#I don't know if I'll actually write this fic

[starry--eye-s]

Yaaaay thank you for taking the time to answer :) I LOVE the "you wanted me to be perfect" too, it's such a powerful moment. It is so good when character escape our control and write on their own :)

I am also praying very hard Tzila will indeed get those laugh wrinkles. Come on she's tough she's a survivor now, she will make it!

It's funny I had a similar discussion with someone else that indeed, despite the death and hardship of Midst, it leaves you full of hope for the future of character who made it, making you want to write in turn :) But alright now on to the new questions !

4) I think my characters sigh a lot XD To be fair, they're going through a lot of stuff, and it's something I do a lot in my life so it bleeds into my stories ^^

18) I have only 1 WIP, because I am restraining myself and forcing myself to finish it before starting a new one. We'll see if it works!

28) So recently my bain expanded on the theory that Phineas could be a fold-baby. Since he's from the delta but has no marking nor mutation, there's a possibility he was actually spawn from a tearror because Jonas was there, terrified adsecla teenager, inthe worst place of the cosmos, desperataly needed someone to love him uncconditionnally. A bit similar to the Fiona/jacob situation. And I was thinking that if during their Sequester/Lazaretto therapy Phineas and Jonas would discover that ¨Phin was brought to existence for Jonas by the fold, that would be quite juicy. Are his feelings for Jonas real? Or are they just tearror-born? Jonas get some extra guilt on top of your already existing one! Anyway ^^ Don't know if I would ever actually write this, but sounded like a few chapter of absolute angst :p

30) Oh boy, you made me dig up my decade-old one piece fanfic from the time I was on fanfiction.net and, uhm... Yes, yes it did, thankfully. The rythm was there, but I was describing non-important stuff too much, and some character really feel flat. I also had a tendency of always trying to make some character say "cool lines" just because I thought it would be cool XD Biggest change has probably been switching to writing in english instead of my motehr tongue though, and hopefully I'll keep at getting better at that too :)

Alright, I'm not done yet :p

@sadmushroomgoblin play with me? You have so many!

Could you do 8 (from wasted potential and from your favorite fic), 10, 19, 31, pretty please?

Fanfic/Author Ask Game

Write a scene from [insert fic] in another character’s POV

Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

What are your top three most commonly used tags on AO3?

What are some words or phrases you feel like you overuse?

What’s something you learned while researching a fic?

Would you ever accept requests or commissions?

Coffee or tea while you write?

What is your favorite line/section from [insert fic]?

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Is there a character or ship you'd love to write for, but haven't yet?

What makes a fic 'successful' in your opinion?

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Do you have an 'official' creative writing background such as a degree or previous experience publishing?

What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?

Does anyone you know in real life know you write fanfiction?

What do you struggle with most when writing?

What is something you recently felt proud of in your writing?

How many WIPs do you have and how many do you expect to finish?

How do you get over writer's block?

Share your favorite kiss scene from [insert fic]. If there's no kiss scene, share your favorite moment of intimacy (romantic or platonic)

What stops you from writing more in your free time?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Which scene/theme was the inspiration for [insert fic]?

Are there any moments in [insert fic] that feel "blurry" to you? Is this a stylistic choice, or would you go back and clarify the descriptions if you were given the chance?

Do you ever "prep" your fics with outlines or warmups before you start writing, or do you just dive right in?

Are any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Have you noticed your style change over time?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

A character you enjoy making suffer.

A character you want to protect.

What is your favorite fic to get comments/messages on?

Wild Card: Ask me something else!

[taeyongdoyoung]

beg for you

summary: missing your ex, you stumble upon an interesting song that brings back memories you thought you could bottle up... pairing: vernon x reader genre: angst, smut, exes to online friends to lovers warnings: mentions of past break-up, reader felt neglected and lonely, insecurities, lowkey catfishing+lie by omission, swearing, song-writing themes, some serious talks, hand-holding, kissing, spitting, eating out, fingering, dom!vernon, orgasm denial, public unprotected sex (in a café bathroom), mainly lots of emotions, idk author's note: the fic was inspired by this iconic song, in particular vernon's verse and it has some occasional references to the lyrics in bold word count: 2.6k

It's been three months since you ended things with Vernon, blocked his number and all his socials and tried your best to forget about him. The reason for your break-up was mainly because you felt like he never had time for you, his music always came first and while that was appealing at the start of your relationship, it began to infuriate you and make you feel invisible towards its end. He would stand you up and forget about your dates more than once. He would make you feel like you were always his second choice. Not being around him hurts like hell, because you'd become so used to his presence that the lack of it brings so much emptiness. And also because a part of you still loves him.

One evening, you can't fall asleep so you're scrolling through some music apps. Suddenly you discover a new song. The artist hides their face behind a mask but their voice sounds somewhat familiar. Strangely enough, the lyrics just speak to you:

I don't think I'll ever feel this type of way again (This way again; Yеah, uh, yeah) I beg for you, please (Don't let go), don't let go of me, don't let go of me All the endless conversations about us been going on in our head In the night, we dream a future together and I feel bad in your bed I beg for you, please stay, I can't go a day without No, I can't go a day without you, hoo

So weird. It's like the artist knows exactly what's been on your mind for the past three months. You shut your phone off with a sigh and attempt to get some sleep. The next day, that same melody and those words haunt you. And the following day…It goes on for a while and you've become so obsessed with it that you try to do some research on the artist. Unfortunately, it's not of much help. Nobody knows the identity of the artist, how they look or their real name. It's frustrating but it is what it is. Maybe you should drop it. But then again…you really can't stop thinking about these fucking lyrics and how well they described how you've been feeling.

You decide to do something stupid and slide into the DMs of the anonymous artist. They'll probably never see this message as they have thousands of followers, but still, you need to get this off your chest somehow.

You: Hi, you probably get this a lot but your lyrics are really relatable, like they truly spoke to me and totally represent the way I've been feeling for the past three months. You're incredibly talented and I'd be happy to hear more of your music in the future.

It's a short message, nothing too crazy. You feel a sense of relief once you've sent it. You realize it doesn't matter if the artist ever sees it. You're just happy you were able to express your feelings.

To your immense shock, about 30 minutes later, you receive a notification. This is actually so insane you can't believe your eyes. The anonymous artist…texted you back?!

RevN98: Hi, this really means a lot to me. Actually, I don't get a lot of feedback, as I'm just starting out. I'll try my best to write more music. In what ways did you relate to the lyrics?

Is he seriously…initiating a discussion? It is wild enough he texted you back but the fact he wants to continue texting baffles you. But you are not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth. So, you respond rightaway.

You: I got out of a long-term relationship a couple of months ago and even though I should probably move on already, some part of me wishes my ex begged for me to stay. I know it's probably a selfish thought, considering I'm the one who broke up with the guy, but…I miss him sometimes and I keep thinking of a universe in which he'd fought for me.

After sending that message, you look at it in horror as you realize how personal it was. Why is it so easy to open up to a complete stranger? And not to people who actually know you…

You: Sorry, that was probably a whole bunch of TMI. Anyways, I really thought your lyrics were connected to how I was feeling if that makes sense.

You double text just in case. The response from the mysterious artist comes soon after.

RevN98: It makes sense, yeah. When I was writing them, I was also thinking about my past relationship. Honestly, I kind of wish I'd begged my ex to stay. I thought that by not doing so, I was respecting her wishes and giving her space. But now that it's been a while, I can't help but think I should have expressed myself better. I really miss her, though, so I guess that got reflected in the lyrics somehow.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts and figure out what to text.

You: Aw, man. Whoever your ex is, she's lucky to have such lyrics written about her. Even if it's over, maybe there's a way she finds your music and…I don't know, reconsiders things?

RevN98: Hah, that'd be a dream come true. I don't think she likes the kind of music I make.

You: Why not? Your music is great!

RevN98: Well, the truth is I was spending more time on my music than time with her. So, I guess that's one of the reasons for our break-up.

My God. This feels…too similar to your situation it gives you goosebumps. Despite that, it's like your fingers are possessed as they keep itching to text the anonymous artist back.

You: Time changes the way people feel. Maybe if you're honest with her and how you're feeling, there's a chance for a reconciliation. Or at least some closer. You should call her!

RevN98: I'd love that but she's blocked my number.

You: Use a friend's phone, duh!

RevN98: That'd be suspicious, considering I haven't told any of my friends about our break-up.

You: Dang…you're really not over this girl, huh?

RevN98: Not a chance.

You: So…what are you going to do?

RevN98: I don't know, for the time being texting you helps to ease the pain.

You: Likewise. But just to give you a heads-up, I'm not interested in any rebound relationship.

RevN98: Great. I'm not interested in that, either.

You: So…online buddies, then?

RevN98: Sounds good to me.

It is so strange how quickly the mysterious artist becomes part of your everyday life. You text each other quite often about anything. From what you've had for breakfast to what other music you've been listening to. From where you're planning to go with your friends to…how much you miss your exes. It is truly extraordinarily easy to talk to them. You still don't know much. How they look, what their real name is, where they live…But somehow it's enough knowing they're out there making awesome and relatable music.

Until one day it isn't.

You: We should meet up!

RevN98: I don't think that is a good idea…My schedule's crazy lately.

You: What do you mean? It's not like you have live performances.

You point out the obvious because from what you've gathered, maintaining this anonymity is key to RevN98.

RevN98: I just don't feel comfortable meeting in person…

You: Are you worried I'd expose your identity? You know I'm not that kind of person, right?

RevN98: I'm not worried about that. It's hard to explain. It would make sense if we met up, which is exactly why we can't meet up.

You: I'm super confused right now. But you know how important honesty is to me. So, it's now or never, I guess. If you don't want to meet up in the near future, I don't think I want to continue being friends…

You wait a couple of minutes, to give them a chance to make a decision. Finally, the response comes.

RevN98: Okay, let's meet up.

They text you a time and place. And then you ask the crucial question.

You: How will I know it's you?

RevN98: Trust me, you'll know.

This is…so cryptic. You guess you'll just have to rely on the fact that there are a bunch of photos of you on your profile, so the musician would be able to recognize you first.

When you arrive at the small café, you look around nervously, waiting. Negative thoughts keep haunting your mind. What if they change their mind in the last minute and stand you up? What if they are disappointed upon meeting you and never want to text you again? What if you were too harsh by giving an ultimatum? What if-

So many scenarios and you failed to consider the one that truly matters.

What if…you run into your ex at said café? What are the fucking odds?!

"What are you doing here?" you ask Vernon, sounding a bit too rude. Better to be rude than to burst into tears or something more embarrassing.

"Waiting for you," Vernon replies simply.

"What are you talking about?" you blink in confusion. Until it clicks…No. Freaking. Way.

Vernon sighs and takes his phone out, showing you the texts between you and RevN98. And the only explanation is…fucking hell. He is RevN98.

"Please, tell me you're joking right now."

"I wish I was," Vernon looks down, feeling guilty.

"How could you do this to me?" you inquire, eyes welling up already. You feel so weak upon seeing him.

"What was I supposed to do? You had me blocked on everything."

"What, and writing me a song under a false name sounded like the greatest idea?" you snap at him.

"I just needed to talk to you again. Somehow."

"Why? What is there to say?"

"I miss you," Vernon murmurs.

"You lied to me," you insist stubbornly.

"Please come back to me," he keeps trying.

"It's too late…" you try to reject him gently.

"I'm begging you," Vernon really wants a second chance.

You shake your head, but your hands are already reaching for his. Desperate to hold them one more time, you lean closer.

"I'm not taking you back," you keep fighting it.

"Okay," he nods.

"We're just…gonna talk, yeah? Seems a waste of my great outfit to go back home."

"Okay," Vernon repeatss.

As the two of you sit down to have a chat, suddenly all of the unsaid words and undelivered messages bubble up to the surface.

"I should have fought for you. I mean it. Music is important to me but not as much as you. You are my muse, how could I go another day without you?"

"It seems you've been doing a great job writing music without me," you say bitterly.

"Oh, yeah?" Vernon raises his eyebrows cockily. "Well, I bet I can write even better if you're back in my life."

"I was too harsh," you admit. "I let my overthinking and insecurities get the worst of me. When I broke up with you, it seems I had forgotten how much I love music, too. I was so caught up in my own dark thoughts that I didn't matter to you that things escalated."

"You had a point," Vernon chuckles sadly. "I wasn't giving you the attention you needed. The attention you deserve. I was being selfish."

"I was selfish, too," you confess. "I shouldn't have made you feel like you needed to make a choice between me and music."

"I would pick you. For the record."

"Record is exactly what you'll be making," you tease him. "I'm serious. I need to hear more of what you've been working on."

"I'd love to show you. But there's something else I'd like to do first," Vernon smirks mischievously.

He grabs your hand and takes you to the café's bathroom. He pushes you inside a free booth and locks the door behind him. He kisses you under the bathroom lights eagerly, not wanting to let go ever again.

"Hey!" you chide him playfully. "I said I wasn't taking you back."

"Too bad. 'Cause I'm taking you," Vernon says assertively.

"You…you've changed," you blink in surprise.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Vernon smiles and his palms dig into your lower back deliciously, as he kisses you again. "God, I missed this taste."

"You're insane," you laugh but you can't find it in you to deny it any longer. You want him so bad.

"Don't let go of me," he repeats the song's lyrics in your ear.

"I won't. As long as you promise the same," you ask.

Vernon doesn't say a word as he kneels in front of you. He picks up one of your legs and swings it over his shoulder as pulls your panties to the side. Suddenly, you're so grateful for your genius decision to wear a dress. He spits on your pussy and attacks your folds with his skilled tongue. You're already losing your mind over how good it feels, when suddenly, he pulls back.

You gasp in disappointment as your pleasure was so abruptly interrupted.

"Beg me," Vernon commands you easily. "Beg me to make you come."

"You're fucking insane," you refuse. You've always had a little bit of a brat in you.

Vernon, however, doesn't seem perturbed by your refusal to cooperate and sticks one finger inside you, teasing you slow enough to frustrate you but not fast enough to get you there. It hurts so sweetly you both hate and love it.

"Beg me," he repeats.

It would be so easy to do that. Just to get that sweet release…But the stubborn part of you is still stronger than the part of you that wants to come.

''Try harder," you grin cruelly.

Vernon is not one to back down from a challenge and unleashes his final weapon. He takes off his jeans and slides his hard cock inside you. Fuck. You'd forgotten how girthy he is.

"I missed you so much," he whispers in your ear. And his genuine words affect you more than his actions. And oh, how terribly you've missed him, too.

You hold on to the back of his neck, needing him for support. He keeps tormenting you, not moving a lot, just making you feel so full but so dissatisfied at the same time. You truly can't take it anymore.

"P-please, let me c-come," you beg for him hopelessly.

"There's my good girl," Vernon smiles proudly and adjusts his movements, adding pressure with his fingers so that you come in mere seconds.

"T-thank you, thank you," you chant, not knowing what demon possessed you to act this way.

"So polite," he laughs adorably and holds you close as he reaches his own high.

You don't want to let go of him ever again. But you're gonna have to, because you hear angry people who want to use the bathroom. Uh-oh.

You quickly try to clean each other up and rush outside, cheeks red with embarrassment.

You get a few weird looks from random people, but honestly, it doesn't matter. This felt too good.

"Sooo…" Vernon says once you've arrived at his chill but cozy apartment. "Does this mean you'll take me back?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Beg me nicely?" you suggest teasingly.

"Oh, you know I will," Vernon promises.

Bonus:

"Veeern, it's been hours, didn't you finish the song already?" you complain, desperate for his attention.

"Just five-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," you warn him, though you don't really mean it. You're just playing around. You know he cares about you deeply. Perhaps more deeply that he lets on.

"Won't you wait another hour or two?" Vernon teases you back.

"You know what? I'd wait as long as it takes," you smile and put your lips on his lips.

The End

[bloodybreakupscene]

-> 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓.

joaquin torres x reader

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ [desc.] :: a short drabble between you and joaquin, from when you first met, to how it's going.

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ [a/n] :: HEEEYYYY it's me after... checks clock... two years?? finally got into writing again soooo expect marvel fics... who's excited for the new daredevil show... and that new spidey show is good too ALSO MARVEL RIVALS–

you slave away on your computer, dragging and dropping files, typing them up, doing whatever with them! god, you didn't think a government job would have you doing so much boring tedious work. you scroll and scroll onwards and it's a wonder your finger hasn't fallen off yet. ‘i guess i can't see president ross doing any of this stuff.’ you comment to yourself.

joaquin looks at you, well, it lingers– okay he's staring. he always does, he can't help it! ever since you started working here he can't stop. he walks by your office everyday since it's on his way to where he usually works. he's talked to you a couple times, did the thing where you nod to each other to acknowledge the other's presence. you even say good morning! that means you guys are like.. close right? at least work friends.

“so.. i went on a mission, couple days ago. pretty good, beat up a couple guys.” he blurts out, body leaning on your doorway, causing you to looking away from your own computer.

“oh really?”

“yeah.” he brags, “you should've been there, even sam was impressed.”

“i would've liked to, during work i don't look anywhere other than this damn computer,” you laugh.”

“y'know maybe, maybe we could–”

“joaquin, need you out front.” sam wilson calls from his comms, the voice of captain america sounding through the speakers.

“i think he needs you.” you smile at him, he smiles back but he's disappointed again, he wanted to ask you out! for coffee or whatever government coworkers do!

joaquin complains to sam about this later, talking about how he ruined his chances and how he needs to “hop off and let him soar” whatever the hell that meant, sam would've gotten on his case if he didn't scurry away as soon as they arrived back at base. running straight towards your working grounds.

he chills out before walking in the room. checking his hair, face, etc, etc. as he's fixing his uniform, you tap on his shoulder, eliciting a jolt from him.

“hey, whatcha’ waiting for?” you ask wondering why he was looking at his reflection in his blacked out phone screen, seemingly about to walk into your room with no one in it.

“oh, y'know, was waiting for you actually, about earlier i was gonna ask you… if you…” he nervously taps his sides with his hands, chuckling a bit; it's not like… not like he liked you! he just likes looking at you, yeah.. that seemed right. definitely.

“if i..?” you question, voice laced with confusion, but you had an idea of what he was attempting to ask.

“if like, you know, wanna go out with me, do whatever, i like going to the gym, if you couldn't tell.” he holds up his arms, muscles prominent but not bulging.

you can't help but stiffle a giggle, whether it was because of his– albeit– childish attempt at impressing you or because of his overall cuteness is up to debate.

“sure, why not, i'll be off at five…ish? later. we can go get dinner or something.”

“yeah! yeah of course, ill stop by later then, count on it.” he winks, as you walk back into your room. when you closed the door he nearly skipped his way back to his own work base.

after this moment you two became surprisingly close, he wasn't the awkward overcompensater from when you first met. he was genuinely funny, and charming too! wow, what a package deal, you think.

–

days passed and the situation with the former president is finally over. you're unsettled with it all and you're on your way to joaquin's hospital room. you're upset he got dragged in so far but you did know it was a part of his job, still it made you soured your mood.

“hey joaquin.. how you doing today?” you walk in, sitting by his bed.

“better, thanks.. for being here.” he tries sitting up, groaning in the process.

“don't, you're gonna hurt yourself more.” your hand falls onto his, almost like natural instinct.

“sorry we haven't.. been able to go out lately. didn't think i'd get shot down from the sky.” he laughs, but with only a hint of humor in his actual tone.

you stare at him for a second, looking at his eyes, examining the damage. “you.. no. don't apologize, you'll get better. i know it.”

“can't wait to get outta here, we should get ice cream. i need something sweet or i might die.”

“hmm, to be fair you did almost die.” you lay your head on your hand, leaning closer to him.

“you're right, so that means we gotta go.” he glances at you, noticing your drowsy reddish eyes.

“mhm. m’ tired. didn't sleep last night.”

“why not?” he looks at you concerned.

“worried about you, haha..” you lean off of your hand, head landing on his lap. he watches as you slowly drift to sleep, still holding his hand, fingers interlocked.

his face is slowly fades into a pink color, and he holds your hand tighter, he falls asleep in this state as well, not wanting anything to ruin this moment between the two of you.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Wow this was such a surprise! I had no idea you were reading this today LMAO 🔮😉

God YES. This is the same idea I've explored in my sequel fics to ESC. It's the idea of wanting more time with a man who by necessity of his job, has to pop in and out of your life. As endearing as Russell is, that would be such a difficult obstacle to overcome in a new relationship.

Exactly! I think that it would be frustrating and a little bit sad to be in a long distance relationship especially with Russell, because he has a dangerous job and there are parts of it that he'd probably want to keep from you. I don't want to think that you couldn't rely on Russell, but I think there would be a little bit of disappointment when he couldn't make it back to you because there were complications or him having to leave suddenly for an emergency. It's funny because it kinda reminds me of how it would be to date Dean if you weren't a hunter and he was. I still need to read Every Second Counts! I'm going to add that to my tbr, which is getting longer every day 😅

Ugh I'm so glad she's got a man in her life that actually loves her and considers her the way she deserves. And if you ever write more of these two I would love to see this exploration of how Russell helps her feel beautiful and appreciated again. 💕

I know! This reader really deserves it, especially from what we all saw with her ex-husband 😒 But I really do want to make a series with these two because it would be really wonderful to show how Russell treats her so differently than any other man she's had in her life and does make her feel "beautiful and appreciated again." I feel like it would also kinda be like what you did with the reader in Midnight Espresso 💗

*snorts* yeah, like a mule, I'd imagine. 😆 But there's something so endearing about Russ wanting and insisting on fixing things around the house for her. Though of course I sympathize with her side of things. She just wants a nice healthy piece of her man. The showerhead can wait! 😏

I am obsessed with fix-it Russell! Imagining him getting his large hands dirty for me, working around the house WHEW🥵! And I can imagine him thinking of all the things this reader does at work and for her kids and him just wanting to make her life easier for when he's not there 🥹 But oh yeah, no, she likes when he fixes things but she really missed him (I would too tbh).

Oh how I cackled! 😝 She's playing dirty and I love it lmao! Girl get him!

She knows just how to work her man 😉 She will go to any level to get what she wants 👀 I don't judge her for that because it's what we all want lol.

💀💀 Get himmmmm!

Man does not know what hit him 😂

LMFAO. Okay, Russ took me out with that one. The audacity. 🤣🤣 Side note: but I love the word "salacious," especially because it fits so well with most Jackles characters. lol

It's a little bit of payback for her making him all hot and bothered 🤣 And oh yeah, I was really proud of that descriptor because we all know Ben or Dean would be throwing around some "salacious" winks 😉

Omg yay he's moving in!! That's a big step and I love that for them.

Yes! It's another step in the right direction to give Russell a more permanent place in her life and her in his! 🤗 Plus I like to think that she's the kind of person that would hate that Russell is more nomadic, doesn't have a place to call home, and that he doesn't eat a home cooked meal.

Girl Yessss - I love the body positivity in this storyverse so damn much. Thank you for continuing this giving me more Russell goodness, I really enjoy how you write him! 💜

Aww thank you so much my lovely friend 🤗 I'm so happy you enjoyed it! I really love this reader and Russell and I'm hoping that I'll get to write out more of their story and build their relationship more between this fic and Long As I Can See the Light soon! ❤️

It's Not A Wet T-Shirt Contest

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt: “Is that supposed to be leaking?”

Requested by: @luci-in-trenchcoats

Summary:  When your boyfriend comes into town to surprise you one weekend, you thought that you’d spend it together, turns out he has other plans. Reader is a single mom and is the niece of Teddi and Velma. Reader is described as curvy. (Technically takes place in my Long As I Can See The Light Universe, but can be read as a stand-alone.)

Tropes: Established Relationship

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because I made it more spicy than I meant it to, References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Cursing, Kissing, Idiots who love each other lots. I think that's everything?

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n if any. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Tracker Masterlist

A/N: Alright, y'all this is my first fic written for my prompt celebration requested by the wonderful @luci-in-trenchcoats 😊 ENJOY!

You took another long sip of coffee from your favorite hand-painted "World's Best Mom Mug" and tried to block out the symphony of the colorful curse words and banging coming from your upstairs master bathroom.

When your boyfriend showed up this morning out of the blue to surprise you, this was not what you expected to be doing. Well, his appearance was a surprise to you, but you had a sneaking suspicion that your Aunt Teddi and her wife Velma had gotten a heads up that Russell was coming. They'd shown up about an hour before Russell had to take your son and daughter for a movie and a sleepover at their house.

But the bigger surprise was your current dilemma.

You'd expected to be tangled up with Russell in bed for hours trying to convince him to never leave you again, not be waiting downstairs while he tried to install a new shower head in your master bathroom.

You only blamed yourself.

You'd let it slip that the water pressure wasn't quite right and something that you'd thought would take a plumber twenty minutes had turned into an all day affair for Russell. 

Instead of taking you to bed, Russell had dragged you out to his car and to the nearest hardware store where he let you pick out a new shower head and where he got supplies, all the while you told him that he didn't need to, and Russell only kissed away the frown on your lips leaving you wanting more.

You always wanted more.

Russell and you had been together for five and a half months, and each time he left you found yourself wanting more. 

More of him and more time.

It was frustrating to be with a man who had a job that would pull him out of your arms as quickly as he’d appeared and leave your bed cold once more. 

It had been cold before and you didn’t want to go back to that. Didn’t want to be reminded of the cold bed over the final years of your marriage when your husband’s favorite phrases echoed through your bedroom after you put your children to bed:

“I’m tired” and “Not tonight baby, I have to work.”

Those last few years of your marriage were frustrating and did little to boost your self-esteem. Especially when your husband made you think you were annoying him and made you feel stupid for wanting more. 

With Russell there was no such thing.

When the two of you started dating and Russell realized exactly what your husband had done to you, he'd spent every waking moment making you feel more beautiful than you ever had. He listened to you, understood you, and did more for you than your husband had done in all the years that you'd been married.

But each time he left, Russell always took a little bit of yourself with him. You didn't sleep well when he was gone doing God knows what, God knows where, only that when he finally called or showed up to tell you he was okay, you didn't let go of him for hours.

There's another loud bang followed by a string of curses that make you sigh into your mug.

For fucks sake, that stupid showerhead is getting more action than I am.

You loved your boyfriend to bits, but you hated how stubborn he was sometimes.

You straighten up from where you lounged against the countertop in your kitchen, taking one more sip of coffee, before you make the trek through your living room and up the stairs towards your bedroom. 

This wasn't the first time that Russell fixed something in your home. He liked it when you made him a list of things to do when he visited, things like cleaning the gutters, nailing down the front step that always caught underfoot, mowing the lawn, etc. Things that Russell wanted to do for you because he knew how busy you got at work and with your children.

It made you love him more, because you’d never met someone so selfless before. 

When you enter the bathroom, Russell is standing in your shower, just inside the large glass double doors, soaking wet, and holding a wrench.

His usual easy smile has slipped into a frustrated frown while he stares at the bright silver shower head hanging on the wall. 

“I see things are going well.” You snort out a laugh, admiring the scene before you. 

Russell’s dark hair drips forward in lazy strands against his cheeks, his t-shirt clings to his chest like a second skin, catching in the dips and curves of your boyfriend’s muscular torso, and his usual blue jeans are stained a dark navy. The edge of his t-shirt pulls up from the top of his jeans with the stretch of his arms, giving you a view of the delicious stripe of skin just below his belly button.

For the love of french toast, the guy could win a wet t-shirt contest without batting one of those ridiculously perfect eyelashes of his.

At this point you were still trying to figure out how the hell you landed this man and why the hell he kept coming back for more of you.

“Smooth as silk.” Russell gives you a lazy smile that makes you feel like butter on a pile of buttermilk biscuits. “I just finished.”

 “Really?” 

“Mhmm.”

“Huh.” You take a step closer to admire his handiwork, so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath ghost along the side of your face, making goosebumps trail over your skin. All it does is remind you of what the two of you could be doing instead of standing inside of your walk-in shower fully clothed and the things the two of you had done in this very shower the last time he was in town.  

"Is that supposed to be leaking?" You ask, pointing to the place where the plate of the shower head fastens to the wall and where there is a trickle of water dancing down the white subway tile backsplash.

"Oh shit." Russell sighs, his shoulders drooping when he notices the stream. “I can fix that."

You note his sheepish smile. “Rus, please let me call a plumber. You’ve been up here for two hours!” 

“No way! They overcharge you and it’s what I’m here for!” He argues.

Maybe I should try a different approach.

“Rus.” You say sweetly, putting both of your hands on his stomach. Russell’s familiar green eyes flick to your hands as you begin to move them up the wet t-shirt. “When you showed up today I thought we’d be doing something a little different with our time.” 

Russell swallows. “Baby-”

“And the longer you stay in here-” You breathe taking a step forward as you continue to move your hands up, tracing the hardened muscles beneath your palms. “The less time we have together.” You gently press a kiss to the space where his shirt meets the base of his neck and you can feel the bob of his throat as he swallows again. 

“I-” He tries again, but you feel his hands come down to the curve of your hips to ground himself there. 

“Don’t you want to spend time with me?” You murmur into his skin, pressing your chest against his as your hands work up to the back of his neck. The water from his clothes soaks into yours, but you’re not cold. 

“You’re fighting dirty.” He half groans, but you don’t feel bad. Judging by the way his hands have begun to squeeze your hips and pull you tighter against him, Russell was enjoying this as much as you were. 

“But it always works.” You purr against his throat with a smirk. 

“Fuck, baby I-“ 

“Yeah?” 

Your smirk grows the more you tease him. By now you could feel your own heartbeat thudding in your chest calling out to his and despite how cold Russell’s wet clothes are, heat was dancing along your skin. 

“I really want-“ There’s a grit along Russell’s voice, as if he’s trying to hold on to some shred of self-control.

You loved that you were able to do this to him, it made you feel powerful and sexy. Two things that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Hmm?” You moan softly, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck while your lips continue their path along his skin.

He groans. “I really want to do this for you, but you’re making it kinda hard-“ 

“Really?” You mutter nipping along his jaw. “That’s what I’m making hard?”

Russell pulls back from you, holding your wrists in his large hands. But he looks far from angry. His green eyes flash a darkened pine, and dance with mischief. “Baby, trust me. There is nothing more that I want to do than show you how much I missed you.” 

“Then why-" You begin to say.

“Because I know that the second I do that, we’re not going to do anything else the rest of the time I’m here. And I want to do this for you.” Russell’s eyes shift a little lighter. He releases your wrists and cups your cheek with his large hand. You can see the love you have for Russell reflected back at you in his gaze

You sigh again a little disappointed. Today really wasn’t going the way you wanted it to.  “But I missed you.” 

“I could tell.” He smirks. “Maybe your shower head would last a little longer if you didn't wear it out." Russell sends you a salacious wink that makes you blush bright red.

“Shut up!” You slap him on the shoulder, cheeks flaming. 

Russell only smirks wider at you. “You know… I’ve got a solution for that.”

“Oh do you?” You ask innocently. 

Finally, we’re getting somewhere.

Russell hesitates, his hand still stroking your cheek softly. "I could move in."

It was the last thing that you were expecting him to say.

“See I've been thinking about this for a bit." Russell  clears his throat. “I know you can’t move because of the kids but... I want to be here in your life. I hate leaving you and each time I get done with a job I always find myself driving back to you. I don't want to be anywhere else.”

Your mouth is still open in shock, eyes wide. You couldn’t find the ability to speak.

In the months that followed your divorce you’d been on a couple of dates before you met Russell, where the mere mention of your kids sent your dates scuttling into the shadows or back to whatever swamp they crawled out of, but here, standing in front of you was a man who didn’t just want you, he wanted you, and he wanted your children. 

It was a combination that you thought you’d never find, and then you’d met Russell. A man who not only loved you, he made you feel beautiful, alive, happy, and seen in a way that you hadn’t been in years. 

Not to mention that both of your children absolutely loved Russell, and he did a good job of scaring off your skeevy ex who refused to come around whenever Russell was in town because the last time Russell had broken his nose and threatened other bodily harm.

Russell’s soft smile drops a little the longer you remain silent. “But if you think that’s a bad idea or if you think it’s too fast-”

You pull him down to you for the searing kiss that you’d wanted all day long, feeling the drag of his beard against your soft skin, and the warm pillow of his lips moving in tandem with yours. 

His hands run along the curves of your body, trailing fire in their wake, the same curves that you’d hidden under long cardigans and oversized clothes, the ones that you cursed each time you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. But not since you’d met Russell. 

Not when he’d taught you that each blemish or curve you once cursed was something that could make him lose his last shred of self control and in turn, make Russell lose himself in everything you were. 

“It’s not too fast! I hate when you leave. I hate waking up in my bed each morning and not having you there holding me. ” You breathe before you kiss him again, soaking in everything that is Russell as you do. The roughness of his hands pushing up the shirt hung low on your hips, the smell of mint and gunmetal, the taste of the coffee he had this morning, and gentle drag of his wet hair against your cheeks that dip between the two of your faces when you kiss. “I want you here with me all the time.”

“Then I’ll stay.” Russell smiles so wide you can feel the click of his teeth against yours when he pulls you back in for a kiss. 

“Wait.” You smirk, leaning your forehead against his, your hands gently cupping his bearded cheeks. "If I say yes, I have one condition."

"Anything."

"Please let me call a plumber."

Russell rolls his eyes at you, but squeezes you tighter against him, green eyes flashing with mischief. “Not a chance baby.”

A/N: It was so fun to write this prompt and also to come back to these two! Thank you so much @luci-in-trenchcoats for requesting this one 🥰 If anyone else would like to ask me a prompt for my prompt celebration, here is the post:

Prompt Celebration

As always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, comments, and likes are not required, but are always appreciated 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @louisanalady

@yvonneeeee

[whoredyceps]

“Another word and I'll make you regret it.”

» you've tried everything to get a coworker to stop asking you out. not even human resources can help you. your only hope is din, who offers to play the role of a less-than-savory ex-boyfriend to get the guy off your back. will the punk tactics work?

» pairing: modern!din djarin x reader

» tags: creepy ass coworker, bouncer!din djarin, nondescript f!reader (brief use of she/her pronouns), threats of violence, vulgar language, no beta - we die like men

» author's note: i've been itching to write a modern!din fic and now that i have some level of creativity capacity back, it's over for y'all. i started writing this in a fever last night and haven't stopped.

"It's horrible. He just— he gives me the creeps!" You frowned as you leaned both your arms on the counter. Across from the kitchen bar, Din was at the stove. He nodded as he listened, his attention on both you and the risotto he was cooking.

"Why don't you go to Human Resources? Isn't that what they're there to help with?" Din glanced at you over his shoulder.

"I did! He hasn't actually done anything legally creepy, so there's only so much that can be done. It's like," you huffed as you got wound up again. "There's no reason the man should be passing my office, but he makes it a point to stop by my desk. Plus, he does this weird hand thing."

You hopped down from the kitchen stool to stand beside Din. He looked away from the risotto, just in time for you to grab his hand and hold it up.

"Pretend you're me," you explained. You proceeded to high five him, then wrap your thumb around the back of his hand. In short, you two were holding hands in the middle of his kitchen.

"So he just holds your hand under the guise of a high five?" Din raised an eyebrow. You nodded quickly, an exasperated expression on your face.

"Exactly! I feel like I'm going crazy, Din. Maybe he's just trying to be friendly in his own friendly way but..." You trailed off and pulled your hand away, your arms crossed over your chest.

"But what?" Din lowered the heat on the stove before he fully turned towards you.

For a man who looked like he had won every fight he had been in, you had only seen a softer side of him. Of course you had seen him angry here and there, but he was always friendly with you.

Two of you lived down the hall from each other. With the layout of the building, it was just the two of you on the floor. Din moved in almost a year ago, and you were thankful to finally have a normal neighbor. Over the time he's lived here, the two of you had become good friends.

"Can I be honest with you?" You leaned your hip against the marble countertop.

"Of course," Din assured you. He gave you his full, undivided attention.

"He scares me. Look, I know I'm not in any danger or have to worry that something will happen, but there's just something about him that makes me feel uneasy. I don't care that he wants to be my friend or wants to be pleasant. All I want is to go to work, do my job, then leave. I don't want to be his friend, or his anything." You didn't quite meet Din's eye as you spoke. It was something you hadn't been able to verbalize to anyone, at least not as well articulated.

"Have you talked to him about it?" Din asked. He was always one to be the voice of reason for you. While it was the logical step, he noticed the way you practically curled in on yourself. That wasn't like you at all.

"What if it's all in my head? Maybe I'm just reading into it, and I don't wanna stir up something just because I'm too in my own thoughts," you explained. "You know, maybe I am just—"

"Don't," Din cut you off. "If he gives you the creeps, that's reason enough."

You sighed and nodded. He was right, as he usually was. You watched him finish with the risotto while you grabbed two plates from the cabinet. The two of you worked in silence as you plated dinner and sat at the dining table.

"What if you told him you had a boyfriend? Doesn't that usually work?" Din broke the silence as he popped open a bottle of wine. You nodded, a small pout on your face as you held you glass to him.

"I had a bad morning and he kept pestering me about what was wrong, so I told him I had a crazy ex-boyfriend who came to my place the night before." You glanced out the window that the table was sat next to. It was small, made only for two people. Din wasn't one for company, so your presence always felt special.

"Was it actually a crazy ex-boyfriend?" Din asked. He watched you as you shook your head.

"Not even close. At least not any that live around here. I just had a shit night, but I didn't want to get into it."

You took a bite of the risotto, and your eyes fluttered closed. It tasted perfect. How Din was such a good cook, you weren't so sure. His meals were better than anything you'd had in a restaurant.

There was so much you both did and didn't know about him. He worked as a bouncer at a bar a few blocks down the road, and he slept most days. He had a cat named Grogu, but you just called him the Child. His apartment was clean and tidy while still full of bits and pieces of his life all over.

From what you had gathered, Din had traveled for most of his life and had many trades under his belt. Though he promised early on, when he first moved in, that he was here to stay. He was settled, and he wasn't moving again.

Not that you were complaining.

"Do you need a crazy ex-boyfriend?" Din asked. Your eyes popped open, and you raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? I mean, no. I'd rather not deal with two creeps at once." You looked at him like he had grown a second head. So much for your voice of reason.

Din rolled his eyes and shook his head. He put his fork down, his dinner temporarily abandoned.

"No. Let me rephrase that. I'll come in to your job and scare him off," Din explained. "All he needs is the evidence, right?"

You mulled it over in your mind. As you did, you looked at the man in front of you. At first glance, he did have an aura that would best be described as 'rough around the edges'. Hell, he made you a bit nervous at first. Though it didn't take long for him to show that he was a softie behind closed doors. Doors you were lucky enough to find yourself behind.

"You'd do that for me?" You asked, a soft smile on your lips. Your heart squeezed when he gave a slight smile back.

"Of course. Anything for you to feel safe. That's all that matters to me." Din went back to his dinner, fork in hand as he looked down at his plate.

You felt your cheeks warm as you began to eat again. There was hope yet that you wouldn't have to run your coworker over.

Before you left Din's apartment, the two of you had come up with a plan. You would ask the guy to go with you to get lunch down the block, and Din would be waiting there for you. He'd look at tough and mean, and just give the guy a good spook.

"What if he keeps being weird?" You asked as the two of you stood in the doorway of his apartment. Din was leaned against the frame, his thick arms crossed over his chest. You wondered if he'd ditch the long sleeve to show his tattoos tomorrow.

"Leave that to me. If he's got two braincells to rub together, he'll leave you alone. The first sign of trouble after and you call me." That wasn't a request, and you were well aware of that.

"You got it. Din?" You held his arm as you kissed his cheek. "Thanks again for helping. I knew I could come to you." As you pulled away, you noticed how red the shells of Din's ears were.

"Anything for you. Be careful heading home." You rolled your eyes as he smirked. He said it every time you walked down the hall to your front door.

"Maybe that joke will be funny one day. Odds aren't in your favor today," you chuckled.

"Eh, I'll take my chances."

You gave his arm one last squeeze before you went back home. That night, you slept easier knowing you'd soon be able to go to work in peace. Worry still sat in the back of your mind, but you trusted Din. He knew was he was doing...

Right?

All the next morning, your stomach was in knots. You almost called Din on your way to work to call the whole thing off, but you knew he had probably just fallen asleep. No way you'd ruin his sleep because you were a chicken.

When you got to work, you asked your coworker if he wanted to grab lunch when it came time. His eager smile made your skin crawl. Maybe you were too in your head about it. Still, you just felt icky all over, no other way to put it.

Dread sat on your shoulders as you worked. With every glance of the clock, time seemed to move slower and slower. Finally, just past noon, you shot up and went to find your coworker. He gathered his things, and the two of you set off.

The walk was awkward enough. You tried to engage in conversation, but his intense gaze on you was too much. He brushed against you at one point, and you wanted to jump out of your skin. Instead, you remained composed as you kept moving forward.

You had chosen a cafe with an outside eating area. One that would make it easier for Din to be menacing without causing a scene in a secluded space. Your coworker opened the small gate to the eating area open for you, and you scooted past him. Without seeming to eager, you glanced around.

All at once, you froze. While you were relieved to see Din sat at a table, you still had to play the part. He was in a corner, leaned against the gate with his feet propped up on the wooden table. As soon as his eyes landed on you, he kicked himself off and stood.

For the first time since you met him, Din looked terrifying. He was his usual tall, hulking self but his demeanor was totally different. He wore a sleeveless tank and thick black jeans. You took in the sight—

Did he have snake bites? Did this man re-pierce his lip just for you?

Fuck, talk about dedication.

You were frozen. While it could be read as fear, it was definitely something that twisted your stomach.

"Oh my god, Din? What are you doing here?" Your voice wobbled as you slowly approached him. Din moved with such ease for a man who looked like he could lift a car with his bare hands.

"Who the fuck is that?" Din ignored your question, his finger pointed straight at the guy behind you. His voice was an octave lower than usual.

"He's a guy I work with," you sputtered out. "We're just—"

"Why the fuck are you with my girlfriend?" Din poked his chest and moved closer. Close enough that he almost barreled into you. Before you could catch yourself, he caught you with his free arm. His large hand was splayed across your back as his fingers dug into your side.

"She's not your girlfriend. Are you that shitty ex that gave her a hard time?" The guy asked, appalled at Din's mere presence. You glanced back at him to see a bead of sweat on his forehead. Good, it was working.

"Oh, I gave her something hard last night," Din smirked. As much as you hated to admit it, the vile words out of his mouth made your cheeks grow warm.

"Din," you warned in a low voice. "It was a one time thing. We aren't together." It was easy to fall into the role of the damsel, scared of what her ex-boyfriend was capable of.

"You heard her," your coworker snapped. "Get away from her, and let her go."

Din barked out a laugh, his hand gripped your side tighter. You knew you should feel scared, but truth be told, your brains and insides had turned to mush. He was hot all on his own, but right now? You'd drag him to the bathroom right now if there weren't more pressing matters at hand.

"Come get her yourself, you little piss ant. Wait, is your name Alex?"

Your coworker nodded and took a step back. Everything you had been through felt worth it in that moment, just to see the look on his face. If it wasn't inappropriate, you'd snap a picture to keep it forever.

Din released you, only for him to move you behind him. He stepped closer to Alex until they were practically flush against each other. He was a full head and a half taller than your coworker.

"So you're the one who's been following her around like a fucking freak? What, you think following her around like a sad little puppy is gonna get you in her pants?" His tone was almost humored, he was so astounded.

"Babe," you started, your hand stretched out to grab Din's toned bicep. He didn't hold back as he continued.

"Leave her the fuck alone. Speak another word to her and you'll regret it. If I find out you've been anywhere near her," Din grabbed his shirt and dragged him so close that their noses brushed against one another. "I will break your fucking legs."

"I-" Alex stuttered. He was frozen in his spot, his eyes searching for anything but the face in front of him. You watched as his feet struggled to stay planted on the floor.

"Yeah, that's what I though. Get the fuck out of here, and leave my girlfriend alone if you want both your kneecaps." Din shoved him back, hard enough for Alex to stumble as he was let go.

Without so much as a glance his way to see if he was watching, Din turned and grabbed for your waist. In one swift motion, you were flush against him and his lips were on yours. It was unexpected, but it sealed the deal. You almost heard Alex scuttle away, if you weren't so wrapped up in the kiss.

It seemed like an eternity had passed when you pulled away. Much to your disappointment, you did have to stop at some point. Din's hands still held your face, your bodies pressed together.

"Seemed convincing enough?" Din had a slight smirk once he was sure there was no sign of Alex. He noticed the dazed look in your eyes, the way you watched his lips move.

"If not, he's truly a lost cause," you sighed. Despite his appearance, he was back to your Din. In the blink of an eye, he went from an ex-convict with a taste for blood to the guy you made baklava with last week.

"He was a lost cause from the start," Din finally let your face go. "You okay?" He stayed near you, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. Fuck, that kiss really put you through the ringer.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Thankful I don't have to spend my lunchbreak with that guy," you sighed. Din perked up a bit and slipped his arm around your shoulders.

"Think you can stomach the time with me?" Din asked. You chuckled and leaned into his side.

"You know, my schedule did just clear up," you teased. Every casual touch, every part of you pressed against the man lit your sense on fire. How were you going to be normal now? Now that you knew what he tasted like, how his lips felt against yours?

"Atta girl." Din slipped his hand down to the small of your back and guided you into the cafe.

Needless to say, Alex hadn't looked at you since. If he crossed your path, he went in the opposite direction. You were able to work in peace, no dread from the minute you walked in to the moment you left.

All thanks to Din.

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

Hii I love your nam gyu fanics!! I barely see healthy sfw fics w him, and u write fluff for him so well <33 can I request a fic w touchy clingy nam gyu x reader where they fall asleep tgt !! Tysmmm

yes of course pookie! ❤️🌺🦑 I'll do it right away

Sleepy sweetness

Character: Cho Hyun-Ju X fem!reader

Summary: you're clingy boyfriend namgyu really hopes you'll read a bit of a book to him before you guys sleep...he claims it makes his dreams so much better

Warnings: None🦑🦑

It had been a long day—busy, a bit chaotic, but nothing that would tire Nam-Gyu out. Or so he claimed when you’d told him that it was time for bed.

You had already brushed your teeth, changed into comfy clothes, and crawled into bed, but Nam-Gyu lingered at the edge, fiddling with his phone. He always did that before bed, scrolling through random things, but tonight, his usual habit seemed absent-minded, as though he couldn’t focus. You raised an eyebrow at him, your voice soft. “Are you ready to sleep?”

He blinked, a little surprised that you had noticed. “Oh… I was just waiting for you,” he muttered, finally putting his phone down. His eyes had that sleepy glaze to them, the one that made his face seem softer and more affectionate. Without saying a word, he shuffled closer to you, his hand finding its way to your waist as he slipped under the covers. He immediately buried his head in your neck, his arm draping across your body like a heavy weight, but you didn’t mind at all. It was actually kind of comforting.

“Are you still awake?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleepiness. You chuckled, brushing a hand through his disheveled hair. “Mm-hmm. You’re not gonna fall asleep without a little help, huh?”

His response was a sleepy sigh, and then he grinned, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. “Maybe... Can you… read to me? Just a little bit?”

You smiled, already reaching for the book on the nightstand. You’d known this was coming. Nam-Gyu loved when you read to him before bed, his clinginess reaching a peak as he became more and more relaxed in your arms.

You opened the book and started reading softly, your voice a gentle hum in the quiet room. His hand remained on your waist, his other hand gripping your side as he snuggled closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of your warmth. His head rested against your shoulder, and his eyelids fluttered with each word you read.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do without you…”You could feel his breathing deepen as you continued, his body sinking further into the mattress, his face a soft picture of contentment. When you paused, he gave a little whine, pulling you closer, his arms tightening around you. "Don't stop yet," he murmured, his voice still drowsy.

You chuckled, continuing to read, your heart swelling with affection as you watched him slowly drift into a peaceful slumber, his body warm and pliable against yours.His grip on you never loosened, and by the time you finished the chapter, Nam-Gyu was completely out cold, his face peaceful as he slept soundly, still curled against you.

You smiled down at him, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Sleep well, my sweet clingy boyfriend,” you whispered before placing the book on the nightstand, and turning off the bedside lamp. You gently move some hair from his forehead and kiss it. Oh god....you loved this man so much, is your last thought before you drift off to dreamland

🦑🦑🦑

[into-the-hellaverse]

Lucifer and Adam's Good Day

Final part of the Bad Day series!

Before we get to the fic, I wanna thank lilacwriter07, hellojenpenworld, inubaki, and libby-for-life (not tagged cause idk how y'all feel about being tagged in random fics). Libby started this with a commission and Lilac, jenpen, and inubaki kinda kept spurring it on with their kind words and encouragement. Y'all shouldn't have done that XD If you do that, you get a happy giddy mess that's lowkey over the top and filled with typos.

But still, thanks to you guys I did something I never thought I could do. Finish writing something. I always wanted to write a fic series, and it's my dream to be a published author, but I never actually got myself to sit down and write long enough to actually complete something. So, thank you. You guys are some of the kindest people I've met.

Sorry to get sentimental on y'all. Now, let's give Adam and Luci a happy ending :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucifer took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He practiced everything on the way over here. What to say, how to act, and he even scouted out a quiet place for him and Adam to go. He just had to execute this. Perfectly.

He took a deep breath and walked up the small staircase to the mansion's entrance, giving a few quick, sharp knocks.

"ADAM! GET OFF YOU LAZY ASS AND ANSWER THE DOOR!" Mammon's voice carried really well. There was some running around and Adam opened the front door.

"Hi..." Adam whispered, smiling softly. "I started losing hope..."

"I'm sorry, it took a little longer than expected..." Lucifer said softly, cupping Adam's cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm great, now that you're here..."

Lucifer smiled, quickly dropping it once he noticed the scarf wrapped tightly around Adam's neck. "What happened?"

"I'd...rather not talk about it..."

Lucifer nodded softly.

"WHO THE FUCK IS THERE?!"

Adam pushed his hand away and turned into the house. "ITS LUCIFER!"

"WHO?!"

"LUCIFER!"

"WHO?!"

"IT'S THE KING OF HELL! GET OVER HERE!"

Lucifer had never seen Mammon move that fast. He was at the front door in a matter of seconds, a scowl on his face. "The fuck you want, you walking asshole?"

Now to put the plan in action. He gave a big, nervous smile and sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Yeah, so I had to have a meeting with Sera, and she found out that Adam isn't up in Pride anymore. And, you know Sera. She through a bitch fit and demanded Adam gets put back where he belongs."

"He's not going back with you," Mammon growled.

Lucifer held up his hands defensively. "I know! Believe me, I don't want him in my Ring! But if he's not there, then Sera might wreck havoc and..." Crap what was he gonna say?! He practiced this 20 times! "Destroy all of Hell..." That wasn't what he was supposed to say.

Mammon raised a brow. "Seriously?"

"Yes." Now he had to commit. "I mean, you know Sera. Takes the smallest thing and blows them out of proportion."

Mammon sighed and rolled his eyes. "Bitch still hasn't changed a bit, huh?"

Yes, he bought it! "Sadly, no. So, I just need to take Adam for a month or two back to my Ring. Once Sera calms down, I'll talk to her and make her realize that it's better if he's down her with you. Sound good?"

Mammon sighed. He was obviously pissed off and hesitant. "Just a couple of months?"

"And he'll be all yours," Lucifer said with a smile. "Forever and ever..."

Mammon rolled his eyes. "You better fix it. Quick." He turned to Adam. "Go get your shit. You're going to stay with Lucifer for a while." He shut the door in Lucifer's face.

Lucifer let out a hefty sigh, feeling his heartbeat slow down as panic subsided. Thank God, he bought it...

Adam left a few minutes later, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder and gripping his guitar case with a death grip. He raced down the steps and Lucifer ran after him, trying to keep his pace as they left the mansion grounds.

"I thought you said I wouldn't have to go back," Adam said softly.

"You won't. Follow me." Lucifer walked the dirty streets of Greed, holding Adam's hand and leading him along until he found a quiet alley way. He led him deep, until they couldn't see the road.

"What are we doing down here?" Adam asked nervously.

"We just need some privacy." Lucifer let go of his hand and pulled something out of his jacket pocket.

Adam stared at him, shocked and confused. "Is that..."

"A Luciferian crystal." He paused, watching Adam intensely. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm not gonna take this from you. This is yours to keep, Adam. I just need to show you how to use it, then it's all yours. I won't take it back. I promise."

Adam nodded. Although from the look on his face, you could tell he didn't believe him.

Lucifer put it on. "It's really simple, actually." He turned around and held up the crystal, looking back to make sure Adam was watching. "All you have to do is think about where you want to go and draw a pentagram." He used the tip of his nail to draw a pentagram on the flat surface of the crystal, watching the bight red lines etching their way into the crystal. When he finished, a portal opened up to Gluttony, right outside Bee's mansion.

"That's Gluttony," Lucifer explained as Adam stared in awe. "Bee has really good parties."

Adam didn't say anything.

Lucifer started getting uncomfortable. "If you want to get rid of the portal, all you gotta do is wipe it away." He made sure Adam was watching and he wiped the pentagram off the crystal, and the portal closed in the blink of an eye. "And that's just how it is. Think of where you wanna go, draw the pentagram, and wipe it away once you pass through." He took off the crystal and held it out to Adam, but he didn't grab it.

"Adam..." Lucifer gently took his hand and placed the crystal in it. "I'm not going to take it from you. I genuinely want you to have this."

"Why?" Adam asked, looking confused.

"Because after everything I did, after everything I said to you... This is the least I can do..."

Adam still seemed nervous and hesitant, but he gave him a smile.

Lucifer smiled back gently. "Can I show you one more thing?"

"Sure..."

"I was able to set up a spawn point or homing beacon of sorts on the crystal." Lucifer gently opened his hand, showing the flat surface of the crystal. "If you're ever running around the Rings and you need a place you know is safe, just think about home and draw the pentagram." He drew it for Adam and watched a portal open up into a red room.

Adam just stared, like he didn't want to believe this was real.

"It's safe. Trust me." As if to prove a point, Lucifer fell backwards into the portal and landed on the hard ground on the other side. Adam just stepped through, looking around cautiously.

Lucifer quickly jumped to his feet and carefully wiped away the pentagram. "Don't forget to do that. You don't know who will follow you through."

"Got it," Adam said, gripping the crystal tightly when he was done. "So... Where are we?"

"At my palace. I have a bunch of spare rooms, more than what I know to do with. So I turned one into a guest room for you," Lucifer said. "If you're ever scared, if you need a place to stay that you know is safe, or if you just need a break, then you can come here and stay as long as you want. I won't touch anything in here, I won't mess with any of your stuff. You can use any of the palace amenities, and I won't ask you to do anything while you're here." He watched Adam examine the bare room closely, as if he was looking for something. "Sorry if it's not that flashy. I thought it would be better if you decorated it since-"

"What's the catch?" Adam cut him off.

"Huh?" Lucifer looked confused.

"What's the catch?" Adam repeated. "There has to be some kind of catch."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What do you mean? There is no catch." Lucifer looked just as confused as Adam.

"You can't be this nice just because. There's something in it for you."

Lucifer sighed softly. "Adam. Trust me when I saw this. I don't want anything from you. I just want you to be safe."

"Why?"

"Because I care about you. More than I probably should... After everything you went through, you need a place that you know is safe, and the only place I thought of was here. And with the crystal, you can go anywhere you want in Hell at a moments notice. It's not exactly the freedom you had up in Heaven, but it's close enough, right?"

Adam said nothing, his expression unreadable as he looked away from Lucifer and down at the pure white crystal in his hands.

"I'll let you get settled in...." Lucifer turned and left the room. He walked down the quiet halls, but it felt different than before. Just having Adam here, it made his home feel warmer. It made Lucifer feel calm. I mean, Adam was probably never going to use the room, but just the idea that he could be here anytime... It made him smile.

He heard a gentle knock as he passed by the front door. Confused, he went over and opened it a crack to see who it was.

"Charlie?" He asked, swinging the door wide open. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I stay with you for a while?" She asked as she sobbed.

"Of course, baby! Come in, I'll get you bags." He gently ushered her inside and grabbed the few bags she brought, leading her up to her old bedroom. She was silent, except for the occasional sob, sitting on her bed while Lucifer started to unpack some of her clothes and belongings.

The silence was eating him up. Charlie was rarely ever like this. And judging from the puffy eyes, she had been crying for days. He carefully sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"What happened, duckling?" He asked, his voice soft and gentle.

Charlie started cry harder than ever. "I don't know, Dad! I don't know why I've been acting like this! Everything was going so well with the hotel and Adam then Cameron came around and started framing Adam and I just got so mad and everything went out of control and Vaggie left and I kicked you out and Angel ran away and Alastor left and if Alastor leaves then Husk and Nifty leave too and I was all alone and I just couldn't take it! I'm a failure!"

"Charlie, sweetie, you're not a failure," he said, pulling her closer. "You're just.... Maybe you like Lilith."

"H-Huh?" She wiped her eyes, smearing days-old makeup on her face.

"I mean, you know I have some form of anxiety, and I passed that onto you. Your mother never really showed it, but she had some kind of mood disorder. I wanna say she was bipolar, but I'm not a doctor so I can't diagnose."

"Am I broken?"

"No, no, Charlie. You're not broken," he said reassuringly. "You just need some help. You still have that human disguise, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Wonderful. I'll get an appointment set up and I can take you up to Earth so you can get a diagnosis from a good, trusted doctor, and some good meds to help. Not the shit that Belle has. Maybe set you up with a therapist, too."

Charlie seemed to calm down at that. "I thought you couldn't go to Earth..."

"Charlotte, I'm the King of Hell. I can fo whatever I want, whenever I want, and however I want. If I want to go up to Earth to help my daughter, I will." He smiled and kissed her cheek. "Get some rest, duckling. I'll make your favorite tonight."

Charlie smiled and hugged him. "You're the best, Dad... I'm sorry for kicking you out..."

Lucifer hugged back tightly. "You had every right to, Charlie. I promised you I would never take them again and I broke that promise."

"You just needed help," Charlie tried to reason.

"And I could've gone somewhere else for that help. I didn't have to go to Auntie Belle." He kissed her forehead and pulled away. "Now get some rest. Seriously. You look exhausted."

Charlie gave him a weak smile and laid down on her bed, easily succumbing to sleep.

Lucifer just smiled and left the room. Finally, after all the shit of the past year, things finally started looking up...

This may be the conclusion of the Bad Day Arc (if you wanna call it that) but not the end of the story! There will be more fics around this storyline, that I shall not reveal because I wanna be a sneaky bitch :3 Mostly, I'm writing it for me, because I will take every excuse to shove my ocs where they don't belong (and none of the previous characters were ocs. I just asked friends to name them for one-off jokes and shit). I will shove my ocs into there like shoving a square into a circle hole

[pastelaspirations]

IT'S FINE. I'M NOT GOING TO HURT YOU, I'M JUST INVADING YOUR HOUSE IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT TO FORCE YOU TO TALK ABOUT YOUR LIL GUY, PERFECTLY NORMAL BEHAVIOR-

ANYWAY, I'M SCREAMING. THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR RAMBLING, I AM EATING YOUR WORDS WITH GREAT ENTHUSIASM. ANGEL LITERALLY LOOKS SO FREAKING CUTE IN THAT SKETCH AND I FREAKING LOVE HER SO FREAKING MUCH, I'M NOT OKAY-

YEE. So, people call me Pastel! :D And that's what I uh... respond to, so uh... I guess that's what I'm called?? Like, I didn't decide that myself, but it's literally just my name now so-

EEEEEEEEEEUUUUUGGGHH, ALRIGHT, YOU ASKED FOR IT. Once I draw my freaking blorbos and infodump about them, I'll tag you, but m a n, that might be a poor decision in foresight because I literally don't know when to stop talking, man

I'M ALSO JUST. FROTHING AT THE MOUTH. DON'T GIVE ME IDEAS, MAN. I DON'T NEED TO IMAGINE MY LIL OCS AS BEING BUDDIES WITH YOUR CUTIE 'CUS IT'S. NOT GOOD FOR MY MENTAL BRAIN ROT RN- (I'm imagining so many scenarios right now of them being buddies, what did you do to me)

Also, I'm just s t a r i n g. THANK YOU, AAAUUUGGH, THIS IS SO GOOD, MAN. THE BACKSTORY IS ABSOLUTE BANGER, I AM SERIOUS. THAT IS SOME GOOD STUFF RIGHT THERE-

Like, you don't understand. Psychological horror and religious trauma?? Those are my j a m. I FREAKING LOVE THOSE THINGS SO MUCH. Ooooohhh my goodness, Reverencetale sounds like such a neat concept, man, I'm not even kidding. It's so creative and interesting, oh my gosh. And poor little Angel, man. She has to deal with so much religious trauma and the ingrained beliefs that it's better to die young and innocent than live long enough to make mistakes and become "impure." Then, he gets ripped out of his world and has his mind warped from the revelation of the multiverse... Uuuugghhh, it's so good, I promise you, I'm actually invested and interested in your au's story <3

I understand being worried about rambling about it though! I was scared before I made my au basically. It is a scary thing making your own au and worrying about how people might react to it. It could turn out to be positive though! I'm writing a fic about mine and flash forward to today, it's my most popular fic and I actually have a fanbase for it now ✧˖°. So you never know, you could ramble about it and get genuine fans for your own au! :D I know I'm already interested!

YEEEEEEE, AND ANGEL'S FAVORITE COLOR BEING PINK IS AWESOME, MAN. Angel's literally so precious. She's dressed so preciously and sweet with all her pink, ribbons, feathers and bells, I love her design so much ;_; (Also, just the lil human, May, being deaf is such a sweet idea. We need more deaf characters in the world <3)

Also, I'm just wheezing. The evil hemangioma is like. So funny and glorious, man. It reminds me of those evil swords in DnD or something. That is such an amazing character concept, I love it-

ALRIGHT, THANK YOU, THANK YOU. I LOVED YOUR RAMBLE. I ATE IT UP. AND F I N E. I GUESS IT'S ONLY FAIR. When I make my ref sheets for my ocs, I'll tag you. YOU'LL BE THE FIRST TO KNOW, OKAY, STOP SHAKING ME, I PROMISE, YOU'RE MAKING ME DIZZY, S T O P-

Also, just.

I have a knack for that weirdly enough. Getting people to care and find newfound love and appreciation for the thing/idea they were unsure about.

AND YOU SHOULD. ANGEL IS A FREAKING SWEETIE PIE AND REVERENCETALE IS AN ACTUALLY BANGER IDEA. I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL-

Did I ever show you guys my Sansona ,, kind of ??

I forget that I ever have one of these , I don’t ever use him - I tried to put him in an au once and it didn’t work out

⚠️ WARNING . Blood and . Hemangiomas ? Blood tumors . There’s an evil blood tumor under the cut !! You’ve been warned !!

[grassbreads]

I'm two volumes (three chapters) into Pet Shop of Horrors: Passage-hen, and honestly, I'm not incredibly into it so far. I was hoping that focusing on one of the earlier Counts D would mean a return to horror, but it really hasn't been so far. D does kill some people in the second volume, but there's no particular attempt to make his doing so frightening/unsettling/atmospheric imo. He only kills a handful of rich people that we're specifically made not to sympathize with, whereas the killers are made extremely sympathetic (and honestly pretty nice). And besides those killings, D has been shockingly chill toward the people he meets so far. Bit of a letdown coming from spooky grandpa, tbh.

However, there is one thing about Passage-hen that's sucking me in so far, and that's the setting. It's set in Paris at the turn of the 19th/20th century. It's set, as of the second chapter, right when the 1889 Paris world's fair is about to start. That is exactly the same time and place that VnC is set.

Needless to say, I'm already thinking about the potential for a VnC/PSoH crossover fic. The alignment is just too goddamn good to pass up. The worldbuilding for each series absolutely does not play nice in combination, but does that matter for a spooky oneshot?

If Passage-hen won't give me the atmospheric horror I want from this series, then I can put the goddamn horror back in myself by force and inflict it on one of my funny little french vampires. Noé does love wandering the shops of Paris and buying miscellaneous crap, after all >:].

[sleepy-grav3]

DCxDP Prompt

Danny and Phantom were always separate beings, and Phantom becomes the Ghost King.

BUT Phantom's ghost species is a phantom, which Danny didn't know when naming him (inviting him to the Fenton family thing through a ghost pun)

And phantoms collectively haunt a region in the infinite realms. Specifically, what DC calls The Phantom Zone.

The cherry on top? Phantoms are genuinely malicious ghosts; Phantom just favors Danny enough to act like a hero. He only seems innocent and kindhearted when Danny looks his way, then second he turns his head, he's all creepy and evil looking.

And it all comes to head when there's a summoning.

Bonus: Danny is edging closer to insanity.

Mad scientist, traumatized to villainy, one seriously bad day away-

Meta or just a genius?

Extra bonus! Phantom doesn't care about mortals and he's the one holding Danny back and keeping him from falling to the deep end.

If this prompt has been done before, please comment some recommendations :)

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[wandixx]

"There is only so much you can for the dead" part 2

continuation to this, I should probably make an original title at some point

trigger warnings: graphic describtion of Danny's death

Moments of blissed, deadly stillness felt unfairly short. It was less than blink of an eye, less than a drop of darkness after he asked Team for the last time to leave and before he woke up, in exactly same state that he was when portal spat him out. He could barely perceive his limbs, and what he could, was consumed by agonising pain.

Fuck, he hated Death Days. Absolutely horrible experience.

His nerves were on fire, electricity dancing and burning across them. His veins and lungs and nostrils and ears and stomach and eyes and mouth and every little crevice of his body was filled with ectoplasm, like liquid fire and evaporated ice, drowning him at every attempted breath. He was crushed by an unimaginable weight, at the same time as his body exploded. He was just coherent enough to feel his bones breaking, cells bursting, his very molecules being rearranged and destroyed and rebuilt but not coherent enough to tell if his scream was anything louder than a whimper.

He was in the middle of the crowd that screamed louder than he could handle, as if every person who ever got to Ghost Zone used this exact moment to let out all of their anguish, hands dragging and pulling and squeezing and brushing at every inch of his skin. He was alone like no one was ever before, in silence that was deafening. He could be stomped to death any second without anyone turning his head, and so separate from everything that he could be only existing being.

He couldn’t help but wait for Death, merciless and brutal, whose twisted children invaded his bed time stories since he could understood words, whose corrupted children he was taught to hate. She was hideous and horrifying, but against everything, she was familiar and he wanted, needed, to see one intimate face in the situation that was so wrong, wrong, wrong. He waited for her to rip his last breath away so everything would stop.

If he had a scrap of himself that could feel worse, it’d cry when he felt her getting away from him, slipping between the fingers that were both tense and limp, impossible to control but possible to feel, broken and twitching. She was getting away but pain wasn’t lessening, maybe even getting worse, to the point where it was only thing that filled his brain.

And then it all stopped. No pain, not even any left over typical to how injuries worked, just a moment of weird pressure against his palm (just like the button), that soon stopped too.

He was in his human form, but in the hazmat he wore just before the accident. Something was wrong about it all. Something in his body made it feel like not his. Something in his chest was too light and too quiet and some intrusive thought made him want to claw on his rib cage until he ripped it open and realized what was missing.

Breathing seemed to easy, enough that he got lightheaded. It got a lot harder when he realized.

He couldn’t feel his core.

Before he managed to come to terms with that, there was a gentle pressure on his hand again.

And the pain returned.

*-*-*

Danny didn't wake up abruptly, with a choked scream and phantom burns. He also didn't wake up slowly, not in the nice, relaxed way at least, when the line between dream and reality is blurred beyond recognition. He woke up in pain, feeling like he wasn't even sleeping before, just… somewhere else while his body was destroying itself again for what felt like decades.

It took some effort to connect with his body after he woke up. To be able to move even a finger. Even longer, to open his eyes. Actual ages to sit up without urge to scream.

After seeing the absolute wreckage of the room, he kinda wished it took him longer. It looked like a warzone. Electrical burns on the walls and ceiling, random puddles of bubbling ectoplasm eating away anything they touched like an acid, and what little stuff there was before, was almost all broken beyond recognition, either by whatever force was doing its thing during his death day show or ecto. When he looked at it a bit more, it seemed to go in spiral around him.

It was kinda sad that the cookies went to waste like that. He was curious who brought them in though.

Thank fucking Ancients that Team listened to him and nobody was there when the whole mess was going down. They would probably join him on the other side of the veil otherwise.

He saw it all only because of his ghost enhanced in dark vision (thank Ancients he stayed in the ghost form) because apparently his Death Day shorted out both main electrical circuit and the emergency one. Thankfully, according to his ears, it only reached this and rooms next to him, instead of the whole Mountain.

Fuck. He really hoped Robin gave him some sort of back-up back-up room because otherwise he was dead. Or well, dead-er.

He rolled out of the bed, barely catching himself from smacking on the floor like a sack of potatoes. Though some would argue he didn’t catch himself if only his face didn’t fall to the floor like the sack of potatoes.

Only then he caught sight of big, ecto-green circle that embed itself into the wall right over the bed. It had familiar vibes. Really familiar…

He had to tell the Team about it yesterday.

*-*-*

M'gann was sitting on the needles, just like everyone else. Sure, Phantom asked them to forget about him and essentially ignore whatever was happening to him, but there was no way they'd actually be able to do it. Case in point, first time alarms about shorting out of the electrical circuit in the room. They run there so fast that they had door open to see what was wrong before the absolute onslaught of electricity and ectoplasm and something else turned off the alarms thirty seconds later. Truth be told, they couldn’t do much, not without risking becoming second ghostly member of the Team, they’ve been there and ready. Conner tried to come in anyway, with his invulnerability and such, but they had to drag him out when despite extensive dodging he got hit five times by the time he got two steps into the room. Also, there wasn’t really anything he could do to help.

So they just spent last almost twenty hours alternating between different things to keep themselves occupied enough to not fall asleep and distract themselves from quilt but not enough to not be able to drop it at the moments notice if it was needed. First plan was to nap in shifts if it was necessary but it quickly became apparent that sleep was impossible with how worried everyone was and when M'gann proposed to just shut down their brains with her powers, everyone got really defensive. Well, no was no. So they just sat, at the moment in awkward silence because every topic that wasn't Phantom felt too inane and every topic that was Phantom felt too… just no. No name for why, just no.

M'gann was about to get up to make another batch of peanut butter and oatmeal snacks that took few minutes to make and could be dropped at any second, when Conner practically jumped in his seat, tilting his head to hear better. Robin perked up from whatever he was doing on his wrist computer at the same time.

"Phantom left the room!” they exclaimed at the same time, jumping out of their seats.

This head start didn’t matter by the time everyone ran or flew out to the corridor, racing against clock to the room where they left Phantom. It didn’t seems so before, but now M’gann just cursed their past selves for not waiting somewhere closer. There wasn’t really any place where they could stay instead, unless they set camp right outside his door, but it still. They should be there five minutes ago, like Wally, who obviously run off.

They heard Wally speaking before they’ve seen him.

“Hey, hey calm down. It’s fine, they’ll be there in a second, just chill. They’re right after me, whatever happened, we’ll help you in just a moment, you don’t have to run. You’re barely standing. Phantom, calm down”

M’gann barely made it around the corner and she thought she had seen Kaldur actually smacking into the wall. He brushed it off.

Phantom looked beyond rough. It seemed like Wally, who had ghost’s arm across his shoulders, was only thing holding him up. His feet were firmly on the ground, not in his usual way, when he looked just a breeze away from flying, but in this fully human way, which was unsettling. His face was gray instead of his usual almost tan, eyes wide and terrified.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered, not looking at anyone in particular “I’m sorry, I’m sorry”

“Phantom, it’s fine. It’s fine, we know about the room, it’s fine,” Robin said, trying to placate him. It didn’t quite work. Ghost was on the verge of hyperventilating, which was a bit weird to see on someone for who breathing was voluntary.

“It’s not about room”

“I’m sure it’s fine anyway”

“It’s anything but. I’m sorry-”

“Shut up and tell us what happened if you’re so sure we will be pissed”

“Artemis!”

“Portal”

“What about it?”

“Portal is what killed me.”

M’gann didn’t like how the whole situation looked before, but it suddenly became much worse.

“My Death Day made another one”

[artiststarme]

Eddie saw the kids treating Steve like he was the dumbest member of the Party. He saw them ridiculing him about his verbiage, his confusion over DnD, and his lack of dating. Hell, they found fault in basically everything he did. Eddie saw Steve losing more and more of his confidence until he had hardly any left. He would wilt under the force of their judgment, his smile would dim, and he’d make his entire being smaller. 

It made Eddie furious. Steve might not be the best at reading or playing roleplay games involving excessive amounts of math but he had his own strengths. He knew how to survive. Steve had told him about being left alone at home from a young age and having to figure out how to change the batteries in the smoke detector. How he’d had to figure out how to clean the pool and handle the chemicals when he was eleven because his parents wanted to come home to a clean pool. He’d seen him decipher sports plays on TV that had Eddie’s mind boggling.

Not to mention the fact that Steve had been keeping those bitchass kids safe for the past three years. He’d provided first aid, fought monsters from hell, and still managed to keep those little shits alive. So, the next time he hears one of them say something derogatory about Steve, Eddie might lose it a little.

Importantly, his words met their mark. There was some screaming involved, some finger-pointing, and blame thrown around. The kids may have been in shock for part of his tantrum and in tears for the rest of it. But from that day forward, they treated Steve with the respect he deserves. They stopped calling him names and insulting his intelligence. They stopped expecting the most of him and treating him the worst. Most of all though, they started showing their appreciation. 

And it made Eddie happy. No one, according to him and everyone else’s opinion that mattered, deserved it more than Steve. He let him know as often as possible, whispering it into their kisses or into his ear as he cuddled him at night. For the rest of their lives, Eddie would make Steve understand how smart and how important he is.

[xvxblahhhxvx]

Concept: After the Guild arc, the news wants to do a live interview with the people directly responsible for stopping the Moby Dick from crashing and saving the city.

AKA. Atsushi and Akutagawa

It takes a bit of deliberation on both parts, but the Agency and Mafia eventually agree, because they feel it will be good PR.

They both get trained, as well as doing some join practices, for how to speak on live tv and not sound like they want to kill each other.

On the actual day of the interview, Atsushi and Akutagawa are there on screen, Dazai and Chuuya are behind the camera to guide their respective orphan's and get them to smile more (or in Akutagawa's case, look a little bit less like he wants to murder the camera), and Mori and Fukuzawa are there as the leaders of the organizations.

So. Three generations of skk under roof while the tv is live? What could possibly go wrong?

(hint the answer is everything)

[psychopomp-namine]

yingdu episode 5 spoilers

ohhh my god this is everything I want from cheng xiaoshi. yes. perfect. sorry, but I'm a cheng xiaoshi whump liker and link click always brings out the best of them in episode 5 of each season.

there's just something cathartic about how when cheng xiaoshi becomes an emotional mess, it's also when he's most disconnected with the people he knows (physically, as he's diving in a photo and his only link to his home timeframe is a disembodied lu guang in his head) but it's also when he's most connected with strangers (when their own personal trauma lines up with his). to me, it's a showcase of empathy and a strange manifestation of his own agency. something about how the disconnect gives him the space to blow up, and the connection heightens it and grants him permission, almost, to express his anger more freely for his own sake and for another person's behalf.

like. listen, okay, I'm gonna ramble now because cheng xiaoshi is my favorite character in this entire show, but listen. sometimes some fans will conflate adjectives to his character that are usually associated with his character archetype, but they aren't necessarily true about him as a character. and I don't mean it in a, "he's not like that because he grows out of those traits" kind of way. I mean it in a, "he was never like that" kind of way.

one of those adjectives, for me, is when people call him immature. he isn't! to me! imo! he's got big emotions, yes, but I personally don't think the presence of big emotions indicates anything about maturity. because you know what? as long as his primary trauma (feelings of abandonment) isn't touched, he is very good at handling interpersonal conflicts, and that's what's interesting to me.

qiao ling hides relevant information from him? he removes himself from the situation to give himself space and sort out his feelings. he tells her he's fine and that he'll be back.

post-earthquake arc? I'll just copy paste what I already said in a previous ask:

what initially got me was when I was first watching S1, I thought the earthquake arc would have devastating effects on [shiguang's] relationship. listen, I didn’t know what I was getting into with link click, but I thought that was expected. it’s ripe for drama! but how do they handle the fight? they put their side business on hold but they still keep being roommates. they still do their day job. they still talk. they’re still upset but they give each other space but not to the point where they can’t stand existing in each other’s spaces. that’s when I realized that oh, they really trust each other. they have a very solid foundation for their relationship that not even the earthquake arc can break. they’re pretty level-headed about this, actually, all things considered? all the doomed yaoi stuff came later, but that’s just the cherry on top. it’s the way they handled conflict and disappointment in S1 that got me.

okay, protect-namine, why go through that whole tangent? BECAUSE! circling back to yingdu episode 5, we finally, finally get to see cheng xiaoshi let out some of his anger. and it's precisely because his primary trauma point was on the table. he can forgive a friend lying, and he can forgive being told not to change the past. because at the end of the day, qiao ling and lu guang stayed. they never left him.

but he cannot handle abandonment. he cannot understand why people leave. he cannot understand why he's been clinging on to false hope this entire time. and more importantly, he cannot understand how someone can be such a hypocrite about it. "a man who'd rather be kind to strangers than face his own son" like fuck man. cheng weimin you fucked up so bad.

it's the disconnect/connect thing again too. thematically, it makes sense. when does cheng xiaoshi blow up? when he's alone, far away from the people that ground him. alone, the feeling he hates the most. he's not even in his own body. he blows up when he's inhabiting a stranger's. he doesn't even get to be angry as cheng xiaoshi.

how fucked up is that. man. I love him so much.

also I'm going crazyyyy over the family themes going on in link click. much to say about the show itself across all seasons (the twins, qiao ling and cheng xiaoshi, even the liu siblings), but for this episode... god. okay this is slight speculation territory now and I'll try to keep this very short, because this is only tangential to the post. but. imagine xia fei getting the good parent figure in cheng weimin that cheng xiaoshi never had. and he doesn't know!! he's bitter inside about his dad and he's having hotpot with xia fei and he doesn't know he was in that school!! fuck that's so good. that's so juicy.

okay, sorry, I have a lot of feelings about cheng xiaoshi. he's my link click blorbo of all time, and I love when he experiences The Horrors™ because it's also when other sides of him gets to shine.

on a brighter note:

VEIN AND CHENG XIAOSHI MEETING AGAIN!!! their greeting was so cute. also omg does xia fei know? that his boss is maybe possibly a cannibal? actually, wait, I don't think I'd be surprised if he does know.

ah and finally. finally:

I've been having many thoughts on how yingdu approaches "friendships" and their transactional nature (mostly with regards to liu xiao) but I mostly thought they're headcanon stuff. but now. I'm so so happy that episode 5 is bringing out more of the quid pro quo theme. liu xiao with the gift giving. wang qing's "friends" (bullies) demanding her to cheat on the exam for them. and now, vein and cheng xiaoshi having a friendly greeting but also exchanging favors. so good. so good. it goes along with how there's so much handshakes and handholding this season (not just with lu guang and cheng xiaoshi, but with cheng xiaoshi and the the antagonist trio too, who have all met him by "helping" him in some way). something something trust and favors. probably something that deserves its own post though, but I wanted to point this out because I am soooo here for that. it's goes hand in hand (ha!) with the whole fraud/lies vs innocence/honesty theme this season, and deals/contracts being an equalizer to the two. very good. very tasty.

edit: ooh they also point to this in the YE6 trailer too. nice, nice. if you knew someone's true colors, would you still be their friend?

man, I love episode 5. it just hits all the stuff I personally wanted to see. the only flaw is that we still haven't seen the older version of wang qing, but yeah I kinda expected that they'll hide her until episode 6. they're giving her the liu xiao treatment from season 2. sigh. really wish she'd keep showing up in S3, we need more female characters in this show 🙏

[magnusbae]

The first time they share a bed, actually share, not collapsed after a feverish fucking or exhausted into nothingness after an endless battle, but a real get ready for sleep, bedtime routine and all—Anakin cannot stop moving.

Restless and uncomfortable, he is hyper aware of every dent in the mattress, every ruffle of the sheets. His mind is not numbed by an orgasm or a complete fatigue, instead it's left to boil with awareness, with unrest.

"Anakin." Obi-Wan sounds only a little annoyed. The man is exhausted, Anakin doesn't need their bond to hear that. He is tired and in need for sleep. "What is the matter?" he still finds it within himself to ask, sounding genuine enough, concerned enough.

"Noth—" Anakin begins, and thinks better of it when Obi-Wan's silhouette tenses up, a barely there shift in the shoulders. Tonight is not the night in which he wishes to test his Master's patience, not when they both are so clearly not up for bickering.

Anakin sighs, admitting, with no small amount of embarrassment in his hushed voice "—I usually sleep on the right side…" It's close enough to the truth, he thinks, cheeks warming.

A moment of silence is broken by a muffled and genuinely amused snort. His Master doesn't even pretend it was a cough. He just laughs.

"Oh Anakin." Obi-Wan sighs once his shoulders stop shaking with his silent mirth, sounding painfully affectionate.

"Master! You—" Anakin's protests are cut short by a pair of strong hands, maneuvering him easily to the right side of the bed. Anakin can practically feel the huff of laughter against his neck when he is drawn closer, back pressing snugly against Obi-Wan's chest.

"Better?" his Master purrs against his ear.

Yes. Yes, better.

"Thank you, Master."

The smile in his voice is so obvious, laid bare. He sounds like a besotted fool. With how easily a mere hug could easen all of his uncertainties, lighten all of his concerns— perhaps he is.

"Good." his Master takes it for the answer that it is, pressing his nose against Anakin's nape and exhaling a gentle: "Good night, Dear One".

The wrong side of the bed was the least of Anakin's worries and even that is forgotten in the sleep that soon follows. So easily. He smiles.