Buckley” He says, poking Evan’s rib, and the other man snickers, getting away from him and raising an eyebrow.

“Am I? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Domenico”

Oh, he’s asking for it, isn’t he? Tommy smirks himself, approaching Evan slowly, his boyfriend clearly bracing himself for some playful wrestling (they do that sometimes, and the way it usually ends is one of the reasons why their Muay Thai lessons never really worked). What he doesn’t expect is for Tommy to shove a hastily formed snowball against his ear. Evan gasps, a surprised and outraged smile forming in his face as he shivers from the unexpected cold. 

“Ohhhh, Kinard, you started a war” He says, obviously trying to sound threatening, but Tommy only finds it adorable. It’s like a golden retriever trying to growl. 

“And what are you gonna do about it, Buckley?” Tommy teases, and is rewarded with a much better formed snowball sent right to the middle of his face; he’s gotta hand it to Evan, his aim is pretty good.

It doesn’t take long for it to descend into chaos, the two of them throwing snowballs at each other; Tommy’s are big but hastily shaped, while Evan takes his time to form small round balls that compensate in impact what they lack for size. At some point, they start chasing each other around the yard, just throwing fistfuls of snow at each other, laughing like two carefree children. 

And, well, who can blame Tommy for being distracted by the beautiful sight of a flushed cheek Evan chasing him? Unfortunately for him, that’s when his boyfriend takes his chance, tackling Tommy down and pinning him to the ground. Tommy falls down on the cold floor with a groan, already feeling his coat getting wet, but he’s smiling between heavy breaths. 

“You cheated,” He accuses, staring up into the most beautiful eyes he knows. He raises a hand to gently remove a snowflake from Evan’s eyebrows, right above his birth mark, and is rewarded with an impossibly besotted smile.

“So you admit defeat, Thomas?” He teases, breathing heavily himself, and Tommy smirks at him.

“Oh, yes, I fully admit defeat and am ready to be taken as your prisoner of war” Tommy says, and Evan laughs, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. Tommy kisses him back, feeling warm despite having his back covered in snow. 

“Hm, I’ll show you prisoner of war, you dork” He says when they part, pressing another peck to the corner of his lips. “But perhaps not at your grandma’s house”

“You’re such a spoilsport” Tommy grumbles as Evan gets off him and offers a hand to help him up. He takes it, his knees cracking and protesting, his back giving a painful twinge as he stretches. “Damn, I’m getting too old for this” He groans.

“C’mon, old man, Nonna will probably yell at us if we don’t get inside for hot chocolate soon” Evan teases, and Tommy feels impossibly giddy that he knows his grandmother so well already. 

As he follows Evan inside his childhood home, Tommy spares a thought for the teenage boy he once were, who spent so many Christmas in this house, completely sure he would never find love. 

He’s never been happier to be proven wrong.

[doumadono]

I just wanna know why so many adult mha smut creators say they age up minors as if it justifies their attraction to them. Would you say it's okay to age up Eri too?

Ah, aging-up fictional characters, my favorite controversial topic! ♥ You know, I was low-key anticipating an anon to drop this kind of question, sooner nor later (what a pity you didn't have balls to come off-anon tho!). I've had my fair share of childish anons before, and trust me, those went straight into the digital dumpster. But hey, this time, I've decided to lay it all out on the table, crystal clear 🙅‍

You know, I've done it all – murder, rape, summoned demons, even glorified Satan and had several children killed in my stories. But guess what? Not a single pair of handcuffs in sight! 😎 And don't get me started on the horror section at any bookstore - it's like a buffet of dreadful deeds.

Let's be real, the purity police can take a hike. There's something oddly fishy about the fact that fanfic, mostly crafted by awesome writers, gets the brunt of the criticism or some ridiculous accusations, especially the smutty bits, while the gruesome stuff gets a free pass 🤷

Look, folks, it's all about context. Fiction is a realm where creativity knows no bounds, right? So, if I want to age-up a character for a mature storyline, I'll go for it 🤷 Look, it's all a part of the creative process. Fiction is like a playground where we can swing from the monkey bars of imagination, right? Aging-up fictional characters is a common practice in creative communities, and it's important to remember that these characters exist solely within the realm of fiction - they are not real, so it doesn't hurt them in any single way. It allows creators to explore different scenarios and relationships without crossing any ethical boundaries :) Also! Aging-up characters isn't some sneaky scheme to write "inappropriate" content about youngsters. It's about taking characters you adore or find fascinating and giving them a new lease on life. It's like those college AU fanfics for characters in their late 30s or kidfic for full-grown adults. It's all about exploring different phases of their lives. So, whether it's smutty or not, the essence remains the same 😎 You see, the whole "aging-up" thing in fanfic/fanart is just common sense. We're not into the whole "let's sexualize kids" scene, so we gracefully turn our characters into adults. It's all about creating content featuring responsible, grown-up folks. And let's get real, if reading about something meant you were all in on it, then every mystery novel reader out there would have to be either an undercover detective nor a murderer 😎 So let's dial down the judgment and just enjoy our creative freedom, shall we?

But you know, trying to equate aging-up with things like grooming/pedophilia is like saying eating a banana is the same as piloting a spaceship because they're both hands-on activities. Let's keep our perspective here, folks, and not get too carried away with the terminology 😂

If you don’t want to read those stories (containing aged-up characters/dark content/smut with aged-up characters) - then don’t read them - problem solved!

Oh, how times have changed, my friend! Back in the day, I used to let all those comments and anonymous hate bring me down. But guess what? I've evolved, and I've got news for the critics: I write what I want to write, and nobody's gonna tell me otherwise. I've got this little thing called free will, and I'm not about to hand it over to anyone who thinks they can dictate what I should or shouldn't put on paper. If that means ruffling a few feathers, so be it. I've shed my tear-soaked days and embraced the fact that I couldn't care less about those sensitive souls who can't handle a bit of fiction. So, to all you "snowflakes" out there, if you're trying to stifle my creativity, good luck, because I'm just going to crank up the heat and write even smuttier storylines with aged-up characters! Thanks for the encouragement, dear Nonnie – you've only fueled my fire! 🔥😎 I might even consider writing some very dark-themed fic with aged-up Eri, why not! 😈

Oh, hey Anon! Quick question for you. Have you ever picked up a Stephen King book? You know, the master of horror and suspense? Well, if you have, you might've noticed that he doesn't shy away from some pretty explicit content, and not just with adults. Sometimes he writes about kids too, and they're sometimes off legal age as well! Surprise, surprise. You can stroll into a bookstore, grab a book off the shelf, and guess what? There's a good chance that some of those books contain content that would make a sailor blush! Yet, the world isn't collapsing because of it. The point is, even in mainstream literature, you'll find situations that might make you raise an eyebrow. So, let's not throw stones at age-up fiction creators when the literary giants sometimes walk on the same edge, right? 😏

In the conclusion, if you've got a problem with aging-up fictional characters, dear Nonnie, you might want to take a chill pill and remember that it's all just a bit of fun in the end ♥ Well, you know what would truly make my day? If you took the liberty to hit that "block" button with glee and gracefully vanished from my interactions. And if, by some chance, you decide to stick around, don't hold your breath for a response. I'll be too busy conjuring up some fiery, smutty tales featuring Bakugo or Shoto or any other character I like to bother with your, shall we say, less-than-enlightening queries. But hey, chin up, pal – here's a little nugget of wisdom from your "older and wiser" friend: go get a life. It's an absolute game-changer 😜 I'm tagging some content creators who write dark fics or use aged-up characters and might face similar anons/anon hate: @mrskokushibo @ectologia @kyojurismo @bakubunny

[shuenkio]

"Enhypen"

Red string with you˚⊹ ᰔ

Paring: Enha X m!reader

Genre: fluff, emotion, love

Red string theory

Do not copy my works (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

CRD to all divider

Some parts are overdo words ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

Heeseung: Living a life as a musician he is, are sure lonely, all alone because he spends all his time every single day in the studio, morning to noon, noon to night, night to midnight, recycling over and over again. One day, when going to the party with his friends, they brought up the love topic and asked him if he had a partner like them, they had been waiting for him to have a romantic life forever yet the man still had no one. He got the look, got money, got everything, just like everyone's dream of. He just responds with a slow nod, he also waiting for some perfect time to have someone by his side however it's like the more he's waiting, the longer it gets. Once the party's over, he waves goodbye to his friends before making his way back home by walking since his apartment is not too far, he chooses to take a nice walk under the snowy rain. The walk seemed so pleasant and cold watching the snowflakes fall above him, making him realize a lot of things he never did before. As he keeps moving his feet zoning out, unexpectedly he bumps into a person who's also lost in their world. Both of them fall to the ground, gathering all their consciousness back before opening their eyes to see you intend your arm open to give them support.

"H-hey sorry to bump into you, are you alright?" He looks at you who's standing on top of him, along with a light street behind you hitting your back, making you look unreal and breathtaking. suddenly he feels like the world has stopped moving when you look at him, you're like someone that God sent to him, his heartbeat does a backflip. "You're the one... For me, I feel it"

Jay: The same goes with him. money? Millions. Look? Hot. Car and house? Check ✓ love? Loading. Born in such a wealthy family, when you seek real love would be a different story. Yes, you can have all the love you want with money, but money can't buy such thing as true love isn't it? It's required your efforts, sweat and tears to get "true love". On the way to his office, with his luxury business bag, an elevator, was about to close suddenly you appeared and quickly waved your hand as a signal for him to stop it for you. Once you enter, you thank him before standing beside him. The moment you make eye contact with him, he feels like his heart telling him you're the missing pieces he had been searching for all along, must make him, his!! "Be my boyfriend!!!" M/n answer "Pardon?" [Too short sorry shawty]

Jake: As the outgoing person he is, he knows what's best for himself and he doesn't need nobody telling him what he needs but as time forward, all his love leaves him for good with the only one reason "looks " Then he realizes they only love him for a short time because of his looks, they got bored with him. Is he just showing his true self? Why is it so hard for him to find someone suitable for him, who's made just for him? God loved giving a hard time, didn't he? Bar! It's the only place they understood him the most. He went to the bar and took a lot of shots, giving himself to the alcohol but no matter how much he drank, he was still sober just a slightly hot throat. You then also came to the bar, and it's happened to sit next to him since all the seats are all pack. You're also ordering the same drink as him too which makes him want to talk to you. Both of you are talking, and giggles how similar your life is before he said "Let's write our story into a better plot together, shall we? I know you're that person who can make my day brighter, I don't care about society against us, we can fight it aren't we?"

Sunghoon: He had some dark past with love. It's not his fault that he was an introvert, loved his comfort zone, used a cold tone whenever talking, and didn't like skin ship much. This is the reason why most people leave him too for their good he is cold, and can't bear him anymore. After all his ugly memory he started to become more heartless, even colder than before, and won't give a chance to anybody again. He's now a single young adult, living his life peacefully. However, the more he cut ties with people, the more isolated he felt. He needed someone, he needed somebody who could be here with him, accept for who he was, someone who was the same way as him. Ultimately he went to relax at his comfort place, the ice rink. As he moves his feet forward, his hand tucked inside his pocket, Out of the blue, You run into him, to your skating shoe won't stop moving as a result of a fall onto the top of him. Embarrassed, your hands are on his chest, you quickly get up and are about to apologize therefore he grips your body tight, and won't let go yet before asking. "I feel like we know each other before, have we?" Blushing, you said no. He continues "No, I mean... For real you're the person who always appears in my dream!!"

Sunoo: The social butterfly, there he goes again, making friends even when he was on the way to work, on the way home, whenever he saw someone he'd ask them how was their day, are they were okay, are they doing well, if they need something just tell him. He's perfect, not to mention that everyone had their flaws but for him, it's almost perfect from head to toe, he had friends, family, socialized well, didn't fear no one, and liked to speak what was on his mind, kind, and everyone's definitely like him. One thing he's lacking is love, he's always giving everyone his love, and comfort words, for everyone's needs but did his love return to him? No. Sometimes he questions himself is he worth it? Did all his hard work pay off? He knows only very few like him for how happy he is, and not his true self. Little did they know he was craving for attention and love back. Consequently, God answered his prayer. Holiday arrived, and when he was cleaning his room, he heard someone knocking on his apartment's door. He went to open it and revealed you checking the room number. He greets you with his bright smile before taking you in(roommate). Day after day, both of him and you become more comfortable with each other, and feel just right when together. And surprisingly he confesses his feeling to you. "I want to start my life with you M/N! The moment you came in I felt like a string had been connected, you are my home, my everything now, please accept this love of mine"

Jungwon: He's fine, he's ok, everything is alright, that's what he said to everyone concerned about him. He doesn't need anything, even love or he's just denying it? He might not need someone at the moment but surely fate will bring him someone whom, he never knew he needed before. he likes to take care of people surrounding him while taking all their worry and weight on his shoulders, alone. And now he said he doesn't need someone to take care of him when he has this kind of idiot thinking, put others before himself. As a result, fate plans to give him someone worthy of him. In a normal day of practicing taekwondo, when he went back home, earphones plugged inside his ear, without notice, someone bumped into him and spilled a drop of coffee on his shirt. "Hey watch where you going dude!!-" he paused. "I- I'm so sorry let me take my napkin" You take your napkin from your pocket before wiping it for him. "you seem familiar, are you around here?" He asked "Nope, but I also feel the same way, you look like someone I knew before" as you answered his question, a biker came from a distance and was about to drive past you two before you could do anything, he grabbed your shoulder turning you around before covering all the mud that's splashing on him. Both of your eyes meet, and explore each other for a second. "Now I know what my grandma means, the red string is real"

Ni-ki: "He looks mean" "He's so intimidating", "ugh I wish you were more friendly " and "Don't date him, he won't be worth it" Those words are like a knife, that's stabbing through his chest, just for a lil of love, why it is so hard. Is it because of how he looks? But who can change their look when they are born with it? Just to please the public eye? Or just to be in relationships? Won't be worth it. Living our life to the fullest would be more worthwhile than pleasing someone, satisfying them and not yourself. Someday he feels sad, he feels happy like how human emotion works. A deep part of his heart aches a little when he sees other people happy, with their partner, laughing happily like nothing to worry about, meanwhile, he living a life with no interesting plot. He always tells himself that he doesn't need it, he has to remember what his past looks like if he ever does, it's hurt but it's even more hurt when you crave something you can't have, isn't it? One fine evening, he checked his fridge and it was empty, the boy decided to go buy some groceries and come back. On the way back home, he happened to pass by the Han River fridge and thought it'd be nice to sit and relax there for a bit. He looked around and saw someone sitting alone on a bench, he went to take a sit next to him. "Hey, can I sit here?" Ni-ki asked with, a silent response. However, when he took a closer look he saw this boy was crying when his cap covered his face. Without further more, he began to rub your back and comfort you silently without speaking a word. After some words with him, he wanted to adopt you right away. "why don't we try this out together, our story is quite the opposite but our hearts are mutual, I don't know and I don't care who you are, feeling is feeling!" He announced, hoping you would agree to him, it might sound weird but you also wanted to" you reply with your stained tears "Let's fight together!"

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

[nohumaen]

I just want all my sweet and beloved followers to know that I love each and all of you ♥

[97keanu]

"ᵒʰ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒⁱˡ

ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ

ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵃ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ

ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁿⁱᶠᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢˡⁱᵗ ᵐᵉ

ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵐᵉ﹖

ⁱ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ

ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱ ᶜˡⁱⁿᵍ

ⁱ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵒ..."

Sandbox Love Never Dies

Dave Lizewski x Demonic!Reader (Jennifer's Body AU)

Premise: In this chapter, reader becomes the god she was always destined to be. She does something she shouldn't, and ends up on Dave's doorstep, the only place she has ever known to go to for help. Dave is completely horrified from the night events, but still cares for reader. Some cannon from JB divergence, maybe this way we can find a happy ending. Either way, the horror is starting to settle in with this chapter, please mind the tags and authors note!

Words: 4.5k

Read chapter one here // be added to the tag list for this fic here

Tags/CW: reader death(and rebirth), side character death implied but spared the gorey details, blood, gore, angst, drama, shared trauma, hurt/comfort, nurse Dave, bath scene, Dave helps reader bathe, Dave and reader end up in some pretty good fluff at the end.

Author's Note: this chapter was really interesting to write as the horror part of this au starts to become more prevelant, but if you are squimish to any of the above CW's the please be mindful when reading. As mentioned, there is a character death in this chapter, but I opted to skip an in depth scene of what happens, but if you've seen JB you should get what's going on. If any of that is confusing, let me know! This chapter is under the cut <3 P.S. this song really fits this chapter, so give it a listen ʚ♥︎ɞ

The sky looms, limitless, an endless expanse of stars over this world. A cruel world where girls too young are tied, roped, adjusted as such to the top of a natural stone used as a sacrificial table. The sky has a million eyes and they're all on you tonight, Snowflake Queen, as your heavy breathing remains still human just yet. The omnipresent dark that covers the earth nightly is just as restrained as you are, helpless to stop what will soon happen. 

You can almost feel the same pit of darkness as the sky open up in your stomach, blood running out as stupid men play stupid games with ritualistic consequences. All you can do is scream, the sound falling on deaf ears of the woods that envelope the scene. 

You find yourself as cold and limitless as the sky as your human body is ruined. The assailants laugh, crack jokes, and sing songs as their blood pumps to the idea of fame and fortune being theirs. As you go still, they figure the job is over, throwing away any evidence into Devil's Kettle, the rushing, hungry mouth of the waterfall that eats all it's given, never to return. They don't even bother to give you a second look as they leave. You can feel the chill of death take you, your breath leaving, leaving, leaving. Never to return as yours.

Then, you feel something else. 

You feel something move inside your broken body, breathing life into your lungs that had just barely stopped its function. You can feel it, black, slimey, crawling down your throat and slipping into that pit of your stomach, but not filling it. No, it sits there like a creature, a parasite, that only adds to the emptiness, that begs as much hunger as the rushing waterfall, it growls with animalistic hunger, the sound rushing out of your mouth as you try to scream. 

You aren't even sure what happened next, your eyes focused on all the little pinpricks of light in the sky that disappear if you look directly at them for too long. What you do remember is the crunching of bone as you escape your restraints, then the sound of it going back into place, your wounds closing, your body changing, a darkness filling your veins. 

You're different, maybe even better, than before.

The next thing you come to realize is how your body finds itself breaking into a run, stumbling through the tree line and seeing the still smoldering Melody Lane Tavern. The fire seems vague and so far away to you now, like another life. The corpse of the building is still illuminated in red and blue, so you decide to walk away from there. As you do, on your path you see someone. 

The shape in the dark is walking with hunched shoulders, holding itself, and shivering. You watch, curious. As you approach, the familiar face begins to connect in your fuzzy brain. 

"Marty?" Your voice croaks out, still so tired from what's happened. 

Marty turns to you, he's completely out of it, but upon seeing a familiar face looks weakly hopefully. 

"You're alive…" You say to him, he can barely speak after what's happened tonight. As you look at him, and see the thin dribbles of blood fall from his head, that pit inside you opens up farther than before. You feel a low growl wanting to escape your lips. Something about that blood is making you so hungry it's taking over your already clouded mind. 

"Does anyone know you're here, Marty?" You say, almost as a puppet, the hunger speaking for you. Marty can only shake his head, and you can almost feel the world go back for what happens next.

The only thing you remember later is flashes, you can't think about it too much, the humanity in you is still on the surface since the transformation. No, you don't want to talk about what you did to Marty. 

You do, however, know that the only thing you feel after is euphoric. You are coated with the blood of this endless nightmare, stumbling about the dark, wet blacktop roads. You barely register the headlights aimed for you, and you know that even if you were struck by a car, you're invincible right now. You drank the blood, and now you're a god.

✧

Dave can't stop shaking. He feels like his stomach might cave in, and he can hardly believe any of tonight happened. He can still see you, dazed, glassy eyed and being pulled into those fuckers van. His muscles tighten just thinking about it, and he feels like he throw a punch for one of the first times in his life. 

He's so worried about you, he has no idea what to even do, but he knows something is wrong. As he and Katie were caught in the hectic aftermath of the fire, the police just starting to show up, he felt something that made him double over in the grass. It was as if his stomach had been slit, he could feel it so vividly, practically sense your pain as much as you felt it. All he could do was writhe in the grass, begging Katie to help him, and not let anyone want to try to keep him here longer. No, he didn't need medical attention, he just needed to get home. He needed somewhere he could be safe, somewhere he could maybe try to think of saving you. 

Katie, despite how little she's known Dave, actually came through, and helped Dave get to his feet. Despite the pain, they made it to Dave's car without anyone trying to stop them. Katie was happy to help Dave, but she was terrified for Erika, who hasn't been spotted yet. Because of this, while she has positioned Dave in the driver's seat, she tells him she has to stay, look for Erika. Dave understands, and they share a look. 

Dave knows all too well how she's feeling right now. That's exactly how he feels about you. He gives her a nod, as if to say 'go to her', and after Katie leaves, Dave takes his own advice. 

He starts the car and begins to drive, his head feeling still filled with the smoke from the fire, smoggy and clouded from the night's trauma. He feels so strange, physically. He had felt the immense pain, but now all he feels is numb. His whole body is cold, and that scares him more than the pain. You have to be alive to feel pain, this numbness…"god…please don't let it mean that…". 

Dave lets himself drive in almost dazed state, the small town is quiet at this time of night, and no one has been seen on the road since he got away from Melody Lane's chaos. In fact, it's so eerily desolate. The cold, wet night glistening off the road. Dave takes his eyes off the road for a moment, to turn on the heat in the car, the shivering cold and numbness reaching a breaking point inside him, it's so strong. 

When he looks back at the road, he practically screams, the terror rising and catching in his throat, he hits the brakes as hard as possible. His headlights flood a figure with a brightness that blocks out half their shape. But what he catches before the person runs, impossibly fast, makes his spit run thin. That puffy white jacket, those piercing eyes, all that blood….

Dave can barely shake himself free of what he's seen, but now he's sitting here, all alone, that numbing feeling drifting away. It's all he can do, so he finishes his drive home.

When he returns home, he can barely move his body, the pain of tonight already setting in as the adrenaline cools and thickens inside him. Dave is just so tired. He weakly goes inside, his dad is likely well asleep, maybe a bottle in. Despite feeling like tonight's events should be 'wake your parent up out of a drunken stupor' worthy, Dave trudges up the stairs to his attic room. As he opens the door, the intense numbing feeling brushes past him once again, and he braces himself. 

Inside, you sit on his floor, bloody and clothes torn, completely dazed. 

Dave cannot describe how it feels to see you, he is shocked, but the relief of having you here, with him, not with those horrible men, washes over him so intensely that his knees almost give out. 

"Oh my god…" Dave doesn't even feel like he's saying it, but the words fall from his mouth. He rushes to your side, falling next to you, and gripping your arms through your jacket. "You're alive…I thought…" 

You're still so dazed, but your eyes slowly drag over to Dave. Your mouth is crusted with blood that's not yours, god, if Dave knew from whom it came from he would never forgive you. Besides that, you can hardly understand what compelled you, in this new form, to come here. Old habits die hard, you suppose. You also have a feeling that absolutely terrifies you when Dave comes so close. 

As much as you felt something similar when you saw Marty, this is different. You feel as if the hunger inside you isn't an overwhelming coldness, no it's not the need to fill that numb spot within you. It's different. A blazing fire. It builds, your stomach set ablaze and filled with a want and a yearning that is so strong. You eye Dave with a hunger that goes well beyond the need to eat, no, this isn't sustenance, it's a want for him, all of him.

You can just imagine, pulling him up from the floor, dragging him to his bed, and your weight and power on top of him. You can just imagine his innocent eyes as you can't decide whether to fuck him or sink your teeth into him. Just the thought of sliding his cock into you while you do both, tasting him, his neck in your mouth, the submission as he allows you to take him, all of him…

Dave has to reach up and gently grab your chin, focusing your attention on him. You didn't even realize a low growl had started forming, deep within your chest as you thought about consuming Dave.  You also notice he had been talking while you imagined this, and feel a mixture of disgust and lust. 

"What happened…?" Is all he can say at this point, you seem completely broken, and he can sense that your energy is different even if he doesn't acknowledge that he does. You don't respond, for a long moment, your thoughts a haze of trying to ignore the budding hunger inside of you, and remembering how to be, well, human. Even if you couldn't articulate it now, you knew you were not like Dave anymore, not at all. You aren't really sure what you are, or everything it entails, but you know for sure if you don't keep your hunger in check…you don't even want to think about what could happen, the guilt from your still fresh humanity filling your veins with a chill. 

"Dave…can you…can you please just help me up…" You start, your voice is dry and tired. Dave doesn't even question, he simply stands and holds out his hands, those large hands you've dreamed about touching you. You realize how cold your hands are to his nice, warm, human hands. He swiftly pulls you up, and you wobble, his hands there to steady you at the waist.

You're so close when you look up at him. He wasn't always this tall, you remember when you were kids, and you used to tease him about how he was shorter than you. You're almost certain that it was around the time he gained an inch, that one defining inch, above you, that's about when you started to fall in love with him. It wasn't so much that his being taller did something to you to change your feelings on him, no, it was more of the fact that after that, you guys slowly became more than just schoolyard mates. Even if you would never admit those feelings that fluttered at the worst times. Right now, is one of them. If you could blush, you would be right now, Dave's big blue eyes look at you with concern and worry. Of course, Nurse Dave as always, here to patch up your bloody knees just like when you were kids. 

Right now, it's a bit more than a scrap on the knee. Dave doesn't know if he should even be keeping you here, if all that blood is yours, well, he should take you to the hospital, right? You seem so pale, so fragile as he slowly takes over the situation, no longer time for questioning any of this. 

"Here, let's go to the bathroom…" He says softly, guiding you to his en suite. It's small, dimly lit by a yellowing bulb, and messy in a way that teenage boys always seem to make. He gently picks you up, and for a moment, you're surprised at how strong Dave is. You don't remember when he got to be so strong. He sets you on the sink counter, which has ample room for you, and begins by taking your puffy, once white, jacket off. 

"What are you…?" You start, still out of it. 

"You just…" Dave seems embarrassed for a  moment as he continues to undress you, but  his eyebrows pull together, determined for your own safety. "I need to see what happened, you're bleeding so much…" 

Dave's hands begin to shake as he notices  underneath your jacket there is a large hole in your shirt. He has to steady himself, he has no idea how bad the wound is, and as he keeps looking at the shirt he notices more and more holes, the blood making it so hard to see what exactly is going on. 

"Did…oh my god…did you get stabbed?" Dave has to take his glasses off for a moment just to make sure he's seeing this all correctly. There's no way you could even be standing, let alone at his door if these truly are stab wounds. He reaches out gingerly, his fingers barely tracing a hole that goes directly over your heart, and pulls his hand back in fear of that hole leading to a wound in your body. You don't respond to his question, way too tired and focused on fighting your own hunger to be talking much right now. 

"Okay, we need this off…" Dave says quickly, any embarrassment for seeing you in your bra overtaken by how scared he is about what he will see on your body. He gently, but effectively takes your shirt off, a lacy white bra underneath, soaked in blood. Dave looks you over, the blood is slick on your body, starting to turn darker shades of red and  brown now as it begins to dry, but what he realizes is that as his fingers explore your body all he feels is softness. His fingers even trace to that spot, right over your heart, moving away blood that slicks his fingers, and all he finds is smooth, soft skin underneath. No wounds. 

"This…this isn't your blood?" He almost scoffs the words out, in disbelief. By the looks of you when you came in he thought…well, he doesn't really even know what he thought, but he was sure you were in much worse shape. You catch his eyes when he asks, and shake your head wearily. Dave lets out a sigh of relief that expels so much stress he can barely breathe in again when he's done. 

"Holy shit…God…you had me so worried there…" He could almost scream, but instead he does something neither of you expected. His strong arms grab you, pulling you close, almost off the counter, and into his chest. He puts his head right against your tangled, blood soaked hair, and he is glad you can't see him right now. Dave sees a glance of himself in the mirror, the tears forming and slowly dripping down his cheeks. He just can't believe you're here, you're okay, and that he can keep you safe now. 

"I'm so lucky…" He whispers, not necessarily to you, or himself. 

Lucky. You could almost laugh if you weren't losing more and more energy as you feel yourself sinking into Dave's arms. Nothing about tonight had been lucky. In fact, you almost wonder if this is some sort of sick joke being played on you, and if you could  just close your eyes, fall asleep, when you woke it would all be over. 

When Dave finally pulls away, to get a better look at you once more, you let out a small noise of discontent from losing his warm embrace. 

"We should probably get you cleaned up." he says, looking you over, assessing what's needed. "Do you think you can do it yourself…?" 

Before he's even finished asking the question you're shaking your head. Dave can't help a blush rise to his cheeks as he thinks about how he will have to undress you completely to really help you get clean. He then nervously moves his hand to push his glasses back up, before noticing them sitting on the counter next to, and laughs uncomfortably. 

"Well, we'll have to get these c-clothes," he starts sputtering out a bit, he isn't usually so nervous around you, you're, well his best friend in the whole world. And if it wasn't for the gender difference this wouldn't be such a big deal. Dave lets out a shaky breath, then continues, more determined to complete the task at hand so that you can feel better. "Yes, as long as you're okay with it, I'll have to undress you to help you bathe." 

He settles on that, hoping he's not being weird and that the end justifies the mean here. You look up at him, and muster the energy to speak, to calm his nerves. 

"I need your help Dave, I don't care if you see me naked…" You say weakly, and it's true. If it wasn't for the fact that you were feeling as if your energy was fading faster and faster, you may have very well been worried about Dave seeing you naked. But right now? No, you couldn't care even if you tried after the night had. You think Dave senses that and feels the same way. He's just as tired as you, by the look in his eyes. 

Dave doesn't say much more, besides an occasional instruction for helping to get your clothes off. He helps you wiggle out of tight skinny jeans, the task made harder by the blood soaked spots that want to stick to your skin. After that, it's only your bra and panties left. Dave can't help but notice how much of your body is being exposed to him for the first time. It's just how he imagined it, if not even better, and he has to remind himself that this wasn't how this should have gone, and now is not the time for a wandering mind. You tell him you have your underwear covered as far as taking it off, and ask if he can start the bath. 

He nods, says 'of course!' As if he had made some mistake when his hand reached up for the waistband of your matching panties. He turns to the bathtub before he embarrasses himself more, and you slowly, muscles tired and sore, hop off the counter and begin taking off your bra. When you're finally fully undressed, you ask Dave if he can close his eyes as you hop in the tub. 

"Oh, sure, here." He holds out his arm for you to steady yourself as you get in. You utilize this, and as you sink into the half full tub you feel a sense of ease hit you. Dave has it at the perfect temperature, the heat of the bath making you miss his warm arms once more. You let Dave know when he can open his eyes, even though you're sure he can see a full view of your ample chest, it somehow feels better that half of you is protected by the bubbles Dave also added to the bath. 

Dave can feel how deeply red his cheeks are as he watches your breasts rise and fall in the water, and when the water begins to turn a rusty color, Dave straightens his mind out. He kneels down next to the tub, his knees on the bathmat. You slide closer as he grabs a washcloth and begins dipping it in the warm water. Neither of you speak as he begins  with your face, the softness of the cloth and the warmth of the water easing your tensions while taking off blood and make up. Dave has actually helped you take your makeup off for the night before so he starts with this, feeling most confident in his abilities. 

Eventually he finishes your face, and you open your eyes to see him deciding where to start next. He starts on your neck, it's the next thing down that has blood crusted on it, so might as well, right? He cleans gently, making sure that he's not hurting you, going slowly. When you're certain your neck is done, and he's just avoiding going lower, you look up at him, meeting his eyes with a new boldness that has emerged from your transformation. You take his hand gently and lead it to your breast, keeping your eyes locked as you allow him to feel your soft, plump skin there. His eyes look so nervous, something about how much he wants to touch in this way being so clear on his face, yet he rejects it, as to be gentlemanly, or a good friend perhaps, turns you on way more than any of the other boys who have had access to your breasts. 

He takes his time here, despite his nerves. Circling your breasts with the washcloth until your supple skin is all that's showing. He keeps his eyes mainly on yours, something about the connection between you two right now is more than just a horny teenager seeing his first pair of boobs. No, it's deeper than that. It's about the trust between you two, and how Dave is staying focused on your needs first and foremost. That isn't to  say that how he is touching you now isn't making your already weak legs feel weaker, a quivering in your chest and between your legs building as Dave moves on to the other side, making sure to give the same attention there. You can feel yourself twitch as he brushes over your nipples, which are so hard and tight despite the warm water. They just barely float above the bubbles, and Dave makes sure you're all clean before moving on. 

You thought the spell would be broken when he moves on to cleaning your back, but somehow, his hands moving in such a pleasurable massage, makes you want him even more. You completely relax as he cleans, you're sure that it's clean by now, but Dave continues to massage just to make you feel better. When he pauses, you feel his breath against your ear, his voice soft, full of something you've never heard from him before. 

"Does that feel good?" He checks in, and you nod, giving a small, relaxed 'mhm…' along with it. You can't see it, but you're sure Dave is smiling, pleased to please you. He always has been that way. He can't help it when it comes to you. 

He reaches for the shower head, glad that the bath is a two in one, and starts the water there. He checks the temperature again, making sure it won't be shocking, and he wets your hair. He still can't believe how much blood was on you, and you're unharmed. He begins to gently wash your hair, wondering where it came from. Perhaps he'll ask you in the morning when all this might make more sense. But right now, he works a lather into your hair, his hands like magic, moving so thoughtfully through your locks. You find yourself wishing that this had come on any other night. Why is it that you get to know the pleasure of Dave's hands on your body after all that's happened and not on both of your own terms. You are too tired and enjoying what Dave is doing to care right now. That's for another you to ponder sometime.

Dave finishes up your hair, and gives the wash cloth over to you, instructing you to finish up anything he couldn't reach. He informs you that he is going to get some new clothes for you, and to your surprise, his cool lips touch your forehead before he leaves. You gaze up at his form as he's already out the bathroom door, strutting quickly away to find some new clothes without leaving you too long. You finish washing while he's gone, and stand up wearily out of the tub, grabbing a nearby towel to dry off. 

You're all wrapped up in a white towel of his, the tub filled with dirty water, slowly taking it, fand the night that caused it, down the drain. Dave comes back in, surprised you're out, but glad you didn't slip while doing so. 

"I got you an old band shirt of mine, and a pair of my shorts." You smile, taking the shirt and shorts. 

"I love this shirt…" You say, slowly pulling over your head, the towel still shielding you. 

"I know…" Dave says softly as your head pops out of the shirt, your wet hair leaving droplets on the shoulders. You smile and Dave glances away as you slip his shorts on, fitting you nicely enough for the night. You discard the towel and follow Dave towards his bed. 

"Here…" He says, pulling back the covers so you can get in. You do, gladly. Dave slips in behind you, and he immediately puts his arms around your waist, too nervous of you escaping him again. You notice the hunger from earlier is duller, calmed for now. Somehow, Dave's attention to you has helped, and you find as Dave snuggles against your shoulder, your breath slowing. The terrors of tonight are ringing around your ears still, but it's no match for how tired your body is. You drift into a deep sleep, wrapped by Dave Lizewski's arms, something you never thought would happen this way.

Some thing's really must be fate.

[zecretsanta]

To: @goggles-girl From: @juricha-art

Hello there! I ended up doing three out of four prompts, because I just couldn’t pick one!

The first prompt is “Little Akane get little Junpei in the class secret Santa and stresses about what to buy for him”. I saw this, and it just clicked — since she’s thinking about the boy she loves, plus it’s a school setting… then it’s shoujo time! I tried to make this one as cute as possible while still retaining some of that Akane signature edge and uneasiness with some references to the games (as well as another — pretty blatant one — to Spike Chunsoft’s roots). I also had this little story in my mind while working on this, which I’ve included below to accompany the artwork.

The second prompt was “Diana takes Phi to get a cute new winter/Christmas outfit as an attempt at mother-daughter bonding”. I drew them as going out shopping (notice the cat sweater in Diana’s bag). Diana wants to dress Phi in something cute and Phi doesn’t mind — she secretly likes it, and likes to see Diana happy even more. And the dress brings out her eyes so well, too. Diana’s hands are soft and warm on her shoulders. Maybe she really should dress more feminine.

And the third prompt was “Some kind of cute date between Seven and Lotus, preferably in the early days of their relationship, maybe Nona and Ennea catch them at the end of the date and tease Lotus”. This is my first time drawing both Lotus and Seven, and I don’t really like it, but oh well, at least I tried. This is their Christmas date and Nona and Ennea are teasing them with the mistletoe. The couple is a bit flustered (especially Seven), but neither one is opposed to what’s about to come…

I wish you luck, happiness and health in the upcoming year and hope that my art (and writing) will make your holidays a little bit brighter! Happy Holidays! ♥

The quiet backstreets of Tokyo were calm and sleepy during the day, disturbed only by a pinch of snowflakes lazily fluttering about, not really in a hurry to cover the ground up. The only thing that disturbed the lull was a pinkish purple and gray figure the excitedly rushed through the street, long brown hair flowing behind her. Then it was quiet once again.

That figure was Alkane Kurashiki — the schoolgirl, around ten years old. To an outsider, she might appear as a cute, prim and proper, ordinary middle schooler who loves hanging out with her friends after classes. However, she doesn’t have many friends and is more of an outcast at her school. Most of her classmates consider her a weirdo. But she doesn’t really care — what do they even know about her? They don’t know anything of her past. Of her pain. Of her tragedy. So why should she care about them? The only people she cares about deeply are her older brother, Aoi, who takes care of them both since their parents’ passing, and her only friend, Junpei Tenmyouji.

Junee. He’s the only one who doesn’t think her strange. He was the only one who cared enough to sit with her when she was all alone in a class. He laughs with her. He plays with her. He hangs out with her after school. He even tries to protect her from ant bullies that sometime try and pick on her. He’s so brave. So handsome. So kind. He’s, her hero. And today, she did the unthinkable:

She asked him to participate in her class’ Secret Santa event. And he agreed.

And now the girl was at a loss. What to do? She had to get him a present. But what would he like? She’d better check out the local stores for something special.

Brimming with excitement, the pink-and-purple comet dashed through their local shops, but each visit drained her of that gleeful energy. After visiting the last store on her way home, Akane was on the brink of tears. Everything that’s remotely caught her eye was too expensive — at least with the money she had on her right now. But she couldn’t show her despair to anyone — not even to her brother. So she gulped down her tears, ran a careless hand through her disheveled hair and opened their house’ front door.

The house felt lifeless and empty. Now that they were all alone, it felt way too big for the two teens to live in. But they persevered and tried to make up for all the loneliness as best as they could with their own cheer.

Her big brother‘s already returned home. He came to greet her from the kitchen with a rather dismayed look on his face:

"Where’ve you been, Akane? It’s already past four!"

The traitorous tears welled up in the girl’s amethystine eyes.

"I… I’m sorry, Aoi! I just…"

Before she could finish the sentence and bow to hide her tears, they’ve already started to travel down her flushed cheeks. Aoi gently took his sister by the hand and sat her on the couch it ne living room, plopping down beside her.

"So what’s happened, Kanny?" — inquired the boy. "I asked Jumpy to participate in the Secret Santa together, and he agreed…" "Isn’t that a good thing?" "Yes… But I don’t know what to get for him! I went through every shop I knew of… Everything is too expensive! And I don’t wanna get him just any old capsule toy or something: I wanna get something good…" — she sobbed.

An inexplicable expression touched upon Aoi’s face: a mix of joy, sadness and anger that he felt for his younger sibling was too deep to be expressed. He sighed, then went silent for a moment. Noticing Akane’s cautious eyes glancing up on him, the boy pulled his little sister closer in a half-hug and spoke:

"Do you remember that rabbit piggy bank I gave you a few years back? Don’t you have anything saved up in there?"

The young girl’s eyes lit up for a moment, then her expression darkened once more.

"Yeah, I do… But it’s too pretty to break!" — she replied glumly, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. "You don’t have to break it — just pry the coins out with something like a knife. And then you can think of something depending on the amount of money you have."

The girl gasped, hugged her brother, then was gone. She first rushed into the kitchen to get a knife, then ran to her room. Gently cradling the porcelain bunny with pink flower cheeks in one arm, she whispered to it: "Don���t worry, I won’t hurt you. Well, it might tickle a bit, but it wouldn’t hurt you. Promise," — then started to take out the coins with a knife she gripped tightly in the other. The blade glistened in the dusk, shining with the wielder’s thoughts and dreams. The porcelain rabbit looked as if it was a little worried, but still trusting his owner’s words. After about half an hour, the girl had a skirtful of coins which she the poured over onto her desk and started counting. After some more time, she silently rose up, then left her room.

"Aoi… I dunno what can I do with this… It’s more than I have on me, but still not enough…" — the girl did her best to hold back tears. "Well… You did say that you wanted to get him something good, didn’t you? How about you create something yourself? Maybe sew something — like that bunny keychain you made for my birthday? We can also bake cookies or make chocolate, if you want."

This time, the girl’s purple eyes shone not with sadness, but with admiration for her older brother.

"You’re a genius, Aoi! But… you know that I’m not the best at baking…" "Well, no time to learn like the present! Don’t worry, I’ll help you. Let’s go check what we have and you can go get the missing ingredients supplies with that money from your piggy bank. Deal?"

The girl nodded back and into the kitchen they went. Then, after rummaging through her supplies and carefully collecting every single coin, the comet was back in action, hurrying through the front door.

After seeing his sister off, Aoi went into the living room. There, on a small altar framed in black and white, against the center of the wall, stood two photo frames: a man and a woman. The boy kneeled in front of the altar. He stared intensely it the eyes of the two long gone, gripped his white hair — that once, before the tragedy, was darker than Akane’s — until the knuckles on his hands matched the hair. Then he clasped his face. And then he couldn’t hold back any longer.

"Why did you leave us?! — he asked the woman, Kanae Kurashiki. — Father was falsely accused, yes, but you?! Why did you even bring us here if you didn’t care about us at all?! Are you happy seeing us like this?!"

He clenched his teeth, knocking over the frame. Everything went quiet, disrupted only by the teen’s sobs. After a few minutes, conscious that his sister might return at any moment, Aoi gently picked up the frame and placed it back, his fingers lingering for a moment on the frame. Then he got up and went to wash his face as to not alert Akane to his momentary weakness. He was her guardian, after all.

On the appointed day, the usual comet blasted through her way to school, but now with a Santa’s hat on her head. She clutched a red packet close to her chest. She watched Junpei closely as he unwrapped the present he got. Inside, there was a small bag of homemade cookies and chocolates, and a plush doll that was both reminiscent of the hero from Junpei’s favorite role-playing game and of Junpei himself. The flustered boy looked up at his girl friend (who did her best to appear uninterested) and gave her a smile. She blushed and smiled back. In another classroom, Aoi smiled to himself at his little sister’s happiness and success. Everything will be alright.

[urmooniee]

I ♥ YOU - RAFE CAMERON

₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡

PAIRING: fem! x rafe cameron

wc: 1044

tw: CUTENESS!!

taglist

Y/N was cosily snuggled in her warm bed, covered in soft blankets. The soft glow of fairy lights adorned her room, casting a warm and inviting ambience. She held a steaming cup of hot chocolate in her hands, the rich aroma filling the air as she took a sip. Outside, the world was painted in a pristine white, snowflakes gently descending from the dark winter sky.

As Y/N enjoyed her movie, her peaceful evening was suddenly interrupted by a muffled thud against her window. Startled, she turned her attention to the glass pane. Another thud followed, louder this time. Her heart raced, and she cautiously made her way to the window to investigate.

Peering out, she was taken aback when she saw Rafe standing there, a mischievous grin on his face, holding a perfectly round snowball. Y/N opened the window and shivered as a gust of cold air swept into the room.

She looked at Rafe with a mixture of surprise and curiosity, "What are you doing here?"

Rafe's eyes sparkled with amusement in the frosty night. 

"I couldn't resist," he chuckled. "I thought we could have a little winter fun. Snowball fight, maybe?"

Y/N couldn't help but smile, despite the surprise and the chill in the air. Rafe always had a way of bringing excitement into her life. 

"A snowball fight, huh? Well, you're on!" She quickly retreated into her room to put on some warmer clothes, determined to match Rafe's playful spirit.

"Alright, Mr. Sneaky Snowball Attacker, let the games begin!" With that, she gathered some snow and fashioned a snowball, ready to defend herself and retaliate in this impromptu battle.

Rafe's eyes gleamed with enthusiasm as the snowball fight commenced. Laughter filled the wintry night air as they exchanged snowballs, creating a beautiful memory that they would treasure for years to come. Rafe and Y/N decided to make the most of the snowy night. 

Amid their spirited snowball fight, Rafe was determined to land the perfect shot. He gathered a snowball, carefully shaping it into a compact sphere. With a mischievous grin, he took careful aim at Y/N, crouched behind a snowbank, preparing her ammunition.

But as he released the snowball, his aim went slightly awry. Instead of a direct hit on Y/N's snowy fortress, the snowball veered off course and, with a sudden gust of wind, smacked Y/N right in the face.

Y/N blinked in surprise, her face dusted with snow. Rafe's grin turned into a sheepish smile, and he rushed over to her, exclaiming, "Oops, that wasn't supposed to happen! Are you okay?"

Y/N wiped the snow from her face with a grin. "Oh, you're on," she declared, her eyes gleaming with determination. She swiftly gathered a handful of snow and, with a playful vengeance, started pelting Rafe with snowballs.

Rafe, not one to back down, retaliated with a barrage of snowballs. The chase was on. They darted through the snowy landscape, laughter filling the air as they pursued each other.

As they weaved and dodged, Y/N's foot slipped on a patch of ice, and she found herself teetering on the brink of a fall. Desperately, she grabbed onto Rafe's jacket, and they tumbled together into the snow, a jumble of limbs and laughter.

Rafe ended up on top of Y/N, their faces close, and their laughter subsided into a shared, affectionate gaze. With a tender smile, he leaned in for a kiss, and Y/N met him halfway. Their lips met in the midst of the snowy landscape, sealing their playful romp with a sweet moment of connection and warmth

After the snowball fight, they decided to create a snowman. They rolled three snowballs of varying sizes, stacking them to form a jolly snowman with a carrot nose and a crooked smile. It was far from perfect, but it was their snowman, and it made them both laugh.

With their snowman proudly standing guard. Hand in hand, they lay down side by side, moving their arms and legs to create beautiful snow angels in the crisp snow. The pristine white canvas was now adorned with their playful imprints.

With a mischievous grin and a heart full of love, Y/N bent down and delicately wrote a message in the pristine snow beneath her feet. She wrote the words, "I love you, Rafe," with great care.

Turning to Rafe, she nudged him gently, her eyes sparkling. "Look, Rafe," she said, pointing to the message she had written in the snow.

Rafe's eyes locked onto the message, and his heart swelled with affection. He was momentarily speechless, deeply touched by this simple yet profound declaration of love. The moonlight illuminated the message, making it shimmer like a secret shared only between them.

Rafe turned to Y/N, his eyes filled with warmth and emotion. He took her hands in his and said, "Y/N, I love you more than words can express."

As they lay side by side in the snow, their breath visible in the cold air, Rafe turned to Y/N, and with a tender smile, he leaned in for a gentle kiss. 

Rafe raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, you win this round," he admitted, a good-natured grin on his face.

Y/N smiled triumphantly and playfully patted some snow off her jacket. "It's all in good fun, right?" She walked closer to the door, the cold now more noticeable. "You should come inside before you freeze out here."

Rafe nodded, brushing snow off his clothes, hand in hand, they returned to the cosy comfort of y/n's house, entering through the front door. The warm and inviting atmosphere of her room welcomed them, with the soft glow of fairy lights casting a gentle radiance over her room.

They both settled by her bedside, where the movie continued to play, but the real magic of the night was the warmth they felt in each other's company.

The two of them, now nestled together in the comfort of Y/N's room, shared stories and laughter, relishing the warmth and cosiness of the moment. They watched the Christmas movie together, the characters on the screen mirroring their happiness.

As the movie neared its end, Y/N turned to Rafe and smiled. "Thank you Rafe, this has been such a wonderful night," she whispered, her eyes sparkling affectionately.

Rafe nodded, his gaze locked on her. "It truly has been."

Their eyes met, and in that silent, intimate moment, they both leaned in for another kiss.

au/ ive been caught! yup im a hopeless romantic and I actually dislike the snow, but such things make me so happy, one day hopefully that will be me:).

[ice-creamforbreakfast]

List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10 simblrs whose sims you adore ♥♥♥

Thank you so much for the tag 💜! I choose my Crumplebottom Chaos version of Agnes!

Agnes dearly misses her beloved pet bird, Edie Britt, who was eaten by a game glitch...twice. The second time sealed her fate.

She has more artifacts from other countries than the British museum. The Crumplebottom-Frio's are still living off of her last holiday.

Agnes did not in fact deliberately murder Erik. She did however spill sunscreen on the deck of the boat, causing him to slip and fall overboard before she had a chance to clean it up.

She wants a big family. She may take one more holiday to fund the required extension of her mansion if she has one more child.

Agnes once knocked out a mugger with her handbag. Her secret? It was weighed down by her favourite book, Special Snowflake; a book title that aged like milk. The mugger may have been Claire Ursine in a balaclava.

[blue-jisungs]

scarf + younghoon plsplspls ♥︎

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ IDIOTS IN SNOW LOVE 🧸ྀི - wc 315

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! YOUNGHOON YOUNGHOON YOUNGHOON YOUNGHOON YOUNGHOON YOU– *gun shots* sorry its short:(

@kstrucknet ❄️

younghoon was immersed with something on his phone, probably another group chat discussion. you obviously understood that, not even thinking of throwing a fuss about something minor. 

you looked out of the window of the cafe with a small sigh. you still had a lot to do today and– 

a gasp ripped out of your throat and you stood up suddenly. 

“hoonie! it’s snowing!” you grinned and a childish impulse ran through your veins “be right back!” 

younghoon was perplexed, your words being processed in his brian slowly. 

only when he looked up to see you putting your coat on, a red alarm rang in his mind. 

“wait, sweetheart–!” he laughed and grabbed your sleeve, not missing the sparks of joy dancing in your eyes. 

“it’s snowing, hoon!” you repeated, watching him grab his own coat “i just… i wanna go out, for a second. stay here” 

“don’t forget the scarf” he hummed softly and wrapped it around your neck. not too tightly but it covered your nose. it was his, too - so the smell of his cologne lingered in your nostrils. 

just when you were ready to march out, his gloved hand grabbed yours.

“and who do you think i am? the order can wait” younghoon grinned and joined you. 

the air was crisp and cold. younghoon watched you tuck the scarf a bit. 

“it’s so pretty” you sighed dreamily, adoring the white petals swirling in the air. it gradually filled the streets, trees and cars. younghoon wondered if you could get any cuter, with snow in your hair and cheeks becoming rosy from the cold. 

you then stuck your tongue out to catch some of the snowflakes on it. 

you only heard younghoon’s loud laugh. 

“what?” you scoffed, only to realize that he’s copying you. 

perhaps you looked like two idiots out in the snow. but at least you were idiots in love. 

younghoon was immersed with something on his phone, probably another group chat discussion. you obviously understood that, not even thinking of throwing a fuss about something minor. 

you looked out of the window of the cafe with a small sigh. you still had a lot to do today and– 

a gasp ripped out of your throat and you stood up suddenly. 

“hoonie! it’s snowing!” you grinned and a childish impulse ran through your veins “be right back!” 

younghoon was perplexed, your words being processed in his brian slowly. 

only when he looked up to see you putting your coat on, a red alarm rang in his mind. 

“wait, sweetheart–!” he laughed and grabbed your sleeve, not missing the sparks of joy dancing in your eyes. 

“it’s snowing, hoon!” you repeated, watching him grab his own coat “i just… i wanna go out, for a second. stay here” 

“don’t forget the scarf” he hummed softly and wrapped it around your neck. not too tightly but it covered your nose. it was his, too - so the smell of his cologne lingered in your nostrils. 

just when you were ready to march out, his gloved hand grabbed yours.

“and who do you think i am? the order can wait” younghoon grinned and joined you. 

the air was crisp and cold. younghoon watched you tuck the scarf a bit. 

“it’s so pretty” you sighed dreamily, adoring the white petals swirling in the air. it gradually filled the streets, trees and cars. younghoon wondered if you could get any cuter, with snow in your hair and cheeks becoming rosy from the cold. 

you then stuck your tongue out to catch some of the snowflakes on it. 

you only heard younghoon’s loud laugh. 

“what?” you scoffed, only to realize that he’s copying you. 

perhaps you looked like two idiots out in the snow. but at least you were idiots in love. 

m.list <3

taglist. @bbangbies ,, @slytherinshua